#THEY are monsters who deserve to be wiped off the face of the earth? look at yourself. good god.

[smile-files]

oh yeah, i think it's important to differentiate between the ideas of a "jewish ethnostate" and a "jewish homeland", as a jew myself especially --

of course we deserve a place where we feel safe, a place that puts emphasis on caring for us and not treating us like dirt. but that is not the same as a place that allows ONLY us to be there. (and we are talking about a mass of land, not an affinity club or anything -- we're talking about somewhere people live. who gets to be a part of it is not something you should be policing on lines of race or religion.) we have no right to lay claim to land and force other people out of it. we have no right to a jewish ethnostate.

"oh but if there are any non-jews in our land they'll treat us badly like they always have!!!" no, that's just cynical nonsense. if anything, you're letting the antisemites win by agreeing with the omnipresence of their bigotry. yes, tons of people have been horrible to us. that won't get better by running away from them and hurting other people in the process.

also, it is very worthy of note that jews and their ancestors have lived in palestine, for a great portion of history in fact, but were conquered multiple times by multiple empires and expelled to the diaspora. of course jews want to live in palestine! of course! but palestinians are just as indigenous to the land as we are -- we have absolutely NO right to kill them and kick them out and say it isn't their home (which is exactly what so many empires did to us, in the same land no less).

endorsing zionism and anti-palestinian rhetoric, as a jew, is hypocritical, cruel, and wrong. let palestine be free, as they (and we) deserve to be. they are facing the same terrors we have; let us stand with them.

#melonposting #free palestine #and seeing jews post stuff about the israeli hostages -- #i know you want your loved ones back!! i know i know i know!!! #i would never wish that kind of pain on anyone -- to be taken hostage or lose a loved one to that. it is truly heartbreaking and horrible #and of course we have loved ones in israel in general. and of course we're so so so worried for them #but no matter what you think of hamas and what they're doing -- palestinian CIVILIANS do not deserve your hatred and genocide for it #these people just trying to live their lives like everyone else? these poor children orphaned in the blink of an eye? #THEY are monsters who deserve to be wiped off the face of the earth? look at yourself. good god. #and i'll admit. i haven't read as much as i'd like on hamas. for all i know they are horrible (i genuinely don't know) #but that gives you NO right to endorse the constant cruelty israel has been waging on palestinian civilians.

[deandoesthingstome]

Back to Reality - A Final Fantasy

Pairing: Werewolf!Walter x Reader

Summary: Go get your wolf, girl!

Word Count: 5.2K

Warnings: 18+, NO MINORS, oral sex (m and f receiving), p in v (missionary), fingering, monster fucking (right?).

A/N: A little angst never hurt anyone, right? It'll all be okay. I swear. I wanted to get this out the day after Geralt, but life. At any rate, I think this is it for now. A real nice end to spoopy season with Walter.

Fantasy Hotel Masterlist

“Hi.” 

He wasn’t right there when you turned from the counter after picking up your coffee, but he was standing close enough that there was no mistaking who he was greeting. Had he been any closer, you probably would have sloshed your latte all over his chunky, dark blue sweater and you were glad you stopped short when you saw him. You didn’t think he’d want to smell like pumpkin spice the rest of the day.

“Hi yourself,” you smiled, a little shyly. 

When you asked at the front desk if they really meant anything, and then again if they could get a message to Walter, you had no idea he’d show up at your regular coffee shop the very same day. As in the day after the night you'd just been with another man. It wasn’t as awkward as you’d thought it might be, but it wasn’t exactly relaxed either.

You'd been dreaming of this moment, but now embarrassment began to creep in and you wondered if you'd made a mistake. Several of them. Four to be exact.

"Would you like to sit and talk with me?"

The urge to sink right to the floor in front of him was hard to resist but you were still at a coffee shop and people were lined up to grab their to-go orders so you found an empty table in a secluded corner and sat yourself down across from him.

His eyes were melancholy and you imagined they matched the lonely howl from your night with August. There was no mistaking it and you wanted to wipe the sorrow from his face but how could you? You were likely the cause and he was probably just here to tell you to forget it as a courtesy since you'd stupidly put your business on blast at the front desk. Fuck.

"You alright over there? You look a million miles away. You sure you're okay to talk with me?"

You took a deep breath and let it rush out.

"It's really nice of you to do this in person. A lot of guys would just not call."

"Not call? What are you...? What do you think is happening here?"

"I mean, you came to tell me to back off, right? Like, you're flattered and all, but you wouldn't, couldn't be with me after everyone I've been with. I mean, you worked with those guys."

"So you know I don't work there anymore. That was the first thing I wanted to say, so good. That's out of the way."

Why would he want you to know that? Maybe so you knew you could keep going back to the hotel and not have to worry about running into him? He continued.

"But why on earth do you think I'm here to tell you to back off?" he raised a quizzical eyebrow at you.

It was as if all the air was suddenly knocked out of you and it was all you could do to gather your wits to answer him.

"Well, I just thought...I mean, you can't possibly want someone who..."

"What? Someone who isn't afraid to go after what she wants?" Now both eyebrows raised.

"Walter. You can't mean that. You...I'm sorry but you don't look like someone who's super excited about the prospect."

He paused.

"I know I look tired. I am tired. I've been up nights trying to figure this out. But, look, my exhaustion is also not all about this. I left the hotel for a few reasons. One was you, but maybe not why you think."

"Well, why did you?"

"It's not ‘cause I fell hard, though I did. And you might think that made it difficult to keep hosting, and you'd be right. But honestly I got torn. Torn between knowing you were having the time of your life, which you absolutely deserve to do, and dealing with the taunting."

"Taunting?"

"Some of the guys figured out how I felt, and one of them started giving me shit about it. Betting me he could steal you from me if you ever made it to his room, not that you were even mine to begin with. And, yeah, feeling the way I do made it harder and harder to host properly so I made a decision."

"You left."

"I left."

You thought back to your night with August and now you knew for certain he was referring to Walter. And after what Geralt had said, you wondered why August gave you an option to shut him out. It sounded like August wanted Walt to see, to know you were being satisfied by another man. You could understand how that must have felt. You had jealous thoughts, too, when you found all Walt’s time slots had been booked. Imagining him with other women, well, it wasn’t all bad, but it wasn’t the greatest feeling in the world either. And yet, Walter indicated there were other reasons he left.

"But that's not all?"

"I was also studying part time and between all the bookings, I was falling farther and farther behind. I had to stay up late to finish assignments and I had an important test coming, so I quit to focus on that because I never wanted to host forever, but once you came along, I never wanted to do it again."

You were speechless. Awestruck. If anyone had told you that Walter felt the same way about you from the get go, as you found yourself feeling about him after weeks of experiences, you would have said they were crazy. And yet, here he was, spilling his guts. He gave it all up without even knowing if he had a shot with you.

"And you don't care I went back? To other rooms?"

Walter looked around the coffee shop, then turned and spoke cautiously to you.

“Can we…? Look, I know we don’t really know each other, and if you want to do this in a public place, I get it. But could we at least take a walk? I feel like everyone’s looking at us and I can’t think straight.”

This man was flustered and you were, too. Confused by all the feelings and emotions and confessions. Plus, what did you really know about Walter anyway?

“I’m going to text some friends and let them know where I am and who I’m with. Is that okay?”

“Yeah. Of course. We’ll just head across the way to the park, okay?”

“I’ll be right out.”

sendmeanangel: you’ll never guess who showed up to get coffee this morning    sendmeanangel: we’re having coffee and talking in the park across from a place called The Runcible Spoon.   sendmeanangel: I’ll text again in an hour so don’t expect any replies until then

Then you shut off your phone and headed out to meet Walter.

MNstrluvr: Ohmygodddd! darkgothnightengale: it’s all happening!!! Where are you now? darkgothnightengale: hello??? I know it’s only been 20 minutes but how can you not have just admitted your feelings and jumped his bones by now? Give us all the details!

You found him on a park bench and sat, one leg drawn up with a foot tucked under your other knee so you could turn to face him while you talked. You wanted him to reach out and touch you as well, run his hand over your arm while you talked, but maybe you weren’t there yet. Maybe that would be awkward.

He took a deep breath and began.

"As to your question from before: I can't lie and say I don't care or wish I'd told you that very night how I thought I was feeling, but I thought it was way too soon to trust those feelings. And since you didn't know, and we weren't together, how could I expect you to just not do what you wanted? That's something else that's kept me up at night. Thinking about how to reconcile my feelings about you with both our pasts.”

Walt went on to tell you how much your night together had affected him. How he couldn’t get you out of his mind. He apologized for the locker room talk. He knew Sy had mentioned it and he felt miserable about it. It was just something they did, share notes in case a guest came back around so they could make sure to work any of their favorite things into the stay. They weren’t usually so personal with the comments, but he’d gotten carried away.

August had been particularly prickish about it, especially when it became clear how uncomfortable talking about the guests was making Walter, even going so far as to taunt Walter with the exact date and time of your reservation in his room. He’d given notice the next day.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“You quit your job over me. Well, sorta. What are you going to do now?”

“I was already working towards my private investigator license. Ironic, huh? A PI and I couldn’t find the one person I really wanted. I asked the hotel, but they were not interested in breaking protocol or the privacy agreement. And until I got the call this morning, I thought I wasn’t on the best of terms with them anyway. I think I left them kinda high and dry. But the desk agent is a friend.”

“Yeah, Geralt mentioned something…” you trailed off, embarrassed to be bringing up your latest conquest.

“Who’s Geralt?” Of course he didn’t know.

“He’s a new host at the hotel,” you answered sheepishly.

“Oh. Right.” Walter looked away for a moment. “Of course.”

“Walter, I’m sorry. I wasn't trying to hurt your feelings.”

“By going back there?” he turned to you again. “How could you know I had feelings to hurt?”

“Well, I knew I had feelings that hurt.”

He stared at you in disbelief as you continued.

“I thought about you almost every day after our night together. I kept going back to different rooms, because I’d had such a good time and I wanted to see what else was out there. And look, I did have good times. I hope that’s not a problem.”

“I hosted other guests after you. I can’t really say anything about it, can I?”

“Right. Okay, well. The more time that went by, the more hosts I met and experiences I had, the more I knew I only wanted you. And then I couldn’t find you.”

“Find me?”

“I tried to re-book your room for weeks. You were always full.”

“You tried… What?”

“I know it’s probably super odd for me to keep going back there the way I have been, and then admit that I also wanted to come back to your room. But it’s true. That’s what’s been happening.”

“I guess the only thing I can say to that is I’m flattered. And then to let you know that if you still feel that way, I’d love to take you out tonight. I’d love to stop talking about all this time we’ve lost and maybe see if we can move forward. Because it took me a while but I realize it doesn't matter either way. Whether you went back or not. You are your own person. You're allowed to experience life the way you want to. I'm just here hoping you want to experience it with me again."

sendmeanangel: okay, i’m back and still alive, but i need a shower. Gimme another hour. I’ll fill you in I swear! MNstrluvr: meana, where are you????? Did you already fuck him???

sendmeanangel: oh my god you guys are insane. It’s only been 45 minutes MNstrluvr: you can’t just drop that and run. You had to have to known we’d need more sooner sendmeanangel: i think i’m allowed to gather all the intel before i share it with you lol darkgothnightengale: you got your intel and then bailed for a shower! Boo! MNstrluvr: so what’s happening? Why are you stalling like this??? sendmeanangel: he’s taking me out on a real, honest-to-goodness date tonight MNstrluvr: YES!!! Where are you going? sendmeanangel: dinner and then a moonlight walk darkgothnightengale: isn’t it a full moon tonight? sendmeanangel: yep ;) MNstrluvr: you are so getting fucked outdoors!! sendmeanangel: Wait someone's at the door. I think it’s my lunch. Hold on. MNstrluvr: send them away and come back to finish this talk!!!

"Walt? What're you...?" you spoke with surprise, thinking he wouldn't be here to pick you up for dinner for another five hours at least. It had only been one since you gave him your address and left him at the park, floating home on cloud nine. Now he stood in front of you, a bag of food in his hand.

"I couldn't wait any longer. I had to just...can I...?" Walter  dropped the bag and made a motion, hands out in something like a plea, knee beginning to bend with something like reverence. Nothing you understood until you nodded your head.

He stepped forward then, into your space, your tiny studio apartment that until now was always just fine for your needs but suddenly seemed three sizes too small for the man who was bending to kiss you and wrap his arms around your thighs, urging you to encircle his waist with your legs as he moved to kick the door closed behind him.

Your fingers tangled in his gorgeous locks as you relished the feel of his lips on yours once more. You'd only experienced that two times with Walter at the hotel, and the urgency of only one of those came even close to the feel of this one, and you suddenly wondered if he'd held something back when he kissed you goodbye back then. The euphoria blinded you to any other movement until you felt your body peeled from his and deposited on your sofa. And not that you minded couch sex, as previously confirmed with Mike, nor were you assured in the moment that couch sex was the end goal, but you wondered briefly when you'd have a moment to help him unfold the futon, since your studio only had enough room for a convertible bed.

For now, Walter simply slipped down to the floor and settled between your thighs, braced his arms tightly against your hips, caressed the bare skin between your shirt and pants with his rough hands, and nuzzled his face into your stomach. You held him close, hands still shifting through his curls and you could swear you heard a whimper, but whether from you or him it didn't seem to matter.

For a few beats, it was just this sweet. A man on his knees before you, somehow awed by your presence and content to be pressed against you, to feel you hold him close. And then it was more. Then it was his mouth, covering a clothed breast with warmth, teeth nipping at the flesh through your shirt, his tongue leaving saliva on the fabric so that it clung to your erect nipple protruding proudly regardless of your bra and top in the way.

When he noticed you staring down, as if surprised by your body’s own response, he simply smirked and moved his attention to the other side. When he tired of the barrier, he slipped his hands up your back under your shirt to unhook your bra, then lifted both articles of clothing up your body and pulled them off your arms, before returning his attention back to your chest and his hands to your hips.

Heat was building, and along with it, an urge to roll up into him. When he felt the movements of your hips, he drew a hand over one thigh to cup it against your clothed sex as he peeled his head back to gaze up at you.

"Just as eager as I am," he grinned. "I like that."

"Please, Walter," you begged, though for what exactly you weren't sure.

"I got you," he emphasized with a firm press of the heel of his palm, dragging it up and over your increasingly sensitive nub to hook his fingers into the waistband of your leggings. At your approval, he removed them and settled back between your legs, though he nuzzled a little lower than before.

He dragged you down, pulling your ass off the edge of the futon so he had a clear path to his objective. You expected him to dive right in, hoping he remembered what he already learned from before, and then he spoke and your mind exploded.

"Such a delightful sight," he said, tracing down the crease of one thigh and up the other with a finger you desperately wanted him to dip inside you. And he could tell. "She's so eager, positively dripping, isn't she?" He squeezed an inside thigh, then nipped and licked the other before speaking again.

"Yes, Walter. Please," you gasped, already anticipating the sensations he was going to create for you. You shuddered and bucked involuntarily at his low chuckle, putting your pussy directly against his lips and he didn't try to resist any longer.

His hunger was apparent, and it matched the desire building in you. He lapped eagerly, licked and sucked with need, tongued expertly at all the spots he already knew were favorites and then he found a few more, too. You tried to hold onto a fleeting thought about his technique before it drifted into the air above you as you found your fingers back in his hair, clutching and pulling him close to your core. Walter feasted like there was no tomorrow and you closed your eyes with the knowledge you were going to have as many tomorrows with this man as you wanted.

When you came it was with the cry of his name on your lips. He crawled up off the floor to settle on the futon beside you, scooping you onto his lap and hugging you close to help steady you.

He placed kisses on your forehead and spoke words into the consciousness you struggled to maintain as your chest heaved. "Shh, I got you. You're good. So good. So beautiful."

"Walter, that was..., jesus..., fuck...," you stammered, barely able to control your thoughts and you wished you could have sunk into the ground below you when you heard the next words out of your mouth. "Did Sy give you pointers?"

Walter's immediate laugh was hearty and heartwarming, dispelling the thoughts you had that you deserved to be tossed across the room for even daring to bring it up.

"I've always known clients prefer him for that over any of the rest of us. I took him out for beers one night and I may have begged for a trick or five. Sy's a good guy and he thought you deserved it, though I'm sure he never would have agreed if he thought I was coming back to the hotel." Walt bent to capture your lips and when he was done kissing you hard and deep, he spoke again. "I do, too. Think you deserve it."

"What about you?" you asked, aware now of a hardness pressing against your flesh through his pants. "Don't you deserve more, too?"

You wiggled off his lap and stood, hand out to urge him up. You swallowed hard as he towered over you, eyes full of desire and lust.

"I deserve whatever you're willing to give me."

"I'll give you everything, Walt," you admitted, fingers already working the buckle of his belt and buttons of his pants.

His lips crashed to yours as soon as he tossed his sweater to the floor and he held you entranced with his tongue even after you dropped his jeans down his legs along with his boxers. It was just a low growl but the sound from the back of his throat was enough to send a wave of slick down your thigh as you clenched around the space where you most desired him to be.

"Fuck, Walter," you gasped into his mouth and begged. "Fuck me, please."

It was a mad dash to remove his boots so he could discard his pants, though not before he grabbed the made-just-for-him condoms from the pocket, and then unfold the futon for a larger surface area on which he could move you around and manipulate your passion. It was no plush cabin bed, but it would have to do.

"Fuck, I wanted this outside tonight," he admitted, staring at you as he rutted into your core with abandon. 

"It's a full moon tonight," you noted, as if he wouldn’t already know that.

"I still wanna fuck you under it," he growled, staring deep into your eyes.

You were losing control, falling up through space and time as you felt every inch of him against every inch of you and it still wasn't enough. You couldn't stop your eyes from closing as you begged him for more.

"Hey," he called, lifting your leg around his waist and when you opened your eyes you saw him smile as you wrapped your other leg the same way without prodding from him. You were mesmerized by the motion of his hips and barely caught the glint, a hint of change to amber, but you did.

“No!” He stilled immediately but you held on as he tried to withdraw from you. “No, stay with me, here just like this. We can do that again, later, whenever. Just,” you drew a hand to cup his face, “please. Like this. Like you. Just you.” You kissed him deep and rolled your hips to spur him on again.

You were prepared to feel less full, less fucked, though not by much, with Walter in human form. You were not prepared for the way he fucked you to feel just as animalistic as the monster. His assault was merciless, even as he grunted in your ear all the ways he was going to make you his. How he planned to take you softly in the moonlight so you’d know it didn’t matter what form he was in, you could have him any way you wanted. 

When you finally came apart for him, he let loose with a loud growl and you were sure your neighbors were gonna call the landlord any minute. He hurried back to your side after disposing of the spent condom, curling around you and melting you in his warmth.

“Do you have anywhere you need to be?” he asked. “I still wanna take you to dinner, but I’d love to just stay here with you for awhile. If that’s okay?”

You were about to answer him, but your returning senses also meant you could hear the buzzing vibrations of notifications on your phone. Shit!

“Uh, no. I don’t have to be anywhere. Maybe you could grab that bag you left outside and we can see what else I can scrounge up for us to eat right now?”

You grabbed your phone as he peeled open the door, careful to tuck himself behind it as he grabbed for the food, lest a neighbor get a view they didn’t pay for.

sendmeanangel: okay look. He’s here. Right now. Can’t talk. All good. MMNstrluvr: MEANA!!! darkgothnightengale: GIRL YOU BETTER SPILL SOON!

You found some chips and salsa and split your sandwich with Walt, not that it looked like nearly enough food to tide him over till dinner. But he didn’t seem to mind. The next few hours flew by as you both sought to learn as much about each other as you could as soon as possible.

He explained that the special skill he had only worked within the confines of a vortex, over which the hotel had been built. It’s why he couldn’t bend time to allow him to study and work and wonder about you without losing sleep somewhere along the way.

After a shower, and some shower head, and then another shower, Walter asked if he could take you somewhere special for dinner. Somewhere not in town. He let you send GPS coordinates to your online friends with the promise they wouldn’t send you any details of the location. He wanted it to be a surprise for you. They were only to use it if you didn’t check in after dinner and again in the morning and once more when you were back at your apartment.

The sun was just sinking low with a burst of evening color when Walt pulled up to the lakeside cabin. He helped you out of his truck, then grabbed your overnight bags and the groceries from the backseat. You couldn’t wait to see the place in the full daylight, but you could already tell it was magical. 

An a-frame cabin with large windows faced the lake. An oversized wooden deck made up a large seating area and all around landing pad in front of the entrance. A set of side steps allowed access from the driveway, but along the full length of the deck three stairs led to a narrower mulched path that in turn led to a wooden dock out onto the lake. A seating area was visible there as well, though there were no chairs.

Walt let you in first, then followed and set the bags down before closing the door.

He must have noticed you still admiring the sunset out the windows.

"I can make it last."

You blinked and turned, curious about what he'd just offered.

"Are we in a vortex then?"

"Yes, I got lucky finding this spot. Don't own the place, yet, so I can't come out whenever I want, but I made sure tonight was free."

"And, I mean, no. It's beautiful but I'm really looking forward to the moon. Can you make that last?"

He bit his lip and nodded, letting a smile and glance drift to the floor, shaking his head as if he still couldn't believe his luck.

"Yeah, I definitely can," he grinned at you before sweeping you into his arms. He kissed you hard and deep and you could feel the way he held back.

"Don't," you said, pulling away from the kiss so you could look him in the eye.

"Don't make it last?" he asked, confusion furrowing his brow.

"Don't hold back."

He did not. Every ounce of your clothing was on the floor next to his in what felt like a heartbeat. He was pawing at every inch of your body and you were enjoying it, the way he caressed you, held you, molded you to his form.

"Outside?"

"Won't matter," he huffed between kisses. "She's not up yet. Later. After dinner."

"Will you do it anyway?" you asked, and nodded earnestly when he asked if you were sure.

He again didn't waste a moment. One second he was Walter, the next he was the wolf and he was at your throat. Then down your body, then between your legs.

He made you come on his tongue at least three times before he presented his enormously hard member to you and helped you work your mouth around the tip.

You wanted so much more. You gave it your best shot. But he was huge. Larger than you recalled. When it was clear you'd need your hand to cover him completely, he licked your palms and wrapped your fingers around his length.

He pulled you off just as you finally found the right rhythm, the right pressure, the right speed.

"You're gonna make me come," he growled.

"Kinda the point, Walt," you grinned up at him. "C'mon, lemme..."

"You asked me not to hold back. Sorta assumed you meant the fucking."

"I meant don't..." you licked your lips. "Hold..." then your hand. "Back..." And with that, you took him back into your mouth and kept working him to climax.

You swallowed him down and glanced up, marveling at the way he shifted. The hair receded, though clearly not completely. The nose shortened, teeth shrunk, though a fang still peeked from his mouth as he panted for air. His stature gave back the extra inches balancing on the balls of his feet gained him. And with claws retracted back into his normally large hands, he reached to bring you to his feet before him.

After the kiss, you admitted, "I just figured the faster we finish dinner, the faster we can get to her."

His laugh never failed to make you feel safe and at home.

"That isn't how the moon rise works, but I appreciate the initiative."

She was just at the horizon of the mountain crest behind the cabin when Walt cleared the plates from the table. You started a quick, warm shower just to freshen up and welcomed him into your arms when he joined you.

Then he dried you off, handed you a flannel of his to wear, escorted you outside where he shifted on the way down the steps and led you to the end of the dock. You sat between his legs, back against his chest, and let the heat radiating from him keep you warm. You smelled the chill in the air you knew would lead to frost soon, but not tonight, not tomorrow.

She peered over the tree tops and cast her gaze upon you. You felt her power and you felt his power and you arched against him as he moved his hand between your legs. He nuzzled down your neck, nipped at your shoulder, and carefully, with precision, made you come on his hand.

As you recovered, you unbuttoned the shirt, slipped it off your body, and laid it down behind you. You made your way to your back, letting the flannel shield your bare skin from the hard wood planks. And you pulled him to you, urged him inside you, and held him close. Your bodies moved in tandem as she shone brightly across the gentle rippling of the water, her reflection casting you in her glow.

Walt didn't lie about taking you gently. It was like nothing you ever imagined being with a wolf would be like. As sensual as any touch any man or monster had ever given you, and given your recent adventures, that was saying a lot.

But you could tell he was still holding back.

"I get it Walt," you whispered in his ear. "This doesn't have to be the way you say it though." You smoothed the fur along his face as he pulled back to watch your face. "Don't hold back."

With a snarl, he did as you bid, taking you apart as he had back at your place just mere hours ago. Though once the moon reached her peak, you could tell he'd halted time and it was gonna have to be you to beg him for mercy, plead with him to stop treating you to the most intense, overpowering yet intimate orgasms you'd ever felt. You had to urge him to finally come and let the moon fall how she wanted.

"I love you, too," you whispered to him as he collapsed beside you.

Bonus Edit: Absolutely GORGEOUS header created for me by my wonderful friend in fic, @geralts-yenn:

Everything HC Taglist: (as always, let me know if you want on or off)

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#walter marshall #walter marshall fanfiction #walter marshall x reader #walter marshall fanfic #werewolf!walter #werewolf!walter marshall #werewolf!walter x reader #werewolf!walter marshall x reader #spoopy season #back to reality #fantasy hotel #mine #deandoesthingstome

[bau-drabbles]

hi lia! i don’t know if you write for spencer but i was wondering how he would unpack the trauma after the prison. he struggled so much with his image and i imagine it would be hard for him to see himself how he used to and how the reader could even love him 🥺❣️

i do write for him, love. thank you so much for asking, this is very rushed but it was so so sweet <3 😙

spencer was standing in front of the mirror, currently struggling to compose himself. his cheeks were sucked in as he analysed every single thing about himself. the hollowness of his face, the dark eye bags, the unruly hair, he wasn't sleeping as well these past couple nights. prison had thrown him for a whirlwind he didn't think he'd ever recover from, cat addams had scarred him more deeply than he ever could've anticipated. she had done the one thing that broke him, made him see himself for who he was.

a monster, a killer.

she had ruined him. he didn't know who he was, it felt like he woke up in the body of a stranger. and every day he was trying to find his purpose but it became lost in the hurricane of his thoughts. each one a dagger to his heart, questioning his morals and his sincerity as a person. all he could think about was how horrible he was, how much you deserved a better partner. one that could provide you with all the things he couldn't. how could you love such a horrible person?

under the weight of all these thoughts and his shame, his knees collapsed to the floor. his brows creased with a frown unable to stop his mind, his tears tracking down his cheeks rapidly. you entered the room in shock, seeing your partner a shell of the person he used to be. and it ached your heart, knowing that you couldn't help relieve this infliction.

"hey, are you oka?-" you began but he cut you off shaking his head. his face was covered, with embarrassment or anger you didn't know.

"i'm-i'm fine, just fine" he dismisses you but you don't listen, coming closer.

"i told you i'm fine!" he snaps and you look at him, seeing nothing but a broken little boy clinging to the pieces to try to make himself whole again. to try to make some sense of the chaos all around him. and it pained you that he couldn't let you in.

"i'm sorry, i didn't mean to shout i.... she's right. cat. just look me y/n...." the words have failed him and he wipes his eyes but the tears have their own mind. slowly he felt himself spiralling down the rabbit hole he forbade himself from entering. cat had done so much damage than he cared to let on, he thought he was strong enough to handle it. he should have been. hotch had been giving lingering looks all day like he knew something as wrong but he didn't say anything, morgan and jj were trying to get him to speak but he refused. he was fine, he had to be fine. he wasn't going to let cat win this round. he wasn't going to let cat have the last laugh, he was better than that. he'd rise to her challenge and beat her at her own game.

but the niggling voice of doubt constantly berated him, every move was flooded with doubt. every decision had him questioning whether it was the right one. he woke up in cold sweats constantly plagued by the horrific abuse in prison, he didn't think there was ever going to be an end to this misery.

and then there was you, his beautiful partner. you deserved more than he could've ever give you, you deserved to be with someone that wasn't as broken as he was. and he didn't want to but maybe it was easier letting you go, though even that thought was enough to make him unravel.

"you are so beautiful to me, do you know that?" your voice shakes him put of his poisonous thoughts and he looks at you agape, as if you had said the most preposterous thing on earth.

but you gingerly sit beside him, brushing a few stray curls away from his forehead. taking his bigger warm hands between your own, you look at the man who has your heart wrapped around his finger and he didn't even know

"i'm.... what?" his own words are so soft, he didn't even think you had heart. the blood roared over his ears, his heart thundering beneath his chest he feared it would rip through the skin. your heart breaks when you see how much pain he's carrying, his eyes full with his anguish. you gently wipe them away, holding his stubbled face between your warm hands. tracing his skin with the pads of your thumbs, tilting his jaw so he was eye to eye with you.

"you are perfect to me, spencer. i love you, more than you think. more than i even know. you didn't deserve anything that happened to you but baby, you don't have to go though it alone. let me in, please" with a gentle press of your lips against his forehead, he holds you close against his chest. his frame shakes with the sobs he's trying but failing to reel back.

you hold him tight, kissing his head, hoping that he could feel the outpouring love you held only for him. that no matter what, cat would never win this round. you'd help spencer overcome this battle, side by side until he was okay again. it wasn't going to be easy but it didn't matter, you loved this man more than words could ever describe.

he deserved a life full of peace and happiness and you'd do anything to make that a reality

#asks #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader angst

[charliedawn]

Hi! What would Slashers do If their child/teenager daughter go to a Coma by a accident or somebody and what would be their reaction as well? ( She's in coma for a week or a month)

Jack fell into self-loathing at the sight of you on that hospital bed and kissed your forehead lovingly before holding your hand.

"Y/N...I couldn't protect you. I can't protect anyone..I don't know why I thought this time would be any different.."

He already lost a child because he wasn't there and would blame himself for your accident.

He should have been more careful and not make the same mistake twice.

He had hesitated to be part of your life because he knew it would end in pain for the both of you. He just thought this time would be different, even though life had proved him many times over that he wasn't meant to be a father—he had decided to be stubborn and raise you.

He should have listened to his gut.

It would have spared you both.

He would then find comfort in his old habits and drink himself to sleep, numb his feelings...

Or, lose his chill and be angry at himself and at the world, spacing in your hospital room like a mad man.

"I FUCKIN' MESSED UP ! AGAIN ! HOW MANY TIMES UNTIL YOU GET IT, JACK ?! YOU AIN'T DADDY MATERIAL !"

He looked down at you and for a second, he found himself loathing you...Not because he didn't love you. Heck. He would give up his whole existence for you...But, because you made him think of the one thing he had done right and couldn't protect.

He couldn't look at you without being reminded that it was his fault.

He sobbed above your bed and even though he reeked alcool and was a complete mess, your unconscious still held his hand and smiled.

"...You aren't perfect, but I wouldn't ask for any other dad."

And as if he could hear you, he suddenly stopped crying and looked around, as if feeling your energy in the room.

He froze for a second or two before uttering your name.

"Y/N..."

Jack is stuck on earth, but he is still part spirit. He died and came back to life, so he would be able to sense you.

He would then try everything to reach you and bring you back, because Jack Torrance ain't no quitter.

Arthur was in the middle of a business deal when he got a phone call from the hospital about you.

He barely managed to catch the essential.

A car accident. You. Hospital.

He suddenly quit everything to rush to the hospital, cursing Batman for not being there the day you needed him and praying whichever god would listen to him that you would be alright.

When he arrived, he ignored the scared nurses who scurried off his path as he went into your room—not caring that someone may call the authorities on him.

He almost killed a doctor to get his answer on what room you were in.

He ran in and when he saw you laid down on the hospital bed, he stopped dead in his tracks and his breath hitched.

He almost failed to notice Batman next to you—waiting.

He wondered if he would let him see you before dragging him out and throwing him back into Arkham ? But, Batman only grabbed his arm and grimaced at the sight of his runny make-up before wiping his face with a piece of cloth.

"Don't let your child see the monster.."

There was an ironic gentleness in his gesture and Arthur decided to let him. He was right. You deserved his relationship face.

Once finished, Batman took a step back and Arthur approached the bed before holding your hands.

"I wish I could have been stronger for them.", he confessed to Batman who didn't answer.

They both wished they could have been fast enough. Strong enough.

Arthur never told you he was the Joker.

He thought it would be enough to keep you away from who he really was.

He never admitted to you his inner darkness, even though he suspected you to have always known deep down.

"...You did something right with that one."

Batman finally said and Arthur chuckled humorlessly.

Two bad fathers at the death bed of their only good achievement.

It could almost make him cry..

Michael read to you every night.

He couldn't do it when you were conscious, because he thought Myers would wake up.

But, he could now that you were almost dead���a thought that left him incredibly depressed.

He sat by your side and worriedly stared at you and glared at whoever would touch you in his presence or try to drag him out.

He had insisted on staying, and even though they had repeated multiple times that it wouldn't do any good for him to do so, he wouldn't listen.

He just knew he had to stay.

He had taken care of the drunk driver who had 'not seen you' and after that, he had only wanted to stay by your side.

He blamed himself for letting you go alone to school that morning.

He felt guilty and sorrowful as he looked at your sleeping face.

He had succeeded in letting the only real good thing in his life slip away from him and the sole notion of losing you was simply excruciating to him.

When one of the nurses came in and saw him, she stopped dead in her tracks and sighed.

"You're not going to help them by staying here, you know ?"

He looked up at her with such sad eyes that the nurse's expression itself softened. It was terribly difficult for someone to be on the verge of losing their child and she understood.

"...Fine. I'll bring you a blanket.", she finally indulged and turned around to leave.

The moment she was gone, he leant forward towards you and rested his forehead upon yourself before whispering.

"Please...Come back."

Michael spoke and Myers squeezed your hand gently.

For once, they both agreed.

Now, Freddy had a very intense reaction to the news, he didn't want to believe it.

He didn't cry.

He didn't yell.

He didn't even blink.

"...You better come back, ya hear me, ya little brat ? Ain't no way you go and leave me here on my own with all those crazy people."

He only laughed.

He thought it was another one of your pranks when he got the phone call, but then he realized that he couldn't enter your head. At all. It was as if your whole brain had shut down on him.

It left him dumbfounded. He didn't understand. His eyes widened and for once, Freddy was speechless.

He then knelt beside you and whispered to your sleeping form.

He laughed to himself and hoped his bad joke would wake you up and you would scold him or laugh with him, but you didn't.

You were still alive, as your chest was still heaving with the rhythm of your heartbeat, but your spirit was gone.

He gently tugged a loose strand/curl of your hair behind your ear and when he was sure you couldn't hear him, he started crying.

"Please, brat...Don't leave me.", he pleaded.

He squeezed your hand and lowered the tip of his hat so he may hide his tears from you.

Freddy may act tough and uncaring, but he would burn the world for you.

He didn't say a word afterwards and he didn't see where your spectral form took his hand.

"...I'm not leaving, dad. I promise."

He refused to eat, drink or sleep.

Jason stayed impassive on the outside.

But, every decision he took showed his inner turmoil.

He wouldn't rest until he was sure you would be alright.

He had followed nurses and doctors around until someone had finally cracked and told him where your room was.

He had stormed in and almost tear all the doctors off you to see you and check that you were still breathing.

The doctors had had to explain to Jason that they were doing their best to help you before he had finally allowed them to resume.

Jason had then sat patiently down on a chair, far away from you as not to infect you with his bad luck.

He was sure it was the reason for your accident.

Jason had never been lucky in life and it was the reason for his natural clumsiness.

He just didn't think it would be past down to you.

He watched silently as the doctors plugged you to the machines he didn't understand and wrote down things he couldn't read.

It was strange to him.

Him who had never had to come to an hospital before—unless it was to finish off one of his victims.

He then looked at you and even though Jason wasn't one to cry easily, he couldn't help the few tears from falling down his cheeks.

It wasn't fair.

He needed you.

They couldn't take you.

He tentatively approached the bed and took your limp hand into his shaking one.

He couldn't just hit, crush or slay his way out of this one.

He didn't know what to do—and it scared him more than anything..

Penny simply lost his smile.

He didn't even need a phone call.

He knew instantly that something bad had happened to you and was by your side in a heartbeat.

He was the one who brought you to the hospital and he looked so lost and panicked that even the nurses knew something was definitely wrong.

He didn't want to let you go, but at the same time knew he had to let them fix you somehow..

The problem with Penny is...He isn't human.

Once he finally released you, they immediately started testing and tried to figure out what was wrong with you.

He wouldn't be able to understand what is going on with you and would need other people to help...Human people.

Him who had never needed human help before in his life had to hand over his most precious creature to them.

But, he didn't have a choice.

When they knew you had fallen into a deep coma from which they weren't even sure you would ever wake up from, the doctor in charge feared for his life as he announced it to Penny.

His eyes simply lost their light and he asked them all to leave—which they promptly did.

But, Penny didn't react as expected.

He didn't scream or tear them to pieces.

Once you were alone, he approached the bed and confessed.

"I'm sorry..I do not know how to help you. I'm lost. I wish I could understand. But, you and I are not the same. I do not breathe. I do not have blood in my veins and I don't even technically have a brain. They tell me you're in a deep sleep, like me...But, you might never wake up. And, I do not understand. I'm sorry and I...*a few tears ran down his face*...I love you."

Penny had never been so serious and it brought tears to your eyes as you tried to embrace him, but fell right through him.

"PAPA ! PAPA, I'M HERE ! I LOVE YOU TOO !"

You desperately tried to reach for him, but couldn't touch him. He was miles away and you could only watch as Penny held your body close to him.

Penny was then painfully reminded of your mortality, and you knew it would never be the same ever again..

Sadako had immediately felt your departure from your body and even though your body was still functional, your spirit had gone to another existential plane.

She had to bring you back.

"Ancestors..Hear my prayers. Give me the power over life and death. Give me strength to reach beyond the unknown and bring my child back..."

Sadako possesses a link with the spirits. She is neither alive or dead. And she would use everything in her power to wake you up, even deal her own soul.

She plunged her hand into this gap only the neither-dead-or-alive could reach and screamed as her skin burnt.

This place wasn't for evil spirits.

But, she kept going until she heard your voice.

"MOM !", you cried out as a vivid light seemed to surround you both .

You didn't want her to do get hurt and ran to her, but were restrained by forces beyond your control.

They kept you there and you looked up at your mother as she screamed in pain.

"MOM !", you cried once more and this time, she heard you.

Her eyes settled on you and it gave her strength to save you.

She screamed so loud that the other spirits had no choice but to met you go. You finally succeeded in getting free and didn't hesitate before jumping into her arms.

You both fell back and suddenly, you were back in the hospital room.

You smiled, but your smile immediately fell when you saw the state your mother was in. Her skin was dark with burnt marks and she could barely breathe.

You fell to the floor beside her and cradled her face lovingly before screaming.

"HELP ! HELP !"

A soul for a soul. She had stepped into the light and the sight alone had rendered her blind. Her punishment for fighting Nature.

But, she would gladly do it again to save you.

The worst part about being your brother was...When Morgan saw you being rolled in his department on a stretcher, he froze. He never froze.

It wasn't in his nature.

He was the calm and collected brother who never panicked, never wavered.

But, seeing you like this, realizing you were mortal and could die at any moment..It shocked him. It even made him angry.

He thought you were like them. He thought you would never get hurt or die.

He didn't say to his colleagues that he knew you. He took care of your wounds and carefully settled you in one of the room in perfect silent.

So, just the sight of you covered in bruises and scars made him realize...You would never be the same.

And, it hurt him more than anything.

He didn't say a thing, not until nobody else but the two of you were in the room.

He then looked down at you with an unreadable expression and his jaw twitched at your peaceful face.

How could you remain asleep ? How dared you make a fool out of him and not be there to take the blame ?

He leant forward and grabbed your shoulder tightly before whispering in your ear.

"I forbid you to leave me, Y/N. Do you hear me ? I know you can hear me...You better come back. I won't allow you to leave me. They might think you have no power over it, but I know you do. So, hear my words very carefully. Wake up. Wake up now. We aren't done. Fight. Keep fighting.."

After a moment, he then added.

"Because, I won't allow you to be the first person I wasn't able to save."

He had never lost a patient, he wouldn't start now.

Not here. Not now. And especially not you.

They all stayed silent and wanted to let Morgan finish his private conversation with you.

He refused to lose you and would make sure to make you wake up and face him.

You wouldn't get off the hook so easily.

He didn't hear the rest of the family come in until they were all in the room.

But, he wordlessly stood up and left.

He had said everything he needed to say to you.

He wouldn't let you leave.

You were the light of this family, and he refused to let your light vanish.

He would find a way.

He would...

Morgan fell to his knees the moment he was out of the hospital and clenched his teeth before screaming.

"DAMN IT !"

...The whole hospital heard his scream, but by the time anyone could walk out, he was already gone..

#child reader #fandoms #imagine #fanfic #slashers x child!reader #slashers au #Penny x child!reader #pennywise 2017 #michael myers x daughter!reader #Morgan Hannibal x sister!reader #Sadako x child!reader #Jason x child!reader #Freddy krueger x child!reader #Arthur Fleck x child!reader #Jack Torrance x child!reader

[ownedbyfictionalwomen]

me & you

bucky barnes x fem!reader drabble

you meet bucky in wakanda after months apart. angsty + fluffy. 657 words.

Wakanda was a home away from home for you. After being recruited as a part of their outreach program in high school, you spent years living within the walls of the palace with your best friend, Shuri. 

Running riot in the vibranium corridors, training with the Dora Milaje and building weapon after weapon in the lab. Thanks to this country, your mind and body had been sculpted into something you were proud of. 

That’s why visiting was always bittersweet. 

A large part of you wanted to stay and relive your happiness underneath the shield, whilst a larger part of you knew that you had to keep searching for Bucky. Your lover had been lost for months, and it felt like you had searched every square inch of the earth and he was still nowhere to be found.

The two of you met during the Civil War when you were interning at the Stark Tower and freshly back in the US. Tony had been so impressed with you that he asked for your help tweaking a new suit of his and of course you immediately jumped at the chance to work with your boss, leading to you quickly becoming a part of his team. 

But you switched sides when you met Bucky, yearning to be near him and be the rock that he needed. 

“That’s new.” You said to Shuri as you walked the kingdom’s land with her, just like old times. There was a round orange hut standing in the back corner of the field, goats grazing around the tree that grew next to it. You remembered running in this pasture with Shuri when you were younger, teenagers but acting like children, playing with the kids from the surrounding tribes.

“Yes. Well, we needed somewhere to house The White Wolf,” Shuri replied, smiling at a family that passed behind you both. The who?

Just as you were about to ask what she meant, a man emerged from the door of the hut, dressed in a traditional robe you saw many of the other locals wearing. You squinted at the figure in the distance, noting the shoulder-length brown hair and the… black vibranium arm. 

“I just wanted to come and see how my new invention is working out for him,” Shuri explained, but you had already taken off towards him, sprinting as fast as you could.

“Bucky!”

His head snapped up at the sound of your voice, he would recognise it anywhere, and watched you slowly come to a stop in front of him. 

“Hi, doll.” He whispered as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, squeezing him as hard as was humanly possible.

“Where the hell have you been?” You asked, raising your voice and stepping away to shove at his chest, “I’ve been worried sick looking for you.”

“I know, baby. But you have to understand… I didn’t want to hurt you.” He said, thinking about all the times he had those nightmares- being the Winter Soldier again and causing you pain that no one deserved. The last thing he would ever want to do is lay his hands on you.

“You could never hurt me, my love. I wouldn’t let you.” You giggled as your sadness quickly dissipated at the sight of him, remembering all the times you’d beat Bucky when you sparred together. Sometimes, he forgot you were trained by Wakanda’s strongest warriors. 

“I couldn’t risk it, doll.” He said, tears forming at the corners of his eyes that you immediately wiped away, hating to see any negative emotion on his face.

“I’m gonna help you, baby. Me and you… we’re gonna get through this together. This place can heal you.” You whispered against his lips. And you were telling the truth- the Wakandan air had cleared your mind of the monsters you carried more times than you could count. 

“Me and you, doll.” He repeated, sealing your lips together in a gentle kiss.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x female reader

[beantothemax]

Alfyn stared at his bloodstained clothes, at the bloodied axe- at the mangled body in front of him.

He wanted to cry. No, he wanted to scream. He wanted to fall to his knees and pound the earth with his fists and scream until his throat felt shredded and his eyes stung.

But instead, he dropped his axe and knelt in front of Tim, getting his medicines out. There was no time to take him back to the village- the kid needed help ASAP.

Several gruelling hours passed, and Tim was in stable condition. He sighed, wanted to bawl at the sight of more blood on his hands. But instead, he simply got to his feet, and delicately picked the child up. He could easily say that all the blood was from saving him, instead of just some.

Wordlessly, all of them- Therion, H'aanit, Ophilia and himself- trudged out of the woods. Normally, Alfyn would be one of the first to throw himself at the monster who attacked them, but this time he stayed in the back, let H'aanit and Therion take them out. He felt horrible about it, but he knew they understood.

Despite what he’d done, Therion still stayed with him. Still lingered slightly behind him, still occasionally shot glances at him when he thought Alfyn wasn’t looking. It was almost easy to pretend, with Therion acting like he normally did, that everything was okay. That the blood on his clothes was from Tim. No one else.

What caught him by surprise was looking over and seeing Therion silently cleaning the blood off his axe with an old cloth. Still wordless, he made his way to Alfyn’s side- his other side- and hooked his axe again, before returning to his position beside Alfyn.

They returned to town, Alfyn got Tim back to his mother, and they were rewarded handsomely for it- much to everyone’s surprise. They weren’t ones to deny it, though, so Ophilia graciously took the coin pouch and gave it to Alfyn, who tucked it into his satchel.

When they returned to the inn, Alfyn silently washed himself up. Scrubbed the blood off so hard a bit of new blood came up- his own. That he could accept. He could handle the sight of his own blood dirtying his hands, he had dealt with it his whole life, working back in Clearbrook.

He changed into clean linen clothes, and slid under the blankets on his bed. Therion was still lingering by the door, though he too had changed. Alfyn gave him a grin, hoping it concealed what was really on his mind. “You can leave if ya want. I ain’t going anywhere.”

Therion scowled, and marched up to him. Alfyn sat up.

“Why? Why won’t you let yourself just feel emotions!? Don’t you dare say you don’t deserve to, either, because if anyone deserves to cry right now, it’s you.”

Alfyn was caught off guard by the sudden outburst, and as if on cue, he felt the tears he’d been suppressing for so long spring up. He hastily made to wipe them away, but Therion caught his wrist. The expression on his face was oddly vulnerable, if not conflicted. “Don’t,” he whispered. “Don’t try to hide it. It won’t help.”

Alfyn trembled, and maybe Therion could tell- because he climbed up onto his bed. After a moment’s hesitation, he embraced Alfyn.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry that it had to come to that. ...But you are not a bad person. He gave you no choice. You had no choice, Alfyn.”

Alfyn sobbed, clinging to Therion. There was something comforting about his presence. “...Let me ask you something,” Therion spoke again.

“If you could, would you do it again?” “What do you mean?” Alfyn looked at him.

“I mean, if you had the choice between helping Miguel and killing him, would you kill him again?” Alfyn sucked in a breath. “Of course not. I would help him, get him to move so I could heal the kid, talk to him and see why- ...Why he did everything he did....”

“Then you’re not a bad person. You’re a good person, Alfyn. One of the best I know. You saved me- a random stranger on the side of the road, bleeding out and dying. And you want to tell me you’re a bad person? You help everyone you meet and you think you’re a bad person?”

Alfyn chuckled weakly, tears still falling. “Y-you’re right...” He mumbled.

Therion pressed their foreheads together. “I’m not telling you not to cry, or not to be affected by this. Crying is- is good for you. A healthy way to let out your emotions. But never, ever think that you’re a bad person because somebody forced your hand. Okay?”

Alfyn nodded. He understood what Therion meant, and would hold his words close.

“Okay.”

MAV. MAV YOU CANT JUST HIT ME WITH THE MONUMENTAL FEELS THIS GAVE ME. THIS IS AMAZING. ALFYN NEEDED SOMEONE TO CRY WITH AND GODS DAMMIT YOU GAVE HIM SOMEONE. just. therion checking on alfyn on their walk back to make sure he’s ok….. ckeaning his axe…. and the talk they had.. the whole ‘would you do it again?’ ‘never’ ‘then you’re not a bad person’ thing… wah.

mav I mean this wholeheartedly this is absolutely amazing and the best inbox fic you’ve made yet

#asks #bewilderedgrace #fave #I am. putting this ask in my mouth and chewing it

[tailsrevane]

[movie review] godzilla vs. destoroyah (1995)

i managed not to cry as much this time. i’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

there are a lot of big picture things i like better about the shōwa era, principally the painting of godzilla with a more unambiguously heroic brush after his face turn. godzilla does have something of a face turn in the heisei era continuity in godzilla vs. mechagodzilla ii, but even in this film which definitively closes the book on the heisei era there are quite a lot of characters haven’t gotten the memo that he’s the good guy.

all of which is to say… despite some of my preferences lining up rather decisively in favor of the shōwa era, on average it really does seem like i prefer the actual films of the heisei era by a pretty wide margin. aside from spacegodzilla which is a awful (but not as bad as the worst shōwa era films), the heisei era movies are just so damn consistently awesome that it’s really hard not to look at them as a whole and think, “okay, damn, this is better.”

when i said this movie definitively closes the book on the heisei era of godzilla films, i mean it slams that book closed. godzilla is glowing with angry-red nuclear radiation from his first appearance. there’s genuine concern that he’s going to explode with a force greater than all the nuclear weapons on earth, which eventually gets downgraded to where he’s “merely” going to suffer a meltdown so severe that it could trigger the terrifying hypothetical that’s popularly known as “china syndrome,” whose effects might be functionally identical.

godzilla is clearly fighting through pain through the whole movie, and the incomparable ifukube akira expresses this with a much darker, weightier score that works to express his grim determination throughout the film.

godzilla’s own end is not the only ending here. miki and another psychic talk about the fact that their powers are fading, and the movie doesn’t provide a clear explanation for why that is, but it fits with everything else going on in the movie. we’re also told that godzilla’s own doom was brought about by some kind of disaster that destroyed infant island, the home of the goddess to his god(zilla), mothra.

if the studio was unwilling to go to the expense of including mothra in this concluding chapter–and i have to imagine that’s the only explanation for her absence–having godzilla’s fate linked to hers is at least something of a consolation. i do think that mothra deserves more than to have her island (and possibly herself) wiped off the face of the map offscreen before the movie started, but if you take this as read, godzilla’s final hours take on a quality even more evocative of a funeral dirge. every punch he throws, every supercharged atomic breath that bursts uncontrollably from him, has the strength of his grief and rage behind it.

and who should be godzilla’s opponent for this final, fateful chapter in this version of his story? destoroyah, the son of the oxygen destroyer. the dreadful weapon that killed the first godzilla in the original 1954 film. yeah, okay, the oxygen destroyer has always been a pretty silly concept, but marrying the weapon that ended the first movie on a somber note to godzilla’s final opponent is just such an inspired choice, and this movie really does make the most of it. footage from and dialogue references to the first movie are plentiful, and the whole thing acts to give some much-needed gravitas to godzilla’s last battle.

and what are they fighting over? the fate of the world? well, yeah, kinda. but instead of leaving it so abstract, the fate of godzilla’s world is given concrete shape in the form of his son, godzilla jr. and this is, by the way, the absolute best version of godzilla’s offspring in any movie ever. no question.

we see what kind of monster–in every sense of the word–destoroyah is through his wanton cruelty towards godzilla jr. he doesn’t just kill him, he plays with his food. he enjoys it. godzilla’s answering grief and righteous anger pushes his internal atomic meltdown over the edge. he blasts destoroyah with his most powerful heat ray yet, and though the clearly-beaten destoroyah tries to slink away, the fucking humans finally do something right by finishing him off.

and then everyone can only watch helplessly as godzilla distintegrates before their very eyes, and i have to say, i am still stunned by how good this looks and how emotionally evocative it is when combined with the soundtrack. it’s one of the most powerful moments of the entire series, and it’s just absolutely gutting to the audience and characters alike.

no one can save godzilla, but the humans do desperately unload all the cryo-weapons they have onto him to try to contain the meltdown as much as they can. they successfully avert the “china syndrome” event, but the radiation that’s released is enough to render tokyo uninhabitable.

but we’re not done. because while mothra might not be in this movie, she clearly taught her boy her most important trick. the cycle of resurrection. the radiation suddenly plummets. everyone is shocked by this impossible miracle, and as the smoke clears we see the resurrected godzilla jr roaring triumphantly.

the king is dead. long live the king. a-rank

#godzilla #godzilla vs destoroyah #kaiju #movie review #reviews #movies

[undertake101]

Lines/Script of Ember Kitsuri.

“I…I…”

“But…I’m the one that started all of this. I let the key get stolen. I left Raph because of my stupid plan. I got him turned into that…monster.” He’s hyperventilating now, fat hot tears rolling down his cheeks faster than Karai can wipe them away. “I let Mikey and Donnie become collateral damage in the tunnels. I almost got my brothers killed. I did get them killed in who knows how many timelines according to Case! They-they died for me! So-” He hiccups, his breaths stalling, embarrassingly, like a little kid…but Karai just looks at him with kindness. “So why shouldn’t I..die for them? I-I thought…that’s what a leader does right?”

you guys maybe find that Casey kid and bring him back too? He deserves to know he didn’t.

Casey needed to know he didn’t kill his sensei.

Even from where they’re standing on the sidewalk, they can hear the faint sounds of sobbing, deep and gut wrenching. It’s muffled by the sounds of emergency vehicles and the general noise of New York, but they can hear it all the same. It’s heartbreaking. Splinter and April take a moment to look at each other, understanding passing through their eyes, and then carefully make their way into the alleyway.

Casey has wedged himself half behind a dumpster, collapsed in on himself. He’s holding Leo’s katana in a vice grip, like he’s afraid if he lets go it will float away into the sky. His hands dig into the blades so hard, red runs along the polished metal, the sharp edge digging into the calloused flesh of his palms. With every shaking breath he chokes in, it comes out as an absolutely devastated sob, cracking and painful.

Consumed by grief as he is, he was still raised in an apocalypse, and as April’s shoe kicks a piece of glass, Casey’s bloodshot eyes are on her in a second, fear flashing behind his pupils. It takes him a split-second to identify the two of them, but the minute he does, he’s scrambling to his feet. “C-Commander O’Neil! Master Splinter! You..I-I’m…” His young face goes through so many emotions in seconds, looking first overjoyed, then fearful, then sorrowful, and finally ashamed. He swallows thickly.

“I-I’m sorry! I’m so sorry…” His face contorts itself in pain. “I…I couldn’t. I didn’t-”

“Oh kiddo…” April slowly, so he can turn away if he wants to, opens her arms and leans forward to envelop Casey in a hug. She can feel Splinter do the same to the kid’s legs.

“He’s gone again,” Casey hiccups, latching onto the two of them. “And…and it’s all my f-fault! I-I couldn’t save him!”

April leans back, gently smiling at Casey. She wishes she had a tissue to offer the kid with what a mess his face was. At least she had good news for him instead. “Casey…he’s ok.”

Casey furiously shakes his head, his mouth pressed into a firm frown as tears pour down his face. “N-no! I saw the portal close. I heard-”

“They got him back.” Splinter’s voice is soft, but firm. “I do not know how, yet. But he is with his brothers, here, on Earth.” He reaches up to pat Casey’s shoulder. “There is nothing to apologize for…”

Casey blinks, his brows furrowing in denial. “No I-”

April squeezes his shoulder. “Casey…he’s alive. We heard him. Raph told us. He’s not gone…”

Casey looks to her, shock evident on his face as his eyes search hers for any hint of a lie. Then, he looks to Splinter, who merely nods, confirming April’s words. And then, Casey falls apart. With shaking, stuttering wails, he begins to sob all over again. All April can do is hold the kid close until he lets it all out.

They might…be a while.

He leans in, squashing his face against Raph’s plastron as he sobs, and it’s all Raph can do to hold him close as he shakes. Raph quickly loses track of how long they’re sitting there, just listening to Mikey cry, finally coming down off of the adrenaline rush himself and letting himself be vulnerable in a way he couldn’t on a battlefield.

Once Mikey’s sobs quiet down into quiet sniffles and hiccups, Raph leans back. “Feel better…?”

Leo’s pupils shrink to pinpricks and the smile slides off of his face. “No…” His voice shakes. “No restraints…please…please no more.” His breaths start coming out uneven, and the heart monitor next to Donnie beeps frantically. “N-no…don’t-”

“Don’t…don’t hurt th-” Leo coughs in an attempt to clear his mouth of the blood building up from his shredded lungs and windpipe. Donnie doesn’t even register the hot spatter against his face, only Leo’s huge, unseeing eyes. “Don’t hurt them…not again…I can’t-I’m sorry…”

“I’m sorry…” Leo hiccups, more blood falling from his mouth to the bed, mixing with the tears to create a horribly sad combination of bodily fluids. “I’m sorry I let-” He coughs. “I let you die…I-”

Donnie’s brow furrows, confused. “Let who die?”

Leo’s voice comes out in a sob, his nails digging into his brother’s palm in anguish. “Y-you! Mikey…Raphie…they’re dead. You’re all dead and it’s all my fau-ul-t. I-...I’m sorry…Don, I’m sorry…I’m…sorry.”

“I…I dun wanna die alone. I dun wanna…S’my…fault…”

He doesn’t get an answer from his brother, but Leo does whimper pitifully, bottom lip quivering. Donnie is suddenly reminded of all the times Leo would crawl into his bed when they were kids.

A voice breaks the moment, echoing through the kitchen. “Where….where is Master Leonardo..?” Casey asks, shifting awkwardly, unsure. His posture is tense, not looking at any of them. His hands grab at his cape, balling up the fabric in hands that hold too tight, like he wants to join the hug but is unsure he’s welcome to. Mikey can see from Casey’s wide eyes that the kid doesn’t fully believe that Leo is alive. The deep circles under his eyes, and the way the whites surrounding his irises are an irritated pink are sure signs that he’d been crying recently. Mikey is suddenly struck with the fact that he and Casey are the same age…and despite all his fortitude and stubbornness, Casey looks so young . Too young.

Casey’s eyes dart to the door of the kitchen. Mikey’s sure all of them can read what Casey’s about to do before he even does it. Raph, for all his mass, is quicker, stepping back from the hug and catching Casey before he can run out into the lair. Casey starts fighting against Raph’s hold like a trapped animal. “N-no! I need to see him! I…I need to tell him I’m sorry! F-for everything I-”

“I-I-I need to know he’s ok! I..”

“I can help!” Casey renews his fight, kicking gently against Raph as the large turtle’s hand rests on the kid’s shoulder. “M-Master Leonardo taught me how! I can-”

Raph pulls the kid into a one-armed hug, resting his forehead on Casey’s head. “C’mon…calm down, it’s ok…he’s going to be ok…” Mikey sees Casey’s shoulders shake, but no sound comes from his mouth, all the fight leaking out of him.

“I…I told him he was a bad leader…that he couldn’t do it…it’s my fault.” Casey’s haunting words carry through the silence of the kitchen. “It’s all my fault…”

He didn’t blink through Casey trying to leave and subsequently breaking down again in Raph’s arms.

He reaches over with his uninjured arm to ruffle Casey’s hair a little. The kid leans into it.

The kid’s face crumbles into relieved tears. “Dad!” Casey doesn’t even seem to register what he’s said, running full tilt to the other side of Leo’s bed to bring Leo up into a hug as equally bone-crushing as Mikey’s had been. This time Leo is too stunned to complain. “I thought-I thought I lost you again and I didn’t know what to do It was all my fault and-” Casey starts to babble, hot tears pouring down his face into the fabric of Leo’s medical collar.

Casey sighs and sits back down now that the immediate crisis is past. He doesn’t let go of Leo’s hand, however. He bows his head, holding the hand up to his forehead. He almost looks like he’s in prayer. He looks tired…deeply tired.

Donnie huffs, reaching over to ruffle Casey’s hair. The kid leans into Donnie’s hand, clearly hungry for any kind of physical affection he can get. Hugs probably weren’t super common during the literal apocalypse even if he did have a supportive dad... Mikey makes a mental note to put Casey at the bottom of the turtle pile later. Raph makes an excellent weighted blanket.

ThevEnd.....

#dream of the endless

[kimmimaru]

Me, who has multiple WIP’s on the go: *starts a new fic Ok, so I have been writing. Needed something fresh so hopefully when I go back to my WIP’s I can do so with a clearer head. It’s a Cloud/Reno fic, thought I’d share a little bit of it. No Cloud/Reno yet but it feels pretty good so far. This fic is based on the OG and sort of, vaguely, set after Aerith’s death so Cloud’s losing his marbles. Not exactly canon compliant though I suppose.

XXX

“I think you’re making a mistake,” “How?” “He’s the enemy, we should-” “We should what? Just leave him here to die?” Reno hears the voices as he slowly swims up through the darkness of unconsciousness. Awareness seeps in with the consistency of tree sap. He shifts, fingers twitching as his eyes flutter open. He’s staring up at the sky, stars wheel above him, a few wispy little clouds drift past the big, bright moon. “I mean, he’d do the same to us, right?” The voices are close by, accompanied by the crackle of a fire. Reno hears someone snort, a man with a steady voice. A voice he recognises. “Would he?” Someone shifts, boots hit soft earth and Reno hears someone approach. Their movement is steady, firm. Reno snaps his eyes shut as a shadow falls across his face. “Would you leave us here to die, Reno?” A hand taps the side of his face, leather brushes his cheek. Reno sighs heavily and re-opens his eyes, “No getting anythin’ past you, huh, Strife?” Cloud’s intense blue eyes stare down at him, his head is cocked to one side. His clothes are dirty, blood stains his woollen top and his gloves have been charred. He lifts his free hand and wipes his wrist across his cheek, smearing soot, “How much did you hear?” “Oh just the stuff about you planning on leavin’ me here for the wolves.” Slowly, with great difficulty, Reno forces himself to sit up. Cloud’s hand drops away and he watches him. Someone sighs heavily nearby, more boots shift. Leaves rustle. “Leaving him here, whether he would do the same to us or not, would make us just as bad as the company he works for.” The voice makes Reno turn his head to see the orange form of a lion type creature stalking the edge of the firelight. It’s flaming tail flicks as their eyes meet across the clearing. Reno remembers him, he’s not sure if the creature has forgiven him for what he did yet. “Look, I’m all for letting Shinra lackeys get what they deserve but we don’t even know what happened here, guys.” That voice belongs to a small girl, it takes Reno a brief second before he realises it’s Wutai’s wayward princess. The girl puts her hands on her hips and fixes him with a glare. Reno’s half tempted to simply lie back down, his body throbs in pain. He checks his left hand, two of the fingers are twisted at a horrific angle. Reno can’t feel them. He looks away, takes a deep, shaking breath. “I was only here because…” He loses his voice and clears his throat to continue, “Because we were ordered to get rid of a nest of monsters. They’ve been killing the local villagers, yo. Rufus needs all the support he can get so here I am.” “And we can trust you, right?” That voice belongs to the infamous Barrett Wallace. Reno turns his head to see him sitting on a fallen log, shadows hiding in the sockets of his eyes. “Why would I lie about this?” Reno replies, “I’m on my own. You got the upper hand here.” “Yeah, that’s right.” Barrett lifts his gun arm, aiming it straight over the fire between them. “One false move, mother fucker.” He mimes blasting Reno’s head off. “Your fingers are broken,” Cloud notes, a chill in his voice that scares Reno a hell of a lot more than Barrett Wallace’s threats. “Yeah,” Reno swallows, unable to look at his mangled hand. “Cloud…” A woman emerges from the shadows of a nearby tree, she crouches beside Cloud and puts a hand on his upper arm. Cloud stares at Reno for a while before lowering his head, he laughs humourlessly and stands, running his hands through his dirty hair. “Do it.” He says and walks away. Tifa holds her hand out, fingers hovering over Reno’s. Their eyes meet as a gentle green light emanates from the materia in her gloves. Reno feels the bones shift, hears the snap as they’re forced back into place by the magic. He grunts, eyes snapping closed. She leans closer, “I’m not doing this for you.” She whispers and stands. Reno watches her walk away, orange light flashing from the metal on her gloves. “So,” Yuffie perches on a flat rock, crosses her legs and leans back on her hands, “What are gonna do with him?” She asks the air. Cloud runs a hand down his face, one hand on his hip as he stares out into the darkness. “Just tell me where I am, an’ I’ll find my own way home.” Reno suggests, hands rising, “I’m unarmed. Alone. I’m not a threat, yo.” Cloud doesn’t look back at him when he laughs, “Oh yeah?” “Yeah.” Reno frowns a little, “What, you think I’m here as some kinda trap? I’m not the kinda guy who’s gonna break my own fingers just for that, ok?” “Not a trap.” Wallace growls, turning to spit onto a mound of moss by the side of his log. “Not yet anyway.” Reno sighs, adjusting himself so he’s sat cross-legged, back against a tree. “Ok, what can I do to make you trust me?” Everyone glances at one another before Cloud speaks, “Nothing.” He says quietly. There’s silence for a while, Reno listens to the crackle of flames until Cloud speaks again, “Come first light we’ll lend you a phone so you can contact your people. Then we’re gone.” Reno shrugs, “Fair deal, Strife.” Cloud doesn’t look at him when he adjusts his sword on his back, his hand shakes a little, “I’m gonna go look around.” “Cloud-” Tifa half rises, as if to get up and follow. “Just…stay here.” Cloud waves her back down again, something in his eyes that makes ice slide into Reno’s stomach. He’s seen that look before on another face. Reno whistles, “He’s got some shit going on, huh?” He puts his hands behind his head and looks up at the stars. “It’s none of your damn business, Turk.” Reno grins across the clearing at Barett, “What pushed him over? Man was crazy to begin with, now he looks like he’s gonna blow any moment.” “Shut the hell up, asshole!” Barett rises but Tifa calms him with a touch. “Shit.” He slumps back down onto his log and picks up a stick, he pokes half-heartedly at the fire. The trees nearby rustle, tension ripples through the group until a shadow emerges from the tree line. A tall man dressed in a red cloak steps into the firelight, “Where’s Cloud?” He says in a deep voice. Reno frowns at him, he’s seen photos but never met him face to face. “He went for a walk.” Yuffie says, “Guess he needs some alone time.” “Don’t we all.” Another man groans, he stretches, “Hey, Vince, take a damn seat would’ya?” The man pats the ground beside him and Vincent stares at him for a while before doing as asked. “You see anything out there?” Vincent shrugs, “No.” “Guess that’s some good news then, right?” Reno remembers the guy’s name, Cid Highwind, ex Shinra pilot. He notes the polearm stuck in the ground beside him and remembers he knows how to use it. Cid has a stick in one hand, he puts the end into the fire until it catches then he brings it to the tip of his cigarette that dangles from his lips. He inhales and then tosses the stick back into the flames while he blows smoke from his nose like a dragon. Reno has half a mind to ask him to share. Instead, he sits with his hands in his lap, where everyone can see them. He tilts his head back and watches the stars.

[dont-touch-the-phlebotinum]

from within this gaping wound of ours

geralt/jaskier post S2 fix-it, cause i’m real emo about the bard, gang. 1.6K words, rated T. spoilers for season 2, obviously

Kaer Morhen was, slowly but surely, returning to its usual state. The monsters had been dragged down into the laboratory for study, the fallen witchers returned to the earth, and the damage done to the great hall was steadily being righted. There was still far more to do, but for now, it was time to rest.

The remaining wolves were in the hall, laughing and drinking like it was any other winter's evening in the keep, the sound following Geralt as he made his way through the corridors to check on Ciri before he turned in for the night. He paused at the sound of a quiet sniffle coming from the darkness of the hall to his left.

"Jaskier?"

Jaskier was stood alone in the shadows, leaning against the wall and peering into the great hall below. He didn't answer. As Geralt stepped closer he could see Jaskier's eyes were shining in the light spilling from the hall. The scent of shed tears was thick in the air.

"Why aren't you down there with the others?"

"It isn't meant for me," Jaskier said.

He hugged his arms to his chest and dropped his temple against the stone as he watched the others, and Geralt hung awkwardly a stride's length away from him. He wasn't sure he'd earned the right to step into Jaskier's space again yet.

There was still something off between them, as much as they both tried to act as if nothing had changed. If Geralt could sense it, no doubt Jaskier was well aware of it, too. They didn't get too close to one another; always remembering themselves and coming to a stop a respectable distance away; always moving as if to reach out, to touch, but thinking better of it. Geralt didn't know what to say to make it better.

Maybe all it needed was time. But the longer this strange holding pattern they were stuck in went on, the worse the ache in Geralt's chest grew.

An ache that Geralt had created himself. Because he'd been hurting, and Jaskier had been the one there to face the consequences. The pain caused by this distance between them now was the least Geralt deserved.

"If you don't want to stay here," Geralt said, even as the thought of Jaskier wanting to leave seemed to constrict his lungs, "I'll take you wherever you want to go."

"I don't have anywhere else to go."

Jaskier finally met his eyes then, a little laugh rattling his chest as he wiped at his wet cheeks.

"I'm being maudlin, sorry," he said. Lambert's shout rang out below, followed by a peal of raucous laughter from the others, and Jaskier smiled down at them, even as his eyes welled with tears again. "It's just hard, sometimes, watching everyone else surrounded by the people who love them – the people who give a shit when they're not there. And then there I am, just… on the periphery of it all. I don't have anyone."

You have me, Geralt wanted to say. But maybe that wasn't true anymore, after everything Geralt had done to drive this wedge between them. Maybe it had never been true in the first place. He'd give anything for Jaskier to believe it, though.

"You have people," said Geralt. "Everywhere you go, they always love you."

"They love the songs, Geralt. Nobody cares about the one playing them." He looked down at his hand. The burns were still an angry, painful-looking red. "And I can't even do that anymore."

"I'm so sorry, Jaskier."

Jaskier nodded. He curled his fist and lowered his hand back to his side, like if he could keep it tucked out of sight he wouldn't have to think about it. "I'd still do it again," he said. His mouth quirked in an attempt at a self-deprecating smile, but it didn't reach his eyes.

Geralt couldn't remember the last time he saw anything but sadness in them.

"You shouldn't have had to go through it at all."

Some part of him had always known it would go this way, though. Geralt's life was too fraught with violence for the people closest to him to pass through it unscathed. It was why he tried to keep Jaskier at a distance; why he'd buried his own feelings too far down to let himself be tempted to act on them, even when Jaskier would flirt and leave lingering touches and look at Geralt that way he did sometimes, like he was considering asking Geralt to join him for the night. And despite it all, Jaskier had still been hurt because of him.

Jaskier's gaze drifted back down to the rest of the wolves. Coen was by now slumped over the table and Vesemir had disappeared out of sight, but the others were still going strong. Jaskier should have been at the centre of it all; sharing every lewd song or story he knew; doing an impressive job of keeping up with the others as they drank into the night. He didn't belong up here, on his own in the darkness.

"I try so hard," said Jaskier, and he sounded so exhausted Geralt wondered how long he'd been fighting to keep all this in. He closed his eyes as more tears spilled down his cheeks.

Geralt's hand twitched with the urge to wipe them away. But he remained rooted in place, feeling as if his heart might break just from the pain in Jaskier's own.

"I don't need to be loved," he went on. "But is it really so much to ask just to be seen?"

Finally Geralt forced himself to take a step closer, but there was still too great a distance between them. He ached to reach out for Jaskier; to pull him into his arms and take back all the hurt he had caused.

"I see you," he said. He took a breath, preparing himself for what he knew he needed to say – what Jaskier needed to hear. "And I know it isn't the love you want, but you have mine."

Jaskier let out a tiny, bitter laugh. "Right," he said as he met Geralt's eyes, his own still shining. "For helping you save your child surprise."

Geralt opened his mouth to argue, but Jaskier was already pushing himself away from the wall and their conversation with a shake of his head.

"Goodnight, witcher."

His footsteps echoed off the stone as he walked away.

Geralt stared after him for a long, awful moment. He would have left it alone once; let Jaskier wander off to lick his wounds and in the morning it would be as if nothing had happened. He couldn't do it this time. He'd fucked things up too many times already.

He found Jaskier in his room, slumped down on the bed with a bottle clutched to his chest and a thoroughly miserable expression on his face. Geralt stayed in the doorway.

"It's not that," he said.

Jaskier looked back up at him, but he said nothing in response. Geralt took it as an invitation to keep talking.

"Sometimes I think you're the only one who's ever seen me, as well. Not as a witcher, or a monster, or a protector – as I am. As I could be."

Slowly, giving Jaskier ample opportunity to ask him to leave instead, Geralt stepped into the room and took a seat on the edge of the bed. Jaskier was still just watching him.

"The world's gone to shit, Jask," sighed Geralt. "I miss the days when the worst we had to deal with was bad backwater tavern ale and shit hunts for terrible pay."

He looked over to Jaskier with a smile, and to his relief Jaskier returned it.

"I miss you," Geralt went on. "I'm sorry that all I ever did was push you away."

Jaskier set his bottle aside and sat up so he could lean over his bent knees, and, his hand almost shaking, Geralt reached for him. He brushed Jaskier's hair out of his face to see him – to really see him; all his love and hurt and determination right there on his face. He'd never kept anything hidden. It was long past time for Geralt to do the same.

Their eyes were still fixed on one another as Geralt leant in. And when Jaskier didn't tell him to stop, he pressed his mouth to Jaskier's. The kiss was hesitant at first, barely a brush of lips, their bodies angled too awkwardly for it to be comfortable, but neither of them pulled away.

Jaskier was the one to deepen the kiss. He cupped Geralt's face in his hands, shifting forwards as Geralt wrapped his arms around Jaskier's back to keep him close; to never let him go again. Jaskier tasted of wine and loneliness and want, and Geralt kissed him like he might never get another chance. Even once the kiss had dwindled into occasional pecks and then to nothing, Jaskier's hands stayed on Geralt, his thumb brushing along Geralt's cheekbone as he rested his forehead against Geralt's.

"You deserve someone better than me," Geralt said into the breathless space between them. "You always have."

"I don't want anyone else, Geralt."

"I know."

They sat like that for a while afterwards; just breathing together; just holding each other, the silence old and familiar as it settled around them. They didn't need anything more right now. It was enough just to know. To hope.

Geralt had learnt how to be the guardian Ciri needed. He would fight just as hard to become everything Jaskier deserved as well.

#no sir definitely not projecting my own issues onto my comfort character #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #geraskier fic #the witcher fic #otp: fuck off bard #the witcher #the witcher spoilers #ficlet #my writing

[muffindaddystyles]

Will mafia!h and Y/N will have babies? 🥺💓

IM SO SORRY TO TELL YOU THIS BESTIE BUT.... </3

39. " I'm not saying a goodbye."

It was raining. Skies a gloomy shade of cinereal. Harry’s sleek car came to a screeching halt infront of the vast threshold of his home -- his grin pearlish, eyes twinkling a spark as he gets out of the car not caring to close the door behind. He greets his staff and strides two steps together with a gorgeous bunch of his lovie’s favourite flowers now dewy with raindrops and his nose twitched upon sniffing the vanilla-y smell while passing the kitchen and with his beam never vanishing he leaned into the doorframe asking the people inside, “’Ave y'seen Y/N?” Only for them to shake their heads in uncertainty.

She hasn’t showed herself downstairs since morning and even though it’s very odd of her not to chirp around the mansion nobody went to knock at her door to inquire, they think she deserves privacy.

This time they should have because when Harry barged inside their room it was caliginous with curtains shut and lights dimmed to zero.

“Lovie?” His cheery voice clamoured against the walls, a sour feeling he couldn’t be aware of pinches him in throat as he bobbed his head around to look for her and it perked up when a shadow falls on his feet.

“Baby?” His smile quirked back onto his confused features and he narrowed his eyelids to take in her presence through the darkness of wardrobe, “Harry.” A shaky whisper floated towards him and before that sweet call she was falling against his chest.

“Y/N ... baby —-,” His stumped chuckle halted, his brain numbed for a moment when his fingertips brushed up her back to push her closer to him and they trembled as they collected the wetness there. His heart bleaks a stinging pain into it’s cords, his breath shuddered coldly, flowers falling sadly beside their feet and his eyes earths with tears of panic, angst and torment.

His fingertips coating in his love's thick blood.

“I –- ‘m .. you –.. you’re h-hu —- hurt,” He stammered through a whimper hand wrapping around the dagger whose half end’s stabbed into Y/N's spine, her weak frail body unresponsive though she could listen to him.

“Who did this to you! Who did this to you!?” His screams and cries startled everyone downstairs and they rushed up to see what’s happening, to be shocked by their sights of Y/N limp in Harry’s embrace.

He turned his neck to shout at them, “I need a hand t’help me!!” His eyes bloodshot and Niall his best-man scurried over to them as Harry carried Y/N and laid her on her tummy on the bed, he slips onto his knees putting his chin on the mattress to look in her hazy painful eyes -- tears caged in them but never flowing down.

“Harry ...” She mumbled grittily in agony lifting her shaky fingers to pet his face and like an affection starved kitten Harry doesn’t let her tire herself and gets closer to her himself, “Niall bring the first aid, it’s under the sink.” He commands him not letting his eyes drift from over her angelic face.

“You’re okay baby. You’re okay, I know how to stitch up knife wounds.” He sniffled sucking in a breath trying to be brave for her and she just smiled gorgeously, lips blue and cheeks draining out of her usual berry stain.

“Jesus. Harry she’s been stabbed thrice, those fuckers,” Niall’s words wavered in fear and sympathy for Y/N. He squeezed Harry’s shoulder as Harry sobbed upon hearing that, “No –-... no, no! It’s still okay yeah poppet? I’m g’na get y'alright.” He wanted to covers his eyes to block the hurting groans Y/N elicited and he cradled her soft face in his warm palms in comparison to her temperature, touching their temples to pray together.

“Harry li .. listen to —- to me,” She gasps eyes flittering over his shoulder towards Bambi and Thumper the two dogs that had gotten overly fond of her, Harry’s blurry gaze follows her enfeebled gesture for them to come near her.

They whined and howled sadly flopping beside Harry and Harry hiccupped into his elbow shaking his head when Y/N put her hand under their ears in effort to scratch them but wasn’t able to unfortunately, “Hi babies. You’re gonna look after dad after ‘m gone?” Everyone cried at that watching her soul leave their dull lives that watered colourful upon her arrival.

“Don’t say that! Don’t y'dare say that!” Harry sobbed rushing to hug her tightly, the front of his shirt loathing crimson and she hissed looping her arm against his neck when Niall pulled the dagger out from her lower spine gradually and slowly not to hurt her.

“’M so sorry baby, sorry for being the reason of y’pain.” His tears dampened her already sweaty crook of neck, “Pr – promise me t-that that you’ll have some —.. someone who lov‐-.. loves –--,” She whimpered. Her body jerked into him with a force and she pushed him weakly away to stitch her lips tenderly against his's.

“Tell me bubby. Ha—- have I loved y'enough?” She cooed into their kiss and Harry bolted his eyes shut, poisonous sobs wrecking out of his chest.

“Tell me before, I go ...” Her heartbeat started dropping insanely, her lips wobbled, toes curling with life excavating out of her, “Y'have. Y'have don’t go baby, I’m not saying a goodbye!” He cried showering her in kisses for the one last time and pets her hair, eyes closed praying she takes him with herself because he'd never recover from the pain of loosing the only person he loved more than himself, the person who made hum love himself.

“I love you ..” She whispered, her loving kind eyes locked against his’s and the pool of honey around her rims expanded, her lips parted around the gasping breaths and Harry begged and pleaded — a side of him no-one has ever witnessed as he twisted in anguish considering himself the unluckiest man on the earth for letting his lover go like this, in the worst possible way.

“I love you, I thought I’d never be capable of, y'made me worthy darling. I'll always love you baby....” He shrieked into her chest heaving her up gently to embrace her properly and even though he knew she was no more with him, he fooled himself into thinking so.

If it was possible he’d have clawed his ribs to pluck out his heart in return of hers and he felt like the sun and earth had crashed vanishing away the time spaces as he sat there crying and crying mourning the loss of his lovie that could never be healed by anything in this whole word.

He keeps on holding her, rocking back and forth as he lulls her to slumber of death.

It hurts. It hurts so bad.

His heart weeps.

His soul aches.

When rain stopped and that tranquil silence doomed over them, rage filled his every pore and vein.

He knew who did this. Harry has played dirty but he has never played unfair. It was this gang of companies who sabotaged and destructed the orphanages at the property which belonged to his mother (but the papers weren’t clear) to build restaurants and apartments there so Harry took revenge by burning acres of their illegal drug running underground factory and rebuilt the orphanages and took Y/N to one of their charity events.

She was the happiest he had ever seen her.

It’s like a gun barrel clicked in. A firecracker catching the fuse of ashe to burst everything into flames as Harry laid her with ever most tenderness and kissed her temple, her lifeless eyelids and her chapped lips.

Cleaned the streak of blood with his sleeve and didn’t wipe his tears away bashing out of the room, everyone stepped away as Niall lunged infront of him to stop him before he goes to cause damage to himself more than to them for being in such a vulnerable and weak state.

“Step away.” He growled angrily, gaze fiery and dangerous.

“No.” Niall sighed.

“I wouldn’t get her buried in sucha cold blood. She didn’t deserved this, hell nobody does.” Harry kissed his teeth together gripping at his hair ruthlessly, cheeks dry with tears, his limbs trembling, his head spinning.

“Anyone who wouldn’t follow my orders gets their kneecaps blow-off.” He grunted -- nostrils flaring and saying this he went away, snatching his guns from the console and ordered his men to find the security guards that had their duties at the main gates.

In just a day he hunted each of those monsters down like a hungry wolf and gave them such punished, tortured deaths that each one fell in Harry’s feet for his mercy but his heart was turned into a stone already because the only warmth it had there was because of one person and that person’s gone leaving him to survive in this hellhole alone while he dragged these bastards to the depths of firepits.

Once, coming back home to her. To his sunshine, to his soul and life, to his reasons of getting up every morning so he would get to spend time with her —- he broke down. Into shattered bits and pieces of remorse, guilt and sadness feeling himself so small and hurtable as he cried to himself all alone in their garden with no-one to console him where he’ll come to meet her daily.

He wants to rip his skin apart and set it on fire for his beating heart to stop, for it stop feeling.

He feels sick. Fainting, in urgency and desperation to hold his baby and never let go.

To lay down with her under the soil if that's possible.

his only reason to live.

His only beloved.

.

The wind giggles through pink leaves of cherry blossom tree, lush grass resting peacefully and Harry smiles to himself treading towards his two most favourite people in the world.

The spring being their heartiest month.

“Azalea! What y’chattering ‘bout t'mum?” He asks and nods proudly when his lil boy stands up from his cross position on the ground from beside his mother and brushes the grassy spikes from his cherry printed shorts with his little pudgy hands.

“My first day at school dada!” The four years old squeals and Harry scoops him up in his arms, kissing his cheek again amount less times, “Is that so, huh! huh!” He tickles his little bun.

Y/N was right. Isn’t she always. Harry chuckles. Even if she’s gone he still feels loved from her, she’s in the rains, in the sweaters he wears when he feels shallow, in the scent of his pillows, she’s in the vanilla smell of their favourite cupcakes – she’s in his dreams and that name of their son, Azalea.

She always wanted to name their first born Azalea, a blooming flower that happens to be a vibrant pink, a gift of spring, are floriferous in sunshine and she'd always say that Harry would be their sun.

Their ever source of happiness.

Azalea was three days old when his mother died and Harry took him home even though not sure of his own decision but something in those little eyes that matches his mommy made Harry’s heart attract towards him so much he brought him without another thought.

A home he built with Y/N. The curtains of the mansion still remains pushed back wide, flower vases on every furniture, not a day goes by when anyone doesn’t misses her and the ducklings has grown so much that Y/N would have been spinning in happiness around.

Nothing has changed, life’s fleeting for everyone except for Harry. He counts each day and night that goes without her beside him in his sleep, in the little picnics with Azalea and Niall, in the story reading at nights with his baby, in kitchen to watch the winters first rain prattling against that one window that’s old enough to carry the remains of his ancestors, she’s never there to share a noodle pot with him while he sits and eat alone, never there to patch his favourite socks back, to kiss his forehead whenever he leaves home, to call him sweet names and to laugh with him on his silly jokes, to do thumb fights, to get angry with him whenever he refuses to layer himself in cold.

Never.

Never physically. But, she’s always there in his heart, her presence lurks around him and he could feel the warmth of her wrapping around him whenever he falls asleep watching telly.

“What did y'learn today bubba?” He asks Azalea and grins cheekily when Azalea babbles, “Colours!”

“That’s fuckin’ amazin'!” At that a huge gush of breeze hits him in face a tiny branch of the tree they’re standing under falls on his head.

“Kay' kay fine! No cursing.” He squeaks in defence pouting down at the grave of his lovie and his face splits into a grin when his hair glittered up with cherry blossom leaves.

“We miss you very much,” His voice heavy and sad. He gulps chokingly and blinks away the glossiness, stroking a thumb up Azalea cheek who’s sitting in Harry’s lap.

Every evening they come to meet Y/N, the hole in his heart couldn’t fill up of her void but the soothing feeling of relief that she’s in their garden and nearer to him has lessened the grief.

“G’na meet you tomorrow, our baby’s mighty hungry.” He chuckles hearing the grumbling noises coming from Azalea’s belly.

“You’re so cheeky baby.” His eyes glimmers and he feels himself swooning into breeze, “How’s it going in heaven?” He asks airily tracing his initials beside her beautiful name engraved at the tombstone and it’s like she’s scolding him when he gets a nip on his pointy finger.

“Azalea kiss mommy a goodbye.” Harry breaks into laughter when Azalea bobs his head and almost tumbles of his daddy’s lap in the effort to reach the tombstone.

“Goodbye beautiful.” Harry whispers kissing the top of her tombstone and his heart bursts into lilacs when once again he’s showered into petal like leaves.

“I love you too, baby.” Finally he has accepted to say goodbyes.

#THIS MADE ME CRY I NEVER CRY AT MY OWN FICS #THIS ONE WAS HELLA SAD #SORRY POPPLINS #BUT HAD TO GIVE YOU AN HEARTACHE #HARRY SAD WRITINGS #HARRY ANGST #harry styles fanfic #harry styles #cute harry #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut #harry smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry angst #hsh #fluff #dom harry

[frankiekatt]

Hiiii can I request maybe how would Bo (House of wax) react on his s/o "cheating" on him? He maybe walks on his s/o while they were trapped by a guy and he was kissing them, but s/o didn't actually kiss back, even tho it looked like they were kissing him back? Hope that this isn't confusing, have fun writing <3

Okay so this is set in high school, I hope you don't mind!

TW: Blood, mentions of murder

Words: 1400

Bo Walking In On His S/O Kissing Someone Else:

You were the one thing in Bo’s life that made him feel human. His mother, who was dying slowly with each passing day, always made him feel as if he was some rabid dog who could never compare to her precious Vincent, who could do no wrong in her eyes. His father, in his own words, viewed and treated him as a monster. His two brothers, however, offered him relief in his life. Vincent was his biological other half. He felt powerful next to his twin brother, a nice change from feeling so small and incapable in front of his parents. Vincent was submissive and hated conflict, which made ordering him around quite easy.

But you - you were his spiritual other half. The only person on earth he would willingly bow down to.

The two of you had met in kindergarten. Bo was loud and outgoing, while you tended to stick to yourself, not making very many friends. The two of you couldn’t have been anymore different, but that didn’t stop the both of you from gravitating towards each other.

Bo thought you were pretty and nice, and you found Bo to be funny and alluring. The two of you became fast friends, playing together during recess, coloring together and sharing snacks during snack-time.

In middle school, the two of you began to develop both physically and mentally. Bo began to see you in a different light - more than just pretty - you were beautiful and kind and when Bo thought about you his chest pounded.

For you, Bo began to grow handsome and charming, making your cheeks glow red at just the thought of him.

Once high school hit and Bo and his two brothers spent time in foster care, the two of you were inseparable. You gave Bo’s life a sense of normalcy in contrast to the death of his parents, his disfigured and troubled twin brother, and life in an uncaring foster system. You were more than happy to stay by Bo’s side, comforting him whenever he needed it. Bo’s happiness was vastly important to you, and you would do anything, sacrifice anything, do help him achieve it.

The two of you began dating in freshman year, only deepening the bond the two of you shared. The two of you were attached at the hip, spending everyday together. Bo was affectionate with you, peppering you in kisses and holding you by the waist every chance he could. To everyone else, he was rough around the edges, snarky, and unfriendly. With you, however, he was unashamed to show his love and adoration for you. He wanted you to feel special, to feel cared for. He was infatuated with you

So when he walked across the parking lot towards your car after school only to find you pressed up against the side of your red Volkswagen bug, locking lips with some blonde footballer, he felt like his world was crashing down around him.

“The fuck?” he shouted.

The two of you sprang apart, both of your faces holding a look of shock. You looked more mortified and dismayed than the boy who had been kissing you. The jock looked more startled than anything.

“Bo,” you began, voice trembling. “This isn’t....I didn’t-”

Bo smashed his fist into the blonde boy before you could finish. The boy fell to the ground with a grunt before wiping the back of his hand across his lips, revealing a severely split lip. Bo then bent down to grip the front of his t-shirt, and punched him again. “Get the hell out of here. Now.”

The blonde boy scrambled his feet, face bloodied and bruised, and rushed off before Bo could land another punch on him.

Bo could hear you whimpering behind him, but he refused to turn around and look at you.

“Bo, it’s not what you think, I swear.”

Bo let out a humorless laugh. “Not what it looks like? So the two of you weren’t making out, you were just playing pattycake, is that it?”

Tears streamed down your face, dripping off your chin to wet the asphalt beneath your feet. “No, Bo please just listen-”

Bo finally whipped around to look at you. “I don’t listen to whores like you. After everything I’ve goddamn done for you, you throw it all away for some dumb jock who couldn’t less of a fuck about you?”

Bo was hurt. It was written all over his face, swimming in his eyes, etched into his facial features. Masking his vulnerability with anger was something Bo always did, but never with you. Seeing him look at you with such contemptment and sadness made you cry harder. It reminded you of all the late nights you and Bo had spent together throughout freshman, sophomore, and junior year, baring your souls to one another as you laid in each other's arms. Bo often worried if he was enough for you, if he deserved you, and had voiced these concerns to you on more than one occasion. Every time without fail, you reassured him that he was the only one for you - that you were soulmates, and you were incapable of loving anyone else but him.

Knowing how betrayed he must feel, you attempted to reach for his hand, hoping he would be quiet for just five seconds so you could explain, but Bo jerked away from you in an instant.

“Don’t fucking touch me. You’re a liar and a slut, and this? Us? It’s goddamn over.” With that, Bo stormed away from you before you had a chance to react.

Bo had just broken up with you over a misunderstanding and your heart felt like it was splitting in half.

Bo spent the rest of the day and most of the evening in the town’s auto shop, trying to cloud his brain by tinkering with cars.

It wasn’t working. Bo’s only thoughts were of you - of your smile, your laugh, the way you hid behind him when you got nervous, the sweet way you told him you loved him. Everything about you made his chest ache. He couldn’t fathom how your pure, unbreakable relationship had ended so suddenly on a random Friday afternoon, because you cheated on him.

You cheated on him.

You cheated on him.

Why? Why why why why? The two of you had always been immensely close and faithful to each other. You had both talked about marriage, about getting out of Ambrose and starting a family together. Was that all gone now?

“Bo?”

Bo stiffened at the sound of your voice. Why were you here? He had ended things. He had made it clear that he wanted to be left alone, that the very sight of you made his blood boil.

“Go away,” he snapped.

Stepping further into the garage, you grabbed both of his shoulders and forced him to look at you. “Baby, please, please just listen to me. I did not kiss David! I would never do that to you.”

Bo shook you off of him. “I know what I fuckin’ saw. Get the hell out of here, I don’t wanna talk to you.”

“I didn’t kiss him! I swear! He came up to my car and started asking for my number. I told him I was taken, and then he just pushed me against the car and shoved his lips on me!” Your voice was cracking with every other word. “I couldn’t push him off of me. He was holding my arms down so tight he left a bruise. Just look”

Bo looked down to see you lifting up your sleeve to reveal a large purple bruise on your upper arm.

“He did that to you?” Bo snarled.

“Yes! Yes, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. Baby, I would never cheat on you, you know that. I’d rather die than betray you like that.”

Bo’s face contorted into fury. Some fucker had forced himself on you, made him think you had betrayed him, made him call you names, made him break up with you.

“I’ll fucking kill him. I’ll slit his fucking throat.” Bo grabbed you and crushed you to his chest, letting out a heavy breath. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for calling you names and for leaving you like that.”

You let out a sigh of relief. You were back in Bo’s arms again, the one place you felt safe and secure.

“It’s okay, it’s okay honey,” you cried. “I’m just happy to be with you. I’m sorry you had to see that. I felt so disgusted with his lips on mine.”

“I meant what I said, you know,” he whispered.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m going to kill him. I’m going to make him suffer for what he did. I’d burn in hell for you, and I’m going to make sure that cock sucker does too.”

#slashers #bo sinclair #house of wax #bo sinclair imagines #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x you #bo sinclair x y/n #love #unhealth relationship #fanfic #slasher imagines #slashers x reader #slashers x you #slashers x y/n

[zealoushound]

Where I Belong

Summary: Your and Mike's son has a bad dream. He wants his father to comfort him. While comforting his little boy he reflects back on his past.

Pairing: Mike/Reader, Mike with his son

Word Count: 1,275

Warnings: none. All fluff. Sweetheart Mikey being a sweetheart dad.

A/N: I really wanted to see Mikey as a father, then suddenly inspiration struck. Mike deserved better so we’re out here giving it to him!

Disclaimer: I do not own Mike, Hellrasier, or Henry Cavill, much to my dismay. Only the kids and the wife are my original creation.

Do not copy any part of my material to use as your own. Do not repost my work, or any portions of my work on any site and claim it as your own. Like all my other fics, this was written on my phone and not beta’d.

***

This work of art right here came from the lovely @luna-aestas Thank you so much for such a beautiful piece!

***

It was 2:13 am according to the alarm clock on your bedside table. Your home was peacefully quiet. Then from the darkness of your bedroom came a small voice. “Daddy?” The voice was very soft, very timid. “Daddy?” The little voice was scared.

You were sleeping peacefully, unaware of the meek little voice calling out for his father. A shaky little hand reached out for his fathers shoulder. Giving him a light shake, he spoke a bit louder this time, with fresh tears falling from his eyes, “Daddy?”

Mike woke from a dream of his own. His reality went from losing his swimming trunks at the water park he used to frequent in his childhood, to the familiar darkness of his current bedroom that he shared with his wife of five years. There was a dim nightlight by the door, and one in the hallway for your son to be able to see his way around if needed, but otherwise nothing except the orange glow of the street light down below between the slits in the blinds of your window by the bathroom.

“Daddy?” Mike took in a sharp inhale of breath through his nose, letting his eyes adjust.

“Adam? What’s the matter buddy?” Mike sat up somewhat confused, putting his legs over the edge of the bed, and picked up his son. Holding him close as he started to cry harder. “Come on buddy, let’s go to your room so we don’t wake mama.” You were seven months pregnant, and he knew just how precious sleep was to you right now.

Standing up, holding Adam, he threw one arm back to stretch then walked the nervous toddler back to his bedroom. Adam clutching his fathers bare shoulder the entire way. “Tell me what’s wrong buddy.” Mike said, going into Adam's room.

“I have bad dream.” Mike's face fell a bit. He sat Adam down on the bed. Sitting down beside him he watched as the four year old wiped his face with the sleeve of his pajamas.

“I’m sorry kiddo. Wanna tell me what it was about?” Mike brushed his son's unruly curls out of his face.

Adam sniffled. Begrudgingly he began telling his father his nightmare. “There was a bear in my room. Him was a bad bear, daddy.” He looked around like he was looking for the beastly bear to come back. “Him bit me! And him was gonna eat me!”

Mike’s eyes widened in pretend shock, he gasped, “No way! Quick! Let me look at you!” Mike rolled up his son's sleeves, lifted his shirt over his head, tilting him back and forth, inspecting his stomach and back. He rolled up the legs of Adam’s pajamas. Adam was giggling at his fathers reaction. “Phew, no bear bites! Looks like that bear let you go! Musta been scared off cause of these stinky feet!” He crossed his eyes, sticking out his tongue and played dead, flopping back onto the mattress.

“Daddy!” Adam’s laughter filled the room. He laid down with his dad. Mike shifted into a more comfortable position knowing he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. “Tell me a story daddy.”

Mike recanted the age-old story that his grandmother used to tell him about the three bears, but gave it a more happy ending, and made Goldielocks a little boy named Sam. Telling him in the end that the bears all befriended the little boy. He was even invited inside to eat dinner after having help fix the things that he had broken.

“Daddy?” Mike could tell Adam was getting sleepy again.

“Yeah, kiddo?” He was softly running his fingers through his son's hair.

“Do you ever have bad dreams?” Such an innocent question. One that could bring back such dark memories if he were to allow it. Not tonight.

Mike inhaled sharply, remembering the sounds of the shovels digging into the earth to free him; the scraping of metal against wood. “Yeah buddy, sometimes.” Adam looked up into his eyes as he continued. “Your mom saved me from those dreams though. She made them stop. But when I do have them I just wake her, and she holds me until the monsters go away.” Mike smiled fondly talking about his wife. The mother of the children he never imagined he’d have.

Adam yawned, and smiled. “Close your eyes little guy. That bear ain’t coming back. If he does just feed him some porridge. That’ll make him happy.” Adam closed his eyes and was asleep in minutes.

Mike stayed awake a little bit longer thinking about his family. Thinking what would have happened had that officer not realized what was going on at that house that night. He had never thought he’d be so grateful to see the inside of an ambulance. That was the night he met you.

You weren’t even supposed to be working that evening. You had pulled a double because someone was sick. You were the second person he saw that night. When they opened the casket an officer called for help. “We got a live one! Need some help over here!” You were the one to answer that call. You helped pull him from the earth.

Mike fell asleep thinking about seeing your beautiful face for the first time that night. Thinking about the way you gently shushed him, putting the oxygen mask over his mouth and held him to you in the back of that ambulance because he refused to lie down, terrified that if he did he’d end up back in that box. The way your fingers brushed his curls back away from his face.

You woke up that morning around 7:30 reaching for your husband but found only his pillow. You got up slowly, wanting to take care of nature’s business then go looking for him. After washing your hands you walked down the hall to check on your son. The sight that greeted you made you smile wide.

There was no denying Adam was Mikey’s son. They were both on their backs, their right arms were both up and over their heads, the left draped over their stomachs. They were both snoring, both mouths wide open. There were curls everywhere! You went, and grabbed your phone to snap a picture.

“I love you my boys.” You quietly say rubbing your bump. “Little girl these boys are going to be wrapped around your finger I just know it.” You went downstairs to cook breakfast.

Mike joined you in the kitchen not long afterward. Kissing the back of your neck he mumbled a good morning. “Say, do you remember what the first thing I ever said to you was?”

You laughed, “How could I forget?!” You turned away from what you were doing to look at him. “‘Hey sweet cheeks, you always look this good saving lives?’” Mike laughed at you when you tilted your head like he did when he flirted. “To which I responded, ‘normally no, but you making me roll around in all this dirt gave me a more natural look.’”

You touched his face as his hands caressed your full abdomen. His little girl. “I’m so glad I worked that double. I was so pissed I had to take that shift. Who knew three hours later I’d meet my soulmate.”

Mike hummed, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, closing his eyes in bliss. Some would say it was divine intervention, some would say fate, or it just wasn’t his time, but if anyone asked Mike, he would tell them he didn’t know, and didn’t care all he knew was that he was exactly where he was meant to be.

***

Tag list: (As always if you want on or off please let me know!)

@foodieforthoughts @wendimydarling @hope-to-hell @littlefreya @nuggsmum @killjoy-assbutt-1112 @summersong69 @oddduckthatgirl @christhickevans @winter2112rose @ladycavillry @mary-ann84 @twhstuckylover @cavills-little-princess @luclittlepond

#zealoushound writes #where i belong #mikey hellraiser #mike x reader #mike fan fiction #henry cavill fanfic #soft mikey #comfort fic #dad mike

[oliviajdjarin]

Chapter 8: An Apology

Warnings: depression, suicidal thoughts, references to an incredibly painful past, references to murder, references to torture, lots of crying, references of being shot/stabbed. This is really heavy, so please proceed with caution.

Author’s Note: Thank you to EVERYONE who has shown any support for this! I am very proud of this series and it makes me very happy people are enjoying it 💜

(I cannot remember where I got this gif from, so if it’s yours please let me know so I can credit you!)

After Mando left, you sat in your silent sobs for what felt like hours.

It could have been hours for all you knew. It’s not like you cared anyway.

All you did was sit in your guilt and shame, allowing yourself to digest all you’ve done. You have been pushing this down for so long, and now it feels like there is no stopping it.

A person can only pretend for so long, and you would give anything to just go back in time and reverse it all.

So many faces flash in your memory of people you’ve killed and cheated for the Empire, and it’s an absolute hell. None of these people deserved what they got. None of them. And yet you still did it.

No matter how many excuses you make for how you became a part of the Empire and all the torture they put you through, you still did it. You are still an enemy to the people you held so dear after so little time.

You are a monster.

After a while, you hear Mando’s footsteps entering Kuiil’s house again. You don’t even know where Kuiil is, you honestly forgot he even existed.

Maybe he will forgive me, you think to yourself. We were in a similar situation?

You see Mando’s helmet enter through the doorway and you feel the smallest, tiniest fraction of butterflies you once had for the man returning.

But the butterflies are immediately squashed when you remember you are about to be thrown out. Again.

Just because you handled it once before doesn’t mean you have the strength to go through that now. Especially after everything you’ve done.

You feel his eyes scanning your pathetic, patched up form on the ground, and the storm inside of you starts to rumble again.

Please… please not again.

He sits down on the opposite side of the ship, resting his hands on his knees. He folds his hands, and you swear you hear him take a deep breath.

“She needs to calm down, that’s all,” he says, referring to Cara, and you find some strength to nod. Your eyes are burning and your muscles want to explode from exhaustion. Your mind is keeping you awake, while the rest of your body just wants to sleep.

“I…. I wouldn’t have let her kill you,” he says, and you shut your eyes, feeling the tears start to rise again.

Why, you think to yourself. It would be easier for everyone if I was just dead!

You still somehow keep yourself together, wiping your nose with your sleeve. He can see how much pain you are in, but you were praying he didn’t pity you. You didn’t deserve it. Especially from him.

“I have only heard stories about red lightsabers. They belong to an evil, dark side of the powers that the kid has,” he says, and you nod.

He has to understand. You know he understands. He always has.

“They’re called Sith… right,” he asks, and you finally make eye contact with him.

“Yes,” you croak out. Your voice sounds like you hadn’t talked for a hundred years, but Mando just nodded.

Yes, you think to yourself. I am a Sith.

The fact that Mando knows who and what you are now is the weirdest combination of feeling a weight lifted off your shoulders, but at the same time, one double the weight has been added.

He was talking so gently. Like he didn’t want to rub it in your face.

He has to be doing this so I don’t kill him when he kicks me out, you think.

Why else would he have any respect for me? No one else ever has?

He takes a moment to process, and then he asks, “The Emperor was a Sith… wasn’t he?”

You feel like a sword has been stabbed through you one final time, but you don’t want to make him feel like he’s hurting you, so you just nod slowly.

You have to save your strength for when he asks you to leave. You know he will ask you in that calm, gentle voice that will haunt you forever.

He understands you fought for the Empire. You killed, destroyed, and lied for them. Their blood is forever stained on your hands, and now you got Mando bloodied.

He deserves an explanation, or at least an apology, so you mumble a quiet “um,” signifying you were about to speak.

Even if he doesn’t believe you, he needs to know you didn’t want this. Ever.

“My uh… my parents sold me,” you mumble while sniffling.

You can tell his interest is peaked because his entire body leans forward, silently asking you to continue.

How can he even look at me right now?

You proceed to tell him the story of how your parents were servants to an evil family who never gave them a fair pay. They were incredibly poor, and they had you outside of wedlock, so they were looked down upon even more in their society. They hated you for it. They took any chance they could get to get you away from them.

When the Empire came to your planet looking for recruits, your parents jumped on the offer. They didn’t mind the extra handful of credits that came with it too.

“No matter how much I hated them, they were still my parents,” you say.

“I didn’t want to leave them, so when the stormtroopers went to drag me away, I got so angry. I didn’t know it at the time, but the force channeled through me in my anger. I used all my strength, and sent them all flying through the air,” you say, while laughing uncomfortably at the memory.

Your eyes still burned and your muscles screamed for relief, but you had to keep going. Mando deserved to know the truth.

“That’s the last thing I remember of that day, and the next thing I knew, I was sent into training. I went through countless masters, but none of them could control me. I was just so angry. All the time,” you said with a sigh.

“I would refuse to do what they asked, and even when I did what I was told, I would hurt them instead. I never listened.”

You took a deep breath. This next part was going to hurt.

“They finally realized that I could not be controlled, so they….. tortured me,” you say, trying not to allow the weakness in your voice to show through.

If you got emotional, it was more likely Mando would think you were crazy. You had to keep pushing.

You cleared your throat, and continued.

“They made me do everything, Mando. They made me tear down towns, cities, planets. And if the people didn’t succumb to the Empire’s rule…,” you say, and you can’t even finish the sentence.

“I finally got away years later, and I escaped to Tattooine. They tried to stop me, but it was no use. I could beat any stormtrooper or Imperial guard they threw at me,” you say.

“They hurt me enough to know that I wouldn’t come back…… I hadn’t even come close to helping anyone but myself until I met you,” you say.

You take a deep breath and rub your eyes.

You did it, you think. He knows.

You let him digest your story. He listened intently and respectfully the entire time you were speaking. He never interrupted, he never became angry, he just stared at you and digested it all.

It was quiet for a while, until he stood up.

“The Empire killed my family,” he said, and all your composure went out the window.

You assumed that the Empire hurt him, it has hurt everyone, but this is on another level. It felt like you had been shot again, but this was way more painful. Your heart shattered for him.

You always knew the universe was cruel, but you had done horrific things, so you always thought it was payback. Now you knew the universe was truly cruel.

“I am….. so sorry,” you manage to say through your burning throat. Tears were streaming down your face, but you managed to stay relatively quiet. It’s not like crying for them would bring Mando’s family back.

He moved to you slowly and kneeled down in front of you.

You couldn’t meet his gaze. You just stared at the floor and wiped your eyes. You were hurting him, just like you hurt everyone else. It felt like hell on earth and you were convinced you were the worst person that ever lived.

“You… you don’t have to believe me Mando. I know I hurt so many people, and even if I didn’t want to, I still did what they asked,” you say, trying to fill up the space.

“You can kick me out, kill me. Anything. I just want you to know that I didn’t choose this. I swear on everything I would do anything to be any other person in the whole galaxy.”

You finish and finally meet his gaze, begging him to say something. Anything.

He stands to leave, and you finally accept your fate.

He gets to the doorway, your final hopes of forgiveness leaving with him.

“I believe you,” he mumbles, looking back at you.

“We will talk more tomorrow” he says, and he leaves you.

Tag list:

@leahkenobi @pinkninja200 @bookloverfilmoholic @farfromjustordinary @440mxs-wife

#din djarin #din djarin fluff #din djarin imagine #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian #mando #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you

[stxleslyds]

Red Hood and the lost art of telling Joker to shup up.  

Okay, I know that I talked about Jason and Joker in a recent post but this is something different, I promise.

I really want to talk about how different Jason has been written since UtRH when it comes to him confronting Joker. Jason hasn’t been put in that position a lot but the times that he has, he lets Joker talk for far too long and actually pays attention to whatever he has to say.

The Jason vs Joker thing is basic in on itself and letting Joker talk isn’t exactly the problem here, the real problem is Jason letting Joker’s thoughts shape his future thoughts and decisions, I do understand that that’s exactly what writers want though, they want to build the problematic of: “Jason is just like Joker and the fact that he uses the name Red Hood only proves that Joker made who Jason is now”.

But the thing is that THAT problem is overdone at this point and the only time it worked was the first time it was brought up and it worked because Jason shut the Joker down.

Let’s see all the times (that I remember) the Joker and Jason have had a little chat and/or the times Joker’s words actually influence Jason’s thinking and decision making.

 Under the Red Hood – Batman (1940) #649

This is the first real confrontation we get to see between Jason and Joker after Jason’s death and it is beautiful. It's absolutely amazingly written, Joker goes on and on forever about how he killed Jason about how Jason is just as bad as him but that he is also just like Batman because he hasn’t killed him yet.

“You let me live after everything I did, you couldn’t pop my balloon. You just couldn’t. The apple doesn’t tumble too far from the paterfamilias. You are just like daddy-kins”

Jason lets him talk, yes. But he absolutely destroys Joker with what he tells him next.

“You couldn’t be more wrong about me. If right were a country on earth you’d be circling on the edge of the milky way. Yeah, I let you live but like always, every damned minute of your addled, posturing, psychopathic life, you think this is about you. You’re a worm. I’ve pitched you on a hook and dropped you into the brine. And I will beat the hell out of you Pagliacci because it was too much fun not to.”

“Listen to me Joker, I’m not you. I´m nothing like you. I know what I do and I know why I do it. You, you are, clinically speaking, a whack-job. But I know a secret, a good one.”

“You are not nearly as crazy as you would like us all to believe or even as crazy as you would like to believe. It just makes it easier to justify every sick monstrous thing you’ve ever done when you play the part of the mad clown. You are crazy, bubba, but you ain’t that crazy. Look at that. I wiped a smile off of Joker’s face. I have been waiting a long time for that.”

Everything about this is perfect, Jason gives Joker no room to mess with him. Whatever the Joker had planned on saying he had to eat because Jason wasn’t playing games and he was ready for any kind of lie the Joker had ready to tell. This is Jason Todd. He won’t let the Joker get under his skin because he knows the Joker and he, also, knows better. 

Red Hood and the Outlaws (2011) #15

Here Jason comes across Joker during the “Death of the Family” event. In this issue the Joker has information about all of the members of the “Batfamily” and he uses that to mess around with each one of them, in Jason’s case he insinuates that he was present in very specific moments of his life when Jason’s father got shot, when his mother overdosed and when he was on his own before joining Batman.

Jason doesn’t quite believe that Joker was there but as the reader, we can see this sort of sense of doubt in Jason. He hesitates a few times before resolving that the Joker is playing with him.

But as far as this issue goes let’s just say that what the Joker says doesn’t get to Jason, this changes though in the issue that follows up this story.

Teen Titans (2011) #16

This is where that story continues and where Jason starts to buy the story that Joker is selling.

Joker convinces Jason that he has his father and Tim’s father and that the only way for Jason (or Tim) to save their dads is by killing the other (Jason or Tim). Tim doesn’t believe it but Jason is ready to shoot Tim almost immediately.

However, Jason changes his mind about killing Tim just as Tim comes up with a plan for them to not actually have to kill each other. Here is where Lobdell’s writing shows all of its flaws, Lobdell is so desperate to show that Jason and Tim are besties that he forgets that Jason had no reason to stop trying to kill Tim to save his shit father because it is later revealed that Jason truly believed that Joker had found his father and had him captive. It wasn’t until Tim explained his thought process as to why those men weren’t their dads that Jason just goes “you realize, of course, the only reason I didn’t kill you right off is that I knew your big brain will figure out some way out of this” HA, nice save Lobdell but I see right through your bullshit.

Jason bought what the Joker was selling and that is the beginning of Jason’s downgrade when it comes to not playing Joker’s games.

Red Hood and the Outlaws (2011) #17

Well, in this issue Lobdell goes back to Jason kinda not believing what Joker told him, and Jason asks Bruce of all people if he thinks the Joker truly “made him or not”. Bruce says that he doesn’t believe that and that he didn’t have anything to do with the man that Jason has become either. For some reason, Jason is actually happy with what Bruce said and for a couple of moments, Jason goes back to being sure that the Joker knows nothing and that he is his own man.

It doesn’t last long though. At the very end of the issue, the trap that Joker had set up in Jason’s helmet triggers and Jason gets his face fucked up with acid or something.

But that’s not all because a hologram of Joker has something to say: “you were supposed to be my masterpiece from start to finish. But you were too stubborn to stay dead. So here is what we are going to do… You’re so determined to be your own man? Fine, let’s start with a clean slate”.

Basically, the Joker insinuates once more that he had something to do with who Jason was supposed to become and that Jason isn’t truly “his own man”, This is all a setup for a very dense storyline that will be continued in this run later.

Red Hood and the Outlaws (2011) #18

In this issue, Jason is in a coma after he is dosed with that gas in the previous issue. The Joker isn’t really present in this issue but he does make an appearance as part of Jason’s “nightmare” while he is unconscious.

That’s not all though, Jason has an illusion of Ducra (someone that he appreciates a lot), telling him that “after you left the All-Castle after you went back to the world you continued to let your life be defined by the actions of that man. You became a killer, lashing out at people who may or may not have deserved it. Eventually, you will hurt all those you have cared for. In that way, how are you any different from the Joker?”.

In this statement, there is a lot of wrongs that can come from two places, either bad writing on Lobdell’s part or just Ducra telling lies as a plot point.

“Let your life be defined by the actions of that man” is a sentence that horribly simplifies Jason’s thinking during the events of UtRH, because while he did resent the Joker, his real problem was with Bruce who had not avenged his death by killing the Joker himself. Also, Jason was doing other things back then, like being a pain in the ass for Black Mask and disrupting the drug trade in Gotham as well as trying to control the drug dealing to children. So that little sentence is just a gross misinterpretation of the true events which means that Ducra was wrong, and “she” continues to be wrong when she says that there might be no difference between Jason and Joker.

Luckily Jason thinks the same because he tells “Ducra”: “…don’t you dare compare me to that monster Ducra. I am nothing like the Joker! Nothing!”

Once again please don’t be fooled by Jason’s thinking because in the next issue it turns around really fast and really bad.

Red Hood and the Outlaws (2011) #19

Just a heads up this issue has a change of writer, Lobdell isn’t writing this arc, the writer that gives us this hellish story arc is James Tynion IV.

All that talk about Jason not being affected or not believing what the Joker told him is yeeted out of the window and it’s not a fun ride.

In this issue, Roy and Kory find a Jason that doesn’t know who they are or who he, himself, is. This is because S’aru that little floaty little shit took his memories away after Jason asked him to do so, well Jason asked S’aru to erase every memory that darkness has touched (Joker) and he does that. But him doing that is apparently erasing everything which, holy shit, how messed up is that?

But let’s take a look at what Jason says before he gets his memories taken away: “Not only did the Joker almost take my face, but he tells me he might have manipulated my entire life from the beginning! Even the good is tainted by him now. I can’t do it anymore. I can’t have that kind of doubt. If you take it away, I can go on living. I can keep fighting”. So, yeah that was a pretty emo speech. But the thing here is that if Jason is asking this dude to erase every memory that has been tainted by the Joker and he erases all of them then we might be facing one of two situations, either Joker has been messing up with Jason’s life from the beginning or S’aru is just a little bitch.

We will later find out in #20 that S’aru and Ducra planned the whole thing, meaning that they took all of his memories for ulterior motives not because the Joker had actually tainted all of them.

For many issues Jason has no memories and now that I am revisiting these issues, I now remember the twisted and completely insane plot they came up with for the “League of Assassins” and Jason being the “Chosen One”, everything was happening in this run, my god, it's like they wanted Jason to be the center of every single trope in writing history.

It’s in issue #26 that Jason asks for his memories back but the Joker having tainted his memories or not isn’t important anymore to anyone, including the writer (because he is too focused on telling this messy story), Jason (because he has enough problems at the moment) and the reader (because this book makes zero sense and it changes the story and motivations every single issue).

But there is another truth to be revealed in the next issue.

Red Hood and the Outlaws (2011) #27

Jason has planned along Ducra and S’aru to give up all of his memories to be cleansed so he could defeat Ra’s Al Ghul. But (there is always a but) Ducra says this: “Your greatest enemy returned and nearly took your face away from you. And in the process, shook your sense of identity to the core” “The final battle here will take place in the Well of Sins, and with all the doubt and fear clouding your mind, it would eat you whole”.

So yeah, now we have confirmation from Ducra that Jason had indeed let what the Joker told him cloud his sense of self and made him doubt who he was and if he really was in control.

All that back and forth for these many issues just to say, yes, Jason let Joker’s words affect him.

So here it is, let Joker get in Jason’s head to build the plot of a story, fantastic, the story was a mess because it had so much information, the mischaracterizations of Roy and Kory were at their maximum potential, and in this particular story arc not only are the events of Red Hood: The Lost Days officially erased from Jason’s canon but something quite out there is added to Jason’s canon from before he was even Robin (that’s a whole different story that I won’t be talking about here).

What an insane ride this arc was. Definitely not the kind of story I enjoy in a Red Hood book but that’s just my preference.

*This whole arc was written by James Tynion IV.

Red Hood/Arsenal #11

Joker is dead during the events of this run but the person who has something to say to Jason about how the Joker made the person that he is now is Duela Dent (“Joker’s daughter”, she isn’t his daughter she just found Joker’s face somewhere and she puts it on and “becomes” crazy, she is an incredibly weird character).

She says this, “You’re a lot like dad in that way” to which Jason says “He is not my father. He’s not even your father” but Duela continues by saying. “You’re kidding yourself if you genuinely believe that. Yeah, he took your life but look what you got in its place, you ingrate. You got your freedom. You were reborn.” 

Jason doesn’t fall for it or anything of the sort but once again writers are bringing up the Joker as the maker of the Red Hood and “suggesting” that what Jason has been doing and who he has become is all thanks to Joker. The idea of Jason having no free will is still present in this narrative, even when Jason doesn’t believe it.

Red Hood/Arsenal #12

I talked too soon because in this issue Jason is having some weird thoughts.

“Funny, isn’t it, so easy to call Duela “crazy” because she wears a dead man’s face. Because isn’t that what I’m doing? Before he was the Joker, he was the Red Hood. So maybe the line between men and the Joker’s daughter is a lot thinner than I’d like to admit.”

Here he is comparing himself to Duela and to the Joker to an extent, writers often bring up the fact that Jason uses the code name that his killer once had and they have people or Jason himself questioning why he uses that name.

Personally, I don’t think there is much to build from it (at least not from the perspective of Lost Days and UtRH), it was just a joke, a morbid one if you will. He wears the mantle of the person that destroys Gotham and fills its people with fear while he is trying to control the city’s drug trade and trying to keep the people safe in his own way. And the way he wanted to do it is almost the complete opposite of the way that Batman does things.

I just think that he is being ironic and acidic about the whole thing. He has obviously moved on from the fact that Joker killed him but he has issues with the fact that Batman has yet another child working with him while the Joker is still alive. And Jason really wanted to make Bruce suffer, so him taking the name and a similar appearance to how the joker used to look is also done to get a reaction from Bruce.

I really don’t think there is any sort of connection to make between Jason and Joker beyond that, much like there is no connection between the name Nightwing and the Court of Owls. Even though Lincoln March tried to convince Dick Grayson that he chose the name Nightwing because Owls fly at night and that meant that he was supposed to become a Talon and all that Dick still didn’t believe it because he knew why he chose that name and no one can twist his reason.

Red Hood and the Outlaws (2016) #10

Finally, I can stop re-reading New 52 books, I don’t enjoy it but I have to do it if I want to talk/complain about stuff.

This one is a little different because while Jason does talk with the Joker, the Joker isn’t really there he is just part of Jason’s imagination just like the Robin Jason that he is also seeing.

In this story, Jason is helping Artemis discover who she is but he gets captured in Qurac, yup that place, and worst of all from where he is being held, he can see the place where he died. All of that is helping Jason have some very vivid memories/illusions. He does actively hold a conversation with the imaginary Joker and Robin Jason though, and he is also having a lot of thoughts that let us know how the Joker affects Jason.

“This is why it was stupid of me to come back to Qurac. Even to help Artemis, even if I thought I could handle it. Physically, I am alone, but in my head? I’m drowning in memories of the worst day of what was my very short life. The day I was murdered.”

That’s what Jason is thinking but what I write next is what Jason’s saying as he talks to the imaginary Joker.

“Not interested in replaying this over again, like I have every night of my life since it happened Joker”

So, we are told that Jason thinks about that day very often, the Joker might not be involved much in Jason’s books but he definitely has a bigger role inside of Jason’s head. They chat for a bit up until Jason decides to “kill” the Joker, he knows, of course, that it is not real but it does give him satisfaction. (If only they would have let Jason actually kill the clown for real, or at the very least chase him just to show the reader that Jason does actually want to finish the job since the Bat won’t do it himself).

Having said all that, Joker’s imaginary death doesn’t last long because Jason is trapped in his mind and the Joker is basically functioning on a loop inside of it.

That is where the problem lies in this issue because Jason is letting us know that he is still heavily influenced by what happened that day and that he hasn’t been able to walk away from it. But once more that’s not the worst thing, because all of these thoughts have led Jason to think that he (in the present and as a fifteen-year-old) is the one to blame for having ended up dead. Yeah, it is messed up.

This is what Jason says to imaginary Robin Jason, “He is never going to die, Jason. Not here. Not in my mind, not if at some point I don’t stand up and walk away from my memories. From you.”

This is a major downgrade, from the Jason that we had in UtRH because that Jason had moved on from the fact that he had been killed what he was looking for was for Batman to avenge his death. He had other things in mind as well, like I said before in this post Jason had a lot of things going on, killing Joker wasn’t his only plan.

And this situation (written by Lobdell) is also very different from what was going on in New 52 where Jason being influenced by the Joker was used to build a plot. This is just a writer letting us know that this “new version” of Jason hasn’t worked out his problems when it comes to his death and his killer. That means that we are going backward.

After he realizes that he was unconscious all that time and that he was being tortured he does get his shit together in order to get out of captivity and go help Artemis.

The Joker and that whole thing that happened in his mind aren’t mentioned again, it was just for the reader to know that Rebirth Jason has unsolved issues with his death.

Batman: Three Jokers #1

Oh yes, here we are, we have arrived to that dreaded book, awful writing gorgeous art. In this book, the “Joker made Jason as he is now” trope is at its full potential; Johns drives this hellish truck of a book at full speed into our homes and then ends it by giving us one of the worst takes on Jason Todd’s characterization ever.

But first, let’s talk about the Joker and Jason interaction in the first issue. As Jason and Barbara are left alone with the Joker that they came across moments ago the Joker begins talking because that’s what he does.

He says this, “I’m the loop-de-loop, the hamster-wheel-of-doom. The cycle of pain each one of you is trapped in. Take “Red Hood” here, for example. Have you ever wondered why he uses my former moniker? Who in their right mind would take on the identity of their killer? Am I right?”

He is obviously being a little shit on purpose and is waiting to see if somebody will take the bait. Jason is the first to talk and he says this: “I took it because I’m owning what you did to me. You made me into this. I will be your destruction”.

Congratulations Jason, you took the bait, and now Barbara will fight with you over it.

Jason raises his gun to “break the cycle” and Barbara is like “please don’t do it” and boy is Joker having the time of his life! Both of these idiots are playing his game, Johns really did both Jason and Barbara dirty with this.

Here is where THE problem with letting the Joker talk is. This Joker got under Jason’s skin in seconds and Barbara did nothing while it happened.

This is what the Joker had to say. “Let’s look at the facts here bat-people. I bashed this boy’s skull in. I killed this Robin” to which Jason says “You didn’t kill me, you only made me stronger” which is weird because the Joker did kill him so I don’t know what kinda comeback that was supposed to be but Joker wasn’t done because he continues by saying “Yes, you crawled from the shallow grave I left you in. You lived on to fight another day. Hurrah! You survived because of your tenacity! Or maybe… maybe I beat you to a bloody mess… I took you right to the edge… because I wanted to leave you alive.”

Great that’s where the clown is going, just fantastic, more of the “I made you” but that’s not all because the Joker tells Jason that him having hurt Jason wasn’t because he didn’t like Jason, it was all about Batman, Jason doesn’t matter.

But that’s not the worse thing that was written in this awful book, Geoff Johns seems to have felt that the trauma that Jason went through in the original “Death in the Family” story wasn’t enough because he decided to add something new.

That’s why the Joker says this next, “Do you recall what you said to me while I was breaking your head in with that crowbar? As your blood streamed into your eyes and your skull cracked? Because I cherish those words. I’ll always cherish them. ‘Please stop! Please! If you let me live, I’ll do anything you say. I’ll be your Robin’” “And look at you now my little “Red Hood” shooting up people and making Batman’s life miserable! You are my Robin!”

What a nightmare Johns decided to put Jason and Jason Nation through huh? I hate this, this is the worst thing that has ever been written in a Jason Todd story (although I can say that about many things that were written in this three-issue book).

Jason kills the Joker after he says all that, Barbara does (for some reason) try to stop him from doing it but luckily, she can’t stop Jason.

But here is the thing, Jason killing the Joker doesn’t make me feel as satisfied as I would have liked, and it doesn’t feel that way because Jason let Joker talk for far too long and what Joker said ended up getting in Jason’s head and messing with him.

Batman: Three Jokers #2

Yeah, there is no rest for us, Jason Nation, in this issue Jason goes looking for another Joker to kill and he finds one but he gets captured. Johns really had to get Jason naked for Joker to torture him mentally and physically? Johns is, himself, a major red flag but that’s not what I am here to talk about.

In this issue the Joker that captures Jason has the same things to say as the other one, DC writers really have no imagination when it comes to building conflict between Joker and Jason, huh?

Anyway, Joker says this, “tell me something. Why would you put on that helmet and call yourself Red Hood after what we did?” Jason of course replies “Come on, is every one of you copycats gonna ask me the same thing? It’s a joke” the answer isn’t enough for Joker (the two of them that are here with Jason) so he continues talking. “A joke? We left you with brain damage and permanent nerve pain. Physical and emotional trauma so severe that the only relief you ever find is when you inflict pain on others. You and me, boy, we’re more alike than you’d care to admit. But you know that already. You nearly died and you blame the Batman. You hate him for it. Me too. You hate him most of all don’t you?”

Now, here is the thing, that whole thing is bullshit, none of it makes sense. From Jason having permanent nerve pain to Jason hating Batman the most, everything is a lie. And my confusion here is that I don’t know if I have to feel like Joker is doing it on purpose to be a little bitch or if Geoff Johns was on crack when he wrote this and he had actually never heard of Jason Todd in his life before.

The whole thing is a mess, it feels like he is writing Jason from an origin and story that we never read. I don’t know how to explain it, but the whole thing feels cheap, it’s a cheap trope and it’s a cheap take on who Jason Todd is, was, and will be.

The nightmare doesn’t end Jason Nation because these two Jokers have something else in mind, you see, if they said that they made the Red Hood when they killed Jason the first time, maybe if they kill him this time then he could possibly come back as the Joker. Yeah, this book did nothing for Jason.

Let’s make something clear, Jason does NOT hate Batman/Bruce for not being able to save him, he hates the fact that Batman/Bruce didn’t kill the Joker to avenge him. That simple thing doesn’t exist in Three Jokers and that’s why things like the ones that happen next are allowed to happen in this story.

Bruce and Barbara find Jason and when Bruce asks if he is okay Jason just goes berserk, he says: “Am I all right? What do you think Bruce?! You did this to me. You put me on this path. And I do hate you for it. For leaving me in the dirt. Replacing me one Robin after another without a thought.”

This, everybody is what you get when you mix bad writing with Jason being mentally manipulated by the Joker.

It's a shame that Jason is being treated this way at this point in time, in a book that came out in 2020 when Jason was able to shut the clown up with a knife and a couple of words back in 2005. What a downgrade.

At the end of this issue, Jason is safe and recovering but he still is in the same mindset, he says, “What the Joker said about how I’ve been on the path to being like them for years… they are not wrong. I don’t want to be like them though. I really don’t.”

It’s like a never-ending wheel of pain with this book. Jason is talking to Barbara when he says that and he is trying to look for comfort in her. And here is where the Jason/Barbara subplot begins and I only bring this up because something that happens in the next issue is based on the kiss that Barbara gave Jason but then was like “that doesn’t mean anything, I was just trying to comfort you”. Johns shouldn’t be allowed to write Barbara and Jason ever again.

Batman: Three Jokers #3

It’s in this issue that we find out the big subplot that Johns has prepared for Jason, are you ready for it? Yup, Jason should stop being the Red Hood because if he keeps it up, he will eventually become the Joker.

I know, I know! Jason would never stop being Red Hood, he is not on a path to become the Joker, that’s crazy! Jason’s Red Hood is a character on its own and he is amazing and just because he has different morals from Batman doesn’t mean that he is a bad guy! Right?...

“I’ll give up being Red Hood for us. I can be something else. Or I can be just Jason.”

To this day I cannot believe that those words supposedly were written by Jason Todd to Barbara Gordon after Barbara rejected him three times. The level of “what the fuck is this” is incredibly high with this one…

This whole book was a mess and I am so glad that it didn’t last longer.

Anyway, that’s it. In conclusion, Jason didn’t let the Joker get under his skin the first time they interacted after he came back from the dead but later when DC decided that UtRH was just too good of a book they came up with stories where Joker does get under Jason’s skin and Jason becomes convinced that he has no free will (or at the very least he doubts his free will) when it comes to him becoming his own man.

As I have said before, that for Jason Todd is a major downgrade. And it's one of the many things that hurts Jason’s characterization in current comics.

#jason todd #Jason Todd #red hood #Red Hood #red hood and the outlaws #red hood outlaw #three jokers #batman under the red hood #dc comics

[teacupcollector]

Loki And His Follower - Finale

Series Masterlist

Summary - When Loki's time on Earth is interrupted by a sudden voice in his head, everyone around him are suddenly suspicious. In order to determine that he is not a danger to those around him with his constant talking to himself they send him to a secluded location in a disguise. What happens when he meets a young woman who is also a  magical practitioner  and has been speaking to Loki all along.

It has been twenty hours since Loki has seen you. The group is now back at the compound and all Loki has done is sit and look out the window. The mixture of the crazy lady's blood and your blood are caked on his face, hands, clothes, and underneath his finger nails. The handcuffs are still on his wrists because the team are unsure if they should take them off fearing the result. All he is thinking about is how last night could have been the last night he could hold you. He is trying to remember how your heartbeat felt against his chest, how smooth the skin of your arms were, the way your hair smelled, even how you drooled on his shirt that night. He wished he could have stayed in that moment forever. 

He felt anger toward himself for putting killing that woman above comforting you in what could be your last moments. He remembers how dull your eyes looked. As if the color was taken right out of them. Your beautiful (E/C) orbs had a glassy film with remnants of tears that haven't fallen over your cheeks yet. The smell of your blood is what got him the most. Normally he would revel in the smell, because it meant that he once again came out of a battle victorious, but now the smell left his stomach churning. The bald lady kept contradicting herself when it came to your chances of survival and all he could do is hope that you will awaken. Suddenly the sound of a pair of footsteps can be heard from behind him. "Loki..." He recognizes the voice of Tony Stark. "Me and Banner tried everything we could." He says and Loki's shoulders tense up. "I think it is best if you say your goodbyes." Tony says. "Is it because I am me?" Loki asks. "What?" "Is it because I am the God you despise so much that you are willing to GIVE UP!" He says shouting and turning toward him. "We did not give up we simply don't know what to do Loki..." Bruce Banner says staying a few paces behind Tony to try and avoid the Gods wrath. "That has never stopped you before! This woman owns my heart and you are willing to let her die because you hate me so much!" Loki says pacing up getting within inches of Tony. "Lo-" "NO you are the worst monster I have ever come across! Take me out of the equation and think about this young woman's life!" Angry tears are brewing in the Gods eyes. "S-She did not deserve to have her last waking moments in a cold dark room full of fear!" He hisses and finally Tony speaks up in his brief pause.

"Her body is fighting itself Loki! Whatever they put into her is tearing her body apart because it is not compatible with her biology!" Tony exclaims. "Her cells are mutating and disintegrating as well as her body decomposing faster then we can work!" Tony says. "You need to say goodbye..." Loki turns away from the pair and brings his hands up to wipe his eyes then nods. "Take me to her please..." He whimpers out and Bruce and Tony only murmur for him to follow. As they walk Loki's steps seem to get heavier and heavier because he know that he will never see you after this. Tony opens the door for Loki as they step inside his lab. He has never seen something so gruesome in his life. You are in a tube laying down and from what he can tell it looks like you are in ice. There are multiple wires connected to you and the tube. Your face and body seem to have sunken in slightly and this time your eyes are closed.

 Despite all this you seem at peace, your face has a soft expression as if you chose to sleep and never wake up.  "Can you open it?" Loki asks. Bruce starts to speak. "I don't th-" "Open it Bruce." Tony says and he only nods. The chill instantly covers the room. "Will you release me please?" Loki asks not taking his eyes off your face. Bruce and Tony give each other a look before Tony appears beside him with a loop of keys unlocking the cuffs. Loki walks a few paces away to grab a chair and sets it next to you. "May I have a few moments of privacy please... Then I would like to be taken back to my cell." He says sorrow present in his tone. "Come on Bruce." Tony says and the pair walks out. Loki takes his time now to examine the rest of your body. You have stitches nearly covering you from head to toe as well as bandages. Loki presses a cold hand to your equally cold body over your chest in hopes of feeling a heartbeat by some miracle. He removes his hand from your chest and moves it to your hand that is closest to him. He holds it rubbing  his thumb across your knuckles before he brings it to his lips and kisses it. Steve is heading down the corridor when he sees both Bruce and Tony with handcuffs in hand. "So Loki is out of the cuffs now?" He leans over toward a viewing window before quickly removing himself. "Yeah..." "What is it Stark? " Steve asks. "It's just I have never seen him like this before." Tony says looking toward the door. "I couldn't give two shits about him, but seeing him like this..." Tony sighs. "I don't think he is as bad as we thought." Bruce nods and says. "He wanted time alone with her before she gets taken. He said he wants to be handcuffed again and to be taken to his cell... Not his room." Steve sighs "Love is a crazy thing. I just never thought I would see it from Loki." Steve says looking down. "She is dead we need to prepare for the worst. I think the cell is the best idea." Steve says only to hear a booming voice from behind him. "My brother will not be put in a cell!" Thor says storming up to the trio. "Can you not see the pain he is in! He is heart broken! You think putting him in a cell is what is best!" Thor bellows. "That is what he wanted point break. He wants to be put back in his cell." Tony says looking up at him. Thor looks away. "He hasn't been this way since mother died... A cell is the worst possible place for him." The group of four look toward the door once again before walking off in separate ways. "Oh my Dove... I don't know how to convey how sorry I am that this happened to you." Loki murmurs between placing kisses on the back of your hand. He places his other hand on the top of your head stroking the stubble of what is left of your hair. His bottom lip quivers as he tries to fight back a sob. The tears he has been holding has finally boiled over. "I should have stayed with you to protect you! I felt that something was wrong but I didn't do anything about it!" He says moving his hand from the top of your head to the side of your face stoking your cheek. "I should have kissed you that night we were eating that heinous pasta." He says with a sad chuckle. "I didn't say anything but you had tomato sauce running down your chin... But I would have kissed you anyway!" Loki leans his forehead against the palm of your hand. "If I knew that the time I spent with you would be the best time of my life I would have never spewed any form of hate toward you." He moves his other hand from your face to the top of your hand and places it on his head. He sits hunched with his head facing your top half with tears running over the bridge of his nose and on to the weird bedding that is inside the tube. 

"I remember you asked me what my favorite color was... The night before this tragedy." He pauses to let out another sob. "I might have said your (H/C) or the color of your lips. They were so kissable, but my true answer would be (E/C)." He says with a laugh. "I would give my soul to see your eyes once more. They say that the eyes are the window to the soul." He says sitting up against being sure to keep ahold of your hand so it wouldn't fall. "I could tell that your soul was troubled, but you were happy. Your soul was so light and full of warmth..." He looks at the brand on the inside of your palm. "I wondered if you looked into me the same way. As in... How did my soul look to you." He wipes his eyes with one of his hands without letting go of yours. "This is suppose to be a goodbye but I can't... I-I can't say goodbye!" He cries out. "I love you my Dove I do! I love you to the bottom of my being!" Loki shouts hoping where ever you are you can hear him. His chest is heaving up and down as he finishes his speech. "I love you." He murmurs as he kisses the inside of your hand against the brand. He goes to set your hand down finally when suddenly  your palm began to glow. One by one the runes along that arm began to light up in a (F/C) color. He gasps and quickly runs out of the room.

"STARK! BANNER!" He shouts down the halls which causes all of the team running toward him. "Something is happening!" They all bombard him with questions. "Follow quickly!" Loki exclaims rushing back to the room. The group gasps when they see the glowing light. "How did you do that!" Tony shouts as Bruce rushes to the monitors. "What ever he did it has made her more stable!" Bruce says in surprise. "Do it again Reindeer Games!" Tony shouts and Loki presses a kiss to your forehead and the symbols along your chest light up. "I think she is going to live brother!" Loki says turning to Thor. "I believe so too brother." Thor responds. Taglist: @yaskna @dark-night-sky-99 @lucymfer @fredsandlokiswhore​

#loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki x witch reader #loki x female reader #sad loki #loki mcu #bruce banner #tony stark #steve rogers #thor odinson #angst #more angst #sad fluff #loki x dead reader #platonic avengers x reader #the avengers #marvel