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animeyanderelover · 3 years

Note

You said you're gonna open requests for a short time today, so are they opened now? Feel free to ignore this if they're not opened yet. Can I request prompt 109 with Kanato please?

You sent them in in the right timing, don’t worry.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationship, unhealthy mindset, possessiveness, obsessiveness, bipolar behavior, chocking, screaming, pushing, violence, vicious behavior

Prompt 109: “I know she’s cute. BUT SHE’S MINE! TOUCH HER AND I’LL KILL YOU!!”

The air had had turned all so sudden so incredibly suffocating, way more than you had ever expected it to be. And given the fact that you had experienced something like this already so often, way too often, it led your lips to wobble and your knees to nearly give in. All you really could do in that moment was staring with wide and teary eyes at the purple-haired boy who was just standing in the doorframe, a weirdly unreadable expression on his face. It made all the nerves in your body go crazy. This wasn't good. He was quiet! Way too quiet for his character. There was no rage, no anger nothing in his eyes. Why was he so emotionless? Shouldn't he be yelling, screaming, hurting someone right now?

Chances were that he would let his ire out on you, something you were terrified off. You hadn't forgotten the last time you had left him unsatisfied and jealous. Your body hadn't forgotten it either, the bruises still not fully healed. Backing away wasn't a good idea either or else you would bump into his brother Ayato. Both were currently doing some sort of glaring contest, Ayato having narrowed his eyes in an annoyed manner and Kanato still having this frightening hollow and penetrating look in them. And you poor victim found yourself stuck between those two, feeling like you were just dust right now since no one of them was currently even noticing your presence. But you didn't dare to move, if you were honest you couldn't even. Your body was neglecting you the ability to move, your instincts clearly stopping you from pulling the attention back on you.

The fact that no one had said anything for a while was even more nerve wrecking, it made it harder to judge what they would do next. All you could suspect was that they might just start attacking each other without you even having time to react. It was so unbelievably silent that you could hear everything right now, thw wind blowing outside the window, the slight breathing of Ayato and Kanato and most of all your own heartbeat which was drumming like crazy against your chest. Could they hear it as well? In your opinion it was painfully loud, but it seemed they were busy with other things.

"That's ridiculous! (y/n), come over here. Now!", you flinched when you heard Ayato speaking for what felt like the first time in ages up, shifting with a weak heart around to him. He didn't even bother to spare you a look, he just continued to glare at his brother, clearly bothered with what Kanato had just said to him. You knew that both of them weren't guys to share, no one from those six was. But if you had to share the ones who were the baddest to deal with, you would give the trophy without a doubt to the triplets, all of them were horrible beings. But for you Kanato had always been the worst. He was incredibly dangerous, more than Ayato, more than Laito.

You just couldn't judge him and that made you feel scared. You never knew how he would react to this or that, if his reaction would be a positive one, if you could call him being bratty and annoying positive, or a bad one, the kind of reaction where he started shouting at you, grabbed you by your throat and pushed you around like you were some ragdoll. He was unhinged, unstable and for that you had never been able to understand him and his way of thinking. He was unpredictable, a joker. With Ayato and Laito you had at least a bit of an easier time to forsee their actions.

But you were scared of them as well, making you hesitate when you heard his demanding tone. Your throat had gone dry, your palms having become disgustingly sweaty so that you started to wipe them on the fabric on your clothes. Should you go to him? But what would Kanato do if you would? On the other hand, what would Ayato do if you wouldn't? "(y/n)." When you heard Kanato's voice, you instantly turned around, an unpleasant feeling creeping up your spine when hearing his voice. It had been a lot less harsh and loud like Ayato's voice had sounded like, but it had this certain something in it that would have managed to give people far less cowardly than you the chills.

You were met with dull purple eyes, a hidden insanity hidden inside of them that made you unconsciously step back a bit, noticed instantly by Kanato judging from the way his eyes shifted to your legs. And he didn't seem to like it one bit, pressing Teddy slightly tighter against his chest. "Y-you aren't trying to leave me for him, do you?"His voice was wavering, you as well as Ayato slowly seeing his hollow facade crumbling. It was an alarming thing to see, making you almost instantly step closer to him, fear taking control over your body, not wanting to anger him.

But this small action led to an instant small enragement from the red-haired boy. "What do you think you're doing, small pancake? Get back here this instant! You belong to Yours Truly!" You froze, mind being torn apart between listening to him or Kanato. "(y/n)." Kanato had stretched his hand out a bit, holding it in your direction. On the first glance it might have looked like a silent plead. But it wasn't the feeling you were getting from him. You could sense it in his eyes. It was a silent ordre, a clear warning to not even think about turning around, to not abandon him for his brother. Or else...

You heard Ayato tsk'ing, clearly getting majorly annoyed with you and the situation. "Stupid thing. Do you seriously think that he can keep you safe from me? Do you think I didn't notice how you keep lingering near him and start avoiding others? Don't tell me you're listening to him now because you're afraid of him." You tensed up when you heard him stepping closer to you, gaze being frozen on the ground. "You're scared, aren't you?" Another step closer, followed by another. How close was he by now?

You got your answer the moment you felt hair brushing against your cheeks, Ayato's face entering from the corner of your eyes your vision. "Do you expect me to care whether you're scared or not? The only reason you were brought here was to serve as a bloodbag, nothing more. You don't get to choose with whom you can stay or not. You don't have any power. I on the other hand have the right to decide over you. And if pain is really the way to make you submissive and obedient, I can give you that even better than he can. You're after all very cute when your face is scrunched up in pain. Should I show you?

You couldn't help tears falling down your face when you suddenly felt his hand wrapping around your throat, starting to squeeze it tightly and causing you to choke on the air. You felt nauseous the moment you saw the grin on his face obviously loving what he was seeing. "See? I can give you just what Kanato gives you all the time. You must like it if you stick close to him for that reason, right? I can make sure that you'll look even cuter when in pain. All for my eyes."

"I know she's cute." You turned your gaze through half-closed eyes to Kanato who was looking at you two with wide eyes, many emotions swimming in them. Ayato looked at him as well, clearly unimpressed by him. "So what?" He gave Kanato a slightly challenging look, pulling you with the hand wrapped around your throat closer to him, making you start seeing black spots.

"BUT SHE'S MINE!" The outburst was all so sudden that it catched you as well as Ayato by surprise, Kanato suddenly appearing right in front of you two, ripping Ayato's hand in a way away that made you fear he might twist your neck in the process and shoved you harshly aside. Your ass was met with the hard ground, making you twist your face a bit when you landed wrongly and started coughing, air suddenly filling your lungs again. "TOUCH HER AND I'LL KILL YOU!!"

You weren't surprised that Kanato hadn't been concerned the least bit about whether he would hurt you or not, having gripped Ayato's clothes and shaking him violently to which Ayato on the other hand tried to free himself, his hands pulling on Kanato's arms in an attempt to make him let go. You slowly crawled away from them, not wanting to risk getting caught in the fight. You better stayed away, especially from Kanato, he looked like he was seriously about to kill Ayato. His one hand had by now been placed right above the boy's throat, threatening to crush his neck at any moment. And Ayato seemed to sense the same thing, looking all of a sudden a bit stressed out.

"Fine then! Giving it a second thought, she's more boring anyways! You can keep that pathetic girl for yourself! She isn't worth all the troubles!" He jerked backwards, making Kanato lose hold on him, stumbling a bit clumsily back before straightening himself up. He turned around, shooting you a sharp glare before leaving that clearly told you that this had been your fault. Ayato hated losing to others. You had this nagging fear that he might try something later on. But you also knew that this was currently the smaller of the two problems.

"You ungrateful bitch! Why would you let him touch you?!" The second Ayato had completely left the room, you were already yanked upwards by Kanato, who looked wrathfully at you, making you burst out in tears once more. "You would have left me for him, wouldn't you?! Admit it!" You quickly shook your head, fearing that he might break your hands if he would add a bit more pressure. "I-I would never. I promise. I don't-don't plan on ever leaving you."

He stared intensely at you, obviously trying to judge whether you were telling the truth or not. The look in his eyes was fearsome, he had unleashed all his unstableness he had kept hidden before. "...I don't believe you."

A huge smile made it's way on his face, one that wasn't comforting at all. It was too big, looking like his mouth was hurting. Next to that it didn't reach his eyes and looked terribly fake to the extent that you felt bill raising up your throat.

"You're a liar. I don't like when people lie to me. And if someone lies, they have to be punished. That's what my mother always used to do to us when we were little." The next thing you knew was a mindbreaking pain filling all your senses.

#yandere diabolik lovers #yandere kanato #yandere kanato sakamaki

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athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit · 3 years

Text

Feral Fatality

(Part 1)

So this has been in my works for a week now. You see, it was a typical day for me scrolling through Tumblr and visiting some....tags, and then a short drabble inspired me to write about a feral reader totally not because I was craving violence and murder no, which reached more than 4k words on the first draft so here we are! Shitty title, I know. The proofread work went over 7k, and it's not even finished yet. Once I'm done posting this and my main orc fic, I will get into the requests so please be patient!

Pairing: Jason Voorhees x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Brief blood and violence at the end of the first part

Contains: Swearing, mentions of neglect and abuse (not graphic)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Screams slit through the twilight as the frigid autumn wind blew harshly through the trees of Camp Crystal Lake. The rustling of bushes and cracking of twigs echoed as foolish teenagers attempted to escape, running for their lives when they were the ones who dared step foot in the place, tarnishing it with their sins.

Jason Voorhees, the innocent kid who died several years ago; pushed to the lake by his bullies and left to drown for being different and unsightly— all because the counselors were busy with their fucking business—, returned as an undead killing machine right after his mother murdered them and died. His sole purpose: to protect the land and purge the people who had no right to be here, sentencing them to a horrendous death.

One by one, they struck the ground, lifeless, either chopped into pieces, beheaded, or stabbed countless times by his trusty machete.

Limbs...ripped off with his bare hands.

The muffled snapping of branches reached your ears as the vehicle's wheels ran over them, stirring you from your nap. You rubbed your chilled skin under your clothes as you looked out of the window, thumping your forehead on the glass when you leaned forward the moment you saw the scenery. Trees, both ancient and young, their leaves varying in hues of green, orange and red, filled your line of sight. It was still early in autumn, your favorite time of the year, not hot but not too cold either. You watched in awe as the warm-colored leaves cascaded down from the branches and down to the ground, some carried by the wind farther from their origin.

The view did its best to distract you from a couple in session a seat before yours. They always seem to do that all the time, regardless of place or occasion.

This was a week-long getaway after graduation, they said.

Nothing but a white lie.

An excuse for the girls to hook up with their campus crushes, a week of fucking and smoking drugs.

You, however, just got invited —forced— by your "friend" Eloiza, the self-proclaimed hottest girl in the entire school, typical captain of the cheerleading squad; blonde and curvy. Her words were much too sugar-coated that even a deaf person could tell she had ulterior motives.

She only planned to use you as a tool to raise her fame. A stepping stone for her own gain.

That wasn't the only reason though.

Everyone knew who you were, but only by your name. News and rumors alike spread like wildfire through gossipy mouths. Your deeds were known throughout campus.

(Y/N)(L/N), top academic competitor and multiple-award winner, a straight-A student for five years in succession. Some believed you were a genius, the rest called you insane.

You wouldn't call yourself a genius though, you did not possess the obsessive need to acquire eternal knowledge and discover the secrets of the universe as most of them do, to effortlessly solve every problem that comes their way.

If that were the case, then you wouldn't be here in the first place.

You only love learning and indulging in the beauty of Mother Nature, plus a handful of hyper-fixations.

Fine, a buttload of hyper-fixations. And such came in handy in various situations.

You were unrivaled, not one of your peers could come close to your level of wit. Many people wished to have a brain like yours, and just as many hated you for even having one, praised you just as much as slandered your name and judged you.

Despite your reputation, the poor school didn't broadcast it, at least every time. The staff probably got tired of repeating the same phrase over and over again. Which caused more than half of the whole campus to never believe you to be the one behind all of that, laughing at your face when you said your name.

"You? The (Y/N) (L/N)? Ha! As if I'd fall for that! Everyone knows how she looks. You're the absolute opposite!"

"You got to be kidding me."

"You're a joker, aren't you? Is this a prank? If so please stop it, don't pretend like you're her."

Yep, and it goes on and on and on. They were right, you didn't look like someone who would win contests or excel in class.

You constantly wore clothes that hid your form, silent unless spoken to or asked to answer, distant and reserved, you preferred the company of books and nature to the rowdiness and prying hands of humans. A sociopath they deemed you. Quite an extreme word to use when you simply wanted to enjoy the only things that made you happy in this living hell.

You only know a handful of people who approached you first-hand and praised you genuinely, even asking for an autograph, which really surprised you.

Yet, they would never understand you even if you explained, because you can't, words evade you when it comes down to voice out what you feel. Even if you can, no one would care. And even if they did? You doubt it was real. Everyone wants to use you, and they seem to believe you'd let them. You didn't trust anyone. The last time you did only left you sobbing on the dirt.

You wanted to be left alone.

To connect with nature and get as far away as possible from your parents. Parents who kept shouting profanities at each other, the main cause for your depression and anxiety levels to skyrocket, the shaking turning into trembling, 7 hours of sleep to barely a blink.

That's why you agreed to go in the first place.

You hated your household—despised it— a mess of broken shards of bottles and ceramics littered your kitchen floor more often than not. You didn't bother cleaning it up anymore, your mother would just waste away her money on more things to break and throw them at your joke of a father when they fought anyway.

Not only that, you thought...No, you believed if you worked hard to be the best and win countless competitions, your parents would give you recognition and reconcile for your sake, but no, no, no. They didn't care one bit about you or your medals, it was as if you were never even included in their lives at all. Even birthday celebrations ceased to exist in everyone's books after your 13th.

So you gave up.

Down into the void, your wishful thinking went, that they'll become better people over time, that the attention and love you deserve will be given one day. Instead, you wallowed yourself in your studies, besting everyone in everything academic. Oh, but you weren't athletic. Far from it. Damn, you were getting thin and sleep-deprived from being neglected, dark circles under your eyes every time you looked at your reflection. People hating your existence wasn't helping, some teachers even suspected you of cheating.

There's no way in hell you'd let yourself get dragged down to end up like them! You were of legal age now, a fresh graduate from high school, you doubt your parents even knew that since they didn't fucking show up on your graduation day. You were moving out of that shithole of a town. Anywhere is better than where they breathed and spat their poison.

And so here you are. Standing in this breath-taking and mysterious place. Camp Crystal Lake, it is named, secluded, barely touched by modernization as it is hidden between mountains and trees as far as the eye could see. Not to mention its namesake, the lake, you imagined it would mirror the sky, be it day or night. You loved it, you adored the fresh, breathable air that went through you the moment you stepped out of the van.

You also knew about him.

Resolved to never go back to that goddamned house, you took everything you had and needed; the special little trinkets you've collected through the years shoved into a box, the few clothes you had, art materials, and your precious books carefully packed inside a big travel bag, along with your stocked up canned goods, convenience food, snacks, and toiletries.

And other, important things.

You hauled your baggage out of the van and got off, immediately moving to the side and away from everyone.

You got used to people ignoring you that you didn't care anymore.

Why waste your time with them when you can have all of it to yourself?

Eloiza led the group into the larger cabins, the others went straight into the lake for a swim. You even notice some teens disappear into the trees, most likely for a quickie.

In return, you stayed out of their way, fully satisfied being invisible and with your own company as you trudged to a cabin, the one you caught a glimpse of earlier in the van. It was a long way's separated from the rest, closest to the forest and hidden behind a few trees.

You were panting when you finally stopped in front of it, clearly not used to walking long distances and carrying stuff near as heavy as your weight.

Upon closer inspection, you found yourself gaping at its appearance. The wooden walls lost their color as they aged, white and brown mushrooms grew on the ground along with green moss sticking to the beams, and a few vines crawling their way up and on the roof. Despite all of that, the cabin looked sturdy still.

There's this "one with nature" vibe that drew you to it, like a string pulling you closer and inviting you. Ominous most would say, but you almost cried when the rich scent of earth and oxygen filled your lungs as you took one big inhale, sighing in content for once. It was a lot smaller compared to the others, but you didn't care. As long as you were left alone with your stuff you were a-okay.

Perfect.

You turned the knob and peeked inside, letting out a small gasp and opening the door wider to see the whole thing.

Old as it is, it was proper and neat, regardless of the tiny cobwebs on the upper corners. A small, square dining table sat in the middle of the first part of the place, two wooden stools placed underneath. There were cupboards on the wall and a simple sink with an empty space to the side. You went to the next room, doorless and separated with but a wall of thick plywood. It had a single bed in the corner, off-white cotton sheets sitting atop, not a wrinkle in sight. No pillow though. There's a decent-sized closet along with a small table on one side of the bed. One of the windows had a hole in the middle, a ray of sunlight streaming in through the cracks. It was too big for the size of a gunshot, so maybe a rock.

A bit hesitant, your fingers traced the wood, feeling the inconsistent texture. When you went through the back door, your smile reached your ears when trunks of trees and bushes greeted you...

Wait, is that what you think it is?

Stepping closer to the treeline, your jaw dropped when you spotted a thicket of fruit-bearing plants past them, gathered in a tiny clearing.

Blueberries.

Purple little cuties poked out of the green shrubs, sporting a vibrant hue that caught your eye. The sun shone overhead and providing the energy they needed. Blueberries managed to grow in the area despite the trees fencing them.

Tempted and suspicious, you crouched down, inspecting the shrub if it really was a blueberry plant and not a deadly doppelganger. Once you were sure it was, (it would be hilarious if you simply died from nighshade poisoning), you plucked one and brought it to your mouth. It was sweeter than you expected, with a slightly bitter aftertaste. You hummed in delight, wiping the juice with your thumb when it dribbled out, staining your finger and lips.

You didn't want to anger anybody. Hell, coming here was already trespassing, so you didn't push your luck and left it alone, hoping they'd forgive you for picking one. They surely didn't look wild with the way they lined up.

You scanned the rest of the area, eventually going back inside to unpack after your little evaluation.

The sun was a hand's away from setting when you finished. Pride swelled in your chest at the work you did, your things stocked and organized with care inside the cabinets and drawers. You won't have to worry about your food for now as cupboards were filled to the brim with them. You also had a decent amount of money left from your savings account that your parents weren't aware of. Prize money, allowance, and the salary you got from doing online jobs all went into it. The camp was a few miles off the road, and a couple more to the nearest gas station with a convenience store. Very far yes, but it's better than living with the people who made you do this in the first place.

You just hoped you wouldn't die walking.

Everything was worth it, anyways. You were free now, at least that's what you think.

You trudged to the bed, eyeing the cushions, wary and a little scared to touch the sheets that appeared to be cleaned just recently, you didn't even lay a finger on them ever since you got inside. Oh, but your tired muscles were screaming to just flump down and relax.

So you did.

You dumped yourself face first and inhaled. It wasn't smelly nor fragrant, just the simple freshness on the cotton fabric. You felt beat but ain't sleepy, yet, so you reached to the drawer beside the bed and pulled out a book to pass the time as you waited for the sun to go down and give way for the moon. Its spine and pages had creases, worn out and yellow-stained from age and use. It was a horror-mystery novel told through a first-person narrative, a story of a middle-aged detective and her Maine coon in their attempts to solve a murder case of a young European lady named Cassandra Chase.

You dozed off in the middle of chapter 21, the part where Dinnie, the cat, discovers a valuable clue to the crime, a rotten limb in the dried basement well.

—

Jason settled down on the stairs of his porch; shoulders relaxed and hunched as he leisurely sharpened his machete with a small whetstone. Lines of sunlight kissed him through the leaves of trees, the birds in the area chirped on their perches, and the grass swayed, gentle, as a cool wind passed by.

His day be so fine. No troublemakers to deal wi—

The alarm rang, announcing unwelcomed arrival. As if a switch flipped inside, he's already on his feet, making his way swiftly to their location.

A new batch of wretched youngsters, another day ruined. Hunting them down makes his blood thrum in his veins, yes, but they soured his mood, just when he was at peace. He's dead set on slaughtering them in the most gruesome ways possible, only then he could go back and enjoy the serenity the nature around him brings.

He surveyed the area, camouflaging with the wilderness, silent as he watched and counted the soon-to-be corpses, his mother's voice at the back of his mind, guiding him.

They decided to go either to the main cabins, or the lake...even into the trees.

All but one.

Jason already planned to cut down the couple later as they lose themselves in the forest, doing nasty, dirty things to his camp. The killer shifted his attention to you, curious as to why you didn't join the lot. Instead, you walked back down the road. He followed and saw you approach the small cabin, separated from the rest, your eyes widened...

Adoration?

You were quiet— except for the little gasps of awe you let out in between pants—as you looked around and over the place. The ones you came with were rowdy and destructive, a complete opposite. He hid as he observed you from afar, moving around to adjust his vision on you. You smiled every time you looked to the trees, he noticed.

Why were you smiling like that? Why did you pick this cabin? Were you planning on defiling it?

The last question in his mind made his blood boil. He'll kill you first if that was the case. That cabin you chose was special, it was where he and his mother used to stay. He occasionally visits that one to keep it clean and free of dust. If you even think of—

Jason, sweetie...look closer. She does not have such intentions.

His mother's words rang in his head. Even from where he stood, he could see what you did inside. You looked a little hesitant, touching and drawing back your hand before letting your fingers feel the wood as if it was something delicate. Despite the initial...shyness? You proceeded to make it your home, somewhat, dropping the large duffel bags you carried on your front and back, and a similarly large roller case on your left. It was as if you planned to stay for a long time.

Jason hears you take a long breath and sigh as you went out the backdoor. You grinned wider when you saw the nature around you. You stepped forward, straight in his direction...

For a moment he thought you saw him, seeing your jaw drop. You moved closer, and he just froze there, until you crouched down.

Oh, his plants.

He watched you as you gently picked a fruit, your gaze...soft. You brought it to your mouth, some of the juice spilling on the side and you wiped it with your thumb.

Cute.

You went back inside and continued to unpack your things, carefully maneuvering around the cabin.

Maybe he'll spare you if you continue to be good. You didn't do anything dirty, yet. It's only a matter of time before the camp is shrouded in darkness and his hunt will begin.

Let's see what you'll do before that happens.

Jason tracked down the three that went into the forest. He knew the place like the back of his hand, and it was easier to pinpoint them as he heard moans.

What he saw was utmost disgusting, two girls pleasuring a male with their mouths in broad daylight.

Kill them, my boy! Such foul beings need to die! Kill them, kill!

He circled them, steps soundless. Jason gripped his machete and brought it down the guy's neck, embedding the weapon into the bark, the head rolled down, oozing with blood, and fell against the women, drenching them in red. Not a single cry left from their mouths as he sliced both with one swing, blood pouring out of their throats and staining the ground. Jason dragged their bodies and tossed them into a pit he dug beforehand, making quick work in burying them.

A swift end. Now he waits.

#jason voorhees x reader #jason x reader #friday the 13th #blood #violence #slatra #lmao #my writing #fiction #horror #slasher x reader #feral reader #slasher x fem!reader #reader insert #slasher fic #slasher x reader fic #jason voorhees #friday the 13th fic

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akimmito · 4 years

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They thought they won #2

Well, here is the second part, I think it was weak in comparison, but it is not terrible either. It is acceptable.

Taken from the indications of @chocolate1721.

I hope you like it. If there are errors, at some point I will correct it.

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Tagged: @dawnwave16 @pirats-pizzacanninibles @mochegato @silvergold-swirl

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On Bruce's recommendation, the girls wait four days before showing up at school. Four days that were used to build a case with the French School Board, collect and deliver physical evidence of abuse and bullying. Tim did his fair share by involving every person who could have been harmed by Lila's lies, getting collaboration from many of those affected (being the victims of the teenager's most outrageous lies).

They also took advantage of those four days to think about what they will do when the chaos with the director and their teacher in charge are set, they will be adrift and that will be unfortunate. Neither of them wants to waste time due to the incompetence of a teacher. The safest option is to request an immediate transfer to another class, preferably with a serious teacher who doesn't allow similar situations.

Marinette also took advantage of those four days to better relate to the Wayne boys, although she has a special connection with Tim (she's sure it wasn't hallucination induced by lack of sleep). They talked about many topics, but found brain games and all kinds of riddles in common (she advantage and led him to Ladybug's reasoning to solve a problem with the most random object possible; the fourth day hhe understood the game when he saw the heroin hit to the villain with a bicycle chain). She even had time to drag Damian to Kagami's house to get to know each other (she realized his mistake when she had to prevent them from killing themselves in the middle of the fight and take Damian to the bakery).

Neither Chloe nor Marinette were excited to see their classmates, but they saw it as a necessary evil to deliver the coup de grace. And that does excite Chloe, that morning she woke up eager to see her revenge come true.

The class had already started when Marinette and Chloe entered the classroom, the two families waiting at the door. Only Bruce Wayne went to the Principal's office to have a talk about responsibility and professionalism.

"Good morning, Miss Bustier," Mariette greets with a kindness that, for her smile, it shows that she is not entirely sincere. The surprised look of the woman only manages to generate irritation in the back of the girl's mind.

"Why have they been missing class? It is very irres..."

Chloe almost jumps on Caline, but is stopped by Richard, who sneaks into the classroom to prevent the young woman from attacking the teacher (however deserved it is). In the back, Tom has an arm over Sabine's shoulder to prevent her from attacking too, his calming touch is enough to discourage her from doing so; Damian snorts and Jason swallows his comment. The class is ready to react when Marinette responds, her brow furrowed and a disappointed look she only gives Chat.

"You abandoned us at the mercy of the Joker in Gotham, we were rescued by the Batclan. You didn't worry or look for us, nor did you bother to call the police and you leave the country without us. "Marinette says and her gaze sharpens towards her teacher.

"Marinette, you need to be more responsible. The Joker is very dangerous and trying to protect two criminals was silly. Furthermore, Lila had to return to Paris to help her mother with her next diplomatic trip. "Caline responds.

Chloe almost got free of Dick and Tim must grab Jason to prevent him from taking out the gun he saw him keep before leaving the hotel. Tom helps to contain his wife and avoid any movement from Damian (who considers that someone so stupid would be more beneficial if she was dead and not simply out of sympathy with the girls).

Bruce arrives just in time to hear Caline's wonderful words, the cheap excuse she gives them to leave two students behind. He stands in front of the woman, managing to intimidate her with his mere presence.

"If the student had previous commitments that clash with the itinerary and its possible setbacks, why was she included in the trip? Two students were in danger, with or without the Joker, Gotham is dangerous on its own and leaving them abandoned with no chance of leaving the country is negligent just for prioritizing one student. What if there hadn't been only two? If it was half your class would you still prioritize that one student? ”Bruce is relentless and doesn't allow her to respond. He's furious, burning with hot anger ready to burn her alive.

They all hold their breath when a purple butterfly appears and heads straight for Bruce, but Marinette gets in the way and lets the Akuma into one of her hair bands, the purple mask appears. Sabine and Chloe break free and start talk with her.

"Maribug, you must fight him. You're stronger than him. ”Chloe grabs her shoulders, but Marinette is focused on her thoughts, listening to Hawkmoths speech.

"You can't let him win. "Sabine entreaty.

Tim also approaches, but says nothing. His gaze meets hers, a sign of recognition and that she is nowhere near being manipulated, but no one else realizes it.

"Yes ... but if you give me those powers, I will go after you and no one else." Mariette smiles at Tim when the butterfly leaves her. Everyone is relieved, nobody wanted an Akuma at that time; the class, on the other hand, is surprised by the ease with which it rejected the butterfly and the white color with which it was released.

Adrien smiles, showing misplaced pride.

"You are amazing, Marinette, that's why you are our everyday Ladybug, you even reject Hawkmoth."

Marinette turns to Adrien, her sense of calm withered by the model's comment.

"I may have rejected it, but it would be better if I wasn't forced to do it in the first place." She frowns at the blonde, who is still smiling completely oblivious to the passive-aggressive tone of the young woman.

"We saw that you can handle it and that ..." A slap silences him, everyone looks at Chloe in surprise.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'RE SO FOOLY! DO YOU KNOW HOW PAINFUL IT IS TO FIGHT AGAINST CONTROL? WHERE HAVE YOUR BRAIN CELLS LEFT, AH? YOU SHOULD GO FOR THEM, YOU'RE UNDERSTANDING NOTHING."

"How dare you, you fucking bitch ?!" Alya gets up ready to hit Chloe, but Jason gets in the way.

"Though it would be amazing to see her take your shit out of you."

"Jason!" Dick scolds him for the choice of words, Jason barely gives him a funny look.

"We have more important matters. "

Tim just denies. Chloe smirks, but returns her attention to what's important.

"When does the School Board arrive?" she smiles an arrogant smile at the teacher, who loses her face color much faster than when Bruce faced her. "What's the matter lawyers of the celebrities abaout Lie-la lied to? They should be here by now. "

"Hah! You're just words, Lila is not a liar and this whole show will explode in your face, Chloe. "Alya answers smugly, sure nothing will happen. She has not even called her father, she has nothing. "Stop wanting to attract attention like that, it's pathetic. "

Lila just frowns, the presence of Bruce Wayne only indicates future problems. Damn to Marinette in her thoughts.

"Wayne's attorneys are here, though, right? "She doesn't need to receive a verbal confirmation, the arrival of the police to the classroom accompanied by two men in suits is enough proof." Yeah, I took so long to convince her to press charges for assault, harassment, and damage to private property, but here we are; They will file lawsuits for destroying Maribug's room and, best of all, we have video evidence and photos of everything destroyed. I appreciate that she's so paranoid that everything important always safeguards her in two layers of security. ”She smirks, after all, the lawyers called the parents of everyone involved first and it's a sight worth appreciating.

The lawyers decide to intervene, unwilling to be part of the girl's delight.

"We regret to inform that the following people should co

"That's a lot, Mari. Don't you think about his parents?"

"Did they think of mine? How much money would it cost to restore my room and all my things? They didn't, I'll not. I'm tired of always turning the other cheek so they hit me too. ”Tim places a hand on her shoulder, before Dick squeezes her into his arms and she laughs, forgetting for a moment the annoyance towards Adrien.

me with us, their parents have already been informed and are waiting: Lila Rossi, Alya Cessaire, Kim Le Chien, Max Kante and Sabrina Raincomprix. We wait for you in the teachers room. "

The officer Raincomprix looks with disappointment at his daughter and only gestures for her to follow them, he will leave his other officers in charge to arrest the teacher for child abuse and neglect.

Everything from there is chaos, the police officers take the teacher after telling her their rights and the class gets out of control, Adrien just watches his friends go towards an inevitable demand. Look at Marinette, she looks indifferent to the facts; He doesn't understand how everything got to the point of involving lawyers.

"Marinette, are you serious?"

"Seriously what, Agreste?" Marinette is hard in her treatment towards him, Chloe won the blow to him, but nobody will gain the words to him. Damian frowns at the blonde, waiting for him to say something that will bury him a thousand meters underground.

Everyone is waiting, the students in the Bustier class don't understand how everything got to that point. They are surprised, but also embarrassed for not noticing Marinette's absence, because despite not being the sweet girl they knew (and she's, but not with them), she would have looked for them and would has confronted whoever it was to find them. They want to say something, but they have a lump in their throats. Knowing that there will be legal problems for the things that they considered insignificant for Marinette, because they believed that the girl was worse ... Actually, it's the logical solution if someone is attacking you, especially if you have real evidence. So why did Lila refuse to stop the problem if she had as much evidence as she claimed?

Of course, even they can say that Adrien's question is totally out of place.

"Are you really going to sue them? They are your f..."

"They are not my friends. They destroyed my room, Agreste, they destroyed my work. Do you know how much the designs cost? Your father is a designer, you should know… I had to do everything again and put the materials that were lost to complete the works FROM MY POCKET. In a week I did a full month's work… ”Marinette replicate Tim's angry expression, making Adrien nervous by the annoyed glances that are directed at him. "And I'll make them give back every penny of the damaged material. "

"That's a lot, Mari. Don't you think about his parents?"

"Look, Adrinkis, if they don't learn that their actions have consequences now, they'll just keep it up and eventually go to prison for something like that. You imagine? It would be wonderful to see it, sure, but that's not the point here."

"But…"

"If you say something that could come out of Bustier's mouth, I'll hit you again, and this time it will be with my fist." Adrien raises his hands and is silent. "And that would be very little, seeing that you knew everything and preferred to remain silent. Although they were not subtle when they attack on Maribug. You validated it and that, darling, is a thousand times worse than having fallen into the clutches of a liar. "

"Did you know?" Nino asks, he is not entirely sure what is true or lie, but if it's true that Lila is a liar (he is already assured that she is a bully) and his best friend has known all that time, oh, the pain. He already feel bad enough in the whole uncertain situation.

At some point, Sabine and Tom go out to meet the parents of the boys who destroyed their daughter's room. They must deal with it.

"I don't understand why you care so much about these ceporros, they are not worth your time." Damian looks deathly at everyone, who seems truly unintelligent if their idiot faces are an indication of their IQ. Dick can't help but snort.

"What?" Nathaniel is the only one who has a verbal reaction to what was said, he didn't understand the word, but he assumes that it was an insult.

"You see?"

"Yeah..." Marinette sighs and smiles at the boy, who walks away from her with an expression of disgust.

"Come on, you like her." Dick doesn't allow him to walk away and hugs him by the shoulders with an amused but affectionate smile. He has noticed his behavior around her, actively looking for her because he considers her nice, in a way; the same way he came to connect with the Teen Titans, so it was with her. He found something in common as an initial union and in four days, a record, he managed to form a linkage (small, but it exists).

"Now. I think we should go for a coffee. ”Tim approaches Marinette and whispers in her ear, she nods in response. "But before, if you are so kind to check twitter, in the @NotAddictedToCoffee account you will find a link to an article in the France International Journal where they express the worrying situation of parental neglect, I think you will find it interesting. Maybe you recognize the case they are exposing... So, coffee?" He turns to Marinette and she smiles. His job is done, pity for Chloe who wanted a true social massacre and they won't even let her be present for she watches the lives of the defendants break in front of them. Oh, but the Wayne boys are sure to be able to access the surveillance cameras in the teacher's lounge. She turns to the only one who knows how to help her, Jason.

"Hey, Todd. I need your help. ”He turns to her with a raised eyebrow, she gestures for him to lean. "I want access to the surveillance cameras in the teachers' room, can you? "

"Do you want to see their teary faces at the lawsuit?"

"Obviously. "

The two smile and as casually as they can after a suspicious conversation, they leave the classroom. Richard follows them to prevent them from causing trouble.

While all the students take out their phones to confirm.

Marinette and Tim also leave, followed by Damian. Only Bruce stays for a moment, but then decides it's best to notify a teacher for review.

Adrien knows from the beginning who the person in the example is, the implication was clear. All the time they read, an awkward silence surrounds them, a teacher arrives while they are busy on their phones.

"Very good. I will be in charge until the Board of Education decides what will happen to the class. "The class pays no real attention. They are focused watching the approach presented in the article, where they explicain how neglect causes children to seek any type of validation going to any extreme, without it being exactly something to justify the person's actions and that should be treated with a psychologist to avoid It gets out of control and affects the lives of those around you.

There is even a cited psychologist and an expert in criminal pathologies. Everyone is livid the more they read, it's an extensive and very detailed article that aims to raise awareness, but above all, expose Lila in a subtle way to avoid repercussions for publicly humiliating her, now it's a shadow that will not go away and will remain in the criminal files of the girl, which is enough to keep an eye on her (especially with the demands of some people who are almost affected by those lies).

"It was Lila, wasn't it?" Someone asks.

"Yes ... how strong.And Marinette, oh God, I'm not surprised that she hates us. "

"Guys, Marinette doesn't hate us. She's too good for that. "Adrien tries to reassure his companions.

"You have no right, Adrien! You knew it, man, you knew it! And did you let him use us like that?" Nino now is experiencing true treason. He feel very hurt.

"I wasn't hurting anyone ..."

"AND WHAT ARE THESE DEMANDS?! JOKES?! REACT, ADRIEN. HE LIED US AND HANDLED TO THE POINT OF ACHIEVING THAT FOUR OF OUR COMPANIONS DID SOMETHING ILLEGAL. THEY COULD GO TO PRISON FOR INVASION AND DAMAGE TO PRIVATE PROPERTY!" Nino has jumped on Adrien by grabbing his shirt, he could cry right now.

"Dammit, Agreste. Were you always so stupid?"

"Youngs, this behavior will lead to a sanction in your school record. The Board of Education will personally take care of you if you continue to display hostile behavior. "

"Whatever. Anyway, we're screwed. We hurt the only person who was always unconditional with us. "Juleka is clear with her words and regrets not having listened to her brother, she should have known, Luka is always right.

Everyone is silent, being aware of the situation more than others times.

"She will forgive us..."

"WHAT DO YOU HAVE IN YOUR MIND?! AIR?! Nothing we can offer her could make she forgive us, besides, did you see your new friends? She doesn't need us, least of all with the boyfriend who got herself in just five days. "Alix is realistic, overwhelmingly realistic.

Rose allows herself to cry, she wasn't actively hostile, but she knows she was purposely ignoring her under pressure from others.

"Guys…"

"Look, Agreste, don't speak to us again unless you mature. You're the worst thing in this whole thing… I can't forgive you and I'm sure you're the last person Marinette would forgive, heck, surely one day she could forgive Lila, but you, ha, never. "Alix is scathing in her words breaking Adrien's heart, though he refuses to believe that.

While in the park, Marinette guides Tim to one of her favorite cafes. She tells him about the different embarrassing moments that went through her awkwardness and he, in return, explains uncomfortable moments.

Marinette feels good, she still has to remove Adrien's Plagg ring, but at the moment, she feels good. She can face whatever comes.

-----

Thanks for reading!

#timari #Timinette #tim x marinette #maribat #Maribat Au #ml x dc #adrien salt

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ajokeformur-ray · 5 years

Text

Two Hungry Souls // Arthur Fleck x Reader // soft comfort.

Written for @anti-peach in a time of great need. Darling, I hope this helps you. I truly do.

Summary: What I need is some cuddles. Since he's also touch starved (clearly much more than I am), I'd love just some intimate moments where it's meaningful contact with sweet words thrown it. Conversation about how lack of love and intimacy hurts and how happy we are to have found each other. Maybe its like the first time in the relationship either have been ready for intimate contact. Nothing smutty obviously, but just like- sweet stuff.

Word count: 1, 675.

This smol bean look at him ughhhhh~ imagine being blessed enough to wake up to this every day! <3

“Hey, Arthur?” You called from where you were settled in bed, leaning against the headboard. “The Murray Show is on! Hurry up~” You turned the last word upwards into a sing song voice and you smiled despite your overall mood at the sound of dishes being shoved unceremoniously into the sink and the quick padding of his bare feet across the apartment’s threadbare carpet.

“Yay, Murray!” Arthur’s smile was full faced and natural, his eyes glowing as he threw himself down beside you on the bed, the mattress bouncing slightly with the force of his enthusiasm. His voice was soft and his tone childlike, filled to the brim with excitement. He loved the Murray show, even the reruns. His shoulder touched your fleshier one as he sunk into the mattress, and he jerked away as if he had burned you, his eyes quickly shooting to yours to gauge your reaction.

“It’s okay,” You smiled, the ghost of his brief yet welcomed touch still haunting your skin in the form of goose pimples. “You can lean against me.”

Arthur frowned gently, the crease in his brow furrowed. “N-no i-it’s okay, I don’t - “ He cleared his throat and tried again, “Don’t wanna bother you.”

“It’s hardly a bother if I invited you, is it?”

Arthur’s eyes searched yours earnestly. A slow, wide smile spread across his emaciated face as he realised slowly and with much disbelief that you were being serious. You wanted him to touch you. Even in the innocent context that it was meant in did it spread a blush like wild fire across his face.

“Can we...” Arthur leaned against your shoulder again, gently easing his weight onto you like he was afraid you were a delusion, like he would fall across the bed holding nothing but the cold, empty air. When at last was his weight fully against your side did he breathe a quiet sigh of relief.

As your eyes fluttered closed - such a simple touch could leave your head spinning - you decided that you wanted more.

It hadn’t escaped your notice that Arthur hadn’t finished his question and you also didn’t fail to see that almost subconsciously was he leaning further into you, trying to get as close as he physically could. He was only wearing charcoal grey trousers, leaving his top half naked. The material of your green zip up hoodie was a comforting sensation against Arthur’s tired, worn down and bruised skin.

“’Can we’ what, honey?” Tentatively did you reach out a hand to thread your fingers through Arthur’s own, squeezing his hand gently in yours. You squeezed a little harder this time as you silently encouraged Arthur to say what he wanted. It was something you were both learning alongside each other; to ask when you wanted something. So used were you to being denied by yourselves and by others that being able to ask and to receive was an entirely novel concept which you both adored having found in the other.

“Can we cuddle?”

Oh, help you, that was exactly what you wanted. “Yes!” The word ripped from your lips before you even fully registered Arthur’s words, and his answering beam had you positively glowing as he pulled you into his arms. The opening instrumental of the Murray Show started to play as Arthur took you into his arms, your head easily finding his chest. Your ears immediately found his heart beat and you pressed down, wanting to hear your most favourite sound like it was inside your own mind; a tattoo inside the part of the brain that remembered sounds and tortured you with refrains of unfinished songs you could no longer remember the name of.

Arthur’s small chuckle and his muttered “woah” as you got comfortable without your conscious mind telling you to slow down, to ask if it was okay, to ask if Arthur was okay with this made you pause, but his hand found your dyed hair, his slender fingers gently untangling any knots it encountered. “It’s okay, sweetheart.” His voice was so quiet, so intimate, that it made that long since neglected, ignored part of your heart sing in amazement. “Take what you want from me. It’s all yours if you want it.”

You pulled your head up from his chest somewhat reluctantly to look up at him. “What about you? What do you want?”

With an awkward bend to his spine did Arthur press a lingering, tender kiss to your forehead. “S’okay,” He hummed, “I’ve got everything I need right here.” Emphatically did he kiss your forehead again, his arms tightening around you as if he was afraid that you would leave him. Nothing could hurt him more than his fear of losing you in any meaning of the term. You were his double edged blade - you were his happiness but you could also craft his doom if you so chose. He was the same for you and carefully did you keep each other on the same side of the line - the side where you carved your lives out together, creating a person who makes you believe that everything the world tries to tell you isn’t real, is real - that everything is true. Love did exist in its purest form - you were cuddled up to him right now, your head rising and falling gently with his every breath, his heartbeat in your ear and his arms wrapped around you cosily.

A soft noise left your throat but you pushed it down, blinked the tears away before they fell, before Arthur felt them against his warm, soft skin, and just enjoyed the moment of feeling Arthur under you, his skin on yours and his lips in your hair, breathing you in, and you just sunk into the feeling of being loved and being in love the way you sink into a hot bath; slowly, carefully in case you get scalded, and then all at once with a full bodied sigh of quiet relief.

As the show was half way done and the adverts played across the television did you raise your head to look at Arthur. You turned, blocking his view of the television screen. Arthur’s hands dropped to your plush hips as he squeezed gently, just looking at you.

“I’m so happy we found each other.” You leaned forward to press a kiss to his cheek, coming forward even more to rest your forehead against his.

“I never dared to think - “ Arthur couldn’t say that he had never dared to dream, because he had. Oh, you both had yearned and dreamed of meeting someone like the other, of meeting someone who loved you as fiercely and as strongly as you loved them, but in your pain and your sorrow, that weird numb feeling which stole all sense of time and direction, had you been forced to learn the true meaning of patience. Finding each other quite by chance had been no reward, but it had been a simple case of being in the right place at the right time, a chance encounter which had led to the most beautiful, devastating relationship you had ever experienced or would ever experience again.

“I thought I wasn’t able to be loved.” You whispered quietly, as if you were afraid that speaking the words which so often haunted you would be drawn into reality; that even speaking them makes the sentiment real. It was a fear Arthur knew all too well and immediately did his hands move from your hips to cup your face in his hands. His hands were hot against your skin, and as the instrumental sounded out from the old television again to announce that The Murray Show was continuing did he tilt his head to kiss you. His lips were soft, warm and dry against your own. Even here in the bed, cuddled up under the duvet and watching television together, your bodies touching, there was no thought of sex. There was only sympathy, tenderness, love and affection and the new but so welcomed knowledge that you and Arthur were in love and would always be in love.

“No, angel,” Arthur shook his head, your forehead tingling as his rubbed against yours with the movement. “Don’t ever think that. I won’t let you think that.”

“But - “

“No,” Arthur sighed out the word, his breath washing gently over your face, you pulled back slightly, just enough to nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck. His hands slid down your face and came to wrap around your back. He hugged you tightly to him, the both of you sighing in various degrees of relief and love, “It’s not you that can’t love or be loved. It’s the world. Look what it’s done to you, to both of us. It’s,” He sighed deeply, his ribs becoming more prominent against his skin as he inhaled, and then becoming less so as he exhaled; he was so thin. “It’s crazy.” The last word became another sigh, almost as if Arthur had run out of steam.

Perhaps he had.

In any case, as you both got settled down again, finding joy in such a simple pleasure; touching and being touched by another living person, though the force of the gravity of the love you held for one another was so strong that everything was amplified. Sometimes you felt so much love it was like you physically couldn’t handle it and that it was going to burst forth from you uncontrollably. Sometimes it did and you were left with tears running down your face as you thought about Arthur and all that he meant to you.

As the Murray show came to a close and the television played another old re run of a different stand up show did the two of you stay together, basking in the love which you both had thought would never be yours.

But the old saying, as annoying and cliche as it was, was true:

Never say never.

The Arthur Fleck/Joker Defense Squad @writings-of-a-gen-z @x-avantgarde-x @insomniabird @mavalenovaninagavi @itwasrealenough @morrisonmercurymalek @rand0ms-fand0ms @rafaelina-casillas @aclownthing @rebs-doom @vivft @help-i-am-obssessed@autumnaffection @taintednihilist @vladtoly @mg-woolf99@misstgrey92 @that-s-life @dopey-girl-blogs @seeking-dreamland @sweetheart-syndrome @heartxfdesire @xmusichealsthesoulx @0callmejude0 @the-one-that-likes-riddles @hannibalsslut @folliaght @freeeshavacadoo @bingewatchingmylifegoby @unlovedbyeveryoneandeverything @okamiredfoxx @sp0okysp0oky @the-pandorabox @mardema @jibanyyan @honeyflvredcoughdrop @emissarydecksetter @jokerfleckk @epidendroideae @chuuntas @stillmabel @pumpkinpeyes @onehystericalqueenposts @the-jokers-wolf @nalsswa @justahyena @arianatheangelworld @soullessblondbitch @gothamslittlejester @twentyonestarrynights @sirianfromsixties @kissmeclownman @joker-is-my-hero @lazyloosah @lovesickkloxx @ladylovelyluna @live-love-loki @clownerybbxx @tragicarthur @anmach123 @rommie-chan @arthurflock @lucyboytom @anti-peach @ immortal-bi-bitch @hearthurfleck @crazieroutthere @curlystark @hailmary-yramliah @sagyunaro @playinthedarktillitsgoldenagain @jokeringcutio @xenthefox @mijachula

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littlesliceofmarvel · 5 years

Text

Manipulating a God | chpt. four

Synopsis: Trying to break the information out of Loki during the attack of 2012 wasn’t exactly the easiest task, but it was a challenge you were willing to take head on. So, what happened when a master manipulator tried to get information from the God of Mischief?

Series warnings: Swearing, mentions of violence, blood and gore

Pairings: Stark!Reader x Loki

A/N: sooooo. i am sooooo sorry it has been so long. there have been many personal/school/work issues the past few weeks and i have neglected this. :( But, I am back and very excited to continue. So, i hope you all enjoy and thanks sososo much for you patience i love you all. xoxoxoxoxo

Since agreeing to the case of investigating Loki, the entire team had been throwing tidbits and important information your way any chance they could get. You told them you were listening, jotting down everything in your mental notepad, but honestly, you were more confident about the whole thing than they thought. Thor was the only one who seemed to believe you could handle it yourself. Of course, he didn’t view Loki as a murderer the same way everyone else did, but he was also the one who really knew what Loki was capable of.

Thor told you a lot about Loki’s history and childhood; a frost giant, taken in by Odin, given the impression that he could eventually rule, living in incredible self-doubt, all that jazz. Small, personal things you hadn’t found on Google. You debated questioning him about the whole ‘Loki fucking a giant wolf’ thing but figured that that wasn’t information you needed - nor wanted - to know.

Tony on the other hand wanted to stop you as best as he could. He even tried locking you in your room once or twice (or five times.) Of course, he was fully on board with dragging Loki through verbal (and probably physical) Hell to get information that was desired, but he was worried you would fall victim to his lies and lose your mind, and in his words ‘have a Joker-like descent into madness.’

You couldn’t say you had the same vision, but we all know Tony can be quite the drama queen.

Steve, who you now trusted more than you thought you could, told you he’d be there for you if ever you needed help. Apparently being a part of the second World War could help this situation, so he offered you some strange advice on how to hold your ground. Your favorite, for example, was; “if ever he tells you he’s going to be a wonderful ruler, don’t trust him, Hitler said the same.” Steve had good intentions, sure, but his constant reminiscing made you feel as if you were a child listening to their grandfather speak about how ‘getting to school was so much harder in my day.’

Natasha, who was quite trained in the field of manipulation as well, gave you some tips she learnt in her mysterious past - some of which you already knew. Always form a connection. Listen to them. Don’t put them down if you want them to trust you. Simple things that worked wonders. Things you had used before, mostly on Tony, but they worked either way.

Sure, Loki was of another world, and he was the infamous God of Mischief. So, he had an obvious advantage over you, and you’d admit, a part of you was worried that he wouldn’t fall for you tactics and eventually be the one to drag you down to the deep dark depths. But, you were willing to take this challenge head on and nothing was going to stop you. For now, at least. If ever Loki dug his claws into your lungs to the point where you were gasping for breath and surrender was the only option, you’d opt out. But your goal was to not let it get to that point.

You hadn’t actually gotten the chance to speak one on one with Loki since his capturing, but Fury gave you a rundown of his so-called ‘prison’ chamber to ensure your safety. Which button to press if Loki went ballistic, where the security cameras were hidden out, which button to press to drop the cage - the basics. He also told you there’d always be someone listening in at all times, so if ever there was danger and you somehow didn’t sense it, you wouldn’t be alone.

But finally, today was your first day in getting to start breaking him down, and a part of you was slightly looking forward to it. On the countless times you had used your manipulative tactics to gain information from people in order to save your slightly self-sacrifical brother, none of it felt like it was up to the standard of actually being of worldly, even grave importance. The information you were trying to get from this guy was going to be do-or-die, and the sadistic side of you was slightly exhilarated at the thought.

“Alright, Y/N, are you ready to start? Remember, I’ll be watching everything,” Fury warned as if you were his daughter and about to go hang out with someone of the opposite sex for the first time.

“Yes, dad, I know you’ll be watching,” you reassured him, following him into the room where Loki was being kept, the loud thud of your overly-eager footsteps startling the man at the computer when you entered the room.

The dark, circular room was surrounding by computers, machines, pipes, wires, anything technological that you could think of. The only light source, though, seemed to be coming from the glowing white cage in the center of the room. The overwhelming scent of metal was almost aggressively jabbing at your nostrils, but you weren’t too affected - this is what Tony usually smells like after his Iron Man expeditions. You eventually turned your attention to the man standing in the center of the room.

When your eyes landed on him, you ended up staring more than you wanted. He looked so much worse than the first time you saw him. His pale, white complexion looked almost green, the deep indent of his eyes and cheekbones resembled the deepest craters and the pale blue of his eyes dulled down to a lifeless grey. His hair was messier, the little points at the end no longer bouncy, almost looking discouraged. You know, if it were possible for hair to have that emotion.

Fury had dismissed himself quietly and walked back out the same door, leaving you and Loki glaring at each other. You could tell he was reading you the same way you were him. His long cloak stayed put on his shoulders, but somehow, it looked just as dead as the rest of him.

“So, is this the best Fury has to offer?” His sultry voice spiked your ears, and you almost forgot you were here to actually speak to him, the staring contest feeling like it had lasted eight years.

“If anything, I think I’m the best Fury has. Period.” You shrugged, eyeing the small metal chair placed in front of his cell. You slowly walked over to it, fully aware of the God’s undivided attention following your every move.

He chuckled lowly at your comment as you sat down, “So, to what do I owe this insufferable thrill?”

Insufferable thrill?

“I’d like to think of myself as an angelic pleasure, but whatever suits your fancy,” you replied, crossing your legs and leaning back against the cold metallic chair, brushing past Loki’s insult.

Remember: don’t let him affect you.

“Why are you here?” He quipped, the teasing tone of his voice gone as he sat down in his cell, eyes boring into you as he searched for his answers.

Your mind thought up of something to justify your presence, “Uh - is it true you fucked a giant wolf?”

Smooth. Real smooth.

“Where did you hear this?” He asked, slightly more amused than he had previously been. His lips formed upwards into a subtle smirk, slightly confirming your question which once again, you didn’t really want an answer to.

“Never mind, uh, I actually have something serious I want to ask you,” you brushed past your initial awkward question, trying to set the tone that you were going to ask the questions around here and not the other way around.

He raised his hand as if to say ‘go ahead,’ leading you to proceed with your so-called interrogation.

“What’s the interest in Earth?” You found yourself asking, out of both curiosity and in following with Fury’s plan. Loki leaned back against the glass, crossing his arms as he took in your question.

He seemed to ponder, “Have we not gone over the cockroach metaphor--”

“Yeah, yeah, we have,” you rolled your eyes, “but seriously, out of all the galaxies and planets that have life and resources, what is it with out little home that’s caught your specific attention?”

His face seemed to drop slightly as you said ‘your’ - almost as if referring to the attack as ‘his’ had somehow upset him. He looked down to the ground, uncrossing his arms before making eye contact once more.

“Earth has something - something very valuable, priceless, something we’ve been looking for.”

If you didn’t know better, you’d think his tone was somewhat luring - as if he wanted you to ask for more information, but at the same time, wanted you to stay away from the details. It didn’t really make senseYou scanned him with your eyes once more. His body was slouched, showing vulnerability. If anything, this was way too easy. He had to be playing you somehow.

“What have we got that you want? Obama? Maybe some chicken wings?”

Loki scoffed, “No, you dim-wit. Something much more valuable than some Earthling. Or cheap food. Besides, your puny human brain wouldn’t be able to comprehend the power that I could find here.”

You made a mental note to bring that exact quote up to Fury later - the tone of Loki’s voice led you to believe there was subtext or some sort of hidden meaning that you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“And what is this ‘power’ you speak of? Spill the tea, Loki,” you responded, leaning forward in your chair to listen better. Sure, you could hear just fine from the previous position you were in, but your subconscious says otherwise.

“As if I’d tell you,” he rolled his eyes once more, “I know Fury’s sent you here just to get information from me, but it won’t work that easy, I know they’re all listening in.” A smirk made its way onto his lips as he caught onto your act.

You knew Loki would catch on to what you were doing eventually - I mean, you were here to get information, and that was obvious, but a part of you felt as if you had already failed your little quest and it hadn’t even been ten minutes. But honestly, what else was he supposed to think with you coming in here and asking questions? You were here to get information.

Struggling to find your next words, you started laughing. Loki raised an eyebrow in confusion, looking around to check if there was some sort of joke he hadn’t seen.

“Ha, you think that’s why I’m here? To just wait around and work with what you’ve got at your pace?” you toned down the laughter slightly, regaining your breath, “Please, we wouldn’t go through that much trouble, we just want you dead. Or gone. Fury’s already planned the ten thousand ways he could behead you. No, no, we’re not that desperate, nor are you that important. I’m here because once I get framed with murder for ripping you apart, I’ll be able to justify it.”

Loki’s smirk dropped, the amusement disappearing from his eyes, “What did you just say to me?”

Chuckling once more, you raised an eyebrow at him, “What? Don’t like it when someone talks back to you, Mister Hot-Shot?” you leaned back in the chair, “Get used to it.”

Loki let out a sassed-filled sigh, dropping his shoulders as if he had been scolded, and started to mumble what sounded like, “No, it was just unnecessary.”

Now it was your turn to scoff as Loki took offence, looking like a small child who had been denied cookies before dinner. Your amusement spiked at his behaviour, his avoidance of eye contact being the cherry on top.

“You’re such a child,” you remarked, the unmissable pout disappearing from his lips, his eyes snapped back up to you as he stood up to defend himself.

“A child? Please, I’m over a thousand years old, have experienced wars, loss, have wrecked havoc - I have seen things your eyes can’t even begin to comprehend, and I am a God,” he was now right in front of you, of course separated by glass, but intimidating nonetheless, “Do not refer to me as a child--”

“You don’t have to be so touchy,” you smirked, standing up as well, “Sit down.”

Not used to taking commands, Loki blinked multiple times as he registered your words, practically discarding everything he just said about himself. Silently, he sat back down, leaving you to mentally swim around in victory.

“Now, here’s what’s going to happen, Loki,” you placed your hands behind your back (you felt like Fury) as you started to walk around the circular cell, Loki’s eyes glued to you, “You are going to tell me what’s going on. I don’t care how much you think your honour and God-liness is going to prevent that - I will eventually get the answers I’m looking for. Now, you can either cooperate and get yourself sent safely back to Asgard - or we can do this the hard way - and believe me, with a team of enhanced superheroes who have a lot of fucking built-up anger and long-lasting unresolved issues, I can’t see that as being fun for you. Unless, of course, you’ve got some sort of dark sadistic torture kink, that is.”

You had made your way around the whole cell by now and were standing by the door, Loki’s eyes still stuck on you like flex tape, his mouth slightly open. To say you were basking like a champion would be an understatement. You felt over the fucking moon right now, having left the God of Mischief speechless on your first day of your mission. His lips formed into a smirk once he caught up to what you had said.

A small smirk formed on your lips too as you turned away, “Anyways, I need to go eat, my stomach’s been gurgling for a while now, so whenever I return, you can feel free to give me what I’m looking for. Have a lovely evening, Loki.”

You swayed in pride as you walked out of the room, Loki not uttering another word as you disappeared from his sight. Part of you felt as if you could have stuck around a little more to apply a bit more pressure, but at the same time, you didn’t want him thinking you were giving him all of your attention. He’d probably love that too much.

Making your way back into the main control room, you noticed Tony, Steve, and Thor huddled around the table, probably having watched your encounter with the dark-haired man. Fury stood not far away, hands clasped behind his back, his eye on you as you entered the room.

“How’d I do on my first day, boss?” You asked, a small smile playing at your lips. Fury sighed, looking over to Tony who had now stood up.

“Well, you were only in there for twenty minutes, so it was short--” Fury began speaking until he was cut off by Tony’s obnoxiously loud voice.

“I didn’t realize how much of a badass you were, lil sis,” he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, leaning in to say the last part to you instead of yelling it to the whole room, “You make me proud.”

You chuckled, leaning in to his touch, “Gee, thanks big brother.”

“As I was saying,” Fury regained your attention, “It was short, but effective. You’ve left him thinking.”

Fury pointed to the screen which displayed the room you were just in. Loki was sitting in the same position, his eyes still glued to the door that you walked out of not five minutes ago, that damed smirk still on his lips.

“What can I say? I have that effect on men,” you smirked, a strange wave of confidence coming over you from who knows where. Fury groaned slightly, ignoring your comment. Tony played the exact same reaction.

“You’ve messed with his mind, that’s a good first step. But, you’re going to have to be more logical than emotional from now on. You got this.”

You grinned, patting Fury on the shoulder as you made your way to the small array of snacks on the table. You couldn’t lie, a part of you was left thinking about Loki too. You didn’t really like it, but at the same time, it helped you process what had just happened. You remembered the mental note you had made to yourself while talking to Loki, but figured you’d bring it up once your stomach got food. Fury’s ears were probably dealing with a lot right now since Maria just dragged him away, blabbing about some computer errors.

Thankfully, someone had brought out some food (finally) and you were grabbing just about everything you could - salad, crackers, cheese, whatever was in front of you. If this was what being aboard the helicarrier brought you, maybe you could live with it.

For now, you continued to think about what you were going to go over with Loki tomorrow, and hoping that things would work out much better now that you stood your ground.

You were proud of yourself too, in all honesty. Loki’s shock to your statement might have just been some sort of game, but at the same time, you had the guts to say it. That’s what mattered, and that’s what was important.

Fury’s words echoed into your head as Tony started a conversation with Thor about how hotdogs weren’t sandwiches.

You got this.

Damn right, you did.

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babsxkean · 4 years

Text

the sea of my own doubt

Endlessly, For you I'll always wait, Caught in the waves of hesitation, Lost in the sea of my own doubt, Endlessly, For you I'll always wait, For you I'll always wait

who: barbara kean-gordon, carmine falcone, featuring mentions of @twxcethetrouble

when: june 14, 2020 (barbara’s 43rd birthday)

where: carmine falcone’s mansion, the kean-gordon family home

barbara asks carmine falcone for a favor, only to find a surprise birthday present (or two) when she gets home.

tw: death, brief allusion to body issues

On the morning of her 43rd birthday, Barbara Kean-Gordon woke up, fed and dressed her infant son, and left him with a babysitter.

She drove out of town, to the elegant manors flung out over the acreage that remained between the city limits and the state border. Pulling up to a pair of wrought iron gates, she didn’t have to stop -- they opened smoothly for her, because he knew she was coming.

The winding, oak-lined driveway was familiar, not only because she had visited this particular house before, but also because it reminded her of the one she had grow up in. Her family also had deep roots in Gotham, going back to the founding of the city. She had never quite known where their wealth had come from, at first with the innocence of a child accepting her world for what it was, and later simply due to the fact that she became increasingly sure it was better not to know.

She -- finally -- reached the end of the driveway, and before she could open the door herself, a uniformed butler had materialized and done so for her. “He’s expecting me?” Barbara pressed, because in these circumstances it certainly didn’t hurt to be sure, and the man nodded.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He led her inside, and as they crossed the marble entryway, Barbara felt, fleetingly and faintly, like herself for the first time in days. There was something about the sound of heels on a hard floor that she had always loved. It made her feel powerful and in control.

She was shown into a parlor near the back of the house. A swinging door beyond must have led to the kitchen -- she could smell something baking, a touch of cinnamon swirling through the air. The butler pulled out a chair at a table by the window, and she sat. In the blink of an eye, there was a cup of tea in front of her, complete with a small pitcher of milk, a bottle of honey and a sugarbowl.

“My goodness, you’re expedient,” she murmured. The butler only smiled blandly before withdrawing from the room.

She was alone only for a few moments before the swinging door opened, and Carmine Falcone filled the doorway.

He still cut an imposing figure, even at his age, she thought. Tall and broad-shouldered, his solemn face enlivened by bright blue eyes, he was impeccably dressed, as always. She wondered if he had put on the beautiful, three-piece Italian suit just for her, or if this was just what he wore every day.

“Barbara,” he said, and reached for her hand, pressing a kiss to her fingers. “I am so very sorry for your loss, my dear. I knew your parents for many years, and as for Jim…”

Her chest tightened, and Carmine gently placed her hand back on the tabletop. “He made many mistakes in defense of this city, but they came from truly noble intentions,” he said. “There are few good men left in Gotham, and I believe he was one of them.”

She glanced down, nodding. “I think so, too.”

Carmine slid into the seat across from her, taking up much more of his chair than she did of hers. “Now,” he said, as the butler reappeared with a cup of tea and its accoutrements for him. “What can I do for you?”

Barbara took a deep breath, looking up at him. “I want back in,” she said softly. Carmine’s expression didn’t flicker at all from its polite interest. “I don’t expect to get my territory back, but I was hoping…” She swallowed and straightened up, lifting her chin; at that, she thought she saw a ghost of a smile. “I was hoping you had a place for me in your organization. Or if you could help smooth the way for me.”

She waited as he fixed his tea, stirred it with a delicate silver spoon, and took a sip. “You gave up the life for your baby,” he said. “For your family. Why do you want to return to it?”

I want to watch this city burn, she thought. I want to watch its people suffer for what they took from my family.

The city of Gotham had only ever caused the Gordons pain. From Jim’s father dying in a car accident that may not have been an accident at all, to Babs suffering at the hands of the Joker, to Jim losing his life defending Gotham one last time, it was like the city marked them out for special disfavor. Not to mention how little the GCPD or the population at large had ever appreciated Jim, had ever appreciated everything he had done for them. His victories had never been enough for them, and his defeats had always been written large in their collective memory.

But Carmine Falcone, as inexplicably as her husband had, loved this city. So she knew she couldn’t tell him that. “The only way to protect the people you love in Gotham is if you have enough power,” she said. And even then, that wasn’t a guarantee. But it was better than nothing.

“That’s true,” Carmine agreed.

She waited while he took another sip of his tea, his eyes on hers over the rim of the porcelain cup. He set the cup down, dabbed at his lips with a napkin, and reached across again for her hand. “Gotham is in tumult,” he said. As if she wasn’t well aware of this. “But I will do what I can for you. Territory is up for grabs that normally wouldn’t be. I will pull some strings in the coming days, and see what I can land.”

He squeezed her hand before letting go. “And if you need me for anything else, please, don’t hesitate to ask,” he added. “Not just territory. I’ve always admired you, Barbara Kean-Gordon. You have the strength and the steel to do what needs to be done. That’s a rare quality.”

She managed a faint smile and stood up. Carmine stood, too, putting his hand lightly on the small of her back as he walked her to the door, where the butler had appeared yet again to guide her out. She and Lurch were halfway across the front hall before Carmine called out.

“Oh, and Barbara? Happy birthday.”

In the end, it turned out to be much simpler than that.

She had told Carmine that she hadn’t expected her old territory back, and that had been true. Truth be told, she really hadn’t given Old Gotham very much thought -- she’d assumed that she would be handed a new, inconsequential parcel of territory to babysit, and she would have to work from there. But as long as she had to wait for Carmine to pull his strings, she figured she might as well try.

Not to mention, it was on her way home, and she had no desire to go back to that empty house, especially on her birthday.

Barbara had gone in expecting some resistance, if not an argument, but to her surprise, Twice -- she assumed it was Twice rather than Ronni, since Twice always spoke to her like they were enemies on a teen soap opera -- had just flippantly agreed.

She’d opened her mouth to ask why Twice was being so agreeable, before she came to the conclusion that, much like the origin of her family wealth, it was probably better not to know.

She left with the feeling that she’d just been given a present, one that she wanted, but one that came with a price that she herself would have to pay for. With a shake of her head, she climbed back into her car and finally headed home. If something was finally going right for her after the past week, she shouldn’t question it.

After she picked up Peter from the babysitter, she drove home. She caught a glimpse of something on the front stoop as she pulled into the driveway, and her heart skipped a beat for a moment -- this being Gotham, and this being their family, her first thought was some sort of bomb.

But as she peered through the windshield, hand on the driveshaft to reverse back down the driveway, she realized they were flowers.

With Peter’s car seat dangling from the curve of her arm, she bent down to pick up the flowers with her free hand. Lilies, her favorite, tied together with a pink ribbon, with a card tucked among the long green stems.

She left the flowers on the front hall table as she took Peter back to his nursery, changing his diaper and putting him down for a nap. There wasn’t any sign of her daughter, so she neglected to start dinner; if Babs came home, they could always order takeout, and if not, Barbara had virtually no appetite anymore.

(She tried to ignore the small, bitter flicker of pleasure that gave her, thinking of how her mother would -- would have -- approved.)

Eventually, she returned to the flowers, expecting them to be from Oswald, or Zatanna, or perhaps Lee, if any of them had remembered. She slipped the card free and opened the envelope, idly trying to recall where the vase was, when the sight of familiar handwriting made her breath catch in her throat.

Happy Birthday, Barbara!

I know I’ve been really busy with work lately. I know I’m always busy with work. I’m sorry.

Let’s go out for dinner tonight when I come back from work. Even if I’m not up to it, just bug me until I agree again. I’m writing this a couple weeks in advance, just to make sure you get it for today.

I’ve never really been great at this romantic stuff but I hope you know I love you.

Love,

Jim

She put her free hand to her mouth, her lips trembling, and she wasn’t sure if they were trying to frame a sob or form a smile. There would be no dinner, of course, no begging him until he agreed. But she knew, if he had been here, they would have gone -- perhaps they would have brought the children, perhaps it would have been just the two of them, but they would have gone. He had never missed her birthday before, from 16 to 42.

Even when he’d been in the army, she remembered, both years he had managed to call her, and they had eaten dinner together over the phone.

I hope you know I love you.

“I know,” she said, her voice so soft that it was almost inaudible. “I know.”

He had loved her more than she deserved, and yet, at the same time -- the disloyal thought came to her for only a moment before she pushed it away, but it came nonetheless: not enough. He hadn’t loved her, or their family, enough to put them first.

If it had been her, she would have dispatched her men, no matter how thinly spread that made them, and then she would have found her family. She would have gathered them to her, and made sure they were safe. She and Jim would have weathered this storm together, keeping themselves and their children out of harm’s way. And let the rest of the city and its woebegone inhabitants be damned.

But Jim lacked the selfishness, or the self-preservation skills depending on your point of view, that Barbara had always held in spades. She cared predominantly about those in her inner circle, and those outside of it could be left to fend for themselves, or fail to do so, if the circumstances dictated. By contrast, Jim thought he could save everyone, and if that meant sacrificing himself, she suspected that was all the better for him.

She gave a hard shake of her head as if to clear it, and she took the flowers into the kitchen, carefully tucking the card into her pocket. Digging around in the cabinets, she found the vase and began to fill it with water.

The sound of the water splashing around in the crystalline throat of the vase almost drowned out the text alert on her phone. Turning the faucet off with one hand, she reached into her pocket with the other, frowning in confusion when she saw an unknown number.

[text: Unknown]: Next year, I’ll be there. Have faith. Even in the darkest times, there will be light.

It took her a moment to understand what she was reading, and the implications of the words. She sat down hard at the kitchen table, and it was frankly only serendipitous that she had been standing by a chair; if she hadn’t been, she would have gone right to the floor.

(Like she had that night, when Harvey Bullock had called her to tell her -- his voice choked -- that Jim was either missing, or -- )

She had presumed dead, even though there had been no body, because there was no way Jim would have gone this long without coming home to them. Not unless he couldn’t come home.

But maybe, she thought, staring at the text message -- it didn’t occur to her until it was too late to try texting the number back, and by then it was out of service -- she had been right, in a way. He couldn’t come home.

Yet.

He was out there, somewhere, and she hoped he was somewhere safe, away from all of this. She didn’t know why he’d had to leave, but she knew it must be to keep them -- herself, Babs and Peter -- out of harm’s way.

Perhaps the Joker had forced his hand somehow. She would figure it out later, because it mattered; but for right now, she focused on the fact that the love of her life was not gone. At least not forever.

The text message she sent in return, too late, was something that she hoped he knew, even if her words didn’t reach him.

I’ll be waiting. I believe in you.

#misc post #misc post: self para #death tw #body image tw

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