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mercurygray · 1 year

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@shoshiwrites really just handed me 'single dad falls in love with his daughter's ballet teacher' and then didn't think I would do anything with it.

He wasn't really sure what you wore to the ballet.

It wasn't really a ballet, at least in the formal sense, just a technical rehearsal for the local company, but for six year olds there really wasn't a difference, so out came a collared shirt and a sweater, and a party dress for the six year old, and the sparkly mary-janes that Annie had bought because 'everyone ought to have a pair.'

Emily had been so happy when they'd learned they were having a daughter - bought the little pink shoes, and the hairbows, and the Angelina Ballerina book even though everyone had reminded her it would be a long time before the baby was old enough for books with sentences. It was a foregone conclusion that Olivia would be signed up for ballet classes when she was old enough - even if Emily wasn't there to bring her when the day finally came.

Your mom would be so much better at this, Dick thought to himself, realizing, with a pang, that Olivia's braids were crooked or her hair tie was falling out or her leotard was on backwards.

He didn't like being bad at things, particularly when being bad meant all the other moms gave him pitying looks and sweet smiles and told him how wonderful it was that he was trying so hard.

(He told Harry and Kitty about this, once - Kitty laughed over her rosé and told him it wasn't just pity.)

They were out in force today, the mothers, all dolled up for thier afternoon mother-daughter dates - and, here he was, in cashmere and khakis, feeling out of place. (And again, the smiles - god save him from the smiles.)

They'd gone to lunch, beforehand, at thier favorite Italian restaurant. Olivia had played at being very grown-up, and had asked for a candle because, she said, very seriously, that 'they were on a date.' The hostess had taken them very seriously and had not only brought the candle but tirumisu for dessert. Dick remembered wiping whipped cream off Emily's nose and tried not to cry.

She was always going to have options. They'd decided that early. She was going to have dolls and trucks and dinosaurs and wear whatever colors she wanted and they would sign her up for soccer and for dance and she could keep whichever one she liked better. And Olivia just kept loving everything. Just like your mom, Dick would think to himself.

"Do you remember what your teacher said about best behavior today?" Dick asked, the flowers in his lap crinkling in their plastic.

Olivia nodded. "She said we should be really quiet, and we shouldn't clap until the very end, when the music ends. And she can't wave to us, but she can meet us afterwards. And we have to sit still through the whole thing, even though she has a solo."

Dick nodded. "You did a very good job of listening to Miss Joan."

Olivia preened, pleased to be good at following rules. (If anyone doubts you're my kid, there it is.) The lights dimmed, and a voice from above reminded everyone to take their seats, and Olivia bounced a few times in her chair before Dick laid a hand on her arm and reminded her that ballerinas were always very good at being still.

Kitty had helped him find the studio - one of the other teachers at her school had a roommate who worked there and had the fives and sixes classes, and was said to be really good. A real ballerina, Olivia had said, on the first day of class, practically skipping out of the studio. "We got to see pictures of her in her tutu and everything!"

A real ballerina, indeed - attached to the local company, teaching classes on the side to make a little extra cash, and more than happy to provide a little outing for her students when it came time for the annual fundraising performance. She was kind like that, Miss Joan. As teachers went he counted himself lucky that Olivia had a nice role model to put up alongside Annie and Kitty and Emily's sisters - women who went out and did things, like Emily did.

The lights went down, and the six year olds quieted, and the music started, and Dick took a deep breath and let his eyes adjust to the darkness. The whole performance was a series of vignettes from different dancers - an ensemble piece from Coppelia, a more modern thing in blacks and blues and moody lighting - and Miss Joan's solo, of course.

Ballet, where the women were always princesses and the dresses always sparkled - at least in the version you gave to six year olds, usually just The Nutcracker and maybe Swan Lake, if you didn't actually tell them the whole story. What is Miss Joan dancing today? Juliet, was the reply. She's from a play by Shakespin - Shookspea - Shakespeare. She has a really pretty blue dress, but she's not a princess so she doesn't get a tiara.

Listen, the tiara was important stuff, when you were six.

But then the music started, and she came out onstage, and he was…overcome.

There wasn't anything particularly sexy about how one showed up to ballet class - just black leotards and leg warmers and slip-on shoes, and a smile that wouldn't quit. But to see her onstage in glitter and gossamer, capering and smiling like a girl at her first party, shy and unaware of her own charm was…something else. And it wasn't just…the line of her leg, or the length of her back, but…something else, something just out of reach. Where's Romeo, Dick wondered. Can we hold him offstage so Juliet never dies?

But then the music ended, and the dream did too, and Dick found himself clapping as loudly as the rest of them, the flowers in his lap falling to the floor. (He remembered where he was, and picked them up again - Miss Joan didn't deserve crushed flowers.)

The girls were a giggling, electric mess after the performance, romping around the lobby trying to do pirouettes they'd never been taught to do and humming along nonsensically to music they couldn't quite remember. Dick stood back from the group of moms and scrolled through his phone, glancing up every now and again to make sure no one had started to climb a chandelier.

The dancing gave way to a circle, which gave way to a game of Red Rover, and finally - finally! the woman of the hour appeared, and the children flocked to her like magnets, bouncing and shouting and all talking at once. Dick hung back, waiting until everyone else had had a turn before calling his daughter's name so she could come and stand by him.

"Did you forget something?" Dick asked, gesturing with the flowers. Olivia clapped her hands and grabbed the bouquet, presenting it to Miss Joan with a flourish.

"Oh, thank you, Olivia. These are lovely."

"Daddy helped me pick them out. He said girls always like roses."

Dick felt himself blush, never wanting to be outside a conversation more - or away from someone's gaze. "Well, he's not wrong," Joan said with a smile that was clearly meant for the both of them. "Thank you for bringing her. I'm sure Saturdays are very busy."

"We went on a date!" Olivia announced proudly.

"Were you going to tell Miss Joan something else?" Dick asked pointedly, feeling himself blush again under the mortifying idea that it had been three years since he'd been on anything resembling a date. Olivia looked at him like he'd asked her to speak in Greek. He mouthed "her dress" in a stage whisper until she realized what he meant.

"I think your dress is really pretty!"

Her smile could have lit up the stage. "I think your dress is really pretty, too, Olivia," she said. "We should take a picture, and your dad can send it to me."

He took several, Joan striking a pose that Olivia could copy, his daughter positively radiant with delight. "Please do send them," she said, reviewing them on his phone. "Let me give you my number."

Her number! You sly dog! He could almost hear Lewis crowing somewhere. Focus, Dick. Focus. She's Olivia's teacher. I'm sure there's something unethical here.

#ballet au #i have written a thing #fun with dick and joan #single parent au #mercurygraypresents

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papirouge · 1 year

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That foxmatriarch twitter drama was sad and frustrating all over. I seriously pray she’ll be okay. This sadly reminded me of another woman in a similar situation where her husband was physically abusive and she refused all help from other more strict trad women who told her she had to leave when they would fight for families to stay together a lot. She refused because she didn’t want to be a single mother and deprive her children of their father. He was in prison for abuse but she still wanted to stay with him and saw him as the provider and protector. Being with a man was all she knew. She had no job, no education. She just broke down. Some trad scrotes started to kick her when she was down by blaming her and how she “picked” her husband wrong or how no man would want her as a single mom. I actually hate them.

My friend told me of a friend they had who was also in a similar situation - she wasn’t mean to other women for wanting to work or not have kids either. A very gentle soul. Fortunately for my friend’s old friend things worked out where she was able to find easy work remotely so the kids will be ok. I wish we were all okay in saying that being a mom who stays at home or a working lady who isn’t interested in kids is perfectly fine… because either way, there are low value scrotes trying to tear us all down

I checked on her twitter but unfortunately it's private :/

I checked on the reblogs of the post and it fell into Christian/trad circles and the radfem who dogpilled on this woman are getting shredded into pieces (which is what they deserve idc). Interestingly enough, not a single of them bothered to address the shitstorm so I guess they realized it was messed up..🥴

The story of the first woman is EXACTLY why it's not always a good idea to marry early. Without any education, women get totally reliant on their husband, and when said husband turns out to be a bum, they keep clinging to him because they don't know any better. But the thing is : STICKING WITH AN ABUSIVE MAN IS NOT BIBLICAL. When Paul's friend, Philemon, had his slave (Onesimus) escape, Paul didn't advocate for that slave to come back to his master to remain his slave, but he rather argued with Philemon to accept Onesimus as a fellow brother in Christ (Philemon:15-16). Under God's law, you can't consider someone as inherently inferior based on status (slave, unmarried, single, etc.), gender or race. That's why the Church is also guilty of creating a whole stigma around single mothers because single mothers aren't inherently lesser than married women with children ; shit happens, some men/husband are dangerous and leaving them is the best option. That's precisely because of this stigma that this poor woman would rather stick with an abusive man than leave him. The same trad scrotes shaming single women are the same shaming women who abort btw. They are spawn of the devil and should be actively rebuked

And yes, I wish Christians would stop their sick obsession with marriage and children - especially when this obsession is particularly oriented towards single Christian women which imo betrays their lingering obsession to control women. When Jesus is visiting Martha and Mary (Luke 10:38-42), and founds Martha harried in tidying up the house, he tells her: "you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better" ....and what Mary was doing? she was simply LISTENING TO HIM....not getting married and having kids. Listening to Jesus is BETTER than anything we could ever do thinking we are being "useful". For Jesus, listening to him >>>> bothering about the things of the world. So single women should rather seek after the "ONE thing that is needed" = listening to JESUS. Not trad scrotes compelling women to get married asap & pump children just because.

#answered #Christian

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music-is-love-90 · 2 years

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Summary: A delay in the ballroom means Kate doesn't hear Anthony lay out his list of requirements for a wife. In turn, he doesn't ruin his chances with her. Even the best laid plans can fall apart when love interferes.

Ch. 6:

The morning after the Queen’s Ball found the ladies in Danbury House practically girding themselves for battle.

“Lord Lumley.” Kate told them as they looked over her list. “At the top.”

“Is he not something of a dandy?” Mary asked, skeptical.

“I would use the term gallant.” Her older daughter shot back.

“Is that what you look for, Edwina?” she asked, turning to her younger daughter.

Edwina just smiled.

“If Kate believes in him, so do I.”

Mary just shrugged as Kate smiled triumphantly.

“I note Lord Bridgerton is not on this list.” Lady Danbury said with a gleam in her eye that made Kate decidedly uncomfortable. “An oversight on your part, my dear? After all, he danced with Edwina as well.”

“Oh, now, he is what Edwina is looking for.” Mary exclaimed with a grin that was everything wicked.

“Oh, yes,” Edwina chimed in, clearly enjoying torturing her older sister, “surely Lord Bridgerton will pay a call! He was such a wonderful conversationalist, wanting to know all about my family!”

“I’m starting to understand the appeal of a muzzle.” Kate muttered to herself.

“What was that, dear?” Mary asked innocently.

“I was saying that Lord Bridgerton is hardly suitable for Edwina.” She replied in a louder voice.

“For Edwina, yes.” Lady Danbury repeated, mirth clear in her voice. “I wholeheartedly agree.”

Kate chose to ignore her and turned back to her sister.

“You know what you are looking for, Bon.” She told her. “You must not forget that. Lord Lumley is a good option.”

She reached out and squeezed her sister’s hand as a footman opened the door.

“Mr. Balfour, ma’am.”

Edwina smiled excitedly and went to sit as Kate rolled her eyes.

It was going to be a long day.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Fratricide really should be legal. Anthony thought.

Benedict had refused to go back to his apartments after the ball the night before and was now sitting beside him as their valets shaved them, needling him about Miss Sharma.

“I thought you were choosing your bride with your head, not your heart, brother.”

“I’m fairly certain I pay for apartments for you.” Anthony pointed out. “Shouldn’t you be more comfortable there?”

“I am quite comfortable here, brother, but thank you for your concern.” Benedict replied primly. “Now, are you going to actually see the woman you keep dancing with or are you simply hoping she’ll trip during a dance and miraculously end up at the altar?”

“I have a plan.” Anthony ground out.

“I’m sure you do.” His brother agreed cheerfully. “But you had a plan last week which involved marrying the Diamond of the Season and instead you danced twice with her sister last night. Excuse us if the family is rather confused.”

“The family need not concern itself.” The elder Bridgerton replied. “As always, I will do what I think is best for all of us.”

“And you believe that to be Miss Sharma?” Benedict asked, suddenly serious. “Do not take me the wrong way, Anthony. I quite adore Miss Sharma, but she has no dowry, no highborn family, no connections outside her stepmother and sister. We don’t even know who her mother was, only that her father was clerk who ran to India with Lady Mary.” Benedict had his valet pause so he could sit up and look his brother in the eyes. “If you think she will make you happy, we will support you and her.”

Benedict was never this serious, so Anthony ignored the anger his words had stirred and made himself listen to what his brother was saying.

“Make sure you are positive about her, though. Don’t do something rash because you’re thinking with something other than your brain. Because if you mess this up, you won’t just be hurting yourself and our family, but three women who do not deserve the derision of the ton. As I said, I like Miss Sharma. Frankly, she deserves better than you.”

Anthony forced himself to not think of the last time he had allowed himself to get caught up in feelings and, instead, forced himself to think about what his brother had said.

“I will be careful.” He said finally. “Both with our reputation and hers. I will make the right decision for both me and this family. You have my word.”

“I know you will.” Benedict replied, sitting back to allow his man to finish.

Anthony watched him in silence for a moment.

“You like her, though?”

Benedict cracked his eye open.

“Better than I like you most of the time. And if the men of this city ever get past her blocking their way to Miss Edwina and see what’s in front of them, you may have a fight on your hands.”

“From you?” Anthony asked curiously.

Benedict just scoffed.

“I’ve seen how she looks at you when you’re not looking.” He told his older brother. “I may be a fool for love, but I’m not stupid.”

Anthony smiled and sat back as Benedict closed his eyes again. He needed to think about his planned trip to Danbury House.

He needed flowers.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Kate wished she had something heavy nearby so she could bash her head against it. Or, better yet, bash some of these idiots’ heads against it.

If she had to listen to one more poorly recited sonnet…well, she really couldn’t be held responsible for her actions.

She sighed and forced down her more murderous impulses. She had promised Edwina she would be on her best behavior today and she would not upset her sister. They had come here to find Edwina a husband. If that meant she had to listen to a few…hundred bad recitations of Byron, that is what she would do.

Did it have to be Byron, though?

Assuming Mary could handle anything Lord Lumley could do, Kate went to check on the rabble outside.

“Many dismiss Blake’s work as childlike, insubstantial…”

Kate shook her head with a smile as she reached the door. At least it wasn’t Byron.

“Miss Sharma, am I to be kept on the threshold all day?!” the next of the idiot suitors complained as she shut the door. “Lumley’s already had an inordinate amount of time with her!”

“That is because my sister is so enraptured with him at the moment.” Kate replied. “You wouldn’t want me to interrupt your discourse when it is your turn, would you?”

“I say we heed the young lady,” called a voice that Kate instantly recognized, “and wait with the grace our hostess affords us.”

Kate sighed as the man she would most like to bash in the head (granted for different reasons) came bounding up the stairs. For a second, she was thrilled to see him, but then she saw the flowers in his hand and her heart dropped.

Of course, he was here to see Edwina.

No matter, she thought. It doesn’t matter. Edwina is all that matters. Stick to the plan.

“Thank you, Lord Bridgerton.” She said shortly as he stopped in front of her, grinning brightly. “I’m afraid you are much took late and now find yourself at the back of a very considerably long queue to see my sister.”

“Once again, you assume I’m interested in the wrong Miss Sharma.” He said softly before holding out a lovely bouquet of roses. “For you. I left bouquets for your mama, Miss Edwina, and Lady Danbury with the butler, but I wanted to give you yours personally.”

Kate hated that her hands shook as she took the flowers from him.

“Thank you, my Lord.” She replied, just as softly. “And thank you for thinking of Mary. She’ll be so happy.”

“One of Daphne’s suitors brought her and mother flowers last Season and I remember how happy they made her.” Anthony told her.

“What happened to him?” Kate asked, thinking she might consider him for Edwina.

“He married my sister.” He replied with a roguish smile, making her shake her head fondly. “Are you attending the races this afternoon?”

“I am.” She replied, smelling her flowers happily.

“Would you allow me to escort you?”

Her smile slipped away as she looked back up at him.

“I’m sorry, my Lord, but I have already agreed to chaperone Edwina and Lord Lumley.” She said before rushing to explain herself for some reason. “It’s just that Mary dislikes horse racing and I said I would go, not anticipating – “

“It’s alright.” He interrupted, laying a hand on her arm to comfort her. “I completely understand. You have a duty to your sister, something I am uniquely familiar with. It’s no matter. I will still be attending with my family. I look forward to seeing you there.”

He squeezed her arm gently before letting go.

“Thank you for the roses.” Kate told him sincerely. “They are lovely.”

“You’re very welcome, Miss Sharma.”

Anthony caught her gaze and held it for a moment before bowing and taking his leave. As he left, Kate realized that the line of suitors had been watching them, and she felt her anger at him return before looking back down at his flowers once more.

Maybe she wouldn’t kill him, but a little maiming never hurt anyone.

With that thought, she took a deep breath and reentered the lion’s den, closing the door behind her.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Anthony arrived at Bridgerton House slightly dejected but resolved. He may not be able to escort Miss Sharma to the races, but he could still spend that time with her. He could also take this opportunity to see how she interacted with the heathens he called his siblings.

“And where, may I ask, is our intrepid viscount?”

He was surprised to hear that particular voice coming from the parlor.

“He is…back from courting already.” His mother said as he entered.

“Colin!” he greeted his brother happily, if distracted. “You’ve returned. Even better.” Looking around, he addressed his whole family. “I should like you all to ready yourselves for the races today. We will be attending, united as one.”

Hyacinth and Gregory cheered, running off to do as asked. Eloise sighed and linked her arm with Penelope’s.

“I am only agreeing to this because I will get to see Miss Sharma again.” She told him loftily. “Also, you may take the money you would spend on my new journal and quill and put it on the horse of my choice.”

“No betting, Eloise.” Her mother scolded.

“Of course not, mother.” Anthony agreed.

Violet turned away, content, and Anthony nodded his agreement to his sister. She smiled and led Penelope out of the room.

“I’m sorry.” Colin said slowly. “Did mother say you were off courting?!”

“Yes, and if you hurry, you will be able to meet her at the races. Off you pop.”

“Come along, Col.” Benedict said, slinging his arm around his younger brother. “I’ll tell you all about the madness that has gripped our dear brother by the name of Miss Kate Sharma.”

Benedict led Colin away, leaving Violet and Anthony alone.

“Did it not go well at Danbury House?” she asked him softly. “We weren’t expecting you back so soon.”

“Miss Sharma is busy chaperoning her sister.” Anthony replied distractedly as he picked up a biscuit. “We will see her at the races, though.”

Violet was quiet for a moment.

“I like her, Anthony.” She told him, making him go still.

He was quiet for a moment.

“I like her, too.” He said finally.

Violet nodded.

“Just…” she trailed off for a moment. “Just make sure you’re happy, darling.”

Anthony nodded before turning to go get ready.

#Bridgerton #Bridgerton Season 2 #Anthony Bridgerton #Kathani Sharma #Kate Sharma #Anthony x Kate #Kate x Anthony #Kanthony

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lord-radish · 1 year

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Top 5 Media Experiences of 2022

The Blacklist

Snapcube's Ratchet and Clank 3 playthrough

DanganRonpa 1 and 2

Dar Williams

lord-radish

The Blacklist is a network TV show starring James Spader as Raymond Reddington, the most wanted criminal in America - if not the world - with a list of criminals that the FBI can't catch or don't even know about in the first place. Every episode is about hunting down a new target on the eponymous Blacklist.

It has several staples of your average network TV long-runner - a main character who's a bit watered down for the sake of being a viewpoint into this wider world painted by the other characters, a story and cast that tends to meander a bit after 8+ years on TV because they don't want to end the show, and a lot of "copaganda" aspects that come with the main cast mostly being FBI dealing with huge, homicidal threats.

I've watched eight seasons of the show this year.

I have my issues with it. I like it a lot. They're phoning it in. I can't wait to see how they finally wrap up the story. I'm sick of watching it. I'm watching the show with a fantastic fan theory in mind. They're either never gonna answer the big questions or it's gonna be like How I Met Your Mother all over again.

Simply put, the way I enjoy this show isn't particularly cut and dry. Most of the above paragraph is me goofing around, but there's a big kernel of truth to all of it.

First of all - I initially adored the myth arc. James Spader turns himself into the FBI in exchange for being taken to see Elizabeth Keen, a profiler who's starting her first day on the job. That relationship forms the core of the show's mystery - why her? What's his connection to Elizabeth Keen? Is it her dad? She has a dad. Is there more to that than anyone realises?

That plot development gets pretty muddy as the show goes on. But for four seasons, it's a really, really good hook. And that fan theory I mentioned is incredibly frigging juicy - it's the entire reason I began watching the show, and at this point it's literally the only option that would make sense.

Secondly, it builds this whole mythos about the criminal underworld and puts Raymond Reddington right at the centre of it. Reddington, especially early on, is a bit, fat Mary Sue - he ALWAYS comes out on top. He knows every score, he goes behind every back and he comes out on top. And it's all set to James Spader giving the most long-winded, scenery chewing speeches.

That is exactly what I signed up for, and I adore the fuck out of it.

I love Boston Legal, partially because James Spader has such an intense, listenable voice. That show was about him as a goofy lawyer. This show is about him as a chatty kingpin of the criminal underworld, with a lot of that previous charm paired by a willingness to kill and to threaten people in a way that he absolutely can and will follow through on. It's absolutely fan-fucking-tastic.

But frankly, the criminal underworld loses its luster after a while - it's not exactly John Wick after ten years on a TV budget. And Spader absolutely begins to phone it in at some point, I would say it's around season six. He has his producer credit, he gets his paycheck, he shows up and says the lines and wears a hat. That's just the way it is.

Third, the gimmick of the show is absolutely genius for an episodic show. It's money in the bank.

The show is about a list of criminals, and every episode is about catching one of those criminals. You can make that list AS LONG AS YOU NEED IT TO BE. It's fantastic, and you can go absolutely batshit insane dreaming up new villains of the week - one of the dudes they take out in the first season is named The Stewmaker, and he dissolves bodies. Another guy brokers contraband by hiding it under his skin. It's gross, it's grisly, and it's so much fun.

But the episodic structure goes awry in two places.

First of all, the show focuses less on episodic stories over time in favor of longer myth arcs. It goes from strong standalone characters like I mentioned before to strings of less creative characters who act as macguffins to get to the next story beat in the season's arc. The criminal translation agency has a key to the server of a criminal plastic surgeon who'll lead us to the head of the terrorist cell who's about to bomb the White House - that sort of thing.

And the myth arcs are good for a few seasons. Season four is the absolute highlight of the show in my opinion. But that excellent quality doesn't last forever, because how many equally dangerous enemies does the most wanted man in the world have after he keeps defeating every big fish that swims up against him? And with the quality of the episodic villains of the week going down in favor of these larger myth arcs, only for the myth arcs to decline in quality after ten years, it does unfortunately drag the show down a little.

Another way the "Blacklist" concept goes awry - when do you use the more dangerous members of the list, the ones in the double- and single-digits of the list? When do you use the top 10? When do you make an episode about the top entry on the Blacklist?

This show has been on for almost 200 episodes. And I hate to say it, but there aren't a lot of double- or single-digit Blacklist members left. It's a natural consequence of the show going for as long as it has.

Also I'm only going to touch on this briefly, but the fanbase can make the show worse - specifically, a contingent of users on IMDB who hate on the main character and call for her to get killed off with 1 and 0 star reviews. I once saw a review saying that an episode would have been a 10/10, but because she showed up right at the end, it's a 7/10.

It's clearly a stupid thing for me to get worked up about, but like I said before - the show has imperfect aspects that come with the territory of being a long-running network TV show, and those aspects are compromises that come with the territory of watching a show like this. It's really demoralising to see such a vocal contingent of fans going "kill this character off and make the whole show about James Spader" - I like Spader, but I really, really dislike that take.

The reason I'm putting this show at the top of the list - and I have decided that this is a numbered list again - is because for better or for worse, it's been the one show I've gotten invested in this year. It's not at all in the same league as The Good Place or Moral Orel, or even Boston Legal (and that last show genuinely approaches a level of sleaze that makes it hard to watch at a certain point). But for as much as I can call it schlock, or even trash TV past a certain point - I can't deny how much I've enjoyed watching The Blacklist this year, and how much I continue to enjoy it.

The Blacklist is a flawed show with a big name attached, and after ten years on the air it doesn't have the same fire in its belly as it used to have. But it's a staple program that I've really been enjoying, and there isn't anything else I could talk about that has taken up more time or brain power than this show.

#top 5 #the blacklist #long post

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paintball169 · 3 years

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Day 3 - Identities

Day1 - Day2 - Day3 - Day4

Marinette had been living with the waynes for over a month now. The reason? Tom and Sabine sent her away to her biological father. Apparently To Dupain was not her biological, but Bruce Wayne was.

Marinette had a sliver of hope, A really, really thin one. Which had faltered by the month.

Marinette had defeated Hawk Moth with Chat Noir. Apparently Plagg found the brooches along with two sleeping kwamis accidentally. At night when Gabriel and Natalie were asleep, He had stolen the miraculous. On the patrol that night, Chat had told her that the miraculous were right under their noses. He gave her the two brooches and told her that Plagg had found the brooches in his father’s study. He told her that Gabriel was Hawk moth and Natalie was Mayura. Then he de-transformed and handed her the ring saying that he wanted to continue his life as a civilian.

Later that week it was announced that Chat noir found out who Hawk Moth was and he had stolen the miraculous at night. He then said that Gabriel and Natalie were the Villians. He then revealed himself saying that he was innocent, and he had no idea that his father was Hawk moth. Marinette had thought that with Hawkmoth gone she could beat Lila, But no, it Backfired. That was the reason she was Shipped off. Like an object. She was replaced just like an object.

Her only wish was to die. But she had tried to do that multiple times. Someone always managed to save her. So no, that option was unavailable. She had thought that she would finally be able to die in Gotham by sucide, But no, Selina, Cassandra or Jason always managed to save her.

By now she had started to see the woman as a mother figure. The Waynes hated her. They didn’t even listen to her side of the story. Only Cass and Jason had seen that there was more to the story. Selina and Alfred too, of course. The waynes saw her with disgust. They laid out certain rules.

And of course she figured out they were Bat family. She may not be from Gotham, but she wasn’t certainly stupid. She had to admit, The Waynes were really good at hiding the Batfam thingy. But what gave them away? Misplaced Batarangs by Tim. Then Tikki had also found the cave. She wasn’t stupid, Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne were good friends and certainly Batman and Superman. The people of Justice league stopped by often at the Manor too.

Speaking of the Justice League, They had given her an offer to join the League, but she declined. They had given her a satellite phone for emergencies to contact the league. They had praised her high and low. Batman was even Concerned for her when he found out her age range. Concerned! If they knew that Ladybug was their new sibling who was claimed to be a bully, she’d be declared a threat and her take Miraculous away.

Her routine was the same. Wake up. Eat breakfast in silence as she was being glared at. Study something. Do commissions while talking to her boyfriend, Luka and the others. Eat Lunch while being glared at. Study the Grimoire with Alfred. Sketch some designs while talking to Selina and Cass. Draw illustrations while Jason talks. Eat dinner in Silence. Stay up till 3 am doing commissions. Sleep.

Last week she had introduced Luka to Cass, Selina, Jason and Alfred. It went really well. Especially when Jason found out he was Jagged Stone’s son.

She was thinking how she could step up her game with the Waynes. In her thoughts she didn’t see Selina coming in.

“What are you thinking about Kitten ?” Selina asks, seeing the half sketched dress.

“Gah! Selina don’t scare me like that! Anyway I was thinking, ``What do I do to annoy the waynes?” Marinette asks the Master of scheming Cat-woman.

“Hmm, what about going to your true self? Being in headphones, ignoring them, Snide answers, and stuff like that?” Selina says thoughtfully.

“Selina, that's brilliant! You’re the best Mom!” Marinette says. She covers her mouth with her hand realizing what she said.

“Aww, Com’ere Kit. I love you.” Selina says softly.

“You’re not mad?” Marinette hesitantly asks.

“Of course not!” She says.

“You’ll be more of a mother than Sabine will ever be to me.” Marinette says with a small voice and hugs the older woman.

Then the Chaos was unleashed. Whenever the Waynes wanted to ask her something she’d ignore them and she always had her headphones on.

- - - - - - - -

“Marinette, tell me why did you hurt the poor girl?” Bruce asks in a stern voice. Of course Mari didn’t hear him because of the blaring music.

“Marinette, Why did you hurt the poor girl?” Bruce asks again, obviously annoyed.

“MARINETTE-” He was cut off from Alfred of course.

“If I may Master Bruce,” he says, earning a nod. He gently taps the girl’s shoulder. Marinette moves her hair away and removes her Airpod. The music is loud enough for everybody to hear.Meanwhile Bruce flushes in embarrassment. “Miss, Your father wants to ask you something.” Marinette nods. She turns to her Father.

“What?” She asks.

“I asked, Why did you hurt the poor girl marinette, around two months ago?” He asks, patience bearing thin.

“Oh? I didn’t know that I could make a clone of myself and Send one to the fencing class and the other to beat her up at the Seine?” She says in a bored tone. Jason and Cass, not being able to hold their laughter any longer, burst out laughing.

Later that night they checked her attendance, sure enough she was in the fencing class.

- - - - - -

One day Marinette got a call from the Justice league, Stating an emergency. She quickly transformed to Ladybug and Portalled to the Watchtower.

“Ladybug, welcome to the Watchtower,” Wonder Woman welcomed, standing at the head of a group of heroes. Interestingly enough, Batman and all of his brood were among them. Nightwing, Red Robin, Black Bat, and Robin and the others.

“Wonder Woman,” she greeted back. “What’s the problem?”

“Your former partner has been kidnapped.”

Ladybug’s face turned pale, but she took a deep breath instead of panicking. “What do we know?”

“Ra’s al Ghul has taken the former Chat Noir in an attempt to convince the Guardian of the Miraculous to turn over the jewels to him,” Batman reported.

Her face turned up into a snarl. “The League of Assassins,” she spat.

They were surprised that she knew Ra’s. But they hid it well.

“I take it you understand why we cannot allow the Miraculous to be surrendered to his control,” Batman continued.

Wonder Woman stepped in before Ladybug could reply. “Ladybug, we need you to tell us who the Guardian is so that we may protect them.”

Ladybug let out a cold laugh. Shivers ran down everyone’s spine. “Wonder Woman, you misunderstand. The Order of the Miraculous is all but dead. I’m all that’s left. You want the Grand Guardian of the Miraculous?” She spread her arms wide. “You’re looking at her. And Ra’s al Ghul can have them over my dead body. ”

The gathered heroes looked stunned. “Now where is Adrien?”

Red robin started, recovering first. “You’re not going alone.”

“You’re right,” Ladybug cut in. “I’m not. I’m gathering my team.”

“What Red Robin meant to say is that Batman and his assembled partners are going with you,” Wonder Woman soothed. “They have experience dealing with Ra’s and would be a great asset.”

“I’ll be back in ten minutes, at the most.” She said. Everyone nodded. She portalled away to gather her team.

Five minutes later a portal opened and stepped out Honey bee, Dragoness and Cobra in the Glory. The portal snapped shut when Ladybug entered.

“This is not enough! We’re dealing with Ra’s al Ghul and the league here!” Ladybug said. “We need her. She’s the last resort if we lose!” Dragoness exclaimed. The Justice league was confused. Who were they talking about?

“You’re right. Bee, you’re the only one who knows where she is. You’re her best friend. I can't find her in all of paris!” Ladybug asks, turning to Honey bee.

“You’re right, I do. It’ll be easy to find her. She’ll be in her room. She’s always Isolated, so don’t worry about getting caught.” Honey Bee answers.

“Isolation! I thought I told her to Socialize!” Ladybug exclaims.

“Yeah, but her family treats her like a pariah except some people. But Ladybug I don’t know if she’ll be able to fight.” Honey bee says.

“Rossi?”

“Rossi.”

“Now location please.” Ladybug says.

“Right. Wayne Manor, Gotham, New Jersey.” Honeybee whispers. Earning surprised looks from Ladybug and the Supers.

“Alright.” Ladybug portals away. This was all staged of course. She had recently found a spell to make a clone of herself.

“Why won't the hero be able to fight? She’s a hero!” Batman exclaims.

“Depression, you overgrown furry, Depression. She’s tried committing sucide several times. We saved her.” This earns many shocked looks.

Cue opening a portal. All of the Paris heroes Gasps. All in glory Multimouse is standing there.

When Honey Bee saw Multimouse, she gasped and enveloped her in a hug, muttering French endearments and saying how much she’d missed her. Dragoness stole Multimouse for a hug next before passing her on to Viperion who also received an extra peck on the lips in return, while Ladybug watched with a soft smile.

With Kaalki involved, it was child’s play to get into the assassin stronghold. Team Miraculous filled the gaps and worked seamlessly in their own right, simply a step away from Gotham’s Bats. They beat assassins on their own. The Bats just watched in awe.

It didn’t take them long to make their way to Ra’s.

The man wore a self-satisfied smirk on his face as he greeted him from his throne. A bruised and bloodied but otherwise intact Adrien was being restrained on the dias a few feet away.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Team Miraculous,” Ra’s mused, looking down the line. His eyes paused on Multimouse and his expression shifted to intense amusement. “And if it isn’t the latest in the Detective’s brood. I suppose heroics truly do run in the family after all.”

A number of shocked and confused gazes snapped to Multimouse, who simply stared at him down with cold eyes growling quietly.

“And yet she isn’t why we’re here,” Ladybug cut in coldly, shoving that problem in a box for later.

Ra’s shifted his oily attention to her. “Yes, I believe I requested the Guardian, young Bug.”

“And here I am,” Ladybug said simply. “But I will never cede the Miraculous to you.”

“Well, then I suppose the Blonde Cat dies.” The assassin near Adrien tried to kill him only to turn to orange smoke. Ra’s growls when he realizes he was tricked.

“Your reign is over. Your crimes won’t continue much longer. Tell me, just how long have you been using the Pits to keep yourself alive?”

“Goodbye, Ra’s al Ghul,” Ladybug intoned. “We’ll leave you to what remains of your empire.” She turned and motioned for the Fox to open the portal to the Watchtower. The Bats followed behind.

Adrien was at the fringes, attempting to escape a hero that was trying to get him to the Medbay for medical attention. He only had eyes for Multimouse.

“Marinette!” he called.

The Bats were shocked at both the name and the blatant outing of a secret identity.

Adrien broke free from his wounds. “Marinette, I’m so sorry,” he said brokenly.

It was quiet for a moment. “I take it they told you why I left, then,” Multimouse said, carefully devoid of emotion.

“I never thought-”

“Don’t, Adrien,” Queen Bee snapped.

Adrien gaped at his friend, shocked at the venom her words carried against him.

“But her Lies, they weren't hurting anyone!”

“How?” Multimouse snapped, her voice cracking. She took a deep breath. “How was it different? Because you told me I had to ‘take the high road?’ Because her lies would unravel themselves? Because she wasn’t hurting anyone? Bullshit, Adrien! They were hurting me!”

“She followed your advice at first,” Queen Bee said sharply. “She shouldn’t have, but you were her friend and she trusted you. By the time she realized that it had been a mistake, it was too late. Everyone else was in too deep and you did nothing . When Mari tried to tell everyone that they were being lied to, she was made to look like a liar. A bully.”

“Do you realize that the rest of us had people on watchlists?” Ryuko said bluntly. “People at risk of Akumatization that could bring the city to its knees. Aurore, because of Stormy Weather II. Ondine, because of Syren. But do you know who was on top?” She let the silence sit. “Marinette. Marinette was on top of that list. The only reason she was above Ladybug was because Marinette was drowning. But any time she tried to get through to the others, Lila hit back harder and you would ask Mari to back down. Because we don’t want to upset Lila, right? We don’t want her to become an akuma. Again.”

“My parents believed her, Adrien,” Multimouse said quietly. “They sent me away because I was ‘out of control’. I’m treated like a criminal where I am now! So I’m sorry, Adrien, but I can’t forgive you. You said you didn’t want to live with more lies, but then you stopped telling the truth when it threatened your ‘peace’. Even when that ‘peace’ might have ruined my life.” She took a deep, steadying breath. “But you know what they say, right? Never meet your heroes.” She turned and looked straight at Batman. “They’ll always just disappoint you.”

- - - - - - - -

The next week was tense at the Wayne manor. But eventually they apologised to marinette. She became close with them. She and her family then sent lawsuits to the Akuma class.

The saying is true then. “All’s well that ends well.”

@maribat-bdbwm

#mbdbwm2021 #Bio Dad Bruce Wayne #maribat #Bio!dadbrucewayne2021 #lilasalt #batmansalt

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goodnightmemes · 3 years

Text

DEXTER SEASON TWO SENTENCE STARTERS (PART ONE)

Lines taken from 2x01-2x06 of the show Dexter. Feel free to change pronouns or edit in any way to better fit your needs. Here is part two.

❛ It's not what I want, for what I want doesn't matter. This is the only way I know how to survive. ❜

❛ I really need... to kill somebody. ❜

❛ You're in control of your urges, not the other way around. ❜

❛ Can we please secure this motherfucking crime scene ? ❜

❛ It's not him that you miss. Because what he had to offer wasn't real. The way he made you feel about yourself...That was real. ❜

❛ I'm just trying to figure out some way to feel alive! ❜

❛ This stuff never gets to you? ❜

❛ I'm more of a crying on the inside kind of guy. ❜

❛ This neighborhood? It's full of crazies. I'd lock my doors. ❜

❛ Tons of options: Everglades, alligators, pig farms, sulfuric acid, wood chipper, incinerator. Hell! Even meat pies. ❜

❛ So this is the man who stands between me and death row. ❜

❛ There is no such thing as the perfect crime. Not in my experience anyway. ❜

❛ If I believed in God, if I believed in sin, this is the place where I'd be sucked straight to hell. If I believed in hell. ❜

❛ I'm not so much doing this to you as I'm doing it for me. ❜

❛ Now, it makes sense. That's where you disappeared to at all hours of the night like Clark fucking Kent. ❜

❛ If the eyes were a window to the soul, then grief is the door. ❜

❛ I've been preparing for this my entire life. ❜

❛ I'm sure someone with a heart could answer that question. ❜

❛ You know those words don't mean anything, right? ❜

❛ Get used to food references because... I like food. ❜

❛ I go to stalk a killer and I end up with a new car. How did that happen? ❜

❛ Nothing stays buried. ❜

❛ Everyone in that room has heard or lived far worse than anything you've ever done. ❜

❛ The worst killers are usually the ones who think their murders were somehow... just. Even deserved. ❜

❛ You just hop from one lie to the next, no shame, no embarrassment, you just don't give a shit. ❜

❛ You're lying to yourself if you think you don't care. ❜

❛ I'm not sure of what I am. I just know there is something dark in me. ❜

❛ Things, people, who never mattered before are suddenly starting to matter. It scares the hell out of me. ❜

❛ You were right. I'm sorry to wake you up, but I had to let you know that you were right. ❜

❛ In our most paranoid moments, we fear that everyone is talking about us. That's become my reality. ❜

❛ It makes me feel like the whole world could explode at any moment. ❜

❛ I don't have a badge. I have a laminate. ❜

❛ You haven't got the first idea who you are, have you? ❜

❛ You don't kill this many people because it's a chore. You do it 'cause you like it. ❜

❛ I've always been good with parents. The key is to simply think of them as aliens from a distant universe. ❜

❛ The last guy I had sex with tried to kill me. ❜

❛ Okay, this is the first time I regret not being a bigger nerd. ❜

❛ He asks you a question, I want you to think of your answer first and then tell him the exact opposite, okay? ❜

❛ You know, I've been thinking about you breaking up with me, and, well, I don't think it's in your best interest. ❜

❛ There are no absolutes. No one's all good or evil. ❜

❛ You make yourself into a monster so you no longer bear responsibility for what you do. "I can't help it. I'm a monster. "Of course I was gonna do that. I'm a monster." It's sad and it's pathetic... And it breaks my heart. ❜

❛ You don't think there are monsters in this world? You don't believe people are evil? I'll show you evil. ❜

❛ For the first time, I feel the future might hold something different for me. It's possible I'm just fooling myself, but I'm willing to take the risk. ❜

❛ I suddenly find myself weighing the benefits of electrocution versus lethal injection. ❜

❛ Sweet mary, mother of fuck, that's good! ❜

❛ I never expected to get better. ❜

❛ You think you're charming, don't you? ❜

❛ And you're not the least bit pissed off that this man got away with murder? ❜

❛ Healing is all about focusing your rage on the person that's hurt you. ❜

❛ I'm not the person I'm supposed to be. It's like I'm hollow. ❜

❛ I hide in plain sight, unable to reach out to people close to me. I'm afraid I'll hurt them. Like I've hurt so many others. ❜

❛ If you can't be happy for me, then maybe you shouldn't be here. ❜

❛ You made me into what I am! ❜

❛ If you turn back now, you'll go right back to the way you were...hollow, angry, alone. ❜

❛ I will get you through this. I swear. Just come back to me. Okay? ❜

❛ You ran a background check on my boyfriend? ❜

❛ Imagine that... a life with no more secrets. ❜

❛ Everyone has a moment when they realize their value system is different from their parents'. ❜

❛ Rumor has it you have a knack for attracting serial killers. ❜

❛ Sorry if I was short with you this morning. I'm lost without my morning coffee. ❜

❛ I thought you were different than ____, but you're the same. Actually, you're worse. You made me trust you. ❜

❛ I have been patient and understanding, but there's only so much I can take. ❜

❛ What in the name of fuck are you doing up so early? ❜

❛ When I get pissed, I say stuff I don't mean all the time. "I hate you," "I faked it," "You're hung like a grape." ❜

❛ Stop being a douche bag and go fight for her. She's fucking perfect. ❜

❛ I heard what you said. I just don't take orders from you. ❜

❛ You want to hit me? Go for it. I've been waiting for a chance to take your ass out. ❜

❛ Nobody fucking listens to me! ❜

❛ Last time, you came back covered in blood. ❜

❛ Apparently my new life involves a love triangle. ❜

❛ The voices are back. Excellent. ❜

❛ I've spent years looking the enemy in the face, and I'm telling you ____ is dangerous. ❜

❛ Chin up little sister, these things have a way of working themselves out. ❜

❛ You attacked those people because you wanted to. ❜

❛ All my life, I've done what someone else said I should do, been who he said I should be. I followed his rules, I stuck to his plan. I never stopped to think about what I wanted and what I needed. And now I don't know who I'm supposed to be. ❜

❛ I will kill you. I have to. I just don't need to. It's very empowering. ❜

❛ There was a time I would have done anything to protect ____. I would have even lied. But today I told the truth... even though I knew she'd get hurt. ❜

#sentence starters #sentence meme #rp meme #ask meme #inbox meme #rp memes #*tv #*dexter #*mine

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alyssadeliv · 3 years

Text

The Forgotten One

First Previous

Chapter 10

Chosen One.

Marianne Al Ghul.

Mari.

Pixie.

The Lily of the Desert.

Marinette Dupain.

Ladybug.

The Great Guardian.

And now she would eventually become Marianne Wayne.

She had had multiple names and lived for what felt like a hundred lives, all very different, but all of them with one thing in common. Damian.

From the moment he was born until her first death, she lived for him. Always there to aid and protect him at all costs. At all costs. She lived for him. The only time she had something for herself, it was taken from her. So she wasn't good with owning things. Her whole life nothing was truly hers. Damian was the League’s. The Miraculous were the Order’s. She was divided between two organizations. Never truly belonging to one or the other. She ached to belong, so it was very important that she proved herself to her father. She knew she was never enough for her mother, she was indeed the second option. Useful enough to not be discarded, but not the heir she most desired.

So now. Standing in front of her Father, having imagined this moment her whole life, she had to admit, she was scared. Would he reject her too? Would she be enough?

“Father… This is Marianne, your daughter.” Damian presents her. She doesn't know how to act so she stays in place, awaiting instructions or directions, but still getting the time to analyze the man in front of her.

He was taller than she imagined, but intimidating with his Batman attire just as she had pictured. He looked at her in a cautious way, as if at any moment she would combust into flames. She kept her eye on him, looking for some sort of sign on how to act. It took some time but eventually, his expression turned to a mesmerized one.

“You look like my mother…” He whispered, reaching to her with his right hand but never touching her. His face in awe. “How… I-”

He turned his head to Damian as if he could explain more. In his face a lost and anxious expression. She could see that her little brother wanted to comfort their father, but didn't know how. So he stayed at her side, hoping that his presence was enough. Clearly, it wasn’t.

“I need to think'' And with that he turns and walks out of the cave, never even sparing a glance back. The only thing that can be heard are his footsteps, and when those are gone, an awkward silence installs.

Only then does Marianne let go of the air she didn’t even know she was holding. With not even a nod of his head father had dismissed her. He was similar to Mother after all. Only ever interaction with her if needed, just to make sure she was still alive. She could deal with that, she knew what to expect. That actually calms her more than it should. The uncertainty was still there, but at least she knew that deep down he could care for her in the future as her mother did.

“Daeh Washanuh” She tells her brother when she sees his indignant face. Her father needed time, she understood that, so for now she would let him be.

She still felt a bit weak, having spent all her energy between fighting her brother and mending her injured body. Damian must have seen said exhaustion because he instantly went to her side, to support her. With her body pressed against his side, and a strong arm crossing her waist holding her she admired how much he had grown. He was taller than her now. Stronger too. Gone was the 10 year old that followed her around. In his place was a slight better version of that person. She gives him a reassuring smile, trying to transmit her gratitude and appreciation without words, the same way she would do before they were separated. She could only hope they still understood each other after years of no contact.

Damian chooses that instant to start introducing the others. The redhead in the wheelchair looks at her with interest, as if trying to solve a puzzle. She doesn't seem to be judging her like the guy in the red leather jacket with a shocked expression is, so she counted that as a win. The dark haired teen that she knocked out a few days ago looks like he’s seen better days, and by the dark spots under his eyes and the large cup of what she assumed to be coffee in his hand, he was an insomniac, like her. The two still wearing their full costumes start to remove their masks, the one in blue has a calm expression, but the other is still very much shocked.

“Habibti... This is Richard Grayson, Timothy Drake, Barbara Gordon, and Jason-”

“Todd.” She smiles. “Long time no see.”

How could she ever forget those blue eyes that hunted her dreams. He was a big part of her past, and she would always be able to spot him in a crowd.

She can almost remember the first time she met him. At only 13 she was tasked with training this overemotional 16-year-old. Let’s just say their relationship wasn’t good at the beginning. He carried too much anger inside of him to allow him to listen to what she was trying to teach him. He was hot-headed and stubborn, and most of the time she just wanted to throw her dagger at him to see him bleed. But after some time they got close. Closer than they should.

At that time Grandfather had intensified Damian’s training so she wasn’t able to see him much, instead, she found herself around Jason a lot. They confided in each other. She gave pieces of herself to him that she never gave anyone else, only for him to be ripped from her life as punishment.

Last she heard her mother had dealt with him. She assumed she had killed him. But seeing him in front of her, healthy and very much alive was a relief. She had mourned him for a long time, but the joy she feels in knowing he was alive was immense.

“Pixie!” Jason speaks for the first time, by now he already got up from his seat, and is now standing in front of her. Different from her Father's reaction, he seems to need to touch her, to guarantee that she is real and truly there. Confused about how she knew his older adopted sibling, Damian backs away from his sister, too stunned to properly comprehend what was happening. She now was using Jason as support, feeling the heat of his body next to her’s, just proving that he was really there.

Pixie was a nickname he gave her when they first met after he discovered she could do magic. At the time she did not understand the reference, not having grown up with fairytales, but after he patiently explained to her about fairies she could see where he was coming from. Small and Magic. That was enough to describe her. And secretly she was pleased to have a nickname especially made for her. “I told you we would see each other again…” He says with a smug smirk on his face. Caressing her cheek with his hand. Oh, how she missed that look on his face.

“Am I the only one that’s freaking out with this scene in front of us?” The spell is broken by the voice of the blue hero. Richard. The first adopted son of Bruce Wayne. She knew a bit about him, when she was younger a part of her training was inspired by his stunts on the field. “How the hell do you know her, Jaybird? Bruce’s secret love child?”

He still holds her, more for support than anything else. It’s been a long time since they’ve been together, but their friendship hopefully still remains. She takes him not letting her go, as a sign that she wasn’t the only one affected by this unexpected reunion. When she first arrived at Gotham she knew she would inevitably meet her extended family when she finally sought her brother. And yes, it came to no surprise that Jason Todd was once her father’s ward. But remember that she did believe him to be dead. And if that was truly the case she would carry her secrets to her grave. But apparently, it was time to come clean to her brother. Her relation with Jason was the one thing she ever kept from Damian. And she could see from the look on his face that he was very confused.

She detaches herself from Jason and tries to reach her little brother, but the day's activity finally takes a toll on her body and she trips and almost collapses on the floor if not for the two that come to her rescue. Jason being the one closer to her catches most of her weight, but Damian has both her hands into his own.

“I'm fine…” She tries, but by the look on both their faces, they don’t believe her one bit.

“Dick, why don't we leave the rest of the interrogation for tomorrow? When Bruce can participate.” Barbara speaks for the first time. She pushes herself away from the table and starts making her way out of the cave in her wheelchair. It seems that her words have power, because with only a grunt and a side glance and he leaves as well. Sometime between her father leaving and Jason making himself known Timothy fell asleep, face down on the table in what could only be described as an uncomfortable position.

If she wasn’t so exhausted she would have questioned how easily Damian’s family accepted to wait until tomorrow for answers. If it was her she would want them as soon as possible. No matter what.

“Come, I’ll show you to my room” Damian removes her from Jason’s arms and starts directing her through the same path all the others took out of the cave. Tomorrow she would come back and admire all the technology and weapons the Bat Cave provided, but for now, she was content in being almost carried to a comfy bed. After almost a month of chasing Gabriel Agreste around the globe and mostly sleeping when she could, wherever she could, just the thought of sleeping in an actual mattress brought her immense joy. “I promise to not ask questions today, but I need an explanation for the display of affection you gave Todd downstairs.” His tone is stern and she knows he meant that.

"Deal." He nods, accepting my answer.

We walk through a long corridor for quite some time, but eventually, we stop in front of a door. Damian opens it and carries me to the bed. He sits me in his bed and goes to his wardrobe. While he does that she admires the size of his room, which is big, just as it was in the League, but here she can see bits of his personality. Photos on the wall, drawings on the tables. She is happy that he gets to explore his part of himself. When he comes backs he hands a change of clothes to her, and without saying anything he makes his way to what Marianne assumes is an adjacent bathroom. Leaving her room to change alone. He gave her a black long-sleeved shirt and black pajama bottoms that were definitely too small to git him now, and she can only question as to why he has it still.

She removes her attire and changes into the offered clothes, but not before inspecting the place where there was supposed to be a wound. She was healed, as expected, but her dried blood still clings to her abdomen. By now Damian finally comes back, wearing an outfit similar to hers and carrying a damp towel.

“I thought you would want to clean yourself of the blood.” He hands her the towel. She in return gives him a sincere smile, accepting the offered object and immediately removing all traces of blood from her body.

While she did that, he sat on the other side of the bed, removing some pillows and getting under the covers. Marianne leaves the towel on the floor beside the bed and carefully puts one knife on the bedside table and her dagger under her pillow. Old habits die hard after all.

Damian observes her with a nostalgic look on his face but otherwise remains silent. He turns the light off by the switch near his bed and the bedroom immediately gets dark, the only source of light coming through the closed windows. As she gets under the covers she feels his body getting closer to hers. And she can’t help but smile again, remembering how many times they did this exact same thing during their childhood without their mother knowing. Or at least they thought she didn't know, not knowing she merely allowed them this simple thing.

“Aishtaqt lak ya 'akhi” She repeats the same words she said to him when they were on the rooftop earlier that night.

Her only answer is his hand finding hers and giving it a squeeze.

Final chapter of part one! Do you like the stoy so far? After a lot of messages from you guys I decided to continue with a part 2 of this story. Still haven’t decided how long it would be, probably about 10 more chapters but who nows. Sorry it took me so long to post this chapter, its was finals week at my university and you know how it is.

Let’s hope I get more time to write! Thank you all fot the support do far! You are all amazing!

It curently 3 am so sorry if there’s any mistakes!

Taglist: @macncheesemonster @jumpingjoy82 @silversaphire12 @jinx-jade @swiftie-miraculer13 @greatcatblaze @megaafangirl @ramos123 @theamityislife @maskedpainter @toodaloo-kangaroo @nyx-in-line @ketchupqueenboiiii @blackroserelina @lozzybowe @user00000003 @kashlyn @msshadows97 @ira-sairain @stackofrandomstuff @myazael @frieddonutsweets @asrainterstellar @our-preciousss @laurcad123 @nyaabinch @rverfades @thefangirlwholiterallydies @astoriaandromeda @unnamed2357 @little-lady-bird @imdaqueenie @meismu @dorkus-minimus @a4-machete @arty-shadow-morningstar @catthhay @sizzling-fairy-oil @poodapup @charme-de-malchan @jayjayspixiepop @fusser90 @adrestar @iloontjeboontje @buginetye @macncheesemonster @messymessyml @redbullgivescaswings @queer-illusion @moonlightstar64 @kking13 @lupagrimm @dorkus-minimus @roguishredaxion @meow-6296 @galla02006 @samiamack @readingalldaysleepingallnight @twsssmlmaa @ihatecomingupwithusernameswtf @alexizlazy @lady-bee-fechin @mizzy-pop @alcoholic-barney @ladyqnoirr @wingl3ss @vroomtaka

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shirophantomvox · 3 years

Text

Hold My Hand- Illumi x Reader

OMG thank you! My first international fan! Thank you for this wonderful prompt! This was requested by @illucilfer .

Summary: Today’s story takes place in a 1950s diner by a frequently used Interstate; Interstate 95. We know this dinner for its delicious hamburgers, hot dogs, milkshakes, and jukebox records, but every night one Patreon never returns home. A few men who were angry about your recent arrest have shot you both. As you both stare at each other exchanging mental signals, everyone around you tries to help you to the hospital. Y/N is narrating the story. I seem to have fewer grammar errors that way. FYI, Bold and italicized font will reference a thought or flashback.

Story Navigation

Let’s get started!

The leaves have turned bright yellow and orange, fluttering every second to the ground. I could hear little children a while away laughing and playing in the community park; throwing up the leaves, jumping into piles, and throwing them at each other. The smell of freshly baked donuts brightened everyone’s mood. All you had to do was take one bite and your face would brighten and crack a smile. Dining at Cupid’s Kitchen will always have your heart and interest.

Interstate 95 was always heavy with traffic during this time of year. The folks of Dallas celebrated mulch annually. The “Mulch Fest” was a street fair that stretched 1.5 miles to the east that contained music, drinks, farmer panels, homemaker Q&A, and other activities that southerners enjoy. Illumi and I are only here because of an unfinished assignment. We have worked night and day for countless days trying to catch Jack “Da Hamor” Gilberton, but he was nowhere to be found. Eventually, I allowed my anger to get the best of me and made the executive decision to take a day off. I barred Illumi from searching, tracking, or any form of hunting for our target. The life of a bounty hunter and an assassin can thrill, but it can drive you insane if you allow it.

Ironically, Illumi and I both enjoy fall. It is perfect for cuddling (although he acts as if he’s too good to cuddle), wearing creative hoodies, going to pumpkin patches, and attending apple orchids. I tend to “lose my cool” when we have dates there. When I was a child, my family did not go on trips like these because they were over an hour away from our home and I had 5 siblings. But once I made money for myself, I made it my mission to go to one at least 5 times out of the year. Illumi enjoys the different fudge, hot cider, and candy apples. He almost broke a tooth on one!

“Say cheese snag-a’-tooth!”

“Stop it. It’s not funny!”

“It is! Could you imagine if you lost your two front teeth? You’d look almost adorable as you did in the 1st grade!”

“How did you know about that?”

“Duh! It happens to everyone, but your mother showed me the pictures, of course.”

“Curses!”

Illumi’s sweet tooth is just like Killua’s; both have a weakness for chocolate. Except, Killua will admit defeat while his older brother keeps denying it.

Cupid’s Dinner has been in Dallas for over 55 years. A black woman established it in 1945 by the name of Mary-Lou Benson. Since then, Mary’s family has been running the shop, making sure all of her customers are happy with the service. During the turn of each season, Cupid’s Dinner gives its customer's food options based on the season. The fall options include donuts, candy apples, different flavored cider, fudge, and hot coffee specials. As much as everything looked appetizing, I could not order it all. Our server, Little Ben, placed our drinks in front of us and handed us the menu. I could tell he was happy with his line of work, just as I was to be with Illumi.

“You all take your time. I’ll be back in five.”

Ilumi glanced on both sides of the room, scanning for Jack Gilberton, already forgetting the agreement we established.

“Illumi, what are you doing?”

“Huh?”

“You keep looking around like you’ve seen Da Hamor. Eat your donut and relax, sweetheart.”

“I cannot relax. I must stay on alert.”

“If I can relax, so can you. It’s not that hard.”

“Fine. If I die, it’s on your head… literally.”

The jingling bell rang almost every second when a customer walked in. It was a joy to everyone's ears; the spirit of Mary Lou-Benson was alive and well. An overwhelming feeling of love seemed to have overtaken the diner. After examining the bistro for quite some time now, each customer had been using their cellphones at the table instead of chatting with their families. Many traditional families hated that about this generation but they should be open to new traditions forming. Illumi dislikes using cell phones or tablets at the table unless we use them for missions. He has emphasized how rude it is to be surfing the web about utter nonsense while someone is speaking. This is a pet peeve of his, something I’ll never step on his toe about. Although I think that is overdoing it, I respect it.

Little Ben served our table quickly, leaving us with two dishes of a classic chicken sandwich, kettle chips, one chocolate, and vanilla milkshake. Milkshakes were my weakness; I nearly foam at the mouth when I see one. When I found out that Illumi had NEVER had a milkshake, I almost fainted.

“No. I’ve never had a milkshake.”

“Huh? You’re missing out, pal.”

“What’s the big deal? Isn’t it frozen milk?”

“Not just frozen milk. You can add many flavors, toppings, and whip cream!”

“Well, then. You’ll have to show me sometime.”

We thanked Little Ben for his service as he clocked out for the day.

“I have to admit these sandwiches look very appetizing.”

“You can say that again!”

Before I nibbled on my sandwich, I wanted to take a moment and adore the man before me; Illumi Zoldyck. A man full of mysteries, professionalism, skill, and talent. His enormous eyes were immersed in the large pieces of chicken in between the sourdough bread. He licked his index finger vigorously; allowing the homemade honey mustard to drip enough from the bread to the plate in between licks. Just the sight of him actually relaxing for once has blown me away. For once, Illumi Zoldyck could be himself and I had the privilege to witness it.

“Um… why are you staring at me? Do I have food on my face,” he asked; violently wiping his mouth off with a provided cloth napkin.

“Oh! Ha, ha; no reason. I wanted to see your reaction after drinking your milkshake. That’s all.”

“Why? It’s just a drink.”

“Whatever you say, babe.”

“Babe? What happened to LuLu or Illumi-Lu?”

I gasped and pretended to be surprised… although I was a little.

“I did not know that you liked those pet names. I assumed it mortified you.”

“Who told you that? That never rolled off my tongue. “What I said was” — He bent closer to the table and to me; glancing both to the right and left to ensure no wandering ears were around — “I prefer Illumi-Lu to be said in the bedroom and LuLu when we’re alone, like how we are right now.”

“Aww…. ok,” I yelled in excitement.

“Don’t blow it out of proportion, alright?”

“Yes, sir.”

As we ate, Illumi hummed along to the tune that played a few times on the restaurant's jukebox. Illumi and I were born in the mid-90s, but listening to 50s music was a part of his aesthetic. I was told that he had an “old soul” which sounds romantic at first until you realize how men were during that era. His raging temper was a noticeable toxic trait, but it has drastically improved. Nonchalantly sipping on his milkshake and then eating more of his chips, he grazed the soft part of his left hand over mine as he continued to hum.

“What’s the name of this song? You seem to know it rather well.”

“Put your head on my shoulder, a famous song from the 60s. I heard my parents sing it once and since then, they have addicted me to it. Do you like it?”

“Yes, in fact, I love it. All of this is—”

“A surprise to you? Well, enjoy it while it lasts because once I find Jack Gilberton, this side of me will hide for a while.”

“Understood.”

Damn! I was just feeling connected to him again!

The music swelled; everyone seemed to be happy. Not an evil spirit insight to disrupt this beautiful moment. For once in my life, my raven-haired beauty actually held my hand tight, stole a few of my barbecue kettle chips, and gazed into my eyes harmlessly. His lips brushed against both of my hands, ever so lightly placing kisses on both sides of them. Illumi’s gentle smile warmed my heart as my lingering thoughts of hope stayed intact.

The welcoming bell jingled again. Two men in black leather jackets, stone-washed blue jeans, and tattooed all over their arms came into the diner. The men seemed to be bikers who had just left their own “spot” but one thing struck me as they continued to walk towards the staff. They both wore sunglasses when the sunset for the day. Not to mention that the lights were not dim in the diner and the moon was as bright as ever. The second man had his eyes glued in my direction. My heart beat faster as I wondered if Jack Gilberton had found us. Could you imagine?

Put your head on my shoulder

Hold me in your arms, baby

Squeeze me oh-so-tight

Show me you love me too

I am used to coming in contact with enemies on my hit list, but given Jack’s criminal history; I felt like I may not survive his attacks. Illumi will survive, but just barely. Both men approached the checkout, crowing over Little Ben’s sister. She was a short woman but full of might, and I could tell by the shakiness in her voice she was frightened. I wanted to step in so badly, but I didn't want to blow my cover just in case it was, in fact, Jack Gilberton. After I assume, ordering food, both men stood by the entrance, blocking it from others from entering and leaving. The sound of their old, beat up-lighters crackled as one lit a joint and the other lit a cigarette. This horrid smell ruined the atmosphere because they were not in a designated area and it drowned out the lovely aroma of the food being served.

“If you gentlemen would like to smoke, you need to go outside. There is no smoking in here.”

“What? You think you’re better than me because you don’t smoke?”

“Huh? I never said that, sir. I asked for you to go outside. Not all of our customers can deal with it.”

They did not move a muscle. The sound of their mucous laughter made everyone’s stomach turn. They laughed at the young girl and called her many slurs. Little Ben’s sister didn’t flinch, nor did she cry; she remained still, staring at the men. I had just enough of their obnoxious behavior.

“If you do not leave, I will call the police.”

“The hell you won’t.”

Put your lips next to mine, dear

Won't you kiss me once, baby?

He drew a gun from his left side. He aimed it at Little Ben’s sister and demanded that she emptied the drawer. She refused. Her stone, iron will reminded me of Illumi; no matter the circumstance, they remained intact, determined to fight until the end. Bravery is always encouraged, but too much will cause your life to be taken away. Little Ben’s sister grabbed a fake till that they kept under the real one and threw it at both men. Fake money fluttered everywhere in the small diner, mimicking confetti. Gunshots rang in all directions as the imbeciles recklessly shot, aiming for Little Ben’s sister. Everyone threw themselves on the ground to avoid being shot, but luck cannot spread itself throughout an entire room of people. A young child, an older man, and another worker were shot in their lower leg. Blood reflected from the ground as it continued to seep. Ignoring injured civilians is a jackass move and continuing to deny the fact would prove that the oath I pledge to meant nothing. Sure, bounty hunters must remain hidden, but if someone is injured, I must help them.

The child was lying lifeless on the polished marble floor. He would not respond to my shaking or my silent whispers. When I rolled him over, my heart broke into a million pieces. This child had no chance of survival; a few bullets struck his chest, one just inches away from his heart. A tear rolled down my cheek.

“Why must the good die young,” I whispered to myself.

“... Because snitches get stitches.”

Before I could gain sight of who stated this utterly corny response, I felt an overwhelming amount of pain in my lower back. It felt like a million tiny needles were jabbed so far through my skin that they entered my intestine. I could still hear, but my body would not move. I tried and tried, but my brain would not signal my legs.

Move! Move, damn it!

It’s odd; I could hear myself talk, but my body would not move at all. The sound of another thudding body made my mind jump. My heart had already been pounding enough to try to resuscitate my organs to move, but a familiar semi-blurring sight of none other than Mr. Illumi Zoldyck cleared my sight. My brain went wild. I didn’t know if Illumi died or if he became paralyzed, but one thing is for sure. We finally made eye contact that felt special; something I hadn’t felt since the day I met him. Our contact felt like magnets; an unbreakable bond. Suddenly, my icy hand felt warmth around my palm and fingers. Illumi simultaneously fell in a way that connected our hands. Our unbreakable bond, the warmth of his fingers laying on top of mine, and the gaze we shared somehow made me feel like it was just the two of us alone. I could hear his thoughts loud and clear; thoughts that came from the heart.

“Please help me. Before it’s too late, LuLu,” I cried, thinking I was going insane. “I don’t want to leave if it means leaving you behind.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Not without you.”

“Please! I want to live a life. Life as a bounty hunter, build a support system to our children, and a good lover is all I want to be.”

“You are a warrior and so am I. We have been through worse. This is nothing.”

Mere eye contact is all we need to exchange wandering conversations. The bond that we’ve created is something so strong that I haven’t realized it until now. The warmth emitted from his loose grasp seems to lose its effectiveness. It blurred my vision beyond recognition, leaving Illumi as a near figment of my imagination.

“Oh no. I guess this is it.”

My vision darkened. Illumi was slipping away as my lingering thoughts almost made my heart give out from exhaustion. I was ready to accept my fate, but it seemed like fate had other plans. My vision was still darkening by the second, but my sense of touch remained there. Smooth fingers outline my arms, torso, and chest. I heard muffled voices yelling and screaming about calling for assistance, but I didn’t care if they came or not. I made peace with my life’s end. Bit by bit, my breathing slowed down, but my sense of touch remained heightened. I felt a rubber glove touch my face and neck, examining it for any damage.

The jukebox continued to play Illumi’s favorite song, Put Your Head on my Shoulder. I remembered the day I laid my head on his shoulder; boy, what an endearing moment that was. It was something I took for granted, something I should have savored, for I never knew that this moment would have happened. The song grew muffled by the second verse. That verse repeated every time I tried to force myself to take what felt like my last gaze at my raven-haired beauty.

Just a kiss goodnight, maybe

You and I will fall in love (you and I will fall in love)

-FIN.

A/N: Since you’ve made it to the end, I’ll say something. The reader did not die in the end. They were later revived at the hospital.

113 notes · View notes

fuckingthefictional · 3 years

Text

Red Stained Dress

Request: “I hope you’re having a wonderful day/evening/afternoon/night! May I request Reader being a cousin to the Shelby’s (mother’s side) and being very very like lady-like, clean, expensive clothes. And one of the boys gets blood on her dress? If that’s alright? Thanks in advance.”

A/N: I made this entirely too angsty for my own good, either way hope you enjoy!

Warning: Graphic descriptions of violence, swearing, blood.

“Mummy what is falling in love like?”

“My darling, it is one of the best things in life. It is special and sacred. It makes life worth living, it makes the world that little bit brighter.”

“When will that happen to me?”

“Time will tell my sweet girl, but be patient- love is always lurking around corner, where you least expect it.”

Your mother was right. It did lurk around the corner and it caught your heart in its grasp and lead you to love. To your husband.

At the age of 20 you went from Y/N Strong to Y/N Massey. Wife of James Massey. You were happy, at peace.

But your mother had failed to explain the complexities of love. That it didn’t come easy. There was darkness and rockiness. And love didn’t always last.

For you it broke in front of you. When your husband was taken on the battlefield- somewhere in France.

And suddenly you were a widow, you were alone.

Your mother and husband had passed. The only person left was your father (if you could even call him that)- Charlie Strong.

On her deathbed your mother had begged you to go and make amends with him. Even going as far to write down his address on a piece of paper for you to keep.

But you hadn’t plucked the courage to do that yet. To you your father was just a man who ran from his wife and child at the first moment he could.

There was only one trait that you shared with that man. And that was your love of horses. You had always had a connection with animals. Horses and dogs in particular would just flock to you- who knew maybe it was in your blood.

“Ms Massey?” A quiet voice interrupted your heavy stream of thought, looking up you saw one of the many maids that worked at the house standing in the entry way to the library.

“Is everything alright Mary?” You asked.

“Ms Carleton has just arrived for you ma’am, she’s waiting for you by the car.”

You nodded, rising from your armchair and taking one last glance at his armchair before you left for the day.

May and yourself were going to a horse auction, you’d been looking forward to it for weeks.

You were both looking for some new horses to take on and train, as well as some new potential clients.

“Stop dallying Y/N!” Your friend’s familiar voice rang out, “The auction starts soon, we’ll miss out at this rate!”

You rolled your eyes towards May, silently dismissing her joking jabs at you.

“We won’t be late May,” You reprimanded, “stop fretting.”

“The clock says otherwise.”

“Ladies like us are never late,” You waves your hands to prove your point, “everyone else is simply early.”

May giggles in response, “if you say so Y/N/N.”

You swatted at your close friend jokingly, you were hoping for a successful, calm day- but trouble always did seem to follow you every place you went.

“Ladies and Gents we will start our bidding at 50 pounds.”

The horse auction was surprisingly crowded, it seemed that quite a few people had come to see what breeds could be found at the auction house that afternoon.

It was dwindling down to the last few stallions and the occasional mare. All in all you had been successful in purchasing two stallions and a mare of your own.

The last horse on auction in question was beautiful, it was a stallion- dark and shiny in colour, its legs were long but muscled. A perfect contender for you to train for the races.

You raised your hand in interest.

“50 pounds here,” the auctioneer spoke, looking around at everyone else, “Going once, twice-“

“150 pounds.”

Your head whipped round, looking for the man who was trying to outbid you.

“300” you spoke again.

“500” A murmur rippled through the crowd.

You weighed up your options, it was a lot of money for a single horse- you didn’t want to blow through every single penny you had to your name.

“Going once, going twice-“

“1500 pounds.” A new voice had cut out, there were shocked murmurs erupting throughout the stands of people.

The gavel banged on the table, signifying the final action of the day, as people began to disperse from the auction house- you could finally see the man that had snatched the last horse up.

You knew who it in an instant- it was Thomas Shelby. Your cousin Thomas.

Swallowing a lump in your throat, you began to make your way down the stairs with May. Silently you found yourself praying that he hadn’t taken any notice of your presence.

God didn’t listen of course.

“Y/N?”

You took a deep inhale, as you rushed down the stairs to try and escape.

“Y/N!”

Fuck, there was no chance of outrunning them.

You quickly murmered that you would catch up to your friend, before you slipped through the doors arena like stage.

The doors itself open and closed behind you, before it was repeated again.

Here goes nothing I suppose.

You breathed in a shuddering breath as you turned to face your estranged family members.

They were all there. Thomas, John, Arthur, as well as another two men that you didn’t recognise. Not to mention the man that you had long since called your father.

You put on a polite smile, which probably looked far too forced, “Good Afternoon Thomas.”

“What are you-“

“What are you doing ‘ere ‘ey?” Your father cut Tommy off, questioning your motives as his piercing eyes stared into your similar ones.

The action only caused a swell of anger to swirl in her belly.

“I assume the same reason that you are- business.” You spoke simply, biting down on your tongue to keep any more words at bay.

“And what ‘business’ do you have here Hmm?” Tommy’s gruff voice asked.

“Jesus I’m just here to purchase any horses that look good enough to ride professionally- what is your probl-“

“Mr Shelby.”

Everything that happened next, happened all too quickly. Because before you could even register what was happening there was a yell coming from one of your cousins.

“Get down!” John’s voice had cut of your own with a loud yell, as you were suddenly tackled to the floor.

A loud crack rippled through the air as the wooden banister above you splintered into two, a bullet lodging itself in the wall behind it.

You peeled up behind the curtain of hair that had fallen in front of your eyes, “What the fuck?” You screamed in fear, shock melting into every nerve and muscle in your body.

Another gunshot pierced out, as it shattered the large window close by into thousands of shards.

A part of you didn’t want to believe that this was happening- surely it was just a dream? A terrible, horrific nightmare?

Another crack of a bullet being launched sounded close to you, peeping up from behind your quivering hands you saw that it was Thomas who had fired it.

Thomas who had fired a fatal shot into another man’s head. Thomas who had caused the death of a man, who may have had a wife, or a child or a family.

But nothing could’ve prepared you for the sight that was to come next. The sight of your eldest cousin brutally throwing punch after punch after punch at another man’s face.

The sickening sounds of flesh hitting flesh and bones shifting and cracking under the weight of Arthur’s meaty fists continued to echo around the room.

The man’s face slowly becoming mangled into mush, the sand below him becoming stained with crimson blood - you knew you couldn’t take it for a moment longer.

Swallowing your fear, you jumped off of the ground, screaming desperately for Arthur to stop.

You tried to pull him off, only to be knocked backwards onto your back. You felt the air leave your body as you collided with the ground.

You shifted back onto your feet, ignoring the pain surging through your spine. Watching as your father, Tommy and another man ripped Arthur away from the scene.

Crawling over you to the motionless body, you lifted two fingers to his neck. Frantically searching for a pulse. After a few seconds you found one, “He’s still alive- but his pulse is weak, he needs-“

Once again you were cut off by your father, “John take Y/N to the car.”

“What? No!” You protested, “did you not hear me- that man is dying he needs a doctor now.”

Within seconds you felt your body lift off the ground and over someone’s shoulder.

“Stop! You can’t do this!” You were screaming desperately, you voice becoming hoarse “What is wrong with you?”

The feeling of tears running down your face, alerted you to just how upset you felt. You just watched your family kill- like they were predators.

A few short minutes later, you felt your feet finally hit the floor. Looking around you grasped onto the nearest solid object that you could find.

The car was cool to touch and it calmed your raging thoughts for a second before a swell of nausea hit. You wanted to be sick, to cleanse the memories of what you had just witnessed away.

“Y/N...” John’s voice held care, like he was tiptoeing around what had just happened, “About what you just saw.”

“You didn’t see anything.”

You’re head shot up angrily, Tommy stood in front of you, with the rest of the group of men behind him.

“Really because the blood on my fucking dress says otherwise,” you fined, lYou’re fucking insane- you just killed two men, two men who may have had families that will never see them again.” Tears welled up in your eyes, “You should feel ashamed.”

Tommy rolled his eyes, “If we didn’t kill them, they would have killed us.”

“We all have a part to play in this world Tommy- you don’t get to decide who lives, who dies and who tells the story. You’re just a selfish coward who shoots first and asks questions later.”

“Y/N you can’t say that- he’s your family.”

Your head whipped around, quick enough that you swore you could’ve gotten whiplash. It was your father who had spoken those words.

“You don’t get to say anything to me- you do not have that right anymore, you lost that a long time ago,” You jabbed a finger into his scrawny chest, “Family Hm? You lot stopped being my family years ago. None of you came to my wedding, none of your cared when my husband was killed, and you ‘dad’ disowned me before I could walk- so don’t you dare lecture me about family.”

“You’re still apart of this family Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes, “Well if that,” you pointed back over to the auction center, “is what being apart of this family is then I have no fucking interest in being apart of it.”

Family isn’t always to do with fucking blood- it is what you make it.

#peakyfookinblinder #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #peakyblinder #peaky blinders #peakyblinders #requested #tommy shelby x sister!oc #tommy shelby x sister!reader #tommy shelby x reader

284 notes · View notes

just-dreaming-marvel · 3 years

Text

I’m From Brooklyn, Too ~ 142

OUT OF TIME MASTERLIST

I’M FROM BROOKLYN, TOO MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,065ish

Summary: Y/N tells Tony the truth, after all this time. The Team learns about the Stones.

Notes: You must read Out Of Time in order to understand this. The chapter numbers continue from Out Of Time. (Gifs are not mine.)

Previous on Out Of Time…

“Tony…” She tried to turn away, but Tony grabbed onto her arms, keeping her facing him.

“No, you don’t get to run away right now. I need an answer. If we’re going to do this, bring everyone back. I need to know the truth, once and for all. That I wasn’t the second choice, that I wasn’t just the only option so you went for it… So, tell me, would you have chosen me if Barnes was still here?”

Y/N pursed her lips and looked away, staying silent. But that was enough of an answer for Tony. Tony scoffed softly and shook his head.

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” Tony said. “In some twisted up way, I’ve always seen this coming.”

“Tony,” emotions were building in her throat and eyes as she said his name. “I’m so very sorry.”

“That day you were trying to tell me something and i was rambling on about my dream about Morgan… you were trying to end this… Weren’t you?”

“Yes,” she cried. “I’m so sorry. You have to believe me when I say that I love you so much too. It’s just… he’s—“

“Your first.” Tony sighed as he ran his hand down his face. “I don’t know how I thought I could even compare to what you two have… a love that transcends time.”

“I’m so sorry, Tony.” She grasped onto his hand, scared to lose him even still. “I really am… And I really do love you.”

“I know, cause you wouldn’t have stuck around if you didn’t.” Tony pulled away from her and started to walk away.

“Where are you going?”

“I need a moment.” He turned and quickly have her head a kiss. “Go to bed. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

Then he left without another word, shutting the door to their bedroom behind him. Y/N burst into sobs. Yes, she loved Bucky and he was the one she wanted. But she loved Tony and had grown used to the life they had made together.

And if this plan didn’t work, Y/N knew she had just destroyed her daughter’s family.

~~~

Morning came and it was clear to everyone that there was something wrong with Y/N and Tony. Everyone was just too afraid or preoccupied to say anything. They ate breakfast in different rooms and when it came time for them to gather with the team to talk about the Stones, they placed themselves on opposite ends of the room.

“What’s going on?” Natasha whispered to Y/N.

Y/N bit her lip as she answered with a shake of her head, unable to look at Natasha. Taking a hint, Nat reached over and held Y/N’s hand as Steve began.

“Okay, so the how works,” Steve said. “Now we gotta figure out the when and the where. Almost all of us has had an encounter with at least one of the six Infinity Stones.”

“Well I'd substitute the word encounter for damn well near been killed by one of the six Infinity Stones,” Tony said. “Or is connected with them.”

Y/N took in a harsh breath as she felt the stares of everyone in the room. Natasha gave her hand a gentle squeeze. Glancing towards Tony, she met his gaze. He looked heartbroken, which was breaking Y/N.

“I haven’t,” Scott cut in. “I don't even know what the hell you're all talking about.”

“Regardless, we only have enough Pym Particles for one round trip each,” Bruce stated. “And these Stones have been in a lot of different places throughout history.”

“Our history,” Tony corrected. “So, not a lot of convenient spots to just drop in.”

“Which means we have to pick our targets,” Clint said.

“Correct.”

“Let’s start with the Aether,” Steve suggested. “Thor, what do you know?”

Everyone turned to look back at Thor. He was sitting on a chair, beer in hand and sunglasses on. Unmoving.

“Is he asleep?” Natasha questioned.

“No,” Rhodey responded. “I’m pretty sure he’s dead.”

Tony gently woke up Thor and helped him stand in front of the group.

“Where to start?” Thor asked himself, clearly still out of it. “Umm... The Aether, first, is not a stone, someone called it a stone before. It's more of a... an angry sludge thing, so... someones gonna need to amend that. Here's an interesting story though, many years ago... My grandfather had to hide the stones from the Dark Elves…” He wiggled his fingers. “Woooooh, scary beings. So Jane,” an image of Jane Foster popped up on the screen. “Oh, there she is. That’s Jane… She’s… an old flame of mine… she… she stuck her hand inside a rock this one time… and then the Aether stuck itself inside her... And, she became very, very sick.”

“So I had to take her to Asgard, which is where I'm from,” Thor continued. “And we had to try and fix her. We were dating at the time, you see. I got to introduce her to my Mother... who's dead,” everyone was trying to give their full attention to Thor as he began to look broken and rambled on, “and oh you know, Jane and I aren't even dating anymore, these things happen though you know, nothing last forever,” Tony went up to him, guiding him back to his chair. “I'm not done yet, the only thing permanent in life is impermanence.”

“Awesome,” Tony responded, keeping a hold of him. “Eggs? Breakfast?”

“I’d like a Bloody Mary, thank you.”

“Alright, maybe we stop for breakfast,” Steve cut in. “We’ll reconvene later.”

Y/N was the first person out of the room, with Natasha hot on her tail.

“Y/N! Y/N, stop!” Y/N ignored her friends call. “Y/N.” Natasha grabbed her wrist and pulled her into a side room, locking the door. “Talk.” She stood in front of the door, blocking Y/N’s only way out.

“I screwed up my marriage,” Y/N whispered, unable to meet Nat’s gaze.

“What? How?”

Y/N gasped for air, trying to keep the tears at bay. “Because I’m still in love with Bucky… and Tony asked, and I couldn’t lie. Not to him, not anymore.”

“But you love Tony too.”

“I do. It’s just not the same… And no matter the outcome of this plan, I’ve now ruined my child’s family.” Y/N’s arm trembled as it went up to cover her mouth. “I did that… I will be the one to cause my own child pain. How—how could I do that to her? How could I fail another one of my children?” “You didn’t fail—“

“But I did! I failed AJ and now I have failed Morgan. If… If this works, and we all make it, I wouldn’t blame Tony for wanting to take her away from me. And I think I’d let him.”

“I would never do that to Morgan,” Tony’s voice cut in, making Y/N jump in surprise.

He had been listening through the door and decided he couldn’t standby and listen anymore. Tony slipped into the room and Natasha quickly took her leave, shutting the door behind her.

“I would never do that to you either,” Tony continued. “Because, damn-it Y/N, I love you more than anything. Even after finding out the truth last night. You will always be it for me. No matter what. And because of that, I would never do anything to hurt you, including taking Morgan away from you.” Tony sighed. “I was up all night thinking about how to react to this. And just me, I wanted to freak. But I couldn’t get myself to, because I still love you.”

“What do you want to do?” Y/N meekly asked.

“I want to go through with the plan and then figure it out. Worry about one thing at a time.” Tony carefully walked up and took Y/N’s hands. He looked down at them, running his fingers across hers. “I… If… If this all works out, and we get everyone back, I want you to know that I’ll let you go.”

“Tony—“

“Let me finish. I’m trying to be the good man for once, okay? Just let me have this moment. Though I really want to be selfish with you… cause it’s you.” Y/N nodded, allowing him to continue without interruption. “I… I will let you go, if that’s what you want. If that is what will make you happy. I can live with that… I’ve only ever wanted your happiness. And I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I stepped in the way of that.”

“I’m so sorry, Tony. I need you to know that I really am.”

“I know…” Tony pulled her into his chest, cradling her head close. Y/N latched onto him. “I know…”

“We’re going to make it through this, right?” She whispered after a few minutes of silence, just holding onto each other.

He pressed a kiss to her head. “Always.”

~~~

The rest of the day was focused on making the quantum suits for everyone and gathering more information on the Stones. They gathered together once again for dinner, where Rocket was answering questions about the Power Stone.

“Quill said he stole the Power Stone from Morag,” Rocket told everyone.

“Is that a person?” Scott asked.

“Morag’s a planet. Quill was a person.”

“A planet? Like in outer space?”

“Oh, look. It's like a little puppy, all happy and everything.” Rocket changed his tone to one that he was use when talking to a puppy. “Do you wanna go to space? You wanna go to space, puppy? I'll get you to space.”

“Alright, Rocket,” Steve said, stopping the raccoon from making Scott feel worse. “Explain to us how the Power Stone works.”

“It has the ability to destroy whole planets.”

“It is the most destructive of all the Stones,” Y/N spoke up quietly, causing everyone to look at her. “The power is… tremendous, in the most terrifying of ways. I’ve felt it.”

“Right. You’re connected to the Stones.”

“I was, until Thanos destroyed them.” Y/N focused on her food, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone. Tony set a hand on her knee, trying to be supportive.

“How much do you know about the Stones?” Steve asked.

“A lot, yet nothing. They’re so complex and they are each their own being, and each the same being. I know more about their powers and capabilities than anything else.”

She finally looked up to look at Steve. He was clearly unhappy with her. Probably feeling like she purposefully kept everything about the Stones from him, which wouldn’t exactly be a lie. But Y/N felt that she was doing what she had to, to protect the people she cares about.

“How about we wrap it up for the night and talk about this more in the morning?” Tony suggested, trying to help Y/N out of this mess.

That only made Y/N feel more guilty. She knew that she had basically crushed Tony's heart, yet he was still protecting her. She awkwardly looked down at her lap, nervously fiddling with her fingers.

“I think we need answers,” Steve retorted, angry eyes never leaving Y/N.

“And I think we all need to sleep on it for a night,” Tony argued, glaring at Steve. He stood up, pulling Y/N will him. “Come on, honey. We’re going to bed.”

Tony guided Y/N out of the room and to their bedroom. As he shut the door, Y/N struggled to hold back the tears.

“I-I’m so sor-ry,” she stuttered. She was shaking. Tony quickly came over and guided her to set on the edge of the bed, with him kneeling in front of her. “I’m… s-s-o…sorry.”

“Hey, shhh,” he cupped her check, catching the tears. “Stop apologizing.”

“B-but I should h-ha-ve been… more o-open with ev-everyone… I should have told everyone everything about the Stones.”

She hid her head in her hands as she broke down. Tony stayed kneeling in front of her, hands on her knees to comfort her. He knew there was nothing that he could say to make her feel better. Y/N needed to let it all out, feel all the emotions running through her.

next chapter >

I’M SO EXCITED TO SHOW YOU ALL WHAT I HAVE PLANNED! I hope that this chapter didn’t disappoint. I was really nervous to post it.

I appreciate all likes, comments, asks, and reblogs! Thank you for all the positive support!

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repetitionsings · 3 years

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Sorting Cabin Pressure

I return! Briefly, because tumblr still hates me, and yet triumphant, because I’ve spent the last week re-listening to Cabin Pressure, and I want to talk about sorting the MJN crew. So let’s do some Sorting Hat Chats!

As usual, my view on these characters may not be yours, and if you have different thoughts, I’d love to hear them. :D Discussion spans the entire 27 episodes, so let’s say spoilers just to be safe.

Martin

Despite probably having the biggest, best-defined character arc, I'm finding Martin the main character I'm least set on.

Secondary-wise, I'd say he's definitely a built secondary; very little of Martin's improvisations seem to come comfortable to him. His insistence on doing things right and by-the-book feels fairly Badger, but his ability to be lured into shortcuts and moments of unprofessional behavior feels to me like a Bird who thinks that Badger hard word and toil is the best option. It also seems to fit with the way he becomes calm and confident once something works out for him, and then immediately loses it once things go wrong and he feels unprepared again. The few episodes where he really gets to be confident and succeed particularly feel Bird-y to me: relying on knowledge in Johannesburg especially stand out.

(That said, Badger also seems to ring consistently with the way he handles a lot of things -- his dedication to his job, his hard work, even the way half the time he does get confident, it's either because Douglas isn't there to bring him down, or he seems to be pretending to be him.)

Primary-wise, though, that's where I get tripped up. Not a Snake, I think; even his hesitancy to leave MJN is half about his own goals and issues, not fully founded in caring about others. Badger doesn't quite seem right either -- "being loyal and true to things or people that exist is more important than sticking to grander but more abstract ideals or concepts" does not sound like Martin at all. My first thought was Lion, just one that's still struggling to be as decisive as they usually are -- despite his hesitancy, and his instincts being 'follow the rules written by others', a lot of the Lion stuff seems to apply to him. "They are willing to sacrifice their safety, social harmony, and a certain amount of logic to do what they feel is right." "There is right and there is wrong. Things are black and white. Shades of gray are places where people go to play games, twist the truth, and to be cowards."

But... he does bend the rules, or sit back and let Douglas do so. If nobody who makes him feel like he has to put on the act is there -- see Newcastle and Qikiqtarjuaq -- he'll bend them pretty far. Trying to drop candy on a kids' birthday party (Johannesburg) and lying to a passenger about where they're flying (Timbuktu) levels of far.

So who's around seems to be a big part of it, which maybe could point back in a loyalist direction. I think in the end, though, I'm going to throw up my hands and say, maybe a Bird whose system is in progress from something fairly immature and black-and-white to something more complicated? Martin's devotion to his passion and his job above all else feels pretty Idealist to me, and this seems a little more fitting than him being an extremely malleable Lion.

Douglas

Douglas "at any given moment I never have fewer than seven ulterior motives" Richardson? Douglas "did something clever and now everything's fine" Richardson? Douglas "pretending very hard not to care about anything, actually cares very deeply, but only about specific things and specific people" Richardson? Is there even any point to considering an answer besides double Snake here? Douglas might as well be the model of it. Trickery is his first language. He schemes, charms, adapts, and lucks out in order to achieve anything in his sights, whether that's as small as a relief from boredom or as big as saving the day.

Motivation is trickier -- but it becomes clearer and clearer as time goes on how far Douglas is willing to go to save MJN, and outside his own desires to be the captain again, that seems like the biggest thing that ever drives him. Combine that with his hedonism, and the way he's happy to lie, cheat, and steal to accomplish most other things with no notable guilt or shame, I don't even see hints of a model or structure built over it; the things that matter to him are his own reputation and status (and even that in very specific, particular ways), and saving GERTI and her crew.

(That said, the more I think about it, I do think you could make a solid argument for Douglas as a rapid-fire Bird Secondary. Mostly built around Zurich -- his confession that his confidence started, not just as a mask, but wholesale imitating somebody else. There's also this excerpt from Finnemore's Farewell Bear Facts: "Douglas prefers to hang back, let other people make mistakes, work out the 'something clever' he's going to do in secret, and then present it with a flourish." While that could be Snake-y, I could see it as a Bird's planning working for someone whose very invested in his own reputation. That said, I still think Double Snake seems the most applicable overall.)

Carolyn

Carolyn's drives are a kind of mirror to Douglas', which is interesting to reflect back on. The two things she cares most about are how she's seen, and -- even if she sometimes shows it in her own strange way -- Arthur. Then Douglas and Martin start to rank in there over time, and eventually so does Herc. (Martin moreso than Douglas -- speculation, but I think it's probably because everyone knows Douglas will take care of himself first, so he doesn't need to be worried about so much.) Money matters to her of course, but several times it comes down to show that if money was the most important thing, she'd probably have given up GERTI a long time ago. We get it set out plainly as early as Douz: "Because I am the Chief Executive Officer of MJN Air. It’s a good thing to be. It’s better than... a little old lady."

I think it's possible to read Carolyn as an extremely burned Badger; there's something in how she reacts to her sister that makes me think I can see it. But in general, I'm more inclined to say Snake Primary. One that isn't fully burned -- Arthur's never really out of her circle, I think -- but does have a hell of a time opening up her circle to new people by the time of the series. Just look at the trial Herc goes through before he gets there.

Lion Secondary, I think. She's the immovable object to Douglas' unstoppable force, and Martin is the thing unfortunately trapped between them at times. She's stubborn and honest, hates playing at being nicer than she is and only does it when absolutely necessary, and cares about her rules being followed but not the rules in general so much. She's whip-smart, but she doesn't actually tend to be tricky or slippery in the same way as Douglas -- and in fact, the one time we really see her try to be actively tricky, in Timbuktu, she loses. She's more likely to ignore opposition or tell someone else to solve it, and even when she pulls something, it's usually pretty straight-forward. (For example, calling Hester's fans in Cremona -- it's an underhanded move against someone who's earned her ire, but not really a complicated scheme.)

Arthur

I think Arthur shares his mother's Lion Secondary. He's a force in his own right as much as she is, even if he's more of a tornado to her steel barrier. He's honest to a fault and very much always himself, no matter what the situation, or how much better it might be to try and do something else.

As Primary goes, it's hard to tell if this is just Arthur's optimism shining against everyone else, but my first instinct is Badger. He wants to be helpful, oftentimes too much so, and he likes them so much it tends to be notable when he doesn't like somebody. His focus tends to be the people in front of him at the time, but that does extend to include other people when they're there -- it's not just the crew at all times. While I think it's possible to see him in other lights, Badger seems to make the most sense and work with what we see of his wants through the series.

Herc

While most of the other minor or reoccurring characters don't show up enough for me to have even an idea, I think we do get enough of Herc to narrow it down some, if not make a completely secure conclusion.

My first instinct is that he's yet another Snake Primary in the mix. It works with his role as a foil for Douglas, and with his willingness to give up his position to be with Carolyn by the end of the series. (That said, I feel like his speech on why he's a vegetarian in Ottery St. Mary could point towards Bird Primary as well, and would make sense with everything we see of him.)

He seems straightforward in a way that doesn't line up with a Snake Secondary to me -- that could be a matter of the situations we see him in, but I still just don't see it in his conversations with Carolyn. I'd say maybe a Lion Secondary, in the way the two of them clash and he stands his ground. Bird Secondary also makes sense, but admittedly I'm having trouble pointing to anything specific that made me think so; there's just something in the way his manner bounces off the others, and in the way he seems to almost take on and off All-Knowing Air Captain mode.

In conclusion --

Martin: Double Bird with a Badger Secondary model Douglas: Double Snake Carolyn: Snake Primary/Lion Secondary Arthur: Badger Primary/Lion Secondary Herc: tentatively Snake Primary/Lion or Bird Secondary

or, as they say in Limerick... But for Arthur, they're all quite constructed With the Snakes bickering interrupted By a worrying Bird From the Captain's chair heard Til the newest of Snakes is inducted

Carolyn's Lion is strong and won't coddle Martin's Bird, leaning against his model Or the Lion she raised By the Snake she's unfazed And thank you all, for reading my twaddle

#sortinghatchats #sorting hat chats #cabin pressure #Sorting Things Out #m: cabin pressure #til binary systems run

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sanoiro · 3 years

Text

Lucifer Meta: “Choices”

“Choice is a funny thing…-“

Those were Dad’s words not mine back in 3x26. Before P2 dropped I was always saying that episode should be considered one of the core episodes if we wanted to understand S5 and Dad as a whole.

“Give someone different options, different circumstances, will they themselves end up different?” -Dad in 3x26

Lucifer S5 P2 spoilers ahead (I will add more screenshots later on)

I always liked the idea of Lucifer having a choice although his vulnerability theory of mine back in S2 was born out of a different thought.

But angels self-actualise however that applies to wings, a face and powers. In Michael’s case it was his posture as broken as he felt. Otherwise how we could explain that only he tried to urge Chloe on killing him but was rather docile when he believed he would face an immediate death.

Now what we didn’t know is that Gods also self-actualise. Therefore it is a genetic trait if you like. So let’s take this concept when we study Lucifer.

Lucifer has made his own choices over the years and the choices he made were the ones that brought us to the events of S5. However something doesn’t add up. Like yes, he chose that face in Hell because of his shame and how he viewed himself. Lucifer admitted it in 4x08 and Dad confirmed it as well in 5x11. So what is the two things amiss? Well one mostly throughout the series? His glowing red eyes.

The majority of the fanfiction out there express his eyes as an evidence of his Devilness, a connection to Hell while I believed for a very long time it was a manifestation of him being the Lightbringer but what does that constitutes?

Back in S2 Mum constantly calls Lucifer her ‘Lightbringer’, Lucifer lights up Azrael’s blade alone fleetingly when angry at his mother in Trip to Stabby Town. When the Medallion of Life is put on the blade his pain over Chloe flames it up for several seconds before it stops. Only when Lucifer assembles the sword, the medallion and the binding element, also known as Amenadiel’s jewelry. But there is again something amiss. Lucifer does flame it up in 2x18 but Mum’s words suggested that with all the pieces gathered she could do it herself. In a sense it is how Michael did it. No lightbringing power needed but what is that power?

I’m sure you remember back the finale of S3 where Lucifer’s face is licked by fire, his Devil face shows and his eyes glow red. Cain then agrees with Lucifer that ‘You cannot escape what you are’ moving forward in 5x16 Lucifer says I love you to Chloe and he is set on fire very much like he did in S3. Then we see a light we have associated mostly with Mum and Chloe wakes up.

So let’s think of this.

Lucifer apparently since his birth is known as the Lightbringer for no apparent reason. He lit the stars sure but only Mum and Dad are adamant on calling him that the only two beings in the universe that were omnipotent and above all? Omniscient. But they had a pitfall. Not even Mum could see she would be sent to Hell. That leads us to believe that there are choices which lead to as Uriel said to ‘patterns’. Different choices, different patterns. A thousands paths we can take but we cannot which one eventually will be taken and probably Dad and Mum held an optimism.

So let’s assume that when it came to Lucifer they knew one thing. That he had the ability to become a God - perhaps that is why Mum searched for him as he was also a key on changing things, if he became God then essentially she had won but she knew his potential. Now that’s another interesting thing…. Potential.

Dad in S5 tells Ella that the darker the darkness the brighter the light. In Lucifer, Dad mournfully notes that his son has so much light it blinds even him (aka Lucifer). Perhaps what we as perceived as unseen darkness -even him- is, in reality, a blinding light. Like a torch, you have no idea how to adjust your eyes to and everything seems like it's not light but darkness. So Lucifer had to go from being blinded by his own light to target it outwards in order to light the room. That was his potential.

Lucifer’s potential for goodness had to be harvested as was his ability to love. He liked humanity, respected them to a point, loathed them to another. Still does actually. But here is the thing. Potential think of Lucifer like a piece of coal or a battery whatever suits you best. Coal can be used to start a low grade fire that can spread from there but by itself it is but a black piece of nothing. So what if what we witnessed in the past five seasons was Lucifer being a slowly burning coal?

Let’s go back to Pops in S1. Lucifer is vulnerable when he takes Chloe out of the flaming restaurant and although he was burned he managed exceptionally well. In S4 he gets out of the exploding building albeit Chloe is far away and his clothes are not burned… Now let’s go to 5x10. Funny if you think that Lucifer manages to stop the chemist flame from burning which is weird as yes he stops the oxygen source to the flame so it us put out but two things happen. One his sleeve gets burned but it is also put out once the flamer does. Lucifer blames it on the polyester mix when we know he does not wear any and if he does it should have spread more.

If Lucifer was completely invulnerable then his suit would have been fine like it was in S4. Sure we have seen bullets not hurt him but have an issue with his clothes but to quote 4x02, it’s all about fire not the suit-superman effect.

Now in 3x23 Lucifer realises that Chloe does not need him but she choose to have him in her life and as such he is willing to leave his 2x12 miracle knowledge behind. In 5x06 Chloe talks about vulnerability which is based on a choice of Lucifer to be vulnerable around her. But with that choice to forward their relationship in 5x07 Lucifer is also making the choice subconsciously to expose himself to her emotionally and physically. At that point that choice stops his vulnerability probably because there is nothing to fear from her anymore. His vulnerability per 5x10 made him felt something he self actualised physically the vulnerability he felt but when she accepted him in her heart and stared a physical relationship his exposed himself differently emotionally.

Therefore Lucifer is still by choice vulnerable to Chloe but not physically as now he is in a healthier place. He opens up to her he is giving a conscious choice to be vulnerable to her while his body stops this stress induced self actualisation -perhaps- of being physically vulnerable. When he is hurt he shows it, he tells her what is going on even if it takes some time. Perhaps at the kitchen at her apartment Chloe didn’t draw blood from his body but certainly did from his soul and he allowed that.

When Mum in S2 said that Chloe was the key she was correct but not for lighting up the flaming sword but lightening up Lucifer. Lucifer needed to reach the point of choosing to be emotionally vulnerable around her and realising he was capable of love and that he loved Chloe, loved humanity.

In 5x16 when Lucifer is starting to burn up, most I’m sure went back to Michael’s words of Lucifer burning to the crisp if he went to Heaven as he was banned. But here is the thing Lucifer made a sacrificial move like the kid in 509 did for the family business. The ring simply bought him time. Lucifer left Heaven but I do not believe he was banned from there or at least I believe that Heaven had a safety net. We saw that even Gods have limitations so let’s think of this:

If Lucifer had listened to Mum and went to heaven the ring would have bought him some time but eventually he would have been either expelled or died(?). Again there are many things to consider here:

-What does it mean to be a God? Is it about power? Is it about being a Creator? Is it about the choice to become a carer? Lucifer became a carer in Hell albeit a rather unconventional one and as we may see things will change.

-Dad and Lucifer have a common thing they love humans and humanity in general. No other angel aside from Amenadiel and only due to his son does do far and in Amenadiel’s case it is not unconditional.

-The fact Lucifer was willing to be God not just for Chloe but because the system was rigged and he loved humans like Daniel and thought that he had to protect the innocent or at least provide a chance for a second chance.

-The song in the end when Lucifer is presented as a God, we listen to the Klergy sing that in a sense it was always mean to be.

I know I have been all over the place but let’s return to the whole lightbringer Lucifer now. So remember Dad when he gets angry. He is meteorologically inclined. In the family dinner and not only there we hear a thunderstorm rumbling close by, lighting ominously lit up the room in a way that Lucifer’s eyes light up in a very eerie yet calm way in many instances, in Le Mec’s case included.

There was always something brewing in Lucifer so when he gets to Heaven, with the same attributes Dad had and to a very different level, Lucifer experiences a metamorphosis. Now Mum and Dad didn’t have physical bodies but Lucifer did. Dad as well Mum in S5 provided us with a manifestation of a human body but they were not born in a flesh like celestial body like their kids did. So when Lucifer gets in heaven he is experiencing what Mum did in S2, he bled light but in a place of souls not on the earthly plane.

Again Lucifer’s body changes but he is not a ‘flesh sack’ as Mum puts it like Charlotte’s body was in S2 for Mum. He is still Lucifer that’s still his body but when Lucifer gets to Heaven he makes a choice again not just a throne to save humanity but his own life which of course leads us to the passage of the Revelation.

In the end, Chloe was the key and fuel for the coal to lit up to a full blazing fire. Not bad :) I mean he lit up Heaven long before he took off his ring ;)

“I choose you, I love you”

Michael, the Dragon & the ‘Virgin Mary’. But that’s a meta for another time, one that I have written in the S&S but will be updated for S6.

“And no matter how badly you want to nudge them in the right direction You know they need to find it on their own.”

#lucifer season 5 #lucifer spoilers #lucifer speculation #lucifer s5p2 #lucifer meta

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whump-town · 3 years

Text

God’s Gonna Cut You Down

Part 2!! (you can find part 1 here)

Warning: threat of domestic abuse and you know bad words

January 1972

It had been mortifying when Richard was caught with another woman and his prideful smile and easy shrug of the situation had only hurt Mary that much more. Through everything else, the drinking and the yelling and the hitting, Mary had still been able to tell herself that Richard did these things because he loved her. Extra whiskey washed down his stress, made him smile easier, and touch her like he meant it. When he raised his voice she’d already left him no other options, she just can be so forgetful. And… he’d only hit her a few times. Always when he was drunk and she’d messed something up. Anyone could forgive that.

The affairs… that was the first time Richard had done something with the explicit intent of hurting her. He hadn’t even cared when she’d cried. Had smiled when she told him about her friends, the way they meet her with high noses and expressions of disgust. He’d spun her into a pit of isolation, her own mother didn’t even want anything to do with her.

Persistently, desperately, Mary kept going back to her mother. She knew about her father, the affairs he had with his students over the years. Praying on the young university girls, the very reason they had hesitated to send her to Mary Baldwin. In the end, money and her pleading won through and she went to get a degree in English her eyes on being a teacher. That’s where she met Richard, five years older and making his way through law school.

Her mother might snuff her now but she is no different, neither are any of the women who treat her so differently now.

Her mother had caved after a few months, grew afraid of the way that weight seemed to melt off of Mary. It was unhealthy and fearing her daughter’s life she’d succumbed to her and offered her the advice that had been given to her: a child. Unfaithful men are just confused but this is not beyond Mary’s control, she just has to give him something to have. Men just need a little extra help, they’re just confused. They understand possession, though, and while they might not be afraid to hurt the lives they've made with wives give him a child and he’ll change.

That’s all it takes.

Having a baby was supposed to fix everything. Mary’s mother told her that babies make men happy and that if she wanted to settle Richard to settle down then a baby would do just that.

But she kept losing the babies. A little girl who they hadn’t named, blindsided by their grief. Two miscarriages far too soon in the pregnancy. Another when Richard pushed her into the stairs-- she’d told him it was for another reason and they didn’t tell a soul they even pregnant. After that, they stopped keeping track and she stopped telling him when one kept or when one didn’t.

Mary Hotchner might not make good on a lot of her promises but this time, she tells herself, this time is different. He’s just so little, hardly the size of her forearm. He’s their second chance, this tiny little baby is going to save their marriage. How wouldn’t he? Always watching the world around him, hardly ever cries, and always content just to be placed in the swing so long as he can see everyone.

She’s just changed him when Richard gets in. “Do you want to hold him?” she asks with a hopeful smile. He’s swaddled in his blankets, arms tucked to his sides, and sleepy drunk on milk. “He’ll probably go right to sleep.” Richard only held him in the hospital, only when a nurse made him.

Richard looks at the baby in her arms, up to Mary’s dark brown eyes and back down to his son’s soft blue eyes. He scoffs, “I don’t want to touch that little bastard.” He throws his briefcase down on the floor, kicking his shoes off in the same general direction. Carelessly, he brushes past them. “Why don’t you go give him to the bastard you had to have fucked to make him?”

Mary scrambles, unsure what to do. “Rich--”

He turns, blind with rage and she can feel the force of his words hit her sternum. Feels the baby in her arms jolt at the impact, whimpering as he squirms in his confines. “Don’t!” Richard demands leveling his finger at her. His eyes flick to Aaron and she holds him closer, turning her body so that she’s between them. Aaron cries out, kicking at the blankets wrapped snuggly around him. Richard lurches forward. “Shut him up!” Mary steps back. “I said shut him up before I--”

This baby is a second chance to their marriage, it’s going to change everything she just knows it.

----------

March 1973

Toddling on baby fat legs and clutching the sippy cup in his left hand, Aaron follows his mother across the lawn. Occasionally, he stumbles but is quick to right himself clutching at his mother’s freely billowing dress and going on. He’s much smaller than the other babies, underweight and not very tall, but he’s only a year and three or four months so he’s got time to blow them away. Mary’s positive her bright boy will manage it. He’s smart, they’ll see, small but he’s so very smart. Just like his daddy.

“Come here,” Mary beacons the baby from the edge of the backyard. His back is turned to her but she knows the look that has taken over his features. Those dark eyebrows knitting together as he dances his little fingers across his sippy cup-- brain working a mile a minute to figure out what it is that he’s discovered now. He makes a little sound, more to himself than to her, before turning to face her. She gets a glimpse of that confused look before a bright smile breaks across his face and he squeals happily before running to her.

She’s not sure what it is but she doesn’t like it when he gets that close to the woods. The thick trees line the property and every chance he gets, if he’s not rolling in the mulch of her flower garden, he’s standing at the trees watching. Aaron’s always watching. It scares her just how silent he is, the way he makes nearly no sound when approaching and will stand forever just content taking in the world around him. She thinks that’s why she wants him nowhere near those woods.

The woods are full of death and she wants all of his life and his curiosity to stay away from it. She knows what it is, knows what the woods do to men. To little boys with a little too much curiosity.

“Come to mommy,” she praises, opening her arms and enveloping him. Wiggling about in her arms but not to get away just to make her hold tighter. So she does, groaning and squeezing him until he’s breathlessly giggling. Enthralled by the pressure of her arms and perfectly content with the warmth of the day and her love.

----------

December 1974

He’s been sick all week, succumbing to a fever ravishing his tiny body. Outside snow pours down in thick clumps, the other children howling with joy every few hours as their parents let them back out in it. Snowmen pop up in lawns and footprints betray every hiding spot they run to but there is a clear, unabashed joy eating through the neighborhood. Aaron can only listen for it, falling in and out of naps on the sofa. Sniffling miserably and basking in his mother’s attention when she comes with a thermometer and whatever remedy her mother had called to inform her of now.

Richard gets home early, taking the time to knock the snow off his work shoes before seeing the mop of dark hair that betrays his son’s inactivity for today. He drops his briefcase by the door, scowling as he glances in the kitchen and finds Mary frowning into a pot. “What’s the boy doing inside?”

Mary jumps, not expecting her husband to suddenly appear like that, not having heard him pull into the driveway. She puts the lid over the soup and wipes her hands on her apron. “Sick,” she answers quickly, not sure how Richard is expecting her to answer. Not sure which of his personalities she’s playing with. Afraid an answer of such quick, unapologetic truth will sour quickly but blindly hopeful for the man she married. The man so eager to have children.

Richard hums, turning on his heel, and Mary’s heart stops as she realizes he’s going right for her Aaron. She fists her apron in her hands waiting in fear of what he intends to do.

He squats down by the sofa. “Aaron,” Richard calls softly. He brushes a thick strand of his son’s hair from his face, the lock heavy with his sweat. His hand swallows the cheek he strokes softly, Richard never really thinks about how small his son is. Now, as he sees Aaron’s body curled in on itself, fingers clutching his blanket to his face, and he can’t deny just how small the boy is. “Hey buddy,” he whispers when Aaron’s eyes start to flutter.

Aaron looks up at his father but does not utter a word.

“Come here,” Richard picks him up. Moving him so Aaron can wrap his arms around his father’s neck before Richard tucks his blanket snuggly around him.

“Where are you going?” Mary asks, stepping back when Richard stands and moves from the living room. She has no idea what his intentions are. To take Aaron up to his room? The poor boy could hardly make it down them this morning. She’d had to carry him to the couch in fear of the way his little legs had shaken under him. Is he silently boiling over with rage? Going to throw her baby out into the snow, command that he acts like a child. Go play with the others?

Richard presses a kiss to Aaron’s forehead, rubbing his back when he rises, soothing Aaron’s mindless whimper. “He hasn’t been able to see the snow,” Richard whispers, mindful of the boy tucked against his neck. He can feel his raging fever against his own skin, too hot to the touch. “Gonna cool him off,” Richard explains with a smile.

He steps out on the porch, smiling back at his wife as he shuts the door. Aaron shifts uncomfortably against his chest but Richard settles on one of the porch chairs and brings the edges of his coat up over him. The world is softened by the snow and the old groan of the chair Richard rocks them back and forth on. Aaron’s breathing becomes laborious, his little chest heaving as he rasps on each breath. The silence makes the awful sound deafening.

“You with me, buddy?” Richard asks, pressing his cold hand back to Aaron’s face. His son isn’t much of a talker, not even at three or in the rage of his terrible twos. He’s always just been much more content to watch and hum out his little replies. Odd behavior for people of most ages but it’s nearly alarming from a three-year-old. The way he cocks his head to the side when asked a question, a little hum before he conjures up a one 0r two-word response.

Today Aaron writhes against Richard, whimpering at the weight across his chest. The way his lungs feel as if they’re swelling but he’s too young to know the words. “Hurts,” he whispers. “Hard.” Each breath is hard to pull in as if his lungs are trying to squeeze shut around it. They ache deeply, all over.

Richard keeps rocking. Rubbing Aaron’s back and humming the faint tunes of songs under his breath until, eventually, Aaron falls back to sleep. He doesn’t carry the boy back inside until Mary calls them in for dinner. Richard holds his son through dinner, cherishing the way Aaron clings to him.

There will be very few moments like this ever again between father and son.

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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detectivejay-chuckles-halstead · 4 years

Text

Hello Again // Jay Halstead x Reader // Pt 1?

Description: Y/N comes back in Jay’s life asking for help. But it’s been almost a decade. How much has changed since they last saw each other?

Words: 3540

Warnings: TW Domestic Violence

Pairing: Jay x Reader

A/N: I’m back! This wasn’t one of the requests, and I promise I’ll get to them once my muse is really back. This was just a quick thing that I thought up today. I’m thinking about making it into a multi-chapter. Let me know if you guys are interested in seeing where this one goes or not. Thank you all! You’re the best! Love you guys and your support!

“I’m looking for Jay Halstead,” you told the older woman standing at the desk in the 51st Precinct as you wrapped your arms across your stomach even tighter. You hoped he was there. You didn’t know where else to go. There was literally nowhere else for you to turn. It had been years since you’d seen him, wondering if he’d even recognize you. But this was your Hail Mary.

“Can I get a name?” she asked gruffly, your jaw clenching. Would he even see you?

“Just tell him it’s an old friend.” At least it seemed he was there. You didn’t let her ask anymore questions as you quickly walked to the bench and sat down. It was difficult to keep your breathing steady, to keep yourself from completely losing it. So you did the only thing a sane person would do. You bent over, sticking your head between your knees, your hands on the back of your neck. There was no describing the amount it helped, having seen Jay do it a thousand times before to calm himself down.

You didn’t see him come down the stairs or see the woman point over to you. All you knew was the feeling of someone sitting next to you, not saying anything as he rested his hand on your back. Did he even know it was you, or was he just trying to be nice? How long you’d been sitting there was lost to you before you took a deep breath and sat up, looking at him for the first time in almost a decade.

He still looked like the same Jay you knew. A little more worse for wear, but being a cop would do that to a man. He tensed up, but kept his hand on your back.

“I need help, Jay,” you told him on the verge of tears again.

He nodded as he stood up, motioning for you to follow suit. There was no hesitation, but you pulled your sleeves down a little more, gripping the cuffs of your sweater for dear life as he led you upstairs to a secluded conference room. You ignored the looks of his colleagues as he led you away from their workspace.

“It’s been a long time, Y/N,” he told you with a sigh and look of worry as he shut the door behind the two of you.

“Yeah, well I wasn’t the one who left.”

-----

All good things come to an end. It was something you’d had to learn from an early age when your father left. Then your mother died. Then you bounced around in foster care until you were sixteen. So you shouldn’t have been surprised when the best thing in your life came to an end.

“I have to figure out who I am, Y/N,” Jay told you, standing in the kitchen. His duffle bag was packed and sitting next to the door. It seemed like just yesterday he waltzed into your bar with it slung over his shoulder.

“You don’t have to figure it out alone, Jay,” you countered, needing him to stay. It wasn’t a desire. Maybe early on. Now, it felt like he was the air you needed to breathe.

“I do though. Being here, being around what I’ve been doing since I got back...It’s not good. It’s not who I am. It’s not who I want to be.” Your heart dropped, feeling like he was calling you a mistake.

“If you’re going to leave, Jay, Just do it,” you spat. “I don’t need your explanations.”

-----

“What is it you need, Y/N?” he asked as you walked to the window, looking out. The view of the city wasn’t fantastic, but feeling the sun on your face made up for it.

“You have to understand something, Jay,” you began, looking over at him as he leaned against the wall, arms across his chest. “If I felt like...If I had any other option…” You took a deep breath. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

He didn’t say anything as you looked out the window again. “About three years ago, I met a guy. Jason.” You didn’t want to say his name, but knew you had to. “Things were going really good for a while. We got married...and then he changed. Drinking, drugs. I stood by him every time. Even when he made me sell the bar. A mix of paying off his debts and him not trusting me to be away from him...to be around temptation.”

You heard him sigh behind you, but you didn’t want to see the pity on his face. You’d seen it before on others. But coming from him would be a whole different story.

“Why come to me?” he specified. You could feel your bottom lip quiver as you tried to steady yourself.

“I tried going to the police before. I’m sure if you looked it up, you’d find at least twelve domestic disturbance calls over the past six months.” You finally brought yourself to look at him again, not seeing the pity you were used to but genuine concern. “If I stay, he’s going to end up killing me.”

He nodded, sighing again as he rolled his shoulders. “I’m going to go get my Sergeant, bring him in on this. I’m sure we can find something to get him locked up. We’ll get you set up in a safehouse, but there’s something that comes along with that.”

“I’d do anything, Jay.” You felt bad for not mentioning the biggest factor of all, but knew it would be coming up soon.

“You have to have absolutely no contact with him. At all. Period. If you’re serious about leaving, we can set you up with a new phone.” You nodded in agreement, looking up at the clock. “You have somewhere you need to be?”

“At three, yeah,” you answered, not giving him more than that.

“I’ll get my partner Hailey to take you wherever you need to go. She’ll take you to the safehouse afterward. Until we get him, one of us is going to be there with you.” You nodded again.

“Jay?” His head tilted to the side slightly, listening. “Thank you.” He gave you a small smile.

“You stick around in here for a few minutes and I’ll send Hailey in.” You turned your attention back to the window as you heard him leave. You couldn’t help but sigh, noticing how different he was from when you first met him.

-----

The bar wasn’t as busy as it usually was, which was a nice change of pace. You’d inherited it from the last owner when he decided to retire, not having to pay a penny. All you did was promise to keep it up and running. And that’s what you’d been doing for the past three years. It was mostly regulars, until you saw someone you didn’t recognize. He looked broken down, defeated. Seeing what he was wearing made it click for you.

“What’re you drinking, Halstead?” you asked with a smirk, his green eyes meeting yours in confusion. “Stitched on your uniform.”

“Bud Light,” he answered. You turned away for just a minute to grab a bottle out of the refrigerator, popping the top off before sliding it towards him. He must have just gotten back, based on the disheveled appearance.

“I don’t mean to be really forward, but I get off in an hour,” you told him with a smile, getting a smirk in return as he took a swig from the bottle.

“I’ll stick around.”

-----

“Hi,” a woman called out from behind you, startling you out of your thoughts. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” You turned to look at her, figuring it must be Hailey. “I’m Hailey. Why don’t we get out of here and get you all settled?”

You nodded in agreement, following her downstairs to a black car, the two of you sliding in the front.

“Where we heading for this errand?” she asked.

“Barton Elementary School,” you answered, your head leaning against the window. You honestly were relieved it was Hailey taking you to pick up your son instead of Jay. You didn’t want to talk about it with him yet, but you knew Hailey would have questions.

“Jay doesn’t know you have a kid does he?” she finally asked after about ten minutes into the ride. You knew it would take at least another twenty to get to the school.

“No. And I’d appreciate if you didn’t tell him. I want to be the one to talk to him about it. A lot has changed in the nine years we haven’t talked.” You could see her nod out of the corner of your eye. “I’m not a bad mom, I promise. It’s just…”

“I get it. I grew up in a similar environment. Mom’s still with Dad though. This makes you the best mom,” she assured you as you tried to keep the tears back again. “I’m going to let Kim know to bring kids clothes as well when you go inside. I’ll let her know to keep it on the down low. It’ll be mostly her and me staying with you though, if that’s okay with you?”

“Yeah. Will Jay…?”

“Yeah, he’ll stay with you sometimes. We just figured it would make you feel more comfortable if it was the three of us rotating staying with you. He’ll be there tonight. Just a heads up.” You just nodded again. “So, do you have a boy or a girl?”

The two of you kept up idle small talk until she pulled up in front of the building, letting you get out and go inside to get Blake. He kept talking about how good of a day it was on the way to wherever Hailey was taking the two of you, talking about his friends and all the stuff he’d learned.

“Mommy, why are we here?” he asked, as the three of you walked up the stairs into the furnished apartment. It was definitely better than where you were living currently, so that was a plus.

“We’re going to stay here for a while,” you answered, kneeling in front of him, holding his small hands in your own. “Jason and Mommy aren’t together anymore. So my friends are going to stay with us for a bit while I figure out what we’re going to do next.”

“Is it because Jason hits you?” he asked softly as if it was a secret. You were thankful you couldn’t see Hailey’s reaction to your son asking you this.

“Yeah, it is buddy. But what have I always promised you?”

“That Jason would never hurt me.” You nodded, pulling him in for a hug, kissing the top of his head.

“Why don’t I show you where your room is going to be? My friend Kim brought some toys and stuff for you to play with. And your Mommy and me are going to talk about grown-up stuff,” Hailey suggested, Blake quickly going along with it as she led him to the second bedroom, leaving you alone with your thoughts again if only for a minute.

You’d slid your sweater off, leaving you in your tank top. Bruises were very evident on your arms and chest, more hidden under the clothing. Jason always made sure to make it easy to cover up.

“Damn, Y/N,” Hailey said as she walked back into the room, the two of you sitting on the couch.

“I really don’t want to talk about it right now, Hailey,” you told her, resting your head in your hands, propping your elbows on your knees as you tried to just breathe.

“He looks just like his dad,” she said, changing the topic to one you still didn’t want to talk about. But you knew you would have to.

“Like I said before, I’m not a horrible mom,” you reiterated as you looked up at her. “I’ve given Blake everything I could. And I would have given him his dad, but we didn’t end on the greatest of terms.”

“I’m not here to judge you. Just to understand. Jay’s always wanted a family, I’m sure you know that,” she reminded you.

“Jay and I met the night he landed back in Chicago from his last deployment. It was a whirlwind romance for six months. And one day he told me he had to figure out who he was now. The way he talked about those six months made it seem like he’d realized how much of a mistake all of it was. Not that I blame him. We’d both made some stupid choices, but he left without looking back. It wasn’t like I could easily get a hold of him when he left. So, I decided I’d just do it on my own. I wasn’t going to tie him down to his mistakes,” you explained.

“Jay isn’t the same guy who left that day, Y/N. He’s changed a lot. Mostly for the better, I’m sure.” You couldn’t help but smile at her assuring words, as if she knew exactly what to say. “When you tell him, it might take some time for him to warm up to the idea though. You both have so much to talk about, and I can’t exactly tell you how he’s going to react. Just...give him time.”

“Blake has asked about him before. Not often. I never know how to answer. I’m not stupid, I know it was my choice to not try and find Jay and tell him. So, I tell him about the Jay I knew. The brave soldier, the amazing guy.”

“No worries there,” she interrupted with a chuckle. “He’s still very much both of those things.”

“Thank you, Hailey.”

“It’s no problem. I’m going to stick around until Jay gets here. He’s bringing pizza apparently, but it’ll be a few hours until he gets here. Why don’t you try and get some sleep? I’ll make sure he doesn’t meet Blake before you two have the chance to talk.” You nodded as you stood, walking into the other bedroom and laying down.

-----

You stared down at the two lines, in complete shock. There was no way this was happening. No possible way this was happening. Yet, as you stare at the pregnancy test, you knew it was true. Deep down in your soul, you knew it was true. And you didn’t know if you’d be able to do it.

It had been three months since Jay had left, and you’d chalked up all the symptoms to stress and heartbreak. Until you realized how late your period was. Which is what led you to staring at the positive pregnancy test. And you had no idea what to do.

An hour later, and many laps pacing your small apartment later with your phone in your hand, you hit the dial button. It only rang twice before you heard his voice on the other end, your heart fluttering as your free hand rested on your stomach.

“Y/N?” he asked, but you didn’t know what to say. “You there? You okay?”

You couldn’t do it, so you hung up. He didn’t try calling back. And it was in that moment that you knew you could do it alone.

-----

“Hey, Y/N,” Hailey said, knocking on the door before cracking it open to pop her head in. You stretched, wincing as you looked at her. “Jay’s parking right now. Blake is passed out. I gave him some soup Kim had stocked up.”

“Thanks,” you told her as you got up, pulling on a different sweater. You didn’t know if you’d be able to have this talk with Jay if he was too focused on the bruises Jason left in his wake. You didn’t know if you could have this discussion with him at all if you were being completely honest with yourself. But you didn’t have any other option. These were the cards you’d been dealt. And now you had to figure out how to work with it.

You walked into the living room, seeing Hailey leave as Jay walked in with the pizza. He made a beeline for the counter, putting the box down.

“Didn’t know if you would be hungry or not,” he told you with a smile. You could hear Hailey lock the door behind her. “Figured a supreme from your favorite place would be a safe bet.”

“We need to talk, Jay.” His smile dropped as you motioned for him to join you on the couch. “Do you remember three months after you left, I called you and then hung up?”

“Yeah. Why?” he answered, confusion plastered on his face.

“I just need to know...why didn’t you ever call back? Or call me in general? Was I that much of a mistake?” you finally asked, voice soft. All you wanted to do was curl in on yourself, to hide from everything. But that wouldn’t work. You were thirty-three, you had to face it like an adult.

“I thought it was a pocket dial that night, honestly. And I wanted to call. I just…” He took a deep breath as he looked at you, really looked at you for the first time all day. “I couldn’t bring myself to because I felt ashamed. I loved you, and I left. There was no way you were going to take me back, so what was the point? I went back to the bar once, but they said you were on vacation. I took it as a sign.”

You’d never taken a vacation in your life, so you knew what he was talking about. You’d taken a few months off for maternity leave. To think, he was just downstairs from your apartment while you were upstairs with Blake.

“Iwaspregnant,” you quickly told him as he looked at you, confusion back at full force as you took your own deep breath. “I was pregnant, Jay. That’s why I called you that night. And I couldn’t bring myself to tell you. Because you’d left. You’d made your choice. And it wasn’t fair for me to try and drag you back.”

“Oh.” That’s all he had to say was ‘oh’? Surely there was more.

“I kept it, Jay. Kept him. He’s asleep in the second bedroom right now,” you finally said. You couldn’t distinguish just one emotion on his face, seeming to be a mix. “His name is Blake. He’s nine. And he looks just like you.”

“I had the right to know,” he finally told you, breaking the silence as his voice wavered, jaw clenched. “I deserved to know.”

“I know, Jay. God, you think I don’t know that? But what was I supposed to do, huh?” You stood up, not able to sit next to him. “You’d said it yourself. It wasn’t good for you to be around what you’d been doing. It wasn’t who you were. It wasn’t who you wanted to be. Those were your words before you left. You were the one who left!”

“That didn’t matter!” he finally said, voice raising. “I missed nine years of my son’s life! You had nine years to reach out to me! Was this why you came today? This was the easiest way to tell me?” You couldn’t help but flinch at his words, expecting fists next. “I’m sorry,” he said, calmer. You hadn’t realized that you’d squeezed your eyes shut, taking an offensive stance just waiting for the first blow.

“Mommy?” Blake asked from the doorway, rubbing his eyes as he held onto one of the stuffed animals Kim had left for him. You didn’t look at Jay as you quickly walked over to him, scooping the boy up in your arms.

“It’s okay buddy,” you assured him, holding him close as your hand rubbed circles on his back. “We’re safe here. Mommy just got into an argument with her friend. You’re okay.” You couldn’t help but reassure him as you took him back into the bedroom.

“I thought Jason was here,” he mumbled as you laid him down, pulling the blanket over him.

“You’re never going to see Jason again. I promise,” you assured him, kissing his forehead before smoothing his hair back. His eyes fluttered closed as you sat next to him, waiting for his breathing to even out, signaling that he was asleep. You could hear Jay behind you, but you didn’t want to face him. You had to though.

You stood up, taking his hand as you walked out of the room, shutting the door behind the two of you.

“That’s my son,” he said softly, looking down at you in awe. It took everything in you not to reach out, to stroke his cheek, to embrace him.

“That’s your son,” you repeated back. “The night you left, you made it seem like it was all a mistake. That we were a mistake. And I was scared that you’d think the same thing about him. I should have told you.” He didn’t let you keep talking, bringing you into a hug. And for the first time in a long time, you felt like things were going to be okay.

#jay halstead #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead x reader #fanfiction

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