#calling motivated sellers

[kcamberart]

Vollema is coming out exactly one week from now (on Steam, even) so I'm comparing some of the different games I've made since I first started learning. A lot has changed, and a lot hasn't changed at all.

[cosmicheartz]

Runaway Narinder aus are a rlly fun concept but I’m surprised I haven’t seen one where Lamb just doesn’t particularly care that he’s gone.

Usually the Lamb is like obsessed with Narinder and doesn’t let him leave and when he does they try to find him again and bring him back to the cult ( and I’m not rlly any different bc with my other lamb Maveths main canon he is actively searching for Narinder after his escape )

[isthattyra]

Sweet Beginnings

terry richmond x black reader

“I’m just saying, why should I have to go to the gym when I can get my workout done here?” you say, flexing dramatically as you scooped dough onto a baking sheet. The smell of vanilla and brown sugar filled the cozy kitchen, making your argument even sweeter.

Terry leaned against the counter, arms crossed over his broad chest, his lips twitching into a grin. “Baby, I’m inviting you to the gym, not drafting you into a strongman competition. Besides I never said you had to work out. I just want to see your pretty face, it gives me motivation”

You smirked, not missing a beat. “I can do arm curls here. You see me scooping this dough, don’t you? And kneading earlier? That’s a full upper body workout.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And cardio?”

“Mixing counts. Ever tried to beat butter and sugar by hand? That’s endurance right there. And don’t you think we get enough cardio done together?” You said recalling the last few nights spent with Terry that had you sweating and out of breath like you’d just run a marathon. 

“ I guess you got me on that but I didn’t hear any complaints from that so called workout” he said shutting you right on up.

“Besides, this dough won’t scoop itself. Speaking of which…” you motioned to the oatmeal cookies on a baking sheet. “You’d never have gotten these if I hadn’t saved you at the store.”

“Saved me? That’s a stretch.”

“Oh, come on! You were ready to give up eating plain old oatmeal like the old man you are for the week until I swooped in.”

Flashback

Your banter had started over a year ago, on the day you met. You had just started selling your baked goods to people besides your family. It was the week before you planned to work the weekend farmers market and you were trying to make sure you had all your ingredients ready.

It had been an ordinary afternoon at the grocery store, you had been searching for a bulk container of oatmeal for your iced oatmeal cookie recipe which was one of your best sellers. Finally coming across in it the aisle, seeing only one container. Barely paying attention as you scrolled on your phone, you reached for it at the exact same moment a large, calloused hand did.

“Oh!” you said, startled, looking up. The hand belonged to a tall, fit man with warm greyish blue/green eyes and a teasing smile. He pulled back slightly, letting you take the container.

“Go ahead,” he said with a chuckle. “I’m not about to fight you for oatmeal.”

“That’s very gentlemanly of you,” you replied, trying to hide your embarrassment. “But are you sure? It looked like you needed it too.” 

His dedication to maintaining his beautiful body had been evident in his cart full of proteins and veggies.

He large shoulders shrugged. “It’s for my meal prep. But I’ll survive.” He paused, then added with a sly grin, “If you promise me a batch of whatever you’re making and your name,I’ll consider it even.”

You couldn’t help but to laugh as you tell him your name “Brown butter iced oatmeal cookies. And… deal.” Not wanting to have to deliver to a random stranger, no matter how fine he was, you suggested he meet you at the local farmers market that weekend. 

“Here’s my card in case you can’t make it, you can send me an email to place an order”

Not only did he show up, he was there before you were. Even going so far as to help you unload your car and set up your tables and tent. It was nice to have someone to help since your best friend had bailed on you last minute. Bonus that the help was so nice to look at. You’d never been so jealous of a table, watching as he lifted it so easily onto his back not straining even once.

Terry stayed at your table until everything sold out, helping you to pack everything up too. He was only able to buy one oatmeal cookie even though you tried to argue that he didn’t need to pay.

“Now I feel like I owe you again, I appreciate all your help today and for taking up so much of your time” you stated feeling bad. All this man wanted was some oatmeal and now he’s been put to work

“It’s no problem at all, I enjoyed the cookies and I learned a lot about the baking business too” he said smiling showing all 32 of his pearly whites

“Well before you go I have something for you” reaching in the front seat of your car grabbing the specially wrapped box. “ I knew the cookies would sell fast so I made sure to put a batch aside for you, after all that was the deal”. the smirk growing on your face 

His smirk matching yours “It definitely was. Thank you, I’ll try not to eat them all in one siting” 

“Good luck with that,” you said. “They’re addictive.”

“I don’t doubt it.” He leaned back slightly, his eyes lingering on you for a moment. “You know, I think I got the better end of this deal. A whole batch of cookies, and nice morning spent with beautiful company”

You could help to laugh, shaking your head. “Well, now you’re just showing off your charm, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” he said, his grin widening. “But it’s working, isn’t it?”

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your chest was impossible to ignore. “Drive safe, Terry. And maybe I can get you to try one of my other cookies next time you’re here.”

“Next time, huh?” He opened his truck door but paused, his eyes locking with yours . “I like the sound of that.”

With that, he climbed into the truck , leaving you standing there with a smile you couldn’t seem to shake.

True to his word, Terry showed up at the next farmers market. And the one after that. By the third week, it wasn’t just a casual visit—he was there early, carrying boxes, helping set up your booth, and sticking around to take it all down at the end of the day.

“You know,” you said one morning as you unloaded your car together, “I didn’t realize free cookies came with a labor contract.”

Terry chuckled, setting down a tablecloth. “I think I got the better end of the deal. The cookies are a bonus. You, though? You’re worth showing up for.”

You couldn’t help but to feel butterflies flutter in your stomach and somewhere else, but you just  rolled your eyes to play it off. “Flattery will only get you more cookies, you know.” He didn’t have to know you also meant another set of cookies. 

“Good,” he said, his grin crooked and confident. “I’ll take them.”

By the fifth farmers market, his presence had become so natural that when he wasn’t there for a moment—late grabbing tea for you both—you realized how much you’d come to expect him by your side.

That day, while packing up the last of your supplies, you worked up the courage to ask. “So… I was thinking. Since you’re already giving up your Saturdays to help me here, maybe I could steal another evening from you?”

Terry straightened, his eyes bright with interest. “Are you asking me out, Y/N?”

“Maybe I am,” you said, smiling as you shut the trunk. “Dinner this Friday?”

“Absolutely,” he said, his grin matching yours. 

Flashback end

Now, a year and a new bakery storefront later, you were finishing up making a batch of your still best seller. Now renamed The Terry, you had to make double sometimes triple and would still sell out fast. 

Terry still helping out but now in the shop, had seen you struggle a little to lift the big bag of flour and had suggested showing you some arm strengthening workouts.

“Well if someone didn’t have my arms in a position they’re not usually in I would have been fine lifting the flour. Besides not everyone has the strength to be out here lifting tree logs.”

Terry laughed, the deep rumble making you glance up. “Baby, when have you ever seen me lift a log? And also it was your idea to try it out”

You shrugged ignoring the second part of his comment. “Maybe it happened in a dream once.”

He shook his head, amusement clear in his eyes. “That imagination of yours…” He leaned down to kiss your cheek while swiping a cookie on his way out.

You grinned and turned back to your task, the sound of the spoon scraping against the bowl filling the space.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

The health industry’s invisible hand is a fist

On June 21, I'm doing an ONLINE READING for the LOCUS AWARDS at 16hPT. On June 22, I'll be in OAKLAND, CA for a panel and a keynote at the LOCUS AWARDS.

The US has the rich world's most expensive health care system, and that system delivers the worst health outcomes of any country in the rich world. Also, the US is unique in relying on market forces as the primary regulator of its health care system. All of these facts are related!

Capitalism's most dogmatic zealots have a mystical belief in the power of markets to "efficiently allocate" goods and services. For them, the process by which goods and services are offered and purchased performs a kind of vast, distributed computation that "discovers the price" of everything. Our decisions to accept or refuse prices are the data that feeds this distributed computer, and the signals these decisions send about our desires triggers investment decisions by sellers, which guides the whole system to "equilibrium" in which we are all better off.

There's some truth to this: when demand for something exceeds the supply, prices tend to go up. These higher prices tempt new sellers into the market, until demand is met and prices fall and production is stabilized at the level that meets demand.

But this elegant, self-regulating system rarely survives contact with reality. It's the kind of simplified model that works when we're hypothesizing about perfectly spherical cows of uniform density on a frictionless surface, but ceases to be useful when it encounters a messy world of imperfect rationality, imperfect information, monopolization, regulatory capture, and other unavoidable properties of reality.

For members of the "efficient market" cult, reality's stubborn refusal to behave the way it does in their thought experiments is a personal affront. Panged by cognitive dissonance, the cult members insist that any market failures in the real world are illusions caused by not doing capitalism hard enough. When deregulation and markets fail, the answer is always more deregulation and more markets.

That's the story of the American health industry in a nutshell. Rather than accepting that people won't shop for the best emergency room while unconscious in an ambulance, or that the "clearing price" of "not dying of cancer" is "infinity," the cult insists that America's worst-in-class, most expensive health system just needs more capitalism to turn it into a world leader.

In the 1980s, Reagan's court sorcerers decreed that they could fix health care with something called "Prospective Payment Systems," which would pay hospitals a lump sum for treating conditions, rather than reimbursing them for each procedure, using competition and profit motives to drive "efficiency." The hospital system responded by "upcoding' patients: if you showed up with a broken leg and a history of coronary disease, they would code you as a heart patient and someone who needed a cast. They'd collect both lump sums, slap a cast on you, and wheel you out the door:

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4195137/

As Robert Kuttner writes for The American Prospect, this kind of abuse was predictable from the outset, especially since Health and Human Services is starved of budget for auditors and can only hand out "slaps on the wrist" when they catch a hospital ripping off the system:

https://prospect.org/economy/2024-06-13-fantasyland-general/

Upcoding isn't limited to Medicare fraud, either. Hospitals and insurers are locked in a death-battle over payments, and hospitals' favorite scam is sending everyone to the ER, even when they don't have emergencies (some hospitals literally lock all the doors except for the ER entrance). That way, a normal, uncomplicated childbirth can be transformed into a "Level 5" emergency treatment (the highest severity of emergency) and generate a surprise bill of over $2,700:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/10/27/crossing-a-line/#zero-fucks-given

The US health industry is bad enough to generate a constant degree of political will for change, but the industry (and its captured politicians and regulators) is also canny enough to dream up an endless procession of useless gimmicks designed to temporarily bleed off the pressure for change. In 2018, HHS passed a rule requiring hospitals to publish their prices.

Hospitals responded to this with a shrewd gambit: they simply ignored the rule. So in 2021, HHS made another rule, creating penalties for ignoring the first rule:

https://www.cms.gov/priorities/key-initiatives/hospital-price-transparency/hospitals

The theory here was that publishing prices would create "market discipline." Again, this isn't wholly nonsensical. To the extent that patients have nonurgent conditions and the free time to shop around, being able to access prices will help them. Indeed, if the prices are in a standards-defined, machine-readable form, patients and their advocates could automatically import them, create price-comparison sites, leaderboards, etc. None of this addresses the core problem that health-care is a) a human right and b) not a discretionary expense, but it could help at the margins.

But there's another wrinkle here. The same people who claim that prices can solve all of our problems also insist that monopolies are impossible. They've presided over a decades-long assault on antitrust law that has seen hospitals, pharma companies, insurers, and a menagerie of obscure middlemen merge into gigantic companies that are too big to fail and too big to jail. When a single hospital system is responsible for the majority of care in a city or even a county, how much punishment can regulators realistically subject it to?

Not much, as it turns out. Kuttner describes how Mass Gen Brigham cornered the market on health-care in Boston, allowing it to flout the rules on pricing. In addition to standard tricks – like charging self-pay patients vastly more than insured payments (because individuals don't have the bargaining power of insurers), Mass Gen Brigham's price data is a sick joke.

See for yourself! The portal will send you giant, unstructured, ZIPped text files filled with cryptic garbage like:

ADJUSTABLE C TAPER NECK PLUS|1|UNITED HEALTHCARE [1016]|HB CH UNITED HMO / PPO / INDEMNITY [34]|UNITED HEALTHCARE HMO [101604]|75|Inv Loc: 1004203; from OR location 1004203|52.02|Inpatient PAF; 69.36% Billed|75|Inv Loc: 1004203; from OR location 1004203|56.87|Outpatient PAF; 75.83% Billed

https://www.massgeneralbrigham.org/en/patient-care/patient-visitor-information/billing/cms-required-hospital-charge-data

These files have tens of thousands of rows. As a patient, you are meant to parse through these in order to decide whether you're getting ripped off on that HIP STEM 16X203MM SIZE 4 FEMORAL PRESS FIT NEUTRAL REVISION TITANIUM you're in the market for (as it happens, I have two of these in my body).

Kuttner describes the surreal lengths he had to go through to prevent his mother from getting ripped off by Mass Gen through an upcoding hustle. By coding her as "admitted for observation," Mass Gen was able to turn her into an outpatient, with a 20% co-pay (this is down to a GW Bush policy that punishes hospitals that charge Medicare for inpatient care when they could be treated as outpatients – hospitals reflexively game the system to make every patient an outpatient, even if they have overnight hospital stays).

Kuttner's an expert on this: he was national policy correspondent for the New England Journal of Medicine and covers the health beat for the Prospect. Even so, it took him ten hours of phone calls to two doctors' offices and Blue Cross to resolve the discrepancy. The average person is not qualified to do this – indeed, the average person won't even know they've been upcoded.

Needless to say that people in other countries – countries where health care is cheaper and the outcomes are better – are baffled by this. Canadians, Britons, Australians, Germans, Finns, etc do not have to price-shop for their care. They don't have to hawkishly monitor their admission paperwork for sneaky upcodes. They don't have to spend ten hours on the phone arguing about esoteric billing practices.

In a rational world, we'd compare the American system to the rest of the world and say, "Well, they've figured it out, we should do what they're doing." But in good old U-S-A! U-S-A! U-S-A!, the answer to this is more prices, more commercialization, more market forces. Just rub some capitalism on it!

That's where companies like Multiplan come in: this is a middleman that serves other middlemen. Multiplan negotiates prices on behalf of insurers, and splits the difference between the list price and the negotiated price with them:

https://www.nytimes.com/2024/04/07/us/health-insurance-medical-bills.html

But – as the Arm and a Leg podcast points out – this provides the perverse incentive for Multiplan to drive list prices up. If the list price quintuples, and then Multiplan drives it back down to, say, double the old price, they collect more money. Meanwhile, your insurer sticks you with the bill, over and above your deductible and co-pay:

https://armandalegshow.com/episode/multiplan/

The Multiplan layer doesn't just allow insurers to rip you off (though boy does it allow insurers to rip you off), it also makes it literally impossible to know what the price is going to be before you get your procedure. As with any proposition bet, the added complexity is there to make it impossible for you to calculate the odds and figure out if you're getting robbed:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/05/04/house-always-wins/#are-you-on-drugs

Multiplan is the purest expression of market dynamics brainworms I've yet encountered: solving the inefficiencies created by the complexity of a system with too many middlemen by adding another middle-man who is even more complex.

No matter what the problem is with America's health industry, the answer is always the same: more markets! Are older voters getting pissed off at politicians for slashing Medicare? No problem: just create Medicare Advantage, where old people can surrender their right to government care and place themselves in the loving hands of a giant corporation that makes more money by denying them care.

The US health industry is a perfect parable about the dangers of trusting shareholder accountable markets to do the work of democratically accountable governments. Shareholders love monopolies, so they drove monopolization throughout the health supply chain. As David Dayen writes in his 2020 book Monopolized the pharma industry monopolized first, and put the screws to hospitals:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/01/29/fractal-bullshit/#dayenu

Hospitals formed regional monopolies to counter the seller power of consolidated Big Pharma. That's Mass Gen's story: tapping the capital markets to buy other hospitals in the region until it became too big to fail and too big to jail (and too big to care). Consolidated hospitals, in turn, put the screws to insurers, so they also consolidated, fighting Big Hospital's pricing power.

Monopoly at any point in a supply chain leads to monopoly throughout the supply chain. But patients can't consolidate (that's what governments are for – representing the diffuse interests of people). Neither can health workers (that's what unions are for). So the system screwed everyone: patients paid more for worse care. Health workers put in longer hours under worse conditions and got paid less.

Kuttner describes how his eye doctor races from patient to patient "as if he was on roller skates." When Kuttner wrote him a letter questioning the quality of care, the eye doctor answered that he understood that he was giving his patients short shrift, but explained that he had to, because his pay was half what he needed, relegating him to a small apartment and an old car. The hospital – which skims the payments he gets for care – sets his caseload, and he can't turn down patients.

The answers to this are obvious: get markets out of health care. Unionize health workers. Give regulators the budgets and power to hold health corporations to account.

But for market cultists, all of that can't work. Instead, we have to create more esoteric middlemen like "pharmacy benefit managers" and Multiplan. We need more prices to shovel into the market computer's data-hopper. If we just capitalism hard enough, surely the system will finally work…someday.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/13/a-punch-in-the-guts/#hayek-pilled

[thegreenlynx]

Durian Master List

Description: You are a famous author hiding your true identity from the public. Hyunjin is an aspiring artist. Your books are his motivation and the inspiration for his art. He loves them so much he's read all of them over a dozen times. They saved him once before and now when a wave of misfortune knocks him down to rock bottom, will you be able to save him once again?

Pairing: Distressed Fanboy Hyunjin x Author Fem Reader

Genre: Light Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort

Content Warnings: financial problems, depressing themes, suggestive and sexual content, past seungmin x reader, reader uses an alias name as an author but is otherwise referred to as y/n, more to be added as they come up

Status: Ongoing…(Generally updated on Mondays)

A/N: Based on this poll, This fic is the first installment of a larger series I am writing called Best Seller. I have yet to post the master list for it but I will put the link here when I do.

Master List

Chapter 1: Lost Hope

Chapter 2: A New Story

Chapter 3: A Light in the Dark

Chapter 4: Mr. Fix It 🔜

Chapter 5: Longing Over Distance 🔜

SKZ Works

Taglist: empty

[lady-byleth]

So I remembered that a criticism of Mononoke was that the first arc seemed to be pretty heavily anti-abortion and I actually went the same way, which I really didn't like cuz it seemed counter to the overall fairly feminist tone of the show

I mean, even the original bake neko arc dealt heavily with violence and sexual abuse against women specifically, and the show is quite vocal about what issues women face in society. Like, we have a woman breaking free from abuse, a woman being looked down on for the profession she chose by her male superior, a woman looked down on for not being celibate after losing her husband...and the show is very clear "the ones on the other side of that are the bad ones, not the women in those situations". In this context the anti-choice thing felt weird.

But I just rewatched the original bake neko arc of Ayakashi and realized something that actually changes the whole tone of the arc for me

The Medicine Seller, when investigating the mononoke, asks the Sakai household if they think Tamaki's regret possessed the cat, making it the vicious mononoke we see

It's explained fairly often that mononoke are ayakashi that are influenced by negative human emotions so what we can extrapolate is that the ayakashi can exist before and sort of evolve once they encounter emotions strong enough, though that's not always the case cuz we've seen humans (and a cat) become mononoke as well

That's not important though, what's important is the ayakashi part

In the bake neko's case it was that the cat itself died with regrets and Tamaki's suffering turned it into the mononoke. It's explicitly the human emotions that are the problem and they don't necessarily have to even be connected to the ayakashi itself. He says that the motivations don't have to make sense, because they don't think like we do.

What that means for the zashiki warashi arc is that the brothel must have been a regular beacon of despair with how many abortions were forced on women there (just look at the walls literally filled with dead babies), attracted the zashiki warashi, which are usually spirits of children that are supposed to bring good fortune, and the mothers' pain, grief and rage twisted them into what we see

Of course, the characters themselves wouldn't know that a fetus isn't capable of having such complex feelings, and the show is fairly good at keeping the characters time period accurate, so they think it's the babies themselves. But it's what the mothers felt and wished for, because it's those kinds of emotions that create mononoke

And Shino, who so desperately wants her baby to be born and thinks it does as well, would of course trigger the mononoke into the roaring rampage of revenge that calls the Medicine Seller to the Inn

Additionally, the zashiki warashi seem to have been steeped in those emotions so long they've made them their own, which ends up making them believe they are those babies and that in turn would be enough for the sword

This is convoluted and yet logical enough to be entirely in character for the show, so I really think this is what they were going for.

[novlr]

i'm writing a character who is a serial killer but not willingly if that makes sense. like, she kills once she finds that she finds herself in a murder or be murdered type of situation.

like in one scene, her mother's ex boyfriend comes back to try and get back together with her, but finds her daughter instead so he tries to s/a her but she stabs him and he bleeds out.

then in another scene she get's jumped by two guys and she stabs them both to death as well.

so i'm just wondering if you have any tips for writing such a complex character who kills but feels bad about it before, during and after the fact.

she doesn't enjoy the act of murder. she doesn't get off on it. she simply on kills so she can survive.

thanks so much!

This is a topic very close to my heart! I have a bachelor’s degree in criminal justice and a master’s degree in forensic psychology, both from accredited U.S. institutions. No fictional murder best-sellers under my belt, but it’s a topic I know a lot about. 

Sometimes, people kill for reasons that aren’t nefarious. There’s the cut-and-dry self defense (“it’s me or them”), the culmination of years of abuse, or sometimes it’s completely an accident (which is called “involuntary manslaughter”). 

Murder mysteries and thrillers are top-notch reads and go hand-in-hand with pop culture’s fascination with true crime. But what goes into writing an accidental serial killer, or one that’s more upstanding than you’d think? 

Define your morals

In order to establish morally gray, you’ve got to set the good and evil boundaries within the world you’re writing. Is it a modern-day story, where a cold-blooded killer is the evil one and a person defending themselves against an attacker is the good one? Or is it a more intricate fantasy or science fiction setting, where the laws and morals aren’t quite the same? 

The important part of writing a morally gray character, in general, is establishing the normal bounds of morality in your story world and then placing the character’s values somewhere in the middle. They’re not looking to hunt other people for fun, but the act also wasn’t a noble defense or socially acceptable resolution to the problem. I think that’s the hardest part, building enough plausibility and setting up empathy for the character’s actions while still writing them as a ‘villain’.

The vigilante

The easiest example of a morally gray killer is the vigilante. Typically, their motive comes from a righteous or judicial point of view, and they’re killing the “evil” ones. These types are taking out drug dealers, abusers, or anyone committing what they consider to be egregious or immoral acts. They perform bad actions to do good. 

Doing bad things for good reasons is often considered “lawful evil”, wherein a character is still following rules but they’re doing so in a ‘bad’ way. That circles us back to the beginning; there should still be a compelling reason for their actions. That’s what pushes their assigned morality back from ‘black’ into the ‘gray zone’. 

Crossing the lines

Consider what factors or events‌ would persuade a character to act in a worse or better way as a one-off circumstance, or a trigger that sways their actions. Perhaps they won’t kill parents, no matter what brought them into that position; maybe violence against women will often trigger a violent episode. 

Gray, on the moral scale, has the obligation to be interesting — so don’t think too hard about staying within neutral territory. Swing one way or the other occasionally with good narrative build-up and support to really bring out the character’s individuality. 

What if it’s always an accident?

Maybe your character is frequently caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, but they always manage to come out on top. What do you do then?

It’s first necessary to define a serial killer. Definitionally, a serial killer is a person that commits multiple murders. Murder being the key word — it must be on purpose for the act to fall on that definition. Otherwise it’s manslaughter (which is an incidental death where even if harm was meant, death was not). I can’t stress this enough: by definition, you can’t have a serial killer whose only kills were in self-defense or accidental. Your character must progress to proactive murder on more than one occasion for them to be considered a serial killer. 

Of course, that’s not to say you can’t have other characters (or even their inner monologue) refer to them as a serial killer. Social knowledge rarely sees eye-to-eye with legal or academic terms and definitions. I just caution you against using ‘serial killer’ in marketing material or descriptive collateral, if this is the case. It is a technically inaccurate descriptor, and someone waiting for that switch from accidental to purposeful is going to be sorely disappointed when it never happens. 

It could, however, be a great plot device to start there and explore the character’s evolution from unfortunate events to intentional murder. Maybe they were targeted for multiple violent crimes, and one day decided to be proactive and preemptively solve their problem (via murder, of course). 

Avoid the Angel of Death

While a vigilante may be a good character type for the morally gray serial killer, the Angel of Death is not. This type of killer is looking for personal gratification by taking someone’s life into their own hands. More often than not, the Angel of Death is looking to make themselves a hero by saving the day, and the deaths are secondary (and a sign of their failure). I’ll admit that the line between “personal gratification” and “justice” can be a thin one.

 The important distinction to keep in mind here are the moral definitions you’ve created: I can’t argue that an Angel of Death is serving any higher purpose than their own desire to cause situations where they might be a hero. It’s like hiring a hitman to take out a target, but intercepting the hitman just in time to save the target. The entire situation is at the mercy of the character; there’s no justice in the actions, no redeeming qualities. They don’t feel bad for sending the hitman — the outcome was planned from the start. And if they can’t beat the hitman? Oh well, better luck next time. 

Convincing the reader that the protagonist has a good (“enough”) reason for their actions is key to achieving the moral middle ground. A reasonable, morally upstanding person probably won’t resort to the character’s actions, but they understand how the thought process could bring them where they are. The Angel of Death is fabricating the entire situation; a morally gray killer should be working towards a goal, or acting on a strong reason. 

The morally gray serial killer isn’t looking to win anyone over, or get a standing ovation for their good deeds. They’re killing for a reason — a reason that wouldn’t normally drive someone to kill, but the reader can see how they got from point A to point B in the thought process. 

written by S.K. Eleteon

[rosmerie-starr]

okay I'm back for the second round I didn't get art block BUT I did get writers block so.. Um.. Yeah ^_^ atleast I can rest easy knowing the rest WILL be shorter I'm gonna start keeping track of my yaps

Anyways here's the one and only Narinder!!

Lamb | Narinder

(Lore under cut ^_^)

Street Cat and Early Godhood

Narinder never truly knew where he came from. As long as she remembered, she had been just running wild through the forests of the lands of the old faith as an orphan, hunting for birds to hunt and bugs to gobble down like candy. He ran free and feral, no rules to hold him down, not limited to anything. It seemed like during these times he wasn't destined for anything at all, but honestly, that was fine  by him. He was just a kid after all, and considering that his biggest concern at the time was figuring out if he was going to have bird or spider for dinner that day, he didn't really have the time or patience to think about what he was going to do in his future.

One day, he struck gold while going on for a walk and finding a campsite that had conveniently left their food out cooking for the night. Since he hadn't had much luck that day and he was really hungry, he figured that the people that lived there wouldn't mind if he took a bite or two of their food. As such, the people in that campsite, which happened to be Shamura and Kallamar, were not so happily awoken by a stray cat going absolutely ham on their rations. However, since it was clear this creature was a kid, a kid without a home to call their own, they were more than happy to take him in.

It seemed to be a common trend of Shamura just taking care of whatever stray they randomly found lying down, but there will be more on that later.

Sure enough, eventually , the group of three became a group of five, and they just wandered around the lands of the old faith looking for a nice place to spend the night. They were as broke as broke could be, but it didn't matter because they were much together. Most of the days were spent by Shamura and Kallamar breaking up from the group to find something to eat while Narinder was tasked with taking care of his younger siblings Heket and Leshy. If he were to be so honest, life was good. She didn't have that many responsibilities and everyone generally had a good relationship with each other.

One day, however, as they traveled around, they came across a barren battlefield where it seems some gods threw hands in previously (since obviously, the war of the gods was going on). Conveniently, in the field, next to the bodies that were already pretty late into decomposition, were the crowns that would later become the crowns of the 5 bishops of the old faith. 

Narinder didn't see the crowns as much but random dooikeys that were left behind. But, however, when he put one on a a joke to pretend to be a king infront of younger siblings and he was unable to take it off, it seemed that it went deeper than that.

Shamura could call it destiny, Heket said it was coincidence, and Naridner honestly didn't know how to feel, but either way, it didn't matter. The five siblings were set on their track to become gods. Albeit, Narinder doesn't remember much about this time of her life because it just seemed like trial after trial in order to prove herself to the Mystic Seller who seemingly oversaw new gods and prepared them in order to be able to actually maintain godhood. Either ways, just like the rest of his siblings, he was crowned a god, and soon enough, Shamura led them all to kill all the other gods of the lands of the old faith and make the group of siblings the last 5 standing and in turn, the most feared gods. 

Narinder never really understood the motive to do that, but whatever.

Banishment 

Life was supposed to be good as a god. At least that what they told him. But something was missing

Much like in cannon, Narinder was jealous of the fact that all his siblings could turn their negatives into positives (Ie: famine becomes bountiful harvest and so on and so forth), yet he was stuck with only a constant negative, which was death. There is truly nothing good about death. But also, he just generally carved to change. He didn't know what he wanted to change, if it was routine or rules or lifestyle of herself even, but he just craved change. Extremely baldy. So he consulted the smartest person he knew, which was Shamura, and asked them for help, but only help with his first worry (he was too shy to admit the second one). Eventually after tinkering around with what Nari could and couldn’t do, they together, managed to bestow mortals immortality. Although Shamura saw it as a negative thing, Nari saw it positively. He could have subjects that could live forever, and if they dare so betray him or his siblings, he could take it back as easily as he could give this gift. Plus, what mortal doesn’t crave to live forever? So against Shamuras wishes, he began gifting the most devoted of his subjects this power. This is when Shamura decided to stop this nonsense bceause all their followers were going to narinders side and the other siblings began to lose faith in their own circles and They rallied their other siblings to get Naris ass by banishing him

The memory of the fight still haunts Narinder to this day. Mayhaps right now it’s not the right time to talk about it (oaky this is an excuse rb bc I’m lazy ummm DW DW I’ll go into detail about this in the profiles of the other bishops.)

And before she knew it, she ended up in the white void and was destined to live a lonely life for seemingly the rest of milenina. Out of pity did Shamura give them a new robe and Aym and Baal, but that was the last she would hear from any of her siblings for what seemed to be forever.

Eventually, life moved on, and everyone but the most dediacted of Narinder followers forgot about him and his presence as one of the bishops. To the world, Narinder was truly dead.

Incarceration and Present

Honestly, raising Aym and Baal was the only thing that kept Narinder from going absolutely mental. Because he had someone(s) to talk to and take care of, it placed a lot of responsibility of himself and the kits on him, and a feeling that if he did go insane there wouldn't be anyone to take care of them. Time in the void was just spend between the 3 of them, and even though the brothers had know to call the void home, they always asked Nari about how the world was outside, and he would tell them stories about what he remembered from the outside world

Eventually, somehow (maybe through one of his dreams? Yeah maybe I'm using that  trope) he got word that one day a lamb would come and free him, and although he was skeptical of such thing happening (since he already accepted his faith of being stuck there forever) he still did sometimes daydream about said lamb appearing before him, a knight in shining armor, awaiting any and all instructions to do whatever they needed to do to free him. In reality, when the lamb actually appeared, all she  got was an undead shaved lamb holding their head on their hands that looked as dumbfounded as a fish out of water. Either way, she ordered the Lamb to create a cult on his name, fixed the lamb up, and sent them back to the mortal world (which was something he didn't know he could do but eh. The more you know) 

Story goes on as normal, lamb kills all his siblings and then kills and indoctrinates him etc etc. Throughout all this time he saw the lamb as nothing but a pawn in his plans but now that the lamb was in control he didn't even know how to feel about them anymore. Not like he had enough time to relflect upon their relationship because it seemed that as soon as he got indoctrinated he got put in a wedding suit and was stuck marrying the lamb. It took her out of left field completely, and she was left dumbfounded, trying to figure out her new life in her new follower body with a relationship she didnt really want to be a part of at first. (but slowly, but surely, she did eventually fall in love romantically with the Lamb. somehow. Not really stockholm syndrome because truthfully the lamb didnt actually care what Nari did? Like she could have ran away and the Lamb wouldnt have given two fucks? Like as long as she wasn't trying to overthrow them they didnt care)

This time period surprisingly gave Narinder a lot of time to reflect (you think that would have happened when she was banished, but she was more preoccupied with not going insane). Honestly? It was healing. She formed relationships with some of the lambs followers, slowly began fixing his relationships with his siblings, tried out new things and learned new skills, and really, since he wasnt chained and confined to a space anymore, he did, and I really do mean did, a lot of exploring of the old faiths. Honestly, she realized that maybe she didnt really want to be a god in the first place. Maybe he only went along with it because his fellow peers, his higher ups, destiny itself maybe said thats what he had to do. But that chapter of his life is over now. She’s just, grown to love the world as it is, and most importantly, realized who she was and what was part of her identity. She has changed in the end.

Future

Not really much to say here. Basically bro is consuming the cults estrogen supply en masse and really most of the time shes either out on missonaries or taking care of the cults kids and telling them storys about the past (Narinder is really pro at storytelling trust trust you can thank aym and baal for that). 

He sees the lamb ever so often, running trough the same motions, falling into routine, doing everything in such a robotic, soulless matter. Often, She feels guilty that she forced her lover in the same possition she was forced into, but no matter how many times he tells them that maybe its time to step down and pass the crown down, they never ever do it. Maybe the crown has blinded them, corrupted their mindest, maybe theyre afraid if they take of the crown they wont be immortal anymore and that would end their species completely. Or, whatever, Narinder will never know what is going on in the lambs head anyways.

All she can do is support her

[sandssservices]

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[mariacallous]

Within hours of Luigi Mangione being charged with the murder of UnitedHealthcare CEO Brian Thompson on Monday, online stores were flooded with T-shirts, hoodies, mugs, stickers, and other merchandise praising the alleged shooter and featuring phrases like: “In this house, Luigi Mangione is a hero. End of story.”

On Etsy, WIRED found almost 100 listings featuring products with Mangione’s name or image. These include a tote bag featuring pictures of the alleged shooter alongside the phrase “Mama, I’m in love with a criminal” and PDF copies of a mocked-up cover of Time magazine featuring Mangione as Person of the Year and the tagline “Healthcare revolutionary, leading the charge to transform global health.”

These sellers are trying to cash in on the internet’s peculiar fascination with Mangione, whose good looks and privileged background have garnered him fans despite him being accused of a high-profile murder in broad daylight. The fascination with Mangione is a worrying trend, researchers say, that shows behavior that used to be confined to the fringes of the internet becoming mainstream.

Much of the merchandise is being sold by print-on-demand websites, which allow anyone to design and sell a range of products. On one such site, called My Porch Prints, one seller is offering a mug featuring a heart-shaped image of a topless Mangione alongside the words “I love my boyfriend.” A number of print-on-demand merchants are selling a stylized version of the Luigi character from Nintendo's Mario video games holding a gun and wearing a green hoodie. Another hoodie available on multiple online stores, including one called Chill Guy, features an image of Mangione surrounded by love hearts.

There are also multiple different T-shirts and hoodies being sold on sites like Nobele T-Shirt, featuring designs with the phrase “Free Luigi” on them, while many others use the phrase “Deny, Defend, Depose,” the words Mangione allegedly inscribed on some ammunition.

Finally, a T-shirt featuring the McDonald’s logo with the word Mangione superimposed on it is also being sold online by custom gift shop ModParty, referring to the fact Mangione was captured after staff at the fast food restaurant in Altoona, Pennsylvania, identified him and called the police.

Etsy, My Porch Prints, Chill Guy, Noble T-Shirts, and ModParty did not immediately respond to requests for comment.

This unusual situation meant that as internet sleuths worked to discover as much information about Mangione as possible, platforms such as YouTube and Instagram were working to shut down his accounts. X initially shut down Mangione’s account, but after CEO Elon Musk said he was "looking into it" the account was restored.

Google was also forced to remove reviews of the McDonald’s where Mangione was identified on Monday, after Mangione supporters review-bombed it with negative comments and one-star reviews.

Before his identity was revealed on Monday, his online supporters, primarily on TikTok, Bluesky, and X, had created an entire fictionalized version of the shooter as a left-wing revolutionary hero who was standing up for the millions of Americans whose lives have been impacted negatively by interactions with the health care system.

Videos glorifying the killer flooded TikTok, while one person decided to get a tattoo of the alleged shooter’s face. In Washington Square Park in New York City, a look-alike competition was held on Saturday.

Indeed, “Deny, Defend, Depose,” which is widely viewed as a pointed critique of the health insurance industry in America, has become a rallying cry online in recent days as the focus moved away from the shooting itself and onto the shooter and his motives.

However, the fictionalized version of the shooter that was created online does not match reality. Mangione, who allegedly had a handwritten manifesto admitting to the killing in his possession when arrested, is a software engineer from a privileged background. He also follows popular right-wing influencers, such as Tucker Carlson, Joe Rogan, and Jordan Peterson—though he has also criticized some of the arguments put forward by these figures.

During a brief court appearance on Monday night, the police did not outline a motive for the shooting, but based on Mangione’s online posts and reading lists, it appears that the pain from an injury suffered while surfing could have played a significant part in his motivation.

Despite Mangione not fitting the idealized hero that many online created in the time between the shooting and his arrest, the alleged shooter’s fans have continued to post fan fiction about him.

On Archive of Our Own, a repository of fan fiction, half a dozen pieces of prose about Mangione were posted in the hours after he was identified. In one piece entitled “McGuire Road Designated Dispersed Campsite,” an author with the username basedIdiot imagines Mangione and another man on a road trip trying to escape from New York. “‘Oh, am I not your beloved?’ Luigi Mangione mockingly fainted into the other man’s arms,” the author wrote.

In another, an anonymous author imagines Mangione in Texas where he is planning to assassinate Tesla, SpaceX, and X CEO Elon Musk, inscribing the bullets he was going to use to kill the billionaire. “For Musk, he’s kept it simple. X. X. And lastly, X. Mocking goodbye kisses,” the author wrote. “But also a reference to one spoilt, psychotic rich brat’s latest 44-billion-dollar toy to break.”

Another imagines the suspect as the author’s lover while at the University of Pennsylvania, where Mangione studied engineering. “Luigi Mangione turns to you,” writes an author with the username Princesscockdestroyer, who claims she’s writing this fan fiction during her final exams. “He mouths ‘I love you’ then takes off down the street. As you watch him disappear from you, from your life, from any promise of a future together, you can’t help but finally realize that you love him too.”

One of the posts imagines Mangione hooking up with a K-pop star in a motel in Ohio while on the run.

On TikTok, videos with images of Mangione’s smiling face, featuring the Britney Spears song “Criminal,” are also racking up tens of thousands of views, while hundreds of videos with the hashtag TeamLuigi have been posted on TikTok in the hours after Mangione was arrested.

A report published last week by the Network Contagion Research Institute called the phenomenon of online accounts glorifying the shooter as a “cause for concern,” pointing out that it mimics the type of response typically seen on fringe platforms like 4chan and 8chan in the wake of mass shootings.

“While this phenomenon was once largely confined to niche online subcultures, we are now witnessing similar dynamics emerging on mainstream platforms, amplifying the risk of further escalation,” the report’s authors wrote.

[vxnus-seraph]

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. . . AIR THICK WITH INCENSE REMINISCENT OF JASMINES AND ROSES, heat comes in sweltering waves of varying frequencies; easier under the moon's watch at night, but taking on a vibrant and dangerous intensity by morning. it reached its peak along with the sun, becoming almost health-threatening by twelve in the afternoon.

at this hour of the day, the bazaar seemed more a mourning ground than its usual lively self. even nilou and sethos, who were known for their bubbly natures and notable presence in the bazaar's lively atmosphere, contributing well to its charm, turned towards the coolness of their homes at these hours; choosing instead not to challenge the elements and seek polite respite from the summer heat.

it is not very surprising, thus, when nahida desires to refresh herself with perhaps coconut water, cucumber or even a fresh fruit but it is certainly surprising when wanderer himself chooses to 'execute the task' as he prefers calling it, repeatedly citing his promise to serve the dendro archon; highlighting his purpose in this new life, and entirely refusing to accept it as anything else at all, especially not care for the goddess.

it is also not very surprising when a foreigner, quick-eyed, with a robotic contraption by his side, irascible by nature and intensely troubled by the extreme heat passes through the bazaar in the desolate atmosphere, with nothing to entertain the eyes except for the architecture, a few vegetable and fruit vendors and the calls of toy-sellers with their vibrant flutes and balloons.

'sire, you look troubled! why not buy a coconut to relieve your thirst?'

niko's eyes still on the vendor, scanning the coconuts lined neatly on his cart before his companion spoke. 'indeed you must niko! they look rather refreshing. sumeruans love these in the summers!'

if niko noticed the way his robotic companion's voice cracked suggesting malfunction, he chose to ignore it for the sake of his own sanity, not finding any motivation to gather the energy to check what was up.

💐which was a mistake, by the way. wanderer, from the background: stop foreshadowing! 💐🍒🌟 (collectively): 🤨😒 ( s i m p )

at the suggestion, niko moves towards the cart, beginning a bargain with the vendor.

'it should be 50 mora, at most. 100 is too much!'

'nothing is too much for a refreshing drink in the summer!'

'100 mora is. and whether or not it is refreshing is up to me—'

another vendor chimed in from the side- 'oh ho! why not calculate the cost using the weight of the coconut—?'

and then niko fought, and the coconut vendor fought, and the fruit vendor chimed in; and both niko and the man decided that the fruit vendor was too much, and both thought collectively: 'holy lord, if this man says another word i'm going to throw the balance into his face.'

but both missed the loud robotic chiming over their collective shouting, aggressive bargaining and glares. eventually the chimes became louder, slowly taking on an aggressive beep and—

'mister can you please stop that thing—'

and for various reasons all at once, perhaps the heat, the foreign sounding 'mister' which meant the vendor was treating him as a careless foreigner, and his referring to his companion as a 'thing', niko suddenly exploded, pointing an accusative finger—

'why mister, so you think i am but a mere fool from outlands but i must remind you that i, nikolas dumont, am—'

bang!

a loud crash followed, drowning wanderer with smoke leaving him hanging in the middle of the air as he glared—with whatever little remained in his sight after the robot covered his face, anyway—at niko, gaze unamused and carrying patronization.

'i realize that it was a great mistake from my side to not have installed heat-resistant software to my companion, archon of dendro but i greatly regret—'

nahida's voice carried both worry and comfort, coming gently yet with an air of worry. 'it's alright niko, mistakes happen you could not have known. i'm sure wanderer has forgiven you as well, haven't you wan—'

both turn towards him, wanderer retaining his aura and glaring harshly at niko, appearing more like an injured cat than 'menacing' in any way. nahida smiled awkwardly, 'of course, it'll take some time but i'm sure he'll come around...'

but under the shade, dying sunlight filtering through the window as it illuminated both of their features with a warm glow, they wonder with yearning if the other was truly as luminous as they appeared, or if it was simply a trick of the dying sun and of the sweltering heat messing up their minds.

[seldarinesorcerer]

Ipcha Mistabra

In the Talmud, in Tractate Bava Metzia, Abaye and R. Pappa, two 4th century Babylonian rabbis, got into an argument. And like many arguments in the Talmud, what they disagreed about was which of two earlier authorities held differing opinions on a matter of Jewish law. You could see it either one of two ways – say you have an argument with your brother, for example, about a disagreement that went on years ago between your great aunt and your great uncle. You say it was your great-uncle that loved the Red Sox and your great-aunt who loved the Yankees, but your brother says it was the other way around (she loved the Red Sox) – and then he throws in the fact that Ted Williams was a better baseball player than Joe DiMaggio, now you have a full-blown rabbinic kerfuffle.

Getting back to the case of Abaye and R. Pappa, they were attempting to establish the basis for determining a fair market price for olive oil, which was a precious commodity in the ancient near east. It turns out that olive oil was sold filtered, no sediments were supposed to be in it; and the authorities carefully watched the seller’s and the purchaser’s assumptions about how much of this excess material got through the process anyway, got mixed in, and they’d establish the price based on their divergent assumptions. 

So after Abaye lays out his reasoning, lines up which side took which role in the argument, R. Pappa turns around and says “You’ve got it totally backwards - how they argued it out,” and he offers an 180-degree differing explanation about who (more than a century earlier) took which position and what was motivating them.

"Ipcha Mistabra" – the Talmud says. It’s Aramaic for “Things can be understood the other way around.” It’s the Talmud’s way of saying, hey, you might think that, here, this is the logic behind a certain dispute, but guess what! I’m going to illustrate an opposing, maybe counterintuitive, way of looking at the disagreement. You can see it from a different angle entirely.

Ipcha Mistabra

An editorial writer in Haaretz on August 1st this past summer (Haaretz being a totally secular newspaper) used the term to make his point. He suggested that in political circles we should all be asking what may be counterintuitive, even shocking – about why Netanyahu would assassinate the political leader of Hamas in Tehran, if the guy was a key player in negotiating a diplomatic solution to the hostage crisis and ending the war? (Keep in mind this was before the assassination of Nasrallah and the Hezbollah decapitations in Beirut!) The guy who got killed, Ismail Haniyeh, was a bad guy, for sure, but do you assassinate one of their chief negotiators? At the time, most commentators just drew the conclusion that Israel may have overshot its goals, made a tactical blunder. But the same writer went against the grain, by suggesting that Netanyahu intended it, he did it deliberately – he “outsourced” a tenet of Israeli escalation domination strategy to Iran – by calling its bluff – letting Iran figure out at what level – it would decide to retaliate. The reasoning for this, he continued, is that the Israeli prime minister actually wanted Iran to bear the risk of confronting the US. Force Iran to think about a larger war it can’t control by upping the stakes for itself and its proxies and sucking America into it. And, at the same time, the Israeli prime minister would divert attention away from the war in Gaza!

But I’m not bringing this up to get into politics, we have enough of that. See, what I’m curious about is this way of thinking – going with what’s counterintuitive that’s happening right in front of us. We’re often so sure about how things have reached the stage they’re in right now – but just suppose we pause to ask an alternative set of questions? In the dazzling novel Kairos by Jenny Erpenbeck, a young woman from East Berlin falls in love with an older married man from the “other” side, only a year or so before Germany is reunited. As the wall falls, her reality and her fantasies disintegrate, better yet, are subsumed within a new mental mapping – and all that remains of a long, illicit affair is a ritual they go on performing whenever they part company (in Erpenbeck’s words): “When they leave a place together, he holds out her coat, she slips into it front-wise, briefly holds him in her arms, then slips it off and puts it on the right way.”

Ipcha Mistabra

I can remember, when I was a child, I used to walk down this (what I thought was a) long hall and peer behind the thin glass of a mirror on the wall, to see if there was something there looking through it – back at me.

Getting to the Truth is more than simply arguing the other side of a debate (that’s hard enough, standing in someone else’s shoes); sometimes it’s looking at the obverse of what we think we know – for everything we commonly think of as true and solid – there may be, in fact, something more unsettling to it. 

At the end of July, it was reported that William Calley died in a hospice in California. For those of you born long after the Vietnam War, Mr. Calley was synonymous with the My Lai massacre, the mass murder of a village filled with defenseless women and children, although in so many ways his conviction told us something more. It stood in for a senseless war fought by Americans for a regime that was terrible and corrupt – a war that our society eventually came to realize it should have no part in. It unmasked a larger issue: that something in our own society was rotten, had failed, and we needed to look ourselves in the mirror. Coincidentally, the same day that it was reported that Calley died, it was also reported that a Palestinian prisoner was abused in the crudest way by Israeli soldiers, and were it not for a whistle-blower, there was a likelihood that others would get away with this abhorrent behavior, and, in fact, probably already have. And yet, there were loud protests in Israel by people who think it’s somehow unfair to accuse prison guards who, after all, are put in charge of the worst of the worst.

Ipcha Mistabra

What do these moments mean for our hopes and illusions in a larger sense? How do they speak to our commitments to one another, to making a better world? Can we, in these Days of Awesome, marshal the fortitude to peer behind the hell-scape of the kibbutzim that were devastated on October 7th, the charred remains of homes, the wreckage of a dance festival? Is there a way to see behind the mirror – or maybe it’s for this very reason that we cover the mirrors in a house of mourning? And then there’s the cruelty to the hostages that keeps us looking away.

Ipcha Mistabra

Have you read Percival Everett’s great literary invention, called James? It takes Mark Twain’s Huckleberry Finn and turns it around, so that we explore, we come to know what’s behind the opaque figure of a slave, however benevolent, the character of Jim is in the original famous book. In Everett’s telling, that same Black human being, invested with dignity and chutzpah is brazen enough to steal… a pencil! He’s hidden it away deep in his pocket, because if he’s caught with it, he’s liable to get hung. The pencil is more valuable than anything else – and in Everett’s words, he writes “himself into being.” In fact, James’ supple use of language is his character’s animating force – he’s not just intelligent, but he’s a human being with his own desires and imagination. What you get is there’s another side to Twain’s story. And, I’d also go so far as to say that Huckleberry Finn in each telling of the story is a child who’s a tabula rasa – he’s malleable, sympathetic, not yet formed, our humanity without the artifice of race, that reflects what could someday be true of all of us. But in the meantime, it’s James who comes into focus in this new telling. 

Ipcha Mistabra

The same pattern of obfuscation-and-recovery holds true for Viet Than Nguyen, the writer of the wonderful novel from a few years ago, The Sympathizer, but who also wrote a scholarly nonfiction work entitled Nothing Ever Dies: Vietnam and The Memory of War. He calls attention to the design of the Vietnam Memorial in Washington, its shiny black granite surface, as bringing not just the names of those lost American soldiers front and center, but, we, the viewers, see ourselves observing it. The wall provokes anxiety – there’s a mirror effect – and suddenly we are implicated; and it subverts the patriotic American framing of this war being our tragedy. We’re looking away! We’re omitting the memories of millions of dead Vietnamese, after all. He calls it a “disremembering”.

I was talking to a rabbi in my community about this, and he told me that he and his wife had taken a trip to Vietnam this past spring. He said that he was hoping naively, as a Jew living at a time when our own prospects for tomorrow are in question, to understand how and to what extent the Vietnamese have come to terms with the past and embraced a different future... But in wishing to see things all “repaired”, he very well could have been disremembering too. I wonder how the Vietnamese will write “themselves into being” again? 

So we know right now we’re standing at a crossroads in modern Jewish history. It’ll take decades to sort it all out: what we in the Jewish world should want, whom it is we think we serve, whom we fail to serve, and the memories that cloud our vision. There’s that mirror we hold up, as does Sarah in Genesis 21, with the opening line:

ויהוה פקד את־שרה כאשר אמר ויעש יהוה לשרה כאשר דבר 

It’s translated “G-d remembered Sarah just like God had said,” but it’s more than remembering – the verb פקד means “G-d performed an accounting, (as if there was something yet owed).” And the commentator Malbim explains that although G-d had predicted the birth of a child in Sarah’s old age, to her it was – until this point – lacking in credibility, unresolved – what with her passive husband yielding to her jealousy, nonchalantly leaving Hagar with her toddler out in the cold, the family in turmoil. After all, Sarah famously laughs out loud, she finds G-d’s prediction funny, even a bit disturbing. In this troubled Torah narrative, amidst her doubts, the future hangs in the balance.

Nachman of Bratslav teaches that when we are despairing, at odds with the people around us, we can become like a blank slate, a book that’s empty – Every one of us can be like “a human being,” שאין לו ספר. There’s nothing in the book – it’s vanished! An empty Torah scroll! So, he says, we begin, this is where we find ourselves, at this place of no place, but we still have this blazing desire in our hearts, a yearning to learn! Maybe we forgot something? 

And how does Nachman set it up? He says it’s like this: that somewhere out there in the world there are two tzaddikim, two righteous people, they’re conversing with one another, however – the only thing is – they’re walking along on two separate paths, this one tzaddik over here on this side of the world and this other tzaddik miles and miles away. Maybe it’s a bit like being online? But he goes on to say that this one tzaddik over here poses a question and the other one over there offers an answer, a way to figure it out. A question and an answer, but again – it’s just speech, our voices, often cacophonous, nothing more than that – but they can add up. It’s the vibrations that unite, and they can produce the purest Sound, the Voice of G-d. And it’s this Voice that ultimately connects one to the other, Nachman says – it’s this Voice that then gets written down as a ספר זכרון, we call the Book of Remembrance. We remember!

We may have during a long, hard year forgotten something about ourselves, what we really stand up for. It’s possible. We may have, on the arduous path – amidst our arguments, our public statements, our gatherings in solidarity or in protest – lost track of who we are, where we can vibrate with the Truth – where the Truth of humanity is. James Baldwin said it: “Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced.” 

Ipcha Mistabra

Things can sometimes be explained the other way around, in a way we have as yet not fathomed, or refuse to see. We may never have expected it, we may never have imagined an entirely different future, or maybe we disremembered it all along! – but somehow, in seeing things differently, it might yet help us to get at the Truth. 

On this Yom Kippur, may we loosen the shackles of ideology, slacken just a little bit the cords of fear and recrimination and sanctimony, and help our adversaries, our neighbors, even the ones we love who’ve hidden their faces from us at times – to write ourselves “into being”. May we all be written and sealed for a year that gives us new life and hope and, G-d-willing, a focus on peace.

Amen.

[one-of-many-journeys]

Day 56

The Jewel

After I'd put enough distance between me and the Eclipse base, and was sure they wouldn't follow, I picked up a mount and rode on to an abandoned feed storehouse and slept until sunrise.

Then I continued on to Brightmarket, a village on the river bordering Shadow Carja territory. Big machines patrolling the lands—Sawtooths and Ravagers. I managed to make it past without them taking a swipe.

I stopped for a meal at the inn in Brightmarket. Not many outlanders here, even Oseram, so a Nora certainly turned heads.

Janeva said that the third escaped prisoner, Gavan, would have passed through the village looking to buy passage across the river. I asked the innkeeper if a man of that name passed through over the last few days, and he immediately grew nervous, reacting in anger and defensiveness to my line of inquiry. That's a yes, then, so either the innkeeper helped him and doesn't want to go down for aiding a fugitive, or he's afraid of Gavan and his smuggler pals. I wasn't getting anywhere with him, so I purchased a room for the day and night instead, making it seem like I was dropping the issue.

The bedhouse was nice, and beginning to empty as the morning wound on. I rested a while more and changed into light Carja silks. It's more this place's style.

Just outside the inn, I found a pair of manacles, the lock smashed open on a rock. They must have belonged to Gavan, and the surrounding earth was scored with scuffle and drag marks, and blood. Maybe it wasn't Gavan that the innkeeper was covering for. I can't image he smuggled people and goods alike during the war without making powerful enemies.

I followed the trail back west into the jungle, through a hidden, narrow pass in the rock to a storehouse on the riverbank. It would have made a perfect site for smuggling back in the day. Gavan was there all right, tied up and being beaten by a Carja bandit touting a Firespitter. These weren't your average bandits though—from the way they ridiculed Gavan, this was personal. Enemies of my enemy who were also my enemies. It made things nice and straightforward.

A few down by bow from cover, then as the others tried to seek the source of death uphill I descended with my spear, finally taking up the Firespitter to finish the remaining few.

By the time I got to Gavan, he was barely clinging to life. He was truthful with me, never attempting to claim a noble motive for his crimes. Cursed Janeva and the kingdom, then he died. Freedom didn't agree with him either way. I would have found him if his enemies hadn't first, and put him in the ground at Janeva's behest. At least those bandits won't be hurting anyone else, even those that it could be argued deserve it.

Shadow Carja territory across the river: more fortresses, and a Tallneck too. Once I get there, that's where I'll go first, get my bearings in a new stretch of land.

Once back in Brightmarket, I came across a man searching for someone from the bridge over the river. His name was Lahavis, and the missing person was his teenage daughter Elida. He thought she might have jumped, or run off somewhere, said she'd been withdrawn for a long time now, even from her close friends. I agreed to help track her, and Lahavis directed me to the gardens of his estate—the largest and most elaborate in the village by far. Another defaced statue of the late king Jiran adorned its balcony. I wonder how Lahavis came into his wealth; from a few offhand comments it seems he's now a lawmaker for Avad.

Flowers had been dug up from the garden, their purple petals scattered in a trail from the courtyard and across the bridge, toward the port. I just hoped they weren't leading me to a corpse.

On the docks, I met a fruit seller called Gulahni whose stall was being ransacked nightly by an unknown thief. By her admission, she often gave food away to the poor, so was at a loss as to why the thief didn't approach and ask for some directly. The guards were no help in such a small matter, so I agreed to try and find the thief and discover their motive.

Elida's trail led me past the docks and to a boat house to the west of the village, with one boat missing. I made the short swim across to the desert island between sun and shadow territories.

The missing boat was moored on its shore, and further on was a small oasis campsite seeded with trees and flowers. And an angry Snapmaw. I took it down quickly—in fact it took all of seven arrows. Four for the frost gullet and three for the brittle body maimed in the ensuing explosion. I found Elida hiding from it on a rocky outcrop and told her, perhaps a little sternly, that her father was worried for her safety and thought she was dead. At least when I disappeared long after I was expected home, Rost knew I could handle myself. And there were no large machines, bandits, or civil wars in the Embrace.

Elida scoffed at the thought that her father was worried for her, but seemed to believe me when I insisted. She also slipped up, saying she'd made this place for 'us', and wouldn't tell me why she was keeping it secret. I looked over the camping supplies by the garden and found two bedrolls and a set of cups, a clear retreat for two. When I confronted her, Elida finally relented and admitted she had been meeting in secret here with a boy called Atral, a childhood friend turned Shadow Carja soldier when his family and regiment went west at the fall of the old regime. Atral lit a signal on the northern shore on nights when it was safe for them to meet. He did so on the evening prior, but after waiting through the night and most of the next day, there had been no further sign of him.

Elida refused to leave until she knew Atral was safe, so I made a deal to try and track his whereabouts if she agreed to return home to her father. She agreed, but there was something she said that stuck with me...She said she felt like she was dead, and only came alive when with Atral, asked me if I understood what it was like. No, obviously. If that's what love feels like, it sounds terrifying.

I swum the substantially longer distance to the smoke signal left on the northern bank. Unfortunately there was blood next to the dead fire, and signs of a struggle. I followed track marks up the path to the fortress. Must have been Atral's posting. I heard the guards out front of the fortress talking about a traitor that they had locked up in one of the cells. It had to be him.

The front gates were heavily guarded, so I skirted the cliff's edge and scaled up to the battlements, taking down a few guards as they came around on their patrol routes. I heard Atral's interrogators trying to get him to tell them who he was signalling to on the shore. They must have been going at it all night and day. Elida said that if it was known that she was on Shadow Carja territory, especially as the daughter of one of Avad's closest advisors, it would break the ceasefire and bring an assault on Brightmarket.

I took out the other guards on the upper level from a distance or with spear strikes in stealth. Someone spotted me from the level below, and as they ran up the stairs to confront me, I took out three at once with a couple of bombs. Then to the lower courtyard to finish the rest, and get to Atral.

I was too late. Atral was alive, but barely, and by his injuries I knew he wouldn't survive the journey back, even if I could find some way to carry him across the river without being spotted. I told him of Elida's constant vigil, and he shared his parting words, intended for her. That he never betrayed her, and that it's worth it. At the time I thought he was talking about the beating he took, the value of his life. I suppose if he felt dead without her anyway, as Elida described, it had to be.

I swam hard back to Elida's island, finding that she'd honoured our deal and taken the boat back to the village. By the time I reached its shore I was exhausted, walking back to the docks and to Lahavis' estate.

He was waiting out front of the residence to greet me, and thanked me for Elida's safe return. Offered a reward befitting a noble Carja too. I couldn't leave it at that. I couldn't leave Elida wondering.

She was sitting in the garden, and before I could even begin to break the news she stood and stopped me, said she already knew. She blamed herself, I could see that, and worse, she sounded at peace, resolute, and far away. She said it would all be alright soon. That's when I noticed the foul smelling liquid bottled on the table beside her. Poison.

I didn't know what to say to her, but feeling dead and being dead are two very different things. Feelings fade, over time, but I knew she wouldn't want to hear that. Atral said that living is worth it, and I repeated those words to Elida, their intended. I only understood what he meant when watching grief take Elida completely.

The only other thing I could say was that her father was here, and loved her, and could be with her in the meantime. As a lawmaker, I'll bet he can press harder in his advocation for an end to the war too, though with Helis among it's high ranking officers, it won't be easy. Elida and Atral aren't the only lovers torn apart by the conflict, separated by that stretch of water, or death.

When I left Elida, I knocked the bottle of poison to the ground and ran to Lahavis, telling him to hurry to his daughter's side. I saw them sitting together, talking for a long time, heads bent. Safely in each others company. I returned to the inn to sleep.

[j0kers-light]

His Lighthouse: Like I Want You (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

Like I Want You

series summary:  

Y/n is an aspiring writer living in Gotham City and struggling to find her next muse. Her recent novel is getting all the buzz, earning her far more attention than she signed up for. But when a chance encounter results in her nursing The Joker back to health, will she find the time to write another best seller or will her own story become front page of the Gotham Gazette?

chapter summary:

Joker feared nothing in life except you. No matter if you said your warning in a fit of hysterics they hold meaning. Will you hold him accountable or will Joker have a chance to start over and finally learn more about his Light?

author's note:

Hello darkness my old friend!! I promise I’m not dead! I’m back with a long chapter to make up for the long wait! Fun fact it was even longer… hehe don’t you just love editing? The chapter was dragging on and it didn’t flow properly so I had to cut it. It’ll be included in the next chapter I promise kinda like a 'pick up where we left off' type deal.

Once again thank you all so much for waiting 😫😭😭 I don't deserve this much love and support!! Also please listen to Like I Want You by Givēon to enjoy this chapter to its fullest! I hope you enjoy!

A TRIGGER WARNING IS INCLUDED IN THIS CHAPTER REGARDING Y/N'S PAST WITH **** PLEASE SKIP IF THIS AFFECTS YOU!

taglist:

@blackreaderatrisk @twinkledinkle @clemdango04 @l3ejm @what-an-angel @darthjokerisyourfather @thatsnoteii @dollster @cheetahspy @kaidennnnn @urdariingdoll @motivation-idontknowher @ins0mniac-whack @spaghettificationandpretzels @reneisance @alittlesmartcookie @ninacutebee16 @carydorse

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

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Sarai was the first one to react after your mini episode.

You were still not yourself and the meds she administered weren't helping things, however; your warning was heard loud and clear.

'You hurt my friends.. and I'll never.. forgive you.'

It was a bold statement, one that the dark clown wasn't handling very well.

Sarai glanced over at Joker who had yet to say anything. He was watching you sleep while you were completely unaware to the fact that you just flipped his world upside down. It was unnerving to see him at a loss for words.

Sarai cleared her throat and tapped your IV drip hanging from the bedpost. "This'll be empty in two hours. Call me when it does."

Joker remained unresponsive so she sighed and focused her attention on your friend in the room. If Sarai remembered correctly, her name was Morgana but just in case she heard it wrong, she didn't call it out directly.

"It's my day off 'n the Fashion District is just round the way. You come with me." She zipped her bag close and waved for Morgana to follow her.

It didn't take a cryogenist to know that Joker needed some time alone with you. His thoughts were plentiful and they weighed on him heavily. However Morgana didn't read the room. She eyed the doctor sideways and stood her ground.

She promised your mother she would watch over you. "I'm not going anywhere. Y/n needs me!"

Sarai was already at the door but turned on her heel to address Morgana.

"She's sedated and I doubt she'll need anything for a few hours. Now, grab ya shoes and ya purse, we're dropping a band. Is my payment ready? Joker?"

Sarai called his name two more times yet he didn't respond.

He was still frozen like a statue, still trying to process your words. It was only after Sarai walked up to him that he blinked out of his fog and glared at her. His body language was defensive and ready to maim. He was back to normal after all.

"My payment?" Sarai dragged out.

Joker waved Sarai off like a pest. "The usual."

She faced Morgana with a wide grin, "We rich! If you need me, send for me!" Sarai shouted over her shoulder at Joker.

She pulled Morgana out of the bedroom and eventually the apartment despite the florist pitching a fit the entire way. Then, Joker was finally alone with you.

So much had transpired during the week apart he felt like he was back to square one with you.

The weekend he spent with you in Martha's Vineyard felt like a dream and so far from reality. He could never forget your beautiful smile or your soft, hesitant touch making him feel like a man reborn. He'd seen the light and experienced its power and now that same light had been snuffed out.

It was disheartening and Joker would not let it stand.

Joker believed you were somewhere buried underneath the pain and trauma of your past.

His Light, an educated bookworm who stuttered under pressure yet quick to raise her voice if someone was in the wrong. That had to be your Blüdhaven upbringing at play. You were a little spitfire in hiding.

He longed for that Y/n, the one that was slowly coming out of her introverted shell. The version of you whom he had inevitably grown to love. Suddenly, a weight lifted from his chest.

Joker could say it now. Love. He loves you.

The very meaning of the word made him feel as if he was underwater fighting against a current.Saying the word up until now made him choke up.

For so long Joker wondered, how could a person blindly love another? To willingly sacrifice everything, their very life, all to please their beloved? It didn't make any sense to him. Then Joker met you and it was sooo easy to risk it all, he questioned how he didn't believe sooner.

He thought people were stupid when they said, 'I found my person.'

He'd been around the world and seen the worst of humanity, but when he looked at you, he was humbled beyond words. If Joker was evil incarnate, then you were a goddess walking on Earth.

And woe, to whoever caused you this pain.

Your Dark Prince would burn cities in your honor. You need not worry about the misdeeds that Joker committed in order to keep you happy. All you needed to do was enjoy the spoils of war.

If keeping you in the dark kept you by his side, then so be it. It didn't soothe his conscience though. Joker thought his shady actions were just but you and your naïve view of the world, would not see things his way.

He would always be the villain in your story even if he paraded around in the sheep's clothing.

Joker could lie till the sun turned blue, but in this moment while you slept blissfully unaware, he would show his hand. Only then would he have the strength to deceive you and remain by your side. But first he needed proof that you were sound asleep.

Joker leaned forward to run his fingers down your cheek. You didn't move a muscle.

Color was coming back to your complexion in the short amount of time that Sarai administered fluids. Your body was struggling to keep up with your emotional outbursts and Joker knew that this was only the beginning to a long process of healing.

He knew you had your demons but you were so secretive about them.

Anytime your past was brought up in conversation, you found a way to dodge the subject. It was frustrating but it piqued his interest.

He deserved to know every aspect of you since he was fully invested now.

Joker felt like he should be the only one mentally unstable in this relationship. He accepted that his mind was ruined a loooong time ago but you? You didn't deserve this. You were a beacon of light, a motivation to so many, (Joker included) and without that natural source of light, he felt off kilter.

Slowly but surely, you and your inner light was changing Joker for the better and he was feeling the side effects now that you were temporarily out of commission. He didn't want to go back to the life he led before meeting you. Life had no meaning, no spark. He was just an empty shell of destruction searching for something worthwhile.

Joker couldn't go back to that. He needed his Light back.

Sarai stated it would take two hours for your IV bag to empty. That gave Joker plenty of time to confess.

He grabbed one of the accent chairs from the fireplace area and brought it over to the side of the bed. He settled into it with a sigh while his eyes roamed over your slumbing form. Morgana had tucked you back under the covers before Sarai all but dragged her out of the apartment.

Joker made a mental note to wire the doctor more funds.

The woman was a nuisance but she proved herself useful time and time again. Joker was glad to have someone like her on his payroll. She acknowledged that he needed time alone with you and got Morgana to leave the premises without drawing attention to his dilemma.

Speaking of which...

Joker cleared his throat. He had so much to say and not a lot of time left to say it in.

"I've done so much that I'll never uhh, atone for but your words Bunny.. They haunt me. I think I already broke my promise to ya, doll." He looked at your closed eyelids.

You looked so peaceful fast asleep; he felt like a coward for speaking on deaf ears. Yet his conscience would be clear if he got this off his chest.

"I-I didn't mean to but.. Florence she's.." Joker swallowed thickly.

You were asleep but in a way, he felt ashamed for what he'd done. Deep down Joker knew you would never forgive him. This would be a confession he'd take to the grave.

"I did it because I had to, Y/n. I'll do any-thing to keep you safe. To keep us safe. That's all I want. Us. T-Together. But I fear if—" Joker stopped and snorted to himself.

"No. My bunny is smart. There's no if. I fear when you find out about all the horrors I've done and uh, will do– you'll leave me. And I... I can't have thaT. Not when I just got ya."

Joker looked down at his hands and grimaced at the invisible blood staining them.

How could you stand them?

You swore up and down that you loved Joker's hands and more importantly, his touch, but the level of trust you willingly gave away troubled him. Everything Joker touched, he destroyed. How were you any different? He left nothing but pain in his wake and he didn't want to hurt you again.

You were a delicate creature in his eyes, a goddess gracing him with just your mere presence. He had no right to touch something so pure.

His hands were forever dirty. Joker's palms were calloused and he had flecks of red and white makeup near his fingers. Joker noticed his nails were getting a bit long and smirked.

If you were awake and in better spirits, you would attack them with nail clippers, making them pretty and worthy to hold, but even then, Joker still didn't see what you saw every time you reached out to hold them.

What made him worthy of your affection?

You would hold his hands as if they were precious gems and kiss each finger with the faintest brush of your lips, that it stole Joker's breath every time.

He didn't deserve such reverence on such tools of mass destruction and especially not from someone like you.

The feeling of your delicate hands slotting into his much rougher ones should be illegal but you would simply scoff at J's tsundere ways and hold them whenever you had the chance. In your eyes, you were the one unworthy to touch him.

You were the only person that touched him without a shred of malicious intent.

A literal angel came down from above with the sole purpose to torture his wicked soul with love and kindness. Joker could never fathom a way to repay you but he could guarantee that he would break your heart.

It was the kind of person he was. History always repeats itself.

He could only hope you would look past his many, many flaws and remain by his side for he would do the same for you.

So what if he was being selfish? Joker knew you were way out of his league but that wouldn't stop him from wanting you all for himself. He would do anything to change fate's design to keep the girl and live happily ever after.

As if such a thing were possible for a corrupted man like him. Did he even deserve a happy ending with the life he lived? No harm in finding out.

Joker reached out and held your hand with one of his own.

He dropped his unique speech pattern and spoke straight from the heart. He leaned down so his words could fall straight into your ear.

"Florence threatened to expose us both and they would have taken you from me. I couldn't bear being separated from you so I..." Joker squeezed your hand tighter.

It was right on the tip of his tongue yet he could say it aloud. Perhaps speaking it into existence made it real and he wasn't ready for you to know the truth just yet. J dropped his head with a bitter smile.

"You may think me a monster and that's okay. I am. But know this. No matter how much you hate me, no matter how hard you try to leave— in the end, this monster will always be by your side because.. I-I have nowhere else to go. You own me my Light. You've won."

Joker scanned your face for a flicker of alertness, but you stayed asleep. His smile was bittersweet before he kissed you softly. A monster kissing his sleeping beauty.

And oh how the mighty have fallen.

Your IV bag was half empty but Joker would wait until you opened your eyes to talk to you then. There was no other place he'd rather be so he settled in and took vigil, protecting his Light.

Joker heard you whimper just shy of the two hour mark. He set down his journal and waited for you to stir awake but much to his disappointment, nothing happened so he returned to his work.

He was underlining a great idea for a heist when you whimpered again. Joker looked over and saw that a heavy weight had settled on your brow that wasn't there before.

He watched you shift under the covers and thought maybe you were waking up but instead you mumbled something inaudible and flinched away from an unknown entity. It took him a minute but Joker knew all too well what was happening. You were having a nightmare and watching it unfold tore him apart.

He tossed his work down and reached over to shake you awake.

"Y/n. Hey, hey... bunny." His efforts proved to be counterproductive since you openly sobbed and curled into a fetal position.

As a result, your IV line stretched too far and pulled taunt on your forearm. Joker was worried that the needle would come out so he tried to help you lie back down but you had other plans. Whatever nightmare you were experiencing was traumatic and you reacted accordingly.

It came out of nowhere. One minute you were curled up like a ball, the next, you were fighting him with all your might.

Joker had to admit– you had hands, but you were causing more harm to yourself than him and somehow you were still asleep during the scuffle. He had to put an end to this.

"Wake up Y/n!" Joker shouted as he dodged your fists.

He grunted when your knee collided with his groin. Joker's pain tolerance was high but he was still a man. He grimaced through the pain and missed your eyes flying open in a state of panic.

Your head was still foggy from the pain meds but you quickly acknowledged that a male was pinning you down.

You couldn't tell what was real and what was just your nightmare; the only thing you could do was react the same way you did well over a year ago.

"G-Get off of me, Ty! Stop it!"

Joker froze the moment you yelled another man's name.

He quickly flipped the two of you over so you were the one in control but he didn't let you go.

He couldn't let you fight this alone. Although he didn't know what to do, he decided that talking you through it was somewhat of a good idea.

"Shhh shhh doll. Hey, uh.. do ya remember when I took you to the uh beach? You wanted to err— 'hear the dark ocean waves crashing onto the shore and feel the stillness of the night embrace you.' Buh-lieve me, it sounded wayy better comin' from you. I thoughT you were crazy for wanting to go at nighT but you madeit sound so.. normal. I wanted to experience something normal with you."

Joker noticed that you stopped fighting him so he kept going.

"You were uh, happy just dancing in the moonlight, so carefree and beautiful. I never took my eyes off ya and how could I? You're perfect, my light in the darkness, my.. everything. I'd do anything for you, don't ya know that doll? Say the woo~oord and it's yours, remember?"

Joker cradled the back of your head and you could hear his heartbeat while lying on his chest. He was just as nervous as you were. You clung to Joker's shirt tighter and whimpered.

Joker saw that he was winning you over and took things a step further.

"I'm gonna rub your back in uhh, circular motions mkay? Tell me to stop and I will."

You were afraid that Joker would make fun of your fragile situation but instead he took the time to alert you of his intentions. That had to count for something yet the doubt still lingered.

You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to clear them away. This was Joker, he wouldn't hurt you.. right? There were so many unknowns floating inside your head but Joker called out your name in that unique tone of his dragged you out of the fray.

His hands gently landed on your back, making you tense on reflex. "This okay?" He asked.

A man who never asked for permission a day in his life, offered you that courtesy. With a shaky nod, you allowed it.

"Yeah? All-rightY then. I'll go slow buT... ya gotta talk to me. What's goin' on in that pretty head of yours, bun?"

He left a kiss on the crown of your head and rubbed your back in soothing figure eights. The rhythm made your eyes fall half mast but Joker stopped before you could fall under.

He drummed his fingers against your spine and it startled you awake. "Use your words, pretty girl. Tell me."

"Please, don't make me relive that." You begged.

The finger drumming stopped and you risked a peek at Joker. His shriveled up heart tore into two seeing a river of diamonds running down your bronze cheeks.

Someone hurt his Light and they would pay but first he would do his best to dry your tears. He can't bear it whenever you cry. Your tears would be his undoing.

"Relive what, Y/n? I never know what's going on with you. Who's this Ty person, hmm? I can kill him for you.."

You froze. You couldn't believe that you uttered that name for J to hear. Maybe if you backtracked Joker would forget and move on.

"N-No one. Just forge—"

"Stop. Dodging. The. Question! Morgana told me what happ-ened last night and now you're reacting like this?! You can't hide from me anymore. I neeeeeeeeed to know what happened.."

Joker shifted a bit so he could catch one of your tears with his index finger. There was genuine concern etched on his face that left you speechless. You never wanted Joker to know but he wasn't going to let this go. He was just as stubborn as you are.

He started to list off your drawbacks.

"You fear a man's touch. You have anxiety and social triggers. You run away from anything stressful, and d__n it Y/n! Just tell me what happened. I won't jud—"

"NO!"

Joker arched an eyebrow at your sudden outcry. He'd only known you a few months but you weren't a person to raise your voice at others.

"Nooo no no... no, you'll h-hate me if I told you!" You choked out a sob and Joker was quick to pull you back into a hug. His warm embrace was the perfect remedy despite the circumstances at hand.

"I could never hate you! What makes you think that Y/n?" He vowed while squeezing you tighter.

Joker had his suspicions on what happened to you but he kept it to himself. Morgana offered to spill the beans but he felt he should hear the truth directly from you. For so long Joker questioned your odd tics and mannerisms and today they finally held meaning.

You created some space from him with a sigh and Joker knew whatever you were about to say would change everything. You couldn't look him in the eye anymore.

With tears dotting your lashes, you finally broke down and told Joker about your past.

"Because why would you want someone's leftovers?"

"Uh leftovers?" J echoed. You sat up in Joker's lap and sniffled.

You never told anyone what truly happened that fateful night– not even when your parents begged you to make a police report, but the moment you started talking, you just couldn't stop. The truth was finally coming out and you felt indifferent to it all.

You wrapped your arms around yourself and began.

"His birthday was coming up and I didn't want him to be more upset with me. He was already mad because I didn't get him anything so we decided last minute on a movie. Some trashy romance flick that I couldn't tell you the title of to save my life. In hindsight, I realize that he practically threatened me to go. He knew what he wanted from me."

"The movie was fine until he got handsy halfway through. I said no. I said no all night... He slapped me, called me a f__king cocktease when I refused to suck him off– so I left. It should've been simple.. Give Ty a day or two to cool off but he always apologizes. He had a temper but he never meant to take it out on me. He always apologized because he... loved me. Or so I thought." You shivered.

"That night was different though. He was so angry that I made a scene walking out and we had already fought the day before about me moving to Gotham to kick off my writing career. He wanted me to be a stay at home wife. Heh, marriage was never brought up in a conversation he just... assumed that I would be with him forever. If only I had known just how controlling he really was. By the time he showed me his true colors—"

You chuckled while blinking back your tears. Joker wanted to reach out and wipe them away, do anything really to comfort you, but your next sentence stopped him in his tracks.

[ Do NOT read further if sexual assault/rape affects you. The end of this section is marked if you wish to skip it.]

*** TRIGGER WARNING STARTS NOW ***

"He followed me out into the alley behind the theater. I made it to the sidewalk, but he grabbed my hair and dragged me back into the darkness. He s-slammed my head so hard into the brick wall, I lost consciousness. I came to and scratched at his face so he broke my arm. And the b-broken jaw was because I-I was too loud. If I had kept my mouth shut like a good girlfriend, he wouldn't have to be so rough, he said. It still aches when it rains, which is all the time, but it's whatever I guess."

Joker's gaze fell to your jaw as if he could find evidence to your assault well over a year later. He did notice on heavy rainy days that you would rub your jaw in pain.

He thought nothing of it until now.

It also explained why you were so quiet during sex. You were punished for being too loud then and feared making a sound now.

The puzzle pieces were slowly snapping into place and Joker felt sick to his stomach for being so blind.

"W-When you love someone, you trust them not to h-hurt you." You didn't see Joker's guilt torn face as you said that. You carried on unawares. "He broke that trust so I made the decision to escape from the pain he was inflicting."

"You dissociated while he..." Joker whispered.

How long had you bottled this up? Months? Years? Joker didn't want to know the answer.

He inflicted pain on others simply because it was amusing; nothing bothered him, but hearing the accounts of a traumatic assault from an innocent creature like you, it truly broke his heart.

Now he understood why you always ran when things got too dicey. It was your coping mechanism. Running kept you safe and you couldn't break old habits.

Joker regretted asking you about the past. Some things were best left in the dark.

"I'll never get his voice out of my head. He praised me for being so tight. I was choking on my own blood and b-bleeding internally from each agonizing thrust, and he.. thanked.. me for being... He knew I loved praise and used it against me! I lost a piece of myself that I'll never get back all because he thanked me. C-Can you even call it rape if you cum? How could my own body betray me and enjoy something so barbaric?"

You fought back tears and furiously wiped away any that emerged. When you felt strong enough, you continued.

"It took months to physically mend myself back together but my mental wounds will never heal. I tried to move on and start dating again but..... he was always there. Every date, every hookup, every attempt at sex, was ruined with the thought of him and his touch. Eventually I stopped trying. I accepted the fact I was broken and focused on my work and nothing else. I lost friends but I didn't care. I moved to Gotham City to start anew and haven't looked back. I was existing but not living– that is until you came along."

*** TRIGGER WARNING HAS ENDED ***

Joker looked up in shock. He had been quiet for the most part but hearing his name during your story was a shock. "M-Me?" He pointed to himself.

You exhaled sharply and grabbed Joker's hand.

He watched as you played with his calloused fingers and frowned when you noticed the length of his nails. You picked at a jagged edge as you replied.

"Yeah.. you. You aren't normal and after what I've been through, I craved your um.. brand of different I guess? You don't care that I'm someone else's leftovers— a girl who's afraid of being touched. When I'm with you.. I-I can be the Y/n I was before I was r-r.. um assaulted."

You intertwined your fingers with Joker's and glanced up at him. He immediately returned your stare. "Please tell me you won't leave m-me. N-Now that you know."

Now Joker knew where your separation anxiety originated from.

So many fools before him left you high and dry while you were trying to heal and they unknowingly scarred you further. Joker saw the sheer desperation in your e/c eyes and vowed to be different.

He would not make the same mistake they did.

Joker didn't say a word as he leaned forward to grab a hold of your face.

You jumped at the unexpected contact but his eyes are what scared you the most. They weren't filled with pity or disgust; Joker's vivid green eyes glowed with nothing but acceptance.

Joker's clown makeup took away from the sight but his genuine smile was still a sight for sore eyes. It made yours widen in shock.

"Where else would I go, hmm?" Then he heard his favorite sound in the world. Your laugh.

It wasn't the light and airy bell like tone he was used to, but it'll do given the circumstances. You leaned into Joker's calloused hand that cradled your face with a half smile.

"There she issssss, there's my Light! You thought that would scare me off? Nah, that's nothing. Pfft. I've done far worse sweetheart." Joker thought the joke came out well but he felt the moment you tensed up.

He wanted to kick himself when you leaned away. "What?"

Joker's brain was working in overdrive on how to retract that statement.

In your fragile state, the last thing you needed was to discover just how much of a monster Joker truly was. Thankfully the sound of your stomach growling saved the day. He sighed in relief when you became flustered and covered your belly.

The last thing you ate was a plate of sweets and now your body was craving real food. You filed Joker's eerie words away for later to focus on your body's needs.

"I doubt Dick left any food but it won't hurt to check." You flung the covers away to stand but you were literally yanked back by your IV line.

You glared at it in shock. It was then you noticed that you were tied to the bedpost.

You prayed that you were just reading too much into things. There was no way that Joker would deliberately tie you to the bed. He had no reason to yet your heart started to race when he remained silent.

'I've done far worse sweetheart.' Was this Joker's way of showing you his true colors?

"J, what the..."

He smacked his lips and began the tedious task of untying your line from the headboard.

He tried to ignore your bugged out eyes watching his every move. You had just finished explaining that your rapist ex was controlling only to find out your current lover tied you to the bed.

He'd kill Sarai for her dumb idea. Who ties a medical IV bag to a bedpost anyways?!

It didn't matter who was truly at fault, in your eyes, Joker was to blame. He was making mistake after mistake and really setting himself up for a trip to the doggie house or worse. You just might kick him out of your life for good.

Once the line was loose, he focused on removing the IV needle. Sarai advised him to call her but Joker wanted as much privacy with you as possible. He just hoped he was removing it correctly. At least it didn't bleed as much when he took out the needle. You grimaced more from his touch than the removal process.

He wondered how long it would take for you to trust him again. He missed touching you so freely already.

Joker slapped a band-aid that matched your skin tone on the entry point and stood up.

"You're uh wel-come to join me in the errr kitchen. Do ya need help gettin' there?" Joker ideally wanted to carry you to the kitchen or at least spot you along the way but you were still wary of him.

He would be stuck asking for your permission and doing frequent check-ins for the unforeseeable future.

Not that he minded but it would become repetitious after a while. Just because you and Joker were on the same page again didn't mean he was out of the neck of the woods. He didn't want to overstep any boundaries and risk starting things over from the beginning.

It took too long for Joker to craft the trust he formed with you and he would not let your ex ruin his hard work.

Maybe some food would do you some good. The fluids and pain meds could only do so much to get you back healthy. Although Joker now knew that your mental health was an issue there was no way he could help you there.

"N-No. I think I'll be fine. Um, can you fix me a plate while I'm in the bathroom?" You weren't quite sure why you turned down Joker's assistance but watching his shoulders deflate made you feel ten times more guilty.

Joker was trying to help in the only way he knew how.

You didn't move from the bed and Joker got the message. You wanted some privacy and so with a mute nod, he made himself scarce.

You waited until Joker left the bedroom to breathe a sigh of relief. You quite literally got something off your chest. You'd been bottling your trauma for a year now and parading around like everything was fine was not good for your mental health.

Joker was the only soul who knew the severity of your assault and he didn't leave like so many partners did before him.

He was okay with you being a mess and that alone made you crack a smile that quickly faded away. Being a mess was not something to celebrate. You were tired of pretending. Maybe it was high time to stop joking about it and actually schedule a therapy appointment.

Your mother was probably giving Him all the Glory if she knew you were serious about seeking professional help this time.

If you remembered correctly, Mom gave you a list of psychologists from Blüdhaven and another list that practiced here in Gotham City after you moved. You nodded to yourself and set about getting up so you could go to your room to search for it. Then you could make a quick stop in the bathroom on the trip back.

The covers were still flung back so you swung your legs over the bed and stood up, only to stagger back onto the bed when your balance failed you.

Perhaps you should've taken Joker's offer to help. You'd been bed ridden all day and your equilibrium was completely out of whack but you suffered through worse.

You toughened through it and walked down the hallway to your bedroom, quickly closing the door behind you.

Joker heard the door echo in the apartment and sighed. It was a distinct sound that rattled his nerves. You were in your room and there was no telling if you would emerge.

For now, all he could do was prepare a plate of food and hope you joined him in the kitchen.

In the meantime, he called Mac and Frost and took care of some business. You walked into the kitchen right as he was finishing up a phone call with Mac.

"I don'T care. Follow her so we don't have another repeat occurrence. Uhh she's with Sarai, find her on your own."

Joker spotted you hesitating in the archway and hurried Mac off the phone. "Yeah yeah just do your job and have fun."

Joker hung up and grabbed a small pot off the stove. He pointed at the island counter and you obeyed the silent request.

Your kitchen remained the same as you remembered it but now Joker was buzzing around it and doing a great job of fixing you a plate. He found your causal china from the cupboard and loaded a plate up with a generous helping of baked beans, a generous slice of Dad's BBQ meat, and he was currently raking some warmed up greens onto the plate. You doubted you'd eat all of it but the gesture was there.

Joker was concerned about you.

He set the pot back on the stove before pushing the plate across the island counter towards you. "Eat." He spun around to yank the silverware drawer open. "Uh hold on.."

A fork was presented to you along with a napkin or two.

You arched an eyebrow at Joker being so at ease in your kitchen but dug into your food with gusto. The flavors had time to set overnight and it was a literal party in your mouth. You felt the energy recharging your body and you did a small happy dance in your seat.

You looked up when you heard Joker snort.

He was leaning back on the sink with his arms crossed, staring at you. There was a softness in his eyes that you never seen before. He looked like a lovesick puppy and sported a dopey smile on his lips.

It sent butterflies stirring in your stomach but you pushed down the feeling and slowly ate under his watch. You were blowing on a forkful of food when he suddenly spoke.

"We should go out."

The beans on your fork dripped back onto your plate. Surely he was kidding. You downplayed the obvious. "Out? Like o-outside on the balcony?"

Joker fixed you with a deadpan glare. He grabbed a fork of his own and stole a bite of your greens. You looked on in disbelief at the amount he took and definitely not at the juices running down his chin provocatively.

He was making a show of chewing them, "Mmm that's good but uhh.. no. Out as in... I take ya out on a date." He smirked at your jaw dropping open. He felt cheeky so he scooped up some beans and fed them to you.

You jumped back last minute and had no other choice but to chew them as Joker spoke.

"Lemme spoil my Light rotten so you can see what I see. A beautiful goddess walkin' amongst us. Whaddya say pretty girl? Wanna go on a date with me?" Joker flashed you a smile.

"I.. but you.." You stuttered. Joker played along with your lack of excuses.

He twirled his hands in a circle, "But whaT, Bunny?"

"You seem to forget you're a wanted criminal with the entire city on the hunt for you! We can't just go out! I mean... what if you get caught or um.." You stared at the concrete poured countertops as if they held the answers you needed.

Joker laughed and propped his elbow up on the surface. He was glad to know your only reservations were about his safety and not about being in a foul mood to go out.

He drummed his fingers on the counter and shrugged his shoulders.

"So? I wanna take my girl out. That's a uhh, risk, I'm willin to take. If you don't wanna go just say so. Orrrr is it something else holding you back? Don't wanna be seen with me? Is that it?"

You were quick to deny, "NO! That's not it! I-I.. it's the other way round! I'm not worth all the fuss, Joker."

Joker growled and smacked his hands down, causing the plate and other items on the counter to rattle briefly. You flinched when he rounded the counter to tip your chin back.

Joker knew you were still skittish with physical touch but he couldn't help himself. He brushed his lips against yours so you could feel the honesty dripping from his lips.

"An author I know once penned. 'Let it be known all across Greece, that I, a lowly human, cherish and bow before the feet of a goddess. Should she smite me here and now, I will undoubtedly perish as a satisfied man.'"

Hearing Joker quote your books was like a shot of tequila without a lime.

It spoke to how much he valued you as a person and as an author while still paying homage to his burning desire for you.

His shaky sigh fanned over your face and you closed your eyes from the intimate contact. Your instincts were screaming at you to run run run, however you were a woman and a very attractive man was declaring his devotion to you. You stayed rooted in place.

Your heart skipped and you licked your lips, unknowingly swiping Joker's.

"Happy." Joker was confused until you finished your sentence by correcting the book quote. "Sebastian said he'd perish a happy man, not satisfied."

You panted in the space between Joker's mouth and yours. He was so close it hurt.

"Same thing." Joker shortened the distance and captured your lips with a groan. How long had he starved himself of this pleasure? A week too long.

You tasted so sweet and felt so soft– a literal treat for a man touch starved. He couldn't stop himself from grabbing you by the waist and hoisting you up on the counter. Joker didn't part for air and you clung to him tighter.

Your legs naturally parted to allow Joker room to step in between them and you wrapped your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss.

Where everyone else was closed off, somehow it felt right to let Joker in. Despite your fears and unresolved trauma, you could trust Joker with your body.

You could tell he was holding back (you swooned at his self-restraint) and a part of you was grateful when he pulled back. It was too much too soon.

He leveled his breathing and rested his forehead against yours, "Y/n, you're worth everything. Let me do this, hm?"

You gazed into Joker's eyes. This meant a lot to him although your current level of confidence couldn't grasp why. You just had to blindly trust that Joker had your best interests at heart.

"Okay."

"Okay... what?" He pressed. He never broke eye contact with you which didn't help you think straight. You could drown in his sea of moss green.

"Um, y-yes I wanna go on a d-date with.. with you."

Joker looked like a kid in a candy store. He couldn't stop smiling and almost kissed you again but backed away at the last minute. He saw you breathe a sigh of relief and knew he made the right decision.

"Ya won't regret it. Now! Let's spoil my Bunny rotten shall we?" Joker bopped you on the nose.

Just what did you sign up for?

It was impossible for someone with your skin color to truly blush but you could feel your skin boiling with all the attention Joker bestowed you.

He encouraged you to wash up and change into something that was easy to get in and out of before ushering you out of the apartment. You ended up in a pair of beat up sweats and one of his shirts. You were giving bum city realness and felt like it too.

Joker also changed to blend in better– if being disguised as a sexy mafia boss was his definition of 'blending in.'

Every female in a fifty mile radius eyed Joker like the piece of meat he was. The sad part, he knew he looked fine and fed off the energy.

He wore another delicious all black suit with gold cufflinks and a matching watch on his arm. He walked with a purpose and kept you safely tucked in the crook of his arm.

Male and females glared at you in envy as this mysterious male guided you into Gotham City's elite boutique. You were embarrassed to say the least.

You only been in here once to browse around for your American GreatRead's award dress before Cindy hooked you up with a custom designer.

Only celebrities and the upper echelon of Gotham City dared to step foot into Tashio and Joker dragged you in here in your beat up house clothes.

You and Joker hadn't made it a foot into the store when a woman with beautiful ebony skin strutted over. "May I help you two?"

Joker took off his shades to inspect her more closely. He was forced to keep his mask on lest everyone see his scars but his presence still commanded respect. You were amazed at how he slicked his hair back so the green streaks didn't show. It was slowly fading and he didn't bother dying it back since he knew you loved his natural hair color.

Just another way he was changing himself for you.

"Yes. My girl and I are going out tonight. Black tie. There's no limit and don't listen to her suggestions, she's errr modest." He nudged you forward so the saleswoman could take a look at you.

You almost snapped your neck to glare at Joker.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You gritted.

The woman got straight to business. "Understood. Any preference of designers sir and will the two of you be matching? Oh, and what's your size?" She spoke to you directly at the end but Joker replied on your behalf. "No, yessss, and she's a...."

Joker paused to look you over. You bashfully looked away as his eyes roamed over your curves.

If anyone else stared at you in such a way you'd be disgusted, but Joker's lustful gaze made you feel desired and a touch confident. He locked eyes with you as he spoke.

"She's a (insert dress size)." You knew he was smiling underneath his face mask. The cocky clown was right..

"Will you be staying for the fitting? Sir?" The saleswoman cleared her throat to get his attention. "Excuse me sir?"

J's gaze was still on you when he replied, "Mhm." He didn't catch the saleswoman's smile.

"Very well.. Please, come with me." She waved the two of you further into the store and asked for your name. You complimented her bantu knots and her striking blue eyeliner and she in turn admired your work in literature.

And of course that launched a discussion about your novels. You could talk for hours about your work.

By the time the three of you reached the actual showroom, you were perfectly at ease. Joker noted how your demeanor mellowed out around women and decided to fall back to give you some space.

You hardly noticed his absence. You still had no clue where Joker was taking you tonight except that it was a black tie event.

Kendra, your styling consultant, sat you down and asked you questions while her assistant ran around to stock a private room with the choices that you unknowingly made so far.

You ruled out anything short and in your least favorite color and Kendra listened attentively while making mental notes of your preferences based on your answers.

You were surprised by how seamless the whole process was especially when Kendra informed you she already had some ensembles picked out for you to try on. You passed by a gorgeous pair of shoes on the way to the fitting room and she assured you that she would also assist in picking out any accessories and shoes to go with your final selection.

Joker was making due on his promise to spoil you.

Speaking of the clown, you finally acknowledged that he wasn't with you. He must've disappeared while you weren't looking. Hopefully he stayed out of trouble while you shopped around.

Kendra was explaining the store's wide collection of designers when a commotion on the floor gained her attention.

"Sir! Can you please return that to its original display?!"

Both you and Kendra turned to spot a redhead running behind Joker, who was carrying an entire mannequin over his shoulder like it was a normal occurrence.

You facepalmed as Kendra chuckled at the sight. She waved her co-worker off. The redhead was miffed but stormed off with a grumble under her breath. This is why she liked when men left the store.

Joker set the mannequin down once he reached your side. "I li-ke this one." He said.

Kendra didn't have the heart to tell the man this design was a display only. Her fingers were crossed that they had your size still in stock.

"Good choice sir, she'll look amazing in Valentino. Would you like to try it on, Y/n?"

You glared at Joker for his lack of manners and studied the gown. You were worried about your chest behaving, or rather, not in the off the shoulder gown.

"Uh it's beautiful but.."

Joker hummed and tugged the material down. You gasped the same time Kendra fixed her mouth to scold him.

"It has a built-in bra Bunny. The uh.. girls won't go anywhere you don't want em' to." He let go of the gown and shooed you towards your private room. "Go try it on."

Your ears were redder than the dress and Kendra did her best to stifle her laugh while following you back to the fitting room. She excused herself to go check inventory (thank the gods they had your size left!) and returned to help you in it.

Just like Joker said, your cleavage wasn't a problem. You stared at your reflection in the mirror and twirled absentmindedly.

"Your boyfriend has good taste."

You stopped twirling to stare at Kendra. She was smiling and didn't know the weight of her words.

"Not many partners stay for the fittings let alone make good selections. He's a keeper." She fixed the seam around your arm as you stared off in thought.

Is that what you and Joker looked like to outsiders? Like a couple? You bit your lip to stop your smile.

"He's not my boyfriend." You denied. Kendra scoffed.

"With the way he looks at you? The devil is a lie and denial is a river in Africa. You may be delulu, but that man is down bad for you. You look good girl. Do you want to show him this one?"

You were most definitely in denial. There was no way that Joker would commit to anyone let alone you— especially now since he knew about your past, but you begrudgingly nodded at Kendra.

However a knock on the door interrupted you. The same redhead from before poked her head through the door.

"Sorry Kendra but your client asked me to send these two in. Said something about his goddess needed to try them on. He's not feeling the red anymore." She rolled her eyes before handing your consultant two more gowns for you to try.

It's like Joker read your mind; you were a bit indecisive and needed more options.

Kendra thanked her colleague and unzipped the dress bag open to reveal a high collar teal gown. It was a pencil silhouette and looked very chic on the hanger.

You were hesitant but stepped into the dress only to turn your nose up as the fabric accented your curves a little too much.

You saw Joker's vision here but you weren't feeling confident in it. Kendra noticed your displeasure and didn't bother fastening the buttons near the neck. "Let's try the next one shall we?" She politely deflected.

She knew you too well for someone you just met. You let out a heavy sigh and stripped to your bra and panties again.

Joker meant well but what if you didn't find anything to wear to his surprise date? You probably tried on a dozen gowns, each one more gorgeous than the last, but none of them felt right.

Kendra carefully held a deep indigo number for you to step into. The second it glided over your skin, you broke out in goosebumps. The rich color looked divine on your darker skin and once Kendra zipped it up and you saw the dramatic ruffles, you knew.

She had a feeling this was the one too and smiled as she smoothed and tucked the gown a certain way to earn your approval.

You had yet to stop smiling at your reflection in the mirror. It was dramatic and elegant and you felt glamorous while wearing it. It would stand up perfectly with Joker's dark suit tonight.

"I-I wanna show him this one." You murmured. Kendra agreed and gave you a pair of sample heels to walk in.

The door opened and you walked down the short hallway and turned the corner to find Joker sitting on a couch, fiddling with his watch. He was blowing a raspberry but felt a presence in the room. His jade eyes immediately locked on you and then his heart stopped.

He was utterly speechless. You played with your fingers before clearing your throat.

"D-Do you like it, J?" Nervous was an understatement as Joker stood up without a word.

He came to a stop in front you and pulled his mask down far enough to kiss you right there on the showroom floor.

You jumped at the initial contact but let his lips dance across yours. Joker's lips were like satin to the touch despite his scars and you firmly believed he kissed you differently every time you lips met his.

You forgot you were in public when he licked the root of your mouth with his tongue.

You shoved him away none too gently. "J, stop!" You hid your shaking hands behind your back and glanced around.

Kendra had her back turned– pretending to straighten a display dress on its hanger better and no one else was in the nearby vicinity. Joker pulled you right back in his embrace. He felt you trembling but pursued his goal.

"So? Let them.." He kissed your cheek, "Mmm, let them see.. just how much.. you're wanted." He said in between pecking your face.

It was light and innocent, nothing heavy to rattle your nerves but you still grimaced each time Joker's lips came in contact with your skin. You hated how quickly your mood changed.

Joker was always mindful of your body language and pulled away to fix his mask back over his mouth.

You didn't shy away from Joker as a person per se, but rather at the fact he was wasting his passion on damaged goods. You still felt lesser than. That would change by the end of the night.

Joker sighed to himself before waving Kendra and her assistant over. If they saw anything, their poker faces were stone cold.

Joker shoved his fists into his pockets and nodded over at you.

"Get my Light some uh proper heels to wear and drown her in jewels. Gold she uhh, looks the best in gold.."

Joker watched you rub the back of your neck. "I want her hair and makeup done too. Uh, I'll be back."

Once Joker issued his requests, he stepped away, leaving you with a smug Kendra and a clueless assistant calling the inhouse hair and makeup crew so they could expect your arrival.

Kendra offered you a napkin to wipe your face. Did the man have to slobber all over it? At least he wasn't wearing his clown makeup.

"I thought he wasn't your boyfriend Y/n?" Kendra snickered.

You snatched the napkin out of her hands. "Oh shut up." The both of you shared a laugh.

Joker stepped outside to make some calls to ensure his plans for the night went off without a hitch.

It was a bit of a risk to be out in public– especially where he was taking you, yet one he was willing to take if it helped boost your confidence. Your self esteem was at an all time low and you were having thoughts that weren't befitting the new nickname he wanted to test out.

He wasn't lying when he said you were a goddess meant to be cherished and worshipped.

Tonight would be a mere glimpse of what he would do for the rest of your life— if you'll have him.

He lit up a few cigs in between calls and before he knew it, time had gotten away from him. Joker stepped back inside to check on you.

A lady on the showroom floor said you were finishing up with makeup so he took care of the bill while he waited. You wouldn't let him hear the end of it if he didn't actually pay.

He was eyeing a display case of designer handbags when an employee cleared her throat to get his attention. Joker sent her a sharp glare over his shoulder.

Something about those abnormally green eyes frightened her. "Ahh uh.. she's.. your date is ready s-sir."

He loved scaring people, that would never change no matter how closely he embraced the light.

Joker followed the associate to a waiting room although he didn't have to wait for long, you were already walking in like the ethereal deity you are.

The dress by itself was stunning but in his absence you donned a pair of drop earrings, your wrist was adorned with gold, and the hair team did a phenomenal job in taming your curls. Your hair was beautiful on a normal day but they combed out any knots and let it cascade down in its natural curl pattern. It was elegantly styled but pinned back to allow your jewelry and natural beauty to be the main focus.

If you wore makeup they did an outstanding job highlighting your natural features.

If you preferred a more natural approach, Joker smirked at the subtle lip gloss on your plump lips. He wanted to kiss it off but all in good time. The next time he claimed your lips he wanted you to be a willing participant.

You declined a handbag since you left the penthouse with only your keys and phone in hand and Joker was currently carrying both for you. Imagine your surprise when you discovered your evening gown had pockets. It was a blessing from above that it was the one for you.

All in all, you looked breathtaking and you had an ounce of confidence to yourself.

You walked over, smiling faintly at Joker. He was ever the gentleman, bowing at the waist and kissing the back of your hand before offering you his arm.

The employees who were gathered looked on in awe. It was something out of a fairy tale, the two of you looked so perfect together! If only they knew it was the infamous Joker who was spoiling you and not some average guy.

As if you wanted a normal man after being with Joker.

You giggled to yourself as J escorted you out of Tashio's and towards a car waiting on the curb.

A driver held the door open and you slid inside with Joker following behind you. "Are ya hungry, Bunny?" He asked as you got settled.

You urged him to put his seatbelt on and he did so with a dramatic roll of his eyes. The things he did for you.. First he legally pays for a service, the next he wears a seatbelt. Would you somehow convince him to file his taxes next?

If you asked, he'd consider it.

A few hours had passed since leaving the apartment and it was nearing dinner time. You had worked up an appetite after shopping and then sitting in a hair stylist chair for so long.

"Yeah dinner sounds good."

Joker played with your chain bracelet as the car drove off to his plans for the night. His special surprise burned inside of his pocket but he would wait until a better time arose to present it to you. He didn't like your prolonged silence though.

He hoped you weren't thinking negatively and digging yourself into a funk. "Hey," Joker called your name.

You tore your eyes from the traffic outside the window and met endless pools of green "Hm?"

"You ok?" He asked.

You grabbed Joker's hand, intertwining it with your own and admired the color contrast. Joker didn't care that his tan skin clashed with your darker brown, he was too busy celebrating this mini victory.

You initiated physical contact with him. He was overjoyed when he kissed your hand and you didn't flinch.

"I will be." 'Now that I have you.' You thought the last bit to yourself.

His gaze never left your face until the driver announced the two of you had arrived. You were curious and excited to see why Joker had you all dressed up. He stepped out of the car first and turned around to help you out.

Your heels clicked as they settled on the sideway in front of a tall stone building alit from within.

Then it all made sense why you were dressed to the nines.

You heard about the place but never knew where it was located. Another Michelin star restaurant hidden in the heart of The Bowery district with a ridiculously long wait list and allegedly, a menu well worth the wait.

You had no doubt that Joker threatened someone, (or worse) to get a table on such short notice.

Joker watched your eyes sparkle in awe as he guided you inside the restaurant. He stopped at the hostess booth to whisper something in their ear but you were distracted by the ambiance.

You were quick to notice that the space used to be an old ballroom but was converted over time into a restaurant.

The ceiling still had its picturesque artwork and elaborate crown molding but the pièces de résistance was the live tree growing in the middle of the room. Its branches provided a much needed element of greenery amidst all the glamor and acted as a natural privacy divider for the surrounding tables.

It defied all logic by thriving amongst marble and stone and a massive two story chandelier hung above it, casting an ethereal glow on the healthy leaves and the people seated below it. The place was filled with magic.

You turned your head when a male appeared and addressed you and Joker.

"Ahem, your table is waiting."

He patiently waited for you and J to follow him. On the far side of the room, a giant spiral staircase winded up so close to the chandelier, you could reach out and touch the glass beads. Joker grabbed your wrist before you could.

He didn't want you reaching too far over the railing and risk hurting yourself. You were way too clumsy for your own good.

The second story of the ballroom overlooked the restaurant below and you were stunned by the more intimate seating available up here.

Unlike downstairs, each table was spread further out from the others by vine dividers, giving a guest the feeling of a space all to themselves. Joker made sure his table was well off from the others so he could remove his mask in peace.

Not like anyone could see him with the soft candlelight casting shadows everywhere but he wasn't about to take any chances.

The waiter presented the private area with a flourish of his arms. The tablecloth was stark white and fine china sat overtop along with candles, fresh flora, and silverware– ready to enjoy. There was a perfect blend of elegance and greenery that matched the restaurant's overall aesthetic.

Joker glared at the waiter who tried to hold a chair out for you. Joker waited until he was gone before removing his mask. Then you finally got to see his scarred lips tugging up in a smile.

You sat down and let Joker push you towards the table however; you jumped when he left a kiss on the back of your neck. Joker mumbled out a sorry right as another water approached the table with a pitcher of water.

He poured you a glass and handed you and Joker menus, "Welcome to Eden. I will be your only server tonight."

He nodded at Joker and you surmised that J paid him off.

Not many people could stomach seeing Joker and his scars or turn a blind eye to a known fugitive being out in public. The NDA check must be huge.

You opened the menu and scanned it over. Everything sounded delicious but you couldn't decide what to get even after the waiter walked off to give you some time.

You glanced over the top of your menu at Joker. He had yet to look at tonight's selection. He couldn't take his eyes off of you and sent a lazy smile your way when you caught him staring.

Your ears were burning with how much he made you flustered. You fiddled with your earrings and focused back on the menu until Joker spoke up.

"Get whatever ya want, Bunny. If you don't li-ke it.. I'll uhh, give it to your security." You tilted your head in confusion so he elaborated. "You can't see them but four men are guarding us right now sooooo order whatever you wanT."

You shifted in your seat and coyly glanced around the room.

No one looked out of place in the posh atmosphere but you knew Joker wouldn't lie about something so serious. You hadn't forgotten about that mysterious envelope from the beach house.

Someone had Joker spooked and he wasn't about to mess around with your safety. It meant everything to him. Unfortunately it was another thing to worry about. As if you needed more stress on your plate.

You shook your head and read a promising entree but your attention was distracted by Joker's fingers playfully walking around the white tablecloth getting closer and closer to you.

You bit back a smile and glanced at J who was having a grand time playing around. The candlelight cast a glow on his tanned skin that made him more handsome than usual. You rested your hand on the table and he wasted no time brushing his pinky finger against yours.

Joker's jade eyes darted up to your e/c eyes. "Whatcha gettin?"

"Huh?" You were expecting him to ask you something else, not that. "Oh.. uh I don't know yet."

In seconds, Joker snatched your hand up into his hold and fixed you with a heated stare. "Need some help, doll?"

How was his hand so warm or maybe why were yours so cold? You barely nodded but you saw Joker grin. Nothing got past his perceptive eye.

He leaned over and pointed out some good choices and really sold you on what to order.

For all you knew, Joker was the head chef with how he explained each entree and he painted a clear picture of what you'd get if you ordered it. You decided on an appetizer while your main course cooked and Joker ordered something you couldn't even pronounce with a glass of dark liquor.

You didn't know Joker drank but he polished off the glass– not once letting go of your hand.

He never let go, even when the first course arrived. Joker surprised you yet again by dragging your chair closer to his.

"This okay?" He asked after seeing you tense up in your seat.

You were fine being across from Joker but now you sat side by side. Your bare leg brushed up against his suit and it made goosebumps break out over your skin. This was Joker, not your ex. You had to trust J and give him a chance. He didn't deserve to be iced out for someone else's mistakes.

That was the mantra you told yourself as the waiter returned to refill the glasses with water.

You and Joker shared the appetizer over light banter and he caught you up on what he did for the last few days. He was leading up to his trip to the jewelers and what he purchased, when the main entree arrived at the table.

You missed Joker's irritated growl but the night was still young. He had plenty of time to show off the gift he bought you.

You were about to start eating but Joker took your utensils and cut up your main entree for you. It was an odd gesture but Joker wasn't deterred by your confusion. He just patiently waited until you opened your mouth to feed you.

"How does it taste?" He asked in between bites with that raspy tone you knew all too well.

It stirred up butterflies in your stomach and made you feel wanted but it was neither the time nor the place for such emotions.

The food lived up to its coveted reviews. No wonder people waited months to a year for a reservation. Each morsel melted in your mouth and had you craving for more.

You didn't know how Joker fed you and still had the time to eat himself but he was not playing around with his whole, spoil you rotten agenda.

Who knew being fed could be so hot? If anyone else tried such a thing, you would be insulted but because Joker was the one doing it, it was sensual and thrilling. He watched your lips each time you accepted a bite and the little hums you made were driving him insane.

And when he (purposefully) missed and got a bit of sauce on your face, he groaned watching your tongue dart out to lick it clean.

He wanted to do that but he didn't know if he was allowed to.

You let him hold your hand all night but there was still a wary gleam lingering in your eye. He kissed you back at your apartment with no issues but when he kissed the back of your neck at the dinner table, you jumped. Your mood changed like the wind. Joker honestly didn't know how to approach you after discovering the truth.

He didn't want to scare you but he wanted you so bad. How could he seduce you when you were hardly in the mood?

"J? D-Did you hear me? I asked if I could order dessert." you called his name again to get his attention.

He must've lost track of time while thinking. You were gazing up into his candlelit emeralds waiting for an answer. All the plates were clear of food and Joker wondered how he failed to notice such a crucial detail..

You said his name again and squeezed his hand. J was quick to reply. "Uh yeah. Do ya know–"

You cut him off, "I want the Gotham City style cheesecake with a raspberry compote and um c-can you get the tiramisu? I wanna try it and.. the macaroons." If only you were this decisive when it came to picking dinner.

He chuckled to himself but flagged down the waiter to put in the order. "Say the woo~ord and it's yours, Goddess."

The new nickname punched you straight in the gut.

Joker was distracted but you still stared at him in disbelief. He didn't use a nickname that he didn't think was befitting of you and that fact made you tear up. Even after knowing the truth, he still held you in such high regard.

Joker was finishing up ordering your trio of desserts when he heard the one sound that could bring him to his knees. The sound of you crying.

The candlelight highlighted a tear rolling down your cheek and he quickly wiped it away to preserve your beauty. He was about to ask what was bothering you when you spoke up.

"D-Don't say it if you don't m-mean it.." You shook your head. "I can't take it if you don't mean it."

So you heard his new nickname for you. Joker felt now was the right time as any.

Joker kept silent as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a box. It was wrapped in your favorite color with a big white bow on top.

"What... is this for me?"

Joker nodded mutely and pushed it closer to you.

He wasn't giving you anything to go on so you were left to grab the box and tear it open. An official Jacob and Co. box was inside and you popped open the lid only to gasp seeing the custom jewelry inside.

"J..." You marveled at the tiny gold lighthouse with a real diamond serving as the beam of light cushioned on black velvet. You were going to read out the inscription along the base but Joker beat you to it.

"My Light in a sea of darkness.' You can doubt all you want but there's no mistaking what you are to me. You're my Light, my goddess. What more could I ever need?"

You were at a loss for words, staring into Joker's sincere gaze. He didn't stumble or stress any syllables; his words were raw and meant to soothe your soul with their honesty.

His smile was faint when he stood up to fasten your new necklace on. It was cold at first but it settled perfectly on the swallow of your collarbone. He nodded to himself seeing it on you and his fond grin caused more tears to form.

You probably looked ridiculous crying in the middle of a ritzy restaurant but it was all you could do after such a declaration.

Right as you were parting your lips to speak, an orchestra on the main floor let a few test notes float through the air. The last thing you were expecting was live music and Joker smirked at your bewildered face.

"Would ya like to dance?" Joker asked, changing the subject.

It took you a few seconds to recover. "I-I... I didn't see a dance floor."

The orchestra began playing a sultry instrumental and you noticed a few couples making their way down to the main floor to dance. You were cross on if you wanted to go although Joker was already reaching for his mask to cover back up.

"Sweetheart, we're in a ballroom you can dance anywhere buuut my question is.... Do you want to?" He stood up and straightened his suit. Who was this dapper man? It couldn't be the same Joker that terrorized Gotham City daily.

Joker really transformed into a different person when he was with you. You were the only soul who would see him this way. He put so much trust in you; it was high time you returned the favor.

Your dessert was soon forgotten as you placed your hand in Joker's.

He guided you down the stairs towards the main floor where a designated area was cleared away. The musicians were mid song when Joker led you into the crowd.

You stumbled in your heels as Joker swept you up into his embrace. You were nearly eye level with the madman with the added height and Joker loved the newfound connection more than anything. However there was a mischievous gleam in his eye that gave you pause.

A new song began, one you quickly recognized. Your head shot up to stare at the musicians playing. There was a mixture of ethnicities so it was plausible they were current with various genres and artists but still..

It wouldn't be hard for Joker to put in a request when you weren't looking.

Joker paid you no mind as he swayed you gently in between the other couples. You were speechless when Joker began to hum the lyrics with confidence.

You didn't know that Joker could sing. He didn't look the type yet he constantly surprised you. His voice reminded you of the old crooners that your uncle used to play on his record when you used to visit.

"They don't make music like this no mo Y/n/n!" Uncle Cedrick obviously never heard Givēon before. New artists were making classic tunes sound more and more popular these days.

Somewhere in between the intro and the first verse, Joker decided to sing along and let the lyrics take hold. He looked so sure of himself yet he stumbled on a line when he noticed that you were staring.

He spun you further away from the crowd so you could hear him serenade you better. His voice floated into your ear like honey.

But I can't make a scene, but I can't make it seem

Like I want you...

Even if it's true...

Even if it's true.

You panicked when Joker let out a shaky sigh and dropped his head in the crook of your neck. There was no way you were mistaken here. "Joker?"

"Shhh. Just..." He moved your hand to rest above his heart. More tears blurred your vision when you felt Joker's heartbeat.

It was beating like a drum.

Sometimes he wished you knew but he could disguise the truth for as long as it takes. Were you really so blind to Joker's feelings? And you called yourself a romance writer. Your radar was supposed to be impeccable on picking up love!

The chandelier overhead twinkled down on the two of you like diamonds and it felt as if no one else was in the room except you and Joker.

You were broken, damaged goods and Joker originally believed he was incapable of love, yet he found the will when it came to you. He waited so long for something good to come his way and finally– he had it.

You might think otherwise but Joker knew you were absolute perfection in his eyes. You were worth the wait. In time you would open up and love him unconditionally. He knew that now.

It was selfish and wrong of him to pressure you into anything. If he did then he'd be no better than your ex. The last thing you needed was history to repeat itself. What you needed was time and space to heal.

Joker nodded to himself and regrettably let you go. You were confused when he stopped dancing and looked away.

"Mm, your dessert is probably at the uh table. Let's head back."

He was shutting you out and that would not do. You put your foot down and tugged on Joker's wrist. He looked at you with an arched brow.

You didn't care that you were in the middle of the ballroom.

You were tired of Joker changing the subject at the drop of a hat! You were tired of being sheltered from your pain. It was time you accepted it and finally moved on– moved onto someone better. You were not going to let Joker walk away.

It was time you threw caution to the wind. The song was ending and your heart echoed the lyrics Givēon sang.

But if you really love me, say it now.

You shortened the distance and cupped Joker's face. He hated that he shied away from your touch. He didn't want to get his hopes up if you were just reacting to mend his hurt feelings. He wanted you to be sincere with your affection.

"T-Take me home, tell me in the space we created– but. Please don't give up on me when I need you more than ever. I-I.. I need you, J. I do."

You clung onto the back of his neck and urged him to bend down. You couldn't rest your forehead against his until he leaned down to your height. He did and you locked eyes with him right there on the ballroom floor.

Your eyes pleaded with Joker. They spoke a thousand words you were so afraid to speak aloud. He searched your colored eyes for a glimmer of hope and found so much more.

It was then you had the pleasure of seeing a man like Joker break.

His eyes fluttered closed and it took everything in his power not to fall to his knees in front of all these people. All in due time, but first he had to get you home.

He made an odd motion with his hands and in seconds, he was whisking you towards the exit. You squeaked in shock and you barely kept up with Joker's long strides.

"J, w-what about the bill?! M-My dessert!"

He growled and pushed the restaurant doors open. The temperature had dropped the past hour or two that you and Joker were indoors and your bare arms shivered once exposed to the elements.

Joker shrugged off his suit jacket and gave it to you. He had a crazed look in his eyes as he waited on the curb.

"Don't care. I'm takin' ya home." He shot you a heated glare, "You'll get your dessert, Princess."

You couldn't recall the last time he used that nickname but it made a smile break out over your face and a liquid fire seep into your core.

It had been too long since you felt a burning desire spread all over. You couldn't lie. You were a little scared but this was Joker. He wouldn't do anything you didn't want. And you wanted him.

A black unmarked car screeched to a halt near the curb. It was hardly in park when Joker yanked the door open for you. "Get in, Bunny."

You knew once you got inside there would be no turning back. You could do this and so with a deep breath, you embraced the unknown.

There was enough sexual tension brewing in the elevator to fuel a bomb.

Surprisingly, Joker behaved himself during the ride back to your apartment yet he practically chased you to the main elevator the second the car arrived at the lobby drop off.

You could only run so fast in heels yet you beat Joker inside.

You broke out into a smile as the elevator doors began to trap you inside with the clown. He tossed a lecherous grin your way and was seconds away from jumping your bones, when the doors slid back open and one of your neighbors walked in.

She did a double take at Joker but quickly recovered to smile at you. Her eyes widened even more after taking in your elegant ball gown.

"Oh wow Y/n! That dress looked stunning on you! I hope you enjoyed your night."

She mashed the button for the ninth floor and brought attention to the time glowing on the panel. It was nearing eleven pm. You hardly noticed that it was so late.

The elevator lights glinted against your jewelry and caught her eye. "Aww that's so cute! It's a little lighthouse. Do you like the beach or something?" She gestured to your necklace.

You laughed awkwardly, "Oh I've only been once but I loved it."

Joker chuckled under his breath and gained your neighbor's attention.

She eyed him up and down but kept her thots to herself. She'd never seen you around with a partner before but sheesh, you knew how to pick em. The man was so fine, he should be illegal.

She dragged her eyes away from Joker and back over to you. "Really? Just once? What was your favorite part? I love sunbathing myself."

Of all the neighbors in the building, why did miss blabbermouth known for her lengthy mindless chats have to board the elevator tonight?

You knew Joker was probably thinking a million and one ways to kill the poor lady. Hopefully he could steady his hands for a few more levels.

You thought back to her question and frowned. You couldn't remember anything remarkable about the beach. You loved it for different reasons.

Mainly the way Joker took you so passionately in the sand or how the light from the rotating coastal structure illuminated his raw beauty for only you to see. You couldn't tell her you didn't visit the beach during the day like a normal person.

Your visit to the beach was memorable because of your carnal escapade with Joker under the stars.

Joker declared you as his Light, the same namesake that now proudly hung from your neck. You couldn't tell her any of that so you made something up on the spot.

"I um, I liked the heat? It was... hot. Sweltering."

Joker failed to stifle his laughter and your neighbor glared at the both of you sideways. Such an odd answer..

Thankfully the lift arrived at the ninth floor and she ended the idle chat. "Alright then, well enjoy the rest of your night, Y/n. Oh and don't forget! We have the next tenant meeting coming up this week! Bring your friend."

She winked at Joker but he could care less. His eyes were glued on you.

The elevator doors closed and resumed its ascent to your private floor. It was so quiet in the metal box, you could hear your uneven breathing.

You glanced at Joker out of the corner of your eye but he was frozen like a statue. You honestly expected him to jump you the second your neighbor was gone but since when was Joker predictable?

Your focus was on the floor indicator as it displayed the tenth floor. Almost there..

Joker waited until you least expected it to make his move.

It was concerning yet electrifying to know you were alone with Joker, completely at his mercy. The lift was passing the maintenance floor when Joker stepped behind you to inhale your unique scent.

His nose faintly brushed the sensitive skin along the nape of your neck and you shivered. Then his hot exhale disturbed the hairs on your neck. He was doing all of this on purpose.

He wanted to torture you, it was the only explanation for the tumultuous tease that was Joker kissing you right where the clasp of your necklace met your skin. You swore his teeth tugged the chain a bit, when the doors dinged open.

The air was getting way too stuffy so you stumbled out as quickly as you could.

Joker's chuckle echoed in the short hallway to your front door. He took his time strolling behind you like a predator and patiently waited as you fumbled with the keys. He lost count how many times you dropped them or missed the keyhole entirely.

Eventually you unlocked the door, however you didn't venture inside. There was an unspoken command in the air not to. Joker was glad that you heeded the warning.

Joker's hand covered yours atop the doorknob. You were frozen in place as he bent down to whisper in your ear.

"When you walk through that door.. you're mine. There's. No. Going. Back. Anything you want, I'll give it to ya but you have to ask for it. If it's uh, too much, say the woo~oord and I'll give you more. Tonight's about you, only you.. buT, I gotta warn ya. I will be selfish and take and take... and take."

You whimpered when Joker nipped the curve of your ear.

The sting was nothing compared to the heat pooling in your core. You surprised yourself with how aroused you were and Joker had yet to begin. It was as if he could tell just how antsy you were. His sudden burst of laughter was strained by his lust.

"Are ya ready for that Y/n? I won't hold back. I uh... well I don't think I can." He pressed you further into the door with his body and you felt his erection dig into your lower back.

"Do you want me?" He asked while kissing your shoulder.

You could do this. All you had to do was open the door.

No more pretending, no more running away when things got too intense. You had to fully participate this time and not drift off into a headspace. Tonight you would give all of yourself over to a man known for his maddening greed. It was scary; however, you were oddly enthusiastic.

You wanted him to have it all. To have you.

You turned the doorknob and walked into your foyer with a madman hot on your heels.

[that-annoying-ass-hellspaw]

Let's do it

Despite being on Tumblr for...well, quite a while...for reasons, I'm am completely lost in terms of actually posting anything. But here we go- motivation finally hit- and I'm truly hoping I might make something out of this. So not to make this longer than it should be:

Hello, whoever may be reading this! It's my first time posting, so I'm just gonna make a list of everything that interests me and about what I will probably post in the near future. Before I get to that I just want to apologize about my english which at times may not be the best since it isn't my first languange. Now, let's list it all down.

MOVIES/TV SHOWS

Marvel (MCU, FOX (I know they're technically the same now but yeah), some comics)

The Walking Dead (main show, comics, Dead City, Daryl Dixon, The Ones Who Live)

Transformers (Bayverse, Knightverse, Prime, Cyberverse, IDW comics)

Sherlock (BBC, Warner Bros., Granada, books)

Supernatural (until season 6)

Good Omens (tv show, book)

Twin Peaks

Pirates of the Caribbean

Horror movies (A Nightmare on Elm Street, Scream, Child's Play, Alien...)

Classics (Fight Club, Seven, anything Tarantino's, Back to the Future...)

Mad Max (all movies)

Tim Burton (pretty much all movies)

Twilight (that's just for laughs...not it isn't)

Malcolm in the Middle

Monty Python

Fawlty Towers

House MD

ANIMATED SHOWS/ANIME

Hellaverse (Helluva Boss, Hazbin Hotel)

Arcane

Haikyuu

The Seven Deadly Sins

Wolf's Rain

Cowboy Bebop

Attack on Titan

Redline

Hellsing (Gonzo, Ultimate, Ultimate Abridged)

Trigun (Trigun, Stampede)

Avatar: The Last Airbender (show, comics)

Lego Ninjago

BOOKS

Stephen King (It, The Shining, The Green Mile...)

Grishaverse

Psychological/horror/gore books (The Silent Patient, Lapvona, The Discomfort of Evening, Tender is the Flesh...)

VIDEOGAMES

Resident Evil (games, animated shows, animated movies)

Silent Hill

Tomb Raider

Uncharted

Genshin Impact

Call of Duty (remakes)

Horizon (both games)

The Last of Us

Devil May Cry (animated shows for now)

Ghost of Tsushima

The Arcana

Five Nights at Freddy's

MUSIC

Classic rock bands (AC/DC, Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, Queen, Gun's Roses...)

Punk rock bands (Green Day, The Misfits, Ramones, The Offspring...)

Metal bands (Metallica, Iron Maiden, Black Sabbath, Slipknot, System of a Down...)

Other (Ghost (are they actually metal or not? no idea), Lady Gaga, Pink, Roxette...)

OVERALL INTERESTS AND HOBBIES

Anything to do with philosophy or psychology- like count me in please. Theories about the universe? Yes please. After-death-scenario debates? Of course. Questioning one's own existence? All the time.

There's a lot of black humor and cursing involved with me- hence the love for Monty Python and similar. Am I being serious? God fucking knows.

Writing. Serious writing? As in- gonna publish a New York Times best seller writing? Not really, I'm not that disciplined. Random 3am fanfiction ideas tho? Yeah, I can work with that. So I would be posting anything it would probably have to do with some of that.

Drawing. When a writing idea comes up, an oc is comes up and then you gotta draw it, right?

Architecture. As a suffering architecture student I am expected to know something about that, so anything architecture or construction or urbanism related- I will probably be interested in it.

Cooking. Not exactly a hobby but you know, I'd like to try some interesting recipes.

COMMENT

I didn't write down every single little thing I've seen, or still watch or am interested in cause there's so much stuff. This is just to get the idea about what I'd be very delighted to talk about, write about, or comment on.

If we're talking fanfiction, for many of the mentioned fandoms I've already got some stuff, or ideas at least, written down and might post it I'll see some interest. If I am to start then it would be with the band Ghost since they're pretty popular right now and I've got a nice amount of content for them.

Well- I guess that's it. Thanks again to any accidental readers, and now- let's get to posting.

[deviantartdramahub]

As I tell anyone who has been wondering what my stance is, I agree with a certain friend on everything that's going on between everyone. Situations like what is going on is why precision in handling situations exists and that you're not supposed to do things like mob people.

Imagine if you needed to make money by doing art or you'd never be financially successful (due to being broke), and you merely spoke in private about doing something to the buyer to a mutual friend. Maybe they were kidding. Maybe they were serious. Maybe they would've had a change of heart later. And so on. But that mutual friend, who you were set up to trust, gave away evidence of this exchange for purposes of mobbing, and they present it as everlasting guilt. You didn't just ruin trust in someone, you ruined their livelihood. They are broke again. Their spouses are broke. Their kids are broke. You might've just killed them. If such a seller wasn't "blocking" me, there are those of us who would just give her the money out of condolence. This is just an example of why you have to be considerate.

Keep in mind, though, this is an oversimplification of what happened anyways. It is useless in assessing what is going on. I'm mainly, err, what you might call venting.

Now you might be thinking "that's just a part of karma" or "she should've thought of that before she did her thing", and it would otherwise be at that point where I shrug my shoulders (if it wasn't so much deeper), but then you might learn just how deep the whole thing goes and how vindictive the people doing the mobbing are about it. You shouldn't defend those kinds of people, at least as wholly righteous, especially to the point where, if the "exposer" were the observer, they would be saying "that person is their alt" or "what a narcissist that person is, they'd write a whole essay about it and never once apologized" (which always raises a good point when you have to question, one, the last time someone you are against has apologized, said thank you, or properly owned up and not taken the apology back, to the point where one might say they don't trust the apology for that matter, and two, the supposed evidence, especially when it's not an animated shot of their sheer apparent vindictiveness, obessessiveness, and dark triadness that was forwarded to them, if one reads into it).

So what happened here? Sadly the usual happened.

That moment, though, when you realize many of the large scale slanderers, the one (or multiple ones?) who cite scaring someone away as a motive and paint the person who allowed friends to do that as a bully to target forevermore, but then a senior member gets outed, and suddenly the slander stops. Hmm. It's almost as if the senior member had her shoulder looking over the efforts of the slanderer and that it wasn't their own motives they were acting on. I say that rhetorically (as I would about such people lying about who their alts are) because of how obviously that's what happened. I bet though they're going to try to return to prove this wrong (also something I say rhetorically), perhaps hoping their senior-member-fueled butts being banned from the fediverse multiple times, failing to get people of their choosing banned from the fediverse, getting banned on SimilarWorlds, the punishments against them on Tumblr, their Reddit stuff being set up for removal, the senior member's falling out, and the hacking of 4chan where they operated doesn't count as a setback, because some people think that's a coincidence.

You know who you are. You know what you did. You know how you might feel. And you know who is onto you. Grow a pair. And don't use "alts", especially when, within your main identity, you are just throwing dirt. Is this how to show one can speak for oneself?

How the tables have fallen.