be your father

||Revenge Is For Couples||

Joker x Reader

rape (mention)
suggestive things

this is the beginning of Mister J’s reign, before Harley Quinn and everything! enjoy!!! I have a sad ending in mind but i don’t wanna ;-;

Revenge was The Joker’s specialty. He knew every button to push, every bone to snap and every way to break a person down mentally and physically. Your father was an unlucky man. Actually, scratch that, your father was plain stupid. A stupid scientist of J’s that lacked the funds for a personal project and attempted to steal from The Clown Prince.




You weren’t born the same way babies came out of their mothers. Technically, you weren’t born at all. Your father took his deceased brides DNA and his own, creating you in a large tube. However he didn’t have enough of your mother’s so substituted it with a birds. When you were growing in the tube, your father noticed the bumps on your shoulders. He shrugged it off and told himself to check it out in the morning. However overnight, wings sprouted on your back and by morning they were covered in white feathers. Your father began to weep when he saw them. “My, (Mothers Name), we had an angel together..” He cried, “Our angel, (Name).”

You grew and matured until the desired age of 17. You were able to talk, feel, move and function perfectly once you were out of the tube. Your (s/c) skin was incredibly soft and your nails sharp as talons. (E/C) orbs resembled your mothers, as well as your (hair style) and (hair color) locks. You were a “beautiful specimen”, as your father would say.

Although people rarely came into the area, it was the most enjoyable time. Your father would make you wear a large sweater dress to cover your wings- good thing it was constantly cold in the lab. People questioned you maybe once or twice and your father told them the truth, you were his home schooled daughter. His coworkers had grown to love you and treat you with care so your father never seemed nervous about lying! That is.. until the day the green haired man came in. You thought it was funny when he visited. He would do everything he could to make your father tug on his hair in frustration.

“Who might you be?” The green haired man asked, not smiling which made him more terrifying.

“This is-” Your father stood in front of you but was shoved out of the way.

“I didn’t ask you!” J growled at your father but turned to smile at you. This eased your frightened state a bit.

“I-I’m (Name)..” You blushed and looked at the ground. He sure was handsome. He couldn’t be too much older then you, 3 years at most. Why was he so feared when he could be just 20 years old!

Then you figured out why.

Joker, or J, as he asked you to call him, hired a new scientist. Mrs. Nanika and this lady did not like you. At all. J came into the lab more when he knew you would be there, to your delight and your fathers dismay. For some reason, your father became antsy and stressed when Mister J was in the room. You didn’t notice the little things J did but your father saw it all. He would bring you chocolate because your father didn’t let you have any sugar. He would sit close to you as possible without you being uncomfortable- which was very close, you didn’t have much of a bubble. The most noticeable thing J did for you was treat you like a person.
However he wasn’t the only one, everyone could see that. Mister J would never be nice to anyone unless he had a motive but even then he wasn’t genuinely kind. You were special and everyone knew it..

Except for Mrs. Nanika.

J found you crying one day. You were in your usual hiding spot in the break room, in the cabinet beside the fridge. It was comforting to you to be in such a confined place, most people would be claustrophobic. J opened the door and sat on the ground, immediately concerned.

“What’s wrong, little dove?” He asked with a tilted head. Your beloved nickname he gave you couldn’t make you smile.

“The new lady was mean to me.” You whimpered, wiping your tears away. You didn’t see J lips curl up in disgust while you rubbed your red eyes but you saw his usual smile had disappeared when you looked at him again.

“What’d she do?” J asked as calmly as he could but his breathing revealed how pissed he was. Normally he wouldn’t need any more reason except that someone hurt you but this scientist was promising. Not to mention curiosity was a weakness of his.

“She yelled at me for sitting at her desk. I was drawing you something so she took it and ripped it up.” You began to tear up again as you held a out a shaking hand full of pieces of paper. J took them from your hands, angrier than before. He stormed from the break room and into the laboratory. The criminal flipped Mrs. Nanika’s desk, making her jump back in surprise. He dropped the drawing pieces from his hand.

“Sir, I-” Mrs. Nanika was cut off by a gunshot to her head. J growled and ordered two men to take her dead body away. After that, two more men came to clean up the mess and J returned to you.
You were still in the cabinet but slightly out, curiosity plain on your face.

“I’m going to tell you a secret, (Name),” J began, crouching next to you, “You and I are the same. We both are curious but we’re not cats.”
You were familiar with the quote “curiosity killed the cat”. J told it to you, it was one of his favorites. However you were still confused so you stayed quiet to listen.
“I’m not a good person. I thought I was a heartless monster- I kill, steal and threaten people.. but you make me curious, (Name). You make me think I still have a heart because something hurt when I saw you crying.” J continued, “You are a dove- no! - an angel, pure and perfect!”

He was talking so fast, he must have been scared and nervous. Once J finally stopped talking, he looked like he was ready to cry but you knew he wouldn’t. His breathing was shaky and harsh so you took his hands and made him look into your eyes. This made him calm down considerably so.

“J, I know you’re not a good person b-but I don’t want to change you! I met you this way and I want you to keep being.. this.” You held his hands tighter, your smile never faltering and your eyes never looking away from his. J knew when people were lying or trying to deceive him, it was something he was working on and he was quite good at it. However he saw no traces of lies in what you said. His heart began to beat faster as he pushed himself forward to kiss you. You had no idea what was happening but embraced the sweet kiss. J moved his hands to hold your body closer when you pushed him away. He looked slightly offended and mad but more worried that he had overwhelmed you.

“I… I have a secret to tell you too but,” Your eyes darted around the room, “I can’t tell you here…”

“I know a place.” J smiled.

You were now alone. You and J standing away from each other. He looked excited and nervous at the same time. You pulled your sweater over your head and dropped it to the ground. He gasped and jumped back as you fully stretched your wings. J would probably hate you now, thinking you’re a freak. Your eyes began to tear up as you looked at J, expecting rejection.

It never came.

J was behind you touching your shoulder blades, the base of your wings. He stroked them, cautiously touching the feathers and tugging them now and then. He seemed in awe when you folded them as tightly as you could and turned to look at him.

“You really are an angel, aren’t you?” He smiled but his face darkened, “How did this happen?”

“M-My father. He made me in your lab.” You said as you struggled to put on your sweater dress. This increased his anger but you didn’t realize it wasn’t towards you. Your father had betrayed a very dangerous person, The Joker for fucks sake! J was left in a position he’d never been in before.

He didn’t know what to do next.

Revenge was his absolute favorite thing to do! There were so many ways to destroy a scientist- all of them fun and made J laugh. However they would involve the disposal of their research… meaning you. You were the one person in his world that he gave a damn about! Not to mention the only person who didn’t want him to change. You admitted your feelings for this psycho just moments before. J couldn’t get rid of you but he couldn’t let your father go unpunished.
J was seething, his fists clenched. You reached out to touch his hand but he yanked it away and started to run his fingers through his hair in a frustrated manner. You held your hands close to your chest and stepped backwards.

“This was a mistake.” You whispered and started to run out of the room. J gasped and pulled himself from his thoughts, leaping and closing the door before you could slip out. He slammed each hand on either side of you, trapping you. Your (e/c) eyes shot open, frightened as you stared at J. He looked confused himself but he didn’t move.

“You like me, (Name). Right?” J nodded and tilted his head. You nodded with him, calming down slightly but your heart beating faster. J stroked your cheek gently with his thumb, “That lab is mine. Everything in it is mine. By making you, your father technically made you for me.”

You smiled innocently, naively following J’s words as he sweetly spoke. The green haired criminal gently moved you away from the door, backing both of you to the middle of the room.

“You don’t have to be mine, (Name). Say the word and you can go.” J walked back to the door and opened it, holding it open dramatically.

You shook your head, “I do want to be yours, J.”

J moaned and ran towards you, letting the door close again. He gently pushed you up against the nearest wall and kissed you passionately. J tried to reel himself in but the taste of your soft lips drove him mad. Your wings fluffed up as J moved his kisses from your lips down to your neck, making you give little moans. Then he stopped kissing and bit your shoulder. You yelped at the bite and wiggled but he didn’t let go until he was satisfied. J pulled away and smiled at your panting face. He unbuttoned his shirt and bent down, pointing to his shoulder he said, “Now it’s your turn.”

“H-How do I..?” You blushed which made J laugh.

“Bite down as hard as you can and don’t stop until it’s left a dark mark.” J purred and guided your head towards his neck. You mimicked his actions and kissed his neck a few times, earning another purr from J, before you but down as hard as you could.

“Haha! Is that as hard as you can bite?” J teased which made your face flush red. You bit down harder and received a growl in response. After a few seconds, you let go and looked at the mark you left.

“Why did we do that?” You looked up at J. He smiled and wiped your lips of some saliva, rubbing it on his pants.

“To mark each other. You’re mine and I’m yours.” J said.

“You won’t let anyone else mark you?” You asked, looking up at J. His heart skipped a beat and he nodded. No one else would ever replace you. His angel.

Enough with the lovey-dovey crap.

J had a revenge to execute and he would need you on board.

“Little dove, I need you to help me with something…” J began.

You gulped as you looked into his dark, icy blue eyes.

“…You’re not gonna like it.”

J slammed your father to the ground and watched as he picked himself up again. He told J everything, knowing it was pointless to lie now that he had been caught. However J was determined to ruin the last hours of your fathers life.

“Let’s make this fun!” J said with a sadistic laugh.

“Pick a number… Let’s say an age.” J asked, circling your father like a shark.

“17.” Your father answered, coughing up blood from the beating he was just given.

“17!? I was hoping a little younger but high schoolers play some interesting games, don’t they?” J smirked, glancing at you. You sat on the floor, a few feet away from your father and the criminal. Duct tape covering your mouth and holding your hands behind your back. Two large men stood at on either side of you. Your large (e/c) eyes were red from crying.

“Would You Rather! That’s a good one!” J complimented himself and turned back to your father.

“Would you rather, Dr. (Last Name), kill your little baby girl. Or! Kill yourself.” J growled the last part, still smirking. The pale man forced a gun into your fathers shaking hands. Your father was falling for J’s trick perfectly. However J wasn’t about to let you die, as always, he had a plan.

“Please, Mister J! (Name) won’t survive with out me, she needs her shots!” Your father gave a pathetic attempt to beg to save his own life. You stared in disbelief.

“Then I guess you better choose correctly.” J said, standing behind your father and winking at you. You put on your best poker face but felt giddy inside. You remembered the plan, J had predicted ever move your father would make. Yet.. You didn’t expect him to look up at you and have tears streaming down his face. His (e/c) eyes stared into yours, “I’m so sorry…”

He was choosing you to die.


Your father pulled the trigger and listened to J’s laughter instead of a gunshot. The man was howling, holding his stomach at the scene.

“For a guy of logic, you’re really stupid!” J managed to say, “How did you not see it?”
The green haired criminal began to circle your dad again.
“I saw it.. You’re infatuated with…” Your dad looked at you again as you were released. You had on a normal shirt, wings fully extended and stretched out. You glared at him, not moving from your spot between the goons.

“No, no, no, no, no… Not an infatuation. I love her.” J smiled genuinely at you, “(Name) is an angel and I’m going to treat her like one.”

“You can’t love anyone, you’re insane!” Your father shouted and J back handed him as a response. He sighed and looked back at you, his eyes meeting yours and his demeanor calmed immediately.

“(Name) doesn’t care that I’m insane and I don’t care that she’s not.” J smirked as he pulled out a gun, aiming it at your father.

“Does she need the shots to live?” J asked, his smile gone.

“No..” Your father answered honestly which made you clench your teeth.

You hated those shots.

J asked a few more questions about your life, making sure there wouldn’t be any complications with you.

“One more question, doc.” J chuckled darkly, “Can she get knocked up?”

Dr. (Last Name) clenched his fists, “No. (Name) isn’t a real human, therefore she cannot give birth.”

“Round the clock sex then!” J howled with laughter before shooting your father in the head. You laughed and ran up to J, jumping in his arms so he could spin you around.

That was before he was sent to Arkham for the first time.

Damnit J, why did you have to be so careless? He wanted people to know his name and that lead to his capture. He would be out eventually but the waiting game was never fun. Now you were trapped in a room with a hammock and a large bird swing. Very funny.

Daily routine:
1.) Stretch.
2.) Clean feathers.
3.) Sit on your swing.
4.) Nap while guards are away.
5.) Sing when they come back.
6.) Whistle when they tell you to shut up.
7.) Watch T.V.

And so on.

This was your routine every single day. You were slowly going crazy.
The only enjoyable time you had was when Frost visited you and updated you on J. He brought you one of J’s Arkham shirts (that smelled like him!), a picture of him and, if he had paper, letters! You cherished them all as you waited for your clown’s return. Anxiety made you think J would forget about you, no matter how much Frost tried to convince you otherwise. So the next time the man came with more gifts, you plucked out the whitest feather in your wing and told him to give it to J.

You don’t know if he ever got it.

Suddenly Frost stopped coming and occupying yourself became harder to do. The room was only big enough to stretch your wings but not fly which made them cramp up often. Your feathers were no longer pure white but dusted with brown and yellow. Your feathers also became matted and gross from lack of proper treatment. J would have his veterinarian come and preen your wings every month. You didn’t have the proper tools to do it but even if you did, you couldn’t reach the right places. The most you could do to care for them was stretch and flap them to air out the feathers.
The so called “guards” outside of your room only let you bathe once so far- you felt absolutely disgusting and probably didn’t look any better. With Frost not coming anymore, you could complain to anyone.

The guards knew this too.

They were convinced J was never getting out of Arkham and decided to have a little fun with you. They pushed you off the swing while you were asleep, pulling your wings and some of your feathers out. In a panic, flew to get away from them and hit your head on the ceiling. In result, you knocked yourself out. You woke up naked and bruised, everything hurt. You hugged yourself and cried for the first time since J was captured. You never slept again while the guards were around. You managed to pull the swing’s chains up higher so if they ever came in the room, you were just out of their reach.

Keys jingling made you open your eyes. This signified it was 3pm, when the guards normally came around. You stretched and scratched a tally mark on the wall, another day wasted. However as you stretched very limb and cracked a few bones, you realized something.. peculiar. The clock on the wall suggested it was 12am which was bizarre considering the guards never showed up before 3:00pm after Frost stopped coming. The door was flung open for a moment, a small device was thrown in and gas leaked out as the door was quickly shut once more. You sniffed the air and covered your nose instinctively. Sliding to the ground, you sat there as you began to pass out.
You woke up in a bathtub. A real bathtub, big enough to fit your entire body- wings and all! A smile graced your cracked lips as you splashed and cleaned every inch of your body. You weren’t sure how long you had so you made an effort to be efficient and quick. When you were satisfied with your squeaky clean skin- (s/c), the way it was before that damned room- you drained the water. You turned on the faucet, making the water cold and rinsing yourself one more time. You then sat in the bathtub patiently waiting for someone to retrieve you and take you back to the room. An hour had gone by.


You’d never had this long to bathe before. You wiggled your toes when you realized you weren’t chained up like your “guards” had originally done during bath time. The sound of a door opening made you jump but it wasn’t the door to the huge bathroom you were currently in. A delicate knock came from the other side which made you tilt your head.

“C-Come in?” You managed to find your voice and covered yourself up with your wings as the door opened. 4 asian girls, mid 20’s at least, came into the room. They all wore the same outfit, black strapless dresses, loose with cold trimming. They looked comfortable and had genuine smiles on their faces. You were beyond confused as they greeted you with a curtesy.

“Hello, Lady (Y/N),” One of them said, “Would you please step out of the bathtub?”

“C-Can you please tell me what’s going on?” You asked, slowly folding your wings behind your back. This was the most hospitable you’d been treated since J had been taken! You were shocked and scared but felt these ladies were harmless. The girls all giggled as if you’d asked a dumb question. The one that had spoken earlier walked towards you and offered you her hand. The other three dispersed around the room, grabbing items on the counter and such. You took the ladies hand and she helped you to your feet, holding on as you stepped out of the tub.

“My name is Minorin, these are my friends, and we are here to clean you up!” She said kindly. You say on a bench type chair and they promptly got to work. They apologized for the slight pain you might feel but “beauty is sacrifice”. You nervously sat there and tried not to fidget as they smeared warm wax on your legs, ripping it off until your legs were smooth. They repeated this all over your body, making sure there was no hair they didn’t want to see. They filed your finger and toe nails down nicely and painted them black afterwards. Then lied you on your stomach and rubbed lotion everywhere, giving you the best massage you’d ever had. They didn’t touch your breasts or bum but made you put lotion there as well. You marveled at how smooth your body was now. They revealed you to a mirror and smiled at their work. You were shocked! You looked exactly the same as you did before J was taken. You hadn’t changed at all. The depressing fact that you weren’t human settled in and replaced that shock feeling you had. They dipped their heads as you thanked them all, walking out of the room and closing the door. You were left in a towel, staring at your reflection once more. Your feathers still looked matted and mangled.
As if someone read your mind, your old veterinarian lady came in with a smile on her face. You began to cry as you hugged her, the first familiar face you’d seen in 3 months! The ladies caught you up to speed on the outside world but nothing else. They wouldn’t tell you about J and neither would the veterinarian in front of you. She brushed your hair the way she used to, calming you down. Once you were relaxed she extended your right wing and began to work, plucking and stoking the pearly white feathers. She repeated this on the left wing and after made you extend both wings. The lady perfected them and made sure you were healthy.

“Can you tell me anything? Where I am at least?” You asked, eyes filling with tears.

“(Name), don’t worry. You’re safe now. I’ve brought you some clothes.” The lady said calmly, turning to get you the clothes. It was a dress- your favorite one but new! It was black and faded to green at the flowey bottom. It had long sleeves that covered your hands, like that sweater dress you’d been accustomed to. The back of the dress was open, as a lot of your clothes were for obvious reasons. You happily twirled around in the dress, looking at yourself in the mirror for the 4th time. A knock at the door pulled you away from the mirror, your face hardened when you saw your “faithful guards”.

“Ready to go?” One asked.

“Where?” You demanded, feeling your confidence returning.

“To him.” The other one said simply. Your heart leapt and a smile graced your lips, you nodded and followed them out of the bathroom. It lead to a big bedroom but not yours, not the one you and J shared. You followed them into the hallway, listening to them as they spoke to you but not replying.

“You’ll tell him we treated you good, right?”

“Real good.” The other one laughed with an implying tone.

You suddenly felt sick.

These idiots acted as if you wouldn’t tell J everything. Or maybe they thought he wouldn’t care. Your stomach flipped at the thought. You didn’t have time to worry, the door opened and they lead you to the business room. You now remembered where you were. You pushed the goons aside, running into the room and looking around but you found nothing. You saw his black shoes poking out of the curtain and darted over, pulling the drapes back.

Not here either.

You smiled at the trick he had played and picked up his shoes with one hand. Your smile faded as you looked around the empty room. The door closed and you sighed, looking down. Alone in a room again. Suddenly hands gripped your waist and pulled you back. You dropped the shoes and squealed in delight, turning around and hugging him. J. Your J was back in your arms. You kissed his neck as he held you in a tight embrace. You both whispered how much you missed eachother, questions and “i love you’s”. J lifted you up and walked over to the couch, plopping himself down. He lied on his back and looked up at you as you straddled him. J was really here! He looked exactly the same but had a “J” and a star on his face now. You touched them gently, tracing your fingers along his face and through his hair, holding his hands tight after. He smiled but you knew he was confused.

“Making sure it’s you..” You said quietly.

“It’s me, angel.” J replied. Your eyes widened as you forced his mouth open. There was silver in his mouth! Where his gorgeous, white teeth used to be!

“What-!” You gasped as J pulled your hands from his mouth. He laughed and licked his grill.

“Before I was caught, I had a run in with the Bat. He wasn’t too happy about his dead bird.” J smirked proudly.

You smiled and tilted your head, “I can get used to it.”

You and J caught up, he told you everything. He apologized and held you as you began to cry. J did every trick he remembered that calmed you down, holding you as you relaxed.

“Th-The men.” You whispered in his ear, “I want them dead.”

J’s demeanor changed instantly.

He sat up, rage in those icy blue eyes. His fingers gripped your hips tightly but not enough to hurt you. J felt his heart break at the sight of you, tears forming again in your eyes. Your pure (e/c) eyes. J calmly pushed you off him, sitting you on the couch. You panicked slightly and grabbed his arm, “Don’t leave me!”

J pulled his arm free and growled, punching the wall. He pulled a phone from his back pocket, calling Frost. He began to pace around the room, not leaving your sight, fearing something might happen to you if he left. As the tension built inside the room, with J yelling at Frost, you couldn’t help but feel tired. You barely slept in that room, fearing the goons would take advantage of you again. J was back and you felt more relaxed than ever. You didn’t notice that your eyes began to close. J turned to you to check in on your state when he saw you were sleeping. The 3 months away from you suddenly hit him, before that you were at his side every day. He didn’t realize how much he missed you. His mind wondered to your appearance- you’d barely changed. J relived every moment with you up until his capture. Things will be different now, J silently promised you as he caressed your cheek. Since he was taken away, his empire had grown. His reputation had increased as well, he was feared, hated and strangely admired. To his delight, no one outside his work knew of you. The Joker’s weakness, his soft spot, his angel.
Frost opened the door, pulling his boss from his thoughts.

“They’re outside.” He said simply.

“I like you, Frosty…” J spoke sincerely but his words dripped with anger, “Did you know about this?”

The henchman walked closer to J, looking him in the eyes. Before the man even spoke, J had his answer. He didn’t even need Frost to speak but allowed him to anyways. He knew the henchman took care of his belongings. You were probably Frost’s favorite companion

“If I knew, you wouldn’t have the pleasure of killing them.” He growled. J smirked at the comment. If Frost hadn’t already won his trust, he sure had it now. J placed a hand on his henchman’s shoulder. A quick sign of gratitude and forgiveness. Frost made his way over to the door and the two henchmen walked in. They stood tall but shook with fear.

“Gentleman!” J smiled, extending his arms, “(Name) has told me all the work you’ve done for me on my leave of absence.. You shall be rewarded so.”

The two henchmen, smiled proudly and puffed out their chests. Frost would have looked at J with utter confusion if he didn’t know better. Why on earth was he talking like that? His boss snapped his fingers and caught his attention.

“Bring them alcohol- and (Name). Bring my angel something to eat.” J said, turning away. Frost nodded and left the room. The henchmen sat themselves at the conference table, kicking their feet up. J was on the other end of the table, guarding you and stalking his current prey. His icy blue eyes locked on his targets, full of nothing but rage. When J managed to drag his eyes away from the men, he would look at you. You stirred a bit in your sleep from the noise. Your wings, fingers and toes would lightly twitch every now and then. J’s hard gaze softened slightly. You truly were an angel. Even in slumber, you looked so innocent and pure.
Minutes went by slowly until Frost returned. He dropped off the requested drinks and held the doors open for a few maids to bring in a selection of food trays. J smiled in delight at the assortment before him. He never thought he’d be so happy to not see meat on the table. Around you, J wouldn’t eat any type of meat- especially bird. In fact, during his stay at Arkham, a guard was murdered for bringing the man chicken for dinner.
The aroma of food must have woken you up. You stretched with your eyes closed, as you would if you were going to open them and see the dreaded room. You relaxed when you opened your eyes and saw your beloved J standing there. He handed you a crescent and you happily ate it, your stomach growling. You suddenly realized how hungry you really were. J pulled out the chair he was leaning on for you to sit in.
You forced yourself to remain calm while staring at the men before you. They were obviously drunk from the poison in their drinks. You smirked as you popped a grape into your mouth. J licked his lips as he watched you. He knew exactly what you were thinking from that cocky smile spreading on your plump lips.

“Angel?” He mumbled. You looked at J and tossed a grape in the air for him to catch in his mouth.

“What would you like me to do, my love?” J got on his knees in front of your chair. He began pushing up your dress and placing kisses on your smooth (s/c) skin. You were suddenly very grateful for the waxing those ladies did for you earlier. You placed your hands on both sides of J’s face, bringing his head up to kiss him passionately. He growled into the kiss, biting your bottom lip and regaining dominance. J pushed himself up to his feet and pried himself away from your mouth.

“I want,” You panted, “You to take me into our bedroom and make up for every day you were gone.”

J growled with a smirk, nodding his head for you to continue.

“And I want you to promise me every time that you’ll never disappear like that again.” You playfully tapped your chin as if you were thinking.

“Never, angel. Never,” J almost begged for the best part.

“As for them…” You glared at the passed out henchman then lovingly looked back at your J, “I want them locked in that same room for a month. We’ll talk about a real revenge after.”

J didn’t need you to finish.

He swooped you into his arms and ran straight for the bedroom, yelling at Frost on his way out. J was certainly going to show you how much he missed you.

Creepypasta #1075: Just Following Orders

Length: Short

“Armed. Assume standby.”

You sit behind the console. The uncomfortable metal seat digging into your lower back, the taste of recycled air passing over your tongue as you sharply inhale.

Your attention is focused on the controls before you. The keys have already been turned and the commander’s irises scanned. All that remains is to push the button marked ‘execute’.

“Orders are in,” your commander barks. “Execute payload.”

You were a good kid, an only child, a straight-A student. You majored in FMS because you thought it was interesting, although you agreed when your father said that all the good jobs would be in Fusion Mechanics and Sciences someday.

Not that there were a lot of good jobs when you graduated. The energy sector was nationalized during your third semester, and the wartime economy just kept getting worse.

What choices did you really have?

The IDF was heavily recruiting, as always. For many, enlisting with the Imperial Defense Forces was the only option other than homelessness and starvation. For you, it was a practical choice. With your education and specialty, you easily bypassed the rank-and-file grunts. You found a comfortable position working in weapons maintenance and control.

As the wars continued, you heard about the fighting, but you were never anywhere near it. The IDF had wiped away your student debt and provided a decent living. You hadn’t even touched a gun or wore armor since basic training.

It was the promotion to Fusion-Specialist 1st Class which saw your assignment to the sub. The conditions were cramped, but the hazard pay was certainly welcome.

The months at sea were mainly routine for you: making sure the fusion warheads and powerplant were in optimal condition, supervising the lower-level mechanics and engineers. During the close-calls and tense moments, you could safely cower in your bunk, waiting for the danger to pass.

This was the first time you had actually been called up to the console.

The situation on the ground and the thought processes of the Imperial leadership are a mystery to you, but the order has been given and it’s yours to execute

Your hand hovers over the console and the button which will give the submarine’s arsenal of fusion weapons permission to ignite.

A rough calculation from your college days tells you that millions of people will likely die when the warheads detonate, regardless of where on the planet they land.

If the weapons are pointed at populated areas, which they almost certainly are, the number will be closer to billions.

You can end the lives of more people than you will ever know, all with a simple button push.

More importantly, you’ve been ordered to. If you disobey, you’ll be detained, stripped of your rank, and probably jettisoned, as the sub has no room for prisoners. Someone else would just take your place, anyway.

Seconds have already passed since the order was given.

You can feel your commander’s impatience. Can sense his hand hovering over his sidearm.

Credits to: Lord_Bronte

Enchanted // mgc


(Y/SN) = Your sister’s name

Originally posted by sexycliffconda

“No! No! No!” You exclaimed.

“The King had invited every families from all over the country for the Prince to pick a bride,” Your father said.

“Exactly! I have no interest in marrying the prince or whatsoever. There are thousands of girls out there dying to marry him, so why should I come?”

“Y/N, this is for your own good,” your mother said.

“You said you would let me marry someone I love!” You shouted. “Not a stranger!”

Your parents answered you with a deafening silence.

Your younger sister sensed the situation won’t end well and grabbed your hand and led you out of your parents’ room.

“Are you calm now?” Your sister asked when you both reached your shared room.

You nodded. “Thanks, (Y/SN).”

“You seriously don’t want to come to the party?” she asked.

You groaned. 

“Are we seriously going to start this discussion again?” You retorted.

“I heard there was going to be large amount of extravagant food,” she said.

This caught your attention.

“Did you say food?”

“(Y/SN), could you please help me with this?” You asked.

Your sister quickly helped with your dress and smiled.

“I’m sure by the end of the day you’ll have a lot of suitors,” she giggled.

“I’m going there because of the food okay? Not to find someone to marry,” You stated.

“Sure, sure.”

As you stood quietly in the corner of the ballroom, still taking everything in, your sister approached you with a tray of delicacies. 

“(Y/N), didn’t you come for this? Why are you here alone?" 

Your parents was somewhere in the ballroom, probably socializing with other families. But you couldn’t care any less since you weren’t a competition. 

"Sorry I just got a bit distracted in my mind." 

Your sister stared at you with a worried expression. "You sure you’re okay?" 

You gave her a nod and plopped one of the sweet treat into your mouth. 

As you both were enjoying the evening, a loud trumpet honked through the air, announcing that the King and Queen was making their appearance, including the Prince.

When he glided down the grand stairs in such an elegant manner, all the attention from the King and Queen shifted to him as if his presence demanded all the attention, including yours.

As his eyes swept across the room, he somehow stopped as his gaze found yours, leaving you in awe. 

Never have you ever seen such beautiful emerald eyes. 

You also knew you were in deep since it was indeed, the Prince.

The King had invited every wealthy family from across the country to the Great Banquet, in hopes that the Prince would find someone to marry. 

Once Prince Michael reached the bottom of the stairs, girls started to surround him.

Your sister gave you a nudge but you had no intention to be closer to the Prince. Your parents also approached you, encouraging you to try and approach the prince. When you couldn’t stand their constant nag any longer, you excused yourself and went out to the quiet garden.

You were exhausted as you sat on the cold, stone bench. The night air touched your exposed arms, earning you a shiver. You needed some time alone. Some time to think peacefully.

At least it wasn’t suffocating any longer now, you thought.

You were lost in your thoughts when someone sat beside you, snapping you out of your daze.

You turned your head and it was the Prince.

You stood up quickly and gave a curtsy. “I-I’m sorry if I’m interrupting you, Your Highness.”

You were about to make your way back until he reached and held your left wrist. “Please don’t be bothered by me. I could use a company.”

“But Your High-”

“Call me Michael.”

You blinked in confusion.

“It’s tiring on how people treat you based on your level, you know. We’re all humans yet are treated unequally.”

You sat back down, listening to his rant about how he saw a poor, old man earlier in the morning, sitting on the roadside with his knees bleeding yet no one has cared enough to help him.

“I’m sorry for talking too much. I realized I haven’t ask for your name.”

“It’s (Y/N), Your Highness.”

He let out a chuckle. “Didn’t I told you to call me Michael?”

“I-I mean Michael?”

“So, (Y/N), what are you doing here all alone?”

“I just needed some air.”

You never thought the Prince of all people would think such way about the ones who are below him.

And you found that truly admirable.

“I… Thank you,” he said. “Thank you for listening to me.”

You smiled. “No problem.”

“I would gladly listen to whatever it is in your mind,” Michael blurted.

You chuckled. “Why, I am so honoured, Your Majesty.”

“You listened to me, it is only fair if I become your listening ear as well, am I right?”

You nodded in agreement. 

“Well, my parents wanted me to find someone to marry as quickly as possible,” you explained. “I never intended to since I believe that true love exists and I just needed to be patient until it comes. I don’t want a loveless marriage just for the sake of the family. Call me selfish, but I also want to find my own happiness as well.”

You were actually a bit surprised as Michael listened intently to what you were saying the whole time.

“Thanks for listening to me as well,” you said.

“No problem, I’m sure your parents wants what is best for you, (Y/N). If you disagree on their decision, you should tell them.”

Afterwards, silence fell between the two of you but it was comfortable as if just being in one another’s presence was enough without any words needed to be uttered.

You realized an hour has passed with you both having little random conversations here and there.

“I better get going,” you said as you stood up until he grabbed your hand.

His eyes was filled with worry and disappointment. “W-Will I see you again?”

You didn’t have to think twice as you answered, “Yes. Of course.”

anonymous asked:

Hey! Have you ever thought about an AU where Sakumo was restructed along with the rest of the Hokages and Kakashi is horrified when he figured out that his Father and the Snake Sannin used to have a relationship together?

I had not, but that would be…really tragic but also really hilarious. Talk about the very worst way to figure out your father one had a thing for the quasi-mad scientist. Yikes.

I led you out into the ocean
As the other parents scream
A bombardment of phone pics
Crying out to the press like gods

Your father just watched
Silent in the way father’s wear
I whispered words to the seas
That only mermaids know

I gave up my fins for love but
Remained a child of the waves but
Hoped you would feel the pull but
You just reached back for land

I held you under but your gills
Refused to sprout from flesh
You ran you ran you ran on feet
And I continued into the waves

"The Upcoming Ball"

Summary: As a new professor at Hogwarts you can’t wait for the Yule Ball.

Note: I know this gif isn’t of Snape, but I really like it. Thinking of making a part two, but I’m not sure. Opinions are much appreciated.

Originally posted by blackfloralia

As a professor at Hogwarts you couldn’t wait for the Yule Ball. As a young girl you lived in America because of the work your father was in, thus attending Ilvermorny. However, once you graduated you moved to Scotland and sought work at Hogwarts as an Alchemy professor. When Dumbledore contacted you for the position you were beside yourself with joy.

“Professor Y/L/N?” Snape’s voice interrupted your reminiscing.

“Sorry. What?” You apologised and turned your attention to the tall man.

“Ugh, you’re as bad as the children.” He said as he sat down across from you.

You watched the mysterious man and couldn’t help but thingk he’d make an interesting date to the Yule Ball.

Since your start at Hogwarts he seemed to take a particular liking of taunting you and even talking with you. He often walked down the halls with you, he’d never miss a beat to say something sarcastic or try pushing your buttons a little.

To you it was a wonderful time and you’d always tell him how much you enjoyed his company as you parted. Minerva always found a way to tease you about your schoolgirl crush on the man.

“As I was saying,” he said dryly, one again taking you out of your thoughts, “The Yule Ball is coming up and I’d much rather not teach the children to dance, would you do it instead?”

You nearly lost your composure for a moment.

“Me? Teach the children to dance to a ball I’ve never even been to?” You scoffed, “I’d rather not.”

He huffed and rolled his eyes.

“Fine.” He said and in one swift movement he got up and left the small lounge.

You wished you had said something different to make him stay longer, you loved having him around.


You were walking down to the professors’ lounge with Minerva laughing and talking about the upcoming ball. You entered the room and sat down in the armchair that was almost always empty.

The door swung open and in walked your crush.

“Hello Severus” Minerva greeted Snape with a smile and walked toward the door, “I forgot some things in my room.”

“Hello Minerva.” Snape said as she walked out.

“Y/L/N.” Snape’s cold greeting made you long to be greeted like Minerva.

“You know you can call me Y/N.” You said with a slight smile.

Snape made a sort of affirmative noise and cleared his throat.

“And if you’re mad at me for not teaching your students to dance I’m not sorry. They are your students, I would be willing to help if you needed it though.” You said without even looking at the man.

He made another grunting noise and sat down and huffed.

“Some of my female students are struggling with dancing, would you come to one of the class and show the dunderheads how to dance properly?” He asked, but it seemed more of a statement rather than a real question.

“Uh, um,” You were completely taken by surprise, “sure. What day?”

“Tomorrow, and please don’t be a stammering idiot.” He said and turned and left.

That man was such a mystery you wondered if you’d ever figure him out.


You couldn’t sleep last night, your brain constantly thinking of how Severus’s hands would feel on your hips if he decided to demonstrate a dance to the children. You dressed quickly and walked down to his room in the dungeons, your stomach in knots and images of what may come in your head.

The door was slightly ajar and you knocked lightly as you didn’t want to anger Severus by interrupting his class.

“Enter.” He said, “Ah, Professor Y/L/N. She is here to help me demonstrate the correct way to dance.”

The students smiled wearily and you took your place in front of them. Snape moved forward and swung his wand and music started to play. He closed the gap between the two of you and lightly put his hand on your hip, in that moment you felt your face go red and you avoided his eyes. He then took your hand in his, his hand was bony and cold. He then began to lead in the dance.

“Alright now you all start.” Snape said not pausing the dance.

“Your hand is cold.” You stated, trying to make yourself feel less embarrassed.

He said nothing.

After a few moments he looked down at you and cleared his throat.

“Will you be attending the ball with anyone?” He asked in almost a whisper, as if he was scared one of the children would hear

“Well one of the students asked me to go with them, but I thought it’d be inappropriate, so no, I will be going alone.” You said in a lighthearted manner .

“Ah.” He paused, “would you like to go with me?” He said unsteadily.

A smile etched itself on your face and you blushed again, “I’d love to, but you have to promise me one thing.” You said.

“That is?” His voice now a little more confident now.

“You have to dance with me at least once, I’ve never been to a ball and want to experience it in full.” You confessed to him.

He nodded but didn’t say anything. He stopped dancing and signaled for the children to do the same. No more than a minute later the dismissal bell rang and the children filed out.

As you began to walk to the door Severus stopped you, “I think I can manage one dance.” He said as if it were a big deal.

Your smile widened, “Wonderful.”


Thinking about writing a part 2, opinions?

You are standing in the midst of a never-ending echo.
Lost sea girls from the chambers of salt have come back calling for their voices.
Their hair chopped short and their eyed dark and stony.

‘Give us back our stolen voices.‘ 
Is what they must say but there is only the circuit of echos. A loud and terrifying sound.

You remember your mother, or father or someone with a voice that was loud and commanding,  warning you to be weary of lost sea girls.

They know far too much.  Your mother, father, the owner of the commanding voice, had told you.  Be weary, they told you.
These lost sea girls had laughed
as the sun had been consumed
by the sea and that the great and devouring snake had arisen from their home.  They say, telling you all the stories.

You did not listen, you never have
 and now you have a horde of lost sea girls, eyes bottomless and dark.

Son of man, the echoes rattle against the cave walls, a great and vicious sound that makes you tremble.
Release our voices and we shall trace your costellations in the cracks of your teeth.
Release our voices and we shall tell you your future.

You do not need them to tell you your future though.

You already know.

—  me

anonymous asked:

Tbh i would pay for a dlc where Ryder flips out when they find out they're the pathfinder, crying, screaming, the works. Stuff is getting thrown around medbay, punches are being thrown, in the end they're curled up next to their coma twin sobbing for them to wake up. Just full blown hysteria because i feel like it's not addressed very well. they're like, "okay i guess I'm the pathfinder and I'm 100% okay about it"

You’re right, I wish the game let you act more reluctant, more upset by being made Pathfinder.

I mean imagine it, your father has just died, your only twin is in a coma. And then you’re suddenly thrown into a leadership role you weren’t trained for, weren’t prepared for, over your fathers second-in-command who is more qualified than you are.

That’s a lot of stress in a short amount of time. No one can just be okay with that.

But we always have headcanons, even without a dlc

anonymous asked:

I was outed (without my consent) to my mum as a trans guy, and during her yelling and lectures she told me that I'm only wanting to be a boy because i have 'problems' with my dad (my dad abused me and my brothers for years). Now I'm worried that she's right, and worried that i'm not really trans and i'm just trying to escape who I was when he abused me. Is that a thing that happens to people? Am I actually trans?

I am sure the abuse you recieved from your father contributed to who you are as you grew up bu I don’t think it made you trans. However, I think the best thing you could do right now is request to see a gender therapist and talk about these issues because they must be addressed. I think it will also open your mom’s eyes to what’s really going on here and that it isn’t just an abusive father, that her son is a trans and that isn’t going to change. No amount of therapy is going to cure you of being trans but perhaps it can help your mother accept this more.


Sigyn to the Gods

Do not fear.

A silly thing to wish, considering who I speak to. The valiant, the just, the brave gods of Asgard. Deities with no concept of terror. Nor of mercy to your foes, whoever and whatever they may be. Still, I say it. Do not fear.

I say this in reminder of the Valkyries, my gods. Those coldest of warriors who lift only the dying and fearless berserkers into Valhalla’s golden hall. It does not matter what such fine warriors did in life so long as their death was an impressive battle. There are as many common fiends and murderers in that hall as there are heroes. The Valkyries are quizzical in that way, yes? So meticulous and loose at once with their bloodied charges.

‘Commit any good deed, commit any crime, sit by and do nothing at all, but fight and die fearlessly,’ is their only decree.

Pardon me, Allfather, it is really your decree, yes? Yours and your father’s and your father’s father’s. The decree goes out so that only the fearless undead shall be your cavalry when that last glorious war descends upon you. To risk having anyone less than unafraid on your side of the battle line would mean risking a loss to her, after all.

Terrible, implacable Hel and her endless coffers of the undead, peopled by those who cringed from her in life, those who wished to live with their families, those who wanted only peace or another minute to squander. She is not picky, is she? Not an ounce as much as the warrior women. No, Hel accepts all.

Yet she is scrupulous with treatment, we know. Calm pastures for good souls and the most unforgiving torments for the wicked.

Considering this, it really is silly for me to say such nonsense as, ‘do not fear.’ It is clear you must not! Not when you so boldly tempt her the way a fisherman would dump his blood in waters full of hungry teeth.

You have tempted her by making yourselves ripe for her agonies. So much so I swear I can hear Helheim’s bowels growling in anticipation.

Or perhaps that is only one of the wolves. There are a great many wolves coming, are there not?

The wolves who shall chase and eat the lights in the sky.

The wolf who is Hel’s pet, starving to rend gods into pieces before he allows himself to be slain and sent back to his mistress.

Ah, and then there are the wolves who are sons.

One son born a wolf, so large he erases the sky, his head so fearsome that when he opens his jaw they scrape earth and clouds at once. It is a horror to imagine how many he shall crush underfoot. How many victims shall disappear, conscious and screaming, down his gullet when he first inhales to let out a howl. All the ears that shall run bloody and deaf and useless at the sound of his barking. And, oh, a less stout body would quiver to think of what agony it will be to be minced between those teeth which are long as trees and sharp as hate.

Another son was born a boy—fleet and handsome and possessed of his father’s grin—made into a wolf by some foul heap of living offal, sent into madness and flung at his own twin so that the reluctant hound tore out the boy’s entrails. Before the pup could even mourn his mistake his brains were dashed out. They wait to join the rest when Helheim gives up her wrathful dead, the little wolf and his victim.

Yet wolves are the least of the things to come, yes? There are serpents to deal with too.

One serpent is a son as well, vaster and longer than his brother wolf, his stomach endless, his venom a melting torment even to breathe. I’d not be surprised if he slew thrice as many as his elder brother. By venom if they’re lucky. Otherwise they have an eternity to look forward to in that crushing belly that goes on for eternity beneath his scales, lost in that stinking dark, still alive, clawing, praying the Valkyries can hear them, that they will ignore the piss in their armor, the animal dread in their hearts.

The other serpent is so very feeble by comparison! Nothing more than a prisoner, a mere slip of a snake forced to drip its venom upon its fellow inmate. Yet each drop which meets the eyes of that forsaken wretch will make him spasm and each spasm will bring his tethers—tethers so cunningly made from the ribbons of his son’s organs—to the point of the impossible: the Norns have predicted as much, haven’t they, Allfather? That his bonds, as impervious as the ones which hold the sons who are wolf and serpent, shall break in a fraction of the time. How strange!

Such a wispy fey god was this prisoner when you knew him, my gods. So he let you see. Yet it took a full hunting party of your strongest members to bind him. Those canny tethers are fraying already. You did not guess such a svelte and preening creature to possess strength, did you? Nor the capacity for rage?

Had you ever noticed, my gods, when the prisoner was among you that he showed no anger? Annoyance, yes, theatric winces, yes, and more than once he was keen to see certain wounds repaid in cutting japes. But you never once saw him angry. You thought him incapable. And why shouldn’t you have? Your violence was never countered with violence. Despite the power he masked from you not one of you were cut down with a mean thought; and Allfather, you and he know quite keenly how even your powers are.

But no. Much as his trickery was repaid in scorn and injury, he did not bite. It was an easy thing to assume, my gods, I know. Here was a cunning god, but one with no belly for rage like a true warrior.

Well. Mostly.

Perhaps it is best you ask after that troll who menaced the little boy on Midgard. Perhaps you should ask any fool who has disappeared so quick and quiet after the prisoner heard them bring pain upon a child. You’d be able to if only they were not all shrieking their lament in Helheim.

That is what moves one such as him to anger, my gods. Ill deeds flung upon children. Kick him and spit on him and stitch his lips all you like. But to harm a hair upon a child is to set your own grisly end in motion. Really, Frigg, it is a wonder you two had not bonded!

You showed such dear care for your sons—pardon, fair Frigg, your son. You did only bother to give Baldr’s name to the Nine Realms for protection. Only Baldr’s name spoken in a plea with unyielding Hel. ‘Weep for Baldr, World Tree!’ Was there another son you lost, Frigg? Not so brilliant, but more blind? Whatever was his name? How was it that he died, my gods? Ah, but I am sure it is not important. The better brother was mourned, at least. That is what matters.

You showed love for your boy by seeking to shield him. When he was slain you sought to retrieve him from the afterlife’s grip. And when he could not be won back you flung fresh and bottomless despair upon his slayer. The wretched prisoner who has had one set of children stolen, two slain, and his wife, oh, his poor wife…

Why look upon me, my gods?

I refer to the wife whose very name was Misery, for Fate knew what was to become of her and her family. A wife to the prisoner, mother to her irregular children, slain for the crime of defending them and her home. She waits in Helheim too, sheltered by the corpse-daughter who is queen and goddess of the dead. Mother and daughter, Misery and Death.

Think you otherwise, my gods, that it was the loss of her and the family they built that spurred the prisoner—the one you called coward, snake, a prancing, spineless gnat—to slay good Baldr? The son it would hurt you most to lose? The god of justice who himself was sickened by the punishments you unloaded upon the prisoner for tricks that were and were not his? The good god, the decent god, who was alone with me in smiling in earnest at the prisoner? The god which no realm, least of all yours, deserved?

Why seek out the mistletoe to slay him rather than any other? Why not you, Allfather, powerful yet unshielded, banisher of his daughter? Why not you, Thor, who have been happy to drag him by the neck and take an awl to his face, to fish for and menace his serpent son? Why not you, Tyr, who bound his son, the born-wolf? Why slay gentle Baldr and risk the full wrath of you brave Æsir, you murderers of wives and mothers, you who have caged and slaughtered children, you who imprison a god in torture for daring to drop his mantle as the God of Lies and letting spill all the secret truths you had prayed no one knew?

For his family, my gods. The family that may never have given you a thought had you not sinned so grievously against them. And against the family which succeeded them.

You see it now, do you not? Every time you gaze upon your enchanted locks, golden Sif. Each time you feel the weight of Mjolnir in your hands, Thor. When Gungnir sweats in your fist, Allfather. As Sleipnir gallops, as the wall looms high and impressive around Asgard’s precious grounds, as Idunn’s apples continue to shine in their orchard, as vengeful Skadi sits complacent, as you sit and you finally, finally think of all the prizes so cheaply won by the creature you have regarded with no more thought than a ragged dog begging scraps, you will come to realize how very truly courageous you must be, and all the time unaware!

For Death loves all her family and her father most of all. And she is quick, my gods. So terribly quick. Far less idle and finicky than those Valkyries who deign only to touch those without the faintest grain of horror in their breast.

So when that last war comes and the monsters you have trained to hate and mutilate you come to call, I do pray that you’ll be brave. That you will not even entertain the idea that the Valkyries will pass you by. Surely they wouldn’t, would they? Of course not. Probably not. Hopefully not. Because the alternative, well…

Let us only say that there are spaces reserved for you, my gods. Dark spaces were eager hosts wait to replay every injury you ever dealt upon your own spectral flesh and soul. The boiling of eyes, the tearing of lips, the massacre of lovers and children who plead with you, please, please save them, always unable, a pain to refresh over and over without end.

Or so I hear. One picks up the most frightful gossip in lightless caverns.

Ah, did you feel that tremor? He shakes even more than Midgard nowadays, doesn’t he? The dish must have toppled from his brow where he had me leave it. Well, I see I must leave you now, my gods. Truly I must hurry. If he thrashes any harder my son’s intestines shall be no thicker than a hair! But I am certain that shall be enough to hold him. For now.

Eat well, my gods. Be merry. Treasure every living second left to you. And remember: do not fear.

Do not dare.

anonymous asked:

"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!" John exclaims when Sherlock shows up in 221b after weeks away with not even a note. "Did I not tell you Mycroft and I were going on a two week river cruise with our parents and that we'd be unreachable?" Sherlock frowns. "NO!" John shouts and smacks his flatmate with the newspaper, "AND HOW DARE YOU NOT INVITE ME!" "It was a family trip," Sherlock replies. "ACCORDING TO YOUR MOTHER, FATHER & BROTHER I AM FAMILY!" John shouts. "Then why aren't we married?" "Good question."

Yes exactly!


Mickey: Do you really think you can talk back to me like that, Maddox? I’m your father, and I know what’s best for you! You’re fifteen, what the hell do you know! You’re not to see that boy! You’re not to leave the house unless it’s for school or your piano lessons! And Noah’s going to keep a damn close eye on your ass!

Maddox: ….