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#'i'm a horrible writer and should never write again'
starkerscoop · 11 months
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Courting an Omega, Tony Stark-Style has over 1,000 kudos???? I’m in shock but so, so happy. I only just noticed. Thank you to everyone who enjoyed my fic ☺ This is my first time reaching that number! 
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lillithhearts · 2 months
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I saw that you didn't have any ideas for the 3rd prompt so maybeeee the moment Alastor makes a deal with the reader and he's all like "jeje all this power for the small price of my soul" and then the readers like "nu-uh that's not a small price actually, I'm gonna treat you horribly" and then it dawns on him that he literally sold his soul. :P
Or after the fight with Adam the reader like goes to rub it in Alastors face by helping him patch up and stuff after hearing him sing about him trying to find a way to get out of their deal.
Also manic Alastor giggles 💕✨💖
Whichever you want if you want, don't want you to feel pressured or stressed!
Also I am loving the Rosie and Alastor fics you've been writing they are amazing! 💖 You are definitely my fav hazbin writer ✨✨
As always, drink water and eat a snack!
✨ anon
Alastor x Overlord!Reader˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
ׂׂૢ pairing : Alastor x Reader
ׂׂૢ cw: Not proofread, abuse of power, Reader being mean (in a loving (not really) way)
ׂׂૢ reader is gender neutral
𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. . .
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While quietly walking among the broken remains of the hotel your eyes scanned every piece of debris watching the dust settle from the violent, bloody fight you witnessed; stepping in Yellow glowing blood you paid no mind before your eyes slowly trailed to the trail of red blood; back to a very familiar spot that you knew all too well, with a shrug of your shoulders and a deep breath you, you made your way to the tower; the blood of your dearest soul sticking to the sole of your shoe.
Arriving at the shattered and battered radio tower, you easily hoisted yourself up into it; not making the slightest effort at keeping your presence unknown to Alastor who was hunched over his control panel; rigid, shallow fast breaths while his chest heaved; you smugly watched his ears flatten further upon his realization of who had found him, his gaze shifting to meet yours after a few seconds his body too, turning to you; revealing that nasty gash on his chest his eyes seemed heavy, his smile strained; wince and pained expressions contorting as you tutted at the Overlord while walking up to him; gently undoing the layers to get to the gash, his hand raised; hesitating to stop you his hand quickly retreating back to the control panel with one sharp glare from you.
"you should be more careful. Look at you, I thought I didn't need to see you this truly pathetic again"
Your words cut through him as his eyes averted every inch of you; shame, embarrassment and humiliation washing over his weakened body before he leaned more into the control panel, his sharp nails digging further into the metal surface at the next venom laced words coming out your mouth
"oh. So because you're hurt means you no longer answer me, Alastor?"
"no,no you're right I'm sorry, I should've been more careful"
The sweat dripping from his forehead while one of his eyes lingered on you watching you meticulously work on his fresh wound, your face didn't match your hands gentleness however; your eyes filled with annoyance and hints of just pure anger; you had better things to do then take care of his pathetic self; he had felt your tug when he was hit, essentially further convincing him to get the fuck out of there; the second he was away he knew he'd never hear the end of it from you; and now his flattened ears are listening those very said words.
"I thought you were a powerful overlord, you honestly thought this would've been a good idea? It seemed I underestimated you"
Every new word, every new insult and comment made him wince again and again while glancing at you looking for perhaps a sign you'd soon let up with your entourage of sickly words, not helped by the sly smug smirk very abhorrent smirk on your face, Alastors eyes met yours; seeing a glint in your orbs, God how he hated being infront of you it always felt so overwhelmingly humiliation under your precise watch.
"you can be glad I saved you last minute, honestly why do I need to save you every time, The leader of the exorcists; did you think he'd be an easy fight? Or did you go into that fight wanting to embarrass me?"
The silence in the broken radio tower was thick and deafening, Alastor shallowed the lump in his throat and opened his mouth, trying to look at you, looking for even the slightest bit of worry in your eyes, trying to find even a sliver of you that actually cares about him, quickly snapping back when he felt a rough hand grab his jaw and pulling to kneel over while his body tensed at the pain shooting through his body
"answer me, before you lose that tongue of yours."
His breathing quickened and his clawed hand gently came to hold your wrist, seeing him fighting to regain his composure.
"i— I don't know what I was thinking, that was stupid of me..I apologize"
"hm. So you can listen. Pull yourself together"
You let go of his jaw, clearing your throat and stepping away from him; turning your back to the Overlord and leaving through the hatch you come through; leaving Alastor stood there with a gentler hand replacing the one you had, the other one hovering over the cleaned and patched up wound.
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Author's note : man...I GOT A LIL LAZY AT THR END....I KINDA HATE THISSS
Taglist : @k1y0yo @ihavetoomanyfictionalcrushes @d0nutsaur @anni1600
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u10como · 28 days
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Some time ago, i released this picture on my DA with a caption, later suppplemented by a short story expanding on the theme, followed by personal afterword regarding my background and themes of the story, which i now decided to present here on tumblr, all joined into one text. Once again, english isn't my first language, it was one of the first longer pieces i wrote and i'm by no means a writer, but i hope some of you might enjoy it nonetheless.
Hope you don't mind
You met her on an online forum about your favourite band and you've been messaging for a month now. She was just perfect: Funny, smart and as far as you were aware she was really interested in you, but everytime you suggested meeting somewhere, she said she's either busy or just changed the subject. Not wanting to push her, you gave her some time to think about it.
One morning a message from her, accompanied by a photo landed in your inbox:
"So...this isn't easy for me, but you seem like genuinely good person and i'd hate myself if i passed that opportunity  because i was insecure. Anyway, this is me. I had an accident with high voltage  power lines six months ago and i'm still insecure about meeting new people or going in public in general.
If you feel weird about it i completely understand and won't bother you any more, but if you still want to meet, i know a nice little pizzeria just around corner from where i live. The owner is an old family friend and could arrange a small room in the back for us so people won't stare."
Why should i mind?
As you read the message over and over, your mind is racing, filled with mixed emotions. On one hand, you're relieved – she really wants to meet you after all. On the other hand you can't help but feel sad – such a beautiful, smart girl, full of life, suffering from such horrible injury. Of course, you never for a second consider saying no to her proposition – she is still the great girl you messaged with the past month. You immediately write your reply:
„Hey! Of course i still want to meet you - i've been asking to meet you for some time now and nothing changed about that! Today, 4 in the afternoon works for you? Just tell me where the pizzeria is and i'll wait for you there.“
In few minutes she replied:
„Oh, you can't believe how relieved i am – thank you for not being weird about it! Yes, 4 will be perfect time. The pizzeria is Giovanni's on the corner of Oak and Harbor st – just tell the owner you're Jana's friend, he'll seat you in the back.“
„Well… I have a date!“ you think to yourself. Rummaging through your wardrobe you struggle to find anything you'll be satisfied with – going all dressed up like to prom seems like overkill, but you don't want to come all casual either – after all, you really care for her and you want to show it. In the end you settle for your least worn cargo pants with a T-shirt of your favorite band – you know she likes them too, so you hope this might outweigh your otherwise way too casual look. You set off early, intending to buy flowers for her. After careful consideration, you buy a nice bouquet of seven pink carnations and set off to Giovanni's.
As you step inside ten minutes before 4, the owner – a rather short, somewhat overweight yet muscular man with large hands and a bushy mustache above his friendly smile greets you. „Welcome to Giovanni's, what can i do for you?“ „Uhm, hello, i am Friend of Jana…“ „Oh, Wonderful, wonderful!“ the owner interrupts you with a big warm smile, A friend of our little Jana is my friend too! Right this way, have a seat, i'll bring you a vase for these beautiful flowers. Care for a drink in the mean time?“ „Yes, i saw you serve a homemade lemonade, please.“ you answer. „A wonderful choice! Comming right up!“ says the owner with a wide smile.
With that, the owner runs back front, returning in half a minute with your lemonade served in beautiful tall glass with pieces of lemon, lime and mint leaves, toped with a bright red straw. „Here you go! When Jana arrives i'll send her right away. Now, if i may ask, when did you two met? Pardon me for asking what might be a personal question, but you see, being friends with her parents ever since i moved here, Jana is like niece to me.“ "Oh, don't apologise, i understand.“, you reply, “To be frank, we haven't met in person yet, we were just chatting over internet and i really liked her – and the feeling was mutual, dare i presume.“ „I see“, says the owner, „So you know about…?“, He struggles to put his thoughts to words, instead just shrugs his shoulders one by one.
„Oh? Oh! Yes, i do. In fact, she told me just this morning.“ „I was just asking.“, nods the owner, „You see, our poor little Jana suffered enough. I just don't want her to leave today with a broken heart, so i wanted to make sure you won't freak out or something.“ „Oh no, don't worry, sir. I was asking her for a meetup for two weeks before i knew about it. I liked her before i knew about it and i don't see why it should change anything.“ The owner nods his head „I see. You're good in my books then, kid. I'm glad Jana found someone so understanding.“ He pats your shoulder as he says that.
There is a ring from the little bell above entrance and a young woman's voice calls:
„Uncle Tigran, are you there?“ „That's her.“ Says the owner and rushes off to the front. „My little Jana, it's so nice to see you again! Your friend is in the back, go, have some fun, and when you're ready, call me and i'll be right back to take your order.“
You stand up to greet her. In few seconds, she peeks inside the room with a shy, almost affraid look on her face. As your eyes meet, she smiles at you and you smile back. Despite the smile, her green eyes show a hint of timid apprehension. As she steps in, you notice her motionless hands, convincing at first glance, but knowing her condition, obviously artificial.
"Hi, nice to finally meet you", you say, holding the bouquet of carnations forward. "Oh, these are beautiful, thank you, she says, leaning in to smell them. Looking into her beautiful green eyes, your heart flutters with happiness.
„I'm really so glad to finally meet you in person“ you say. „You're even more beautiful than on the photo .“
„Oh, thank you. Nobody said such thing to me since…“ she pauses, looking into distance. After few seconds she breaks off, shyly attempting to smile on you. „Anyway, would you mind helping me with my coat?“ „Of course, right away“, you say as you move in to unbutton it. As you remove her coat, the prosthetic arms slip off her shoulders, staying firmly inside the coat's sleeves, letting her little arm stumps show. „Oh, sorry, i didn't mean to, let me…“ you stammer an apology.
„No, that's allright. They were meant to come off. I should have told you. I wear them on the street to avoid the stares, but they are so uncomfortable, so since here i am among people who know about me, i just hooked them to the coat so i don't have to wear them all the time.“
As you sit on the opposite sides of the table, you suddenly don't know what to say. You see she is uncomfortable, so you try to steer the conversation a different way.
„So… This pizzeria – It's named Giovanni's, but i heard you call the owner a different name?“
„Oh yes, uncle Tigran gave this establishment italian sounding name as marketing trick. He is great, though, one of the best pizza chefs around. He says he spent five years in Naples learning about local cuisine, actually. I understand you already talked with him?“
„Oh yes, he seems like really nice, but no-nonsense kind of guy. Told me you're like a niece to him and warned me not to break your heart. Not that i intended to, anyway.“, you add with a smile.
„Yeah, uncle Tigran was always nice to me. He visited me in the hospital almost daily when i…“ once again, Jana's gaze slides into distance.
„You don't have to talk about it, i'm sorry if i reminded you in any way.“ You say hastily.
„Oh? No, don't apologize, you did nothing wrong, it's just… Everything reminds me, you know? Wherever i go, whatever i do, every single thing reminds me i no longer…“ she pauses and sighs, lifting her stumps to illustrate her point before continuing „…have arms. Waking up in the morning, i try to lift my blanket and these useless things just flap about helplessly. Reaching for things, trying to do any simple task, even steadying myself when i trip – everything i do i must remind myself i can't do it the normal way anymore. If it was just one i could deal with it, but like this? I feel so helpless sometimes. The first few weeks in the hospital i had to bother the nurses everytime my nose got itchy, not to mention i had to be showered by them, just standing there, leting them clean me off. Tt felt so dehumanising... I'm sorry i spilled all this on you, it's my problem and i should deal with it myself, you don't have to think about it.“ She averts her eyes, looking down into the table.
„Jana,“, you say, „If i wanted not to think about it i wouldn't be here with you – and that would make me quite a bad person, don't you think? I came because i liked you from the moment we started chatting, long before i ever saw you. If there is anything i can do to help you – even if it would be just to stand by your side to always be able to remind you how great person you are whenever should you doubt yourself – i want to be there and help you.“
With tears welling in her eyes, Jana lifts her head „Really? You would do that for me?“
„Of course i would. You are smart, funny and stunningly beautiful. If i can help it, i wish for you never to be sad again“, you reach over the table with a tissue to wipe the tears from her cheeks.
„Thank you,“ she says, suppressing tears, visibly moved. „I never thought i would hear anybody say that to me. Come on - let's order some food, i'm starving.“
As if waiting for his cue, the owner comes in with a big smile „So, what would you want, my dears? We have excellent Margherita Napoletana, but if you're not into traditional pizza, i might do a regular New York style. Most people prefer that, anyway – beats me why, though, there's nothing better than proper traditional italian pie.“
„I think i could go for your Napoletana, Jana told me you're one of the best pizza chefs around, mister… uhh…“ „Tigran Manukyan, at your service.“, he replies with maybe a little too deep bow, „I presume our little Jana here told you about my little trick already, so why should i hide it anymore? Anyway, what can i offer you, my darling?“ says mister Manukyan turning to Jana. „I'll take the Napoletana too, uncle Tigran. And might i ask you for a glass of that lemonade too? It looks so refreshing.“ „Comming right up, my dears“, says mister Manukyan and rushes off.
„So… Where were we?“ asks Jana. „Well,“ you say, „I just told you you're beautiful and i wish to be always there for you.“
„Oh…“ she pauses, but smiles, finally seeming to be at ease, „I mean… Thank you. I'm sorry, I've became quite bad at taking compliments lately – not that i ever was any good to begin with, but now… i mean, you know, with my…“ she says, wiggling her arm stumps.
„You don't have to explain yourself, i understand“, you calm her, „Jusk know you are beautiful to me and nothing can ever change that. In fact, you were beautiful to me long before i knew how you even look, when we were still just chatting.“
Mister Manukyan comes with Jana's glass of lemonade and a pitcher „I brought you two some more for refills – on the house of course. The pizzas will be done in few minutes.“ Almost unisono, you and Jana reply „Thank you, mister Manukyan /Thank you, uncle Tigran“ and with a smile, he leaves.
„Anyway,“ says Jana, „I know you're telling me that just to make me feel better. Why would somebody as cute as you consider someone ‚beautiful‘ just from an online chat?“ she says, leaning forward for the straw and taking a sip from her drink.
„Maybe because i found a great person to talk to and spend time with.“ You reply, looking directly into Jana's eyes. „Maybe i don't care about looks that much. Maybe i think beauty is not only based on somebody's looks. And maybe, or not as much maybe as quite undeniably surely, you are actually beautiful even if i would step so low as to judge you just by your looks. You have pretty face, beautiful hair and the most captivating emerald eyes i've ever seen. But even without that, you are above all the brave, smart girl i came to know and love – and nothing can change that.“
„Brave? How am i brave? I spent half a year hiding from world, almost never leaving my room unless i had to.“ Replied Jana.
„Yet you came here and invited me.“, you say, “You overcame your anxiety and reached out. That alone was braver than most people would ever hope to be. All i ask of you is to believe in yourself as i believe in you. You are the bravest girl in know and i love you for that.“
„I love you too“, she says, hint of tears in her eyes once again as she shifts closer to you with her arm stumps outstretched. Understanding the hint, you hug her, gently stroking her hair with your hand.
„Oh, young love, what a beautiful sight!“ says mister Manukyan as he comes in with your pizzas in each hand „Here is your food, my dears, Bari Akhorzhak to you both!“
„Uncle Tigran,“ says Jana, lifting her head from your shoulders, „this was the first time ever i heard you speaking Armenian in your pizzeria.“
„Well, i figured i might as well drop the act, my dear.“ said mister Manukyan with a smile. „Pizza is my passion and my living, but i'm no Italian and never will be. Maybe it's time for me to fly my true colors with pride. People come here for good food, not for fake Italian. Of course, a name change would be required, then, but i hope people would come nonetheless. After all ‚Uncle Tigran's‘ has a nice ring to it, no? And i might as well put some of my old family recipes on the menu. Next time you come, i'll make you the best Lahmajoun you ever had, i promise!“
„That would be really great, mister Manukyan“, you say with enthusiasm, „I'm looking forward to it.“
As mister Manukyan leaves with a big, warm smile, you and Jana sit to your pizzas. "Do you need any help?" you ask. "No." says Jana almost too quickly. "Well yes, probably, but i shouldn't. I need to do this on my own - i mean, there won't always be somebody around to help me, but i will be always armless, you know?" You notice her suddenly easing up, as if adressing her condition out loud, without euphemisms or hesitating helped her finally come to terms with it. "Would you mind helping me taking off my shoes, though?"
"Of course", you say as you kneel and gently lift her right foot in your hand, taking off her shoe and sock, then doing the same with her left foot. "Thank you. You're a real sweetheart" she says, lifting her feet up to the tabletop, awkwardly picking the fork with her left foot and knife with the right. As you sit on the opposite side of table, you can't take your eyes off her while she cuts a small piece of her pizza and using the fork in her left food brings it to her mouth with a great effort.
"Oooh!" she smiles with pleasure as she savors the food in her mouth, "I almost forgot how great uncle Tigran's pizzas are! You should eat too while it's hot." Taking a bite from your own pizza, you must agree - this is certainly the best pizza you ever had. As you both eat, you notice Jana's movements becoming ever so slightly more fluent and relaxed with each bite. you can't help but stop and look at her, smiling.
"What? Is something on my face?" she asks as she starts rubbing her nose with her right stump. "No, it's just... When you came you were all tense and apprehensive, but now you seem to ease up." "I just know i'm in a good company", she says, shrugging her shoulders, "I mean, yeah, i knew you are funny and kind from the first time we started chatting, but now, you made me feel... appreciated, normal. Like i matter. I... probably just needed to hear that, you know? Like... from somebody outside of my family." "I see," you say, "But how come you weren't so shy when we were chatting on the forum?"
"I don't know, i guess the anonymity played a part, you know?" she ponders, "Like - on the internet, nobody sees me. Nobody knows. There's no way to tell whether the person on the other side is beautiful, ugly, thin, fat or uses toes to write. That probably helped me there."
"Tell me about it," you say. "Sometimes i feel anxious even making a phonecall, let alone talking to strange people in person!" "You?" she smiles "No way! You seem so cool and confident. After all, you asked me out first, i would have never had the guts to do it myself without you."
"The same magic of the anonymous internet as in your case" you reply, "And if i somehow seem confident now, it's only because i feel like we known each other for ages. It's hard to describe, but i feel like we were meant to be together, you know?"
setting down the knife, she extends her right foor over the table towards you, gently stroking your face with her big toe. Smiling, you take her foot in your hands, planting a soft kiss on her ankle. She giggles "That tickles! But... it feels nice." Kising her foot once again, you let go of it, looking deep into her green eyes with a warm smile. "So, are you up for a little stroll after we finish our pizzas?", you ask her. "Gladly!", she replies as she puts another piece i her mouth. "Do you have any specific place in mind?" "Well," you say, "I was thinking of just going for a walk, but if you want, we might go to the gazebo on the cliff above the city and watch the sunset together?" "Oh, romantic!" she exclaims with excitement. "I like that."
When you finish your pizzas, mister Manukyan comes in to clean up, almost as if he was waiting for his cue. "Enjoyed your food, my dears?" he asks, "Everything was up to your liking? "Of yourse, uncle Tigran," responds Jana with a smile, "I always loved your cooking."
As you leave Jana in the back to pay for the food, mister Manukyan says:
"Thank you for everything, kid. Jana really needed someone to just be there for her. She used to visit me every week, but since her accident she just moved back to her parent's house and stoped going out. I knew what she was going through, but i had no idea how to help. Turns out, all she really needed was for someone outside of her family to just treat her with love and respect and you did just that. I won't lie to you - i doubt if stuff would be just *poof* and everything is okay now, people just don't work like that and i am sure there is still a lot ahead of Jana before she's back to the cheerful self i remember from before her accident, but i feel like you really helped her make a big progress today. Once again, thank you for that."
"It was my pleasure, mister Manukyan." you replied, "She is great girl and i fell for her ever since we started chatting." "I'm glad to hear that. And please, you can call me Tigran", he says with a smile, "Or Uncle Tigran, whole town will know me like that anyway soon, at least i hope."
After shaking hands with mister Manukyan, you return to Jana, who is almost prepared to leave. As you help her tie her shoes loose enough so she can slip them on and off at will, you go fetch her coat.
"No, you can leave that here,", she says, "i'll talk with uncle Tigran and ask him to hide it somewhere so i can pick it up later."
"Are you sure? Your arms are in there, don't you want to put them on?"
"Not really. As i said, they are heavy and uncomfortable. Also, they are purely cosmetic, so aside from keeping people from staring, they are pretty much useless.", she said. "And if that means people will stare, then so be it. I need to get used to showing in public and i thought why not now, when i have you by my side?" "As you wish," you reply. "Shall we go, then?"
"Okay. I hope you don't mind being seen in public with a disabled girl"
"Being seen with beautiful smart girl i love? Why shuld i mind?"
A little afterword is due.
This story, while obviously coming from place of my attraction to women with, let's say, non-standard physique, in this particular case bilateral arm amputees, is a departure from my usual style. My usual character background snippets revolve around happier circumstances - my characters usualy lose their limbs voluntarily, non-permanently or in some obscure magic way, which, while it can't be assured to be temporary, has the peculiar side effect of making them weirdly okay with the changes.
This is not the case. In reality, a limb loss is a powerful traumatic experience to vast majority of people. Overcoming such trauma might take weeks, months, years even, and some people may never recover mentally. I felt like this point was worth mentioning and keeping in mind.
As for overall themes of this story, the main themes are hope, acceptance and dealing with adversity. In that sense, Jana's condition is a stand-in for number of problems which might cause a person to lose their sense of self-worth and shut themselves off from the world. If you are suffering from any condition causing you to feel that way, remember this: You Matter. You are loved. And while in real life, recovery will certainly not come as quickly as for Jana in my story, the point illustrated still stands: Some battles are not meant to be fought alone. Sometimes all you need is to find someone who will help you carrying your burden. Remember, that leaning on your friends in hard times isn't weakness. On the contrary, knowing when to ask for help is major strength. And if you do not suffer from any such problems, then please, be mindful of those who do. Be kind, accepting and unconditionally loving as our unnamed protagonist. After all, the protagonist is reffered as You, because they are supposed to represent the best in every single one of us. Man, woman, trans or non-binary, if you're reading this, i hope you will always be as unconditionally accepting as the protagonist is to Jana.
Some elements of the setting sort of come from my own experience. The overall setting of my stories is this usual culturally neutral americano-european mishmash, made for easier accesibility for wider audience, but certain characters or places might carry something from my personal experience. As some of you might know, i am Czech, so i decided to write Jana as one too - even though this might not be really apparent from anything beside her name, that is her intended nationality. Whether you imagine her as local, thinking of this story's setting as somewhere in Czechia or as immigrant to a foreign country of your choice is up to you. Also, the character of Tigran Manukyan is losely based on my own experience: Where i'm from, a lot of pizzerias are actually owned by people from Armenia, Georgia or Turkey and a lot of their owners are very similar to "uncle Tigran" both in their appearance and in their cheerful, friendly way of greeting their customers. Uncle Tigran's character arc is also about acceptance: Accepting own cultural heritage, because every culture is worth preserving.
So, this is the end of my little PSA. Respect each other, be tolerant to one another and try to help those whose life dealt them the worse hand.
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strangertheories · 2 years
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I'm talking about the bullying in this fandom yet again, because it's only getting worse from what I've seen on TikTok.
I'm convinced that all of the people going on about how awful the Stranger Things fandom have just never been in a fandom before. The things they list as cringe are fanon ships, headcanoning characters as queer, canon personality vs fanon personality, reader x character fanfic, cosplaying and fan conventions. Which is literally every fandom? People getting dressed up as characters they like and singing songs and dancing together is not a new thing. Even in the precious 2019 fandom, people would cosplay and sing Never Ending Story.
If this is what you think a wild toxic fandom looks like, then you're new to fandom culture. People are just having a bit of harmless fun, it's not like they're sending needle cookies or glass shard cupcakes to writers and fans (if you know, you know). Sure you might think it's cringy or get second hand embarrassment, but that's on you, not on fans just having a laugh and celebrating a show they like. Keep those thoughts to yourself and don't be a bully.
I also think it's really ironic because I feel like a lot of these fans are watching the show with their eyeballs glued shut or something. Your beloved characters from that show are "cringy nerds" too. They cosplay as Ghostbusters and sing the theme song. They love comic books and horror movies. They play Dungeons and Dragons. And people will watch the show, love these characters and then go bully fans in real life. I literally saw someone with an Eddie profile pic saying that alt people are to blame for the fandom becoming cringy. They'll say they're most like Mike or Lucas or whoever else but if you bully people for being nerds, chances are you're a lot more like Angela or Troy.
The issue with this fandom isn't people cosplaying or writing fanfic; it's bullying. If we're talking about this fandom not being good, let's talk about people bullying fans, let's talk about how horrible some of you treat Millie Bobby Brown, let's talk about how some fans are homophobic or sexist or racist or about the issues the show has with portraying minorities. Those are actual issues that we should speak about, not people having harmless fun. I'm not trying to be annoying or oversensitive or whatever but it's just so abundantly clear that all of the people calling this fandom cringe are not used to fandom culture.
PS stop trying to gatekeep the second most popular show of all time, everyone watches Stranger Things, deal with it.
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kokomyass · 3 months
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YAY I THOUGHT OF A REQUEST😄
I was thinking of inumaki x reader but obvi he cant talk so the others help to ask reader out (if that makes sense??😭)
also the reader is in the school aswell and in second person (you/your) & fem reader
💗💗
I LOVEEEEEEEEEEE YOUUUU THANKS FOR MAKING ME NOT LOOK LIKE A LOSER XXX
Toge Inumaki ☆ More Than Words
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Inumaki x Fem!Reader Genre: ☁️ Word Count: 2263 Trigger warnings ⚠️: swearing, none!!
a/n: THANK YOU LOML FOR REQUESTING THIS fun fact inumaki used to be my favourite at the beginning...guess who it is nowwww~
anyways I hope you enjoy and thank you so much for requesting this again!!! you make me feel like a successful famous writer which I am far from...
Second Person POV
For the entirety of his life, Inumaki silently cursed the existence of cursed speech as it often hindered him from truly expressing himself like everyone else.
One would not know how AMAZING speech is until you have to communicate using only food ingredients.
All conversations he had consisted of the other party blabbering away and him writing his replies. It wasn't a horrible idea but he often felt guilty as it was rather time consuming.
However you didn't care about the speech barrier. You liked Inumaki a lot and something like a silly speech barrier wasn't going to make you any less interested.
You would find everyway to try and spend time with him even if it meant sitting in a comfortable silence.
You were the only person Inumaki had felt himself with as your patience and eagerness to talk with him all the time gave him butterflies.
He couldn't help but fall for such a kind, caring understanding girl and he appreciated the fact that you were patient with him.
Initially, he would admire your beauty from afar since you were a first year and he didn't really have any business with you....but one day you randomly came up to him whilst he was getting a drink from the vending machine, enthusiastically asking what his name was and what his cursed technique was.
And all that brought him to this moment...
Desperately trying to ask for help on how to ask you out.
He was currently walking with Panda as he explained what Inumaki could do.
"I'm thinking...you have a picnic and ask her out there!"
"Bonito Flakes..." Inumaki shook his head as he typed on his phone, 'too cliché'
"...Okayyy what about you..."
Just as Panda was about to give Inumaki an idea your loud and gleeful voice was heard clearly.
"TOGE!!!" Inumaki turned around at the call of his name already knowing it was you as he ignored Panda's knowing smirk.
You stopped in front of him handing him a bag with onigiri in it.
"I made this for you!! I even put tuna mayo in, your favourite! I really hope you like it.." you look to the floor shyly as a light blush dusts your cheeks.
Inumaki goes bright red as he bows down as a thanks to you and he smiles brightly even though his mouth is covered.
"Thank you so much Y/N." you smiled and jump to hold him tight in your arms, causing him to blush even more from the shock but then eventually he wraps his arms around you.
Time Skip
Inumaki is now sat in a class room, asking all his friends what he should do because he desperately wants to ask you out but he just doesn't know how since saying it in heartfelt way is kind of out of the question due to his lack of speech.
"Who would've thought that Mr. Bonito Flakes would be so desperate about something like this." Maki said laughing slightly.
Inumaki rolled his eyes as he typed quickly on his phone. 'You are just jealous because you have never been in a relationship and don't have any good date ideas -_-'
Maki scoffed and stood up, very clearly fuming from Inumaki's (very true) statement.
"Ugh! You little fucker!! I don't want to be in a relationship anyway." Maki crossed her arms turning away.
"And I do have a good idea! You can buy flowers for her and write a little note." Maki smiled smugly as if her idea was the most original and mind-blowing in the world only to be met with dead stares.
"...Bonito Flakes."
"No offence Maki, that's a nice idea but it is rather boring..."  Megumi spoke up after a moment of silence as everyone nodded in agreement.
"Maki, I do adore you and all but....that's kinda dead...." Nobara chipped in respectfully.
"Well why don't you tell me your idea then, Sherlock!"
Megumi looked shocked as everyone's eyes turned to him expectantly as he composed himself.
"Well...Y/N likes sweet treats, right? So why don't you bake something for her?"
After yet another moment of silence, Maki decided to speak up.
"You know kid, that's not a bad idea..."
Everyone agreed that Megumi's idea was by far the best idea that had come up (trust Megumi to come up with things like that) the only thing left was for Inumaki to agree.
Inumaki loved the idea more that anything. Being able to show his love through an act of baking, something that meant a lot to you...it couldn't be better.
Although...one issue did arise....
Inumaki hasn't baked a day in his life.
"Just when we thought we had a good idea!" Maki sighed and slumped against the chair she was sat on after Inumaki explain his lack of ability to bake.
"Well...we can help." Megumi said calmly as Inumaki perked at the mention of his friends helping.
'Guys that would be amazing!! Please do help 🙏 ' Inumaki typed on his phone desperately as he was practically begging for help.
"I'm in of course! Anything for my best friend!" Panda chirped up getting Inumaki in a headlock.
"I'll help you, I think my skills will be useful." Megumi said shortly after.
"I guess shall help too, just don't get me too dirty..."Nobara sighed.
Everyone looked expectantly at Maki before she caved in.
"Ugh...I'll help...but only cause I want Inumaki to stop fangirling over her 24/7"
Just as they were about to commence their plan, a loud bang came from the door and you walked through with Yuji behind you with bags in his hands, looking as if he had travelled the 7 seas.
"Hello everyone!! I made little tarts for everyone and I also bought some drinks for you guys! Yuji gimme the bags." You snatch the bags that Yuji was holding as he collapsed on the chair next to Nobara.
"What the hell happened to you?"
"Y/N dragged me through the whole of Shibuya, just to buy a gift for Inumaki..." Just as Yuji finished his sentence, you had passed all the tarts and drinks around and now you were on Inumaki.
"Hi Toge!"
"Kelp!" you smiled at his quite voice as if he had said something so interesting.
"These are for you and...so...is this!" you pulled put a little bracelet that had an onigiri charm on it as you put it on for him.
Inumaki flushed a bright red as you carefully put the bracelet on for him.
"I hope you like it!" you smile warmly as you hold both his hands in yours.
He bows down in thanks before you sit next to him and start talking about your day forgetting everyone else around you.
"Damn they are really in love with each other huh, I wish he would ask her out..." Yuji mumbled loud enough for Nobara to hear.
"Right?...Oh yeah! I should tell you his plan..."
Time Skip!
"Okay, we need eggs, flour, vanilla extract..."
Megumi was droning on about ingredients as everyone crowded around the counter.
Inumaki had decided to make you a lunchbox cake asking you out because it was cute and romantic.
"Sometimes I wish Inumaki could speak cause then this wouldn't be necessary."
"Shut up Maki." Panda hushed Maki as they listened to Megumi's instructions.
"Okay let's get going."
Time Skip!
After 3 hours of turmoil and torture the lunchbox cake was finally finished and Inumaki himself was decorating it as everyone lounged around and Megumi stood helping Inumaki.
"Okay that looks perfect. Now you can put it in a box and find the right moment. I highly recommend you keep it AWAY from Gojo..."
"Salmon..." Inumaki smiled down warmly at the cake that had been made and he thought about the warm smile that would grace your face.
"Ugh I can't wait to see the power couple together!" Yuji said after noticing Inumaki's smile, making him blush a bright red and hiding behind the his coat.
"I thought I smelt cake!!"
Gojo's head peered around the door as everyone froze and stared at the slender, frightening man.
"It isn't for you." Megumi said coldly as you glared at his teacher.
"Dang Megumi! You must really want it huh! Well...when have I ever listen to you?" Gojo laughed maniacally as he walked towards where Inumaki was guarding the cake.
"BONITO FLAKES!!!" Inumaki shouted shocking everyone especially Gojo.
"Woah, I didn't know you could be that loud, I can't lie..." Gojo stood with his hands on his hips.
'This is for someone so you can't eat it at all.🥺'  Inumaki typed for Gojo to see and Gojo's face went from confusion to a knowing look.
"Oh this is for Y/N isn't it! I'm not stupid, you could've said." he walked away with his hands in his pockets wishing Inumaki the best of luck.
Time Skip!
You were currently waiting in the courtyard of the school sat on the floor looking at the sunset as you waited for Inumaki to appear.
20 minutes ago, he messaged you asking you to meet him in the courtyard and of course you didn't say no and you even left as soon as he sent the message.
So here you were staring at the sunset smiling and thinking about life.
Meanwhile, Inumaki is stressed as hell as everyone trys to hype him up.
'What if it isn't sentimental because I can't speak...'
"Inumaki, we all know what Y/N is like, she will accept this whether you can speak or not. Its the action that matters."
Everyone stared wide eyed at Maki as if she had never said a nice thing in her whole existence.
"What!? I'm giving good advice?! So what, how is it shocking!!??"
After the shock subsided, Inumaki thanked her warmly and nodded to everyone as his goodbye.
Inumaki walked up to your figure. He stopped to look at how beautiful you were.
Your features were kissed by the setting sun and your long eyelashes were evident as your eyes were shut.
You looked ethereal to Inumaki, it intimidated him...but it also made him happy to know that someone like you would pay attention to someone so unfortunate like he was.
"Kelp!" Inumaki called out for you and you slowly opened your eyes and lifted your head to see Inumaki stood infront of you, with his cheeks flushed and looking flustered.
"Toge! Take a seat!" you pat the spot on the floor next to you as you smiled warmly like you always did around him.
Inumaki sat down nervously shaking which didn't go unnoticed to your vigilant eyes, nor did the small box.
"Toge? Are you alright?" you bent forward slightly to take a look at his face. His eyes were screwed shut and his lips were trembling.
Before you could say anything else, Inumaki shoved the box in your hands and looked away trying to hide the deep, red blush on his face.
You looked shocked before you looked down at the box to see a small note written saying:
'A sweet treat for some so sweet like you!! I'm really glad I met you Y/N, and I want to be more than just friends with you...so please open this box for a small suprise. x From: Toge Inumaki'
Seeing what Inumaki wrote made you smile warmly and giggle, as you opened the box.
You were blessed with a small cake decorating in lots of love hearts with neat writing in the middle saying: 'Will you go out with me Y/N?'
Your heart leaped out of your chest as you silently sobbed tears of happiness.
Inumaki wanted to gage your reaction so he turnt to you slightly just to see you crying.
He took the cake box out of your hands and held your hands tightly. "Mustard Leaf?!" he was panicked and shaky from making you cry but to his suprise, you jumped up and hugged him making him fall over onto the floor as you sobbed in his shoulder.
"Toge, of course I will go out with you!! I like you so so so much!! This is the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me!!"
Inumaki smiled softly as he uttered out for the first time in forever, "I like you more."
You started crying even more due to the fact he spoke for the first time in words that were onigiri ingredients.
After a while you had calmed down and you were sat hand in hand.
'I thought you wouldn't fine my confession meaningful because I can't really say much...so I got the other to help me make this for you.' Inumaki typed out for you to read.
"Oh Toge, I will love anything and everything you do for me and to me this is more that words could ever express!!"
You hugged him once more as you stared at the setting sun in silence enjoying each other's company.
Words or no words, the relationship between the two of you would never be broken.
A lil bonussss!!!:
"AWWW THIS IS SOOO SWEET!!! ISN'T IT MAKI!!!"
Gojo decided to come out of no where and watch the romance unfold with the rest, getting a bit too passionate.
He was leant on Maki...which she obviously hated...
"GET OFF ME OLD MAN!!"
"HEY WHO ARE YOU CALLING OLD MAN? IM IN MY TWENTIES!"
"SHUT THE HELL UP YOUR APPROACHING 50 ALREADY!"
"Both of you shut up we have been caught."
Megumi butt in as Maki and Gojo turned to see you and Inumaki staring with the most disapproving looks on your faces.
"You guys kinda ruined an nice moment between us..."
"Salmon."
a/n: guys I DIED WRITING THIS WHY WAS MY HEAD THROBBING 😵‍💫😵‍💫I couldn't even edit it.... anyways hope you enjoyed (especially my no.1 bae 😍 who requested like the bestie she is love you so much mwah) 💜🎵💜🎵💜
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ukulelevillainwrites · 5 months
Text
who follows the rules anyway?
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9
complete
pairing : anthony lockwood x reader
word count : 6.7k
warnings : language ig?
content : a lot more plot, i'm settling all the elements i need to move forward and write pt8 (which i've been fantasizing and imagining since day 1 lol), reader meets Lucy and the gang finally has a plan
taglist : i've lost track lol @demigoddess-of-ghosts @cassiopeiia24 @archiveoftara
note : again i'm sorry this took so long, the weeks keep getting busier and the time flies by faster and i got hit with writer's block too at some point i think idk but i'm on vacation in three weeks and it should help (i hope) anyway i hope you enjoy :)
She didn’t know if she was still dreaming or not when she heard hurried footsteps climbing the stairs. She could hardly move and even though her eyes were open, all she could see were blurry shadows and the greenish light from the ghost lamp outside. For a moment she thought the voice she heard calling her name was her mind still playing tricks on her but the hands that grabbed hers were definitely real and convinced her she was awake. Someone turned on the light, blinding her. She blinked to see Lockwood sitting next to her on her bed, clutching her hands and asking if she was okay. George entered the room practically running, holding a rapier he must have taken just in case.
“We heard you screaming, what happened?” He asked, seemingly out of breath.
“I-I uh… um” She cleared her throat. “I gotta…”
She made a move to get out of bed.
“Come, we’ll make you some tea.”
George helped her up. Lockwood didn’t let go of her hand until she was out of reach with a concerned look on his face. He didn’t say anything, he just kept his gaze fixated on her.
George supported her down the stairs, though she didn’t really need it. But she felt bad that she woke them up, so she let him. Lockwood was in front of them, looking back every once in a while, to make sure she was okay. She must have really scared them to have them acting this way. Or they cared more about her than she realized.
They got down to the kitchen and Lockwood put the kettle on. George brought a blanket from the library to cover her, but she was still sweating from her dream and needed fresh air more than anything.
“So…” George started as he settled into the chair next to her.
“I had a nightmare.”
“Yes, we gathered that much…” Lockwood spoke for the first time in a while. His voice was hoarse, his tone serious. She would have felt like she was being reprimanded if his eyes hadn’t been so filled with worry. It made her want to apologize profusely.
“Though it sounded like you were getting murdered.” George added.
A heavy silence fell over the room. The two boys stared at her expectantly, waiting for an explanation.
“I tend to have intense dreams.” y/n finally said. “It doesn’t happen every time, but they can be very realistic. And that girl… I keep seeing her, but she never screamed at me like that.” She looked into her cup, images of the girl screaming at her flashing before her eyes.
“What girl?”
“I keep seeing this girl, she’s always telling me to find her and to look for her but I never know what she means. To be honest I had forgotten about her. But tonight, she just screamed at me, it was so loud you have no idea!”
“Actually, we sort of have an idea…” George said, burying his head between his arms. He looked like he was about to fall back asleep.
“I didn’t know I was actually screaming I’m sorry…”
“That girl screaming at you was all it took to wake us up in the middle of the night?” He mumbled.
“It’s not just that, I was in this haunted warehouse with agents attempting to clear it, the case went wrong, horribly wrong it was awful. I couldn’t move, I tried to help but I couldn’t do anything, I just stood there and watched.”
“Do you know who she is?” Lockwood asked. It looked like her story had piqued his interest.
“I have no idea… and I don’t know why I need to find her…”
“Maybe it’s just a dream, it doesn’t have to be a premonition. Don’t overthink it.”
“That way we could go back to sleep...” George said, his eyes now closed.
“You should go back to bed, I’m fine really. Thanks for the tea. And for checking up on me. That was sweet of you.”
They both gave her a warm smile. It made her feel even more guilty that she woke them up.
“George really you should get upstairs, you’re barely awake.”
He made a poor attempt at a protest but soon gave up and went back to his room. Lockwood was yawning too.
“You should go too, I’ll go back to the attic in a bit.”
“I’m not leaving you.”
“Lockwood really I’m fine.”
“I don’t care I’m staying until you get back to sleep.”
She settled back into her chair, sipping her tea in silence. Lockwood was standing against the countertop, doing the same thing. She put her cup back onto the Thinking Cloth and tried to bring up her legs closer to her chest. The chair was too small and she bumped her knee into the table.
Lockwood took her mug and left the room without a word. She wasn’t sure if she was supposed to follow him or if that was retribution for waking everyone up. She did anyway and found him in the library. He was settled on the couch, both their mugs resting on the coffee table beside it. She sat next to him and brought her legs up next to her, drawing her closer to him. She draped a blanket over her and took back her cup. Even though she was comfortable, her mind still hadn’t calmed down. She kept seeing images from her nightmare, the girl’s face screaming at her, the heavy doors closing on her teammates, sealing their fate. She was glad Lockwood stayed with her, his presence was comforting.
She finished her tea and put her mug down on the table.
“How are you feeling?”
“Better, thanks.” She said, sleepy-eyed.
“You should go back to bed, we have a lot to discuss tomorrow”
She stared at him wondering what he meant.
“Now that we’re officially involved in this whole Dufour mess we need to see how we’re going to clean it up.”
“Oh, right.”
“You look half asleep already, I’ll help you get back to the attic if you want.”
“No, don’t. I want to stay here, I don’t think I’d be able to fall back asleep in my room tonight.”
“Alright.” He hesitated. “I could… read to you if you’d like. It always helped me when I had nightmares as a kid.”
“I’m not a child!”
He was already picking a book from the bookshelf on the wall opposite the fireplace. He came back to settle next to her, bringing her closer and settling her head against his chest.
“If there’s one thing I’ve learned with you it’s that sometimes it’s nice to have someone looking out for you.”
“Oh really?” She teased, but she was too exhausted to really give him a hard time.
“You have to ask for help sometimes.”
“Says the guy who couldn’t ask someone to tie his tie for him.”
He nudged her leg with his foot with a laugh. She settled against his chest to get more comfortable and when she finally stopped moving, he started reading in a low voice. The monotonous tone he kept rocked her to sleep. His arms kept her warm. She could feel his steady heartbeat beneath her fingers. She nodded off almost immediately.
When she woke up, the sun was already high, bathing the room in a soft glow. She slowly opened her eyes, feeling an even breath in her hair. Lockwood was still asleep, looking much more peaceful than she had ever seen him. His arms were wrapped around her, keeping her warm. It was more comfortable than the time she woke up with George on the other side of the sofa, probably because this time she was cuddling with her bedmate and not trying to share a couch too small for the both of them. It ended up being a relaxing night after all, the waking up part making up for the nightmare. They were breathing in unison, fitting perfectly in the tight space of the sofa. Her mind was still blurry, she wanted to fall asleep once more to stay in the peaceful state she was just in. She snuggled closer, her face in the crook of his neck as she hugged him tighter, when she realized what she was doing. She was hugging Lockwood, and he had his arms around her. And for the briefest moment she felt like he was hugging her back. Suddenly it all felt wrong. They were colleagues. He was her employer. And landlord. They had a job to do together. During her time at Fittes she never let herself get too close to her teammates, at least not that way. It had happened once or twice that she found herself attracted to one of her colleagues, but she always kept her distance, thinking of the disaster that could have happened if she had let her feelings take over. And yet here she was throwing caution to the wind and allowing herself to get closer than she had been with anyone in a long time. As hard as it was, she pulled away slowly, trying to get up without waking him. She could’ve sworn she felt him holding on to her, trying to pull her back, but once she was on her feet she saw him turn on his side, still asleep. Her imagination was playing tricks on her, giving her false hopes. She covered him with the blanket she had last night, studying his relaxed features. It was unfair how good he looked when he was sleeping. She forced herself to get into the kitchen before George could catch her staring.
It was a close call since he came down as the water started boiling in the kettle. He looked more awake than he had earlier. It eased her guilt knowing he had managed to get some rest.
“I didn’t hear you come up last night.” George remarked as he poured himself a cup.
“After I woke you up in the middle of the night I thought you’d be grateful for that.”
“I’m not complaining I’m just wondering if you got any sleep after that.”
“I did.” She smiled without adding anything, sipping her tea in silence.
“I didn’t hear Lockwood either.” He said innocently while stirring his tea. He didn’t sound like he was simply checking up on her anymore. His voice had an edge with the slightest hint of insinuation.
“You were so exhausted you could barely stand. I wouldn’t be surprised if you had slept through one of us falling down the stairs from the attic to the ground floor without opening an eye.”
“Actually, I had a hard time falling back asleep.” He took a sip looking up at the ceiling.
She didn’t answer. Whatever she could have said would have led to more teasing anyway. She blushed. He just smiled before offering her a biscuit. She didn’t get why he reacted that way. He was looking at her like she had something to hide. But he had fallen asleep with her on that same couch and it certainly hadn’t meant anything! Though, if she was honest with herself she was just annoyed that he could read her like an open book. She took a biscuit out of the box he was handing her, avoiding his knowing eyes and proud smirk.
“I’m guessing things are better between you two then…”
“I came up last night to tell you so, didn’t I?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Before she could throw the nearest dish towel at him Lockwood came in. An awkward silence fell over the room. At least y/n felt the tension. Lockwood didn’t seem to notice and George was back to pretending like his biscuit was the most important thing in the world. He was right of course, things really were better between them. So much better that she wished she could wake up this way every morning.
She didn’t let herself think about it. Nothing good could come of this. Except of course the comfort she felt when she was in his arms, the butterflies in her stomach that danced to the song playing in her mind whenever he looked at her. She froze. She needed to clear her head and started to walk out of the kitchen. Maybe taking a shower and getting ready for the day would help.
When she came back down, she could hear the boys arguing. The debate didn’t sound heated, so they were probably discussing an upcoming case.
“I’m telling you it’s far more logical to do it this way!”
“You never listen to what I have to say!”
She pushed the door open.
“What’s this all about?”
“Ah, y/n I’m glad you’re back.” Lockwood said, walking towards her and putting a hand on her shoulder. “I keep telling George that we should focus on discovering who is at the head of the whole relic operation but he won’t listen.”
“You’re the one not listening! We don’t know enough about the operation to aim so high right away.”
He slid his hand down to her arm. “What do you think?”
His touch was enough to make her mind go blank. “I- um... you’re catching me off guard. Could you walk me through it?”
“Well, I think that focusing on Dufour isn’t useful anymore. Since we know she isn’t in charge we should let her be and focus on whoever is behind this.”
“And I think we could still learn a lot from what she does and follow her.”
“Those are both… good points…” She was still very aware of Lockwood’s hand resting on her arm. She wasn’t used to this. He had been distant most of the time those past few weeks and the sudden change really disturbed her.
“Well, I know I’m right!”
“And I am too! You’d see that if you weren’t so stubborn.”
It really was the pot calling the kettle black. She tried not to laugh at their argument as she crossed her arms, not so subtly removing Lockwood’s hand form her arm.
“You should just go your separate ways then, meet up later today to debrief the info you both get?”
“Yes, I guess we could do that.” They both nodded. “What do you do then, y/n?” Lockwood asked her, crossing his arms.
“I’ll go with George!” She said, realizing it came out a little too loud. Lockwood shot her a confused glance. “I’m just… curious to see what she’s up to… is all.” She tried to justify.
Lockwood briefly frowned before approving their plan, telling them they should meet back at the house at 4pm.
---
“You jumped awfully fast at the chance to come with me on this stake out.” George commented.
“I’m always excited at the thought of working with you Georgie!”
He rolled his eyes at her. She wasn’t being subtle, and he let her know it.
“Plus, I’m genuinely curious to see what this bitch is up to.”
That got a laugh out of him.
They were heading towards the Fittes building to see if maybe they could spot their nemesis stepping out to run one of her fraudulent errands. As they got closer to their old employer’s offices, she noticed familiar faces. She spotted several agents she used to see down Fittes corridors. As they crossed the road, she passed a guy who used to be on her team. She waved politely but was met with a dark stare. She couldn’t remember anything she could have done to upset him, then realized it was probably the aftermath of that offensive column. Her pace quickened, fueled once more by anger. She was determined to see what that horrible woman was up to and most importantly to find out how to bring her down. She was so furious she could have just walked into her office to strangle her. Hopefully George grabbed her arm and led her down a street far enough to remain unseen. He kneeled down to get out a hat and a pair of sunglasses out of his bag.
“Put these on, we don’t want Dufour to recognize us.”
“What are these eggs for?” She asked as she tried on the sunglasses.
“They might come in handy if we spot her car!”
It would have been a great relief, but she didn’t have time to appreciate the mental image she got. Dufour was getting out of the Fittes building across the street, seemingly in a hurry, carrying a large duffel bag. And so, the stake out began.
They tried to keep enough distance to remain discreet and followed her for the next hour. They weren’t sure that following her would lead them somewhere useful or if they would learn anything new. The fact that their old supervisor kept walking without stopping didn’t help. y/n even started to think that she didn’t have a destination at all and was just messing with them. That was until they reached an imposing building located near Clerkenwell Road. As Dufour got closer to the glass doors at the entrance, she looked around as if to make sure no one saw her go in. y/n and George had to hide several times behind cars or newspaper stands to avoid getting caught. The first time she turned around y/n felt her heart sink as she pulled George down with her, crouching behind a parked car. But it was a good sign, it probably meant that she had something to hide. They remained far from the building to remain unseen. George eagerly wrote down the address in his notebook. She could tell how pleased he was with their discovery before he even turned to congratulate his plan, his smile getting wider with every letter he wrote. They waited for her to come back out. She took her time. When she finally emerged from the building an hour later, she didn’t carry the bag anymore. Whatever was in it had to be valuable. Dufour started walking back the way she had come. They ducked and slowly entered the nearest café.
Since it was only 2 and they were starving, they decided to take a break, unable to come back out without being seen anyway. They settled at a table far from the window. They ordered tea and some pastries to share and discussed different theories, trying to figure out what the woman could be up to.
“Given her track record it’s fair to assume that her bag had sources in it right?”
“I’m surprised Fittes didn’t bat an eyelash since she started her operation. I mean she can’t be that subtle…” His eyes lit up. “What if Fittes was involved?”
“Maybe…” She didn’t want to bring down his enthusiasm but she was already picturing him getting way too far from the matter at hand. “Let’s focus on bringing her down for now. If you’re still mad at Fittes after that we’ll see what we can do.” She said with a laugh.
“Right. Then we should try to see what this building is.”
“It’s the Silverpoint Organization building!” said a voice behind her that made her jump.
“Norrie? What are you doing here?”
“Hey George! Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. I came to see my girlfriend, she just started her shift. But then I saw you two and I knew you had to be discussing something interesting given all the rumors these past few days… I couldn’t resist.”
“Actually, you could help us a lot!”
y/n greeted the girl as she sat down next to her. The last time she had seen them was at the furnaces. Apparently, the chat she had with George that night inspired her to do some investigating of her own. She had paid closer attention to the weird things she had noticed and caught a guy stealing a source red-handed. Not only did she get the source back to burn it but she also managed to get some information out of him. y/n was really impressed.
“So, I made him understand that he’d better tell me what he wanted to do with the source. That’s when he told me he was to bring it to this building across the street. I dug a little further and turns out it’s the Silverpoint Organization, whatever that is.”
“I’ll have to look into that.” George said while scribbling in his notebook. She didn’t think his smile could get any wider and yet it did.
“Hey! I didn’t know you were passing by!” called a voice behind them.
Norrie turned around to greet her girlfriend. The girl sat in front of her, saying something about having some time before the beginning of her shift. She had short wavy hair, auburn color, almond brown eyes. Her face was round and delicate. She looked friendly, but the warmth of her smile wasn’t enough to keep y/n from freezing. After all, that girl had woken her up in the middle of the night screaming just a few hours ago.
---
“And that’s why we should go after the money trail.”
Lockwood had been talking nonstop since he had walked through the door. He didn’t notice the heavy silence filling the living room. Or the haunted expression on y/n’s face.
“So, you somehow got your hands on an envelope supposedly used by that old man, who you think runs the operation, to pay a relic man who, again supposedly, brought him sources and that’s enough to convince you that you have a proof of the transactions?” George’s eyebrows were furrowed. Confusion filled his stare and his mouth was slightly agape. He looked baffled and not in a good way.
“That’s not all I found, didn’t you listen to what I just said?” Lockwood retorted, unfazed and still so sure of himself. “I have a reliable source telling me that they saw the guy take the money out of the envelope and it also has a strange code on it that has to link him back to wherever the money’s from. There must be a record of it somewhere. They wouldn’t bother writing such a long code on an envelope that gets left in the street if it didn’t have a purpose.”
“And you think this maze is worth getting lost in?”
“We won’t get lost! Like I told you I have contacts to help us out!”
“With relic men transactions? I’d love to meet them.” George still didn’t seem convinced.
“So, what do you think?” Lockwood asked with a triumphant smile, ignoring his friend’s objections.
“You don’t even care a little about what we discovered?”
He looked around the room, finally conceding them a glance. His smile fell as he looked into her eyes.
“What happened?”
It was George’s turn to talk restlessly about their day. Y/n looked at their exchange back and forth and listened to George tell Lockwood all about their successful stake out and their encounter with Norrie. There were times where she couldn’t focus on what they were saying, too caught up in the strange feeling that had followed her all the way home. Lucy had been lovely and tried to make her feel at ease even though y/n had stared at her like a deer caught in headlights for the better part of five minutes. They exchanged a few words about adapting to life in London and leaving agency work behind, though only partly for Norrie who wanted to do her best to help even without being back in the field. They never mentioned the incident that had led them here, just that they had left agency work. y/n knew why the girls had decided to change their lifestyle but nodded and smiled without ever referencing her dreams. She thought it would probably freak them out plus she didn’t want to bring up the horrible event that probably traumatized them in the first place. She tried to focus back on George’s explanations. He was excited to start researching the Silverpoint Organization. It was obvious that Lockwood was frustrated that his idea hadn’t gotten the attention he thought it would have. He sat back to let George talk with a barely hidden exasperated look on his face. But when he locked eyes with her his face slightly softened, allowing George to finish his theory.
“You’re awfully silent, y/n.” Lockwood said as he came to sit down next to her on the couch.
“We met Lucy today.”
She was met with a questioning stare.
“The girl from my dream.”
This triggered more frowning.
“As it turns out Norrie’s girlfriend Lucy is also the girl who woke me up screaming.”
George was still scribbling in his notebook. Lockwood didn’t say a word.
“I don’t really get it either. Hence the silence.”
He grabbed her hand in both of his. He was gentle, like her bones would break if he made any sudden movements.
“Do you… want to talk about it?”
“I don’t think there’s a lot to talk about for now.” She said gently. She still didn’t know what to do with this and didn’t want to burden anyone. “But thank you…” She took back her hand, smoothed down her skirt and sat back, coincidently distancing herself from him. “How about we just get back to Dufour?”
“Right…” He flexed his hand while looking down. He looked back at her, his usual smirk curving his lips. “You can’t let it go, can you?”
“Remind me when you let go of your rivalry with Kipps?”
He smiled, pausing for a second. There was a complicity in the look they shared. The butterflies in her stomach fluttered their wings. She pushed the feeling down as much as she could, trying to win their staring match without blushing. She failed, obviously. Lockwood got up with a satisfied look on his face.
“So, what should we do? I mean… I think my lead is pretty solid…” He said looking up at the ceiling.
“No, it’s not. It’s numbers on a torn envelope Lockwood!” George retorted.
“What do you think y/n?”
“When it comes to instinct, you told me to always listen to George and I followed that rule religiously since I joined the agency.”
“Like following the rules is going to help us with your revenge plan…” He rolled his eyes. But he didn’t look offended or disappointed. He looked…proud?
“But fine it’s two against one anyway and I’m a fair leader. We’ll start with this organization and see what we find.”
George didn’t need more. He rushed back to his room, slamming the door with a renewed determination. They probably wouldn’t see him again until dinner. A silence fell over the room. Her mind wandered, going back to the girl haunting her nights. She had asked her to find her and she had. Now what? She didn’t feel relieved, and meeting that girl hadn’t felt like she was fulfilling some prophecy, accomplishing her fate in a high-pressure decisive moment. What if she had been too late? What if from the start she was supposed to help Lucy save her team? Maybe she was cursed with the guilt she had felt in her nightmare, forever unable to sleep soundly again.
A hand resting on her wrist brought her back to reality. Lockwood had sat back down next to her and was stroking his thumb back and forth on her skin in a soothing way.
“We’ll work it out.” He reassured her. “The answer could be in the extensive research George will make us do.” She looked at him unconvinced, but she appreciated his effort to make her feel better.
“He’s not gonna let us rest, is he?”
“I wouldn’t count on it.”
“On the bright side, if I’m exhausted it might keep my mind off this.”
He held her hand tighter before letting go. She almost reached for his arm to get him to sit back down next to her. As he told her to get some rest before the busy day awaiting them, she ran back upstairs, her wrist still tingly.
The week that followed was in fact a busy one. They followed a strict schedule of intense research, rigorous preparation of their cases and efficient ghost clearing. The military-like organization was all George of course. He took the habit of waking them at 7:30 sharp by knocking repeatedly on their door until they were up to tell him to stop. They were among the first people present at the archives. Each day George assigned articles and newspaper respectively to Lockwood and her while he worked on the case they had that night. At noon they would switch, George looking over their research while they got familiar with the case before heading home to prep their bags for the evening. It was exhausting but she had to admit that it was yielding results. In just a week they had uncovered detailed information about the organization, how it was founded, who it was founded by, and why it was created in the first place. George had summed up the information both in their casebook and on the Thinking Cloth. Every morning as she drank her cup of tea she could read:
“Silverpoint organization – 1996 – founder Theodor Mullet of Mullet & Sons
TM eldest son and heir to M&S, created Sp Org to “further his father’s legacy” and protect agents against field injuries unrelated to ghost-lock
One fundraiser organized each year
Strong link to M&S rapier supplier
Funds from Fittes?
No financial records or official information available”
She couldn’t help feeling insulted that she slept so little only for their hard work to be summed up in a few lines. She didn’t complain however, at least she had helped find some of this information. Lockwood on the other hand was out of his depth. Research had never been the part he excelled at. He was too impatient and couldn’t sit still. By default, George took the lead but y/n could feel Lockwood’s pride taking a hit. If George, resident researcher of 35 Portland Row, was now in charge, what good was he? He tried his best to remain helpful by offering theories of his own. He kept insisting that the lack of financial records was suspicious and that his hunch was right. Of course, he did so without an ounce of pettiness and repeated that they should have listened to him from the start. y/n had a hard time believing him. His frustration started to show and it affected his work. During cases at night, he was bolder, trying to show off. At one point they were fending off a visitor which could have been easily handled at two while George looked for the source yet he picked this time to demonstrate the new move he had been practicing all day. The night had ended with a rush to the hospital and three stitches.
Today was a close call too. He had jumped down a flight of stairs to get between her and a visitor. She thought he probably had good intentions but she had her rapier ready and the situation was under control. It was a relief to see he didn’t break anything, a miracle frankly. She didn’t need a third time to decide to act. She would talk to George in the morning to convince him to spend some time looking into Lockwood’s lead.
They came back home exhausted, George going to bed immediately to stick to his schedule. She was about to do the same when she noticed the light was on in the library. She wasn’t surprised to see Lockwood sitting there with one of his magazines in his lap, acting like the day had no effect on him. He simply smiled at her when she entered and kept reading. She told him that he should rest. He simply hummed in agreement but didn’t move except to turn the page. She was about to give up and leave him there when he bolted up to show her the page he was on. It was a double page ad for an open-door day at Mullet&Sons, inviting clients to try their new line of rapiers and meet the board. The perfect occasion to get closer and hopefully find out more about the founder of the Silverpoint Organization. A light brightened his eyes as he smiled at her. She was certain he wouldn’t shut up about his finding.
A call the next day brought their enthusiasm back down. Right before they left for the Archives, Inspector Barnes had called. Lockwood had answered. His smile had faltered as the conversation went on. He hung up and stayed silent until George asked him what he wanted. Apparently, the inspector had called to warn them again. Only this time the threat had become much more real. Superiors at DEPRAC had taken an interest in the complaints against them, mostly to get Fittes off their back Lockwood thought. But it didn’t matter why, what mattered was that the ridiculous rehabilitation program offered by an unqualified journalist was getting more consideration than originally thought. One mishap would turn y/n and George into the first test subjects of this “educational” experiment. They were now under more surveillance than before. Sneaking into Mullet&Sons offices during their next event was out of the question, they’d be the first accused.
They stood in the hallway in silence, unsure what to do next. Researching more at the Archives seemed futile now.
“I might have an idea.” Lockwood said.
They looked up at him expectantly.
“We go after the financial records.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake Lockwood.” George swore. She understood his frustration. Being right didn’t matter now, and this was really not the time. Plus, stealing financial records wasn’t much better to remain far from suspicions.
“Lockwood…” She looked up at him. “We don’t have a way to do that legally and we’ll be the first interrogated. How could we even give evidence to DEPRAC, if we ever find any?”
“We get ourselves an airtight alibi.” He said proudly, like it was obvious.
They stared at him with a beaten expression, still not knowing what he had in mind. He went to the library and came back with the magazine he was reading last night. He eagerly handed it to them, open on a page featuring one of those fancy parties that took place occasionally. Though it wasn’t just any party, it was a fundraiser for the Silverpoint Organization. The next fundraiser was taking place next week and for the occasion an article was referencing last year’s event.
“We get into this party, make sure that everyone sees us and hopefully get some information about Theodor while talking to the guests.”
“But what about the records?”
“We’ll need some extra help.” He said before winking at her.
---
“By getting traces of the transactions between the organization and relic-men we can bring down the operation. And for that we need your help.”
Lockwood was back to his usual self. Charming, self-assured and most importantly in charge. The two girls in front of him had very different reactions. Norrie seemed to have made up her mind already, looking over at George every once in a while like she was in a hurry to get to work. Lucy was more skeptical. She looked like she was battling conflicted emotions. y/n didn’t blame her. They barely knew each other and they were asking her to steal financial records. They had just given up on a whole life, trying to adapt and they should throw all that away to help people they had just met? It was madness and y/n felt bad for asking them such a thing. But she didn’t really have a choice. Aside from them, there weren’t a lot of candidates.
After his whole speech, Lockwood sat in front of them, determination piercing through his eyes. He quirked his lips up in the slightest. She knew all too well this intense stare and irresistible smile. She hadn’t managed to turn him down, not many could. He spoke in a softer voice to try and convince Lucy to join their cause. And it was working, she was considering it. She said she needed time to think it over. But Lockwood wasn’t usually patient. y/n knew what would come next. A compassionate and understanding tirade so sincere you couldn’t help but join his side. But she knew what Lucy had been through, she was there sort of. Not ten seconds after Lockwood had started speaking again she interrupted.
“Lockwood stop.”
“Is there something wrong?”
“Don’t do this, just give her some time to think it over.”
“We don’t have a lot of time y/n!” He turned back to Lucy. “And as much as I understand the difficult position this puts you in-”
“Just shut up Lockwood!”
George sighed and buried his head in his hands. Norrie asked him what was wrong.
“They had just started to get along!”
y/n ignored his comments.
“Lucy, I’m sorry if we made you uncomfortable. I completely understand if you don’t want to join us and stay far away from anything agency related. I just think that we can trust you and we desperately need allies right now. We don’t need a definitive answer now, but do you think you could give it some thought… maybe?”
Lucy looked up at her with a softness in her gaze. She was scarred, that much was clear. She seemed afraid too. But there was much more than that. There was resilience and bravery. An ember in the ashes.
“I’ll think about it.” She said with a thin smile. They exchanged a glance that was enough to make y/n feel a deep connection to the girl. She reached for Norrie’s hand as they exited the room. There was so much more she wanted to say to her. She wanted to tell her about her dreams, about the relief she felt now that she got to know her. The platonic attraction she felt was overwhelming. She had never wanted to be friends with someone so ardently. There was something special about her. She didn’t know if it was El’s betrayal that left a scar or if her dreams were a sign of a deeper bond, but she desperately wanted to find out. She led them back in the hall and slowly closed the door behind them.
She turned to find Lockwood staring at her with a hurt look on his face.
“What the hell was that?”
“I’m… sorry…”
“I’ve been jumping through hoops with you since I met you and I’m getting tired of it.”
Her heart sank.
“Yeah, that’s fair. In my defense, I knew what you were doing and I couldn’t in good conscience let you go through with it.”
“What was I doing?”
“Faking compassion to get what you want.”
“Oh please, not that again. I was just trying to get the help we need. We’re in this mess because of you need I remind you.”
“Lucy’s been through a lot and she deserves genuine sympathy, not some fake act you put on every time we have a difficult client. I still have nightmares about what happened to them, you can’t imagine how it feels.”
“I can actually.”
There was a silence. He looked deeply hurt. She didn’t dare speak, knowing the matter was probably more sensitive than she realized.
“I’m doing everything I can to help you and I need you to be more cooperative. I’m not risking the reputation of my company if this is the thanks I get.”
“You’re right…” She said after a moment. “I went too far.”
He nodded. They stood in silence, neither of them daring to move.
“Just don’t be mean to me again.”
“I won’t.”
He turned to enter the kitchen.
“I wasn’t really mean though…” She said on a hesitant tone. “I was rude sure. But mean… Kipps is mean. He degrades you and all…” She didn’t even know why she said that. A desperate attempt at lightening the mood, giving Lockwood a reason to redirect his anger at someone else. It was pathetic. She could already see herself unable to sleep months from now living the shame of this moment all over again.  
“Oh, so you agree with me now?” He answered turning around. “When did you take the “best leader of the best team” off his pedestal?”
She smiled.
“You’re still a bigger prick than he is though.”
He smiled back.
“Tea?”
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jamisonwritestf2trash · 8 months
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Hello again! I was chatting with someone and he said "someone should make writing style hcs for the mercs", and I instantly went "I know a guy" so now i'm here. How do you think the mercs would write? (note: he also said "Scout would write like Greg heffley" which is hilarious)
How Do the TF2 Mercs Write?
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I'm smiling like an idiot rn. This is so sweet, and the promt is very cool! (Your friend is 100% correct, btw.)
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I'm going to headcanon, whay they write about, how they write about those things, and some hand writing pictures of how I think they'd write! So be prepared for a long one 😭 Can you tell I'm an English nerd?
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Demo-
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You'd think he'd have super messy handwriting, but he's actually a very neat writer. Has an ink and quill pen set, loves gold ink more than traditional black ink.
He writes about his mom and his childhood. He writes very vividly and with lots of detail. I feel like this man is a walking thesaurus.
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Engie-
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He has very clean writing. I'm day to day life (he has the worst writing when working on his projects). Like he'll leave a note on the door saying that the gangs run out of milk and everyone's shocked. You'd think he'd have atrocious handwriting. Learned cursive in school and never really stopped using it.
When he's writing like this, he's normally sending letters to people he cares for or trying to order parts for his latest projects. He's very formal when he writes to anyone.
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Heavy-
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Heavy is also blessed with very nice handwriting, but instead of the school system forcing him into writing better it was his mom.
He likes to write about animals and his friends. He keeps a small book by his bed to write little things he learns throughout the day. Not very descriptive, more along the lines of "I heard birds singing this morning, it was pretty." Or "Scout likes brownies more than ice cream." Normally, just mundane things. (Also, he writes mainly in english to improve his ability to understand English words but sometimes defaults to Russian if he can't remember or spell a word properly.)
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Medic-
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Ugh. This man writes like a doctor nine times put of ten just to fuck with people. He'll give someone a note, and it just has gibberish on it. He likes to watch them try and decipher it. But when he's not being a menace to society. He has genuinely beautiful handwriting. While it can be overly fancy, sometimes it's also easy to read.
He has two journals, he has a leather-bound one where he writes about Germany, his experiences of leaving his country, when he had his medical license, medical school, etc. Loves to write about the past. He uses that journal as a therapist. And then, of course, he has his neon pink Claire's notebook that he uses to write down every single thing that could be used against someone he's ever heard, with matching glitter pens.
When he writes, he never leaves any details out and is pretty clear and concise. He uses German and English interchangeably. Using English mainly out of habit.
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Scout-
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While I do agree that this man probably writes like Greg Heffley (and honestly, his handwriting probably looks the same too.) I'd be wrong not to mention that he writes out little :), :0, >:), and other little faces on his notes, and have almost graffiti handwriting. He practiced writing to look like that, actually. He used to have decently nice handwriting, but he likes this one better.
He doesn't write much, but when he does, this man writes paragraphs about the most random things. All horribly spelled. This man can't read or write very well. Dyslexic king. He makes sure to get help with spelling, though, so he can write to his mom at least once a month.
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Sniper-
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Oh, poor, poor man. Can not write clearly to save his life. Not that he's big on writing to begin with. There was never really any pressure for him to have good handwriting, and he mainly only writes to write himself reminders.
Very nondescript and straight to the point. But has a little quirk of using different dots (like • ○ ● □ ■ ☆) for his notes. He has a little dark brown book for all his reminders.
☆eat (is a common note left in the book). He also has written poetry, but he'd rather die than admit that.
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Spy-
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Pretentious motherfucker handwriting and style. Could just be writing a reminder to wish someone a happy birthday and will go all out. It normally takes him 15 minutes to write a small note. He writes letters frequently, with no reason in particular. I think he just really likes writing. Uses big words but not in the same way Demo does. Like Demo will say, "The food was horrific." But Spy will say some shit like "the meal I partook in was horrifically distasteful and..." So on and so on.
I think he can also switch his handwriting at will. If he needs to pretend to have messy handwriting for some reason, he'll do it. Not without sheding a tear at how awful it looks first though.
Writes exclusively in French. One or two words in English every 10,000 words he writes.
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Soldier-
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He likes using all capital letters when he writes! He feels like every word he writes is important. It also helps him remember things. I also don't think his vision is the best, so it's hard for him to see any other writing.
He doesn't write often, but he's always listing things, marking things that have changed, and writing down random questions that he'll spend the day trying to answer. Very observation based writing. You catch him writing and it's just a piece of computer paper with a list like,
THE CEREAL WAS MOVED
I SAW A BIRD
WHY DO BIRDS FLY INTO GLASS
ARE BIRDS OKAY AFTER FLYING INTO GLASS.
Very simple writer.
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Pyro-
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Scarily neat and beautiful writing. Somehow, they can write like this no matter what situation they're in. I definitely think they just rewrite things they overhear, facts that they like, good memories they remember, and just odd things. Has multiple quotes written down from books they've read. They write with glitterpens, too. They have a bunch of construction paper they use to write on.
They don't really write much for necessity. They only really write to make themselves happy. Can be simple or descriptive depending on what their remembering.
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AH! I HAD SO MUCH FUN DOING THIS ONE! Thanks again for the ask! I hope your friend likes the answers :D
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saltydkdan · 4 months
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Are the JoJo's icebergs fun to work on? They look like a blast to edit and write! (If a bit of a large workload)
The Jojo Iceberg has been... interesting. On one hand yes! It has been a blast to work on in some senses! It taught me a lot about writing, and research, while also allowing me the freedom to experiment with editing and injecting my humor into scripted stuff in a more organic way. I feel like with each chunk of the series I've posted thus far, I've shown more and more confidence over time.
Plus you are right!! Once the audio editing is done, working on visual edits and gags is a blast. Sure it takes time, but I have a weird love for making smooth video edits for people to watch (even though like 50% of the people that view those videos probably just listen to em like a podcast without looking at it haha).
So that sort of stuff, yes! That's been a blast, and I've learned a TON that I'd never take back for the world!
However on the flipside, logistically this project was a nightmare from day one LOL. And this is the part where I try to dissuade anyone from EVER working on a longer project like this because god damn it's been a pain at times.
Keep in mind, the script (as it stands) is nearly 200 pages. That is the longest scripted work I've ever helped write in my entire life, and when I started I was NOT that experienced as a writer whatsoever. I'm a bit better now, but at times I still struggle.
I made the horrible decision to never put a cap on the script. For every new fact I learned, even if it wasn't a part of the original plans for the video, I would add it to the pile. No matter what it was. I was committed to making it as long as I thought it needed to be, not as long as it probably SHOULD have been to get done in a reasonable amount of time.
I did all this for a deep passion for the source material, and even after the final part comes out early this year, I plan on going back and correcting the very few mistakes or miswordings I had in the original videos when I put them all together in one MEGA video.
But that passion for Jojo is a blessing and a curse, and I hadn't realized how long a project like this would take me amidst all the other big projects like Friendlocke and HYHA.
Full disclosure, the script was first started in December of 2020. That's nearly 3-4 YEARS AGO by now. If I knew that putting all this together would take that long, I probably wouldn't have committed to it in the way that I did. In that time, I probably could have put out a TON of shorter stuff, but I was so committed to this that I just didn't and that very much hurt my channel in the long term.
Though to be real, I haven't worked on it consistently, I tend to jump on and off between projects to avoid burnout. However still, by the time it's all done, the Jojo Iceberg combined together will most likely be the longest piece of content on my channel (yes, potentially longer than Friendlocke Season 3, I estimate that it'll probably come out to around 6 hours in length if I don't cut anything down).
It's because of this that after this is all out there? I plan to NEVER tackle something this long ever again. Friendlocke and Jojo have drained my bones, and all I wanna do these days is work on shorter stuff. Though I guess in that sense, this project has really helped teach me a lot about the sort of stuff I want to make. So in a way, even the negatives have positives! There's always something you can take away with, even if your experience had some downsides.
Looking at such a long script and doing some math, it's made me realize that like... damn. I could DEFINITELY do shorter videos way more consistently in the future. And so that's what I plan to do :)
So yeah! Some positives and negatives. But overall, I learned a lot and that's all I could ever ask for.
Thanks for your question! Have a good one!
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The way substance abuse has been handled on the show thus far genuinely upsets me and reeks of writers who either 1.) don't understand the subject matter they're presenting and haven't done even the bare minimum to research it or, worse, 2.) simply don't care.
Apologies for the slight rant incoming, your comment about how it has been mostly "handled" off-screen got me going because that's 100% true and in that truth is such a missed opportunity for the show. The way it has been handled winds up feeling incredibly shallow and juvenile at the end of the day, especially for a piece of media that is attempting to present itself as "adult" and navigate multiple incredibly sensitive topics. I'll try not to get into my own personal experiences and will speak broadly, but the show uses substance abuse more as a cheap character flaw to poke fun at or something to magically handwave away when it is inconvenient, rather than the life-altering, debilitating illness that it is.
Nothing about Angel's use is ever meaningfully explored. It's so (apparently) unimportant to his arc and development that one rude comment from Husk (a character who ALSO has a problem with gambling and alcohol that is never addressed) is all it takes for him to suddenly "resist temptation" and be shown as "recovered" (unless I'm misremembering). Or was he suddenly going to counseling off-screen too and its just another thing that will be told to us rather than shown? And how does Charlie even handle that at the Hotel (I'd be really interested in this as a moment for her character to have to grow/change too)? Does she even understand substance abuse and the many unaddressed systemic factors that can influence it? Or is the entire recovery process just shame based (because that works so well /s) combined with some more corny trust exercises? Why is this incredibly serious topic relegated to the background as if it's unimportant?
Recovery is hard. It is emotional and exhausting. Withdrawal (depending on what you're coming off of) can sometimes mean excruciating, unimaginable pain and in some cases people literally die. It is not a funny "ha-ha I take drugs because I'm chaotic and wild" quirk to be adored or glorified and it definitely should not be presented as something that can be wrapped up in a month or two off-screen without any development whatsoever. That's just insulting.
When you approach a topic like substance abuse and recovery, I personally feel you need to take in all sides of it. All the missteps that come with it (two steps forward one step back - mistakes are expected and okay), the self-loathing, the guilt and shame, the joy, the sense of freedom, the loss, and the best part of all: the incredibly difficult but liberating journey that is rebuilding your life and learning to love yourself and your body again, once you've chosen to be free and to live life.
Mad props to anyone who has ever battled this disease. You are strong, you are worth it and you are valued. Lol I am so sorry for going off here but I so appreciate you calling out the lack of exploration on this topic in the show. I guess I didn't even realize how annoyed and upset it was making me feel (praying this is coherent...).
This was absolutely coherent don’t worry!! Im really glad to see other people talking about this. I myself have not struggled with drug addiction but I have struggled with other kinds and as someone that studies a bunch of medical junk, I’d say I’m decently knowledgeable.
I’m mainly going to focus on Angel for this since he’s the main character I write for, but I assure you other characters addictions are also handled in my rewrite.
During the actual canon show, we don’t see Angel actually abusing substances that often; there’s a few times, most notably in episode 4, but from the rest of the show onward we hardly see anything. Yes in episode 6 they mentioned relapsing, which, mind you, was done horribly, but I digress. They touch on relapsing; Angel relapses, and then… what..??? What happened from that? I don’t feel upset or second hand guilt of any kind from this scene because we haven’t seen Angel’s attempts to stay sobre and off drugs.
His name is fucking Angel Dust. You don’t, I dunno, think that’d entail a higher dependency on drugs? Why do you think he named himself that?
About his name before anything else, the show has so much potential later on to talk about Angel picking out his drag name and why he chose that specifically. So much potential to explore how he views drugs and himself. He sees them as an escape and something “fun” to take his mind off of his actual life. When you die in a fucking coma and wake up in hell as a spider you’re going to want an escape. You will want to ignore reality. I am fully convinced Angel picked his name once he started performing because thats what he needed at the time. He needs to be like that to survive in hell. Angel is an incredibly mentally ill, troubled, traumatised, and unstable person, and being surrounded by so much intense negative influence only amplifies his current problems. I don’t mean to drag Vox in here but in my last redesign post I mentioned how very mildly bad people can become even worse people in hell because of the environment and this is no different for Angel. He’s been surrounded by crime and drugs his entire life and unable to live comfortably because of his sexuality. He has very likely been struggling with substances since he was a teen. Possibly even younger. He is not going to suddenly get over his addiction because of something like this. It could pave the way to him looking into dealing with it, but things like this can take years. I don’t remember when my addiction started; I’ve been clean for 2 1/2 years now I think, but the amount of relapsing and anguish I experienced while working towards that isn’t something that can be done in a few days or months. I still struggle with feeling like I deserve to say I’m recovering.
I’m hoping they tactfully handle this as they should, but my hopes are low. It’s okay to show a character relapsing. It’s okay to show a character feeling guilty. What matters is that the struggle is there to signify they’re trying. For a character with a song called “Addict” you really don’t see much of it. Drug and alcohol addiction is not a silly thing to just twiddle your fingers with and be like “well I guess thats over!” It’s incredibly insensitive to do so.
Whenever I write about Angel’s struggles with addictions, I focus on how small they can feel until you realise what’s actually happening. Just me talking about my rewrite again, but to get my ideas out here: Angel smokes often. He smokes at the studio when he’s stressed, he smokes at the hotel when he’s stressed, he smokes at in alleyways when he’s bored, there’s almost no location he won’t, but sometimes he tries to smoke less. His lungs aren’t the same as humans and technically he has 2 pairs of lungs, but smoking causes him to cough. This is painful in general and especially painful for Angel since he has barbs going down the back of his throat. Imagine choking on sandpaper, kind of like that. It’s painful, he doesn’t like the sound, Fat Nuggets REALLY doesn’t like the sound, and it’s an overall inconvenience, so he tries to stop smoking as much. Periods like this usually go fine for him until the stress returns or he starts to feel the withdrawal. Withdrawal from any sort of addiction is terrible, and in Angel’s case, just from not smoking it worsens his mental state further. He becomes irritable and stressed and that stress leads to wanting to smoke again to calm down. He may resist a few times and those times should be praised, but he gives in eventually. One cigarette to calm down becomes two, then three, and before he can process himself getting carried away, the entire pack is gone. It’s things like this that make addiction horrible. It’s something that deeply scared me when I was struggling. When I was struggling I was still in the mindset of “I can stop when I want to” and then being so suddenly hit in the face with the realisation that I’m not longer in control of this is terrifying. I could not stop when I wanted to. There were even points where I didn’t want to stop. Even just getting the smallest glimpse of this in an incredibly serious manner with Angel Dust would surprise me. To think the bar is this low on a show that seemingly prides itself on tackling such sensitive topics like you said is appalling. Your show shouldn’t have to be told how to write itself.
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Shh (Reiner x female reader; smut, PWP; mdni please)
nsfw. canon universe, alt timeline, 104th cadet training era in which characters are aged up to 18+. ~700 words. content warning for implied penetration and explicit dialog. contains dirty talk, reader getting railed on a dresser, and Reiner being a horrible little tease
You might be a little shy about being overheard, but Reiner sure isn't.
notes: let me say it again so we're super clear here - characters in my fics set during the cadet era should be assumed to be aged up to 18+, in a very slightly less miserable world in which training doesn't start at age 13. If this is really objectionable to you, that's okay, you don't need to read it.
This is by far my filthiest bit of writing as of yet, and my first pure PWP bit. At first I was kind of mortified about sharing it! I'd never even tried to write anything approaching dirty talk before and was worried it would be super 'off' and, you know, reflective of my being an asexual who's never touched a dick, and posted it sort of... hoping only a few people would read it - and then pretty few people did. But, somehow, over time I started feeling way more confident about and maybe even proud of this one, and honestly wishing I'd hyped it up more. It still feels weird for me to share smut with anyone, but I'm ngl, writing shit this shamelessly horny is actually a lot of fun. What's happened to me?
Anyway, love it or not, thank you for reading and for giving me an audience for trying new things like this. I think it's what pushes writers to grow.
Oh yeah, there are also some minor edits from the original version because I can't help myself.
originally published January 2023
Training exercises in the interior are rare, but they also come with a rare perk – you get to spend the night at an actual inn, with your own rooms and soft, comfy beds.
Currently, though, you’re not on the soft, comfy bed. Having slipped quietly from your room and sneaked off to Reiner’s, you’re currently seated on the dresser, clothes wantonly discarded across the floor, hair falling over your shoulders as your boyfriend stands, fucking into you with a desperation that you can only assume is inspired by the elegant change of scenery.
It’s certainly easier to sneak around at a place like this, and while you were a little tired after training and would have been content just to lay in bed with him and cuddle, Reiner was never one to waste an opportunity. He was also as charmingly persuasive as ever, those imploring golden honey eyes coaxing you into an exercise that was far more pleasant than training ever was.
Squeezing your breasts, kissing your neck, soft, deep moans offering a counterpoint to yours, Reiner is a sweeter and more exuberant partner than you imagine there may be behinds these walls...
That doesn’t change the fact that you’re currently in very close proximity to the rest of the 104th, though.
When a series of especially enthusiastic thrusts suddenly cause the dresser to rattle loudly against the wall, you’re more than a little mortified to imagine that the others are probably still awake in their own rooms and press your lips to Reiner’s neck with a hiss. “Shh! What if the others hear that?”
“Mm, hear what? The dresser?” He repositions you a little so that you’re forced to look into his eyes, a brow raised in amusement as he makes absolutely no effort to soften his pace. “That could be anything, for all they know, dove.”
But then a wicked little smile spreads across his face, and he slides your hips forward and angles them wider to let himself sink in deeper. Your tiny gasp only makes his smirk broaden.
“Or,” he continues, leaning in so his lips are nearly brushing against your ear, his thrusting into you becoming quite agonizingly deliberate, “Are you worried they’ll hear something else? Like how good I’m fucking you right now? Doesn’t bother me one bit.”
His voice is soft and just above a whisper, and his breath is warm against your skin. Your own breath is quickening a little and your cheeks feel like they’re on fire in response to his teasing, but you find you’ve lost any inclination to admonish him - and he’s so fucking annoyingly aware of it. A little huff of a chuckle almost feels like a caress against your cheek.
“Think they can hear how soaking wet this pussy is every time I slide my fat fucking cock into it? I sure can.”
A whimper escapes your throat and your voice slips out as a whine. “F-fuck, Reiner...” You’d hate to admit it, but his words affect you in ways he can feel all too well.
Reiner’s exhalations are growing shaky now, like your response is a call of encouragement. “Are you afraid they can hear those cute little sounds you make? Mmph – your sweet little whimpers? The way you say my name like it’s the only word you know? Shit--” He rests his forehead against yours for a few heartbeats, voice almost slipping into something softer. “Not gonna lie, I do like being the only one who’s ever heard those...”
He’s quick to recover from this lapse, though, and being keenly aware of how close you’re getting, he moves his hips against you faster, and sweetly kisses your forehead. “Don’t care if they hear the rest, though. Honestly, I fucking want them to hear it and know it’s my hot cum spilling out of you right now. I could keep on filling you up with my cum until they can hear it dripping onto the fucking floor.”
And then in an instant, he pauses, tilting your head back to fix you with that smug, infuriating, gorgeous grin of his. “Of course I can stop if you’re really that scared they’ll hear us.”
With mild irritation evident in your voice, you pull him against you so you can press your lips fervently to his neck again. “I think I can live with them hearing.
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bogginswritings · 1 year
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Sleepless Nights for the Damned || Percival de Rolo x fem!reader
I'm sorry for my absence. I didn't write anything here in the last like 9 months. Writers block and school were killing me. I hope this can make up for it a little bit, but don't expect too much. I practically forced this out. (I love Percy smsm)
Pairing: Percy de Rolo x fem!reader/oc
Summary: The nights were the hardest for Percy. When his mind could wander because his hands aren't preoccupied with anything. He was lucky now, though. He had her.
Warning(s): Mentions of past trauma, Percy's backstory, angst and comfort, panic attacks (Percy)
(idk who posted the GIF, I'm sorry)
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Percy wasn’t entirely sure what he looked like anymore. 
He had mirrors, of course, but the reflection didn't always look familiar. He didn’t really know what he was supposed to look like, anymore. Would he have looked like this if his childhood would keep going as it did; happy and joyful? Would the dark circles not be under his eyes? Would he not have the white hair, but rather the brown locks he always had?
He didn't know. But it seemed common, to no longer recognize himself. Wandering alone for years in the need of vengeance, a routine of eating rotten bread from trash cans and stealing apples on the market just so his stomach wouldn't complain; one could say this changes a man.
Percy met a group, and he came up with the name Vox Machina. While this was somewhat stable, he was far from happy. He wasn't even entirely sure why, because he had great and caring friends now. His stomach was always full with food that hadn't already gone bad for at least two days. Sure, the jobs they did to earn some coin wasn't always 'ethical’, per se; but it kept them going just fine. Percy wasn't happy, but he was content. As content as he could get, anyway, for the desire of revenge still lingered and nightmares took over his sleep.
Sometimes he’d kill the Briarwoods in said nightmares,  though maybe those should be considered dreams, he didn't know where they came from. Even during the day he thought about it, a gnawing feeling of pure anger taking over his entire being. He had episodes like this, they’ve become more frequent, though Percy was not entirely sure where they came from. Sure, he was so pissed no word in the English language was enough to describe it, but he didn’t think that a feeling of rage would consume his entire being.
No friend could make this better. No one was there at night to comfort him. They didn't understand. He couldn't blame them, he never told them. It wasn't fair to put a weight like that on their shoulders, to trauma dump when they all have so much to deal with already.
Percy felt hopeless, to be quite honest. Especially when he woke up in a cold sweat and had no one to go to. When he had a bad dream as a kid he would just slide in with his parents, now he waited in bed hoping to fall asleep again or at least have his body get the rest. Sometimes he was just extremely mad when he woke up in the middle of the night, and he’d get to his workshop to tinker.
It was always the same, and it felt like a routine. Just like it was routine for Vex to check Trinket’s teeth and Grog to clean his weapons. However, this was a routine he didn’t participate in voluntarily and he couldn’t get out of.
Once again his eyes snapped open, his breathing heavy. It felt like he had to lift up a brick from his chest with every breath in. Percy shot up, sitting upright to try and shake off that horrible feeling. The feeling he was going to pass out from a lack of air. The feeling he was dying. He tried to stay quiet, but a whimper slipped past his lips. He did his best to muffle it, to be silent. Usually he wouldn’t have to worry about it too much, but usually he was alone in his bed. He didn’t share it with someone.
His body got a shock from another stifled sob. Percy could feel this was going to be a bad ride, one he had to let wash over him. Wave after wave until the storm calmed and it passed. They seemed to be more frequent and during the day it fueled his being more and more with wrath and a desire to kill the Briarwoods. Percy didn’t just want to kill them, he wanted to hurt them. He needed them to feel all the sadness and anger he has felt and-
He tried to take a deep breath, to not spiral into there. Right now he just had an intense feeling of fear and panic he didn’t know how to control.
A gentle touch on his shoulder, the weight on the bed next to him dipping. “Darling?” her gentle voice rang through his ears. He couldn't register everything quickly, but she'd sat up too; one hand resting on his thigh whilst the one his shoulder started rubbing circles.
This was the first time Percy had woken her up with it. Though, to be fair, they had only started sleeping in one bed for a week or so. He knew he probably should have warned her beforehand that this could happen- would happen, but everytime he tried an itch in his throat stopped him. God, he felt like such an asshole waking her up, and that only added up to the bad feeling of guilt he had.
“I-” he swallowed, his eyes darted around the room to find something to focus on, “I’m sorry.”
“Look at me, Percy,” Her voice was soothing, “Focus on me.” He did. It took a while, her words still getting processed in his brain, but he did. Her heart broke when she saw his wobbling lips,  “Good, take a deep breath with me.”
Percy tried, he really did, but it just wouldn't. It caused him to fall into more of a panic, his breathing turning rigid. She asked him for something so simple and he couldn't do it. “I-I can’t- I can't-” Her hand moved away from his thigh, but before Percy could start crying because ‘she was definitely leaving’, it came back on his chest. “I’m here. Can you lift my hand?” She asked, and she took deep, loud drags of air to demonstrate. It took a while, but he managed to lift it slightly. And then some more. “Good job,” Her hand moved lower, resting on his abdomen, “And now? I need you to breathe through your stomach.” Percy remembered she did it with herself sometimes too, a hand on her belly before they went into battle. He understood why now, because once he managed to lift her hand it actually felt like air was going inside his lungs for the first time in the last- what, five minutes? It took a little while before it became a rhythm to breathe like that, but it helped.
The hand on his shoulder had moved to hold his face, he didn’t know when that happened, but he only noticed it just now. The feeling was nice. “Better?” She asked, and he nodded, “Good.” She gave him a kind smile, and Percy just didn’t know what he did to deserve her. She knew exactly what to do, and she didn’t even know what this was about. If the woman was honest, though, she expected it to be about the dragon at first. An intense experience they went through. But they’ve been through worse, and it didn’t seem to have bothered the man before. Nonetheless, she caressed his cheek and held him. Percy never had someone comfort him like this, but he knew he liked it. “We can get out of bed for a bit, get that busy mind of yours on something else for a while?”
“I’d like that.”
And so here they were, at the table of the shared household of Vox Machina. Two mugs of tea stood in between them, still steaming and too hot to drink. They didn’t say anything, Percy was too lost in thought and she waited for him to figure it out. “I’m sorry.” It broke the silence after a while. The woman gave him a look, not one that ridiculed him; rather one that asked why he would say that, “You shouldn’t be.”
“But I am, I’ve woken you up. I should at least have had the decency to warn you about it.”
“Does it happen often?” She asked, worry etched into her voice. She always assumed the dark circles under his eyes were from late nights in his workshop, like the others. He was a workaholic after all. She didn't think there was more behind it. She felt horrible for not asking him, to make sure. “It does,” Percy said, “I should’ve said something, I’m sorry this is pushed onto you.”
“Stop apologizing,” she dipped her finger into the tea, deciding it was cooled down enough to drink, “That’s what partners are for, if you don’t get that comfort then what kinda relationship do you have. Would you have gotten mad at me?” He shook his head, even though he knew it was rhetorical, “Exactly.” She took a sip, Percy following soon after, “If you ever need to talk about it, I’m here for you. And if you don’t that is okay, too. I’ll still be right by your side.”
“I want to talk about it- I do, I tried.”
“Take your time, Percy,” she reassured, “We aren’t in a hurry. When you’re ready I’ll be here.”
He nodded, sending her an appreciative smile, “I promise I will be. Later.”
“Later,” she affirmed, and they drank the rest of their mugs in silence.
“I just remembered we have that dinner at Uriel’s,” They were back in bed, the woman playing with Percy’s hair as his head was tucked under her chin. They didn’t cuddle often, but this felt nice, “You excited?” She felt him nod, “Though I’d be more excited if Grog remembered his manners.” She snorted at his response, but she couldn’t find it in her to disagree.
“I can’t wait to have a change of scenery. Fancy foods,” she gushed, “and fancy drinks.”
“It’ll be good for us, to get some respect as Vox Machina,” Percy said, “It could get us better jobs.” She hummed in acknowledgement. That would be nice. She kissed the top of his head, “We should probably sleep then, to look presentable and all.”
“I always look presentable.”
The woman snorted, “You sure do, goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
That night was the first in a while where Percy felt safe.
Alrightie, hope you enjoyed!
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j0kers-light · 8 months
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His Lighthouse: Mind Games (LedgerJoker x f!reader)
Mind Games
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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:
The mind is a dangerous weapon, you should know this firsthand. Surely this all can't be real? But if so.. then who's lying? And who's telling the truth?
author's note:
Its been far too long loves! I'm back with a new update and boy is this one a doozy! Forget everything you thought happened last chapter and just read from the top! Things will slowly start to make sense or trick you. I hope you enjoy either way! I had a song selected for this chapter but in the end, it didn't fit the overall mood. Maybe next time.
taglist:
@blackreaderatrisk @twinkledinkle @clemdango04 @l3ejm @tears-of-amber @what-an-angel @darthjokerisyourfather @thatsnoteii @dollster  @cheetahspy @kaidennnnn @urdariingdoll @motivation-idontknowher @ins0mniac-whack
Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!
Last Chapter | Next Chapter
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When did your mind start playing tricks on you? Did you hallucinate the entire conversation or just bits and pieces? When did it all go horribly wrong?
Your head was pounding and you didn't remember a thing after Bruce stepped closer to you.
When your back hit the balcony railing, it set off a trigger that made you instantly disassociate. You didn't hear Bruce's smooth voice after that as it was replaced with another from your past— one that you tried so hard to forget. It was sickly sweet and made you feel dirty inside and out.
Words and phrases were twisted around until you didn't know what to believe anymore. The background changed from your rooftop balcony to that damp and dark alleyway and that's when you knew nothing beyond this point was real.
Deep down you knew Bruce would never be this cruel but you couldn't be too sure. He was a gentleman... this wasn't real, but your mind made it seem very realistic.
Your memories from that night were back and you couldn't bear to relive it again.
'It's not real.' You repeated over and over as your mind spiraled out of control.
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Bruce noticed you were shivering and covered your shoulders with a heavy blanket. He sighed when you tensed up and wrapped the fabric around yourself like a shield. You were so jumpy lately, it really had him concerned.
He didn't understand why you were so distant towards him. Bruce could be the bigger person here and ask why despite the awkward tension festering between the two of you.
"How do I say this? You've been distant lately. Especially to me." He said. He wasn't expecting your timid voice to respond so quickly.
"Uh.. yeah? I hope so since I broke things off with you and if you haven't noticed over dinner— I've moved on. You're the one that keeps being nice and trying to get along with my parents.."
Bruce strained to hear what else you said under your breath but he caught your eyes blinking a mile a minute. That was unusual.
"Y/n, are you alright?" He asked.
"Yeah." You said without missing a beat.
He frowned and stepped closer, causing you to back away and hit the balcony railing with your hip. You slurred more of your words together.
"Are you sure? You look unwell, Y/n. Perhaps we should get you inside."
You were mumbling under your breath but Bruce couldn't hear a word. He knew something was wrong when you held your head and started hyperventilating. Then it hit him. You were having a panic attack.
His Batman instincts immediately kicked in.
"Breathe in and out, Y/n. Whatever it is, it's not real. Can you hear me? Y/n?" You avoided his touch but Bruce was persistent in trying to calm you down.
"Whatever is hurting you Y/n, please let me inand—"
Bruce never heard a scream as blood curdling as yours.
It's like he said the magic words and triggered old memories, for you immediately began fighting his hold, kicking and screaming with all your might. Bruce was a strong individual, with or without the bat suit, but he struggled trying to keep you still. You were too close to the balcony ledge for his liking so he corralled you back towards the apartment to keep you safe.
Everyone in the penthouse heard your horrified scream and woke up out of their slumber to investigate.
Your mom and dad were unfortunately veterans to this and knew exactly what was going on so they rushed straight to the scene.
Barbara, Morgana, and Dick however stumbled out of their rooms and followed the commotion out onto the balcony, not truly understanding what was going on in.
They all arrived to witness you screaming at the top of your lungs and clawing at Bruce's arms like a feral cat. He was trying to calm you down but the scene looked rather odd without any context.
Your parents would walk in while the two of you were in a suggestive position.
Bruce did a double take at the shocked audience and shouted, "Don't just stand there, help me!" You resorted to biting him and he almost lost his grip on you again if not for his leg pinning you down.
Your mother panicked seeing you in a fit of hysterics and she couldn't blame you. You were being manhandled during such a delicate situation.
"Let go of her!" She rushed to Bruce's side and snatched you out of his hold.
The second you felt a female presence, you stopped fighting back but continued to cry uncontrollably.
Your father slid to your side but kept his distance as to not set you off again. He felt useless not being able to help in your time of need yet your mother quickly stepped up to the plate in his stead.
"It's okay sweetheart. It's over, it's over. He's gone. You're safe now. It's all over." Your mother shushed in your ear. She rocked you like a baby as you choked back tears.
"P-Please stop! It hurts!" You wailed. Your mother blinked back her own tears while rubbing your back in big comforting circles. Your father met her gaze as they held a private conversation.
It's happening again.
"It's not real, Y/n. You're safe now." Mom glanced at Bruce's bloody arms and winced. "Babe, can you go find the first aid kit for Bruce?" She whispered to your dad so you wouldn't hear.
Everyone's eyes focused on the angry red claw marks your nails left on Bruce. Just what happened here? Your father grimaced at the bite mark but stood up to make himself useful.
You pleaded again, trapped in a distant memory and Morgana choked back a sob hearing her friend in so much pain.
It was too much to witness and she turned away to cry. Dick stood off to the side, oddly quiet, but concerned for his sister. Everyone was.
Barbara couldn't stand the silence and cried out, "What happened Bruce?"
Multiple curious eyes watched the billionaire rub the back of his head. Your father came back with the first aid kit and started accessing the damage you left. "She's still a fighter (mother's name). I bet these hurt like a mf, lemme see." 
Bruce had suffered worse injuries but your nails were rather sharp so he let your father dab alcohol on each scratch to flush out the blood. Bruce had yet to answer the question on everyone's mind.
Your mother looked Bruce dead in the eye and arched an eyebrow. He thought he was gonna get the scolding of a lifetime at the intense e/c staring him down.
He started from the top and explained.
"I genuinely do not know. It's chilly out so I came to offer Y/n a blanket. I tried striking up a conversation about what happened over dinner but she started blinking excessively and clutching her head as if she had a headache. Her back hit the railing and I think she began to have a panic attack. When I tried to calm her down, she became combative."
You whimpered in your mother's arms as you finally fell asleep. She sighed in relief and swapped places with your dad.
She knew he felt useless and he gladly held you close now that you were unconscious and unaware of a male's touch. Your mom waved Bruce over and set about applying Neosporin to his scratches.
They were rather deep but they would heal in a few days time. He declined bandaids and she snapped the first aid kit closed and spoke.
"Don't blame yourself for this. Y/n had a very stressful day and her mind isn't functioning properly because of it."
"That doesn't explain what happened? Is Y/n okay?!" Morgana returned to the conversation with tear tracks still visible on her face.
She never seen you so distraught before. It was like a completely different person possessed your body just then. What kind of friend was she to not notice how much pain you were hiding? She wasn't any better than Florence.
Barbara was thinking the exact same thing. You needed solid friends right now and she was the worst one imaginable.
Your mother took a look around and sighed at the somber air on the balcony. She was emotionally drained after consoling you and it appeared that everyone else was drained as well.
"I think it's time to address the elephant in the room." She sighed. Your father shared a look with his wife. "You think Y/n will like that?"
Mom rolled her neck and snapped.
"D__n it, (father's name)! These are her friends! This episode clearly shows she's been suffering alone! They can help if they know what's going on! She can't keep bottling this up forever; it's killing her. Do you like seeing her like this? Reliving that night every time she's touched the wrong way or backed into a corner?"
Your father bit out his reply. "Of course I don't! But when Y/n wakes up and sees everyone eyeing her in pity, she'll recluse herself again. It's why she moved in the first place. Not everybody heals the way y'all doctors assume people should!"
Dick sighed and stepped in between the feuding couple. This could go on all night if someone didn't stop them.
They both eyed Dick, wondering what the charismatic boy was fixing to say.
"Unofficial, but official, adopted parents please. Go get Y/n situated then meet us back in the living room." Dick didn't wait for them to respond, he just asked Morgana and Bruce to follow him inside as he helped Barbara's wheelchair get over the balcony's sliding door hump.
Your parents didn't dispute his request. They got you settled in bed before coming back out into the living room with no further arguments.
Your friends were gathered around your living room in various stages of alertness. Dick handed out drinks to go with the sweets Barbara baked earlier.
After being woken up so abruptly, sugar was vital to stay awake.
Exhaustion was all around but this was an important meeting that was about to transpire. Not a second could be missed.
Your dad sat down with a sigh and pulled your mother into his lap.
They finally looked their age as they gathered their thoughts to begin. The air in the room was heavy for the next hour and a half as they explained everything to your closest friends.
What they had to say was absolutely horrifying.
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"You sure you'll be alright dear?" Your mother asked.
She stood in the foyer as Dick and her husband loaded the car downstairs with leftovers early Friday morning.
The morning came with hushed trepidation but the crew was forced to eat breakfast without you.
You had slept on through the night without any other episodes and your mother didn't anticipate for you to wake up until late this afternoon.
Her and your father had to head back to Blüdhaven and Dick offered to drive them so they didn't have to catch a train. Bruce had to head into the office for board meetings and after apologizing to your parents, (your mother assured the billionaire that this wasn't his fault) he left with the promise that he would check on you later today.
Barbara wanted to stick around but she had to return to work herself which left Morgana volunteering to stay at your penthouse to take care of you.
The perks of being your own boss, she joked. 'You make your own hours.'
Morgana smiled at your mother and nodded.
"Yes ma'am, I'll be alright. Dick showed me around so I got a feel of the place. Leftovers are in the fridge so if she wakes up, I'll make sure she eats and provide her lots of emotional support. You told me what to do if she... that happens again." Morgana scratched her cheek, still processing all that was discussed last night. Or rather this morning.
Bruce, Barbara, Dick, and Morgana saw you in a new light after your parents revealed your dark past and they each swore not to cast a shred of pity on you.
You needed them more than you let on.
Barbara and Morgana were beside themselves hearing about your past and they felt awful for almost ruining a friendship over a silly rumor Florence hatched up. That was the least of their concerns right now. Getting you back in high spirits was the only priority.
Morgana called her employees and asked them to deliver a crate of assorted flowers to your apartment building.
You loved her creations so she would surprise you with a giant bouquet for your apartment. It was a tiny gesture in the grand scheme of things but Morgana was willing to do anything to make you happy after last night.
Flowers could liven up the place and ward off bad spirits. She made a mental note to water your sunroom plants while she was here.
"Well dear, you have my number if you need me." Your mother hugged Morgana right as Dick came through the door saying they were ready to go. "You take good care of my baby! We'll be back in a few more weeks." She said.
"Call me if you have a question, Morgana!" Dick offered to the florist.
Morgana waved them both off and closed the door after more pleasantries were exchanged.
Your parents were super cool. Morgana was lucky to have met them even despite the terrible circumstances. She sighed to herself and thought aloud. "What a day.. and it just started."
She had the place to herself until you woke up so she went about accessing the state of your household plants.
They looked a little worse for wear and could stand a special treatment.
The day trickled on and Morgana spent the majority of it working on the lush floral display her employees dropped off at your place. She twisted exotic and local flowers into a gorgeous statement piece but something was missing.
Morgana was wracking her head around exactly what when she swore she heard your bedroom door close.
"Y/n?"
She looked towards the hallway but didn't see anything. A glance at the clock set the day around one in the afternoon.
Your mother was right about you sleeping in. It meant this happened numerous times in the past for her to have a predetermined schedule.
Morgana shivered. How long have you suffered like this?
She saw a blanket-clad figure float down the hallway and set a pink rose down to follow you.
"Y/n are you..." You slammed the door shut right in her face.
Morgana stuttered in shock but pushed it back open only to watch you crawl under the covers. This was so unlike you. "Y/n are you hungry?" She asked hesitantly.
You shifted under the covers away from Morgana's gentle voice.
Your mom warned her that you'd be antisocial for the next twenty-four hours but urged the florist to get some food and water in you. You lost a lot of fluids from crying last night and needed to replenish yourself or risk getting sick.
Morgana sighed at your lack of response but left to fix you a simple plate of food to eat with some water. You were still a hermit when she returned to the bedroom. You were gonna make this babysitting thing difficult.
Morgana sat the glass of water down on the nightstand should you wake up thirsty.
"I left some water and a plate of food if you feel up to it, Y/n." She said.
You remained buried under covers with no plans of returning to the real world. Dick had invaded Joker's room and erased the comforting scent of lighter fluid and cinnamon from the bed sheets.
With the sea of uncertainty floating within your head, you needed something familiar to ground you to the present. You craved Joker and his unique scent but he was nowhere to be found.
You whimpered dejectedly and Morgana's heart went out to you.
She wanted to offer you some emotional support but decided to leave you be. No words of encouragement could help the pain you were in.
She checked on you one last time before leaving your room. Her mind was focused on you and not her surroundings. She received the jump scare of a lifetime when she turned the corner.
"Holy s__t!" Morgana yelped.
Joker pursed his lips and watched your friend try to scramble away. Morgana knocked a figurine on the hallway table over but remained on her feet for the most part. The bauble smashed onto the floor in several pieces and Joker hummed offhandedly at its demise.
"I uh li-ked that one. So! I'm guessing you're the... florist friend."
He blocked her escape and tilted his head in a show of intimidation. It worked like a charm. Morgana's brown eyes were wide like saucers.
"Y/n likes your work. The uhh.. arrangements.. from Arrange Me NoT.. ya see. I wasn't ex-pect-ting visitors so uh sorry bout this..." Joker went to grab Morgana but she shoved the decorative table in his direction and bolted down the hallway.
Joker sighed and gave her a head's start before he easily caught up to her in the living room.
He yanked her back by her hair and Morgana, ever mindful of you trying to sleep, stifled her scream with her palm.
Her back collided with the wall as Joker held a knife up to her throat. It was natural that she panicked but she did so for an entirely different reason.
"You can't kill me, it'll tear Y/n apart!" Morgana looked Joker dead in the eye and pleaded her case. He rolled his eyes and nudged her jugular with his knife.
"S-She's hurting! She's hurting and we didn't know!! If you kill me it'll only make things worse on her! Please, I want to take care of my friend, I won't tell a-anyone! I-I-I promise!" Morgana started to sob but Joker could care less.
He furrowed his brows and gripped his knife tighter, "Whaddya mean.. 'Y/n is hurting?"
Morgana scanned Joker's face. His makeup was more terrifying in person than on tv.
The clown looked serious but she didn't know the guy well enough to know for sure so she asked aloud. "Y-You don't know?"
J rolled his eyes again and smacked his lips. "I wouldn't asK if I diD, now would I? Who. HurT. Her?" Morgana flinched every time he stressed a syllable.
Now, Morgana was a sensible woman. She was book and street smart and used them well in life.
Even with her back literally against the wall, she wouldn't show fear; it wasn't in her free spirited nature. She faced fear with a straight face and dealt with the consequences later, however; this man was worse than fear.
The Joker was unpredictable and unnaturally calm with everything he did. He held her at knifepoint with a lazy grin as if it didn't matter if she answered or not.
She would die regardless.
Her life didn't matter to him so she had to think smart to stay alive. She resorted to her business savvy skills.
Morgana had information that Joker didn't know about and that put a value on her life. It would buy her some time to escape at least.
She nodded to herself and began to work.
"Will you let me go? I-I'll tell you anything, just.. not while being held at knifepoint." Morgana glanced at the weapon resting precariously on her jugular. Any more pressure and the edge would puncture the skin.
Joker narrowed his eyes but guided Morgana over to the kitchen island by her arm after thinking things over. He wanted to hear what she had to say.
He pushed her towards a barstool and leaned down right in her face.
He hoped his fear tactics weren't rusty from misuse yet Morgana looked ready to pass out. His presence alone had her on edge.
"Start. Talking." Joker ordered.
Morgana nodded and closed her eyes. He wasn't giving her any time to react to any of this. She was face to face with the infamous Joker inside her friend's apartment. It was a lot to digest. Just what business did he have with you?
But suddenly, everything made sense.
The reason why you became so secretive out of the blue. Why you denied having relations with Bruce Wayne, how you survived the attack at The Prosperity, and why you wanted privacy at your apartment, now more so than ever. She thought back to when this all started; right after Joker escaped from Arkham Asylum.
You were keeping Joker a secret this entire time right under everyone's nose.
Morgana had to give you props; you did an amazing job but she still had to ask.
"Before I start, I have to know. Are you just using her or are you and Y/n like.. together together?" She made a lewd gesture with her hands. Joker wasn't amused. He clicked his blade back out with a sigh.
"I won'T ask again. Talk or the uhh knife? This one! It comes back." He shook it playfully and its sharp edge gleamed in the kitchen's overhead lights.
Joker wouldn't hesitate plunging the knife into her neck. The clean up would be a pain but nothing he couldn't handle. If she didn't want to willingly talk then things could shift to a more tortuous method of communication.
It was all up to Morgana to decide. Comply or be difficult. He let her mull it over.
Watching Joker's fiddle with his knife was enough to get her talking. This madman would not hesitate in killing her and she knew it. She'd tell him anything as long as that knife kept a safe distance from her. "I'll talk."
Morgana sighed in relief when Joker backed off.
"Okay, wow um, you might wanna sit down for this. It's.. a lot to take in. Ugh, where do I start?"
Joker watched Morgana stall and decided to help her along. He sighed and pulled up a seat in front of her.
"Let's start... righhhht after Florence left yesterday." Joker fixed his suit collar before crossing his ankles. Morgana was in disbelief by his extensive knowledge of the situation.
"How do you...?" Joker sent her a glare.
"You're right, I don't wanna know. Okay, so apparently Florence knows about you and Y/n. F__k, I do too! This is crazy. You and Y/n.. are dating. Anyways, Flo stormed out of the apartment with Neo hot on her heels. It was crazy with everyone talking over themselves and Y/n fainted but thankfully Bruce caught her. We were so worried about her but when she came to, she was still hung up on Florence. Then Y/n and Dick were yelling at each other until her mom broke them up."
Morgana ran a hand through her silk press. This was a lot harder to explain than she thought.
She quite honestly didn't know if The Joker wanted a short summary or a detailed explanation but she continued nonetheless. She chose to info dump to save her own hide.
"We all went into the kitchen– Y/n's parents, Barbs and I, while Y/n, Dick, and Bruce were still arguing in the dining room. Y/n walked past all angry at something Grayson said and slammed her bedroom door close but her mom left us in the kitchen to bring Y/n a plate of dessert. I guess they patched things up. They were up in her room for the—"
Joker had to interrupt. "Y/n let someone into her room?"
Morgana slowly nodded. He had been quiet as she rambled, she wasn't expecting him to interrupt to clarify such a useless detail.
"Yeah, it was her mom so guess it was okay? Well, now that I think about it, Y/n didn't appreciate them 'invading her safe space.' Her words not mine. It was around that time we all decided on staying over for a sleepover and Y/n made sure we were all situated before going to bed. I swear everything was fine when we went to sleep but we woke up to Y/n screaming her head off."
Morgana began to tear up. Joker felt indifferent to the sight since it wasn't your tears. Seeing Morgana's just annoyed him.
She took a deep breath and Joker knew she was getting to the important part.
"When we got to the balcony, Y/n was fighting with Bruce and crying her heart out. She was reliving everything that happened that night and... h-hey woah!! Where are you going?!"
Morgana panicked when Joker shifted to get up from his chair. She blocked his path and he eyed her in disgust.
"Move." Joker could not stand Wayne and his obvious lovesick attraction to you.
You had relations with Bruce that Joker didn't know about and it irked him to have competition for your love.
It was already bad enough that Wayne was at your apartment, that he spent the night, and then had the audacity to put his hands on you. But he messed up by making you cry. The man was begging for death at this point.
Joker would enjoy murdering Gotham City's most upstanding citizen. He already had a thousand ways to do it brewing inside his head. However, Morgana was in his way.
She hesitantly pushed him back and apologized when Joker gave her a harsh glare. Note to self: do not touch the psychotic clown, she thought.
She tried to calm down his murderous campaign by telling the truth.
"It wasn't Bruce! He was only trying to help!" Joker rolled his eyes (what help has Wayne ever been) but she put her foot down and continued.
"IF YOU STOP JUMPING TO CONCLUSIONS AND LET ME FINISH, YOU WOULD UNDERSTAND!" She slapped her hands over her mouth and looked up at Joker.
She did not just yell at this man. Morgana did some questionable things in her life but that had to be the most reckless of them all. She glanced towards the bedroom and hoped that she wasn't too loud.
Joker was seriously considering snapping her neck for raising her voice at him.
His patience was thin today and this girl was testing it to the limits. Although he was curious as to why she stifled her voice.
He followed her gaze and eyed her quizzically. Morgana answered his unspoken question.
She dropped her hand, "Y/n is sleeping. It took forever to calm her down last night." 
Joker closed his eyes and sighed. He was so busy handling the Florence situation with Neo last night, he didn't stop and check on you. And that proved to be a big mistake.
Once again, when you needed Joker the most, he was nowhere to be found. His sweet Bunny was terrified last night and had to rely on Wayne of all people for comfort. Joker had failed you yet again. It left a sour taste in his mouth.
He assumed guilt and vowed to atone for his failure in blood.
"Uhhh what, errrr rather who made her cry? Who I'm killing?" Joker asked out of the blue.
He sat back down on the barstool and Morgana eyed him briefly as she thought over her answer. If she told the truth, then he would go out and start a murdering spree.
"No one I think? Like I said, Y/n was in total hysterics last night. Her parents knew exactly what to do to calm her down from her episode. She... she had a panic attack about the night she was—" Morgana stopped and looked away.
The most important part and she couldn't say it aloud. She fought back tears and faced Joker.
He needed to know but the words were caught in her throat.
Joker wasn't a fool. Something was hurting his Bunny that he didn't know about. Correction; He knew something from your past still haunted you for a while now.
There were signs that he picked up during his brief time with you.
You were a recluse despite being so young and you avoided all types of human interaction outside of your close circle of friends. He also noted you did not have any male friends, except for the Grayson boy.
You visibly became uncomfortable around the opposite sex. Him included at times.
Joker knew about your claustrophobia and anxiety in tight spaces. He noticed you would eye him warily when the two of you would take the elevator, or that you preferred open floor plans, and most of all– he remembered the conversation the two of you shared after he rescued you from Two Face's warehouse.
Joker couldn't ignore the fact that another man was on top of you earlier. "Did he.. uh you know.." Joker brushed your thigh in passing.
"No and could you just drop it? I-I don't want to be a victim again."
And Joker would be a fool not to remember the comment you made as he prepared to take you for the first time that same night.
"Um.. almost two years. B-Before I moved to Gotham. It's one of the reasons why I moved." You met Joker's knowing gaze and weakly smiled. "It's in the past. I'm okay. Really. You can touch me.. I ahh I like it when you do."
Two years. You didn't want to be a victim again. You moved to a different city to get away from the trauma someone inflicted on you.
You liked Joker's touch but it took him forever to acclimate you to it without flinching.
You still did every now and then but he paid it no mind since you would relax after a second or two. Joker noticed every little thing about his Light but he dismissed all the warnings signs.
The truth was right there. He was just too selfish to address them.
All the times he was too rough in bed or grabbed you unexpectedly, came crashing down on him. What if he pressured you into something you didn't want? What if he triggered old wounds and made things worse?
His Light, his ray of hope in this bleak existence of his, deserved to be happy and loved.
Without your smiling face by his side, Joker would be a ruthless madman again; only wishing for the world to burn with no true endgame in sight.
He spent too much time bathed in your light to return to his pointless crusade. What a lonely life he lived before you came and gave it purpose.
Joker didn't know what to do with the fact that his Light was miserable inside.
Morgana watched him slip down a mental rabbit hole. He looked lost in thought as a weight settled over his brow.
She wondered what you saw in the man but the longer she stared, she could see some of the appeal. He was hot if she squinted. Joker obviously cared a great deal about you and his eyes were a complex shade of green that Morgana had never seen before.
You had a thing for eyes.. but the fact you made someone like The Joker have feelings for another human being was an achievement in itself.
Morgana hated to interrupt his thoughts but she finally found the courage to continue. She cleared her throat to continue but Joker cut her off.
"Don'T say it. I know. I've.... known for a while now." He swept his arm across the kitchen counter and sent items crashing to the floor.
Morgana jumped at the unexpected action and watched Joker stand up and begin pacing the room, mumbling to himself.
He was about to start breaking more things when Morgana stole his attention.
"Now you see why I asked you earlier?" Joker shot her a glare. She swiftly changed her tone. "Are you just using Y/n... or are you going to be there for her? Y/n needs us, all of us, and if you're just using her, I'm sorry but I can't allow that!"
Joker laughed, "What are ya gonna do, hmm? Stop me? Now.. that? That is funny. But don't worry– I'm not using Y/n.. I lov—"
Joker stopped himself mid sentence and Morgana caught onto what he almost said. Her jaw dropped in disbelief.
You could hear the fridge humming in the background, it was so quiet in the kitchen.
"O-Oh. Well, um that wasn't on my monthly bingo card but alrighty now." Morgana fell back onto the barstool.
This was awkward. She stole a glance at the criminal frozen in place as he registered what he just confessed to.
He finally almost said it aloud. He'd been struggling for days to tell you in person but managed to say it to your friend, no sweat. She had to die now. No one could know he had feelings.
Joker turned his head like an owl and Morgana instantly picked up on his murderous intent.
She moved so there was an island counter in between Joker and her. She valued her life, thank you very much.
"Hey now! No need to get all murder stabby stabby on me! T-That's amazing! H-have you told Y/n yet?"
Joker curled his lip. "No. Where is she?" He glanced down the hall and was about to storm off when Morgana flailed her arms.
"Wait! Don't wake her up!!" Her shout worked in getting Joker's attention but now she had to do damage control. Joker did not like her ordering him around. Morgana could work on establishing an acquaintance later, your health was more important.
"You can't just drop an L bomb after everything that's happened, are you crazy?! Now is not the time and news flash! She doesn't need— Uh excuse you?! Hey, are you listening to me?"
Morgana dashed down the hallway to catch up to Joker. She slipped past him and blocked the door frame with her body. "Listen to what I'm saying!"
Joker eyed her like a pest. Did she seriously think she could stop him?
"Y/n can't stand men right now. She drew blood trying to get away from Bruce and she couldn't tolerate her own father's presence. You don't know what her ex did to her. You don't want to see her like this." 
Joker stared at Morgana as her warning sank in.
If he had any clue what your sorry excuse for an ex did, then you needed someone to comfort you more than ever. Isolation was the last thing you needed right now.
As someone who frequently battled voices inside of his head, silence was the enemy and made matters worse. Joker knew that for a fact that you don't handle separation well, so why did Morgana think leaving you to your thoughts was a good idea?
It was a recipe for disaster.
He understood why you're terrified of men but you never feared him before. Why start now?
Joker smacked his lips and shoved Morgana aside. She yelped as he opened the bedroom door and glanced around.
Same original hardwood floors, same vegan cowhide rug.
The leather couch with two accent chairs, one slate grey, the other sage green, were still over in the corner by the electric fireplace and the view of Grant Park from outside was half obscured by the curtains. A single beam of sunlight was the only source of light within the room.
Everything was the same yet vastly off due to the fact that your aura wasn't thriving in the room.
It felt cold and bereft of life.
Joker was eyeing the open closet door when he saw something shift on the bed.
There was a sizable lump in the middle but he recognized the shape from anywhere. You were buried underneath the covers and doing your best impression of a blanket burrito. He could tell that you were awake.
You were timid but curious of the presence that entered the room. Subtle movements revealed you were tracking his every footfall.
Joker exhaled before walking over to stand beside the bed. He rather rip the band-aid off than freak you out by stalling.
Morgana picked herself up from off the floor and entered the room, only for Joker's eyes to force her back out.
She understood the message within the greenish hue.
"I was neva here." She said as she walked backwards out the door. It clicked shut behind her.
With her gone, Joker could finally breathe a sigh of relief.
He wasn't out of the woods just yet since Morgana would surely stay inside the apartment, (little did he know, she was cupping her ear to the door, trying to eavesdrop) but he could be more forward with his actions. It was a relief that your rooms were soundproof; Joker had a lot on his mind.
"I know you're awake."
The pile of covers flinched and shrunk in on itself. Joker shrugged off his coat and tossed it onto the leather couch. It landed heavily with a distinct metal clank.
"You probably need, uhh, space but I can't leave ya alone. NoT now. I'm here. If you need me." Joker sank a knee onto the bed and crept forward until he bumped against you. He heard the sharp inhale you made upon contact and wisely backed off.
You were a gentle soul both inside and out. You didn't deserve to be frightened of something as simple as human touch. He wanted nothing more than to spoil you with affection, however Joker would be patient and regain your trust again. You were worth the wait.
Just like the bunny he named you after, he would wait until you came crawling out of your hiding hole, curious to explore.
And just like he expected, you slowly poked your head from out of the covers before looking around the room. He stayed out of your eyesight so he wouldn't startle you, but somehow, you knew he was there.
It wasn't that dark in the room but he was hesitant to turn on a light until you asked him to.
"W-Who's t-there?" You turned your head and locked eyes with pools of jade.
Joker didn't move a muscle as you lookedbut didn't fully see him. He noticed you shaking. You probably saw someone else with your unstable mind.
"Y/n, it's me." J waved at you but you shrunk back further into the covers.
He had to think fast and jog your memory. He was the one that gave you a slew of nicknames but you didn't have one for him. He was just J.
Not very helpful in this current predicament.
Joker still had his makeup on and it would remain until Morgana left the penthouse for good. It eliminated him from showing you the constellation of freckles you loved so much on his face. That for sure would restart your memory.
What was something the two of you shared that could help familiarize Joker to you?
He had yet to give you anything of sentimental value so he striked that off the list. He was shifting his weight on the bed when you tensed.
Your nose flexed just like a bunny, he thought it was cute.
"I should ahhh–"
You cut Joker off. "Lighter fluid and something.. metallic. It.. it smells like that when I'm safe with.. J? Where, w-where were you? Why didn't you stop him..?"
There were many things in this life that Joker overcame. He been in the world's most toughest jails, endured inhumane torture methods, and fought against the greatest superheroes and lived to tell the tale. Yet despite all of those feats, he was brought to his knees at the sight of your tears time and time again.
They were daggers straight to his heart. He couldn't bear seeing his Light in so much pain but despite the agony, he couldn't look away.
You clung tighter to the comforter around you.
"I-I don't know what's r-real anymore! I can hear him telling me it's okay but it's your hands hurting me. You wouldn't do that! Your hands are warm w-with callouses on the palms and index fingers. I begged you to stop! Why won't you s-stop?! Please.. just.. Why weren't you there when I needed you?"
Joker hated to admit it, but Morgana was right. He didn't need to see you like this.
He was living in a nightmare seeing his precious bunny struggling to see the truth. Your mind was all mixed up, fighting both the past and the present.
He had to do something although he didn't know what.
"I.. I wasn't here last night, but uhh, I'm here now. C'mon, Y/n, tell me what ya need me to do."
Joker would give you the world on a silver platter if you asked for it, but he felt utterly useless watching you spiral into madness. His heart stopped beating after he heard your watery plea.
"It hurts, please stop." You weren't thinking clearly and he began to worry when you started to breathe erratically.
He couldn't sit around and watch you suffer. Joker threw all caution to the wind and pulled you in for a hug, covers and all.
At first you resisted– Joker thought he messed up big time– but you sagged further in his arms and buried your face into his chest.
You grabbed fists full of J's suit and inhaled.
The unique cocktail that only Joker possessed, helped you recognize who held you tightly. You sobbed knowing that your Dark Prince was finally here. You thought Joker abandoned you.
"I don't want him to come back, please don't go!" You looked up at Joker.
Your big e/c were frantically staring into his. He sighed and tucked a wayward curl back into place under your bonnet– for once, you didn't flinch, rather you leaned into his touch. Your cheek felt so cold against his hand.
Something in J gave way to the moment.
"If you'll, uh let meee, I'll never let you go. Is that okay?" Joker asked. You looked away and he quickly added. "I won't do anything else, doll. I just wanna be.. here for ya. Let me ahh hold you so... he.. doesn't hurt ya. I won't leave you."
You bit your lip. Joker's arms were soothing for now but you were wary of them.
He could turn violent at a moment's notice. "You promise you won't hurt me?"
You gasped when Joker rested his forehead against yours. It didn't matter that his white paint transferred onto your skin. You weren't expecting such a sweet gesture from him.
It pained him to hear your plea. He feared you were broken beyond repair. But Joker could fix you; he could fix anything if given enough time. 
"I'd let Bats drag me back to Arkham Asylum before I'd lay a finger on ya. Never again." He kept eye contact with you as he grabbed your hand. You surprised yourself by letting him do it.
Baby steps, Joker thought to himself. His eyes squeezed shut as he kissed the fading scar that he made on your palm.
You saw the anguish take hold of his features. Since when was Joker so open to show his emotions?
Joker dropped his usual dialect and talked to you straight. You knew he was serious when his voice also dropped an octave.
Gone was the clown that Gotham City feared, this was just J, a man secretly in love, speaking to you in the hushed air of your room.
"You're my Light. My everything." He used your fingers in his grasp to wipe your tears away.
More rushed to the surface hearing his sincere words but he diligently kept wiping. "These tears I swear, they'll be the death of me. I know it's scary and you have every right to fear me, but if you don't remember anything else– know this Y/n." He waited until you looked at him.
A kaleidoscope of green greeted you and you swore you would never be the same.
"I will never hurt you again. I promise."
Joker whispered your name when you lost concentration and he patiently waited until you looked into his eyes again.
They pleaded with you to understand the unspoken truths his heart was too weak to voice.
Screw what Morgana said about bad timing. He wanted you to know. He had to tell you the truth. Joker cupped your face, "Y/n, I lo—"
You wanted to hear what Joker had to say but your eyes grew heavy all of a sudden. The last thing you ate was that plate of sugar Mom brought you last night. Your body burned through it and demanded more fuel to keep you functioning.
You were dehydrated and your mind and body were running on fumes. You couldn't keep up, so you crashed.
Joker panicked when your body swayed slightly before you fell back. You were unconscious by the time he could react.
He cursed at his failed attempt but recovered quickly to dote on you. Declarations of love would have to wait. His Light was running the risk of being sick.
Joker laid you down and tucked you into bed properly before heading over to the door. Much to his surprise Morgana was there, doing a terrible job of hiding that she was eavesdropping.
She pretended to straighten the abstract artwork hanging outside the guest bedroom as Joker walked by.
She glanced inside and saw you sleeping but knew something happened behind closed doors.
Instead of being a blanket burrito, you were tucked in bed like Sleeping Beauty with the pillows and covers around you almost picturesque.
Joker had a soft side after all. She just witnessed it firsthand. 
Maybe she should tell him everything your parents disclosed last night after all. By the time she caught up to Joker in the living room, he was mid-call.
He saw her approaching and held up a finger.
Morgana dealt with many rude people in her line of work but Joker was probably the rudest of them all.
"... Mmhm, make sure she's discreet this time. One of Y/n's friends is still here. Yeah.. about that.." Joker locked eyes with Morgana. "She's alive. For now."
She froze on the spot. What did for now mean? Was there some kind of 'how to stay alive' program she needed to know about? He had some nerve and this was the man who claimed to love you.
How comforting.
Morgana bounced on the balls of her feet hoping to be acknowledged soon.
Joker discussed some more minor details with one of his henchmen before hanging up. His eyes then flickered over to the vibrant bouquet of flowers Morgana was working on.
She thought he would destroy her hard work but he leaned over to sniff the delicate flora instead.
"For Y/n?" He scanned the work for any imperfections; there weren't any.
He wanted nothing but the best for his bunny. He stared at Morgana, arching an eyebrow when she didn't respond.
"Y–Yeah." Morgana said, "I'm not finished yet! It's gonna be double in size with more Queen Anne lace and roses to r-round it all out. Y/n loves roses and the Eucalyptus will be good for her exhaustion. Its scent is known for its aromatherapy powers plus its good for rejuvenating the spirit and overall elevating one's mood."
Joker nodded and backed off. It was nice to know one of your friends was looking out for you in your time of need.
He was wary of keeping Morgana alive but she was proving to be 'good people' as you had a habit of saying. A far cry from Florence.
Joker grumbled to himself just thinking about the Haitian.
Morgana jumped hearing a rare chuckle from the dark clown. "She'll like them. Now! Let's dis-cuss you. Sit."
Joker clapped his hands and pointed to the blue couch in your living room. He didn't wait for Morgana to act, he was already walking towards the kitchen to grab a water.
He noticed the leftovers in your fridge as he rummaged around for a drink. You probably needed to eat but he'd wait for the doc to look you over and decide what's best.
He snagged two water bottles and headed back to the living room but arrived to witness Morgana swirling a tumbler glass in her hands.
She took a big swig from it as he sat down opposite of her in an accent chair.
She wiped her mouth and tried to explain, "Don't judge me. I need hard liquor after all of this. Want one? I'm great at mixing drinks." She shimmied her shoulders but Joker wasn't amused.
He heard stories from Y/n about Morgana. Her and Florence were the heavy drinkers of the group.
"Y/n doesn't keep alcohol in her apartment." He noted.
Morgana laughed once and polished off her drink. She set it on the coffee table that separated them both. She noticed the clown was right at home in your place but had yet to find her and Flo's numerous stashes of liquor.
"What Y/n doesn't know won't kill her." She failed to dodge the water bottle Joker threw at her face. "OW! What was that for?!"
He sipped on the water while rolling his eyes. Morgana rubbed at her cheek and waited for the clown to finish. He drank the entire bottle in one pull before recapping the top and setting it down.
"Y/n likes to recycle. Ya know-  saving the.. turtles, uhh, one plastic at a time. That's my Light. Always caring for others; failing to take care of herself."
"Isn't she caring for you until you no longer need her?" She interrupted.
Joker licked his scars. Have patience. No need to take your frustrations out on others, he heard your voice recite in his head. He took a deep breath before smiling at Morgana.
"I'm noT leaving Y/n so that means I have to, uhh, geT along with the people in her life. So! This can be a lit-le experiment of sorts between usss. Let's see how long you can keep your mouth shut and I'll.... see how long I can tolerate you without murdering ya! Deal?"
Morgana was at a loss for words. What kind of agreement was that?
"I need another drink." She sighed. Joker's laugh was far more creepier in person than on tv.
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The sound of the doorbell startled Morgana out of her task. She set the spray bottle down and jogged over to the front door to answer it.
She was pleasantly surprised when a beautiful woman was standing outside, chewing on bubble gum with an attitude.
"Can I help you?" Morgana asked.
The female looked up from her phone and glanced down the short hallway, at the elevator, and then back at Morgana.
"Tis boy better not have given me da wrong address. Hold on." She dialed a number and brought it to her ear.
Morgana was left awkwardly holding the door when the mysterious woman began arguing with whoever she called.
The commotion gained Joker's attention all the way in the living room. He recognized the woman at the door instantly. She did the same the moment she spotted Joker.
"Well well! If it isn't my sorry excuse for a patient! I see you're not restin' your leg like I told ya." She sighed.
Joker smiled and leaned on the door frame. "Be glad I didn't kill you after my checK up, doc." He fired back.
Morgana glanced back and forth between the two. "Uhh do you two know each other or something?"
The woman looked Morgana dead in the eye. "I don't know who this man is. I mean, he could be walking down the street, I wouldn't. Sorry to this man."
Joker laughed and she joined along but swatted his hands away when he tried to grab her neck.
The pair walked inside, leaving Morgana utterly confused in the foyer. She watched them talk amongst themselves like two old friends and caught up to them mid sentence.
"..and her hands are sooooo cold, doc. She's been crying her little heart out and passed out in my arms. Whatever can ya do?" Joker pouted as he held the bedroom door open for his esteemed guest.
She walked in and looked around. Leave it for Joker to find some chick with money. She sat her bag down on a nearby table and dug through it for some gloves. 
"Sounds like dehydration. When's the last time she ate?"
Morgana walked in and answered for Joker, "Last night around eight ish? It was a plate of dessert but she ate dinner too. Hi, I'm her friend and you are?"
"Name's Sarai. I'm this idiot's on-call doc." Sarai dabbed Morgana up before facing her employer. "Now, where's my patient?"
Joker was too busy stewing in jealousy. He liked secret handshakes too. What gives?
"You don't do that with me doc. I thought we were errr close."
She eyed him like a fed up mother would her child. "You ain't black, Joker. Now move." She pushed him aside and approached the bed, but stopped as if she saw a ghost.
She treated hundreds of patients a day but she never forgot a face. "I remember her."
Sarai picked up your hands and sure enough, the jagged cut that she treated almost a month ago was still there. Your hands were cold to the touch just like Joker said and also a bit clammy.
"Did you do this?" She pointed at your palms. Joker sat down by your side and had the decency to look ashamed. He sighed before nodding.
Both Sarai and Morgana stared at him in disbelief. He looked so remorseful.
Joker was such a man child at times. One would have thought Sarai scolded him with the way he was acting. She flicked her braids over her shoulder with a huff.
Today they were blonde butterfly locs reaching down to her waist. When she shook her head, they moved with her. Joker eyed them curiously. How did she work in the hospital with such long braids?
"I knew I shoulda filed a police report. Her shoddy story bout mistakin' the pepper grinder for a knife was too sketchy."
She donned her pink gloves before she gently opened your mouth. "Ah, as I thought. She's dehydrated. You want an IV in her?"
Morgana stood on the other side of the bed to watch this interaction up close. There was actually a person not afraid of The Joker!
This supposed doctor was talking to him any kind of way and he paid her no mind. She would demand something out of her bag and he would grab it, no questions asked.
But he pushed Morgana to the ground and threw water bottles at her when she raised her voice at him. This man was truly unpredictable.
Morgana let her intrusive thoughts get the better of her. "So you're a real doctor and you willingly work for him?"
She slapped a hand over her mouth after she spoke but it was too late. Sarai was inserting an IV into your arm but chuckled at the insult. She admired her handiwork before replying.
"Dr. Sarai Obukofe, chief trauma surgeon at Gotham General. Joker's house calls pays more tho. Don't give me dat look. I'm from Blüdhaven, his crimes ain't nothin' n' Jokester here won't hurt friends of da family. Won't ya now?" She nudged his leg with her own.
Joker hummed. It was neither affirmative or negative.
Morgana slowly nodded. She picked up the thick Blüdhaven accent at the door but she was still confused.
"Friends of the family?" She questioned.
Sarai rigged the IV bag to your bedpost. It would have to do since she didn't pack an IV pole. Not like she could.
This was an off the books house call after all. She received a text from her cousin saying to come to an address with her crash kit– strictly on the low.
Sarai automatically knew it was for Joker. She couldn't refuse the job even if today was her rare day off.
She blew a bubble and popped it sharply before eyeing Joker. "How deep is she?" She jerked her head at Morgana.
Joker didn't look away from you to answer. "Accident. I'm con-sider-ing offing her later."
Sarai grimaced and cast sympathetic eyes on Morgana. "Ouch, so an outsider then."
She checked you over when you began to shiver. "Frost mentioned on the phone that she had a 'traumatic experience.' Care ta explain that?"
Morgana had enough. She cut through the air with her hand in a fit of rage.
"No, no! Go back! I thought we had a deal, Joker! We shared a drink together, you said you'd keep me alive if I helped you with this 'get along with others' experiment of yours. Now you're thinking about killing me again? Make up your mind!"
Joker was about to when you whimpered and stole everyone's attention. They were being too loud.
"You're disturbing my patient. Either lower ya voice or move dis conversation elsewhere." Sarai hissed at Morgana.
The florist was trying to keep her cool. These two strangers just barged into your place as if they owned it and had the audacity to boss her around!
She couldn't even defend herself! Morgana wished she'd let Dick stay behind instead. He probably would've handled this situation a bit better than her. Sure he would've fought with Joker and possibly died in the process, but he wouldn't have sided with the madman to stay alive. GCPD would have the place surrounded with Batman en route by now.
She had half a mind to sneak away and call the authorities but one look at you had her second guessing that decision.
The last thing you needed was more stress and strangers surrounding you and your space. You required peace and quiet to heal.
But this clown was on thin f__king ice with her.
It was a lot to handle on a Friday afternoon and Morgana wasn't about to let Joker or this doctor mess with her energy. She took a relaxing breath and found her center.
"I will not let your indecisiveness get the better of me. However if we're to get along– whatever the hell that means, you gotta stop threatening to kill me." Morgana said.
Joker looked at Sarai as if she had the answers.
The doctor was putting away her tools and had no parts in this. She'd stick around until Joker called her back to remove the IV. Other than that, her job was done.
That is until you groaned and blinked your eyes open.
Everyone held their breath in anticipation. You squinted your eyes a few times until you felt a tightness on your forearm.
Much to your horror there was a hospital IV inserted in your vein. You began to claw at it when Joker reached out and stopped you.
"Hey. Hey.. leave thaT alone, baby doll." Your eyes darted up to him.
It took you longer than he liked to recognize him again, but you were slowly coming back to yourself.
"J.. it's cold." Your fingernail picked at the tape Sarai attached to keep the needle in place.
You hated doctors and you hated medical treatment. It reminded you too much of that night and the following weeks thereafter. You didn't want to think about it again, and Joker was right there to distract you from it all.
His hand rested atop yours and squeezed. He felt like a furnace. He sighed, "I knooow but, it's gonna make ya feel better. You uhh want me to hold you? Promise I'm warm, hmm?"
His thumb rubbed circles on your darker skin as you thought over his offer. You relented with a weak nod.
Joker stood up to climb into the bed with you but looked up at something within the room.
"Close the door on your way out. Now."
You wondered who he was talking to and followed his gaze. You and Morgana locked eyes. She was calm, way too calm to be in Joker's presence and the crazy part– he allowed her to be.
Your eyes went back and forth between her and Joker as the wheels in your brain spun out of control. Surely this was a dream.
There was no way Joker would let another one of your friends in on his secret. Then you spotted a third individual standing off to the side. She looked familiar but you couldn't place her at present.
Your mind was too busy grasping at the reality of Joker and Morgana being in the same room without the latter being murdered.
That dream you had of a little boy by the river whispered in your mind.
'She knows and now she has to die.'
He wasn't talking about Florence. He was referring to Morgana.
You shot forward and grabbed a hold Joker's suit vest in a surprisingly strong grip. He looked down at you in intrigue as you started spouting nonsense.
"Not her! Please don't kill her Joker! She's my friend. Y-You promised me!" You were leaving wrinkles in Joker's shirt as Morgana rounded the bed to enter your line of vision.
"Y/n! Calm down, I'm right here! I'm okay!" She stole your attention but it came with a price. You let go of Joker to whirl on Morgana. It was her turn to hiss at your vice-like grip.
"You can't be here! You have to leave Gana. You didn't see nothing! Deny everything! Please.. I-I can't lose you too. I can't lose another friend.. Please."
You sobbed into her arms and she glared at Joker who was still standing off to the side, speechless.
He was coping with the fact you begged him not to kill someone and that he felt obligated to obey.
He wasn't going to let Morgana leave the apartment building alive but the moment you begged him, Joker's hands were tied. He promised he'd never hurt you. That meant physically, mentally, and emotionally. You stopped The Joker with three simple words.
You promised me.
He stood frozen, awaiting your next orders for he truly did not know what to do after discovering the power you held over him.
Morgana managed to get you to lie back on the bed as your burst of adrenaline died out. You felt sluggish all of a sudden.
Sarai stood watch as the pain meds she added to your IV line started to kick in. You fought against the fog and looked over at Joker.
His eyes instantly found yours and thus the staring match began. Your drugged induced gaze had a clear warning in them and you made sure to declare it vocally.
"You hurt my friends.. and I'll never.. forgive you." You fell back asleep and the room breathed a sigh of relief.
Joker feared nothing in this life but your warning hit him like a ton of bricks. He hoped you would forget all of this when you woke up.
If not, then he was in deep trouble.
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lurkinglurkerwholurks · 7 months
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It Wasn't Real (But We Were Happy)
First posted: June 6 2018
Focuses on: Tim Drake and the Fam
Favorite bookmark: "I was clutching my face for the last two chapters."
Second favorite bookmark: "Do you want to cry?"
Tier: Top five in hits and subscriptions, top ten in everything else
This is my “behind the scenes” series where I indulge myself horribly by annotating my fics. Link to the fic itself above.
This is a multi-chapter series, so this thread will be reblogged with each chapter's thoughts added beneath the cut.
Chapter One
This is one of the rare fics where I can remember exactly what was happening when it sprang into being. Mostly. I was walking home on evening, post-rain, and skirting around puddles while texting with @starknjarvis27. I don't remember what started the conversation but suddenly I was knee-deep in emotions about Tim as The Replacement, Tim as Nanny McPhee ("When you need me but do not want me, then I must stay. When you want me but no longer need me, then I have to go."), Tim as Mary Poppins (That's gratitude for you. Didn't even say goodbye?" "No, they didn't.")
I don't think I started writing directly after that, though I may have. I do know I deliberately banked up the chapters and didn't post the first until they were all written. I was worried about losing steam and not finishing. Given how popular this fic is, maybe I should do that more often.
The title is from Dear Evan Hansen (it was 2018, give me a break), from the song "Words Fail," where the main character emotionally confesses the elaborate deception he had built, ensnaring the people he professed to love in a fantasy that he said was for them but really, in the end, was only for himself.
It was said that time was the great equalizer, but Tim didn’t know how that could be true. Time seemed to touch everyone differently, and everyone grappled with it in their own way.
As you've probably noticed, I do this kind of a lot. "It" being both a philosophical beginning and lining up each of the fam and examining what makes them different in certain ways. Both are a good way (for me, the writer, at least) to ease into a fic. Starting is hard.
Dick bobbed in its streams like a vacationer in a tube. He let it carry him along, neither struggling nor straining, but enjoying the ride wherever its path led. Jason floundered, striding through the water until his steps inevitably found the gap of his stolen life. He would lose his footing and plunge under, only to burst above the current with great, heaving breaths and push on determinedly once more.
Again with the water metaphors. I would say I'm sorry but I'm not. I'll also add that this is, of course, Tim's perspective. He's not wrong, but Dick, for example, would likely have a nuanced take of his own relationship with time (that also would not necessarily being objectively right or wrong because perception is subjective, even of ourselves.)
A good many endings surprised him, horrified him, came whistling out at him like fists in the dark. 
I think I use this metaphor more than once in fics. Mentally I tie it to "A Knife in the Dark," the Bree chapter title in The Fellowship of the Ring and later the song title from the Howard Shore soundtrack for the same scene. The whole point is wildly different, but the mental association is there for me, whatcanyado.
But it was only their timing that caught him off guard, never their existence, like turning the crank on a silenced jack-in-the-box. Without the music, he could only guess when the pop and cackle would come, but he knew the lurch in his stomach was inevitable.
My sister was scared of jack-in-the-boxes as a kid/young adult, like Buddy the Elf, so I stole this from her and him.
Alfred would have noticed, had he been around, but timing his exodus to Alfred’s annual sabbatical in England had been Tim’s one act of true cowardice. Alfred would have noticed Tim’s abandonment of the Manor and would have lured him back in with calls or threatening visits from the others or the sheer guilt power of a raised eyebrow.
I think if I were a stronger or braver writer it would have been a good challenge to keep Alfred present rather than shooing him off to England like Superman to space.
No, the hardest task had been quitting the Titans. They didn’t need Tim any more than the Waynes did, but they wanted him. They were his friends. Tim couldn’t see any way to continue with the Titans, however.
Commenters speculated on the Titans showing up. I hope they weren't too disappointed when that didn't happen but I do not know those children at all. And they weren't the point, anyways. The point was Tim and his family.
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thatonebirdwrites · 2 months
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ugh
I woke up crying and so damn depressed. And wondering why I write or draw or create anything. It's just one of those days. It doesn't help that my health is poor -- as in the pain and fatigue has been horrible, and even finishing a chapter to throw up on AO3 didn't net me a boost of serotonin like it usually does. Comments start to fade when a work gets a little too long I've been noticing. Didn't help that my dreams were filled with dying on a besieged space station that was slowly losing air. While the only person on the planet that cared struggled to convince superheroes to save me -- except they wouldn't because I had said 'depicting a genocide like it's an action movie just for the sake of showing it is fucked up.' Weird-ass dream. Though my opinion hasn't changed. Depicting a genocide like it's a fun action sequence where the showrunner is literally on record saying he always wanted to "see" the genocide in his favorite childhood show = fucked up. Oh, while I'm at it, the original showed the aftermath of genocide and how much it harms people for generations in a way that honors those who died, and doesn't turn it into action-porn. It discussed generational trauma and explored how we should never forget or let go of the past, but instead honor and remember it so that we fight to make sure it never happens again, so that the future we build is better and more equitable than before. The 'let's depict a genocide for funsies' showrunner took that nuanced message and threw it out the window; instead had one of the protagonists say: "Let the past go." Then had a whole plot arc about how the weak need to get stronger in order to fight oppression (also fucked up view). Anyway, in my dream, those opinions meant no superhero wanted to rescue me as I was dying on a besieged space station. Sounds about real I suppose. Bonus points if you know what shows I'm talking about. I don't dare tag it because I'd rather not get hate mail. I get enough of that for being disabled, trans, and a writer of wlw ships. But yes, today is my 'I'm pretty isolated and depressed' day. So I'm watching a Norwegian livestream of a train and crying into vegan ice cream.
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olderthannetfic · 1 year
Note
All this talk of fic deletion or orphaning has got me thinking back to a multi chapter fic I submitted to AO3 late March of last year.
In the beginning I was proud of it, because it was the first fic I had put up on my page after a year and a half long writers’ block. I used to be so happy that I made something and I was even inspired to write a few shorter fics after that for the same source media.
But as time went on, I started to doubt that story I put on the Archive back in March ‘22.
I started noticing every single flaw it had, without thinking of its merits. (I’m starting to wonder if it had any merits to begin with.)
To name its flaws off the top of my head, there's no nuance or gray morality (Protagonist Right, Antagonist Wrong, played completely straight), one character gets kidnapped just to give the protagonist someone to angst over and rescue, the protagonist is portrayed as if he's already learned the lesson from the very end of his canon arc (to fight for the future instead of being stuck in the past) and this AU takes place in the middle of his arc, and finally, the ending is a long, drawn out mess that I needed to trim significantly.
So now, in February 2023, I think about this fic and regret it deeply. I should have given it more time. I should've been really thinking about each scene I wrote, why I wrote it and how it serves the story. I should have given more thought to the type of story I was telling!
Instead I put it out on the Archive with very little wait time and I see no way to fix it outside of a complete overhaul (which I do not have time or energy to do.)
I truly don't know what to do.
I also do not understand why my readers never pointed this story's flaws out to me in comments, when I can see them clear as day.
I've been told to leave it up as a way to show my growth, to move on because what's complete is complete and there's nothing more to be done with that particular project. Most of all, I've been told time and time again not to be too hard on myself, but I don't know any other way to be.
Writing a contrived, cliched, horrible mess of a thing is nothing to be proud of, after all. I'm not a beginner, this isn't my first ever fic, English is my first and only language, and I have read enough books to know and do better.
I have no excuse for writing something so shameful.
--
This sounds like mental illness, not a realistic assessment of your fic.
Besides, what's so shameful about bad writing? Lots of people who aren't that young and have been writing for a while still post fairly crummy fic to big archives. That's nothing new and not a big deal.
I think you should leave the fic up as is, but I also think you need to address this mindset because it cannot be healthy for you.
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rgslings · 11 months
Text
Back To You
Pairing: Charlie Cox x Reader
Warnings: fluff, established friendship, comfort?? new writer so bare with me.
Summary: You hadn't seen your best friend in some months due to filming and you thought it was time to make a surprise visit. Little did you know, things would change between you two.
Word Count: 1.8k (short ik D:)
a/n: my first post but this is just a little blurb. i had more ideas for this but i don't know if i wanted to keep writing it or not so if you guys want me to do a second part to this let me know :D thank you sm jess for this idea by the way! (i'm also like HORRIBLE at writing so if this is bad, just excuse me adlkjfdf. i also didn't proof read so :P)
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The almost every day visits or the coffees he brought you in mornings when you had a long day ahead of you, turned into the every few hour texts, sometimes small phone calls if you were lucky. Conversations not lasting long, you were craving not only your best friend, but the man who had become your comfort person. You missed his voice, his smile, the way his big hands rested on the small of your back as he hugged you. Most of all though, you missed his presence.
Now you couldn't see him for a bit of time as he filmed for "Daredevil: Born Again". You were so proud of him, you really were, but the distance killed you. More than you thought it should of, but what could you say, he had your entire heart and he didn't know it. You were always so scared to tell him the truth, especially because you felt like the feelings you had would never reciprocate. Not only wanting to see him, but to tell him the truth on how you truly felt, you booked a round trip to New York to surprise him. Deep down you knew you weren't the only one missing someone. He missed you more than you would ever know.
It was currently 12:35am and you sat on your flight, anticipation killing you from the inside out. You were almost in New York and he had no clue where you were. Calling him earlier that night to have a chat for a bit and say your goodnights was were you left off. Little did he know you were about to leave for your flight, but here you sit now, almost about to hit the run way.
Getting off your plane, you stood in the middle of the airport for a minute, letting all your messages catch up to you. What really caught your eye from a quick gaze was the "I love you sweetheart" text he had left for you. Butterflies flew in the pit of your stomach, roaming freely as a blushed creeped up and onto your rosy cheeks. You could always hear the way he called you sweetheart in your head and it constantly replayed. It was truly music to your ears.
Quickly texting back Charlie saying, "I love you too boo:) hope you're sleeping well<3". You smiled at your own text like a kid in the candy store, imagining his face lighting up to your text. It was only gonna be soon enough till you saw him. I mean you could surprise him now, but honestly, you had no clue where he was staying at the time being. So for now, your plan was to surprise him where you knew he'd be filming tomorrow. And to you, you didn't care who was there to watch. You just wanted to see your "best friend".
Hurrying off to hail a cab, you were soon off to your hotel. Each minute closer till you saw him again. You just for sure wanted to get rest before you saw him later that morning.
(time skip blah blah blah :D)
Waking up the next morning, you quickly sat up, a smile instantly blooming on your face. Today was the day you would break your distance and he still had no clue you were there. Reaching over to grab your phone, you ignored most the notifications, as all you cared about was his.
"Hey sweetheart, hope you slept well. Shoot me a text when you can." was what Charlie had wrote to you just only an hour ago. Not replying, you quickly got up to get dressed. Slightly fast walking into your bathroom, you quickly slapped on some makeup to make yourself feel elegant for this small occasion. You knew he didn't care whether you wore makeup or not, but to you, you always wanted to look good for him. You also reminded yourself when packing to pack his favorite body mist of yours, making sure to apply it evenly.
You remembered the first time you had it on, as it was a new scent for you, and the way he wrapped his arms around you. His nose catching a sniff of it on your neck and then and there, that was per heaven to him. After his comment, you never disregarded to put it on, especially when you knew he'd be around you.
Looking in the mirror, you slightly smirked at yourself, knowing you looked hella good. "Okay this is it, I'm gonna go see him," You spoke to yourself in the mirror, a small squeal of excitement coming out in the end. God, you were like a fan girl meeting her favorite celebrity. I mean he was your favorite, who could blame you. Especially with how he looks… especially those biceps.
Quickly shaking your head, you pulled yourself out of your thoughts. You knew you had no time to think about this now, you needed to see him. Grabbing your purse and phone, you slipped on your shoes and slipped out your hotel door. Little did you know, you left your hotel key card inside.
You knew Charlie wasn't filming too far down the street from where your hotel was and that's exactly why you picked it. As you stepped outside the tall building, you took in the bustling streets of New York. "Oh this should be fun," You muttered to yourself as you started walking in the direction of the set. You hated public crowds, especially big ones like this, and deep down, your anxiety had set in as soon as you set foot off the plane. Pushing past your negative thoughts, you slipped in your earbuds, trying to forget the world existed till you made it to your final destination.
Soon enough, you rounded the corner, keeping your distance as you saw them wrapping up for a break. This was the golden time to see him. Waiting for a few minutes as all the crew continued chattering along, you decided to text him.
"Behind you silly ;)", you texted him.
Confused, he turned around, his eyes instantly catching yours, quickly shoving his phone in his pocket. The inside of you was breaking down with tears as you cupped a hand over your mouth to keep the joyful sobs quiet. Running across the crosswalk as fast as you could through the crowd of people, you ran to him, throwing your arms around his neck. You didn't even give him another second to look at you before you latched onto him. He knew how much you had needed him these last few months and it broke his heart when he couldn't be there in person, but now that was all over. It was you and him, right here, right now.
You held back your sobs as best as you could, but deep down, this was what your heart had yearned for on the nights where you were down. These were the same arms you wanted wrapped around you when you wanted to cry, and now, here there were at once. "When did you get here?", Charlie asked surprised, only pulling back enough to look into your eyes. You giggled a little at the confusion in his voice. "Last night actually, but I wanted to rest before I saw you", You responded with the biggest smile on your face. Actually, you didn't know who had the bigger smile.
That was one thing you always loved about Charlie. His smile could always light up a room and it especially always light up your world. Always.
"You shoulda told me sweetheart! I woulda loved to see you last night. I missed you so much," He said cutely, resting his chin on top of your head, pulling you back into him. "Well don't worry, I'm here now. I missed you so much too though. I know you know that," You said replying back, closing your eyes and taking in the moment. Charlie's heart broke on the inside at your words though. It hurt him to know he had to be gone so much. He knew you this is how it had to be and you supported him dearly, but he also knew how much it broke your heart for him to have to be gone. Deep down, he was more than happy you were here. Little did you know, he missed your comfort just as much as you did his.
"Well, you know I don't have a break too long, but we can spend sometime together, maybe order some takeout tonight and chill yeah?", He said, pulling back to look at you again. You nodded your head slightly and stepped out of his arms a little more, giving more friendly like space. "Yeah that'll be grand," You joked, referencing back to one of his other characters he plays. A small chuckle escaped his lips as he hugged you once more.
After spending a little time eating at a cafe on the corner, you spent the remainder of the day just sight seeing. Not doing too much, but you wanted to find something to do since Charlie had to film. Later that night though, you walked to his apartment he had there, after he told you were it was, and knocked on the door. Opening it, you caught his eyes gazing at you a little longer than they should of, but you ignored it and stepped into his apartment.
"It's not much, but what could I say? I don't need much," He said and you laughed at that. "I mean that's true," You commented back, kicking your shoes off and dropping onto his loveseat.
"Man this couch is nice," You spoke up after some silence, cuddling more into it and Charlie chuckled at you. "I agree with you there," He replied as he was typing away at his phone, standing up in the kitchen.
Walking over to the couch, he moved your feet, plopping down with a sigh.
"Hard day love?", You asked with slight concern in your voice and he nodded.
"Better now that you're here though," He said smiling and picked up his phone again. You blushed at his words and tried to hide your face by looking into the distance of the small living room. 2 small book cases built into the cream colored walls as he had a small tv stand in between, flush against the wall. A small flat screen sat on top, a few dvds spread across the top. Few small paintings and posters plastered the walls across the apartment, giving a small flow of artwork. It was a comfy space to you and you quite enjoyed it, even if it was your first time here.
"You good with Chinese for takeout?", Charlie asked out of the blue and you just nodded tiredly. He already knew what you liked, so the topic wasn't much in question. Quietly turning on the tv, he glanced over, noticing your eyes starting to get heavy. Charlie knew you long enough now to know exactly what that meant. Soon you were gonna swoon into sleep.
Charlie lured the blanket that situated on the back of the couch onto your serene body. Man was he in love with you and you didn't even know it.
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