#i AM JOKING i do not wish death or torture on anyone for bad writing
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hiiii denethor anon here!! wow you’re really IN IT now (denethorposting). not to add more fuel to your anger but last week i saw someone say they hated denethor. and i just realised god they don’t get him even on tumblr do they. since then i’ve been silently fuming in rage. anyway… i am very Very Intrigued by both your faramir-goes-to-rivendell-au and denethor-thorongil relationship (if you ever want to write another 800 words about this, i am here for it 👀) and this line “each of them sharpens himself upon the whetstone of the other…” fuck. fucking insane actually.
unfortunately i won’t be replying for several days (i’ve had to keep my phone in another room to keep myself from getting distracted) . my exams have started AND i’m going through some shit irl :( it’s alright tho i’ll have more Faramir and Denethor Hours soon <- chanting this constantly haha. but i am with you when denethorposting IN SPIRIT okay. oh and can we please please please have denethor december? 🙏 bye will be here soon after my exams (that will be after the 23rd march i’m afraid)
hiii denethor anon <333 i am SO sorry this is so late truly attempting to figure out how to write AND see my friends AND do things like clean my apartment and go to the grocery store while working The Job...it has eaten my life. and this week my regular coffee shop switched their hours bc i live in my old college town and they are on spring break and it has sent me directly to hell. the death of My Routine…i have coped by INCESSANTLY denethorposting on tumblr dot com. i am somehow EVEN MORE in it than i was when you sent this ask. i hope you enjoy me being truly crazyinsane whenever you get a chance to look at all those posts lol. would love 2 hear your thoughts on them. but ANYWAY as always it is so lovely to see you, i'm sorry things have been tough but truly with my whole heart i bestow upon you the strength of denethor's sixty-year psychic war (with none of the associated madness) to make it through. looking at the date i hope you are free now.
here is the mandated readmore because i have never met brevity in my whole life. u said write another 800 words and i took that as a challenge um this post is like 2000 words. well...back on my bullshit
i mean this with all the love and joy in my heart but i laughed so much. no my dear friend they do not get him on tumblr. they have not gotten him on tumblr from the beginning. if you have been spared the incessant tomato jokes i truly…[crying] I Wish I Were You So Bad. this guy doesnt even know about the tumblr denethor slander (POSITIVE) (YEARNING). its the trenches out here for real. i just live in my little bubble with me and you and like four other mutuals/Denethor Understanders and that is it.
speaking of denethor and the rivendell au. i miss the days when i was working on the faramir-in-gondor scenes. emotionally it felt like dying but i kind of knew what was going on. now i am in rivendell taking and failing this history of middle earth exam. and i am so very….the next time we see denethor for real is in return of the king. now girl…how will i survive another 80k words. i miss my boy my dear darling my tortured victim of the narrative. and according to the paragraph i just wrote faramir does too but is Refusing to admit it to himself<3
im also RIDICULOUSLY torn on how i want to resolve his arc. now just between you and me. and anyone who bothers to click that read more. I DONT WANT TO KILL HIM I WANT HIM TO LIVE. GOD I WANT HIM TO LIVE. I WILL WRITE YOU A THOUSAND HAPPY ENDINGS. except its not a happy ending its a you are not allowed to die you are forced to contend with your choices you must keep living ending. because he will always be tragic no matter what. but its ALSO a you can rest now you can be at peace son of gondor you have won your war. all you sacrificed has been worth it. you have given your all when that's what duty asked you for and it has been enough. and that makes my poor heart weep.
like on one hand the idea of resolving his storyline with faramir.......the opportunity for some kind of reconciliation, some kind of understanding between them...god. delicious. i know in my heart that faramir comes home and IS the lord that denethor once dreamed of being. not playing at it...he is high and lordly and gentle and the world bends around his will and he knows exactly what to bow to and when to stand his ground and his powers are honed to a keen edge that he uses with the utmost care and. AUGH. he walks into the citadel the IMAGE of his father. it makes me feel FERAL. and how would denethor react to that. man.
BUT ON THE OTHER HAND HOW DO I END THE STORY. like. LOL. do u know what i mean. likelihood of me being able to just have a triumphant coronation and tie it all up with a bow is soooo small. the narrative contortions i would have to go through. to have denethor accept that and still be in character. Girl....no thank u <3 so we havent worked THAT out yet. like how much of the madness and despair do i want to put into the narrative. We Shall See. IM not politically savvy enough to get real into the weeds with it all so im kind of rotating just. a beautiful set of reunions with the fellowship. eowyn and faramir get engaged. boromir and faramir see all their dreams of a gondor restored come true. we skate over the political minefield and deeply navigate the beginnings of denethor and faramir's relationship in this new world. and among it all, within it all, is hope, and a new dawn. and curtain.
i got distracted but re: we are in rivendell. it IS kind of fun to think about the themes and narratives. i am pushing my Let Faramir (And Denethor) Be Numenorean + Let Numenoreans Be Weird agendas so so sooo hard and i am having the time of my life with that specifically. birds follow him around and pick up the tunes he sings. he hears the voices of the people he loves in his head. he falls into a river and after having a breakdown about it promptly decides that The River Is Testing Him And He Has Passed. he gets to rivendell and INSTANTLY knows that there is someone Very Like Him Here (its elrond. the elrond-elros-faramir connection has me FROTHING at the mouth. faramir looks at elrond and sees his father and sees every statue of elros in minas tirith and Knows that this here is the son of earendil, gil-estel, his brightest north star. elrond looks at faramir and sees his brother, his dear dead doomed brother, and every numenorean descended from him and all their sins and all their glories and yet, kind as summer, sees beauty and knowledge and a strange quiet man who carries all the weight of his country on his shoulders and yet knows him, knows the legends; perhaps the blood of numenor is not yet spent in the south)
i just think that Every Elf that meets faramir along the way is like woah...hold up. there's something up with THIS guy! men ARENT supposed to do that! not anymore anyway! galadriel is Lowkey Threatened by him. and isnt that beautiful. woman who could be queen of the earth sees god's special chosen boy and goes hang on a minute. Fuck. i think they work out their shit by the time the company leaves lothlorien but like...just thinking about how faramir lowkey blamed her for boromir's death in rotk! idk how their dynamic is exaclty gonna manifest but there's definitely some sort of similar mindreader2mindreader tension!
AND. um the idea of faramir travelling with the fellowship discovering that maybe...well. he has never wanted to be a warrior but he has been honed into a blade anyway. by his father and by necessity. and perhaps for the first time in his life...outside of gondor he does not need to be all that. he can be mithrandir's pupil without censure he can be scholarly and witty and cunning - he is all these things, in gondor. but there he has to be them, and now he can discover that yes, this is what he wants to be. and he has never let his father and the expectations of his position STOP him but there is always a weight, there is always the knowledge that your actions are disapproved of, and being away from that for a while is i just think. really good for him. see above re: he comes home the image of his father in a gentler time. keep honking im sitting in my car crying about denethor ii twenty sixth steward of gondor.jpg (<- my greatest creation PLEASE click the link lol)
ALSO IM THRILLED YOU LIKED THAT WHETSTONE LINE LOL i kind of blacked out when i typed it on the page. i think truly the crazy thing about denethor and faramir is that they SHOULD understand each other. they know so much about each other and yet are so incompetent at actually putting it to any good use towards, you know, improving their relationship. faramir is incredibly emotionally intelligent AND can read minds AND has taken so many of what he probably views as denethor's worst traits and turned them to gentler uses. (im talking about his powers but im ALSO talking about that thing he does when he encounters frodo and sam where he plays woe is me my brother is dead and i miss him sooo much to get on their good sides. yes of course he misses boromir more than anything else in the world. no he is not above using it to his advantage. and we see the SAME THING when gandalf and pippin come to minas tirith. hey isn't it crazy that both of them use boromir as a. manipulation chip. even after he's dead. hey thats kind of fucked up actually!) and denethor is…well denethor is denethor. ok im mostly messing around and thought that sentence was funny. i think he Knows most everything that goes on in faramir's head and yet Wilfully Chooses to interpret it in the worst ways because its just soo....very I Thought I Raised You Better Than That/I Honed You To Be My Blade Stop Defying Me. and despite all that the Problem is that they understand each other right up until they don't. they know how THEY feel about each other (incredible love that they can only express in the worst ways/think they're expressing only to be spurned by the other) but cannot POSSIBLY imagine that the other feels the same way.
ive gone on for SO SO LONG ALREADY LOL but. what do i have to say about denethor and thorongil. not enough and too much all at once. they're so toxic and awful for each other they're MADE for each other they're beautiful narrative parallels they're homoerotic besties they're bitter rivals they're pawns in a proxy war they're locked at all times in a psychic psychosexual situationship. um the enemy of my enemy is kissing me with tongue. idk i have more symbolism and actual analysis especially of the denethor-ecthelion-thorongil Issue. but we are just getting into it. so i will start with the situations bc i have two angles for this. on one hand i do think it is very fun if they constantly homoerotically circle each other for years and years and never do a THING about it. like...this is a stitching up wounds wiping blood off each others faces battle couple/situationship situation that THEN turns into a ridiculously high functioning political rival partnership bent together over books long into the night catching each others eye in council meetings using their very real disdain for each other for Manipulation Purposes and getting uh. SO hot over it. like.....Do You Know What I Mean. just. truly unresolved sexual tension THROUGH THE ROOF. it DELIGHTS me. they are always putting themselves in situations. and then NOT making out about it. AND THEY CAN READ EACH OTHERS MINDS!! THE WHOLE TIME!! SO THEY KNOW EXACTLY HOW MUCH THEY WANT EACH OTHER AND STILL ARENT DOING ANYTHING ABOUT IT!!! like thats just really good. but on the other hand.......the idea of just an absolutely terrible beautiful toxic rivals with benefits codependent situationship. i hate you so much and you know what we DO need to make out about it. every time they fuck it is a power play and they are having SO much fun with it. they will both start arguments with each other (AND IN PUBLIC TOO) just so they can fight and make up. the mind reading...Oh You Know What I Mean. taylor swift voice we had this big white city all to ourselves we blocked the noise with the sound of i need you and for the first time i had something to lose! logically thorongil is not yet in his grubby ranger era but the idea of him being dirt smeared all the time and hanging out with prim proper polished denethor. in the fic (which does exist and DOES follow the second model) theres a scene where hes just chilling with his head in denethor's lap and denethor is actually rather delighted and devoting ALL of his copious braincells to pretending not to be. Man. well never say im not a slut for contrast. and now the rest of what i could say is simply straight up redacted for indecency so it is time for this post to be over. the last thing i have to say is that it absolutely ruins denethor's life forever when thorongil up and leaves. sometimes a situationship....anyway. MUCH LOVE TO YOU AS ALWAYS yes we will have denethor december i already have an url saved.
#from the inbox#Anonymous#denethor anon#WAIT I PROMISE ILL TALK MORE ABOUT DENETHOR AND THORONGIL NEXT TIME BUT THE POST WAS ALREADY TWO THOUSAND WORDS#I HAD TO CUT MYSELF SHORT A BIT. I HAVE A LOT MORE TO SAY LOL#i hope this ridiculously long post made up for the THREE WEEKS it took me to reply<3#denethorposting#<- funnily this IS the url i have saved. for denethor december. life is beautiful
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This is a ridiculous and rambling, nonsensical post and I’m sorry for it, but I have a lot of stupid late night thoughts I need to write down just to stop it from circling my head. So I’m sticking it on my blog. It’s under a cut so it doesn’t burden anyone’s dash. No joke, little of this makes any sense, it’s essentially just there for my own purposes but obviously if you really want to read you can, just don’t expect to understand it, because I don’t lol.
I am still awake at 3am. Mostly can’t sleep because my brain is torturing me, won’t shut the fuck up. So I’m here, on tumblr, making it worse. I am having bad times obsessing over my own artistic talents and wondering what the fuck I’m going to do because I feel weirdly restless, like there’s something I should be doing but I can’t work out HOW. Like I need to get my fucking life together. I know there’s no time-limit but I dunno...I’m feeling more and more like there IS and it’s weird and unsettling. When I was a kid literally the only thing I wanted to do when I grew up (other than become a Jedi) was draw or paint. Arty things are the only things I’m even remotely good at. But I can’t sell anything I make, no matter what I do. So my brain goes; well, you’re just not good enough! And I know I’m good, I just think maybe I’m not good ENOUGH. Which is annoying because what the fuck even IS good enough? I enter competitions and my work doesn’t even get displayed, I don’t care much about winning, but it would have been nice if people could have seen the fucking work. But nope. I’m 35 and the only perfect thing I’ve ever ‘made’ is my daughter (yes, ok she’s not perfect to everyone but she is to ME). I just wish I could give her more. Having lost my mum (nearly a year ago now) it started dawning on me that I need to leave her something, I don’t want to leave her with nothing but burdens. I know, my mother didn’t mean to, she had plans and stuff but it happened and now my siblings and I are struggling to get shit done and it’s weighing everyone down. And the same thing will happen to my daughter as well and I HATE myself for it. I feel like I’ve wasted my life, which is stupid but feelings are feelings. I’ll admit, when I was young I wanted to be famous. I’ve always felt weirdly panicky about dying and being forgotten. It’s hard to explain, death doesn’t scare me, at least my own doesn’t. It’s inevitable. But I wanted to leave behind something. I don’t want to just disappear, if that makes sense. My hope was I could do that through my art. Art lasts. And yes, I have a child who could be considered me leaving something of myself behind but she’s not me, I don’t want her to be me. I want her to be herself. Make her own mark on the world in her own way. What I WANT to do is go back to uni. I want to study, finally get the degree I fucked up last time around but that costs too much. I want to set up somewhere to sell my art work. I want to travel to more places, although I’ve been to Greece and seen mount Olympus, I’ve been in a hot air balloon over the Nile in Egypt as the sun rose, I’ve been to Bulgaria, skinny dipped in France and seen the remnants of the Berlin wall in Germany (I’ve obviously been to Scotland, Wales, Cornwall and Ireland too) but the world is big and I want to see more places. I want to go to Italy, Japan, Norway and as many other places as I can. But at this point I doubt I ever will. Essentially I’m just lamenting all the shit I could be doing but can’t because money. Same as everyone else I suppose. Anyway, my mum believed in reincarnation and that every time someone is reincarnated they do so to learn something in this new life, but I have to wonder wtf I’m supposed to be learning here because so far it’s not clear at all. Maybe it isn’t supposed to be clear but a nudge in the right direction would help a lot.
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August 8, 2024, 12:00am
i think i’m nearing the end of my tenure.
i don’t mean to be a pessimist about everything, but it’s a hard ideology to escape. being raised by the internet is the worst thing to happen to me, and most likely will lead to me leaving. my parents marriage has been strained since before i have memories. so many bad times marking me from my childhood and teen years. what sort of life is spent wondering “what if?” for the better part of your days.
i’m still miserable, i still work at the job i hate. every drive has been a nightmare, not for traffic but for being alone with myself. i’m torturing myself. my thoughts are becoming slower and more focused, but on death and how worthless i am. my 23rd birthday passed a week ago, and i saw a tweet a few days after it, something like “always talking about getting your life together, bro you’re 22 it’s too late.” stuff like that sticks with me. we both know it’s a joke, you and i, but many jokes come from half truths. my brain compartmentalizes everything negative at the absolute forefront of every instance, and that little stupid post has bothered me for almost a week.
i didn’t feel loved growing up. i felt like i was fucking everything up, but never had anyone to look to for help. my parents chastised my mistakes but didn’t offer help in how i could do better next time. i would just be catching insults and having to figure it out myself. (i havent figured anything out.) i remember plenty of times trying to hide from them and the abuse, and while i’m thankful it was never physical, mentally i am scarred 100%. almost exactly 8 years ago, i was sitting in the closet behind me as i write this. my dog just died, and i had nobody to look to for comfort in the house. my mom was having a breakdown in the living room and my dad had just gotten home to join in. i was shaking and crying and remember how badly i wished Hussar was there with me. it’s a weird thing to deal with these things, always bringing the severity down when it really fucked my life up, you know? i didn’t develop any real skills as a kid, i begged my parents to let me quit everything they signed me up for, i didn’t have friends in person and didn’t know how to make them. i feel hopeless socially. i am terrified of people. moreso fearful i’ll like weird in front of them, or that i’ll be too over the top in the moment and push people away. me emotional maturity is nonexistent and wish that i was capable of working on it, i just have no clue where to begin. it’s like trying to learn a language without hearing or reading it, no foundation and no concept of what to even aim for.
truth be told i rambled the last half of that paragraph to avoid talking about the real shit: i thought about writing a note tonight. i’m starting to feel irredeemably hopeless, i lost the small amount of hope i had left that i honestly didn’t know was there. for people not in my shoes, it’s difficult to portray the feeling of just wishing to not be here. i don’t wanna experience death, i don’t wanna give up, but at some point the mental anguish i’m experiencing is piling up and overflowing. i wish i treated my mother better. it’s a funny thing being so conflicted about the person who’s supposed to be your world. like, “oh how can you wish to be kinder to someone who abused you?” the old saying—hurt people hurt people—is appropriate. my mother grew up with abusive parents herself, they were drinkers. on top of the abuse, i don’t remember if i mentioned it or not, but she’s very lonely, almost in a similar spot to me. we both are in constant solitary confinement. my dad seems unfazed but he’s a military man, and of us 3 he gets the most social interaction. i’m starting to tangent again, but the point being.. i have a lot of things i haven’t forgiven myself for yet. some days i feel like i’m intrinsically supposed to be evil, maybe i should be selling fentanyl or murdering innocent people for the thrill so good people have a job to do. maybe my purpose is to be the villain. as insane and illogical as that sounds, it’s a true side of my thoughts that i wish i didn’t have. the more logical side says that’s a stupid fucking plan.
i have a couple social gatherings coming up, i’m gonna see some friends from grade school and their friends from high school. i’ve only met two of them in person before and i’m horrified to meet the others. i don’t wanna be weird. we play games online and i’m still letting me frustration out on there. almost every night, i get off the computer feeling like a coward and a freak. at the bare minimum, my passtimes should be fun, but even simple things like video games are just.. i take them so seriously that i get blinded by rage. i punched my desk so hard earlier i gashed my fist open. i said a bunch of horrible shit like every other day, and not even because i really want that for someone else. i’d never genuinely wish for someone’s death. but i still say horrible shit that just is so fucking embarrassing. it’s exhausting, i feel like 2 completely different people some days. like, how can i go from a perfectly fine experience on Tuesday, having a good time, performed well, didn’t say anything crazy, to tonight. tonight, where i blew up and said i wished some random person hung himself in his closet. it’s funny to reread some of this stuff because i can’t even believe that it bothers me so much to the point i say such vulgar stuff. i think i brought my parents up because it’s a partial problem from how i was raised. you reflect who your parents are to an extent and my dad has always been prone to anger, my mom is severely mentally unstable. what a culmination! right?
for my last spew of bullshit.. (and no, i’m not gonna do anything to myself tonight)
i feel like my mind never slows down. the internet really has brought my mind to a place of dopamine dependency. TikTok, YT Shorts, top 5-10 lists, fast flashy advertisements. just EVERYTHING all feels like it’s limiting my attention span, and in turn, makes my brain crave for that next hit. the problem i got with that is how i don’t get a hit anymore from ANYTHING. the combo of my mental state and the fast pace that my thoughts are running at causes me to perpetually be negative to myself. i have days i can’t even look in the mirror because the voice in my head is gonna just start commenting on every slight imperfection. there’s no literal voice in my head, moreso it’s a dialogue between me and myself. the sheer impulse and violence that vibes from my brain needing dopamine is ruining my life, and as of now i have no power to control it. i need a mentor, maybe electroshock therapy or whatever my doc said. since sort of meth treatment or something where they give you tranquilizer and it alters your brain chemistry.
disjointed post but i don’t care, documenting my thoughts is what matters more than anything to me right now. this is probably great for the attention span thing. i’m never beating the loser allegations
love j
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I have been awake for so so long but like what is the message of Hellraiser (2022) ?
Like I don't need a clear moral; that is generally not a feature in a Clive Barker joint as far as I can tell
But usually there is like
An intentional subtext that I can track in one way or another.
From what I recall of the original Hellraiser film, the central character was almost like a MacBeth-type. Selling her soul and sacrificing others for her own selfish pleasure while her hairstyles got TALLER and her shoulder pads got BIGGER the more evil she got. Classic. She was 90% shoulder pad by the end of the movie. It felt more focused. The story made sense.
But Hellraiser (2022) still seems to end in a lot of innocent queer people being tortured in hell for all eternity as the (very well-acted and honestly very likeable) protagonist accepts that, hey, sometimes our gay brothers get sent to Hell because of our actions and... that is that, I guess.
She is given the chance to resurrect her brother and she turns it down.
And like, it'd be one thing if he was just dead and she chose not to resurrect him because it'd probably be fucked up in a twisted monkey paw way - Grief and regret as a form of torture that impresses even the Cenobites? That is a cool concept! I liked that! Refusing tainted gifts from unknowable and cruel beings and thus taking some control of your own narrative? Cool!
But... if her brother is not in some unknown afterlife and is in fact being eternally tortured, then her choice not to resurrect him takes on some very different tones.
I mean, the movie was effective. The monsters were scary in an unknowable existentially horrifying way. Neat.
But, like many horror stories, I came away feeling like the writers didn't think this all the way through, and so they tripped up at the end.
(Sidenote: Everyone go watch Fear Street 2021 and Candyman 2022 for examples of people not fucking this up. Check trigger lists tho. The former is gory, the latter is Heavy.)
12/10 on Lady!Pinhead tho. Loved her whole vibe and how she was framed.
The torture effects were way less abhorrent than most CGI, but I still yearn for the days of practical effects in horror. DUMP SOME FUCKIN BLOOD AND GOOP ON THE ACTORS SHOW A LITTLE HEART FOR GODSAKE
Anyway, this is just to say that if you make a horror movie with no point to it, I hope you rip your pants while you're on a date.
And if you make a BORING horror movie with no point to it, I hope you get haunted by a real-ass ghost.
And if you make a 12-hour horror series with no point, well.... I found this really cool box, and-- yeah, it's like a puzzle... no, you can hold it; try it out, see if you can solve it....
#original#Hellraiser#Hellraiser 2022#pinhead#horror movies#i AM JOKING i do not wish death or torture on anyone for bad writing#and as for the ghost haunting you can maybe have a casper ghost. maybe one that doesn't waste people's fucking time.#sorry sorry my gf always teases me for how angry i get when things waste my time lol. it's like. the worst thing a film can be is harmful#punching down is the worst thing. BUT RIGHT BEHIND THAT IS WASTING MY TIME AND YES THIS IS MOSTLY ABOUT BLY MANOR I WILL NOT GET OVER IT#hellraiser 2022 was not boring it just felt.... either unfocused or upholding shitty ideas. or maybe i am missing something. i am deeply#deeply sleep deprived#but yeah i just feel horror can address concepts of despair without feeling like the message is Just Fucking Give Up.#esp when the concept has to do with queer death. i am not a clive barker expert but nightbreed was like....#made during the aids epidemic and was like FUCK COPS. FIGHT AND KILL OR ELSE WE ALL SHALL BURN AND DIE.#so the ending of Hellraiser 2022 felt... bad. like nightbreed wasn't even like 'these monsters are secretly good!'. they were mostly not.#that isn't the point of it. but by god did it have some things to fucking say whether or not those things were all totally clear.#the cinematography in hellraiser 2022 was really good tho. obsessed w lady pinhead. v conflicted gay emotions over here.#like normally murder is a hard limit for me but i kinda see where the guro fans are coming from here#the only reason i get annoyed w shows and movies like this is bc they made good characters and good setups but the payoffs never#never quite work.#INSOMNIA#WOO#I LOVE SOLID THEMING. I LOVE TALKING ABOUT THEMING. I HATE BLY MANOR SO FRIKKING MUCH#horror movies be like 'oh I'm sorry - a theme? DID YOU MEAN THIS TOTALLY SICK TORTURE SCENE??' And it's like asking someone on a skateboard#'hey did you pick up dinner like you said you would?' and in lieu of an answer they just do a kick flip#and ur like 'oh. that looks cool but. it's still not food...?'
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Lowly Desire
Spin off.
(I am having writer's block. I do not know how to start the second chapter. But, there is a scene I want to write as part of the series.)
He was the Hades to your Persephone.
The monster chose the outfit and makeup for tonight's event. He was campaigning for a leadership role in the magical world he introduced.
It was a little confusing since you never thought magic existed. But, after a long time of being kidnapped, you didn't care about politics.
The reflection in the mirror was the look of a corpse. Old and sad. Old and broken spirited. Old and tired. Old. Old. Old.
How could a man who has grey hair turn an eighteen year old age just within months after stealing her from her home?
Torture. Rape. Degradation. Threats. Mocking. Haunting. Name Calling.
You fought against him when you woke up in his estate. He forced himself on you. Then he beat you. Starved you. Verbally abused you by making sick jokes which seemed funny to him.
You thought he was going to kill you after he had fun with you. The monster said the same thing.
But, he didn't kill you. Sadly.
He kept you alive.
He would rape you in the morning to wake you. Go away doing who knows what. Come home. Rape you again. Then sleep.
You grew bored of your routine. Apparently, he did not.
Deciding that waiting was worse than death. You tried to take your life.
His servant saw you and she stopped you then snitched.
The monster was furious but he didn't hit you. He looked rather sad and guilty.
Doesn't matter. You didn't want to live. Damaged beyond repair.
He stopped touching you for some days. Then, he couldn't keep away and would touch you but gentle. You let him. You tried to stare at the ceiling. But, he gripped your face and ordered you to look into his silver and hazel eye.
Ugly eyes he has. A scar too. Ugly old man.
Your thoughts interrupted when a young man with long raven locks cleared his throat.
You turned around and he gestured you to follow him. "Master Grindelwald will meet you at the party."
You didn't say anything. Whatever.
As you sat in the car. The young man began to drive. You looked out the window with your blank eyes.
You saw a poster of that ugly old man
How you wished someone turned him in. But, he has a magic wand and other unearthly advantages. A "Muggle" like you cannot escape.
He really was tough and mean at you when you first met him after being kidnapped. He would call you that and say racist stuff. Why would he sleep with you if you were that bad? He must have bad taste then.
Gellert Grindelwald stooped so low to be with a human with no magic.
How pathetic. You bitterly thought. He was blaming you for lusting you. As if it was your fault. You never said two words to him before waking up. What is his problem?
The door was held open and you followed the young man to through the crowd of people. The henchmen and servants of Grindelwald all seemed like bad people. You didn't bother to remember their names.
The raven haired boy didn't look bad. But, you were to scared to trust anyone. Gulping, you avoided the yells of people trying to get into the party.
You heard offensive names and cat calls.
"Name."
You knew that voice. You wanted to ignore. But, he would punish you. You didn't care. But, the monster said he will publicly degrade you with oral sex if you act up.
You turned to see the ugly old man's hair askew and neck tie ruined. His jacket was wrinkled. He seemed to have let himself be touched by the crowd
He sure loves touching people you thought.
Gellert walked up the stairs towards you and smiled at you for the first time. He held out his hand and you took it immediately. Better to obey quick and get it over with.
Pleased by your actions. He made you stand close to him. The crowd cheered.
You two looked like an ideal couple.
To make things worse. He kissed your temple. You saw cameras around you taking pictures.
As you were busy the young man with raven locks was watching you with sad eyes. You must have felt lonely being away from family and forced to accept a life you wish to escape. Like him. How he missed his father and uncle. He pitied you. He wanted to help. But, Grindelwald was too powerful. He didn't care of his life. But for his father and uncle. What to do?
Grindelwald on the other hand, grinned and waved before leading you inside the building. You kept a stoic expression.
Grindelwald felt guilt and sadness. You used to have life and spirit. Now, you are a walking corpse and an empty shell.
He regretted treating you the way he did. He thought if he satisfied his carnal desires, he would be rid of you.
Now, he wants you to stay.
The said man greeted politicians and his opponents. He made you sit down at a table as he walked up the podium.
"Thank you all for coming. I know eyes are on me because I brought a lovely young lady with me. Allow me to introduce her." The crowd looked at you. " May I introduce, Name. My future wife."
#mads mikkelsen#fantastic beasts 3#gellert grindelwald#gellert grindelwald x reader#yandere Gellert Grindelwald x reader
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Promise pt. 5 || Kaz Brekker
Summary: When the life of Kaz is threated by her presence, she had to make a crucial decision that will bring misunderstanding among the two of them. Now that he has his Fire Girl, will he be able to keep her, or Dirtyhand will mess everything up?
Pairing: Kaz Brekker x grisha!Reader
Warning: angst, Kaz being Dirtyhands for ten minutes straigh, spoiler of Six of Crows, my english.
A/N: Thank all of you for the comments, the likes and the shares. I didn't expected that this little idea would have captured your attention, really you made my writing more enjoyable and easy. I'm so sorry if I'm late but I've been sick these days and I couldn't finish the chapter :( there are a lot of things that I want to tell you, see you at the end of the chapter ;)
PT. 1 - PT. 2 - PT. 3 - PT. 4
MAIN MASTERLIST
Few days passed with the girl lying on her bed recovering from the wound that the fight gave her.
When she opened her eyes after have fainted in Kaz's arms, fear had been the first to come to visit her. Fear of being already tied at some bed on a ship, sold at the Shu that would have been more than happy to make experiment on her. She was scared that the temptation must have been too much for Kaz Brekker to have such a value grisha in his hands, but then she noticed she was in her room at the Slat and a rush of tiredness hit her making her sleep again.
The other times she opened her eyes someone among Jesper, Inej and Wylan was always at her side, changing the bandage and bringing her food.
Inej told her that her father, Jan Van Eck, was now aware that she was part of the Dregs, and she was under Kaz Brekker's protection. Everyone was aware she was a grisha, but neither Jesper and Inej seemed to mind her lie, maybe because they had secrets too, she though.
A morning a letter came for Kaz, a letter from her father.
Mister Brekker
we never had the occasion to meet, and you'll agree with me when I say that I wish to keep things like this. Voice is spread that you have my beloved daughter with you. I hope you understand that she is a danger for this city. I've sent her away many years ago with the only interest of protecting Kerch from her, but I see that I could have done things in a better way.
It is as a father that I ask you to bring her to me so that I can repair my mistakes. She is a danger for all of us if not under control, Mister Brekker, and I am sure you saw it yourself last night. She has to face a trial for her crimes and be sent where she can't be a danger for anyone anymore. If she doesn't come back in seven days, I should consider you and your Dregs as her accomplices, planning to attack Ketterdam and all Kerch using her power.
Surely a smart men as yourself doesn't want those kind of problems.
Hope to see my city safe again,
Jan Van Eck.
Inej had brough the letter at her in the afternoon, and in the evening the grisha girl was already planning her escaping from Ketterdam for the third time in her life.
She didn't want to leave Wylan, hell she had promised him they wouldn't split up ever again, but if her plan worked then he would have been able to follow her after few months. If the Van Eck siblings moved together they would have caught too much attention, and they had to do everything in secrets.
Wylan tried to convince her to stay. He was sure that Kaz would have helped her, Wylan was sure that Kaz Brekker would have sealed all Ketterdam to keep her save, and even if as her brother he didn't like her closeness with the Bastard of the Barrel, he couldn't deny that it was useful.
"I'm putting all of you in danger just staying here. If I go away father will have nothing to threat you with." she said putting her clothes in her bags. Seven days, she couldn't give her father the time to close all the harbours in Kerch. If she wanted to go she had to do it as soon as possible.
"Talk to Kaz! Let see what he says, please." begged Wylan grabbing her hands in his to stop her.
She looked in his beautiful blue eyes and saw hope. "You really think Kaz has the power to keep me here?"
Her brother smirked. "I think Kaz would tear apart this city to keep you save. Talk to him, keep your options open."
Dirtyhands would never fight a battle where he couldn't win money, but Y/n was willing to try. That night after dinner she decided she would speak with Kaz and see if he was willing to keep her.
"Let see what the great Kaz Brekker think about it." she sighed putting her arm around Wylan's shoulder and walking downstair where their dinner waited them.
Kaz Brekker sat in his office, in his gloved hands the red handkerchief and Jan Van Eck's letter. Before that morning the death of Van Eck had been one of the many he wanted to deal with for what he had done to his Fire Girl, but now his death had taken a shape, colours and many details that Kaz's was adding one by one.
Brick by brick, Kaz would take all his enemies down, and Y/n was more than welcome to take her revenger with him.
He went downstair at the second floor walking toward Y/n's room. He wanted to check how she was, and speak with her about how she wanted to deal with her father. He didn't know if she wanted his actual death, but he was just fine with torture.
When he reached the door and looked inside his blood froze. All her things were packed in three bags, all her clothes were gone from her wardrobe and none of her objects were around the room. Neither the little portrait of she and baby Wylan that she kept on her bedside table before falling asleep.
She is leaving you.
These words felt like a stab in his chest, like someone had taken the oxigen from his lungs. Would she, leave him? Yes. Y/n would find a better life everywhere out Kerch, it was reasonable that she was already packing. When she wanted to leave? Where she wanted to go?
He knew nothing about it and Kaz Brekker always knew everything. Especially of what happened in his Slat. But this time the girl was leaving him, again, and she hadn't had talked with him about it. She hadn't advised him. Did you really think she was going to live this life just for you? For a man who can't even hold her hands without hyperventilate? A man who can't give her the love she deserve?
The fear he saw in her eyes when she saved his life with her power wasn't because she was feared of his rejection; she feared that he would have send her out of the Dregs, without protection and away from her brother.
He stormed back in his office, anger filled his boody and what else? Disappointment? Sadness? He was angry with himself because he had been a fool again. He had let someone playing with him again, that's what Y/n had been doing. She had been toying with him. She had made sure to have a safe place where live, a job and her brother beside her. Every little nice things she did for him was just to keep him close, to keep Dirtyhands at bay.
Like a fury he threw everything that was on his desk on the floor with his arms. Documents, the handkerchief, the letters, were all on the floor but he couldn't care less. She wanted to leave? Fine. Dirtyhands didn't care.
A known shiver crossed his spine before he heard a knock at his door.
"What?" he didn't look up when the girl entered, too focus on something in the drawers of his desk.
"Wow, and I though to be the one who had a bad day." she joked looking the mess at his feet.
He didn't smile, or smirked. He kept his eyes on something she coudn't see. "What bussiness?"
What bussiness. Those words were the greeting in Ketterdam when two bussiness men met, but the grisha girl though that she and Kaz had passed that step. He must had really a bad day, and it could have been because of the letter...she though sadly.
Who knew what other problems her father had caused around Ketterdam to earn the attention of Kaz, to push him to hand her in his hands.
"My father...I don't want any of you to be in danger because of me." she said carefully walking closer to his desk. A glimp of red captured her eyes but the pain at her waist made her close her eyes for a second.
"I'd say it's too late for it, isn't it?" he asked coldly. She took a step behind, taken back by his coldness toward her. "You seemed to enoy keeping secrets, didn't you? Do you know how easier it would have been knowing about your being grisha months ago?"
That wasn't the boy who had brough her in his arms out from the gala. He wasn't the boy who fought beside her, spied beside her and saved her a couple of time.
"I am sorry, I truly am Kaz. But I know what is the price of being a grisha here...it wouldn't have been easy for me walking with a target on my back. I have done it my whole life."
He refused to look her in the eyes, and it was driving her crazy. Was he really that mad at her that he couldn't bare even the sight of her?
"You decided for yourself, a thing you tend to do often I see." she was sure he had never spoken to her like that, neither in his bad days, and Kaz Brekker had a lot of bad days. "You swore loyalty to the Dregs, to the Crows. If you can't trust us then you shouldn't stay here."
He had said the crucial words, and there was no going back. She wanted to leave, then he would make sure to let her believe that he didn't care. That he didn't care about not finding his hot coffee on his desk again, or that from that day on he wouldn't feel the shivers in his spine anymore. He pretended to not care about not seeing her anymore. She had left him once, he could survive it a second time.
"That's it? That's what you want?" she felt her voice dying in her throat. Was her mistake that big? You knew that once Kaz knew what you were he would have pushed you away like everyone else. 'No one will understand you as the other of your kind', Baghra once told her, but when she met Kaz she believed that her old teacher was wrong. Kaz Brekker had been her safe harbour when no one else would care about her, was she so easily replaceable for him?
"You would have leave anyway at some point, you said it yourself the first time we met at the Club. Today, tomorrow, in five years...I don't see the difference." he shrugged like he didn't care.
He doesn't, her mind reminded her.
"Alright then...I don't want to be of any trouble to you anymore..." she whispered with her hands behind her back. She hated how little she felt, but he was sendind her away. Kaz Brekker, the boy she'd die for. The boy who had let her felt hope again after years, the boy who made her laugh even when he surely didn't mean it. The boy in who she was willing to put the most important years of her long life, that boy was sending her away without looking back.
"Then go." he said fixing his eyes in hers. She could feel the sharpness of his eyes cutting her chest.
"Fine, then I'll just-" she stopped talking when her eyes landed on the red thing she had seen before. A red handkerchief. Her feet moved on their own will. Before she could register what was happening she had the red handkerchief in her hands, her eyes fixed on the three letters on it. W. V. E.
"Y/n don't-" Kaz stood up trying to stop her but it was too late.
"Why do you have my brother's hand-" she was confused, but then her eyes raised to the boy in front of her. His brown eyes, his dark hair and pale skin, and in a second her mind brough her a memory.
The little boy smiled standing before her. He was at the same height of her belly, but his eyes seemed older.
"I have still things to do, and people I need to find. " the last words said with rage.
"Take care of yourself, boy. Don't let the bad days winning your good ones, there is always light at the end of a tunnel; you only have to walk a little more."
And then another.
"What is you name little boy?"
"K-..." he stopped for a long moment thinking about it. He looked the girl beside him and even if he wanted to trust her he just couldn't after what happened. "Jordie..."
"J-Jordie?" she asked, her voice trembling. "I-...You are not him, aren't you?" he stayed silent, looking her like a statue. "You would have told me if you were him...Kaz you are not the little boy I met eight years ago, right?!"
Her voice raised squeezing the handkerchief in her right fit.
She saw him gulped before answering slowly. "Yes, I am."
She took two huge steps back breathing eavily. He had known me all along. "Why you've never said anything? That day when you approached me, you knew who I was and you offered me a...job..."
"Can you keep a secret?" she asked touching his shoulder with her own. The boy, whose name wasn't obviously Jordie, nodded looking her curiously. She smirked bringin her left hand on her right one and rotating them slowly. A flame came out from her right palm, little but still powerful; red and orange like the handkerchief she had given him before.
The boy's eyes shone marveled looking the flame on her palm. "You are a grisha!"
The truth hit her hard. She raised her eyes in his letting him see the betrayal. "You had always knew what I was. That's why you gave me the job...you didn't care that I was new, you didn't care that I was the girl you met when you was a child. You wanted an Inferni to work for you!"
Every words, every attention, every talk they shared were all lies. Nothing of what he said was true, Kaz Brekker didn't need a reason, he didn't need a reason to give a job to a girl new in town, but it was clear that Kaz Brekker always had a reason. She had been only too foolish to not understand everything before.
She thought she was good to keep a secret, but something like her power couldn't pass unnoticed to Kaz Brekker. She had been a fool to believe he didn't know about her power. It was the only reason he kept her in the Dregs since the beginning.
"An inferni would have been very useful, but you have proved to know how to do your job perfectly without your power. Now, if you want to go you are free to do so. Nothing bind you here." he said, his voice cold as death.
You bound me here, she wanted to shout. But it had been Kaz's plan all along. Making her believe she was different, making her believe he saw her.
"Nothing." she repeated before walking away from his office, leaving the boy alone with the loudly silent that filled the room, staring at the handkerchief that she let fall on the ground, the only thing that had always bound them.
***
The next morning Kaz woke up and knew immediately that something was wrong. He took his cane and walked downstairs to the kitchen where he heard people talking out loud.
"I swear Jesper, when I see him I-" Wylan stop talking in the exact moment Kaz stepped in the room. The red haired boy fixed his eyes on him and before he could understand what was happening Wylan was yelling at him with all the rage he felt. "How dare you coming here like nothing happened!?"
Jesper had to put his arms around Wylan's torso to keep him from throwing himself on Kaz. "Last time I checked this was my Slat."
"And you find amusing sending people away, don't you?" Wylan spoke spitting venom from his mouth. "She needed help and you turned your back at her!"
Now Kaz needed few minutes to make his brain, still sleepy, working to connect the dots. It was clear that Wylan was talking about his sister, who seemed to have played the victim with her own brother.
"If you want to know, merchling, she decided her will herself. She came to me to let me know she was leaving." Kaz shrugged walking toward coffee machine. He didn't have the strengh to face an angry boy if he wasn't properly awake.
"As hell she did. She came to ask you what to do and you sent her away." Kaz let his words running in his head for a while, studying them one by one.
He didn't..."When she came in my office she had already decided." he refused to tell them he had seen her bags ready in her room, he refused to let someone know he cared.
"No Kaz, she didn't." This time Inej spoke, he hadn't even noticed she was there. "She wanted to leave to protect you from her father, but Wylan convinced her to slow down and come to you to ask what to do."
No, no, it was not possible. "When she came in your office she hadn't decided yet. You gave her the answer, Kaz." Jesper spoke keeping his hands on Wylan's shoulders, who now was sat on a chair with his face in his hands.
I would have noticed if she was asking me what to do. She had her bags ready...she came to me to tell me...his thoughs were running wild inside his head.
"That's it? That's what you want?"
Kaz tried to put his thoughs together. He tried to find a logic of what had happened the night before.
"You had always knew what I was. That's why you gave me the job...you didn't care that I was new, you didn't care that I was the girl you met when you was a child. You wanted an Inferni to work for you!"
No, no, no. Everything was so wrong again. He though she was going to leave him and he had let her believe that he had used her all this time. He though she was leaving him...that was the only thing he had needed to loose his mind.
"You didn't know..." whispered Inej surprised.
Kaz couldn't trust his voice enough to not break in front of everyone so he just shoke his head slowly looking the Suli girl in the eyes.
"What have you done..."murmured Jesper rubbing his eyes with his hand. "Alright, if you hurry you should arrive before the schooner leaves."
"Fifth harbour?" Kaz asked with raspy voice.
"Yes! Go!" said the Zemeni boy excited. "I love a dramatic romance."
He didn't let him repeated twice, ready to run if he had to he walked toward the door when Wylan's voice stopped him.
"Brekker, bring her back." Please, was the word the boy let unspoken.
He nodded before running toward the harbour. He took just his cloat at the door, leaving his hat behind. He couldn't let her leave again. He had to arrive in time, and if he didn't he would have swim until he'd found himself on the schooner and ask sorry to her for his infinity dullness.
"Alright then...I don't want to be of any trouble to you anymore..."
She wasn't a trouble, he wanted to shout in the air. She had never been a trouble, he was the wrong one. He was the twisted, crooked, problematic who couldn't stop himself from hurt her everytime.
"My father...I don't want any of you to be in danger because of me."
Even when she was the one in danger, she would think about him first. He didn't see it last night, too focused on accusing her of betrayal. Betrayal of what? She hadn't broken any vows she made. She wasn't bind to him, she own him nothing and surely Ketterdam did nothing to earn her protection.
Since the first day she had stayed on her own will, she had stayed beside him even when he pushed everyone away. That's what got under his skin, her perseverence. She kept fighting for him, she kept seeing good in him and the only thing he had been capable of was making her feel used and unwanted.
He saw the harbour and he barely noticed that he hadn't used his cane. It would have just slowed me, he thought already searching his girl with the eyes.
He owed her an explanation, he owed her a lot of apologies, and then she would decide if she wanted to stay. Kaz swore to everyone who was listening that if Y/n chose to stay in Ketterdam with him, he would have made sure to be worth her choice. He would fight everyday to go trought his boundaries for her, with her. He would be the man she deserved.
"The schooner for Os Kervo." Kaz asked urgently to a man. He knew Y/n, she would find a safe home in Ravka at the Little Palace where the grisha were safe and strong.
"The first one left this morning at four bells, the next it's at the berth twenty-four, leaves in half bell." the man answered.
Kaz didn't think twice and ran toward the schooner with his heart in his throat. Please, saints if you exist make sure she hadn't already left.
He felt pathetic. Never in his life he had ever prayed, but he though that if it gave him a chance to see her again that it was worth a try.
He arrived at the schooner, but looking around he didn't see her. She must be already on board, he though and without difficulty he went on the ship.
There wasn't many people, but from what Kaz knew the grisha girl could have been already in her room and there was no way to find her before that schooner left.
He felt a shiver in his spine, telling him that she was close, but he didn't know where to look. Right, left, he looked everywhere. People around him looked him worried.
She can't be gone, he kept reapeting in his head like a mantra.
"Came here to bring me back to my father?" a voice said from above him. "How much did he offer to you? Must be a lot to affront a grisha alone."
His heart missed a beat and when he looked over his head he though he might start to believe in saints.
She was there, perched on one of the boom. Her hood was up hiding her face like she always did when she was out of their zone. She was a wanted grisha now, and he felt a grip on his heart at the though that she was used to that life of a runner.
You are not alone anymore, Fire Girl, he though vividly.
"I thought you had decided to leave..." he said. It didn't sound like an apologize at all...Damn Saints, there were a bilions things he wanted to say her, and yet his throat felt dry when he could talk.
"I did." her voice was sharped as a blade and cold as ice.
He gulped, I deserve this. "I know..." He had a flashback of their first conversation at the Crows Club, and cold shivers ran in his blood. I will not make the same mistake twice. "I should have told you who I was since the beginning."
"Maybe if I knew I didn't have to hide my power you could have had your personal inferni sooner." it was his fault. He had let her believe that he wanted her just for her power, but it wasn't true. Kaz Brekker kept her with the Dregs because he couldn't bare the though of her being hurt or threated.
"Could you get off from that boom? Please..." the last word burned in Kaz's throat like fire. It wasn't easy for him to say out loud his feelings, but he knew it would have been the only thing to make her stay. He owed her the truth.
She scoffed and jumped, landing in front of him with the lightness of a feather. Crossing her arms over her chest she studyed him from under her hood, waiting for him to speak first.
You want me sto stay, you have to say it, her posture told him.
"I saw your bags in your room, I though you wanted to leave me, the Dregs. I would understand if it what you wish, but you have to know that I was angry. Angry because I though you didn't trust me. You had just packed all your things without talking to me first, I though...I though you..." said those words Kaz brekker, a voice said in his mind. "I though you used me as a protection, nothing else. And when you showed up in my office I though you were going to say me you were leaving. No question, no mouners."
She stayed silent for a bit, surely surprised by his words. He couldn't see her whole face from his height, and he needed to use all his self control to not take it and push it down.
"The only reason I decided to leave was because my father knew about you. I knew he would have used you against me if I stayed, and I couldn't put you in danger just because I wanted to be selfish." her voice had softened a bit, but it was still sharp as she was ready for any attack from him. "Wylan convinced me that you would have helped me, that you would have been willing to fight for me. But when I come to you, I find Dirtyhands planning my departure. And what I find out? That you kept me under your roof just because you knew I was a grisha."
"It's not true." he stopped her firmly. "I knew you were a grisha, but never in my head I though about using you for your power."
"Then what other reason to keep the truth about our first meeting from me?"
Now it's the moment. Don't let your shame eat you alive, put yourself together and take your Fire Girl back.
"Because I was ashamed of the man I became. Because if you knew who I was you would have seen that the little boy you met eight years ago doesn't exist anymore. You would have seen that I failed you..." saying finally those words after a year left him lighter.
She gasped softly. It's not true, I can still see that little boy right in front me... "No, I failed you. You were a child Kaz, you had no faults. I should've stayed with you."
She could see the surprise on Kaz's face when she spoke those words. She had time to think that morning, at the little boy she left alone in the streets of Ketterdam. The boy who had kept her secrets all those years and never blackmailed her.
"I don't think something would have changed. I chose my path." he said with his raspy voice. How many nights he had dreamt about that moment? When he would finally speak with her, when the little boy and the Fire Girl would meet again.
"Becasue no one was there for you. Beccause you were alone. But if someone would have taken care of you, if someone would have showed you another way, maybe everything would have been different." maybe you would have been different.
She wasn't disappointed in what Kaz had became, she knew that everything he did it was to survive at the Barrel. She was proud that he had found the strengh to fight and live; Y/n would change nothing of the man she had in front of her.
The captain of the schooner announced that they were ready to leave and Y/n took a deep breath. "You should go..."
"Come with me." his mind, his rational part stopped working. There were nothing to brake his tongue. "Eight years ago you asked me if I wanted you to stay with me, and I said no. Today I'm asking you to stay in Ketterdam, with me, with the Crows. We cant-...I can't loose you. Not again."
Her heart started to beat faster like a roller coaster. Was Kaz Brekker the one who was talking in front of her? The Bastard of the Barrel was asking her to stay with him. You are going to put him in danger, a voice in her mind reminded her.
She looked Ketterdam behind him, as she could see her father's house.
Kaz saw the shift in her face's direction, and immediately understood what was thinking that mind of her. He rose a gloved hand in front of him taking her by surprise.
"If you wish to go to Ravka I will not stop you, but if you give me a chance I'll try everyday to be the man worth to stay by your side. And I promise you..." he took a step forward making her gasp. "I promise you we will take down everyone who threat us and we'll make them know the real meaning of the word suffer."
That's the Dirtyhands I fell for, she though smiling brightly. She took his hand firmly feeling his fingers closing around hers. "Just one condition." He raised an eyebrow to say 'continue please'. "Jan Van Eck is mine, and he's not going to die until I say so."
She knew that Kaz wasn't the only one who had changed in those years, and there were no reasons to hide it. The grisha girl who lived in the shadows and the little boy who was scared would never meet again, both had died when the world had turned its back to them. Both had raised like phoenix and became stronger.
"The deal is the deal, Fire Girl." he smirked walking with her toward the berth. The schooner was already leaving and there was a little void between the berth and the schooner, so Kaz squeezed her hand and they both jumped. When their feet touched the berth he didn't notice he was laughing with her. Her hood was over her forehead and he couldn't hold it anymore, he stood in front of her with the steady hands of a magician and gently lowered it, feeling the hurge to see her smile again. "No secrets anymore."
"No secrets anymore." she replied keeping her eyes in his.
It was their promise to start from the beginning. Their past was a beautiful story to remember, but they would fight for their future side by side, and little did she know that for all the time she hadn't spoken with Kaz Brekker, Bastard of the Barrel. But the boy in front of her, with the light of hope in his dark eyes was the normal, simple Kaz Rietveld.
A/N:OH MY GOODNESS WE ARE HERE! This is the end of the story of our lovely, brave Fire Girl and our little, cute Kaz. I think I can cry... This is the chapter that most I love of the series and I think you can see why! Writing it was so emotional and still so easy, I knew from the first moment how I wanted their story to end and how I wanted to write it. I have many ideas for a future book with those two idiots, but in the mean time...would you like a bonus chapter where we are gonna see how they're managing they're "relationship"? Maybe where he tells her his real name...👀 but now tell me, what was the part that you most liked? Would have you made the same decisions as them? MY CHAT AND REQUESTS ARE OPEN SOO I'm gonna wait you there ;)
p.s. : who recognize the scene from an old tv series for young I took ispiration for the fight and the departure? 👀
#kaz brekker imagine#kaz brekker x reader#kaz brekker x grisha#kaz brekker#the crows#jesper fahey#inej ghafa#wylan van eck#matthias helvar#nina zenik#grishaverse#shadow and bone imagine#shadow and bone#six of crows imagine#six of crows#soc#crooked kingdom#imagine
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BILLY — Kim Taehyung (3)
Synopsis: News of a Sadistic Serial Killer nicknamed “Jigsaw” is spreading around town like wildfire… the nickname stemming from the puzzle piece he cuts from every victim’s body. No one knows who he’ll trap next but in a town full of delinquents and criminals, it could never be you. Right?
Pairing: yandere!Taehyung x f!reader
genre: angst, horror, weirdly some fluff lol
Warnings: dark themes, yandere, stalking, manipulation, conditioning, mentions of abuse, suicidal ideations/attempts, self harm, murder, depictions of torture etc (basically its gorey and fucked up), angel trap, etc stabbing and guns. do not read if triggered!!!!
wordcount: 2.2k
taglist: @yes-sol-not-soul @yoongiofmine
a/n: pt 3 is here!! honestly i wasnt expecting this amount of support as i’ve never published my writing before so thank u sm ♡ i was inspired to write this one night and i had no idea where it’d go or anything but i’m happy with the way its turning out :D fun fact abt me, i’ve been obsessed w the franchise since i was little and i actually have 2 saw tattoos, one of billy and one above saying “cherish your life” since that’s pretty much the motto of saw :) and i have quite the collection of saw/billy items so why not turn my fav horror film into a fucked up love story! let me know if u would like to be added to the taglist and pls enjoy reading^^ feel free to send me asks abt the series or anything u want~ i love hearing from u guys!! :D ps— taehyung and the reader dont have much interaction in this part,, theyll definitely be more of them together in part 4 :) unedited so pls excuse any mistakes!! tysm <33 and remember these are fictional characters and do not represent bts personally in any way!!
series masterlist
part one part two
The headlines constantly named the Jigsaw Killer, Billy. The somewhat eerie little doll that had a face as white as a Calla Lily with spirals on it’s cheeks as red as the blood that was shed during the tests. Billy was always dressed in a little black suit with a red bowtie and he was (most of the time) situated on a squeaky battered tricycle. Attached was always a tape that read “play me” and when the subjects did, a chilling voice— one that could make even the world's worst predators shiver with terror— would echo around the room.
Everyone knew that a doll clearly wasn’t responsible, yet they gave it the name Billy in hopes to somewhat humanise the face that instilled panic— they did not want to live in fear.
It was the only face behind the killings.
But this time, there was a different subject stuck in the test and Billy had made sure there was no way for them to survive.
“How are you scared of heights? You’re practically a giant yourself!”
“Just because I’m tall doesn’t mean I can’t be scared of heights Y/Nie.”
You had no idea how long had passed since Taehyung had turned up at the garage, you were too busy chatting away squeezed into the kitchen while your Dad, Yoongi and Hobi worked on the cars in the shop. If anyone could hear you both, they would think you’d known eachother since childhood— the playful jokes and light touches exaggerated that.
You’d only known him for a few hours really, if you added the time spent with him on the first day and now. It hadn’t seemed like all those weeks ago that you first met, he had a familiar presence, as though you had known him for years compared to the hours.
“I just wouldn’t imagine you to be scared of anything Taehyung… you seem so confident and fearless.”
You saw the way Taehyung looked at you. His eyes flashed with understanding.
“I did have my fears back then, much like yours.”
“What do you mean?” you had a rough idea on what he meant but you needed him to voice it.
A deep inhale and the words flowed from his lips before he could stop it, “The fear of living. I had been through some stuff you know, growing up. My mum was working a lot and my dad was an alcoholic, he was so fucking possessive and wouldn’t let her go anywhere without kicking off. It was a fucking shitshow and so toxic. This one time though, I’d pretended that I’d gone to school and waited outside the front door. It didn’t take long before I heard shit getting smashed and my dad shouting.” Taehyung was telling the truth only, he left out the part where he was also as possessive, if not more, than his father. Well, let's say… obsessive. “I just ran in the house and saw my dad towering over my mum and I don’t remember what happened but, I do remember my mum crying and my dad disappeared.”
Now Taehyung was lying through his teeth. He remembered clearly, almost like it was yesterday. He smashed the nearest bottle, pulled his mother away from the monster that scared her and stabbed him. Not just once, not twice but thirty-seven times. Hence the thirty seven tattoo on the palm of his right hand (the one he’d actually killed his father with). There was only Taehyung who knew what it meant, he counted every single time the broken glass pierced his father’s body, he counted with a smile on his face and a chuckle in his throat.
You were at a loss for words. Your mouth gaped in shock, eyes wide and your brain scrambled for the right thing to say. You reached over and grabbed his hand, interlacing your fingers. His thumb running back and forth along your hand. “I’m sorry, I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like.” There was no way you could relate, your mother and father were happy and in love. They had the ideal relationship, one you wished for yourself. You could empathise though.
“You don’t need to be sorry baby, it’s in the past and I’ve moved on from it. I was like you though, poisoned by the roots that keep you on the ground even though you wanted nothing more than to break free and be no longer.” A silence fell over you both before Taehyung uttered, “I wasn’t successful with my attempt so now I’m here to help you.”
Warmth spread throughout your body, a smile graced your features as you no longer felt alone.
You had a completely different idea to what those words actually meant.
It was nearing the evening when Taehyung’s car had been fixed. Yoongi popped his head in the kitchen to tell him but stopped himself so as to not interrupt the scene before him. You were laughing along to whatever Taehyung was babbling about with your hand resting on his bicep, with that look in your eyes that he hadn’t seen for years. Yoongi felt himself smile as he saw you hanging onto Taehyung's every word.
For the first time in forever, you looked alive.
Yoongi cleared his throat which drew yours and Taehyung’s attention, “Sorry to interrupt guys. We’ve finished with your car so whenever you’re ready we’ll be outside.” The infamous gummy smile overtook his features, you felt yourself beam in return.
“Thanks man! I’ll be like, five minutes.”
Yoongi nodded his head in reply and swiftly left the room.
You’d taken Tae’s hand into yours, playing with the array of rings that occupied his fingers. Solemn thoughts overtook, am I not gonna see him again? Was this, whatever this is, over before it had even begun? Your eyes stayed on his hand as you turned it over and traced your finger over the inked ‘thirty seven’ on his palm. “What does this mean?”
Taehyung didn’t think twice before he practically beamed out, “It’s my lucky number.”
The difference was, it wasn’t really his lucky number… although he did see it that way. It was the number that had stayed with him. It was something he was proud of, whenever he looked at the hand that killed his father, his chest filled with pride and a joyous feeling overtook his senses. It was his first murder. Something he relished in and thus, created the onslaught of Jigsaw killings. He targeted a certain type— those whose sins would lock them up forever if they were ever found out. Racists, murderers, rapists, drug dealers, con-men. Authoritative figures who abused their power. He even went as far as subjecting suicidal people.
You see, things aren’t sequential. Good doesn’t lead to good, nor bad to bad. People who steal, don’t get caught, they live the good life. Others lie, cheat and get elected.
Some people would call it karma but Taehyung, he called it justice.
He’d started this with one thing on his mind— those that don’t appreciate life do not deserve it.
Whenever a serial killer was on the loose, the press did what they always did. They gave them a nickname. While the public had named the doll Billy. The actual killer was named ‘Jigsaw’.
This stemmed from the jigsaw piece that was cut from the victims skin, no one knew why he was doing it or what it even stood for.
It did have a meaning although unknown to the public.
The jigsaw piece that was cut from the subjects was only ever meant to be a symbol that that subject was missing something. A vital piece of the human puzzle. The survival instinct.
After all, until a person is faced with death, it’s impossible to tell whether they have what it takes to survive.
Across town an underground abandoned warehouse, was where the next subject had found themselves.
They were suspended in the air, their feet merely dangling above the ground. The putrid smell of death lingered in every crevice, the sound of rats scurrying along the concrete floor filled their ears just as they began to stir awake.
A pain in their ribs was the overwhelming factor to them finally coming around. When they groggily opened their eyes, they were paralised with fear due to the scene in front of them.
A doll sat a few feet ahead, perched upon a tricycle. Adorned with a black suit and a red bowtie. A slow red light flashed in his eyes.
Billy.
Before the subject could even register how, when or why they found themselves trapped in a test, footsteps echoed behind them. The subject called out, “Help! Please, somebody help! I shouldn’t be here!”
A tsk reached their ears, as a disembodied voice replied, “Trust me, no one can hear you. Scream all you like. You’d just be wasting your breath, you may as well cherish it before it's gone.”
With hairs stood on end, the subject stilled. “What do you want from me?”
“I don’t want anything from you.” The man's footsteps grew louder. “I’m here to serve justice, that’s all.”
The man rounded the subject, settling in their view with only his cloaked back visible while he tended to the little doll. He touched Billy delicately—like he was a little child that he loved dearly. He combed his gloved hand through the doll's black hair and eventually pulled his fingers from the tresses to pat his head gently.
“You fucking psycho! Let me go!”
He couldn’t help but laugh at that which only infuriated the subject more causing them to shake in anger, a movement they soon ceased when they realised something was penetrating their ribs.
“I’d be very careful if I was you, we wouldn’t want you hurting yourself now… would we?” The cloaked figure spun around. An angry glint to his eye.
“What the fuck, you’re fucking crazy. Let me out, this isn’t right!” The subject tried their hardest to swing their legs, to somehow kick the man who’d imprisoned them.
“I think you’ll find it is right. You’re unworthy of the body you possess.” He inched closer, “see, when someone purposely intends to harm others, they lose their right to life.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
The man arched a brow as he replied, “Don’t play dumb. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” He felt like it was a game of cat and mouse except, he was a tiger and his subject, was the tiniest prey to mankind. “But, let me remind you! Since you can’t get your thick fucking head to work. You’re a liar, a cheater and an abuser. That ring any bells?”
The subject's face dropped.
“Ah, I see by your expression you know exactly what I’m talking about! Glad to see we’re on the same page.” He shrugged his cloak off placing it to the side of the doll. “I want to play a game.”
“What game? This isn’t a fucking game! You’re sick in the head you fucking cunt!”
The atmosphere shifted, the man remained calm while the subject went ballistic.
“What is this? What fucking game?”
“You feel the machine that’s currently occupying your ribs? Well, in about ten minutes that’s going to rip you apart. I’m proud to say that trap is my baby. I’ve been working on it especially for you! How nice is that?” he reached out to tug at the subject’s legs, tormenting them like a cat would a mouse. “Anyway, as my beautiful angel trap will rip you apart, my darling little friend Billy over here,” the subject followed the direction the man's hand pointed, “is going to match your face with the ugliness of your soul.”
“Fuck, fuck this! How do I stop it? Tell me how I fucking stop it!”
A boxy grin overtook the man's face, laughter poured from his mouth as he leaned over and slapped the subject’s leg. “This is a special game.”
“Who are you? What do you mean by ‘special game’?”
He raised himself so he stood tall and grabbed a knife from his pocket, “I’m the man you call Jigsaw.” He traced the tip of the knife along the subject’s ankle, “and when I say a special game… I mean you can’t get out.” While the subject was screaming in realisation, Taehyung walked back for his cloak, hung it over his shoulder and stalked off back the way he came. He sent one last smile to the subject as he rounded them and within the blink of an eye, he gripped the knife and slashed the subject’s achilles.
A chilling scream pierced the eerie atmosphere, the subject couldn’t string words together. Abundances of anxiety, terror and pure panic took reign of their body. Taehyung grabbed the injured muscles and forced his gloved fingers in as he gripped and twisted them, “That’s for Y/N.”
Taehyung had pressed the timer before he cut the subject’s tendons. He grabbed the tape from his pocket and threw it on the ground and with a chuckle he shouted, “Game over!”
Before he reached the end of the hallway, he heard the gunshots pierce his subjects face followed by the sound of the angel trap, even this far away Taehyung heard every crack of the ribs and the noise of the body being tore apart.
Without looking back, Taehyung rounded the corner and slammed the door shut.
He’d chosen the Angel trap for the irony, the subject that was currently hanging from the ceiling was no angel. They were a fucked up, evil, waste of space. Taehyung had done the world a favour, he’d done you a favour.
That got him thinking, how much blood would you shed in order to stay alive?
[a/n: who do we think was in the trap???👀]
#yandere taehyung#bts horror#dark bts#yandere bts#mafia bts#kim taehyung au#kim taehyung mafia#taehyung x reader#taehyung angst#bts angst#taehyung x you#kim taehyung x reader#yandere jin#yandere hoseok#yandere yoongi#yandere namjoon#yandere jungkook#yandere bts x reader#yandere au#bts fic#billyjigsaw!taehyung#john kramer!taehyung#billy kth au#un2verse#bts mafia au#taehyung scenarios#kim taehyung scenario#bts horror au
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Yandere red hood with an Christmas angel/ghost s/o? A twits on the Christmas carol story? Please
Christmas Carol: Yandere Jason Todd
I had to read the story's summary on Wikipedia for this. Literally jeopardising my studies for this. :')
Check out my MASTERLIST for more!
Yandere Jason Todd:
Jason doesn't know when he saw you. Was it when he was dying? Or when he was dead? Or when he was in Lazarus pit, coming back from the dead? He knows, he knew even when you visited him in his "dreams", that its not real. That you weren't actually there with him when he saw it all. The past, the present, the future. But what he experienced during this period was eye opening for him.
In his "vision", he was visited by you. Or something that looked like you. You had a bright glow around your body. He thinks there might have been a halo too but he's not sure. All he remembers is that you looked holy. Like an angel. You walked towards his bloody body, and you caressed his cheek, and all the pain disappeared. "(Y/n)? What- what are you doing here?" With a soft smile, you said to him "its okay. I'm here to help you." "What? You need to get out of here, (Y/n)-" but you cut him off, "come with me Jason." A bright light flashed before his eyes and suddenly he was outside a cafe. Jason was perplexed. How the hell did he get here? And where is he? The latter question was soon answered when you appeared by his side, a calm smile gracing your face. "Do you remember how we met?" He followed your gaze, looking inside the cafe. There you were, looking as dead as possible with a customer screaming in your face. And then he, or well past he, walked in the cafe and saw the commotion. Jason butted in and intimidated the customer, making him leave the cafe. You smiled and thanked Jason, giving him his coffee on the house. And just like that, you guys became friends. He would frequent your workplace a lot at first, making you laugh with his corny jokes. You were a cool friend, in Jason's eyes. A sweet girl really. Your friendship became even stronger when you found out that he was Red Hood and promised to keep that information to yourself.
The scene changed before his eyes as another flash of white occurred; now he was in your apartment. Jason looked around your apartment, and located you when you came out of your bedroom. Opening the lounge window, you let a dark figure in. It was him again. You had allowed Jason to let himself in your apartment during his patrols for some coffee breaks. You were a great barista. You and his past self were talking about random stuff, as you guys usually would. "Do you remember what happened that day?"your angelic form appeared beside him. What happened? Jason looked at the scene in front of him. You were laughing at his jokes again, his past self was looking at you with pure adoration in his eyes. Jason remembers now. He stepped forward to stop his past self but you called him back. "They can't see us Jason" you replied. And so, Jason had to relive the embarrassing moment again. He confessed his feelings for you that day. He thought you felt the same way, but you didn't. You turned him down, as politely as you could. He was a little hurt but he didn't take it to heart. And you were glad for that. You didn't want to lose a good friend and neither did he. So you both continued on with life as if that night never happened.
As Jason wondered why you were showing him his past and whether he was really dead, a bright flash came again. This time he was again in your apartment, but it was all dark. He could hear sobs coming from your bedroom. Panicked, he hurried in there, and the sight broke him.
There you were on your bed, crying yourself out. Your eyes were all red, lips all wobbly, your face flushed and puffy. Your pillow damp with your tears, as your body racked with your sobs. You were having trouble breathing. Taking in little breaths before you continued crying. His heart clenched in pain. A phone in your hands as you stared at your screen. Why were you crying? Jason moved to see what was on your phone, ready to beat up whoever put you in this state. It was him. You were looking at pictures of him. You played a video of you both laughing and talking about random stuff. Was he- was he really dead? This time, Jason didn't even have to look away from you before angel you came beside him. He fisted his hands in anger. "Why am I here?" You sighed, resting your head on his shoulder. "I'm just trying to help you. Look at her. What your absence has done to her. Your death has caused this, Jason." You confirmed his suspicions. This was the present. And he really was dead. "Take me back. I don't want to be here anymore."he whispered. "Just one more stop." You told him, before yet another blinding flash occurred.
This time he was on a street. Looking around, he knew this was the bad part of town. He hoped you weren't wandering around here. And that's when he heard it. Your scream. It came from the old warehouse in front of him. He dashed towards it, anxiety and fear kicking in as to what he was about to witness. He heard him before he saw him. His laugh. Joker was here. With you. As he bashed through the doors, he wished he could gouge his own eyes out. There you laid on the floor. Your body bearing witness to the torture you had been put through, body violated in all ways possible. Joker was...mutilating you now. He was now cutting your legs off. And you were both screaming and laughing. Your eyes full of tears as you howled in laughter. He must've tortured you mentally. Jason tried to stop him. He tried to get Joker off you, but his body just went through. Jason felt like he stopped breathing. Suddenly, you turned your bloodied head towards him, looking him straight in the eyes. A scared look appeared on your face. Like a little girl. "Jason." You whispered, reaching out for him with your hand, before you stopped breathing, arm falling down. Your eyes were empty. Time had stopped. Jason didn't realise he was crying until you, or angel you came to him and wiped them. "She's dead?"Jason barely managed to whisper. You shook your head, "she will be. This happens in her future. A future without you. She doesn't have anyone to protect her. You need to be there for her Jason." "But I did. She doesnt want to be with me-" Jason replied but then you interrupted him. "Then look what happened to her. She needs you. You need to make her realise that she needs you. Do whatever you must in order to protect her. Save her from this fate, Jason. Or be prepared to see her lifeless eyes again." Jason looked at you. Something snapped in mind when he looked at your dead body. But your words delivered the final blow. You can't be dead. You need to be saved from this filthy world. He'd rather die again then let anything ever to you. "Do you understand, Jason?" Jason's eyes hardened, an unreadable expression on his face. "I understand. Take me back."
And then Jason woke up in Lazarus pit. He had been resurrected. But his main concern was you. As soon as he was healed enough, Jason went to look for you. Turns out you had left the city. You were still alive and that's all that mattered.
It was Christmas by the time Jason had found you. He was in your apartment, waiting for you. You had gone to a friends Christmas party. Jason snooped around your bedroom, collecting all the stuff you'll be needing when you'll live with him.
Of course he was going to take you. You need to be protected. He can't let his nightmare come true. He'd rather die.
You still had a framed picture of you and him by your bedside table. Once Jason heard the door knob jingle, he hid himself in the shadows of your room. You entered your room, still on cloud 9 from the party to notice Jason. As per routine, you said "hey Jason."to the picture frame on your table. Precious. Jason moved out of the shadows, before saying "hey princess".
My fav boy. Anyways, hope you guys liked this. Requests are OPEN but, BUT, my inbox is full of deathnote requests and I will write them, but alternating them with other fandom requests. So send requests for fandoms other than deathnote. :)
#yandere jason todd#jason todd x reader#yandere jason todd x reader#yandere dc#red hood x reader#yandere batman#yandere batboys#yandere batfamily
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Welcome, dear readers, to part 1 of the finale to the BackupKingdom2 saga! We’re in our final ambition now, let’s check how Liz’s post-divorce-bloodbath is going..
Oh yes, excellent. Our path to death-achievement-glory has been paved with so many executions that wherever I look I see npcs crying..
..comforting each other..
..and in Agnes' case, coming straight to Liz to.. ask for mercy for the populace I guess?? Bruh. I can't believe we even brought down AGNES, truly this is the saddest kingdom on earth. Amazing job, Liz, you've definitely earned your place in the tyrant hall of fame!
Now a lesser player would be like "oh, maybe we should chill a little on the insane tyrant thing, finish the Pirate/Noble arc cause we've been dragging this war out so the pirates/guildsmen would keep spawning and it should have ended like 20 quests ago" and true, we could just end it, we ran a very effective operation around here, shoutout to MVPs Donius and Bellinda and their 'seductive' legendary traits:
They bedded them and Liz beheaded them, the power of teamwork! So one could say that we should consider raising kingdom morale now because everyone is so depressed but I think, if anything, now is the time to ramp it up and go for some of the other morally questionable achievements! Like Machiavelli said, you should commit all your atrocities at once! What do you think, Liz? Ready to get atrocious?
-OH FUCK YEA, I’M ENRAGED, I DROPPED MY FIDDLE IN THE PIT AND NOW I HAVE TO WAIT FOR THE SERVANT TO GET ME A NEW ONE!! WHY DOES EVERYTHING ALWAYS HAPPEN TO ME >:(
Aw I’m sorry Liz, but I’m sure you the upcoming suffering of your subjects will cheer you up!
-Ok motherfuckers, by order of the Crown aka ME -you hear that Rae?? ME, NOT YOU. God I want to execute you so bad, fucking ingrate, do you remember what rags you were wearing when I hired you??
Let’s get this back on track, Liz.
-Right, so by order of the Crown, Magus Olivia and Spymaster Spainot are given COMPLETE LEGAL IMMUNITY to do whatever the fuck they want in the interest of earning achievements, so don’t you people come crying to me cause I don’t give one tiny chinchilla crap about your health and livelihoods. If you need me for something actually important, I'll be at the gates, executing anyone who doesn't like my fiddle playing.
-Oh man, this folksy peasant hat isn’t protecting my ears enough.
-THOUGHT I WOULDN’T HEAR YOUR LITTLE MURMUR, DID YOU -YOUR MAJESTY NO I ONLY MEANT MY EARS WERE COLD -WELL ALL OF YOUR BODY’S ABOUT TO BE COLD NOW! CONSTABLE, THROW THIS PEASANT IN THE PIT
-Death marker? I hardly know 'er!
So the Constable npc has this little Billy Elliot subplot going, I'm pretty sure he has the 'drunkard' fatal flaw because he was always at the tavern so I had Bellinda try to hire him to perform in one of her plays just to see what would happen and it actually worked, and now he moonlights as an actor! It's cute but it also takes forever for him to come arrest people.
-THEY LOVE ME ❤️😁 -CONSTABLE WHATSYOURNAME, COME OVER HERE AND DO YOUR FUCKING JOB OR YOU'RE NEXT FOR THE PIT
-No one knows what it's like to be the bad man, to be the sad man, when someone dies😢
In the background you can see that Bellinda just got a pregnancy bump, it’s her lovechild with Donius, I for real can’t keep these two apart. Anyway, the time has come..
..to unleash Magus Olivia onto the populace.
-You know what, I'd rather not, this book is finally getting good and I'm sick of cursing peasants, it doesn't even drop their mood that much..
Oh no, Olivia my beloved, we're not cursing them, we're going for the 'Well Done' achievement!
-NO WAY.
WAY.
-Won't I be executed??
You have immunity! You can do whatever you want!! And, AND, once you complete it, because I know it's tiring, I'll give you a magic skeletal parrot as a gift!! Edward got all the materials for it while treasure-hunting, you'd think I'd let him keep it but that's not the kind of shop I'm running here.
-This is my face of pure, childlike happiness!
Good lord, it’s terrifying, please don’t look at me like that.
-Alright, time to roll down my sleeves so they look more sinister and do this thing.
You can do it, Olivia!
-Of course I can, save your reassurance for the flops that need it.
-I.. cast.. INFERNO!
...
-What?
I mean really, those are the words, "I cast inferno"? Can't you say something with more evil magical flair?
-Not when I have to cast it 80 fucking times I can't.
-IT BURNS, IT BURNSSSSS
Oh how the tables have turned, usually it's the witch that gets burned, huhu! Did you hear that, Olivia? Did you like my joke??
-Oh, it's beautiful!
Well it wasn't one of my best-
-Not you, you needy moron, the sight of burning flesh! I can't wait to do this 79 more times!
Alright, so everyone in the tavern has been turned into a chicken nugget, time to get some rest and check in with Spainot!
-Amazing news, Rodolfo, I just got royal permission to unlawfully lock up and interrogate whoever I want for the achievements!!!
-Darling, no offense, but aren't you a bit too shit at your job for that? -WHAT????
-FUCK YOU RODOLFO YOU'RE JUST JEALOUS OF MY SUCCESS -I WISH I WAS JEALOUS OF YOUR SUCCESS, THEN YOU'D BE SUCCESSFUL AND I WOULDN'T BE MARRIED TO A BROKE LOSER
-And then he says the only reason he hasn't dumped me is he doesn't wanna be a rando npc while Batshit Liz is on an execution spree, can you believe this bullshit? How can anyone be so hurtful??
-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA NO NO PLEASE DON'T HAVE THIS CHINCHILLA MAUL ME I'LL GIVE YOU WHATEVER YOU WANT
-How about you give me some marital advice, are you even listening?! Ugh.
That's right, while Olivia is inferno-ing the peasants, I've sicced Spainot on the nobility, specifically all those foreign diplomats that are always hanging in the reception hall, lagging up the place. We're going for the 100 interrogations achievement and we’ve installed a nice spiky torture chair right in the middle of the hall to save time! Now this is how we keep every stratum of society terrified enough to not realize that the person in charge is.. uh.. well you know:
-DANCE TO MY FIDDLE, PIRATE, DANCE!
-I AM!!!!!
-DANCE MORE ENTHUSIASTICALLY. ALL THE WAY TO THE PIT
After a couple days and several locations I feel we’re pretty close to 80 infernos!
I’d say we’ve burned a good 50-60% of the population at this point, everywhere I look I see singed townies-
-so we take this little barbecue to the palace because we’ve ran out of peasants and it’s time to start burning the foreign dignitaries. And it’s a good thing we do, because Olivia meets Nyrexis the Dragon!!!!
Nyrexis is the human form of the dragon from a hilar quest where there’s a dragon in the kingdom and you can either befriend it or slay it, I had Bellinda befriend it:
So if you complete the befriend route of the quest, the human form of the dragon appears in town and is in love with whoever did the quest, in this case Bellinda. I am of course not about to waste Dragonfu on Bellinda’s basic ass, plus I feel Olivia is kind of a dragon with all the people she’s been burning so they have a lot in common!
We dazzle Dragonfu with a coin trick! True magic at work.
-OMG IT WAS BEHIND MY EAR THE WHOLE TIME -I KNOW!
Good God, all of Olivia’s ‘happy’ expressions are terrifying, just don’t smile ever again, you’re too evil for it, you’re gonna scare the dragon away!
Or not!!!!
AWWWWW 🐲❤️🔮
You know what, fuck it, let’s lock it down, when it’s right it’s right!
-Burn stuff with me forever?? -I WILL!!!!
-We are gathered here today, under threat of fiery death, to join two unholy abominations in holy matrimony. Yes, the irony is not lost on me.
AW CONGRATS GUYS <3333 The wizard tower is so small and family un-friendly and Olivia is so unmaternal but come on, like I’m not gonna have her reproduce with a fucking dragon.
Back to Spainot, we’ve hit a slight bump, mainly that this Snordwich lord is proving fucking impossible to torture.
-Um.. Are you enjoying this??? -Sure am, bad boy, but why don’t we take this somewhere more private already?
Wtf, stop sexually harassing the innocent person who’s torturing you! Does no one around here have any sense of humanity anymore??
-Come on, Spainot, throw some flesh-eating rodents at him! -I’M BUILDING UP TO IT, RAE, GAWD. No one likes a back-seat torturer!
-HA, who’s the loser now, Rodolfo? Rodolfo?? RODOLFO
Ya Spai I don’t know how to tell you this, but I’m pretty sure he left while you were interrogating, I haven’t seen him in like 3 days.
-WHAT. So Olivia completes one achievement and gets a dragon wife and a magic skeletal bird and I complete three and get dumped?!
Well what do you want from me, I don’t make the rules!
-YES YOU DO
Can we move on, please? And Olivia had a very rough go of it-
-she got burned in some rando quest and looked positively karma-stricken after, inferno-ing left and right while sporting this look! She deserves a magic bird!
Congrats on your success and 4 kids, Olivia!
-I love this skeleton bird more than I thought it possible to ever love something.
-Gee, thanks mom.
We had leftover bones so here, Spainot, you get a magic bird too.
-A bone parrot is little comfort when you’ve lost the only bone that matters! Why Rodolfo, whyyyyy!!!!!!!!!
Oh I don’t know, probably because you challenged him to duels 3 times a day?
-No, that can’t be it.
Correct me if I’m wrong, but you look like a man who has nothing to live for?
-Yea, I certainly don’t.
So you wouldn’t mind like, jumping into the pit multiple times so you can get the parts we need for the hardest achievement in game aka Legendary Doomsword?
-Rodolfo had one of those too, it was legendary and now that it’s gone I’m doomed!!!
Ok ya ENOUGH metaphors about Rodolfo’s absent penis, although they really are writing themselves. We’ll get him back! If you survive all the pit jumping that is. Join us next time for part 2: Legendary Doomsword!
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It has been a few months, six to be exact, but I wanted to revisit Tommy when he was locked in the prison.
A lot has happened since then, and I think the reminder of this would be nice since these moments affected Tommy so deeply, and watching streams over again can be time-consuming.
This analysis and summary will be split into three parts. The first three parts will be an analysis and summary of Tommy’s time in the prison, from pre-entrance to revival. From here on out, I will be discussing the characters on the SMP unless stated otherwise. Dialogue is color-coded: Tommy, Dream. So, let’s begin!
Stream: Tommy Gets Locked In Prison with Dream
The stream opens up with Tommy telling us, the audience, that this will be our last time visiting Dream. He wants to visit Dream one last time in order to gain closure. Tommy acknowledges that he has been, in his own words, “tortured” and “tormented” by Dream. Though Dream is locked up, Tommy is still anxious.
“Why am I still feeling like this? Why am I still feeling, you know, fuckin, miserable, I suppose. I’ve got my hotel, I’ve got my buis- I still feel kinda- a little bit low. A little bit empty. I think, I think it’s because I haven’t shut the book. He’s still in my life, you know.”
All of this confirms the fact that Tommy has yet to heal from Dream’s abuse. He is aware that he is safe and has everything he’s wanted, yet still feels unhappy. This also confirms that Tommy wants to heal and move on. He is making the conscious decision to do so.
“I wanna start living my life, because I haven’t lived my life since the start of this SMP! … it’s just been war after war, death after death, friend dead after friend! Death, you know? It’s been, dare I say, it’s been fuckin morbid! But um, he’s been the reason.”
This is further confirmation of Tommy’s thought process. He is aware that his life has always been busy in some way, and that conflict has always boiled down to him and Dream. It is important to note that he does not blame anyone else for his troubles except Dream. He does not blame Wilbur for L’manberg’s destruction, Philza for Wilbur’s death, or Technoblade for Tubbo’s death. For Tommy, it has always been him and Dream no matter what.
As Tommy goes over the required questions with Sam, he says that Dream does deserve to be in prison, but does not deserve to die. When Sam asks what Tommy’s prior relationship with the prisoner was like, Tommy immediately yells, calling Dream a wrongen. However, his demeanor changes quickly. He says that they manipulated one another, and that Dream manipulated him. This is interesting because Tommy is aware that Dream hurt him, but he does not exactly know how he fits into it. Tommy has not manipulated Dream. Tommy does not and did not have the power to do that. Tommy has a hard time understanding his relationship with Dream, which is something we will continue to see as the stream progresses.
While Tommy puts his items in the locker, he apologizes for his nervousness and asks if it’s obvious. This is also something Tommy does frequently; he apologizes for his emotions regardless of the situation. Tommy has good reason to be nervous, and Sam even asks if Tommy really wants to visit Dream. Sam is not annoyed by Tommy, so he has no real reason to apologize. Tommy has a hard time letting his guard down around people he likes and feels the need to apologize for his emotions.
As Sam and Tommy make their way through the prison, Tommy thanks Sam for doing his job and looking out for him. After being genuine with Sam, Tommy is frustrated when he doesn’t respond, despite being aware of the fact that Sam puts on a face while doing his job. Tommy does not like being ignored, but quickly moves on to once again explain that he does not want to visit the prison again after this. He specifically notes that blackstone is triggering to him, which is another thing to add to his already long trigger list. He also asks Sam to promise that Dream will be locked up forever. Once Sam confirms this, Tommy calms down. He says he would have no reason to visit Dream again unless one of his friends died. As Tommy blabbers on and on, Sam does a good job of being directional toward Tommy, telling him exactly what he needs to do. This is a good thing because it gives Tommy a specific task to complete, and does not give him time to panic. As Tommy waits for the lava to lower, he says this,
“I wanna make sure I always like who I am, and, you know, around this guy, I don’t think I do. I don’t think I like who I am around Dream. Let’s close the book.”
This is very important because it helps establish Tommy’s relationship with Dream for the audience. Tommy very clearly does not like Dream and does not like the kind of person he is while around him (hurt, afraid, confused, quick to anger). Dream, on the other hand, does not feel this way. He wants to be around Tommy. He wants to hurt Tommy. Dream sees this as fun, while Tommy does not. This is something we will also continue to see as the stream goes on.
This is minor, but I think it’s important to note, as it’s part of how cc!Tommy plays his character: As Tommy and Dream greet one another, Dream says that he lost his clock. Tommy jokes that if you remove the “L” a new word is created, and Tommy smiles. In response, Dream says, “That’s the Tommy I know.” Tommy’s face immediately drops after Dream says this; this feeds into Tommy’s dislike for himself around Dream.
Dream attempts to make conversation, saying that he wishes Tommy would visit more, but Tommy ignores this to explain that this is his last time visiting Dream. Dream tries to make Tommy second guess himself by saying that forever is a “long time.” Tommy pauses before speaking again. Something important to be aware of is that Tommy is very susceptible to Dream’s manipulation, especially now. In this situation. There is no escape. It is just him, Dream, and the lava. There is no one to break up any disagreement they have. There is no one here to stop Dream. And because Tommy is so anxious, he is an easy target. Tommy does try to combat this by being direct with Dream. He refuses to answer Dream outright as of now, and instead just tries to get his point across.
At this point in the stream, it crashes, but right before, Tommy explains to Dream that if there is anything he wants to say, he has to say it now, because Tommy won’t be coming back. Dream responds to this with a confused “why?” Dream cannot think of even a single reason why Tommy would never want to see him again, which plays into the fact that Dream believes that his relationship with Tommy is fun. It also shows that Dream thinks this relationship is mutual; Dream believes that Tommy feels the same way about him, which is not true.
After fixing some stream problems, Dream talks about possibly getting out one day. Tommy immediately denies this and stops Dream from talking about it any further. Here, Tommy is trying to keep some sort of power in the situation. He is trying to keep an even temper, but this doesn’t last very long once Tommy brings up exile.
“What you’re doing now, this is like exile. Do you remember that? Do you remember ex- I don’t know how much you remember with all these tears n shit, this is, this is like exile, man. I don’t- I don’t wanna know you-” “I mean, exile, it wasn’t, it wasn’t too bad, right? I mean, you still, you had, you know, like, we hung out and stuff.” “I fu- You fu- You fuck- You bastard, Dream! You threw my shit into a hole! I can’t go near plains biomes now without getting a little trembly in the fingers! You- Yeah no, it was fucked, you’re fucked!”
Here, Tommy is aware that he is not in power. He knows that he lacks control in this situation, especially because he is emotional. Comparing this to exile shows that this is what Tommy bases his opinions of Dream on, and this is where most of Tommy’s fears come from. This also shows that Dream has no sense of the severity of exile, despite the fact that he carried out the abuse. Dream describes it as them just hanging out, which, again, shows that Dream thinks his relationship with Tommy is fun. He does not think that what he did was abuse, despite Tommy’s clear indication that it was. He doesn’t think that it was too bad despite the fact that he cannot come up with any reason why it wasn’t bad. He does not complete his sentences because he cannot think of anything good. In order to gain the upper hand again, Tommy asks about the books he wanted Dream to write last time, but we quickly move on from that to this:
“Listen, when I’m around you, my brain feels like I’m conditioned to be your friend, but also when I have a knife, I wanna just plunge it into your heart, and it’s like I don’t- you don’t make me a good person.”
This, again, shows Tommy’s conflicting feelings toward Dream. Tommy is very aware that he doesn’t like Dream and is not the person he wants to be while around Dream. However, he still feels inclined to be his friend. Tommy is aware that he is being manipulated, as shown by the word “conditioned” here; he knows that he does not actually want to be Dream’s friend. Tommy just does not know how to make this feeling stop. What Tommy does know is that Dream has ruined everything for him, and he does not want to see Dream ever again. Tommy goes on about how Dream is horrible, specifically calling him out for almost killing Tubbo. In response, we get this:
“I did bad things but- Everybody thinks they’re right from their perspective-” “That’s not true.” “Wow. I mean, I think I’m right. I did bad things, but I did them for good reasons but-" “What do you mean ‘good reasons’ you’re a psychopath-” "but I’ve learned. I did bad things. And I’ve learned that I shouldn’t have done them." “What good reasons? No, please, enlighten us, please, enlighten me-” "I just wanted to bring the server together, have it be a happy family, you know?”
And this, my friends, is a lovely example of Dream’s mindset and ability to manipulate. Dream repeats that he has learned from what he’s done, but that is not true. He tries more than once to excuse his actions by saying that everyone is right from their own perspective and that he was doing bad things for good reason. He does this in an effort to make Tommy think he’s not that bad and can be either let out or revisited. This also proves that he hasn’t learned at all, because if he truly did learn, he would acknowledge exactly what was wrong with his actions. He would’ve apologized to Tommy a long time ago if he really believed that what he did was wrong. Tommy immediately disagrees with Dream’s points, which, again, shows that Tommy and Dream do not have the same mindset, despite what Dream believes. I think the most important thing to take note of is the “happy family” bit, which has been dragged through hell in back in discourse posts. In order to bring the server together to create a happy family, all of the members would have to be involved, and all of them would have to be happy. Based on Dream’s actions, he doesn’t actually want this. Abusing people does not make them happy. Threatening to kill others does not make them happy. Leaving your friends behind in pursuit of your obsession does not make them happy. In Dream’s mind, a “big happy family” is one that he can do anything to without repercussions, which is something Tommy calls out. Later, he says,
“I am better than that. I am better than you. I am done here. You ruined my past, Dream, but you will not ruin my future.”
Other than this being a banger line, this basically sums up everything Tommy wanted to accomplish with this visit. Dream tries to make Tommy second guess himself by asking him to visit, and saying that Tommy visiting would help him get better. Thankfully, Tommy knows that it’s not true, and refuses. But because we can’t have good things around here, right after Tommy says goodbye, TNT starts to go off, and Tommy starts to yell for Sam and panics. Dream does not have much of a reaction to the explosions. Tommy once again tries to bid Dream farewell, saying “It has been an honor knowing you, but it will be an honor forgetting you.” but is quickly distracted by more TNT. As more TNT rains down, Tommy grabs the item frame off the wall to use as a potential weapon. Eventually, Tommy asks Dream to let him out, which signals to Dream that Tommy is in a vulnerable state. Dream capitalizes on this by saying that Tommy might be stuck with him for a while. As they argue over not knowing any better than the other, Tommy doesn’t believe that Dream doesn’t know anything about the TNT.
Eventually, Dream says that this is a good thing and that they can bond. He remarks that this is just like exile, and Tommy immediately begins to curse at and hit him. Tommy continues to hit Dream and pace all panicked, and it only gets worse when Dream says that this is the best thing that has ever happened to him in the prison. Dream tries repeatedly to give Tommy food and books, but he refuses them. Eventually, though, he eats the food. As the two argue some more, Dream says that they will have a lot of fun together. This, again, shows that Dream has a warped perception of what “fun” is, and does not see any reason for Tommy to panic. And to end it all, Tommy says, “I was about to be done.” as he realizes that there is nothing he can do.
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Chosen Couple (Part 3)
Peter Parker x Reader (The reader is an Avenger)
Summary- Peter and you have a movie night to celebrate the school year ending, but the night takes an unexpected turn. Suddenly, you wish you had never even gone to Peter’s house in the first place.
Warnings- Pretty bad angst, but then again, it’s my first time writing it, so I am open to comments and suggestions on how to improve it.
Posted: April 26, 2021
Word Count- 2.3k
Part 1 and Part 2
Feeling your face heat up, you read the card again and again. Could it be for you? Could Peter like you back? But you got your answer quite quickly.
“What are you doing?!” Peter asked, dashing to you, webbing the box shut.
“Uh, just checking out what was in the box…” you said, crossing your fingers behind your back. “Who’s it for Peter?”
He stared at you, and for a second, you thought he was going to say your name, tell you that he liked you back, tell you that he wanted to be more than friends. But it all went down the drain, and your heart sunk to your stomach when he blurted out. “MJ!”
“MJ?” you asked, feeling pieces of your heart tear into two. Peter looked shocked at what he said, eyebrows furrowed at the slight shake in your voice. But he couldn’t take it back now, could he?
“Y-yeah...uh, I.. um, like MJ, and I told Mr Stark the other day, and he helped me buy these things for yo-her”, he said, stuttering lightly. Maybe if you had paid attention, you would have seen the slight look of desperation on his face, but you were too busy trying to keep a neutral face.
“You told Tony before you told me?” you asked randomly, trying to mask the pain in your voice.
Again, Peter looked crestfallen, looking at the ground before nodding. “You know, because MJ is your best friend, and I thought that if you knew, you might tell her and she might reject me before I even could tell her how I feel” As Peter went on with the sentence, you could see his eyes start to shine a bit, and the small ball in your throat started to grow bigger, almost choking you.
You could feel a slight tingling in your stomach and hands, meaning your powers were beginning to become stronger. It usually happened when you were angry, but now, it made sense that it showed up whenever strong feelings were blowing up your mind. Numbly nodding, you picked up the beautiful copy of the book he had gotten her, now understanding.
You weren’t the only one who liked the book. MJ loved it as well. A couple of weeks ago, you two were chatting about it in the cafeteria, laughing and joking around, and then Peter had shown up, pulling you aside to ask you what was the title of the book that had you enamoured. Well, which had MJ enchanted. Putting it back down, you gulped, forcing a smile on your face. The air was uncomfortable for a couple of minutes, neither of you saying anything. Peter kept staring at the ground while you were blinking rapidly, trying to have a weak attempt at keeping the flow of tears threatening to burst out. Just as you were about to leave from the high tension, open the door and leave, the lights flickered back one by one, the TV’s sounds filling the room again.
“Um, do you want to finish movie night?” Peter’s voice asked from behind you, making you hesitate. You had two choices. You could either go home and cry under the comfort of your bed and then rant to Nat and Wanda about your conundrum, or you could suck it up and endure few more hours of torture, knowing that the last four years of your life spent on loving you best friend would be in vain…. See, you had never taken the easy way out in anything.
So you nodded at him, not saying a word as you slowly walked back to the sofa where you were just about to confess your feelings. Not even touching the blanket, on you and Peter earlier, you pulled your feet up, hugging your knees. Peter sat from across you, reaching out his hand as he might touch you but then pulling it back. You could hardly pay attention to the movie, which was probably the sixth one.
Instead, you focused on the clock, watching the minutes tick by slowly. Second by second. You knew him long enough to see that he wasn’t paying attention either. Any time you spared him a glance, he seemed far away, glassy-eyed and lost in thought. Just as the movie was ending, Peter asked out loud, his voice sharp and brittle.
“Why are you so weird?”
Looking at him properly for the first time since you opened the box, you were speechless. Why were you weird? Maybe because you thought you and Peter were close enough to share little things like crushes. Maybe you were mad that he could trust you with his life on the battlefield but not with his high school crush. Maybe you were furious that he went to Tony for help. Maybe because you thought that he and you were closer than him and Tony. Maybe because you were angry that he couldn’t just suck it up and tell you that he liked MJ. Perhaps because you liked him like he liked MJ, and just maybe because you thought that he wanted you like he liked MJ...
But you couldn’t tell that to him, so you just said back in an emotionless voice. “I’m not weird at all. Why do you think I’m weird?”
Not expecting you to beat around the bush, he answered back, hints of a frown showing up on his face. “Well, you haven’t said anything since I told you I liked MJ. Do you have some type of problem with her?” As soon as he finished, his face contorted into a frown as if he was in pain.
Shocked that he would even ask that, you shot back. “I don’t have any problem with MJ. Hell, she is my best friend. I just want to know why you didn’t tell me about this simple secret?”
He spat, answering me back as he stood up, towering over me. “What’s your problem?! Just cause I don’t tell you about my crush? Oh, and by the way, it’s not a simple little secret. I’ve loved her for years!” His jaw clenched lightly, slowly looking you in the eyes.
Shaking your head, you stood up, now standing the same height as him. “I’m don’t have a problem with anything. I just thought that you- uh…-”, gulping softly, you gaped at him, “Peter, why are you acting like this?”
Breathing heavily now, he glared at you, hate in his eyes, mixed with something you couldn’t make out. “Why are you acting like my mother Y/N?!”
“What the hell Parker? I could’ve helped you out. We’ve always done these things together”, you said, pushing out the words. Your stomach twisted as you said you would help him, curling with envy and jealously towards MJ.
“Oh yeah? Like how you asked for my help with Brad?”
Exasperated, you threw your hands up, light lavender light starting to show from your fingertips. “What is it with you and Brad? He’s a great guy!”
“Uh-huh, and that’s why you thanked me for launching you out of that problematic date of yours, right?”
Starting to feel tired and feeling the weight of your fight beginning to fall on you, you just gazed at him, trying to figure out why his face was red. “Is it because of the movie? Or the exams?”
“Y/N, I don’t know why you can’t just-”, going to sighed, hands running through his curls. The only time you had seen him this broken was when Tony had taken away his suit and when you came with him to find the Vulture. You took a deep breath, moving back from the couch. This was the first time you and Peter had ever fought on something so minute. So irrelevant. Something so damn hard to swallow for you. Peter clicked his tongue and then called out, fire laced in his words.
“Well, maybe it is because of the movie. You keep saying that you like Harry and have spent your whole life loving him as a... character, but now, judging from your glances at the screen, Ron’s the one you want, don’t you?”His eyes narrowed into tiny slits as he spoke.
“Oh yeah, and why’s that?” you asked accusingly, folding your arms over your chest.
“I don’t know? Maybe because you just have bad taste in men!” he said, sneering at you. Not once, ever in the six years you had known Peter did you see him sneer at you. But this only fueled the anger deep within your chest.
“Well, in that case, you probably don’t even like Hermione so much. You would like someone like Ginny Weasley! You tried to stop, but you couldn’t as you went on, airing all of your problems out.
“Oh wait, and your right, I do like Ron better. It’s because Ron is tall and cute, part of sports teams and oh yeah, he gets all the girls. He has experience with a girl, and I think that’s what makes him more interesting than Harry!” you said, knowing that the topic had gone off the movie long ago.
Peter almost looked hurt for a couple of seconds as you spoke of ‘Ron’, but then he clenched his jaw, face hardening. “Well, your right then! Ginny is the perfect girl. I mean, her life is smooth and secure, with family and friends surrounding her. Not like Hermione, whose parents don’t even care about her, let alone anyone else.”
As soon as Peter finished, you could feel the anger draining out of you, replaced by a blinding pain in your chest. You could see Peter’s eyes widen in realisation, softening apologetically. Letting out a long breath, you stood up, not wanting to let him see the tears welling in your eyes. “Why would you say that?”, You asked as you let out all the pent up energy, stress and emotions you had been holding in for the evening in one go. Picking up your phone, you began walking to the door, ignoring Peter’s calls behind you.
“Y/N, I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry!” Peter said, calling out, his voice cracking towards the end. Gritting your teeth, you kept going. You were taught from a young age never to cry in public. You had kind of let that go with Peter, though. He was your best friend. You two used to talk about many things, about school, movies, family, friends. You had comforted Peter every year when his parent’s death anniversary came around. He was a shoulder to cry on when being an Avenger became just too much for you. But you had never cried because of Peter. Never but none because of your fight.
Oh, and coincidentally, that little piece of advice was given by your parents. Your parents who...left you. Almost forgot about you. Feeling a fresh new set of emotions burst through your mouth. Whirling backwards, you stared at Peter. He was standing in the middle of the hallway, almost hunched over under your vision. He glanced up at you, eyes bloodshot. “I’m sorry”, he whispered helplessly.
Dark purple light started emerging from you, making your hair stand up. You could feel your heartbeat get faster as you pushed out every last bit of hatred you could muster. Peter’s face was now reflecting the violet light, lip quivering ever so slightly.
“Why would you use my parents? You know how I-” Feeling a sob jump out of your throat, you collapsed on the floor, the purple ring around you flashing out before the apartment became as dark as before. Just as you fell, you felt Peter run over to you; arm’s circling you. You could feel his hair tickling your neck as he bought you closer.
“I didn’t mean it. Please…”, Peter said, holding you tight as his embrace. Wondering if you should push him back, you couldn’t be bothered. Instead, you hugged him back, letting yourself melt into him. You don’t know how long you stayed in that position, huddled near the door, both you and Peter trying to figure things out.
But at some point, when you were sure that you could stand up without becoming a bumbling mess of tears, you pulled away. Peter looked at you, eyes rimmed with red, cheeks puffy with his curls a mess. Sniffing, you stand up, not saying anything as you turn away, opening the door softly and looking back at him, your gaze diverting to the black box.
“Go give it to her Pete. I’m sure she would love it.”
And with that, you walked out the door, into the dark night, rain pelting on your head, but truthfully, you couldn’t care less at this point.
Damn, and I thought this would be a fun, fluffy piece, but it turned into something a bit more… Well, anyway, let’s see what happens next. Will Peter give MJ the box? Will Y/N ever even talk to Peter and MJ? Check it out in a few days when I put out the next part. Also, if you made it this far, maybe follow me to see some more short series and stories about our favourite spider boy :)
Part 1 and Part 2
Part 4
#peter parker x bestfriend reader#peter parker fluff#peter parker x reader imagine#avenger reader#avengers#tony stark#mj#spideychelle#angst#peter parker and y/n#peter parker angst
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how about ranking bucciarati's team?
regret to inform you that ur gonna get a very long answer bc i have passionate feelings about them all! also trish is in this bc she is part of the team and no one will tell me otherwise and will also include some rambling bc it is me and i have so many feelings towards these characters and none of them r cohesive
under the cut just in case (post writing yes it was long)
Giorno Giovanna:
way way more complex than ppl normally give him credit for (i will not go into feelings on how a majority of the fandom treats him unless ppl want me to then i will in fact make a very long ranty post and will not be stopped)
mildly op (esp at the beginning with how hes kind of able to just use his stand really well w no problems altho i think thats true of most of the jojos that we have seen animated?)
i am emotionally attached to him and want to give him a big hug
hes just a kinda goofy kid and is maybe a bit not good with figuring out hey this is a semi dangerous situation maybe i shouldnt be taunting him (leaky eye luca for example)
has the actual best theme
i love how he works off the rest of the team so well (even w members who do not like him)
is in my top 3 jojos i love this kid sm i would adopt him if he was real
7/10
Bruno Bucciarati:
the fucking way his character develops from licky man to best dad material is my favorite thing
his outfit is so so so good i would die to wear it
in general this man is one of my fave jojos characters and i get a lot of comfort from him
hes just really neat and has a good taste in music
he did his fucking best and i will always love him for that
imo the way that his death was drawn out was genuinely one of the most heartbreaking deaths in the entire series and fucks me up each time i think of it
i feel like he really is the one to hold the team together in a way that everyone feels cared for and saved
def has a savior complex tho for sure
dilf but im ace
also manga superiority bc he either makes the stupidest faces or looks very nice (anime has a lot of weird animation in regards to his face) and also because its lingerie there instead of a tattoo that changes thickness and placement every second
10/10
Leone Abbacchio:
guilty pleasure liking man
i am obsessed with his vibes and wish to become him
i cannot physically express just how much i love him but hes one of my faves of all time (not obvious by my theme at all wdym)
i miss his manga palette but also the colored manga isnt my beloved but also black lipstick abba
hot take maybe but anime abba looks better than manga minus the lipstick debacle
hes so so tall and i will steal his height in a nice way
his past man his past it fucks me up
his death fucks me up normally but when i was rewatching recently, i saw he gave this tiny lil smile after helping the kids get their ball and i could not take it anymore
him and brunos relationship (canonically and out of canon too) is one of my favorites in the series
also fandom hot take as i guess i am doing those for everyone- but ppl either have him as cosntantly trying to murder giorno or being like good son and v out of character, and it is really weird? not sayign that ill do better when i write them but also like im convinced some ppl havent seen the show or smth
i will steal both him and bruno and marry them both <3
this man is beloved i love him to death
10/10
Pannacotta Fugo:
i cannot spell his first name to save my life
also fandom take- ppl make him constantly only angry boy all the time and it really irks me. ik araki did not give him 2 much to work w in terms of canon personality but its frustrating
the light novel purple haze feedback is so so so good and adds sm to his character and i really like it for that!
fugo is one of those that imo deserves a lot and didnt get that
genuinely the vibes between how he treats narancia is v interesting to me, like its clear he cares about nara but nara not doing great w math really frustrates him
i love their interactions and how he is genuinely a kind person at times
the manga colors r superior here, my strawberry boy <3
i just really love and appreciate him a lot and wish that ppl gave him more love
i keep getting assigned him on kin quizzes
very smart good boy
ALSO ok fugo did not do any wrong by leaving
unsure if thats a hot take but i genuinely dont blame the character one bit for leaving and again purple haze feedback really delves into that and why he did it
if ur a fugo fan go read it
his past is really upsetting esp in the anime i will cry over it
his stand is adorable and i wanna hug it
his vibes r fun and i wanna gift him strawberry dangly earrings
8/10
Narancia Ghirga:
this boy i am also adopting (i am adopting most of them sorry)
i really hate how ppl act as if hes stupid bc bad math skills do not equal stupid like did ppl not see the fight w formaggio??
the way he just fucking dove into the water after the boat and how brunos face went all soft and happy it will never not make me cry
he is constnatnly making me wanna cry if i think too much about him for 2 seconds i love him sm
how can anyone not adore him when he set an entire street on fire yk
hes just happy despite his past and it makes me sad i love nara sm
torture dance is one of my favorite memes from the show
ALSO ok the way he died so suddenly absolutely broke me bc the remaining team members r really just seeing everyone die in front of them so quickly
his goofy and laid back moments r my fave
i love just how loyal and caring he is to his friends
his stand is really cool and again the fight w formaggio was so fun to watch
8/10
Guido Mista:
probably my least favorite member of the team for a semi good reason:
the jokes towards trish are really really uncomfy and how fugo doesnt wanna be involved but he is pushing him to do something that makes him uncomfortable did not make me like him a lot
hes goofy but not goofy enough for me to be ok with the repeated jokes about that esp in the body swap episode (ik it was supposed to be funny but it just felt off)
his vibes r good but i wish we got to see his hair
the fandom interpretation is normally pretty good of him overall?
despite not loving him a lot, i really enjoying writing for him (one day might open up headcanon requests or smth but unsure)
hes someone id wanna watch movies w but his taste in movies and mine r very different
love how he and his stand get along
honestly has very very good comedic potential
i really like how he and giorno interact as the series goes on (in a platonic way i need to clarify that i love their friendship)
again him in purple haze feedback was really interesting
probably a 5/10?
Trish Una:
beloved and deserved better
her first outfit in the manga > outfit in the anime
actually in general i believe in manga trish superiority like her hair in the manga looks so cool
her stand her stand her stand i love sm
if u dont include trish in the group i am murdering u <3
HER CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT!!!! IS SO GOOD!!!!!!
fandom gripe is how people either pretend she does not exist or has the trish first introduction thing where shes using her defense mechanisms and acting a bit spoiled
OK but her in purple haze feedback!!! mild spoilers but how bruno was taking care of her post the ending of vento aureo makes me so happy each time i think of it
very mad that she canonically didnt really get an ending and yet again PHF my beloved actually gave her that
how spice girl starts out as a stand thats helping her thru a very stressful situation is so cool and i love it
DAD BRUNO DAD BRUNO DAD BRUNO *frothes at the mouth*
but more seriously how she leans on bruno and begins 2 trust him and nearly point blank is referring to him as a father figure always fucks me up
esp because of the resulting fight afterwards
and the very ending of the arc that ends w bruno being like bye gonna go in the clouds and look ethereal now, oh man it makes me so sad
bc giorno is the only one that knew what happened and people that were closer to bruno due to knowing him longer didnt
i wanna see how trish coped w that personally
despite being introduced not at the beginning i think her arc and character in general were as well paced as it could be!
9/10
finally done! sorry that took so long but oh man i have so many feelings towards these guys its not even funny
#asks#wholesome mutuals#vento aureo spoilers#to add that bruno is one of my faves of all time is probably obvious by me putting him at 10/10#fiance bullies me lovingly for liking leone so that is explanation 4 first bullet#he has not even met him but just calls him piss man#the fandoms treatment of most of these characters makes me really mad tbh
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ex’s and oh’s | j.h.
Summary: your ex and your partner, whom you have feelings for, walk into an interrogation room. Sounds like the beginning of a bad joke right?
Pairing: Jay Halstead x Partner!Reader
Song I listened to while writing: Spirits by The Strumbellas also a rewatch of Season 4 of Chicago P.D.
Author’s Note: sorry for the delay, I was watching a movie with my dad and forgot the time! This has literally everything. Romance, action, excitement. READ IT! PS: The part with the interrogation might confuse you a bit, be sure to read it carefully to know who’s talking to whom!
Warnings: mentions of alcoho, child abduction, death and guns
Word Count: 3,229 words
“You’re late.”
“Don’t I know it, Sarge.”
Normally you exchanged more than a few words with Sergeant Platt when you came to the district in the morning, but this morning you were late. This week you caught a case of abducted kindergarten kids and it’s been especially hard on you. Unsurprisingly, Jay knew about it, even though you’ve adamantly insisted that nothing was wrong, and came over with a bottle of wine.
“They’re already questioning the witness upstairs, giggles.”
You threw a thumbs up in her direction before placing your palm on the scanner, waiting for the buzz of the door impatiently, immediately pulling the door open when it did buzz. Hurrying up the stairs, you threw a collective ‘morning, hey’ into the bullpen and knocked on Kim’s desk as a form of greeting while you walked by, finally reaching your own desk, across from Jay’s, which was conspicuously empty.
His empty seat already had your head gears turning and you glanced at Kim, who was already looking at you quizzically. It took her only a few seconds to interpret your face.
“He’s questioning the witness. In the interrogation room,” Kim said, making you jump up and lock your gun into the locker.
“Y/N, wait-”
But you already disappeared around the corner into the observation room, where Voight was standing with his arms crossed. You made two steps into the room when you stilled, your eyes stuck on what was happening in the other room.
“So you’re telling me that you were right across the street while 15 kids were being abducted and the only thing you saw was a white van?”
“Man, I don’t know what to tell you. It’s not like I knew what was going on.”
“A bunch of kids being herded into a white van didn’t appear suspicious to you?”
“What the hell is Jay doing in there with my ex?” You sputtered and Voight only blinked at you.
“Don’t tell me he’s the witness.”
“He’s actually the only one we’ve got,” Voight replied and you scoffed, leaning your hand against the glass.
“Why the hell are you so riled up? Do you think I had something to do with it?”
“I don’t know, did you?”
“The jerk’s right though, why is Jay being so antagonizing?”
“Why do you think?” Voight said dryly and you pressed your lips together, shaking your head slightly when you thought about what had happened last night.
“I told you I am fine,” you said with a sigh, but still opening the door wide enough so Jay could come in.
“And I told you that you need to stop lying to me for two reasons,” Jay answered, leaning against the wall. “One, I am literally a detective. And two, I am your partner. You can’t lie to me.”
Rolling your eyes playfully, you pushed the door shut and walked to the living room with Jay hot on your heels. While you took a place on the couch, Jay wandered into your kitchen to grab two wine glasses. It was weird how he felt much he felt at home at your apartment. Handing him a corkscrew, Jay quickly opened the wine bottle and poured two glasses, offering you one.
“So. Talk to me.”
With a long sigh, you accepted the wine glass and swirled the wine in the glass, before taking a sip. You weren’t good at talking about feelings. You were good at making jokes, telling stories, nagging other people. But you rarely got raw and honest about what you felt. Jay was the same. The two of you never openly talked about your feelings for each other. You knew he loved you, but did he love you the way you loved him?
“They’re just kids, Jay. Innocent children in a kindergarten. Why would anyone abduct them? And what are they planning on doing with them? Who does something like this?” You threw the questions into the room, not expecting an answer. “I really love my job. I know we’re helping a lot of people, but this?”
You let out a sharp exhale and Jay gently pried the wine glass out of your hand, putting glasses on the coffee table. Without anything to hold, your shaky hands dropped into your lap before Jay clasped your hands in his, effectively stopping the shaking.
“Hey. Hey, look at me,” he said softly and you lifted your eyes to meet his. “I know this job is tough, but you can’t keep focusing on the bad stuff. How many times have you told me that? So now it’s your turn to believe, hm?”
Pressing your lips together, you nodded and gave him a small smile. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
Jay gave you a look and raised an eyebrow. “Hey, I’m always right.”
You snorted with a roll of your eyes and then gave him a push so he’d fall back on the couch, but he quickly grabbed your wrists, so you fell with him.
“You dimwit!” You exclaimed in between laughs, leaning your arms on his chest.
“You pushed me first!”
It was then that you realized how close you were. You swallowed thickly and tried to focus your eyes on anything but his mouth, like all the freckles dusted across his face, his beautiful green eyes and eventually, your eyes still ended up on his lips. It looked like he was looking at yours and your tongue reflexively darted out to wet your lips.
The tension was so thick, you almost felt it all around you and at this moment, you thought to yourself: this is it. Maybe this is where Jay would reveal his true feelings for you.
But your hopes were too high.
Jay quickly averted his eyes and cleared his throat, before he gently rolled over, lying next to you. There was a brief silence and then Jay clapped into his hands, as if he’d wanted to clear the air.
“You down for some pizza?”
“Yeah… Sure.”
The night passed relatively normal after that, but that one moment still lingered in both of your minds, especially in yours. Maybe he didn’t see you as more than a partner and friend. And now you have to watch Jay drilling your ex, out of all people in Chicago? God really liked to torture you.
“How about you stop dicking around and tell me what happened before I arrest you for obstruction of justice?”
“Obstruction of-” Your ex jeered and then paused, furrowing his brows. “Wait a minute. You’re Y/N’s partner, aren’t you?”
You wished you could see Jay’s face instead of his back.
“That’s Detective Y/L/N to you,” Jay said, his voice dropping lower.
“Alright, that’s it, I am pulling him out. Burgess, you and me,” Voight said and headed out of the room. You hadn’t even noticed Kim in the doorway, and she just gave you a sympathetic look before she followed Voight into the interrogation room.
“Halstead, take a break now,” Voight ordered as he opened the door. Jay threw his hands up in the air in exasperation.
“Sarge, I-”
“I said now!”
“Yeah, Halstead, take a break,” your ex taunted and Jay slapped the table, making him flinch when he pointed a finger at him.
“Do not test me, you jagoff.”
With that, Jay pushed his chair back and Kim and Voight sat down across from him. Your ex, quickly having regained his composure, grinned at the two of them.
“Thanks for saving me, Halstead’s a real hothead, huh?”
“Shut your mouth.”
You stopped paying attention to the interrogation when you saw Jay walk past the open door, freezing when he saw you.
“Y/N? How long have you been here?”
Shaking your head with a scoff, you exited the room, shouldering past him.
“Y/N, wait, I can explain!”
You didn’t. Ignoring everyone’s eyes, you walked straight to the break room and you were about zero percent surprised when Jay followed you in there, shutting the door behind him. Still, you ignored his presence and grabbed a mug to pour yourself a coffee.
“Earth to Y/N, I am talking to you,” Jay exclaimed and laid a hand on your shoulder, turning you to face him.
“I am trying to drink my coffee here, Halstead.”
Jay sighed and gave you a look. “Really? You’ve resorted to calling me by my last name now?”
“What do you want, Jay?” You asked, putting an unnecessary emphasis on his name just to bug him.
“Oh my god,” Jay muttered, massaging his temples before he turned his attention back to you. “Listen. I know I shouldn’t have been so aggressive but he’s such a dick, I couldn’t help myself.”
“You always thought that he was a dick and tried to be civil to him. But you treated him like a hostile suspect in there, even though he’s the only witness in this fucking case. What the hell is wrong with you?”
Jay rubbed his chin ruefully and shrugged with his shoulders. “I just lost my cool, okay. I wasn’t actively trying to destroy this case.”
“You never lose your cool unless it’s something personal.”
“Well, this was personal. You’re my partner. He treated you like shit, ergo personal.”
He was making excuses up and both of you knew it.
“That was a year ago, I am fine. I don’t need you to fight for my honor.”
“Cheating on your girlfriend doesn’t have a statute of limitation and-”
“What the hell Jay!” You suddenly exploded, startling him. “Stop saying stupid shit and just be honest with me. This is bullshit! Last night you came over all like ‘I am your partner, you can’t lie to me’ shit and now you have the audacity to lie to me when it’s literally about me?”
Jay heaved out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. “Okay, fine. You’re right, I am sorry, I shouldn’t lie to you… I just don’t know how to tell you this.” He paced back and forth, while you looked at him expectantly, soon he turned back to you.
“I-” Jay began, but broke off again, cursing before he cupped your face and kissed you.
Even though you were still mad at him, you could feel your resolve slowly melting away as he kissed you and while you were shocked for a split-second, you kissed him back the moment you had realized what was happening. You weren’t sure how long you’ve been kissing when Jay slowly pulled away, leaning his forehead against yours.
“I’m sorry, this is probably the least appropriate place to do this, but I figured if I can’t find the words, I’ll act instead,” he mumbled softly and you nodded, not finding any words. Your head was whirring, trying to form a sentence, but before anything could come out of your mouth, someone knocked on the door and the two of you sprang apart.
“Hey, I hate to interrupt you guys,” Adam said, leaning in the doorway, “but Antonio tracked the white van your SOB ex described and it’s parked outside a warehouse in Oakly Boulevard. We gotta go right now.”
You and Jay looked at each other, faces incredibly serious. You knew this had to wait right now.
“We’ll talk later,” you promised him and he gave a curt nod, before the two of you followed Adam to save some lives.
“Everyone in position?”
It was a couple hours later and your team was sitting outside the warehouse where the kids were held. The weather was gloomy, and even though it was only a few minutes past four pm, the sun has already set, engulfing the warehouse in darkness.
“Burgess and I are on the roof boss, we’re ready.”
“We’re good, Kev is ready to take down the door.”
Jay glanced at you, hands on his radio. “You good?” You swiftly broke the lock and gave him a thumbs up, before he gave his confirmation through the radio to Voight, who was running point outside of the building.
“Okay. Remember, quiet and stealthy. Right now we count all fifteen kids and 4 offenders inside and 3 outside standing watch. We do not want to tip them off, who knows what they might do. The most important thing is to get the kids home to their families alive, you hear me?”
Everyone voiced their understanding.
“Good. Go.”
“We’re in,” you spoke quietly into the radio, silently moving through the dark warehouse. It took a few seconds for your eyes to adjust to the darkness but you could hear people talking from a room where light was coming from.
“We got the pricks outside,” Adam said.
“We’re through the west entrance, hostages seem to be kept in the break room, two offenders with them and three are walking the warehouse, keep your eyes open,” You heard Kim’s voice crackling through your earpiece and you stilled when you saw a flashlight bouncing off the walls.
Turning back to Jay, you pointed two fingers in that direction and he nodded before he disappeared into the dark. You quickly walked towards the flashlight and a few seconds later you could hear a grunt and a body hitting the floor.
“One suspect down,” you informed the team. “We’re getting closer to the breakroom, I can hear two of them arguing.”
There were two doors leading into the room and you glanced at Jay.
“You go in, I’ll distract them,” he whispered and the two of you split up, quietly moving toward the open door. Through the crack, you saw two men, standing in front of the children, waving guns around. The children looked scared, but otherwise okay. You felt a bit relieved, though you knew that this was not over yet.
“I told you,” one of them said, getting in the face of the other man, “We’re waiting for the parents to contact us, we left them a message-” A clatter outside the room made him pause and he quickly looked around, alarmed. “Someone’s here. Go check if where the others are.”
His partner rushed through the door and the shot caller aimed the gun at the kids. “If you even think about running, I will kill all of you,” he threatened and as you moved in, you pointed your gun at his head.
“I don’t think so, jackass. Hands up and put the gun on the floor, now.” You could hear the offender cursing under his breath before he carefully dropped the gun to the floor. Kicking the gun away, you moved closer until the nuzzle of your gun was pressed against the back of his head.
“Get on your knees.”
You were surprised that he was so compliant and threw some handcuffs on. Then, you slowly put your gun back in the holster, turning to the kids.
“Hey, hi kids. It’s okay, I am a detective, you’re safe now okay?” You told the kids with an assuring smile, checking them over. “Is everyone alright? Anyone hurt?” The kids shook their heads and you sighed in relief.
“I got the kids, waiting for confirmation until all offenders are down. Jay, what’s your-”
“Watch out!” the kids cried and you felt a gun against the back of your head.
Fuck.
“Turn around and do not reach for your gun,” the man said and as you turned around, you realized it was the man from before. He looked nervous and drops of sweat were running down his temples.
“Kids, get behind me,” you said in a calm voice, not wanting to scare them.
“Wyatt, what do you want me to do with her?” he asked and Wyatt grunted, his face contorted in anger.
“Just kill her and get me out of these cuffs Zac, we’re about to be swarmed with police.”
You saw the hesitation in Zac’s eyes. “Hey, Zac.”
Zac turned his eyes on you and you held your hands higher. “Zac, right?” He nodded, his eyes flitting over to Wyatt when he screamed out.
“Don’t listen to her! Get me out of these cuffs!”
“Zac, ignore him and listen to me, okay?” Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jay inching closer, his gun aimed at Zac. You shook your head ever so slightly and Jay nodded, keeping his aim, but not pulling the trigger just yet.
“I know you don’t want to do this. You can still get out of here, it does not have to end like this. Look at all these kids. They’re innocent. Whatever you want to achieve, I promise there’s another way, okay?”
You could see that Zac was really listening to you, as he slowly lowered his gun, but Wyatt kept screaming at him.
“HEY! If I go to prison because of you I will fucking kill you!”
Zac balled his hands into fists and as the desperation clouded over his face, you knew this was a lost cause. He straightened his arm, his gun on you.
“I am sorry,” he pressed out.
“NO!”
A shot rang through the room and blood splattered all over your face, the kids screaming out. You exhaled deeply and blinked slowly, watching Zac fall over limply. You were so close to saving him.
“Hey, Y/N you alright?” Jay asked, rushing over to you and you nodded, holding onto his bicep for support while he patted you down. Wyatt was still kneeling on the floor, cursing loudly, not even bothered by the fact that his partner just died in front of him.
“I am fine. Let’s get the kids out of here,” you told him and he nodded, herding all the kids together to lead them outside.
Several ambos were already waiting outside to check on the kids as the offenders were being taken away. You watched with a small smile as a handful of cars pulled up, and parents started piling out, calling for their kids.
A hand laid on your shoulder and when you turned, Voight was giving you one of his rare smiles. “Good job, Y/N. Do you need a medic?”
“It’s not my blood,” You said, wiping your sleeve over your face. “Thanks Sarge.”
Voight clapped your back affectionately and then walked off to take care of the offenders, while you looked around, finally catching Jay’s eyes across the street. He tilted his head to the side and you gave a tired nod, picking up your feet to where Jay’s GMC was parked.
He was waiting by the driver’s door, but instead of getting in the passenger’s side, you walked up straight to him, laying your head on his chest. Jay wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close.
“Today was good, huh?”
“Mhm,” you hummed, not wanting to pull away just yet. “Can’t believe it started with you yelling at my ex.”
Jay breathed out a laugh before he pulled away, holding you at an arm's length. “Listen, about that-”
You effectively cut him off by placing your lips on his, kissing him gently. Immediately he kissed you back and cupped your cheek with his hand, holding you as if you were delicate. You pulled away after a few seconds and smiled up at him.
“I think I got it,” you told him quietly and he beamed at you, tucking your hair back.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.“
You knew that you’d have to have this conversation eventually, probably later that day. But for now, this was enough.
Taglist: @toomuchtv95 // @miranda0102 // @annaallicce // @galacticsmoon
#ex's and oh's#jay halstead#jay halstead fanfiction#jay halstead fanfic#jay halstead fic#jay halstead imagine#jay halstead imagines#chicago pd#one chicago
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jason had just settled onto his couch with a jane austen novel and his favourite peach iced tea when damian crept in through his window. he sighed internally and decided to simply ignore him. he had told damian to use the front door (nevermind the fact that jason rarely used the door) and more importantly? he was freaking comfortable. after a few minutes as jason flipped idly through the book, damian cleared his throat. jason sighed again, outwardly this time and reluctantly dragged his eyes up to his youngest brother. baby bat was shivering slightly from the rain outside and jason simply rasied an eyebrow as he sipped at his tea. scowling, dami stomped over to jasons bathroom to dry off. he rolled his eyes. how dramatic. damian was acting like he sentenced titus and alfred the cat to their deaths instead of how he was actually saving jason from deep cleaning his rain soaked carpet. (he was still going to deep clean the carpet the next time he tidied up but still)
when damian stalked back into the room, looking less like a wet, angry kitten and more like a dry, angry kitten, jason titled his head back and established eye contact.
"so what brings you over to my neck of the woods, demon spawn?"
instead of snapping back like jason expected, damian simply stood there looking extremely uncomfortable. he shuffled his feet, opened his mouth then closed it and sat next to jason on the couch he splurged way too much on.
"i don't know how to tell you this" dami began, hesitant "but i believe harper is experiencing thoughts of suicide"
jason jerked up, almost knocking over his tea (and what a damn waste that would be) before fixing damian with a look. he hadnt noticed anything different in roy lately but he knew more than anyone that depression acted strangely and was hard to pinpoint. his mind raced with thoughts of why roy might be suddenly suicidal, from a sudden relapse to not getting a happy meal toy included in his 3.99 box of clogged arteries. "why do you say that, damian?"
"i have been keeping an eye on his health since he became a close confidant to you and last night he said something worrying that i am still not able to parse the meaning of" jason smiled lightly at that, in damian speak he was basically declaring that he cared for roy- if for nothing else than for how happy he made jason. still he shook it off and asked what roy had said that was worrying dami.
"he was patrolling last night" jason knew that. roy had been picking up his patrols since jason had a nasty leg wound. it was the reason he wasn't out tonight. "and he was on the phone with an unknown person, though i am inclined to believe it was either Starfire or Canary" okay, still not surprising "and then he said that the only place he could die happy was between your thighs" oh hello blue screen. yes jasons mind was in the middle of rebooting but could you hurry it along? he almost missed what damian said next. "not only does he wish for death upon himself, he wishes for you to give it to him!"
"damian" jason managed, frantically trying to figure out a way to explain to his baby brother without including his sex life. "uhh its just an expression"
damians face brightened up slightly. "really? he does not wish to smother himself between your thighs?"
"yeah, its like...like just a way to say... mind your business? mmhmm" he struggled to get out, pulling an explanation out of his ass.
"you have told father to mind his business a thousand times but i dont recal you ever using that one. is it new?"
oh god. jason would rather die again than continue this conversation.
"uhh its only used if you're close to someone" jason didnt know what he didnt wrong but dami's eyes widened in clear worry. "i thought you and father were reconnecting? has something happened? are you fighting again?"
well shit. jason had not thought this one through. fuck roy and fuck his mile wide kink that centered around jasons thighs. he was going to kill him. and he wouldnt even use his thighs. "oh nonono dami we're fine, just not as close as me and roy" he hedged, pleading to gods he didnt believe in to stop this conversation with whatever means necessary. strike him dead if need be but *please*. damians eyes narrowed "and exactly how close are you with harper, jason?" jason stared in disbelief. how had his nice relaxing evening turned into such a shitshow? damian was fine with roy when he and jason were just friends but now that he was (correctly) assuming a relationship, his over protective instincts were kicking in? christ. he remembered how when dick and babs finally started dating (again), damian seemingly lost all respect for her and called her an evil harlot more than once.
thankfully he was saved by answering in the form of the best person jason had ever met aka duke thomas. he announced his presence by awkwardly coughing. jason met his dark eyes and mouthed 'help me' over damians head. duke smiled as if it was getting pulled out of him by torture but nodded.
"hey dames, dick wanted you to join him by the docks when you finished up here" damian scowled "cant you see i am clearly not finished yet"
"hah, well dick was facing up against scarecrow and i think he needed some back up but you know him"
"yes, he wont admit he needs help when he very clearly does" damian sighed "very well, ill go check on dick. you stay and question jason. " and with that damian clambered out the window and after he disappeared from sight, jason threw his head back to stare at his ceiling and groaned. duke laughed at him.
"hey daisy duke?" duke grumbled at the nickname and jason cracked a smile "how did you know i needed back up?" duke winced and ran a hand over his dreads. he made a face and jasons soul was slowly draining out of his body. "oh haha funny story" duke rocked back on his feet and faked laughed "damians com was still connected to the channel" jason froze.
"who was on the channel oh my god" duke smiled thinly and his hand paused on his head. "other than me? everyone." jason buried his head in his hands and let out a high pitched whine. duke consolingly rubbed his shoulder. this is why jason loved him. he hadn't even laughed at jason like tim, dick or steph would or started plotting death like damian started to. he and cass would just offer support. jasons favorite brother and sister right here folks. duke sat down beside him
"listen. i know what it's like to be outed when youre not ready and when i heard damian grilling you about roy, i thought i would help" jason turned and stared at his brother. duke was staring at his hands and avoiding eye contact. "i got caught with a boy when i was 15 in high school. its pretty shitty to be gay and poor in a homophobic neighbourhood but its worse to be gay, poor and black." jason knocked shoulders with him. "if you tell me the name of whatever asshat outed you, I'll shoot him for you." duke let out a waterly laugh. "they kept bullying me for being gay but if they even listened, they would have realised that im pan" he joked "its a completely different thing after all". jason snorted
"that was horrible"
duke winced "yeah, it was wasnt it. im bad at this" it was jasons turn to avoid eye contact now.
"talia once caught me with a league operative. a male operative. i was so paranoid for days until i caught shiva leaving her rooms. i got the courage to tell her i was bi and she just patted my cheek and asked how my training was going."
duke huffed out a laugh. "bruce gives you shit but i for one think your lesbians moms are cool"
jason laughed with him "just wait until you meet Ducra. shes a badass"
"ducra?" he questioned with a weird look. "how many moms do you actually have? i knew about diana and your assassin moms but thats a new name" jason burst into laughter at the expression on dukes face. "its not fair man. steph is the only other one with a mom and you have four! you need to share" jason choked on his laughter and shoved duke.
"first of all, its only *three*. ducra is like my badass abuela"
"dont you already have a badass grandma? have you forgotten about Ma Gunn? she threatened to shoot bruce in the dick last week!"
"yes well excuse you i need strong female role models in my life, fuck you" the two of them continued to joke around for a little while longer before jason caught a flash of black kelvar outside his window and sighed. duke followed his eyes and smiled before patting jasons shoulder and pushing off. "have fun with the one strong male role model in your life. im going to see if cass needs help" both of them knew that cass wouldn't need help but jason accepted the excuse for what it was. "me and steph are still coming over to study tomorrow. college is kicking my ass and i need you to explain this English assignment to me"
jason scoffed "im not writing your essay for you"
"eh worth a try. bye jace" duke gave a two fingered salute and slipped out the window. jason took the brief reprieve to sip his tea and mourned when he discovered the ice had melted and watered down the peach taste. for the third time that night, someone crept into his window. oh well. third times the charm right? jason wasn't going to acknowledge bruce until he said something himself. it was a repeat of damian. jasom read his book as it got increasingly uncomfortable.
"jason."
"bruce" jason drawled, not lifting his eyes from his book. bruce grunted like the neanderthal he was and jason finally huffed out a heaving breath before marking his page and looking up. bruce looked supremely uncomfortable. actually his face looked exceedingly neutral but jason knew how to read bruce and that was the brow furrow of how do i deal with jason without fucking it up? jason was well famailairsed with that one.
"you know i love you" jasons own eyebrows rose. bruce only said 'i love you' like four times a year tops. and he usually never wasted it on jason. bruce deflated at whatever face jason must have made. goddamn it. this was why jason always fought with bruce with his helmet on, he couldnt control his facial expressions for shit. "no you dont know that." bruce smiled thinly and to jasons suprise, quickly crossed the room and knelt, placing his hands on jasons shoulders.
"even if you dont believe it, and its my own fault that you do and i hate that i ever caused you to even doubt my love for you, i swear that i do, jay lad" jason was completely frozen. he had expected bruce to yell at him for letting roy go unchecked on patrol last night and how irresponsible he was yada yada, not this declaration of feelings that he had no clue how to deal with. he couldnt remember the last time bruce called him that. it had to have been when he was still in those scaly green panties and pixie boots. and not the adult verison that jason picked up from a halloween store on a whim just to see roys eyes.
bruce sighed and drew jason into a hug. when bruces shoulder started getting wet, jason was horrified to realise he was crying. "i wanted you to know that i wouldnt love you any less for loving a man. but you have to know that i love you in the first place for that to happen" bruce said self deprecating.
"shut the fuck up" jason said sniffling and gripping his dads back. "i hate you"
bruce laughed softly at him before pressing a kiss to the side of jasons head. "i want you to know that i expect roy-and you- over at dinner on sunday. i need to meet the man that stole my babys heart" he murmured. jason laughed wetly "youve already met roy, you just want to con me into actually coming to family dinner"
bruce smiled "that was before i knew you two were dating. roy needs to know what hes getting into" jason leaned back enough to stare into bruces eyes and weakly punched him in the chest "dont threaten my boyfriend. he refused to look at me for two weeks after t was done with him" bruce sighed longingly "its times like this when i remember what caused me to love talia in the first place."
"bruce!" the aforementioned man laughed and hugged jason tightly before stepping back a few steps. "Sunday dinner. you and roy. 8 pm." on a whim jason reached out and snagged bruces hand. "hey" he started, swallowing "you wanna stay for a while? we could watch a movie or something" bruces eyes softened and he nodded. "let me change out of the suit."
and if roy had crept in after patrol only to see jason napping on his dads chest to a shitty action movie playing in the background and took several pictures, well that bruces fault for not waking up when roy stumbled it. (nevermind the fact that bruce had every single one of those pictures saved on his phone) (nevermind the fact that after roy put his phone away, he was greeted to the sight of batman glaring at him as he twisted a batarang around his fingers. it was sorta ruined by the fact that jasons curls was hiding the lower half of his face but roy was still adequately terrified)
#jason todd#roy harper#jayroy#jayroyweekend2020#jayroyweekend#day 2: pride#bruce wayne#damian wayne#duke thomas#this is self indulgent#this is self care#bruce is trying his hardest#and he is succeeding#i was listening to about love by marina and the diamonds#its so jayroy#its not mentioned but diana took jason to his first pride as robin#bc he told her and only her#talia and shiva took jason to his first pride after he was resurrected#damian will cut someone if they think dirty thoughts about his brothers#once he learns what dirty thoughts are#but kon is next#jason looks up to 20 female figures and only one male figure (its bruce)#(dont tell him)
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Lilac is the best shade of purple, don't'cha think? // J x Lilith // a renewal of love, soft comfort.
A/N: @jokershyena I’ve spent all of the last two days writing this for you because I am livid that someone dared to invalidate the love that you share in such a cruel way. Because your love is important. Because your love is real and valid and safe and good and wholesome. Because I love you and I love J and I adore the relationship you have together. And, also, a chance to spoil you? Hell yeah! <3 Personal details within; all things which I’ve written about before so I hope it’s okay to put them here, too.
Summary: Cruel, close-minded remarks make you feel like J is mad at you; you should be stronger than to be hurt by such comments, your mind tells you. It’s untrue; J watches you crumble, but he doesn't let you wholly break. He catches your fall effortlessly and he reminds you of all the reasons why, of all the reasons you have what you do together. J breaks your fall with his own self and he meets you halfway. It's the loudest "I love you" and you hear him as clear as day.
TW; allusions to sex, emotional heaviness. Largely soft + fluffy but starts angsty. J refers to himself as Daddy (the things I do for you).
Word count: 4, 373. (A-ta-ta, no telling me off - you said you’d hold back! 😂)
HE’S SO CUTE IN THIS GIF OMG I WANNA SQUISH AND KISS AND PROTECC
You had been shaken to the very core of your soul by the cruel and careless comments about J, your J, which had been thrown at you. You had been deeply and personally invalidated, almost to the point of a vicious attack for no other reason than ignorance. Oh, how you wished that people were more aware of themselves and their words. How you wished that you had never even tried to reach out to someone new, to give someone else a chance at who you were. With the emotional depth of a teaspoon had someone so horrifically ripped into you. Their words had been callously loaded arrows with sharpened tips laced with poison. Once fired had they not missed the bullseye which may as well have been stamped upon your heart.
Various sentences and strings of words stood out and reverberated inside your skull. They attached to your sense of logic and weighed it down with thick, black tar. There was so much blackness within you this night that logic had ceased to have all meaning now and your mind had thus corrupted your spirits, which had been broken so easily. You knew that if J had been home right now, he would have been livid at what you perceived to be a state of weakness. How could you allow one person to split a crack into your soul so easily, someone you had barely known? So angry were you, so full of rage were you from all the harsh untruths and cold lies which had been tossed at you that your entire body was shaking and tears of hate and of sorrow poured down your cheeks, hot and fast. Oh, but you felt so sick. You were crying so hard that you almost couldn’t breathe, your lungs aching so desperately as your body yearned for oxygen.
But more than that... oh, more than that, you craved for J to come home, you hungered for your chaotic life partner, for your clown prince of crime, to be here with you. You wanted for him to reach within your mind and to extract the words from your head, to remove all traces of that person. You wish you had never taken that step forward. You hadn’t thought it through, but then... but then you shouldn’t have had to. You had done nothing wrong. You had only opened up and bared yourself to the world once more, and just like last time had you been shown all the reasons why you shouldn’t. There was a war waging within you; one half of you was stuck on what had happened and the other half of you was focused on the comforting and familiar weight of the ring on your finger, of the green and the purple side by side which so perfectly captured the way that you and J belonged together.
You could feel the branded ‘J’ on your shoulder and as your hand came up to feel the raised scar even through your shirt did the memory of the pain and of the gushing of the hot blood as it had poured down your skin fill your senses. You remembered the way J had straddled you, the way the switchblade he favoured had glinted silver in the natural sunlight of the room. You remembered the intense look of concentration in his whirlpools of a chocolate galaxy as he had bent over your torso. He had been quick overall, surprised had he been by your wishes. J had initially thought that you had been joking, but you hadn’t. You had genuinely and truly wanted for your J - yours - to brand you and to forevermore mark you as his and J had acquiesced. Though he enjoyed inflicting pain on occasions, he never gave you more than you could take and he had been quick by way of expressing his emotions, namely gratitude and love to you; for in actions did J communicate most loudly, most clearly.
Thoughts and memories of your life and your love with J filled your mind; the first time you had met on a darkened street and he had followed you home, safe in the shadows of yesterday, your first hug, the first kiss... the first shower together so that you could get used to being so naked and exposed in front of him before the first time you had sex... the first time you had shared the same bed, the first time you had come home to find J waiting for you because he didn’t know how else to show you that he had missed you. All of your first times were quickly followed by darker times; your arguments, all the times that J had been gone for days at a time without so much as a message or anything which let you know when he was coming home. All the times that you had cried for him, because of him, all the times that you had been wrenched from sleep because J was bleeding all over the sheets, unbothered was he by his own injuries. Both of you cared little for your own selves and you lived and you loved for the other person; in taking care of one another were your own selves taken care of and oh, how keenly the both of you felt any kind of separation, any kind of distance between the two of you. Physical or emotional did it matter not, for neither of you could or would survive long without the other.
The tale of the Hyena and her clown was one which was known only to the two of you. Anything else would put you in danger and J couldn’t abide even the idea of that. He had many, many ideas, his mind always racing in search of the next thing to do, but he rarely, if ever, told you about them. Even lies had elements of truth to them and so he didn’t even fabricate any details. If ever you were arrested or captured or even suspected of being involved with him then you would be immediately incriminated and you could potentially be tortured for information, and so did J keep everything to himself so that he could keep you safe. You were always a matter of the greatest urgency to J, something which was rooted in life or death for him. You would forever be his his greatest priority, and any stories which he told you late at night or in the early hours of the morning after you had jolted awake from another nightmare or from a bout of sleep paralysis were once which had undoubtedly been in the media, so that while you were involved in J’s life, you were also on the outside and such events had already occurred; thus removing any sense of danger which could arise from your being told of his ideas.
All the good and the beautiful moments and all of the bad and the ugly moments flooded your mind and you sank onto your bed with a choked sob, your hands covering your face as you gave in to all that you were thinking, all that you were feeling. Beyond the sadness and the rage which had descended upon you like a cloak was love and a fierce instinct to protect J, to protect what was yours. J had always been yours and he would always be yours, no matter what; and nothing and no one could or would ever be able to take you away from him. Not even Death itself would try; It knew better than that. You were truly meant to be and you were made for each other. So much of who you were complemented who J was and there was so much of the both of you which echoed within the other. You both thrived on chaos, you both loved to laugh together, and oh, the love the two of you shared was so palpable, so raw and so real that anyone lucky enough to see it from an outsider’s perspective was left reeling by it. You so rarely shared this part of yourself with others and what had happened tonight was exactly why you weren’t more open about it. People just didn’t understand.
So lost were you within yourself, so confused and so hurt and so angry were you that you completely missed J coming in through the front door. He rushed through his usual routine of checking every room by leaning across the doorway, intense gaze scanning the space which was available there. There was something in the air of your shared home which was just... wrong and J’s sharp instincts had picked up on it the second he had stepped over the threshold of the front door. So emotionally connected were the two of you, so intertwined were your weary souls that J just knew that something had happened to you this day and he was determined to get to the bottom of it, and fast, for a Joker he may but nothing did he treat as seriously as he did the art of loving you, his Hyena. The sounds of your anguish, muffled were they by the closed door which separated the both of you, tugged at J’s heartstrings and caused a physical ache in his chest, which he alleviated psychosomatically by rubbing at the area with a gloved hand. His full lips were set in a line, his jaw muscles ticking even as he tongued at the scars on his inner cheek. He didn’t like this. Not. One. Bit.
Under any other circumstances, J would have opened your bedroom door with such force that the wooden frame would have bounced off the blue walls and made you jump. He would have said, “ta-da!!!” with a dramatic wave of his arms and J would have cackled at your reaction as you scolded him for making you jump. But as it was, this was serious. His Hyena was upset and J could tell from the way that you were crying - so well did he know you after twelve years of being in your life in one way or another, though that way had become more defined and more... intimate in recent years - that this wasn’t a time for joking. You didn’t need The Joker right now. You needed J, your J, and always was he there to catch your fall even before you knew that you were falling. All of this and several other thoughts, including the fact that J would murder whomever had made you cry, filled his mind within the few moments that he was stood there, and he pushed the door open with a hand, moving loud enough that his clothes rustled as he moved, thus alerting you to his presence, but quietly enough that he let you know without speaking that he understood the gravity of the situation and he was treating it and you with the care and respect which was deserved and needed.
Your breath was coming in panting gasps now and J clicked his tongue in disapproval, moving effortlessly through the space until he could get to your bed. His purple leather clad fingers wrapped cleanly around your wrists and J tugged them away from your face. “Shush, shush shush,” He used the same low and soothing tone which aided you in relaxing after a nightmare or a bout of sleep paralysis, and you found yourself taking a deep and natural breath which filled up your entire lungs before you exhaled and totally emptied them in a single rushed exhale of J’s name. “Daddy’s got’cha, babydoll.” J’s fingers slid easily in the spaces between your own and he tugged you up to standing with the grip which he had on both of your hands. His voice was quiet, his words practiced but sincere. He knew what to say to you, he knew how to say it to you. “What’s eatin’ at’cha, hm?” J suspected that something had been said to you and though you hesitated to tell him, scared were you that he would be angry with you or that he would think you weak for not being able to to withstand the cruel things which had been thrown your way. “Ya’ know ya’ can tell me anythin’, Lil.” The familiar encouragement, of words spoken often, was accompanied with a slightly impatient bite to the words. J wasn’t messing around, he needed to know who or what had hurt you. He cared little for the whys or the hows, you were the only thing which was truly important in his life.
You could think of no better way to explain the situation to J than to just... show him your phone. The harsh blue light from the small screen screen cast an eerie glow upon J’s starkly painted visage and you saw his jaw muscles bunching up as he tongued at the scars on the inside of his cheeks. Oh, but this... this was true anger. You shrunk away from him, expecting to be faced with his anger, but J wasn’t angry at you. You watched his face carefully as J hunched over your phone, his thumb scrolling rapidly and an occasional click coming from those talons as they met the screen; he was reading quickly and you realised that while J was reading all of it, he was only taking in the worst of what had been said to you. You knew what he was reading:
How can you love someone who’s so messed up?
He’s The Joker - he’s a bad person.You’re one too if you love him.
He’s ugly inside and out; such a horrible person.
He killed a boat full of people and who knows how many others - you can’t love him.
You’re crazy if you love him.
Minutes crawled by, marked only by your breathing, and you could see that J was thinking, analysing. It was only when he locked your phone and handed it back to you with a careless flick of his wrist that you knew that he was done. You took the phone from J, your fingers brushing against his, and then set your phone down on the bedside table. You stared at your phone, a hurricane of emotions swirling around in your mind, your perception of the situation skewed. You felt... heavy. Like you were unworthy of J, somehow, because you had gotten so upset about this, because you had allowed a stranger’s cruelty to so deeply affect you. J was watching you and he snorted quietly under his breath, drawing your attention towards him and away from the object which represented the day’s hurt. “That, ah - that look on ya’ face better be a bad joke.” His tone told you everything that you most desperately needed to know in that moment - that he wasn’t angry at you but rather at the person who had been on the other end of the screen. How could he ever be mad at you, the only person in Gotham who cared enough to see him, to really see him? You smiled without feeling, tears stinging at your sore eyes, rimmed with red were they, and J made a noise of something which only made those tears slip down your cheeks. He opened his arms to you, his fingers splayed out at his sides, and you choked on your next breath as you fell into your clown.
He caught you.
He always had and he always would.
J was warm, impossibly so, and you pushed yourself into the dark green fabric of his waistcoat. All of your anger and hurt was beginning to melt away, insignificant was it in the face of what truly mattered to you, and J made a noise of amusement and pulled the edges of his royal purple trench coat around you so that only the crown of your head and your legs were visible to the room. Then, with his arms solidly around you did he lean his weight into your body, which served to bring you even closer to him. J ducked his head and nuzzled his face into the top of your head, his hot breath tickling the surface of your scalp and making you smile into his body, though you resisted the urge to scratch the top of your head to relieve the itch which was now there. Your arms came around the back of J and you squeezed into him. J growled low in his throat, a tidal wave of protectiveness overcoming him as your need for him was more than apparent, and he stepped ever closer to you. If he moved away from you now, you would lose your balance. The thought made J’s lips quirk upwards in amusement; he wouldn’t do it, though. Not to you. And not when you were feeling like this.
Oh, shit, you loved him. This moment right here was what you lived for. It was what got you out of bed every day even feeling the way that you so often did; to the point where you said that you were okay because at least you didn’t feel worse. This moment right here was everything to you. It was medicine to your soul, oxygen to your heart, and exactly what you needed to begin to move on from the hurt which had been inflicted upon you this day. J was so solidly pressed against you, every plane of your bodies aligned. The scent of greasepaint, gasoline, gunpowder, with a slight undertone of sweat and then of something which was just J filled your senses and a serene, soft smile came to your face. As if he could sense the peace filling your weary and tormented soul did J hum quietly, low in his throat, and you felt it rumble through his chest. You turned your head so that you could press a kiss to the area there and J’s arms flexed around you. He was holding you carefully, knowing was he of the parts of your body which you didn’t want to be touched, but his grip was firm. J wanted you here in his arms.
J wanted to comfort you.
J wanted to be here for you, with you.
J wanted you.
Snippets of things he had said in the past, flashes of all those memories which had filled your mind only moments earlier, all filtered through in your mind and you felt your tears beginning to slow as you sunk into all that J was, all that he had ever been and all that he would ever be. You loved him for all of him; for all of the good and the bad, for all of the things which he kept hidden from you for various reasons including protection, for all of the things you knew he had done, for all of the things which you only suspected without knowing for sure... You loved J, you loved him and you knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that neither of you were crazy. Neither of you were wrong, neither of you were any of the words which had been thrown at you. Neither of you were ever anything other than yourselves and though that opened you up to being misunderstood by those who didn’t even want to understand, it also meant that again and again and again did the two of you fall together. You knew J, you knew him, and he knew you, too. There was nothing that the two of you hadn’t already survived together and there was nothing which would ever tear you asunder.
Finally did your arms slide up, up J’s back, still underneath the trench coat, and they curved to the broad slope of his shoulders. J lifted his head from yours in response to the change in the situation which he knew was coming and the top of your head felt cold... empty, with only the ghost of his touch. It felt much like the way your heart did without him by your side, where he belonged. Even when he was right beside you did you miss him. You moved to cup J’s face in your hands but unlike other times, there was no warning which flashed in his dark eyes. No tilting backwards of his head, no grunting. J just... looked at you and saw you looking back. Such a raw connection was made when your matching sets of chocolate eyes met - a match made in Hell, were you - as soul gazed into soul. “You’re so handsome, J.” You expected for J to scoff, but he didn’t. He was quiet. He was letting you love on him in all the ways that you wanted to and with a twinge in your gut did you suspect that he had been at least slightly offended by the conversation thread, though that wasn’t your fault. J would have found it out, anyway, so determined was he when it came to soothing the tempestuous storms which so daily rained down hell upon his beautiful Lilith. “And you’re not a monster. You’re a human, just like me, and you’re beautiful,” Slowly, carefully, did your fingers move to trace along the jagged scars. Though J didn’t ever focus on the past and he preferred to leave it where it belonged, the story behind his scars always broke your heart and you wished that you had been there for him. You would have been there for him, protected him... loved him.
J echoed those sentiments, unexpressed such as they were. He occasionally entertained thoughts of what he would have done had he been there for you at key areas of your life, but in the end he knew that such thoughts could cause more pain than good. There was only the here and the now and right now, oh... right now, your lips were pressing so reverently against the worst of his scars. J’s eyes slipped closed and he hummed as he pressed himself into your slow and careful touches, so hesitant were you to hurt him. You knew not if the nerve endings were active and so you were as gentle as you could be with the man who held your entire heart in his hands. “You’re not,” another kiss, “A monster, J.” Your lips traced across the neater of the two scars and J’s breath hitched imperceptibly, his arms flexing from where they loosely rested around you, “You’re human.” J knew what you were saying; that you were sorry for those words, that you still thought that he was mad at you. Thoughts remained despite J’s best efforts and he huffed as he realised that he had to up his game.
J pulled away from you and left you with the ghostly imprint of himself against every part of you as he shed his trench coat. It dropped carelessly to the floor - a dangerous move considering how many weapons, grenades and the like resided in the many pockets - and he unlaced and then removed his steel toe capped boots with no care for where they landed. J threw back the corner of the duvet and got in easily before he reached across the space of the bed and peeled back your corner, too - get in. You did so and immediately were you tugged into J’s body. He made a show of wiggling around so that he could get comfortable for you and you ended up on your stomach laying atop J. Full, painted lips rained down kisses atop your head and each time J pulled off of you did he make an exaggerated mwah noise. He was doing what he could to cheer you up, sensing even without much confirmation from you that this had shaken you up more than you cared to admit to. You hated the way that this had made you feel and you wanted to erase the time of the experience, brief though it had been, from your mind. Such a thing was impossible, however, and so you contented yourself with allowing J to remind you of the things which really and truly mattered:
Not a stranger’s cold ignorance. Not rumours or heresay or lies. Not theories, rumours or untruths.
But this. Just... this.
You, in J’s arms, and he, pressed up against you so solidly that you could feel his heartbeat as well as yours. You, securely tucked in J’s embrace and he, doing his best to remove the world’s cruelties from the forefront of your mind even though he had been the indirect target. J’s lips in your hair and the echo of his scars against your lips, his scent in your nostrils and his hands upon your body. There was so much love between you in this moment, more obvious was in it times of great need, such as right now, that it had come together and formed a third entity in the bedroom, which shielded your minds as surely as the rapidly heating up duvet shielded your bodies from the room, like a radiator was J, and kept you safe, sane and honest from all those who sought to do you harm. For J wasn’t a monster, he was simply ahead of the curve and you... oh, and you were right there beside him, where you belonged. J’s hand crept across the space and picked up your own. His finger rubbed over the ring which you wore for him and you were just quick enough to see the smallest of smiles on his full lips as cool metal met his heated flesh.
You smiled to see evidence of J’s own happiness and as you nuzzled into your clown, feeling drowsy as the toll of tonight’s emotions, on top of what you had already been feeling, piled up on you, you whispered a very heartfelt and very sincere, “I love you, Jack.”
J’s fingers froze upon your ring and you held your breath, but as soon as he had reacted did he decide to not react and you released that same breath just as he said,
“I know, Lilith. I know.”
And he did.
Destructive raccoon boii(tm) @jokershyena @anyatheladyclown @joker-daddy @rinbyo @imightaswellnotexistatall @vladtoly @joker-is-my-hero @liz-rdwitch @enigmaticandunstable @ledgerskitten @tsukiakarinobara @germansarechill @ezziesworld @antonija89 @acw1 @sadjesterautumn @mermaleizroseglasses @justawriterinprogress @truthbehindthemysteries @hotpacino @call-me-harley-quinn
#ledger joker#ledger joker imagine#heath ledger#heath ledger joker#heath ledger joker imagine#heath ledger imagine#ledger!joker#ledger!joker imagine
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In This Together
Request: "I would like to request a Murphy/Emori with Spacekru while on the ring. Murphy has PTSD from Ontari's rape and he's depressed and cutting. Maybe do something where he tries to kill himself but Emori finds him and with support from his kru he gets better." - @warrier-queann
I’M REALLY NERVOUS I HOPE THIS IS GOOD lol
A/N- Thank you for being my first Request! I hope I write this properly! I hope it's not too OOC.
P.s- This is Canon-Divergent. He still splits from the team, but ge ends up going back with them in this, while that didnt happen in the show (at least on the Ring.)
Warning: Past Rape, PTSD, Self Harm which is pretty describd, Depression, Suicide Attempt, mentions Hanging, drinking, mentions of Floating(aka dying in space but you know that since you've watched the show lol).
Word Count: 2,298.. wow I got a little carried away lol.
Murphy isn't happy. That's no surprise to Anyone who understands the situation. He hasn't been happy for a long time. Heck, anyone who thinks that he's actually happy needs to get their people skills checked. He has so many trauma's under his belt that he could make almost anyone cringe at them. Which, some people in the past have. Emori used to be very open to listening to him, now she barley wants to look at him.
Murphy is laying on the cold, hard ground on his side of the ship, if he turns his head to the right he can see the Words "MURPHY'S SIDE, GO FLOAT YOURSELF" in big red letters, made in red paint that he made look like blood on purpose. He's not crazy. He knows hes not, no matter what the other think about him, and no matter what they whisper to each other when they pass his side. He's protecting himself. Protecting himself from the pain that they could cause him. He doesn't trust anyone, and the last person he trusted left him the moment he gave up on life.
He looks to his left and sees Earth. He scoffs as he thinks of how much he would rather be there than here. The place so many bad things happened to him on, is the same place he wishes he could be. He shakes his head and swallows the lump in his throat that always appears when he's thinking of the past.
He sits up and pushes his hair out of his face. He has let it grow since they've been here. It gets in his face all the time, but honestly he stopped caring a while ago. He grabs the bottle of alcohol he has by his little sleeping area and takes a big swig. It burns going down and he's honestly thankful for it. Otherwise he would actually believe he feels nothing other than emotional turmoil. He chuckles and grabs his knife staring at it with pain in his eyes.
He flicks it across the top of his hand lightly, watching as blood slowly makes its way out of the wound. He doesn't remember exactly when he started doing this, or when it became an actual problem, but he does know that it's been going on for a while. He can remember doing it while he was Stuck with Ontari. He remembers her touching the scars and fresh marks as if she cared, trying to coax him to do what she wanted without forcing it. It always felt wrong. He never wanted her touch, let alone having her touch the scars that show his pain.
Murphy knows he shouldn't think about her. He knows this is what happens every single time he does and nos he's spiraling again. Remembering her touch on his skin as he tried to play along with what she wanted. He remembers the fear that was forced into him as he laid there having to take what she gave him. He tried to think of Emori, but it never worked. He always knew it was Ontari.
Murphy tips his head back and gulps down a few drinks of Alcohol, throwing the bottle afterward in some direction he doesn't know exactly where honestly. He takes the knife, pulls up his Pant leg and cuts his Leg. The blood runs down it but he honestly doesn't care. He just lets it run onto his shoes, onto the floor. He chuckles darkly watching it flow. He closes his eyes just to feel a tear trail down his cheek. He makes a few more cuts on his leg watching as the blood falls together down on the ground.
He gets up, not Caring about the pulling of the wounds on his leg. He knows the others are down the hall. He could go to them, get the help he needs. But he won't. He won't risk being worthless to them again. He's just a waste of oxygen in his eyes. He doesn't help, that was the main reason Emori left him in the first place. He finds himself down the hallway closer to them than he has been in Months. But he knows hes not here for them. He turns to the side finally comprehending where he is. The Airlock. He pushes the red button opening it up and he hears the alarm start blaring, he forces his leg to work enough to walk through the door. He closes the door behind him. He hears yells outside because the comms are on.
"Where's Murphy?" He hears Raven yell. He scoffs and kicks the door. Its great that they care now where he is, it's honestly a little late for that. He's always wondered what being floated felt like. What his father went through for him. His personal theory is that it burns. The cold is so much that it just burns. But he never could find out. Now he can.
"John?" He hears Emori yell from outside. They'll be at the door soon. He can do it before they get there, before she gets there. He can't see them be happy over his death, it'll hurt him even more than ever. He turns to the red button and stares at it. His hand inches towards it and right before he pushes it he hears Emori screaming his name.
"John! Stop! What the hell are you doing?" She screams coming up to the door Banging on it harshly. He looks up at her, seeing she's as beautiful as she always was before. He looks down at the button then at her again.
"Doing what I have to." He says, his voice breaking as he does so. She shakes her head and he runs his hands through his hair turning away from the button.
"You don't NEED me! I'm a waste of space and you know it. I'm worthless! Let me go! You dont love me anymore anyways and I'm tired of this! I'm tired of the pain! I'm tired of feeling her hands on my skin every time i try to think of good things. Every time I think if you I think about her. I think about how I got hung, the torture. All of it. Because my brain with let me be happy! The thoughts won't just go away!" He screams, the tears he's been trying to hold back stream down his face. Emori looks at him in sadness and fear. He hears Heavy footsteps running down the hall towards them and he shakes his head. He grabs his hair and pulls, he realizes it grounds him slightly.
"John. Listen to me," She says lifting her Badass hand to the window in the door to the airlock. Murphy shakes his head looking down, his breath coming in quick bursts, "John! I'm NOT asking, and I'm definitely not joking around. Listen to me right now."
Murphy looks up to her and walks a bit closer to the glass between them. He lifts his hand and places it in the same spot Emori's is.
"Are you listening?" She waits for him to nod before she continues, "You aren't worthless, John. You never will be. You're just going through a rough spot right now, believe me it'll get better okay? Yes, I know you don't believe in all that fairy-tale bullshit, but I don't care. You're strong. You can fight this." She says Looking into his eyes.
"The memories won't go away." He says Looking at her with hope in his eyes. He reaches up to his throat and softly runs his fingers over it. He can Basically feel the rope around his neck. "I don't know what else to do."
"You fight, John. That's what you do. The memories might never go away but they'll get easier to deal with as time goes on. I'm not saying it'll be easy, because hell, I still have bad memories that plague my mind from a long time ago. But just because it's hard, that doesn't mean we should stop being strong.
"You are the strongest man I have ever met, John. You have been through so much, and you're still living with it, but this isn't the way to get through it. You need to fight it." She says breathing deeply, a determination set on her beautiful face.
"Will she ever go away...?" He asks softly deflating against the door. Emori's heart breaks seeing him like this. Seeing him completely broken. She regrets leaving him during this.
"Honestly? I'm not sure. Probably not. At least not right away. But it'll get EASIER. It'll never be perfect but it can get better. Let us help you. When you feel like she's here come to us and we can show you she's not. When you feel her touch and you need us to not touch you, tell us. Let us help you." She says staring at the red button. She hears Raven and Bellamy talking right out of sight, hoping that she could call for them in time if anything happens.
Murphy looks at her deeply and takes a few steps away from the door. The button is right next to him, right under his now outstretched fingertips. He hears Emori gasp and looks at her.
"John, please. We can work through this. All of us. I'm sorry I left you during this. I thought it was just you not Caring about anyone else, but I won't leave again." Emori says starting to tear up.
"Murphy? Hey, man." Bellamy says walking into the hallway where this is happening. "I'm here alright? You're not worthless. And I'm here, and so is everyone else, and we'll make sure you see that."
"Am... Am I broken?" Murphy asks his eyes tearing up again, he walks forward and leans his forehead against the glass. Emori shakes her head immediately and so does Bellamy who's trying to stay farther away than her.
"No, John. John, you're not Broken. You've just been through so much. You'll be alright." Emori says trying to smile in a way she hopes is assuring. She doesn't really know how to feel. She knew about Murphy's self harm issues but she never thought it would spiral all the way to him breaking like this.
"This-" Murphy sighs heavily and his eyes tear up. "This is going to change everything." Murphy finished his sentence and hits his hand against the glass. He pushes the "Open" button of the door separating him from Emori. He takes a few steps and Basically falls into her. Emori holds him close, not wanting to let go of the Man she almost lost. He falls to the ground and so does she, holding him the whole way there.
"It'll be alright, My Cute Thief." Emori says sweetly into his hair as he cries into her neck. She holds him close and Bellamy leans into the wall behind him relieved that Emori could stop him in time. Emori gets up dragging Murphy up with her.
"Let's get you some water alright?" She whispers to him. Murphy nods and clings onto Emori's shirt, following as she walks forward into the main area, where they can grab Murphy some water. Monty And Harper are sitting at a table close by looking on with concern in their eyes. Emori just nods slightly at them and grabs a cup. Murphy doesn't move from where Emori left him when she went to get water. He looks down to his feet and He hears Monty get up from his spot at the table.
"Hey, Man. How you doing?" Monty asks slowly Rising his hand up. Murphy sees it coming and nods slightly at it. Monty puts his hand on hsi shoulder and squeezes. "We're here for you man. You're not alone. I lost Jasper this way and... I'm not letting something like that happen again."
Murphy swallows the lump that formed in his throat and a sob comes out of his mouth, tears still falling. He leans into Monty then, causing Monty to gasp and hug him back. Emori comes back up to them and smiles sadly at the two men. Harper walks up and puts his hand on Murphy's shoulder, to show her support.
"We're here." Harper says softly.
"We're all in this together, man. We just have to stay strong and survive this. It's what Clarke would have wanted." Bellamy says from a few feet away, not Wanting to interrupt too much. He remembers the night he hung Murphy. In explicit detail. Every movement Murphy made, everything. It's hurts to think he made that mistake, which causes Murphy so much pain. Murphy just nods and steps away from Monty.
"Heh, sorry there man. Shirts a little wet." Murphy chuckles out wiping at Monty's shoulder. Monty just shakes his head and pats The other Man's Hand. Echo is sitting at the far end of the table and her and Murphy make eye contact. They nod st each other, in some sort of Unspoken conversation.
"Come on, let's get you cleaned up and to sleep, we'll get your stuff from the side in the morning." Emori says leaning up and kissing Murphy softly on the Cheek. Murphy smiles and buries hid face in the beautiful women in front of him.
While Emori drags him to their old room, from when before she ended things before, Murphy thinks. He thinks about what the future may hold and the pain he will have to experience. He knows it won't go away, but he also knows he has Emori to help. He has Bellamy, Monty and Harper... And even Echo. He has them. He can get help, and even though the pain worn go away completely, they'll help him live with it.
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