#so i lost motivation to do aquarium stuff for ages after that. and i was just getting back into it and making plans to get more supplies etc | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

endlich-allein · 3 years

Text

Interview with Till about his life: he fought with his father, killed his beloved dog, swam on a wild river and worked on suffering. How Till Lindemann's mind works

"I will finish you off" and why you fought for the German army.

Werner Lindemann wanders around the room, interrupting the silence with strange questions, writing something down. His motive is to get to know his son and make him a friend. But it's complicated. Generational conflict.

"My island of tranquility is shaken every day. The day before yesterday, a guy pulled on my socks because his were torn. Yesterday he didn't put out a single lamp in the house. Now, with voluptuous delight, he spits cherry pits into the cat's fur. Is this grown boy really an adult?"

The apprenticeship in Rostock, where you have to do window production after graduation, is the limit of boredom. Till Lindemann moved to his father in the countryside so that he could forget about the hustle and bustle of the city and not fall under the article for anti-social attitudes. He thought of a new life, in which there was no pointless work, and arranged an attic in his father's house.

In the mornings over coffee, he scolded life that everything went according to schedule. And listened very loudly to music - electronics and metal. My father didn't understand and grumbled: “I matured late. Naturally, I wanted to listen to the music I liked, but I could not get my hands on these records. For example, my father did not understand when I bought the Alice Cooper record for a month's salary.

Werner Lindemann was a children's writer who went through the war.

At the height of his career he disappeared for weeks on literary tours - his fame spread to teachers and librarians across the country. His father pecked at Lindemann for refusing to work and promised to turn him in:

"My willful child. What doesn't fit his standards is rejected as nonsense or crap." So he took a job as a carpenter, where he made shovel cuttings and cart wheels. The head foreman constantly drank vodka during the day, didn't want to be annoyed with questions and addressed the long-haired Lindemann with the nickname: "Mozart!" This suited him.

Werner Lindemann talked about war, hard existence and limitations. For example, about a grenade splinter that remained in his body. Lindemann did not believe in all these stories - but categorically did not accept service, war and murder:

“After that I objected: “I would hide, I would not go to war. Why did you even let yourself be dragged into this? You could have hidden."

And he said: “It didn't work out. They searched for it and it took away."

Then I said: “I would rather go under arrest. Never in my life, I would go to the front line to shoot people. It's against my nature. It would be better if I went to jail."

Much of the time father and son were simply silent, even while watching television.

"He regularly made me feel guilty, to say the least, he placed himself on a pedestal towards me: I shouldn't complain. At your age, I ran barefoot through the stubble, and in my stomach - a potato in a uniform."

The only acceptance is Mike Oldfield's music: "One day my father came to grumble again. At that moment I was listening to Mike Oldfield, and he sat down and said: "That sounds interesting."

For me it was like a quantum leap: my father sits in my room, listens to my music and thinks it was good. Probably because of melancholy. He was sitting in a rocking chair that I made myself - at the time I was working as a carpenter on a farm. I, too, always sat in an armchair, immersed myself in music and smoked hand-rolled cigarettes."

The conflict was intensified by a fight. Lindemann bought a Trabant car, installed speakers in it and tested the sound - loud as usual. “Then my father came and I had to turn off this fucking music. It was kind of loud for him. He was then fiddling around his cases of flowers, and then suddenly the situation escalated. I think he slapped me while I was still in the car.

He leaned toward me and hit me with the back of his hand. I made some bullshit remarks like, "Leave me alone," something like that. That was a provocation to him, and he said: "If you do that again, I'll hit you for real." And I said, "Then you'll get it back. Because you're crazy. Don't you dare to hit me anymore."

And then he hit me with his palm again. He wasn't controlling himself.

He was exalting himself. Instantly he introduced himself as a boxer - he had boxed in the Hitler Youth - and I just... I thought I didn't hit him, I just pushed him away. And then he stood in front of me again, "Come on, I'll finish you, you haven't got a chance!" Somehow. After that, he went up to the attic and threw all my stuff out the window.

It happened over the weekend, my sister was there, a lot of screaming, serious drama. Then I packed my things, put them in the car, went to a friend's house and never went into his house again. At first I lived with this friend, and a week later I bought myself a house in the village."

His father's book is about his son, which the son will only open up after the death of the father.

Lindemann is a late child. He was born when his father was 36. The gap in their relationship was felt in everyday life and perception of the world. Werner Lindemann woke up early in the morning, worked with the circular saw under the windows and did not understand when his son slept until noon after a working week.

Lindemann's parents then lived separately, but kept in touch. Mom worked as a journalist and discussed her texts with his father. "She still lived in Rostock and always came to see him only on weekends. Mostly on Sundays she came back quite early, because she couldn't stand the stress of being with him, either."

In 1988, the book “Mike Oldfield im Schaukelstuhl Notizen eines Vaters" In this book, Lindemann Senior describes the relationship with his son (whom he calls Timm in the book), who settled with him at the age of 18. The book was written in the 80s and laid on the table until the German Democratic Republic and the Federal Republic of Germany were reunited.

Werner Lindemann wanted his son to take up writing too. But this only amused him, although as a child he wrote poetry. At the age of 13, little Till Lindemann and his father were returning home along the bumpy road to Mecklenburg. They talked about career self-determination:

"You should already have thoughts about what you want to become, boy." My answer: "I don't know yet, maybe a fisherman on the high seas."

But immediately, no matter what I said, objections arose: “But then you have to get a certificate of maturity. But then you will be away all the time. But then you won't be able to start a relationship."

There was always a “but”.

At some point it got on my nerves, as usual. And I said: "Worst case scenario, I'll just become a writer.

I still remember how alienated his face became. "And what do you think then, what do I do! It's a very hard job! In fact, it's not even a job, it's a passion. And it's a job that's supposed to be enjoyable."

I said, "I don't know anybody who works with pleasure."

"Yeah, that's the problem. You have to look for a job that gives you pleasure." Then I say again, "But some people never get to choose..." This gigantic discussion happened because I didn't take his profession seriously. At the same time, he was completely lost, funny!"

Lindemann thoughtfully read his father's book, in which he comprehends their relationship, after his death. Faked for hidden anger and indecision. For example, in a situation where their dog Kurt was bitten by a fox. The father was frightened because of rabies: “At the same time, we did not even know whether he was bitten by a fox or not. The father immediately called the huntsman. But I said: no one will enter this courtyard and shoot the dog. I'll do it myself if I really need it. At some point I really had to kill the dog."

Lindemann is not a monster. The animals he fiddled with are an important attribute of childhood. He had an aquarium and hamsters, brought mice and rats home, and was friends with dogs. “Like many children of new buildings, he felt the need for someone alive, in need of love,” said Werner Lindemann. Sometimes the appearance of an animal in the house was surprising:

“This guy will never say what he's up to. He appears on the doorstep at the same time as me. He gets out from his vehicle, throws his coat open and puts a young black shepherd in my hands. "Your Christmas present!"

Till's father is speechless. My son stands before me like the sun's little brother. Touchingly concerned, he directs me into the house, working out a plan for the animal husbandry, accommodation and diet of our new pet housemate.

With confusion, a question flies from my lips, "Wheredid you get the dog from?" "Timm" is gibbering, "Imagine, the mason in the barnyard wanted to hang him, simply wanted to strangle him with a rope, said he was a worthless eater..."

Werner Lindemann died of stomach cancer in 1993, when his son was 30. They didn't finally reconcile, but Till visited him in his last days and was there for him with his mother: "They couldn't be without each other, even though they lived apart. Unreal, but my mother never had another man afterwards. To this day she can't let go of him."

- Not going to the Olympics in Moscow and ending up in the German ghetto

Lindemann had the knowledge and the potential to be a swimmer. And a shyness that pounded harder three days before the competition than concerts in front of crowds of thousands. "I know how difficult it is to develop willpower and stamina and instill those attributes. In the GDR this was instilled in us by coaches and so-called functionaries."

Lindemann came to swimming at the age of eight and devoted his entire youth to the sport. He would get up for training at five in the morning and pass out in the evening. His grandmother watched him from the stands. At a competition in Leipzig she shouted at the coach, who told Lindemann off for a poor result. The grandmother took the coach by the ear and said: "How do you talk to my grandson?"

Sports tightened up his upbringing and developed self-discipline. “Drilling - probably the boy has already received this experience as a swimmer,” Lindemann's father wrote. - Once he had to take second place in a competition, but by no means first place. Of course, he got carried away, forgot about it, became the first, thanks to which he received a shouting for indiscipline. And whenever he lost in the future, his coach would torture him at practice for a long time and yelled at him: "Even if you win, you're not a winner yet!"

Lindemann swam the 1.5 km freestyle and could have gone to the 1980 Olympics in Moscow. Everything was ruined when he left the hotel without permission during a competition in Florence: "I didn't want to run, but just wanted to look at the city. Cars, bikes, girls. I was caught and kicked out of the team, but then I didn't give the required results either."

Lindemann competed at the European Junior Championships, but did not go any higher. After the story in Florence, his career in sport slipped away. Perhaps an abdominal injury influenced his departure. Lindemann is gone, but he doesn't yearn: "I was relatively young. There were no good [memories] left. I was glad it was over."

"The hardest part was getting back to normal. I fell into a real hole. My home was no longer a sports school, but a ghetto in Rostock. Now I stood out through drinking and fighting. I used to be surrounded only by beautiful ladies who were interested in swimming. Now I had fierce women standing in front of me asking, "How come you don't drink?" When I was shy about approaching a girl, it was interpreted as: "Are you gay?"

Lindemann now works with a coach and swims a few kilometers before his tours to get in shape: "When I exercise, I feel a certain lightness - not only physically, but also mentally. I just feel better. The main problem is staying in shape. That's where self-discipline comes into play. Teeth grinding is important."

- Three weeks in the wild and loneliness as a creative tool

Emotionally, concerts = sports:

"How do I go on tour? Hungry. And happy. It is good to compare concerts with sport. You don't want to do both at first. You don't want to go on stage. You don't want to go to the pool. You don't want to go to the boxing ring. It all happens with reluctance. It has to be accepted somehow, that's life: spring, summer, fall, winter.

When it's done, winter's gone, the blooming begins, greenery appears, it gets bright, and you start to get a taste for it. When it's over, you feel happy. Then the body produces a sea of chemistry, a lot of happiness hormones. I think the body rewards itself."

The stage, like sports, is an embarrassment, but a necessity. Lindemann wore dark glasses in order to collect fewer views from the audience. Therefore, a couple of steps before the water, he looked at the pool with a shiver. You need to cope with yourself in order to open up to new emotions.

Lindemann's gut requires solitude and moderate solitude. This is the point:

“Loneliness is always good for a creative push - you drink a glass of wine and you feel even shitier. Art is not complete without suffering; art exists to compensate for suffering."

With his friend Joey Kelly, Lindemann spent three weeks on the Yukon River. They paddled through the wilderness in a kayak for eight to 10 hours each and lived in a tent. Lindemann didn't take a tape recorder with him, so he transferred the lyrics wandering in his head on paper.

They were catching inspiration and atmosphere:

"There were times when we wouldn't say a word for hours, but then: look there, look there! It was breathtakingly beautiful. These relatively fast-changing panoramas and skies, layers of clouds, the colors.

Except for a few bears and wolves, it's hard to see anyone else out there, it's exhilarating. Along the way we saw two hunters setting traps. No one else.

I grew up in the countryside, and I have a very strong connection to nature. I love fishing, hunting. It's an archaic experience that I like to revisit over and over again. When I'm in the city for too long, I start to miss it."

To recreate situations in the Yukon, Lindemann and Kelly trained for nine months on the Rhine river in Germany because of its liveliness.

"We went down the Rhine to where the transport ships create huge bow waves. If we hadn't had a coach with us, we probably would have been sunk by the side wave impact already during our first attempt," Lindemann said.

Together with Kelly, he had four sessions with two coaches and swam from Cologne to Koblenz [more than 100 kilometers by car]. Lindemann trained separately each week on the lakes in Mecklenburg. It's both physically challenging and savage identical to being natural.

In 2015, Till started his solo project Lindemann. On the album Skills In Pills, the song Yukon was released, in which the lyrics appeared first, and then the music.

- "My lyrics come from pain rather than desire."

The country boy is big and not much of a talker. That's how the Rammstein members saw him at the start, when they were hanging out at home. "He looked cool, like a big peasant talking one sentence an hour," keyboard player Christian "Flake" Lorenz recalled. - He always had food and vodka. He'd just steal a couple of ducks somewhere and cook them on a tray. And then, frozen like in Sleeping Beauty, there were people lying in corners and on trunks in his house."

Lindemann loves and appreciates home gatherings. This came from my father, who always had guests. “In my opinion, this is the little bit that I inherited from him. Throwing parties and gathering people. Throwing parties and getting people together. He just enjoyed being a good host. The house was always full of guests from Leipzig, from Rostock, foreign guests, even from Kazakhstan.

It was always exciting for him. He stood at the stove, cooked, bought an abundance of wine, and there was always a fire in the garden. At some point he stopped drinking, then he left the party at 21:00 and the whole company continued to feast. And in the morning he got up at four, cleaned and tidied up."

Till Lindemann is about self-digging, overcoming and childish shyness, which is covered by a pumped-up figure of a swimmer. This is how Lindemann decrypts himself:

• “And I really am like a big child - ill-mannered, but harmless. People think that I am always strong, explosive. This is not true. I am sensitive and easily hurt, but in love I am romantic and passionate."

• “At the very beginning, you sit somewhere in a dark room, open a bottle of wine and figure out how to make the lyrics popular with the music. At first you only have a vague idea of what it could be.

And when, three years after recording, mixing, and more mixing, developing the artwork, all this nonsense, then you stand on stage, and what you came up with then really works, when you manage to get 20 thousand people to raise their hands, then you experience incredible sensations."

• “Art is a kind of therapy.

When I feel that something is arising inside me, domineering and is most often dark, I need to give it a way out, otherwise it will simply crush me. So destruction and self-destruction are the two pillars on which my creativity is based.

But everyone chooses this for himself.

• “My lyrics arise from feelings and dreams, but still more from pain than by desire. I often have nightmares, and I wake up at night sweating, as I see terrible bloody scenes in my dreams. My lyrics are a kind of valve for the lava of feelings in my soul.

We are all struggling to hide behind good manners and outward decency, but in fact we are governed by instincts and feelings: hunger, thirst, horror, hatred, the desire for power and sex. Of course, there is also additional energy in us - this is love. Without it, all human feelings would fade away."

- "When you're constantly living someone else's life, it's very hard to get back into your own skin. I like that in principle, but sometimes you start to get confused - are you out of a role or not yet. You're already Till, or you're still a homicidal maniac."

- "I hate the noise. I hate the chatter. I expose myself to it, which is pure masochism. And then I have to protect myself from it. Noise makes you crazy. You die in it."

• “I think there is no God. And if he is and actually allows all the misfortunes on this earth, then he must punish me along with other sufferings. I will not pray to such a god."

This is how the members of Rammstein see Till - flexible and with a split personality:

Guitarist Paul Landers: "Till is so good that when you let him know that his lyrics should go in a different direction, the very next day he brings a new version of the song."

Guitarist Richard Kruspe: “He's a hell of an extreme man. He dives very deeply into situations where I cannot follow him. Everything he does is very extreme; I don't know anyone who does it. "

Drummer Christoph Schneider: "I would not want to be in Till's shoes: his soul is tormented by doubts and contradictions, he is equally a moralist and a monster."

June 1, 2021 - Translate by Lindemann Belgium

#very interesting #till's life #till is love 🖤#till lindemann #till 2021 #werner lindemann #flake lorenz #paul landers #christoph schneider #richard kruspe #oliver riedel #joey kelly #rammstein #t.lindemann #t.lindemann 2021

187 notes · View notes

diyunho · 4 years

Text

The Joker x Reader -”What Death Tastes Like” Part 4

Scarecrow’s daughter might be only 22, yet the terminal lung cancer she was diagnosed with six months ago didn’t discriminate against her age; the young woman didn’t show worrisome symptoms until it was too late. Y/N always had a fascination for the much older King of Gotham and despite the consequences, maybe it’s finally time to do something about it.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5

Your Birthday

“Look at him, parading like a rooster!” Emma elbows you, huffing.

The Joker is on the terrace, nosing inside the coolers to find his favorite grape juice brand since he knows it should be in there somewhere. He’s sporting very dark purple pants and a much lighter shade purple shirt, fitted on his body to perfection plus two gold chains around his neck which makes one wonder why he didn’t add more giving his sense of fashion.

You pile up some fruits on your plate, gazing The Clown’s way with a smirk:

“Those trousers make his butt stand out.”

“That’s probably the reason for wearing them,” Emma sighs and you both burst up laughing, amused at the truth she admitted aloud.

“I feel this lustful desire of spanking him,” you blur out. “I bet your dad only unbuttoned half of his shirt because he obviously wants me to unbutton the other half: that sexy rooster can frizzle my feathers anytime he wishes,” you tease and she covers your mouth in a hurry.

“Y/N, can you not?!”

“Sssttt, you’ll wake up the baby,” the muffled sentence distracts Emma and she lets go, apologizing to the five weeks old:

“Oh, sorry angel,” she lingers over the baby basket placed on the empty table next to the self-serve buffet: Frost’s son is napping under the umbrella while his parents mingle for a little bit with the guests that already arrived at your birthday party. How did Jonny end up here? The crazy motive: his employer is to blame for the mess he created one hour ago, already fixed due to your sense of urgency.

The Joker showed up in time at 3pm for his “date” like you instructed; you opened the door and he immediately handed you a car sit containing the tiny human.

“Happy Birthday, Y/N!”

“Ummm…thank you,” the hesitant Y/N invited him inside.

“I got you a present,” he widely grinned, confident nobody else came up with a better gift idea.

“… Whose baby is this?!...” you followed him, carefully walking with the adorable bundle in the living room; the sleeping treasure fussed for a few seconds and went back to dreaming, unaware he was away from his parents.

“Frost’s,” J answered and you turned towards the entrance, baffled.

“I’ll go open the door for him then.”

“That’s not necessary; he didn’t come with me.”

“What do you mean?!”

“He’s off today. I just went to his house to drop up some ammo, then sneaked in the nursery and took the baby.”

“And his parents were ok with that?!” you crinkled your nose, more and more suspicious regarding his behavior.

“They don’t know,” The King of Gotham calmly informed.

“You kidnapped Frost’s son?!”

“I didn’t kidnap him,” J rolled his eyes, offended at your accusation. “I took him.”

“Without his parents’ consent. So you kidnapped him!” you gasped at the insane revelation.

“I’m in charge,” The Joker logic surfaced instantly. “I don’t require consent! Why are you staring at me like this?”

“I keep on hoping you’re bluffing,” you cringed at his argument. “Give me your phone!” you ordered and the item was shortly in your possession, although you had to witness a lot of grievance from his part as you searched for Frost’s digits.

Praise heavens you did since his wife was absolutely hysterical when you called: their offspring was missing from the cradle and Jonny might not be the type of person that panics, yet he had a total nervous breakdown.

They were fast to come and pick up Evan, so yeah… that’s how The Frosts ended up at your birthday bash… Full credit goes to their amazing boss!

*************

After one hour

“Do me a favor,” your father continues his conversation with J. “I want you to check with your contacts and try to find more Cromyxillium for me; I’m in desperate need.”

“Don’t you have enough for Y/N?” The Joker growls at the view of Bane’s son entertaining himself with you and Emma.

“For now. Tomorrow I’m starting her on full therapy; I found a new formula to bind the molecules together, this way her system won’t reject the medicine like it did last week. It will make her sick but I’ll be here to supervise the entire process.”

“Aren’t you afraid it will kill her?” J’s sensitive personality comes to full bloom in the best of moments.

Jonathan Crane is silent, then articulates painful facts he can’t avoid sharing:

“I am… I don’t have any other options on such a short amount of time…My daughter is fading… her lungs are finished…” and he gulps, straining to regain composure. “If this experimental drug can restore damaged tissue, it can aid with her cancer… She agreed to the test because I’m a super smart dad,” he grumbles. “That’s what she said…that I’m a super smart… I might be… I don’t even know if my remedy will work or if it will speed up her demise.”

“Fine, I’ll inquire on the product,” The Joker agrees. “What’s in for me?”

Your father takes a deep breath, exasperated.

“What do you want?”

“Excuse me,” The King of Gotham interrupts. “I think my pride’s at stake: somebody’s attempting to steal my date!” he inflates his chest and finds it imperative to notify the puzzled parent. “Y/N’s my date, didn’t she tell you? I was strictly forbidden to bring Mara so I had to maintain my reputation somehow.”

“What reputation??!!! She mentioned it and I thought the whole idea meant only you being obnoxious!” Jonathan huffs.

“I am obnoxious!” The Joker sourly admits and crushes the large group forming due to Sam’s entertaining abilities.

“Hey Y/N, where’s the grape juice?” he finds a random pretext to get your attention as you gesture towards the end of the terrace.

“There’s a bunch on ice,” you giggle at Sam’s story and J lies:

“I couldn’t find any.”

“Maybe someone moved it,” you detach from the gathering and stroll with him in the area you saw what he’s asking for.

“Who gave you that pendant?” The Clown Prince of Crime investigates since you definitely didn’t have the jewelry earlier.

“Sam,” you touch the delicate diamond heart attached to the platinum chain. “It’s so pretty, I love it.”

“He scored major points with the birthday girl, huh?” J mocks.

“Well, apparently some people are aware of my preferences and some give me presents I can’t keep,” you hint and The Joker comprehends what you aim at.

“My gift was brilliant! You said that if we would have gotten married we would have had a bunch of kids, thus it means you adore them. That’s why I brought Evan.”

“Yeah, and his parents already took him home, leading to the reasonable conclusion we can assess from the fiasco: you actually don’t have a present for me. Oh, would you look at this: grape juice!” you sarcastically show him the huge pile of containers exactly where it’s supposed to be.

“How did I miss this?” J pretends to be shocked and sneers when he notices Bane’s son coming near you two. “Dance with me!” he unexpectedly sweeps you in his arms. “It’s a slow song, just move your feet,” he encourages. “What do you want for your birthday then?” Emma’s dad distracts the astonished Y/N furthermore.

“Hmmm… I can settle for a kiss?” you unconsciously caress the short hair on the back of his head while he quickly pecks your cheek. “Um… if I wanted a jellyfish sting I could have went to the aquarium,” you sassily react and The Joker rolls his eyes. “I want a proper kiss, unless you have those reserved for Mara.”

“Why are we talking about my girlfriend?”

“On and off girlfriend,” you emphasize. “A huge indicator you don’t care that much about her. You need a woman that genuinely loves you; she’s a catalyst fueling your tendencies, you don’t need that! You don’t fight fire with fire, OK?” you almost shout and ironically enough he decides to engage in your speech.

“What do you fight it with then?”

“Dynamite!” you proudly state. “Blow up everything, wipe the slot clean and start fresh!”

“A-ah…A-ha…”, he mischievously agrees. “I assume you’re the dynamite in this scenario?” the silver grimace spreads across his face.

“Perhaps.”

“Why is Bane’s son here?” The Joker changes the subject. “He keeps lurking around and it annoys me.”

“Don’t be jealous,” you mislead him on purpose. “Sam was my boyfriend in high school,” you brief your so called partner. “I’m fond of him.”

“Why would I be jealous?!” The King’s mood switches and you realize yours is also: the sole detail he’s interested in is to emphasize zero attraction for his daughter’s friend.

“Yeah…why would you be jealous?...” you sadly smile and let go before the song ends. “Listen, I have to return to my guests, alright? You don’t have to stay; you should go back to your fire because you certainly don’t know what to do with dynamite,” the meaningful reply leaves him intrigued again: no cocky response to your clever twist in words since he already lost the passive-aggressive altercation.

************

9:49pm

You gaze at the starry sky, cozy on the inflatable mattress; the mesh on top of the tent is so thin you can hardly tell it’s there. Very quiet in the garden… you should have went to the river with the others, yet you felt the urge to be alone and rest before you reprise your treatment tomorrow.

“Y/N, are you in here?” The Joker’s voice is heard.

“No!” you grouchily snarl.

He unzips the tent and squeezes inside, obeying to your protest:

“Close it! I don’t want bugs in here!”

“I’m hiding from Crane, he made me do a bunch of stuff in preparation for your Cromyxillium therapy!” J complains to indifferent ears.

“I thought you bailed hours ago,” you coldly articulate.

“I was held prisoner in the underground lab! You should be thankful for my services.”

“You don’t do anything for free and I’m sure you’re over exaggerating anyway!”

“Whatever!” The Joker drops on the mattress next to you, deeply exhaling. “I’m beat; I’ll rest for a bit before I drive.”

You rest your fingers on your tummy, struggling to remain calm.

“I missed hanging out with my cuddling buddy,” J nozzles in your shoulder and you give him an insolent glare.

“We’re not cuddling buddies!”

“That’s too bad; I precisely came to deliver your birthday present. I resent the notion of a man unjustly accused of being cheap.”

“What birthday present?” you furrow your eyebrows.

“The kiss you demanded Y/N!”

“I’m good,” you disregard his offer and he hovers over you, captivated.

“I thought you have the hots for me, I even wore these hoochie pants to please you. I mean, I endured your affection and harassment for the past three years. I’m here now with an invisible olive branch so I think you should reconsider your answer.”

“Did you just say hoochie pants?!” you snicker at his distorted apology although you’re mad at him. “You didn’t wear them for me; you wanted to show off your assets!”

“It’s not my fault I’m handsome!” The Joker defends his wardrobe choice.

“I seriously want to be alone,” you indirectly imply he should disappear. “I’m tired of playing games. I won’t flirt with you anymore, I promise. Deal?” you lift your pinky up and there’s something strange concealed behind your abrupt vow.

“Why not?”

“First of all, I won’t have the energy: my father warned of serious consequences during the treatment. Second, it might kill me: we don’t know how my physique will endure; I have terminal cancer, remember?”

“Are you scared?” J whispers and you nod a yes, upset. “Then you should accept your gift in case you won’t have another occasion,” his rationale pushes you to reconsider your alternatives.

You pull him closer and wait, explaining your hesitation.

“It’s my birthday, you should be the one kissing me.”

The Joker doesn’t defy your logic and complies, unable to suppress an arrogant grin when you moan:

“God, your lips are so soft; I could kiss them all day.”

“Don’t get into it, I have to vacate the premises soon. I don’t want Crane to catch me in your tent and presume the worst.”

“My dad will be in the lab until morning time; you can stay if you want to,” you trace his jaw line, momentarily forgetting your grudge.

“Didn’t you preach about wishing to be alone?”

“Why are you making out with another woman besides your girlfriend?” you evaluate the waters with a question.

It doesn’t seem he’ll bother to justify his behavior thus you utter:

“I can be alone…with you. I’m 23, literally a consenting adult,” the important information is added for the heck of it.

“Consenting to what?” The Joker mumbles as you softly bite his lower lip.

“I hate you,” you pout and snuggle to him while he grabs a pillow, irritated at his involuntary reaction. J stuffs it in between the bodies and you swiftly toss it away.

“Are you trying to get me in trouble Y/N?”

“You’re always in trouble,” you begin unbuttoning his shirt. “Let’s go with the flow, shall we? No strings attached, no commitments. You know why?” you pause and continue. “I might not survive the Cromyxillium and I want to make love to the old guy I have a major crush on.”

“Old?!” The Clown prince of Crime scoffs.

“You’re basically twice my age,” you roughly estimate without proof and kiss him again. The Joker slides his hands under your t-shirt, opting to dismiss your affirmation with a different kind of truth.

“Do you recall when you asked me if I ever tasted death?”

“Yes…”, you bury your face in his neck, wondering if he’ll say something mean that will ruin the night.

“You don’t taste like death,” J forces you to look at him. “You really don’t.”

“… … … … … … … You think so?” the emotional Y/N sniffles, categorically surprised at the confession.

“Yeah. You actually taste like dynamite,” he winks and doesn’t mind the sudden meltdown: The Joker is not big at comforting people, but the girl in his arms feels relieved nevertheless.

She might not compare to the fire he’s used to, yet Y/N’s eagerness to blow up everything, wipe the slot clean and start fresh is unfamiliar territory that’s worth exploring.

Also read: MASTERLIST

#the joker x reader #the joker fanfiction #the joker imagine #the joker jared leto #the joker suicide squad #the joker #joker #joker fanfiction #joker imagines #joker leto #joker suicide squad #Mistah J #mister j #dcu #dc

59 notes · View notes

g00d1uckch4rm · 4 years

Text

Chasing The Sun

Chapter 1: Story Time

Summary/Info Rated M

____________________________________________________

The Importance of Understanding Type Dynamics Version two: for coming-of-age young adults, patients and caregivers. By Doctor C. T. Tony

Section One

Introduction to Type Dynamics

These Types only influence the Human* reproductive system, also known as secondary-sex and holds no restriction over one's gender. There are four different Types Dynamics and; in most cases, are undetermined until one reaches sexual maturity. However, much like blood types, the parents Type Dynamic can influence what their children will have.

Listed here is a summary of information to do with sex and most common; but not limited to, behavioural patterns or traits. Further details well be addressed in Section Three and Four.

[*Other races such as Giants, Fishfolk, Minks, Sky People, Dwarves; including hybrids of previous races do not have Type Dynamics. While tribes/subraces of Humans have Types, it is even more rare for one to be Type A or O]

~~~~~~ ҉ ~~~~~~

It's a moment much like that of Fishman Island; the battle had been hard, the people almost lost hope, but they prevailed in the end. Sure, things hadn't gone according to plan, but everyone fought hard and like always, the Straw-Hat's pulled off miracle somehow. It felt like it was the same-old-same-old, and yet, oh so refreshing and new.

So here everyone was; wounded, sore, and still having the energy to throw the biggest party Wano has probably ever seen. Music and merriment flooded the air. Bonfires and free spirits lit up the night. Food and drink seemed to be endless. Which was probably a good thing, considering who the heroes were.

Jinbei chuckled as he sipped his drink, Luffy may still deny it and give whatever reasons against it, but the facts remain. The truth remains. That people saved by the Straw-Hat Pirates will always believe that they are heroes. That Luffy is their hero. Not to undermine the others in any way, Luffy just has this aura, this energy that pulls people in. And the rest of the crew, they seemed fine with Luffy in limelight. Perhaps some even a little proud.

"Amused by Luffy's impressions?" Robin smiled up at him. For the most part they had sat in peaceful silence, or rather whatever they could get with all the celebrating going on.

At first his response was simply a hum, but it only took a second to survey the crowd for Luffy. It appeared that the captain was making a show of his powers and making a fool of himself. Arms and chest inflated comically, with the ends of his kimono tucked into his sash, all the while jumping from pose to pose. While a number of onlookers were getting a good laugh and others simply smiled in amusement, Usopp and Chopper at front row appeared to be dying.

Jinbei was just confused as to whom Luffy was trying to impersonate. Till Luffy brought his fists together above his head and stood with a slant to one side. "Franky?"

"Mm-hm. Though, it took you awhile." She teased. "Did it really take his signature pose for you to figure it out?"

"I haven't exactly gotten familiar with everyone. The most I've interacted with any of the crew was back on Fishman Island and even those moments were brief." Totto Land had just been one mission to another, with even less personal interaction. It's not easy to get to know someone when you're constantly running for your life or fighting for it.

"Aside from our captain, that is?"

Our captain. My captain. It was still new, but it left him feeling light, reassured. Jinbei smiled a little. "Yes. Aside from our captain."

"Well, it won't take you long get to know the crew. A few in particular may become your shadow. For the first month or so at least."

"Oh, and why would that be?"

"Because you're new and someone important."

Important? "I don't follow."

But Robin didn't clarify and Jinbei didn't press the subject. It seemed like she wasn't going to completely open with him, not yet anyway. Which was fair, they didn't know him that well either.

"You know, with more practice, Luffy could become very skilled with disguises." Jinbei mused as he watched the young man shape himself like an hourglass and spun around with a stick in hand. Nami..? The ginger woman then came bolting straight for Luffy with beat-red cheeks and then proceeded to chase him around. Nami.

"It would be handy with infiltration. To be any shape, any size." Robin agreed and then they shared a moment of soft laughter. "But his acting would never hold up."

"Indeed. There are better odds in a plan actually being followed."

She giggled a little more before they returned to comfortable silence between them. Enjoying their drinks while they watched Luffy and the others. It wasn't long before one of the samurai joined in on the antics, offering paint and the boys were quick to take up the idea. Messy work and Luffy's roaring laughter drew in Franky's interest. Before long; Usopp having taken charge of the painting, the four goofballs are dramatically dancing around with serious looking faces of red and white.

~~~~~~ ҉ ~~~~~~

"Oi, helms' bro!" Franky greeted, now taking a cola break and held out his free hand to Jinbei as he approached. His face paint was a bit smeared after horsing around for a few hours. "Lookn' forward to workn' with ya!"

"Likewise." While they were close in size, the cyborg's main hands were still massive, leaving the handshake a bit awkward. But Franky appreciated the effort and firmness, the fishman's strength had his struts giving some resistance. It even gave Franky the momentary thought of challenging him to an arm-wrestling match sometime.

Releasing the hold and taking a seat next to Jinbei, Franky took a huge drink before continuing. "Heard from the nav' what you and Sunny were able to pull off back in Big Mom's territory. Pretty super stuff!"

"You share in some of that praise. Your craftsmanship is like nothing I've ever seen."

"Thanks! Oh, hey, by the way. I got a question for ya, but just don't take it the wrong way. Kay?"

"What might that be?"

"Do ya want me to adjust one of the hatches to the tank for ya?" They were definitely not big enough for the man to comfortably access as they were now.

"Tank?" Jinbei blinked, it had certainly not been along the lines of what he was expecting and was left puzzled.

"Ya, the aquarium around the bar? I'm sorta' in charge of accommodations an' stuff. But bein' a fishman, I don't know if you would feel more comfortable sleepin' the water or not."

"I was not aware that there was one on the ship. But it won't be necessary, just proceed as you normally would."

"Cool, sure thing-wait... Have you not seen the whole ship?"

"Afraid not, my brief times aboard has been spent getting everyone to safety."

Franky then clapped Jinbei on the back. "Well, can't have that, now can we! I'll show you all the gloriousness that is the Thousand Sunny!"

"I look forward to it. The more I know the ship, the better I'll be able to handle it."

"I would sure hope so, Sunny's full potential can't be reached by just anyone! I may have brought the lion to life, but I sure as hell can't tame that beast!" Franky howled with laughter.

"Hey, guys. Mind if I join?" Usopp asked as he came up to the group with a platter of food.

"Of course." Jinbei gestured for him to take a seat. Robin; having been simply enjoying the company, couldn't help but laugh a little. When the fishman looked her way, he was met with a knowing smile.

Usopp quirked a brow at her. "What's so funny, Robin?"

"What is the paint for?" She deflected.

"One of the samurai bros suggested it. Kubuki, I think is what he called it?" Franky offered before reaching to take some of Usopp's food. But he was not as swift as Luffy and Usopp moved his plate out of reach. "Come on, don't be stingy bro."

"Then ask, don't try to steal it. I was going to share, but now I don't think you deserve the courtesy."

Franky was quick to provide an exchange. "I'll share my cola with ya?"

"Sure." He grumbled and now offered the food to his crewmates. "Robin, Jinbei? Would you like some as well?" Each gave their thanks and took something from the plate to snack on. Not a moment after, Usopp was grinning. "So, Jinbei."

"Yes?"

"With you now officially a part of the crew, it makes sense that I; the Great Warrior Usopp, bring you up to speed of my grand adventures and heroic deeds." He said with great pride and fists posed on his hips. While Franky made the comment that; this was the real reason he brought food to share, Usopp either ignored him or didn't hear. Jinbei gave a mild expression of interest, but mostly wasn't sure what to expect.

Usopp began with a tale about befriending a pair of rival giants and helping to save their honour. Which was fascinating and Jinbei found the young man quite talented in storytelling. However, he ended up unintentionally raining on the sniper's parade when he began the next part. "-on a winter island, were a cruel King forces his people to support him by restricting access to doctors-"

Jinbei cuts him off when he recognizes the tale. "Oh, Drum Island. Not a huge fight, but it was Luffy's first notable appearance since Logue Town and the first kingdom he saved."

"Oh, so you know where we met Chopper." Undeterred, Usopp began anew. "Well, this next one is one of the Straw Hat's greatest moments! And one of our greatest secrets." Motivated to impress the helmsman with one of their adventures kept more under wraps. He sets the stage, does his buildups and is about to deliver the shocker. "-turns out she is none other than the Princess of Ala-"

When Jinbei speaks up and becomes a bit enthusiastic. "Alabasta. That was when Luffy fought his first Warlord, Crocodile. Quite the tough fight too, he had to figure out a way to defeat the Logia user before even knowing what Haki was."

"In much fewer and underwhelming words, but ya. Robin also joined the crew afterwards. I'm surprised you even know of this, the navy even covered it up and took credit for all our hard work."

Franky decided to chime in a little and tease Usopp. "You also messed up a little on the order there, Sanji said that you all knew who she was before Little Garden."

"Shh, you!" He scowled for a moment before going back into story mode. "So, the next adventure and this one you may have a hard time believing! It takes place on the mysterious White Sea-"

"Ah, the one about Skypiea. I would have certainly had trouble believing it, if not seeing some sky people myself."

At this point, Usopp deflated and lost most of his zeal. "... I probably should have started with asking what you've heard."

Jinbei felt bad for ruining Usopp's storytelling and apologised. "It was not my intention, but that was all rather rude of me wasn't it? I'm sorry. Though, I believe that I have heard most of Luffy's feats up to the point where we met."

"Where did you end up hearing all of this?" Robin asked, both amused and curious.

"On Fishman Island mainly, over the two years that the crew was separated, I-" Then Jinbei paused, coming to a realization and bringing a hand over his mouth. Oh... Oh, that's what they meant. Gods, he could hear them all laughing at him again and Aladdin was the worst of the lot. Why couldn't they have called him out on it sooner?

"You?" Usopp echoed.

Jinbei just hoped that his embarrassment didn't show on his face. Which it did, in an ever so slight flush. If anyone noticed, they didn't comment. Dropping his hand; to not bring further attention to his face, he continued. "I had many opportunities to speak to all sorts of travellers and some stories I even overheard."

"That would explain the focus on Luffy in the stories and why you didn't mention the points of new crew-members. You're hearing about it through the people that witnessed bits and pieces." Usopp was bitter that his spotlight had been taken from him. But he supposed that he still could fill in all the blanks. Along with the events of Punk Hazard, Dressrosa, and Zou. "I'll have to tell you the full stories."

"I'd like that." Jinbei then added. "It would good to get the whole truth of the events."

"Pft! Ya right!" Franky burst into a huge fit of laughter, to the point that he was on the verge of tears. "You'd best ask Robin, if that's the case!"

"Hey!" Usopp clearly offended does a karate-cop like gesture towards the cyborg. He likely had more to say on the matter, but his attention, along with everyone else was drawn to a rather loud, passing argument.

It was between the bear mink, Bepo and Law. "Captain, we understand-"

"Don't you dare-!" Law hissed in anger and pain; aside from Luffy, his injuries were some of the worse. It hurt to stand, let alone go for a walk. "None of you do- none of you can!"

"But Captain, you need to at least try to rest! You shouldn't-"

"Shut-up! It's my bloody body!" Law snapped, his harsh glare anchoring his first-mate on the spot. "Leave me alone." Then proceeded to the outskirts, with Kikoku held in his white-knuckle grip and a slight limp in his step.

Having witnessed that, Usopp felt bad for the mink. Whispering as he glanced from Bepo to Franky. "Yesh, that was harsh. Even for him. Do ya think maybe...?"

Franky knew what he left unsaid and while he didn't like it, he didn't think it was the place to interfere. "Ya." Tapping his nose as he replied, a cue to let Usopp know he was on point. "He's definitely off, but asking about it now might just make things worse."

"I get that, but what if Luffy," Usopp does a few uncertain gestures before holding his hands out towards Law's general direction. "...ya know?"

Though, Jinbei didn't want to wait on a group decision and as their conversation carried on, Jinbei took it upon himself to go talk to Luffy. He didn't want to be the one to jump to conclusions, but being aware that Law had gone through a great ordeal in the past couple months. It didn't help matters. However, he knew that there was nothing he could personally do for Law. Nothing that would likely be meaningful anyways.

It didn't take long to find Luffy. Giving the young man a wave, Jinbei made his way towards him.

Their captain waved in return and met the man halfway. A light bounce in his step despite his own terrible injuries. "Hey, Jinbei! You having a good time?"

Jinbei gave a small nod as his answer, but glanced over his shoulder, at the direction the other captain had gone. "Luffy, you're close with Law, are you not?"

"Ya, we are! He's a really good friend." But then his grin became more of a smile. Still cheerful, but figuring something was up. "Why? Something happen with Torao?"

"I just saw him and he said some rather worrisome things to Bepo."

"A fight?"

"No, no... Not exactly. I only overheard bits and pieces. His crew is worried about him; while Law is obviously gravely injured from the fight, he appears to be refusing to rest. As a doctor, Law knows very well what he should be doing... Yet he doesn't seem to be in the right mind. He doesn't seem to be himself." Jinbei's voice was quiet. This situation was stirring too many unpleasant memories and it wouldn't be right to speak so freely of someone else's internal conflict where so many people could overhear. He didn't want to cause more trouble for Law, especially if Jinbei had the wrong idea. I hope I'm wrong.

Luffy was silent, waiting to hear the rest. An odd moment of him being completely focused. Well, perhaps not entirely odd, the wellbeing of his friends and crew were of the utmost importance to the young captain.

"I can't deny that I am worried for his safety and of those around him. But I think it would be best if you make sure he is alright."

"Hmm." Luffy tilted his head as he mulled it over, for a second. "I can do that. Where's Torao at?"

"He was headed that direction, but I'm not certain where he's at as of this moment."

"Kay, just need to do one last–" He then looked around quickly, till he spotted his doctor. "Chopper! You got a sec?" He took off and left Jinbei to return to the festivities.

~~~~~~ ҉ ~~~~~~

It was the first hour after dawn, most were still asleep and honestly, Jinbei would be too if not for old habits. Still groggy, having only got a couple hours of sleep, he decided he would go down to the water for a soak. Geta in hand, he did his best to remain as quiet as possible for the others still passed out in the room. On his way out of the building, he couldn't help but look into the other room as he passed. The door was left open so it wasn't his fault and he hadn't expected anyone to be in it.

He froze as his eyes met with Luffy's and then they smiled. The young captain was clearly awake, however the same couldn't be said for the other captain curled up behind him. Law was still peacefully sleeping, yet keeping a hold on Luffy. They were sharing a blanket and looking dishevelled as some of their bandages had come lose. Jinbei opened his mouth to apologize, to say something, but Luffy quickly brought a finger to his lips. Shh!

While Jinbei snapped his jaw shut, Luffy's sudden movements had irritated Law. He wasn't sure if it was a grumble or a growl that came from the man, but it was in a threatening manner. Pulling Luffy into a tight embrace and placing his nose to Luffy's exposed shoulder. Though Luffy appeared to be slightly unhappy about something, Law did not wake, returning to a relaxed state and Luffy did nothing.

Jinbei hadn't realized that he had been staring till the soft sliding of the front door startled him out of it. Looking to the entrance, he saw Sanji quietly slipping off his footwear with a plate of food in hand. When the blond looked up, he paused and gave the fishman a questioning look. As if he wasn't expecting him to be awake yet. Jinbei on the other hand, glanced back toward their captain and the... state he was in.

Carefully he reached for the door, for reasons he wasn't sure of, but stopped before he could lay a hand on it. Sanji gave him the same hushing gesture and slowly made his way towards the room. As the cook peeked into the room; as much as Jinbei felt the need to keep him from doing so, Luffy lit up at the sight of him. Even giving him a little wave, which was briefly returned.

A hidden tension faded away, but the whole situation was becoming too much and full of unexpected chain reactions. With someone else on the scene and to deal with the matter, Jinbei was swift in making his escape.

Jinbei had expected a fight, even if it had been a small one. But this... he hadn't expected that. Whatever that was meant to be. His mind was spinning around in confused, hazy laps of the few brief seconds of what he witnessed.

Next Chapter -->>

#JinLu #One Piece Jinbei #One Piece Luffy #A/B/O verse #Chasing The Sun FF #Mpreg #Written Work #Fanfic #Rated M #Rated R

2 notes · View notes