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qtboni · 9 months

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Heyyy I love your writings so much I wanted to ask if maybe you could write a ghost x reader story with angst to fluff maybe where the reader gets tortured in front of him or gets kidnapped idk

╰﹒ 𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐃𝐀 !

PAIRING: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley X Reader

C/W: fem!reader, angst to comfort, violent themes, kidnapped/captivity, restraints, choking/strangling, asphyxiation, death (minor), explicit words, inaccurate spanish dialogues, bit of canon divergence. w/c 3.4k

Ghost could only hear the ringing in his ears as a firm hand connected harshly in his head. "C'mon, pinche pendejo," A woman crouched in her knees infront of him, a snarky smile etched in her face. She looked like a predator waiting for her prey to break, and she had no intention of making it easy for him. "We were protecting a friend in the mountains. Someone attacked us there... Who?"

Valeria. Ghost concluded in his thought.

"Go fuck yourself." He grunted as a reply and averted his gaze elsewhere. It was clear he wasn't interested in giving out any information. His insulting statement made the woman's smirk to drop as an irritated expression took place.

"If I were you," Valeria replied, her thick accent sipping through. She snickered as she taunts him by tilting her head to the side, faking a pity expression. "I'd be careful with my words."

"Why would I, ya lil' fucker." Ghost hissed, his brows furrowing as he glared at her with a menacing expression. He tried to move his tied wrists and legs, but the rope was too tight. His frustrations boiled at the feeling of helplessness, the tight bonds threatening to cut off his circulation.

"Because?" She replied with a deep chuckle, her eyes gleaming with a malicious glint. In one swift motion, she grabbed him by his vest and forced him to look up at her. "I have your pequeña princesa right here." Her words were punctuated by a self-assured smirk, her expression daring him to defy her command. His muscles were tense, his hands curled into fists as he struggled against his bonds, the tight rope digging into his wrists and legs as he tried to break free.

'Princesa?' He thought, his mind racing to make sense of her word. But then it clicked.

You.

Ghost took a deep breath, trying to keep his composure in the face of her teasing. ’She's playing with me,’ He thought as he tried to keep a cool head, but her words and expressions were certainly having an effect on him. There was no way Valeria had caught you. He was sure you left with the team!

"So?" Valeria's voice brought him back to where he was. The woman infront of him smiled widely in a sadistic and disturbing manner, her eyes glinting with evil intent. "Tell me. Ask my question,"

"You're a fuckin' lunatic if you think I'll give up intel," He fought against his rising emotions, thinking to himself. She was just messing with his head for sure. But his heart beat at a frantic rhythm, each pulse hammering against his chest as he tried to maintain his composure. "Don't even fuckin' know what you're on about,"

Disappointed, Valeria clicked her tongue. But it was not out of annoyance, no. There was something sinister beneath her snobbish grin, as if she was toying with Ghost and was enjoying it. A series of sinister chuckling enveloped the dark lit room. He could see from the corner of his eyes that a leather roll was unwrapped in the table situated at the side, revealing a collection of various knives, razor blades, tiny tools that were nonetheless can convey damage to one's body.

"No?" Valeria turned away from him for a moment, locking eyes with one of her minions on her right. "Then, I suppose I have no other choice but have you believe me that I stick to my words, hm?"

"Fuck you," He spits even if his heart tightened with dread, thinking for the absolute worst. She's lying. You can't possibly be here. He watches as the woman turned back to him with the same wicked grin, gaze still piercing him like a dagger. "Sit comfortably, yeah?" She continued, speaking as if her decision was already made. She smirked as her words sunk in at Ghost, the thought of harm coming to someone else sending a chill down his spine. "You'll need it."

"I don't f-"

"Wanna know why, cariño?" She cuts him off with a mock, leaning even closer to him. She didn't give him a chance to reply back as her hands wrapped around his covered jaw, her touch causing the skin under to burn with a mental flare. Then she whispered into his ear, her words a slow and teasing drawl. "I'll torture her up real good, and make you... Well," She paused to consider for a moment, before a slow grin spread across her face. "You'll just have to see for yourself." A dark amusement flickered in her eyes, the thrill of his helplessness evident in her tone.

With a rough pat on his cheek, Valeria stood up, her expression serious and professional. "Tráela En," She ordered the men to her side, who immediately obeyed. With a quick glance back to Ghost, the men piled out of the room with Valeria, their footsteps echoing in the hallway outside.

With the men having left the room, Ghost thought of how he could try to escape the restraints that held him down. He wiggled his arms in an effort to free himself from the ropes, but they held firm. His eyes darted around the room frantically, his brain desperately working to develop a plan for escape.

Ghost tried to wriggle his tied up wrists free, but the ropes stubbornly held tight. He took in a deep breath, attempting to clear his mind in order to develop a strategy that could help him escape. He strained as he worked at loosening the ropes, his muscles straining under the effort, and still the bonds refused to budge. With every attempt to free himself, he was met with increasing levels of exhaustion. Time was his enemy here, the clock ticking steadily away. He continued to strain at the ropes, but still they refused to budge. His skin was growing damp with sweat, his breath heavy and raspy. He had to escape, he had to.

Ghost was too focused on freeing himself, his gaze glued to his bound hands, his thoughts locked in a desperate cycle. His focus on escaping the ropes made it impossible for him to notice Valeria entered, his heart racing as her presence suddenly became apparent.

"I was looking forward to this," a raspy voice purred. He snapped turned his head forward, his eyes snapping towards Valeria's boastful stance and... fuck, it's you. The familiar scarf, covered in dirt and dust. Its little ghost drawing, once vibrant and colorful, was now dull and worn, the image haunting him. Even the sound of the heart keychain strapped to your belt was enough to draw him out of his daze, the item bringing back a flood of memories of you.

This can't be.

—

"Yer fuckin crazy," A rough voice was heard amidst the throbbing pain present in your head as you were haphazardly thrown.

You winced as your body collided with what felt like cold asphalt, and tears of anguish welled up in your eyes. Despite the familiar voice you recognized, your covered vision made it difficult to make out anything. The sedatives forced upon you while in captivity made you dizzy and disoriented. As the sack was removed from your head, the full impact of your surroundings flooded your senses. The voices around you were loud and numerous causing white noise in your ears, their words indecipherable to you as your mind struggled to grasp your current situation.

"Don't fuckin' hurt her!"

A sharp yank on your hair jarred you out of your trance, forcing you to look up from the ground. The sound of your lieutenant calling out your name registered in your mind, forcing you to come back to reality. As your eyes met those of Ghost's frantic eyes behind his mask, your heart raced, your anxiety flaring up once again as you quickly assessed what was happening.

Valeria's grip on your hair grew tighter, a cruel and sadistic grin spreading across her lips as your pained gasp filled her with pleasure. "You were expecting someone else, weren't you?" She said to Ghost, her tone dripping with sarcasm and malice. She leaned in closer, her cruel glare inches from your face as she whispered into your ear with a mocking tone, "Too bad. Que te voy a matar." She chuckled, her breath tickling your ear as you winced in pain.

"Just give it up, Valeria," He gritted his teeth in anger. But she laughed, her voice echoing in the room as she turned to Ghost. She held his gaze for a moment, studying his expression. Then, she turned back to you, a cruel grin spreading across her lips. "Oh, you poor thing," she chuckled, her tone dripping with condescension. She softly carressed your scalp as if creating a faux sense of security. "Is this affecting you," She said to Ghost as she ran a finger down your cheek, the sharp pain of her nail digging into your flesh drawing a quick wince from you. "Or do you have anything else in your mind besides this?"

"Fuckin' leave her out of this." Ghost clenched his jaw, desperately trying not to show any more signs of weakness. He tried to stay composed as Valeria leaned in closer to you, her teasing smile growing bigger with every passing moment. He swore the nerves in his arms were bulging out of tense.

You winced at her touch, but you didn't dare to speak as your jaw locked and your muscles tense as you tried to ignore it. Valeria laughed again, moving a step back so she could face him again. "Oh, but I do love the way she look when she's in pain," she said, her tone playful as she studied your tears streaming down your face. "You really should have told me what I wanted to know." She chuckled, moving closer to you again, her hand moving in a gentle caress along his cheek. "It's okay, little sweetheart," she whispered, her voice full of deceiving sweetness.

She has a cruel glint in her eyes as she studied your expression. Her hand gently moved towards your cheek, then her nails started digging into your skin and you gritted your teeth, trying to hold in the cry of pain that was forming in your throat. "Speak, bitch," She spat on you, eyes narrowed with annoyance. You didn't respond, determined to close your mouth. Whatever this was, you're on your lieutenant's side. "No?"

It was only as Valeria let go of her grip on you that you realized how numb your muscles felt. Your legs felt like they were made of lead as you tried to scurry away, but the effects of the torture had left your body limp. Unable to move, unable to escape, you watched helplessly as Valeria went over to the side and grabbed something, the glinting object catching your eye.

You met Ghost's gaze and saw him return it, the terror evident in your expression as he silently implored you to try harder to escape. As if you were the one who has their limbs tied up. "How amusing," Valeria came up between you both, playfully swaying the sharp material in her hands. "It seems like our little friend is too strong-willed for our torture to affect her."

You weren't given the chance to react at all when the knife had already slit your arm. Everything went silent as the stinging sensation was too much to bear. You screamed out as the cold metal pulled out, leaving your blood to gush out of your flesh.

"You fuckin' bitch!" You heard Ghost yell out as he struggled in the chair, attempting to break free from its constraints. Your ears were greeted with the sound of the chair's loud creaks and groans. The noise seemed to echo through the room as he yanked against the ropes, his movements growing more frantic as the sounds turned into small shouts of effort. "I'll fucking kill you!"

"Give me información, pendejo." was all Valeria stated.

As Ghost's struggles continued, your weak and fatigued body could barely muster the energy to keep your eyes open, let alone attempt to help him. He called out for your help with more desperation, his shouts growing louder and more frantic as the knife sliced at your bruised skin again and again.

"S-Stop!" Your body was paralyzed with fear, your mind paralyzed in shock, unable to process what it was witnessing. You wanted to run, to do anything to make it stop. But all you could do was watch, your tears falling down your cheeks. Your body had betrayed you. "Please..."

"Valeria!" Ghost shouted, no, he tried to call for her to stop when your body convulsed as another wave of sobbing washed over you. Two strong hands squeezed your throat, your breaths coming out in shallow gasps. You tried to comply, but the words coming out of your mouth were so slurred and incoherent, it was impossible to understand. You felt like you were on the verge of passing out, your mind and body exhausted from the pain and stress of Valeria's torture.

"Let go!" You choked out the words between the hands on your throat, your strength fading. You tried to pry her off but Valeria's grip only tightened, cutting off your air. As you struggled, she pressed her hand hard against your face.

"Shhh," she whispered, her voice a cruel taunt. Your vision was blurring as your eyes rolled back, a hand over your mouth stifling your desperate screams. Her voice felt far away, as if you were under water.

"Let... please... let go..." you managed to wheeze out desperately. As you fought against the darkness in your mind, your strength waning, you felt your awareness fading away. You felt as if you were floating, weightless and free all over despite the cold temperatures of the air around you. You felt peaceful, your senses fading and your consciousness slipping as you lost your grip on reality, slowly surrendering to the embrace of the void, your world fading away.

As you began to slip away, the world around you began to dissolve into a blur. It was all splotches of black, the darkness slowly consuming your senses. In your distorted vision, you saw something casting a shadow over you. It was hard to tell what it was, but you tried to focus your eyes on it, your irises dilating in recognition. The blurring slowly faded away, your senses sharpening as you glanced over Valeria's shoulder.

There, the person moved quickly, seizing Valeria's arms, yanking her away from you and tossing her aside. He turned to her with a fury in his eyes, ready to throw hands. The world came back to you with a sudden jolt, your lungs inhaling deeply as your eyes popped open. The colors of the room and the chill of the air on your skin became tangible as you registered the sharp pain of the ground beneath you.

With your eyes squinting, you see how she smirked at him, her gaze confident even as Ghost's body trembled with rage. He stepped forward, grabbing Valeria by the hair and twisting it, using his full strength to force her to the ground. He yanked her by the hair across the floor, his grip tight and unforgiving. His eyes filled with hate, his body trembling with anger, as he slammed her face-first into the floor.

"How dare you," he spat, his voice hoarse and raw. "How dare you lay your dirty hands on her!" Ghost's voice was thick with rage and loathing, his words pouring out in a torrent of fury. But Valeria smiled coolly, looking at him dead in the eyes as he continued to pull her across the floor. She didn't try to fight it, allowing herself to be dragged, but Ghost didn't let up. He didn't release his grip on her hair, even as her body bumped and dragged across the floor.

Ghost pulled Valeria forcefully against the wall, pinning her against it as he kept a firm grip on her hair. She tried to move, to squirm free from his grasp, but he didn't let her. She grabbed the knife that was tucked into her belt, the blade glinting in the light, and tried to stab him in the back. Ghost caught the movement in his peripheral vision, and he quickly grabbed her wrist, twisting her arm in a painful maneuver. The knife dropped from her hand as she let out a cry of pain, the blade falling to the floor with a soft thud.

Ghost looked down at Valeria, her expression twisted into a smirk as she glared up at him in defiance. In that moment, he felt his rage flare, his emotions taking over. Ghost brought his face right up to Valentina's, his expression filled with cold malice and hatred. "What?" He asked, his voice a harsh whisper. "Did you think I *wouldn't* finish you off?" He grabbed hold of her hair with both hands, his expression feral as he looked into her eyes.

Ghost twisted Valeria's arm sharply, and before she knew it, he had her in a chokehold. He tightened his grip, his face filled with rage as he looked into her eyes. She struggled desperately, trying to fight him off, but Ghost's strength was overwhelming. He held on tight, slowly squeezing tighter and tighter, his grip tightening with each breathe. She coughed and gasped for air, her eyes filling with a mixture of fear and regret. And then, a moment later, she was gone. The sound of her body hitting the floor broke the silence as Ghost released his grip, letting her fall to the ground. His heart pounded in his chest as he stood above Valeria's motionless body, his breath catching in his throat.

"Lt..." You managed to choke out as you cleared your throat, trying to get his attention to you. Your hands were shaking, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest. He slowly turned to look at you, eyes filling with sudden concern. As the pain and anger disappeared, he was overcome by fear and anxiety, the thought of losing you too much to bear.

He rushed towards you, his heart pounding in his chest. There was no hesitation, his arms enveloping your body in a tight embrace. His embrace was tight and firm, his body pressed up against yours with his warmth radiating from him and his breath filling your ears. The adrenaline pumping through his body still, and you trembled in his arms, clinging to him for reassurance.

"We need to leave fast, love," He murmured, absentmindedly calling you a petname, as he took notice of the bruises and bleeding cuts marring your body. Without another word, he lifted you into his arms, your body limp and weak, and carried you. "Not for long before those suckers come here,"

You hummed as a reply, too tired to form words as you rested your head on his firm chest. You felt him adjusting you a bit when his hand came in contact with the cuts you had on your arm and you hissed, body curling up to comfort yourself. "Sorry," he whispered, his voice gentle. He stayed close to you, letting you lean into him as your body trembled. The fear began to fade, and you felt his warmth surround you, his arms a source of strength and comfort.

As Ghost, with you in his arms, walked outside, you were both silent. The cold air and the rustling of your clothing movements were the only sounds you heard, the sounds of the outside world muted and hazy. Ghost's grip around you was firm and protective, and you felt his body against yours as the cold air brushed back your hair. There were no words spoken between you, the air filled with silence and Ghost's gentle breathing, his warm presence beside you.

Suddenly, Ghost's voice filled your ears and it sent your heart fluttering. "Swear on my word," He gently whispered in the volume of what he should only hear. The heat of his embrace still radiating around you, his arms still wrapped around you, protecting you from the world. "I'll never let you get hurt again."

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pablitogavii · 5 months

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I need a story asap😭🙏🙏🙏

Pablito poco celosito

In this story, all Barça players go to uni ;)

You went to school like always anxious to see your boyfriend and hear all his stories from the last travel for the game he had abroad. When you saw him standing in the courtyard, you ran jumping and snaking your legs around his waist as he spun you around.

"I missed you, nena!" he said after putting you down and you pulled him into a heated kiss.

"I missed you too, Pablito. See you at lunch?" you say and he nods internally hating that you don't have any classes together this semester.

"Let's go pequeña!" Fermin grabbed your arm pulling you away from Pablo since the two of you had the same first period. Pablo watched after you angrily while Ferran whispered "he stole your girl" into his ear.

That though couldn't leave Pablo's head the whole day even when he was talking to you during lunch. You could tell he was odd but didn't give it much thought.

"You have training after school?" you asked and he nodded wishing he could just spend all his time with you instead. Never before did he crave to be with a person until you.

"Esta bien, I'll see you tonight then?" you said about to get up but he pulled your arm rather harshly and made you end up in his lap with a bright red face.

"Aii que haces, tonto! We're in school" you remind him of the very strict rules but he couldn't care less seeing Fermin walking by towards his next class... he definitely saw the two of you there and Pablo loved it.

"Hm hide your phone and text me in the class?" he said and you giggled nodding your head and pecking his lips before jumping from his lap and walking to your next class.

When the school day finally came to an end, Pablo came to your last class only to find you sitting in an empty classroom with Fermin Lopez ...what the hell!? So what Pedri said about your weekend plans with him is probably true then ...

"I need to talk to you, veni!" Pablo rushed inside like a lunatic grabbing your arm and pulling you in front of the door.

"Que haces!? Estas compeltamente loco" you say pulling back but it was clear that something was seriously bothering Pablo.

"Tu me vuelves loco, nena! I heard about your plans over the weekend" he said angrily and you smirked knowing what this was all about. Pablito poco celosito ...

"And, que pasa? What's the problem" you say and he clenches his jaw angrily.

"He's my friend, nena! And you can't just go out with him like that, comprendiste" he said angrily

"And why not? Since when do you care what others say, Pablito" you try and tease but he was in no mood.

"That's my problem! Now go inside and cancel it with him, nena or I'll do it for you" he said and you took that seriously not wanting a scene.

"Esta bien" you said rolling your eyes while passing him and he watched after you leaving for his training in still very much sour mood.

During training, Pablo purposefully avoided Fermin which everyone noticed and of course never stopped teasing him about it.

"Pablito is losing it chavales!" Ferran teased and everyone laughed including Fermin.

"Hey, what's funny cabrón! It's sad when you try and flirt with someone's girl ... let alone your friend's. She's MINE!" Pablo attacked ready for a fight and everyone knew they should diffuse the situation.

"Alright, let's change the subject" Pedri tried but Fermin interrupted him.

"No! I'm sick of it. I wasn't flirting with anybody, she's my friend and we wanted to hang out but you're too jealous and possessive to understand that" Fermin said all that's on his heart before leaving to run a lap making Pablo stay and think about his words. He was right ...he should have trusted you ...not yell at you like today ...he owed you both an apology.

By the end of training, Pablo had his talk with Fermin and now he was driving back to your place hoping you would let him in. You were already half asleep when he knocked like a lunatic.

"Hola, nena. My practice ran longer ...um...can I come in?" he said a little embarrassed not really being the type to apologize often.

"So you can check if anyone else is in my bed?" you said salty and Pablo sighed knowing he deserved that while slowly walking inside.

"I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions, and act all possessive with you ... but what you don't understand nena is that I can't lose you" he held your face looking into your eyes like it was the very first time he saw them.

"I can't lose you too Pablito ... and when you're out there with all those girl fans, I still trust you. All I ask is that you do the same, bueno?" you say and he shuts you up with a kiss while nodding his head.

"Hmmm let me sleep with you, porfa ...I'm so tired nena" he said while you both walked plopping down onto the bed and he immediately rested his head on your shoulder.

You moved a little to get comfy as his head moved onto your chest making you blush. His eyes were closed but your cleavage was basically in his face so you fixed up your shirt.

"You comfortable Pablito?" you ask touching his hair as he nodded slowly already half asleep on your chest.

"Mhm...lo siento mi nena preciosa" he said sleepily and you smiled kissing the top of his head.

"You're cute ...Pablito poco celosito" you smirked and he rolled his eyes holding you tightly while slowly falling asleep on your chest with no care in the world.

#gavigif #gavi #fc barça #fc barca #fc barcelona #pablo gavi x you #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi icons #pablo gavi #gavi x yn #gavi x you #gavi x reader #pablo gavira #pablo martín páez gavira #pablogavixreadersmut #pablogavixreaderfluff

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madwomansapologist · 1 year

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Hi. Can you write a smut scene between the female reader and my favorite Disney character, Captain Hook from Disney’s Peter Pan 1953 original film that starts with love at first sight please? I have a serious fangirl crush on him.

hooked by you | captain hook

synopsis: It happened. It finally happened. Hook defeated Peter Pan. He saw the silhouette flying above the clouds, readied the modified harpoon that fired a net, and finally managed to catch him! Little did he knew it wasn't Peter Pan.

warnings: DarlingSister!reader. female!reader. porn with plot. love at first sight. mention of erotic literature. that man is possessive. guns. chats about murder.

note: Thanks for your request, darling! I watched it again to write this, and I've just realized it's been almost eight years since I last saw Peter Pan. It was fun. And you made me realize I don't have normal pure thoughts about Hook. Like if I needed another character to be obsessed with. Hope you like it!

After so much screaming and arguing, George and Mary finally left the house. You waved, wished them a good night, and locked the front door. What a mess. All that fuss because of a character from a bedtime story.

You went upstairs and opened the door to your sibilings' room, but the three of them were already asleep. You knew that Wendy didn't want to leave the children's room, you thought that if you talked to her that fear could be eased, but she was already sighing. Maybe tomorrow.

You entered your room and changed into your pearly nightgown. You saw your parents entering a cabriole from the wide window. When they disappeared, you ran into the backyard and released Nana from the leash.

Tomorrow you'll sort it out with your dad. George can be furious, your mom word it as passionate, but deep down he's the most caring father you could wish for. George is always barking, never biting.

And your night would have ended there if you hadn't looked up. You should have seen a starry night. A full moon. But you saw your brothers. Flying.

That's it. You went crazy. Mad. Lunatic.

"Peter, wait!" Michael cry out. "You forgot one sister!"

"Michael?" You shuddered. Insane. Completely insane. "Michael, is that you?"

"Wait a second!" Michael waved the teddy bear at you and disappeared into the sky. After a infinite second, he appeared with something glowing in his hand and flew towards you. "Think happy thoughts," he instructed you.

Then a glittering dust fell on you. You coughed and tried to clear yourself. Crazy. Completely crazy. When you looked down, you saw the ground. Which would be normal. If it wasn't too far away.

Michael took your hand. "I told you Peter Pan existed!"

"Oh. My God." You shouted. "Oh. My God." You were flying! Flying. No. No, you weren't. You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and emptied your mind. When you opened your eyes, you saw the Big Ben. From above. "Oh. My. God."

"Don't be scared." Michael gave you two pats on the back. The same you do when he wakes up from a nightmare. He gave you his teddy bear. You hold onto it like it would protect you from anything. "We are going to Neverland!"

Then Michael flew again. You got to see John and Wendy flying up ahead, along with who could only be Peter Pan. You tried to follow them, but flying was a lot harder than the three of them made it out to be.

It was just a really realistic dream. Just that. A good dream about flying with your siblings.

Hugging the teddy bear, you slowly followed them. You passed chimneys, climbed through clouds, stood over the hands of Big Ben: always a few minutes late in comparison to them. But in the end, even with a lot of fear, you did follow them towards the Second Star to the Right.

Seeing Neverland, you felt butterflies in your stomach. It wasn't madness, it wasn't a dream, it was true. When the four stopped on a cloud, you thought you finally caught up with them.

Then something hit you.

It got tangled up in your body, heavy enough to make you fall. A net pulling you into the sea. You tried to fly, you tried to let go, but the more you moved the more you got tangled up in it.

The net was heavy, pulling you down, but it wasn't a sudden fall. You just couldn't go up. Which didn't mean it was comfortable. Yards and yards of fabric tangled up on you, just weighing you down.

A whirlwind of voices showed you that people were approaching, but you couldn't see anything. You just felt the impact against what must have been the ground. It didn't hurt, but it felt weird to stop flying.

"Finally, Mr. Smee, I will take care of my worthy opponent." You heard a rough, deep voice. People laughed at what he said. "I've waited years for it."

"That's not countin' the holidays, either", Mr. Smee complete. "Aye, there is the knife, Captain."

You tried to let go but only heard a deep chuckle. "Don't be a coward, my old enemy, face your fate." You heard the ripping of ropes. The weight on you began to lift. "Hook defeated you."

The knot holding the hammock came undone, and only then did you realize how much you needed to breathe without pounds of rope over your face. You blinked, the sun blinded you, and the black silhouette in front of you took on color.

And he was beautiful. You've read stories about pirates. Beautiful and funny stories like the ones Wendy shares with her brothers. But also about strong men, who know their ships like the back of their hands, who survive the ravages of the sea and vanquish the mightiest heroes. And you've also read about pirates who knew how to please a woman, dishonest men who kneel in front of their beloved, experienced men doing things girls shouldn't even know exist.

Hook reminded you of the latter type. "Disappointed?", you whispered. After all, it was just a dream.

Hook was frozen in place. Ready to slit Peter's throat and deliver him an honorable death, what was caught in his net was something far different than his little imp.

His heart was pounding so loudly that he almost didn't hear the question asked by the lady in front of him. Disappointed? How could he? You were more beautiful than any mermaid, more graceful than any woman he had ever seen, more delicate than any pearl. Wars would be fought in your honor and that would be the least any man with sense could do.

But his sailors are not known for being sensible.

"Of course we are!" One of them thought he had the right to talk to you. As if it wasn't already a miracle that he could see someone like you. "Where's Peter?"

Then Hook moved. He took the revolver out of his jacket and, without even looking in the direction he was aiming, pulled the trigger. The sailor fell overboard.

"Forgive me", Hook extends his hand to you. "My men don't know how to treat a lady."

You hesitated but accepted the touch. Hook set you on your feet again, more gently than you thought a pirate could display. "Apparently you kidnapped me."

"Aye, this is just a misunderstanding. See, I thought you were Peter Pan. It's not every day you see someone different flying over my ship."

"So... can I leave?" Your feet left the ground. Looks like you were already getting used to this flying thing. "And nothing will happen to me?"

Hook ran his fingers through his hat, a polite smile spreading across his face. "I would never dream of hurting you." Hook gestured toward his office. "May I apologize for the misunderstanding?"

"Apologize?"

"Drinks and conversation." Hook ran his fingers over his face. Good thing Mr. Smee shaved. It would be a horror if the love of his life met him in something other than his best version. "A proper apology."

You wouldn't normally accept such a request. To be alone with an unknown and dangerous man. Drinking with a man! But that was just a dream.

In his room, you floated around looking at the different shelves and finds. A pirate ship! It has so many treasures. "If you had captured Peter, would you have killed him?"

Your question took him by surprise. "That doesn't strike me as a conversation of lady interest."

As you turned, you saw Hook swapping the silver hook for a gold one. You smirked. "I showed interest, didn't I?"

Bossy. Ah, Hook knew you were his soulmate for sure. "I would have. Does that bother you?"

"No." You floated toward him, and sat down on the chair across from the table. Hook poured two glasses of some drink. You took the glass and thanked him, but didn't drink. "After all, this it's nothing but a dream."

"Dream?” Hook chuckled, downing his drink and sitting back in his armchair. “What convinces you of that?”

"I was at home, ready for bed, and suddenly I was flying to Neverland." You shrugged. "Clearly a dream."

Hook understood what was happening. Peter seems to have been confused. You are not a lost child. He never was careful. "I can prove this is not a dream."

"How?"

Hook rose, slowly circling the table. In front of her, he leaned on the wood. "Aren't you going to drink?"

Only then did you remember the glass in your hands. You took a sip, a grimace came over your face. "Strong", you coughed.

"Here's the proof." Hook touched your chin, making you lift your head and look. Only he did it with the golden hook. "Ever felt something like that in a dream?"

You swallowed hard. "No."

"So that means you're alone with the most dangerous pirate on the seven seas, the person who wouldn't have thought twice about slicing someone's throat out, completely helpless." Hook leaned in until he could feel your breath against his face. "Does that bother you?"

"You don't seem interested in ripping my throat out."

He gave you time to walk away. To fly in the direction you wanted. To leave him without saying a single word. Hook gave you time, but you let him kiss you.

He tasted like the rum you ignored. The hook left your chin and slid down to your waist, pulling you toward him. You leaned into his chest, kissing him back. It was so wrong, so unlike anything you would ever do, but it also felt so good.

You pulled away for air, and felt his fingers caressing your cheek. When you opened your eyes, you saw that Hook was smiling. "Do you know how to be silent?" You nodded in agreement. "Excellent."

He lifted you from the chair, and in one swift movement sat you down on the table. Hook was strong. Too strong. He pressed his thumb to your lip, watching you with lust. "You were made for me."

Before you could say anything, Hook knelt. You've read about it in books, but you could never imagine it would be such a satisfying sight. A man so strong, so dangerous, brought to his knees by you.

Hook didn't even bother to remove your nightgown. He just stuck his head between the fabric, desperate to satisfy you. To make you feel the same way he felt about you. To make you scream for him and make everyone understand that you belonged with him.

And so you did. Feeling him delight in your curves, his tongue brushing against your lips, his fingers pressing into your clit. You tried to be silent as he asked, but after a while you stopped worrying about it.

"You..." You didn't even knew what you wanted to say. You just wanted to feel more. To feel completed. To feel more and more of him. "I think I had dreams like that before."

You felt him gasp against your sex. Hook rose, his damp face close to yours, and you felt your face burn. "Haven't I convinced you this isn't a dream yet?"

His fingers explored your lips again, applying just the right pressure. You moaned against his lips, Hook squeezed his eyes shut. "What else do I have to do to convince you?"

You smiled. "I think you know what you need to do."

He bit your lip. "As you wish."

His fingers entered you. Slowly, carefully, but no less willingly. He filled you, long fingers repeatedly penetrating your insides, and you were unable to do anything but hold on to his shoulders and allow him to do whatever he wanted to you.

The sound of your wet pussy was almost embarrassing. "You're mine", Hook whispered against your ear.

"As you wish."

He quickened his movements, fucking you with a devotion no one has ever shown you. So close, so glued to your body, Hook has guided you to orgasm. You shuddered against his fingers, your fingernails scratched his perfectly groomed jacket, your moans were uncontrollable.

"Do you still think I'm part of a dream?” Hook trailed kisses from your throat to your jaw. “Has anything this good ever happened in your dreams?'

You shook your head. It was as close to an answer you were able to give him. It was enough for him. Hook is patient. He can wait.

GENERAL TAGLIST: @suakemi @notanalienindisguiseblink

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

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meiru-sama · 1 year

Text

♡Yandere femboy x reader♡

This story contains: slight NSFW, stalking, obsession, kind of a jerk reader, forcing your child into something they dont wanna be or do:D.

You stared at your reflection in the mirror with a grin. You look so pretty! Your uniform looks so good on you !

It was the first day of your 3rd year high school and you are so excited to meet your former classmates and teachers, you can't wait for the new chaos and issues that will greet you this new school year!

"(Y/N), come down!" You heard your mom shouted downstairs. You quickly grabbed your bag then placed your phone on your pocket before going downstairs and you were surprised to see a female that seems to be your age and is wearing the same school uniform you are wearing right now.

You rose a brow while the brown haired female averted eye contact with you with a shy blush forming her cheeks. You looked at the women beside her and it was an older women that seems to be her mother.

"(Y/N). this is Miss Kouza and she is her daughter Fina. They moved here just a week ago and you and Fina will be going on the same school so please can you be her friend and help her socialize? She's a shy girl. "

You nodded your head before approaching the brown haired female, she was really pretty. Her long brown hair was tied into two pigtails and her honey eyes that you feel like you could stare forever.

"Hi, name's (Y/N). By the way i believe we should get going now causeee, we'll be late." You said before walking away to go outside the house while Fina followed. You waved Fina's mother and your mother good bye before glancing over at Fina. She was still avoiding eye contact and she was surprisingly pink. Was she that embarrassed?

You grabbed your phone from your pocket completely ignoring Fina's existence to text your friend but minutes had passed and you finally spoke. "You are really pretty." You said, while your eyes landed on her figure that was now finally staring back at you with wide eyes.

"uh--- thank you?" You scoffed. "That wasn't really a compliment. I just want you to stay away from a certain boy." You said, rolling your eyes.

Fina's eyes darkended. But you were unaware of it, ofcourse you always was. You don't even notice eyes watcing your every move since they move here, she always watches you----- no. He always watches you, he have grew interested. He wasn't really a female, her, women or a lady, she was just forced by her lunatic mother who always wanted a baby girl but to her luck, she was blessed by a boy.

Fina glanced at you who was staring down at your phone. He feels hot, gosh. Just staring at you makes him feel hot! He doesn't even know why he likes you so much but he just know that both of you are destined together, he can feel it that the both of you meant to be together. He is yours and you are his, only his .

When you both finally arrived the school, you let out an annoyed sigh when you saw multiple students crowding the hallway.

You unknowingly took Fina's hand before you both tried to squeeze in to the crowd to go to your shared classroom.

"R-- Room 203 right?" You asked while shoving the other students who are blocking your way. "Hm.. yeah--" Fina responded.

When you both finally entered the classroom, you quickly closed the door while panting slightly. You looked around the room then you found your old friend group all together again. You quickly approached them, finally letting go of Fina's hand making him disappointed.

While you were busy on your friend group, Fina was finding a non occupied seat but you suddenly called him making his heart skip a beat. Oh how he love it when you call his name.

His head snapped at your direction and then there he saw you giving him a happy grin. "You should join us !" You said before gesturing him to approach you.

And that's when it started. Your friendship with Fina you werent actually mean because of that first conversation with you but you were actually fun to hangout with just like he expected, you were cool, funny and it was really true you like a certain boy which makes him slightly triggered but atleast he knows you more than that boy do. You trust him more and you are comfortable with him more.

You and Fina were currently on your room, you decided to have a movie night with her and right now you are choosing a movie on your laptop while Fina sat on the edge of your bed watching your face with a genuine smile.

"Okay, okay i found a movie!!" You squeled in excitement. "What is it?" Fina asked. "Have you watched 20th girl century?? Like i was gonna choose a horror movie but we have all night so i want to rewatch 20th girl century right now, first!" You clasped your hands together while your eyes sparkled. Oh my.. he really love that look on your face, you look so happy.

"I havent't watched that but sure if you want." He responded. Your smile grew wider before you jumped off your bed, you grabbed something on your closet and it was your favorite comfortable shirt with a soft pajamas.

"What are you doing?" Fina asked as his face started to grew red while you just started to take off your clothes infront of him. "What? Im changing clothes?" You replied as you slide down your shorts revealing your underwear but you quickly wore your pajamas. "Gosh, dont worry we are both girls or expect you are a lesbian? If you are i could literally take you rn. Kidding" you laughed at your own joke but Fina just stared at you, slightly biting his lips. Gosh, he literally wants to fuck you right now.

"You didn't bring your pajamas with you?" You asked while jumping on your bed. Fina shook his head, his face was still red as a certain image of your underwear and your bra took over his mind.

(I THINK IM GONNA MAKE A PART 2)

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #male yandere #yandere stalking #male yandere x reader #x fem reader #fem reader

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fluentmoviequoter · 6 months

Text

A New Kind of Fear

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x fem!wife!reader

Summary: When 20 David completes a raid with narcotics, they stumble upon a stalker. The unknown suspect has been watching you, and now Deacon must find him while dealing with the fear you've grown used to.

Warnings: canon typical action/danger, reader has a stalker but doesn't know, angst, fluff

Word Count: 2.1k+ words

A/N: This premise is kind of similar to the one in Worried for You but hopefully this is okay! I really liked the stalker idea and approaching the story with a focus on Deacon and his emotions!

Requested Here!

Picture from Pinterest

Everyone told you that marrying a SWAT officer would not be easy. Deacon himself told you the same thing. But he has watched you take every bump, bruise, and bullet in stride. Of course, you worry about him, but you support him, which makes you perfect for him. He lives a dangerous life at work, so when he comes home to you, he gets a chance to relax, breathe, and be with someone who loves him no matter how many scars he has or gives. When things get tough in the field, Deacon imagines you safe at home, ready to pull him into your arms and hold him together.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Narcotics will be ready to come in after we clear the house,” Hondo explains. “The house has two entrances, one front and one back, so we’ll have two breach teams. Front entry has a security gate, so we’ll pull it off with Black Betty then make entry at the same time. Get the house empty so narc can do their thing. Any questions?”

“When do we leave?” Luca jokes.

The breach goes well, and there’s only one suspect in the house. Street disarms the suspect and gets him outside as the entry teams finish clearing the house.

“Left side clear,” Tan calls.

“Kitchen clear,” Luca adds.

Hondo prepares to open the last door, examining the room quickly before lowering his gun. “Deacon,” he says, far too intense for anyone’s liking.

Deacon can tell by his stiff posture and the tone of his voice that something is wrong. He’s expecting drug mules or a false wall, but those would have been far better.

With wide eyes, Deacon steps into the room with Hondo close behind him.

“Narcotics is coming in,” Luca says as he approaches the door. “Whoa.”

The room is covered in pictures. All different places, different times, different days, different angles, some close, some far, but each features the same subject. You, Deacon Kay’s wife. Thousands of pictures of you are taped to the walls of the small bedroom. What bothers Deacon the most is that he isn’t in a single picture, which means whoever held the camera knew to avoid him.

“Was he in here?” Deacon asks Street.

“No, our guy was in the living room,” Street answers nervously.

“I’m going to kill him,” Deacon seethes.

“Deacon,” Hondo begins.

“Don’t you dare tell me to calm down, Hondo,” he snaps. “That is my wife all over this lunatic’s wall. He’s been within feet of her, and I didn’t know!”

Deacon’s shoulders heave as he breathes, looking around the room with his hand on his gun.

“Deacon, we’ll find this guy. But narcotics needs to get in here,” Hondo says gently.

Deacon nods, pushing between Luca and Tan to return to Black Betty. His anger dissipates with each step. Now, he’s scared. Deacon Kay is a man who has grown unfamiliar with the sensation of fear. He desperately wants to go home, to stay glued to your side while someone else hunts this guy down and puts him in a hole where he’ll never see the light of day again. But the anger flares, and he wants to be the one to lead him to the darkness. As his emotions wage war within him, Deacon has to decide to tell you or to let you keep living until it’s over.

“He’s not okay,” Street points out.

“Imagine if it was your wife,” Luca replies. “He’s mad at himself is my guess.”

“Why?” Tan asks.

“Because he didn’t know,” Hondo answers as he walks by. “But we have to find this guy before Deacon decides to go after him alone."

✯✯✯✯✯

Deacon makes the hard decision not to tell you. He tries to convince himself it’s so that you don’t get scared, but he is dealing with enough fear for both of you. Sitting in the locker room for privacy, Deacon dials your number and waits to hear your voice. He has to force the idea of someone watching you out of his mind.

“Hey,” you answer. “I was starting to think you’d be at work all night.”

“Uh, yeah, about that. I actually do have to stay and probably won’t be home until tomorrow. I’m sorry.”

You hum before asking, “Is everything okay?”

He wants to tell you, but he’s terrified that if you know and it makes you act different, the stalker may find out that Deacon knows and go for you.

“Everything’s fine, just working with narcotics on a difficult case.” It’s not entirely a lie, at least.

“Alright, stay safe. I love you.”

Deacon closes his eyes and pictures your face, smile, hugs, and everything he can remember about you. “I love you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I’m holding you to that, Kay.”

The line beeps, and Deacon sees the room of pictures again. His anger swells, and he has to do something, or the emotions will eat him alive. He changes into gym clothes and walks to one of the punching bags. His knuckles are pink and beginning to crack after a few minutes of intense anger management. Something in him wants to cry, but he forces it down, preferring to stick with the emotion that makes revenge seem so appealing.

“Deac,” Hondo calls. “We need to talk.”

Deacon begins punching again. “Then talk,” he says between an uppercut and a cross.

“You need to go home.”

“Not happening. Not tonight.”

“She can help.”

Deacon freezes, his hands in the guarding position as he turns to face Hondo. His hands drop to his sides as he cocks his head to the right.

“What?”

“She can help,” Hondo repeats slowly.

“How? You think she knows she’s being stalked and didn’t tell me?”

“Not like that, Deac. You need help in something that she’s an expert in.”

“Which is?” Deacon presses, his patience already worn thin.

“Dealing with fear and worry. Being scared and desperate for answers that aren’t available to you right now. She’s a cop’s wife, Deac, she understands what you’re going through more than anyone else ever could.”

“It’s not the same, Hondo.”

“She sits at home, worried that you’re never coming home, so she calls the station. And you know what they tell her? Nothing; they say they don’t have information right now. Which is exactly the situation you’re in.”

“Someone has been watching my wife and I didn’t know, Hondo. I want to kill him, but I also want to see him rot in jail. He’s been within feet of my wife, and we don’t even know what he looks like. I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but it won’t work.”

“I get it, you’re scared, you’re-“

“Pissed?”

Hondo raises a hand to stop Deacon. “The emotions don’t help us if you take them out here, Deac. So, if you want to do something, find something for us to do. Don’t sit here in your own anger until something worse happens.”

Deacon looks down at his bruising knuckles and nods. “You’re right. I’ll see what I can find.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“The entire house is barricaded. Doors, windows, vents. This was meant to be in impenetrable fortress,” Deacon says. “But it’s not. There’s a weak spot. Right here, this red spot on the blueprint is a corner that hasn’t been reinforced. As far as we know, at least.”

“So, a single pull?” someone asks.

“Technically yes. But we’re going to try to distract him and do a triple pull. If we get lucky and one of the other pulls gets us in, we’ll make entry. But the plan is to send alpha team into this pull and get our guy.”

“Weapons?”

“None confirmed, no registered guns, but we don’t know, so operate under the assumption of yes.”

As the room clears and officers prepare to complete the breach operation and bring in a suspect, Hondo stops Deacon.

“Are you up for this?”

Deacon nods as he answers, “I won’t lie, I’m still angry and I’m a little scared about what we’ll find, but I need to be there Hondo.”

“That’s what I was hoping you’d say. If you want to rough him up a little, I won’t see anything.”

“If I could get away with it,” Deacon says, trailing off.

✯✯✯✯✯

Deacon is scared, angry, anxious, and confused, but also merciful and a good SWAT officer. When the window is pulled from the wall, bringing several stud posts down, Deacon leads the team into the house, clearing each room until they reach the living room. The man kneels in the middle of the room, his hands up in surrender.

“LAPD SWAT,” Deacon announces.

“I surrender.”

An officer reads him his rights as he’s handcuffed, staring directly ahead.

“Do you know who this woman is?” Hondo asks, showing him a picture.

The man glances at Deacon, which is all the answer he needs. Deacon hoists him to his feet, pushing him into the hallway and toward the front door. He pulls to the side slightly, steering the man into a corner.

“Oh, sorry ‘bout that, let’s watch those corners on the way through,” he says.

Deacon pushes the man into the back of a cruiser, glad he’s off the street but disappointed in the lack of immediate answers.

“Leverage,” the man whispers. “He wanted leverage. We were never gonna hurt her or nothing.”

“Leverage for what?” Deacon asks, bending into the open door. “And who is we, who are you working with?”

“Working for. He’ll kill me if I tell.”

“We can protect you if you tell us what you know and tell a jury what you know.”

The man whispers a name, and Deacon nods once before closing the door.

“We got one more,” he tells Hondo.

✯✯✯✯✯

“It’s political?” the DA clarifies.

“We all know that gentrification mumbo jumbo was a load of absolutely nothin’ meant to butter us up before the next election.”

“And what did the images have to do with this?”

“Oh, yeah, Mrs. Kay. Pretty lady. We needed her husband on our side or it would never work.”

“How long have you been stalking her?”

“’Bout nine months. Needed lots of leverage before a big voting year like this.”

“Why so many photos?”

“Like I said, lots of leverage.”

“Were you working with anyone else?”

“We’re a two-man show.”

“Last question for now. Did you ever intend to harm the woman in the photographs?”

“Not if everything went according to plan.”

Hondo lays a hand on Deacon’s shoulder as they watch through the two-way glass.

“I need to go home,” Deacon mutters.

“Good idea, man. Take a few days if you need to. But we got him so you can both rest easy tonight.”

“Should I tell her?”

“That, brother, is up to you.”

✯✯✯✯✯

You hear Deacon’s car and run to the front door, opening it with a big smile. Deacon pulls you against him, hugging you tightly as he closes the door.

“I’m sorry,” he says, pulling you impossibly closer as he sits with you in his arms.

“For what?”

“Worrying you all the time. Not realizing just how many emotions are involved with seeing someone you love in danger and not having answers,” Deacon lists off.

You pull back quickly, your wide eyes searching Deacon’s deep brown ones. “What happened? Is everyone okay?”

Deacon nods, his hands wandering around your waist and back. “Someone- uh, we raided a house with narcotics yesterday and found a room full of pictures.”

“A stalker?”

“Yeah, but the pictures were of you,” Deacon adds quietly.

“Oh,” you reply, pressing your hands gently against Deacon’s shoulders. “And what happened?”

“I got so mad and scared and anxious that I couldn’t think straight. I wanted to kill the guy but I also wanted to come home and never leave your side. It was confusing and there were no answers. Hondo talked to me last night and pointed out that’s exactly what you deal with all the time.”

You nod, encouraging Deacon to continue.

“We found the guy who took the pictures and the guy he was working for. It was a political scheme to get me to back their position.”

“And they were going to hurt me if you didn’t,” you deduce.

Deacon nods, pulling you closer again.

“Deac, I know how scary it can be to not know, and how easy it is to get angry when someone hurts or threatens to hurt the people closest to you. I’m not mad at you for not coming home, but I need you to talk to me about this stuff. I love you, Deac, and I’m here for you, stalker or not.”

“Too soon,” Deacon says, chuckling despite himself.

You push your fingers through his hair and lean your forehead against his. “Did you rough him up?”

“Pushed him into a corner.”

You smile knowingly and kiss him quickly. “Thank you, Deacon.”

“I love you,” he says, gripping your waist as he tips you back to kiss you.

“I love you,” you reply, meeting him halfway.

#david deacon kay x reader #david kay x reader #deacon kay x reader #deacon kay fluff #david deacon kay #deacon kay #swat cbs #requests

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her-favorite · 6 months

Text

AN OATH; J. VALESKA (T-F)

JEROME VALESKA X F!READER (TWO-FACED III)

WARNINGS: typical jerome things - since this is going to be a series, i’m not going to put lengthy ‘warnings’ on all of them (since if you’ve watched the show, then you can the read a book with j’s violence) and remember, if something isn’t necessarily ‘accurate’, it’s just my characterization of him and we technically don’t know what he’d be like in a relationship so

WC: 10,143

A/N: i know you guys have been WAITING for this one 🙏🏻 i’m really hoping i didnt let any of you guys down with how this turned out 😭 also if anyone reads some of these the wrong way, this is not Barbara slander!! she’s my wife and i love her - posting this series on wattpad (jeromes-scars) if anyone wants to check it out on there!!

SERIES MASTERLIST | PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 |

SUMMARY: Never expect anything rational with Jerome Valeska. He was a lunatic, a psycho. And yet, something about him captivates you. As you consider your options, you’re left in a crossroads. Time will only tell what your answer will be…

Click. Click. Click.

Consistent tapping of card stock against another rang in your ears. The sun blared into the open room violently, harming your eyes. The tapping on the other side of the room hadn’t stopped for what feels like hours, but you were sure it must’ve been at least twenty minutes. Irritated noises sounded from the same corner but you’ve been acting as if you were asleep the entire time, you can’t give up now. Though, you weren’t sure how much time you’d have left before he would wake you up.

The bed underneath you was soft, probably memory foam. You’ve yet to move from your spot ever since you had been told to lay in it last night. You’d be lying if you said that you had gotten any sort of sleep last night. Your thoughts kept you up and the fact you had been sleeping in the same bed, on the same mattress as a murderer wasn’t a very comforting thought to fall asleep to.

Jim was looking for you, you felt it in your heart. He always looked to you as someone to take care of, to protect when you were too vulnerable. He was always there when things would get to be too difficult and Jim would sit there and talk with you any time that you asked. You knew of Jim’s predicament between Barbara and Lee and, though he was never one to talk about his feelings, you somehow managed to make him feel comfortable enough to speak to you about the situation. Jim Gordon was like a father to you, and you his daughter.

That thought alone made you have to suppress tears that had formed behind your eyelids as you could practically hear Jim’s demanding voice yelling at cops at the GCPD to find you and to search the whole city for your whereabouts. You managed to have little hope last night as you stayed up trying to think of a way to escape the maniac that was currently holding you captive, and even with the training from the greatest cop in the city, Jerome was too far ahead. He somehow knew every thought you were going to think and it worried you how much he truly knew about you, if he had done any background searches and had somehow found childhood stories or worse, if he had been stalking you while he waited to make his first appearance.

You mentally sighed as you knew that you weren’t going to be able to pretend to be asleep for much longer without him realizing you’ve been awake the entire time. Blinking your eyes open, still trying to get used to the bright rays shining inside, your body shifts lightly on the bed.

Instantly, the clicking stops.

Your heart sped up just slightly as the room was engulfed in silence so suddenly. You tried to stop the argument that you were having with yourself as you sat up, purposely ignoring the creaks coming from in front of you and looking over at the window as clouds roll in over the sun.

“Sleeping beauty’s awake!” A cheerful voice exclaimed, fully breaking you out of your daze. Though, you should’ve expected it, a small flinch was your reaction. “I’ve been waiting forever for you to wake up.” The man rounds the corner and stands in your line of vision, making you look up at him. “That’s if, you’ve actually been asleep.” The smirk on his face lightens his features as it seems to split across his lips.

“C’mon, doll, we got a busy day ahead of us!” Without any sort of warning, a pale hand reaches out and grabs yours, pulling you up from the bed and into his arms. Your breath hitched in your throat at the impulsive action, your wrists starting to ache at his firm grip on them. “Hi, gorgeous. Fancy seeing you here.” A loud, boisterous laugh sounded from the man, making your ears hurt. If you had your hands free you would’ve put them over your ears to drown out the heinous sound.

Jerome lets go of one of your wrists but keeps a tight hold on your other. “First, we’re gonna go downstairs, have some food, maybe. Then,” he walks back over to a desk that sat in the corner of the room. “Oh, I need these!” His free hand reaches forward and grabs a stack of cards, flicking some through his finger until one flew out onto the desk. “There you are..” His voice was low as a wide smile grew on his face. He stuffs the deck in his pocket as his fingers reach back over to grab the lone card. The one you wished you hadn’t seen.

The Joker Card.

You wished you protested more. Maybe, just maybe he would’ve listened. The air was tense in the vast room as Jerome sat beside you, stuffing his face with the breakfast buffet that was presenting itself on the table. You sat still as you tried to ignore the uncomfortable silence and the teasing stare from Barbara Kean that sat across from you. Another woman sat beside her, but you hadn’t been introduced to her yet, and she wasn’t in the line up of the criminals that had ‘broken out’.

“So,” The blonde broke the silence as she rested her chin on her hand, moving forward and leaning her elbow on the table. “What’s this?” She looks between the both of you. Without having to glance over at him, you knew Jerome was still putting handfuls of food in his mouth, the gross sound of him chewing echoed in your ear.

“Wait a second,” Barbara paused as a smirk began to form on her lips. “I know you..” She searches you over and then gasps, putting a hand over her mouth dramatically, “You worked with Jim.” A giggle escaped her mouth as she spoke, “Funny seeing you here, huh?” She leans forward again, resting both of her arms on the table and watching you intently. You knew better than to give her a reaction as you sat still, listening to what she had to say.

“Well? You gonna answer me?” She breaks the heated eye contact first, switching between the both of you. The woman beside her doesn’t seem all that interested in the conversation as she only looks up once or twice before fiddling with the whip in her hands.

“None of your business, blondie.” Jerome finally looked up from his plate of food, almost all of it gone, with a sinister glare on his face. “Want some, gorgeous?” His demeanor changes with a snap of his fingers as he looks over at you, plunging his fork into a pancake, offering it over toward you. Before he could pull it over the table, sticky syrup still hanging off of the snack, you shake your head in response. He shrugs, “More for me.” Those same disgusting sounds resurface.

“C’mon, ginger. Once Theo finds out you brought a cop into this mess,” Barbara leans back in her chair and looks over at the woman next to her, giving her a certain expression.

“He’ll let me deal with you.” The woman finished the blonde’s sentence as the dark haired girl stares forward at the ginger. The whip cracked in her hand making Barbara smile as she glanced over at it.

Nothing in this world could ever make you flinch as bad as that laugh. It’s loud and irritating and painful to listen to as it screams in your ear, reverberating against the walls. It stung as it seemed to replay in your head, quickly forming a headache. With a flat palm against the glass surface of the table, Jerome leans back in his chair and cackles until it sounds like it hurts. He probably likes the pain.

“Oh, wow! Didn’t know,” Another cackle cut himself off, ending in a harsh wheeze. “Didn’t know you had that in ya, Tabby!” He playfully wipes a tear from his eye and rests his other hand on his stomach as if he’s trying to soothe the ache from laughing so hard. “Wasn’t that funny, sugar?” Another sharp laugh sounded from him as he animatedly tries to calm himself down.

You’ve realized, even over the coarse of just a little over an hour, that Jerome hasn’t once called you by your name. Had it been a subconscious thing of his? Does he do it to get on your nerves?

An irritated eye roll was the response from the woman across the table. Her chair screeched as she pushed it away from the table and stood up, her whip ready in her hand. Before she walked away, she turned towards Barbara and asked, “I’m gonna blow off some steam. You comin’?” She must’ve had a certain look in her eye with the way the blonde had agreed. The taller woman took her hand forcefully and pulled her out of the room, not without a small giggle from Kean, as her whip dragged across the floor.

Once the clicking of her heels faded out of the doorway and down the hall, Jerome looked over at you with a wicked smile. Not once have you figured out what his plan was. You were hoping that he’d bring the topic back up again since he hadn’t finished explaining before he brought you downstairs. Something with playing cards.. right?

“You ready for today, toots? It’s gonna be a roller coaster.” He giggles and gets up from his chair, the same loud screeching noise invading the silence again. He held out his hand, politely waiting for you to take it. You knew you should take it, maybe if you played along for a little while, navigate your way through the building, you could find your way out. With that little hope in the back of your head, you accept the offer of his hand and stand up from the chair.

As he pulled you up the stairs towards his room, you’re lost in thought, trying to reclaim every single detail from yesterday. Even with Jerome’s consistent mumbling, you ignore him as your mind goes as far as to recall when you had woken up tied to that chair with Jerome standing above you. He kept teasing you, he had killed Robert Greenwood, and then.. you were blanking. Your memories had vanished once Jerome had stopped walking and snapped his long fingers in front of your face.

“Hellooo? You in there?” With a few scattered blinks, you shake your head lightly to bring yourself back to reality.

“Yeah,” You take a deep breath before finishing, “I’m here.” Though, you wished you hadn’t been.

“Goodie! C’mon, doll, I told you we had a busy day ahead of us!” Jerome grabs your hand and sprints into his room. He sits you down on the edge of the bed and then walks over to an armoire that sat by the wall. Jerome opens the doors and sorts through the clothes, mumbling to himself, “no,” “too tacky,” “hm, maybe.” As he does so, you run your eyes over his stature, only now realizing that he had been wearing a long, red silky robe with blue pajamas underneath. Soft slippers held his feet as they were a little too small for him. Now that you had thought about outfits, you quickly looked down at yours. Your police uniform was gone. In its place was a long sleeved plaid sweater with random black sweatpants.

“You look cute in my clothes, doll face.” You look up when you hear his teasing tone, catching the wink he sent you before he turned back around and picked up a hanger from inside the closet.

Had he changed you? With your mind foggy, you realized that you must’ve fell asleep at some point. The headache from before came back full force as you tried to recall everything that had happened in that past 24 hours. You didn’t know why you couldn’t remember everything clearly, why you were so caught up in yourself. You rub your eyes as if it’ll help you remember everything.

“What is my doll gonna wear today.. hm,” he puts his finger on his chin as he thinks. You quickly try to think of something to intrigue him, truly not wanting him to pick your outfit. Who knew what was going through that maniacs head.

“Why am I here, Jerome? I mean, why am I still here?” You get up from the bed slowly, almost like you were trying to not scare away a cat. “You could’ve killed me back at the GCPD, but you didn’t. Why do you want me here?” You take a step forward, still wary of him. You were unsure of what the man was truly capable of and you were completely against seeing what he was.

The ginger tried to show no reaction as he stared off, but you noticed the way his breath seemed to hitch in his throat and the barely there picked up pace of his chest moving up and down. Mentally debating if you should keep talking, you gave him a second to adjust to the sudden question. His true origins were still yet to reveal to you. He obviously despised his mother, killing her on a hill and laughing about it. From the threats surrounding his supposed brother, he didn’t seem a fan of him either. You had yet to know what his childhood and his life was actually like. You wondered if he would ever tell you.

“Barbara might have some clothes in her room. Go look.” Jerome’s voice was heavy as he talked and he turned around, avoiding your gaze. He walked past you as he made his way back to his desk.

Rifling with objects inside a drawer, he waits for you to follow his orders. “I said go look.” You took note of the way his jaw clenched tightly and the how he tries to distract himself instead of thinking about your questions. “Go fucking look!” Jerome exclaims, motioning to the door. Even though you were used to the yelling that went around the precinct, the way Jerome had done it sent a chill down your spine. It was malicious and frankly, it was frightening.

Maybe you could find a way out if you were to try and find Jim’s former lover’s room. Without so much as a nod, you walk away and out of the door frame. The rustling seemed to stop but the clicking of the cards began again. Your hand glided across the smooth wall as you wandered down the deserted hallway. A long window was placed at the end of it, giving you a view of the city. Once you reached it, you took a moment to let your eyes search as much as you could.

The recording. It came back to you.

Jerome had been videoing himself after he shot Greenwood yesterday, before he took you here. His face was bloody from your collision and the residue from shooting the other man. When Jerome was finished speaking to the camera lens, he switched it over to you. You hadn’t spoke, but nodded to one of the ginger’s questions. Jim will know, you remember thinking that.

Jim knew about your conversation in the interrogation room that day. And though he was upset to hear about you kissing Jerome, there wasn’t anything either of you could’ve done about it then. Jim was probably scouring the city looking for you right now. The thought brought a sad smile to your face as you realized how much you missed being out in the daylight.

Without trying to dwell on it for much longer, you turn down into a random doorway, hoping that it would be one of the women’s rooms. Your eyes search the area, focusing on an identical wardrobe that was also in Jerome’s room. Hesitant at first, aware that there could be anything in this room, or anyone, that could pop out at you and risk your safety. After a few steps, you quicken your pace and make your way closer to the armoire.

The creak that sounded from the doors made you cringe, the awful noise echoing in your ears. As you search through the clothes, you pick the first thing that caught your eye, something simple. What was Jerome’s plan? Was he going to take you outside and teasingly flaunt you to the GCPD just for his amusement? Maybe then you could make a run for it, threaten him somehow.

All sorts of strategies and ideas combat in your mind as you reach in and pick out an outfit that seemed comfortable enough, and hopefully good for the weather, that is if he decides to be kind and let you get fresh air. You turn around with the fabric in your hands and wandered a bit in search for a bathroom to change in. A small connected room was in the same bedroom, flicking the light on and watching the room illuminate. As you close the door behind you, you finally, for the first time in twenty four hours, feel alone. Resting your head back against it, you breathe evenly, clutching the clothes tightly in your hands.

Once you grew comfortable with the silence, you get up and look into the mirror. With an empty mind, your hand reached up to your neck, ghosting your fingertips over the faint bruise that was starting to form. As you subconsciously swallowed, you noticed how sore your throat felt inside. You were embarrassed as you remembered what you let him do to you and the way you gave in so easily.

Trying not to let those thoughts plague you, you start to peel off the clothing that the man had put on you. You took your time replacing each fabric, at the same time trying to think of escape routes and what Jerome could possibly have planned for today.

Finally, as you straighten out your shirt, you jump when you suddenly hear a harsh knock on the door beside you. “Almost done, doll? We’re on a tight schedule today!” His loud, cheerful voice boomed through the door, invading the silence that once lingered.

Taking a deep breath, you try to compose yourself. While you were changing, you were thinking about ways to go along with his madness. Maybe if you pretend that he convinced you to turn over a new leaf and follow his actions, he’ll believe you and put his trust in you. If you try and act as if you don’t follow the GCPD anymore, maybe you’ll get lucky?

As you turn the doorknob, Jerome stands outside with a smile on his face. “Finally! Thought you died in there.” He laughs dramatically and you have to stop yourself from grimacing at the loud sound. “C’mon little miss detective, we got some work to do!” Never mind.

He grabs your hand and drags you of the bathroom and down the hall. He didn’t seem agitated anymore, acting as if his small outburst didn’t happen. That might be a good thing for you, to not let him dwell on it. The last thing you needed is to have Jerome angry at you. Even at the time, you knew that asking that question wasn’t a good idea, even if you truly do want to know the answer. With the mans sociopathic tendencies, no one knew what he was capable of, what he could truly do to you. And though you do have police training and you were sure that if Jerome were to try and fight you, you could counteract him, but with his impulsive decisions it’s difficult to know his next move, you were almost sure that he never did either.

As he pulled you along, you tried to think of any possible place he’s going to take you to. Checking off as many locations as you could, the last place you expected was the exact one he went to. You shouldn’t be surprised with him anymore.

The room was quiet as you waited.

When you arrived at the apartment complex and had followed Jerome up the stairs to a certain room he was looking for, you felt your breath hitch at the sight of the name on the door: Paul Cicero. You should’ve known he would come for his father.

Jerome opened the door and let you walk in first, a teasing smile on his face the entire time. You roamed around the room as you hear the door click shut behind you. No sign of any pictures relating to Jerome or his brother resided anywhere. Your fingers ghosted over the wooden counter as your eyes look over the arrangement of spices and utensils.

“Listen to me, baby,” Jerome’s voice cuts you out of your thoughts and when you look up to see where he was, you were surprised to see him just inches away from you. “When you hear that door open, I want you to go silent.” He orders, his eyes never daring to look away from yours. “This is gonna be fun.” He smiles devilishly and grabs your hand again, leading you over towards the other side of the room.

Only a few minutes pass until the door creaks and opens wide. Taps of shoes hit against the floor as the older man walks in, his cane swaying beside him. Not too long after he shuts the door, he freezes and calls out, “who’s there?” Jerome stays hidden, but the smile gave away his feelings. “I know someone’s there-“ You backed away suddenly when Jerome moved forward and wrapped a rope around his father’s neck. You tried to reach forward, your instincts coming to play, and help him, but with Jerome’s free hand, he tightly grabs your hip and pulls you behind him, limiting your reach.

“Hiya, pops. Long time.. no see.” A sinister laugh left Jerome’s mouth as he finished his sentence, tightening his grip as his one hand held either end of the rope. It reverberated in your mind until you realized that Jerome had tied his father to a chair with a cloth over his mouth.

“So, how you doin’?” Jerome rasps as he sits in a chair across from his father. You stood by the counter, a few feet away from them. It felt terrible to watch, all of it was against your moral code and especially with the oath you took to being a cop, watching this and not doing anything to stop it or to help the injured man was wrong. But that one thought in the back of your head that was trying to convince you that Jerome wasn’t going to hurt him, he was his father for fucks sake. And then you remember how you got into this mess.

“The silent treatment, huh? Hey, I’ll tell ya a story.” Jerome continues, having a one sided conversation with the man across from him. “You remember Kansas city, dad. The circus went through town every spring, right around my birthday.” His voice grows deeper as he talks, his emotions revealing themselves.

“There was this guy. Him and my mom used to drink and.. fornicate and beat the crap out of me. They’d make a whole night out of it. And I remember one time,” He put his hands out and started to get up from his chair slowly, keeping eye contact with Mr. Cicero.

“It was my ninth birthday, him and my mom had just finished round one of boozing, boning, beating up Jerome and decided to take a little break.” Jerome explains it in a way so casual, showing that he had grown accustomed to the abuse from his mother. “Anyway,” He turns and leans toward the table in front of you, picking up a knife and inspecting it as he talks.

“I was outside the trailer and you were there. And you said, “why are you crying, Jerome?”” He pauses and acts as if he’s going to cry. “It’s my birthday.. and my mom and the snake guy are beating me.” He made his voice higher, impersonating his younger self.

“And then you said, “this world doesn’t care about you or anyone else, Jerome. Better to realize that now.”” With his voice deeper and raspier pretending to be his father, the tone sent chills down your spine. Jerome pauses before continuing, “And that was it.” He looks over at his dad with a large smile.

“You see, there’s this guy, dad, he believes in me, he thinks I’m gonna be a star!” Jerome exclaims and rushed over to the man tied to the chair, pointing the knife at him dangerously. “And tonight.. all of Gotham will see that, too. Expect for you because you’ll be, well, ya know, dead.” Had it been in any other situation, you would’ve laughed. But you were about to witness a murder before your eyes.

Jerome reaches behind Paul and undoes the cloth that was knotted behind his head. Mr. Cicero began to plead with his son, but Jerome quickly shut it down, his anger coming to the surface. You watch them converse, or rather argue, about something, but Jerome’s words linger in the back of your head. He was abused? How come that was never in his file? How had that not been revealed to you?

An hysteric laugh cut you out of your thoughts. “That’s not why I’m gonna kill you!” Jerome smiles widely and turns back around, facing the table. With the knife still in one hand, he reaches the other forward and holds up blueprints. “Plans to Arkham Asylum,” he lets it fall from his hold, showing it to his father. Picking up something else, he turns around and shows him again, “And look at these, oh,” he walks over to Mr. Cicero and brushes the material against his cheek. “Letters between you and your troubled son. Innocent at first glance, but Detective Gordon, you remember him, right? You’ll feel little bumps.. a secret message, written in braille between you and your son discussing my escape!” He throws the envelopes and extends his arms out, regaining his energy and smiling happily.

Jerome makes his way back to the table and grabs a can off of it. “Finally, the knockout gas, used to disable the orderlies!” He moves it around before setting it back down. Walking back over to his father be speaks, “Cause you see, dad,” Jerome picks up the chair he was sitting in before. “This guy I was telling you about,” he places the chair down in front of Paul. “He’s the one who broke me out of Arkham. He doesn’t want anyone to know about that.” Jerome sits down on the backwards chair, not before looking back at you with a wink after he finished talking. Your jaw clenches as you let his words soak in.

“The police will find these letters and they’ll think, “the blind old fool really loved his son, what a wonderful father. Oh, there won’t be a dry eye in the house.”” Jerome takes his dads tie and lightly dabs his cheeks, pretending to wipe away tears.

“They’ll never believe it.” Mr. Cicero denies.

“Oh, sure they will,” Jerome shrugs nonchalantly. “Cops are dumb.” He pauses before straightening out in his chair and looking back at you. “Besides you, gorgeous.” He smiles in a charming manner and sends you another teasing wink, finding it amusing in the way you react.

“Oh, would’ja look at that?” He giggles at his joke and gestures towards the clock. “We gotta go, doll!” He gets up from his chair and moves it out of the way. “Sorry you’re gonna miss my big night, dad. Hey, you’re psychic. So tell me.. do I kill?”

Mr. Cicero inhales sharply and a vicious look overtakes his features as he responds, “You will be a curse upon Gotham. Children will wake from sleep screaming at the thought of you. Your legacy will be death and madness.”

Jerome smiles wickedly and leans down to the side of his fathers face. With a menacing whisper that sends chills down your spine, you hear,

“Ha. Ha. Ha.”

Moving away and grabbing Paul tightly, Jerome wraps up the meeting. “Welp, say hi to mom for me.” Before you could try to stop him as you rush over, Jerome lifts his arm and throws it down to connect his blade with his fathers eye.

Knock. Knock.

Jerome freezes, as do you. The ginger places a hand over Paul’s mouth to silence any pleas.

“GCPD.” Jim. That was Jim. You could go out there now and tell him that you were okay, that you didn’t need him to worry anymore. But something inside you prevented that. You didn’t know what it was and it made you feel sick. In that moment, the thought of staying with Jerome was an actual option. It made you feel nauseous.

Another knock sounded from behind the door. “GCPD. Mr. Cicero, it’s Detective Gordon. We need to speak with you about your son.” You look back over at Jerome, noticing that he was already watching you. He had a hard stare on his face as he notices the way you hesitate. Taking a deep breath, you nod your head slowly, telling him that you weren’t going to leave. The furrow in his eyebrows undoes itself and a wide smile grows on his face.

“Mr. Cicero?” At that exact moment, Jerome quickly plunges the blade through his fathers eye as Paul cries out in agony. With a quiet giggle from the ginger, he rushes away and grips your hand, pulling you out of the open window. Before he steps foot outside the frame, he digs his fingers into his pocket and pulls out a card. Tossing it to the floor as it lands over by his father, the figure on the card stock standing out.

The Joker.

It was perfect timing for Jerome as he turns the corner, watching Jim pull Harvey out of the room, the blue knockout gas floating out of the doorway. Collapsing to the floor, Jim leans against the wall, trying to catch his breath. As Jerome starts to whistle, he walks down the hallway toward the two. You watch with an anxious heart, your feet feeling like they were planted to the floor and your mouth sewed shut.

“Detective Gordon, old pal.” Jerome speaks, crouching down beside the cop. “That gas sure packs a-“ Jerome sighs as he stops Jim from trying to hit him. He takes the gun from the detective as Jim loses his balance and falls against him. “That’s cute.” Jerome mocks, but was quickly cut off when Jim mustered up enough strength and pushed him up against the wall.

With Jim’s hand around Jerome’s neck, he rasps playfully, “I’m sensing.. anger.”

“You killed Sarah Essen.” Jim says with a heavy tone. Jerome killed your boss? Was it before you had woken up? How did he never tell you? Jerome smiles at the truth, nodding his head as much as he could.

“Now I’m gonna kill you.” You should stop this. Stop this fight, one of them may die, Jerome still has the gun. As soon as you move forward a step or two, Jerome lifts up his arm to press the barrel of the gun against Jim’s head.

“Jerome!” You shout instinctively. So many people have died already, the last person you wanted to see shot was Jim Gordon. He was all you had left.

Jerome’s head shot over to look at you, caught off guard by your shout. Jim followed at the sound of your voice, his face softening as he realized that you were okay. Before he could do anything, Jerome hit him on the side of the head with the gun, knocking him unconscious. Before he fell into a sleep, you just barely heard him whisper, “Y/N.” You felt a piece of your heart shatter for the first time in a while.

“Ugh, c’mon, doll!” Jerome groans and stands up, brushing off his knees. “Never let me have any fun.” He pouts dramatically, looking over at you with his own version of puppy eyes. You didn’t know what reaction he was expecting of you as you stood there, taking glances over at the two men that you cared for knocked out on the floor before you.

“This is just the beginning, baby. Soon, I’ll be the King of Gotham with you beside me as my Queen.” Jerome smiles with genuine happiness, walking over to you. You couldn’t completely tell yet, but you were almost one hundred percent sure that Jerome had placed his trust in you, something that would clearly be difficult for someone like him, and you truly didn’t know why he chose you… and you truly didn’t know why you started to reciprocate it.

“You’ll see, doll. Everyone will see.”

Once you both made it back to Theo Galavan’s house, he brought you back to his room almost like it was a reflex. “Busy day, doll, busy day.” Jerome would mutter or occasionally sing. He had his hand in yours, swinging it back forth slightly, whether it was a subconscious thing or not.

It was obvious how much Jerome craved the physical contact, as you wouldn’t be able to recall the amount of times he’s held your hand today. His palms were slightly rough, you were sure it was because of his days at the circus, working day and night, traveling to so many places. You noticed that freckles had littered his arms and lead up to his hand, scattered on his pale skin. The orange hair that rested on his arm was barely visible, his adorning marks seeming to take the spotlight.

Taking you by surprise, Jerome stops abruptly and pulls you close to him. His left hand never leaves yours as his opposite takes hold of your hip. With a sharp intake of air, you look up at him, trying to figure out what he was going to do.

The hand that was holding yours moved it up in a position that looked like you were about to dance. You were proved right when Jerome took a step forward, placing your other hand on his shoulder and moving with you. It wasn’t an award worthy performance, but Jerome seemed to have fun.

“Was thinking about what you said earlier, beautiful.” He breaks the silence and looks down at you, stepping back as you followed. “And since I plan to make you my Queen,” he trails off and shrugs, “I guess you’d want an explanation as to why you’re here.” His hand tightens ever so slightly in yours. “I see something within you, doll.. that same glint that was in my eyes when I planned to murder Lila.” He spits out the last word with malice, showing that even just saying her name rose anger inside him.

You opened your mouth to protest his statement, but he makes sure to speak first. “Ah, ah, let me finish.” He sways his body lightly, still moving in step with you. “We can rule this city, just you and me. Everyone will be under our control.” Jerome smiles widely, showing his teeth. “You know you want it, baby, don’t try and deny it.” He twirls you and then quickly pulls you back toward him, into his chest.

“Jerome,” your mind went blank as you tried to think of how to refuse his words. Everything felt constricting, like just this little time of you dancing with him was narrowing down your chances for a future. You’re a cop, that’s what you were always going to be. You couldn’t hand over your life over to this maniac as he tries to convince you while he serenades you. If you agreed to this, your life would be over. What would happen when Jerome would get on someone’s bad side and they decided they needed him gone? What would be the point continuing this madness if the reason you started wasn’t there anymore? Once you realized that you began to consider it, you berated and cursed yourself for even taking the second to even think of it as a decision. Besides, how could you leave Jim? He taught you everything about being a good cop, he was there every step of the way. How could you abandon him now?

“Shh, doll, I can hear your thoughts from here.” Jerome keeps swaying, leaning forward and whispering in your ear. His voice snaps you out of your options, blinking at the sudden intrusion. His hand leaves your hip and rests on the back of your head, pushing on it gently to lean it against his chest. “Just imagine it, sugar. We’ll run this city and make it better- or, well, worse. We can do whatever we want, whenever we want without any consequences because we’ll be the ones making the rules.” Jerome doesn’t stop moving once, the actions seeming to spur him on more. He was never one to slow down.

“All you have to do is say yes.” He whispers.

All you have to do is say yes.

The room was buzzing with chatter, the area filled with people. Women and men were dressed in their finest attire as they conversed with each other, some laughing and others smiling.

You stood in a long dress, looking around the vast room. You were told to blend in with the others in the room as you were given the clothes to wear to match. A mask was placed over your eyes, it looked similar to one you’d see at a masquerade ball. It was the same color as your dress, a dull, dark blue. Jerome didn’t want it vibrant, he had hinted to you that he had some sort of plan in mind for you, but he never told you what it was or when he was going to put it into action.

Before you both had left to make your way over to the event, Jerome had stopped you before you could walk away. He took your hip in one hand and held your neck, not in a hostile way, he just wanted to feel your skin under his hand. His eye contact with you never failed to make goosebumps form on your skin. When he broke the silence between you both, he said, “Think about what I said.” He whispered before continuing, “We will be worshiped. Just give in to me.” Jerome smiles that crazed grin at you and then walks away.

For the half an hour you’ve been standing here, you’ve reviewed your options millions of times. It made you feel sick that you actually considered the life that Jerome could give you. Even if he didn’t say it, he did care for you. And you were sure that wasn’t an easy thing to admit, especially with a personality like his.

If you go with Jerome, so many things could backfire. What if he was leading you on and decided to throw you away once he persuaded you to agree? What if you die a villain in your story? You became a cop because you wanted to help others, not hurt them. All of the things Jerome stands for are the exact thing you don’t. He thinks it’s entertaining to watch people die, to kill them with no remorse. He thinks there aren’t any consequences for some of the things he does and you’d be lying if you said that there wasn’t a little spark of worry inside you that, that could be the reason he might die some day.

But if you went with your gut and stayed true to yourself.. you weren’t sure where it could lead you. Would you still be offered your same job? What happens when they find out you hadn’t tried to escape from the lunatic and they fire you without any notice? There’s zero possibility that you’d be able to make it anywhere else in this city. Worst of all, Jim may never speak to you again. You knew that you wouldn’t be able to live with that.

As you stood in the back, you observed the room. The stage was empty of people, the tables and chairs occupied by wealthy couples, and.. Bruce Wayne? Your shoulders dropped as well as your heart.

“First, I’m gonna kill Bruce Wayne..” Jerome’s words from last night had rang in your head like a chime. Your breathing altered slightly, your chest moving up and down faster. Against your better judgment, you began taking quiet, smooth steps over to the boy. He stood next to an older man as they looked forward at the stage. As soon as you became just a few feet away from the billionaire boy, a voice echoed through the room.

“Good evening. I’m Dr. Lee Tompkins.” Your head immediately looked over at the stage. You knew her.. the Medical Examiner, Jim’s girlfriend. Your mind tries to figure out how Jerome ties into this, until you hear, “Over the years, we had magicians come in and entertain our children. So, tonight, we have one of the magicians here for you. Without further ado, please allow me to present to you.. The Great Rudolpho.” Lee smiles and the stage light travels over to a box with a woman in a pink tutu and mask, similar to yours, standing in front of it.

As she opens the box, she feigns surprise once she notices it was empty. When she closes it and stalls for a second, she opens the box again, a man inside it now. He yawns and then gasps once he realizes everyone can see him. The crowd laughs at the man’s actions and claps.

If it were possible, you felt your heart sink even lower than it already was. Jerome had a handsome suit on with a fake beard and mustache, a big hat and an eye mask on his face.

“Greetings, ladies and germs! I am, indeed, the Great Rudolpho!” His accent was strange, it felt wrong in your ears compared to his normal voice. He bows, as well as the woman. Your gaze follows the woman as you look her up and down, trying to shake the familiarity that she has. Your head moved to look at the floor and your eyes fell shut as you realized.. Barbara Kean.

When you look back up, a bird flies through the crowd. A red cloth was in Jerome’s hand, signaling to you that he was the one that did it.

“For my first act, I’ll require a volunteer!” His voice rang out into the crowd through the microphone. “Let me see,” he looks away from everyone and points his finger as he says, “Duck, duck, duck.. duck, duck, duck.. goose.” He points forward, just a few feet away from you. His gaze returns as he stares towards where his finger was pointed. You quickly look to your left as you see Bruce Wayne’s perplexed expression. The man had whispered something to the boy as the assistant, Barbara made her way toward him and offered out her hand for him to take.

You couldn’t let Jerome kill him, let alone on a stage in front of a crowd of people. You needed to stop this, to reach out and pull him away from Barbara so he couldn’t take her hand, because that act itself might cost him his life.

Hesitantly, Bruce accepted her hand, following her as she walked away. You walked forward impulsively, about to reach out to try and grab one of them, but before you could, Barbara turned around and sent you a wink from under her mask. It made you freeze since you weren’t expecting it, and once you broke out of it, you realized that the two were already on stage.

“Hello, young man.” Jerome was standing beside a box that was lying down on a table. Your eyes widened when you saw what it truly was and you suddenly felt nauseous. Your mouth opened just slightly, but it was enough to catch the man’s attention. As Jerome grabbed the large blades, he gave you a slow, small nod, the same kind that you did to him when Jim was knocking on Mr. Cicero’s door.

“Well, Bruce, this won’t hurt a bit.” Jerome clashes the metal together, a loud, reverberating sound that stung your ears. “Is there a doctor in the house?” The crowd laughs at his words, but your head turns once you hear the older man beside you begin to protest, obviously nervous for the boy’s safety. Without any hesitation, Jerome slides the blades through the box, making you flinch. They pull the box apart, showing you - and the man - that Bruce was okay. You let out a sigh of relief involuntarily, matching with the man beside you.

Barbara took Bruce back to his guardian and then stayed put, waiting for Jerome to keep talking. “Now, for this other trick, we’re gonna need a new volunteer!” He shouts, a smile on his face. He pretends to look around before stopping and gasping. “Well, look at that! What’s a gorgeous girl like you doing in a place like this?” Barbara walks a few steps before holding out her hand with a smirk. You try to hide your reaction, but your eyes widen slightly. Is this what he was planning?

Knowing no better way to get out of this, you take her hand. The room watched you two closely and you felt the eyes from Bruce Wayne and his butler watching.

Barbara smiles and begins walking back over to the stage, taking you with her. Both of your heels clicked on the floor, filling the silent room. She let you walk up the stairs first before following after you. You hesitantly make your way towards Jerome, the smile bright as ever on his face. The beard and mask did wonders to hide his identity as you grow closer.

“Who do we have under that mask?” His accent was louder as you neared him. Was this apart of his act? Some sort of trick that he’d ‘guess’ who you were and stun the others?

Jerome circles you once before standing back in front of you, that infamous grin on his face never wavering. He lifts his hand and places it on your chin, turning your head every which way, the exaggerated action producing laughs from the crowd. He hums and takes his hand away, playfully stroking his beard. A quiet, barely audible gasp was heard from the crowd, but you knew that the only people that could hear it was you and Jerome. His smirk widens as the small noise brushes by his ears.

As quick as you could, your eyes dart out to the people, trying to figure out who it was. Your eyes caught the two in the back, Lee now gone from behind them (did Jerome have something to do with that or was she just grabbing a water?), and Bruce’s mouth agape. He mumbled something to the older man as he looks your way, seeming to have recognized who you were, even from behind the mask. The video Jerome made must’ve been aired on the news that night, that’s the only possible way he’d know.

“I think I know ya from somewhere! Yeah.. I think I saw ya on the TV at some point.” Jerome taps his chin as he looks off, pretending to think. “Well, gorgeous,” he walks closer and grabs your hand gently, raising it to his lips and says, “Why don’t’cha stay up here for a while, huh?” He kisses your hand and looks back over at the crowd, shouting out, “Who agrees?” Cheers and hollers are heard from the crowd as Jerome lifts up your arm slightly, showing you off. You feel goosebumps raise on your skin at the attention, deciding to avert your gaze to the man beside you. “You’re gonna love what’s to come, doll face.” Jerome whispers teasingly and leads you toward Barbara, before walking away and asking for the Deputy Mayor to come up to the stage.

You watch carefully as he ghostly trails his fingers over the various knives. You knew what was going to happen, and yet you felt hopeless to stop it.

Finally, when Jerome picks one up, he looks up and smiles devilishly. “By the way, nobody here.. is getting out alive.” The crowd gasps and shouts as Jerome throws the knife, lunging the blade into the mans chest. A chill went down your spine as you watch Jerome shrug and the Deputy Mayor fall to the floor.

Catching you off guard (though, with Jerome, you really shouldn’t be anymore), loud gunshots echo throughout the room. Lights fall and break as people scream and try to flee, only to fail. As you expected, Jerome laughs loudly, tearing off the disguise.

“Finally! This thing is itchy.” He grumbles and scratches his chin and cheeks, light red marks forming, only to disappear a few seconds after. He turns and looks over at you as chaos is still being created. With a sinister grin, he walks over to you and forcefully grabs your hips. “Been waiting to get my hands on ya. Miss the way you feel against me.” He whispers hotly in your ear, making goosebumps form on your skin. He giggles as he finishes speaking, leaning down and leaving a kiss on your neck before moving back to the center stage.

When Jerome lets you go, a change in the corner of your eye made you look over. A gasp left your mouth as you watched Lee be tied up to a wheel. As she fights back, her eyes search the room until they land on you. With the mask still on your face, you didn’t know if she could tell who you were or not. But you were sure that your concerned expression was all she needed to know.

Breaking you out of your daze, Jerome’s voice invaded your ears again. “Sorry, Jimbo, it’s just little ol’ me!” Your eyes widened at the name. He’s talking to Jim? Ignoring your racing heart, you felt a part of it calm down to know that he was okay.

“Are you outside? Oh, you are, aren’t you?” Jerome talks animatedly to the phone that was pressed up to his ear. You only just noticed that he was directly in front of a camera, quickly moving away from him. “Goodie!” He giggles.

There were mumbles from the receiver, but you heard Jim’s voice clearly as he spoke, “I swear to god, if you’ve hurt her,” but the detective didn’t get to finish his sentence as Jerome cut him off.

“Which one?” He smiles and laughs. “See for yourself! This is live television after all!” He turns and walks towards you. “Oh, whoops! Get this thing off your face, doll.” His fingers curl under your mask as he takes it off and throws it haphazardly. His arm wraps around your waist as he brings you close to him. The camera pans over to Barbara as she pretends to shoot Lee.

You hear a faint, “Y/N?” from the other side of the call.

“Huh? You mean my girl right here?” Jerome mocks confusion as he looks over at you, squeezing your hip. “You know her?” He laughs at his own joke, the loud cackle reverberating off the walls.

“You son of a bitch.” Jim’s words were laced with malice as he talked.

“True, but.. not the point.” Jerome shakes his head. He lets you go, not before pressing a kiss to your forehead, for himself and to make Jim more upset, and walks back over to the camera lens. “Lets talk about what I want!” He pauses before listing off, “$47 million dollars, a helicopter, obviously, the dry cleaning I left at Mr. Chang’s, be careful, that man is a crook! And oh, I don’t know.. a pony!” He smiles widely as he knows Jim was getting more agitated as time went by. “You got 10 minutes before I start killing people and, remember, this is being broadcasted to every home in Gotham, so.. ya know, don’t let people die. Bye!” He laughs hysterically into the phone, suddenly coming to a stop as he hangs up the phone. He turns and says, “I think that went well.”

“Enough!” The random voice caught your ears immediately, your eyes scouring the crowd to find where it came from. “You need to pack up your pathetic little side show and leave.” Galavan.

Jerome turns back to the front and smiles, “Is that right?”

Theo walks towards the stage as he speaks, “It may presumptuous to speak for all the citizens of Gotham, but we are sick of you! You’re a small, vicious man with a pathetic need for attention.” Jerome’s smile never falters as he bows proudly. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion at his words, obviously rehearsed and acted out beforehand. What was his plan? Had Jerome been rehearsing this part with him as well and you didn’t know? “Enough, man, enough.”

“I’m curious what you’re leverage is here. Mr…?” Jerome trails off, walking towards the man.

He turns towards the camera and artificially says, “Theo Galavan.” More of his plan seems to reveal itself to you as seconds went by.

“Well, Mr. Theo Galavan, if you don’t sit down,” Jerome moves back some of Galavan’s hair playfully. “I’m going to shoot you.. in the face!” He smiles widely and started to walk away again, towards the crowd.

“I know there is some human decency left in you,” Jerome teasingly points to himself, as if challenging Theo’s words. “If you need to take a hostage, take me. But let these people go home, to their families, to their children,” before he could finish, Barbara came over and hit his head with a hammer.

She sighs, “boring.”

“Right?” Jerome agrees and walks back towards you. Barbara makes her way back to Lee as she argues with her.

“Isn’t this fun, gorgeous?” He smiles widely and grabs your hand, unexpectedly twirling you. He lets you unroll all the way until his fingers straighten out, and then tugs you back into his grasp. You land on his chest as his opposite hand takes home on your hip. “Your heart racing, the adrenaline rush, the feeling of your body on fire, oh! It’s exhilarating.” He laughs and steps in line with you as he repeats his action from earlier, placing your hand on his shoulder as he holds your other palm.

“When you come with me, this is all gonna be ours. Everything, everyone will be under our control, our thumbs.” Jerome’s eyes convey the excitement and the anticipation that he felt in that moment. The way he describes it, the once in a lifetime offer, a promise for an unpredictable and chaotic future that Jerome so desperately craved. And he had picked you to spend it with.

He stepped forward and around as he held you, not caring about the numerous eyes that watched you both, or he just didn’t notice, too caught up with you. His grip tightened quickly as the hand on your hip traveled down to your thigh, suddenly dipping you back. “Promise me somethin’, doll.” He leans down and whispers in your ear, “Never forget me.” He brings you back up in a standing position with a bright smile on his face. His hand travels up in a fast motion, circling around your neck, resting his palm against the skin like he had done earlier. Your breath hitches as he leans down and presses his lips against yours, his fingers ever so slightly digging into your skin. “Show time, toots.” He whispers against your lips with a smile.

Jerome walks back towards the middle of the stage, grabbing the microphone harshly. “Well, I think it’s time for tonights first official victim! You all know and love, poor rich boy, parents murdered in an alley, and my second favorite volunteer.” He smiles teasingly and looks back at you with a wink. “Where is.. Bruce Wayne!” He calls out to the silent room, waiting. He talks into the mic in a softer tone, trying to appeal to the boy to come out of hiding, “Did you know I’m an orphan, too, Bruce? I killed my parents, though. Where are you hiding?” His eyes search the area, before yelling into the mic, “Bruce!”

“Kill his butler.” Barbara suggests, her hands on her hips. She had an angry look on her face, probably from the conversation she had with Lee.

“All right, last chance, Bruce. But it’s about to get very butler brainy out here.” Jerome grumbles and motions toward the older man in the crowd. You watch the situation unfold, unsure of what to do. With the amount of time that had passed, you were positive Jim had made it inside the building. Maybe he had Bruce? You hoped that was the case.

“Eh, I’m bored. Shoot the butler!” Jerome sighs and says in a defeated tone. He was losing his patience and it was obvious.

“Stop!” A yell sounded from the curtain as Bruce sprinted toward his guardian. The man had begun to scold him, before Bruce had whispered something to him. Jerome quickly ran from the stage and forcefully held Bruce, a knife to his throat.

He backed up towards the stage as he smiles. “Let’s get this started, huh?” Jerome giggles and keeps the knife steady against the boys neck.

A gunshot echoed from one side of the building, Jim Gordon making his way through the red curtain. You felt relief wash over you as you saw him, but there was something else you felt in that moment.. something you couldn’t place yet.

“I don’t have a clean shot.” Jim aimed the gun at the murderer, staying as still as possible.

“Stay calm, Bruce.” The older man had told the younger boy, trying to keep the boy’s attention on him.

“Seems like we’ve got ourselves a pickle! What do ya say, Brucey-boy, wanna boost our ratings?” Jerome laughs crazily and presses the blade against the boys pale skin, starting to draw blood. “Smile!”

As you started to rush over to the pair, you were too distracted for the boys safety to realize someone had woken up. With a loud voice, Galavan yelled, “I said enough!”

Jerome begrudgingly let go of Bruce as the boy ran straight off the stage and to his guardian. He turned and faced Theo, only to be met with a blade to his neck. You stood paralyzed as you watched the scene, your mouth agape and goosebumps raised on your skin.

“I know, I know, this is not what we rehearsed.” Theo whispers to Jerome, sinking down to the floor. “I’m so sorry, Jerome. You have real talent, but now you see, the plot thickens, enter the hero.”

Jerome begins to speak, his mouth and teeth covered in blood. “You.. said..” he tries to take in a breath, but it backfires. “That I was gonna be…” Jerome’s words cut themselves short as his eyes dilate tenfold, that sinister smile permanent on his face. Before he lost the battle between living, his iris flash over to you, taking in one last look before becoming lifeless.

What about the future he wanted? The promise he made to you? He was going to be the King of Gotham with you by his side as the Queen. None of it was an option now. None of it made sense without the man that started it all, that had swore to give you what he convinced you that you wanted. What was the point now?

One of the last things he had said to you replayed in your mind like a broken record, “Promise me somethin’, doll. Never forget me.”

You wouldn’t be able to, even if you tried.

#jerome valeska #jerome valeska x reader #cameron monaghan #cameron monaghan x reader #jeremiah valeska x reader #jeremiah valeska #jerome x reader #jerome valeska smut #jerome valeska x you #jeremiah x reader #jeremiah valeska x you #gotham jerome

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iamadequate1717 · 8 months

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Stede in Season 1

After seeing some rather awful bad faith takes flying around after 2x7, I'm throwing out a beginning defense of Stede Bonnet (loml). It seems insulting Ed's fish is the worst thing that anyone has ever seen, and it really seems to be a continuation of anti-Stede sentiments within the fandom and viewing him as a prop for Ed (and sometimes Izzy) rather than his own character. Fanon Stede is ever patient, ever kind, ever devoted to his partner, and I'm seeing a lot of shock that Stede is a flawed, imperfect person with his own needs, that he says things in the heat of the moment, that people are seeing a less interesting character than what DJenks and friends have created. Stede's a fucking lunatic and I like it.

I'm going to break this into a few posts as I ramble on to the end of 2x7. I have big thoughts on the ending, but I need to lead up to it! I am going to try to be as brief as I can up to the lead up, but I'm not happy with certain parts of the fandom right now (it's just a spat, love you all).

(If you haven't seen the "I hate Stede!" and "I'm so mad at Stede!" posts after 2x7, I am so, so jealous of how you have curated your social media experience.)

Part 1: Season 1

I'm going to note first that this is really a more rambly companion piece of this:

In time budgeting, most of Stede's character introduction and motivations are built into 1x1 through 1x3, but you all know it is a common refrain of these episodes: "Just wait for episode 4!" (OK for newbies, but huge side eye from me with people who have watched multiple times.) Episode 4 is when Act 2 of 3 of Season 1 begins. The foundations of the story have been laid, the cast has been fully assembled, and we enter the rising action (i.e., the meat) of the story in 1x4. It is not that Blackbeard alone improved everything: it was the story structure itself that shifted.

Preferring Act 2 (ep 4 to mid ep 8) and saying Act 1 was bad and "boring" is a disservice to the story and really robs yourself of the payoff action in Act 3 of Season 1 (and now Season 2), in particular with regards to Stede's character. It's a TV show, so you don't have to like all parts or watch it equally, but if you're going to criticize Stede and what he does, you can't ignore the part of the story that tells you the why of everything.

For example, we see people saying Prince Ricky is "exactly how Stede used to be!". Episode 3 disagrees.

Ricky is some Evil Star Trek Mirror Universe version of Stede, and they have fundamental differences in their view of piracy, which feeds into the action of the tail end of Season 2: Stede wants to be part of the piracy world, but Ricky thinks he's above it. The few hours in 2x7 that Stede spends enjoying being cool in the Republic of Pirates is overall sweet (sliding past the murder, lol), not a relationship red flag or Stede being a dick. If you tried to join a group and they finally embraced you, how would you initially act? Being excited for a few hours does not mean Stede has made a forever commitment to piracy and not Ed.

But, I digress. To me, Episode 2 (along with 6, 9, and 10) is far and away the peak of Season 1. We see the crew bonding (and those unique interactions are missing in Season 2's truncated runtime), and we get a deeper look into Stede's head: his initial naivety toward violence, his insecurities, his unique captaincy style and problem solving. If I look at just his insecurities, Badminton's Ghost is Stede talking to himself (like Hornigold was vocalizing Ed's feelings in 2x3). Stede is harsh with himself about his abilities and maturity, and we even see that he took Badminton's petty body shaming in 1x1 to heart.

(Oh, I have thoughts on Stede finally being told he's pretty and then instantly dumped!)

But he continues to degrade himself.

"You're a child with a toy" Stede says to himself. Compare this to Ned Low calling him a "bumbling amateur" in 2x6. Real people voicing these thoughts (like Chauncey in 1x9) messes Stede up.

The local therapist clearly lays out the motivation behind 1x9&10, and Stede still continues with the negative self talk.

And then we get the best mantra!

Yes, baby! You can only be as good as you can be, and you deserve the world.

Stede does not banish his guilt that is haunting him, but Ed comes in at Episode 4, and any more serious feelings is all about Ed.

(Second GIF is a joke. I know it's important to Ed's character. Plz, don't be mad.)

Ed is the deuteragonist, and the story now needs to spend time establishing Ed's character and motivations. This doesn't make Stede's go away, but if you only watch Episode 4 and on, that's what it looks like. There are brief moments of Stede's vulnerability and guilt from then, but not much.

(Side note from a Midwesterner: I've spent too much time finding out if "grain tower" is colloquial for "grain silo" somewhere, and I still don't know.)

Ed and Stede just met here. Ed isn't absorbing much of Stede's comments (Stede also feels trapped, Stede has family guilt, etc), but it goes the other way, too, doesn't it? Stede is recovering from his gut-stab, they're still in a life-or-death situation, and Stede is still feeling his guilt (and just saw more guilt ghost hallucinations). Registering and internalizing what Ed is saying doesn't take priority.

And they enter their cute early relationship phase: They have fun together! They can easily talk to one another! Stede easily forgives Ed wanting to kill him!

Again: in between all the cute and fun, all the heavy stuff is about Ed. Stede deals with the aristocrats who mocks Ed. Stede is gentle with Ed's red fabric. Stede listens to Ed's past without judgment. Stede openly accepts Ed as a friend. We don't see Ed engaging with Stede in a reciprocal manner.

(I was so delighted when Stede called some of this out in 2x4.)

Stede is a few steps behind in their relationship: He doesn't know it's a romance. He doesn't know he was flirting with Ed. He's not immediately understanding what the Act of Grace was to Ed (hubby commitment!) as he's having his Nigel guilt, family guilt, and being seconds away from death swamping him all at once.

In the academy, Ed isn't even listening to Stede. He's moved onto his domestic marriage role while Stede is dealing with his demons.

With 2x7, I see people saying, "Ed was very clear in wanting to leave piracy!" If he was speaking to someone fully engaged with him, I would agree. (That also doesn't make Stede having a few hours' fun the worst thing ever.)

(Aside of what I see below: In Season 2, I see overwhelming praise of Ed and Izzy's performances and very little on Stede. This is not to disparage TW or CO, but Ed and Izzy are more in-your-face and obvious with what is going on internally in their scenes and they are nailing the drama scenes. However, Stede becomes quieter, shutting down into himself, when having high feelings, and RD's acting is very subtle and very beautiful in these moments.)

In The (First) Kiss scene, Ed is clear! He just wants to be Ed, and Ed is happy just being with Stede.

But look what Ed walked in on:

Ed is saying things, but Stede is trying to process big feelings of his own at the same time. Stede is there self soothing, still thinking about what Ed ignored him about in the bunks. "How are you handling things so well?" means Stede isn't handling it well. Ed is excited, but he (and apparently some of the audience!) is brushing off all of what Stede is saying while expecting Stede to take to heart everything that Ed is saying. (I mean, the beginning of S2 shows why Ed is so excited for this life change, but it is frustrating!)

If you only feel bad for Ed at the end of 1x9, please try to imagine Stede's perspective: suppose you have low self worth and are consumed with guilt about people you've hurt and then are seconds away from death twice, are you going to be thinking clearly and prioritizing (and recognizing) the feelings of a guy you've known for a few weeks and didn't know you were dating?

Stede has drawn inward this whole conversation. His answers turn monosyllabic, and his body language turns more and more panicy as the heavy reality of everything sets in.

Stede enjoyed The Kiss, but was this the appropriate time for him? (Like Ed enjoyed The Sex, but was that the appropriate time for him?) They aren't in sync yet, but that doesn't make one party's feelings more valid than the other's or one party evil for being a bit ahead.

With 2x7, I don't know why people thought Stede should be a mind reader and be able to quickly piece together a few statements Ed made while Stede was mentally drowning.

I think it should be noted that as of the end of 2x7, Stede is the only crew member who hasn't had mental reflection and/or therapy in Season 2. He realized Mary, Alma, and Louis didn't need him and he was in love with Ed in 1x10, but the voice calling him a child with a toy, an idiot, weak, and ugly is still there.

Continued in Part 2! (Still to come...)

#stede bonnet #stede did nothing wrong #our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd s2 #ofmd 2x07 #ofmd s2e7 #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd spoilers #rhys darby #Baby's first attempt at GIFs #ofmd meta

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ohmyglobwhatthefrickamievendoing · 8 months

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The way Ed looks so distraught and upset when Stede kills Ned Low is breaking me because he definitely blames at least a part of it as being his influence on stede & what he brought into stede's life and he's probably upset for stede as well - killing his father was such a huge, traumatic event for Ed specially at such a young age, that Stede finally killing in cold blood must have seemed like him losing his "innocence" and getting ready to go down the same spiral that Ed had

But like.................

Stede's being batshit crazy from day 1

He watched a ship full of people set themselves on fire and potentially burn to death with glee

He admitted to not really feeling guilty about actually killing Nigel Badminton and only really projecting his own guilt about leaving his family on to his death

Despite how much he stood out in his white suit in S1 he never really felt uncomfortable or out of place in the republic of pirates specially compared to what he was like in the party boat in ep5 & whenever he's back home

He was enthusiastic and impressed and interested when he got to shadow Blackbeard's crew on that first raid even as they were brutally murdering their way through the ship

Ed told him a story about a kraken murdering his dad in front of him and stede said 'you know what'll be fun to do!'

He moved on from Ed trying to kill him in seconds

Part of his "oh fuck am i in love with ed" montage was remembering that time Ed threatened to gouge out a man's eye

Lucius said "hey your boyfriend's allegedly beheading people" and stede said "boyfriend?👉👈🥺"

Stede quite happily follows Zheng Yi Sao while her crew is murdering their way across a ship

Stede, again, sets a man on fire with obvious glee and feels 0 regret about it later - fucking hell, he's proud of it

Whether he's playing the S1 part of "fancy gentleman", the late S2 part of "typical pirate" or the in-between part of gentleman & pirate (which is apparently & rightfully "romantic hero") that we see from early to mid S2, the one true constant is that the man's a fucking lunatic

Not to discredit any of stede's own significant trauma and feelings about killing

but I mean damn

Baby your man's fucking insane

#ofmd spoilers #our flag means death spoilers #ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd s2 #our flag means death s2 #ofmd season 2 #our flag means death season 2 #ofmd stede #ofmd edward teach #ofmd ed teach #stede bonnet #edward teach #gentlebeard #blackbonnet

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newtonsheffield · 1 month

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OMG we have to see Dan years later realizing who Anthony is when he sees him in an interview telling the story about that night in the pub

Dan idly sitting at home watching Graham Norton, and he’s hardly paying attention. He’s not a huge reader and he doesn’t really give a shit about some guy’s novel getting turned into a film.

“And of course you wrote this book about your now fiancé.”

Dan nearly drops his ice cream, because he recognizes the woman on the screen.

“That’s my fucking girlfriend!”

His actual girlfriend raised her eyebrows beside him, “What?!”

“Not now!” He gasped, pointing as the picture on the screen changed to one of Kate and this guy at university, their heads bowed together as they laughed at something outside The Crown. “I dated her in high school and university!”

“Who’s this guy then?”

“ I have… no idea…”

“Yes, yeah.” The guy was saying, “Kate. Isn’t she beautiful?”

The crowd cheered and he grinned as Graham nodded, “She’s your editor And you and she have been together since university is that right?”

“It isn’t actually!” Anthony leaned in, “So Kate and I met at university, and we were friends but we only officially started dating recently.”

“And you never had any feelings for her?”

Anthony scoffed, “Are you joking? Look at her? I’ve been in love with her from the moment I met her.”

“Was the feeling mutual?”

“No, she pretty much fucking hated me.” Anthony laughed, “She had a boyfriend, and she hated me until I slid into her booth at the pub one night and made my case for why my middle name didn’t make me a lunatic using literary characters.”

Dan’s mouth opened in surprise. “I know that guy! I was there that night! She said he was just some guy!”

His girlfriend chuckled, “Yeah, just some guy she’s going to marry now.”

“I fucking knew he liked her! Smarmy prick!”

“Okay this is a woman you dated when you were eighteen, are you maybe over it?”

“No! I’m pretty sure him and his mate put a note on the back of my bike that said Twat! Don’t laugh!”

#you never called it what it was #molly’s asks and answers

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theitgirlnetwork · 3 months

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What Are You Willing To Do?

Note: Hey everyone, its time to introduce a new boy to the lineup. Probably our craziest lead boy, Mr. Rafe Cameron. This is a snippet of his upcoming series. The first chapter should be coming out tomorrow along with an update in my other stories: Me and You and Better. I hope you all enjoy the snippet and are excited to embark on this new ride with me. It's gonna be toxic, sweet, and fun. Giving very, I can fix him/daddy I love him energy lol. But that's what Rafe needs! Pls heed the warnings though, this shit is for fun, and not real life, do not go find a crazy motherfucker like Rafe pls...or my oc. Let me know what you think and if you're excited for this story! The aesthetic for our leading lady is already posted. (Milan Cabot aesthetic).

Warning: Depictions of toxic relationships, dom/sub dynamics (throughout the series), obsession, explicit content and language (and everything else bad that comes with Rafe's crazy ass) MDNI.

“Take me home!”

“Yeah? That’s what you want, kid, that’s exactly where I’ll take you.” Rafe chuckles humorously, pulling his hand from its place on her thigh, leaving the skin he’d been warming with his hand open to the cool night air. “Goin’ the fuck home.”

She watches as his large hand expertly whips the vehicle in the opposite direction of Tannyhill, turning to go down her neighborhood instead. The houses are just as nice, just as expensive, but she knew there would be something missing at her parents home. Rafe’s nonchalant, arrogant demeanor has her blood boiling under her skin in frustration. She wants to wipe the easy look off of his face. “M’not a fuckin’ kid.” she huffs, crossing her arms and leaning her head against the passenger window.

She feels widened, sharp blue eyes burning into the back of her head as she stares into the dark streets, gasping when she feels the car jolt, tires skirting as the lunatic driver pulls into the shoulder of the road. Before she can react that same large hand is encasing her jaw, pointer finger and thumb pushing into her cheeks as he guides her face to his. “I’m like…I’m genuinely trying to figure out who the fuck you’re talking to.”

She whines a little, leaning into his hand, glancing over to the windows to ensure no one was witnessing this. “Rafe-”

“No, because, I know it’s not fuckin’ me. Like, you know better than that shit.” Rafe says, adjusting his grip, the cool metal of his ring resting against her cheek. “You know, I take bein’ your man like…insanely serious, like always…everything I do is for us. Like, you know that.”

“I…I do…”

“Handle business so I can make sure you have food to eat, buy you have the nicest shit, fuck you real good, m’not gettin’ the issue.”

“M’not saying there’s a problem.”

Rafe releases his grip fully, taking to cupping her jaw instead, smoothing his thumb down the side of her neck. “And I don’t ask you for much do I, baby? Just hold me down. Listen to me. Trust me to build our life an’ shit, that’s too hard?”

“No, it isn’t, m’not saying I’m not grateful, Rafey, it’s just that sometimes-”

“I’m not trying to, like, minimize what you do for me.” Rafe cuts in again, softening his tone and leaning in to rest his forehead against hers. “But for this shit to work, princess, I need someone who’s gonna actually ride for me. And uh, I need to know now if you can do that, sweetheart. Got too much shit to do to keep having this conversation. Too many plans for us. You need to decide if you can be my woman.”

“I can, baby, I can.” she sighs, nudging Rafe’s nose with her own, ignorant to what he’d managed to do again, blissfully unaware as her eyes slip closed and her guard slips down. “M’sorry.”

“I know you are. But uh, what are you willing to do to show it?” he asks softly, working to keep the smirk off of his face as he watches the small resolve his girl had mustered crumble as she breathes him in, her knees retreating from facing the window and moving over to him instead.

“Anything, Rafey.”

“Yeah?” he says smugly, tugging her into a deep, nasty kiss, tonguing her down with his hand hooked in the necklace he’d bought her, holding her to him. “That’s good t’a hear, pretty girl. M’gunna hold you to that shit.” he murmurs against her lips before lightly nudging her back into her seat and starting the car, mumbling under his breath as he drives them to Tannyhill.

“‘Take me home.’ Must’ve lost your fuckin’ mind.”

#rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe outer banks #outerbanks #outer banks #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fluff #love #milan cabot #oc #what are you willing to do?#sarah cameron #jj maybank #john b.#pope heyward #kiara carrera

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rustycopper4use · 9 months

Note

Do I spy an opportunity for Fizz/Ozzie x reader? 👀 I can't get that episode out of my head either. Could you per chance write some poly Fizz X Ozzie X Reader (gender neutral)? I'm kinda new to your blog so idk if you prefer writing like headcanons or stories more, but either format perhaps you could talk about what kind of dates they'd go on?

USUSJSJKSKSJSJSJSN SORRY IF ITS SORT

How ever did you manage to pull the prince of lust, and his popular entertainment jester. It was anyone’s guess, you weren’t sure yourself one day Ozzie picked you up, and placed you on his shoulder. And you’ve been on it ever since.

The relationship was a match made in hell, envious to any sinner.

The dates would dates were very diverse. Being the S/O of the very well know demons, came with the knowledge that many of your dates would be in the lap of luxury. Or in the lap of Ozz

You loved the extraordinary dates,even dates that were usual planned last minute. Or low effort ones funnily enough.

For example, one day consisted of just a marathon of Mean girls, and the pitch perfect movies.

That one ended up being a drinking game. You were the last one to pass out, barely.

You guys ended up waking up a day later with fizz’s arms covered in pink glitter, with an equally pink mean girl like outfit. It left little to The imagination.

However Ozzie was also a target of this pinkifying adventure, but while fizzaroli was an easy fix, Ozzie was more permanent.

He was completely died pink and purple. Even his flames, no one could figure out how.

You weren’t safe however, your face was crudely drawn on with a pink glitter pen.

Another date, was a day out to the beach! It was fun but of course paparazzi, had to be there.

You and Ozzie ended up having a ‘friendly chat’ with the demon, and he suddenly had a change of heart! But weirdly enough some bystanders find the demon hours later tied up and left for dead.

Some days you guys would just hang out in Ozzie’s club, watch the shows. Some days you would even join fizzaroli when he was on stage, Ozzie really enjoyed seeing you two perform.

There would be the rare chance you and fizz got catcalled, you didn’t care much it happens. But one day some lunatic decided it would be a smart idea to try and lay their grubby hands on you two. Even after many attempts of getting them to stop, Ozzie had to step in, the poor sucker. The demon was banned from Ozzie’s and lost his hands in some freak accident!

#x reader #lgbtq #lgbtqiia+#gay #fizzmodeus x reader #helluvaboss #fizzaroli helluva boss #fizzarolli helluva boss #hb spoilers #fizzarolli #fizzmodeus

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sanest-bsd-delegate · 3 months

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Hihi!! For your event, could you write a dazai x fem!reader with the song "from the start" by laufey? specifically the lines "when I talk to you oh cupid walks right through and shoots an arrow through my heart; and i sound like a loon but don't you feel it too? Confess, I've loved you from the start"! Thankssss

───ˋFROM THE STARTˊ- DAZAI OSAMU

🗝Prompt Lyrics : "when I talk to you oh cupid walks right through and shoots an arrow through my heart; and i sound like a loon but don't you feel it too? Confess, I've loved you from the start"

🗝Song: From the start by Laufey

🗝Pairing: Dazai Osamu x fem! reader

🗝A/N: I really had to brainstorm alot for this prompt. I really loved the request (Actually having guts rn to complete the pending event posts due late nov.

the buzzing sound of the cafe filled the area as you scoped up another bite from the pastry you had brought and ordered, enjoying the evening view of the Yokohama city.

Suddenly, you caught a glimpse of brown coat, your heart racing as you realised it was him passing by, hurryily you ate your pastry, before picking up a tissue and wiping your mouth and dashing towards the cafe door.

'Its him' You thought, as you quietly followed him behind, before messily placing your hand over his eyes, only for him to hold your hands and turn around, giving a big grin before saying, "234th tries and yet you couldnt suprise me Bellodonna"

You give a small sound of defeat before wheening, "The numbers doesnt mean anything Osamu"

"Ah well, I would follow what this lady shall say," Dazai says, before bowning down and extending his hand, "Care for a walk m'lady?"

"Why thank you, kind gentleman" You said, taking his hand while acting to dust off imagenary dust off your dress, "Your accent saying that, is shit you know?"

"Why ofcourse" Dazai joked, his 'gentleman' accent not leaving him.

You both started to walk together, lost in the sea of people, you found a quiet park where the city's noise faded into the background. The gentle rustling of leaves and the distant sounds of the city created a serene ambiance.

Dazai looked at you, his eyes softening, "You know, Bellodonna, I never thought I'd find someone who could keep up with my madness and make it even more beautiful."

You smirked, "Well, it's not every day you meet a literary lunatic like yourself, Osamu."

He chuckled, "True. But there's something about the way you see the world that's utterly captivating."

The conversation flowed effortlessly as you shared stories, dreams, and the mundane details of your lives.

"Something in your mind?" Dazai enquires, as you both sit at the bench in the park, watching little children playing.

"Nothing in particular," You said, your head slightly down staring at your lap and you twirl your fingers.

"Come on, lets go here" Dazai said, as he pulled you upwards, and started walking towards the abandant swing, before sitting on it, "Push mee"

"Where did the chivalry go mr gentleman?"

"Chivalry has gone dead woman"

You sigh before shaking your head, and pushing him, his figure going up in the sky and back, as you step aside to let the lunatic swing himself like a pendulum.

"when I talk to you oh cupid walks right through and shoots an arrow through my heart" You said to yourself as you sit on the other swing, while pushing yourself and swinging the swing (?) before screaming at the the top of your lungs, "AND I SOUND LIKE A LOON, BUT DON'T YOU FEEL IT TOO? CONFESS, I'VE LOVED YOU FROM THE START."

"That was some high vocal screaming there" Dazai spoke, as you both sit on a bench, letting the feeling of lazziness take over you.

"Yeah it was"

He will never know now will he?

TAGLIST: @averagehisoilluenjoyer @high-on-dazai @ruru-kiss @kissesmellow21 @just2normalperson

Join or remove your user here.

#bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd dazai #bungou sd #dazai #bsd manga #bungo stray dogs spoilers #bsd x reader #bsd headcanons #dazai x reader #bungo stray dogs dazai #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai osamu #dazai fluff #sbd dazai asks #requests to sbd #Songfic November by SBD

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pixie-in-a-moonlantern · 3 months

Text

F/M Durgetash one-shot I birthed within a single day. Dead Dove: I don't like Gortash (hence the title), but I do find him mysteriously, annoyingly attractive. Couldn't get him out of my head - so I tried, the best way I knew how - by writing a fic xD. I hope you like it, but it's not essential to my wellbeing, I just really needed to get this off my chest. But it's been fun, so hopefully you'll have fun too.

Explicit 18+, F/M, Enver Gortash / The Dark Urge (old name Talas, new name Nara, some half-elf or other, unimportant), rough sex, cunnilingus, p in v, creampie, some emotional trauma, light stabbing/cutting with a dagger, a bit of aftercare in the form of bathing together.

Yes, Gortash bathes in this story. TWICE. He really needs it :P.

I Don't Like You

01 - Brain worms having a field day.

The night is slowly creeping in, but I’m in no state of mind to sleep. I pace and I rake my hair and I groan. My friends are watching me with concern in their eyes. I can’t blame them—I must look like a lunatic, more so than usually.

I feel like I’m going insane and for a whole new set of reasons than before.

What were we?

Gortash got into my head and now he’s refusing to leave. Was he just trying to mess with me? Did he notice the unmasked disdain in my face and decide to make my skin crawl in revenge? He must know I only have red fog in my brain where my past should be. And he looks just like the kind of man who would lie about it to make me nauseated. No way I’ve ever let those grubby hands touch me.

Yet…

I can hardly admit it to myself, but nausea is not the full extent of my reaction. I feel as if my own body knows this man. My memory is still a blank page, but something in me recognizes him. Something primal. Something hungry.

The urges I’ve been having since meeting Gortash have very little to do with Bhaal.

“Honeymuffin, are you still not ready for bed?”

I hear Halsin’s soothing voice and immediately feel myself relaxing. I turn to him, grateful for the distraction. He’s only dressed in his underpants and the sight of his bushy chest hits a dirty note.

I ignore his question and just press into him, kissing his gentle lips with ferociousness he hasn’t experienced from me yet. He’s responsive and gives in for a few seconds, but then chuckles into my mouth and drags me off of him by the shoulders to inspect me.

“What has gotten into you, my love?”

I groan, freeing myself from his grip. I always appreciate how sensitive he is to my moods and thoughts, but right now, I would die of embarrassment if someone actually found out what’s running through my head.

“I’m just irritated,” I lie through my teeth. “Gortash is one annoying son of a bitch. I hate that we have to pretend to work with him. ‘Notice the way he just kept us there under the threat of violence, to witness his sham of an inauguration? After everything he said about wanting to be partners? Ugh, I could just…” My fists close of their own accord, crushing the imaginary windpipe.

Halsin chuckles again and runs a calloused palm softly along my jaw in a comforting gesture.

“I know, Nara, I know,” he grumbles low, pulling me into a hug. “He irked me, as well. He isn’t worth the stress, though. Let’s sleep. We have another long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

But I can’t sleep. Once Halsin goes into his trance, it’s like he’s not here to hold me together anymore. I toss and turn. I grit my teeth. I grunt and pull on my hair. I try to silence my thoughts with a pillow over my head. It’s no use. I know what I have to do to get some peace of mind.

I get up as quietly as I possibly can. I don’t bother changing—I don’t plan to impress anyone. I just take a small dagger and throw a cloak over my shoulders, so I can hide in the shadows more easily, and sneak out of the inn.

I’m going to make him tell me the truth.

02 - Urge! But not to kill.

Getting into the Wyrmrock is laughably easy. I know the guards would just let me pass, but there’s no way in the Nine Hells I would embarrass myself like that. Little ol’ me going to see “Lord” Gortash in my casual clothes in the middle of the night—what a delicious story for the Baldur’s Mouth it would make. So I utilize every last muscle memory from the past I don’t remember, slipping in completely undetected.

He’s in the throne room, but not sitting on the damned thing. The main section is drowning in darkness, but I see a sliver of light coming from behind the door to one of the adjacent rooms. A study, maybe?

I almost trigger one of the traps as I’m sneaking towards him. There are Steel Watch still stationed around the room, but they appear less than attentive this time. Do they have some sort of down time? Or did Gortash put them in do-not-disturb mode?

I’m trying to not get myself executed, so I push down the instinct to grip the dagger I’m hiding under the cloak. If he wanted me dead, he wouldn’t have made such theatrics to gain my cooperation this morning. The question of whether I wanted him dead remains to be answered.

I take a quiet peek into the warmly lit room and suppress a whistle. It’s a study alright, but one Gortash seems to be using as an apartment—a wide, comfortable, richly adorned bed stands next to his desk, draped in red silk. He’s not in it, though—he sits by the desk, bent over a document, clad only in what looks like a bathrobe.

I try to filter myself through the crack in the door, but the stupid hinges creak so loud I gasp and just inelegantly stumble inside.

Gortash jumps off his chair and twirls around, body taut, eyes alert, a quill in his left hand held like a weapon, the other hand ready to shove the metal claws of his fancy gold netherstone-adorned gauntlet into someone’s eye. I grit my teeth and consider pulling out the dagger—but the second his gaze lands on me, he straightens and lets out a half relieved, half amused chortle.

“Sneaking up on me again?” He shakes his shaggy head. “Are Bhaalists simply unable to set up a meeting, like the rest of us?”

I open my mouth, a scathing comeback ready, but as soon as I let the air in the room in, I’m stunned. There’s a distinct fragrance of soap and perfume, a freshness that only comes from thoroughly scrubbing yourself clean, and, among them, the unmistakable scent of him. The musk that speaks directly to the undamaged parts of my brain.

I can’t believe how clean Gortash looks now. He evidently didn’t plan on any public appearances this late at night, so even his hair is not styled into spikes anymore and it’s just messily sticking out in natural directions, still a little damp from the bath. Funny—he didn’t think to wash before his big inauguration, but he washed now, when no one important is scheduled to see him?

He takes my silence as an opportunity to speak more, instead of waiting for an answer. He tilts his head, gaze slowly gliding down my body, and smirks.

“Shouldn’t you be curled on your bed next to the enormous druid, sleeping soundly? Wouldn’t he be oh so hurt if he knew you were seeking another man’s company?”

“What the fuck would you know?” I snap, his tone setting off a charge of anger inside me. “You don’t know him. Hells, you don’t know me! You don’t get to make snarky remarks about my enormous druid.”

Gortash cackles quietly and puts up his hands in a calming gesture.

“Of course I don’t.” His smirk deepens, his eyes studying my face. “But trust me, kitten. No one…” he takes a seductive little step towards me, “knows you like I do.”

“I doubt that,” I rasp barely audibly, a lump forming in my throat. My guts clench, breath shortening in panic. It’s all just an elaborate joke, I’m sure… but it feels so familiar.

“You really don’t remember,” he quips softly, as if to himself, and I can hear a hint of disappointment in his tone.

“What were we, Gortash?” I whisper, voice quivering on the cusp of a mental breakdown.

He stares at me, chewing his cheek, and his answer is a single word: “Enver.”

“What?” I scowl, anger rising again.

“My name,” he reminds me quietly. “You used to call me Enver, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me pet names, Gortash,” I force through my teeth. “Whatever you dreamed was between us, it’s most definitely not there anymore.”

“Alright.” He presses his lips together in annoyance, but steps closer, eyes radiating something close to malice. I gulp, my hand curling into a fist, pressing to the hilt at my hip. “I won’t call you kitten, or love, or sweetheart. Those were all just words I used to tease you with.” Drawling, stretching his words, he hovers above me. “But I have earned the right to call you Talas.”

That makes me pause and I just blink at him blankly for a second. “Who’s that?”

Genuine shock colors his face. He takes a step back, mouth agape. “That you don’t remember my name, I would understand. But how do you not remember your own?”

“Because someone caved my head in, trying to kill me!” I scream, suddenly overflowing with something I haven’t felt for a while: self-pity. I feel tears prickle in my eyes and that just makes me want to yell louder. “Because someone took everything from me. And where the fuck were you when I was bleeding out into the dirt?! If you were such a shitty partner, why in the Hells did I even bother with you?”

Gortash’s features softened, pain and regret gleaming in his eyes.

“I wasn’t your keeper, Talas,” he countered. “You were always an independent force, often off on business I had no say in. But when you didn’t come back one day, I searched for you.” His eyebrows join in a pleading line. “I searched for you with every bit of resources I could spare. Then Orin muscled in on our plot and made me stop under the threat of unraveling the whole thing. I accepted you as a loss… but I mourned for a long time.”

His words eat their way into my chest like acid. I don’t want to believe a single one, but something in me knows it’s the truth.

“Don’t tell me you loved me,” I hiss. “You don’t strike me as a man who allows himself such weaknesses.”

He smirks and I bristle. I knew it. Liar!

“Love is for children,” he chuckles. “We had something much more precious. We made a great team. Your monstrosity and mine were in perfect harmony. No one understood me like you did. No one encouraged my every exploit like you did. You were such a horrible influence on me,” he purrs, his eyes half closed. “Delicious. Deplorable. Delightful.”

I gulp and shiver under the intensity of his gaze. It feels like he’s undressing me with his eyes and I can’t decide how I feel about it. I want to be disgusted, but that knot low in my belly has a different agenda. Without remembering a single minute of knowing him, my body knows it used to crave this man’s attention.

He extends his unclawed hand to me and grazes my skin. It burns and it tickles and it sends powerful signals all over my nervous system. But this is not what I want. It can’t be.

Quick as lightning, I pull my dagger out and press it to his neck in warning.

“Don’t. Touch. Me,” I filter through my teeth.

He catches my wrist quicker than I would’ve given him credit for. Instead of pulling it away, though, he presses the blade closer, almost cutting into himself. I gasp in shock, struggling against his strength. His dead eyes flicker to life, ablaze with desire.

“There she is,” he whispers almost breathlessly, biting his lip. “You seem so different… but I knew my pet monster was somewhere in there.”

“I’m nothing of yours,” I force through my dried throat, my voice failing me.

Suddenly, he moves my hand away from his neck, only to press my white-knuckled fist to his lips in a kiss. My whole body responds, buzzing in approval. “You don’t mean that,” he teases, his hot breath tickling the spot he kissed.

“Don’t do that,” I breathe out, a lump forming in my throat, making my voice sound funny.

He pulls my wrist to his mouth and licks it with a quick flick before his teeth start to nibble on the sensitive skin, sending shockwaves of ecstasy down my arm.

“Stop it,” I beg, the command I meant to utter melting into a pathetic mewl.

I twist and try to get away for a second or two, but he keeps moving lower and lower, licking, sucking, biting, and every last defense I had crumbles into ashes. It doesn’t matter that I’m someone else now. It doesn’t matter that I would never consciously and honestly team up with him again. It doesn’t matter what I think of him or what I believe he deserves.

I never had a chance. My body knows him, my body craves him. He’s like a drug addiction I never quite shook, and at the slightest sweet taste I relapse right back into him.

03 - A master. A slave.

He pulls me in, mouth still hungrily devouring my arm inch by inch, while his free hand frantically unties my cloak, revealing my simple shirt and long skirt underneath.

“You used to wear fancier things.” He side-eyes my clothing, not letting it distract him from my skin too much. “And would get mad when I tore them to shreds. This is perfect.”

My sluggish thoughts haven’t even begun to analyze the meaning in his words when he presses me flush to his chest, moving from nibbling on my shoulder to assaulting my mouth. I gasp for the breath he keeps stealing with every touch, but let him surround me and trap me with his body. I feel his desperate need mirroring my own. His taste is surprisingly sweet, with just a hint of hot spice.

“No,” I manage to mumble through our locked lips, grasping at the last straws of control. My hand is finally free—I try stabbing him in the crook of his neck. He yelps and groans, but my muscles are so useless I’ve barely scratched him. A thin streak of blood trickles out of the cut, marring the delicate fabric of his robe.

“You thought that would stop me?” he purrs, pulling the robe off his body. “Your knives left more than one scar on me. It was our thing.”

I stare at his muscly, hairy chest, mute. I see scars on his torso, criss-crossing his skin like a crude carving. That couldn’t be my doing… But the metallic scent of his blood sends a new sort of excitement through me. I know it’s my Urge, I know it’s not really me, but my will is weakened. My hand raises and cuts him again—just a little, but enough to satisfy the craving.

“Your body remembers,” he whispers into my ear, standing my hair on their ends.

His gloved hand caresses my arm and shoulder and closes around my throat. I gasp in panic, or I think I do, but heat pools in my lower regions in response. He presses a touch harder; his gold ornaments are digging into my skin, claws pinching my nape and my head is starting to swim with lack of oxygen. My fingers wrap around his wrist, but for some reason I don’t pull him away.

“Every time you hurt me, I will hurt you back,” he promises in a sweet, sin-filled voice. “Call it our love language.”

He lets go of my neck, hands roughly gripping my waist instead. He twirls us around and sits me on top of his desk. I fumble to find balance and end up sending his documents, ink and quills all over the floor. Instead of complaining, he eagerly swipes the rest of the items off the surface and pushes me down on my back.

The panic it triggers gives me back a chunk of my reason. Instead of letting him, I fight back, clawing at his bare chest with my nails and my dagger, leaving bloody gashes over his skin.

His head lulls back for a moment, which makes me realize I’m not helping at all. He’s enjoying the pain I give him. He takes fistfuls of my shirt and bends down to bite my shoulder—hard. I yelp, reaching into his hair to pull him away, but he’s already ripping clothes off of my torso, baring my skin, spilling my breasts.

“You are even more magnificent than I remember,” he rasps, grazing my curves with his gaze alone. The reverent look on his face sets my loins on fire.

I’m beginning to understand how I could’ve let him so close to me. A young, confused little thing, raised in worship of the Lord of Murder, would have no idea what love looks like. I’m still learning and stumbling, despite Halsin’s best efforts. A man who could make her feel so beautiful, so wanted among all the blood and death… such a man would have had the key to her rotten little heart.

I’m not that girl anymore. But I know that feeling. Its draw is familiar and powerful. My hands let go of his hair and fall next to my head, letting him run his rough palms across my chest and knead the pliant shape of my breasts.

His teeth close around one of my nipples and press just hard enough to shoot a barbed string of ecstasy directly to my sex. I muffle the moan with my hands. I can’t just let him win like that. I’m not doing this because I’m easy. I’m doing it so I don’t go insane.

“I missed this,” Gortash drawls, his lips and tongue making slow circles on my chest. “I missed you.” He bites into my flesh, gently, teasingly, while his hand slowly moves towards my sex. “In all your glory, Talas.”

“Stop calling me that,” I protest weakly, but he just chuckles and continues lower, and lower.

“You may not remember me,” he breathes on my folds, shamefully wet and wanton, “but I remember everything about you.”

And he dives between my thighs like a man who’s been starving and now can finally eat.

I gasp loudly, my hands instinctively grasping for something to hold onto—his hair. My legs twitch and wrap around him. I’m half worried I’m killing him, but he gives no indication of discomfort. His mouth is making the most intimidatingly dirty noises I’ve ever heard and I’m melting on his face.

All it takes him is a few minutes, stretched impossibly long in my damaged mind. I swallow the urge to scream and just grunt, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. He looks up from my lap, slick and gasping for breath, and smirks smugly. He knows I enjoyed it, no use hiding it.

He picks his robe off the floor and wipes his face, still watching me. My brain is too hazy to worry about the way I’m splayed on his desk, eaten out, undone. He props himself above me and studies my face.

“This is your most beautiful look,” he sighs, taking in the flush of my cheeks, the sweat glistening on my brow and the mess I made of my hair. “Precious little Bhaal-babe.”

I’m still coming down from the high when I feel him slip inside me. I distantly realize I should’ve gathered enough wit to stop him, but it’s too late. I squeeze around him in welcome and let out a long and thoroughly embarrassing moan. He matches me, closing his eyes.

“You still fit me like a glove.”

He’s so right. I live for the delicious stretch of Halsin’s gentle, loving thrusts—it’s the only sex I remember having, but I would kill for more—but this… Gortash feels like he was tailored specifically for me. My body knows his shape, just as it knows his touch. It’s like coming home after a long time and finding your old room exactly as you left it.

“Oh gods, I really do,” I groan as he lazily moves inside, savoring each stroke.

I wrap my legs around his waist and just enjoy the sensation, closing my eyes to ignore his intimate gaze for the sake of my sanity. If he’s trying to make me fall for him again, he’s as out of his mind as I am.

Clearly getting bored of the slow pace, he pulls me up and plops me back down on my belly. I’m too weak and needy to issue a protest, I just whine at the unexpected and unwelcome absence of him. He silences my discontent with a firm thrust that makes me gasp and clutch the edges of the desk so hard my knuckles turn white again.

“I know you love this one,” he purrs and presses my legs together with his own. “Sometimes you like to be in control. Other times you like to be controlled. You were the most fun I’ve ever had with anyone.”

I let out a growl at him mentioning his other partners while balls-deep in me. Perhaps he didn’t really want me back. Maybe he just missed the “fun”.

“You’re also the only one who made me consider settling down, Talas,” he continues as if he understood very well why his words upset me. “I wanted to breed you and watch you teach the little runt how to gut people.”

“Don’t even fucking think about it,” I sputter, miraculously finding enough ire to at least issue a warning, while still being happily pinned under him.

He chuckles. “Your response is still the same. Last time it was Daddy dearest… but you changed your mind about doing his bidding. Is Halsin aware you’re not going to give him a litter of cubs one day as he might hope?”

I don’t know how he even learned all these things about me, but I don’t care much. I grab the dagger left forgotten on the desk next to me and jam the blade into his thigh. Not deep enough to cripple, but definitely causing a lot of pain.

Gortash lets out a strangled scream, which mixes with a moan of pleasure not two seconds later. Fuck. I didn’t mean for him to like it.

What he does next pushes all irrelevant thoughts out of my head: he grabs my hair and yanks hard, pulling my head back, making my little cry sound ever more pathetic. His free hand digs fingers into my hip, holding me steady as he begins pounding into me with force.

I just open my mouth mutely, gasping for air, my eyes filling with tears. My brain turns into mush under the intensity of sensations he’s sending through my tortured body. I can’t see, I can’t speak, I can’t think. I hear a high-pitched whine through the mist around me… and I realize it’s mine. I’m screaming, lost in the sweet place between pain and complete ecstasy.

I spasm around his length so hard I can hear him gasp as well. My whole body shakes and curls into itself, a shaking, sweaty, moaning mess writhing on the cool polished wood of the desk. I can feel him swell within me, hot and ready, and I know he’s coming too—still inside me.

But I don’t care. I want it. Whatever he might hope to gain from it, I know I’m safe.

Instead of going slack like a good boy, he pulls out and flips me on my back again. He holds my legs spread, admiring what he did to me. I feel his seed leak out of me and drip to the floor. He smiles contently, dragging a fingertip across my clit, drawing out every last twitch my muscles are willing to give.

“This could be us every day,” he says softly. “Think about it.”

I don’t have an answer he would like, but he doesn’t wait for one. He picks me up in the most unexpectedly gentle way and carries me to the other side of the room. I thought he was putting me on the bed, either to sleep, cuddle or continue blissfully torturing me, but my breath hitches in surprise when he suddenly dips me into warm water. I slip into a roomy bathtub, blinking in confusion.

My brain needs a minute to restart, so I just watch him get inside with me, sitting me in his lap, cradling me. I don’t have the strength to protest. I just watch the little pinkish streaks, as water begins to wash out his wounds.

04 - This is why we can’t have nice things.

“How did you have this ready? Do you have invisible servants or something?”

Gortash chuckles and I vibrate along on his chest, making frantic little waves on the surface.

“The miracle of technology, Talas. My desk has a few convenient buttons and this tub fills and warms up automatically. I pressed one before we began.”

Well, that is convenient. I’m not sure if I want to be in this bath with him now, but it sure feels good on my exhausted muscles and aching sex. His arms around me feel nice, too, as much as I hate admitting it. I can hate a person and still enjoy their closeness, right? Right?

His hands caress me under the water and I let them.

“Good to know you bathe with your gauntlets on,” I quip, noticing the distinctive feel of metal against my skin.

He pulls his right hand up and turns it from one side to the other, letting the gold reflect the glimmer of flames in the nearby fireplace. The netherstone pulses with its own light, alive and tempting as the power it holds.

“While I’m more than happy to entertain you, I’m not letting my most prized possession just lie around for you to steal,” he smirks and I turn my head to have a better look at him, honestly impressed. “You changed. Your goals inevitably changed, too. I don’t trust you anymore, Talas.” He runs a soft finger along my jaw, dropping to the line of my neck and to my clavicle. I shiver, even submerged in warmth, too tired to correct the name this time. “If you want it for yourself, you’re going to have to kill me.”

I give him an evaluating once-over; then my eyes move to the dagger I left on the desk. His gaze follows mine and his smirk stretches more.

“Just keep in mind that those Steel Watchers outside will only take about ten seconds to join us. And even you, my dear, don’t have the skill to defeat them all naked and unarmed to get out of here alive.” His fingers trace the shape of my lips. “I would hate it if something happened to you before I had the chance to win you over.”

“You’re so full of shit, Gortash,” I sigh, laying my head in the crook of his neck. I feel too lazy to murder anyone right now, anyway. “You sent me to hunt Orin down and told me to not come back without her stone. You expect me to believe you actually give a fuck about me and care what I think about you? I’m here against your explicit orders, your lordship.”

“You came to see me surrounded by your new friends,” he grumbles and I finally hear discontent in his voice. “In the company of your new lover. What did you think I would do, fall on my knees in front of all my esteemed guests and your openly hostile troupe and beg you to come back to me?”

“Hmm, so your excuse is your pride?” I sneer. “I don’t believe a word that comes out of your mouth, no matter how trustworthy you somehow manage to sound. I only agreed to your deal because you didn’t give me any better choice. Karlach was furious. She wants you dead oh so very much. She gets really graphic, describing how she wants to kill you. You’re lucky I didn’t bring her along.”

Gortash groans and pinches the root of his nose.

“The company you keep nowadays,” he chides. “No wonder you changed so much. Every one of those bloody soft-hearted idiots putting their own opinions in your emptied mind.”

“When that’s what you wanted to do.” I nod in mock commiseration.

“I want us to be partners,” he scowls, tone wounded. “Equals. Sharing the power over the whole world. The Lord is only a part for me to play in public, while you reign over your own murderous kingdom from the shadows, unobstructed by law, unhindered by so-called heroes trying to stop you. We can have everything we’ve ever wanted. Together.”

I can’t believe how tempting he sounds right now. I close my eyes, letting my Urge surface just enough to enjoy the pure simplicity of the world he describes. I could let go. I could stop fighting for every sliver of free will. I could bathe in blood and have people worship my god through me. The Urge would be sated—I could feel the sweet rush of ecstasy from killing without worrying I might hurt someone close to me.

I would be lying if I said this vision of the future never crossed my mind. It’s an everyday struggle, trying to stay good, trying to do only good. A struggle I’m inevitably going to lose if my Urge grows in intensity for much longer. Killing Halsin. Or Lae’zel. Or Gale. The death of anyone in my camp—by my hand—would break me.

I care too much. Sometimes I imagine what it would feel like if I didn’t care at all.

“You would never tolerate any of my friends by my side, Gortash,” I say flatly. “If you really do want me, you want me all to yourself. Isolated, depending only on you. Malleable. So that if—gods forbid—I disagree with you, you could push all the right buttons and get me to change my mind, with no one to challenge your influence over me.”

I don’t know how, but I know it’s true. It’s what all people drunk on power do. The more powerless they feel without it, the more they enjoy any sliver of it they get and abuse the shit out of it. It’s why Gortash wants control over others in the first place. Inside, there’s a small, scared, unloved little boy, whose parents sold him to a devil.

I blink, my heartbeat spiking, as I realize I’ve just recalled a bit of my past—our past. Something I couldn’t have learned since the nautiloid. Was it Gortash himself, who confided in me, or did I discover this piece of history by myself? It feels like something he would keep very close and tell no one, so it wouldn’t damage the lofty image he’s trying to maintain.

“You’re just being paranoid, kitten,” he brushes me off, but his expression is no longer sporting his typical airy easiness. “When we were together, I was your confidant and your strength against the increasing demands of your Father. But you weren’t some impressionable child. You were determined and unyielding. Sharp as your blades.”

Sharp blades. Bhaal. His demands.

A sinking dread begins to fill my guts and I lift off Gortash’s chest to put some distance between us. My brain is still fuzzy, but bits of memories are beginning to float to the surface of my consciousness.

“Bhaal’s grand design,” I say in a shaking voice, “is for everyone to die for him. I was supposed to kill you, and then myself, as the last mortal alive. Did you know?”

Gortash’s eyes round in horror.

“Of course not! What kind of crazy design is that? How would he get any more murders with no one left to die?”

He’s right, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t going to try and carry it out, anyway. Just like mad Orin is probably doing now. What a good little Daddy’s lapdog.

“But that wasn’t what you planned for yourself, was it?” I press, my voice steadying with my increasing certainty. “And so I was suddenly in the way. Just what would it take for you to turn on your closest ally? Is her planning your murder enough?”

“What are you trying to say, Talas?” he hisses, but I can see fear in his eyes.

“It was you, wasn’t it?” I growl, sliding away from him, so I can get out of the bathtub without him catching me. “You tried to kill me! Just so I wouldn’t kill you first.”

I jump to my feet, nearly slipping on the smooth wet surface, but holding my balance well enough to scramble out of the water. He tries grabbing my hand, then my leg, but I slip out of his grasp easily. I throw myself towards the desk and retake possession of my only weapon. By the time he’s out of the tub, I’m already pointing it at his throat.

“Listen to me, Talas—” he puts his hands up in a calming gesture, but I’ve had enough of his smooth words for one night.

“You picked up a fucking rock and you beat me and kicked me and tossed me against stone walls!”

I scream and I’m sure my prevalent feelings are pure rage, but out of nowhere I get ambushed by tears and sobs. My memories are still a mess, but the flashes of my body being beaten to a pulp are vivid and terrifying.

“Talas, please—”

“I bled and begged, and you teased and laughed, as if it was the funniest shit you ever got to do! And now that I’m somehow back, you’re trying to get me to believe your sweet lies, just so I won’t remember what you did to me. But I remember! I REMEMBER!”

I know I sound completely unhinged, but my chest is so filled with a mix of the worst feelings I’ve ever experienced, that it threatens to burst.

“IT WASN’T ME!” Gortash’s volume finally matches mine, making me wince and pause just enough for him to get a word in. “I would never hurt you like that! If I really had to kill you, dearest, I would’ve done it quick and clean. Because I love you, you stupid thing!”

His confession feels like a slap to the face. I didn’t see that coming. My first instinct is to pronounce it as another lie, especially in retrospect to the first time he mentioned love tonight, but my mind finally calms enough to actually think.

A man like him wouldn’t say anything like that if he didn’t mean it. It sounded… pathetic. Baring his soul similarly to revealing his most embarrassing childhood memory, knowing his feelings are unrequited. His pride would never allow him to grovel so much. Not anymore, not when he’s got a taste of actually being respected.

“Please, believe me,” he pleads, breath ragged, eyes wide. “I have no reason to hate you. This sounds like someone who had every reason. Who enjoyed your agony and loved seeing you on your knees. I. Would. Never.”

“But you…” I exhale, confused. I’ve almost had it. I’ve almost found the one responsible for my unfortunate fate. “Then who the fuck did this to me?” I whisper and stifle another sob.

“Please put down the dagger, Talas.” Gortash points at the sharp tip still hovering between his clavicles. I reluctantly lower it. I’m honestly pleasantly surprised he let me threaten him for so long without trying to disarm me. It makes me trust him just a smidge more. “And maybe we can figure it out together.”

“Stop calling me that!” I lash out annoyedly. “My name is Nara now. Deal with it.”

“When you stop calling me Gortash,” he smirks in response, his easy charm back.

I groan, rolling my eyes. “Fine. Enver,” I say begrudgingly, but the name feels much better on my tongue than I expected. I must’ve been used to calling him that, just as he said.

I turn to the desk, intent on putting the weapon back, but I freeze mid-step. A mix of stimuli, a flicker of light, a rustle of the fur rug on the floor, perhaps even a smell… and the memory of my attempted murder clears a bit more.

I see a shiny red surface with an opalescent finish. Hear a rustle of a long braid and the pitter-patter of bare feet on stone. I hear laughter again, but this time I’m not just imagining Gortash’s… Enver’s, I clearly recall a woman’s voice having the time of her life.

“Orin.”

The name falls flatly from my lips. I feel cold dread seep into my soul at the image of her. I never quite understood why she had this effect on me—until now. Even though my memory was coming up empty, she was triggering a post-traumatic response all the same, just like when my body yielded to Enver.

“Hm?”

I turn back, dagger still in my hand. I don’t plan on letting go of it any time soon. Enver watches me warily, with a hint of curiosity in his face.

“It was Orin.”

He frowns at first. Opens his mouth, presumably to defend her. Then closes it again, his features smoothing out.

“It makes sense. She took your place, both in the cult and in the Absolute plot. She wanted you gone. And she really seems to hate you, though I wouldn’t expect her to need any solid reason to kick someone to death. She would happily do it just for fun.”

I close my eyes for a second, but I only need a few gulps of breath to make up my mind. I pick up my torn and discarded clothes off the floor and put them back on, securing them in place as well as possible.

“Where are you going?”

Enver reaches for me and grabs my arm. I toss him a warning glare, but don’t move. He’s still naked and wet from head to toe, he poses virtually no danger to me.

“To hunt,” I answer plainly. “I know a mad bitch that needs killing.”

“Don’t be rash,” he shakes his head, some of the slicked back damp hair falling into his eyes. “You can’t know where she is. Or who she is. She could slaughter your whole camp while you sleep and you’d be left alone to face her. Remember, she is the Slayer now.”

“Well, since we’re counting suspects, she could very well be you,” I give him a wry smile. “But I doubt she would keep going this long, having me all to herself like that, so you’re probably safe.” He doesn’t appreciate my joke, scowling like a jack-o-lantern, concern crumpling his features. “I need to go back to my friends and figure out a way to find her before she does any real damage, Enver. I need to go now.”

He slowly lets go of my arm, letting me finish putting the cloak on.

“No need to sneak through the throne room, by the way,” he notes, watching me hide underneath the wide hood. “The Watch was instructed to let you in. If someone could really just sneak past them like that, I could easily expect Orin in your place. Thankfully, the Watch can spot the difference, with you having a tadpole.”

My eyebrows rise. So that’s why he took that bath? Did he think my unsettled hormones would lead me back to Wyrmrock to see him? I clearly never liked grimy men—and he knows it.

“You were waiting for me?”

“I was hopeful,” he confessed, dropping his gaze for a moment. “I couldn’t risk just inviting you. But at least I made sure you would get in without complications. You always did like to have all the facts.”

I chuckle and shake my head. I still believe at least half of his words are lies and most of the other half are cleverly picked and arranged bits of truth. But now I’m also pretty sure there’s something genuine in him, too. Hidden very deep, surrounded by enemies—but it’s there.

“Be safe, Talas,” he says quietly. “Nara,” he corrects himself, smiling softly. “You have your work cut out for you.”

“I’ll do my best to not disappoint,” I shrug, sheathing my dagger, stepping away.

“And will you at least consider my proposition?” He calls after me when I’m almost out the door. His voice sounds tentative. “That’s all I ask.”

I let my gaze slide down the length of his naked body, weighing my options. Well, consideration really costs me nothing, does it? It’s very unlikely that I will agree to it. I have much better prospects in my scope now—much healthier ones. But the least I can do for him is give it a thought.

“Sure,” I grace him with a little smile. “I will consider it.”

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