#Not even the best bluff she made in game | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thebestofoneshots · 6 months ago

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Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 8.7 K Warnings: MAJOR ANGST / I’m about to angst you with an angst that you’ve never been angst with before. Prompt: Vixen believes she's in the middle, and she hates the idea of stopping any of her boys from being happy. This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it

Chapter 53: Too Much Love Will KiII You

How would it be if you were standing in my shoes? Can't you see that it's impossible to choose No, there's no making sense of it Every way I go I'm bound to lose

The day went by as you’d expect. James didn’t take long to also walk upstairs and join the three of you in a poker game that Remus had taught you how to play. Cards weren’t that big in the wizarding world, especially not poker because of how easy they were to enchant and how hard they were to charmproof. But Remus had managed to charm his deck with a spell so riddled, it would take more time than the one you had in one game to actually crack it.

Besides, neither you nor did any of the boys want to cheat. Not when poker was so godric damned entertaining, and certainly not with how fun it was to see Sirius lose to you, James and Remus all the time. He couldn’t bluff, even if he wanted to.

It’s not that Sirius was a bad liar per se, in fact, if he played against anyone other than you three (even against Peter who had always been a little absent-minded) he would have easily tricked them, unfortunately for him, his two best friends and his girlfriend were too good at uncovering his inner intentions.

It was in the little twitch of an eye, in the way he put effort into trying to maintain a straight face, in the way he would look you in the eye or avoid it.

“Raise,” Sirius said and placed another sickle into the money cauldron you had placed on the bed. The four of you were sitting. James had pulled out a chair, Sirius was sitting by Remus and you were on the other side of the bed, where you made sure no one could see your cards.

You gave Remus a look, he shook his head. “I fold,” you said.

“Me too,” James agreed, he hadn’t seen Remus and your interaction, Sirius’ face had been enough, he could almost smell the confidence oozing from his friend.

Sirius smiled as he brought down his cards, three Aces. It had been a brilliant move to call it, Remus had called earlier, since he’d gotten a meagre pair of threes, and you had two jacks, but there was nothing on the table to help you besides that.

Sirius smiled and brought the money to his side, letting the little bronze coins twinkle and be a mess in his lap while Remus sighted. His and yours were neatly accommodated in stacks. “‘Nother round?” James asked as he munched on some popcorn that Mellie had brought. You had some chocolate on your lap and you opened the package.

“Mhm,” you agreed, you were about to give a bite to your chocolate when Sirius leaned over Remus’ legs and beat you to it, “Oi!”

He turned to you with a pair of puppy eyes and a little pout. You sighed in disbelief and then he leaned over and pressed a short kiss to your lips before he pulled back. You were startled by his sudden action, and your eyes almost instantly turned to Remus, whose gaze was fixated on Sirius as he munched on the rest of the chocolate and picked up the cards to shuffle them.

You swallowed, you hated the butterflies in your stomach because no matter how delighted Sirius’ kisses made you feel, you knew they were making your best friend upset. You bit your lip as you looked at them both, at the way Remus attentively looked at Sirius’s hands. It was easy to justify such a stare, he wanted to make sure Sirius wouldn’t cheat, but you knew the real reason behind it. Sirius had nice hands, you had stared at his hands before, and damn he was dexterous with them.

“You’re doing it wrong,” James said, and took the cards from Sirius’ hands, Remus broke his stare and looked up almost nervously, meeting yours, you offered him a soft smile and turned to James who had made a mess of the cards. You bit your lip trying not to smile and picked Sirius’ wand from the side, waving it over the mess, the cards floated and then neatly arranged themselves on a stack.

“Thanks, Vix,” he said, taking them in his hands before he proceeded to shuffle them. Once he was satisfied enough with the shuffling, he started to deal. You got a card first, then Sirius, he handed one to Remus and then he pressed one over his lap.

By the time James finished dealing the cards, you had already taken a look at your stack, and it took a great deal of effort not to let your eyes shine when he placed the first card from the stack onto the table. Good game.

This one drew out for longer, either everyone else had a great stack, or they were bluffing, so you had to pay attention to them, James seemed slightly nervous when you raised for the third time, and he swallowed before placing money on the cauldron. Remus looked confident, but you’d recently gotten a lot better at reading him, and you didn’t think he actually had a great game.

As for Sirius, the three of you already knew he was bluffing, which is why perhaps the two other boys were still raising you. Sirius had an overly confident smile on his face, but he had not stopped tapping his finger over his knee since James placed the second card on the table. You thought it was adorable that he hadn’t quite realised what he was doing yet either.

“Raise,” you said.

Sirius placed more money on the centre along with Remus and you. James called at that point, not revealing his game yet, but placing his cards on the bed with a rather defeated air as he grabbed a fist of popcorn and brought it to his face.

Remus raised along with you. Sirius threw a nervous look at you, taking in your confident stance and taking in a deep breath. “Raise,” he said, a challenging look on his face.

You placed a couple more coins in the centre without much thought. Remus did the same, enjoying the tension between you and Sirius. You were eyeing each other in such a solemn manner that it was hard for him to hold back a laugh. Even if he lost, it didn’t matter at this point, he just loved your little concentrated faces.

“All or nothing?” Sirius said as he swallowed.

“Sure,” you said.

“Vixen that’s–” James said when he realised what you were about to do, he wasn’t sure Sirius was bluffing anymore. But you were.

“Shhh, you’re out of it, Prongs,” Remus said as he too pushed his stash onto the table.

James tilted his head to the side and looked at the three of you nervously. “Well then, show your cards,” he urged.

You took yours but then Sirius stopped both you and Remus by placing his hands on your arms. Remus gave his hand a look and you turned to him with a frown “I raise again.”

“You can’t raise again, all the money is in the pot,” you said matter of factly. “Well, the cauldron,” you added as you pointed at the pile.

“Never said I’d raise with money, Étoile,” he responded. Sirius was in the deep end. He had a pair of fours and a bunch of other useless cards. He had to get you to fold somehow. “Whoever loses, stays shirtless for the rest of the day.”

“I can’t really take off my bandages,” Remus said as he threw Sirius a look.

“Fold then,” Sirius answered with a satisfied smile.

“Twat,” he responded and threw his cards into the bed. “You don’t have to comply with it, Luv. Sirius is desperate.”

“You’re out of it, Moons,” Sirius retorted and turned to you with a daring look.

“Shirtless, the rest of the day?”

“You’re more than welcome to fold if you don’t believe in your hand, that is.”

“Sirius I don’t think–” James started but Sirius threw him a look.

“Fine,” you smiled. “Whoever loses has to stay shirtless.”

Remus groaned and covered his face with his eyes. He knew Sirius was bluffing, but he wasn’t sure if you were bluffing too, and he had seen Sirius shirtless plenty of times, he wasn’t sure he was ready to see you shirtless though. “Little Witch, can you never back down from a fight?”

“Nope,” you said with a smile. “I’m confident in this one.”

“Yeah, well me too. I raise you again–”

“Shut up Sirius and show your cards now, she’s not going to fold and I don’t need people walking naked in my house,” Prongs said.

Time for showdown, you thought as you looked at Sirius and placed your cards on the table. He knew he was doomed the minute he spotted your king, a perfect match for the one on the bed, not to mention the three queens beside him.

“Fuck,” he said as he left his card on the bed too. “I thought you were trying to bluff.”

“Vix is cunning, but no one in her right mind would have accepted your stupid raise if they didn’t know they were gonna win,” James said.

Sirius sighed and took off his shirt and threw it your way, you had also seen him shirtless a couple of times, and you’d be lying if you said he didn’t look good, even if he was thinner than both James and Remus. You pulled his shirt from your face and smiled when you realised it was the Bowie shirt he liked to wear all the time.

Sirius placed both of his arms around his torso, the chill of the open window was enough to make him shiver, you took the cauldron with money and placed its contents into your front pocket, you hadn’t thought just how useful the overalls would be when you bought them.

“I’m keeping this one,” you said as you motioned to his shirt, he gaped at you.

“That wasn’t the deal!”

“Was it him or me the one that decided to put clothes into the pot?” you asked, turning to the two other boys as you did.

“I think it was Padfoot, wasn’t it?” Prongs teased.

“I’m most definitely sure it was him,” Remus agreed with a smile. Sirius groaned in response.

“I’m not a petty winner,” you said as you untied the jumper you’d been wearing from around your shoulders and threw it his way. “Take this, we don’t want you to freeze.

Remus tried not to laugh at the face Sirius made when he caught the jumper and held back a smile when Sirius put on his jumper. Sirius didn’t steal his jumpers as often as you did, he always had his jacket around, and Remus would be lying if he said seeing Sirius wearing his clothes didn’t make him feel stuff.

“Doesn’t look bad on you,” you teased.

“Doesn’t smell as bad as I thought it would,” he retorted. “You’ve been wearing it for days.”

You gasped at that and pushed him lightly. Remus turned to pick up his deck while you and Sirius continued to bicker and really tried not to eye Sirius again.

Sunday, January 9th, 1977

Remus had stayed on the bed and both you and Sirius had turned into your animagus so you could fit alongside him, it was undoubtedly comfortable, almost like things were settling back into normal. But of course, they were not normal, and they couldn’t be. Not after everything that had happened. Not now that you knew things that you weren’t supposed to know.

You had woken up at some point during the night, and you tried to ignore the pang in your heart when you noticed Sirius had turned back during the night again, and he was nuzzling into Remus’ shoulder in the same way you sometimes nuzzled into yours. You weren’t sure he looked nearly as comfortable in your arms as he did in his.

You stared at the two of them for a minute before you turned your head and wrapped your tail around yourself. Trying to find comfort in its fluffy embrace, as you swallowed. You really had been too blind, it had been there all the time. You’d taken pictures of it, you’d thought it was funny and adorable, you teased Sirius for it for fucks sake, how did you not see it before?

It had always been right in front of your eyes. You weren’t sure you had ever felt more stupid. Remus was asleep, but he somehow sensed your stirring on the bed and instantly placed his hand over your back, gently brushing his fingers over your fur, like he had done so many times during those nights when you could barely sleep back in his parent’s cottage.

He was the best friend you’d ever had, and here you were, making him miserable, making both him and your boyfriend miserable. Feeling terrible over it, you jumped down from the bed and allowed yourself to lay close to the fire. Trying not to think how nice it had been that one time when Remus had walked right beside you and wrapped the two of you with the covers. You really didn’t deserve him, you didn’t deserve to cry on his lap, not when you were the main cause of his heartache. Not when you were the one impeding his love to come into fruition.

Perhaps you really were as terrible as you had said yourself to be back then when you could only think about what you’d done at the Christmas Party. Remus had convinced you otherwise, but he was probably wrong. It had all been your fault, and your mother was dеad and the person you’d tried to save hadn’t even made it out alive. You really had made everything worse, and perhaps you were doing that here too.

Perhaps that was something inherent to you, something that you couldn’t shake out. Perhaps you just carried misery with you in the same way James carried fun, Sirius carried love and Remus carried comfort. Maybe you had been cursed and you didn’t know about it, maybe it was the fae blood, cursed for mixing with wizards.

“Hey, what’s up?” James asked as he sat beside you.

You turned to him surprised, turning into your human form as you looked at him startled. “Did I wake you?”

“No, I was going to the bathroom, saw a little fox moping the corner.”

“Not moping,” you said with a frown. “It was cold.”

“And I’m as brilliant at potions as Dad,” he responded sarcastically. Then pushed you slightly with his shoulder. “Is it about Christmas? Do you wanna talk about that?”

You sighed, “It’s not,” you said honestly. “Not entirely at least.”

“Then?”

“James, if you loved two people, and you knew they loved each other, would you step out of the way and let them be happy without you?”

“What kind of question is that?” he asked with a frown.

“Just something I read in a book,” you lied.

James turned to you as if assessing you, but he couldn’t tell what was going on in your head, you just looked at the fire, and then leaned your head on your knee as you turned to him, “So?”

“Do you really think those two people would be happier if they were together?”

“I don’t know,” you replied. “But the main character knows they could never test their love if they’re in the middle.”

“Well, I guess I’d leave. Wouldn’t you?”

“Even if you love one of them?”

“Didn’t you say it was both?” James asked, confused.

“I mean– yeah. Just not the same kind of love, I guess.”

“What kind of book are you reading?” James asked with a frown.

You tried not to panic, “It’s a muggle book, Russian, and very cheesy, you wouldn’t like it.”

“What did the main character do?”

“Haven’t read that part yet.”

“Well, I think he should do the right thing, don’t you?”

“Probably,” you said as you let out a long sigh. James was now bouncing his leg right next to you. “Weren’t you going to the bathroom?”

“Yeah,” he said as he stood up. “Just wanted to check up on you, I’m glad you’re upset over a book and not something else.”

“Yeah,” you said with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes, perhaps if there had been more light, and James wasn’t as blind as a Wilddeoren without his glasses he would have noticed. “I guess I got really invested.”

Finally, he left towards the bathroom, you turned back into Vixen and returned to the bed, staying near the side rather than climbing back onto Remus’ chest.

When you woke up again, Sirius was looking at you with a smile. “Ready for the party?”

“Isn’t that in a couple of hours?” you asked.

“But it’s going to be so much fun! Monty said we could raid his alcohol stash as long as Effie didn’t notice.”

You smiled, if James was as much of a troublemaker as he was, it was because both Monty and Effie took turns to allow him to do stuff without the other noticing. He’d learned how to fly when he was five behind Monty’s back, and he’d been allowed to drink since he turned 14, behind Effie’s.

“How nice of him,” you replied. “What’s for breakfast?”

“I think he's preparing some pancakes for us. James and Remus are helping.”

“James is helping?”

“He’s good, you’d be surprised,” Sirius said with a laugh. His teeth gleamed as the beam of sun from the window fell on his face. You allowed your head to rest on the pillow as you looked at him. He was stupidly pretty. You were about to lean closer to him when Picksie approached a few feet behind Sirius.

“Master Fleamont says the food is ready,” She said with her squeaky little voice.

It was hard not to laugh at the face Sirius made, he knew he was getting a kiss before she appeared, but after a defeated sigh he stood up and extended his hand for you to take, “You’re coming, Étoile?”

The hours flew by a lot faster than you expected. James was absolutely thrilled about Lily coming over to his house for the first time and he didn’t shut up about it all through breakfast. Effie seemed keenly interested in meeting the girl –officially– and Monty was a little worried as a dad who had utter confidence in his child.

You were all sitting in the living room, already changed into party clothes, that being a simple skirt, the shirt you’d won at poker (to rub it on Sirius), and a jumper Moony had thrown your way when he saw it was snowing again. Remus and Sirius were playing magic chess while you read a book and James had dozed off on the couch just next to you –he’d been trying to read a book to impress Lily and it wasn’t going that well.

Sirius was looking at Remus as he made his next move, the taller boy had both of his arms folded over his chest and was biting his lip as he drew all the scenarios in his head. There was a softness in his gaze that you hadn’t noticed before, something akin to admiration, but so much more than that. He realised you were staring and he shot you a wink.

“Horse F5,” Remus said, and his horse moved to break one of Sirius’ pawns into pieces.

“Were you just waiting for me to get distracted?” Sirius scoffed.

“Well, it’s not my fault you were looking at Vixen while I decided to make a move,” Remus responded with a shit-eating grin. He had, indeed, been waiting.

“Jerk,” Sirius complained and turned back to the chessboard. His tower was just a few blocks from the horse and he could destroy him, but Remus had made sure to move his horse near one of his pawns. If Sirius took revenge, he would lose his tower as well, and this time he’d be losing to a pawn. He huffed and made a different move.

You looked at the two of them after that, just paying attention to the way they played, at just how comfortable they seemed to be around each other. You hated it, not how happy they were, that was delightful, it filled your heart with joy to see them smiling and joking around.

Both of them –although one had a loud personality– had a gloomy atmosphere that they seemed to carry along at all times. While Remus tended to be quiet and reserved, and Sirius played jokes to mask his feelings, both of them had a sort of dolefulness deeply embedded within them. You’d seen it when you looked at them in the halls and when they had been apart from the rest of their friends for a while.

You noticed when they were around James it lifted, and how could it not? James’ personality was warm and welcoming enough to melt even the most frozen of people, but even that, was nothing compared to what you were seeing just now. The way they joked, the way they talked, it was absolutely fascinating how much they cared for each other.

And then there was you, you made them happy too, you weren’t stupid enough not to notice, but it was when they were both together that that dolefulness seemed to lift almost completely from their shoulder as if it never had been there in the first place as if there had never been a tragic backstory burdening their minds.

What you were too stupid to see back then, was that whenever you saw that, the magic that seemed to be almost buzzing through both boys as they chatted and joked together was that even though they were interacting with one another, you were also in the room.

John Berger once said, "Every spectator is a participant”. And really, without your participation in such scenes, the result wouldn’t have been the same. The perfect atmosphere that you seemed to admire so much, the peak of mood that made your heart ache for their longing for each other, was only there because you were there too.

But with the thoughts clouding your mind, with the things that had happened in Christmas and with the self-loathing that you couldn’t shake no matter what you tried, no matter how many people called you brave, you were far from seeing the truth. Too wrapped up in your inner turmoil, in your own struggle to think of yourself as anything other than chaos, that you were far closer to worrying yourself to dеath with despair than from seeing the truth so clearly displayed behind the dull fabric of self-hatred you’d placed over yourself.

You thought you were so smart, and yet you were about to make a move more stupid than the King to C6 that had gotten Sirius straight into the checkmate Moony had been cornering him into the entire game.

The bell rang, snapping you out of your thoughts, you turned your face towards the door and left the glass you had in your hand near the table where Remus and Sirius had been playing wizard’s chess. James had dozed off on the couch and rather than waking him up, you thought of attending the door yourself.

Marlene was on the other side of the door, hair shorter than it had been before, and a huge smile on her face when you were the first thing she saw. She rushed to hug you. “I’m so happy to see you’re here,” she said with a sigh. “You know I’m on your side, right? Always.”

“Have they been talking about me on the papers?” you asked, not wanting to hear the answer, but asking anyway.

“Your father talked to the press,” she breathed, “he said you… he said you ran away from home after your mother passed and he said he was looking for you and hoping you came back home soon. That’s what your mother would have wanted. It also sounded a bit like you had been partly to blame for the fire.”

You held back a sad scoff. He wasn’t saying anything that wasn’t true. Except he had omitted the fact he had tortured her, and forced you to find a distraction. “Of course, he would,” you sighed. “At least Dumbledore knows what actually happened.”

“You– trust him?”

“He might not have whatever happens to us in his best interest, Marlene. I know he cares about stopping them more than anything. But… we’re fighting for the same cause… and I think he cares, even if it’s just a little.”

“The war…”

You sighed and then shook your head, replacing the strained expression you had with a smile. “But that’s not why we’re here. We’re celebrating a new year and we’re not going to dwell on the sad stuff, now while we’re together.”

Marlene seemed hesitant about your quick change, but upon realising it was your only way of coping, she nodded and mirrored your reaction. The moment she walked into the room she went straight to wake James up and told him off –jokingly– about being a terrible host and letting his guests do all the hosting for him.

Poor James looked so confused the minute Marlene showed up that he stood up and got everyone snacks and something to drink. Slowly but surely the house started to fill up with your friends. Mary and Lily came together since Effie had gone to get them so they could all apparate back in the house, Tom arrived by Floo and Beth rode a broom since she didn’t leave too far from the Potters.

It really was more of a small gathering than a party, only the close group of Gryffindors had been invited since James’ parents were still hesitant about the entire thing getting too big and accidentally ending up with dеatheaters at their doorstep. But it was perfect, nonetheless. Seeing your friends was lifting up your spirits.

Lily had gone straight to hug you when she arrived and the boys wouldn’t stop teasing James about it, he was clever enough to retort Sirius’ comments by reminding him that you had once said you were into redheads and he was the one that should be worried.

“If we start dating, you can just date each other,” Lily added to the joke to which James made the face of someone who was actually considering it and Sirius made one disgusted.

“That would be like dating Regulus,” James said and got shoved by Sirius who said something about being more handsome than his brother.

Still, you didn’t miss the way Sirius’ gaze flickered, looking for Remus who was talking to Mary in one of the corners. You took a deep breath after that and thought –stupidly– the only solution to the thoughts currently tormenting you, would be alcohol. You walked towards the improv drink section they had created and poured yourself some of the ice vodka James had snatched from Monty’s stash. He’d charmed the flask so he could fill an entire bottle inside and gave it to you when Lily asked him to dance.

You debated on whether to add anything else and decided against it, although it tasted fantastic with Mellie’s lemon juice (you had tried it last night when the boys convinced you and Remus to play Monopoly again but this time wasted so they had a better chance of winning– Remus won anyway). But you wanted the punch the drink would give you more than the taste. You downed the glass like a shot and served yourself another bit, this time actually adding the Lemon Juice.

“How come you’re not all over Sirius?” Tom asked as he approached you. “He looks incredible today.”

You huffed in response, taking another sip of your cup, and mumbling a short “I know.” The problem was, Remus knew too. You had seen him gaze at him more times than you could count. He had gazed at you too, the skirt you chose to wear not helping him with his rather active imagination, so instead he tried to look anywhere else. He did not want to be a perv, let alone be caught checking his best friend’s girlfriend out.

“You okay?” he asked, confused.

“Yeah, yeah,” you responded with a sigh. “I’ve been thinking too much, I think.”

“Want something to think less?” he asked as he took out a small flask from his front pocket. Not big enough for alcohol, but certainly big enough for a good potion.

What a terrible idea that was. “What is it?”

“New creation, been working on it over the break. Kind of like the potion at Halloween but with a few tweaks here and there.”

“Is it good?”

“Haven’t tried it yet… So, you want it?”

You had a mission, you had to figure out what to do, not that you wanted to have that mission, and not that you wanted to figure it out either, every choice seemed like the wrong one, every turn and you’d hurt someone (yourself included). You were tired, you just wanted things to be like before… before you knew.

Selfish, a small voice in your head shouted, that’s selfish.

“If you knew two people were in love, and you were in the middle of it. But these are two people who are basically made for each other, and they’ve known the other for longer than they’ve known you, would you step out of the way?” You asked him, eerily similar to what you’d asked James in the middle of the night. Perhaps more perspective could help you.

Tom pulled the flask back into his pocket and gave you a confused look. “What are you talking about?”

“Nothing,” you lied, snapping out of it. “A book I was reading… The potion?”

He placed his hand on his pocket, then on his back pockets. “Sorry, Slysprite, I must have misplaced it.”

“I really could have used some of it,” you added with a laugh. And that was exactly why there was no way in hell Tom would give it to you, he was tempted to take the beverage from your hands as well, but he was half scared of what an angry you would do, so decided to leave that to someone who was way closer.

“I think Remus is looking for you,” Tom said as he pushed you towards him and left you on the sofa next to the boy. “Mary, darling, care to dance?”

She smiled and grabbed Tom’s hand, leaving you and Remus alone. Sirius was off playing potion pong with Marlene, although they hadn’t actually used any potions and were using booze instead.

You let your head fall on the back of the sofa, sliding a few inches down and sighing. Remus leaned over your frame to give you a better look while ignoring your skirt and how much it had ridden up. “Are you okay?” he asked, concern laced in his tone. He grabbed the cup from your hands and brought it to his nose, smelling the contents before wincing. It was more vodka than lemon juice. “How many of these have you had so far?”

“Not that many,” you replied, which wasn’t a lie. “I’m not drunk.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said simply. “You’re… upset. Is it the party? You want to leave?”

“No, not at all,” you said. “I love seeing everyone happy. Did you see Prongs and Lily? I’m pretty sure he strategically placed mistletoe all over the doors so he could steal as many kisses from her as possible. She seems as delighted as he is.”

Then why do you look upset? Remus thought, not wanting to ask yet.

“You sure?” he asked as he poked your cheek.

You opened your eyes, first just a little and then you focused on him. He looked concerned, very concerned, you could tell he cared about you an insane amount. It made the guilt even stronger, here he was, so concerned over you and your pain while you were constantly causing him heartache. Both of them had to steer away from the other because of you.

You smiled. “You know I’d go to the ends of the earth for you, right?” you said as you placed a hand on his cheek, brushing one of his scars with your thumb and holding him in place when he was taken aback by your words.

“What?”

“I want you to be happy too.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked as he took your hand from his cheek and held it in his, a frown etched on his beautiful features. Even now, you were causing him pain.

“Nothing,” you said. “I know… I know what’s making you so upset, I’ll stop that.”

“What?!” Remus asked, a hint of panic in his voice that brought you back to reality, away from his hypnotising brown eyes and puppy-like gaze, you didn’t blame Sirius, you couldn’t blame him. In the same way, you couldn’t blame Remus.

“Nothing,” you repeated, this time more dismissively than before, “I must have had too much to drink… you want some?” you added as you looked for the glass that was now on the table, took it in your hands and offered it to him.

Remus frowned and took the glass from your hands. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Hmm?” you asked, turning back to him, Sirius had been looking at the both of you with interest. You would have to talk to him. “Yeah, totally. You know Tom made a new potion.”

Remus sighed when he heard that. Now things made sense. You weren’t lying. You knew Remus could sometimes smell a lie of yours from miles away, so you decided to tell the truth. Tom had made a new potion, you never said you had drunk it.

“I’ll get you some water,” Remus said as he stood up and walked towards the kitchen.

Sirius was already there, looking through James’ secret snack stash to find something salty, he was really craving something salty. “Is she okay?” he asked.

“She drank something Tom made,” Remus said simply. “I think she’s okay, just saying some weird stuff.”

“Like what?” Sirius quipped curiously.

“Some nonsense about making me happy,” Remus responded, he’d taken a glass from the cupboard and was now filling it on the sink.

“Mhm?” Sirius asked as he pulled a bag of fizzing whizbees and turned to Remus. “Maybe she’s just thankful for everything that you’ve done for her lately, wants to make it up to you.”

“There’s nothing to make up for,” Remus said simply and caught the small ball Sirius had thrown his way with his left. “What’s with this?”

“You look like you need some candy,” Sirius said as he took a step closer to Remus. “You’re kind of pale.” Sirius was now so close to Remus he could see the freckles that hid beneath his scars. “Maybe you should eat a bit more.”

Remus took a step back. What was with you and Sirius? Both seemed to have this unworldly desire to touch him today, he could barely find a way to run away.

“I’m perfectly fine,” Remus said and plopped the fizzing whizbee on his mouth, he started floating shortly after. “Fucking hell.” It was more of an exasperated curse than anything else.

Sirius laughed, reached for Remus’ hand and pulled him down. Ignoring entirely how well it felt to have Remus’ hand in his. “Didn’t think you’d eat it,” he said with a short shrug, still not letting go of Remus’ hand.

“Maybe you should talk to her instead,” he said, turning back to the sofa, but you weren’t there anymore. He frowned.

“Care to share?” you asked. Remus turned to you with a mortified expression and snapped his hand away from Sirius, floating back up for a second, until he coughed a couple of times and went back down.

Sirius looked at Remus diverted, and smiled even further when he handed the glass of water to Sirius and excused himself by saying he needed to go to the bathroom. You looked at Sirius, at the way his eyes trailed behind Remus before fixating on you. He had never looked at James like that. He had never looked at any of his other friends like that. In fact, you might dare say, the only person he had ever given than look, was you.

He then walked towards you, there was a table in between the two, but he extended his hand with a small red ball towards you.

We should talk, you thought as you took what he offered.

Rather than taking the candy to your mouth, you placed it on the table and turned back to look at Sirius. He was as beautiful as always. Long lashes, stunning grey eyes, hair curling around his face in that angelic and yet somehow devilish look he had going on.

His gaze was as lost on you as yours was on him, but while his thoughts were filled with you, yours were filled with suspicion of the feelings you knew he harboured for someone else. You rounded the table to walk right in front of him and took the glass of water from his hands before bringing it to your lips. You took a long and gentle sip before pulling it down again and looking at Sirius.

“You like him, don’t you?” you said, voice steady, somehow steadier than you’d thought you’d manage.

“What!?” Sirius asked, confused. There was a hint of panic in his voice as if he knew he’d been found out but was trying to hide it anyway.

“Remus,” you said simply, as if it were the most natural thing ever –it was.

You saw him tense, and you smiled, reassuringly in return. “It’s in your gaze, Sirius. You look at him the same way you looked at me when we met. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?”

He placed both hands on your arms, shaking you to look at him instead of the door. Desperate, Sirius was desperate. “But I don’t love you any less.”

You smiled, a sad sort of smile that Sirius hated to see on your face. But he hated himself more for hurting you, for making you feel like you were not enough, for allowing you to see how desperate he was for love that even when he had it, he craved more of it.

“I’m sure you don’t,” you said, placing your hand on his cheek. He leaned into it instantly. Like he did all the time. Almost brushing his head onto your hand. There was a conflicted frown on his soft features, tears threatening to form. “Hey,” you said simply, he leaned his head onto your shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have… I should have been better at hiding it, you must think I’m the worst person in the entire universe.”

“Of course not,” you said as you scratched his scalp the way you knew would calm him. “You just fell in love.”

“With my straight best friend,” he said. “Just…” he sniffed. “I’m sure I’ll get over it. It might just be my way of discovering I’m like you and Tom.”

“Bisexual?” you offered.

“Yes, that,” Sirius didn’t dare to say the word. “I’m sure Moony’s just an outlet, I can’t be in love with him, I love you.”

You swallowed, he wasn’t making it any easier. You really didn’t want to do it, you hated the idea of losing him, but he deserved to be happy, they both did. “He’s not straight.”

“What?” he asked.

“He’s not straight,” you repeated. “Remus, he… he likes boys too.”

Sirius pulled his head from your hand and looked at you with the most bewildered expression you had seen on him, “What?”

“More specifically, he likes you.”

“No,” he said as he shook his head. You nodded in response. “What about Alice?”

“He started going out with her after Halloween, remember? What exactly were you doing on Halloween?”

“I was dancing with you and–” it seemed like Sirius had seen things from the outside for the first time ever. “Merlin! He did it because I was– Because I was with you.”

“And your sudden urge for kisses?” You added, your eyes were watery, you had to take deep breaths to hold the tears back, to stay calm. You’d analysed most of your interactions together by now, everything you remembered. Sirius had liked Remus for far longer than he’d even realised he had.

“No, that wasn’t the reason. I wanted to kiss you.”

“I’m certain you did,” you said with a smile. It was that same sad smile you had been prompting since the start of the conversation.

“Look at me,” Sirius said as he shook your shoulders again. “I love you. I love you and you need to understand that. I’m not going to leave you for him. No matter how incredible he might be. No matter if he likes me. I love you.”

And you knew he would. But it wouldn’t be worth it, it wouldn’t be fair for any of you. You’d told Remus you would do anything for him. He had saved your life, he had cared for you when you were hurt, and he would have gone to the ends of the earth to make you smile. How could you pay him back if you tied Sirius down to you? When you tied him down knowing he liked Remus too?

“I know,” you said reassuringly. And you did, you never doubted Sirius’ love for you, it was just as undeniable as his love for Remus. Sirius had such a big heart, he could love and love and he deserved all the love, all of it. He deserved Remus’ love. And you weren’t sure he’d ever be able to enjoy it if you were in the middle of it. You wanted him to be happy, you wanted both of them to be, even if it was in each other’s arms, and not in yours.

Sirius pulled you into a kiss, desperate to show you how much he loved you. You kissed him back, but you were soft and tender in comparison to his desperate breaths. Sirius realised too late the kind of kiss you were giving him.

“Don’t do that,” he said as he pulled away.

You rubbed your thumb over his cheek. Sirius was terrified now. Terrified that the one thing he thought would happen if you found out would actually happen, that you would leave him. But in this case, you weren’t leaving him because you were mad, you didn’t even seem angry at all, it was more like you wanted to step out of the way.

“Stop it,” he repeated, now petulantly, almost like a child. “Don’t be good, don’t be the hero. Be selfish! Be selfish, be selfish for me.”

The more Sirius talked, the harder it was for you to continue. You wanted to be selfish, you wanted to keep him, but not at the expense of other’s pain, not at the expense of Remus’. Remus and Sirius needed love, and you could only make them both happy if you allowed them to give it to each other, or so you thought.

Sirius leaned in to kiss you again but this time you moved your mouth out of the way, placing a soft kiss on his cheek instead. You could feel the wet hot tears dampen your lips as you kissed him. At first, you weren’t sure who they belonged to, but you had somehow managed to hold yours in this far.

Sirius whispered your name as he gripped onto your shirt, bunching it up in a futile attempt to hold you. “Please,” he begged. “Please don’t do this. I don’t want him, I will never want him. Please-”

“If only we could choose our nature,” you sighed. “We said we wouldn’t lie to each other, remember?”

“Please,” he pleaded, every muscle on his face turning into the most evident show of agony.

Sirius had never begged to a woman in his entire life, he was ready to go down on his knees and be as pathetic as he needed. Whatever means he had to do to convince you to stay. To not leave him for being so stupid. To not disappear again. You placed both of your hands over his, gently pushing them off your shirt, and pulling him into a hug.

He relaxed as you dug your head into his neck and inhaled the delicious scent so particular of Sirius Black. And then you said it. “Go after him, Sirius.”

He looked at you like you had betrayed him as you pulled apart. He tried to hold onto your arm but you were quicker to move it out of his grasp. Turning your back to him and walking towards the door.

“I love you more. I will always love you more. It’s just a stupid crush, I’m sure it will–” he stopped. He didn’t believe that either, there was no way he’d trick you. You kept walking towards the door. “Please don’t leave me,” Sirius said, tears streaming down his face. “I don’t want to be alone.”

You staggered, the tears you had fought so hard to hold were now streaming down your face, you held back a sob. You didn’t want him to know you were crying too, you wanted to spare him the heartache. You thought of turning around, you thought of running to hug him and tell him things would be all right, telling him that it didn’t matter, that you’d find a solution that made everyone happy. But you knew you were lying to yourself. Remus wouldn’t be happy if you were with Sirius and Sirius wouldn’t be happy if he couldn’t be with Remus either. It was best to step out of the way before it was too late.

Before you wouldn’t be able to pull away even if you wanted to. You could barely do it now.

You took a deep, trembling breath and then willed your mouth to still again before you spoke, “You won’t be alone, Sirius. Go and talk to him.”

Sirius’ despair had now transformed to anger, he stalked your way and made you turn around in a harsh movement so uncharacteristic of him and the way he touched you all the time that you looked at him with shock.

“I’m not going to let you run away from this like you’ve been running away from your pain ever since Christmas!”

The harsh truth. Spit into your face with the anguished face of the person that– probably the person that you loved the most.

“I’m sorry,” you said, tilting your head, “I can’t help you.”

“Tell me you don’t love me, and I will stop. I won’t look for you. Go ahead, I dare you.”

Sirius had never been one to keep his temper cool, it was easy to get a rise out of him and you had often done it for fun. Never had it been real, never had you seen him so angry, so wrecked. You were doing this to him.

Your lips trembled. You hated this, you hated causing so much pain to him. You were trying to make him happier, couldn’t he see?

Of course, he couldn’t. Sirius would never fathom a life without you as a happy one. They were an antithesis to each other, and there was no way he’d ever be happy if you weren’t there. If you and Remus weren’t there.

He wouldn’t stop, he wouldn’t go to him if you didn’t do it. You bit your lip, gaze flickering. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Remus. He was talking to Lily, she was laughing and he had a smile on, but it wasn’t a real one, he was upset.

Maybe because you and Sirius were in the kitchen together doing god knows what. Your quivering stilled, your choice had been made easy. You knew what you had to do, and while the pain that Sirius’ broken gaze gave you was unbearable, much worse than cruciatus, you knew, just like that time, why you had to take it and why you were willing to do it.

“I don’t love you, Sirius,” you said, slow, carefully articulating every word, trying to spare them of the feelings you had stuck in your head, of the words desperate to come out: I do, I’m lying, don’t listen to me, I’m lying. “I stopped loving you the second I figured you had feelings for Remus.”

“You’re lying,” Sirius said unconvinced, voice trembling.

“I’m sorry,” you said tilting your head to the side. “You should talk to Remus, though.”

You somehow managed to slip from his grasp and walked towards the stairs. You wiped your tears away, and you were so busy with your task that you didn’t see Remus as you bumped into him. He looked at you, concerned visible in his features the second he realised you had been crying.

“Hey,” he said. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

Yes, he deserved to be happy. You swallowed thickly. “Sirius was looking for you.”

“What?” Remus asked, confused.

“Go talk to him.” You added with a smile. “I’m okay, something got on my eye.”

Remus seemed hesitant and then turned to look at the kitchen door. Sirius seemed as upset as you were. As sad and terrified as you looked. He turned to you again, as if trying to ensure he could go instead of staying with you.

“But–”

“I said: go.” The way the words echoed in your brain was disorienting. What was more, was the fact that Remus’ worried stance seemed to dissolve into oblivion as he turned around and walked towards Sirius. When you noticed his blank stare you gasped, covering your mouth with your hand when you realised what you had done.

You couldn’t have, it was impossible. You didn’t have the ability you... Remus kept walking towards Sirius without so much of a glance back.

You had used charmspeak on him

It'll drain the power that's in you Make you plead and scream and crawl And the pain will make you crazy You're the victim of your crime Too much love will kiII you every time

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A/N: Well that was something... I shed a couple of tears (many) while writing it, but you know what this means? The worst of the angst is about to pass and we're finally gonna have the fluflly fluff <3

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stellarbit · 26 days ago

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(Is this where requests are submitted? Hope so!)

1000 followers! I can’t even fathom that. Well done!

Was hoping for a SFW using “I can’t remember the last time I laughed like this.” Female in the periphery of 501st (mech/nurse/comms) who is on the quieter side. Hanging out with the usual mouthy suspects (playing sabacc or watching a game) as the boys throw insults and tease each other. She throws in the occasional pointed zinger and it gets their attention. Then it’s on! Playful banter ensues. An intellectual “geeky girl takes off her glasses and is finally noticed” feel. Thank you for considering my request.

Thank youuuuuu for the request. This was super fun but WARNING I don't actually understand sabacc so beware I winged it a lil.

All Bets Are Off

Word Count: 2.2k Pairing: platonic 501st x fem!reader Warnings: insinuation of gambling and bad portrayal of sabacc Summary: Jesse, Kix, Dogma, Tup, and Fives decide to play sabacc after finding you tinkering away alone. Dogma can't win, probably doesn't know how to, and you decide to lend a hand.

General Skywalker left much of his plans for the upcoming mission to the imagination of the 501st. All preparations that could be made with the few details given were already put into motion - leaving you and your squad with ample time to kill on the Resolute.

The General personally recruited you after your help decrypting Separatist communications during a mission on your home planet. You’d been hesitant at first, having no combat experience and the desire for a quiet life, but accepted regardless.

The men of the 501st battalion did their best to put you at ease and yet, even after a few weeks with them, you still sat in an adjustment period. Not that that stopped them from loitering around you in their downtime. You were their first taste of female attention that wasn’t Jedi, though, they’d never admit it. In return you were boundlessly entertained by the clones, though, you rarely showed it.

Having come upon you tinkering with a broadband transceiver, Jesse, Kix, Fives, Tup, and Dogma took up a game of sabacc to ‘keep you company’, as they put it. All the while, you snuck glances from the sidelines. Three rounds in and Jesse was on top with Dogma sourly coming in last.

“Admit it, Dogma, you don’t even know how to play.” Jesse laughed, triumphantly splaying out his cards on the table.

A chorus of groans rounded the group, accentuated by Dogma slamming a hand on the table. Quickly on his feet, Dogma jabbed an accusatory finger across the table. “I know how to play. You’re just getting lucky.” He curled his lip and harshly gestured to Tup who sat beside him. “I bet he isn’t even shuffling correctly!”

One corner of your lips tipped into a smirk. Dogma may have been wrong about Tup’s shuffling, but, at least for where you sat, it did seem luck fueled Jesse’s winning streak.

Tup swept his hands around the table, gathering the cards for another round. Ever the patient man, Tup only shook his head at his brother’s accusation. Kix, on the other hand, would never miss an opportunity to rile his tightly wound brother.

Smirking, the medic leaned over the table, tauntingly saying, “If you’re so sure, maybe you should deal next.” Tup smiled, nodded, and offered the deck to Dogma. His suggestion only further annoyed Dogma, who pointedly shoved Tup’s hand away.

As Tup started divvying out the cards, Kix continued, “And you’ll need a bigger tattoo to hide those tells, mate.” You paused your work solely to catch the predictable, red tint Dogma’s face took on.

“You’re one to talk,” Fives retorted with a chuckle, glancing at his first card and then smirking mischievously at Kix. “You couldn’t bluff your way out of a paper bag.”

“How do you-”

Jesse cut Kix short, “You pick up an extra card every time you think you’ve got a good hand.” The entire table murmured in humored agreement before settling into determined silence once the cards were dealt.

It was funny, you thought, how they pestered one another. They really were brothers at the core of it all.

Your hands remained still as you dialed in on the game. Initially, you drowned out their commotion during the first round. By the end of the second round, you were purposely eavesdropping - which might not have been the right word considering they’d stepped in on your work as opposed to the other way around. In the last round you’d started tracking who laid down what, correctly predicting Jesse’s win. You’d been counting their cards.

As the next round started you didn’t see the harm in possibly lending poor Dogma a little help. You were sure that Tup was right in Dogma’s knowledge of the game, but that didn’t mean he didn’t deserve a little boost.

Nonchalantly positioning yourself for a view of the whole table, you kept an eye on the cards going around. It seemed that Jesse’s streak might finally break, and fortune was turning in Dogma’s favor.

Confident the other men had equally as bad hands, or worse, than him, you nearly turned away until Dogma started reaching for the draw pile. Hoping to stop him, you purposely scraped your spanner into the device in hand. By chance, the noise stalled him enough to glance towards you.

In a subtle second, you gave a discouraging shake of your head. His eyes stayed on you, albeit with a suspicious glint, as he retracted his hand. Dogma was in no way subtle and his obtuse reaction, just like all of his other tells, was not lost on his squad. You were back to looking busy by the time heads turned your way.

The moment the men returned their attention to the game you followed suit. For reasons unknown to you, Dogma maintained a frustrated expression despite the fact that you knew he had the lowest count hand. At that point, you were certain - he had no clue what the point of the game was or what it took to win.

The round came to an end when Tup passed on his turn. It was Dogma’s best chance at winning and luckily Dogma did you the favor of looking your way without signal. You quickly mouthed ‘call’ before the others caught on.

Tup did lean back in search of Dogma’s distraction, surprised to find you spectating. A small smile was all it took for Tup to shrug off his suspicions.

“Call.” Dogma announced with more confidence than you’d expected.

The table erupted in mild laughter, with Kix nudging Jesse playfully. Jesse leaned forward, eyebrow raised skeptically. "You're bluffing."

"I second that," Kix chimed in. "No way I'm folding."

"Not a chance," Jesse added.

"And what keeps catching your eye?" Fives turned sharply, his suspicion fading as soon as he saw you. Leaning back with a relaxed grin, he draped an arm over the back of his chair. "Didn’t think you’d be interested in card games," he teased. “Or take you for a gambling woman.”

Catching the curious glances from the group, you shrugged lightly, your voice laced with feigned boredom, “Oh, I don’t gamble.” Setting aside the transceiver with the same small smile you gave Tup. “That’s for people who need luck.”

A round of “oohs” filtered through the group, each of the clones smirking to one another.

Fives’ head dipped, clearly amused by the jab. “That’s some big talk.” He nodded again to the table at this back. “Alright then, you tell us who’s going to win.”

You attempted a thoughtful frown but the edge you had on them wouldn’t let you stop smiling. “Well, I know it won’t be you.”

A sharp snort came from across the table. You and Fives peaked over at Dogma, who was finally showing some light heartedness. The smile Dogma finally wore made you feel even more confident in your interjecting. The man really needed to loosen up and you were glad to help.

Unbothered, Fives peered back at you then around the table at each of his brothers. “Not me, huh?” Slinking his arm back around he smoothly glanced at his cards once more and, with a casual flick of his wrist, exposed his hand.

Eager to see the results, you shoved out of your seat to stand at Fives’ shoulder. You were disappointed to see your prediction was a card off, but only by the suit, not the number. And, if you were right, Dogma still had the winning hand.

The others groaned and tossed their cards in. Jesse, visibly knocked down a peg, clicked his tongue and shoved his cards in Tup’s direction. The motion turned the cards face up and revealed a hand that lost to both Fives and Dogma.

You eyed the cards Tup gathered before looking over at Dogma. He had an iron grip on his two cards and an odd expression pinching his face. It was a mix between worry, confusion, and forced composure. Altogether it would be best described as outright discomfort.

Sighing, you relaxed with your head cocked to the side. Pointing over at him you nodded, “Go on Dogma,” you paused, shoring up the courage to join their ribbing. “Show them what it’s like to lose.”

Tup laughed heartily, stopped organizing the cards to give Dogma a sarcastic pat on the shoulder. “Yeah, c’mon Dogma. Show us.”

Instead of shoving Tup off, Dogma smacked his cards down in front of him. He kept the faces hidden beneath his hand for a suspenseful moment before unveiling his winning hand.

Dogma’s discomfort melted away as Tup’s sarcasm turned congratulatory while the others scoffed about Dogma’s luck.

In a show of disbelief, Jesse snapped his head in your direction. His tattoo was distorted by the severe pinching of his brows. “How’d you know he was going to win?”

Fives leaned in on his elbows, waving a dismissive hand. “Everyone gets a little lucky.” The dismissal bit into your pride, a slight you wouldn’t let pass.

Bringing your face to his level, you purred to Fives, “Like I said, I don’t need luck Corporal.” You mimicked Tup’s gentle pat to the shoulder as you straightened back out. “If you must know, it’s called ‘counting cards’.”

“You counted the cards?” Kix leaned back in his seat, arms crossed, and wearing an incredulous grin. “From over there?” He exchanged a shake of his head with Jesse beside him.

In a voice that was more impressed than incredulous Jesse said, “It does seem like a reach.”

“You’re just mad that you lost.” Dogma interjected, sending a reassuring nod your way. Out of his squad, he’d been the least personable with you up to that point. Not that his struggle with the softer touches of rapport building ever offended you, it just made the small display of kindness stand out more than it would coming from the others.

Unfortunately, his newfound endearance put you on the spot when he followed up by saying, “In fact, I bet she’d wipe the floor with you lot.”

Dogma wasn’t smiling at you as his brothers turned fully on you, but he was positively brimming with pure confidence in you. He was so much easier to win over than you’d expected and yet, for all he knew, you could’ve just gotten lucky. His borderline blind faith was concerning as it was flattering.

“Well…” Your voice trailed off as the weight of their expectant smiles settled in.

Fives shifted completely around in his chair, soaking up the awkward twinge in your smile. “I’ll take that bet.”

Something about the way his eyebrow quirked up at you in challenge made your stomach flip. For the sake of your sanity you hoped it was born from friendly competition as opposed to charm.

Sucking on a tooth, you gave it one last thought and rolled your eyes. “If you want to go broke that badly, I won’t say no.”

Your compliance, reluctant as you tried to make it seem, roused another round of cheering from the men. Fives and Jesse gladly scooted apart, making way as you drug a chair over.

While you settled in, Tup chuckled as he began shuffling the cards, “If we’d known you liked sabacc, we’d have made you join ages ago.”

Brushing off nonexistent dust from your sleeve you replied, “If I’d known you were this easy to beat I’d have joined ages ago.” Earning their jovial reactions was weirdly satisfying and made you a little annoyed you hadn’t warmed up sooner.

“Alright, alright. Enough chatter.” Fives said in a warm tone. He sat close enough that he only had to lean over slightly to bump into you. “Let’s see you put your money where your mouth is, Shorty.”

Your face heated a bit, neck nearly snapping as you looked up at him. Jesse’s laugh cut you off as you tried to refute the moniker. You weren’t quick enough in turning on Jesse before Kix piped up.

“You are shorter than, well, all of us.”

Even Dogma seemed amused by their joking with you. For him, it probably felt nice for the center of the joking to just not be him for a while. And… it didn’t feel bad either to get the same treatment as they all did.

Despite scoffing to yourself, there was no hiding your enjoyment. A feeling had been bubbling in you through the entire interaction and, without warning, you started laughing loudly and genuinely. Unbeknownst to you, as eager as you were to keep them laughing, seeing your real smile for the first time made the 501st boys just as determined to keep you smiling.

“I can’t remember the last time I laughed like this.” You mumbled as the laughter subsided.

“Ahh, stick with us and I’ll bet you’ll be sick of it.” Tup said, earning an agreeable mumble from the rest of his brothers.

You shrugged, unconvinced. “I’ll take that bet.”

tags: @bruh-myguy-what @baddest-batchers @jetii @hshfsjzjsgj @zahmaddog

#501st #x reader #jesse #kix #fives #tup #dogma #jesse x reader #tcw #sw #the clone wars #kix x reader #fives x reader #tup x reader #dogma x reader #star wars #501st x reader

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aventurineswife · 2 months ago

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HEAR ME OUT 🗣️I though this would be really silly but, i'm curious 😭

An Aventurine x reader! Reader is based on Emu Otori from pjsk.

Since she is always cheerful, and her mission is making smile everybody, i think it would be cute. <3

And she's just there, trying to cheer Aventurine up, especially if she ever finds him in a vulnerable state.

“I'll be there for you”

Summary: You visit Aventurine, in the IPC headquarters to cheer him up. Aventurine, usually charming and carefree, reveals his exhaustion and the heavy stakes of his life as a gambler. As you share laughter and support, Aventurine allows himself to be vulnerable.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Emu Otori based Reader, Established Relationship or can be read Platonically, Vulnerability, Emotional Support, Lighthearted Moments, Wholesome, Fluff.

A/N: I'M NOT FAMILIAR WITH PJSK SO I HOPE I DID IT WELL!! 😭

A gentle hum filled the air as you, the embodiment of Phoenix Wonderland's spirit, wandered through the gleaming halls of the IPC’s towering headquarters. The place was elegant yet sterile, a stark contrast to the lively theme park that had been your second home. But here you were, ready to surprise someone who often brought out the best in you, despite his tendency to wear a dazzling, almost mischievous facade.

Aventurine, or “Aven” as you liked to call him, had been in his office all day, immersed in work. You knew he’d play it off with a smile and a breezy wave if asked, but even his calm, unruffled demeanor couldn't hide his exhaustion from you. You had a knack for noticing those small tells—the way his eyes lingered a bit longer on his paperwork or the faint crease in his brow as he silently analyzed risks, always playing that high-stakes game he seemed to live for.

Your shoes made little noise as you reached the heavy door of his office. Poking your head in, you found Aventurine at his desk. His gaze, fixated on a roulette-themed document, held a rare tinge of weariness.

“Aven!” you called, stepping in with a bounce in your step and a grin that could rival the warmth of a summer day. “Look who’s come to bring some cheer to Mr. Serious himself!”

Aventurine’s lips curved into a soft smile as he looked up, momentarily distracted from his work. “Well, if it isn’t my sunshine in the gloom. You know, I’d almost think you were trying to make an entrance.”

You laughed, brushing his tease off with a wave. “What can I say? I’m on a mission—to make you smile! Wonderhoy!” You threw up your hands in a triumphant gesture, the same one you used to cheer up your friends back at Phoenix Wonderland.

He chuckled, unable to resist the charm of your infectious energy. “Careful now. You’re dangerously close to breaking down my professional demeanor.”

“Aven,” you said more softly, catching the slight dimness in his usually vibrant eyes. “You’re always smiling and laughing, but… Are you really okay? Just because you’re the master of cards doesn’t mean you can bluff with me.”

For a moment, his confident mask faltered. Aventurine looked away, his smile fading as he exhaled, almost as if releasing the weight he held within. He rested his hand on the roulette design of his overcoat, fingers tracing the pattern.

“Sometimes,” he admitted, voice low, “the stakes feel… higher than I let on. It’s easy to play the part, to treat life as if it’s just another game, but… sometimes the risks don’t seem worth it.”

His vulnerability tugged at your heart. You placed your hand on his, squeezing gently. “You know, it’s okay to lean on someone else every now and then. Even big-shot Stonehearts need a break.”

He looked up, and for once, you could see past the facade, to the real Aventurine: the man who’d won his place by daring fate, the one who hid deep scars behind his dazzling smiles.

A smile of your own crept onto your lips, and you reached into your bag, pulling out a small, whimsical treat—a mooncake decorated with a tiny cat face. “I brought you something special,” you said with a playful wink. “I know it’s silly, but it reminded me of you.”

His laughter, softer than usual, filled the room as he accepted the treat, admiring it with a curious gaze. “Is this your secret weapon for cheering me up?”

“Absolutely!” you replied, bright-eyed. “I thought you’d like it. And besides, it’s cute—just like you.”

He raised an eyebrow, amused. “Are you flirting with me?”

You shrugged, laughing. “Maybe a little. But only because I want to see you happy.”

Aventurine took a bite, savoring the sweetness of the pastry and perhaps the warmth of your gesture. For once, he allowed himself a genuine moment of contentment, the weight on his shoulders momentarily lifted.

“Thank you,” he said softly, squeezing your hand in return. “You have a gift, you know… one I’m not sure I deserve.”

“Oh, Aven,” you murmured, leaning in closer. “Everyone deserves a little happiness. Even you.”

In that quiet moment, the IPC office felt like the small stage you’d grown up loving—a space where people could share smiles, cheer each other on, and find a bit of joy amid life’s struggles. And as you looked into Aventurine’s eyes, you saw a hint of something brighter, a glimpse of the man behind the gambler, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart swell with pride.

Aventurine’s fingers brushed over yours. “If I knew I’d meet someone like you, maybe I wouldn’t have gambled so hard.”

“Aw, but then you wouldn’t be the Aven I know and love,” you teased. “So no regrets, okay?”

With that, he chuckled, nodding as he set down the mooncake and drew you into a hug—a rare, vulnerable embrace. And in his arms, you felt the quiet promise that you’d always be there for him, cheering him on and bringing a bit of Phoenix Wonderland’s magic wherever life’s game took you both.

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malfoyfarms · 2 years ago

Text

She Loved You (extended)

JJ Maybank x Routledge!Reader

Word Count: 721

Warnings:none

A/n: part two you’ve all been waiting for; side note @softboystarkey i saw ur user on the list and fangirled, ily

The moment John B had seen the familiar scrawl on the outside of a large manilla envelope, he called everyone over to read it. So here the group sat, sitting on the deck as JB pulled the papers out.

“JJ this one’s specifically for you.” He started to hand it to the boy, but he was cut off.

“No, read it aloud. I won’t be able to get through it.”

So that’s what John B did. He started to narrate his best friend’s words.

I really truly hope this letter gets to you. I didn’t want to put a return address on the envelope because I still can’t come home. I do, though, have something very important to tell you.

For starters, I am safe. I have a roof over my head, a job, and maybe just one friend. I hope you and our gang of bandits are doing alright. I hope JB has forgiven me, because I fucking miss my older brother. It’s taking me longer to detach from you than I thought it would, mostly because you were my whole world. But also because I couldn’t stay away from the ocean. You and the sea are slowly becoming two separate entities, even if I see your eyes every time I look out my bedroom window.

I hope you found happiness. I hope you are with Kie, giving her all the smiles, hugs and affection that only you could muster. If not her, I hope someone is receiving all the love you have to give. In our time growing up, the two of us have seen many marriages fail (I mean we were both raised by single fathers), and many survive. Miserably survive. That was also why I left. I didn’t want us to end up like either.

The day you told me how you felt about Kiara had been one of the worst days of my life, and hearing you tell me you wanted another girl wasn’t even the worst thing. About two hours before I met you at the bluffs I took a test. And it was positive. Your pull out game fucking sucks. But so does my ability to take birth control apparently.

John B stopped reading, as Sarah uttered a “shut the fuck up,” and JJ was paling by the second.

I was terrified, then over the moon, then shattered. I didn’t want you to feel like you had to stay with me because I was pregnant, we’ve seen how that plays out time and time again. I thought about getting rid of it completely, then maybe adoption. Once I heard your confession later that day I knew I had to keep it, so I could have a little bit of you no matter what happened.

What I’m trying to say is you have a daughter. She was born on October 17th, healthy and happy. Her name is Quincie, Quincie Jay. She’s so beautiful, JJ. She has your blonde hair, my dark eyes, and loves to test the limits. Quincie loves the water. And the beach. Especially the sand.

I’m coming home soon. I never want to keep her from you, I just wanted to let your universe work itself out before she made an entrance (and boy was it grand). She needs her dad, her two uncles, her two aunts and she needs to learn how to be a cockroach like the rest of us. I want you in her life, she needs to experience love from a Maybank boy. I added a picture to the bottom of the envelope so you could see her.

All my love,

Y/n (& QJ)

John B shook the package and a 4x6 photo of both Y/n and Quincie fell out. Y/n had eyes so full of love for her daughter, they were shining so bright the group barely noticed her now darker hair, free of charms, thread and braids, or the lack of her freckles. Quincie Jay on the other hand, she was laughing, her mouth was open, and Y/n was right. She looked like JJ with her mother’s eyes. His girls looked so lovely.

The group was frantic trying to take a peek at the baby girl in the photo. But all JJ could think about was that his girls were coming home.

@eddiemunsonhero___ @lilacreader7 @gengen64 @123anonymous123456 @solargazes @Taintedxkisses @shamelessatoru @folkorelover888 @taurusvic @nadinenoa02 @softboystarkey @VOIDRANBOO @Tvdnmf @blueray222 @simp4holland @onehellofabisexual @idli-dosa @byycassie @bokutosmeatythigh

#jj x reader #jj outer banks #jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank smut #Outer Banks #outer banks imagine #obx imagine #obx blurb #obx #pogues #malfoyfarms

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therealvinelle · 6 months ago

Note

Is it true that Tom Riddle has a different name in a lot of translations because publishers thought making the anagram in book 2 would be super important so they changed the name rather than just letting that one thing not work in the translation? What's Tom's name in your Norwegian copy?

I'll have you know almost everybody have different names in the Norwegian translation. I'm sure Harry would too, if the translator could get away with it, sadly his name was on the title card.

Some of this is for pronunciation, Hermione Granger is made Hermine Grang so we're not all sounding like Victor Krumm trying to make sense of her name, others are given more of an overhaul to convey the pun or vibe from the original name. Alastor "Madeye" Moody is Alastor "Galøye" Bister ("Galøye" is literally "Madeye", while "bister" means "terse").

Other examples of translations include the Black family being Svart (Norwegian word for Black) but by and large keeping their constellation names and spelling (with such exceptions as Alfar ("ph" isn't how we spell the f-sound, and the d would doesn't really work either - it's a phonetic translation of Alphard) and Narsissa (the c would be a problem)), and foreign characters like Victor Krumm and Gellert Grindelwald stay (almost: Victor is now Viktor.) the same, presumably because they're foreign in-universe.

For punny translations we have not just the names, but places and things being made punny to best reflect the original. Diagon Alley is made Diagonalgangen, "The diagonal hallway" that with the -en ending becomes "walking diagonally". Heh. Quidditch is rumpeldunk, the snitch is "snoppen" (a euphemism for penis. I commend the translator for making the game somehow that little bit gayer than it already was), Rita Skeeter is Rita Slita (conveying that she's an exhausting, tireless person), Cornelius Fudge is Kornelius Bleouf (a made-up surname that coincidentally is pronounced the same as "bluff"). It keeps going.

Some people didn't get punny names, simply names that captured the vibe. The Crouch family is now Kroek, Percy is Perry, and Tom Riddle (whom I'll get further into below) is Tom Venster.

(Though, since you've got me talking about one of my favorite niche subjects: the translator did make a pun out of Tom's name that isn't in the original series.

Tom is a common name in Norwegian, but it also is the word for "empty". We have an unrelated idiom, "full av faen" - literally "full of the devil", figuratively a malicious or cruel person. For use in conversation, I could use it about a person but also about a particularly grouchy cat. My friend had a horrible day so now they're full av faen, I tried petting that cat but it's full av faen.

The chapter where we meet eleven-year-old Tom Riddle is titled "Tom, eller full av faen".

I can only imagine the translator had been waiting four books to make that pun.)

In other words, yes Tom's name was trnaslated. In Norwegian the full name is Tom Dredolo Venster, with the anagram being "Voldemort den store" (Voldemort the great). That's right, we suffered even worse secondhand embarrassment in Norway.

I am quite fond of the translated name, as it in my opinion captures the vibe of Tom Riddle very well. An ordinary name with a very nice ring to it, and you don't actually know anybody else with that exact name. Dredolo, the oddball middle name, is as foreign yet fitting with the rest as Marvolo is in English. It's a name that rolls off the tongue.

The Danes, by comparison, have Romeo Gåde Detlev. Which is a very... eyecatching name, I've seen it go viral several times (along with the French Tom Elvis Jedusor), but the problem is that Tom was named for his father, an English gentleman in the 1920's, and this name sounds like a cultural melting pot. Gåde, originally the middle name that stood out and had Mrs. Cole assuming Merope came from an exotic background, is now the most normal name in there.

I want to be lenient, I do, the translator hadn't read Half-Blood Prince at the time and didn't know how much emphasis would be placed on Tom's name being ordinary. But, well, he made the name a different ethnicity, and I can only imagine he must have wanted the first name "Romeo" quite badly. We're left with a name that signals completely different things, which I do think is relevant when Tom's name being painfully Muggle and ordinary, growing up in 1930's London, had such an impact. Being perceived as foreign, which he would be with that name, would change things. His shedding the name to become Voldemort also takes on a very different meaning when he's an Englishmen who spent the first few decades of his life being asked if his parents fled the Soviet Union.

So, not a fan of Romeo Detlev.

As for Tom Elvis Jedusor, that one I have no problem with. Elvis wouldn't become a star until several decades after Tom's birth, and the middle name is supposed to be unusual anyway. The rest of the name sounds appropriately French, no notes. (Though the Danish translator should have taken some for how to give readers a funny, but plausible name).

#harry potter #harry potter books #harry potter translated #harry potter meta #tom riddle #tom venster #thorstein bugge hoeverstad

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thesweetnessofspring · 1 year ago

Text

I'm convinced that Snow was the one who came up with the "rule change" in THG (idc what the movie did with it--they didn't know TBOSAS and it was less than convincing they way they did it).

Just think about it. We start off the Games with Katniss's courageous action volunteering for her younger sister. Then Peeta did something radical. He decided to follow through on his declaration of love to Katniss and did everything he could in the arena to save her. Getting sponsors, teaming up with the Careers, getting Katniss to leave and fighting Cato for her. Can you imagine what that was doing in the Capitol? In the Districts? How could you watch someone do that and not hope for a happy ending, even as Peeta lay dying in the mud, whispering Katniss's name?

And then Katniss teams up with Rue and is devastated by her death. She stays with her, sings to her, until she dies. Bolstered by Peeta's words about not being a piece in their games and finally getting what he means, she decorates Rue with flowers. She honors her life and her unnecessary death. District 11 recognizes this and even though they have another tribute alive in the Games, send Katniss the bread.

In Snow's mind, everything about the games is starting to crack. Young love being selfless, sisterly affection defying the Capitol, comradery fostering between districts. He simply can't let it go on. He has to remind people in the Capitol and the Districts that this is not human nature. He is going to prove that. So he tells Seneca Crane to announce the rule change.

He expects Cato and Clove to make it to the final two. In their new advantage, they will become a deadly, mostly healthy team. Meanwhile, Snow can see that Katniss doesn't hold the same care for Peeta that he does for her (she had tried to kill him with tracker jackers, after all). Even if she goes to find him, she'll abandon him once it gets too hard, too dangerous. The hope of love triumphing will be met with annoyance at his injuries and agreeing to stay behind and not get his medicine. And even if she does, he'll still be too injured to truly be useful.

But things go awry. Thresh saves Katniss because of her kindness to a little girl he, too, saw as a younger sister. He kills Clove, bringing about Cato's wrath. And Katniss Everdeen turns out to be a better actress than expected.

No matter, though--once the rule change is revoked, the truth of the stripped-down human nature will come out. Oh, Peeta will throw out the ravings of a teenage boy high on hormones, but people will remember how awful they truly are when Katniss puts an arrow through his heart. After all, Snow's made that decision before. His lover or himself. Death in the woods or life with riches in the Capitol. It's easy, really, to make that decision. And people will remember even the best among them, even she who willingly risked her life to get medicine or volunteer for her sister, won't avoid killing in order to survive herself.

But Katniss calls their bluff, and Peeta goes along with it. They've chosen to protest the Hunger Games with their deaths. Seneca makes the call to announce two winners. Really, Snow was going to kill him either way. Someone has to be publicly accountable for the place he's in now, and Snow certainly isn't going to take credit for his idea. After this, he tries and tries to get Peeta and Katniss to have to kill each other. The Quarter Quell. The hijacking. But it never works. And not just because of them, but because a whole nation finally stands up and says Enough. We won't let this go on anymore. In the end, Snow was entirely wrong because he never truly understood love.

#the hunger games #coriolanus snow #tbosas #thg headcanons #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark

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the-radio-demon-blog · 5 months ago

Note

Hello hello, its me again! *gives a small grin*

Thank you for sharing a bit of insight into your childhood pastimes with me. It was really intriguing!

I used to enjoy tag as well, though I am not very good at card games, minus go fish and possibly old maid. I can play uno though. I don't think I have the best poker face myself. Surprisingly enough, though, I am exceptional at liar's dice. It's a social game of deception and strategy were people make bids and call bluffs on other players while attempting to avoid losing their own dice, so to speak. Its quite fun, I recommend it!

However, math isn't a strong suit of mine, nor is figuring out the probability of things; but some how I have a weird sort of luck with that game in particular. I believe I even made an acquaintance of mine nearly loose his mind in trying to figure out how I was able to guess correctly almost every single time without an ounce of thought put into my strategy haha.

*clears throat and shuffles in place, holding both hands behind her. It's obvious she's holding something*

In any case, that's not the only reason I'm back. I wanted to give you a surprise. You seem the type to appreciate those, I'm assuming.

*glances over into the lobby at all of the flower arrangements present gifted from previous guests*

But I think I'm a little late to the party with the surprise I have for you, haha. Well, great minds think alike I suppose. Anyways, the suspense is probably killing you, so here you go!

*Presents a bouquet of magnolias and violet Louisiana Irises in a sizable vase with a soft, shy smile*

Everyone deserves to at least get a bouquet of their favorite flowers every now and then. Its a token of my respect for you, my appreciation for your time and just to say I'm a fan of your work and radio show.

Also, if you guys need any help around the hotel, I don't mind volunteering! Though I'm not the best at fighting for security purposes, I am quite good at listening if someone needs to express troubling emotions and the like. I am also somewhat of an artist and can help make pamphlets and such for the classes and activities the Princess is providing, if you think that would be beneficial to anyone...

*Sheepishly laughs*

Though, I suppose you would need to discuss such an arrangement with the princess first. In any case, if you think my assistance would be necessary or profitable, I am willing to lend a helping hand wherever it is needed.

"Ah, of course, my dear! I am happy that you found my childhood pastimes intriguing!"

"Hmm...that's quite a curious skill? Terrible at poker yet good at liar's dice? How fascinating! Ah, yes, I have played old maid in my time at the bars. You should truly take up card playing, my dear! It is quite fun!"

"Well, fate and luck works in mysterious ways, darling! That's what keeps life fun, hm? I must also admit my strategies can be erratic. I like to be unpredictable. Once you fall into a pattern, your opponents can exploit it."

Alastor gives you a curious look and tries to discreetly peer behind you.

"Oh my goodness! Thank you, dear!" Alastor takes the flowers eagerly into his hands and sniffs their wonderous scent. He lets out a good humored laugh. "I never thought I'd ever get to smell them again! Hah! As strange as that sounds! It is always nice to meet a fan of my work!"

"Yes, of course I would have to discuss such things with the princess." Alastor tilts his head and grins at her. "That's quite alright that you aren't exactly prowess, not everyone is built to be. However..." Alastor taps his chin. "...the Princess has been organizing this...hmm...this odd "therapy" activity. Perhaps you could help her with that?"

Alastsor sets the vase on the coffee table, taking good care to arrange them in a pleasing position. Then he turns back to her and offers her an arm. "If you would follow me, I can take you to the princess herself if you'd like!"

#hazbin hotel #ask #ask blog #ask answered #send asks #alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor the radio demon #asks open #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor and charlie #charlie and alastor #charlie morningstar #roleplay blog #roleplay?#roleplay #flowers #magnolias #violet Louisiana irises

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gotham25052 · 9 days ago

Text

Dark Waters

Part 5

Contents: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

As the social fabric of Gotham begins to fray and the Joker's intrusion into her life escalates, Anna struggles to maintain control. But is she threatened by the Joker or by something within herself?

Author's note: Excited to share Part 5! There are a lot of callbacks to earlier chapters in this part, so if you are interested in reading but haven't gone through those yet, you might want to read parts 1-4 first to get the most out of it. The second half of Part 5 is a really special section of this whole story.

This week is fire and ice (not like Game of Thrones, just like literal fire and ice :) )

TW: 18+, violence, mild sexual content, brief swearing, heavy themes including contemplation of death

Dark Waters, Part 5

He could feel it, even from the first time he saw her. The wildness in her, her fierce loyalty, her absolute devotion, he could feel it in her body when he first held her to the wall, he could see it in her eyes. He knew that she relished her freedom in the same way he valued his - she would never accept being penned in. The only prison she would accept was the one she had built for herself. He would have to break her out of it.

All her best qualities were clouded by fear. But it was like seeing the sky on a stormy day, the clouds didn't faze him at all, and the brief glimpses of clear sky appeared even bluer in the grayness.

He ruled the city, but with those eyes, she seemed to be from beyond the city or from beyond this world. When he looked at her, he was lost in their cold blue depths, like the fire in his soul had a short reprieve from the constant heat. He wanted her, he wanted her to worship him, he wanted her to follow every command without question, he wanted to discover all the hidden details of her thoughts, her body. But it was taking so long to pull her out of her stupor that years of neglect had built around her, so hard to find the fire inside her. She was a challenge, but he liked a challenge.

He was busy directing his organization, destabilizing Gotham's institutions and swaying public opinion against the powers that be. This side project was a welcome distraction, a place to pour his overflowing energy and drive. The day to day of managing his growing enterprise was tedious and quite boring in its details. Just like war, he had days of frenzied activity followed by weeks of waiting.

He had been with many partners. Some pretended to suffer at his touch, imagining that was what he wanted as the Joker of Gotham, but he knew better. By the end he always called their bluff. This one, though - when he was near her, it was like touching a pool of still water and watching the ripples disturb the surface all the way to the edge. He knew she would make an excellent lover.

Annie tried to get back to her routine after her last encounter with the Joker. She filled her days with work, taking on extra hours, coming home only when she was completely exhausted. She was hoping that at least looking in the mirror would stop reminding her of their last outing together as she watched the dark dye fade away, but the passage of time didn't seem to help.

She avoided stopping on her commute to watch the waves break onto the rocky seawall. The first time she had tried to go back, she questioned whether it was the wind tossing her hair, or his hands running through it again. She left and had not returned. Being there only reminded her of him now.

But most of the time, she didn't feel at all. She had been able to shut herself off for years. The truth was, she was really just waiting for her clock to tick down when the Joker found her in the ballroom.

Her experiences with others throughout her life, especially men, had alternated between unpleasant and brutal. Keeping herself in isolation soothed her wounds and made her feel as if she was somehow fulfilling her role in life. But deep down, she knew she was really just waiting for it all to end. He had disturbed her peace when she had already given up on this world, and she felt anger boil up under her skin. The tranquility she had worked for seemed to be gone, pulled out from under her.

She guarded herself vigilantly, immediately throwing out any thoughts connected to the Joker. She resented the fact that he had found a place in her mind at all. She was used to exercising extreme self-control. Years of holding in her desire to escape from the Church before she was finally able to leave, and now deprivation and a life of solitude in Gotham - she had been able to hold herself in tight check for a decade.

The nights were what she most dreaded. No matter how tired she was when she went to sleep, she would wake up, breathless and alert, feeling the strange rhythm of his voice in her ear. Was it fear that tortured her? She told herself it was, and blotted out her memory of those nights once morning came. She was very good at dividing herself into parts.

But now here she was washing the tubs that had held the meats and cheeses for the restaurant in Upper Gotham, and the mundane task took just enough of her attention that she forgot to watch her thoughts. Her mind turned in the direction she was constantly avoiding.

She remembered seeing his disheveled hair and calculating face in the front seat of the car. He was so self-assured, avoiding every snare in the streets of Gotham. She felt the strength of his arms when he held her, effortlessly pushing her through the hallways of the news studio; she recalled how his breath flowed over her ear when he dragged his fingers along her neck, slowly following the line of the necklace, his look of absolute concentration in the mirror…

"Annie, we're trying to do dishes here," a voice broke into her daydream. She shook her head as if it would dislodge the memories and focused on the work with twice the energy, pushing all the intrusive thoughts out of her mind.

She finally took off her apron, hanging it in the usual spot. She left the restaurant to catch the evening bus back to Lower Gotham. She stared straight ahead during the ride, feeling the anger spark under her skin, upset that she had let her thoughts wander so freely at work. The bus stopped, and she headed off to transit to the other line that would take her the rest of the way home.

She was looking at the ground, trying to get to the next bus as quickly as possible, when she heard it. The base of a thunderous boom in the distance that was so powerful it broke windows just down the street from her. She felt the shockwave run through her chest and echo in her head. She instinctively looked back, searching for the source of the explosion. A building in the distance was alight, engulfed in flames.

The pink radiance of the sunset mixed with the orange glow of the fire. A series of smaller explosions followed the first blast, each one closer than the last. She stood mesmerized by the dancing flames and the bizarre glow of the sky.

"Get out of the way, bitch, are you crazy?" shouted a man as a he pushed past her, nearly making her fall. Regaining her stance, she continued to study the slow march of disaster unfolding down the street, the sounds unmistakably drawing nearer. The wind whipped past her face, carrying the shouts of those who were caught up in the rush. She realized that the crowd was quickly closing in on her, the distance between people slowly disappearing so that she began to fear that the oncoming mass would crush her.

She started when she felt as if the rush of the wind running past her had been replaced by the touch of a familiar gloved hand, moving her hair away from the side of her face. She thought she was just imagining his presence again, until she heard his voice in her ear. "It is magnificent," he said softly, his tone strangely comforting to her in this chaotic situation.

She turned around and saw him back away from her, lifting up his arms to address the crowd. His words seemed oblivious to the strong wind and carried through the air as if it was still. "She's just enjoying the show," he announced, as if her fascination with the oncoming disaster was the most understandable reaction in the world. The crowd pressed back, away from the figure that stood before them with the recognizable white face and garish red mouth. She saw his jacket billowing out behind him, the waving orange silk lining flickering like the flames, almost glowing.

He grabbed her shoulders, forcing her out of the mass of people, and the fear of being trampled by the oncoming crowd temporarily overcame her caution. She followed his guiding arm to run with him, as those who had surrounded her before stared at them, shocked to see the strange woman arm in arm with the infamous Joker.

They came to a vehicle that looked like a hybrid of an armored truck and a van. He opened the side door to the back and had her inside and sitting down beside him before she could even consider breaking away. She surveyed her new surroundings as the vehicle sped off. The space inside had been hollowed out and benches were arranged around the perimeter. There were a few drop seats in the back, and that is where the Joker had sat down with her. Several men rested on the benches on either side, holding a motley array of firearms.

She gave him an alarmed sideways glance, and he saw the question in her eyes. "We're just a diversion, kitten," he said, pulling his shotgun out from under the seat and setting it on his lap. His words did not provide much assurance.

"What… how did you do this?" she asked, confused about how he could have orchestrated so many explosions on the border of Lower and Upper Gotham.

"Me? I didn't do anything. Chaos has its own way of spreading, once it starts. I just connected the people who wanted some fireworks with the explosives. The pieces came together on their own. Everyone hates Dent's checkpoints."

"It's more than just the checkpoints - there are buildings on fire," she explained, her curiosity overcoming her fear for a moment.

"Well, dynamite isn't very precise. Who knows, maybe some of these people had other axes to grind with the city." He gave her a sidelong glance and stared forward again, making it clear he was ending their brief conversation.

The evening was turning to night as they drove on. The Joker reclined, putting his feet up on the bench that lined the left side of the space. He seemed to be in good spirits, along with his men. He held the gun in place with one hand and lit up a cigarette with the other, joining several of them who were smoking. Though he always seemed to be at ease, she realized she had never truly seen him in his element until now. His occasional nervous ticks were gone, replaced by a fluid calm in the way he raised the cigarette to his lips and held the gun as if it belonged there, close to his body.

His jacket hung down luxuriously, the fabric draped over his reclined figure. She stared at the orange lining, bright against the dusty purple of his pants, shimmering with new color as the streetlights shined through the high windows of the van. She watched the darkness and light play on the glowing surface. She glanced up at his face, seeing his glittering eyes staring forward like an animal at home in the night. He seemed truly comfortable, absolutely contented, in this van speeding through the cold winter streets of Gotham, deciding which area of the city to strike.

He opened his mouth wide, leaning his head back and letting the smoke drift out slowly. Suddenly he turned toward her, a sly smile spreading over his face.

"So you like a man with a gun, kitten?" He said it as if he had discovered a hidden vulnerability in her.

He got up and walked to the front of the van, apparently talking to the driver. The men began to sit up, everyone on alert now, waiting for something. She looked around her nervously. He came back to sit down again, inspecting her face with pursed lips as if he was making a decision. He reached into his pocket and then grabbed the top of her head with his other hand. Her confusion caused her to stay still, and just as she was coming to herself enough to protest, she realized he was putting earplugs into her ears. "You wouldn't have done it right," he said as he finished.

"Now get on the floor," he instructed, as if he was asking her to do the simplest chore.

"The floor, now," he growled, the urgency becoming clearer as the van sped on more erratically. She pushed herself out of the seat and got on her hands and knees on the unsteady floor, not sure what to do. He rolled his eyes and sighed, putting his hand on her back and pushing her down so that she would lie flat. She simply let him guide her - this was his world. He pushed her prone form under the drop seats as calmly as if he was closing a drawer, and then quickly spun away to arrange his men. They were all rising from their seats and positioning their weapons.

From her limited vantagepoint, she could see rushing feet and heard muffled sounds as the van stopped short and the side door opened. She saw them disappear, heading outside, and then heard the gunshots loud and clear. She couldn't believe she was wearing earplugs - the sound of the shots was still deafening. Finally the sounds became more sporadic and then died out altogether. She waited in the eerie silence until the men returned, and she felt some relief as she recognized the Joker's shoes.

She moved herself forward to get a slightly better view of what was happening. She looked on in alarm as she saw the men pull a wounded police officer into the van. Her apprehension seemed well-founded as the Joker came closer to the man, but the officer had the opposite reaction to what she had thought - she saw relief wash over him when he looked up to see the Joker. She realized that this must be one of the officers who was working for him. The Joker quickly removed his gloves and coat and was looking carefully at the wound on the man's shoulder.

The driver had sped away from the scene but now he pulled into a secluded alley. The Joker grabbed a small box mounted on the sidewall of the van and opened it, revealing first aid supplies. She watched in disbelief as he took the cap off a syringe and pressed it into the man's uninjured arm. She could see the officer's body relax, and the Joker proceeded to stuff the wound with gauze he pulled from the box and held a dressing over it, applying pressure to the injured shoulder.

"We'll take him to the casino, Doc Gallo will fix him up," he ordered, and the driver sped off again.

She began to understand the deep bond the Joker had with his men. He seemed to treat them so poorly in every other setting, and at times she had wondered why they even bothered to stay with him. But here was where they were truly doing their work, and the Joker treated them all as equals. He stayed with them during the fighting, and the whole group worked together like a well-oiled machine. Many of the men looked like the outcasts of society, but here together somehow they seemed to fit in, like some forgotten army battalion that was still fighting despite the war's end. She could tell from the relief on the officer's face that he trusted the Joker completely, totally at ease under his care.

They arrived at what must have been the "casino," but it looked like just another abandoned building on the outskirts of the city. They carried the injured man inside, leaving her alone again. The minutes felt like hours to her, and she wondered if they were eating or resting before resuming the journey. Finally they returned without the officer, and the van began moving toward the center of town again. They seemed to have forgotten she was there, and she was happy to remain hidden under the seats.

They were speeding through the night and all sounds were muffled. She felt secure in her forgotten spot, and the long days of work and broken sleep that had been going on for weeks finally caught up with her. She fell into a deep slumber, lulled by the vibrations of the tires on the city's pavement.

He squatted down beside the drop seat, peeking under it to see Annie there. Her soft form, just barely moving with the breaths of deep sleep, stood in contrast to the hard metal edges of the van's interior. The men were surprised to see him take off his jacket and lay it over her so gently, without waking her. He settled himself back in his seat above her as if he hadn't noticed their stares, but then moved his head upward and let his gaze roam over all of them. They looked away, not wanting to trifle with his anger.

She began to wake up, the first weak light of morning showing through the few windows in the van. She could see his feet move away from her as he stood up, walking to the front to talk to the driver again, and she crept halfway out from under the seat, wondering how much time had passed - it seemed that most of the men had been dropped off, with only a few left seated in the front. The Joker was there too, talking with them. A heavy cold had fallen without many people in the back to warm it up. He turned and began moving toward his seat again, grabbing onto the benches to steady himself on the bumpy ride, in a rapid and disjointed walk that was somewhat unnerving to watch.

He bent down, crouching on the floor. "Ah, kitten, finally waking up from your nap!" he tutted with his tongue as if she was a misbehaving child. She suddenly understood why she was so warm when she saw him without his usual purple jacket and realized that it was draped over her. She was embarrassed, quickly removing it and maneuvering around him to pull herself to her feet. She was shivering almost immediately, the cold in the unheated space settling on her. The cheap jacket she had decided to wear to work that day didn't protect against this kind of weather. He stood briskly, bringing the coat up with him and regarding her as if she was absolutely stupid. He quickly wrapped the coat around her and fitted her arms through the long sleeves. He paused for a moment, holding the front edges of the jacket, their bodies close together. She almost stopped shivering for a moment with her shock at his gesture and her worry about what would happen next. But he quickly wrapped the coat around her and pushed her back into her seat.

He resumed nonchalantly lounging beside her. She stopped shivering right away - the jacket was extremely warm, as if the lining was in fact a glowing fire. She felt as if she was transported back to the moment in the ballroom - he had pressed her to the wall and the purple cloth had scratched against her face when he turned. But now the satin lining felt smooth against her skin.

She noticed a faint trace of perfume in the collar, a delicate scent that reminded her of the luxury of the parties she sometimes staffed, the fine clothes and settings that were so far removed from her daily life in Gotham. It woke her up tenfold, surrounding her in a fragrance that came from another world, far from this bleak and empty metal box.

The time passed lazily as they drove, the Joker periodically looking out the window and giving directions to the driver. Suddenly, he stood up. "Here's your stop!" he said with feigned cheer, and put his hand under her arm to pull her up beside him. She realized they were just outside her apartment building. The van came to a halt.

He studied her expression as they stood together. She looked up into the painted canvas of his face and suddenly felt bewitched by some kind of strange magic, as if she no longer had control. Her hand reached up and took a strand of his disheveled hair, running it slowly between her fingers. So beautiful, the shades of blonde and brown and green there. She saw the muscles tense in his jaw and his expression became stern. His hand reached up to grab hers - at first she thought to remove it from his hair, but he simply held it there with a gentle firmness.

The grasp of his hand was easier to read than his inscrutable face. She took it in both of her own and brought it down as if to study it. She slowly removed the purple glove.

She surveyed it carefully, as if it was something from another world, a hand that could inflict such cruelty. But his fingers were not boxy or crude. Instead they were strong and graceful, long like the fingers of an artist. She hesitated when she saw the faint outlines of triangular scars under his nails, so much like her more recent wounds from only a few months ago. He seemed to pull back, and she stopped analyzing. She covered his nails with her hand, wrapping his fingertips protectively. He shifted his eyes from their intertwined hands to her flushed face.

He moved his other hand up to her chin, resting his fingers there and slowly running a gloved thumb over her bottom lip. All the breath left her body. She stood utterly motionless, moving her gaze downward to avoid looking up at him, instinctively aware that they were walking on a knife's edge. She questioned herself, anxious thoughts racing through her brain - why had she reached up to touch him? What had propelled her to act this way?

He removed his thumb from her lip abruptly, instead bringing his hands to either side of her head and running his fingers through her hair, drawing it away from her face. The warmth crept onto her skin and spread down through her neck, but when his fingers reached the back of her head, she felt them close suddenly to make fists. He grasped her hair tightly, yanking her head back as he did it, forcing her to look at him. She took a panicked breath, terrified at his furious expression, his lips drawn back like a vicious dog. In the half light inside the van, his eyes looked utterly black and heartless when they met hers. He let out a grunt of frustration and let go of her. She realized he was roughly removing his jacket from her arms, and suddenly felt the cold night air as he pushed her out of the van onto the street.

"Goodbye, kitten," he called, the anger barely hidden under his measured voice. He motioned to the driver and continued standing by the open door, watching her as the van sped away.

The destruction the Joker had orchestrated made travel much more difficult between the two halves of the city. Three bridges had been damaged, but one remained open. People like Annie who had to commute to Upper Gotham for work found it possible but much more difficult to find transportation.

Once again, it seemed like Dent was taking the situation that the Joker had created and making it exponentially worse with his focus on law and order. After the attack on the checkpoints, he had them rebuilt and announced the beginning of a passport system for Lower Gotham. In a matter of days, a special identity card would be required for anyone from Lower Gotham to pass back and forth between the two sides of the city.

Annie had listened carefully to the news, because she immediately recognized a problem. The police would be issuing the passports. She would have to return to the station, something she was extremely reluctant to do. One day when she was passing through the apartment lobby, she recognized the mayor's voice coming from the small television and stopped to listen.

The reporter asked, "So Mayor Dent, if I want to get this passport and I have a parking ticket, should I be afraid to go to the police station to register for it?"

"No, of course not," Dent replied. The mayor and the reporter had laughed, in a way that only people who had never had more of a criminal record than a parking ticket could laugh about that question. "But those who want to hide anything from the police had better not bother trying to get that passport. If you want to travel freely in Gotham, you need to follow the rules. Those on the wrong side of the law can just stay where they are," Dent said authoritatively.

She felt the weight of his words and knew she was trapped. She couldn't go to the police to get the passport.

Annie felt the walls closing in around her. She was still making it to work, but her commute time had doubled. With the restrictions on travel that would soon become reality, it was clear to her that she would be losing her job.

She didn't know what to expect from the Joker, and after his fury when he had thrown her into the street, she wondered if perhaps he had finally given up on her. She cursed herself for her lack of self-control and the strange affection she felt for him.

And, it was somewhat easier to ignore her feelings, because a new problem was gradually taking all of her attention - she had developed a terrible cough in the weeks since the checkpoints had been destroyed, and it was getting exponentially worse by the day. It was her constant companion, keeping her up at night, taking away her appetite, and making it harder and harder to breath.

She decided that she had to try to make it to the hospital before the passport system restricted her travel. There were no major medical facilities in Lower Gotham, and now with the steady stream of people migrating away from that part of the city, the local clinics were closing without staff to operate them.

She got off the bus, happy to have finally arrived at the hospital. The cold breeze on her face felt refreshing after the hot, crowded bus, but as soon as the bitter air hit her lungs, a coughing fit began that doubled her over and forced her to stop walking. She recovered quickly, though, entering the lobby of Gotham General. The always-bustling hospital was even more crowded today, as the usual emergency room area had overflowed into the main lobby and several folding tables had been set up to handle the crowd. Everyone was afraid that Lower Gotham would be completely cut off from Upper Gotham and its hospitals, prompting people like Annie to come and receive care before that happened.

She got in line at the nearest table, trying to stay focused on the reason she was here in the turmoil of the busy room. She finally came to the front of the line, where she found two men, clearly stressed by the onslaught of people. The first one pulled out what looked like a checklist and invited her to sit down. "What are your symptoms?" he said promptly. She explained the constant coughing, but not being used to seeking medical care, didn't know exactly what to say that would point out the seriousness of her illness. The other man took out an oxygen monitor and placed it on her finger, getting a good reading on her levels. The two men looked at each other, deciding her fate.

The younger man filling out the checklist looked down and seemed to be tallying whatever he had recorded. "It looks like you don't qualify to be seen right now, but we would encourage you to come back in a week if your symptoms don't improve."

The polite sentence turned her stomach. She spoke hesitantly, even though she felt that the answer could be a matter of life and death for her. "I'm sorry, but I may not be able to travel here again after the passport system starts… this may be my last chance," she explained. The older man pulled the younger aside and asked Annie to excuse them for a moment.

"Did you hear her cough? She may have pneumonia, and you know how that could turn out if she doesn't get back here when it gets worse," said the older man quietly but urgently to the younger.

The young man pulled out the checklist, scanning it again. "We have to go by the rules, for everyone, that's the only way this is fair. You know that we are full for today anyway. We can't just keep squeezing people in. She scores under the urgent status, so she can't be seen."

"So what if she's really sick and wants to come back in a week. What if she's some gangster's girlfriend down there in Lower Gotham and he won't let her go to the police station to get the passport. What then? She's gonna die of pneumonia at whatever age she said, was it 27? And that's on us."

"We can't break the rules for one person, it's a slippery slope."

"Ok, Chris, but I'm taking my break. You go tell her no, I don't want any part of it."

The younger man came back to the table, sitting down slowly, clearly bringing bad news. "I'm sorry, miss, we only have room for urgent status patients today and you don't score in that range. Please come back next week if you are still having trouble and we will look at it again."

His repetition and controlled voice made it clear to her that he was not going to change his mind. She rarely expressed her anger, and she didn't do it in any obvious way now, but she gave him a cold stare as she stood up from the chair. She underestimated the power of her icy blue eyes. Her look of betrayal and hatred stayed with him, haunting him in the coming weeks.

She woke up, not knowing if it was morning or evening. Some sun shone through the windows into the messy apartment, but she couldn't remember when she had fallen asleep. She had given up most of her daily routine, and trash littered the floor. She had been here for a week now, since she had returned from her failed trip to the hospital. Her illness had worsened quickly after that outing, and she was no longer able to commute to work. Yesterday, she had received the call she knew she would be getting - Gotham Culinary had let her go due to her absence from her shifts.

She laid back down, her head spinning from recognizing her situation. The Joker's destabilization of Gotham certainly had given her more time, because the authorities were finding it harder and harder to extend their reach into her region of the city. However, at some point, the apartment manager or even the police would come remove her from the building. The movement of people away from Lower Gotham and the closure of businesses meant that it would be impossible to find other work. And entering Upper Gotham without a passport was now impossible.

The cough that had been nagging her for weeks broke out with particular ferocity, wracking her body and contracting her ribs painfully. She knew that there was no way she could get to the only open medical facilities in the city now, all in Upper Gotham. She had seen posters when she visited the hospital about mobile clinics traveling to Lower Gotham, but she knew they wouldn't show up near her for weeks.

And then there was the other thing - the Joker might return. Anything was possible with his mercurial personality. She had hidden her weakened condition from the men stationed outside, afraid that he might come to check on her. She tried to regain her composure and stifle her cough every time she left the apartment.

After her encounter with the Joker in the van, she was even more frightened of him, and she realized, also frightened of herself. How could she have been so brazen to reach her hand up to touch his hair? Why had she done that? Even now, part of her knew - part of her soul seemed to warm, thinking of the gentle pressure she felt when he had reached up and held her hand. She quickly snuffed the feelings out, her mind focusing on finding a way to avoid meeting him again.

She looked around at the small apartment. One thing was for sure - she didn't want to die here, a possibility that was seeming more and more real as her illness debilitated her day by day. She made the decision - she would walk out, walk into the depths of the Gotham winter. Somehow it seemed more free, more dignified, than the Joker's men finding her cold body days or weeks from now. She shuddered thinking of it.

She put on the boots reserved for her commutes to work and her long winter jacket. She knew she wouldn't last long, but tried to plan well, dressing warmly, wearing a hat, and taking some small provisions in her pockets. She didn't really want to admit to herself what she was doing - choosing her own death rather than letting it overtake her slowly.

She still locked the door behind her, instinctively, and slid the keys into her pocket. She didn't know if the Joker's men might be watching her from a distance - they usually weren't just outside her door these days, but she knew they were likely around somewhere. But that didn't matter, they would just think she was going out on an errand.

She maintained control of her emotions, walking out onto the unplowed streets. She quickly felt she had chosen correctly - the quiet beauty of the city covered in snow, with hardly any cars or vehicles, and very few pedestrians even, was exactly what her eyes had been craving. Many people had left this area since the food crisis and now the new passport system, and the terrible weather was keeping those who remained inside today.

The emptiness in front of her reminded her of bleak winters upstate as a child, when she was sometimes able to wonder off on her own and explore the broad fields and scraggly fencerows. As she embarked on the journey, though, the cold air began to tear through her lungs, making it harder and harder to breath. She felt an ominous rattle in her chest every time she exhaled. Her legs also felt much weaker than usual, and she quickly ran into trouble navigating the foot-deep snow all around her. It was the normal level of cold for Gotham but a surprisingly generous amount of snow.

Still, she felt somehow freer, having made a decision and leaving her destiny completely up to fate. She looked around her in all directions, realizing it made no difference which way she went. A quiet laugh escaped her, just from the absurdity of her hopeless situation. She couldn't see where the streets ended and the roads began with the fresh cushion of snow. She picked up her foot, closed her eyes, and half-spun around, letting it land wherever it would. She then followed that path, trudging through the empty whiteness of the abandoned streets.

Based on her condition, she was surprised at how far she made it. She just kept struggling against the snow as if she was fighting her own personal demons, until she simply couldn't anymore. She let herself fall back into its soft embrace, keeping her head and chest up by leaning back on her elbows until she was finally too tired for that too and let her head simply fall back into the waiting snow.

Memories flooded into her mind from the past, mostly of her childhood. Bleak as it was, she recalled moments of happiness too and smiled at the simple joys of early life. She thought over the more recent past and her endless struggles to claim some little piece of life in Gotham. Never-ending commutes to party venues, endless labor that exhausted her - why had she done it? The answer eluded her, turning into mist like many of her thoughts now were.

A flash of color illuminated her mind - then there was him - she had finally come around to the Joker. He travelled across her thoughts like he had strode into the ballroom that night - purple clad and with that red smile, reaching up all the way to the dark unreadable eyes. They flashed with such a fire - in her mind's eye, she began to see the flames crackling through the windows of the burning penthouse, after she had regained consciousness in the alleyway. Those warm flames, too dangerous to touch, but so beautiful, consuming everything… She felt suddenly warm, recalling how warm she had become when the Joker put his jacket around her, the heat seeming to enter her skin and travel all the way to her bones.

Why had she pushed him away? Didn't she want him to hold her, didn't she love feeling the pressure of his body on hers? She had struggled so hard against it - she smiled at her own foolishness - the only streak of color to ever enter her life, and she had run away from it. Now, she could let go, she had no reason to force away her tortured emotions. It was the end of her life. She held his fiery eyes, the sound of his voice, the texture of his clothes, she held them in her mind and dwelled on them, at last letting herself relish the thought of him and freely watch the greedy fires. She really did feel very warm. She managed to pull off her hat and unbutton her jacket, but her freezing fingers and exhausted body lost the ability to move further. She fell back again, her open eyes matching the unbroken blue of the winter sky. But in her mind, she saw only flames.

When his men let him know she left the apartment and had not returned that evening, it was as if he knew what had happened intuitively. He arrived outside her building within minutes. The cold, clear air filled his lungs, giving him new energy. The dark purple of his jacket stood in stark contrast to the pure white of the snow as he stopped there in the streetlight. The condensation of his breath hung momentarily in the air like smoke and the only sound was the muffled crunch of the snow under his feet.

He knew that time was limited. His men arrived. "Smith - take the route to Upper Gotham - Lutz - walk toward the shoreline - Fletcher, go toward the nearest store…"

He ordered them to follow all the logical paths that she might have traveled. He stood outside the apartment building in the snow, having dispatched his men and knowing she could be difficult, maybe even impossible, to find, especially with this sudden wind that had picked up, erasing her footprints.

Night had fallen and with it the brutal winds that sometimes tore through Gotham in the winter. Like a wolf tracking prey, he searched the white horizon with his keen eyes. He could see nothing, no indication of where she had trudged through the deep snow. It had eaten her tracks back up. He closed his eyes, pausing for a moment - and took a step. He had sent his men on all the paths that made sense - he would take this one that fate had simply chosen for him.

He began the trek straight ahead, shielding his face from the blowing snow that the wind had picked up. His hair blew freely, but his gloves and coat provided enough warmth to keep him going. He ploughed ahead, growing more and more concerned that no one had found her yet. He didn't think she would get this far.

Then he saw it - the black material of her jacket, visible above the white horizon. He ran over to where she lay, his eyes opening wide. She was reclined, with snow now freely blowing over her and inside her open jacket, her hair strewn out in hazel strands, contrasting with the blank white of the snow. Her eyes were open, and her face was completely peaceful - the slightest smile was formed on her blanched lips and the usual stress that animated her features was gone.

If he were a kinder man, he would have left her there, in peaceful repose. But he was not a kind man.

He kneeled beside her and began to slap her face - first gently, and then more severely. "Annie! Come back to me!" he commanded, his voice echoing emptily in the deserted streets. He shook her body, trying to see if any life was left there. The tiniest twitch of her expression showed him that there might be hope. He tried to brush what snow he could off of her, and lifted her up like a child. He walked with long strides, seemingly oblivious to the depth of the snow, to the nearest building. It looked uninhabited. He took the gun out of his jacket and broke the glass with the handle until it was completely out of the way, and stepped inside. It looked like an abandoned hair salon. He set her down as gently as he could in a large chair.

He was on the phone. "Yeah, get the helicopter, that's what I said. Gotham General, that's right. The southeast wing, I want everyone out but the doctors and nurses." He hung up, looking at her and wondering what he could do. He had gotten them out of the wind, that was something. He took the gun out of his pocket and placed it in his waistband on his back, quickly taking off his coat and wrapping it around her.

She began to stir, her expression slowly turning from peaceful to confused. "Where am I?" she asked hoarsely.

"You're… safe. You're with me, I'm taking you to the hospital."

Her confusion only seemed to grow. "I can't see very well."

"It will get better," he said, standing above her, alarmed to see the blue eyes darting back and forth but happy to see her begin to come back to herself. The effort of talking suddenly sparked a coughing fit, and her previously still body rocked with raspy coughs.

"Jesus, Annie," he murmured under his breath. The coughing finally ended.

"How did you find me?" she asked.

"Just by chance," he answered.

He ran to the blown-out window. He heard the helicopter he had expected in the distance. His men were lucky they had been able to come through for him.

"Ok, let's go," he said. Her confusion only grew, but she had already given up to fate when she stepped out of her apartment that day. She simply let him hand her limp body over to the man in the helicopter. The Joker followed after her, stepping in just as the helicopter took off again, lifting off of the white blanket of snow and leaving Lower Gotham behind. Her vision was blurred, but she could hear the rotors and feel the movement of the chopper as they sped over the city toward Gotham General.

The chaos in the southeast wing of the hospital had calmed somewhat by the time they arrived. Most of the staff and patients had been moved to other sections of the building. Things seemed to be in general disarray as they wheeled Annie down the hall. The Joker let them take her to a room to assess her condition. He knew they'd need to start IV fluids and probably antibiotics immediately.

After a short time, the staff seemed to finish their work and were filtering out of the area. The Joker strode into the small room, the remaining staff staring at him, terrified. They quickly slid along the walls to the exit, and he did nothing to stop them. He closed the door after the last one departed and looked at her. She was awake, staring up at the ceiling. He sat in the visitor's chair near her bed.

"Annie, don't go on any more of these vision quests please," he said in a frustrated voice. "Was it worth it? What did you see?" He sat back in the chair, reclining. "Did you see the angels coming down for you?" He put his hands together and fluttered his fingers like a child imitating a butterfly.

She focused on speaking with significant difficulty.

"I saw you."

Saying the words seemed to exhaust her and she closed her eyes.

It was his turn to be silent. He reached over toward her hand lying so peacefully on her chest, and then seemed to have a second thought and drew his arm back suddenly. Her eyes remained closed. He got up. "Ok, kitten, I'm going to make sure they take good care of you. I have to go now, it's a … liability for me to be here. We'll figure out a way to get you out when you are better.

"Listen, this is your id and wallet. You are Sarah Lilton now. You need to keep yourself anonymous, or else you'll become collateral. Sarah can disappear when you leave here, and that way you don't have to. Do you understand?"

She nodded her head, too tired to speak more.

He placed the wallet under her shoulder and slipped out of the room.

He strode down the hallway to the nurse's station where he had told them to gather hospital staff. Several of his men were there corralling the staff and doctors into the area.

"Who's in charge here?" said the Joker, and was greeted by silence. It was clear to him who the others were trying not to look at. "It must be you, Dr… - what's your name?"

"Dr. Breall." the man said stiltedly. The Joker rolled two of the nurses' chairs to face each other.

"Ok, Dr. Breall," he said in a sing-song voice. "Why don't you have a seat and update me on Miss Lilton's condition?" He sat down and quickly motioned for the doctor to sit in the other chair.

Dr. Breall licked his lips nervously and took his place in the chair. "It looks like… it looks like she does have hypothermia, which is a serious condition but she is conscious - it's likely she'll come out of it. The pneumonia she likely has is more difficult - her age will work in her favor, and antibiotics should bring her around, but she is close to septicemia with how extensive the illness is… there are no guarantees in medicine…"

The Joker had the knife out in the next second, moving it from one hand to the other, feeling the blade with his fingertips. "You know, Dr. Breall, I'm very familiar with the outsides of bodies. I know exactly where to cut for a slow death or a quick one. I might make a great surgeon actually - you know, let's find out." The rage grew in his voice as he continued: "How about if she doesn't get better, I'll get those nurses over there to help me, and we'll cut you open so I can see how the insides work. Maybe I'll rearrange things a little. We'll do an experiment - we'll see how long you stay alive." He closed his mouth and opened it again, sucking his cheek to make a loud pop that was especially unsettling. "Got it?"

"Yes, got it," the man said, sitting up a little taller. The Joker motioned to him to get up by flicking the knife. The doctor began yelling orders to the nurses, running down the hallway to her hospital room.

The Joker, a slow smile beginning to appear on his face, walked down the hallway to the exit. He'd abandoned the helicopter, knowing the police would now be looking for it. He had a nondescript car waiting below that wouldn't be noticed in the mass exodus from the hospital.

(The purple ink turned out to pretty much be pink, which was not what I was hoping for, but I did fix the auto focus this time. )

Additional notes: Fun fact, I actually had pneumonia when I wrote some of the scenes from this part a couple of months ago. Fully recovered now!

This is fanfic, so of course I don't own any characters from The Dark Knight (Joker, Batman, etc.). The main female character is original.

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