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shockinglyangel · 4 months ago

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FACADE - TOM RIDDLE x reader

MATURE, Warnings, toxic relationship, falling in love with someone that doesn’t exist.

SUMMARY: Tom Riddle is your gentlemanly boyfriend, or is he?

NOT PROOFREAD

"Tom?" You looked up from your book, finally speaking after sitting in a comfortable silence. You were in your boyfriends dorm, laying comfortably on his bed, a novel in your hands as you read yourself into a fantasy world. This was a common occurrence for the two of you, something that would happen often, giving Tom had some homework to catch up on, or you just wanted to enjoy his presence as he occupied himself with something else.

"Yes?" He slightly hummed, his head still down as he scribbled something into his notebook, perhaps not entirely irrelevant from the conversation you were about to start.

You closed your book slightly, keeping your thumb in the middle of the pages you had stopped on, ensuring you wouldn't lose your place after a moment of distraction. "I was reading this part in my book," you began.

"I wish not to discuss with you the pointless plot of a fantasy story." He interrupted, making sure not to look up from whatever it was he was so focused on.

You laughed a little, grabbing the small bookmark Tom had made you for christmas and closing it shut, before placing it on the sheets below your body. "It's not entirely about that," you moved yourself to sit up. "It reminded me of something."

He nodded, still turned away from you. "And what's that?"

"Well," you brought your hand to the bottom of your dress, pulling it down from its hitched up position, and back down to your knees. "I was in the girls bathroom this morning."

He furrowed his eyebrows, placing a hand over his book and closing it, turning his body around on his chair to face you, his arms leaning on the back of the wooden chair. "What is the need to tell me this?"

"I heard some girls talking, they mentioned you."

He nodded another time, suddenly slightly more intrigued, his eyes not leaving yours even once, his eye contact was known to make you nervous, he knew this well. "They tend to do that, don't they?"

You pursed your lips, slightly smiling. "Well yes, they do, however that was not my point," pausing, your hands go back to your skirt of the dress, your fingers playing with it as you try to bring it further over your knees. Tom watches you closely, his eyes slightly displaying a set of confusion as you did this. "They said they saw you in there last week."

His eyes went back up to your face as you say this, his expression faltering to display something of less content for a split second, but changing back to one of little to no expression as you looked up to him.

"I'm not saying you did anything," you raised your eyebrows, a hand leaving your knee to hold up your palm to him, showing that you meant no harm in your meaningless words. "I was just wondering as to why you would be in there."

He stopped for a moment, analysing you to best his understanding, he had studied you consistently since before the two of you were destined to be together. Destined.

Your relationship was nothing of the ordinary, the two of you were paired together for a potions assignment, you'd never spoken to Tom prior to this exchange, however he seemed to be almost over the moon when told he had to work alongside you. He was sweet, kind, compassionate even, he'd taken you on multiple dates before the time you had made it official, buying you presents, sometimes making you some. He was sweet.

However, there was a side to Riddle that you weren't aware of, the side of his cunning, and dangerous nature, his true side. Unbeknownst to you, Tom had it planned for a year prior that he was going to whoo you, make you his partner, in hopes of seeming less suspicious to Professor Dumbledore.

Dumbledore was the only teacher in Hogwarts that wasn't all so charmed by the young Riddle's intelligence, and charisma, he could see through what everyone else was too blind to notice. And Tom knew this well.

He cultivated a plan, looking around for the most innocent, purest person he could find in all Hogwarts. He landed on you, you were a known angel in that school, all the teachers loved and respected you due to your kind nature, and that's when Tom hatched the idea, his brilliant, marvellous idea.

He made his first move on you, creating another facade of this version of himself. He was everything to you, that he wasn't to himself.

However this idea had flaws, many of them. Riddle hadn't considered a possibility of actually growing fond of you, he hadn't expected to feel the way that he does now, when he constantly keeps an eye out for you to make sure you're ok and protected at all times.

He couldn't have possibly assumed that would happen. But it did. He lost himself in his desire to keep you along his side, however he knew you wouldn't waste a second to leave him if he acted as his true self.

And that terrified him.

"I saw someone go in there past curfew." He finally spoke, his eyebrows slightly raised, an innocent twinkle in his eyes.

You nodded, watching him closely. "I still don't think you're allowed in the girls bathrooms."

He smiled slightly, something that was common for him to do, especially when he was around you. But when he was alone, he didn't do that. "You are correct, as always," he bowed his head, his eyes still pining into yours.

You looked away from him for a second. "Did you find what you were looking for?" Your voice was softer than before, almost as if you were expecting him to break up with you on the spot.

Tom noticed this change of direction in an instant, moving his body out of his chair and to sit with you, his hand on your knee, fingers on your dress while his palm rests on your skin. "I did not." He admits. Another lie, but you didn't know that.

You swallow, letting out a shaky breath, your hands leaving your legs and heading back up to your stomach, holding them over your clothed torso. "It's not that I lack trust of you -" You began, stopping yourself mid sentence to look at your boyfriend who was still eyeing you closely, trying to get a read on your expression, something he had grown good at.

"But you think I was there with another woman?" He raises his eyebrows again, his hand still on your bent knees.

"No." You stopped him.

He smirked a little. "No?"

You rolled your eyes, letting out an exasperated huff and looking away from him before turning your head back into his direction. "Well, I won't say it isn't something that crossed my mind."

He chuckled, running his fingers over the fabric of your dress. "You believe I would do that to you?" He leaned slightly closer, his other arm holding him up on the bed.

You shook your head in response, folding your arms as you tried to find the right words. Tom was good with words, it was one of those things that he was recognised for, that and his good looks. "You can't blame me if I do," you looked deeply into his eyes, desperately trying to attack his thoughts, and find out what he was thinking in that moment. Much like he was doing to you. But again, you didn't know that.

"All the girls fawn over you, Tom."

He smiled, repositioning himself to face his body closer to you, one of his legs bent up to rest on the mattress, his other hand coming to your second knee. "And still I chose you."

You let your eyebrows slope downwards as he said this. "And you still chose me," you repeat, Tom knew exactly where this was going, but he bit his tongue to hold himself back, and waited for you to say it. "Why did you choose me?"

He smirked, aware of where your mind had headed during the duration of this conversation. "Why did I choose you? We are not doing this, I am not entertaining such nonsense."

You sighed back, lightly scratching one of your arms as if to signal a sense of discomfort. You never quite understood why he chose you out of all the people he could've had. He knew, but you had no clue. No one had ever thought about the two of you being together, however when the two of you turned into something more official, everyone was quick to agree you had made a perfect pair.

“I just feel as though we hardly know each other,” you spoke out of turn, placing your hand on his leg, wanting him to desperately listen to you and see where you were coming from. Was it really so insane for a girl to want some reassurance for such a random attraction. “To an extent, I know you - of course I know you, but we don’t really know each other.”

Tom paused, looking at you and blinking a couple times, his teeth gnawing on the inside of his lip, unsure where such a confession could head, or even if he wanted it to go anywhere. He was not one to validate another’s feelings out the goodness of his heart, that is even if he had one. “You are right, you do not know me.”

You looked at him with a confused expression, now concerned that you had managed to push him to a point of finality, and that this was the dreaded part where he’d tell you to leave his dorm and never speak to him again. You had tried to know him, everyone always did, but even a man who is kind, and gentle is still a man, and men are too hesitant to show any emotions, especially Tom.

Everyone knew of Riddle’s upbringing, many of them praised him for not turning his experiences of evil into the definition of his life, that even while he had carried so many burdens at such a ripe age, he had not become the worst version as to appease those who had caused him harm. Growing up in a place where love becomes filtered and handed out with a lock and key is known to be difficult, it would have driven even the sanest man to his wits end; so everyone was glad Tom was not alike to those depictions. Or at least, happy that they didn’t get to see much an attitude of semblance from the boy they looked up to.

“I apologise for not letting you know me, forgive me,” He looks at you, tilting his head to the side in hopes to garner your attention. He was to spoon feed you all of which you wished to hear, knowing how to silence your mind and mouth with a simple reassuring textbook reply. “How can I let one know me when I am such damaged good that I do not wish them to repair?”

You moved closer to him at those words, he was anything but damaged to you, perhaps a little scarred, but never enough to be irreparable, he could give you a matchstick and glue, and you would find a way to help him out at the very call of his ask. You never thought he would see you as viewing him as a charity case, you never thought as such. “I do not wish to fix you, Tom,” you looked at him dead in the eyes, giving him an expression of pure intent, wanting these words to be sewn into his very being so he is forever minded of them. “I just desire an understanding. I want to see deep into your soul, a dive into your psyche, I want to see the world in the colours that you do.”

“And what if it is black and white?”

You lean forward, holding out your hands for his, taking his larger, rougher ones in your own. “I will help you see the vibrance, but only if you allow me to.”

Checkmate.

Your innocence had lead you away from questioning his intentions, and worrying about that of what you do know know about him. Rather instead, it had mapped out a pathway back to the beginning, he could continue spinning this meticulously planned web, and all while doing so, not allow you to see those hidden parts of him that you are so desperate to witness. You had fallen into his trap.

He nods in reply, slowly and surely as to string out the emotional value of this manipulation. He never felt bad when making your circle your feeling and thoughts, it was better to protect you from that version of him you were so desperate to know. No singular person deserves to know him.

He is your Tom. It is not faux, it is purely a fabrication of who he is, you see a side of him that could have existed had he not chosen such a life for himself as he had now.

You are the light in all’s lives to lead them the right direction, that is the purpose of such an angelic existence. But for Tom, you were the illuminations of his dark thoughts, brightening up the pathway in which he wishes to go, showing him how to get away with the things that he would have before done in the shadows alone. It was because of you that he could get away with such atrocities. He could plan to burn the world, because you are his flame, he could end the lives of many with the bullet of a gun, and still never be found out, because you are the silencer on the end of the barrel. He’d trapped you in such an intricate way, and perhaps he was fond of you, but not enough to remove his life’s ambitions from his purpose.

He will forever be the world’s Voldemort.

#harry potter #slytherin boys react #slytherin #slytherin boys #theodore nott #draco malfoy #blaise zabini #mattheo riddle #lorenzo berkshire #tom riddle

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intrepidacious · 3 days ago

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occupy my brain [4]

series summary: Being Harlan Thrombey’s research assistant would be the perfect summer job if it weren’t for his grandson.

pairing: ransom drysdale x f!reader

word count: 1.8k

chapter warnings: heavily implied smut; ransom being his usual asshole self; the repercussions of chapter 3 😏 please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.

a/n: these chapters keep getting longer and someone needs to stop me to be quite honest. or maybe don't. this was a fun one 🤭

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

searching for redemption

It had been a few days since the incident, and your mind couldn't stop replaying that night. It was like you were stuck on a loop. Every time you closed your eyes, you could feel his hands on you again. His lips.

And when your own hands traveled down your body, you couldn't replicate the sensations those memories brought you. The frantic clashing of your bodies against each other, the heat, the sounds.

It was maddening.

The last thing you needed right now was an unhealthy obsession with the memory of Ransom fucking Drysdale's dick.

You'd have to quit. You'd have to leave the country. You were still thanking your lucky stars that Harlan Thrombey hadn't said anything about the state of you the morning after, when you arrived at your meeting late and in a very wrinkled shirt. You'd wanted to die.

The man wrote detective novels, for crying out loud. It didn't exactly take Sherlock Holmes to deduce what you'd been up to the night before.

The one silver lining was that Ransom was still as unwilling to get any actual work done as ever, and so you'd been pretty successful at evading him. Apart from a couple of research-related texts exchanged between the two of you, you hadn't heard from him at all; and even though your own messages were bordering on passive-aggressive, his stayed surprisingly, and thankfully, innuendo-free.

You just wanted to forget any of it had ever happened.

There were only a few weeks left of your run at Blood and Wine, and then you never had to see him again at all. You'd never been more grateful for your semester schedule picking up immediately after break. After sinking a couple of eighty-hour weeks into lab reports and essays and analyses, you'd be back to normal again.

Everything was going to be fine.

Except there were still a few weeks left of your run at Blood and Wine, and when you left the lab building on Friday afternoon to catch a ride home with your friend, her car wasn't anywhere on the parking lot. Instead, you could see a beat-up BMW and a certain dark-haired asshole leaning against it.

Heat rushed to your cheeks immediately at the sight of him. His lips were twisted into his usual scowl as he scrolled through his phone. It wasn’t bright enough outside to warrant wearing sunglasses, and yet Mr Pretentious did it anyway.

"What are you doing here?" you called out, stopping a couple of paces away from him.

Ransom put his phone away, and even though you couldn't see his eyes you could feel his gaze dragging up and down your body lazily. You ground your teeth.

"We've been summoned," he finally said. "Don't you ever check your phone?"

As a matter of fact, you hadn't in a while; labs made you forget all concept of time, particularly with the amount of reports you'd had to finish. You found an e-mail from Harlan Thrombey marked urgent as well as several missed calls from [Don't even think about it] and a message from your friend telling you she'd left without you after "your asshole guy told me u had plans. use protection!!"

"How did you even know where I was, anyway?" you asked, putting your phone away again without deigning to answer that particular text.

"I asked nicely."

You snorted.

"Can we go or do you wanna wait here until you take root?"

"Right now?" you said reluctantly.

"Right now," Ransom drawled. "Get in."

So much for your evening plans of watching a couple of episodes of your favorite show and eating sushi in bed. With a groan, you climbed into his car. It smelled surprisingly nice in here, like worn-out leather and some expensive air freshener and, well, Ransom.

Hot breaths and sticky skin and low moans and—

The engine roared to a start and you quickly turned away to put your seatbelt on. It was a twenty minute drive to the Thrombey estate, and you spent the first half of it staring out of the window, ignoring the man behind the wheel. You weren't sure what you were waiting for; some snide remark, probably, an excuse for you to rip into him like you usually would and leave everything that had happened between you behind for good.

"You're being awfully quiet today."

When you looked at him, he was staring blankly at the road ahead, his face unbothered. He still hadn't taken off his sunglasses, even though the lights were pretty low now. Prick.

"Because this is weird," you said.

He put the blinker on, every movement nonchalant. "Why?"

You rolled your eyes. "You know why."

The pause that followed was long enough it almost let you hope he'd just drop it and you'd be off the hook. You could just move through the uncomfortable air between you and continue working together as history's worst team until you could finally part ways.

"Do you always get like this or has it been a while?"

Then again, always lovely to be reminded how much you hated the guy.

"You know what, I'm not even going to answer that," you said sharply.

"The second one, then."

"It's none of your business, Ransom."

"No," he said and readjusted his glasses. "It was fun, though."

"Fuck you."

He stayed silent for the rest of the drive, but the smug energy still radiated off him. You entertained yourself by thinking about murder.

*~*~*

"Ransom, take those glasses off," Harlan said as soon as you sat down in his office.

You gave Ransom a look that said told you so; you'd had that discussion just minutes earlier.

"No thanks," he answered, leaning back in his chair. "What did you want to talk about?"

Harlan sighed heavily. "Off now or so help me god, I'm going to write you out of my will after all."

There were a couple of angry red splotches forming on Ransom's neck, right above the spot where you knew you'd left your mark on him, which was just hidden by the collar of his sweater today. With another gruff sound, he finally pulled his sunglasses off.

You swallowed your gasp down.

"What happened with you?"

Ransom raised his chin to look his grandfather straight in the eye; it made the shadows fall on his face in a way that made the dark bruise stand out even more.

"I fell," he said dryly, his features made of stone.

You didn't hear Harlan's reply; you barely took anything from the meeting, even though you felt yourself nodding, agreeing to consider a couple of different things in your research for the remainder of your work time. Later, you even found a couple of notes you'd taken on your phone.

Your thoughts were swirling and you didn't even know why. It was all very confusing.

Only when you got back to Ransom's car, because of course you'd had to agree to him driving you again, that one thing crystallized for you clear as day: you were furious with him.

"You fell, huh?" you said sharply.

"That's what I said."

"Bullshit someone else, Drysdale. What did you do?"

"Why do you care?" he said, tilting his head. "Because we fucked one time?"

Your face was burning. "Sorry for trying to be a decent human being."

You crawled into the passenger seat and slammed the door shut behind you, which really didn't have the intended effect when he was getting in on the other side just moments later.

Neither of you spoke this time. You were staring at your own reflection in the car window, still fuming; that's why it took you until the car slowed down that you weren't even in the area of your apartment building.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to ice my face," he said, turning off the engine, "and then I'm going to sleep."

"Hey!" You got out of the car after him, face incredulous. "You said you were gonna drive me home!"

"I said I'd drive you. I did. If you don't wanna stay, call yourself an uber."

Drowning. Strangulation. Multiple lacerations to his thorax.

"You're such a prick."

"Where have I heard that one before?"

You followed him into the entrance hall because damn him, you were not going to stand out there in the middle of the night and hope for an uber to be in the vicinity.

"Brighten up, sunshine," he said, another way too smug expression on his face. "You need to learn how to relax."

"What the hell is wrong with you?" you hissed, throwing one of your shoes at him.

"Jesus, what—I should be the one asking you that."

You threw the second shoe. "I’m not the one driving you insane!"

"You sure about that?" His voice was low, almost raspy, and your gaze snapped to his, almost involuntarily. His eyes seemed to bore straight into your soul, like he was searching for something.

Slowly, he stepped closer to you, his hands roughly grabbing your face. Still, the way he pulled you towards him was almost gentle, his gaze heavy with something you couldn’t pin down. At last, your faces were merely inches apart. You couldn’t breathe.

Then, finally, his lips found yours again, softer this time but no less demanding. You clasped your hands around his neck to keep your balance when he started walking towards you, making you blindly stumble backwards, his arms securely around you when you almost tripped over something on the floor. You didn’t care to open your eyes.

You hissed when your calves hit the stairs sharpy, the pain almost enough to break the spell he put you under. "Ransom—" you tried.

He huffed disapprovingly, his grip tightening, and then he continued walking you up the stairs, letting you lean on him just enough to not lose your balance, the hunger in his eyes growing even as he noticed the uncertainty in yours.

Getting to the second floor took moments. It took hours. His mouth found that spot on your neck again and you shuddered, your grip on him tightening.

"We shouldn't—" You gasped when he nipped at your shoulder. "Shouldn't we talk about this?"

"Do you want to talk?" he snarled, his hands wandering down to your ass. "Or do you want to stop thinking for once in your life and let me make you cum enough times you won't be able to walk tomorrow?"

You grabbed a fistful of his hair and tugged his head backwards until he hissed, forcing him to look at you. The bruise around his eye looked even angrier up close, and you inexplicably found yourself wanting to trace it, not to hurt him more but to soothe.

Instead, you swallowed it down. "Promises, promises," you said.

He didn't need another invitation.

thank you to everyone who voted for this chapter on my most recent poll, it was a close one!! if you want to see more of my writing, check out my masterlist or follow @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications 🧡

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale fic #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale fanfic #ransom drysdale series #knives out fanfiction #knives out fanfic #occupy my brain

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blasphemous-lies-and-deceit · 10 days ago

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"We shouldn't be here."

"Why not?" Gerry asked blithely. He knew the answer, of course‒ this section of the Institute's library was meant only for the librarians, since it was full of books of questionable content. Books off limits to most employees, but there was one in particular that Gertrude needed, which was why they were actually there. His suspicions told him that there was probably a Leitner or two among the shelves, but if he tried to burn them he'd probably earn himself a lifetime ban from the Institute. Normally that thought wouldn't phase him, but now he had a very important reason to keep returning to the Institute.

That reason was trailing behind him, one hand loosely caught in his. Michael was looking around worriedly, watching for any lurking librarians, but Gerry could barely bring himself to care about them. He was far more occupied with Michael's warm fingers wrapped around his, the feeling of his hand holding his, how novel and new and exciting that was. Michael had initiated it, just like he'd initiated the very intense makeout session several nights ago that had been occupying Gerry's mind ever since. Everything about Michael made him feel like he was slowly crumbling into bits, in the very best way. Like he was falling apart but Michael was catching every single piece of him with a caring smile and welcoming hands. He almost couldn't believe it, and yet, he hadn't scared Michael off‒ not with his attitude or his warnings or the explanation about their reality. He was still there. He was still holding his hand.

"I mean…" Michael looked around nervously as they passed between two shelves. "We don't have permission to be in this section. If we're caught‒"

"Are you planning on being caught?" Gerry asked, checking the placard on the nearest bookshelf and continuing on. The library, at least, was reasonably organized, unlike a certain Archives he knew of. "Listen, I'm an expert on sneaking into places to get books I'm not supposed to have. I know what I'm doing here." Michael managed to grin at his confidence, just as he'd hoped. "You can always say Gertrude sent you. They won't question that."

"I suppose…" Michael still sounded uncertain, so Gerry squeezed his hand comfortingly.

"And it's not like you can be fired," he continued. "I don't know if I mentioned that‒ you can't leave the Institute if you work in the Archives. Can't quit, can't be fired, can't leave it for very long‒"

"Wait, what?!" Oops, he must not have mentioned that. Michael sounded completely and justifiedly outraged, coming to an abrupt halt between two shelves, his hand tightening around Gerry's. "How does that work? Is that some clause in my contract? Why didn't anyone tell me that?" His face screwed up in anger, eyebrows furrowed and mouth pulled into an uncharacteristic frown. "Why didn't Sarah or Emma or Gertrude ever mention that? They know too, right? Is that something else they didn't tell me?" Michael's outrage faltered, his expression turning more upset than angry. "Why didn't they tell me?" he whispered.

Gerry bit his lip, wanting to comfort Michael but feeling completely out of his depth. This wasn't something he was used to, or good at, but it was Michael, looking so betrayed it was breaking his heart. It wasn't fair that someone as sweet as him was treated so cruelly. "I don't know why they didn't tell you," Gerry said, although he had a suspicion. And it'd be wrong not to share that with Michael. "I don't know if they were trying to keep you ignorant to spare you or…if there was some other reason. A bad kind of reason."

Michael's expression shifted to shock, his pained eyes latching onto Gerry's face. "I'm sorry you have to learn this way," Gerry continued, feeling true sincerity tightening his throat, "but they're not as trustworthy as you think. Gertrude always has her own plans and schemes, just like my mum did. She'll do whatever needs to be done, even if there's sacrifices made along the way. And Carpenter and Harvey‒ I don't know what they're up to, but not telling you about the Entities was…wrong. It's wrong." Gerry scoffed ruefully, shaking his head, eyes on the floor. "It's pretty bad when someone as morally skewed as me can tell how fucked up that is."

"But you're the one who told me," Michael refuted, stepping back into Gerry's space and taking both his hands in his, his eyes sharp and focused on his face. "You told me and it…it fits, somehow, in my head; it just fits, and I believe you." He sucked in a deep breath, eyes bright and blinking. "It's so wrong but it feels…right."

"That's probably the Eye's influence," Gerry told him, feeling so caught by his gaze that he almost wasn't concerned about that. God, he really wanted to kiss him again, but it really wasn't the right time. "You need to be careful, you don't want to end up like Gertrude."

"I won't be," Michael swore. "I won't." A hint of his usual sweet smile teased at his lips, so lovely to see. "I hope…I hope you'll stick around to make sure that doesn't happen."

"I will." The promise shot out of Gerry without him even needing to think about it. He knew Michael would never be like Gertrude, but he also knew he still wanted to be around him anyway. Michael's smile grew, beaming down at him, and Gerry felt himself crumple just a little more for him.

The creaking of a distant door had them scrambling for the shadows in the back of the room, tucking themselves in the space between two shelves. It was a very narrow space, and Gerry found himself pressed to Michael's front, his face level with his prominent collarbones. Gerry was completely distracted by that, and by Michael's hand in the small of his back, keeping him tucked in close. They were…very close.

Michael didn't even seem to notice the compromising position he'd put Gerry in, his attention entirely on the sounds of someone else moving around the room, not even anywhere close to them. Gerry couldn't give a shit about the other person, trying not to lose himself in the odd embrace, every trembling breath filling his nose with the smell of Michael, making him want to plunge forward and take even more of him in. His dreams had been full of situations just like this, ever since they'd first shared a bed and especially after their alleyway kiss. All of his thoughts were simply Michael, Michael, only him and nothing more.

"I think they're gone," Michael whispered after a few minutes of silence. Gerry hummed agreement, completely distracted by a large freckle at the base of Michael's neck. Michael tilted his head down towards him, seeming to finally realize the situation they were in. He giggled, blushing furiously and adorably. His free hand came up to touch Gerry's chin, gently tilting his head up so they were face to face.

"We seem to keep finding ourselves in situations like this, don't we?" he said softly, eyes dropping to lock onto Gerry's lips. Gerry barely nodded, caught in Michael's hold, aching with every fiber of his being. He really wanted Michael to kiss him again. And it seemed like Michael felt the same, his head dipping down towards him before stopping just before they touched.

"Gerry, can I?" he asked.

"Please," Gerry whimpered, and was given exactly what he wanted.

It was nothing like their wild, passionate first kiss. It was so soft, so slow and sweet, like he was something Michael wanted to savor and indulge in. Gerry felt his knees threatening to buckle, leaving him entirely held up by Michael as he kissed him back as best as he could. He fisted his hands in Michael's sweater vest, holding on for dear life as Michael guided him along in the kiss, far more steady and certain than Gerry felt. He was taking his time with it, like they weren't tucked into a dark corner of a room they shouldn't be in, just waiting to be caught. Michael's lips curiously teased his lip piercing, catching it between his teeth and tugging softly, and the bolt of feeling that shot through Gerry ended in a moan that seemed to surprise them both.

Michael pulled back, which was bad, but he was giggling, which was wonderful to hear. His hand still cupped his chin, fingers stroking his cheek, his eyes warm as he gazed into Gerry's. "I've wanted to do that again for ages," he breathed. Gerry could feel his breath brushing across his tingling lips. "Especially after the alleyway." He ducked down again, but instead of a kiss he brushed his nose tenderly against Gerry's. That was somehow even more intimate than the kiss, and Gerry moaned again, just as involuntarily as before.

"Me too," he struggled to say, as Michael fell into giggles. "I…that's…that's what I wanted, too." He couldn't think of any other way to voice the aching, painful desire in his chest, so strong he could barely breathe past it. He wanted much more than kisses, so much more. Almost more than he could dare hope for. But god, his dreams seemed to be closer to reality than they ever had before, since Michael smiled so happily and kissed him again, and again, each as sweet as the one before.

"We're supposed to be looking for a book," Michael reminded him between kisses. It really sounded like he didn't particularly care about the book, his hands still warm and firm and keeping Gerry pressed close. Without opening his eyes or turning his head, Gerry reached over to one of the shelves that were closing them in and pulled that particular book from it, pressing it to Michael's chest and continuing to kiss him. He didn't give a single damn about the book, or about being caught. It was only Michael, and keeping him safe and informed, and being able to kiss him even more. And maybe, if he dared hope, even more than that.

#the magnus archives #tma fanfic #gerry keay #michael shelley #gerrymichael #rebelwriting

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heyidkyay · 1 year ago

Text

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Ten

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way?

Authors Note: It was in the drafts and it's been a while so I thought I'd post. Might not hear from me for a bit though after this, so I hope you like the next part. Thank you for all the love on this one.

Masterlist

A warm bout of light filtered into the bedroom through a small gap in the curtains. It gave the space a sepia feel, tinting the light bedding and walls a warm hazel colour. Creating a haze of skittering beams above me.

It wasn't much, the room. It simply held the necessities I thought I needed seeing as I didn't spend too much of my time in it, other than when I needed to dress or sleep. I’ve really had too many other things occupying my time during the past few years that have kept me from worrying over the state of it.

There was a rickety old dresser, which sat in the far corner and had been something I'd picked up during my time at uni. Student accommodation had been lacking and so Finn had decided, quite early on I might add, that it would be in our best interest to find ourselves some cheap furniture to fill it with.

In truth, we’d actually had to lug the pesky thing all the way down a dual-carriageway and across a roundabout, after having spotted it advertised in the window of our local offy. It held a good few memories though, like when the pair of us had jumped up onto it at the first sight of an eight-legged pal, or the time I’d walked in to find him getting railed over its top.

Then there was the large mahogany wardrobe that had been purchased from a wholesaler not very long after I had finally gotten a newly born Teddy settled into the tiny flat I'd rented out in Hackney.

It had been cramped, what with the bathroom having been the size of a broom cupboard and the only bedroom having led straight into our ‘fun-sized’ kitchen. But we'd made it work. In fact, it had practically been a Godsend during those nightly feeds- six steps and I’d been right by the cooker!

The wardrobe had been a much needed purchase though, and one of the first things I had bought solely for myself since I’d moved out of mam’s.

Then there was the side table, sat next to the one edge of my bed that hadn't been backed into a wall, which held a reading light, a three wicked candle and a couple of novels with folded and refolded receipts sticking out the sides as page markers.

I had garnered quite the collection of books, I could admit, all of which seemed to line up haphazardly on the opposite wall. I tended to smile whenever I caught sight of its heavy shelves, a reminder of all the havoc that had gone into them whilst putting them up. It had taken me three whole days, and even though they were still a tad lopsided, I still gazed upon them in pride.

A woeful plant burdened my windowsill, a slither of its olive coloured pot barely seen from behind the billowing beige curtains. Whilst cushions sat in disarray across the hardwood floor below, having been tossed every which way the night previous.

There were dirty clothes in the hamper by the half-opened door and a basket of clean, partially folded, washing in a chair sitting beside the wardrobe.

The room wasn't completely tidy, but not a tip either.

Humming groggily to myself, I began to stir from the deep sleep I’d lost myself in and used the ball of my palm to rub tiredly at my eye just as a furrowed line creased between my brows.

It was far too quiet, I deemed, and must've been later than usual too because Teddy normally had us both up long before the crack arse of dawn. So I sniffed once and then went to turn over, just to check the time as I always did, but couldn't stop the way I stilled completely at the sight that greeted me.

Because in bed, right beside me, laid another body. One hidden deep beneath the weighted duvet and my favoured blanket, but a body nonetheless.

Shit.

It appeared in the remaining foggy haze of last night, I had quite simply forgotten about the man I'd invited back home. And into my bed, it seemed. As well as the ill-timed events that had led up to it, too.

My breath hitched when the man suddenly moved in his sleep and I did my very fucking best not to express any of my thoughts or feelings outwardly. Desperate not to actually rouse the sleeper.

Instead, I inhaled. Once, then twice. Before finally, I gathered enough courage and strength to slowly inch myself all the way down to the very end of the bed. Mindful not to drag the duvet down with me.

Once I was standing- still fully clothed, I might tack on (thank you to small miracles!)- I allowed myself a second to just peer down and admire the dark, curling locks that now sprawled across my pale pillowcase. As well as the slither of skin which poked out from beneath the bed sheets.

In all honesty, I couldn't actually recall the last time I'd shared my space like this, so freely it almost felt effortless.

Quickly though, I blinked myself out of those sorts of thoughts and took another, much needed, deep breath. The flat was still as quiet as it had been a moment prior, but I was careful to tread incredibly lightly when I turned to grab the nearest set of clean clothes. Then, cautiously, I started to tiptoe my way out of the bedroom.

Standing in the hallway, with a wooden door now planted firmly between me and my overnight guest, I threw my head back in silent ire. Questioning just how, why! I had gotten myself into a situation this stress inducing, a situation I had not been in since my days at uni. I could only just begin to imagine how this would all pan out once everyone was finally wide awake and Teddy had-

Oh God, Teddy!

It was painfully embarrassing to admit that I had just about worked myself into a right state before it finally hit me that Teddy was, in fact, still with Finn. At his flat, not even ten minutes away, and not down the hall, sleeping in the same space as a fucking strange bloke he’d never even set eyes on.

So with that anxiety riddled train of thought now settled, I found that I was ultimately calmer and took a deep breath before resolving to head off to the loo before anything else happened to occur. Or before I sent myself into another full blown panic attack.

I wandered down the rest of the hall into the bathroom and went about my business before stripping out of last night’s clothes. I couldn't stop myself from wincing at the laddered tights I’d since tugged off, those which would surely have to go straight in the bin, and then stepped into a pair of well-worn joggers as well as a newer jumper I’d found during the early summer sales.

It was a long and thoughtful process that had me deciding that I should start on a pot of tea, because if I couldn't sneak my way out of this entire affair via the front door, then tea would simply have to do. Us Brits, hey?

But first, I needed to find my phone.

The thing wasn't too hard to locate. I found it lying on the kitchen counter when I walked in, charging, and did my best to recall the events of the previous night as I puttered around to fill the kettle.

There had been the phone call.

Then Finn taking Teddy.

The tube ride to the bar.

Ronan... As well as everyone else.

And then, Matty had appeared out of nowhere and turned my entire sodding night on its head.

"Christ." I heard myself grumble under my breath, feeling as though I had aged an entire year in a single night.

The hangover I was now supposed to be nursing was teetering around the edges of my mind, a headache oncoming I reckoned seeing as though my shock had hit it clean off onto the verge upon waking up. But still, I found myself rubbing at my temples for a brief second before splaying my palms out on the cold counter in an attempt to calm my brewing emotions.

"Could tell you a few ways to reach him, but I don't reckon he's the sort to make house calls..."

I startled at the sound of the unexpected voice and snapped my head straight up to find Matty standing in the doorway to my kitchen. The man had apparently foregone trousers, choosing instead to make up for the lack of material on his bottom half with a pair of thick socks and an oversized jumper I knew had been draped across my dresser only moments earlier.

I couldn't find it in himself to complain though, not that I would've. Matty looked far too indecent standing there, morning light illuminating his milky skin and shadowing his already dark, tousled hair, watching me through bleary eyes.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" Is what I chose to reply with, heartbeat still a little erratic, pulsing in the curve of my throat. I reached a hand up to tug on an earring, the other arm moving to wrap its way around my torso.

Matty’s lip quirked upwards when he stepped further into the room, just as the kettle whistled away to a boil.

"You're alright." He waved off, and shook his head lightly as he made his way over to where two mugs had since been placed on the counter. Two mugs I’d put down without much thought as to whether or not he was sticking around long enough for a brew.

Still, I hadn’t needed to fret over it, seeing as I was forced to watch on as Matty brewed the tea himself; popping a tea bag into each cup and steeping them in hot water. He then cocked a questioning brow in my direction which startled me into motion.

"Sugar’s in the tin.” I told him softly, pointing in its direction, “You'll have to make do with skimmed milk though I'm afraid, got none of that oat shit."

Matty snorted in retort and crossed the floor to open the fridge, looking almost too at home in my austere, little kitchen. Especially when the jumper he wore rid high enough up his thighs to expose the edging of his tight, black boxers.

I looked away.

"Might be a bigshot, babe, but a decent cuppa means actual milk." Matty tutted, paying no mind to the homage of colourful drawings on my fridge door as it rattled shut, and then returned to his station to pour an ungodly amount of milk into one mug. He hovered the bottle over the other.

"Just a splash, please. No sugar." I told him quietly and he hummed in turn, stirring methodically before he fished the teabags out and into the bin.

I took my mug rather cautiously once Matty had picked up his own and taken perch on top of my countertop, feeling a bout of unease at seeing the singer so comfortable in my humble home. What must he think of it all?

I tried not to stress anymore than I already had and took a small sip instead, looking at the way the man opposite fiddled with the old school radio that resided on the closest shelf. It was something I'd brought along with me from back home, it had belonged to one of my grandfathers, I wasn't sure which, but it tended to soothe me whenever I cooked in the late evenings, or during the long nights when Teddy was up all hours.

The warm tea soothed my dry throat and eased some of that tension I still had coiled in the line of my shoulders, enough so that I felt the need to start up another conversation just to fill the lingering silence.

My tongue darted out to wet my bottom lip and then I cleared my throat, cradling the hot mug in my hands.

"So, about last night..."

I was overall quite surprised to see the way Matty's entire mood immediately shifted upon hearing my opener. His lethargic demeanour- mostly down to having just woken up- stiffened entirely and sharpened his tired eyes and soft lips.

"Last night." Parroted Matty, voice low and tinged with a slight rasp that I hadn't paid much attention to a minute ago. It held power, though toneless.

I paused, if only for a moment to weigh my next words. It was important that Matty understood that last night had been a bit of an overreaction on my part, that I’d misstepped whilst drunk, and not something other. I couldn’t deal with any of that right now, if ever. No one needed to know the extent of what had gone down.

"Ronan, he's... well, he's just always been a bit protective."

Matty stared back at me, his face utterly blank. Enough so that I actually startled slightly when he scoffed. It was a loud sound that echoed off the tiles, before his jaw set sternly and his narrowed eyes met my own. “Hang on, you're actually choosing to defend that dickhead?"

I blinked in return, gaping in truth, at the realisation that I’d completely forgotten the fact that I'd explained much of what had happened, drunkenly, to Matty on the cab ride home. The same journey which had ended with not only Matty escorting me up to my front door but me also inviting him inside.

Couldn’t he have just been a gentleman and declined? Left me to choke on my own sick and perhaps allow me to die with the little dignity I’d had left?

It wasn't anything like most would've probably imagined though, the whole me asking him up thing, that much I knew. My intentions hadn't been anywhere near illustrious and I certainly hadn't set out to lure the illusive singer into my bed. I’d merely wanted some company after all that had happened that night is all, scared to be alone with the guilt, even.

Which was honestly a first for me. It had always been so much easier for me to just deal with my many thoughts and complicated emotions alone, behind closed doors and far, far from judgement.

It seemed that the alcohol had addled my mind slightly.

I couldn’t help the sigh I gave then, nor the way I curled up further into the wooden chair I’d since sat in.

"No, just-"

Matty scoffed again, this time cutting me off completely. "Well, it sounds as though you are, darling."

I went to argue but found I couldn't- not that Matty gave me much of an opportunity to though. No, the man simply stampeded on, didn’t he?

Were all rock stars this pigheaded?

"I mean, for fucks sake, Mouse! What were you thinking? I've met my fair share of arseholes but he was no doubt one of the biggest, toed right in line beside me when I was off my face, in truth. He was so fucking arrogant, controlling and- moody! My God, he was a downright moody prick, too. And those were just my thoughts before seeing the aftermath of what went down at the end of the night!”

He shook his head vehemently.

"And protective, really Squeaks? I'm sorry to say this, babe, honest I am, but you might need a reality check, mate. He was downright possessive. Glaring at you the entire night only to try and stake his claim the second you were alone."

I gritted my teeth, unhappy with the way Matty had portrayed everything.

"He's a friend!" I tried to defend but Matty, who had since quietly settled his mug down in spite of his obvious anger, jumped off the counter and stepped forward.

"More like deranged!" He spat back, "I saw you! I was fucking there! I had to look into your eyes, see the blinding panic, the fear. Don't tell me that he's a friend, not when he caused a reaction like that. I mean, you can be intimidating when you want to be- all sweet like, subdued, and intelligent. You're all these fascinating things rolled up into one oversized jumper, and yet, you let someone like him walk all over you? Treat you like you're his property or something." He scoffed once more, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe the words he was having to spew.

I stared long and hard into his dark eyes before I couldn't stand to any longer, instead I turned away to blow out an unsteady breath.

Matty was right, I knew that much, alright? But it didn't mean I had to enjoy having to admit to that. Having someone else in on a secret I’d kept for so long, one I hadn't even realised I’d been keeping, not really. It all just felt like a little too much to be dealing with all at once and so early in the morning to boot. Because in actuality, I didn't want to face up to the fact that I had actually allowed someone to treat me that way. To know that other people had finally been a witness to it. Seen me that weak.

I had vowed long ago to never let another person put me in such a state of vulnerability. But here I was, a-fucking-gain.

I heard Matty sigh before socked feet dragged closer and I felt a gentle hand come to rest at the bow of my elbow. He sighed again, softer this time though, when I only continued to stare resolutely out of the kitchen window.

"I'm sorry for blowing my top, yeah? I just- it annoys me, to see you wash your hands of it so easily. As though you believed what he'd done was okay."

I swallowed thickly.

"You deserve better than that, okay?" Matty added.

I had to glance up at the ceiling to blink away the mist in my eyes, but did finally dip my head in silent acknowledgement, pulling away slightly so that I could take a moment to gather myself.

Matty didn't move when I crossed the kitchen floor to riffle through my cupboards, rooted to the ground almost, but he was spurred into action only a few seconds later.

I’d just placed a carton of eggs on the side and moved to turn on the hob when the old radio stuttered to a start. It let that silence I so hated fade away, and gave me the kick I needed to carry on.

"How'd you like your eggs?" I asked, and felt more than saw Matty’s relieved smile. He just had a way of taking up all the space in a room, as though he were its own gravitational pull and everyone else just had to be aware of his every cue.

I hid my own, however tiny smile, as best I could.

"Fried. Got any bacon?"

And just like that, things evened out and our 'talk' was seemingly long forgotten. To be honest, I actually got so caught up in the normality of it all, the radio playing, the sidestepping, the easy smiles, that I completely forgot about the world around us. Everyone else that lived beyond these four walls.

It was just as we’d finished up eating and Matty had jumped up to grab our plates, that a familiar alert sounded. I glanced away and was reminded that life had in fact continued on without us.

I hurried over to where my phone was still sat on the side and worried at my lower lip when I saw the many notifications which lined the dimming screen. The newest was from Finn.

Messages now Finnleyyy Awake yet drunkard? Got a little man here ready to head home, well fed and only a little dirty!

It was instantaneous the way my gaze darted up to where Matty was now standing by the sink, only a tad surprised to find him making an attempt at the washing up. He must've felt my eyes on him though because he turned to flash me a grin over his right shoulder a second later. I tried my best to smile back, but the thought of Teddy meeting Matty, and of Matty meeting Teddy... just didn't sit quite well with me.

My thumbs flew their way across the screen to type up a speedy reply.

Messages now Just woke up Sort of got a visitor? And before you start, no it wasn't like that, but I promise to tell you more when you get here Can you give me half hour??

It was only a little embarrassing, having to mention my overnight guest, especially whilst knowing it was the same man Finn had been blatantly teasing me about these past few weeks, but I really didn't want to have these two parts of my life crossover. Not right now.

With everything I understood about Matty and his past, I had to be certain that he was the kind of person I wanted my son to be around. The kind of person my son was safe to be around. And I was nowhere near sure where I currently was on that scale.

Matty was unreliable. His job had him everywhere and nowhere at once, up all hours of the day, and on a bus most months out of the year. That was something I really had to consider here.

Because I really was just trying to be brutally honest with myself. No matter how genuine Matty might've seemed in his recent efforts, I also knew that he was bound to get bored of our dubious friendship sooner or later, and that Teddy tended to get rather attached quite quickly. And I wouldn't stand by and watch my son get hurt when Matty finally chose to walk away. It was tough, him only having so few people constantly around, I wished so greatly that I could give him the big family I’d always dreamed of, but new people always had me so weary.

I breathed out a quiet sigh of relief when Finn finally messaged back giving me the okay, as well as the expected hard time.

Messages now Finnleyyy Ah I'll be sure to rinse you of every detail, you lazy sod! And Teds will be fine, we'll stop off at the park on our way over

Matty popped up right beside me then, just as I exited my messages, and I was merely thankful that I'd managed to avoid him seeing anything that could have led to questions. In an attempt to both evade and act casual, I scrolled down further to see who else had texted.

"Anything interesting?"

I blinked up at him, mouth now suddenly agape, then to my screen, then back up at him.

"Erm, you might want to see this." I told Matty as I all but threw my mobile into his hands.

The Sun 07:34 HOTHEAD HEALY IS BACK AND MAKING HEADLINES WITH DARK HAIRED BEAUTY

MTV 08:02 MATTY HEALY SPOTTED AT LONDON BAR WITH NEW FLING!

The Mirror 08:11 A WILD NIGHT OUT ON THE TOWN FOR 1975 SINGER AND FRIENDS TURNS SOUR

In all the new texts I’d gotten Jamie had been the one to send the first few articles, but one seemingly spiralled into another, like a spider spinning its deceitful web.

Matty’s sudden bout of boisterous laughter startled me though, the sound so unexpected, and I shot a hasty look over to find an amused smile dancing on his lips whilst he shook his head.

"Erm," I attempted, but stopped there when I realised I didn't quite have the words, or rather no actual clue on what to say.

"Same old story." Matty told me, shrugging it off as though him being pictured simply standing next to Indra, the friend of a friend from last night, in a crowded bar was enough to warrant such a spectacle.

"But you barely said two words to her!" I retorted when Matty handed me back my phone, surprised by his utter nonchalance.

He only shrugged again! "All publicity's good publicity, and all that crap. Besides, I know the truth, the people who matter know the truth," He dipped his chin over at me then for some reason, "And so does she. They'll find something, or someone else, to hound soon enough."

"What, so it really doesn't bother you then? Being made out to be this person you're not."

"A slag, you mean?" Matty teased as a mischievous smile limned his lips.

Tutting, I could only roll my eyes at him before I forced myself to my feet and wandered over to the sink. The bigshot singer made an abrupt noise of indignation when he realised that I really did intend to redo all of his hard work.

"Oi, I already did those!"

I couldn’t hide my smirk as I rinsed the plates off properly, honestly glad for the distraction. "And you did quite well, what with it being your first try."

Matty scowled halfheartedly, but I took note of the faint blush that flushed the back of his neck. Seemed like I wasn't too far off in my assumption.

"So, what did Jamie have to say about it all then?" Matty quipped, swiftly changing the subject.

I let him have it, not saying a word more on the topic before I went to dry my hands. "What I think you mean to ask is, why did he text me?"

"Well, yeah." Matty replied with another single shoulder shrug, "How did he even know that we were together?"

"Made a good guess?" I supplied simply when I found that I didn't really have the answer to that particular question.

But privately, I reckoned that maybe Jamie hadn't realised that Matty and I had been together at all. I hadn't been photographed in any articles, from what I'd seen at least, and neither me nor Matty had had any contact with him until right now.

Maybe Jamie had just wanted to let me in on what was happening, on the know, perhaps he'd wanted someone to rant or share his frustrations with. It wouldn't have been the first time.

So I made a mental note to message him again later, when Matty was long gone and I had time to stew on all of this.

"Enough about him anyway, what are you up to today?" Matty asked me as he jumped backup into the counter. I consciously avoided looking at the way his thighs pressed against the granite, the tattoos that marked the length of his skin.

"Apart from bleaching your arse off of my countertops?" I snarked back and snorted when Matty merely wiggled his arse in retort, "I've got a couple of things to sort today."

"Work things?"

I hummed my general assent but avoided meeting Matty’s eye, not wanting to outright lie. I really did have plans though, plans to waste the day away with Teddy, grab a late lunch, and maybe head off to the cinema to watch that new superhero film he'd been yapping on about for the past two weeks. Only, I couldn't tell any of that to Matty.

"What about you?" I asked instead (always so polite!) as I went about the kitchen, clearing away what remained of our cooking session. I'd rather get the majority done now, than fret over it later.

"Not much." Matty mumbled as he ran a fingertip along the edge of a nearby cupboard, kicking his feet up when I swept past. "Avoid Jamie, dodge a couple calls, maybe meet up with some friends. Think Ross got the new FIFA, so might bug him for a bit."

I hummed around a small smile, returning the dry cutlery back to its rightful drawer, "That Danny guy?"

Matty flashed me a knowing smile. "Mayhaps."

"Mayhaps?" I mimicked, shooting him a questioning brow.

"It's a combination of words, Squeaks. Emphasises the meaning!"

I snorted. "I'm sure."

Matty chuckled quietly to himself before he finally pushed himself off of my kitchen side and back onto his feet. "Well, I'd best get out of your hair then. Leave you to do your important work and what not."

I faked a sigh of evident relief and dodged the swat he aimed at my arm, grinning as I rounded a table chair.

"Don't act like you won't miss my Godlike presence, darling." Matty looked down his nose at me mockingly as he made his way over to the doorway.

A belly laugh bubbled up out of me upon hearing that and Matty all but lit up at the sound. "Godlike? Wow, it's nice to know that fame really does get to some people’s heads."

Matty cut his eyes at me and with a mirthful smile, flipped me off. "Dick. I'm just gonna head up and get changed. That alright?"

I dipped my head, feigning wiping down the table before I glanced up to watch him walk away, finding my smile never faltering even after Matty had disappeared from sight.

It wasn't too long later when he popped back up again though, all dressed up in a pair of expensive boots and the tight trousers he'd been wearing last night. I didn’t miss the flash of my jumper that had been hidden somewhere behind the zip of his jacket though, but I didn’t say anything, pleased that he’d taken a liking to it.

Looking at him, it didn't even seem as though he'd been out drinking all night, or that he'd just rolled out of the bed of some other. He looked rather lovely like this, still a tad bit sleepy- it was all in the crook of his smile, you see- and soft.

"Well, I'd best be off then." Matty announced from where he was now stood idling waiting in the hallway.

I propped myself up against the bannister and found myself wearing an amused smile, drinking him in. "Best be."

He grinned back over at me and just when it felt as though he was about to reach out, he stuffed one hand into his jacket pocket and pointed at me with the other. "I'll text you later, yeah? So make sure to actually reply this time, all right?"

Rather dramatically, I blew out a large breath and crossed my arms over the ball that sat atop the bannister’s wooden beam. "Seems like a hard task..."

I laughed when Matty shot me a particularly nasty glare, but relented.

"I'll be waiting on your many messages, my dear." I corrected, doing my best to feign the doting wife sending her husband off to war, even going as far as to clutch at my jumper in a pained goodbye.

"You’d better." Matty smirked and when I took a step away from the staircase, he decided to take that as his leave.

Though it was just as he was halfway out the front door that he paused and turned back to chance a glance at me, ring clad fingers toying with the latch on the inside lock.

"We might've dropped the subject but, just know, if I ever see that ginger prick near you again I will put my fist through his face hard enough that he'll be shitting out my rings." And with that Matty dipped his chin at me once and let the door swing shut behind him.

I wasn’t ashamed to say that I stood there in the silence that encompassed the house for a very long moment, before my lips finally quirked upwards and I let myself laugh.

It seemed that everyone was right, Matty Healy truly did have a way with words. Only, the wrong kind.

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tfdtreasurer · 8 months ago

Note

sorry for not asking about eridan but, why the feferi hate?

Don't worry anon I fully expected this question to be one of the first. Besides, Eridan and Feferi are foils to each other and thus any look at one is being done in the context of the other. Narratively, they're inseparable. My actual nuanced opinion on Feferi is that she's a bad person, a fascinating character, and yet one that I feel is so tragically misunderstood by everybody that it leads me to not liking how she's liked. If that makes any sense.

The short answer is she's one of the most casteist trolls out there. And not in the way Equius is, or Gamzee becomes, or Eridan claims to be. Her's is just a little too real and it kinda gives me icky vibes.

The long answer is... Well there's a reason a whole essay was in the works. If Eridan alludes to Herman Melville's novel Moby Dick of 1851, Feferi alludes to Rudyard Kipling's poem "The White Man's Burden" of 1899 (which in a semi timely way, was published to the context of the Philippine–American War). In her first pesterlog with Kanaya, "burdens" is the word used to refer to her responsibilities. Not really enough on it's own, but then you keep reading Feferi pages. Eridan being the best that alternia breeds, seemingly exiled from living in the sea to serve her captives' needs. The captivity of animals that she's associated with bolstering that. How she espouses a desire to unite the races, but mentions having plans for the throne, implicitly retaining imperial power. Her weapon being named after the triple entente, an alliance of colonialist powers. How she remarks royalty is so civilized, alluding to the colonialist projects of that era being referred to the West's civilizing mission. The way she talks to Jade and is quick to use the r-word, like she'd have to make her speech a hundred times plain. Just the way that she often has other people doing things for her that seems to emulate the delegatory voice of the poem. Eridan being the orphaner for her. In the Make her Pay flash (which is the best flash don't @ me), she has Sollux fight for her as she seems to sit back. Even her creation of the dream bubbles is something she asks of the gods to do for her. And if you think I'm searching for patterns in the clouds here with my ancient-ass 1800s literature: just take a look at the regime of Beforus Feferi. How casteism wasn't abolished, it just became patronizing the lesser and pretending that considering them lesser but in need wasn't the inequality is was.

Eridan is interesting in combination with her because they're designed to contrast each other. Eridan is so deeply associated with hipster inauthenticity, pretention, over exaggerated theater, and explicitly mentions that villainy is practically a performance for her. She calls comin off as a diabolical sort "showwmanship." But pay attention to the way that each frame dropping their quirk. Eridan drops her to become more genuine for a moment. Feferi has to be asked to drop hers and gets mad that she's had to peasantify herself. And the tragic part is that although Eridan is in the position of the audience in that poem, in essence the soldier sent to brutally occupy the Philippines, Feferi also sees her as one of the ones needing to be civilized. Eridan is to her half devil and half child, fluttering and wild, needing to be restrained by a moirallegience she seems to have never wanted from her.

I don't mean to let Eridan totally off the hook. I see her character as being under a dramatic form of siege mentality, perceiving herself to be the target of everyone's hostility. As she's the orphaner, I feel vaguely inclined to give it to her a bit. Like yeah, I can't imagine that job title comes with the perk of making friends. But her siege mentality xenophobia primarily makes her think that everybody that isn't Feferi must hate her, to the point where she only trusts people when her relationship with them is adversarial. The subversion central to Eridan's character is that while she may be genuinely xenophobic, she isn't a supremacist, nor genocidal in intent. The weapons she claims to be amassing to conquer the surface aren't military, it's just whaling equipment she uses to prevent everyone dying. The Brand Whaling Gun and Bomb Lance. Some derivative of the Greener swivel harpoon gun (that I have yet to 100% identify but I do have the original picture used for the Photoshop). Broken killing lance heads (as can be seen in my pfp being held by captain Ahab).

So why do I hate Feferi? Because she does think herself superior to others, in a way that is supremacist. She's a paternalistic casteist of the highest order and it is gross.

But here's the twist: if people believed in the Feferi I just outlined, I'd love the character. Because I still do fundamentally believe in redemption and rehabilitation of people with really shitty beliefs. Feferi could've been a character who narratively served to demonstrate how her beliefs may appear good intentioned, but actually warns the audience of the trap of real life paternalistic racism that justifies colonialism with a friendly face. A narrative where she had character development and evolved alongside Eridan. Symbolically, the orphaner killing the idea of paternalism would've been goddamned beautiful. But instead, what I got, what we got, was the fandom never picking up on the nuances, the comic itself electing to skirt around the problematic elements, all leading up to this strange quirk of Homestuck where once you're aware of all this, you really can't look at cutesy Feferi fanart the same way ever again because it never gets addressed. And I think that's sad. But, until the people that like Feferi are in the same boat as me in wanting a redemption arc for her, I'm gonna stay her #1 hater.

#eridan #eridan ampora #she/her eridan #homestuck analysis #homestuck character analysis #PMIO theory #ask response #we dont tag character hate here we leave their tag alone #even when we think they'd be better off hating too

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nevesmose · 1 month ago

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I did some stories for the 40K Secret Sanguinala and Berserk Clangmas exchanges last year! Been occupied with my usual new year depressive breakdown so I'm only just now getting around to going into more detail about them here...

So the prompt I chose for this one was Konrad Curze/Shang including the requestor's various additional likes of smut, consensual relationship, female Konrad & pegging, fixed power dynamics between dominant primarch and submissive Astartes. And I think I met the brief pretty well, tbh.

Kassandra seemed like a good choice of name for a female Konrad. I've seen it done sometimes with Constance or Konnie or various other ways but this is Warhammer, the "Iron Hand, Primarch of the Iron Hands, who has metal hands and a spaceship called the Fist of Iron" setting. Nothing is too on the nose, and honestly for me that's a big part of the charm. So it felt entirely appropriate to name female Konrad after a seer of the future that nobody believes.

But we know what her real name is, don't we? Night Haunter. It probably sounds better in Nostraman but I always enjoy emphasing how that's his true name in his own perception. Sometimes people view him as having dual personalities of the """"good"""" Konrad versus the evil Night Haunter or something, but since he's Space Batman I tend to think of it more in the same way as some portrayals of the Dark Knight where Batman is who he is internally, all the time, and "Bruce Wayne" is just the palatable disguise worn for the benefit of others when it's necessary to do so.

I wasn't vastly familiar with Shang before writing this, but catching up on his appearances I found his dynamic pretty compelling, especially how he's shown to have genuine loyalty and love for Konrad, and it's mentioned that in return Shang is the only one of his legion that Konrad doesn't hate. Not that he loves Shang back or even likes him all that much, just that he doesn't actively loathe him.

That felt kind of interesting to me because of the wider dynamic that the Night Lords all seem to have of trying in various different ways to finally, finally win the affection and approval of a dysfunctional abusive father figure who hates them and himself and the entirety of existence, and the kind of futile hopes that this time for sure everything will be OK and Konrad will recover from his devastating untreated mental health issues and he'll finally like his army of space serial killers and violent criminals.

There's pegging too. Honestly it was fun to air out some of my favourite femdom elements since it's a good proportion of my fairly sizeable collection of romance novels, but you wouldn't know it from my very yaoi-centric fic output.

This was a treat for @chemos-factories who is a wonderful person and deserves good things, based on his request for Perturabo/Clonegrim with Perturabo wanting to acquire a perfect clone of Fulgrim for reasons that he may not be able to admit to himself. The suggested bodice ripper vibes somehow turned into fairy tale vibes as we explore Perty building a palace full of Saw traps to imprison and torture Fulgrim in, and then getting Clonegrim for entirely rational research purposes that have no twisted romantic elements whatsoever...

In the end Perty does not actually get the precious Clonussy but he does perhaps come close to actually learning something about the pain of bearing grudges and hatreds for millennia. Will he listen or actually change? Nah, of course not, this is Perturabo we're talking about. That's the tragedy of his character. But the opportunity was there at least.

And I wanted to give Clonegrim what felt like a proper happy ending for him as his own person. Like sometimes people say he should go and fight for the Imperium and lead the Sons of the Phoenix or redeem the Emperor's Children or something, and I just feel like even if that were possible that isn't, or wouldn't be, his personal goal or dream. So instead he gets to be his own person, living about as freely as anyone can, and have lots of fun Rogue Trader adventures as he explores the galaxy.

Genuinely one of the darker and more messed-up things I've written! The part of the request I focused on was King of Midland/The Torturer, Alternate Universe - The Torturer Is a Slightly Deformed Twink Erotically Obsessed with the King. That sounded interestingly grotesque to me, especially with the "nasty older men" aspect also mentioned in the prompt.

For all that I'm an alexithymic faceblind autist, I like to think I have a reasonable command of the kind of writing tricks that can be used to manipulate people into feeling things about a character and so I really pulled out all the stops for this one to get people to care about Twinkturer aka Frantz.

His name is taken from the main subject of The Faithful Executioner by Joel F Harrington which is a very, very good history book based on the diary of Frantz Schmidt, the city of Nuremberg's municipal torturer and executioner in the late 1500s/early 1600s.

The element of him being one of Gennon's victims felt like an effective starting point to achieve that, and also led to a fairly reasonable explanation for how his obsession with the King could occur in the first place.

The important aspect (as well as making him reasonably pretty as requested in the prompt) was to have it from his POV since everyone is the main character of their own story and (mostly) perceives their experiences and actions in ways that support or explain themselves and their worldview.

Of course, he's also deeply fucked up so his perceptions of things are not at all reliable, and that only gets worse as the distant effects of Griffith and the Hawks start to impact his life. I deliberately didn't have him ever meet any of the main characters in person because why would he? Everywhere except in his own head, he's an utter non-entity at the very bottom of the social hierarchy who spends his time doing horrible things in a dungeon.

He really could have had something with Alek though. They could have been happy despite everything. Sadly it's irrelevant of course, because of the King being jealous and vindictive. My original idea for the character was a bizarro funhouse mirror version of Griffith who has never had anything go right for him, but he ended up being a bizarro Charlotte instead which just added an entirely new layer of disturbing nasty old man exploitation to the story.

I had a lot of fun with this one, which started out as a quick little treat and ended up being almost 10k words of alternate universe Griffguts where Berserk is a TV show and they’re just actors. It's definitely one of those stories that took on a life of its own as it went on and overall I think it turned out well. I'm feeling particularly positive about the humour and the smut scenes here which, to me anyway, felt a lot more comfortable and natural than some of my other attempts at it. Actual improvement from practicing at doing something? Big if true.

I've always really enjoyed reading books/articles and watching videos about troubled and chaotic productions of movies and TV shows. It's fascinating and entertaining in a way I just can't describe to see these vast projects being changed and warped by all kinds of external and internal factors, and the ways in which this impacts the people who actually have to make the show or movie happen.

So in the AU, Guts has recently quit being a professional wrestler to start an acting career instead. He isn't based on any particular people as I don't actually know anything much about wrestling beyond that Rhea Ripley exists but he's aiming to have a kind of John Cena or Dwayne Johnson sort of trajectory.

AU Griffith is just That British Actor, you know the one, he's been in a few different movies and shows but you might struggle to remember exactly which ones. Sort of a blend of Tom Felton, Tom Hiddleston and a very small amount of Michael Sheen, and maybe Jacob McCarthy looks-wise? In any case he likes Berserk and he will achieve his dream of being Griffith no matter what it takes.

The Coriolanus bits, especially Guts finding the videos of it, were mainly inspired by the 2014 version starring Tom Hiddleston at the peak of his Loki popularity, during which he did in fact kiss Aufidius to the delight of the audience, as well as the 2011 movie version with Ralph Fiennes and Gerard Butler which also did a good job of portraying a more gruff middle-aged version of their enemies to lovers toxic yaoi.

I included a lot of fun little details in this one just to amuse myself with the AU / show within a show concept, but as it went on I was actually pretty entertained by working out how to adapt the Golden Age events into the story's low-budget cyberpunk version. Reassembled Cyberdemon Femto was pretty cool to imagine, and since I mentioned SOMA and Virus (1999) as inspirations for the production team in-story here's some pictures for vibes purposes.

It was really nice to take part and to get so much positive feedback from readers who took the time to comment! I have an inbox full of comments to reply to but just in general I really appreciated hearing people's thoughts on the stories. Thank you all! 🥰

#neves writes #wh40k #warhammer 40k #warhammer 40000 #konrad curze #shang #perturabo #clonegrim #secret sanguinala #berserk #guts #griffith #griffguts #king of midland #torturer #fanfic writing #fanfiction #fanfic #clangmas

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j0kers-light · 11 months ago

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His Lighthouse: Humble Beginnings (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

Humble Beginnings

series summary:

Y/n is an aspiring writer living in Gotham City and struggling to find her next muse. Her recent novel is getting all the buzz, earning her far more attention than she signed up for. But when a chance encounter results in her nursing The Joker back to health, will she find the time to write another best seller or will her own story become front page of the Gotham Gazette?

chapter summary:

Joker promises Y/n a night you’ll never forget but when has J’s ideas ever went according to plan?

authors note:

Please don’t throw any tomatoes at me! I am so far behind on my story that I’ve decided to do back to back chapters! No oneshots in between 😤 I’m super excited to see the reactions to this chapter. It reads like a filler, but it’s jammed packed with vital information. Do enjoy! 🖤✨

taglist:

@blackreaderatrisk @twinkledinkle @clemdango04 @l3ejm @what-an-angel @darthjokerisyourfather @thatsnoteii @dollster @cheetahspy @kaidennnnn @urdariingdoll @motivation-idontknowher @ins0mniac-whack @spaghettificationandpretzels @reneisance @alittlesmartcookie @ninacutebee16 @carydorse @jaysmentalspace

Let me know if you wish to be added to the official His Lighthouse taglist! Be alerted with any oneshots and the main story updates! 🖤✨

Last Chapter | Next Chapter

"Do you trust me?"

You shouldn't have. Common sense begged you not to. Apparently, you had none when it came to Joker. You just nodded and did as he asked.

The sidewalk outside Tiffany's was still empty but you paid it little mind. Your focus was on the black SUV parked near the curb. Behind it, you could see the normal bustling sight of Gotham. No one dared to cross the invisible line. Just how did Joker pull off his elaborate stunts, the world may never know. It was none of your business anyway.

You blindly trusted your clown and slid into the backseat only to discover that there was no driver.

You hoped that one would join you. Joker proved in the Vineyard that he was a terrible driver.

You didn't want to relive that horrifying experience again. Yet much to your dismay, Joker came strolling down the sidewalk to open the driver's door.

He made himself comfortable and opened his mouth to speak. It took a split second for him to realize that you weren't in the passenger seat.

Joker's work mode activated instantaneously. It was only a short walk from the storefront to the car but a professional only needed thirty seconds to grab you. His mind was racing with endless possibilities to get you back.

In that moment, Joker showed you just how much he cared about you when he hit the steering wheel with a curse spewing from his lips.

He looked a nervous wreck so you decided to end his mini suffering before it truly began. "Joker, I'm right here."

You waved from the backseat and he deflated like a balloon realizing that you were okay. No one took you. You were safe and accounted for.

He was relieved to say the least but his hands were still shaking. Hopefully you didn't notice.

"Y/n.. ya almost gave me a scare! Whatcha doing in the backseat hmm?" He patted the passenger seat in earnest, "I want you riding shotgun!"

You gave Joker a scare? Now that was one for the history books.

His green eyes still had traces of panic in them and it made you feel guilty. You weren't where you were supposed to be; and it caused Joker to panic. Losing you was perhaps his only fear and it was all because you miscalculated which seat he wanted you to occupy.

All of this could have been avoided if he gave you better instructions; however you didn't want to point fingers tonight.

You said nothing as you climbed over the center console and plopped down in the passenger seat.

Joker simply blinked in surprise. "Well. Ha, that's uhh, one way to do it." He laughed and turned the SUV on.

You were trying to get comfy on the leather seats in your silk dress. It wasn't the same Mercedes that he drove in Massachusetts; you remembered the dash wasn't matte and the seats were cloth, not leather. Regardless of the changes, it was a clean ride.

"The keys are clean my boy."

Your comment made Joker eye you sideways. He chalked it up to one of your Blüdhaven phrases since you didn't translate further.

J hummed in that ambiguous tone of his. "Uh thanks? It's yours actually." He turned onto the highway while you proceeded to error 404.

It was still hard to judge if Joker was joking or being serious about things. He always left you guessing.

"Run that back?" You asked. Ah, he knew what that saying meant.

He briefly glanced over at you before his eyes returned to the road. He wasn't one for repeating himself, yet you were breaking that personal quirk. "I'm saying..... it's yours doll. I thought you might want—"

"YOU BOUGHT ME A G-WAGON?!"

You heard Joker grumble about it technically not being a legal purchase but your mind was elsewhere. Morgana was right. Joker was already spoiling you with things. That sneaky florist knew this whole time!

The devil on your shoulder was cackling for days. 'Good pussy will get you anything. Secure the bag!!'

You shook your head so you could hear Joker ramble off the key features.

"It has custom cup holders, heated/cooled seats, annnnd its bulletproof!"

Pause. Did you hear that one correctly? "J, you're making me nervous." What did he expect you to encounter on the road? The Batmobile? You hardly went anywhere to warrant owning a car. J didn't waste time a second replying.

"Good. I don't want you takin' the subway anyyy-more. If you don't li-Ke this model, I'll uhh, get whatever car ya want but it will be armored."

That was his only requirement and you were reminded of the stale air between Joker and Two Face. Things were unresolved on that front but you didn't know if the former district attorney was the person behind the Manila folder incident. If not, then you had two enemies lurking around.

Someone had The Joker cautious. It was a fact too hard to ignore.

Joker had many enemies however this one took things personal and that made them ten times more dangerous. Your safety was J's number one priority. The least you could do was comply with his wishes. That didn't mean you couldn't have a little fun beforehand.

"So, i-if I want a Prius instead?" You led on. "You'd get me one?"

Joker looked away from the road to gawk at you. The man looked positively offended. "I am noT—"

You started tapping the dashboard after looking ahead. "Brake! Brake! Brake! Brake!" Your poor heels were stomping on an imaginary brake pedal on the passenger side. Anything to avoid a head on collision since Joker seemed incapable of noticing.

Joker finally came to his senses and swerved into the merging lane, thus avoiding the sudden congestion up ahead.

The car behind Joker unfortunately collided with the stand still traffic and began a multi car pile-up. Joker thought you freaking out was the funniest thing ever; you on the other hand were too busy questioning why you let him drive. Again.

No mode of transportation was safe if Joker was behind the wheel.

You clutched your head and stared out the window, yet the passing road signs made you perk up. "Are we headed to the airport? Dear Lord, I can't stomach flying after this." You waved at the mess on the highway behind you.

Joker's hand came to a rest on your thigh, right as he passed by the exit ramp for the Archie International Airport. A part of you wanted to yell at him to keep both hands on the wheel but his hand felt nice where it was.

Joker promised you a night you'd never forget, you weren't so sure when that would start.

"Shhh Bunny. You'll see." He squeezed your fears away. "You trust me, yeah?"

He didn't see your eye roll. "That's debatable." You mumbled.

Joker scoffed but kept quiet.

Despite it being dark out, any native knew where this road led. J saw you tense up out of the corner of his eye. A mile marker made your blood run cold.

Blüdhaven 24 miles.

"Joker, t-turn the car around. I don't..." You saw the familiar but foreign Blüdhaven skyline in the distance. "I d-don't wanna be here." You whispered.

It was so close, yet so far. You never wanted to return to this living hell but Joker gave you no other choice. He kept the vehicle on its course despite you tearing up in the passenger seat.

"Take me home, J. I'm serious!"

He thought about turning around, if not for an incoming text message on the dash distracting him. Somehow you didn't see it since you were staring out the window in a panic.

He clicked his tongue and exited the highway, his mind racing to work around this set back. Immediately the SUV was met with the rough pothole-ridden streets you grew up on. There was no doubt where you were now. You were getting nauseous just thinking about it.

"Take you home? I am, silly!" Joker giggled. To your horror, he turned onto your old street and began slowing down. What part of this was supposed to be a good night?

This was a nightmare.

Joker parked on the street, in your old, designated parking spot and cut the engine. You had tunnel vision and failed to hear Joker calling your name.

"I uh, hacked your manager's office to get the address. Hope ya don't mind.. But uhhh nice place! You gonna inviTe me up, Bunny?"

You shook your head in the negative.

Joker's plans were already ruined but you just had to make matters worse by being a stick in the mud. Joker clicked his tongue again and came around the SUV to open your door. He didn't expect to see you crying when he got there.

"No. Nooooo no noo. Stop that, Bunny. Look. At. Me." He frowned when you did the opposite. He was getting irritated but he refused to let you see. All it took was a little patience when you got like this. Patience! You know, something he severely lacked.

Joker sighed and reached inside the wagon to tilt your face towards him.

"Focus on me, my Light. That's it. On me. He's not here. I am, and I wanna see your place. Uh, in an old blog post you mentioned you had a errr, nice view? Can you show me?"

He was pulling out all the strings, and still, you weren't budging.

"C'mon baby doll.." J kept his focus on you but also on the street. Blüdhaven was infamous for a reason and he didn't want you outside for too long drawing unnecessary attention. The SUV alone drew enough.

He had a team assigned to run surveillance; however, they weren't here yet due to the setback. Getting you situated inside was his first priority then he could check on their ETA.

That is, if you cooperated.

You looked ready to faint amid your panic attack.

Joker's methods were a touch cruel however he knew facing one's fears helped in the long run. He never fully understood why you avoided your hometown when it was only forty-five minutes away—at least, if you drove fast like him it was.

You had baggage that was long overdue for unpacking, and he wanted to be there with you when it happened. He wished someone had been there for him years ago but all he got was a bad rep and solitary confinement.

Bottling up your trauma wasn't healthy. This knowledge came from experience and Joker didn't want you ending up like him.

"Y/n, you still with me?"

Joker's voice was muffled by the ringing in your ears, yet you nodded your head regardless. He gave you an awkward hug— you still seated and him standing, desperately trying to get you out of the vehicle.

His actions worked. You sought out his warmth and followed the tugging motion until you were standing on the curb. He half carried, half dragged you into the apartment building in an ironic twist of events.

You were reminded of the time when you carried Joker to your apartment when the two of you first met. History was repeating itself. However, in this case the roles were reversed and there was no elevator. Joker picked you up bridal style and carried you to your old residence. Along the way, you came to and asked to be put down.

You wanted to walk on your own and you led Joker right up to the apartment door. "T-This is me. Or it used to be." You blinked and added, "I don't have the key."

Joker scoffed, "Don't neeeed one." His shoulder made quick work of the door and you glared at his illegal methods.

"J, this isn't my place anymore! What if someone else is renting?"

A lot could happen in a year. You moved out so fast that your landlord didn't have time to fine you for ditching the agreement. Technically you still had a lease here and that much was evident when you walked in. Nothing had changed. Sure it was dusty, but bigger pieces of furniture and some personal items that you left behind were still present.

You lifted a dust cover and smiled seeing your favorite end table, scuff marks and all, hidden underneath.

"Oh. Me and Nia thrifted this back in high school!" You were confused why you didn't take it with you until you tried lifting it.

"Yup still heavy." You moved on and didn't notice Joker moving it near the door for you. Anything you wanted to take back, he would.

Overtime you started to relax and Joker admired the way you shuffled around digging up old memories. And to think you were initially too scared to come up here. His Bunny was so skittish, all you needed was a little nudge of encouragement.

He noticed that most of your finds were too heavy, and it made him think out loud. "Was my Bunny in a hurry to leave?"

You set down a box of things, sighing. "Yeah. This is the first time I've been here since..."

Joker noticed you hesitate and filled in the blanks for you. No wonder you were so against coming here. Joker felt like an idiot. This was your first visit since your assault, and you continued to rub in his mistake.

"I moved back in with Mama and Dad. It took months to get back on my feet. Dad and some of my cousins moved my stuff for me since I couldn't bring myself to come back. It was essentials only and it barely fit inside the U-haul we rented. I moved to Gotham with a fraction of my life. I had to start over with absolutely nothing."

Seeing the space around him was proof of your resilience.

Joker unlocked another piece to the Y/n puzzle. Everything you had today, you earned with nothing but grit and determination. He felt stupid for thinking you were a spoiled, entitled brat.

You were stronger than people gave you credit for. You deserved the world and then more.

Joker came over but stopped short of touching you. He was uncertain if you wanted physical contact right now judging by your closed off body language. However, J thought you shouldn't be alone, so he tested the water to gauge your reaction.

For starters, he dropped his unique speech pattern and talked to you straight. A trend you noticed he did exclusively for you.

"Anything you want, I'll have my boys bring back for you." He moved his hand until his pinky bumped into yours. It made you crack a smile and intertwine your fingers with Joker's.

Such a small gesture held a bigger meaning. You silently thanked Joker for being considerate. After a while you turned to address him.

"R-Really? You can do that?"

Joker feigned offense, staring at your dainty hand looped around his rougher one. The contrast in color had him mesmerized but he heard your question loud and clear.

He let go of your hand to tilt your chin up, and his words brushed against your lips like satin. "Sweetheart. Say the word and it's yours. You really should believe me on that."

J backed you into a wall grinning wildly, until you started blinking like mad. "What's wrong?" He knew that trigger of yours all too well and backed off.

You didn't let him go far. You buried your face into Joker's suit and held on tight. "I'm sorry, just a bad memory here."

Seconds after you spoke, you were deposited on top of the kitchen counter. The surface was cool through your silk dress, but Joker's hands were warm on your hips.

He was quick to dote on you. "What's the story?"

A long one if you were being honest. You weren't up to retelling it, yet one look into Joker's curious eyes made you cave. He was earnest in his desire to know more about you and that included your horrid past.

There was no harm in sharing so with a shaky sigh, you jumped right in.

"Um l-long story short, I was accused of cheating after he saw a post I was tagged in with a fan of mine. He punched the wall, almost hitting me. I was terrified he would hurt me, but he 'apologized' with diamond earrings the next day."

Joker looked up and sure enough, he could see the indentation you spoke of. Someone had tried to patch the wall up, key word; tried. Joker saw nothing but red.

"Give me a location and I'll kill him."

You shrugged J off. The last thing you wanted was Joker killing someone in your name, even if it was your ex. You were trying to forget and move on with your life despite the process being slow.

Joker was curious as to why you hopped off the counter.

He followed your path as you hovered near the sink. You smiled at a burn mark you found there. Your emotions changed like a drop of a hat; he honestly couldn't keep up. You reminisced about your Housewarming party when the same friend Nia set down a casserole dish straight from the oven and burned the countertop.

It brought you back to happier times and you were glad to know good memories were mixed in with the bad.

The discovery lighted the mood but Joker couldn't overlook that this apartment was filled with signs of abuse, hidden in plain sight.

You didn't realize that you were surrounded by the signs until you gave Joker a tour, pointing things out left and right. It was nearing time for his surprise to begin, yet Joker couldn't bring himself to interrupt you.

The fancy dinner he planned tonight would have to wait for another day due to safety concerns. Plus he rather enjoyed following you around and hearing you share stories of your past.

It wasn't the memorable night that he had originally designed, moreover, being in your presence was more than enough.

A shame you were expecting something big to occur. He'd make something up on the fly to appease you.

You led Joker past the barren bedroom out to your balcony. It was the size of a broom closet compared to your massive square footage back at home. You really moved up in life and it showed.

"This is the view I was talking about. I used to stay out here for hours. Just me and my thoughts, planning a future I could only dream of."

Joker whistled at the grand sight of Gotham City in the distance.

It truly looked like a beacon of hope from here especially since he now knew about your old living situation back inside. You dreamed of escaping it all and starting anew, and it all originated from this balcony.

Joker's eyes strayed from the skyline down at you.

His Light bathing in the moonlight. The cool blue hue highlighted your features in ways Joker could've never imagined. You were gorgeous, even if there was a wistful expression on your face that he longed to erase.

Joker tapped your shoulder to get your attention. You turned with a soft hum, but it was cut short by J kissing you.

It was full of passion with a touch of desperation.

You weren't defined by your past. You were free to live out the dreams you created, and he wanted to provide it for you if only you would allow him to.

J shifted to deepen the kiss, but you beat him to it by pushing him away. You said something under breath before clearing your throat.

'Always running away.' Joker wryly thought. He had a split-second idea of handcuffing you to him before he shook it away.

He found you removing your heels in order to climb up the dingy fire escape. And to his surprise you were standing on the ledge, Titanic style.

"Uh... Bun?" His hands reached out to balance you. He was met with your carefree laugh floating in the breeze.

"I used to come up here dozens of times, J." You turned around to look down at him. "It's safe."

A rusty groan followed by a loud pop proved your words otherwise. You yelped when your balance gave way to the beam breaking and if not for Joker's tight grip on your waist, you would have tumbled down four stories.

Thank goodness for his fast reflexes.

"I got ya doll! Don't look down... Don'T! Look.." A dumb order to follow when your head was hanging over the edge. You elected to close your eyes until Joker pulled you back over.

The two of you collapsed back on the safe portion of the balcony in a fit of emotions. You shaking with Joker gently rocking you.

"I got you Bunny." He kissed the crown of your head, holding onto you for dear life. You were nodding along to anything he said in your state of shock. He waited for a while before speaking again.

"I had plansss for us to stay herebuT. Why don't I drop you off at your parents instead, yeah?"

This was his idea of a night you'll never forget?

You refused to believe it. Something must've come up for him to be so spontaneous with his plans. J didn't make you get all dolled up and drive you out of Gotham City for nothing. He had to have something bigger up his sleeve for later.

For now, you feigned ignorance. "W-Where are you gonna stay?"

Joker pulled back just enough to give you an, 'are you kidding me' glare.

"Right. Y-You have a hideout here in town. National threat and all. Um, if you drop me off at my parents, they'll hog me for days. I haven't visited them since I moved to Gotham."

Were you rambling? You couldn't tell. Good thing Joker loved your voice and had the patience to listen to what you had to say. He just repositioned you better on his lap and played with your gold bracelet as you filled in the silence.

He hated that you got so pretty all for nothing. Joker was getting fed up with this coward following him around and threatening your safety.

He'd get to the bottom of that situation later. As for now..

"Then stay as long as ya like." Joker chimed in. He regretted saying it the second it left his lips.

You twisted around until you saw Joker's eyes alit by the moon. He looked sincere yet you spotted his curt smile. The boy was drowning in self loathing.

You called his bluff. "I thought this trip was about us."

"It issssss. I'll uh find something to do while you visit the folks." His eerie smirk made you wince.

"Let me guess you'll commit some elaborate crime that'll attract Nightwing's attention?" Your fingers toyed with the lapels on J's suit. "Please don't stir up too much trouble, J. Blüdhaven is a lot different than—"

Joker's huff cut you off, and a shiver went down your spine hearing his voice drop an octave. "Thanks for the warning, Sugar but that's the goal. I wanT to cause a fuss. Ya see... I have some uh, loose ends, and whaddya know? I brought scissors."

You gulped and rested your head back on Joker's chest. If you ignored his ominous words, then they wouldn't affect you.

That straight up sounded like a hit list waiting to happen. You wanted no parts in Joker's line of work.

After a while, only the sound from the nearby interstate and the feeling of Joker's fingers running up your spine was relevant. Your mind was adrift with imaginary scenarios where Joker could meet your parents, but alas it was too risky.

Not only did your dad used to run the streets back in the day, he still had active connections and would recognize Joker on the spot. Plus, your mom was like the female version of Sherlock.

Joker wouldn't stand a chance. But a girl could wish. And your clown was already ten steps ahead of you plotting ways to make it happen.

He had to make up for this failure of a date somehow.

Joker let you drive the way back to your parents. Not because you were terrified of his driving, (he just giggled at your seething glare when he accidentally went down a one-way street), but the neighborhood was hard to give verbal directions to.

Little did you know, Joker knew exactly where your parents lived but that was a tidbit for another day.

He rather enjoyed watching you behind the wheel. Like a true Blüdhaven native, you drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the gear shift, riding low. You navigated past potholes with ease and your driving skills were far more impressive since Joker held your heels, allowing you to drive barefoot.

His girl was a sight to see, and he told you this at every stop light. You tried to not let J's words make you flustered but with his silver tongue that feat was virtually impossible.

You pulled the SUV a few cars down from the house and shifted into park. The street was so familiar yet foreign, it gave you Deja vu.

You used to read books at the basketball court down the corner and you busted your lip open skating into Ms. Morrison's mailbox one Saturday afternoon a few yards away. It was still bent at an odd angle if you squinted hard enough...

"Everything alright?" Joker's voice brought you back to the present.

"Y-yeah, sorry. Um can you hand me my shoes and I'll be outta your hair."

You yelped when Joker yanked you over the console by the back of your neck. His shaky breath fanned over your lips like a dragon's ire. "You.. are.. noT.. a.. burden, my Light. Never think that." J kissed you in between words, "I'm gonna help ya with your heels, mkay?"

He didn't give you a chance to argue. J was already out of his seat and walking around the back of the car to the driver's side. Joker opened the door and made grabby hands at your feet. You bent your leg so it stuck out the car and into Joker's awaiting hand. His hands were so warm against your skin and it made you shiver.

And of course, Joker noticed. All he did was snort and resume his task.

He fastened your heels back onto your feet and helped you step out of the SUV. The engine was still running but you stared up at Joker, waiting for a proper goodbye.

You and Joker were two idiots standing in the street, just staring at each other. Thankfully it was dark enough so that noisy neighbors couldn't peer out of their windows and see you embracing The Joker.

Now that would be a fun welcome home surprise. You rather not be the talk of town for a second time, thank you very much.

You didn't know what to say so you blurted out the first thing on your mind. "I'll call you I guess?"

Joker hummed. It sounded like an affirmative, yet his hands were like iron bars around your waist. You tried leaning away, his hands simply tightened further. "J... are you gonna let me go?"

An approaching car's headlights lit up the street, and it startled Joker out of his random head space.

He finally released you onto the sidewalk. It was your cue to walk to the door, even if you didn't understand Joker's odd way of saying goodbye. He was still staring as you headed up the stoop. He was acting weird, yet you chose not to dwell on it too much.

Nineteen knocks later and your mother answered the door in her bathrobe wielding a bat. The sight made you arch an eyebrow.

"Who the f—Y/n that you? MY BABY!" She dropped the bat to sweep you up into her arms. "Oh! Do you know what time it is?! Honey! Our baby is here!!!"

Your dad was already making his way down the hallway loading his handgun. Just what time was it anyway for this type of greeting?! You had no clue. The second dad saw you standing in the doorway, his entire demeanor changed, and he concealed his weapon.

It was a reunion scene straight from a hallmark movie and Joker rolled his eyes after seeing the door close with you safely inside. His eyes never strayed from the front door as he made a phone call.

"501 Dorset. Three friendlies. 24/7 watch." He hung up before driving away.

It wasn't the memorable night he planned by any means, but seeing your heartfelt smile while reuniting with your parents would have to suffice. His Light was safe enough for him to go out and get some answers.

He wanted to know more about your past, and your hometown was filled with leads. All he needed was someone who would itch his ears.

The following morning was just like any other in the Y/L/N household. Your mom cooked breakfast and the heavenly smell floated up the stairs and roused you awake. You were always the last down. Somethings just never changed.

Dad was reading the second page of the newspaper by the time you shuffled down the stairs still in your pjs and bonnet.

"Morning, sweetheart. You hungry?" Mama asked, already piling food onto your favorite plate and sliding it on the table. You thanked her after saying grace and grabbed a fork.

At least your dad waited until you had scarfed down half the plate to start his interrogation.

"How did ya get here so late? I hope you weren't out alone." He rubbed his arm where your mom hit him with her spatula. She was thinking the same thing! Why keep it hush?

He had already called in from work to spend time with his girls. It was a rare visit indeed, and he wouldn't miss it for the world. Luckily, your mom also had the next few days off from the hospital.

They had all day to get some answers.

You choked on your eggs. "Um, a... um friend d-dropped me off." You focused your eyes on the horizon in your coffee mug.

"Teh. You mean the shady lookin' friend in the all black G-Wagon?" He pestered. Your mom turned the stove off and came over to the table with her own plate piled high.

"G Wagon? Should I know what that is?" Your mom asked out loud. You smiled watching dad hold out a chair for her and then push her up to the table. Ugh, they were so cute it gave you a toothache.

He kissed her forehead before sitting back down, "It's the obvious choice with armored vehicles. That or a Rover. Are you keeping your head on the swivel?" You noticed the gleam in his eye and the hidden message behind it.

"I'm not in anything dad, I promise. It's just a friend."

He nodded; content for now until your mom spoke up, pointing her breakfast sausage at you.

"At that time of night, a friend would've walked you up dear. Or at least came in to say hello. They got any manners?"

She had a point and you winced in hindsight. Manners were a big thing to your family. You stammered an excuse. "Yes ma'am.. but.."

"Is this that same Prince Charming fellow Dick was going on about at dinner?"

Bruh, your dad was on your neck! There was no time to breathe! You never lied to your parents before and you certainly weren't about to start now. You pushed your egg whites around on the plate and caved.

"Um... yes?" You knew their reaction would be instant.

"AND HE DIDN'T COME IN 'N SAY HELLO?!" Mama cried, followed by your dad rubbing his temples. Well, this wasn't good.

How could you get out of this barrage of questions and paint Joker in a good light? Not like he'd ever meet them, but still you wanted him to have a good rapport with your family. "Mama, he's like really shy around others.."

You knew you said the wrong thing when dad smacked his paper down on the table. "What grown man is shy, Y/n? Ain't you into mature men?"

You pulled a face and glanced at your mother.

She snickered and bit into her toast. There were no secrets, and you were open about everything to them, but it was still awkward to discuss your preferences in men with your parents.

"Um yes dad... I am. B-but, in this situation, just..." you took a deep breath, "Could you please respect his boundaries?"

"Will his boundaries allow us to meet and judge if he's good enough for our Y/n/n?" Mama argued.

And that's where you drew a blank.

Realistically you knew Joker would never meet your parents, however staying quiet would only rouse their curiosity. You had to come up with some sort of answer and fast. Then you remembered the mother-daughter conversation you had with Ma back at your place. A lightbulb went off in your head.

"I'm not sure Mama. Remember I told you, it's not really a permanent relationship. If you want to meet hi—"

"Whatchu mean it ain't permanent? Is he stringing you along? Do I need to call your uncle?" Your dad asked.

You paled. "God no." That's the last thing you needed in your chaotic life.

Even your mother was on edge. "Honey, I doubt it's that serious, right Y/n? No need to get... them involved. Just you wait! Our daughter's got good taste. This mysterious man will come around." She nodded once and that was the end of that.

You exhaled in relief, but the weight of her words sank to your gut.

You didn't have good taste at all. You didn't have the heart to tell your family you were dating the most dangerous criminal in the country or the fact that you were uncertain of the outcome. Would Joker let you walk away from this relationship alive, or would you be another one of his nameless victims, lost to time? Something told you it would probably be the latter.

It was a lot to think about over breakfast. A lulling silence settled over the kitchen until your mother broke it with her cheery voice.

"Oh! Y/n! Since you're here, why don't we go out as a family?"

It was the least you could do, so you swiftly replied.

"Yeah sure Mama. I need something to wear though." You played with a loose thread on your pajama pants. After the shock of you being on their front stoop wore off, Mom and Dad ushered you inside and caught up on lost time, despite it being the dead of night.

Mama commented on your beautiful outfit and you asked to change into something more comfortable before continuing the family chitchat. You donned an old high school spirit shirt and the threadbare pants that you wore now.

The three of you talked for hours until sleep out won the excitement. Now as for going out in public, you weren't so sure you had anything suitable left in your closet upstairs.

"Well, I think I have something that could fit you, at least till we get to a store. It's nothing like your fancy designer clothes." She thought back to your pretty dress that you came in wearing. She hadn't seen you dressed up in ages!

Which reminded her. Your mom turned to your father, "Do you have any plans for today, honey?"

"Nah. I wanna tag along with my two favorite girls. All I'm askin' is to be fed. How about.. we go to Vincent's later? You remember their brown butter and sage gnocchi? Man, you love that stuff, Y/n/n." He scratched his neck, hoping he didn't ruin the moment. Even your mother held her breath at the mere suggestion.

You tensed for a second but nodded. "Omg, yes! I've been craving it actually!" You admitted. Mom reached across the table to grab your hand.

"Will you be okay going there dear? We can always order take-out.."

"I-I think I'll be okay." You caught the hesitant look your parents gave each other. "Seriously. It's cool. I can't condemn Vincent for someone else's actions. Plus, his food is too good to boycott." You squeezed her hand back. I'll be okay.

"Well that settles it. Everyone get ready and we'll hit the towns!"

A day out with your parents was just what the doctor prescribed.

Downtown Blüdhaven was just as you remembered it. Granted it was just as bad as Gotham, (if not worse) you felt a sense of comfort walking around. Perhaps because you knew the people here. You shopped at that drug store for years and knew the workers therein. You and some old school buddies accidentally broke the window at that diner on the corner.

It was nostalgia at its finest, only downside was that your success in Gotham followed you home. You were spotted walking around and by midday, your mom had to say something.

"Sweetheart! I didn't know you were so... famous." She was awestruck when a group of teenagers squealed and asked for your autograph inside the mall. You just smiled, signed their items, and even took a selfie with them—as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Yeah well.. I'm a successful author mama. It's kinda part of the job." Dad was skeptical but he enjoyed acting like your bodyguard for the day and he took his job very seriously.

The two bodyguards that Joker officially assigned over you simply rolled their eyes but didn't dare talk down to your father figure. They both shared a look and passed along a message to J as to who your father was.

To avoid any future run ins with fans, you decided to make a quick post online. Dad guided you over to a nice backdrop and you whipped out your phone.

"Hey hi everyone! I'm back home, taking a break if you will with the 'rents. My adoring mother and father," you flipped the lens to show your mom hiding behind dad. Dad gave a weak two finger salute in her stead.

Your bell like laughter was captured on camera. "I forgot; she's camera shy. But um.. Yeah! I'm in Blüdhaven for the day super casual, so please be mindful of my privacy. Love and kisses!"

You hit send and glanced up hearing your dad's soft laugh. "Look at my Y/n overcoming her anxiety and talking to people!" He was about to nuzzle your hair, but Mama swooped in to save the day. "Not on the twist out!!"

Your hair was looking bomb after she gave it some much needed blue magic moisture and love this morning. She was protecting her masterpiece with an iron fist.

Dad rolled his eyes and tossed his arms around both you and Mama's shoulder. "I think it's time I fed my girls. Who's hungry?"

Your stomach cried out the loudest and you slapped a hand over it, embarrassed. And on that note, it was time to head out.

The restaurant wasn't too far of a walk, but you could feel a change in the air. You noticed the street sign and shivered. Highland and Bicchieri. It gave you the ick.

"We can go somewhere else if you're not ready, Y/n."

It didn't matter which one of them said it, your parents were a collective unit whenever it came to your comfort. Dad kept his distance all day, but you shocked him by initiating physical contact. It made him happy knowing you were healing but he couldn't help but worry that eating here would be counterproductive.

You hugged his arm closer to you for support. "I'm alright. I'm not going to boycott Vincent's food just because of one bad apple. I'm hungry! Let's go!" With a nod to yourself, you entered the building—leaving them outside.

"I got a bad feelin' about this." Mom sighed. Your dad silently agreed.

They walked in right as you were being ushered back by the hostess. "Right this way." She nodded at your parents and guided the three of you back to a cozy area of the restaurant.

Exposed brick and antique lights were the theme throughout. The building itself was one of the founding structures in the city, dating back to the 1900's and the Bicchieri family owned it for almost all of its history. If these walls could talk...

Menus were handed out and the hostess bid the three of you a nice meal before leaving.

Everything was going smoothly until a waiter came over to start out the table and locked eyes with you. "Y/n?"

Of all people to run into, just your luck. "H-Hey Rebekah."

And of course she was eating up your discomfort. "Wow. I thought you'd never step foot in Blüdhaven again. Lemme guess. No one believed your sob story in the big city, and ya came crawling back home?" She scoffed under her breath. "What can I get ya? Disappointment with a side of attention seeking whor—"

"We'd like a different waiter that's what you can get us. I don't got an appetite for your f___king attitude." Your mother said on your behalf.

Rebekah rolled her eyes and walked off. A table across the way gasped as in disbelief at what they just heard and started mumbling amongst themselves.

Dad was trying to calm your mother down, he did not want her making a scene, and you slid further down in your seat, regretting everything.

This is exactly why you never came back home. There was no escaping the backlash.

It was like dad sensed your brewing tears. "We can leave if you want sweetheart. Mama is right, we don't have to take their s__t." He grumbled more under his breath; you didn't care. You just shook your head.

"We're on his family's turf, I should've expected this. I just want to eat and—"

The restaurant exploded into absolute chaos mid sentence.

Multiple men stormed the place demanding everyone shut up and stay seated. Your dad ordered you and Mom to stay calm despite the goons going table to table threatening everyone with guns. You were a ball of nerves already, but you listened to your father's soothing words.

He was a veteran to these sorts of things. If he told you to do something, it was for the best. His wisdom was golden in your opinion.

None of the goons made it to your table yet, which you were grateful for, however much to your horror, Joker strolled in followed by Frost protecting his rear. It was something straight out of a night terror.

You never saw Joker in his element—and it was obvious he was a completely different person in public. He carried an air of fear that made the warnings that news anchors always drowned on about, seem tame.

He is heavily armed and extremely dangerous. We ask the public to stay far away if found within the same vicinity as The Joker.

Up until today, you only seen Joker as a caring, silly roommate, and an even better lover. He was never a danger to you—at least, that you knew of, and he never caused you harm that he didn't immediately regret.

The man dressed in a signature purple suit, stalking the restaurant was unrecognizable to you. You didn't know his motive and that made you tremor in fear.

You whimpered and hid in your father's arms—narrowly avoiding being seen by Joker as he glanced in your direction. He flailed his arms at the lack of service. "Cmon... I just wanted a table." He said before demanding for the manager.

Even his voice sounded different. Had it always been so sinister? It made the hair on your arm stand on end.

A man came out and by smell alone, you knew it was Vincent Bicchieri himself. You could smell the garlic and authentic cigars from across the room.

You couldn't bear to look him in the eye. They reminded you too much of his nephew's. And they both had the same pompous attitude. "Whaddya want freak? Did ya get lost on the highway?" Vincent joked. No one laughed along.

Joker kissed his teeth and glossed over the menu that your waitress; Rebekah handed him. He skimmed over the options before he suddenly grabbed Vincent by his gold chain.

"I'm a looking for someone. Someone... veryyyyy special. You ahh, Ital-i-ans are quite family oriented, no?"

"What's it to ya, freak." Vincent spat out.

Joker took a deep, long breath and you could see his fingers twitching, a clear sign that he was agitated. You knew he hated being called names and this blatant disrespect was probably eating at him. Frost noticed the same thing and flanked his Boss, waiting on a command.

The other goons were left to their own devices moseying around the restaurant. You were too busy watching Joker to notice that one of them had finally approached your table.

Joke licked his scars while rolling his eyes up to the ceiling. "Ok-aaaaay. Let's just cut to the chase, hmm?"

You covered your mouth as Joker took out a switchblade and slit Vincent's throat. His body fell to the floor in a rapidly spreading pool of blood. Women and children were screaming and Joker's goons were ordering them to shut up again. The thug passing by your table caught sight of you despite your father trying his best to shield you and Mom.

"Pretty daughter you got there." The henchmen smirked. Your father wasn't having it and politely warned the boy. "Back off son."

"I ain't ya son."

You knew this wouldn't end well when the crazed henchman grabbed hold of you.

Your instincts were screaming at you to say something, (to cry out for J, anything) but your throat sealed shut in fear. Being quiet was your default in scary situations but you weren't alone today. In the den of chaos, you heard both your parents cry out your name.

You didn't hear Joker's footsteps; you just happened to see his green hair out the corner of your eye the moment you opened them. He must've dyed it overnight, you noted sourly.

"Is there a f__king problem?" The restaurant was promptly silenced by his ominous sentence.

And rightfully so. Joker sounded like the devil himself. You almost felt bad for the poor guy touching you. How was he supposed to know the error in his ways if you were a secret?

"Uh no, Boss? I-I'm not sure Boss."

Case in point.

"LeT. Her. Go." Joker's eyes fell to his henchmen's grip on your arm. If looks could kill.. well. Joker had a thousand plus ways to murder the fool.

His green eyes had never looked more venomous and they glowed with promises of carnage. The message was well received.

The guy let go; and you roughly fell back into your seat. Your gaze naturally landed on Joker knowing that aggression would set him off even further.

The Joker you knew would not let anyone mistreat his Light.

Unfortunately, there was nothing of the man you cared about standing next to you. Not once did he look your way. Joker didn't trust himself to. One look at you would jeopardize everything.

If he turned and saw the terror swimming in your e/c eyes, his Joker persona would crumble like the Berlin Wall. He would devote himself to calming you down.

The great Joker would fall to his knees and kiss each tear away, begging for your forgiveness and he would do it shamelessly. Right in front of your parents no less.

F__k, they were right there! All he had to do was bend down and claim your lips for all to see and the truth would be out.

Joker would expose his biggest secret and have zero regrets. The only downside was you. You would suffer the most if J went public with his Light.

He couldn't risk it. No. He couldn't look. He had to pretend you were nothing to him. This was how he protected you. You. Didn't. Exist. You were an innocent civilian caught up in the crosshairs. Joker did not know you. And that happened to be the hardest task he'd ever faced.

Frost was on guard near the door just waiting for Joker to slip up. The second Frost saw you; he knew they were f__cked. Joker was gonna ruin everything being a simp.

Something had to be done before Joker and his unpredictability acted out. This scenario called for a distraction and what better one than chaos?

Joker shot his own henchmen and drowned out the sound of your startled scream with a theatrical gasp. It all happened in the blink of an eye.

He inspected the gun as if it accidentally went off on its own. "Oops." His sinister laugh was definitely forced. Only you and Frost could tell.

Unfortunately, Joker underestimated the power you held over him. You were like a magnet, beckoning Joker to give in with your natural charm and beauty. He always said your tears would be his undoing—that turn of phrase would hold true today. Much to Frost's and Joker's own dismay, he caved.

He looked at you.

He couldn't stop himself, he had to see you. But he would never forget the sight of your e/c eyes widened in terror at him. How it tortured him inside.

For once in his life, Joker felt ashamed.

Your light was shining on him and exposing his pitch-black soul. His eyes quickly averted down to the table where your menu, now splattered with blood, lay.

He gestured at it, hoping no one noticed his hands shaking. "You should uh try the ahh, brown butter gnocchi. I hear it's to die for."

You were speechless hearing Joker stumble over his words and not in his normal calculated way.

J nodded at your parents, who were frozen at the sight of him talking to you. "Enjoy your meal."

He would never admit it to anyone, but he almost tripped on his henchman's corpse trying to get away from you. A second longer in your presence would have ended in the national headline.

The Joker Brought to His Knees by a Woman.

Joker's heart was beating out of his chest and it took him a second to compose himself back into character. God, you really were his greatest weakness.

Joker passed by a petrified family of four table and swiped the wife's drink mid stride. The soda did little to quell his nerves. He couldn't get your eyes out of his head. The image was forever seared into his brain. He never wanted to be the villain in your eyes. He failed you in so many ways tonight. He had to get out of here before anything else went belly up.

Why did he come here anyway? Great, you made him forget his main objective!

Joker picked up movement out the corner of his eye and quickly locked eyes with Frost. The brute spun his finger in a circle. 'Wrap it up.'

Everyone could hear the sirens in the distance. Too little too late, but help was on the way. Joker grumbled to himself and was making his escape when he remembered one small slight.

The staff were screaming and ducking for cover when Joker and his men burst through the kitchen area, looking for the exit. Joker had no intention of bothering them until he poked his head back inside with a polite smile.

"Pardon meeee. Which one of you is... Rebekah?" He already knew but where was the fun in that? Frost was behind him, telling him to hurry it up.

J didn't have the patience to tell him to shove it. He had a score to settle. Joker grinned watching the tall, mixed girl raise her hand in fright.

"Lovely!" Joker shot her in the head before anyone could question his intentions. He admired his work with a cheekily grin. The stunned staff didn't dare move and thus suffer the same fate.

The clown was completely insane.

The terrifying sight was broken up by someone yelling, "J, we gotta go!" Joker frowned at his fun being cut short, yet he heeded Frost's urgent cry. He kicked out the back door and escaped into the night.

Out front, the customers were being rescued by policemen arriving at the restaurant. People were terrified, but this was Blüdhaven. Things like this happened a dime a dozen with a lot more casualties.

Although no one was more traumatized as you. By the time local police officers reached your table, your knuckles hand turned white. Your grip on your seat was the only thing that kept you from launching yourself into Joker's arms.

Despite your fear, you craved his comfort. You wanted the Joker you were falling in love with to hold you—not the scary clown that just left dead bodies in his wake.

Speaking of, you tried your best not to notice the dead man lying near your feet. You couldn't find any footing with the amount of blood under your heels.

Anything else was a better sight yet your eyes landed on the bloody menu right in front of you. The majority of it was illegible now except for the suggestion Joker gave you.

You were disturbed by how he knew what you wanted. It was in that moment you noticed a table within your line of sight was empty. You staunchly remembered two men sitting there before things went haywire.

How could you be so ignorant? Of course your security detail was feeding Joker intel.

Your dad was asking if you were alright, but he sounded far far away. You honestly couldn't hear anything, your ears were ringing so loud.

"I-I think I'm gonna be sick." You mumbled before you passed out cold.

The to-go box full of gnocchi sat heavily on your lap the entire ride back home.

Your parents thought they were slick stealing glances at you; as if you wouldn't notice, yet you could sense their pity in the air. It wasn't their fault. The wonderful day out with family had ended in disaster and you had only your lover to blame.

Was it a coincidence that Joker crashed the same restaurant you were dining at? You weren't so sure after witnessing the genuine shock on Frost's face when the two of you locked eyes.

J didn't expect you to be there. But why was he there in the first place racked your brain.

You had a hunch, and if you were right, the logic behind Joker's visit made you sick to the stomach.

Your head was already throbbing from the lack of nourishment plus the blunt force it suffered when you hit your head fainting. Dad swore that he tried to catch you; Mama wasn't convinced.

No one was in a good mood after giving statements to the police, and the three of you walked to the front door like a funeral party.

The to-go box, courtesy of the remaining staff, (you suspected it was Joker's doing) was tossed onto the kitchen counter when you walked inside. All you wanted to do was wash your face, secure your hair, and crawl into bed in that exact order. You had no other interests tonight.

Mama had a different agenda.

"Y/n, do you—"

You didn't mean to be rude but the last thing you wanted to do was talk. You talked way too much to investigators at the scene. Your mom jumped when you slammed your bedroom door right in her face.

She sighed and glanced at her husband, who simply shook his head, stating he was off to take a shower. Some help he was.

She didn't want you distancing yourself, especially after such a triggering dinner, so she tried again. "Baby... can you please open the door? I can help you with your hair?"

A 'go away Mama' was weakly heard through the door. The doorknob wasn't budging either when she tried turning it. Back to old habits. You were isolating yourself and as such, she felt as if she failed as a mother.

"Alright, that's okay. We're down the hall if you.. if..." All the air in her lungs left her mid sentence. "Get some sleep, Y/n/n."

You didn't hear Mama outside your door. You were distracted by your phone lighting up with an incoming call.

The assigned name made you shiver and for once, not in a good way. Should you let it ring to voicemail? You gnawed on your bottom lip debating the consequences. In the end, your thumb hit the accept button before you could regret it.

He could hear you breathing but not much else. Silent treatment it is then. He braved the unknown and spoke first.

"You alright?"

That was his intro? You didn't know what you were expecting him to say but it wasn't that. You choked out a dry laugh and stared at the black walls of your childhood bedroom.

The full wall of pictures held so many memories, it was like viewing your life in the third person. From middle school selfies to poetry night with the club, to prom, and then graduation—everything was there in stunning clarity. Except for a noticeable gap in time. The dark paint had chipped from where you ripped photos off the wall in anger. A blimp of your life, torn from your wall stared back, taunting you.

You'll never forget the pain you experienced that day. You vowed to not let another man hurt you.

It gave you the motivation to reply. "No."

Joker hummed and you heard something metallic clicking together in the background. "I'll come get—"

"I wasn't expecting you to kill someone in front of me today." You muttered. Joker didn't seem phased by the sudden change of subject, although it took him a second longer to respond.

"If I'd known you were there..."

"Oh you what?" You sneered, "You wouldn't have killed them? Yeah right. Or or... maybe you would've waited until I was gone to unleash your madness! You really think that shielding me from your line of work masks the fact that you still do it? I know who you are. I know what you do... It's just... getting a visual reminder is..." Your voice cracked at the end with a wet sob.

"Jarring?" Joker suggested.

Mind the fact that this was your first phone call with Joker, he sounded vastly different than the murderous clown you encountered back at the restaurant.

This Joker loved you; you could tell by the lack of his unique speech pattern. He spoke softly and from the heart. His sigh however was strained, and you noted that he sounded a tad bit exhausted.

It was Joker's turn to change the subject. "You looked beautiful tonight. Sorry I couldn't tell you in person, Princess."

In any other situation that nickname would've stirred butterflies in your stomach. You found a pretty printed two-piece outfit while out at the mall to wear for the day. The jewelry and heels you came to Blüdhaven in matched the ensemble perfectly. A shame Joker splattered blood all over it.

"I know what you're doing Joker." You whispered. The walls at your parent's home weren't soundproof unlike in your penthouse, so you had to be careful. "You won't distract me from the truth."

"B-Bunny.. I don't—"

"Yes you do know. Please... I am begging you. If you claim to l.. ahem, l-love me at all, don't do this. Some things are best left in the past. Finding him will change nothing."

He just didn't understand it! Why weren't you demanding justice or better yet cold hard revenge? Victims were usually angry at their aggressor. You were apathetic. If you weren't going to express anger, Joker would on your behalf.

"He deserves to die for what he did to you. If you'll let me..."

Joker stopped talking when he heard a sniffle. The power your tears had over him should be academically studied. And that same power resonated when you responded bitterly in J's ear.

"What I want you to do is forget that anything happened! No one in this stupid city believes anything did, so... let it go, J. Please. Angering the Bicchieri's will lead to nothing but violence and dead ends. No. One. Cares! Why should you?"

Several minutes passed after your outburst. You assumed that Joker had hung up, but his voice came through the receiver, matching your energy.

"Why should I care? Why should I..." He growled under his breath, and you swore you heard glass breaking in the background.

His heavy breathing was loud in your ear. Joker was in rare form. "I can show you better than I can tell ya Y/n. Watch me."

The line disconnected before you could utter another word.

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ryin-silverfish · 10 months ago

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Into the Erlang-verse: Li, Zhao, Yang

-This is something I wrote for fun and reference purposes, back when I was starting to seriously get into Chinese mythology. As such, there is no citations, and is meant to be more of a general introduction to Erlang Shen in pre-modern writings.

(Emphasis on "pre-modern", because, as much as I love the Lotus Lantern + Prequel TV series, it's just a little frustrating to see people taking the shows' version as the end-all-be-all of such a complicated deity, y'know?)

-Anyways, much like Nezha, his Archery Accident Bro, Erlang has what I'd refer to as his "Pop Culture Form": Handsome three-eyed warrior god wielding a three-pronged spear, accompanied by his doggo Xiaotian Quan(Literally "Skyhowler"), going by the surname "Yang", jade emperor's nephew, etc.

-However, The Second Lad is an even messier amalgamation of deities worshiped in different parts of China, even in his supposed "home domain", Sichuan. Here, I'm only gonna talk about the most well-known and significant Erlangs.

(Not even gonna go into the possible Zoroastrian influences and the Dujian thing...)

1. Lord of Sichuan, "Li Erlang"

Key words: Hydraulic engineer, based on a historical official and his son, fierce competitor with Zhao Erlang for the Lord of Sichuan title

Weapons: Knowledge

Power: Can turn into a bull/dragon

Pets: N/A

"Who's Yang Jian? I've been watching over Sichuan since the Qin dynasty."

Li Bing was a pretty typical case of famous historical figure being worshiped as gods posthumously; born in the Warring States era, this official was put in charge of the Shu Prefecture (modern Chengdu) by King Zhao of Qin, and he was known as the creator of Dujiang Yan, an ancient irrigation + flood control project.

Later Tang legends deified him with a bunch of traditional "Flood-control hero" tropes taken from Yu the Great (heads up JTTW readers, SWK's staff is originally his extendable ruler), mostly the "hero turn into a giant animal" and "fight and subdue local water demons" aspect.

Though he wasn't yet known as an Erlang, or gained a son called Erlang as later folklore would have it, Li Bing's worship began in the Eastern Han dynasty, and he had a long tradition as Sichuan's guardian deity.

Even as later versions of Erlang began to populate, in the Qing dynasty, people of the province were still like "Our Lord of Sichuan is Li Bing/Li Erlang, not Yang Jian, as the novels would have you believe!"

What made Li Bing and his likely nonexistent son into "Li Erlang" could be traced to the two "warlord states" that occupied Sichuan after the fall of Tang dynasty: both states tried to use the Lord of Sichuan worship to strengthen their own legitimacy, and passed decrees that 1) said Erlang was Li Bing's son and 2) granted both father and son honorable titles, as mentioned in Song dynasty records.

However, due to the association of Erlang with previous warlord states, the first emperor of Song had reassigned Li Bing a lesser title and taken away his son's title altogether, reducing him to just "God of Guankou", and worshippers were quite disgruntled by the change; there was even a rebellion using the Guankou worship rituals to legitimize itself, a decade after said emperor's death.

Fun fact: when I went to the Two Lord’s Temple (of Li Bing and Li Erlang) in Dujiangyan, even though the god worshipped in the main hall was supposed to be Li Erlang, the plaque next to it still said something like "Li Erlang, also known as Yang Jian"...

Which really shows just how influential FSYY is on popular worship, to the point of overshadowing older incarnations of certain deities.

2. Immortal Master of Illustrious Sagacity, "Zhao Erlang"

Key words: Chief of Jiazhou Prefecture, dragon slayer, No.2 violator of archery safety (first place goes to Nezha)

Weapons: A scribing tablet, slingshot, sword, bow and arrows

Power: Supernatural strength, monstrous giant form

Pets: unnamed white horse, hunting hawks and hounds

"C'mon, my aim isn't that bad! What happened in the Zaju was a one-time thing!"

The prototypical Taoist Erlang, his name, "Zhao Yu"(赵昱) first appeared in a Song dynasty source. At this point, the story of Erlang was mainly defined by two traits: 1) was, or was related to an official in charge of Sichuan in bygone times and 2) Did heroic flood control stuff, probably through dragon-slaying.

One notable strand of local worship was the "God of Guankou"; historical records mentioned that people sacrificed hundreds and hundreds of goats to him, as well as a regional festival in Sichuan where people played out his confrontation with dragons. It coexisted and entwined with the "Lord of Sichuan" worship, until the Song dynasty.

In typical Song dynasty fashion, the officials decided to give their own official title to this...Erlang/Lord of Sichuan/God of Guankou guy, bringing our titular "Zhao Erlang" into existence.

Also a deified official from the Tang dynasty, his image was more heavily influenced by Taoism (historically popular in Sichuan) and centered around one of its holy places, Mt. Qingcheng, which just happened to be quite close to Dujiang Yan.

Though in the Northern Song dynasty, the state-recognized Erlang was still "Li Erlang", the Taoist Zhao Erlang had proven himself to be a strong competitor by the Southern Song and Yuan dynasty, thanks to a massive amount of opera plays.

First we have SJSSDQ (三教搜神大全, Yuan Dynasty), an encyclopedia of Buddhist, Taoist and Confucian gods, where his traditional backstory as an ascended mortal official was combined with the dragon-slaying feat to nudge Erlang toward a more warrior-esque image, a hunting god who appeared on a white horse with his entourage of hunters.

-We also got the first mention of what would become his six/seven sworn brothers; the "Seven Sages" who jumped into the water to assist him in the dragon fight.

Then we have two Yuan-Ming Zaju plays, "Erlang of Guankou Slays the Jian-jiao"(灌口二郎斩健蛟) and "Erlang Drunkenly Shot the Demon-locking Mirror" (二郎神醉射锁魔镜), in which many traits associated with JTTW's Yang Erlang could already be seen: first, his three-pronged weapon, seven brothers and bow/arrows, second, the naming of his brothers as the "Seven Sages of Mt. Mei" and his ability to shift into a "true form", aka the monstrous giant form he used in JTTW.

(The plot of the second Zaju is exactly like it sounds: Erlang and Nezha had a drunken archery competition, accidentally broke the Demon-locking Mirror and released the Bull Demon King + Hundred-Eyed Demon, and spent the rest of the play doing damage control.)

3. The Little Sage, "Yang Erlang" (JTTW)

Key words: Jade Emperor's nephew, cleaver of Peach Mountain, SWK's true equal in battle

Weapons: Three-pronged, Double-bladed Spear, slingshot, bow and arrows, axe

Power: transformations, Cosmic Body, divine sight/Phoenix Eye(?)

Pets: a celestial Xiquan, literally "Thin Dog"

"First time we met, and that monkey made fun of my origins as a conversation opener. Could you believe it."

The Man, The Myth, The Legend! As I said before, a lot of his traits were inherited from "Zhao Erlang", including his Taoist title, his temple at Guankou, etc.

However, Erlang being Jade Emperor's nephew seemed to be mostly popularized by JTTW: the only other work that might have given Erlang this backstory was The Precious Scroll of Erlang, previously dated to the 1560s, though a Chinese paper published in 2018 proposed a later creation date (1620s).

Much like JTTW Nezha, his backstory was somewhat barebones: we knew from SWK's taunt that his mother was the Jade Emperor's sister, who got chummy with Yang the mortal, gave birth to him, and was presumably locked under the Peach Mountain for that, bc Erlang then rescued her by cleaving it in half with an ax.

(Sounds familiar? The same backstory would later be copied over to Erlang's nephew, in the Lotus Lantern legends)

His other notable feats include falling 2 phoenix with his slingshot, as well as slaying the "Seven Demons of Mt. Mei ''. Out of pride, he chose to remain in Guankou instead of associating with his heavenly relatives, and did not answer to general summons to court from the Jade Emperor, only taking special assignments (听调不听宣).

Apart from his famous fight with SWK, Erlang also appeared in JTTW chapter 63, where, together with his sworn brothers, he helped the pilgrims fight the Nine-Headed Wyrm, son-in-law of Bibo Lake's dragon king. His dog continues to be the MVP in this fight, biting off one of the demon's heads, leaving it wounded and fleeing toward the north sea.

Though the description of his battle with SWK implied that he did have some sort of supernatural sight, at this point in time (Ming dynasty), Erlang wasn't yet depicted with a third eye in artworks and literature.

There are a small amount of evidence that suggest the third eye thing might have shown up in statues of this period, though.

4. Master of the Ninefold Mystic Way, "Yang Jian" (FSYY)

Key words: Disciple of the Taoist sage Yuding, veteran of the Investiture War, Nezha's comrade-in-arms

Weapons: Three-pronged Spear, slingshot

Power: Ninefold Mystic Way, 72 transformations, invulnerable to physical attacks, Samadhi Fire (in FSYY it's on the same level as a D&D wizard's Fireball spell)

Pets: Howling Celestial Dog, unnamed white horse

"I fought a transforming monkey demon too!"

Fun fact: the guy whose name was most often taken as Erlang's "real name" by pop culture was never actually referred to as "Erlang" in his debut novel. Could ya believe it.

Quick, dirty summary of FSYY: kinda like the Chinese Iliad, about the overthrowing of Shang dynasty and its tyrannical King Zhou by King Wu of Zhou, with a dash of Taoist infightings, and almost everyone who died in the fight got revived as gods and became part of the celestial bureaucracy, thus "Investiture of the Gods".

Under the order of his master, the Taoist sage Yuding (literally "jade tripod"), Yang Jian makes his first cameo in chapter 40 to assist his senior, Jiang Ziya, in the fight against the Four Generals of Clan Mo.

A master in the arts of the Ninefold Mystic Way and 72 transformations, he has the same divine title as Zhao Erlang and is considered "A Sage in Flesh" after the end of FSYY.

As such, he's able to survive getting eaten by a monstrous weasel, a metal whip in the forehead, graphic disembowelment, etc. and used his transformation skills for some SWK-style "beating people up from inside their stomachs".

On one very notable occasion, he transformed into a beautiful palace consort to dupe Tu Xingsun ("Earth-traveling Son") and capture him.

Oh, and also, on his way to get Tu Xingsun's master, he ran into this random demon in a lake, who led him into a cave. After he got inside, the demon just disappeared, leaving him with the Three-pronged Two-bladed Spear, as well as some nice bling.

Then two kids burst in, accused him of stealing the bling, and...instantly became his students after learning his name? Yeah that was a weird sidequest.

However, Yang Jian's most iconic battle is probably his fight with Yuan Hong, the White Ape of Plum Mountain...who also practiced the Ninefold Mystics, used an iron cudgel, and were sworn brothers with six/seven demon kings.

Only with the help of Nvwa's magical painting, the Shanhe Sheji Scroll, was Yang Jian able to capture the ape, and subsequently, let Jiang Ziya decapitate him with Sage Luya's Immortal Slaying Flying Knife.

When the Three Demonesses were caught and executed at the end of the book, he was the one responsible for slaying the Nine-headed Pheasant Demoness, which is a neat parallel with JTTW.

His Howling Celestial Dog appears in chapter 47, and is even more of an MVP in fights: 12 immortals and demons have been bitten by this dog, which was "as large as a white elephant and as swift as an owl".

Funnily enough, every time Yang Jian summoned his hound, it is described in the same way as, say, other immortals may summon a flying sword, and my mental image is just him yeeting his giant monster dog at the enemy like you'd throw a Pokeball.

(A list of everyone Xiaotian had bitten in FSYY: Zhao Gongming, his sister Bixiao, Xinhuan, Deng Chanyu, Zhou Xin, Hua Huan, the Winged Immortal, Yuyan, Lv Yue, Yu Hualong, Dai Li the dog demon, the Nine-headed Pheasant Demon.)

Conclusion:

-The way I see it: Li is the Erlang of regional worship, Zhao is the Erlang of Zaju plays, and Yang is the Erlang of vernacular novels, who becomes super popular and overshadows his two predecessors.

-And Erlang's depiction in premodern Lotus Lantern tales is what we in the business call "a whole new can of worms". But that's a series for another day.

#erlang shen #chinese mythology #chinese folklore #journey to the west #investiture of the gods #fengshen yanyi #xiyouji #yang jian

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ineffable-opinions · 1 month ago

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