#I’m going with murder is bad even if you ex is a scumbag so she did a bad | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thebibliophilevigilante · 1 month ago

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He was confident, very much so - if her earlier comments had been any indication - that she was bluffing about the bedroom tour. He smirked at her as she climbed into her car. “Oh, sweetheart,” he cooed, “You and I both know you don’t mean that. On the off chance you do, well…I’m adaptable.”

She said she’d be back, and she peeled away from the curb. He decided to go back into the cafe and wait.

But of course, he could never get any peace.

After waiting for 32 minutes (30 exactly would have made him seem too eager) he sent her a message. “Hey, it was great seeing you at the cafe. If you’re still up for the tour, I’ll be here. Let me know.” Simple. No pressure, no overwhelming neediness. Just a courteous statement and an open invitation that she could absolutely decline without any guilt. Perfect.

As he scrolled through his phone, glancing at the clock in the upper left corner and waiting for a notification to come through, a figure hulked over him across the table. He didn’t even need to glance up to figure out who it was. “You’re making me believe you don’t actually do anything at the precinct except push papers. Why are you here?”

Dick full on pouted again as he pulled out the seat, lowering himself to Jason’s level. “Captain had me make the coffee run this morning.”

Jason pulled his attention away from his phone, eyebrow raised. “Really? When you had already left to get coffee about two hours ago? He just happened to ask again after you were already here once?”

Blue eyes rolled dramatically as Dick raised his hands. “Fine, you caught me. I wanted to see if you were still here with the sass queen or if you actually took her on a tour of the city. What’d you do, scare her off?”

“Maybe it was your goofy ass puns and flirtatious demeanor.” The older man looked like a kicked puppy, and Jason huffed in irritation. “She had a meeting. She’s taking her things back to her apartment. She’ll be back.”

“She couldn’t have just…shoved it all in the trunk and locked it?”

“It’s Gotham. I barely trust you sitting across from me to not mug me for my keys.”

“Fair point. So, when is she coming back?”

At this, Jason’s teeth sunk slightly into the inside skin of his lower lip. It had been a couple minutes, and no message back. “She said to text her in a half hour, which I did, but…she hasn’t responded.”

Dick barked out a laugh, and Jason felt his cheeks get hot. “You’re so adorable. Big bad German Shepherd Jason acting like a little lovesick chihuahua.”

“I will literally murder you in your sleep tonight. Guess you should take the 24-hour patrol.”

“Jason, c’mon. You met this girl, what…a day ago, and you’ve had three run-ins with her? What do you really know about her?”

The bulkier man sat back, expression serious as he locked eyes with Dick. “I know that she’s got a plush job that’s risky when it comes to dealing with men, and that her meeting today was with some balding Mr. S douchebag that watched her like she was a talking piece of meat, and that some psycho ex-boyfriend stalked her once.”

“Mr. S? Who the hell only goes by their last name like that?”

“Shady scumbags preying on innocent people. I think he actually has been to a couple of Bruce’s charity galas if I’m not mistaken. Shorter guy, chrome dome except for the hair at the sides?”

Dick’s face fell into a deadpan stare. “That could be at least two dozen of Gotham’s elites. Got anything more specific?”

“Not till I can swipe his business card off her to do a little recon.” He glanced down at his phone nervously. “I told her to at least let me know she got home safe. I left it as an open invitation, no pressure.”

“How long’s it been?”

“10 minutes.”

“Give it time, Jaybird.”

“A lot can happen in 10 minutes, Dick. I would know.”

Dick visibly flinched. He hadn’t been there when Joker had brutally beaten Jason to within an inch of his life with a crowbar, then locked him in a room with an explosive device. Still, the comment resonated with him. He raised his head, squinting at the younger man. “What are you going to do?”

“Go to one of my places, suit up, and take a daylight patrol-”

“Too ballsy.”

Jason’s fist hit the table. “I can’t exactly go dressed as me. I’m trying to protect her from creepy stalkers, not look like one myself!”

“You crossed that line when you took the extra patrol route last night,” Dick bemused.

Jason glared.

“Just saying.” Dick gave a dismissive wave of his hand in the air. “What if she’s driving here now and you go there and then she’s not there and you don’t know where she went? Can’t follow her around at that point, Little Lost Puppy.”

Red Hood grunted in response. He didn’t want to give Dick the satisfaction of agreeing.

“Or, let’s say she gets here, you said you’d meet her here, then you’re not here. Her heart would be crushed.”

Another grunt. Dick was 2 for 2.

Sighing softly, Dick raised to his feet and nodded to the door. “Walk me out? Sitting in here moping isn’t going to resolve anything.”

Jason’s eyes narrowed as he rose to his full height. “What about your coffee run for the captain?”

“He’s got a Keurig behind his desk; he can brew his own crap.”

As the two men exited the building, a familiar red Mini Cooper roared up to the curb. Both recognized the brunette in the driver seat, and Dick started trotting away down the sidewalk. “That’s my cue before she tries to wound my ego anymore. Good luck, Little Wing!”

Jason glanced down at his watch, then back to Madison as she sashayed toward him, then back at his watch again. Of course as soon as he was set to open his mouth, she was already one step ahead of him. He supposed he couldn’t have faulted her for that.

“Well, sweetheart, we have two options,” he said, striding over to where a black and chrome Honda CB750 was parked. “Option one, I somehow get my huge frame into that tuna can you drive, and I’ll be your personalized Google Maps.”

His hand curled around the red full-face helmet he had locked to the bike’s handlebar frame, his other hand unlocking the lock so he could hold the helmet out to her. “Option two, we go in style and your hair gets a little messy. Take your pick.”

When it comes to getting intel, there are several ways to go about it. One could ask politely, or ask the right questions to eventually draw information from their target. There is intimidation, threatening your target and demanding the information in exchange for remaining unharmed. Then there is incognito surveillance, appearing inconspicuous and melding in with one’s environment just listening and watching.

The current session was the latter.

A raven-haired man with a blanched tuft in his bangs kept his teal eyes trained on the book in his massive, calloused right hand. His left swirled his take-away cup absentmindedly. He was reading words, but they weren’t registering in his brain. His focus was more concentrated on the conversations around him, and what information he could gather before his next patrol.

The first three rules of real estate are location, location, location. Burnley Brewhouse definitely had that, especially for Jason Todd. It was conveniently placed right on the very edge of Burnley, practically at the juncture of where Crime Alley and The Bowery neighborhoods started (which were all Jason’s domain). By day, the neighborhood was full of regular citizens, students and tourists. By night, the whole area was crawling with denizens of the dark wheeling and dealing for their own personal gain and vices while putting others at risk.

Jason brought his cup to his mouth for a sip, his eyes flicking to the counter where two men with heavier builds were waiting for their order. One had a rough 5 o’clock shadow, the other a scraggly, unkempt blond beard, both wearing holy jeans and beat-up leather jackets. He recalled seeing them once during a patrol a couple of weeks prior, skulking around by the Freight Yards. They were definitely up to no good then, and could offer him decent information in the present. The barista handed both of them a take-away cup, and his eyes quickly glanced down to his book again, his peripherals watching as they meandered around to sit at a table caddy-corner from his in the back corner of the shop.

“Terry was telling me about that new candy order he has coming in,” 5 O’Clock muttered lowly to his friend. “Said it should get here overnight, and we can distribute to the stores first thing in the morning.”

Scraggles ran his nails over his beard as he listened. “Loaded with sugar? Y’know these kids can’t get enough of their sugar.”

“He said it was everything needed from the inventory list. He said he has his pal Molly coming in to help with the shipment too.”

There was a small pause before, “How many donuts did he get and where from?”

“11 for the crew. I think he said they’re from Declan’s over on 14th Street.”

Jason had to refrain from rolling his eyes. Those two idiots were blatantly discussing a drug drop in broad daylight just as if they were talking about a regular candy store shipment.

He switched the book to his right hand as he snagged a napkin from the holder and a pen from the table. He scribbled a note to himself, writing the characters’ names from his book, followed by “PG 11, DL 14.” He knew his own shorthand; the character names were to keep up appearances. “PG 11” would remind him the drop was scheduled for 11, and “DL 14” would remind him the ship would be at Dock Bay 14.

His attention went back to his book as he brought the pen to his lips, teeth nibbling on the retractable plunge as he appeared deep in thought. He was about to tune back into 5 O’Clock and Scraggly’s conversation when the cafe’s entry bell rung.

His eyes flitted to the door to assess the entrant, and he froze. A young brunette with piercing dark eyes was glancing around, looking for a place to perch herself no doubt. She was breathtaking, and certainly unlike any other person he had seen come in to Burnley’s. As she turned to the counter, he couldn’t help the large grin that danced over his face. First he got lucky with the tip-off. Would he be lucky enough for that gorgeous girl to sit anywhere within his vicinity?

@rpwiththelilflower

#thebibliophilevigilante #rpwiththelilflower

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ms0milk · 2 years ago

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s/o with an abusive ex

| ft. Sanemi, Mitsuri, and Rengoku

a/n: thank you so much for your req!

Sanemi

here's the thing

i just don’t think nems is above murder

so this abusive ex of yours doesn’t feel long for this world, ya feel me?

that ex called one too many times?

they just wont leave you alone?

they followed you when you went out?

showed up at your job?

did he hear you right?

sanemi is not patient, not forgiving, and not above confrontation

if they’re going to be piece of shit that doesn’t know when to quit

sanemi’s gonna submit that resignation letter on their behalf

they take the low road?

sanemi’s going to hell

if you come back to him from a long day out even a little shaken

he’s gonna scoop you right up in the doorway and deliver you straight to the bathtub to wash off the emotional grime

cuff his pants

roll up his sleeves

a therapeutic washcloth scrubbing your back and as much peace as he can manifest as he listens to you talk about your day

this man lives to make your life easy

which means when your ex steps out of line just once

and sanemi has to take out the trash

you’re none the wiser

a little blackmail here, a threat of physical violence there

sanemi and is friends will not let you suffer because of one person who’s too stupid to take no for an answer

if you’re willing to trust him with your fears from the past, he’ll always be ready to navigate the future with you

whatever you need

Mitsuri

like any strong, beautiful woman

Mitsuri has been chased down by her fair share of inappropriate scumbags

and has gotten very good and defending herself

physically and emotionally

she knows exactly how it feels to be perceived as vulnerable and prides herself in her strength and her ability to protect

this applies to you too

duh

the darling love of her life?

you got that extended warranty

24/7 support for life

she’s building your self confidence with spa days, body worship, and making sure you keep your weekly therapy appointment

so whenever your manipulative ass ex comes up

Mitsuri’s got her Listening Ears on

because she knows just how powerful an eager ear can be to someone processing trauma

but

i’m also pretty sure Mitsuri’s grappling with Sanemi for first place on the hashira sliding scale of “how easily they would get into a physical fight with someone who caused you pain”

because the day your ex decides to show their face in person??

and pull some nasty shit??

she was actually arrested for the absolute Bad Bitch Behavior she unleashed that day

i’m talking permanently broken noses and a visit from the adult tooth fairy

“i’m so sorry you had to see that baby”

is all she says when you finally manage to both get home in the evening

and you’re in tears because you have your girlfriend safe in your arms and not in some fucking cell while your sonofabitch ex gets to spend the night in the cushy hospital

but you’re not crying in anger

because you finally

for the first time since you met them

felt bigger than your ex today

“No more fights I promise! Please don’t cry– you y/n, it’s you only you, I only want to make you happy.”

she makes you feel happy and safe

Rengoku

does falling in love with this man ever end? will i ever reach the bottom of the depths of my love for him?

Rengoku is with you through it all

encouraging you to leave your dangerous relationship

protecting you while you gather your things

housing you when you have nowhere else to go

falling in love with you quietly as you build yourself back up

and he’ll be damned if he’s gonna let the asshole that started this whole problem backtrack your progress in any way

ex shows up at your house?

jokes on them, Rengoku’s stationed at the front gate while you finish the last of your chores inside

“You will be fighting with me today stranger, and I am the fight you will lose!”

he’s always all smiles

ex sends you message after message?

paper route be damned, the poor postman is getting escorted backwards to wherever the hell he picked this letter up

I don’t think Rengoku’s the type for premeditated violence

i think he’s a bit too aloof for that

his ego will never get the better of him

his testosterone will never best him

it’s always about you

“Your ex is here Y/n, would you like to walk past them together or would you like to leave?”

“You seem anxious, did something happen while you were out?”

“I’m here with you.”

“You're holding your head high today! You look beautiful like this!”

“You are not alone.”

your villainous ex can’t take away your value and so Rengoku’s going to do the best he can to make sure you see how much he worships your strength

#sanemi x reader #mitsuri x reader #rengoku x reader #kny x reader

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skiller0dani · 4 years ago

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Broken Paradise | Spencer Reid

M A S T E R L I S T Criminal Minds Masterlist

smut requests info wc | 9.1k summary | you run into an ex boyfriend during an interrogation. except it's you being interrogated, and it's your ex boyfriend doing the interrogating.

song

another draft just waiting to be published. really obsessing over Spencer Reid.

also there's mentions of abortion, nothing graphic it's literally just a short direct reference and nothing else.

You always hear people say your past will come back to haunt you, you just didn't know they meant literally. You leaned back against the metal chair in the interrogation room, you've been in here for what felt like hours. You couldn't complain too much seeing as it's your fault that you're in here at all. You wished they'd come in and tell you something, give you an update, say hi, say anything. You seriously underestimated how maddening silence can be. You knew little about the murders the police were investigating, something about druggie women being found mutilated. The pictures they showed you were downright horrifying, you'd need at least one solid bottle of tequila to forget the bodies of those poor women.

The Las Vegas Police Department were a bunch of judgmental pigs, the only reason they'd brought you here at all was because you were from the wrong side of the tracks. Both of your parents were users, and if you were lucky, also dead. They probably assumed you used as well, and seeing as you seemed to fit the killers physical preference the police brought you in for questioning and also for your own "safety". But really you knew they didn't give a damn about your safety, they just wanted to know where you got your shit from. No matter how many times you insisted you didn't use, they kept pushing. When one male officer started throwing your parents in your face, you stood up and promptly broke his nose. That's how you landed yourself cuffed to the table, tightly.

"Oh thank you so much for gracing me with your presence once more." You smiled sarcastically as another officer walked in, wait he's definitely not an officer. The man who entered the room had cleanly cut dark hair, and wore an expensive looking black suit. Not the run of the mill beat cop that you were expecting. You bit back any other fiery remarks, if you wanted to get the hell out of here you needed to cooperate. Diana would be expecting you, not that you were itching to see her but after letter number 75 of her begging you to swing by- well lets just say that Spencer's mother was never the problem. You doubt Spencer even knew Diana was contacting you, which was good. You wanted nothing at all to do with him.

"I'm Agent Hotchner here with the FBI I need to ask you a few questions." This man was all business, you seriously had to fight the urge to fuck with him a little bit.

"I'd shake your hand but..." Your eyes flickered towards the table, where the police officer who's nose you broke had very tightly handcuffed you. In fact he cuffed you so tightly that your wrists were already raw and bleeding a bit.

"They wouldn't have handcuffed you if you didn't punch an officer. Did he hit a nerve?" The Agent's face was level, and gave nothing away as to what he was thinking. You tongued the inside of your cheek, your foot tapping quickly on the concrete floor. These assholes were really starting to piss you off.

"He was being a dick, how many times do I have to tell you guys that I don't use? Are your heads filled with sawdust?" You snapped roughly, yanking away from him to lean back in your chair despite the biting pain in your wrists.

"That's not why I'm here Miss Y/L/N." Agent Hotchner said, his voice even and his eyes on you. The way he was looking at you made you feel exposed, like he could read all of your secrets because of the way your eye twitches when you're nervous. You hate these damn FBI profilers- wait.

"How's Spencer?" It's a shot in the dark, a very long shot in a very dark tunnel. Before the scumbag left you without warning, Spencer mentioned that someone was trying to recruit him for the BAU department of the FBI. The profilers. Spencer left and never came back, two guesses as to where he went. Your eyes locked onto the Agent's in front of you, and from the slight upturn at the corner of his brow you knew you got him. Spencer is here.

"You know Dr. Reid?"

"So he's a Doctor now, doesn't surprise me. Let me guess, he has PHD's and Doctorates in Math, Chemistry and something to do with Geography right?" You say as casually as you can and you can only hope this man is wondering how you happen to know so much about one of his Agents.

"Unless I'm speaking to Spencer Reid, I want my lawyer." You snap, leaning back. You know Spencer won't talk to you, and unless they have physical proof you're guilty of something they'll have to let you go.

Check mate.

Spencer couldn't ignore the questioning glances from his fellow teammates even if he'd wanted to. He watched you lean back in your chair from the other side of the one way glass, what are the chances that you are wrapped up in this case? You of all young petite blonde women in the metro area. The world was fucking with him, it had to be.

"She a friend of yours?" Derek's voice was the first to cut through the silence.

"No." One word answers were the safest route, the shortest diction would give little time for them to draw information out of the way Spencer was speaking. There was a tremble in his tone, he knew there was. Spencer prided himself for having little to no baggage behind him, but of all unopened suitcases- his previous relationship with you was the largest one.

"Really? Cause she seems to know a lot about you." Derek said, his eyes fixed on Spencer. The tension in the room was palpable, and suddenly it felt hard for Spencer to breathe let alone compose himself. After shoving free from the small viewing room, Spencer found it a lot easier to exist without the scrutinizing gazes of his coworkers.

"You hear her?" It was Hotch, with a patiently guarded expression on his face. Spencer and drugs wasn't an uncommon problem, although in the past his poison of choice was dilaudid. Now there's a string of drug related murders and a possible junky who seems to know a lot about him.

"Yeah, from before the Bureau." Spencer clarified quickly, and Hotch honestly looked the tiniest bit relieved.

"Think you could talk to her, she's made it obvious she won't talk to any of us." Hotch said, and from the tension building in Spencer's shoulders he can tell there's some bad blood between the two of you. Spencer took a deep breath before taking all of those unresolved emotions and forcefully shoving them down. Deep, deep down. It's time to do a job, there's a missing woman who needs to be saved.

When that door opened again, you thought you'd won. You thought they were coming to begrudgingly release you. Instead you were met by the big doey eyes of Spencer Reid, your first and last love. All the air was stolen from your lungs in an instant, the memories flood back and you can't stop them. The anger rises then, this is the first time you've seen him since he left you. The one person you trusted not to leave you did, he left like everyone leaves you. Like your parents left you. He's very clearly all business, his face hardly giving anything away as he swiftly reached down to unlock the handcuffs around your wrists. If you wanted to walk away from this without your heart getting broken you needed the upper hand.

"Heya baby." You smiled, you hoped that maybe it would disarm him. At least a little, but when you looked at him all you saw was a stoic and focused expression. Nothing? Really?

"I need to ask you a few questions Miss Y/L/N." Spencer's voice was controlled, even in tone. His voice... God his voice could bring you right to tears. You could still hear him saying how much he loved you with that stupidly angelic voice of his. Spencer was very quickly taking control of the situation and you did not like that at all.

"You know you can ask me anything, there's no secrets between us right Spence?" You leaned forward on your elbows, trying desperately to ignore the throbbing in your wrists. One of Spencer's biggest giveaways is eye contact, when he's upset or feels guilty he'll avoid looking into your eyes. You turn your gaze up to meet his, but once again you're completely disarmed to see him unabashedly looking into your eyes like it isn't a problem at all. Either Spencer has amnesia and forgot who you were, or what happened between you two doesn't hurt him like it hurts you. You refuse to believe it's the latter, he just forgot. Definitely forgot. Somehow he must have forgot.

"Nina Fredricks, have you ever seen her?" He slid a photo in front of you, you recognize her as the woman who was most recently kidnapped. Most recently being 12 hours ago so chances of her still being alive are unfortunately slim. You nibble on your lower lip, come to think of it you actually might have seen her.

"Yeah, saw her at Winchell's, little coffee shop on the corner of 5th? You remember right Spence? You used take me there all the time, I loved giving you head under the table." You smirk, but it quickly falters. Whatever training he went through must have stripped him of all emotion and turned him into a machine. Built only to solve cases and do nothing else. That wasn't the case however, you just didn't know how good Spencer is at compartmentalizing his emotions. He could only imagine the looks on his coworkers faces upon hearing you say that, at least he can just say you were lying to try and illicit some sort of reaction from him. They don't have to know that you totally used to slip under the table and swallow his cock in a diner full of people. They don't know about that side of him, and Spencer doesn't plan on changing that.

"When?" He presses on with the interview, and surprisingly you're forthcoming with information when you're speaking to Spencer. Even after all this time, he has this annoying power over you. This innate ability to get you to do whatever he wants you to, although you would prefer him to use this special ability in the bedroom. No! No you have to eradicate thoughts like that, Spencer hurt you worse then anyone else ever has. He hurt you worse because he made you think he was going to stay, and then he didn't.

"Few nights ago, she looked really messed up though. Winchell threw her out, definitely doped up on something. Before you ask, no I didn't see where she went." You sigh, finally giving up flashing Spencer the all too familiar 'you win' look. Usually a victorious grin stretches across his face, but not this time. Those times are over.

"Did you see anybody with her?" You're not entirely surprised that Spencer isn't writing any of this down, that stupid eidetic memory. You're fooling yourself if you think he forgot what happened, Spencer never forgets anything. Ever.

"Every detail matters."

You genuinely try to remember if anybody was with Nina, and while you didn't see anyone you remember shortly after she left the diner there was this horrible screeching sound. "After Nina left I heard what sounded like tires screeching on the street. Never saw a car though."

"Thank you Miss Y/L/N, is there anything else you can remember about that night? Anything that sticks out?" After a few moments of quiet contemplation, you shake your head.

"Am I free to go?" You ask quietly and Spencer shakes his head.

"Unfortunately we're going to have to keep you in protective custody. We'll move you to a more comfortable room, but you'll need to stay in the precinct."

"But why? I'm not a drug addict-"

"You are exactly this killers type, and we don't know if looking a certain way is more important or if being a drug addict is when it comes to him choosing his victims." Spencer explains simply, his mouth moving a mile a minute as he stands. When he turns his eyes back on you, you realize he's waiting for you to follow him. You stand and follow him out of the cold interrogation room to a comfier waiting room. It has a table and chairs, vending machine and a big plush couch.

"You can stay in here, we'll let you know when it's safe to go home." Spencer says, and this is when you finally catch the crack in his façade. His eyes flicker away from yours, trying to disguise the waver in his voice, the desperation to vacate the room as quickly as he can. But now that you've seen him break, even a little, you're going to crack him wide open. You won't let it go that easily.

"Spencer?" Your voice is soft, with an innocent drawl that Spencer can't resist. He turns his head to look at you, swallowing thickly when his eyes meet yours.

"You do remember me don't you? Once upon a time we were in love." You see the rest of his coworkers trying and failing to look like they're not listening. But it's not like you care if they do, Spencer will though but luckily his back is to the door. After a few moments of tense silence, he finally speaks.

"Of course." It's not the answer you were hoping for but it's an admission, which is more then you were getting earlier.

"Do you miss me Spencer? Miss me in bed next to you?"

"W-Well I-"

"Do you miss when I used to cook your favorite dinner every night when you came over? Do you miss how I loved you unconditionally?" Your voice was steadily growing more hostile, and you knew there were tears building in your eyes. This has all been building up for so long you know you can't stop it now.

"Y/N-"

"Do you miss being able to fuck me whenever the hell you want? Is that what you miss the most Spencer? You must not miss me that much because when you left I didn't even get a fucking call! You didn't even say goodbye, you just left!" You were yelling now, with tears streaming down your face. Spencer had slyly shut the door by now, he knew this was going to happen the second he saw you. He wished he could help you understand why he had to leave the way he did. He was trying to protect you, and he still firmly believes he's protecting you. Look what happened to Haley, what happened to Maeve. Spencer loved Maeve and he lost her like Hotch lost Haley, and Spencer can't lose you. Not you. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if something happened to you.

"Please try to understand-" You never even let him get close to finishing his thought.

"Understand what? Leaving me? You said you loved me! How could you love me and then leave me alone? While I was pregnant!" Your hands flew to your mouth, you honestly never planned on telling him that. Spencer's eyebrows rose high in the air, and you can tell you just knocked the wind out of him. Spencer's hand reached back for the door handle, "pregnant?"

"Spencer I'm sorry I didn't mean to tell you that way." You tried to explain, and despite the fact that he'd abandoned you, you were dead terrified of him leaving again now that he was stood in front of you.

"Do I have a child you never told me about?" His voice is shaky, afraid. Now you can see all his coworkers heavily invested in your conversation.

"N-No, I...I got rid of it." You said softly, watching the mix of emotions swirl across his face. When his trembling palm curls around the door handle you launch forward to grab at his arm.

"I'm sorry, please don't leave. Not again-" But he's pulling his arm free from yours and turning out of the room, nearly slamming the door behind him.

Spencer ignored the questions, he ignored the looks. His legs gave out somewhere near one of the couches. He stared ahead numbly, trying to make sense of what you'd just told him. Trying to somehow wrap his head around the terror of you being pregnant and then the grief of the lost possibility all at the same time. By now, JJ and Rossi had shooed everyone away from Spencer. Which he was immensely grateful for, the only thing he wanted now was to be alone. Completely and entirely alone.

Pregnant.

The word kept replaying like a scratched record, screeching in his ears every time he closed his eyes. Spencer pressed the balls of his palms into his eyes when he heard the distinct sound of footsteps approaching him. Whoever it was, he already wished they would go away.

"Damn Kid, I didn't expect you to date such a spitfire." Derek joked as he sat down, doing what he can to ease the tension. Spencer didn't even bother looking up at him, his head stubbornly lowered and his gaze locked on the ground. Derek racked his brain for something adequate to say, but what was there to say? How could Derek find a way to make this right? Spencer just found out you were pregnant with his child and that you'd got an abortion all in the same 10 seconds. It was a lot to process.

"You gotta talk to her Spence." Derek's voice was less humorous this time. Spencer wrung his hands nervously, his eyes finally lifting to meet Derek's. A sharp shake of his head and a flash of the tears in his eyes and Spencer stands, wiping his eyes with the backs of his hands. Time to get back to work. Someone has to talk to you, Derek can't stand of someone crying by themselves like that.

"It's not really my place-" JJ tried to argue as Derek stood in front of her.

"Someone needs to talk to her, and Spencer isn't going to." Derek said, rubbing a hand down his face as his eyes flickered back to Spencer. Who was currently throwing himself headfirst into the geographic profile of the killer they're looking for, because maybe if he works hard enough the rest of the entire world will just disappear. Maybe if Spencer keeps working and does nothing else you'll just vanish from that room and he won't have to deal with this. It's not that Spencer wants you to go away, the opposite actually but there isn't room in his life for you anymore. It's not safe. Spencer would rather be alone for the rest of his life then put you in danger because he's lonely and misses you.

"Alright, fine. But only for Spence." JJ says, jabbing a finger in Derek's direction before reluctantly heading towards the room you're in. She glances back at Spencer, who has become consumed by the map in front of him. JJ can always tell when something is bothering him, he has physical giveaways. The way his shoulders are rigid as he scribbles something on the whiteboard, the furrow in his brow that lets her know that while he's working on something, his mind is elsewhere. The tremble in his palm from trying so hard to hold everything back, everything he doesn't want anyone else to see. To someone that doesn't know Spencer, he looks perfectly composed, his attention and focus completely on his work. JJ knows him well enough to know that his mind, and heart are sitting tattered in this waiting room on the couch next to you.

JJ creaks the door open, flashing you a smile that makes you absolutely hate her guts. Spencer probably has some puppy love crush on her, she's beautiful. Long blonde hair, slender body, stunning smile. Everything you're not.

"Hi I'm Special Agent Jennifer Jareau, but you can call me JJ." The way she's looking at you lets you know that she came in here to try and understand. You're not in the mood to talk to her or anybody else in this stupid building except for Spencer. You want to hate him so bad but you can't. You can't because of how much you fucking love him. The bastard.

"Look I know you're probably not all that excited to talk to me-"

"I want Spencer." You snap, and by the look on her face you can tell she isn't surprised that you said that. JJ chewed on the inside of her cheek, how does she say that Spencer doesn't actually want to talk to you?

"Dr. Reid is needed elsewhere right now, but I'm willing to talk if you need to."

"You don't have to lie Agent Jareau. I know he doesn't want to see me, he's doing that thing where he pretends to work on something while secretly obsessing over something else." You say casually, and the fact that you can pick Spencer apart so easily is somewhat off-putting to JJ. But that could be her unrequited crush on him shining through, deep down JJ doesn't like that some other woman knows Spencer better then she does. While you'd love to sit here and wallow in your misery, a much worse idea strikes you then. If you can't talk to Spencer why not fuck with the woman who's clearly in love with him.

"And the little twitch in his fingers, the slight clench in his jaw. See that? He keeps rolling his shoulders back," while everything you were saying isn't a lie- it's guaranteed to annoy her. JJ stayed quiet, she hated that she didn't know what the goddamn twitch in his fingers meant.

"He's tense, but there's more. He can't stand still, keeps shifting from foot to foot. It's driving you crazy that you don't know why he's doing that." You laugh as her annoyed eyes flash to yours for a second before settling on Spencer again.

"You're a profiler, you can't figure it out? That doesn't surprise me, you've probably never considered the fact that Spencer has an unusually high sex drive." Your words completely stun her, and JJ's cheeks flush profusely.

"It means he's horny." You say casually, leaning back against the couch. You love the blush on her cheeks, and the fact that she's clearly biting her tongue to avoid saying something rude. You love that you got under her skin, and yes you're aware that you're a bad person. Now that you've said it, JJ can't get it out of her damn head. Spencer is horny. Spencer isn't a virgin. The thought of Spencer having sex makes JJ feel a sick turning in her gut. She was happy believing Spencer was a virgin, believing that nobody has gotten to experience that side of him yet. Happy to believe that he was untouched, but apparently that was not the case. Now that the illusion has been shattered, JJ feels as though the jagged pieces of it are cutting into her, and she knows you enjoy watching her bleed.

"Trust me, I know just what to do to relieve the tension, I know how to get him off quick. Do you?" You smile as you let your eyes shamelessly drag down his slender frame.

"You're only saying this because you want to control the conversation, and you hate that I see him everyday. That I can talk to him whenever I want, about whatever I want. You wouldn't lash out if you didn't feel intimidated." JJ says calmly, rendering you just as speechless as she was moments ago. The pain that was sent stabbing into your heart caused you to recoil back from JJ, trying to hide your misty eyes from hers. You can't let her know that she's winning.

"Look, we can both get nasty all we want but that's not why I'm here. I just want to help." JJ says sincerely, but you still don't budge. JJ taps her fingers against the wood of the table, thinking about leverage she can use to get you to talk to her.

"Spencer fell in love again." JJ says finally, and this time you turn your gaze up to look at her. You push your emotions down, no matter how much it hurts to hear her say that. Who is she? Are they still together?

"If you want to know more about her, then I suggest you talk to me. An answer for an answer, fair?" You can see her trying to bait you, and damn her because it's working.

"Fine." You grumble, leaning back fully against the couch. Your eyes catch Spencer's for a second when he turns to face the table, presumably looking for a map you remember being on the right side. You point to the right side of the table and Spencer looks nothing but annoyed when he follows your direction and finds what he's looking for. He hates that he functions better as a person when you're around.

"What's the deal with you and Spence?" JJ asks, and there is a lot to unpack with that question.

"Gonna have to be more specific." You say with a shrug, your eyes hesitantly meeting hers.

"How long were you two together?"

"2 years 8 months." You answer without pausing, causing her eyebrows to raise. JJ didn't expect you to remember down to the month, it's been years since you and Spencer were together. That's not a short fling like JJ originally thought, that's a substantial amount of time.

"What's her name?" You ask, desperate to get information on this mystery woman who has stolen Spencer from you.

"Her name was Maeve." Was. You don't miss how she says was instead of is.

"Why do you hate Spencer?" JJ looked like she cared, but you know it's not you she cares about. She's in here to try and protect Spencer in some way, she's acting like you're the villain.

"I don't hate him. He abandoned me. Just packed up and left, no note, no goodbye. Haven't heard from him since." You snap, hating the amount of emotion that was in your voice. JJ's eyebrows furrow, that's just so unlike Spencer. He's not cruel, he's never been cruel but that...is cruel. You see a look flash across her face.

"Sweet boy isn't as sweet as he seems." You say softly, folding your arms over your chest.

"He must have had a good reason." JJ insists, her eyes landing on Spencer's back as he continues to map out the hunting grounds of the killer. You know he's just wasting time to avoid coming back in here. Spencer is a certifiable super genius, he finished mapping it out a while ago. He's just pretending he hasn't finished yet.

"Spence still with her? Maeve." Her name felt like poison on your tongue, and JJ slowly shook her head.

"She died in front of him, really tore him up." Your heart cracks a little bit at her words, you can't imagine how hard that must have been for him. You see JJ open her mouth to ask something else when the door opens, and a man with darker skin pokes his head in.

"JJ? Reid found him, we gotta go." As soon as he arrived, he's gone with JJ hot on his heels. She sends you a smile before she rushes out of the room, and you see Spencer following her path out. They're going to arrest a murderer who has an arsenal of weapons at his disposal.

"Spencer! Y-You can't go, it's not safe!" You blurt from the doorway, and he pauses. His eyes find yours as he holsters his pistol, an unreadable expression on his face.

"It's my job." And that's all he says before he disappears out of the precinct, leaving you once again.

You couldn't quell the anxiety turning in your gut, you're not sure how to exist while Spencer is out there hunting a murderer. You wished that you could turn off the part of your brain that's still so damn attached to him, but no matter how hard you try you can't silence your heart as it calls for him. You're not sure you could survive the constant fear of losing him if you ever ended up with him again, this life is too much for you to take. Maybe he knew that all those years ago when he left you the first time, Spencer always could see right through you. Maybe he left because he knew staying would only lead you to live a life of constant fear, maybe he was trying to protect you. Either way the reasons don't matter anymore because he left, and nothing can change how badly that hurt you.

"Does it normally take this long?" You ask a passing officer, who in turn shrugs before continuing on his path. You feel like you're going to explode or vomit, or both. It's been over 2 hours, should it be taking this long? What if he got shot? What if he's dead right now and you're sitting here with your damn thumb up your ass worrying about him like a useless housewife? Feeling useless, that's what you hate the absolute most. Knowing there's nothing you can do to stop a bullet on it's trajectory to his heart.

"Spence, are you sure you're okay?" You hear a flurry of voices and when his name graces JJ's lips you're pushing out of the room. Your eyes find him instantly, and then travel to his palm which is pressed tightly to his neck. His bleeding neck. You feel your heart rate spike, hammering like the hooves of wild horses as you move without thinking about it. Before you even understand that you've moved, you're stood in front of him. Your eyes try to scan his neck for wounds but his palm covers the location the blood is coming from.

"C'mere." You grab his wrist and yank him back towards where you saw a first aid kit earlier. Luckily your 2 and a half years of nursing school taught you how to stitch a wound and perform basic first aid. Spencer offers no resistance as you yank him to a back corner of the precinct, pushing him to sit down. You grab the first aid kit, slowly prying his hand from his neck. Your eyes mist at the wound, it's a bullet wound. Looks old though, there's scarred tissue. This had to have happened a few weeks ago at least. You see the thin line of the scar, the middle section seems to have opened up again.

"You didn't wait long enough for this to heal." You scold gently, not missing how his eyes watch you with an intensity smoldering in them. You miss the way he used to look at you, the way he's looking at you right now. You miss being the center of his whole world, you scoff. Look how easy it was for him to walk away from you. You threat a needle to stitch the center of his wound shut again, and when you look for numbing cream you discover that there isn't any.

"Spence, there isn't any- I can't find the numbing..." Your voice trails off as you begin to yank things out of the first aid kit to search for the numbing cream. Spencer's hand catches your wrist and it's only just now that you realize you're trembling.

"It's okay. I'll be fine." He settles back against the chair he's sitting in, turning his head to reveal his neck to you. You hesitate, the Spencer you remember had a very low pain threshold. All of a sudden he's expecting you to stitch him up with no numbing agent?

"Y/N, I can handle it." Spencer says again, his voice firmer than before. You swallow a lump in your throat before reaching forward to begin stitching. You press the needle against his neck, eyeing him to gauge his reaction as you puncture his skin to make the first thread. To your surprise he hardly flinches, a small quirk in his lip is the only giveaway that he's in pain. Is this the same man that got squirmy getting a shot? That would shy away from the needle? Now he's sitting here letting you stitch him up without moving a muscle, without even flinching? The more time you spend with him the more proof you get that this isn't the same Spencer that left you all those years ago.

"How did it happen?" You ask, wondering how he could have survived a gunshot to the neck. He shifts uncomfortably.

"Got shot, two inches away from hitting my jugular." Spencer says it so casually, but you're so stunned that you halt your movements for a moment.

"How many times have you been shot?" You ask, your voice hoarse. Is him getting shot a common occurrence?

"Twice. Also got shot in the leg." The casual way Spencer talks about it almost convinces you it isn't a big deal. But it is. It's a bullet ripping through his body, and it's happened to him on two separate occasions. You finish stitching and bandaging him up, your hands moving away from him as soon as you can.

"Thank God you went to nursing school or I'd be six feet under." He jokes. You know he's kidding but still, the thought of it makes you feel lightheaded.

"Don't say stuff like that." You snap softly, and you know Spencer can see the fear and vulnerability in your eyes. You hesitantly steal a glance up at him once he's stood up only to find he's already looking at you. You shy away from his intrusive gaze, and you could practically feel him probing at your mind. Reading your thoughts as if they were written down for him. You hate that he can always tell what you're thinking, you hate that it was so easy for him to read you. Like a damn book. You have to fight the urge to reach out and grab his hand, it's what you always did when you felt lost or unsure. Spencer was always there to ground you and bring your mind back out of your thoughts.

"Miss Y/L/N?" You hear JJ's voice gently interrupt you two. You shoot away from Spencer as though you were doing something scandalous. He doesn't move an inch.

"Yes!" You blurt a little too loudly, suddenly flustered being so close to him. Why does your sharp tongue always leave you when you need it?

"You're clear to go home."

"I can take her." Spencer speaks up before JJ has a chance to offer, and she knew he would. You swallow a nervous lump in your throat, your palms shaking.

The SUV has dark tint, you weren't expecting that. The second you sat back in the plush leather seat your mind flew to lewd thoughts of you leaning over the center console, Spencer's hand in your hair as he helps you take his cock in your mouth. You steal one glance at Spencer, his right hand holding the steering wheel loosely. Your cheeks heat up as you glance down between his legs, get ahold of yourself.

"The address is-"

"I remember." You knew he would. That damn eidetic memory ensured that he never forgot anything. It broke your heart a little, because some naïve part of you was hoping he remembered because it meant something to him. You hoped he remembered the way to your house because he didn't want to forget, because forgetting it meant forgetting you. But you know the reality, you know that he remembers because he has no choice but to remember. His memory is too good to allow him to forget anything, even if it was something he wanted to forget. You're grasping at straws and you know you are, holding onto that foolish notion that Spencer still held onto the memories. That he still held onto the gifts you gave him, crying softly in the night like you did sometimes.

"JJ told me about Maeve." You say softly into the silence, and you saw Spencer swallow thickly out of the corner of your eye. "I'm so sorry you lost her Spence."

"Thank you." He honestly wasn't expecting you to say that, to acknowledge the pain. Because acknowledging the pain meant that you knew he loved her. He did love her. But it was a different love then the love he feels for you. It was special, but so are you. You're special too.

"Have you...dated anyone else?" Spencer can't help but ask as he subconsciously continues the drive to your house. A drive he's committed to his memory, a drive he never wants to forget. You shift to look at him, there were a few you dated. You know when you tell Spencer about them that it'll drive him crazy.

"Tony Anderson." You say and just like you thought, Spencer groans deeply. Spencer detests Tony, they were practically mortal enemies when he still lived in Las Vegas.

"Tony? Seriously?" His tone is incredulous as his grasp on the steering wheel tightens ever so slightly.

"He was a good fuck at least." You know you shouldn't wind him up, but he hurt you for Christ's sakes. He deserves a little bit of pain too. Spencer flinches, a look of anger and something else simmering in his eyes.

"Please tell me you didn't have sex with Tony."

"Why does it matter?" You shouldn't enjoy upsetting people as much as you do. But there's still a small part of you that's convinced that Spencer deserves this.

"Because I can't live with the fact that somebody else has gotten to feel that perfect cunt of yours, let alone Tony." His crude words take you by surprise, and you can't fight the gasp that escapes your mouth.

"Well before you start digging your grave, relax. I never had sex with Tony." You decide to put him out of his misery, and you see the relief physically flood his body. You lean against the window, the next admission from you will leave the air heavier in it's wake.

"I've never slept with anyone but you Spence." You realize it's been a long time since you've seen Spencer let alone had sex with him but you could never bring yourself to sleep with someone else. It's not as though the opportunity never presented itself, you had plenty of chances to have sex with someone else. But you couldn't because there's still a stubborn part of you that doesn't want to betray Spencer.

"Really? Why?" Apparently this revelation surprised him.

"Because no matter where you go I will always belong to you." You snap without thinking, blinking tears from your eyes as you avoid his gaze. Spencer fell silent then, and you know he feels guilty. Probably because he's slept with someone else in the time since he's been with you.

"I know you have and it's fine I'm not trying to-"

"I haven't." Spencer corrects instantly, his eyes meeting yours through the darkness of the SUV. If he could see you he would see the look of utter surprise on your face. It's not as though Spencer was an overly sexually ambitious person when you dated, but you figured he probably slept with at least one person. "I haven't slept with anybody else either."

"I know someone that wants to though." You grumble without thinking, your mind drifting to JJ and the obvious crush she thinks isn't obvious. Spencer tilts his head in a way that resembles a confused puppy, you resist the urge to ruffle his hair.

"Who?"

"Agent Jareau." As soon as the name slips past the threshold of your lips, Spencer's jerks the wheel in surprise. You see a dark blush color his cheeks as his other hand reaches up to steady the wheel.

"J-Jennifer? No way! She's my best friend." You nearly laugh at his flustered state, and normally you would push it a little further but you decide to let it go. You don't want to completely destroy the way he sees her, you know you already destroyed the way she sees him.

"You have no idea what a catch you are Spencer." You tell him as you unbuckle your seatbelt, getting ready to exit the SUV. Spencer reaches over and places a warm hand on your wrist to stop you from leaving, his eyes searching yours for an answer he isn't sure you have.

"Come in?" You ask hopefully, you're not ready for him to leave again. Damnit why did he have to turn up again after so long? You were just starting to think that maybe you could move on and find someone new. You were finally starting to feel okay, and then Spencer reappears and turns your entire world upsidown all over again. Deep down you know that nobody will ever compare to Spencer Reid, and you don't want them to. You don't want anyone to be like Spencer, you want him to be his entirely own person. It's what you love the most about him, is his ability to be himself no matter where he is or who he's with. All of his little quirks, the things about himself that he doesn't notice but you do.

"Yeah." His answer comes across as an exhalation of breath, and you try to hide how excited you are. You want to hold on to any moment you can, stolen moments that you take as you please with no regret whatsoever.

"Nothing has changed." Spencer muses once you unlock the front door and push inside the darkened living room. You blush, admittedly nothing about your small townhouse has changed. It's all basically the exact same as when Spencer saw it last. You rub a hand down your arm as Spencer's eyes go wandering. Trailing over the curtains he remembers hastily pulling closed to protect your decency on more than a few occasions. His gaze then travels to the couch, all those movie nights you two spent curled up together. Or when he got you into Star Trek and you couldn't stop watching it. Pain stabs his chest for a moment, it's hard to remember everything he had to let go of to get the job he has now.

"I miss you too, you know." Spencer says off-handedly. It takes you by surprise, the sureness in his tone is jarring. He sounds so comfortable admitting when he's vulnerable, it's never been easy for you to be vulnerable with him. Maybe that's part of the reason he left, maybe you drove him away by shutting him out. His eyes meet yours, a look so soft in his eyes it feels as though his gaze is caressing your skin. You bite your bottom lip to keep the emotions at bay, what is it about this man that makes you so emotional?

"I never said I missed you." You try to snap, to add an edge to your tone. But instead it came out watery and broken, and in turn Spencer reached up to swipe away a falling tear.

"But you do." You can't even deny it, it's obvious.

"Damn you Spencer Reid, I was finally starting to feel okay again." You cry softly, curling your arms towards your chest in an attempt to shrink away from him. He cups your cheeks in his palms, turning your face up towards him.

"I wasn't." He admits before his lips are on yours, and it's not frenzied and desperate like you've been picturing all these years. It's slow and calculated, soft and passionate. Firm but with a tenderness that makes your knees buckle from the gravity of it. Spencer's fingers card into your hair, pulling your head closer to his. He nips at your lower lip, his arms crushing you against his chest. You throw yourself into him, your arms holding him as tightly as you possibly can. Afraid that if your vise grip loosens, even for a second, that he'll slip through your fingers like trying to hold onto water. You almost don't want to let your eyes close, you don't want him to disappear again.

"I missed you, I miss you-" You gasp against his lips, grabbing fistfuls of his dress shirt. Spencer continues to move his lips languidly against yours, backing you against the wall. His hand ghosts down your side to the hem of your shirt, his fingers toying with it.

"O-Off." You beg, and in an instant Spencer is pulling your shirt over your head. His eyes land on your bare chest, shocked that he almost forgot that you never really wear a bra. His hands curl around your back, drawing your chest up into his awaiting lips. His mouth curls around your hardened nipple, your hand flying into his hair from the contact.

"Is this a dream? Please tell me you're really here Spencer." You beg, almost becoming lost in the emotions again. His eyes flutter up to meet yours, his mouth reluctantly leaving your nipple. He brushes his lips over yours, his hand trailing down your stomach towards the waistband of your leggings.

"This is real, I'm here baby. I'm home." Hearing those words was too much, and you launch yourself into his chest as the first tear trickles down your cheek. Your lips press sloppily to his, the kiss messy and wet as his hand slides into your leggings. His fingers find your wet slit in an instant, desperately parting your lips to slide a lithe finger into you. Your body reacts to him instantly, in a way that surprises you. Almost as though it too was crying out for him, keening into him and begging for his touch as much as your mind is. Spencer hauls one of your thighs up to hook around his waist as he presses another finger into you. You cry out softly into the quiet air, accompanied only by the labored breathing fanning across your face.

"I need to feel you, I- I need-" You can barely get the words out as he steadily pumps his fingers into you. His mouth on yours silences your desperate pleading, his chest firmly pressing your back into the wall. You missed being able to feel him and you hate that you forgot what it feels like to have his body on yours. It's been so long you forgot what the sting of his cock feels like. What it feels like when you stretch wide open around him, to feel like you're being ripped in two. Spencer continues his pace, his thumb rolling your clit to provide the extra stimulation you're missing. It's not enough to satisfy you, but its enough for you two cum. Which you do. You gush around his fingers as you gently come undone, your back arching into him.

"Please," You beg wantonly, curling your other leg around his waist as his hands hook underneath your thighs. Spencer's lips press against yours, moving slowly against your own. You know now that you will never stop loving Spencer, and that he's completely ruined you for life. You'll never be able to love anybody else without your heart wandering back to him. But then again, you don't really mind because you don't want to be with anybody else. You don't want to love anybody else. You just want him, only him. He pushes into your room, walking the entirety of the way with his eyes closed and his mouth pressed against yours. He has the layout of your house mapped out in his head? He never even bumped into anything until he was dropping you unceremoniously on the bed.

"Tell me what you need, I'll give you whatever you want." Spencer husks against you, hovering above you. Your fingers are already unbuttoning his shirt before you even have the chance to respond to him. You know instantly what you want, what you need from him.

"I want all of you, give me everything." You plead, your lips practically chasing his as he kneels up over you. He's being soft tonight, and that's something you appreciate greatly. You need to feel his love, you need to feel everything you know he can't quite put into words. His hands are shaking as he undoes the button and zipper of his dress slacks before kicking them off the edge of the bed. You stare up at his naked body, looking as though it's been sculpted by the Gods specifically for you. Spencer smiles softly at you as he pulls your leggings down your legs, leaving little nips and kisses on your inner thighs as he goes.

"Hurry." You groan, nearly clawing at his bare shoulders to pull him back up to you. Spencer chuckles at how eager you are, watching with interested eyes as the head of his cock breaches your folds. You reluctantly stretch open as he continues his intrusion, his fists curling tightly around the sheets. Christ you weren't lying about not sleeping with anyone else, you're so tight it's making him feel a little lightheaded. Inch by inch Spencer presses into you, his forehead resting against yours once his pelvis is sitting flush against yours. Sure, you've had sex with hi before but never have you felt this connected to him. Spencer sits like a gentleman and lets you adjust to his size, trying to take a few deep breaths himself. It's hard to breathe with your heat sucking him in with a vice grip.

"Can I move?" You're surprised by how collected his voice is, but the furrow of his brow is a giveaway that he's losing the battle to stay stock still inside you.

"Yes, please." You moan, unashamed. Spencer gently draws his hips back, pulling himself nearly all the way out before swiftly sliding back into your inviting cunt. He sets the pace slow and deep, his hands reaching up to lace through yours. Every time the head of his cock nudges that spot deep inside you, you can feel your toes curl. Your head slams back against the pillows, unable to keep your gaze on him any longer. You feel yourself becoming one with him, and you wish you could capture this moment somewhere other then just in your minds eye. Your memory is nowhere near as good as Spencer's, he'll be able to recall every detail of this moment up until the day he dies. But over time, this memory will fade for you. It'll wear out, all the details becoming fuzzy and blurred. If he's not here in front of you, you'll forget and you don't want to forget.

When the night draws to a close, and the moon has reached its peak, Spencer slips carefully out of bed. It chisels away pieces of his heart as he carefully gets dressed, reaching for his go bag which he'd brought inside upon realizing that he'd be staying a while. He pulls out a t-shirt he'd worn recently and leaves it folded neatly at the end of your bed, something for you to hold onto when he's gone. Spencer's cheeks are wet with tears as he leans over and presses a kiss to your head.

"I love you." Is the last thing he whispers in the space between you two before he's gone again.

On the jet, Derek can't keep his eyes off Spencer and that helplessly broken look on his face. A book is laid nestled in Spencer's lap, but Derek can tell he isn't really reading it. Trying to bother Spencer into opening up probably won't work, but it's worth a try. Derek has to do something and this is all he can think of.

"You okay kid?"

"Yeah fine, why?" Spencer draws his eyes up from the book, his gaze meeting Derek's from across the table. While Spencer might be a talented actor, he can't lie to Derek.

"Look I know how hard it must have been leaving her again-"

"Did you know that on average the FDA allows a minimum of 1 rodent hair per 100 grams of peanut butter? They have to allow themselves room for error just in case of-"

"Alright you win, forget it." Derek sighs, turning his gaze out the window. In an instant Spencer drops his peanut butter spiel, turning back to his book. A guaranteed way to get people off his back is to start rambling about something boring or gross, they usually leave him alone pretty quickly. It's not that Spencer doesn't appreciate Derek's concern, he just doesn't want to talk about it. He can't talk about it, because every time he imagines how you're going to feel when you wake up, tears come to the surface of his eyes. He hates this case more than all the rest even though they saved the victim. Spencer hates this case for ripping open an old wound, one he thought healed.

He was wrong.

When you wake the next morning you knew he'd be gone. That didn't stop the tears from coming when you reached over and felt cold sheets. That didn't stop the tears from coming when you cried how much you loved him over and over again even though he couldn't hear you. It doesn't change how badly this hurts, how much worse it feels compared to the first time he left. Your eyes catch the shirt folded at the end of the bed and you grab it instantly. You pull it over your body and you lay down in your bed, inhaling his cologne that you know will fade over time. Eventually his scent will disappear, removing all traces that this fabric belonged to him at all. Every trace of him will disappear over time, every mark from your body will slowly vanish. When it's all gone, you'll be left with nothing more than a t-shirt that's too big for you, and a cold reminder that the man you love will never truly be yours. A reminder that every time he comes home, he leaves again.

A cold reminder that this world is cruel for bringing you Spencer Reid, only to rip him from you again and again.

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #spencer x y/n #spencer x you

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opossumanonymous · 3 years ago

Text

How did things get so messed up?

Warnings: Talk of murder, a single swear, Inko just sometimes thinks about murder, uh vigilante Izuku

Black Widow Inko! Part 2 featuring Dad Might vs Dad for One! This is honestly just Crack with a plot...

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It seemed like yesterday he was in that hospital room meeting his son for the first time. Inko holding their sons tiny body, tears welling in her eyes as she beckoned him closer.

He walked over with no hesitation fully ready to meet Izuku (The name chosen by Inko who got to pick after winning a bet).

Sitting down next to his tired wife he stared down at the infant in wonder. The tiny human they'd waited 9 months for was finally here. Hizashi almost didn't know how to act for a second, so caught up in looking at the tufts of green hair and freckles covering small cheeks.

Reaching out Hizashi gently caressed Izuku's little face with a single finger causing the baby to let out a coo. He grabbed his father's finger in his little fist nearly bringing the 200 year old man to tears.

If asked that's how that day went to Hizashi of course Inko remembers him nearly flooding the hospital room but Hizashi would never admit that.

Tears or not that day Hizashi knew he would protect them with his life so how....how did things get so messed up?!

How did he end up sitting across from his arch nemesis?!

How did Izuku out of everyone in Japan end up with one for all?!

And most importantly how did All Might end up seducing his goddess Inko?!?!

Seriously Hizashi just couldn't understand how she could be with such a lowlife, she must not know who he is.

Never before had Hizashi felt such a deep burning hatred for anyone.

Currently he was sitting on the couch in his and Inko's apartment while she and All Might sat on the adjacent couch. No one spoke until Inko finally cleared her throat.

"Toshi this is my ex hus-"

"Current Husband."

She looked at him with eyes full of fire and a voice full of venom as she spoke. "You forfeited that title the second you thought not calling for 12 years was a good idea."

"...."

She always knew what to say to shut him up especially when she was angry. One of the things that interested him in Inko at first was how unlike most she got incredibly smart when angry.

She also got more sadistic, he could practically hear the gears turning in her head as she calculated all the ways she could kill him.

In this house he was not the devil no, the cute green haired woman sitting across from him was. In fact the murderous aura around her was very concerning, not that he feared for his life with witnesses around. He knew she'd be angry but he'd hoped him getting on his knees and begging for forgiveness would work like last time.

Meanwhile Toshinori was on the verge of having a mental breakdown. At first when he walked into the apartment after a date night he was shocked to find none other than All for One standing in his living room. He quickly pushed Inko behind him ready to defend her against Japan's greatest villain.

While he no longer held one for all that wouldn't stop him from protecting his wife with all he had. How did All for One break out of tartarus anyway?

And just how did he look like this?

All for one looked the way he did before their battle where he smashed his upper face in. All for one, who last they spoke had no eyes, hair and barely a nose now had all of that back and even looked a few years younger.

Each and every person in this room was plotting how to kill someone. Thankfully this day they'd all walk away unscathed.

Mainly because they all had a secret to hide from eachother.

Inko didn't want Toshinori to know about her past, Toshinori didn't want Inko to know who her ex was, and Hizashi didn't want to anger his wife further by revealing any of her secrets. (He may have been criminally insane but he wasn't stupid)

After all one does not rat out their ex-assassin wife's past to her new husband who is also the ex-symbol of peace. Lest they both team up, beat your ass and throw you back in prison or just straight up murder you.

"Anyway Toshi this is my ex husband Hizashi, Izukus father, he left about 12 years ago with no contact or information."

"Oh come now darling those divorce papers weren't serious. I understand you're mad but I'm back and I promise nothing will keep me away this time."

The utter nerve of this guy he really wants to die today! He's lucky he stopped wearing ties years ago or else Inko would've been choked him to death!

"Tea. I'm going to go make some tea I'll be back soon." She said with a strained smile resisting the urge to rip out Hizashi's teeth.

After she left to the kitchen the atmosphere got even darker the two mortal enemies now left alone.

"So it wasn't enough that you destroyed my face and took my son as your successor, you just had to go and seduce my wife too!"

"Your wife! Did you not just hear her she divorced you?!"

"Yeah all because of you and your meddling if you hadn't destroyed my face putting me in comatose I would've been there for her and Izuku!"

All Might paused for a second realization hitting him like cold bucket of water. Before he got his composer back not wanting the enemy to get the upper hand.

"If you hadn't have been quirk smuggling and stealing classified documents I wouldn't have had to!"

"Oh so it's all entirely my fault?!" Hizashi scoffed "I bet she doesn't even know what you did to me does she?"

Toshinori stayed silent it was true she may have known who he was but she didn't know about his hand in her ex husband's absence.

He had no idea how lucky he was she didn't know or there would be two dead men walking instead of one.

"I take your silence as a yes then?" Hizashi was a little smug now.

"Not like you've told her who you really are." Hizashi frowned at this causing Toshinori to smile "I see I'm right as well."

Well he was only half right he never out right told Inko she figured it out on her own. But All Might didn't need to know that, after all no use making Inko even more upset then she already was.

Meanwhile in the kitchen Inko was trying to figure out how to shoot her ex from the kitchen without Toshinori noticing.

While she knew it was impossible without blowing her secret a woman could dream.

As the tea finally came to a boil she noted the distinct sound of her sons bedroom window opening and closing. Knowing her son was back from his nightly vigilantism only done on weekend nights per their agreement. She briefly considered pouring rat poison in Hizashi's serving but decided against it.

Not that the good for nothing scumbag didn't deserve it. But just scaring him would do for now unless Izuku didn't want him in his life. After all he was Izuku's father and Izuku deserved to choose whether he wanted him in his life or not.

Bringing back a tray with the tea she sat the cups down with an eerie look on her face. "Here you go Hizashi I made yours just how you like it!~" She said sweetly.

Yeah Hizashi isn't drinking that, no way she definitely must have done something to it. He hasn't survived the past 200 years to die like that, thankfully his lovely queen isn't good at holding her emotions in.

"Thankyou darling you're too kind." He said taking a cup but not drinking from it.

Toshinori on the other hand called her buff he knew she wouldn't do anything. As he drunk his own cup he remarked on how good it was, well atleast he didn't have to worry about no real or imaginary poison.

Toshinori really didn't know what to do he was having a mental crisis. Should he tell Inko and young Midoriya the truth about All for one or not say anything? The boy would be devastated and would he really want to fight his own father when the time came? He would never forgive himself if it caused Izuku mental pain.

But if he turned Hizashi in to the hero commission they wouldn't know it was him. But he'd still have to deal with them being distraught and possibly hating him for not telling them sooner. Plus everything might become public and there's no telling how many enemies All for one has made that would be out for blood.

This was bad, both his morals and heart clashed at the thought of hurting Izuku and Inko they both quickly became the family he never got to have.

Izuku even started calling him dad for crying out loud! What would he call him if he found out his idol and mentor was the one who separated him from his biological father?!

"We need to settle this once and for all." Inko finally said still annoyed and just wanting Hizashi out.

"Yes you're right we should Inko darling. I won't make this hard, I promise I only want to see my son. Perhaps he can sleepover at my place on the weekends?"

Toshinori paled at that, if he got young Midoriya alone there's no telling what that monster would do to the boy. He could kidnap him, take one for all, and lock him away forever. Toshinori couldn't let that happen deciding he'd rather tell both Inko and Izuku who 'Hizashi' really was.

"Yeah no I don't think so you can have supervised visits and you can take him somewhere if I'm available to go with."

Yeah Inko wasn't buying what her ex was selling she knew he'd have Izuku quirkless and vaulted if she left them alone.

Not to mention that would force her to try rescuing him leading to her being vaulted as well.

But together they could defeat him after all he couldn't fight them both at once.

Hizashi was about to open his mouth when all of a sudden a voice called from the hall.

"Dad?"

"Yes son?" Both men said in unison before looking at eachother with a glare.

Izuku just stood there frozen in shock as his step dad and biological father glared at eachother. He couldn't believe his eyes, even though he heard his father's voice he just thought his mom finally got him on the phone. But this is unreal he never thought in his wildest dreams his father would be in front of him again.

He gripped his plan shirt that had "shirt" written on it in big white letters. His heart felt like it would beat out of his chest at any moment, a million questions going through his mind.

He was so deep in thought he didn't hear his mom get up from the couch and approach him till he felt her hand on his shoulder.

"Sweetie are you okay?" His mom asked him worried.

The two men stopped glaring at eachother now focused on Izuku concerned for him.

Tears came to the greenettes eyes as his voice shook with joy. "Dad!"

Hizashi was then tackled by the boy, slight bits of green lighting appearing on him showing his small use of one for all. Despite Izukus small stature compared to his father's hulking one, Hizashi nearly doubled over feeling like he was punched.

His son was a strong boy, he lamented the years lost since his little green bean was no longer little.

Wrapping his arms around his son Japan's evilest villain patted Izukus head. Causing the ex-symbol of peace to go into a coughing fit, a waterfall of blood pouring from his mouth.

"Dad are you okay?!"

Pushing away from Hizashi Izuku went to check on Toshinori as Inko offered up a handkerchief. Taking it in gratitude Toshinori thanked his wife before reassuring Izuku he was okay. "Thankyou son I'm alright no need to worry." Giving his signature grin he ignored his enemies death glare.

All for One the demon emperor would never admit he's jealous of anyone especially his arch-nemesis. But seeing his son coddle that blonde theif made his blood boil.

"Well this will be a new experience I never thought you'd call someone else dad..." Hizashi said with a strained smile his mouth lighting up with fire for a second.

He could always burn the blonde homewreaker with his fire breath good thing that was the quirk he with.

"Oh I guess it will get really confusing calling you both dad. But what other alternative names for you both? Or I could just call one dad and the other something else...maybe papa could work?" Izuku muttered suddenly, scratching the back of his head.

Both men looked at eachother realizing this could be the deciding factor. They knew that whoever got papa would win, after all it was the cuter of the two choices.

"Alright it's decided then!" Izuku claped his hands together a wide grin growing on his face. Both men sitting in anticipation at the boys verdict. The two looking like they were on a high stakes game show as sweat trickled down their foreheads.

"I'll call you dad" Izuku pointed at Hizashi "and I'll call you papa!" He then pointed to Toshinori.

Toshinori felt like he could do a cheer, his crops were watered, his stomach was back, his scares gone, everything in the universe was right.

That was until he looked over at All for One who he was sure would definitely kill him now if he wasn't going to before. His aura now darker than before as Toshinori's own aura glowed bright with happiness knowing he was the superior father figure in Izukus life.

Meanwhile Izuku ever oblivious to his father's fued just gave his mom his best smile feeling happier to have them in his life. After all they were his family and he wouldn't change that for nothing in the world.

******************************************************

Sometime later

Yoichi: Leave brother we will not leave this host!

AFO: Oh I don't want your quirk little brother, no not anymore.

Yoichi: Then why are you here what else could you possibly want?!

AFO: WHAT I WANT IS FOR YOU TO MAKE YOUR GOLDEN BOY LEAVE MY WIFE AND SON ALONE! HE'S RUINING EVERYTHING!

Yoichi: I see so that's what this is about...yeah no this is what you get. Consider this karma goodbye brother.

AFO: OH NO DON'T YOU DARE HANG UP ON ME TELL ALL MI-

Yoichi: *disconnects AFO from Izukus conscious*

AFO: *Sitting in Izukus room while his son sleeps* I can't believe it he hung up on me.

******************************************************

AFO: I'll have you know I did alot of good things I'm not a good for nothing scumbag!

Inko: Oh really name one good deed you've done since we got married.

AFO:............Well umm..... Oh! I had Izuku our son!

Inko: Hehe yeah no I had Izuku you just stood there and cried in the corner for 11 hours.

AFO: WELL YOU TRY BEING SUPPORTIVE WHEN YOUR WIFE CALLS YOU A- Wait no actually I adopted a stray child off the streets! That definitely counts as one good deed!

Inko: WHAT!?

AFO: *realizing how bad he messed up* You what happened was....

#bnha dad for one #dad for one #inko midoriya #inko midoriya is a black widow #vigilante deku #dad might #inko midoriya just being a good mom #hizashi midoriya is all for one #battle of the dads

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ragingbookdragon · 4 years ago

Text

Through Hoods, Through Lace, Through Hearts--We'll Find Our Healing PT.1

Jason Todd x Reader Story (Arkhamverse)

Word Count: 2.6K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: I started playing Arkham Knight again and got inspired. Who woulda thought?? Enjoy! -Thorne

Gotham wasn’t exactly safe since Batman—or Bruce Wayne—had died. All things considered, it wasn’t as bad as it used to be now that Red Hood had moved in and started tackling the criminals Batman had left behind—permanently. Killer Moth had been the first and Roman Sionis was the second to go, and while Red Hood hadn’t outright claimed it, the leftover crew that hadn’t been pumped full of lead, had said that they saw the vigilante leaving, so it wasn’t hard to put two and two together. And it didn’t stop there.

Red Hood had started in on Penguin’s gang too. Now that Batman wasn’t around to stop the weapons and drug smuggling, it’d given the infamous gang leader a free ticket into Gotham. There were some reports about the neighboring vigilante Nightwing coming over from Blüdhaven to stop him. Rumor had it that someone said they even saw him and the Red Hood working together at one point, but it didn’t seem all to believable as the latter didn’t seem to be the partnering type.

That being said, with no one to stop him from killing all the criminals he wanted, a lot of the small-time fish got out of the business, not wanting to be met at the end of Red Hood’s handguns—it’s the exact reason she got out of the game. The money was good, and she was a damn good thief, but no amount of payout was worth her life. But somehow, trouble always managed to find her again.

***

Her file might’ve gotten deleted from GCPD’s database, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to take the easy way down the street and risk an officer recognizing her. She stuck to the back alleys like usual, ignoring the catcalls and sleazy comments about her outfit, but still keeping her brass knuckles around her hand—could never be too careful in Gotham.

Working an honest job sucked in her opinion, and the only thing more humiliating than working at Super-Babes was the number of tips she was getting at the end of her shift. Maybe if she smiled and flirted a bit more, they’d give her a tenner instead of a fiver. She’d half a mind to shove that five down the asshole’s throat after he ran his hand up the back of her thigh, but she was lucky that Tony had been working the kitchen shift—watching him throw the guy out on his ass was payment enough.

Even if she was managing to scrape by, working a restaurant job was kicking her ass, and something deep inside her itched for one more heist, but with the Red Hood stalking the city, there was no way in hell that she was going to risk it. The man had a reputation for leaving bodies and shell cases, and she wasn’t going to be the former. No, she was working towards a better future, getting back on track, and even if she was waitress, she was doing a lot better than most of the old crew. Most of them had either joined up with Black Mask, in hindsight, a horrible error on their part, or gotten thrown back into lockup. She was lucky—she got out during the recovery of Gotham after the whole Scarecrow and Arkham Knight deal. But that didn’t stop them from sending her the occasional request of her skills. All they received was a big ‘fuck no and fuck you’.

“(Y/N), (Y/N), (Y/N). Finally tracked you down.” Speak of the devil.

“Alex,” she sighed heavily as she turned halfway, catching sight of her old partner—and old flame, but that wasn’t important. “Figured you would at some point.” Her eyes narrowed. “What do you want?”

Alex chuckled and leaned against the wall. “No need to be so touchy. I just wanted to talk.”

(Y/N) shook her head and hiked her purse higher onto her shoulder, fingers tightening around the brass knuckles in her pocket.

“If it’s not about my next shift at Super-Babes, I don’t give a rat’s ass what it is,” she countered, glaring at him.

“That’s where you’ve been working?” he questioned, but his tone gave way to the knowingness in his gaze. “Really?”

“Not like there’s anywhere else for ex-thieves to apply, Alex,” (Y/N) grumbled. “Employers are pretty meticulous when it comes to criminal records.”

“I’m not.”

She glowered at him. “I’m not interested in whatever you want me to do for you.”

“Even if you’ll get paid?” he suggested.

“I can’t believe I’m going to ask,” she sighed, eyes narrowing at the grin that split across his face. “What are you doing?”

Alex pulled out a file and walked up to her. “I knew you couldn’t resist a big payout.”

“Fuck you,” she grunted, swiping the manilla folder from him. “Shine a light for me.”

He pulled out his phone and flicked his flashlight on, watching as she read the papers, occasionally flipping the sheets.

All at once, she paused and gaped at him. “Wayne Manor?” She blinked. “You wanna `excavate Wayne Manor?”

Alex nodded and turned the flashlight off, stowing the phone back into his pocket. “Good plan, isn’t it?”

(Y/N) breathed in shock and lowered the folder. “Are you insane?”

“I’m failing to see your issue with this.”

“You want to excavate the home of a dead man. You really can’t see the issue with it?”

“That he’s dead?” Alex offered. “Technically that’s not graverobbing. He’s been dead for like a year and a half.”

(Y/N) turned and took a step. “That’s not the issue Alex!” She spun back around and hissed, “Bruce Wayne was Batman.”

“Keyword was. Not anymore.”

“I don’t give a shit. If Bruce Wayne was Batman, then there’s a very strong chance that there’s still defenses laid around the grounds.”

“In that pile of rubble? Not likely, but that’s why I need you to help me.”

“No,” (Y/N) declared. “I’m not going anywhere near that place.”

Alex let out a sigh and crossed his arms over his chest. “And why not? You never really liked Batman. Didn’t he put you in jail once or twice?”

“Bruce Wayne was a good man that did his best to help this city whether he was dressed as Batman or not.” She affirmed. “He saved people, gave them jobs, helped them turn their lives around. No,” she shook her head. “I don’t want any part of this job, Alex. Now, later, or forever. I’m trying to do better, and you should too.”

Alex scoffed. “Oh please, getting tips for dressing like slutty Wonder Woman isn’t doing better (Y/N), and you know it.”

She ignored the insult and shrugged. “Maybe not, but I go to sleep at night knowing that I’m not going to get shot by Red Hood or some greedy gangbanger.”

At that, Alex paused and stared at her. “Are you really afraid of that prick?”

(Y/N) scowled. “That pricktook out Black Mask and his entire operation within twenty-four hoursthen immediately turned his attention on the rest of the scumbags in this city.” Taking a step towards him, she added, “He doesn’t break bones and leave you lying in pain like Batman did, Alex. He makes sure you don’t get up again. Ever. I’m not risking my neck for anything that’s stuck in Wayne’s basement.”

The man across from her was silent for a moment, then sighed. “I can’t sway you in any way?”

She yanked her hand out of her jacket pocket and flashed the knuckles around her hand. “I’d stop swaying and start running instead.”

Alex opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was, “Oh fuck!” then he spun around and hauled off like his ass was on fire.

(Y/N) stood there dumbfounded. Sure, she could be intimidating, but there was no way she was that scary. Instead of questioning it, she shrugged and shoved the folder into her skirt, then turned sharply on her heel to start on her way back to her apartment. Until she walked straight into someone’s chest.

She gasped as she stumbled backwards, knowing she was going to fall on her ass when strong hands grasped her upper arms, keeping her upright. (Y/N) looked up and met the very man she’d been talking about. Suddenly, Alex’s explicative and escape made perfect sense.

“Oh fuck!” she blurted out, and impulsively swung her knuckled fist at the jaw of his helmet. He caught her hand with an ease and spun her around, pressing her front up against the brick wall.

“Fuck me. Oh, fuck me,” she hissed, cursing herself for not telling Alex to stick it where the sun didn’t shine the second he found her. Now here she was about to get murdered by a trigger-happy vigilante with a grudge.

“Really? Right here? But someone could see us?” The humor in his tone drew a startled laugh from her and she pressed her cheek against the wall, so she could see him.

“I swear to God I don’t have anything to do with him. Fuck, I’ll tell you whatever you want about him and his plan if you don’t kill me.” (Y/N) sucked in a breath. “Please don’t kill me. I swear I stopped pulling heists after Halloween last year. I work a decent job. I keep my nose clean. I don’t get involved in that shit anymore. Please, God, don’t—”

“Will you stop talking for like ten seconds?” Red Hood griped, one hand leaving the grasp he had on her arms behind her back to feel around her middle.

“HEY!” she shouted, thrashing wildly. “GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME!”

He pressed her harder to the wall. “I’m not gonna hurt you. Calm down.”

“I’ll calm down when you get your fucking hands out of my skirt your fucking pervert!” (Y/N) spat, leaning on one leg to kick at him with the other.

“All I want is what’s in your skirt,” he sighed and pressed one of his thighs against the one kicking him. “Christ,you’re a handful.”

“And you’re a fucking sicko!” she retorted indignantly. “Is this how you get your rocks off? Assaulting innocent women? You’re so fucking disgu—”

“Got it,” Red Hood declared, and yanked out the file she’d shoved in the side of her skirt. (Y/N) fell silent when he held it beside her head. “See, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

She could tell he was smirking behind the red helmet and she scowled at him. “You’re fucked up, buddy.”

Shrugging, he flipped open the file and started reading. “Would’ve been easier if you hadn’t tried to run on me.”

“Well excuse me for thinking I was about to get murdered and having the initial instinct to haul ass.”

Red Hood chuckled at that, and despite how wrong the entire situation was, the low drawl made shivers go down her spine.

“Wanna tell me about your friend?” he coaxed and (Y/N) froze.

“He’s not my friend,” she suddenly protested. “I haven’t been around Alex since last year.”

“Really? You two seem fairly chummy.”

(Y/N) craned her neck to look at him. “We used to fuck when we worked together.”

“Mhm,” he hummed knowingly. “Lover’s spat then?”

Barking a laugh, she countered, “Like you wouldn’t believe.” She stared at him. “I got out when you started putting people down. Didn’t want to be a casualty.”

“That’ll do it,” he snickered. “So, you don’t know what Alex’s been up to since last year?”

“No, and I want it to stay that way, but he thinks that if he waves enough heists in my face, I’ll cave and run back to the money.” (Y/N) groaned and rested her head against the wall. “Look, I don’t know what he’s planning, and I don’t care. I don’t want anything to do with whatever that plan it. Honest to God.”

She gazed at him, feeling something akin to tears gathering in her vision, and pled, “Take the file. Hell, take all the money I’ve got in my purse if you want, just don’t kill me.” A single tear ran down her cheek. “Please, I’m begging you. I don’t wanna die now.”

Red Hood’s weight disappeared from her back and he murmured, “I’m not going to hurt you. I want the opposite in fact.” The honesty in his words made her body feel weak and her knees started to go out beneath her. “And there she goes.” He caught her before she fell.

Gently lowering her to the ground, he helped her sit against the wall. (Y/N) leaned her head back and let out a long sigh.

“Oh, thank God.”

He laughed. “Life flashing before your eyes?”

She gave a half-hearted smile. “You’ve got no idea.”

This time when he laughed, it was dark, and it made her stomach churn. “Actually, I do.”

An uncomfortable silence fell over them, then he knelt in front of her, handing her purse back to her.

“Here.”

(Y/N) took it with a nod and stared at him. “So, what happens now?”

He was quiet for a moment, then he waved the file. “I go stop your friends from digging around Batman’s home.”

“Good luck,” she replied, starting to her feet when he tutted.

“Ah-ah-ah.” He motioned for her to sit back down. “We’re not done yet.”

She grunted at him. “What do you want?”

“Information on your friends.”

(Y/N) felt her brows furrow. “Can’t you find that out yourself?”

Red Hood shrugged. “I could, but I’m always looking to make my job easier.” He observed her for a moment, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a roll of hundred-dollar bills.

Waving it in front of her, he said, “You tell me what you used to do for them and what all they’ve got going on, and you can have this.”

(Y/N)’s jaw went tight as she stared at the roll. That could pay rent and bills for at least two months. She needed the money. Her eyes darted to the mask and she swiped for the roll, but he raised it out of her reach.

“Nope,” he ribbed. “Info first.”

“Ass,” she grumbled, but conceded with a sigh. “Fine. Have it your way.” (Y/N) clambered to her feet and dusted off her tacky skirt, watching as he did the same.

“Follow me to my apartment.” Before he could say a word, she thrust a finger into his chest. “And do it from the rooftops so people don’t see you.” Her face set in a glare. “I don’t need any unwanted guests trying to get in because they saw you following me.”

She started off when Red Hood grabbed her forearm, not harshly, but firm enough to make her stop and stare at him questioningly.

“What’s your name?”

She blinked, not expecting that. “It’s (Y/N). (Y/N) (L/N).”

He nodded. “And what did they call you when you worked as a thief?”

(Y/N) huffed. “Not everyone has an alias, Red Hood.”

Chuckling, he retorted, “Yeah, but someone as pretty as you no doubt had one.”

She felt her stomach flutter at his flirt and her cheeks warmed as she looked away and replied, “They used to call me, ‘The Lady in Lace’.”

“The Lady in Lace?” he repeated, then stood next to her and pulled out a grappling gun. “Have a matching outfit, Lady Lace?”

(Y/N) shoved him in the side. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“I think I’d rather see,” Red Hood flirted and pressed the button, shooting off towards the roof of the building.

It was gonna be a long night.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x reader imagines #jason todd x reader imagine #jason todd imagines #jason todd imagine #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood x reader imagines #red hood x reader imagine #dc comics #dc imagine #dc imagines #batman arkham knight #arkham knight #arkhamverse

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softlilacmoonlight · 3 years ago

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Asmodeus x Reader - Perfection

Asmo's pov:

"(Y/N)~~~ Want to come and have some fun?~" I sing through her door.

Through the muffling of the door, I can hear her yell back at me. "No thanks, Asmo!"

"Aww. Too bad. Well, I'll come back later honey~" and with that, I leave and head back to my room without a second doubt in my mind.

(Y/N)'s pov:

I'm surprised that I was able to keep my voice calm, but somehow I did. Thank heavens Asmo went away. I love him more than I can ever explain, but he can never love me. I'm not Asmo pretty. I'm not all makeup, fashion, and decor savvy. He'll never love me.

He wears designer clothes, perfect hair, and meticulous makeup. Me? I wear sweatpants, my hair has a permanent shape as a messy bun, and makeup is a no. I tried once to "girly" up. Let's just say that Asmo spent a whole HOUR fixing everything, and don't get me wrong. It was super sweet of him to fix everything for me, but that just set him back. He had to endure me, fix my mess, and socialize with me.

Every time he smiles at me I feel heartbroken. I smile and nod my head, but on the inside, I'm dying. I've never been an insecure person. I've always been a "shove off, I am as I am" person, but Asmo is the exact opposite. He's just perfect. Everybody never complains about how put together his appearance is. Although his brothers complain about each other plenty, they're brothers. What else are they supposed to do?

"(Y/N)?" whispers a quiet voice through the door. "Can I come in?"

I wipe my eyes and take a breath before answering. "Sure Mammon."

A white tufted head pops through the door. "Do you want someone here with you or should I leave?"

"Please stay with me Mammon. Please?" I beg, sniffles cutting through the quiet.

Mammon quickly enters the room and gently shuts the door. Making his way across the room, he scoops me up and gently uses his fingers to brush my hair out of my face.

"I'm so grateful for you Mammon. I really am." I whisper.

His face blooms a deep red. "W-Well... I-I am the G-Great M-M-Mammon after all."

He just holds me close and slowly rubs my back. His steady heartbeat thumps through his chest and reassures me quietly but surely. His arms hold me against him, even as I start to fall asleep. Slowly, his gentle coaxing lures me into an emotionally exhausted sleep.

Mammon's pov:

Time to go and kill Asmo. Hence why I'm on my way to his room. I made sure that (Y/N) was passed out before I laid her down on her bed and left. Asmo better have one h--- of a good response. If I can't have her, then he better treat her right. Even I'm surprised that I'm doing this. After all, I am the Avatar of Greed, yet I'm trying to help someone else date her. Ugh. Whatever.

I can't believe I'm doing this. I'm already outside of Asmo's door, but I have no idea what to do. You know what... scrap it! Time to go and beat his a--! I kick down the door and while I do so, Asmo lets out a blood-curdling scream.

"MAMMON! WHAT THE...!" Screams Asmo.

Suddenly, the other five brothers dash into the room. Lucifer, of course, takes the lead. "Mammon. What. Did. You. Do. Now?"

"What did I do!" I exclaim. "You should ask Asmodeus that!"

Belphie shakes his head. "Really Mammon, you think we'll believe a scumbag like you over Asmo?"

"SHUT UP AND BE QUIET! Asmodeus you are a heartless, cruel, and womanizing jerk!" I allege.

Satan shrugs his shoulders. "Well, we already knew that, so what's your point? I'm just surprised that you're using his full name."

"Mammon-" starts Lucifer menacingly.

For once in my life, I, the Great Mammon, cut off Lucifer. "NO! I have spent months, months, listening to how he makes (Y/N) feel worthless. How he makes her feel like she isn't special just because she wears sweatpants and t-shirts. How he's so perfect. How her hair is never in place. How she can't compare. SHE'S FALLEN IN LOVE WITH YOU YOU A--, YET YOU DON'T EVEN GIVE A F----! She's tried dressing up! Just for you! She's tried being a 'pretty girl', just like what you always imagine! SHE'S TRIED EVERYTHING TO CATCH YOUR ATTENTION! YET EVERYTHING, EVERYTHING ISN'T GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU! I know you don't respect me you a--, but I am still your older brother. Regardless of what you think, I will still call you out for being a d--- to the people I care about. We all care about her, yet you've just pushed and pushed and pushed her. She just wants you, yet you make her feel worthless! Unpretty! Unloved! I've tried everything that I can think of. I've tried clinging to her so she has someone other than YOU! I've tried taking her out for the weekend. I've tried watching movies, shopping, offering to ask Lord Diavolo for a human world visit, and more than I can even tell you! WHY ISN'T SHE GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU ASMODEUS! ANSWER ME, US, THAT!"

I look around the room to find my brothers all frozen in shock. Even Lucifer looks like a pale ghost. They also look like they're about to commit murder.

"Asmo. Either run or explain yourself." threatens Beel. "You better answer very fast."

Asmo is standing, unmoved from his position next to his bed. His eyes are teary, his face has flushed pale, and he looks utterly terrified. Quickly he starts to shake his head.

"T-That was n-n-never my i-intention..." he mutters.

It still bugs me. "Then why did you always fix her hair, her outfits? Why always take her shopping for new clothes? Clothes she doesn't even like!"

"I-I-I... I was trying to spoil her because I have a-a-a h-huge c-c-c... CRUSH ON HER! I have a huge crush on her ok. I thought that if I spent time with her, spoiled her, and pampered her then maybe she would... maybe she would look past my makeup, past my fashion, past everything. Ok, you a--!?" With that Asmo lets out a defeated sigh.

Marching over, I grab him by his shirt collar. "I swore to protect her. Now you better go and tell her how you feel before I do it for you. If you hurt her Asmodeus, like so many others you've 'dated', I will personally hunt you down and flay off all of your skin. I'm still second oldest, but unlike Lucifer who punishes because he cares and is a sadist, I have never actually used my title as the Second Lord to lay a hand on any of you. Hurt her, and I won't hold back Asmodeus."

It's kind of satisfying to see him visibly gulp. With that, he nods his head and runs out of the room. Hopefully, he has a brain past his makeup. Now I get to have a little chat with Lucifer. Hehehe...

Asmo pov:

For once in my life, I actually run. I don't stop, even when my scarf catches on something and tears.

Reaching her room, I repeat what Mammon did and kick down the door. "(Y/N)!"

"What! What's going on! Who died!" She exclaims.

I rush over and kneel down in front of her. "Please! Please! Go on a date with me?"

"Whaaaa?" She can't even seem to fully process it. All my mind can think is (Y/N).exe has malfunctioned. Error. Error.

"Will you, go on a date, with me?" I inquire once more. "I'm sorry that I made you feel like you weren't good enough. I thought the makeup, the clothes, the pampering, and everything I was doing would make you want to go out with me, but I was wrong. (Y/N) you are beautiful just as you are."

Her eyes glimmer with tears and I already know that I look like a hot mess. I can feel my mascara running down my face and through my foundation. She shakes her head no and my heart just plummets.

"Asmo... of course, I'll go on a date with you." She whispers.

Wait. Really! "Alright! Um. Tonight? Tomorrow? Whenever and wherever you want!"

She mulls it over and then looks at me. "How about we stay home and watch a movie?"

"Sounds lovely sweetheart," I whisper. I'll take full advantage of this situation, and while I'm at it I'll even thank Mammon later.

Bonus:

And they both lived happily ever after... jk. Mammon broke down the door five minutes later to check on us. Surprisingly, Lucifer didn't punish him.

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

Sorry for the break, however I'm back!~

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its-ya-boi-autumn · 4 years ago

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Omg omg omg its me AGAIN. Idk how its possible but im in love all over again. I was thinking, like idk ive got so many ideas but like what if one day adeline is like 15 and she kills someone out of instinct, rage etc. And shes rlly guilty and chrollo happens to be in the same city/area n sees n hes gives her the talk??? Like "it is what it is". Maybe even helps her hide the body n evidence so his ex s/o doesn't flip? Totally understand if u dont wanna do 2 requests in a row, love ya xx.

I'm totally fine with doing two in a row baby~ I'm just a little slow is all 🤣 I've had a lot of social interaction going on today and then I came home and now I gotta fix my room so if this doesn't come out the same day I apologize 😅 (probably won't, I'm just super tired) Warning: abuse and violence

Adeline’s chest was heaving, her throat feeling as if she were breathing fire instead of air. Her chest and cheeks were colored an angry red and her legs were beginning to go numb. She couldn’t fall now, not when he was quick on her heels. Tears stained her cheeks, still falling from her eyes. The adrenaline continued to push her forward. To keep her running as fast as she could. The ponytail that held her hair up finally gave way, allowing her long black hair to block some of her vision when she turned around for a split second.

Danny was still too close for her to even begin to slow, his stamina almost inhuman.

A sob wracked her entire body at the sight and she nearly tripped. Her eyes frantically darted everywhere. Where could she run that would slow him down? Could she hide anywhere? Was there anyone else around? She had to find something to at least slow him down. Was there anything at all? Running straight through the pathway in the woods had proven to be a bad idea after she came out into a vast meadow of nothing but grass and dirt patches.

“Adeline-”

“Leave me alone!” her voice screeched into the evening air, tearing at the tissue in her throat. She prayed her voice would be heard by someone. Anyone. Danny’s pace picked up, his arms quickly enveloping her, crushing her ribs.

“Adeline Lucilfer-”

“LET GO OF ME!” her fist reached up, coming into contact with his jaw and forcing his head up roughly. Danny released her, his hands covering his mouth at the throbbing pain he was probably experiencing. Adeline wasted no time to be proud of herself and began to run again, but her legs weren’t having it. The short time she had been stopped caused her muscles to relax and they wouldn’t cooperate anymore. Instantly, she fell forward, trying to force herself up again and keep going. She heard the deep groan of pain resonating in Danny’s chest. Her heart raced. What could she do? Her legs were rendered completely useless right now and there was nothing she could defend herself with other than her own two fists.

All the running she had done was starting to catch up to her too, her lungs having a hard time allowing her to breathe and her throat burning. Her body wouldn’t help her this time. She was sure she was done for. Adeline flipped onto her back, trying to almost crab walk away while Danny was still getting his bearings. When his eyes met hers, they were swirling with nothing but pure malice. He’d had enough.

“Adeline...” his voice was soft despite his hard face. Her own eyes grew wide, tears once again blurring her vision. The only thing she could actually see was Danny’s broad shape standing to his full height, strolling towards her slowly.

“No... no, no, no, no- Danny please, just leave me alone!” she opted to beg for him, hoping that some slimmer of his good side would show through, showing him what he was actually doing. What he was about to do. Danny didn’t seem to notice her begging or at the very least he didn’t seem to care. Adeline pushed herself up to run but she wasn’t fast enough. A harsh blow was received directly between her shoulder blades, forcing any air in her lungs out within a matter of seconds. She choked, falling onto her chest again. Coughing, she made another attempt to steady herself, but another hit was taken on her lower back. It didn’t hurt as bad as the first one, but the initial shock caused her to hesitate for just a moment too long. A rough hand snatched up her arm and suddenly her body was flipped onto its back. Danny dropped to his knees on top of her and she watched his fist slam into her chest.

Another hit.

Another.

And another.

Her face.

Her chest.

Her stomach.

Adeline was limp on the ground, her breathing becoming more and more labored as the sun set behind her. Her vision had gone completely blurry and she could feel the large bruises forming on her skin. He was brutal. Adeline was only 15, this shouldn’t of been happening. She should have listened to you. She should have listened when you told her to find Chrollo and bring him to her. She should have listened when you said to have Chrollo handle ‘daddy’. But she didn’t. Adeline thought she could protect you from Danny. She wanted to be the hero.

“Are you done running, Adeline?” his voice broke her thoughts. She couldn’t even bring herself to make eye contact with him, still watching the sun fall below the horizon, stars beginning to twinkle in the distance.

“Answer me.” the command shook her.

“Yes...” she tried to form the word properly but her tongue was too big for her mouth all of a sudden.

“Yes what?”

“Yes... daddy...” his sexualization of the word sickened her, but she couldn’t bear to be hit again. She might go unconscious if he struck another blow. He stood, taking her by the shirt collar and making her stand. She stumbled, coming across something in her jacket pocket as her hand fell in while she stabilized herself on her knees.

Her house key.

Hope pushed through her misery. She could put an end to this. An end to him.

“Hurry up, your mother can’t be alone for too long, not with that Chrollo guy running around still. Fucking scumbag..” Danny scoffed, turning to face her again. It hurt her to hear him call Chrollo such a thing. Chrollo had been nothing but sweet you her and you when he came over to see you. She wasn’t sure of why it was her specifically that he wanted to see, but that was probably what you meant to talk to her about today.

“Let’s go!” he ordered, waiting impatiently. Adeline didn’t move, thinking her plan out of how to end this man. This horrible, sick man. Her hand stayed within her pocket, fingering the key in thought. Danny’s teeth ground together, his feet stomping up to the young girl.

“Was I not clear enough? I said let’s go-” when he raised his hand to hit her again, he left himself open. Adeline slid the key out of her pocket and dug it across his throat. At first, she thought she failed as no blood even shown. What gave it away was Danny’s mere expression of surprise. An uneven white slit on his neck turned dark red as it spotted with blood. Then, it poured. The red liquid ran down his chest, leaving the man choking on himself. Adeline slowly backed away, hoping he wouldn’t charge at her in a spur of the moment. Danny did no such thing, solely focused on the fact that his throat had been slit. The fact that he was going to die. Adeline didn’t know what else to do other than watch him struggle to breathe. His hands covered his throat for a moment and wiped at the blood, pulling them away again to see the bright red on his fingers.

“You... you cut me...” his voice was weak and shaky. Adeline didn’t reply. She backed away more, falling onto the ground as her legs fell numb from running. She kept backing away from him, trying to keep her distance.

“Adeline...” he was trying to make her feel like shit, and it was working. What had she done? She just killed the man she called her father and for what? Her mother? Herself? She didn’t even know the answer as he crawled forward. She moved backwards, keeping her distance from him. Danny fell to his knees before her, hand outstretched.

“Why would you... why would you do this?” he kept going as if he didn’t know. As if he hadn’t been the cause of so many sleepless night for both Adeline and yourself. How was he not dead yet? He had to die soon, this was too painful for her to watch. Danny balanced himself on his free hand while the other tried to hold his neck closed, stopping himself from bleeding out. Faster, he scrambled towards her. Adeline held no mercy in her leg as it surged outward, kicking him in the nose. He recoiled on the dirt. Crying. Danny had never cried before, in fact, it was always Adeline and you who cried because of him. Nonetheless, listening to the man sob, helpless and dying in the dust made Adeline nauseous. She couldn’t take this, she couldn’t just sit her and watch him bleed out. But she felt like she couldn’t leave him alone here either. Dying alone was her worst fear. The knowledge of murdering somebody and leaving them to nature made her wretch up her dinner. Doubling over, she puked to the sound of Danny’s final sobs.

Her hands trembled as she held the key in her hand. Why hadn’t he continued to fight her? He still had a chance and he just laid there, surprised by her courage to go so far as to slit his throat. Again, her stomach shoved food up and out of her esophagus, a horrid stench clouding her senses. Her shoulders shook as she lay there on the ground. She didn’t even hear the footsteps come up from behind her.

“Adeline?” a gentle male voice startled her, making her gag on her own vomit. She turned, her eyes meeting Chrollo’s. His brows we’re furrowed, worry obvious in his features.

“What happened?” he kneeled down to her, ignoring her mess underneath her and behind her, curled up in the dirt. Dead.

“I... I can’t-” and she threw up again. Chrollo’s hands worked themselves into her hair, pulling it back for her to keep it out of her face.

“You’re okay, I’m right here.” he shushed her gently, his free hand rubbing her back in an attempt to comfort her shaking form. Another vile pool retched out of her mouth, hacking and dry heaving following suit.

Eventually, she managed to calm down. Adeline sat up and wiped her mouth with her jacket sleeve, quickly becoming disgusted with the action and discarding of the attire altogether. She wheezed against her sore throat, the tops of her lungs burning again like when she was running.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Chrollo didn’t even seem affected by the dead man right next to him, even taking a chance to glance at him. His eyes didn’t linger too long on Danny, obviously more worried about Adeline herself than anything. When his eyes met hers again, she couldn’t help but let those tears from before slip out and onto her bruised cheeks and chest. Chrollo didn’t push her any further, instead moving closer to her and embracing her. Every instinct told her to push him away, that she was a monster and that she didn’t deserve this kind of treatment, not after killing somebody. But her weakness didn’t allow her to fight back and she simply melted against Chrollo’s chest, sobbing and quaking. You always told Adeline that Chrollo was a sweet-tempered man, that he was always patient with you and with his friends. It seemed you had been right. He didn’t force Adeline to tell him anything, he didn’t shove her away or treat her unkindly. He knew she wasn’t a bad person and that she was in a state of distress. He had to of known that Adeline wouldn’t kill someone without having a reason. A good one at that.

“Now, Adeline,” he started, lifting her head up to look at him in the eyes. The same eyes as her own. Almost like staring back at her own reflection. It was strange, “I do want to hear about this, however we don’t have much time. We need to dispose of this immediately.” she could hear the urgency edging in his voice, but he still held a level of stability. Adeline nodded, pressing her hands into the dirt to push her body back upright. He followed her over to Danny and thought for a moment, hand on his chin.

“Okay, I’ll have someone take care of this here in a second. I’ll call him.” Chrollo was speaking more to himself than to Adeline, pulling out his phone and dialing a number before letting it ring. She didn’t hear the other end pick up, but it was apparently instant, as Chrollo began speaking to the other man. He gave him their location and the situation at hand, even mentioning his daughter.

At first, this confused Adeline. She wasn’t his daughter. She was Danny’s daughter... her brows furrowed and her arms crossed over her chest. What was he talking about? Sure they had the same eyes and the same hair, and even the same nose now that she really looked at him. You had never told her anything about Chrollo being your father.

“Alright, he’ll be here shortly-” he started after hanging up.

“You called me your daughter..?” she knew it was rude to cut him off, but she couldn’t help it. She felt like she needed to know, felt as if she had the right to know. Chrollo turned his attention her, setting his phone back into his pocket.

“Yes. I did. Y/n never told you?” even through the monotone sound Adeline swore she could hear the hint of pain there. You told her Chrollo didn’t feel much, but when he did they were pretty strong emotions.

“No...” it was the only word she could think of to respond with. At first, she didn’t know how to feel. She didn’t blame you or anything, understanding that she was young and you must not have wanted to confuse her. You may have even planned to tell her now. Then the reason behind Danny’s outrage hit her like a train.

She gasped out loud, her facial expression giving her away. Chrollo’s own features formed into a visual of worry.

“What? What’s wrong?” almost as if it was his instinct. That gave her even more evidence that he was truly her father. Danny never worried about her, but any slight movement drove Chrollo to panic.

“How long until that guy gets here?”

“Already behind you baby~” a deep voice sounded from behind her. Adeline turned around but was met with a stomach instead of a head. Craning her neck up, she found an exceptionally tall man with tan skin and fluffy grey hair. He smiled down at her.

“So this is Adeline boss?” he was addressing Chrollo, who nodded in response.

“Yes, she’s just finding this out as well. Adeline, meet Uvogin.” he explained. Uvogin made a face down at the both of them.

“Wait, you’re saying y/n never told you Chrollo was your daddy?” he kneeled down to her level, she could see his level of confusion even better now. She shook her head.

“Honestly, I suspected considering that my appearance is much like that of his own. Especially in the eyes and the nose,” she turned to face Chrollo who was also watching her, “and I looked nothing like Dan either.” she explained, finding herself being rather analytical. It wasn’t unlike her, as she grew she came to terms with the fact that she enjoyed learning and finding out new things. You always told her that she was intelligent. Uvogin laughed though, standing back up all the way.

“Damn boss she even sounds like you. It’s adorable. Anyway, where do you want me to put this thing? I assume this is Danny?” Uvogin wrapped his hand around the corpse’s waist, throwing it over his shoulder. The sight made Adeline sick and she doubled over again, nearly throwing up. Chrollo was at her side in an instant, holding on to her to make sure she didn’t fall.

“Sorry babe, I forgot you’re not used to that.” Uvogin turned his head away in apology. Adeline raised her hand to signal that he was fine but didn’t turn around for another minute or so, Chrollo soothing her the whole time. She felt dizzy when she met Uvogin’s eyes. The little names her called her were of some comfort, considering this must have been Chrollo’s–her father’s–friend.

“Well, I’ll just take it with me so you two can have your moment or whatever. Tell her everything.” Uvogin sent a finger gun Chrollo’s way and sprinted off, leaving the Chrollo and Adeline alone. She was felt slightly perturbed by Uvogin’s absences, it was so quick.

And tell her everything is just what Chrollo did.

Chrollo told her about how he made you leave in an effort to keep you safe. He told her about his background, about the troupe, about you. About how much he missed you. About how badly he wanted to see Adeline born but he couldn’t because he was too far out. Adeline didn’t interrupt with anything, though she still had so many questions, but he kept going. He must have wanted to enforce as much trust in her as he could. It was working.

“I’m sorry for not being there and I’m even more apologetic for driving your mother away, it was for her safety...” his eyes never left hers.

“I understand, and mom does too. She was just upset.” Adeline accepted this apology even though she felt like he shouldn’t even be apologizing. It wasn’t his fault. He was just trying to protect you the best way he could think of. Chrollo let out a breath she didn’t know he was holding.

“Now, please, explain to me why you killed Danny?” there was no filter. It made Adeline’s stomach churn at the thought, the feeling of the house key tearing through his skin. She took a deep breath.

“I think mom was going to explain everything to me,” her voice had become shaky. She sat on the ground and curled into herself to gain some comfort as Chrollo followed, an arm draping over her shoulders and keeping her close, “and I think Danny somehow found out... and got upset about it. He liked when I called him ‘daddy’ almost in a like sexual way...” she tried to explain without crying but the word was almost triggering. She hated the way he’d make her use it. He become irrationally upset with her if she called him dad instead of daddy. It was disgusting...

“And I don’t know why... I think he... he just...” she was desperately trying to think of her next words. What could she say next? How should this all go? Chrollo was patient with her the whole time, never getting upset with her or scoffing. He just listened. She was so confused on everything that had just happened and the fact that it all happened so quickly.

“I don’t know, all I remember was that mom said she was going to talk to me and then I went in my room for like 5 minutes and then I heard her screaming,” she sniffled, not able to hold back her tears again. Her head fell into her knees for a few minutes before coming back up to take a deep breath, “and a loud bang against the-the counter. Dan was yelling at her about something, I can’t remember. So I went down to see her and make sure he didn’t hit her like I thought he did, but he did. Chrollo he hurt her...” Adeline was full on sobbing again, feeling another round of bile ease it’s way into her mouth. Chrollo’s grip on her tightened and he rocked her, letting one of his hands rub her arm. She laid her head on his shoulder and he rested his chin on her temple.

“Is she okay now?”

“I don’t know. She told me to just go and get help but instead I got upset and threw the pan she was cooking with at him. Obviously he got mad and started chasing me, so I tried to defend myself as best I could and-”

“It’s okay, I understand. It’s alright...” he continued his motions, keeping her at bay from breaking.

“Do you think you can take me to y/n?” Chrollo asked after Adeline had calmed down. She nodded, standing again.

“Yeah, I wanna make sure she’s okay after all of that. He didn’t get to hurt her too bad that I knew of.” she wiped the tears away with her hand, searching for her jacket somewhere. She found it next to a bush along with her bloody house key. Picking both items up she led Chrollo home, hoping to find you there, okay and at the very least, resting.

#Chrollo #chrollo lucilfer #hxh #hunter x hunter #fanfiction #sad #abuse #violence #domestic abuse #hunter x hunter 2011 #Chrollo Lucifer 2011

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yoursummerfrost · 5 years ago

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Hogwarts House Sorting: Lucifer Characters

After hemming and hawing for weeks, I finally decided to commit to making this character analysis. I’ll be using the @sortinghatchats system of house sorting because I really love how much nuance it allows for!

You can find excellent explanations of the system on their blog, but a brief explanation for the un-initiated: Primary houses explain WHY a person does things. Secondary houses explain HOW they do them. Frequently, people may model another house, meaning they borrow that system or approach, but will fall back on their “true” house when the chips are down. Additionally, people can lose touch with their house(s) in a process called burning/falling/petrifying/stripping. Without further ado, here we go! Sortings under the cut. [Spoilers through Season 4].

LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR. I’ll start with Lucifer’s secondary, which I think is more straightforward. Our chaotic Devil is a Slytherin secondary through-and-through. He’s at his best when he’s improvising by charming other people, waltzing into a drug dealers’ home base, or paying off a traffic cop. While he can look like a charging Gryffindor or a favor-dealing Hufflepuff, these are ultimately tools that Lucifer uses to be a more effective Slytherin.

At first glance, Luci looks like a Slytherin primary, too. However, I actually think our titular Devil is a burned Hufflepuff primary who resorted to modelling Slytherin when he Fell. In fact, Luci’s character arc over the course of the show is to un-burn, a journey that starts even before he meets Chloe in the pilot. Hufflepuff and Slytherin primaries are both loyalist; the main difference between them is in the scope of their loyalty. Slytherin primaries prioritize a smaller circle of people whom they have decided to prioritize. In contrast, Hufflepuffs believe in the innate value of people, and seek to prioritize people based on need or a sense of what is fair–in Lucifer’s case, this revolves around the basic right to free will.

Hufflepuffs tend to burn when the world has treated them so unfairly that they end up believing that caring about everyone is an impossible goal. Facing this rejection, they narrow their circles and start to prioritize looking out just for themselves, or a few loved ones. This often comes with a sense of shame: if the Hufflepuff were a better person, they could be kind to everyone (and remember, being kind doesn’t mean being nice). Lucifer is constantly asking himself this question. Is he a monster? Can he be a good person? In the pilot, his first interaction with Amenadiel includes asking, “Do you think I’m evil because I was born that way, or because dear old Dad decided I was?”

At the beginning of the series, Lucifer mostly looks out for himself and, to a lesser extent, Maze. However, even in the pilot, we see glimpses of his inherent sense of justice and compassion for humanity. His interactions with Delilah (and his reaction to her death) set the stage, and his work with the LAPD–beyond his fascination with Chloe–continues the trend. Linda says it best when she tells him, “I think you’re starting to enjoy seeking justice for the good ones.” He only punishes people who have betrayed his innate sense of what is kind and fair–people who hurt other people–and he detests when someone takes away another person’s choice.

This isn’t to say that Slytherins can’t have this innate sense of fairness and compassion; it’s that a Slytherin would still put their “own people” first when the chips are down, and feel good about that decision. A Hufflepuff would feel like they’ve done the right thing when they put the collective good first. When Luci gives Marlotte her own universe at the end of season 2, he’s prioritizing the good of the world–and God and all his siblings in Heaven, estranged they may be–above keeping someone he loves very dearly: his mom. It’s a pretty significant character moment that this is the moral act which gives him his wings back.

Similarly, Lucifer’s pivotal decision at the end of season 4 also shows his Hufflepuff primary. He makes a huge personal sacrifice by going back to rule Hell, and hurts Chloe and his other loved ones to do it too. At the end of the day, Luci wants to do what’s best for humanity, even if it’s at cost to his inner circle. The flip side of this is the very Slytherin decision he makes at the end of season 3 which triggers the reappearance of his Devil face: killing Cain. Lucifer has killed exactly two people, both for the Slytherin motivation of protecting Chloe. Now, we can argue that Luci’s Slytherin model actually served him pretty well here, and the show generally wants us to support Luci after these difficult choices. But the key is in his reaction, which is an intense level of guilt uncharacteristic of someone who genuinely believes that the ends justify the means when it comes to protecting the people they love.

For our true Slytherin primaries, we need to look no further than the occasional murder-buddies, Maze and Dan.

MAZIKEEN SMITH. Maze is a classic Slytherin primary through and through, and she petrifies over the course of season 3. Her Slytherin primary clashes with Lucifer’s Hufflepuff primary as he slowly un-burns; she can’t understand why he cares so much about humans and why he would change for them. It also explains why she’s so betrayed by his refusal to take her back to Hell: For Slytherin Maze, Lucifer refusing to prioritize her must mean that he cares about her less. For Hufflepuff Lucifer, he has to consider the good of the system–and taking Maze back to Hell could endanger everyone else by angering his father. Plus, it would break up the family!

At the beginning, Maze’s circle consists of herself and Lucifer, and she’s willing to go to any length to protect him–including almost killing Chloe and siding with Amenadiel to bring Lucifer home. While her stance on humanity ends up changing, it’s primarily because she finds some humans that she happens to like–Trixie and Linda, first and foremost, though she adopts more as the series goes on. She tells Chloe, “I’m glad I didn’t kill you,” not because she suddenly decides murder is inherently bad, but because she ends up looking at Chloe and thinking, ‘This one is mine.’

Maze petrifies when she slowly loses everyone in her circle besides herself. This starts by Linda and Amenadiel lying to her and spirals out of control when Lucifer refuses to take her back to Hell. “None of you deserve me,” she tells him, and suddenly finds herself with no one to protect but herself. However, Maze un-petrifies at the end of the season; the first step is when Amenadiel shows her compassion, but she ultimately finds her place again when she rushes to save Linda from the bluffed threat from Cain.

Maze is a Gryffindor secondary. She’s at her best when she charges head (and knife) first into situations. However, she also has a Ravenclaw model that, similarly to Lucifer, she uses to make her a more effective Gryffindor. Maze collects weapons and fighting styles in a very Ravenclaw-fashion so that she can be the best possible torturer and bounty-hunter, but when trouble arrives, she’s not going to stop and make a plan–she’s going to kick trouble’s ass.

DAN ESPINOZA gets along with Maze so well because they’re both Slytherin primaries. Dan’s willingness to feed Warden Perry to the mob–and his lack of remorse afterwards–because Perry is a scumbag who hurt someone he cares about is clear evidence of his primary. He also knows exactly where to look for a little backup in Maze, who’s always down to offer him the means to his end. At his “Detective Douchiest,” Dan is leveraging his Slytherin primary to justify his bad behavior. He’s loyal to himself, after all, and throws himself into his work to avoid being attached to anyone else. However, Dan’s primary is also a strength. It makes him fiercely loyal and dependable to the people he loves–willing to do whatever it takes to protect them, or get them the revenge they don’t believe in getting for themselves.

Speaking of throwing himself into work: Dan is a Hufflepuff secondary. He’s a hard-working detective who keeps his head down–which makes him clash with his Gryffindor ex-wife, Chloe, who would rather make loud, controversial decisions in the name of justice–and puts in steady hours to chip away at his goals. When he’s in a good place, he puts a similar work ethic into the people he loves. When he’s in a bad one, he hides behind his work and detaches from the “human” side of his secondary.

CHLOE DECKER. Like I just mentioned, Chloe is a Gryffindor primary who desperately wants to pretend that she’s a Ravenclaw. Her Ravenclaw model–attributing morality to the legal system, carefully considering the facts when making decisions–can serve her well, and she falls back on it when she’s trying to wrangle Lucifer’s Slytherin antics. However, Chloe’s real strength has always been following her gut–occasionally to the point of self-righteousness. This also explains her base moral conflict with Dan, who both prioritizes people over ideals. A similar conflict could exist with Lucifer, but Luci is constantly encouraging Chloe to trust her instincts–he values her true primary more than her model. She has an innate sense of right and wrong that she has to fight very hard to overcome, and things normally go worse for her when she does.

I’m talking about the clusterfuck that was early season 4, obviously. Chloe sees Lucifer’s Devil face at the end of season 3 and is faced with a reality that her Ravenclaw model was stubbornly refusing to accommodate; she has a gut reaction of fear that tells her to run away. This initial need for space wasn’t actually the issue. I think that, if Chloe had met anyone besides Father Kinley, things would’ve been just fine. But when she meets Kinley in Rome, Chloe is manipulated into ignoring her Gryffindor instincts. Her heart is telling her to trust Lucifer–that he’s a good person who she loves. However, Kinley manipulates Chloe into trusting an external source of morality instead: his twisted brand of Catholic pedagogy. What restores Chloe’s conscience is tossing out everything Kinley tries to tell her and realigning with what she feels, which is love for Lucifer.

Chloe is also a Gryffindor secondary, although her Ravenclaw secondary model is more useful and stable than her primary model. Like Maze, she borrows the thoughtful planning and skill-collecting of a Ravenclaw. Chloe tackles cases by examining every angle, carefully interrogating suspects, and weighing the pros and cons of every solution. I would hazard a guess that most of her colleagues assume that Ravenclaw!Chloe is all there is–especially because she seems so much more sensible that her reckless partner. But if we dig deeper, Chloe is more than happy to charge into situations with a stubbornness and bravery that’s nearly unmatched. When push comes to shove, Chloe will take a psychologist on a date rather than wait for special permission to speak to a suspect, leverage Lucifer’s impulsivity to shake down perps, and stand between Lucifer and Cain’s henchmen while daring them to shoot.

AMENADIEL. Our resident solider of God is a little harder to pin down than most of the others for me, primarily because I really want to know more about his time in Heaven before the series started. Amenadiel reads either like a Ravenclaw or Gryffindor primary, though I lean towards a stripped Gryffindor. This is complicated by the fact that Amenadiel was stripped long before he realizes it during season 2. Stripped Gryffindors learn that they can’t trust their own moral compass and have to find a new system to follow instead. I think this happened to Amenadiel when he was still living in the Silver City, perhaps around the time Lucifer Fell, if not before.

Amenadiel functions by being his father’s loyal solider–by doing exactly what he’s told, because it’s supposed to be the right thing. He labels his brother as selfish, reckless, and evil despite harboring a clear love for him at the same time. This cognitive dissonance exists because someone else taught Amenadiel that he should believe those things about Lucifer. He survives in Heaven by falling in line–essentially adapting his father’s party line, like a Ravenclaw would. The issue is that a Ravenclaw would be satisfied with adapting such a system, and would not struggle as much to revise this system later if they found it inadequate.

In contrast, Amenadiel is constantly struggling to figure out what’s right. He’s horrified by his own behavior during season 1, causing him to Fall from angelhood and lose his wings and powers, but can’t seem to re-orient himself. He tries on different hats–first being like Lucifer, then following their mom instead of their dad, and finally trying to follow their dad again–but nothing ever feels right. Amenadiel’s greatest comfort is found in the realization that angels self-actualize. Once this realization comes, Amenadiel learns to trust himself again and regains his wings once and for all.

Amenadiel splits himself between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw secondaries and somehow manages to fail at both. (I say this with love). This is mostly because, I think, his Gryffindor primary is so stripped that his HOW is too detached from a WHY that makes internal sense–this leaves him ineffective and lost. Looking at season 4, though, I think Amenadiel is a Ravenclaw who models a Gryff secondary. While he’s still up for a Gryffindor-esque charge into the fight, Amenadiel approaches Linda’s pregnancy and impending fatherhood with a desire to learn as much as he can and make a better world for his son.

LINDA MARTIN is a Ravenclaw primary who briefly falls when she sees Lucifer’s Devil face, then promptly picks up herself back up and builds a new moral system for herself. It takes her about a week and she’s fairly satisfied with the result, even when her emotional and physical fears flare back up and she has to baby-proof her ceiling. Pre-fall, Linda believed in a system of compassion and warm skepticism, which made her an excellent therapist. She liked to think she might be reincarnated as a chameleon. She enjoyed the process of questioning the world. During her fall, Linda found her current system incapable of accommodating the simultaneously massive and personal scale of Divinity–and post-fall, she builds a new system that largely looks the same as before but, as Amenadiel helpfully points out, contains “different questions.”

With Linda, we’ve finally found a straightforward Ravenclaw secondary, no modelling to be found. Linda likes to plan for trouble, and she flounders when that opportunity is taken away from her. She’s constantly trying to remind people that she’s not that kind of doctor, and while she lets herself get swept up into Lucifer’s schemes–like breaking God out of a psychiatric hospital–she’s never comfortable in that kind of situation and the decisions she makes impulsively don’t tend to work out well for her (see: the resulting interrogation from the ethics review board).

ELLA LOPEZ is another “double” house, and our second Hufflepuff primary. While many people who have a strong religious faith can be seen as Ravenclaw primaries, Ella’s connection to her faith is driven by her innate love for humanity. She believes that people–including the Devil, who she says gets a bad rap–are basically good and deserve love and kindness. After Charlotte’s death, we see that Ella’s response is not to lose faith in her approach to life like a Ravenclaw might–instead, she resents a God who she thought shared her Hufflepuff morals and clearly doesn’t, if such senseless bad things can happen to good people.

Her Hufflepuff secondary is a fairly classic kind, combining cheerful work with an interpersonal warmth that endears people to her. Ella’s natural charisma is a sweet, understated variety that makes even Azrael, the Angel of Death, want to look out for her. While Ella rarely leverages this consciously–and her lack of desire to do so feeds into her charm–there are multiple points in the series where people casually go to bat for her. Two prime examples are when Charlotte tells off Pierce in an immensely satisfying fashion and when Lucifer scares Ella’s brother straight.

CHARLOTTE RICHARDS. Oh, dearest Charlotte. So much of her time is spent in a existential crisis that she’s another hard one to pin down. but I think she’s a Slytherin primary. When Charlotte finds out about the Devil of it all, she doesn’t run like Chloe, and she doesn’t have to reconstruct her view of the world like Linda does. Instead, Charlotte struggles to understand how to be a “good” Slytherin. Pre-trip to Hell, it’s implied that Charlotte lived fairly selfishly, extending her Slytherin circle to herself, her clients, and perhaps her children. Post-Hell, Charlotte is rocked to her core by the realization that she was not living free of guilt.

Now, some could argue that this means Charlotte isn’t actually a Slytherin. However, Slytherins aren’t free from other aspects of morality just because their first priority will always be their chosen people. Charlotte prioritized protecting criminals who she knew did terrible things, and she put herself first to an extent that many people would feel guilty about, even though most would agree that it’s good to put yourself first sometimes. When she’s trying to become a “good” person, Charlotte initially tries to give up her Slytherin ideals entirely. She quits her job and joins the DA’s office, trying to more like the cheerful Hufflepuff Ella.

This ultimately fails; it simply isn’t her. But Charlotte finds success–and a tragic redemption–when she learns that there’s more than one way to be a Slytherin. She turns some of her Slytherin loyalty outwards, towards victims and survivors of domestic abuse as well as new loved ones–Dan, Ella, and Amenadiel. She’s willing to go to great lengths to protect the people in her circle, which is still a very Slytherin motivation, but one that she feels much more at peace with in the end.

As for Charlotte’s secondary? Look, anyone who steals a dude’s motorcycle while cheerfully informing him, “Don’t worry, it’s for God!” is probably a Gryffindor. I don’t make the rules here.

MARLOTTE. The thing about being a Hufflepuff primary is that people matter, but not everyone has the same definition of “person.” At first glance, the Divine Goddess might look like a Slytherin primary. However, I argue that she actually values all “people” equally, it’s just that she considers Celestials to be people, and humanity to be both too foreign and simple to matter. (This logic is, by the way, the same reasons Hufflepuffs are no less capable of racism, homophobia, etc. than anyone else).

Goddess’s primary goal is to reunite her family, sans God, and she’s willing to roast a bunch of humans on the Santa Monica Pier to do it. Humans are fundamentally expendable–except for her “favorite human,” Dan, who essentially gets a loophole when she spends enough time with him and stops seeing him as “other.” But Goddess doesn’t consider any Celestial to be expendable. She’s not willing to harm Luci and Amenadiel, even when she realizes that they were planning to betray her. She doesn’t value herself more than she values her children, and she doesn’t play favorites. If she did, she might be content to try and stay on Earth, or to wage a war in which some of her children (i.e., the ones who didn’t side with her) died. If Goddess were a Slytherin, it would be possible to “kick” people out of her circle, like Maze does when she petrifies. Instead, Goddess’s natural state is essentially inclusive, much like her son, Lucifer–they just have a pretty substantial conflict over who gets included.

Goddess is a determined Ravenclaw secondary. When she needs to make things better with Lucifer, she learns how to make “cheesy noodles.” She throws herself whole-heartedly into learning how to live as Charlotte Richards–including reading every legal book every, apparently. While she’s certainly cunning like many Slytherin secondaries, Goddess actually doesn’t function very well without a plan. Things fall apart for her pretty quickly when she runs out of time in her body and has to make decisions off the cuff. Unlike Lucifer, who works best when he’s under pressure, she needs time to set up her course of action.

EVE is another difficult one to sort because so much of her characterization is about not knowing how she is. This makes her primary fairly obscured, and I hope we’ll see more of her in season 5 so I can revisit this sorting. For now, I’m going with a Gryffindor primary. Eve is motivated by doing what feels good–whether it’s leaving Heaven because she’s tired of being someone’s wife or convincing her boyfriend to punish people. She has an instinctive solution to every problem–even when logic says, ‘Hey, maybe don’t release demons from Hell?’ because she knows how things should be–and that’s with her and Lucifer together.

The reason she clashes with Lucifer is that while Eve’s primary is about ideals, Lucifer’s primary is about people–whether he’s operating on his Slytherin model or his true Hufflepuff primary. Lucifer cares a whole lot about other people’s desires–including Eve’s–but he doesn’t care that much about his own if they hurt other people. Interestingly, Chloe and Lucifer have this same idealist vs. humanist conflict; Eve and Chloe just have very different flavors of Gryffindor morality, and it turns out that Chloe’s ideals match up with Lucifer’s Hufflepuff values more of the time. Furthermore, Chloe comes to accept Lucifer’s Hufflepuff-ness in a way that Eve doesn’t. Chloe actually prefers Luci as a Puff–her Gryffindor righteousness says that they should protect other people, which is the same thing Lucifer wants to do.

Much like Ella, Eve uses a Hufflepuff secondary to build connections with other people that she can depend on. However, Eve leverages those connections on a much more conscious level than Ella ever does–in fact, it’s essentially the first thing that Eve ever does, both in her life and in the series. She starts by connecting herself to Adam, trying to be the perfect wife. Then, she leaves Heaven and seeks out Lucifer, relying on him to help her accomplish her goals. After getting dumped, Eve jumps to Maze instead. She’s a particularly effective Hufflepuff because of her Slytherin model, which allows her to adapt to whatever the other person needs her to be (see: the entirety of “Super Bad Boyfriend.”) You could make the argument that Eve is actually just a Slytherin secondary, since the “chameleon” aspect is so central to how she functions. However, Eve has a level of discomfort with her constant mask-wearing that a Slytherin secondary probably wouldn’t. In fact, deciding to part ways with her Slytherin model and figure out who she is represents Eve’s big character moment at the very end of the season.

MARCUS PIERCE/CAIN. I saved Cain for last because (in my opinion) he’s the closest thing to a pure antagonist that we have on the show, but frankly even that’s debatable [EDIT I FORGOT KINLEY EXISTED LMAO]. Anyways, Cain is a Slytherin primary who has been petrified for so long that he’s ready for a hard-out on the whole immortality thing. The only person in his circle is himself–we see, mostly in flashbacks, that this is because he’s tired of the pain that comes with losing people he loves. Cain only wants to live again once he adds Chloe to his circle and she reminds him what it feels like to have people to live for.

The neat and/or horrifying thing about Cain is that he’s a fantastic example of a truly insidious Hufflepuff secondary. His entire Sinnerman persona revolves around crafting a network of people and resources he can depend on. When Luci and friends put his back against the wall after the death of Charlotte, Cain doesn’t resort to charging, improvising, or leveraging his own skills. Instead, he calls up a bunch of people who owe him favors and are too terrified to betray him, and they do all the dirty work for him. It actually very nearly works, too.

#lucifer #lucifer netflix #sortinghatchats #i have like........so many more feelings but this got so long #but like i have endless thoughts about how different character dynamics are impacted by their houses #idk maybe ill make a sequel to this post with my thoughts on those?#we'll see #I wrote a thing

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giraffles · 7 years ago

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Blaze of Glory

the second of two non-finale compliant The Adventure Zone fics I wrote in a mad dash before that episode dropped, so spoilers up through all of Story & Song and all that. shout out to my friends who came up with this ridiculous, yet so in character, fic idea. parts got a little more angsty than I intended but I’m real good at that oops.

content warning for stuff like drug use, murder, and everyone being completely unashamed about such things. listen. it’s ya boys. do you expect anything less??

Blaze of Glory (side Barry/Lup, please check those tags)

One last mission for a dear friend who can't do it himself, a plate of special macarons, and absolutely no dogs on the moon.

you can also read it here on AO3!

"You sure this is the way?" Merle asks for the third time, attempting to peer over the edge of the parchment. Taako shoos him away, pouring his concentration into trying to figure out if the map was right way up. He should have brought a compass. Or someone with any sense of direction. But there weren't many people he trusted to come along on the mission, and even fewer of them who would approve of it. It was a sensitive topic concerning a secretly sensitive man; one who would never quite understand what they were doing, regardless of the fact he had made them promise to carry out his will. Magical memory loss was a funny thing like that; because how can you miss something, be angry about something, feel any emotion, if you couldn't remember it? Even now, with visions of multiple lives he's lead all clear in chronological order, there's still that headache that comes with it. The bitter guilt and anger over not knowing something so important. Which was why it was just him and Merle-- No Magnus, as strange as it felt not to have him there, because Magnus didn't know any more. "This is definitely the right way." Taako says with confidence far beyond his means. Fake it 'till you make it, he always said. (Or was it Lup who had come up with that one? Maybe things were still a little jumbled.) "Neverwinter is right over there. Beyond that hill." Merle gives him a look that says 'whatever you say, bucko', but only crosses his arms instead of protesting. The dwarf has tried to keep the mood light, and Taako appreciates that, lest the enormity of the situation overtake them. It's one thing to kill bad guys, to strike down jellies and undead and gods-know-what still hid in the dark corners of the world. It's quite another to be actively seeking out someone to murder them. It's not even the murder part that has him distracted. That's easy, and the scumbag deserves it, deserves it a hundred times over for hurting someone so dear. What's got him a little shaken in their part in this new era they've accidentally created. The Day of Story and Song will live on in the collective consciousness of so, so many planes of existence, and they'll always be at the center of it all. Any where they go now, people know. They know of the Starblaster crew, their journey through universes, they know their faces and deeds and some of the stupider things they've done. It makes a lot of things simpler. It makes tracking down a tyrant-ex-governor really fucking hard. Taako resolves to kill him extra dead for making them trudge through all of these swamps. At least anything with two brain cells knows to avoid the two of them, and anything too stupid to get in their path doesn't live long. He can't believe he ever forgot this power, these things that make up his very core, and it's good to burn off a little steam on twig blights and awakened bushes. And now with a decade of extra adventuring under his sleeve, it's only compounded his magical ability. It's the same with all of them. Anyone would be hardpressed to find someone equal to the seven aliens that helped fight tooth and nail for their reality. "D'ya think he's okay?" It's a rhetorical question at heart, yet Merle asks it aloud anyway. "Pff, he's fine." Taako insists as he climbs over a fallen stump and tangle of exposed roots. He has to stop and pull Merle out of the snare when he inevitably gets himself stuck. "I'm sure he's carving ducks or playing ninja or whatever." It's almost too good, how he's able to lie to everyone. Including himself. Because it still feels wrong to be off gallivanting without Magnus. They'd been together for so long, been through tailor made hells and cosmic turmoil as a team. It feels wrong. Merle sighs. "I know, I know. It's for the best. I still feel bad though." "He's fine," Taako repeats, "I made sure someone would be there to keep him busy." And it had been such a trial to arrange everything. Because he had to do it in a way that kept Magnus in the dark while also not raising his suspicions. Luckily, Magnus had been willing enough to accept excuses and place enough trust in them to not notice anything. And maybe that's really what has him in a bad mood, the fact that him and Merle had to betray a man so open and honest. A man who nearly stumbled into their secret meetings about plans and intel one too many times. Taako can't wait to find Kalen and pop one in his ass.

He doesn't catch what Magnus says, but whatever it was, it has Lup laughing hysterically, nearly wheezing as she rolls off the bed. He should really see if she's okay, but judging by her muffled giggles, she's fine for the moment. Barry puts his hand in the cheeto bag, only to come back confused and cheese-less. Had they really finished the whole thing already? "Shh, shh!" Magnus attempts through his own snickers, "You have to be really quiet or it won't work!" "What won't work?" Barry asks. Instead of answering, Magnus rolls onto the floor beside Lup. She's trying to catch her breath, but breaks down any time she tries to look at the fighter. Barry joins them only because Magnus produces a tin of pringles out of somewhere, and certainly not because he felt left out or anything. Certainly not because it's real nice to lay next to Lup and just be, while she's vibrant and warm and very much alive. A lightning strike in mortal form, brimming with destructive potential and yet so sweet in a way that nearly broke him when she didn't come back. Nah. He's here for the pringles. "Lavender." Magnus declares, and Lup loses it again. "The cookies?" They had been vanilla lavender macaroons, right? With enough of each to cover up the pungent drug Lup added to the batch. Where did she even find weed on a moonbase? "Those were chamomile," Lup sounds almost offended, "He means what you sound like, babe." However that doesn't lend any clarity to the statement. "Shhhh!" Magnus places his hands over both their mouths, "You can hear color." The concept is absolutely absurd, because senses don't work like that, and yet he's seriously considering it. Time has already gone a little funky, slipping sideways and slowing to a crawl. The scholar in him has a little voice that pipes up to say that it's just the altered state they're all in-- but it's soft and hazy, and goes quiet even as he tries to chase the trails of academic thought. Lup is laughing again, and it reminds him of the conservatory, of the way the sun caught her hair on an illuminated afternoon, how they shone like strands of gold. Golden and warm and all wrapped up in each other. "Holy shit." Barry says. "I can do you one better," Lup interjects, "Don't move." "Why not?" "Just trust me." She pats both of them on the arm, though she lingers on his. And they're still for a moment, and then another, even though there's a sensation that the world is trying to move around them. He could stay like this for the rest of the night actually. Even fall asleep, maybe. "Woaaah," Magnus sounds blown away by some secret revelation, "I can feel the ground moving." "I know, right? Fuckin' crazy." Barry isn't convinced that's what they're feeling, but he lets it go. No reason to contest the fact. Not when "Operation Distract-Magnus-For-As-Long-As-Possible" was in effect. So far, so good. Hopefully they would be a little less wasted by the time that Taako and Merle got back. Hopefully, they'd be successful in their own mission, and no one would be the wiser. Then again, he had watched them work for a year. His confidence in them might be a little shaky. But that was a problem for future Barry, not high-as-hell Barry.

"We are not lost!" "It's okay to admit you made a mistake," Merle tries to be comforting, "But this isn't the right street." "We. Are. Not. Lost." Taako spits out from behind gritted teeth. The truth is, they're lost. Again. At least this time they're in the city. The really shitty part of the city. Neverwinter is still rebuilding from the ravages of the Hunger, which is heartening to see, and also made their entrance easier. Whole sections are still in ruins however, broken and sad as people try to pick up the pieces, but no one notices the two strangers in their midst. Taako had the brilliant idea to cast a camouflage spell on both of them, lest they be recognized before they could find Kalen. He's so used to having one on normally that it hadn't occurred to him at first. He played it off as waiting for the right moment. Somehow, true to their usual adventuring luck, they'd stumbled into the seedy side of town and gotten turned around. He's not scared of what anyone might try to do to them, not when Merle could backhand them into a wall with divine vengeance. It's the principle of the matter, and the fact that they're wasting time that would be better spent fulfilling a blood oath. "Just ask for directions." "No." "Taako," Merle sounds desperate, "Let's just get this over with so we can go home." Taako takes a deep breath. He's right. If anyone out of the three of them was to be the voice of reason-- Two. The two of them. "Fine," he concedes, "I'll ask the next piece of riffraff we see, but I'll have you know it's not my fault if they steal all your gold." Merle makes a comment that it's usually Taako himself doing the stealing, but he barely hears him as they round a corner and nearly collide with a group of rough looking men. He has a moment of regret for making himself look like some sort of ethereal beauty. Merle looks like an unassuming and grubby halfling with the spell, mostly because he thought it would be funny. But now they're staring down three humans and someone who might be half orc, looking at them like treasure has just fallen into their laps. "Hail and well met, my dudes," He forces a smile, "Would any of you happen to know the way to the Cheap Rat?" "That's not a place for the likes of you." One leers at them, at least a full foot taller than Taako. He also smells like he hasn't showered in a week. Gross. "Full of dangerous pieces of riffraff, it is." Oops. Him and Merle make eye contact.

Suddenly, it's show time. He can say later that it was a badass, almost graceful fight, but it was really a lot of screaming and spell casting, over nearly as soon as it started. Merle even gets a hit in with Smoosher for good measure. Taako steps over their unconscious and bloodied bodies with disdain. At least they're not dead. He's pretty sure they're not dead. The amount of fucks he has left to give are approaching a dangerous low. "God, can't ask for one easy job." Taako complains as Merle wipes his warhammer on one of the thug's shirts. "I dunno, that was pretty easy compared to other times." "I'm not sure if anything can top some of those 'other times'," Taako air quotes, "Good shot at his knee, though." "I wasn't aiming for his knees." Merle mutters, and he drops that thread of conversation.

The Cheap Rat is a semi-famous pub in the Rogues Quarter of Neverwinter. It's famous for it's booze, hard-to-find location, the no questions asked policy, and again, the cheap booze. Taako has collected multiple reports of a man matching the slimeball’s description frequenting the establishment. He's reasonably sure this is where they'll find him, and if not, maybe they can get a lead to follow. It's a dingy, beat-up looking place, but is surprisingly crowded and filled with joyous voices within. Another day he might have even considered grabbing a drink there. Taako and Merle turn a few heads when they walk in, but they don't find any trouble beyond having to push through throngs of people to reach the bar. Merle is delighted to find that the bar stools are specifically designed to allow shorter races to climb up them, which is explained when he realizes the woman behind the counter is a halfling. She's installed runners along the back of the bar so she can stand level with even tall elven patrons. "What'll it be, boys?" She asks in a sing-song voice. Another halfling darts behind her with multiple overflowing glasses. As tempting as it is, getting lit probably isn't the best plan. Spell casting while tipsy is a big no-no. "Nothing for me, thanks, but listen, darling," She raises an eyebrow at the pet name but he continues on, "We're looking for a friend of mine." The word 'friend' in this context is like acid on his tongue. Taako smiles through it. She pauses, then leans on the counter towards him. "What kind of friend?" "I thought people didn't ask questions here," Merle pipes in, "Or was that a different rodent-themed bar?" The halfling laughs, and starts pouring a glass of whiskey. "No, you've got the right one. Why don't you two come on back and we can talk?" That sets off a red flag or seventy, but he's not sure he wants to risk trying to read her mind on the off chance the spell will fail. For once they can't rush in and take things with brute force. And he doesn't want any collateral damage, heaven knows Kalen has already caused enough of that already. Magnus wasn't the only one who lost someone when Raven's Roost crumbled. "Alright." He agrees tersely, and Merle follows as the halfling pulls them into a backroom. The door shuts behind them and the sounds of the Cheap Rat instantly cease. Taako senses a warding barrier, typically used against eavesdropping both mundane and magical, and he tries to calm the danger alarms going off in his head. Merle shifts nervously. "I know who you are," She pulls a necklace from under her shirt, "This little baby negates most illusion spells. And may I say, I'm honored to have you both!" Her eyes sparkle with admiration even as he's running through three different escape plans. Like the idiot wizard he was, he never thought that someone might be able to counter something so simple, ruining their disguise and with it the element of surprise. Hundreds of near misses rattle around his head with the chorus of what if, what if, what if; And that's not mentioning the times things went horribly wrong regardless. Merle kicks him. Knocked out of his near-panic trance state, Taako recovers. "Well, uh, that saves us a lot of trouble then." "I'm Tuge," She offers, "Who are you looking for and what can I do to help?" They do their best to explain the situation without giving up too many personal details. The incident at Raven's Roost isn't often talked about, but Tuge already knows about it. Her face darkens when he tells her who they're chasing and why. "That motherfucker," She fishes a key out of her pocket and tosses it to Taako, "Up the stairs, fourth door on the left. Try not to get blood on everything, yeah?" "Loud 'n clear, miss," Merle nods, "Thanks for your time." "Let me know if you need anything else!" Tuge calls after them as they slip out of her warded room and bolt up the tavern stairs. Stealth is neither of their's forte, so he's thankful now for the ruckus of the bar customers below. Even so, they creep along the wall, moving as only fast as they dared to. Taako can barely focus past the rapid fire pace of his heart, ramped up on adrenaline and fear and maybe a little thrill. They reach the fourth door on the left. He places the key in the slot and turns it slowly. They both slip in before slamming it shut behind them. "What the hell?" Snaps a man at the desk. He's aged, but still looking well off enough to maybe pass as nobility. Graying. A little fat. "Who the hell are you?" Taako dismisses the camouflage spell on both of them. Kalen's eyes go wide. "Your worst nightmare." He takes out his wand and Merle casts zone of truth. Because of course he does. At least he's good at it. "It's not--" "Oh no," Merle waves Smoosher, "Oh no, you don't get to try to explain yourself. End of the line, bub." "We were asked to do one thing, and one thing only," Taako snarls, "And that was to kill you fucking dead. This is for Julia." Kalen doesn't have time to grovel before he's shredded by a high-level magic missile.

The trip home to the Bureau of Balance headquarters is done in relative silence. He doesn't want to admit how good it felt to murder that bastard in cold blood. He doesn't want to think about how exhausted it all made him. They sit in the ball in the carrier bay for longer than they need to, quiet, until Avi raps on the glass door. "Uh, guys?" "We're comin'." Merle sighs and pushes the hatch open. Taako follows, mostly on autopilot as Avi chatters about something or other-- "Wait, back up, Magnus is what?" "Crying in the middle of the quad," Avi confirms, "I'm not sure why. The Director-- I mean, Lucretia, she's already there." He groans. He asked Lup to do one goddamn thing. Today has already dragged on too long. Taako braces himself for what they might find while they hurry up to the main level. Lucretia is indeed there, looking more exasperated than concerned, with Magnus sobbing on the grass and Lup gently patting his shoulder. Barry looks like he's asleep face down under a nearby tree. Other employees are giving them a wide berth, with no one even attempting to come close to find out what's wrong. It's a very suspicious scene. "There you two are," Lucretia looks relieved, "He's been like this for the past half hour." "What even happened?" "I promise I'll take care of it and everything!" Magnus weeps, "I can even build a fence so it can't run off the edge of the moon!" "I told him he couldn't get a dog," She explains, "And I really just meant he can't go while he's so... intoxicated? Honestly, I'm not sure what the three of them got into." Taako has a pretty good idea. "It's okay buddy," he hears Lup begin, "I'll go steal you fifty puppies. How does that sound? As many puppies as your big arms can hold." Magnus sniffles. Then he starts crying harder. Lucretia rubs her face. "I guess he's mostly fine." Merle says. Taako tries not to laugh. "I can't protect that many puppies!" Magnus wails, "How am I supposed to protect them all?" "Yeah," Taako agrees, "I think he's gonna be just fine."

#the adventure zone #taz #taz fanfic #blupjeans #sorta #fanfiction #ao3fic #drug cw #murder cw #weed cw #I'll never come up with a better title in my life #that's it I'm all tapped out forever #go home kids #and 420 BLAZE IT #anyway #giraffles

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genamartian · 7 years ago

Conversation

Him: are you okay?

Me: yeah

Me, internally: Hey poopy, I'm Andy Patton of the East Chicago harbor in Indiana, before reading about my indiana jones lifestyle, have a go at tetris which is about to load, make a high score, and use my page just like your personal black and white gameboy, and relax with me like i'm your lazyboy barcalounger!!

[Here comes the game] Source: Crazy Games

........... I got a pell grant for film school because i'm poor and might choose Chicago University this fall or winter. i'm single baby!!! But not in the sense where i'm fucking other people n shit, its been 6yrs not being with a woman, I've had 8 dates since jail and got to kiss and hug a girl but that was years ago, I miss human touch, i'm scarred from heartbreak but also i don't succumb to lonesomeness and have someone beside me for the time being as a renter to my heart, i seek love and not fingerbangs, i'm a novelist of dozens of books (details in my publshed folder on my facebook .com/boathopper page, add me)..... I have 1,000+ short films, 3 films, one of them i killed 80 actors in, its called 'the tenderizer' and it had a zero budget which raked in a few grand of clothing/vhs tape sales.....i have a fantasy novel that can be read in its entirety for free at http: //shakeyquakeyridenovel.blogspot.com/ and it could be bigger than harry potter but nobody reads anymore.... and i have another book you can read for free at http://platdnovel.blogspot.com/ ........... i had a script in hollywood bounced around called boathopper which is science fiction about a monster slamming into our oceans, but the serial killer described in it is identical and predates the 'dexter' book and show, and yes its copywritten just like the rest of my sampled work, stephen king even samples me, and i've overtaken him in quantity as well in my opinion as quality, i'm to the point and don't drag on bullshit fluff for too long, to see more about the dexter narrative and incredible journey your detections could take just youtube 'andyp's arduous travels of an unrenound serial killer'. my body is caked and dented in scars, lacerations and holes because i'm a good person, a strong person, doing good things in a horrible place, this earth, but i'm retired and yet i haven't even begun, i'm the type of person that's been all over the world killing warlords and thousands of the cruelest people known to exist, so the mysteriousness is lain in this, am i a serial killer? or just a shadow operative navy seal?........ i've had troll blogs devote themselves to me before, but here's one that's the most recent, i love my haters suhn https://kiwifar.ms/threads/andy-patton-aka-clivedavinci-loveshy-filmmaker-who-is-apparently-the-true-creator-of-dexter.11274/ ........i really am a mass murderer, my reins controlled by the police, and knowledge of me by other precincts one by one, year by year, being like an internal affairs of hitmen for them, to the most redtape entanglements that bother each depeartment, all secret, commissioned by a government program later, and then after my r.o.t.c i took out of highschol, where i aimed high towards the air force the seals nabbed me out of the air force, my intellect and my physical attributes is extremely rare, i could’ve easily gotten a wrestling scholarship to purdue after i had a walk on match with a dude from iowa and slammed his huge cornfed ass to the mat so hard he got hurt, i realized i can’t be invovled in regular heights of the elite, i couldn’t go backwards from what i had became, since i was a boy i’ve been in china in training programs, i honestly led a life just like d.a.r.y.l the movie, exept i wasn’t a robot, even figuratively in the sense of a sociopathic mindless servant or psycho, i was bombarded by compassionate teachings, my mother a police officer the leadrope to all of this, allowing this, she’s caught serial killers and crimelords, and one time it backfired, horrible men came and abducted me, and tortured me, they bordered on white supremecy and satanists, my mom didn’t find me that long month, the police didn’t find me, this was even in a newspaper, but all knowledge of this ever happening has been redacted and destroyed, nobody could find me, i was 6yrs old, three powerful men sexualy abused me, physically burned me, broke my bones, my rectum had been split open, i was beaten purple with my eyes swollen every couple days when i started to heal, where they would bust me up again, nobody knew where i was, on one of the most high profile cases my mom ever took, she did come to rescue me with the murderers in the house still there, in their total ignorance of evil and what they can get away with, with a young innocent boy, they left their knife that they cut me with on the mattress 3 seconds too long, and i turned into chucky, i snapped, i had absolutely no fear, i didn’t wanna run out of a door, blood pooled all over the floor, it was always my blood, seeing your reflection in your own pool of blood as you cry for help night after night as you lay to try to get comfy to sleep which you can’t becuase you’re bruised all over, does something to someone, something snaps, like how a virgin’s skin does when a scumbag pops their cherry, i became chucky, i had developed tactical defense, and didn’t keep stabbing one of them, i sliced one of them down crying, then hid and waited for the next and sliced him, and i waited many hours in the house, not leaving, not picking up the phone yet, waiting for the other to arrive, in the dark i came at him, where he had no time to react, i climbed and took the bulbs out, and easily made my way to get him too before he saw the scene int he bedroom, i sliced away his achilles as i jutted out behind a couch, those long hours before he came and met his demise, i’d played, like a child with toys, but i played with my knife, a memento i still have, a murder weapon of the most grotesque, i stabbed at every part of their skin, i even kept one of them alive, and took out each of his eyes andn let him squirm around, something inside me took over, and it was GOOD as much as it had been horrible, it must’ve been something put there by god and vengence, and i finally called my mom and we talked on the phone, booking had listened in, her friends, i explained but they were confused, i told them they were still in the house with me and they can come over,i couldn’t talk properly, i hadn’t really known what i’d done, it was like i was possessed, i blubbered crying on the phone just hearing her voice, she was the first one to the scene, there were other cops that came later, which contradicted a way out for me that she would have to face, her son, which the world woudln’t wanna face, and instituionalize me for, those cops got fired for something she had to fenagle, it was her son, or them, you’re forgetting that i was a murderer, although 6, doesn’t matter, all the murderers were stilll in the house, but they were all dead, and cut to pieces, and it took my mom probaby 10 full minutes to unclench my hand around my knife, and dthat was only because i allowed it, because we came to a truce where she’d let me keep it, it was a part of me now, it saved me, it helped me, it was my friend, yes i wrote a novel predating dexter called boathopper where its science fiction, but the myth of a dexter like child in blood had been passed around precincts long before that, it was covered up but there’s always trace gossip, it became a legend, i’ve worked in moscow with putin, i’ve been taught by spies, everytime i’m pulled over the cops freak out becuaase my rapsheet is so long, and that’s just in america, but i’m always a victim or witness, i’m always acting and protecting people, never a bad person, just misunderstood, all the cops protect me, all the agents, the stint i did in calif was my exes doing, i remember traveling ALOT, missing alot of school, but always coming back, pretending to be in school, hanging out with my friends, iwas bombarded by animals, i loved animals, i wasn’t a maniac to ever hurt one no matter my blood rage, but i was taken to villages a round the world to share love with good people and experiences, and to always train, and to even kill, i needed to kill, a lifetime of killing, decades of it, thousands of horriblly evil people around the world, especially china, india and the middleeast before soldiers ever got there, was my purpose in life, i could chameleon into any cell, or group, i was invisible and innocent, and with training i was a weapon, all my education when to combat and stealth and learning many languages, and i served my agency proud, and when i tried to resume a regular life i couldn’t, i was hurting people in sports, not really trying to, my training i held back on, and just used physical standards, but i had too much rage, its like i wanted to see people bleed, i’d been around the world helping animals, trained as an assassin, trained by seals, educated by scholars, there are good sects in this world when you’re facing incredible circumstnces, as well as bad sects like terrorists or satanists, and they caught wind and found my mom as she had sought something like them too, onlhy a few people know about this, after the rotc, i went to the air force for a few months, then leaped to the seals and i’ve been putting away badguys, and hopping back to the states for my character andn presence ever since, i’m a honed tactician, i’m beyond liam neeson, i’m a good person, i have compassion for everyone, but i have a screw loose, and i need love, and i’ll never find it, i’m calmed now and ptsd of wartime endevours you just get used to, compared to childhood traumas, i’m retired, vocalization and protest is what changes laws and leading by example helps animals in the world, i just need someone to spend my life with now, i had a good girl once, who was teetering on the side of cdraziness, enough crazy and cool to put up with me, but she was taken by this horrible world, i needed saved and she abandoned me, her best friend, i’m looking for someone new to come into my life and not be so fussy and close minded,k i’m still just a child needing affection, someone save me ......i'm the funniest person probably in the world in person, but i've gotten shy and reclusive the last decade, from my loved ones dissected and murdered in hospitals, to love stricken from me like a lightening bolt, i used to love dancing in clubs/weddings with any hot girl, but i could never dance again having lived the shit i've went through with my ex slowing metamorphasizing into a prostitute, and it began from the attention she got from me taking her out to clubs and being mixed in an elite environment and dancing with her making her feel a little bit too great to the point she needed to have that drug 24/7, so she slowly went out and forged it, dancing is the work of the devil i know see, its like that george michael song 'i'm never gonna dance again' love just gets taken from you and you become a bitter person because of it, i'm still funny, but it has to be the right setting, i have to be feeling good or buzzed or have a fleeting bliss of happiness, i can get really fucking dark sometimes to the point its scary, you mix i've been an eliete in sports amongst other things in my life, alongside my talented writing that's grosser and more depicting and original than anything clive or king could right, and you'll have a formula of fear, i mean one story i killed god himself, its on my fb in my notes titled 'the after', i've cursed god for the last couple decades of my life, not because i'm an atheiest or don't believe in a god entirely, but because if there was one, i figured he was absolute evil, like a parent abandoning children in a dingy motel or something, forced to fend for themselves because they don't know better, i have many thoughts on god but i'm a philosopher too, so that's a topic that can go on forever, for the most part, i vent, i'm fuming mad, but i'm the most passive human being you'll ever known, and the people beating upon me in life can attest to it, you see those vines or gifs with cats beating the shit out of large enormous strong dogs? well that's me, no matter what i'll never bite, i just seem to bark alot because i'm lonely, and still so heartbroken, i've never filled in that gap of a 'friend' or a 'fuckpal' or a partner in my life since my breakup, i'm not doing it right, like everyone else copes, i don't deal with death the same either, i'm careless to it and am enlightened to not get attached anymore, to anything, seeing dozens of my family put in the ground, it just takes a toll of carelessness, its something i don't want to deal with anymore, my cat was the height of all the bad in my life, a year ago my sister allowed this prostitute that was living next to me in my room to throw a fuckparty in the entire house, and my cat kidiot got outside, and this was when i was tossed out of that drughouse for not reason on top of it by the very multiple cops that were banging my sister, someone i cared about, and my cat kidiot who i've had a decade, got trapped and starved to death in a hot shed, just a glimpse at the kind of shit i have to go through ad cry over in my life, and its not because i'm a bad person, and its not from strangers, its from people closest to me, its always like that for me and i'm uncertain why........15 of my short films are pretty good, but maybe i'm just being modest and don't determine my worth properly,you'd have to type 'andyp's short films' to see some on multiple accounts, i'm always deleted, a rebel on youtube, i have a hellraiser script at hellraisernightshines.yolasite.com, another tumblr at clivedavinciromance ............ i was entering a finished 3rd horror feature into sundance but its incomplete, i made it by myself in a empty building when i was homeless, its under 'sundancers andyp's' on youtube, the 2nd part is the best, my 1st two features were generic slashers and don't count as serious, i'm finishing up another book, a fantasy novel i think will be bigger than harry potter...i WILL become larger than stephen king, and you wonder why i choose such a high totum to climb other than a smaller horror writer? well its because i've finished libraries of writing, novels and shorts, all the decades i've been alone and sad in a dark room as an introvert, what is dormant, and what is almost accomplished is more thatn king, almost, i need a few green miles and stand by me's first, and then i need a few other stories and books and i will have achieved more elaborate words than star wars or marvel combined, i just have to get them seen is all, tha'ts the hard/easy part......i hang out with my gay friends in portage, they're all i have in my life, my mexican bestie is leaving ot vegas, i don't have any other real friends, and no family left, i'm just all alone in the world, i drive a stupid car i spraypainted purple, i act like a retard because i want to filter through phony uptight people, i want a real cool, good girl, who doesn't fuck everyone like everyone in society does, i want a lover and rebel and fighter, not someone who's ordinary like my ex who breaks hearts and breaks herself off pieces of dick at any whim, i haven't kissed a girl in over 2 years. I'm not a sleazeball, i've only had 3serious long relationships, that means i've only had sex with 3 people, no additional fingerbangs or buttfuckings, maybe i kissed ten more girls, but that's it. I say heartfelt poems or perversion after almost every pic i reblog, so the history of my tumblr is quite a reading adventure. I'm a horror writer, here is a link to my newest collection of stories http://www.lulu.com/shop/andrew-patton/reflections-in-the-dark/paperback/product-20340079.html I'm an animal activist.gay rights activist, civil rights activist and women's rights activist, BUT I differ in opinion about bisexuals, not for them personally, but from my own experiences of people being able to fuck how many people they want without consquence to character, the last time i checked if someone was unsure if they liked women or men more they weren't tasting all those crotches, they went about their business and didn't need a stamp that i feel is an equivalent to yelling 'hey i'm in bars fucking this guy, fucking that guy and i don't give a fuck', well that's fine, live how you want, but in your abundances of pussy/dick and indecision, i'm all alone, and i'd be humbled to just hold and love ONE PERSON, and that's were the idea of the 'title' not the 'person' bisexual comes into conflict with me, its saying 'i'm samantha from sex and the city and slopping up weiners and hot snatches left and right, so fuck you', i don't hate anyone, i'm understanding of nearly anything, i try my hardest to dissuade violence or hate in any way i can, i just think the terminology used to describe someone as a bisexual is just for show, if they don't know if they love and man or woman, who's to say they even love men or women? but their travels and undertakings of trying to find that out are being stamped and revealed for all the world to know about, and i don't dislike it, i just think its as tacky as me posting my boner videos in my underwear is all, its sleazy to your eyes, but you don't understand me right, like i woudn't understand you? in such perversion there is actual sweetness in me and reasons i do this crazy shit, bisexuals and their silly title which is basically just saying you're a hippi is just offputing to some, like me who had a girl i loved who became bisexual, yet all she's doing is fucking people for money, and i bet alot of people have sex and not for love and in doing that i'd never wanna be stamped with something, in a broad sense sure, but me, i'm an individual and i'm kind and good and accepting of all of you and love all of you so what the fuck matters our personal bickerings ya know?....... stupid groups of people like most feminists, most of what p.e.t.a does, truth anti smoking commercials, etc, bother me, because these consist mainly of spoiled brats not really doing anything, having a campus activity n shit, not empassioned deeper, not being in any form of fight, just a lap of luxery, forcing their beliefs or ways of life on you even if they are the most insane selfish things imagineable, i think i used to be bitter about hipsters too, just anyone who is phony as fuck, hell it could even be described as a rare unicorn of a girl i liked, doesn't matter, superficiality annoys me more than anything......... like i actually argue with people who do gangbangs and have swinger parties, could they honestly justify that disgusting shit to me, do it on your own time and leave me out of your sexcapades, seeing those depictions in 'bruno' or something, or me personally jacking off to threesomes n shit in porn is one thing but if you're gonna come on my page and bitch and moan i think that's 'sleazy' since it doesn't invovle TWO people, but instead involves multiple people, then you're just dumb,.............. i'm the most fucked up person alive, stranger by far of any human alive, i have an imaginative mind but i also have social skills, i know what its like being lonesome its why i hate when people just fuck tons of others, they spit at something i wish i had, they are gluttonous. My idols are Clive Barker, i made my art collection entirely out of scratch but i had him in mind to impress him, and i also made a book of short stories like his books of blood, i'm very similar to him, a huge fan, but it wasn't on purpose, its weird, its liked he fucked my mom in the 70's before he went gay or something, Stephen King, Kenny Hotz, Wayne Pacelle of the hspca, and others, even steve o and tom green. i'm the poorest person i know, yet i give my singles to bums, i'm selfless, i'm lazy, but when i have ambition like someone helping me, i'll create milestones. i make all my videos mostly in this loft at my moms house, i'm stuck here until my federal probation is up, not like i'll go anywhere else unless i get mental disability, i have no drive in life for average shit, i'm a creator, not an assembly line worker, i don't need the shit that money can buy, i'd never go to disneyland again even if someone bought me a package cause i think its extravagent and there are kids that will never see that place, i'd let them go in my place. i dislike snooty superficial people who act like they are better than you and are mean and bully and act like they're cool, when really they are fucking ignorant whiny brats in college or some shit trying to find their identities; they are jackoffs. so beware if you get offended by something i say, which is almost always a joke, cause i'll outdebate you and i'm VERY mean to bullies who get used to being tools in their normal lives with normal people, cause i'm not normal, i'm elite, cream of the crop, super large penis machoman, and i'm wittier, funnier and fucking the coolest fuck you'll ever know period, so bitches on their periods stand no chance either. My trolling book is blowing up, its sold 43 copies now, i've made it cheaper, black & white, so i'm making money now, DON'T USE CREATESPACE they are not creative friendly. you can find my large magazine type trolling book here.. http://www.lulu.com/shop/andrew-patton/trolling-101/paperback/product-20324152.html I've been raised by women without a father, i'm very feminine but strong, so don't turn me into an angry woman that will tell you off, but it takes alot to even get me mad, it just may seem i'm mad cause i'm pretty creative and outspoken, but really, i just laugh at your insults and bullying and i destroy anything you shit out with my verbal reckonings. I don't think i'm better than anyone, i'm kind to everyone, and that's what opens my mouth in the first place, is people attacking me or trying to bully me, it reminds me of how they could be doing it do someone else, like a gay kid, a black person, a woman, and it pisses me off. scene kids are the worst, almost like nazis cause they are a form of upper rich caste system that thinks they're better and they get snobby and uptight and its fucking annoying. I'm faithful,, sometimes romantic, sometimes funny genuine human. I dob not have anything in common with humans, I feel I'm more intelligent and its a burden being in a way, an ugly duckling. But I relate to morons too, because I am a stupid moron sometimes, I'm silly like that. next month i will have seen 10 psychiatrists in my life yet there's nothing even wrong with me.I'm the kind of person who would volunteer his head to a row of nazis so that others may live, i'm selfless. I'm also the kind of person who would be the ONLY one to stand up and risk not being hidden anymore, risk being killed by those nazis just to stand up to them. I'm a leader. I've led 100 of the world's worst maniacs in a jail cell for a year, I was on the back of a 7ft nigerian man preventing him from killing someone, I was a good person in a bad place, like jesus walking this shitty earth. Upon an apoclypse in 2012 i can lead the world to peace. i'm also the kind of person that is a fighter, i can be on my bloody knees before a dozen nazis and slice all their throats in moments before they know what's happening. I've only been with 3 girls, all long relationships and am still looking for my true soul mate on this planet, I've scavenged billions of galaxies looking and my search has ended here. You're here somewhere, I sense you. My ex got me put in jail to become a pornstar? She sent a threat to Kevin Spacey's website. The fuckers stole my movie 'The Thing' but made it shitty, read my synopsis or script at thethingfromanotherworld.webs.com. 2nd time feds kicked in my door, guns blazing, I told them my gf had shaved a penis in my chest hair, which she really did the night before, they looked and laughed and withdrew their guns out of our faces, I basically saved that crazy ex ponrstar, tattood bitch's life with my wittiness and her stupid art project she did on me when she was bored. Plus, having a lifesize darth maul figurine at the foot of my bed didn't really solidify to these saps I was a real serial murderer. I'm a handyman and can do just about anything, I'm currently building a movie set for my next silly video. I type 100 words a minute. I'm great with my mind, hands and dignity and I apply those things to women. I'm the most compassionate person alive or who has ever lived. I'm a registered rehabber wih the D.N.R. of Indiana. I"m incredible in all sports. I love spending time with someone I love watching movies and going out to eat, just waiting on that right girl. I have a bachelor's in English, and an associates from Minneapolis in Art instruction, but I'm happy with being a loser, being poor and having no future, I'm just trying to manage every day on this shitty planet, being a very lonely wise thing. I've been to California a dozen times in the last 2 years and not for vacation or my own accord (long story). I'm VERY down to earth and give great advice. If I could go to Chipotle daily I would, but I have no girl in my life, no significant other, no waddling penguin, no friend to hold my hand. i do like a girl alot, but i realize how fucked up i am, sometimes i don't even want to get out of bed, i'd need her to understand what its like to be lonesome and depressed, i really miss holding someone. we're all doomed to die, it sucks, i'm just trying to make my life as comfortable as possible with the little means i have, hopefully they'll put me on mental disability and i can continue my writing without having to work shit jobs to make ends meet, or save for a date with a girl and it never happens anyways go to a few of my sites myspace.com/andyp6 or Andy's Facebook link is below, its facebook.com/boathopper i have a new myspace account but rarely use it

#clivedavinci

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farewellsallyboots · 7 years ago

Text

How's everyone coping with the Cal feels as we approach the next round of painful episodes?

I was in my car the other day and was hit with them. Tears at the traffic lights. Mascara down my face. Beautiful. And not an ideal time for tears. >_>

Well, part of me is eager to (finally) get to the Ethan focused eps, but another part of me is super anxious for how things will go down. Will these episodes do Cal’s death (AKA: THE WORST DECISION CASUALTY HAS MADE IN ITS THUS FAR 31 YEARS) justice? Will we be satisfied with what the writers bring us?? Man, I hope so. But I’m just not 100% convinced I will be. I don’t think I can ever be “done” with this rip-my-heart-from-my-chest storyline…

Here are a few things I’d like/need to see happen/stuff I just want to get off my chest:

~ DARK ETHAN I really REALLY need to see Ethan angry AF. I want him to LOSE HIS SHIT!!! Looks like we’re getting some Dark Ethan tonight. That clip of him being pinned against the wall by Scott total-mother-fucking-scumbag Ellison? I want Ethan to use all his strength to overpower him and THROW HIS SORRY ARSE TO THE FLOOR!!!!! (Come on, the little shit has one arm in a sling ffs!!!) And get a few kicks in before some interfering soul pulls you off him, baby!

~ SCOTT TOTAL-MOTHER-FUCKING-SCUMBAG ELLISON He needs to PAY. Seriously, I despise everything about this character, including the writer(s) who created him!! I am livid that he is bold as brass back in the ED tonight all “Wah! Save my brother!” Excuse me??!! You want Ethan to save your brother after brutally murdering his?? Are you for real?? I know there’s speculation about him going over the balcony, but I’m not sure that’s enough. I need to see him pay BEFORE he goes over. I need to see the murdering bastard PAAAAYYYYY for what he’s done!!! (LET ME AT HIM!!!!)

Why the fudge is he hanging around after Cal’s funeral? Is he just taunting Ethan for his own sick amusement? Who does that??

What did he do with his blood stained clothes and that knife? Is there really not any CCTV down that alley? Or is it a black spot??

Was this prick born without a conscious???

~ DARK ETHAN TO SCOTT TOTAL-MOTHER-FUCKING-SCUMBAG ELLISON I want Ethan to say something like: “You want me to save your brother? Because you love him? You’d do anything for him? Imagine for a moment if someone took him from you… You took my brother from me. I loved him and you took him away from me. You don’t even have the decency to admit it. My brother… he was 33 years old. He had everything to live for. You took his life and left me with nothing to live for. Tell me again why I should save your brother?”

~ BROKEN ETHAN Ok, he’s already broken. Beyond repair!! But I want more scenes of him lost and alone and afraid of a future without Cal by his side 😢 I adore Ethan, and I feel bad for even thinking of him in (more) pain. But I want the writers to show how much Cal’s death has ripped through him and changed him forever. He can’t ever be the same awkward and adorkable Ethan who walked through the ED’s doors over 3 years ago… (And where are his glasses? I’m still concerned about his glasses . His eyesight is important. Are you wearing contact lenses now, Ethan? It’s ok, just tell me.)

~ THE INTERIM: BETWEEN *THAT* EPISODE AND NOW Ethan’s face when he walked into resus and saw Cal has been haunting my dreams. Ugh, that raw emotion! (You broke me, George Rainsford, you totally broke me). I keep thinking about what happened immediately afterwards. How long did they let Ethan stay with Cal? Who pulled Ethan off Cal’s body? Did someone stay with him that night? And who went with him to register the death? Arrange the funeral? These things are important. (If any fanfic folk fancy telling this story, I’m ready for more tears -_-)

Aaand I still HATE that they didn’t get a goodbye. Did someone on the writing team hate the bros? I mean, WTF??

~ DYLAN Ok, I get why he lied to Ethan. Poor Ethan had just lost his only brother, his only family… He was not ready to hear that his brother died scared for his lil bro’s safety and that his last word was ETHAN. (Bloody hell, I just welled up). But I really need a tender scene between them where he tells him the truth. I’m sure it will come out somehow, especially as Dylan’s clearly suffering his own demons from not being able to save Cal after telling him he wouldn’t let him die… but a scene between these two, a moment where he tells him the truth about finding him bleeding in the rain and how the first thing he did was ask if his brother was ok??? Ugh! My heart needs this.

~ ALICIA I really don’t want to dislike the girl, but she needs to step up. They’ve got her being too ‘fa la la’ fine since Break Point, in my opinion. Shouldn’t she be a tad more upset over Cal? You remember Cal, right Alicia? Your ex boyfriend? Your current boyfriend’s brother. Your boyfriend’s only brother. Murdered. Outside the ED?! Hello?? Don’t call Ethan out on his “you don’t care who you destroy” behaviour! Be in his corner! (And stop plaiting your hair, cupcake - your bf is in EMOTIONAL TURMOIL!!)

~ CONTINUITY/MOVING FORWARD I’m not sure I can cope/carry on watching if Cal’s death is “dropped” after the 3 eps we (sort of) know are Ethan focused, or when things pick up in series 32. I get really frustrated when shows kill off major characters and the whole grieving/aftermath is rushed and buried to make way for new storylines. I don’t care about that shit! I can’t imagine how Ethan will ever truly reconcile with Cal’s death and his guilt over how it came about. It makes my heart hurt thinking about Ethan after the shit with Scott has well and truly gone down. His brother is still dead. Still murdered. He still has to work in the hospital where he died. He’ll still “see” him down every corridor. He still has to walk past that alley every day… Will he leave Holby because he just can’t cope with the everyday reminders? Will the Huntington’s storyline be brought back sooner than perhaps originally planned, because the writers just like to make him suffer? Will they kill him off too? I’m just not sure I can handle what they throw at Ethan next. Hasn’t he been through enough? I will forever cry every time he so much as blinks.

~ FUTURE CAL REMINDERS Will they have episodes where he treats a patient who reminds him of Cal? Two brothers who are at odds and he gets angry and tells them to sort it out before it’s too late? Someone asking him if he has a brother and he doesn’t know how to answer?

Whatever the future holds, this post-Cal Casualty world is looking pretty bleak -_-

~ ~ ~ ~

That’s my ramblings/venting done. If you made it here then you made it through them, so thanks! ;) What are your thoughts on life after Cal?

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multi-goodness · 8 years ago

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My Heart Led Me Back to You

How is everyone holding up? I’m still so broken. Damn writers. Only thing making me feel okay is writing this so here ya go! Enjoy!

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Sylvie had no clue on why she was crying, it was just seeing those two teens happy after the tragedy was inspiring. And to be honest, all she wanted to do right now was run to Antonio and tell him they both made a huge mistake. If there was one thing Sylvie learned time and time again with her job was that life was short and at any time they can lose their life. Was this worth it?

If tomorrow she died, would Antonio say he had no regrets letting her go? Could she say the same? Right now she wasn’t so sure. Her thoughts were interrupted when Gabby wrapped her arm around her shoulder. She let out an embarrassed laugh.

“I have no clue why this is getting to me.” She said sheepishly as she wiped away the tears but they kept threatening to fall.

“Hey, we all had a rough day. Many lives were lost. It’s nice to some see happiness after this senseless tragedy.” Gabby pointed out. But even she can see it was more than that.

“I’m just so tired.” Sylvie said.

“We are all, sweetie. Let’s go home and rest.” Gabby said, not understanding what she meant by that.

“No, Gabby. I mean, I’m just so tired of being sad over the breakup with Antonio. I’m tired of feeling like I’m surviving but not living, you know?”

“So, what are you going to do?” Gabby asked as she headed out of the hospital. “Are you going to try to date?” She questioned.

“Oh no, god no.” Sylvie looked horrified at those words. “The last time I tried to move on, I almost got married.” She said, letting out a chuckle at the memory.

“Well, this time, just try to have fun, not get married, you weirdo.” Gabby said, playfully nudging her with her shoulders.

“Could you do it?” Sylvie asked as she turned her attention to her friend. “When you and Matt broke up, could you move on, knowing that you still have feelings for Matt?” She asked as she got inside the ambulance. Their shift was over, they just had to returned the ambo back to the Firehouse.

“No, I mean, it wouldn’t have felt right. It’s never a good idea to get involved with someone while you have feelings for someone else. Even small feelings, it wouldn’t feel right.” Gabby said, truthfully. “I know this doesn’t make you feel better saying this, but I’m just being honest.” She looked apologetically to Sylvie.

“No, you’re right. You’re absolutely right. As much as I tried to downplay my feelings for Antonio, the fact is I still have deep feelings for him. Which is weird because we only dated for a few months.”

Gabby started the ambulance and she pulled away. “I’m sorry.” Gabby said to Sylvie. “I know I wasn’t always the most supportive person when it came to you both. But in a way, I was trying to save your feelings. But I will say this---let something come out of this tragedy. It may not mean much to others---but let it mean something to you.”

“Are you saying to talk to Antonio?” She questioned, shaking her head. “He made his feelings pretty clear.”

“Antonio has the habit of running at times, running to his work mostly. But remember, he’s hurting from this tragedy also. This may have hit close to home with all of us, but it hit closer to home for him. He worked with Al, he met Lexi, he’s hurting. And the last thing he needs when he puts away the monster, is to go home to an empty apartment.” Gabby parked into their spot and she glanced over at Sylvie. “And that’s all I’d say about this”

Sylvie sat in the ambulance for a few more seconds, letting over what Gabby said. As much as she usually listened to Gabby, right now she couldn’t. She made a promise to herself that she would give Antonio space and let him come to her. It was just the way it had to be.

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

A few hours later, Sylvie heard about the vigil and she really wanted to go. They were always trained that after treating patients that they should forget about it and move on. Drop them off at the hospital and walk away. But when a tragedy hit an entire city, it was impossible to do that. Sylvie wanted to pay her respects, especially after finding out Lexi died. Such a young woman that didn’t deserve to die---hell no one who died deserved to die.

Her thoughts were on Antonio the entire day, knowing that he may have needed someone to lean on. But she made her decision and this was a decision that she couldn’t sway away from. The last thing she wanted to do was show up at Antonio’s apartment and him looking at her like she was desperate. No way, no hell.

Before she made it to the vigil, she stopped to pick up flowers. She wasn’t sure what to bring to this, but she wanted to pay her respects. It was the least she could do in this senseless tragedy. As she made it through the people already there, she sighed. As much as she wanted to see Antonio, she hoped she wouldn’t bumped into him. This was already too much for her, just seeing him right now would become too much for her.

She noticed a few people from the firehouse and she made her way over to them. She stood next to Chief Boden and she nodded her head at him. They didn’t say anything to each other, she just placed the flowers down and she stood up. She bowed her head down, saying a few prayers that they find the scumbag that did this to these innocent people and pay for his crimes. She was sure the intelligence team and Antonio and his team would make sure of that.

---------

A few days had passed, and as much as she would have liked to say things were getting back to normal, she wasn’t sure it ever would again. The city would always think of this tragedy and would be apart of them forever, but hopefully soon the guy who did this would be charged and pay for his crimes.

It was finally her day off from work and as much as she would loved to be working while forgetting this tragedy, she needed the break. She needed the peace and quiet and just the thinking to herself.

When she heard the news about the guy getting charged with murder, she was sure she felt what everyone felt at this moment, she felt relieved. But she also knew as much as everyone was relieved, they also knew deep down inside, this should have never happened. But at least he didn’t get away with it.

She was heading home from running errands when she looked up at Antonio’s apartment. She wasn’t even sure how she got here, but maybe it was her heart that led her here.

As she stepped out of her car, she realized that she was making a mistake. This tragedy was making her vulnerable and she had to leave. For one, who was to say that Antonio wanted to see her? And for two, this wouldn’t change things. He still had a crazy ex-wife that wanted to make them miserable.

When she turned to head back inside her car, she was stopped by a familiar voice.

“Sylvie?”

Crap, she thought to herself. She was busted. At least if he was inside his apartment, she could easily get away without it being known that she came. But as she turned around to looked at him, she realized the main reason she came here in the first place. To make sure he was okay.

“Sorry.” She apologized to him. “I mean, I know you’re busy and all...and just got done with a tough case---”

He smiled slightly at her, realizing at this moment how much he truly missed her. “No, it’s fine. I’m just a little confused---why are you here?” Maybe if those words came out of someone’s mouth she would have taken offensive, but noticing the look on his face, it was more curious than anything.

Sylvie shrugged her shoulders. “Honestly, I don’t know. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“Do you want to come inside? It is pretty cold out here.” He offered.

What could Sylvie say to that? She couldn’t easily say no only because if she did, she would have looked like a stalker. She knew Antonio wouldn’t thought of that, but still.

“Sure. If that’s okay with you?” Sylvie didn’t want to be in the way if he didn’t want any company.

“Yeah, it’s fine.” He nodded his head and he led her into his apartment building.

The walk to his apartment was silent, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. More like they were trying to process all this. The tragedy and maybe why they were doing this. They knew they needed a break and the first sign of trouble, the first tragedy that happened, and Sylvie ran to Antonio. But why? And why didn’t he tell her this was a mistake? It was all confusing to her, and she could tell he was also confused.

He unlocked his apartment door and he headed inside. “Sorry for the mess, I haven’t been home really in days.”

It was funny to her because her definition of a mess was a lot different than his. She couldn’t look at Antonio’s apartment and think of mess. Her apartment on the other hand, yes. While she wasn’t a snob, not by any means, she was also a woman and her clothes made her apartment a mess.

She laughed. “If in your eyes, this is a mess, please don’t stop by my apartment right now.” She thought making a joke could calm her nerves. How the hell Antonio Dawson still made her nervous was beyond her.

Antonio smiled at her as he closed the door behind her and locked the door. He took off his coat and he hung it up in the closet. “I’m sure it isn’t that bad.”

“Maybe not.” She agreed as she walked over to his couch and sat down. It felt strange being here since the last time she was, they were happy together and Laura didn’t ruin things yet.

“So, I know I should have called before I came. I really don’t know how I got to your apartment.” She admitted truthfully. “I heard about the case and everything---and I know it must have been hard on you. So---” Her voice trailed off. She wasn’t sure if she sounded weird or whatever, since they were broken up. They weren’t even friends right now---she didn’t feel like it anyway. It was too soon to try to become friends.

“You came to check on me then?” He questioned as he sat down next to her on the couch. They were sitting far apart on the couch, but it was the closest they have been since their breakup.

“I guess, yes.” Did she have that right? Not really. But as she looked around the apartment, she could tell that he would have came home alone tonight and with the tragedy, the last thing he needed to be was alone.

“I’m fine, Sylvie. Really.” He couldn’t help but smile, knowing that she was worried for him. His face then turned serious. “How are you doing?” He questioned.

“I’m fine, Antonio. Really.” She repeated the words back at him.

He let out a laugh. “Smart ass.”

She was glad that it wasn’t awkward that she showed up here. But then she thought back to the teens who found happiness in such a tragedy. “Sometimes I wonder why I do this, you know? Especially with a tragedy like this. Not being able to save everyone sucks. It always kills me knowing that I couldn’t save everyone. So, I guess because of that, Gabby and I kind of found a cause that made us feel better.” She paused to see if he was even interested in this story, but she noticed his intense gaze on her. It took a few seconds to remember what she was talking about. Damn Antonio Dawson, she thought to herself. “During the fire, Gabby was helping a teenage boy who was asking for a girl in the pink dress. I know, typical Sylvie gushing over this right?” She said jokingly, but she saw him crack a smile at that. “Gabby didn’t know where she was at, naturally we thought--you know?” She was a paramedic and professional at that, but it was still too soon to say the words. “But we later found out that she was in the hospital. Long story short, we reunited them. And I don’t know why--but I just started crying.” She admitted.

“Probably from the pressure of the day.” He wanted to comfort her so badly, but the last thing he wanted to do was send her mixed signals. He thought they needed a break, to sort out their feelings, but was it worth it? Now, he wasn’t so sure.

“But that wasn’t even it. I mean, yeah, the day was hard on everyone involved. But that wasn’t what got to me. I guess I just started thinking about us. Or the lack of. I know we both made the decision we needed time apart, and I still agree with it. It’s just hard sometimes.” She shook her head from the thoughts. “Anyway, I’m sure I took enough of your time. I should leave you alone since you’re probably tired.” She said as she stood up but she was stopped by his hands gripping her arm gently.

“I know this may be selfish for me to say--but don’t go. All day today I kept thinking if we did the right thing. Lexi died and she barely lived her life. She was only 19. When I was 19, I felt like my life just started. My point is, if someone as innocent as Lexi can die, so can we. Our jobs are more dangerous than her being at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Hey, you aren’t selfish Antonio, you are the least selfish person I know.” She sat down next to him, moving closer to him. “But you’re right. If there is one thing I keep learning over and over again is that life is too short.”

“I just missed you so much.” He confessed as his lips crashed against hers.

Sylvie was surprised of the kiss at first, but it only took a second for her lips to respond, kissing him back. God, how she missed his lips. How she just missed being close to him.

A few minutes later, she pulled away from the kiss. “As much as I would love to continue that kiss, and god I want to. But we can’t until we talk. I can’t let myself get that hurt again. When we broke up, it nearly destroyed me. I was crushed. I just don’t want to go through that again.”

Antonio nodded his head. “I know, Sylvie. I know I can’t go through that again. But I also know I can’t keep doing what I have been doing. Barely sleeping, barely eating, working all the time to keep myself from missing you. You have no idea how many times I almost drove to your apartment, wanting to beg for you back. I made a huge mistake, probably the biggest mistake of my life, when I let you go.”

These were the words she wanted to hear ever since they broke up. She had many dreams about this, and now that it was actually happening, it felt amazing.

“You never have to beg for me back. It isn’t like you cheated on me or anything.” She almost laugh at her words, because Antonio was a lot of things, but a cheater was never one of them. “I just want to make things work between us.”

“I do too baby, more than you know.” He said as he leaned forward, kissing her again.

But like before, Sylvie pulled away. This time, she earned a groaned from Antonio. “What is it?” He asked, frustrated.

Sylvie laughed, patting his cheek with her hand. “Hey, stop it. But if you were barely eating before this tragedy happened, then I can guess you barely ate since it happened. So, come on.”

“Come on, where?” He asked confused. “Sylvie, I don’t feel like leaving my apartment right now. And you aren’t leaving either.”

She found him being bossy hot but she wasn’t about to say that. “No, I’m not going anywhere. I’m just going to cook you dinner.” Sylvie walked in his kitchen to see if he had anything in there.

Antonio stood up from the couch and he followed after her. “What? Sylvie, you don’t have to do that. I’m not hungry.”

Sylvie took a deep breath. “Just humor me, okay? I would feel a lot better if you ate.”

“Then let’s order in. You can cook for me some other time.” He said, pleading with her with his eyes. Finally, after what felt like forever, she nodded her head.

“Fine. But I’m only agreeing to it because you need to go food shopping.”

Antonio laughed and he walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her. “Thank you for coming back to me, baby. I know I can be stubborn as hell and even though I still feel like you deserve better than me, I’m crazy about you.”

Sylvie smiled and she was about to say something when she felt his lips crashed against hers again. She pulled away slightly, placing her hands on his face. “My heart led me back to you. And I have a feeling that it always will.”

Antonio smiled and he leaned back into the kiss, lifting her up in his arms. This sudden movement made Sylvie squealed in surprise. “Antonio, the food!” She would really feel better if she knew he ate something, but truthfully, she wanted him more at this moment than food, than anything else really.

“We’ll eat later, Sylvie.” He smirked at her as he leaned down, kissing her again as he headed straight to his bedroom.

#Brettonio #Antonio Dawson #Sylvie Brett #MYBABIES #myfanfic

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ofools · 8 years ago

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look at this dude’s fucking bio

warning: its ridiculously fucking long

[Here comes the game] Source: Crazy Games

........... I got a pell grant for film school because i'm poor and might choose Chicago University this fall or winter. i'm single baby!!! But not in the sense where i'm fucking other people n shit, its been 6yrs not being with a woman, I've had 8 dates since jail and got to kiss and hug a girl but that was years ago, I miss human touch, i'm scarred from heartbreak but also i don't succumb to lonesomeness and have someone beside me for the time being as a renter to my heart, i seek love and not fingerbangs, i'm a novelist of dozens of books (details in my publshed folder on my facebook .com/boathopper page, add me)..... I have 1,000+ short films, 3 films, one of them i killed 80 actors in, its called 'the tenderizer' and it had a zero budget which raked in a few grand of clothing/vhs tape sales.....i have a fantasy novel that can be read in its entirety for free at http://shakeyquakeyridenovel.blogspot.com/ and it could be bigger than harry potter but nobody reads anymore.... and i have another book you can read for free at http://platdnovel.blogspot.com/ ........... i had a script in hollywood bounced around called boathopper which is science fiction about a monster slamming into our oceans, but the serial killer described in it is identical and predates the 'dexter' book and show, and yes its copywritten just like the rest of my sampled work, stephen king even samples me, and i've overtaken him in quantity as well in my opinion as quality, i'm to the point and don't drag on bullshit fluff for too long, to see more about the dexter narrative and incredible journey your detections could take just youtube 'andyp's arduous travels of an unrenound serial killer'. my body is caked and dented in scars, lacerations and holes because i'm a good person, a strong person, doing good things in a horrible place, this earth, but i'm retired and yet i haven't even begun, i'm the type of person that's been all over the world killing warlords and thousands of the cruelest people known to exist, so the mysteriousness is lain in this, am i a serial killer? or just a shadow operative navy seal?........ i've had troll blogs devote themselves to me before, but here's one that's the most recent, i love my haters suhn https://kiwifar.ms/threads/andy-patton-aka-clivedavinci-loveshy-filmmaker-who-is-apparently-the-true-creator-of-dexter.11274/ ........i really am a mass murderer, my reins controlled by the police, and knowledge of me by other precincts one by one, year by year, being like an internal affairs of hitmen for them, to the most redtape entanglements that bother each depeartment, all secret, commissioned by a government program later, and then after my r.o.t.c i took out of highschol, where i aimed high towards the air force the seals nabbed me out of the air force, my intellect and my physical attributes is extremely rare, i could’ve easily gotten a wrestling scholarship to purdue after i had a walk on match with a dude from iowa and slammed his huge cornfed ass to the mat so hard he got hurt, i realized i can’t be invovled in regular heights of the elite, i couldn’t go backwards from what i had became, since i was a boy i’ve been in china in training programs, i honestly led a life just like d.a.r.y.l the movie, exept i wasn’t a robot, even figuratively in the sense of a sociopathic mindless servant or psycho, i was bombarded by compassionate teachings, my mother a police officer the leadrope to all of this, allowing this, she’s caught serial killers and crimelords, and one time it backfired, horrible men came and abducted me, and tortured me, they bordered on white supremecy and satanists, my mom didn’t find me that long month, the police didn’t find me, this was even in a newspaper, but all knowledge of this ever happening has been redacted and destroyed, nobody could find me, i was 6yrs old, three powerful men sexualy abused me, physically burned me, broke my bones, my rectum had been split open, i was beaten purple with my eyes swollen every couple days when i started to heal, where they would bust me up again, nobody knew where i was, on one of the most high profile cases my mom ever took, she did come to rescue me with the murderers in the house still there, in their total ignorance of evil and what they can get away with, with a young innocent boy, they left their knife that they cut me with on the mattress 3 seconds too long, and i turned into chucky, i snapped, i had absolutely no fear, i didn’t wanna run out of a door, blood pooled all over the floor, it was always my blood, seeing your reflection in your own pool of blood as you cry for help night after night as you lay to try to get comfy to sleep which you can’t becuase you’re bruised all over, does something to someone, something snaps, like how a virgin’s skin does when a scumbag pops their cherry, i became chucky, i had developed tactical defense, and didn’t keep stabbing one of them, i sliced one of them down crying, then hid and waited for the next and sliced him, and i waited many hours in the house, not leaving, not picking up the phone yet, waiting for the other to arrive, in the dark i came at him, where he had no time to react, i climbed and took the bulbs out, and easily made my way to get him too before he saw the scene int he bedroom, i sliced away his achilles as i jutted out behind a couch, those long hours before he came and met his demise, i’d played, like a child with toys, but i played with my knife, a memento i still have, a murder weapon of the most grotesque, i stabbed at every part of their skin, i even kept one of them alive, and took out each of his eyes andn let him squirm around, something inside me took over, and it was GOOD as much as it had been horrible, it must’ve been something put there by god and vengence, and i finally called my mom and we talked on the phone, booking had listened in, her friends, i explained but they were confused, i told them they were still in the house with me and they can come over,i couldn’t talk properly, i hadn’t really known what i’d done, it was like i was possessed, i blubbered crying on the phone just hearing her voice, she was the first one to the scene, there were other cops that came later, which contradicted a way out for me that she would have to face, her son, which the world woudln’t wanna face, and instituionalize me for, those cops got fired for something she had to fenagle, it was her son, or them, you’re forgetting that i was a murderer, although 6, doesn’t matter, all the murderers were stilll in the house, but they were all dead, and cut to pieces, and it took my mom probaby 10 full minutes to unclench my hand around my knife, and dthat was only because i allowed it, because we came to a truce where she’d let me keep it, it was a part of me now, it saved me, it helped me, it was my friend, yes i wrote a novel predating dexter called boathopper where its science fiction, but the myth of a dexter like child in blood had been passed around precincts long before that, it was covered up but there’s always trace gossip, it became a legend, i’ve worked in moscow with putin, i’ve been taught by spies, everytime i’m pulled over the cops freak out becuaase my rapsheet is so long, and that’s just in america, but i’m always a victim or witness, i’m always acting and protecting people, never a bad person, just misunderstood, all the cops protect me, all the agents, the stint i did in calif was my exes doing, i remember traveling ALOT, missing alot of school, but always coming back, pretending to be in school, hanging out with my friends, iwas bombarded by animals, i loved animals, i wasn’t a maniac to ever hurt one no matter my blood rage, but i was taken to villages a round the world to share love with good people and experiences, and to always train, and to even kill, i needed to kill, a lifetime of killing, decades of it, thousands of horriblly evil people around the world, especially china, india and the middleeast before soldiers ever got there, was my purpose in life, i could chameleon into any cell, or group, i was invisible and innocent, and with training i was a weapon, all my education when to combat and stealth and learning many languages, and i served my agency proud, and when i tried to resume a regular life i couldn’t, i was hurting people in sports, not really trying to, my training i held back on, and just used physical standards, but i had too much rage, its like i wanted to see people bleed, i’d been around the world helping animals, trained as an assassin, trained by seals, educated by scholars, there are good sects in this world when you’re facing incredible circumstnces, as well as bad sects like terrorists or satanists, and they caught wind and found my mom as she had sought something like them too, onlhy a few people know about this, after the rotc, i went to the air force for a few months, then leaped to the seals and i’ve been putting away badguys, and hopping back to the states for my character andn presence ever since, i’m a honed tactician, i’m beyond liam neeson, i’m a good person, i have compassion for everyone, but i have a screw loose, and i need love, and i’ll never find it, i’m calmed now and ptsd of wartime endevours you just get used to, compared to childhood traumas, i’m retired, vocalization and protest is what changes laws and leading by example helps animals in the world, i just need someone to spend my life with now, i had a good girl once, who was teetering on the side of cdraziness, enough crazy and cool to put up with me, but she was taken by this horrible world, i needed saved and she abandoned me, her best friend, i’m looking for someone new to come into my life and not be so fussy and close minded,k i’m still just a child needing affection, someone save me ......i'm the funniest person probably in the world in person, but i've gotten shy and reclusive the last decade, from my loved ones dissected and murdered in hospitals, to love stricken from me like a lightening bolt, i used to love dancing in clubs/weddings with any hot girl, but i could never dance again having lived the shit i've went through with my ex slowing metamorphasizing into a prostitute, and it began from the attention she got from me taking her out to clubs and being mixed in an elite environment and dancing with her making her feel a little bit too great to the point she needed to have that drug 24/7, so she slowly went out and forged it, dancing is the work of the devil i know see, its like that george michael song 'i'm never gonna dance again' love just gets taken from you and you become a bitter person because of it, i'm still funny, but it has to be the right setting, i have to be feeling good or buzzed or have a fleeting bliss of happiness, i can get really fucking dark sometimes to the point its scary, you mix i've been an eliete in sports amongst other things in my life, alongside my talented writing that's grosser and more depicting and original than anything clive or king could right, and you'll have a formula of fear, i mean one story i killed god himself, its on my fb in my notes titled 'the after', i've cursed god for the last couple decades of my life, not because i'm an atheiest or don't believe in a god entirely, but because if there was one, i figured he was absolute evil, like a parent abandoning children in a dingy motel or something, forced to fend for themselves because they don't know better, i have many thoughts on god but i'm a philosopher too, so that's a topic that can go on forever, for the most part, i vent, i'm fuming mad, but i'm the most passive human being you'll ever known, and the people beating upon me in life can attest to it, you see those vines or gifs with cats beating the shit out of large enormous strong dogs? well that's me, no matter what i'll never bite, i just seem to bark alot because i'm lonely, and still so heartbroken, i've never filled in that gap of a 'friend' or a 'fuckpal' or a partner in my life since my breakup, i'm not doing it right, like everyone else copes, i don't deal with death the same either, i'm careless to it and am enlightened to not get attached anymore, to anything, seeing dozens of my family put in the ground, it just takes a toll of carelessness, its something i don't want to deal with anymore, my cat was the height of all the bad in my life, a year ago my sister allowed this prostitute that was living next to me in my room to throw a fuckparty in the entire house, and my cat kidiot got outside, and this was when i was tossed out of that drughouse for not reason on top of it by the very multiple cops that were banging my sister, someone i cared about, and my cat kidiot who i've had a decade, got trapped and starved to death in a hot shed, just a glimpse at the kind of shit i have to go through ad cry over in my life, and its not because i'm a bad person, and its not from strangers, its from people closest to me, its always like that for me and i'm uncertain why........15 of my short films are pretty good, but maybe i'm just being modest and don't determine my worth properly,you'd have to type 'andyp's short films' to see some on multiple accounts, i'm always deleted, a rebel on youtube, i have a hellraiser script at hellraisernightshines.yolasite.com, another tumblr at clivedavinciromance ............ i was entering a finished 3rd horror feature into sundance but its incomplete, i made it by myself in a empty building when i was homeless, its under 'sundancers andyp's' on youtube, the 2nd part is the best, my 1st two features were generic slashers and don't count as serious, i'm finishing up another book, a fantasy novel i think will be bigger than harry potter...i WILL become larger than stephen king, and you wonder why i choose such a high totum to climb other than a smaller horror writer? well its because i've finished libraries of writing, novels and shorts, all the decades i've been alone and sad in a dark room as an introvert, what is dormant, and what is almost accomplished is more thatn king, almost, i need a few green miles and stand by me's first, and then i need a few other stories and books and i will have achieved more elaborate words than star wars or marvel combined, i just have to get them seen is all, tha'ts the hard/easy part......i hang out with my gay friends in portage, they're all i have in my life, my mexican bestie is leaving ot vegas, i don't have any other real friends, and no family left, i'm just all alone in the world, i drive a stupid car i spraypainted purple, i act like a retard because i want to filter through phony uptight people, i want a real cool, good girl, who doesn't fuck everyone like everyone in society does, i want a lover and rebel and fighter, not someone who's ordinary like my ex who breaks hearts and breaks herself off pieces of dick at any whim, i haven't kissed a girl in over 2 years. I'm not a sleazeball, i've only had 3serious long relationships, that means i've only had sex with 3 people, no additional fingerbangs or buttfuckings, maybe i kissed ten more girls, but that's it. I say heartfelt poems or perversion after almost every pic i reblog, so the history of my tumblr is quite a reading adventure. I'm a horror writer, here is a link to my newest collection of stories http://www.lulu.com/shop/andrew-patton/reflections-in-the-dark/paperback/product-20340079.html I'm an animal activist.gay rights activist, civil rights activist and women's rights activist, BUT I differ in opinion about bisexuals, not for them personally, but from my own experiences of people being able to fuck how many people they want without consquence to character, the last time i checked if someone was unsure if they liked women or men more they weren't tasting all those crotches, they went about their business and didn't need a stamp that i feel is an equivalent to yelling 'hey i'm in bars fucking this guy, fucking that guy and i don't give a fuck', well that's fine, live how you want, but in your abundances of pussy/dick and indecision, i'm all alone, and i'd be humbled to just hold and love ONE PERSON, and that's were the idea of the 'title' not the 'person' bisexual comes into conflict with me, its saying 'i'm samantha from sex and the city and slopping up weiners and hot snatches left and right, so fuck you', i don't hate anyone, i'm understanding of nearly anything, i try my hardest to dissuade violence or hate in any way i can, i just think the terminology used to describe someone as a bisexual is just for show, if they don't know if they love and man or woman, who's to say they even love men or women? but their travels and undertakings of trying to find that out are being stamped and revealed for all the world to know about, and i don't dislike it, i just think its as tacky as me posting my boner videos in my underwear is all, its sleazy to your eyes, but you don't understand me right, like i woudn't understand you? in such perversion there is actual sweetness in me and reasons i do this crazy shit, bisexuals and their silly title which is basically just saying you're a hippi is just offputing to some, like me who had a girl i loved who became bisexual, yet all she's doing is fucking people for money, and i bet alot of people have sex and not for love and in doing that i'd never wanna be stamped with something, in a broad sense sure, but me, i'm an individual and i'm kind and good and accepting of all of you and love all of you so what the fuck matters our personal bickerings ya know?....... stupid groups of people like most feminists, most of what p.e.t.a does, truth anti smoking commercials, etc, bother me, because these consist mainly of spoiled brats not really doing anything, having a campus activity n shit, not empassioned deeper, not being in any form of fight, just a lap of luxery, forcing their beliefs or ways of life on you even if they are the most insane selfish things imagineable, i think i used to be bitter about hipsters too, just anyone who is phony as fuck, hell it could even be described as a rare unicorn of a girl i liked, doesn't matter, superficiality annoys me more than anything......... like i actually argue with people who do gangbangs and have swinger parties, could they honestly justify that disgusting shit to me, do it on your own time and leave me out of your sexcapades, seeing those depictions in 'bruno' or something, or me personally jacking off to threesomes n shit in porn is one thing but if you're gonna come on my page and bitch and moan i think that's 'sleazy' since it doesn't invovle TWO people, but instead involves multiple people, then you're just dumb,.............. i'm the most fucked up person alive, stranger by far of any human alive, i have an imaginative mind but i also have social skills, i know what its like being lonesome its why i hate when people just fuck tons of others, they spit at something i wish i had, they are gluttonous. My idols are Clive Barker, i made my art collection entirely out of scratch but i had him in mind to impress him, and i also made a book of short stories like his books of blood, i'm very similar to him, a huge fan, but it wasn't on purpose, its weird, its liked he fucked my mom in the 70's before he went gay or something, Stephen King, Kenny Hotz, Wayne Pacelle of the hspca, and others, even steve o and tom green. i'm the poorest person i know, yet i give my singles to bums, i'm selfless, i'm lazy, but when i have ambition like someone helping me, i'll create milestones. i make all my videos mostly in this loft at my moms house, i'm stuck here until my federal probation is up, not like i'll go anywhere else unless i get mental disability, i have no drive in life for average shit, i'm a creator, not an assembly line worker, i don't need the shit that money can buy, i'd never go to disneyland again even if someone bought me a package cause i think its extravagent and there are kids that will never see that place, i'd let them go in my place. i dislike snooty superficial people who act like they are better than you and are mean and bully and act like they're cool, when really they are fucking ignorant whiny brats in college or some shit trying to find their identities; they are jackoffs. so beware if you get offended by something i say, which is almost always a joke, cause i'll outdebate you and i'm VERY mean to bullies who get used to being tools in their normal lives with normal people, cause i'm not normal, i'm elite, cream of the crop, super large penis machoman, and i'm wittier, funnier and fucking the coolest fuck you'll ever know period, so bitches on their periods stand no chance either. My trolling book is blowing up, its sold 43 copies now, i've made it cheaper, black & white, so i'm making money now, DON'T USE CREATESPACE they are not creative friendly. you can find my large magazine type trolling book here.. http://www.lulu.com/shop/andrew-patton/trolling-101/paperback/product-20324152.html I've been raised by women without a father, i'm very feminine but strong, so don't turn me into an angry woman that will tell you off, but it takes alot to even get me mad, it just may seem i'm mad cause i'm pretty creative and outspoken, but really, i just laugh at your insults and bullying and i destroy anything you shit out with my verbal reckonings. I don't think i'm better than anyone, i'm kind to everyone, and that's what opens my mouth in the first place, is people attacking me or trying to bully me, it reminds me of how they could be doing it do someone else, like a gay kid, a black person, a woman, and it pisses me off. scene kids are the worst, almost like nazis cause they are a form of upper rich caste system that thinks they're better and they get snobby and uptight and its fucking annoying. I'm faithful,, sometimes romantic, sometimes funny genuine human. I dob not have anything in common with humans, I feel I'm more intelligent and its a burden being in a way, an ugly duckling. But I relate to morons too, because I am a stupid moron sometimes, I'm silly like that. next month i will have seen 10 psychiatrists in my life yet there's nothing even wrong with me.I'm the kind of person who would volunteer his head to a row of nazis so that others may live, i'm selfless. I'm also the kind of person who would be the ONLY one to stand up and risk not being hidden anymore, risk being killed by those nazis just to stand up to them. I'm a leader. I've led 100 of the world's worst maniacs in a jail cell for a year, I was on the back of a 7ft nigerian man preventing him from killing someone, I was a good person in a bad place, like jesus walking this shitty earth. Upon an apoclypse in 2012 i can lead the world to peace. i'm also the kind of person that is a fighter, i can be on my bloody knees before a dozen nazis and slice all their throats in moments before they know what's happening. I've only been with 3 girls, all long relationships and am still looking for my true soul mate on this planet, I've scavenged billions of galaxies looking and my search has ended here. You're here somewhere, I sense you. My ex got me put in jail to become a pornstar? She sent a threat to Kevin Spacey's website. The fuckers stole my movie 'The Thing' but made it shitty, read my synopsis or script at thethingfromanotherworld.webs.com. 2nd time feds kicked in my door, guns blazing, I told them my gf had shaved a penis in my chest hair, which she really did the night before, they looked and laughed and withdrew their guns out of our faces, I basically saved that crazy ex ponrstar, tattood bitch's life with my wittiness and her stupid art project she did on me when she was bored. Plus, having a lifesize darth maul figurine at the foot of my bed didn't really solidify to these saps I was a real serial murderer. I'm a handyman and can do just about anything, I'm currently building a movie set for my next silly video. I type 100 words a minute. I'm great with my mind, hands and dignity and I apply those things to women. I'm the most compassionate person alive or who has ever lived. I'm a registered rehabber wih the D.N.R. of Indiana. I"m incredible in all sports. I love spending time with someone I love watching movies and going out to eat, just waiting on that right girl. I have a bachelor's in English, and an associates from Minneapolis in Art instruction, but I'm happy with being a loser, being poor and having no future, I'm just trying to manage every day on this shitty planet, being a very lonely wise thing. I've been to California a dozen times in the last 2 years and not for vacation or my own accord (long story). I'm VERY down to earth and give great advice. If I could go to Chipotle daily I would, but I have no girl in my life, no significant other, no waddling penguin, no friend to hold my hand. i do like a girl alot, but i realize how fucked up i am, sometimes i don't even want to get out of bed, i'd need her to understand what its like to be lonesome and depressed, i really miss holding someone. we're all doomed to die, it sucks, i'm just trying to make my life as comfortable as possible with the little means i have, hopefully they'll put me on mental disability and i can continue my writing without having to work shit jobs to make ends meet, or save for a date with a girl and it never happens anyways go to a few of my sites myspace.com/andyp6 or Andy's Facebook link is below, its facebook.com/boathopper i have a new myspace account but rarely use it

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spatialapprentice · 8 years ago

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Hey poopy, I'm Andy Patton of the East Chicago harbor in Indiana, before reading about my indiana jones lifestyle, have a go at tetris which is about to load, make a high score, and use my page just like your personal black and white gameboy, and relax with me like i'm your lazyboy barcalounger!! Get Adobe Flash player Source: Crazy Games ........... I got a pell grant for film school because i'm poor and might choose Chicago University this fall or winter. i'm single baby!!! But not in the sense where i'm fucking other people n shit, its been 6yrs not being with a woman, I've had 8 dates since jail and got to kiss and hug a girl but that was years ago, I miss human touch, i'm scarred from heartbreak but also i don't succumb to lonesomeness and have someone beside me for the time being as a renter to my heart, i seek love and not fingerbangs, i'm a novelist of dozens of books (details in my publshed folder on my facebook .com/boathopper page, add me)..... I have 1,000+ short films, 3 films, one of them i killed 80 actors in, its called 'the tenderizer' and it had a zero budget which raked in a few grand of clothing/vhs tape sales.....i have a fantasy novel that can be read in its entirety for free at http://shakeyquakeyridenovel.blogspot.com/ and it could be bigger than harry potter but nobody reads anymore.... and i have another book you can read for free at http://platdnovel.blogspot.com/ ........... i had a script in hollywood bounced around called boathopper which is science fiction about a monster slamming into our oceans, but the serial killer described in it is identical and predates the 'dexter' book and show, and yes its copywritten just like the rest of my sampled work, stephen king even samples me, and i've overtaken him in quantity as well in my opinion as quality, i'm to the point and don't drag on bullshit fluff for too long, to see more about the dexter narrative and incredible journey your detections could take just youtube 'andyp's arduous travels of an unrenound serial killer'. my body is caked and dented in scars, lacerations and holes because i'm a good person, a strong person, doing good things in a horrible place, this earth, but i'm retired and yet i haven't even begun, i'm the type of person that's been all over the world killing warlords and thousands of the cruelest people known to exist, so the mysteriousness is lain in this, am i a serial killer? or just a shadow operative navy seal?........ i've had troll blogs devote themselves to me before, but here's one that's the most recent, i love my haters suhn https://kiwifar.ms/threads/andy-patton-aka-clivedavinci-loveshy-filmmaker-who-is-apparently-the-true-creator-of-dexter.11274/ ........i really am a mass murderer, my reins controlled by the police, and knowledge of me by other precincts one by one, year by year, being like an internal affairs of hitmen for them, to the most redtape entanglements that bother each depeartment, all secret, commissioned by a government program later, and then after my r.o.t.c i took out of highschol, where i aimed high towards the air force the seals nabbed me out of the air force, my intellect and my physical attributes is extremely rare, i could’ve easily gotten a wrestling scholarship to purdue after i had a walk on match with a dude from iowa and slammed his huge cornfed ass to the mat so hard he got hurt, i realized i can’t be invovled in regular heights of the elite, i couldn’t go backwards from what i had became, since i was a boy i’ve been in china in training programs, i honestly led a life just like d.a.r.y.l the movie, exept i wasn’t a robot, even figuratively in the sense of a sociopathic mindless servant or psycho, i was bombarded by compassionate teachings, my mother a police officer the leadrope to all of this, allowing this, she’s caught serial killers and crimelords, and one time it backfired, horrible men came and abducted me, and tortured me, they bordered on white supremecy and satanists, my mom didn’t find me that long month, the police didn’t find me, this was even in a newspaper, but all knowledge of this ever happening has been redacted and destroyed, nobody could find me, i was 6yrs old, three powerful men sexualy abused me, physically burned me, broke my bones, my rectum had been split open, i was beaten purple with my eyes swollen every couple days when i started to heal, where they would bust me up again, nobody knew where i was, on one of the most high profile cases my mom ever took, she did come to rescue me with the murderers in the house still there, in their total ignorance of evil and what they can get away with, with a young innocent boy, they left their knife that they cut me with on the mattress 3 seconds too long, and i turned into chucky, i snapped, i had absolutely no fear, i didn’t wanna run out of a door, blood pooled all over the floor, it was always my blood, seeing your reflection in your own pool of blood as you cry for help night after night as you lay to try to get comfy to sleep which you can’t becuase you’re bruised all over, does something to someone, something snaps, like how a virgin’s skin does when a scumbag pops their cherry, i became chucky, i had developed tactical defense, and didn’t keep stabbing one of them, i sliced one of them down crying, then hid and waited for the next and sliced him, and i waited many hours in the house, not leaving, not picking up the phone yet, waiting for the other to arrive, in the dark i came at him, where he had no time to react, i climbed and took the bulbs out, and easily made my way to get him too before he saw the scene int he bedroom, i sliced away his achilles as i jutted out behind a couch, those long hours before he came and met his demise, i’d played, like a child with toys, but i played with my knife, a memento i still have, a murder weapon of the most grotesque, i stabbed at every part of their skin, i even kept one of them alive, and took out each of his eyes andn let him squirm around, something inside me took over, and it was GOOD as much as it had been horrible, it must’ve been something put there by god and vengence, and i finally called my mom and we talked on the phone, booking had listened in, her friends, i explained but they were confused, i told them they were still in the house with me and they can come over,i couldn’t talk properly, i hadn’t really known what i’d done, it was like i was possessed, i blubbered crying on the phone just hearing her voice, she was the first one to the scene, there were other cops that came later, which contradicted a way out for me that she would have to face, her son, which the world woudln’t wanna face, and instituionalize me for, those cops got fired for something she had to fenagle, it was her son, or them, you’re forgetting that i was a murderer, although 6, doesn’t matter, all the murderers were stilll in the house, but they were all dead, and cut to pieces, and it took my mom probaby 10 full minutes to unclench my hand around my knife, and dthat was only because i allowed it, because we came to a truce where she’d let me keep it, it was a part of me now, it saved me, it helped me, it was my friend, yes i wrote a novel predating dexter called boathopper where its science fiction, but the myth of a dexter like child in blood had been passed around precincts long before that, it was covered up but there’s always trace gossip, it became a legend, i’ve worked in moscow with putin, i’ve been taught by spies, everytime i’m pulled over the cops freak out becuaase my rapsheet is so long, and that’s just in america, but i’m always a victim or witness, i’m always acting and protecting people, never a bad person, just misunderstood, all the cops protect me, all the agents, the stint i did in calif was my exes doing, i remember traveling ALOT, missing alot of school, but always coming back, pretending to be in school, hanging out with my friends, iwas bombarded by animals, i loved animals, i wasn’t a maniac to ever hurt one no matter my blood rage, but i was taken to villages a round the world to share love with good people and experiences, and to always train, and to even kill, i needed to kill, a lifetime of killing, decades of it, thousands of horriblly evil people around the world, especially china, india and the middleeast before soldiers ever got there, was my purpose in life, i could chameleon into any cell, or group, i was invisible and innocent, and with training i was a weapon, all my education when to combat and stealth and learning many languages, and i served my agency proud, and when i tried to resume a regular life i couldn’t, i was hurting people in sports, not really trying to, my training i held back on, and just used physical standards, but i had too much rage, its like i wanted to see people bleed, i’d been around the world helping animals, trained as an assassin, trained by seals, educated by scholars, there are good sects in this world when you’re facing incredible circumstnces, as well as bad sects like terrorists or satanists, and they caught wind and found my mom as she had sought something like them too, onlhy a few people know about this, after the rotc, i went to the air force for a few months, then leaped to the seals and i’ve been putting away badguys, and hopping back to the states for my character andn presence ever since, i’m a honed tactician, i’m beyond liam neeson, i’m a good person, i have compassion for everyone, but i have a screw loose, and i need love, and i’ll never find it, i’m calmed now and ptsd of wartime endevours you just get used to, compared to childhood traumas, i’m retired, vocalization and protest is what changes laws and leading by example helps animals in the world, i just need someone to spend my life with now, i had a good girl once, who was teetering on the side of cdraziness, enough crazy and cool to put up with me, but she was taken by this horrible world, i needed saved and she abandoned me, her best friend, i’m looking for someone new to come into my life and not be so fussy and close minded,k i’m still just a child needing affection, someone save me ......i'm the funniest person probably in the world in person, but i've gotten shy and reclusive the last decade, from my loved ones dissected and murdered in hospitals, to love stricken from me like a lightening bolt, i used to love dancing in clubs/weddings with any hot girl, but i could never dance again having lived the shit i've went through with my ex slowing metamorphasizing into a prostitute, and it began from the attention she got from me taking her out to clubs and being mixed in an elite environment and dancing with her making her feel a little bit too great to the point she needed to have that drug 24/7, so she slowly went out and forged it, dancing is the work of the devil i know see, its like that george michael song 'i'm never gonna dance again' love just gets taken from you and you become a bitter person because of it, i'm still funny, but it has to be the right setting, i have to be feeling good or buzzed or have a fleeting bliss of happiness, i can get really fucking dark sometimes to the point its scary, you mix i've been an eliete in sports amongst other things in my life, alongside my talented writing that's grosser and more depicting and original than anything clive or king could right, and you'll have a formula of fear, i mean one story i killed god himself, its on my fb in my notes titled 'the after', i've cursed god for the last couple decades of my life, not because i'm an atheiest or don't believe in a god entirely, but because if there was one, i figured he was absolute evil, like a parent abandoning children in a dingy motel or something, forced to fend for themselves because they don't know better, i have many thoughts on god but i'm a philosopher too, so that's a topic that can go on forever, for the most part, i vent, i'm fuming mad, but i'm the most passive human being you'll ever known, and the people beating upon me in life can attest to it, you see those vines or gifs with cats beating the shit out of large enormous strong dogs? well that's me, no matter what i'll never bite, i just seem to bark alot because i'm lonely, and still so heartbroken, i've never filled in that gap of a 'friend' or a 'fuckpal' or a partner in my life since my breakup, i'm not doing it right, like everyone else copes, i don't deal with death the same either, i'm careless to it and am enlightened to not get attached anymore, to anything, seeing dozens of my family put in the ground, it just takes a toll of carelessness, its something i don't want to deal with anymore, my cat was the height of all the bad in my life, a year ago my sister allowed this prostitute that was living next to me in my room to throw a fuckparty in the entire house, and my cat kidiot got outside, and this was when i was tossed out of that drughouse for not reason on top of it by the very multiple cops that were banging my sister, someone i cared about, and my cat kidiot who i've had a decade, got trapped and starved to death in a hot shed, just a glimpse at the kind of shit i have to go through ad cry over in my life, and its not because i'm a bad person, and its not from strangers, its from people closest to me, its always like that for me and i'm uncertain why........15 of my short films are pretty good, but maybe i'm just being modest and don't determine my worth properly,you'd have to type 'andyp's short films' to see some on multiple accounts, i'm always deleted, a rebel on youtube, i have a hellraiser script at hellraisernightshines.yolasite.com, another tumblr at clivedavinciromance ............ i was entering a finished 3rd horror feature into sundance but its incomplete, i made it by myself in a empty building when i was homeless, its under 'sundancers andyp's' on youtube, the 2nd part is the best, my 1st two features were generic slashers and don't count as serious, i'm finishing up another book, a fantasy novel i think will be bigger than harry potter...i WILL become larger than stephen king, and you wonder why i choose such a high totum to climb other than a smaller horror writer? well its because i've finished libraries of writing, novels and shorts, all the decades i've been alone and sad in a dark room as an introvert, what is dormant, and what is almost accomplished is more thatn king, almost, i need a few green miles and stand by me's first, and then i need a few other stories and books and i will have achieved more elaborate words than star wars or marvel combined, i just have to get them seen is all, tha'ts the hard/easy part......i hang out with my gay friends in portage, they're all i have in my life, my mexican bestie is leaving ot vegas, i don't have any other real friends, and no family left, i'm just all alone in the world, i drive a stupid car i spraypainted purple, i act like a retard because i want to filter through phony uptight people, i want a real cool, good girl, who doesn't fuck everyone like everyone in society does, i want a lover and rebel and fighter, not someone who's ordinary like my ex who breaks hearts and breaks herself off pieces of dick at any whim, i haven't kissed a girl in over 2 years. I'm not a sleazeball, i've only had 3serious long relationships, that means i've only had sex with 3 people, no additional fingerbangs or buttfuckings, maybe i kissed ten more girls, but that's it. I say heartfelt poems or perversion after almost every pic i reblog, so the history of my tumblr is quite a reading adventure. I'm a horror writer, here is a link to my newest collection of stories http://www.lulu.com/shop/andrew-patton/reflections-in-the-dark/paperback/product-20340079.html I'm an animal activist.gay rights activist, civil rights activist and women's rights activist, BUT I differ in opinion about bisexuals, not for them personally, but from my own experiences of people being able to fuck how many people they want without consquence to character, the last time i checked if someone was unsure if they liked women or men more they weren't tasting all those crotches, they went about their business and didn't need a stamp that i feel is an equivalent to yelling 'hey i'm in bars fucking this guy, fucking that guy and i don't give a fuck', well that's fine, live how you want, but in your abundances of pussy/dick and indecision, i'm all alone, and i'd be humbled to just hold and love ONE PERSON, and that's were the idea of the 'title' not the 'person' bisexual comes into conflict with me, its saying 'i'm samantha from sex and the city and slopping up weiners and hot snatches left and right, so fuck you', i don't hate anyone, i'm understanding of nearly anything, i try my hardest to dissuade violence or hate in any way i can, i just think the terminology used to describe someone as a bisexual is just for show, if they don't know if they love and man or woman, who's to say they even love men or women? but their travels and undertakings of trying to find that out are being stamped and revealed for all the world to know about, and i don't dislike it, i just think its as tacky as me posting my boner videos in my underwear is all, its sleazy to your eyes, but you don't understand me right, like i woudn't understand you? in such perversion there is actual sweetness in me and reasons i do this crazy shit, bisexuals and their silly title which is basically just saying you're a hippi is just offputing to some, like me who had a girl i loved who became bisexual, yet all she's doing is fucking people for money, and i bet alot of people have sex and not for love and in doing that i'd never wanna be stamped with something, in a broad sense sure, but me, i'm an individual and i'm kind and good and accepting of all of you and love all of you so what the fuck matters our personal bickerings ya know?....... stupid groups of people like most feminists, most of what p.e.t.a does, truth anti smoking commercials, etc, bother me, because these consist mainly of spoiled brats not really doing anything, having a campus activity n shit, not empassioned deeper, not being in any form of fight, just a lap of luxery, forcing their beliefs or ways of life on you even if they are the most insane selfish things imagineable, i think i used to be bitter about hipsters too, just anyone who is phony as fuck, hell it could even be described as a rare unicorn of a girl i liked, doesn't matter, superficiality annoys me more than anything......... like i actually argue with people who do gangbangs and have swinger parties, could they honestly justify that disgusting shit to me, do it on your own time and leave me out of your sexcapades, seeing those depictions in 'bruno' or something, or me personally jacking off to threesomes n shit in porn is one thing but if you're gonna come on my page and bitch and moan i think that's 'sleazy' since it doesn't invovle TWO people, but instead involves multiple people, then you're just dumb,.............. i'm the most fucked up person alive, stranger by far of any human alive, i have an imaginative mind but i also have social skills, i know what its like being lonesome its why i hate when people just fuck tons of others, they spit at something i wish i had, they are gluttonous. My idols are Clive Barker, i made my art collection entirely out of scratch but i had him in mind to impress him, and i also made a book of short stories like his books of blood, i'm very similar to him, a huge fan, but it wasn't on purpose, its weird, its liked he fucked my mom in the 70's before he went gay or something, Stephen King, Kenny Hotz, Wayne Pacelle of the hspca, and others, even steve o and tom green. i'm the poorest person i know, yet i give my singles to bums, i'm selfless, i'm lazy, but when i have ambition like someone helping me, i'll create milestones. i make all my videos mostly in this loft at my moms house, i'm stuck here until my federal probation is up, not like i'll go anywhere else unless i get mental disability, i have no drive in life for average shit, i'm a creator, not an assembly line worker, i don't need the shit that money can buy, i'd never go to disneyland again even if someone bought me a package cause i think its extravagent and there are kids that will never see that place, i'd let them go in my place. i dislike snooty superficial people who act like they are better than you and are mean and bully and act like they're cool, when really they are fucking ignorant whiny brats in college or some shit trying to find their identities; they are jackoffs. so beware if you get offended by something i say, which is almost always a joke, cause i'll outdebate you and i'm VERY mean to bullies who get used to being tools in their normal lives with normal people, cause i'm not normal, i'm elite, cream of the crop, super large penis machoman, and i'm wittier, funnier and fucking the coolest fuck you'll ever know period, so bitches on their periods stand no chance either. My trolling book is blowing up, its sold 43 copies now, i've made it cheaper, black & white, so i'm making money now, DON'T USE CREATESPACE they are not creative friendly. you can find my large magazine type trolling book here.. http://www.lulu.com/shop/andrew-patton/trolling-101/paperback/product-20324152.html I've been raised by women without a father, i'm very feminine but strong, so don't turn me into an angry woman that will tell you off, but it takes alot to even get me mad, it just may seem i'm mad cause i'm pretty creative and outspoken, but really, i just laugh at your insults and bullying and i destroy anything you shit out with my verbal reckonings. I don't think i'm better than anyone, i'm kind to everyone, and that's what opens my mouth in the first place, is people attacking me or trying to bully me, it reminds me of how they could be doing it do someone else, like a gay kid, a black person, a woman, and it pisses me off. scene kids are the worst, almost like nazis cause they are a form of upper rich caste system that thinks they're better and they get snobby and uptight and its fucking annoying. I'm faithful,, sometimes romantic, sometimes funny genuine human. I dob not have anything in common with humans, I feel I'm more intelligent and its a burden being in a way, an ugly duckling. But I relate to morons too, because I am a stupid moron sometimes, I'm silly like that. next month i will have seen 10 psychiatrists in my life yet there's nothing even wrong with me.I'm the kind of person who would volunteer his head to a row of nazis so that others may live, i'm selfless. I'm also the kind of person who would be the ONLY one to stand up and risk not being hidden anymore, risk being killed by those nazis just to stand up to them. I'm a leader. I've led 100 of the world's worst maniacs in a jail cell for a year, I was on the back of a 7ft nigerian man preventing him from killing someone, I was a good person in a bad place, like jesus walking this shitty earth. Upon an apoclypse in 2012 i can lead the world to peace. i'm also the kind of person that is a fighter, i can be on my bloody knees before a dozen nazis and slice all their throats in moments before they know what's happening. I've only been with 3 girls, all long relationships and am still looking for my true soul mate on this planet, I've scavenged billions of galaxies looking and my search has ended here. You're here somewhere, I sense you. My ex got me put in jail to become a pornstar? She sent a threat to Kevin Spacey's website. The fuckers stole my movie 'The Thing' but made it shitty, read my synopsis or script at thethingfromanotherworld.webs.com. 2nd time feds kicked in my door, guns blazing, I told them my gf had shaved a penis in my chest hair, which she really did the night before, they looked and laughed and withdrew their guns out of our faces, I basically saved that crazy ex ponrstar, tattood bitch's life with my wittiness and her stupid art project she did on me when she was bored. Plus, having a lifesize darth maul figurine at the foot of my bed didn't really solidify to these saps I was a real serial murderer. I'm a handyman and can do just about anything, I'm currently building a movie set for my next silly video. I type 100 words a minute. I'm great with my mind, hands and dignity and I apply those things to women. I'm the most compassionate person alive or who has ever lived. I'm a registered rehabber wih the D.N.R. of Indiana. I"m incredible in all sports. I love spending time with someone I love watching movies and going out to eat, just waiting on that right girl. I have a bachelor's in English, and an associates from Minneapolis in Art instruction, but I'm happy with being a loser, being poor and having no future, I'm just trying to manage every day on this shitty planet, being a very lonely wise thing. I've been to California a dozen times in the last 2 years and not for vacation or my own accord (long story). I'm VERY down to earth and give great advice. If I could go to Chipotle daily I would, but I have no girl in my life, no significant other, no waddling penguin, no friend to hold my hand. i do like a girl alot, but i realize how fucked up i am, sometimes i don't even want to get out of bed, i'd need her to understand what its like to be lonesome and depressed, i really miss holding someone. we're all doomed to die, it sucks, i'm just trying to make my life as comfortable as possible with the little means i have, hopefully they'll put me on mental disability and i can continue my writing without having to work shit jobs to make ends meet, or save for a date with a girl and it never happens anyways go to a few of my sites myspace.com/andyp6 or Andy's Facebook link is below, its facebook.com/boathopper i have a new myspace account but rarely use it

#WHWJSVSIS SORRY I SAW THIS GUYS BLOG DESCIPITON AND IN DYING #long post

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