#i tried to write this in past tense but it was so horrible i had to switch ....

[mostlyonthefloor]

June of Jesper 1: Whisper

"So ...", Dell asks, "How's it going? Aside from the ... y'know."

Jesper sighs. His failure in the race still weighed on him. Hal had trusted him - he'd had a chance to do his leader proud, and he'd failed. Resoundingly. And although all the other Herons, including Stig, surprisingly enough, had congratulated him anyway, his guilt remained like lead in his gut.

Dell hums through a mouthful of bread. "I wouldn't worry about it. Henjak's the fastest guy I know, and Tursgurd's got the height advantage. Those legs, y'know. Long and strong. Very athletic, he is"

Jesper snorts. "Kindly never talk about Tursgurd's legs ever again."

"Hmm. Only if you pass me the cheese."

Jesper reaches into his bag and throws the cloth parcel at his friend's head. Dell dodges it with a chuckle, and it slams into the wall behind him. They both freeze for a second but the hum of chatter floating from the cracked window above continues unconcerned, and they return to their humble meal.

Jesper's brought a loaf of bread, warm and charcoal-stained from the hearth he snatched it from, and a hunk of cheese. Dell's contributed a lump of salted meat (ham would imply a degree of refinement that is rather definitively not present) and a bottle of watery wine - not enough to get either of them drunk, but enough to put a pleasant slant on their dinner.

This is a time-honoured tradition of theirs - grab whatever articles of food they can and pool them in the warmth behind Hallasholm's most infamous drinking house. When Dell's sister snarls at his approach and Jesper's stepfather conveniently forgets to prepare enough food for him, it's an easy source of food and company. The two boys an unlikely pair, but a solid one. Born and bred on the seedy northern edge of Hallasholm, they understand one another in ways that don't need to be spoken aloud.

"How's the Wolves going?", Jesper asks. "Rollond doing well? He seems like he is."

Dell laughs, launching into an anecdote from the other day involving Sigurd, Rollond, and a deer that wandered into their camp. Jesper settles in to listen.

Nobody really knows they're friends - Dell mostly likes to hang out with Rollond and his social circle, all sons of well-to-do wolfship captains and artisans. You'd think Dell, a wily but good-natured son of an invalid weaver and an absent Iberian sailor, short and dark against Skandian golden blonde, would stick out like a sore thumb, but he makes it work. Very well, in fact. Jesper tells himself that he's not jealous - really, he's not! It's not like he and Dell are particularly close, and Dell's entitled to his own friends, and Rollond's really too morally creditable for Jesper to get along well with.

But still. He envies the closeness Dell has with his unlikely friends.

Dell's still talking, "-and I know that's just how he is, but you should've seen it, I mean we always knew he was going to be good but by Lothi some days I feel like I don't need to contribute anything at all, and I feel like it's doing him good being in charge for real since-", he cuts off under Jesper's mischievous stare.

"No, go on. Keep talking." Dell could talk about Rollond forever. It's pretty funny.

"No-one else is this mean to me," Dell grumbles, "They say things like, Yeah Dell, he is pretty cool isn't he. And You're right Dell, that was impressive what he did."

"Yeah Dell, he is so strong and brave and smart, isn't he. Yeah Dell, his hair does shine like ripe wheat. You're right Dell, he is as bright and beautiful as the sun."

Dell throws the cheesecloth at him. Then, he straightens up from his slouch against the wall and fixes Jesper with a gaze that can only mean trouble.

"Oh, yeah? Well, I heard - a little bird told me, heard it around, whispers on the street, if you will, that you've got yourself a blond of your own."

Jesper snatches the wine and takes a good long drink in lieu of an answer. Dell breaks out into delighted giggles.

Damnit.

[countlessimagines]

Your World [ Wolverine x Reader ]

Summary: your Wolverine was your whole world.

A/N: I like writing angsty stuff and this movie provided me with the best possible scenarios <3 hehehe I love wolverine

Warnings: Cussing, mentions of blood

Marvel MASTERLIST Link here

SPOILERS BELOW

-

It wasn’t an ideal love story that brought you back to Logan.

Being a mutant with incredible healing abilities and a broken heart made it so easy for Stryker to capture you. Your Wolverine had been the one to rescue you from the clutches of Stryker and the horrible fate that loomed over your head. All the days of experiments and cold rooms where you’d be injected with who knows what, it all lead to him.

But you always had to remind yourself that Logan had gotten you out, made you a X-Men, but found the brutal truth of how dangerous it was to be loved by you.

You loved deeply and endlessly, like a void waiting for eternity to be loved and to love. Logan was exactly what your heart desired for years.

Someone who could never die, never leave you.

Fighting alongside each other became a beautiful symphony. And God protect anyone who caused you harm, because Logan would only see red and slice them to pieces. It was a miracle none of the X-men had been torn to shreds, but Scott always came close.

The team would always joke about your relationship, saying how could an innocent soul be in love with such a brute like Wolverine.

But Logan knew the only way he could breathe was to be with you, to hold you, to kiss and love you.

He would always find his way to you no matter the circumstance.

Beast was holding you in the infirmary because he wanted to run tests? Logan was there.

Storm and Jean wanted to have a girls night? Logan was sitting outside the room in case anything happened.

Scott was training you in hand to hand combat? Logan was definitely there.

Your world consisted of him and him only.

And maybe that is why it hurt so much when he let your entire team die, because you had not made them your whole world.

You had been away on a mission by yourself when you received the news of their passing. You returned to a bloodied home, no sign of Wolverine to be found.

Life began to blur after what happened. You had to go into hiding, because people blamed you for what happened, too. And there was no one there to stop you from spiraling into a flurry of self hatred.

Hatred for what you had become. A love sick puppy so consumed with Logan only. Maybe if you had been there, maybe if you hadn’t put so much trust in him, maybe if you could have taken the hits for your team.

And the thought that stuck with you the most, if you had been there, screaming for help - would Logan had only saved you and left the rest to die?

Because the love you shared was slowly becoming so obvious to you that it was not pure or natural, but rather so simple it would have made you and Logan public enemy number one.

But you supposed that had already happened, too.

Your mutant abilities were the only thing you had left, so you consumed yourself in underground work. Becoming exactly what the X-men had fought against.

Shedding your uniform, you had to separate yourself from the X-men because people recognized you too easily. It was hard to find any work where people wanted a tainted mutant.

You tried your hardest to not let every moment be consumed by the thought of Logan. He had never reached out to you after the event, despite the grief between you so overwhelmingly strong. He couldn’t face you and love someone who would have stepped through hell and back for him.

He felt as if he didn’t deserve it.

So time continued to pass as the bond between the two of you was severed so deeply that it was suffocating to be apart.

But it wasn’t until Deadpool showed up to your apartment that you were finally addressing your past.

“Leave, now. I’m not hearing any of your bullshit.” You tried to close your door but he stopped it.

“Please, c’mon. I need you! Wolverine needs you!”

You tensed at the mere mention of him. “If he needed me so desperately, it is far too late for him to come back.”

“But you’re his one and only, for fuck’s sake! Every variant I’ve met of him has had a you stalking around like a lap dog. You know how many of you’s have beaten the shit out of me?” He rambled on, and you rolled your eyes.

“I don’t care to understand what you’re saying, so goodbye, Wade!”

Deadpool sighed before kicking the door in and stabbing you through the chest with one of his blades. You stared at him in shock and couldn’t register anything as he flung you over his shoulder into an orange portal.

You landed on a hard ground that pushed the blade out of you. “Wade, you’re a dead man.”

He stepped through the portal and leaned over your body. “Sorry about that, but I can’t die so you’re stuck with not only me, but Wolverine!”

Deadpool giggled and ran off, making sure to rip the blade out of your stomach. You winced but felt your regeneration cells working to stitch you back together.

Slowly sitting up, you spat out blood.

“I tried to tell him not to bring you into this.”

You froze at the voice you fought to forget, willing calm into your fast beating heart.

Sitting up fully only made your legs wobble and your head spin. But you had to look up into the eyes of the man you still loved.

Logan looked different, healthier and happier. It only made you feel sick.

“I’ve been busy.” He said it so casually that it made you want to slap his chest for the lack of greeting. “Wade gave me a second chance. I helped save his world.”

“You haven’t seen me in years and you choose to brag?” You scoffed, removing your shirt to assess the damage Wade had done to your shirt.

Logan sucked in a breath as he took in your battle worn scars. Despite your healing factor, you still kept every scar from every wound you had endured.

He remembered the last time he saw you, you only adorned a few on your chest and stomach.

Now it was littered with them.

“You’ve been busy too, I gather?” Logan said with a hint of sarcasm.

You glared at him. “Why am I here?”

“Wade thought that I needed you.” He admitted it with such ease, like he knew it to be true in his heart.

“And? Do you need me?”

He hesitated before answering. “I’ve always needed you… and I think that’s why I let myself go for so many years. Because I knew that no matter what I did or said to you, you would never forgive me. I would always be the one who let our team die… let you go.”

“Well you’re right, because I never would forgive you. Not after abandoning all of us,” you choked out, the tears beginning to creep into the corners of your eyes. “I loved you fiercely, Logan. All it would have taken was one call during those first few days and I would have been there for you. We could’ve been healing together. But you chose this life of despair for both of us, Logan.”

“I know.” He said, his own eyes watering.

“I despise you.” You said, but your heart was breaking, letting out the true feelings. It was bleeding for him and for him only.

Logan stepped closer and you did not stop him.

“I want nothing to do with you.” You said, your voice cracking.

“I understand.” He said, five feet away from you now.

“I hate you.” You began to weep, the blood in your heart revealing what you wanted truly.

“I don’t blame you.” Logan closed the gap between the two of you, holding you close to his chest. You cried into his shoulder, holding on for dear life. “I’m never leaving you again.”

All you could muster was a small nod, your tears staining his shirt. His own were dripping onto the top of your head.

And in the empty apartment, you and Logan stood, holding onto each other.

Holding your world together.

[froggiewrites]

Hi! I saw that your requests were open and I couldn't wait to jump on the ask train aahhhh >< If it's ok with you, can I request for hurt/comfort with GN!reader x Ace? Prompt is: Ace survived Marineford physically, but mentally and emotionally, he's relapsing due to everything that's happened. Reader tries to comfort him while he has an anxiety attack maybe :((

If this request is too triggering for you, then no worries! Hope you have a good day ^^

~ 🍂 ace's widow ♠️

This was the first request in my inbox, and what a perfect one to start with! Thank you so much for sending it in, I loved writing this. I love writing anything for Ace, and honestly as someone who really struggles with anxiety this was really therapeutic to write.

Do I Deserve It?

Pairing: Ace x Reader

SFW

Summary: Ace has been struggling lately, and you do your best to help. Warnings: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Vague Suicide Ideation, Marineford Spoilers/Mention Word Count: 1.3k

Ace hadn’t been himself today.

You noticed it in the morning, when you woke to an empty, cold bed. Ace typically slept in as late as he could, his snoring being the first sound you hear every morning. After the bloody battle at Marineford, you had been waking up alone more and more. You sometimes find him alone on the deck, staring into the horizon, a distant look in his eyes. When he sees you, he usually comes back to himself, smiling his wonderful, boyish smile, though his eyes remain dim and glassy. He’s somewhere far away, locked inside his own mind, only bringing parts of himself back long enough to kiss you softly, hold your hands, and assure you he’s okay.

This morning he didn’t even notice you were there. You were worried about disturbing him, bringing him back from wherever he had gone too quickly and causing damage you didn’t know how to fix, so you gave him a little time. You found Marco, quietly letting him know that your lover didn’t seem to be in a good mindset, before making Ace a small breakfast and tea.

“I have something for you, my love.” You keep your voice quiet and soft, afraid too loud or sharp a tone will send him running like a frightened animal. His head whips around at the sound of you, his shoulders tensing even more, but he doesn’t leave. That’s something. You set the plate next to him, and gesture for him to take the steaming mug directly. He lifts his hands, ready to receive, but they’re shaking so badly they can’t even wrap around the ceramic properly.

“Ace?”

He’s looking at you, blinking just slightly too rapidly, brow beaded with sweat. He tucks his hands under his thighs, trying to hide what you’d already seen. “Thanks. You can uh–you can set it down there.” His voice is ragged, barely able to get past his quick and shallow breaths.

“My love, are you alright?” You don’t know why you ask the question when you both clearly already know the answer. You set the mug down carefully before gently reaching to untuck his hands from under his legs. You go slowly, giving him ample chance to pull away, but he allows you to take his hands in yours. They’re clammy and unsteady, fingers twitching like he’s readying himself for a fight. “What’s wrong?”

He takes in a shaky breath, trying to steady himself, then another, then another after that. Before you realize it, he’s hyperventilating, and he throws himself into you, burying his face into your neck. You press one of your hands to his chest in surprise, and you can feel his heartbeat racing beneath your fingertips. His arms tighten around you, his nose burying itself deep in your neck, and you feel a wetness against your skin.

Instead of trying to speak, you start gently running your fingers through his hair, smoothing any tangles you find. He holds you tightly and shakes for several minutes, gasping for air. You pretend you don’t hear the choked breathing against you, and pretend you don’t hear how much he struggles to speak when he finally begins to mumble against your neck. “I’m horrible.”

“What?”

“I’m horrible. Awful. I–I should have–”

“Portgas D Ace, don’t you dare say what I think you’re about to say.” You want to pull him out of your neck and force him to look you in the eyes, make him know that what he was about to wish for was the only horrible thing here, but you worry if you pull him back you’ll untether him further and he’ll completely lose himself to the fears that have clearly overtaken him. You settle for kissing the side of his head the best you can without disturbing him, and taking on a gentler but still firm tone of voice. “I’m so glad you’re still here. I can’t imagine a world without you.”

“I am too. That’s the–” He lets out an angry huff at how he’s struggling to articulate, and you see small flames lick up his back. You use one hand to slide gently down his spine, extinguishing them. “So many people died. So many. And Pops almost–” His voice cracks, and he only just barely manages to hold back the new tears forming on his lashes. “For me. Some worthless, useless kid with tainted blood. And I–I’m happy about it. How sick is that? I’m happy I’m alive, even after all of that. Happy they wanted to do that for me. I’m the worst man alive. I deserved it.”

“Ace–” You don’t quite know where to start, so you pick a thread you know you can follow. “First off, it’s only right for a father to defend his son. Pops doesn’t regret a thing, and he wouldn’t even if things had gone worse. He’d do it for you. You’re his son.” 

His breath hitches again, and he lets out another quiet mumble. “I was so happy to see him. I kept telling myself it was okay, that it was better this way, but I was so happy to see him and know that I might live. Even if I didn’t deserve it. Even if things were worse with me here. I wanted to be allowed to live.”

“You are allowed to live. And every person there wanted you to. Still wants you to. You have no idea the good you’ve done, how many people you’ve helped. You’re a shining light, Ace, and none of us want you to be snuffed out.” Your hands rub soothing circles into his back, tracing lightly over the dimple at the bottom of his spine. His breathing slows slightly as his breaths get a little steadier. He’s still shaking in your arms, but less than earlier.

“I want to live. I want to keep going. But some part of me is still there, with the blade against my neck, and he’s begging for it to be over. It’s hard to ignore him.”

“I know it can be hard to hear anything over the voice in your head. But I promise you you have people here for you. I’m right here whenever you need me. Marco’s here. Pops is here. We all will help you in whatever way we can, whenever you need us. We love you, Ace, and we’re so happy you’re still with us. I would do all of it again if it meant keeping you safe, and I promise you everyone else feels the same. Even those of us who didn’t make it. We love you. We need you. We want you to live.”

You feel hot, wet tears against your neck again as he quietly cries into you. “I want to, too. I really want to.”

“So you will.”

“I will.”

You hold him for as long as he needs, long after his breakfast has gone cold and the sun has risen. The tension leaves him slowly but surely, and after a while you hear a soft snoring. You adjust him to a more comfortable position, leaning your back against the railing of the ship. You let him sleep as long as he needs, until the sun is high in the sky. Many members of the crew pass you, give soft looks of concern, but no one disturbs him.

Your talk doesn’t solve his problems, of course. They’re much bigger than a single conversation can solve. But instead of waking up to an empty bed, you start waking up to warm arms around you and a head buried between your shoulder blades or in your chest, listening to your heartbeat. You still find him on the deck, staring into the horizon, but instead of giving you a fragile smile when you find him he simply takes you into his arms, finding comfort in your presence. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and Ace certainly won’t be rebuilt in one. But there is always a first day, then the one after that, and another, until eventually you can’t remember what it felt like before the first bricks were laid. He can be happy, in time. You can’t wait to see it.

[gyllenhaalstories]

ALIBI — RUSTY SABICH

summary: rusty seeks comfort in someone from his past to hide from both the present and the future.

warnings: mentions of cheating & the murder, mostly angst, smut (pussy eating, penetration, marking & hickeys, accidental creampie, some elements of noncon). 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 4075

gif credits: me @/gyllenhaalstories / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: i was going off the vibes from the trailers but there are spoilers from the first two episodes. this was supposed to be all smut but then i didn't feel like writing smut so it was all angst but then i remembered i'm bad at writing angst so now it's... a mess. sorry? 👓 thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

The doorbell rang. The noise was so loud that it startled you.

You had been on the edge all day, ever since you received a mysterious letter in your mailbox. The enveloppe was bare, the paper did not look much better. It could have been a bad prank for all you knew, it was not addressed to anyone specifically nor did it have the information required to return it. If it had not been of the familiar penmanship that wrote the words I'll be here at midnight, you would have believed that the letter was completely anonymous.

Rusty stood on the other side of the door, his body completely frozen while his mind and his heart raced faster than ever before. It was a bad idea, one of the worst ideas. He tried to make sure that nobody had followed him, but how could he know? How could he completely be sure there was not a car parked in the darkness of the night?

You ripped the metaphorical bandaid off. "What are you doing here?" You gripped on the door knob tightly, fighting the urge to slam the door back in his face.

He looked down at his feet. "You got my letter."

You were not having any of his misplaced timidity. He reached out, he needed to face the consequences. He needed to face you. So, you stepped out of the way and let him make a decision. Whether he walked away before it was too late, or whether he...

Rusty's shoulder bumped against yours while he made his way into your home. Memories flooded his mind. Memories of the two of you talking, laughing, kissing and...

"What are you doing here?" You repeated, this time with more annoyance in your voice.

He stopped reminiscing the past you shared. "I had nowhere else to go. I have no one else, but..."

"You don't have me either. You made that very clear when you disappeared. It's been so long, I started to believe you forgot I even existed. When was the last time we talked?"

When Carolyn started working. "It's been a long time, I know."

"You know everything, don't you?" You stated and closed the door. Rusty stood there, almost as clueless as you about his presence. You eyed him from head to toes and scoffed.

He flinched, expecting you to go on with another lecture about how he was such a horrible man. You did not, you knew he would like that too much.

You walked towards the living room and crashed on couch, as far as you could be from him. The distance made you feel safer. Only this safety was ephemeral and fragile.

"I, huh... I just," he stuttered and clenched his jaw while trying to compose himself. He pushed his glasses up on his nose. "I needed you."

You scoffed again at the use of past tense. Before you could talk back, he continued.

"I need you."

That confession weighted heavy in the air for several long, agonizing minutes. He came to you. He would have to work hard to get whatever he wanted from you.

Rusty fidgeted with his ring finger. Muscle memory.

You crossed your arms against your chest. You had showed this man more patience than he deserved. "Do you want a hug? Do you want me to tell you everything's gonna be okay?

He glanced in your direction, just long enough for you to notice the glimmer of hope in his eyes.

"I'm not the lawyer who's gonna defend your fake alibi, I'm not the detective who's gonna scrap pieces of evidence for you. I'm not the one who's going to get you out of trouble." You bombarded him with all of these options that he had once considered, crossing them off his list one after the other. "I'm not what you need."

"Yes, you are!" He raised his voice and you lifted a brow at his outburst. He hated being cornered, he hated being on the receiving hand of a tactic he had used one too many times in court. "I need you!" He shouted, he surprised himself.

You blinked and suddenly he was in front of you. He stood, tall but not strong. The louder he yelled, the weaker he felt.

"I need you to help me." You locked eyes with him, daring him to go on. "I need you to help me forget." He did not need to speak her name for you to figure out he was talking about Carolyn.

You laughed at him, as if you were hit with a sudden case of hysteria.

Your reaction made him walk away with his tail between his legs. He sat on the opposite side of the couch.

"You think you're so brave. Huh?" You smiled at him, in complete disbelief. "You were talking shit about how you wanted to leave your wife for me. The worst part is... I believed you." He seemed surprised once again. "Then you left me for another woman who died because of you. And now..." Your smile faded and your arms fell to your sides. "You're crawling back to me because you feel lonely?"

This was a mistake. He thought, he hoped, you would be different. He had enough of people berating him. He sprung to his feet and paced around your living room, planning his next move... His next words.

You chewed on the inside of your cheek while he behaved like an animal in cage. "Rusty..." You sighed, slowly giving in without your own consent. You opened the door of the cage.

"I know you feel lonely too." Rusty clenched his jaw. He stood firm in his word. Suddenly he remembered a conversation he had, not too long ago, about taking responsibility. "And I know I'm asking for a lot." His upper lip curled, his body reacting strangely to this rare case of acknowledgement and awareness. Perhaps it could have been... Guilt.

It was your turn to be surprised. This was uncommon, unnatural. You could not quite decipher if he was genuine or not. The longer you stared at him, studying and scrutinizing him, the harder it became to figure out what was going on inside his head. However, you noticed a shift.

Rusty knew he was getting to you. You no longer had the entire control over this conversation. He reentered your house and your life. While you told him you did not want him back, your body was saying something completely different. You expected him to visit, yet you dressed up so lightly in a shirt that hugged your curves and pants he could easily rip open. You never missed an occasion to drink him in, to appreciate the countless hours he spent at the pool to swim through his thoughts. The tough version of you that opened the door with an anger-filled soul softened up faster than he had imagined.

You eyed him up and down again. "This isn't going to end well." You spoke mostly to yourself. He heard you, but did not acknowledge the bad omen.

Rusty knelt before you. Not once did he break eye contact while he crawled, bringing your words into reality. He leaned back when he reached your legs and waited. He waited for you to tell him no, knowing it would only make him crave it more. Rusty rarely took no for an answer anyway.

You reached your hand to stroke his hair. You waited, too. You waited for him to realize he was taking the wrong decision. You waited to gather enough courage, although you were not too sure what to used that courage for.

He leaned into your hand that slid down to his cheek. You reminded him that the chase of thrills and butterflies could hardly compete with someone who had the magical power of calming him down, of making the whole world disappear.

You leaned forward and reached for his glasses that you gently removed. You took a moment to admire the sight of him: the muscles of his thighs almost bursting through his jeans, his chest heaving as if his hoodie made him so hot that he was melting, his eyes begging for your permission.

He watched you set his glasses away on the couch, safe and sound. He turned his head back to you while you lifted yourself off the couch to take off your sleeping pants. Rusty helped you pull them off, he threw them as far away as he could. He decided for you that there was no turning back. He then placed his hands on your knees, ready to part your legs open.

"I'm gonna regret this." You would, but Rusty would not. You locked eyes with him again and drowned into his darkened gaze. "You better make sure it's worth it."

Rusty faced a dilemma: he was unsure whether he wanted to take his time and savour the moment or dive into it head first. The throb of his cock, confined under his clothes, decided for him.

Your body showed no resistance to his touch, your legs opened easily with the light pressure he applied. His tongue licked a long stripe on your inner thigh while he made his way to your core.

You adjusted your position, sitting more lazily on the couch while he pulled you closer to the edge of the seat. He peppered kisses on your pussy before he used his thumbs to spread it open for him. At the first taste, he was addicted. More so, he was reminded of the addiction that had him sneaking out day and night just to eat you out.

Your back arched, pressing yourself against his mouth when he sucked on your clit. You fought back your moans, but, once again, your body betrayed you.

"Missed you so much," Rusty spoke against your skin. He spat on your pussy and caught the drops that dripped down with his tongue. He made a mess, not that he had to try very hard for it. You were already wet for him, he liked to think it was just a reflex you had failed to break since the day he left. "I missed you so fucking much."

You placed a hand on his head, pulling on his short hair. You refused to believe his words, but they sounded so nice. Almost honest.

Rusty began to lap at your folds, making his nose bump against your clit. He swallowed the juices that leaked from your entrance, but he was still left craving more.

You gasped loudly when his tongue teased your hole. You pressed his face against you, as if he could get even closer than he already was.

Rusty palmed at his rock hard cock, moaning into your pussy as he did that. He touched himself over his clothes while he finally focused on your aching clit, flicking his tongue on it to make you squirm. He tried to fight against the movements of your hips, making sure his mouth never left you.

Your legs started to close around Rusty's face, which did not bother him in the slightest. You struggled to keep your eyes open, to watch him while he brought you closer to the edge. He just looked so beautiful.

The vein on his temple was bulging, almost pulsating to match his heart beat. He let go of his crotch and helped you to put your thighs on his broad shoulders, encourage you to let go, to give in.

You were not ready to satisfy him just yet. You wanted this moment to last, you wanted it to be worth the guilt and regret you would experience the moment he would walk out the door.

That only made him hungrier. He devoured you like it was the last time, he shared the mutual feeling that it could very well be. He pulled away from you just long enough to catch his breath one last time. He was determined to get what he wanted from you.

In a matter of seconds, your vision got blurry and your toes started to curl.

Rusty's moans only made the sensations greater while his tongue worked you over and had your entire body shaking for him.

You did not need to speak, to tell him to keep going, he knew what to do. He knew how to make you feel better than anyone else ever could. That remained one of his biggest problems, he was a heartless cheater but he was just so fucking good at it.

He slowed down until your thighs relaxed around him and he helped to set them down, still wide open for him to admire the mess he made between your thighs. You were dripping of your own wetness and of his spit. He could have kept going all night, but he had a more urgent need to take care of. He scrambled back on his feet and, without a word, he took off the rest of his clothes.

You did the same, not without admiring his body and especially the throbbing and leaking cock that he stroked.

He admired you too: the way your clit throbbed for him, how your forehead was covered with a layer of sweat despite just sitting there and doing nothing besides screaming while you were cumming.

He surprised you with a rough kiss, all tongue and teeth. You did not want to reciprocate, you wanted to pull away and to protect yourself from falling harder for this man. It was simply pointless. You kissed him back with the same passion that left you both gasping for air.

Rusty helped you to change positions so that you turned around and you were kneeling on the couch and you leaned on the back of the furniture. He leaned forward to kiss your shoulder and all the way down your back. He wanted to print the memory of you in his mind.

Neither of you felt brave enough to speak. You let your bodies do the talking with moans and grunts that blended into a melody while Rusty pressed the tip of his cock to your entrance. His tongue failed to prepare you for the delicious stretch of his cock.

He squeezed your ass cheeks open, trying to catch a glimpse of your pussy gripping on him. That was the prettiest thing he had ever seen. He helped you arch your back, taking in the perfect position for him to use your pussy to get off. You felt so fucking good, so tight and wet around him. How could he have waited so long to feel you again? How did he manage to wait all this time?

You bit on your lip so hard that it tasted faintly of blood when he bottomed out. He stopped moving for a few moments, letting you adjust to him.

He pressed his toned chest against your back, cooing at you. When he felt your walls relax around his length, he started moving. The small but deep thrusts made tears pool into your eyes.

You held on the back of the couch for dear life when he fucked you harder, when he let you feel every inch of him nice and deep.

Rusty grunted louder and louder. The noises echoed in your apartment, filling the silence alongside the sound of your skin slapping against his. He was getting closer than he wanted to to admit it, so he stalled again.

You felt his hands on your skin, gliding down your arms. He held your hands in his, making the cushion of the couch cave in under the pressure. You looked down at his left hand, but your eyes closed blissfully before you could notice whether he was wearing his wedding ring or not. Your skin was so hot too, you could not even feel it the metal.

You could not feel anything else than Rusty's cock that was balls deep inside of you or his lips that sucked a few marks on your shoulder.

He kissed his way to your neck, where he nibbled and licked. He was buying time and you could feel it. You could hear it too, with the whimpers that came out of his mouth. He murmured at your ear while he marked you. "I’m gonna… I’m gonna cum."

"Pull out, just, fuck," your voice sounded hoarse from the moans. "Just pull out!"

Rusty cursed under his breath, his thrusts felt more like twitches than anything. His left hand moved down to squeeze on your hip, a rough and bruising grip. "I can’t," his body pressed down on yours. You could barely stay up on your knees. "You feel too fucking good on me."

"No! No, no…" You wanted to get him to move, or even to get off him. Anything really, but your pussy clenched on him with vice-like grip. It was already too late.

Rusty held your hip and your hand tight, giving you no room to escape. He grunted at your ear while he emptied himself in you. Multiple ropes of cum coated your walls and made both yours and his eyes roll to the back of your heads. It felt so good, so wrong yet so right. He should not have done it, he should have pulled out and avoid another situation. He never learned his lessons. This was forbidden. He loved it even more.

"Rusty! That was so fucking stupid." You shouted, there was more shock than anger in your voice. Your poor attempts at squirming out of his embrace failed. Your pussy milked him to his last drop.

The room went painfully silent. No moans, no skin slapping, no couch squeaking. Nothing. There was nothing but erratic breaths and the gears turning silently in your minds. What did he do? He did what he needed to do. He did what he knew you wanted him to do. Even if you told him otherwise, even if you tried to convince yourself of the opposite. "I'm sorry."

It was crystal clear that his apology was empty. As if the lack of conviction in his voice was not enough to prove it, the slow thrusts of his hips sealed the deal.

Languid strokes that made him appreciate the warmth he had craved for so long. "I know, this was wrong." He pressed his clean shaven cheek against yours. Slowly, he picked up the pace until he properly fucked you against the couch. "I'm so fucking sorry." He punctuated each word with a thrust that made you moan louder and louder. He was not going to stop anytime soon. He fucked his cum so deep inside of you until he was ready for a second load.

Only Rusty could fuck you this good. He made sure you learned that lesson, rewarding you with orgasms the more you surrendered to the pleasure he shamelessly gave you.

*~*~*

You felt Rusty's arm slide away from your body, goosebumps spreading on your skin from the sudden lack of warmth. You tried to stay immobile, although your eyes fluttered from struggling to stay closed. You knew he would leave. He always did.

He knew he would leave. He could not stay. He could not stay and drag you down with him once more. Rusty had hurt enough people for the time being, he needed to learn to be careful. To calculate the risks. The risks were too high when they involved you.

A part of you had hoped it would be different this time. Maybe he would stay for breakfast. Maybe he would offer to shower together and go at it again. Maybe he would make another promise he would inevitably break.

Rusty surprised you with a kiss to your cheek, one that lingered and communicated more than words could convey in the moment. He stood up on his tired legs and he stepped over your body to search for his clothes.

You opened your eyes a bit, squinting to catch a glimpse of his naked body roaming around your place. He looked so beautiful, so irresistible. His large back, his muscular legs, his toned ass that he quickly covered with his boxers. You could admire him for days on end. He would never grant you so much time in his presence.

He turned around, guilt and regret stabbed him in the stomach. Unfamiliar feelings. You looked so beautiful, so tempting. The delicate features of your face, the curves of your body, your steady breathing that he'd love to fall asleep to again. He wished he could stay with you and forget about the rest of the world.

You felt his eyes on you. You felt him stare and linger on the marks he left on your body, on the other places he'd love to bruise for his own pleasure.

Before he got riled up and, most importantly, before he failed once more to think with his brain, he finished dressing up in a hurry. If he made it back home before sunrise, no one would know about his escapade.

"Wait." Your mouth spoke despite your mind yelling at you to stay quiet and to pretend to sleep a little longer.

Rusty froze in place. He refused to turn around and look at you. Unless you asked him to.

You sat up, wrapping the blanket around your body that he had seen one too many times; your body that he could not even see in the moment. You used the blanket as a shield. An armour to brace for the upcoming impact. "Is she," you cut yourself off. "Was she special?"

You watched his torso rise and fall from the several deep breaths he took before answering. "Very." He did not need one more interrogation, one more trial.

You nodded slowly. "Am I special?"

You watched him experience a myriad of emotions, just by the change in his breathing and how his body tensed up while he searched for an honest answer. This question was a trap.

"Very." He repeated in a whisper. "The most special."

You snickered. His answer felt like just as much of a trap as the question you asked. If you had been the most special to him, why did he pursue Carolyn? Why did he have this grand affair with her and not with you? Why did he risk everything for her and not for you?

As if he could hear the questions running through your mind, he spoke again. "You're the only person I've tried my hardest to protect." He referred to his children that he hurt and sacrificed, to his wife that he lied to and cheated on... To his mistress who died because of his insatiable lust.

It was only then that you finally accepted to face the truth: nobody knew who you were, in relation to Rozat Sabich. He kept you in the shadows, he locked you in a cage. He protected you in this bubble of stolen kisses and broken promises.

If nobody knew that you two shared a long and complex history, he would never have to involve you in this situation more than he already did the night before. He would not need yet another alibi to cover up the messy trail he left behind.

You held your head in your hands. You hated to see him leave, each time felt like it got closer to being the last time he would walk out of your life for good.

Rusty put on his hoodie and fixed his glasses. He was now facing you, but it was his turn to need an armour so he maintained the distance between the two of you. He stared at you, time felt like it had stopped. His lips parted open to speak, but no sound came out of his mouth.

However, you turned to look at him just in time to catch him mouth the dangerous words I love you. You smiled sadly at him with a tear falling down the same cheek he kissed. It was your way to say I love you too.

And just like that, Rusty opened the door and left without another glance in your direction. The wall between the two of you built itself back up in an instant. That way, he protected you from the world. Most importantly, he protected you from himself. All the history between the two of you would remain a secret.

You were his best kept secret.

[whumpsday]

Kane & Jim AU: Mermay Special

Chronological masterlist / Writing order masterlist

content: mer/vampire whumper, mer/vampire whumpee, whumper-turned-whumpee, dehydration, claustrophobia, starvation, torture, brief death wish, recovery, caretaking

have something special for mermay :) inspired by this fanart my friend lostie drew 2 years ago!!

-

It hadn’t rained in a week, Jim’s freshwater had run out the day before, and he was going to die.

He knew he was going to die. Kane would come back to feed, and his body wouldn’t be able to hold up anymore, and he would die. Either with Kane’s jaws clamped around him, or later, alone in the damp cold sand.

He wasn’t thirsty enough to be desperate yet, not desperate enough to drink the abundant saltwater taunting him from his prison’s little beach. He knew it would only make him die faster. It was poison.

It hardly mattered at this point. Months with no rescue likely meant no rescue at all, and this was hardly a life. Still, something cried out in him, wanting to live.

Jim scrambled against the rock as he saw that telltale fin start to poke out of the water, more and more until the vampire revealed himself in full, the head and torso of a man and the tail-end of a shark. Not that there was anywhere for Jim to use his worthless legs to run to.

“Food.” Kane slung half a seal onto the surface, raw yet unbloodied.

Jim cautiously crept forward. “I need water.”

Kane raised an eyebrow at him, then splashed him, leaving him soaked.

“Fresh water,” he pressed, pointing up to the clear sky. “Rainwater. I need it or I’ll die. Please, just take me back to the beach, any beach where there’s humans. I won’t be any use to you dead. You’re not some animal, you know this isn’t right, please!”

“Human mine,” Kane dismissed firmly.

Jim sobbed drily. “I can’t. I can’t. You’re going to kill me.”

“Eat.” Kane shoved the meat toward him, making him flinch back. “Then I eat.”

Jim looked to the sky, Kane’s hungry eyes never leaving him as he devoured the vampire’s leftovers. If it didn’t rain tomorrow, he wouldn’t make it another day.

“Human.” Kane gestured him forward as soon as he finished.

“No, no, I don’t want to!” Jim backed up to the rock again, even knowing it was useless.

Kane huffed, climbing up onto the sand. “Food,” he called him now, a warning tone to his voice, piercing red eyes growing angry.

“Stop,” Jim insisted, squeezing his eyes shut. “No!”

A clawed hand grabbed his leg, any attempt to kick him away futile. He couldn’t match a vampire’s strength on his best day, and this was not his best day.

He cried out as sharp teeth dug into flesh once again, feeling much like the seal in his stomach.

-

Kane whined softly, squirming against the glass.

The fishers had put him in a smaller tank again. He couldn’t be sure–though he learned more of their language every awful day, there were still gaps–but he was near-certain it was a game to them, at this point, how small of a space they could force him to live in. He didn’t need to know their language to see their smirks.

He hadn’t even meant to break the last one. He had been trying so hard this time, and he’d been asleep when it happened. Even so, the fishers left him gasping on the floor in a pile of broken glass for hours. Even the tiny tank was better than none at all. How far he’d fallen, that he could consider this lucky.

Kane wished he could go back to complaining about not having room to swim. He would do anything to go back to the first tank. This one hardly afforded him room to move, to breathe. No matter how he tried to position himself, he always ended up touching the walls, his tail bunched up uncomfortably.

The water was too salty, burning his gills with every breath. He didn’t dare complain about that again. Last time, they left him in that horrible freshwater humans love so much until he screamed and bled to the point where any other fish would die.

But he was a vampire, and there was no driftwood here.

Every time a fisher walked past, Kane tensed. Some carried cruel metal tools, meant for fish already dead, though he’d already known their sting far more than he’d like. Some carried cruel metal tools and looked at him, making him wish he had anywhere to hide.

“Comfy?” a fisher mocked, tapping the glass with the end of his fishing stick, the unavoidable vibrations reverberating wherever he touched it.

Kane shook his head, hoping the answer was acceptable.

“Good. �̴̢̛̙̃̎̀̏͌�̶͙̪̉̃̐͋̈̈́̉͝�̵̛̹̪̳̾́̏̂̏̊͊�̴̤̬͖͖̬̹̣̏�̴̧̹͓͒̋͝�̸͎̝̂̅͋�̴̧͚͍̼̠͌�̵̤̜̻̦̬̄͒̏̃ little display case, leech. �̸͖̞̩̳̒̿͐̚͝ͅ�̴̢̫̺̟̺̬̯͔̋̄�̶̧̺̯͚��͎͉̆͆̀̉̍�̵͚͈͛̌̑̚�̷̰͝͝�̴̢̡̯̗̖̥̈́̑̄̅̃̀̎̕ feed you this week.”

He perked up at the mention of food, whining louder this time.

The fisher laughed, flicking one of those foul little ash-and-paper cylinders into his tank. “Eat it.”

It would make him sick, but far worse would come of disobeying orders. Maybe the fisher would allow him some food if he obeyed. Kane wriggled until he could position himself enough to reach the bottom of the tank, scooped it up, and swallowed it down.

Another fisher joined him, saying something he couldn’t understand and nodding at his tank before approaching.

Nothing good ever happened when he was taken from his tank.

“No, no, no!” he wailed as his head breached the surface, his salt-lined gills burning all the more against unforgiving air.

-

Jim didn’t go to the beach anymore.

After months stranded and years after living in fear, he never thought he’d get even ten miles near a coastline. Not even twenty. Yet here he was, getting within two, just to see the damn vampire. Just to confirm it’s him.

The scars on his arms and legs floated the vague line between hurt and not, leaving him unsure if it was in his head.

The smell of distant saltwater made him want to vomit.

Jim greeted the fishers in a daze, letting them lead him to the vampire that might be his.

And there he was.

Kane looked worse for wear. He was littered with more scars than Jim was, trapped in a tank barely wider than his body, and even his body looked near-emaciated. His wide eyes locked onto Jim with sudden, harsh terror, and he squirmed as if to try to get away.

“Why’s he… in there?” he asked dumbly.

“Gotta keep a vampire reeeal secure, you of all people know you can’t trust the fuckers. Give ‘em an inch and they’ll take a mile. Can’t move around, don’t have the energy to fight, knows it’s got hurt coming if it tries, that’s the safe way to keep ‘em,” the fisher explained.

Jim couldn’t look him in the eyes after that, so he looked at the tank instead.

“Kane?”

Kane whimpered, pressed against the back of the tank, though that only left him what looked like a couple inches away from the front of it. Jim felt claustrophobic just looking at it.

“So?” the fisher prompted.

“This is him.” Jim took a step forward, hesitantly pressing a hand to the glass. He was really here, powerless to hurt him again.

But Kane was hurt, and terrified, and trapped somewhere small and uncomfortable. There was no way he could leave him here.

“Do you think… I could take him?”

-

Every day, humans came to the aquarium in droves. As an unending mercy, Kane’s tank here was large, with ample places to hide. He never came out while the humans were visiting.

No one hurt him at the aquarium. He always had enough to eat at the aquarium. The workers always smiled at him when he surfaced for his meals. Not the malicious smiles of the fishers, but real ones, like they were friends. They talked to him like he was a person, and he was getting better at talking back, and they didn’t even get mad at him when he wouldn’t come out for the guests. Bellamy slipped him an extra fish and told him he deserved it for being a trooper. He didn’t know what a trooper was, but it sounded good when he said it.

Maybe he would start showing himself, one day, just to make them happy. Maybe if it ever stopped being scary.

As it stood, there was only one guest Kane would leave his hidey-hole for. Thankfully, they allowed him to come just after closing, away from the crowds.

“Hey,” Jim greeted. “Just came to, uh, check up on you. Make sure you’re still doing alright.”

Kane couldn’t speak underwater, and Jim was nowhere close to the top of the roomy tank, so he nodded. He looked at his hand, trying to remember the sign for a second, before making a ‘thumbs-up’.

“You’re okay? You’re happy? No one’s hurting you? They’re feeding you good? Helping you with medical stuff?” Jim asked.

Kane nodded again, smiling this time. He tried not to show his teeth.

Jim sat by the tank. “That’s good. I’m happy for you, man. You know how long ‘til the doc clears you to go home?”

It wouldn’t be long, now. He was gaining the weight back, his injuries had healed, and the exercises he’d been given were helping him learn to swim normally again. Soon, he would be able to survive in the ocean, just like before any of this nightmare had ever happened.

Bellamy said they could do a program together, if he wanted, where guests would come to learn about vampires and ask him questions. He said Kane didn’t have to if he didn’t want to, but winked and promised him some of his blood if he gave it a try.

No fisher could catch him again if he stayed at the aquarium. People would protect him at the aquarium.

Kane shrugged, not sure he would ever leave.

-

sorry all i can write are AUs lol <3 they're warming me up for the main series i prommy

taglist in reblogs!

[strniohoeee]

Could you write a Matt x fem y/n where she gets overwhelmed with life (or something like that) and she tries to hide it from Matt. She fails miserably and in telling him what’s wrong she has a panic attack, so he has to guide her through it. Like kind of angsty in the beginning but very fluffy in the end? If that’s okay with you?

Trapped

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: Y/N is struggling to balance her stressful life without realizing it. Unable to figure out what’s wrong some questions from Matt make her spiral and panic takes place🗣️

Warnings⚠️: None it’s just short 😭

Song for the imagine: Silver Soul- Beach House

Trap

(Past tense) Trapped

Verb

Prevent (someone) from escaping from a place

Lately my mind has been clouded by this overwhelming feeling of stress. I’m not usually a stressed person, but when I do find myself getting overwhelmed I handle it well.

But right now in this moment I wasn’t sure what was wrong and why I couldn’t control these feelings. I suppose it’s true that stress is a silent killer.

I couldn’t really pinpoint why my mind was racing and I felt this impending doom waiting for me. Like I was on the brink of snapping?

To make matters worse I’ve been distancing myself from Matt and his brothers because I didn’t want to seem like a buzz kill. Constantly plagued by the “what’s wrong” was making me annoyed. Because I simply couldn’t say what was wrong because I didn’t even know.

Matt had come over to my apartment to spend the night with me. I felt horrible because he was so excited and I just wanted peace and quiet, and to go to sleep.

I was being such a bitch, and I tried not to be but it was becoming very hard. My mind was constantly racing and for what? I had no idea….

“Baby are you okay?” Matt asked me, snapping me out of my trance

“Huh what?” I said looking at him

“Well I’ve been talking to you and you haven’t said a thing” he said furrowing his brows at me

“I’m- I’m sorry” I said shaking my head

“Are you sure you’re okay? You seem off” he replied rubbing my arm

“Yes Matt I’m fine” I said sternly kind of brushing his arm off of me

“Oh uhh I’m sorry” he said snatching his hand back

“Listen I’m sorry I’m just not feeling the best today” I said rubbing my forehead

“Would you like to talk about it?” He asked repositioning himself on the couch

“What is there to talk about when I don’t even know what’s going on in my brain” I said frustrated

“I’m not trying to make you upset so we don’t have to talk about” he said looking at me

“I’m sorry, okay, it’s not you I promise. I’m just stressed” I said back to him

“Well baby what are you stressed about?” He asked reading my face for an answer

“Matt I don’t know okay” I said feeling my heart beat quicken

“It’s okay” he said rubbing my knee which caused my anxiety to spike even more

His over analyzing of the situation made my brain go haywire. Anxious thoughts infiltrating my mind.

“I’m just stressed about a lot…..my content, and then my part time job and then also juggling school, and then my mom called me the other day to say that my dog is probably dying, and I have tons of bills and so much stuff to do and such little time” I said my chest rising and falling

“It’s okay to feel that way. You’re young and you’re doing a lot and living on your own isn’t easy” he said tucking my hair behind my ear

“And the warranty is up for my car so I have to call and purchase it again, and my manager has been trying to get a meeting in with me, and I have to fly back home in two weeks”

“and….and…..why does my chest feel like it’s tightening?” I suddenly blurted out the last part

“Y/N, you have to calm down okay. You’re freaking yourself out just breathe” Matt said sitting up

“I can’t breathe and my hearing is going out, my vision seems blurry? Am I going to pass out?? Why can’t I breathe Matt?” I said breathing quickly and erratically

“Listen to me, okay listen to my voice. You’re having a panic attack. You need to focus on your breathing and calm down” he said grabbing my hands and sitting in front of me

“I can’t” I said staring blankly as tears ran down my face

“Yes you can baby” he said

“Why am I crying?” I asked trying to breathe

“You’re having a breakdown, you’re going to be okay just do as I say” he replied back

“Remember when I took you to the cape and we went to that river?” He asked me

“Yes” I said shakily

“Okay now breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth” he said wiping my tears

“Well remember how beautiful it looked, and how vibrant the tree were….we sat down on a rock and you put your feet in the water” he said to me

“Yes I remember” I replied blinking my tears away

“And you tried to count the rocks in the water but you couldn’t” he said

“Yeah there were too many I kept messing up” I said laughing a bit

“And then you just focused on the water running through your feet, and you said that-“ I cut him off

“I said that it felt like silk running along my skin” I replied smiling at him

“Exactly, and you said the wind blowing through your hair made you feel like a main character in a movie” he replied laughing

“Yes I remember” I said laughing

“And do you remember who was there with you?” He asked and to this I furrowed my eyebrows

“Of course Matt, it was you” I said looking at him

“Exactly, I will be with you no matter what. I will always be by your side” he said kissing my knuckles

I had calmed down and my mind had cleared. Finally coming to my senses at what just happened. My body and mind feeling exhausted

“Thank you Matt” I said smiling at him

“Always my love. I’ll always be here for you. You should never let yourself get this way. If you ever feel any amount of stress just tell me I can help you” he said rubbing my cheek with his thumb

“I’m sorry I just don’t want to seem like a burden” I replied looking down

“You’re never a burden. Because when I’m stressed you’re always there to help me and I want you to do the same” he told me

“Okay Matt I will. I promise” I said leaning into his chest after he sat back on the couch

“Listen, you're doing well enough to quit your part time job, and if you ever need any money for anything just let me know okay. I want to help you! I’ll fly with you back home, and I'll go to the dealership to get the warranty package for your car again. Let’s look at your calendar together and schedule the meeting with your manager. And I can help be your study buddy for your courses” he replied rubbing my shoulders

“Thank you Matt I really appreciate it” I said melting into his touch

“This is what I’m here for! To be there for you always” he replied kissing my shoulder

“I love you” I said

“I love you too” he replied back

I looked over my shoulder and he placed a kiss on my lips. A kiss that let me know how loved I was….

The End

Hiiiii I hope you enjoyed this one! I have two stories similar to this on my page, so I tried my best to make it different😭😭 I love yall and I hope you enjoyed this one🥹🖤🖤

-J💅🏽

[philistiniphagottini]

Hi 👋🏻😅 I would like to make a request for the ‘Domestic Bliss’ event!

I was wondering if you would be interested in writing a Madara Uchiha x fem!reader where he’s taking care of a sick reader? :)

Good luck with the event!! 💙✨🎉

Hi! Thanks for dropping by. I got so excited when you popped up. Thank you for participating, I had such a big goofy grin on my face while writing this. Hope you enjoy~

cw. fluff, gender neutral reader

Domestic Bliss

"What do you think you are doing?"

Your shoulders tensed and jumped up to your ears when you heard a stern voice behind you. You immediately stopped what you were doing, the broom in your trembling hands clattering to the floor and piercing through the silence. You slowly spun on your heel, every muscle in your body sore and aching as your meek gaze fell to your Uchiha lover. Madara stood in the doorway to the living area, arms crossed over his broad chest and a scowl settled over his features. The furrow in his brow only pinched deeper when he gave you a look, eyes narrowed as he expectantly waited for you to answer his question. Your eyes flickered around the room before landing back on him, blocking the exit and the only chance of your escape.

You breathed deeply as you awkwardly cleared your throat, the lump getting stuck as you desperately fought against the urge to start coughing to get rid of the irritating itch. You swallowed, your throat feeling dry and parched as your tongue nervously flittered over your cracked lips.

"Umm…I’m cleaning" you said, though it sounded more like you were asking a question. 

The scowl settled onto Madara’s face turned sour as he clicked his tongue in disapproval. 

"You’re sick" he said. "You should be resting."

You shook your head in response. "No, I’m not. I feel fine, Madara."

As soon as the words left your lips a horrible cough crawled out of your throat. Your voice scratched against your throat, your nose burning with the scorn of the sun as the terrible cough made your ribs ache with every breath you took. You tried to vehemently fight it off, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as your heart pounded in your ears like the loud beat of a drum, making the throbbing headache you had feel immensely worse. It took a long moment for you to calm down from the sudden fit and you were mildly surprised you hadn’t coughed up a lung from the terrible bout. You sniffled pathetically, nose blocked and breathing harsh as you tried to force air back into your chest. Madara shook his head as he approached you.

"That’s it, back to bed with you" Madara decided. 

You didn’t get the chance to protest before he was on you and hauling you into his strong arms. Your feet were swept out from under you as he cradled you in his arms bridal style. The sudden shift in your stance made your head spin, your hands clawing at his chest and pulling the material of his robes taut between your fingers as you held on for dear life. 

"Madara, I’m fine" you croaked weakly. 

A deep sigh rumbled in his chest as he shook his head, wisps of his long hair spilling down your shoulders as he held you close and marched his way through the house and back to your shared bedroom.

"You are not" Madara argued. 

"But the housework…"

Your voice trailed off as another violent cough wracked your entire being, the ache resonating deep in your bones. You buried your face deep into the crook of your elbow, terrified of accidentally making Madara catch whatever terrible sickness you had. Though it was doubtful. He had been staying by your side for the past two days, even sleeping in the same bed as you without even catching a single sniffle.

Madara’s gaze softened when you finally settled down, your entire body trembling as that last coughing fit whittled down whatever little remaining strength you had left in you. 

"Trivial matters such as that can wait until after you feel better" Madara said and by the sound of his voice, he was giving you no room to argue back. 

Madara carried you all the way back to the bedroom, carefully depositing you back into the nest of soft pillows and fluffy blankets you had created. He lifted the covers for you, ushering you back under and you didn’t offer an argument this time. You nestled back under the thick layers of blankets, your head feeling heavy when it hit your fluffy pillow. Your throat was still itching like you had swallowed a mouth full of razor blades and the feeling would not go away no matter how many times you tried to clear it. You attempted to sit back up and fetch a glass of water but Madara was there to coax you back down and encourage you to stay where you were. 

"Stay" he softly commanded. 

 A disgruntled noise rumbled in your chest as you sniffed loudly. "But I need water."

"Then I’ll get it for you."

A small pout tugged at your lips and Madara couldn’t help the smile that tilted his lips. He sometimes didn’t understand why you could be so stubborn.

"What’s the matter?" Madara asked. "Afraid to rely on your husband?"

You nodded as you looked up at him with bleary eyes. "Don’t wanna look weak in front of you" you admitted. 

Your response set off an unexpected reaction in your husband as he threw his head back and barked with laughter. He pat your head, fondly ruffling the soft locks of your hair as your pout morphed into a scowl. Or what you could manage at the moment. His laughter died down as you flopped back into bed, his hand coming to rest on your forehead. He spared himself a sigh of relief. At least your fever had broken. But you still weren’t well enough to be wandering around the house and attempting to do chores. Your body was much too weak for that and still needed rest, no matter how much you tried to deny it. Madara’s face turned calm, his eyes holding fondness for you. Only you had managed to get under his skin in such a way. 

"You’re not weak, my love. You willingly married an Uchiha. It’s not for the faint of heart."

He omitted the part where he was so tightly wrapped around your finger that he would make the whole world fall to its knees if that was what you so desired. You grunted softly as he continued to pat your hair, your eyes slipping close under the ministrations. The repetitive motions were starting to make you drowsy and it was hard for you to fight off the call of sleep. Madara brushed wisps of your hair from your forehead, lips ghosting over your skin before he stood back up. 

"Just rest for now. And call on me, should you need anything else."

[cleake]

OMGGGGG can u do one where Draco has a crush on Gryffindor! Muggleborn!reader, but she’s a muggle born so he bullies her, so nobody finds out, and after one particular harsh insult, she breaks down and runs away and bumps into Harry (she’s besties w the golden trio) and he comforts her and they share a kiss, and the next day during breakfast, the whole school sees the pair walk in hand in hand, Hermione and Ron r teasing them and Draco is left feeling rlly guilty?

tysmmmmm

Hello, Hello

I enjoyed writing this (I’m working on other requests too, don’t worry :))

Warning: English is not my first language, please excuse any mistakes

Draco didn’t like you, he despised you. At least he had to. How would it look, you, a muggleborn, being with him? A majestic pureblood? Absolutely no. What would his father think? What would the people think? What would The Dark Lord think? He’d be despised and disowned, that’s for sure. But he secretly wished and hoped that one day he could be lovely to you. He secretly wished and wanted to be kind to you, he secretly wanted to make you feel loved and cared for. But his job is to make you feel horrible, helpless, disgusting because of the horrendous blood that pumps in your veins. How tragic.

And this day was no different, Draco found you, cornered you with his words and that disappointed, disapproving scowl on his face. 

„There you are, you filthy mudblood. Oh, how I was not looking forward to seeing you.” Lie. He couldn’t wait to see you. His heart was aching for it for the whole day, „What’s that? A potion book? You shouldn’t even be entitled to hold that, you disgrace.” 

It hurts, doesn’t it? You could feel how your embarrassment, rage, and frustration filled your mind and heart, you could feel how your throat tightened around your neck and your lungs flattened, making it harder to breathe. You looked at him, Draco Malfoy, standing in front of you with unspeakable hatred and contempt.

„Leave me alone, Malfoy. It’s not like you don’t have other ‚mudbloods’ to tease.” You said, calmly as for someone who’s getting insulted by a spoiled brat. No, he can’t leave you, you’re not just one of the mudbloods, you’re the mudblood. 

„Oh, talking back, are we?” He exclaimed, raising his eyebrows as he tilted his head, looking at you with wider eyes, „You shouldn’t be even allowed to talk to me. You shouldn’t even be allowed in this school. Your kind is a disgrace, disgusting excuses for wizards.” His face formed into a disgusted scowl again, his eyes caressed you up and down with contempt. How a muggle is so majestic, he thought, but he couldn’t tell you, not in a million years, he had to make his disgust for you known.

You sighed, annoyed and tired of Malfoy’s words as you tried to just walk away, trying to pass through him but no, he blocked your way and stood right in front of you, his eyes sharp with all the contempt he could muster.

„Where do you think you’re going, mudblood?” He asked in a lower, more threatening tone.

„My dorm room, now if you’ll excuse me.” You answered calmly again, not looking up at his face even, just trying to walk past him again. No, he grabbed your arm, his hand launching at it with a force that only a person full of hate could hold. You looked up at him and as you did his face was coming closer to yours, that scowl still there but something in his eyes changed. It wasn’t a big change, it was almost unnoticeable but you, someone who’s seen his disgusted face so many times, can tell that something’s different. His eyes were no longer sharp, his eyebrows lightly scrunched up, as if in an expression of desperation and small sadness. His lips were still a scowl and the corners of his nose were tight, tensed up, but you didn’t notice that.

„You’re staying here.” He said, his voice suddenly and surprisingly going softer, more delicate but still threatening, demanding. You both looked at each other for a moment in silence, trying to figure out what the other was thinking, what the other’s intentions were. He stared at you, at those eyes he desired to have for himself, at those lips he wanted to caress and kiss, at your cheeks that he wished he could hold and mark as his own. How unfair is this. How tragic. But you broke the moment of magic by shaking your head, Draco’s thoughts came back to reality and he had to pretend he was disgusted with you again.

„No, I’m not.” You said and snatched your arm away from him, walking away, your footsteps echoing and bouncing off the walls of the hallway, reminding him that soon they’ll disappear, that you’ll disappear. He can’t have that, he turned towards you again and his fingers brushed against your wrist gently, lightly, ghostly almost, as he desperately tried to hold onto you, to make you stay but you slipped away, continuing to walk, unaware of his hand, unaware of his feelings. He looked at you and his desperation mixed with his hatred for you, both of his feelings for you coming together in an honest, brutal rage. 

„Come back, you! Come back, filthy mudblood! You have no right to turn your back on me! You’re nothing but a fool, a disgrace, a disappointment, a traitor! Do you think someone will accept you in the real world? Hogwarts is only protecting you for a while, afterwards you’ll be alone in this world! You’ll have no one to turn to, no one to talk to, no one to help you, just because of your filthy blood!” Just because of your filthy blood, he thought, just because you have to be disgusting, just because others see you as disgusting, he can’t admit that he sees you as beautiful, just because you’re beautiful he can’t deny your blood, „Your blood will never be forgotten! Your blood will always be a burden, and your blood will always be disgraced! You only deserve to be disgraced!” He yelled after you, your back turned towards him as if his words didn’t matter to you, as if they were just whistling of the wind. But his words did touch you in some way, you could feel how your heart started to tremble, how your face formed into a look of sadness and hurt, and how you lightly squeezed the book you shouldn’t be holding to your chest. What a horrible boy he is, can’t he give up already? No, he can’t. 

„No one will care for you, no one will love you, no one will ever treat you as you want them to, because you only deserve to be disgraced, disowned, harassed, hated. Your only meaning in life is to be destroyed.” He added and that broke you inside, how can he be so stupid and cruel? What’s the matter with him? 

You didn’t try to understand or care, you started to walk faster through the hallway, still feeling his presence behind you, wanting to get away from his judging eye. You felt how your heart trembled and beat faster with sadness and hurt, you felt alone and started to question if the words he said were true. Of course they weren’t, he wanted to tell you that, he felt ashamed and embarrassed for telling you this, not the truth, but he can’t go after you, he can’t go apologise, he can’t let you know. He just watched you, as you slowly but surely disappeared after a turn in the hallway, hearing only how a small sniff echoed through the cold walls.

You felt tears choking you, you felt how your lungs shrank and suffocated you. You felt how heavy your steps were, how fast they were getting, and how your lips twisted into a frown. Draco has always been nasty to you and you tried your best to just ignore him, let him insult you and then walk away as if it was nothing, let him have his immature fun. But this time it ached your heart more than usual to hear him say that. And that mare soft look in his eyes for just a second made you feel even worse. You sniffed and sniffed, wiping your tears as quickly as you could when they fell down your face to not let anyone who could be in the hallways see them. You kept your eyes on the floor so no one would notice how glassy they were, you didn’t look up to see where you were going, just walking ahead as you felt how much your head was a mess of emotions, guilt, and anger. Everything in you boiled and you suddenly felt a force in front of you making you stop and stumble a few steps, your heart almost stopped and jumped in your chest.

„Oh, sorry— Y/N, it’s you.” You heard a familiar voice and felt a little better. You stood on your straight feet and finally looked up at the face of Harry Potter, „You… What has happened? Are you alright?” He asked, his brow narrowing a little in concern as he saw your glassy eyes and slightly redder nose, not the most flattering look on you. You shook your head at the beginning and wiped your eyes quickly.

„I’m alright, don’t worry.” You tried to deny your tears and gave him a small, forced smile but you could tell he wasn’t buying it, he tilted his head as he looked at you intently, he knew your honest smile too well to notice it.

„No, no, something’s not alright. You’re sad, Y/N, what happened? Can I help you?” He asked again and took a few steps towards you as you sighed and glanced down, trying to figure out what to say next.

„It’s nothing, Harry, really. You don’t have to worry.”

„Well, I do worry. I am worried, I don’t see my friend usually with teary eyes. You can tell me, Y/N, I’d like to be a good friend to you and help you.” He said as he tilted his head some more to be able to see your face as you glanced down. You focused your eyes back on Harry’s face and you could see the concern and care he had for you, the one Draco said you were so undeserving of. You didn’t want to tell Harry and be a burden to him but there was no point in lying.

„Draco told me a few new insults, nothing new.” You answered quickly, shaking your head dismissively and Harry furrowed his brow some more.

„I understand but you know not to listen to him.”

„I know.” You replied softly as you nodded your head and glanced down again, Harry still looked at you with concern and a bit of confusion.

„Then why—“

„I don’t know, it’s just been… A bit more personal this time.” You shrugged and sighed again, wiping the remains of your tears on your face.

„Personal?” Harry asked with a smaller voice as he watched you wiping your face, his concern growing, „Can you please tell me what Malfoy said to you?” 

You sighed yet again, feeling bad and uncomfortable about telling Harry this but he’s your friend, he deserves to know.

„He said that I don’t deserve love or respect because I’m a muggle. That I will be alone. He said that I didn’t deserve to be in Hogwarts, that I’m only a disgrace.” Only meant to be destroyed, you recalled Draco’s words in your head, the ache from them echoed in your heart.

Harry listened to you and nodded his head after your words, trying to think of something that could make this situation better for you.

„I see… Well, you know he’s lying.” He answered softly and you nodded your head.

„Yes, of course. But I can’t help but believe it, I am only a muggle, there’s not a lot of chance for me to be a great wizard.” You sighed in resignation and Harry tilted his head again.

„Don’t say that, don’t believe him. There are so many possibilities and potentials for you. You can’t just let Draco ruin them for you.” 

You nodded again.

„Yes, I know.” You replied shortly, your eyes wandering around the hallway as Harry still looked at you, his concern didn’t go away.

„Can I do something for you?” He asked a bit awkwardly as he shrugged, not sure what to do to cheer you up and make forget about Draco’s words. You stood in silence for a moment, not sure what to do either, everything felt so heavy. 

„No, Harry. You already did enough for me.” 

„Did I?” He asked as he raised his eyebrows and looked at you expectedly, „You’re still sad. I don’t want my friend to be sad.” 

You sighed, still feeling unsure about all of this. You glanced at Harry and flashed a small smile to reassure him but that smile didn’t reassure you. 

„I am but—“

„So what can I do?” He asked again, taking a step towards you, „Do you really think that Malfoy’s right? You really believe him?”

You shook your head but you did believe in Draco’s words somehow, you still felt that they were adequate.

„I… Harry, this conversation shouldn’t be this long.”

„Well, I want it to be long, I want it to be long and make you feel better.” He answered and paused for another moment. This was a bit awkward, Harry wanted to help but he didn’t know how and you didn’t know either, you just went in circles all the time. You both stood there in silence, glancing at each other from time to time with unsure faces, everything stood still. Harry looked at you once more and an idea formed in his mind but he wasn’t sure if it was a good one, it might make everything even more awkward.

„Do you want a kiss?” He blurted out and you looked back at Harry with surprise and shock.

„What?” You asked, Harry squirmed a little from the embarrassment, his eyes wandered off for a second and he brushed his hand nervously over his nose.

„Do you want a kiss?” He mumbled through his teeth as if it was a big secret, as if he was speaking the name of you-know-who. You still were a little caught off guard and confused by Harry’s proposal, would that make you feel better? You looked at Harry with confusion on your face, it was clear from your slightly furrowed eyebrows and your parted lips. Well, this is even more awkward, both of you stood there in another moment of silence while trying to figure out what to do.

„A kiss?” You spoke up and a small chuckle escaped your lips, making Harry look at you again with a bit of concern that you were laughing at him, „I don’t know, are you sure you want to?” You asked as you raised your eyebrow at Harry and he shrugged.

„I don’t see any harm in that. I’d like to comfort my friend and if a kiss would do it then I have no problem with it.” He replied, making you smile a little in amusement which was a relief to Harry, he liked to see you smile.

„Ha? Well, friends don’t usually kiss each other.” You said with a bit of playfulness, your tone much lighter than before, which made Harry smile too.

„No?” He tilted his head, „But who cares about that? It’s just a kiss. Would it make you feel better?” He asked with care, not wanting to do anything you wouldn’t want to do. You thought for a moment, kissing your friend out of the blue is a bit weird but maybe you need a bit of affection right now? And is it really that important? You both know each other and trust each other, maybe a kiss shouldn’t be weird, maybe it’s only weird because you think so.

You shrugged after a while.

„Maybe, we could… Try?” You chuckled a bit nervously and awkwardly with a slightly sheepish smile which made Harry feel a little better that he wasn’t the only one who was nervous. 

„Sure, we can try…” he answered and looked at you for a while, making you both giggle a bit in amusement as he was taking his time, like in a romance book. Harry took a silent breath to himself to calm down and approached you, making you smile with more amusement. He got close enough to you that the tip of the shoe touched yours, he slowly lifted his hands towards your face and you let out a small snort, not laughing at him or mocking him, you just couldn’t take this too seriously as a friend. Harry smiled a bit at your reaction and shook his head.

„Shut up.” He mumbled jokingly and you felt his hands slowly and carefully embracing your cheeks, his soft skin sliding smoothly across yours with a small brush. The touch was nice, comforting, and gentle, it was just what you needed. You nodded your head at his words, trying to compose yourself but you couldn’t stop your lips from smiling. Harry looked at you for a second before he slowly started to lean into your face, tilting his head to the side slightly in a bit dramatic fashion, making you snort again.

„Oh, come on.” He sarcastically rolled his eyes behind his glasses, „I’m trying.”

„Yeah, you’re really trying.” You chuckled and he shook his head in a joking disapproval at your behaviour, the smile still present on his lips.

„Shut up.” He repeated and without a warning, his face approached yours much faster than expected, his lips pressed against yours with force but also care, making the sensation pleasant and soft. You stood there for a second, processing and taking in the feeling of Harry’s kiss, your eyes still open as his closed. The moment lingered for longer as you gave in and leaned your head a little more into the kiss, reciprocating it tenderly, making Harry smile a bit more. You both stood there for a while, linked in the most intimate affection one could share, your lips softly and carefully brushing each other as if you two weren’t friends. You finally closed your eyes, letting yourself drown in the warmth you two were sharing, the gentleness and kindness, your one hand left your book and carefully landed on Harry’s cheek, making him hum quietly in delight at your touch. The scene was tender and loving, to your luck no one was in the hallway at the time but if someone saw you two it would be clear that there were a lot of feelings between you two. Finally, Harry gently pulled away from the kiss and opened his eyes to look at your soft, peaceful face, your eyes still closed as you took a silent breath with your parted lips, the warmth of his lips still echoed against yours. Your hand still was on Harry’s cheek and his own hands were cupping your face tenderly, lovingly, his eyes taking in your features. You opened your eyes and looked at him, noticing how his cheeks got redder and how his eyes softened for you. You both looked at each other in silence before smiles starched out on both of your faces, your shared giggles and chuckles filling the cold hallway.

„Thank you, that helped a lot.” You spoke up with a lighter and happier tone than before to which Harry nodded with a smile, happy to see you smiling.

„No problem, Y/N. I’m glad it did.”

His hands still held your face carefully as if he had forgotten to let you go. But your hand stayed on his cheek too, both of you touching without a problem.

„My lips were chapped.” You remarked as you lightly pressed your lips together, feeling them a little rough after the crying. Harry raised an eyebrow.

„Were they?” He didn’t notice, he was much more focused on you and how wonderful it felt to kiss you. You nodded and felt how your face was dry after the tears soaked into your skin.

„And my face is dry.” You chuckled and Harry smiled even more, shaking his head.

„Doesn’t matter.” He replied, still holding your face in his hands, forgetting that he was your friend.

The next day everyone was filling the Great Hall as they continued their breakfast, talking and laughing together. Ron and Hermione were sitting together at your usual table, waiting for you and Harry.

„Did you see them the day before?” Asked Hermione the mouth-stuffed Ron as he ate eagerly.

„No,” he mumbled, „I haven’t. After me and Harry talked I haven’t seen him since.”

„What about Y/N?”

„Y/N?” Ron paused for a second as he tried to remember something, the girl in front of him looked at him with disappointment and disapproval, making him less willing to say, „I don’t know.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and shook her head.

„Honestly Ronald.”

„What?”

At this moment you walked into the Great Hall, not alone, Harry held your hand bravely and gently brushed his thumb against yours as you approached the two sitting at your table. A few eyes turned to you, one of which belonged to your bully. A whisper here, a whisper there, and soon almost everyone in the room was looking at you two. But you and Harry didn’t pay too much attention to the others.

Hermione looked at you two as you got closer, noticing your intertwined hands and she nudged Ron in the shoulder, making him let out pretensions „Ow”. 

„Hey.” You said to them with a smile as you got close enough, Hermione raised her eyebrow slightly.

„Hey, Y/N, Harry.” She greeted you two as you still held hands, her eyes switching between you two, „You two seem… Closer than ever.” 

You glanced at Harry who gave you a small smile and a gentle squeeze of your hand.

„We do? You must be seeing things, Hermione.” You said, trying to brush her off as you sat down on the bench, Harry following closely after you, sitting next to you.

„Oh? Am I?” Hermione tilted her head and Ron chuckled as he saw you two.

„No, if anything, you two are not telling us something.” He said as he gave Harry a knowing smile at which Harry sighed silently and looked pleadingly at Ron, making him laugh out loud. As Ron and Hermione tried to squeeze out of you two more information you didn’t notice how you were being observed by a pair of eyes burning with jealousy. He was sitting far away from you to not notice him and why would you notice him? You were too busy with Harry. He observed how your hands stayed linked under the table, how Harry was leaning a little closer to you, how he was looking at you. That should be me, he thought as his face tensed up in his usual scowl but his eyes showed more sadness and hurt than he wanted them to show. He looked at you longingly, desperately wishing that you’d notice his gaze and glance at him, even just for a second. He’d be so happy. But you were turned away, not acknowledging him at all, as if his words didn’t touch you at all, as if you earned more than lost. His soul was on fire, he was boiling with jealousy, rage, and desperation. But he couldn’t do anything, you’re still a muggle, he can’t do anything.

[moodymisty]

May I pretty please request some Angron smut? Perhaps some breeding? No particular preference between Female/GN. I need more of him, almost no one writes for him 😭😭

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author's note: Sure thing fam. Enjoy. Kind of short, but I didn't want to drag it out.

Relationships: Angron/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Breeding kink but does it still count if the breeding was successful previously?, Tokophobia, Pregnancy, Size difference

When you had first told him, you had feared you would never see Angron again. Or worse, he would have your child taken away.

You know how he feels about The Emperor; About his legion having once attempted to refer to him as father. Fatherhood in general seems to be something he is vehemently apposed to in every aspect. You suppose you can understand why, in what little you've learned of his past. And what you haven't learned, you can fill in the gaps.

The prospect of so many horrible outcomes had made you more nauseous than even your condition had been making you, all the way up until Angron had finally returned to Terra.

When he had returned to his private quarters and noticed the way you were sitting, hands wringing and looking at him almost as scared as you had been when he first laid eyes on you, he looked down on your small form.

'What.'

He had said, watching the way you leaned over yourself and your loose clothing hid most of the shape of your body. You pursed your lips and spoke after swallowing the harsh knot in your throat.

But much to your surprise, he hadn't had the reaction you had so greatly feared.

He had actually shown a reaction far different than you'd even expected in response, with a gusto and determination you had never seen from him before. At least not in this context.

His hands wrapped tightly around your waist, raising and lowering you up and down on his lap with ease. His hands encompassed so much of your waist already even with your growing stomach, thumbs pressed underneath your chest.

Your legs were limp and useless as you faced him, mouth agape as you were already half lost. He leaned back, shoulders against the massive headboard of the bed that even still struggled to hold it's own against his strength- watching as he forces you to ride him.

'Angron...' You tried to hold onto his wrists to steady yourself, completely at the mercy of whatever he wished to do to you.

You could see his face was tense, brow furrowed tight and teeth clenched and grinding, the muscles of his neck flexing. The Nails were screaming at him, telling him to stop stop stop stop doing this stop thinking this but what he was chasing overrode the nails, if only for a brief time.

You felt the head of his cock bump and force it's way deep inside of you, feeling you to the absolute brim and almost beyond. The first few thrusts were always teetering into pain, no matter how gentle Angron managed to be. It always felt like he was going to force his way into your stomach, changing your body just for him, as he pushed his way into you.

It's obvious from the way he held you that the shape of your belly is different, growing, his eyes fixed on it oddly intently. You didn't notice it at first, too distracted by the feeling of finally sating that itch that had your cunt throbbing at near all hours of the day. When you did finally notice, you could only briefly wonder if there's something about it that strikes a cord in him he never realized was there before letting another hoarse moan out of your throat- tears pricking the corner of your eyes.

He never talks during moments like this; You believe it's because he's too focused on trying to balance the pleasure he's taking part in with the feeling of the nails ripping into his head. You make enough noise for both of you anyways.

'I, I didn't know you'd be like this... I thought you would be furious...'

He wishes to stay deep inside of you so much so that he barely raises you off his hips anymore, letting more more than half of his cock pull out of you as you whined, nails digging into his tanned, scarred skin.

He seemingly had endless stamina, and would finish inside of you only to instantly start moving inside of you once more and cause you to whine and cry at the overwhelming feeling. Only once you were near totally limp in his hands, so beyond cockdrunk and exhausted cum leaking down your thighs, did he finally stop.

You flopped beside him and panted, heart racing and skin feeling like it was on fire. Only once you caught your breath- and your own thoughts- did you manage to sit upright. His cum four times over still slick against your thighs.

Angron then looked at you stern; Stoic.

"Tell no one of this."

You look up at him with a questioning glance, and infer he is talking about his child. You wonder for a moment if he ever thought this was even possible, or if he'd refused to even entertain the prospect in his anger over the twisted forms of fatherhood around him.

"Not even your legion?" His nose wrinkles for a moment as he thinks.

"I will tell them."

You suppose that would probably be for the best. Even if they've begun to accept you beside Angron, this sort of news would be best delivered from his mouth than yours.

"But... What happens when I can't hide this behind my clothes anymore?"

Angron blows air from his lips in a gesture you would find almost cute; If not for the fact that he is trying to think despite the Nails biting hard.

"Then you will stay on The Conqueror until you have the child." The child. You wish he would say yours, our, but you can't expect the impossible. You wrap your arms around yourself, and by extension your belly, and look away.

You know he's trying to hide this from The Emperor first and foremost. You can't blame him. Not only do the two have astronomical differences that have made even the most simple interaction impossible, you know from Angron's brief tellings that The Emperor is no stranger to simply destroying things he deems distractions. To Angron in particular.

Angron puts a hand on your lap, and you can grip the side of his palm the way you always like to. He gives you a small grunt and you take a small amount of comfort in the weight of his hand, and the feeling of his hot, sun tanned skin.

"You will be fine. I will make sure of it."

[daisies-daydreams]

Hi, can I request Hobie x plus size gn!reader comfort w/ some fluff? Reader who grew up with family restricting their access to specific food by hiding or not buying certain things and has trauma related to that? (fueled by fatphobia? sorry if too specific) Goes into the kitchen in their shared living space with Hobie to find no butter in the fridge and starts panicking and crying because even if it's illogical maybe Hobie hid it or didn't get any on purpose like family did? Hobie ofc comforts and reassures that he'd never take food away from you or get mad at you or judge you for what you eat and offers to buy some butter later but just spends time holding reader and giving forehead kisses and maybe offering to cook reader's favorite food or comfort food?

Sorry if this idea is too specific or uncomfy! It's been a rough week. Love your fics regardless and your writing is wonderful. Hope you have a great year <3

What I See (Hobie Brown x Plus Sized!GN!Reader)

Pairing: Hobie Brown x Plus Sized!GN!Reader) Category: Hurt/Comfort Warnings: Depictions of Panic Attacks, Mentions of Fatphobia/Fatshaming, Body Insecurity Word Count: 1.2k+ A/N: Hello dear! I’m so sorry you’ve been having a rough time. I hope this week has been much better to you and I hope you have a great year as well. ☀️

You frantically scrambled through the contents of your fridge for what felt like the millionth time. You had a craving for grilled cheese a little while ago, making your way to the kitchen to gather the ingredients…only to find the butter missing in your fridge.

“You’re probably better off without it,” a family member’s voice sneered inside your mind. Your throat tightened as your heart began to pound inside your ears.

“You should eat something healthier anyway - what man would want someone who looks like you?” another voice scoffed. You squeezed your eyes shut as you slammed the fridge door shut and shook your head.

The horrific memories of your past came flooding into your mind like a violent tidal wave. The snarky comments, the hidden food, the restrictions you had to go through during holidays or family gatherings…even on your birthday. You desperately tried to shove the thoughts away as you paced into your living room, your body trembling as you sniffed.

Your heart nearly stopped when a thought crossed your mind.

What if…Hobie hid the butter from you?

You berated yourself for thinking such a thing…and yet the more you tried to deny it, the louder the voice became. You slowly sank onto the couch as you wrapped your arms around yourself, your body feeling heavier with each passing second as tears rolled down your puffy cheeks.

“You’ve been eating a lot more lately - of course he’d want to hide it from you,” the first voice spat. You cried as you threaded your fingers through your hair.

“You really think he’d want to be with a pig like you? Always stuffing their face?” another hissed venomously.

“Stop it,” you sobbed as your body tensed and heart burned with a dull, heavy ache. So many other horrible thoughts began to snowball.

What if he didn’t want you anymore?

Did he find you ugly now? A pig, a loser? Someone who lacked self-control?

Why would he hide things from you? After all this time-

You gasped as you felt someone place their hand on your shoulder. You whipped your head around, your eyes widening when you saw Hobie frown and tilt his head down.

“Lovie?” he murmured as he furrowed his brows. You sniffed and shifted your gaze towards your lap, shame burning deep within the pit of your stomach and consuming you like a wildfire.

“I-I’m sorry if I woke you up,” you cried and wiped at your red, puffy eyes. Your lover cooed as he slid onto the couch beside you. Your heart skipped a beat as he wrapped one of his lanky arms around your shoulder and pulled you close.

“It’s alright, hun,” he said with a warm look in his eyes. You felt a lump swell in your throat as he held you close, his heart beating steadily against your ear as you rested against his chest. “Wanna talk about it?” Hobie asked while playing with a loose string on your hoodie. You sighed as you closed your eyes.

“I…It's stupid,” you muttered. Hobie hummed and gingerly rubbed your arm.

“Hey, whatever you have to say, I’m here for you,” he said gently. You timidly glanced into his eyes before you took a deep breath.

"Hobie...did you - did you hide the butter from me?" you said hesitantly. A suffocating silence lingered in the air as the space between his brows creased even more.

"'Course not," he finally replied. You sighed with relief and sank into the couch cushions. "Can I ask why? You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," your boyfriend said. You opened your eyes as a bitter taste remained in your mouth. Your face contorted into different expressions as you debated with yourself on whether or not you would share. You eventually sat up straight as you gazed into his two deep pools of hickory.

"It's just...growing up, my family would often hide food from me in order to make me look 'more appealing'," your throat tightened as you recalled the awful memories. Hobie remained by your side as you continued. "And they would always remind me of what a failure I was if I gained even a little bit of weight," you curled your fists against the fabric of your pants as you sucked in a sharp breath. "I just...I'm sorry I never told you," you frowned. You gasped when Hobie suddenly pulled you into a tight embrace, his chin resting on top of your head as your face nuzzled into his chest.

"It's okay, hun. 'm not mad at you for not tellin' me," Hobie reassured you. You sniffed as more hot tears soaked through his ripped, black t-shirt. Your love rubbed his large palms up and down your back as you wept. It felt like hours before you finally felt relaxed enough to pull back. Hobie smiled and cupped your face before gently pecking your forehead.

"(Y/N)...I promise that I would never hide any food from you," your boyfriend stated. Your heart fluttered at his affirmation as he peppered your forehead with a few more kisses while smoothing his thumb over your knuckles. He sighed and rested his forehead against yours. "No matter what shape or size you are, you'll always be gorgeous to me," Hobie whispered as he rested your palm over his chest. Your eyes softened as you felt his heartbeat gently thrum beneath your hand.

He chuckled softly as you leaned forward and rested your lips against his. Hobie let his hands fall on our hips as you soaked in the feeling of his warm lips against your own. You smiled softly as you pulled back.

"Thank you...so, so much," you grinned as your eyes glossed over. Your love reflected your smile as he smoothed his fingers against your cheek.

"Welcome, doll," he beamed with a half-lidded gaze. Your cheeks flushed with warmth as he took your hand and grazed his lips over your knuckles. You giggled as he began to kiss up your arm before nuzzling his cheek against the side of your palm. "How 'bout I buy you some butter on my next trip to the store, yeah?" Hobie offered with a lopsided grin. You swore your love for this man grew with every word that fell from his lips.

"That sounds nice," you said with a sheepish smile. He grinned back and sighed as he squeezed your hand in his. You knitted your brows as Hobie slowly rose to his feet, a calm grin on his face as he gave you a warm glance.

"Good. Now in the meantime...I'll just have to make do and make your favorite food," he said with a shrug. You parted your lips as your eyes lit up.

"Oh baby, you don't need to do that," you flushed. Hobie clicked his tongue and shook his head.

"Afraid I have to. I'm obligated as your loving (and devastatingly handsome) boyfriend to pamper you," he said as he wiggled his brows. You couldn't help but laugh at his antics.

"Well, since you're insisting," you said while playfully rolling your eyes. Hobie chuckled before he squeezed your hand.

"Be right back," he winked again before slipping into the kitchen. You smiled as you watched your love shuffle around, his lithe form dancing around the room as he prepared your favorite dish. You sank back into the couch as your heart swelled with pure joy.

You finally felt like you were home.

————

Thank you for reading! ❤️

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[aceofstars16]

Next chapter here we gooo!

This one took longer to write than I would've liked but I was working on other things too and it is almost 4,000 words so...xD

I'm not sure how long it will take to write the next one and if there will be one or two more chapters after this one, but we shall see!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 Summary: While looking for their lost family members, the Pines find out more about this dimension - and the creatures that inhabit it.

Mabel couldn’t stop looking at Dipper. Sure, she managed to tear her eyes away from time to time to look for little Stan, but she always came back to Dipper. It was weird seeing him so old. But it was still him. She knew someone might say that it wasn’t really the Dipper she knew, but he was so close to being him. And after not seeing her Dipper for months, well, it was exactly what she needed.

An elderly alien rushed past her, giving Mabel and Dipper a wary look before disappearing into a building. A lot of aliens had seemed to be running into their homes, and while it was a little strange, Mabel was grateful for it as the streets were becoming much clearer. Hopefully it would make it easier to find Stan and maybe Ford too, if they were lucky.

Dipper’s hand tightened on hers and he sped up a little. Apparently, the alien’s behavior was concerning him too.

“So…” Mabel ventured, breaking into a trot to keep up with the older version of her brother. She had tried to taper down her desire to ask questions, but she couldn’t handle keeping quiet any longer.

Looking down at her for a second, Dipper raised his eyebrows. “So?”

“How did you end up here? I mean…Ford told me how he did but…” Mabel’s legs tripped over each other as a thought crossed her mind, and Dipper quickly slowed down to let her catch her footing.

“You okay?” He asked, looking at her then around the square, his body tense.

“Yeah…I…I just remembered what Ford said happened to him…did…did I push you into a portal?” Mabel didn’t really want to ask, the thought was too horrible to consider, but she had to know. Was there a possibility for her and Dipper to ever grow apart like Stan and Ford?

Dipper sighed, still looking around, not meeting her gaze. “I don’t like the look of these streets…” he muttered. “We should probably-” he glanced at Mabel and paused. It was as if he could feel the anxiety that was clawing its way into her chest. Or maybe he could just see it on her face.

Squeezing her hand tight, he gave her a strained smile. “No. You didn’t push me into the portal. It’s…a long story, but I think we should find some shelter firs-”

A loud shrieking interrupted him.

Mabel turned to look in the direction of the sound and froze as she saw the source.

“Run!” Dipper yelled and pulled on her arm, but she couldn’t move. The creature had its eyes locked on her and her body refused to respond. The world around her seemed to fade away, in the back of her mind, she knew she should run, but she could only focus on the beast. Something about the dragon-like creature seemed innocent and pleading. It needed help. If she could just touch it…

Then something grabbed her and lifted her up. She fought the arms, needing to get away, to get to the creature. It needed help. She clawed and bit and struggled until she finally broke away from the arms around her. Then she bolted towards the helpless animal.

 “Mabel NO!” A distant voice sounded, but Mabel didn’t know who it was. All she knew was that she needed to do this. It was the right thing to do.

Running as fast as she could, Mabel raced towards the dragon, she was almost there... Then something yanked her arm back. She screamed and fought against it, reaching her arms towards the creature.

Its sharp teeth grinned, it knew she wanted to help. It jumped forward, attacking the arms that were holding her back. She heard a yell but it barely registered, all she knew was that she was free. Rushing forwards, she held her arms out towards the creature. Then she heard a strange pinging sound followed by the beast’s roar.

The world shifted. The bright colors faded and the desperate need to get to the dragon vanished in an instant.

Instead of the poor, hurt animal she had been seeing, she was now looking at a horrifying creature. It towered above her, its spiky scales dripped with something black and sticky, and in its teeth…a shudder ran through her.

Stumbling backward, Mabel quickly glanced back to see Dipper holding a gun, aiming at the beast. His sleeve was torn and blood was dripping from it, but he didn’t seem to notice. His glaze flickered to her and relief crossed his face.

“Get out of here! I’ll try to keep it distracted.”

Mabel didn’t need any more urging, she bolted forward, but she only took two steps before something tripped her leg. She fell face first into the ground, her head ringing with the impact.

“Mabel!”

Dipper’s voice echoed around her and she tried to get to her feet. Then pain exploded in her leg and she was pulled further away from her brother. There was pinging, but the creature was determined to keep Mabel in its grasp. Panic surged through her chest, but as she tried to pull away, the pain in her leg increased. She was trapped.

------

So much for ten minutes. The thought crossed Stan’s mind as he walked next to Ford. It was still kind of weird seeing his brother so old, and sometimes he found himself thinking it was Dipper for a second. But then he’d see the six fingers or Ford’s face and he was quickly reminded who he was actually with.

Stan had tried to ask questions, he had so many swirling through his mind, but Ford had ignored him or told him short answers that didn’t really provide any clarity. So, he’d stopped trying. However, that wasn’t the only reason he’d kept silent for the past few minutes. If he was honest with himself, he was scared. Every time Ford looked at him or talked to him, Stan couldn’t shake the feeling that old Ford didn’t like him. Which was ridiculous! How could Ford not like him? They were brothers! Sure, they sometimes argued and they had their differences, but they always had each other’s backs. But Stan couldn’t push aside the feeling that Ford wasn’t exactly thrilled to have Stan around, and that created a well of fear inside him. Did Ford grow up to hate him? Or think he was just annoying? Was there any way that they would grow apart and not want to be around each other anymore?

Stan bumped into a leg and realized that Ford had stopped walking. Looking around, he tried to see if there was a reason for this. He didn’t see anything out of the ordinary aside from the emptying streets. He’d noticed that a while ago and despite it being strange, it also made it easier to move and harder to get lost so he counted it as a win.

“Do you see the person you’re looking for?” Stan asked. He didn’t see any other humans, but maybe Ford’s friend wasn’t human – he hadn’t gotten his brother to fill him in on who he’d lost.

Ford quickly looked down at Stan, a shadow crossing his face before shaking his head. “No…but I don’t like the look of the locals…something isn’t right.”

As if on cue, an aforementioned alien rushed past them and into a building, slamming the door. The sound of it locking from the inside could be heard even from the middle of the street.

Okay, yeah, that was ominous…but… “Hey, it makes it easier to find people…like the person you are looking for...if they are a person…”

Letting out a huff, Ford glanced at Stan again, indecision on his face. Then he shook his head. “I suppose it doesn’t really matter if you know or not.” He said quietly. “I’m looking for Mabel.”

Stan opened his mouth, ready to ask a billion questions, but Ford held up his hand.

“Not the Mabel you know. She’s younger, about your age. My guess is in your universe, her and Dipper take the place of me and you, and vice versa.”

“Obviously.” Stan said sarcastically, teasing his brother coming too naturally to stop. But then the words really sunk in. “Wait…little Mabel??? What is she like as a kid?!? Gosh, I bet she’s the coolest! I mean, she’s cool as an old person, but like, kid Mabel?!? She has to be the most fun ever!”

A quiet laugh escaped Ford, and Stan was surprised to see a soft smile on his face. “That she is…” Then his face clouded and he shook his head. “We need to keep moving. It might be best to find an inn or-”

A horrible screeching sound echoed through the deserted streets, cutting Ford off.

Ford’s hand tightened around Stan’s and he started pulling him to one of the buildings. Stan offered no resistance. Sure, there were some pretty cool creatures around, but unfortunately he’d learned that some of them only cared about one thing – food.

 Ford pulled at one, door, then another, but they were locked. Apparently, the locals had a reason for deserting the streets.

Then something else echoed through the streets, not the creature’s screeching. No, it was yelling. Human yelling. And one word was plain as day.

Mabel.

Ford froze, his body stiffening. Then, without a word, he bolted toward the sound. His grip on Stan’s hand had lessened, resulting in Stan’s hand slipping out of his. In all honestly, Stan knew most people wouldn’t have followed. But he wasn’t most people. It might be some young Mabel that he didn’t know, and maybe it was a crazy creature that he had no way of fighting. But there was no way he was letting Ford go by himself. His family was in danger and he wasn’t just gonna sit aside and do nothing. So, he bolted after his old brother, letting adrenaline rush through him as they raced towards the sound of a fight.

------

Dipper was back at the portal, watching Mabel slowly being pulled towards it, knowing he would do anything to stop her from facing that fate. But now he was looking at a younger version of his sister – who wasn’t his Mabel but who he still would do anything to protect – as the dragonesque creature pulled her by the leg.

Glancing around desperately, Dipper pulled out another one of his guns. He had found, lost, and made many on his journeys, but he hadn’t been expecting a fight, so most of them were in their dormant travel modes. His hand found one ready to use and he quickly aimed and fired.

The bullet flew at the dragon, but it didn’t even blink as it hit the gooey hide. Instead, it glanced at Dipper and he swore he could see amusement in its eyes, as if he was just a source of amusement for it.

Panic welled up in Dipper’s chest. He had to figure out something. All he was doing was prolonging the pain Mabel was in. He knew from experience how awful it was to have something bite a limb and not let go.

“Let her go you foul beast!”

Dipper didn’t have time to see the source of the voice before a freezing cold ray hit the creature on the side of its head, creating a shockwave of cold. It roared in pain, releasing Mabel from its grip.

Without a second thought, Dipper rushed forward and grabbed Mabel. As he scooped her up, he did his best to ignore the pain in his arm – Mabel was more important right now – and stumbled away from the creature. Only then could he get a look at who had fired the ice blast.

Dressed in all black, the first striking thing was that he was human. Dipper hadn’t stumbled upon many humans aside from alternate earth dimensions, so seeing one was rare. The second was that he was older, and next to him…

“Stan!”

Stan looked at him and waved, then was yanked out of the way by the black clad man as the creature lunged forward.

“Grunkle Ford!” Mabel cried out from Dipper’s arms, confirming what Dipper had already guessed, the man was her Ford. What were the odds of Stan finding the older version of his brother and Dipper finding the younger version of his sister? Maybe it was just destiny, or luck, Dipper didn’t really have time to decide as the dragon roared again, glaring angrily at Ford.

“Get Mabel and Stanley out of here!” Ford yelled as he shot another ice blast at the creature.

“What? I can help!” Stan shouted.

“We can’t leave him!” Mabel cried, gripping Dipper a little tighter.

“Get them out of there!” Ford yelled as he rolled out of the way of the beast’s tail.

Everything inside of Dipper screamed to help Ford. Maybe he didn’t know him, but Mabel and Stan did, and they cared about him. But at the same time, Mabel was hurt and he knew that it was only a matter of time before someone else got hurt. Forcing down the guilt in his gut, he rushed towards Stan, grabbing his hand with his injured arm and pulling him along, gritting his teeth at the resulting pain.

“Hey! Grunkle Dipper, stop! I can help!” Stan struggled against him but Dipper held firm as he continued to run.

“We have to get Mabel somewhere safe first.” Dipper said, pulling Stan along and hoping that his strength would hold out enough to get the kids to safety.

“I’m okay…r-really.” Mabel spoke, and Dipper saw her looking worriedly behind them at Ford’s slowly shrinking form. But despite her words, her skin looked pale and she was shaking in his arms.

As he ran, Dipper kept an eye out for a suitable hiding place. Every door seemed to be closed tight, and he guessed that most aliens locked their doors at night for obvious reasons. Then he caught sight of a door that was slightly ajar. Rushing forward, he pushed it open and stumbled in. But as the door banged against the wall, Dipper realized that his hand was empty. Stan’s arm was no longer in its grasp, and the boy was nowhere to be seen.

------

I can’t keep this up. The thought crossed Ford’s mind as he rolled away from the creature’s mouth once again. He had tried shooting it in the face again, but it had learned from last time and was getting better at anticipating his attacks. He was still able to hit it occasionally, but his hits weren’t slowing it down as much as before, and his movements were getting sloppier as his exhaustion grew. But he had to keep it distracted, had to make sure that it wouldn’t go after Mabel again. He could still see the fear on her face when he had first arrived on the scene. That alone gave him the energy to keep up his attacks, even while his body screamed at him to stop.

Jumping back as the beast once again tried to trip him with its tail, Ford raised the gun and fired. It was hardly a perfect shot, and it only grazed its sticky scales. The creature’s eyes glinted and it lunged towards him once again. Only years of trained reflexes saved him as he barely managed to spin to the side and avoid the dragon’s sharp teeth.

Ford’s lungs burned at he ran towards a canopy one of the shop keepers had set up and slid under it. He knew he couldn’t hide for long, the creature would find him quickly, and he couldn’t risk it following Dipper and the kids, but he needed a few seconds to catch his breath.

Pressing his back against the wall, Ford forced himself to take deep breaths, no matter how much his lungs burned and screamed at him to breath as quickly as possible. However, that didn’t stop the beast from finding him. Through a hole in the awning, Ford could see it locking eyes with him before letting out a roar.

Hefting his gun, Ford prepared himself to run.  

“Hey, stupid dragon, over here!”

An achingly familiar voice echoed through the streets and Ford quickly searched for the source. Sure enough, Stan was standing in the middle of the square, fists raised as if he could actually fight the thing with his hands.

“Stanley! GET OUT OF HERE!” Ford yelled. He couldn’t believe the kid…okay, well, it did seem like something that Stan would do, but he was supposed to be safe with Mabel, not facing off against a dragon.

The creature, who had been focused on Stan, looked back at Ford, as if trying to decide who to go after. It only took a second before it charged at Ford once again, seeming to think that he posed more of a threat. Which was an accurate assessment.

Bolting forward, Ford ran away from Stan, hoping the younger version of his brother would take a hint and get out of there. But as he turned to aim his gun, he saw Stan running towards the beast, yelling at the top of his lungs as he threw a rock at it.

The rock knocked harmlessly against the dragon’s head. For a split second, it turned to look at Stan and, in that instant, Ford saw his chance. With the creature distracted, its face was an easy target. In one fluid movement, Ford leveled his gun, took aim, and fired right at its eye.

The roar that erupted from the beast echoed throughout the streets, making Ford’s ears ring as he bolted forward, taking advantage of the dragon’s distressed state to fire off a few more shots, effectively freezing most of its face.

“That’s right you gross, stupid-” Ford reached Stan and slapped his hand over his mouth before he could say anymore.

“It can still hear!” He snapped, keeping his voice low.

Stan pouted but didn’t say any more. Satisfied that he would keep quiet, Ford removed his hand from his mouth and instead grabbed Stan’s arm, pulling him along as he raced into an alleyway. He knew the creature wouldn’t be blinded by ice forever, they had to move quickly if they wanted to get away without it following them.  

“That was awesome!”

Ford winced at Stan’s voice and shot him a look, but at least he had waited until they’d made it to a different street to speak, and he kept his voice quieter.  

“No, it was dangerous,” Ford snapped in a low voice. “I told you to go with Dipper.”

Stan let out a huff even as they continued to run. “Oh, come on, Sixer. You’re just mad I saved you!”

An icy chill ran through Ford at the nickname. He hadn’t heard it in a long time, and last time he had…Shaking his head, he focused on the situation at hand. “No, I’m mad that you didn’t listen. You could’ve been killed.”

“So could’ve you!”

“You could have too.”

“What?”

“Gramm-”

“There!” Stan shouted out, louder than Ford would’ve liked, cutting off his correction to Stanley’s poor grammar.

Stan pulled on Ford’s hand, pointed towards a building, and despite his frustration with his little brother, Ford gritted his teeth and followed.

As they reached a side door, Stan rushed forward.

“Stanley, wait!” Ford hissed, but Stan had already rushed forward and flung the door open.

“Stop right there!” A voice cried out.

Ford immediately pulled up his gun, ready to fire, only to find himself looking at another gun aiming at him.

“Don’t shoot!”

Ford’s hand dropped a fraction at the familiar voice. Relief washed over him as he saw Mabel sitting behind the man with the gun, who he now realized was the older version of Dipper.

“Stan…” Dipper let out a breath of relief as he noticed Stan standing next to Ford.

A roar echoed through the streets.

“Inside, now.” Ford quickly ushered Stan into the building and followed behind him before grabbing a barrel of provisions and pushing them in front of the door. It wouldn’t stop the dragon, but it would at least make sure nothing else could get in.

Once the door was secure, Ford turned to take stock of the situation. There was a small lantern of sorts lighting up the room. It must have been a supply room, as there were barrels of different foods lining the walls, but thankfully no one else seemed to be occupying the space.

Letting out a breath, Ford immediately looked at Mabel. She looked tired, and paler than usual, but thankfully her leg seemed to already have been tended to.

Walking forward, he crouched down, opening his mouth to speak, but two small arms were flung around his neck before anything could come out.

“I’m glad you’re okay.” Mabel said quietly, her arms tightening around him.

A lump formed in Ford’s throat and he carefully wrapped his arms around her and hugged her back, taking comfort from the fact that she was here and she was okay.

“I helped!”

Stan’s voice sounded from behind him and Ford felt his annoyance at his brother’s recklessness return. But then Mabel leaned back from her hug and a grin grew on her face as she saw Stan, who was standing next to Dipper.

“Well now I know you’re Stan!”

A grin grew on Stan’s face. “And you’re Mabel, the coolest Grantie ever!”

“Uh…” Mabel paused at that, seemingly unsure how to respond. “Thanks?”

“So, do I like fight a bunch of stuff when I’m old too?” Stan didn’t seem worried about Mabel’s uncertainty, and despite the frustration that still tried to cling to Ford, he was grateful that Mabel seemed to be acting like herself.

“Oh, yes! You punched a dinosaur in the face to get Waddles back for me, and you fought off a bunch of zombies to protect me and Dipper, it was so-” A shadow passed over Mabel’s face as she seemed to remember that the Stan and Dipper in the room with them weren’t the ones who had experienced those events with her.

A mix of sadness and anger pricked at Ford’s heart and he quickly cleared his throat. “We will have time for stories later. Mabel, you should rest.”

Mabel glanced at her leg, then at Stan and Dipper. “Only if Dipper rests too.”

Ford glance at the older version of his great nephew and noticed the bandage around his arm for the first time, along with the uncertainty on his face.

“I can keep watch.” Ford said, knowing that if Dipper was anything like him, he wouldn’t be able to rest unless he knew it was safe.

Dipper opened his mouth, then looked at Mabel and sighed. “Okay, I’ll rest some. But only if you or Stan wakes me up to take over after a few hours.” He looked at Ford for a moment, as if studying him. “You look like you could use some sleep too.”

“I assure you I’m-” Ford started, but Mabel poked him and he saw her looking worriedly at him. Leave it to her to worry about him when she was the one with the hurt leg.

“You did run a lot.” Stan said pointedly, though Ford was surprised to see worry on his face as well.

Glancing at Dipper, and seeing a similar concern on his face, he realized he was outvoted three to one.

“Alright, deal.”

[thechillsquid]

Ford x Bill? Nah

Fiddleford x Ford? Nah

What if I present to you… Fiddleford x Bill

What then, huh? Like think how toxic that would be, espically if it’s post- falling into the portal yet pre full on blind-eye

They’re both so desperate to erase the past and to pretend everything’s fine with a fun little dash of mania and lack of self-care

Like imagine how batshit of a duo!

Here’s a writing of their first official meeting:

Fiddleford didn’t know what to with himself, pacing a hole in the floor as he tried to calm his unraveling thoughts. It had been nearly a week since last he’d even see Ford and he just, he just didn’t know what to fucking do!

He’d helped him, God, he’d helped Ford build a goddamned doomsday device! Who knows what damage had been done!? What could come out of that damned hole in reality! What if Ford opened it again!? What if— if that… that thing came through!

He, he couldn’t go home! He didn’t have a fucking home to go back to anymore! He’d given so much, for so fucking much and— and look where it had gotten him! Fiddleford thought, oh how he’d thought, that this would work out, that maybe he could, could what? The divorce had already gone through, he’d essentially run off with so many damned promises he could have never kept even if he wanted to…

He crumbled to his knees, clutching at his hair with ragged breaths, he— he just wanted to forget—

So occupied with his own spiraling, he didn’t even realize as his body gave into the exhaustion driving him for the last few days. As the world went gray and still. As someone— or rather something— else entered the room.

“Well, well, well!”

Fiddleford jolted, mouth dry. “H-Hello…?” His voice was barely a whisper as his heart skipped a beat. He turned and was met with something odd, and he almost felt glad for the absurdity of it, if it wasn’t so damn familiar.

It was a golden, little triangle… in a top hat and bow tie of all things…?

“What? Cat got your tongue?”

The way this thing’s voice carried, the sugar-sweet wrongness of its tone, that one ever-watching eye. Something in his subconscious withered away from it, his eyes widening. “I know you,” he said, and he hated himself for it, to even give this thing the time of day.

“Is that so, wise guy!”

The… floating triangle (at least it didn’t have any horrid claws or fangs from what he could tell) drifted down to be face to… face (?) with him. That one cat-slit pupil never glancing away for even a second, burning that blank stare straight through his very soul.

He shriveled in on himself, this felt wrong. Wrong and dangerous and…

Triangles… triangles with. With. With one eye.

Fiddleford wanted to throw up. He knew where he’d seen this thing before. Glass stained windows, prisms, statues, murals with symbols and markings too damn neat and tidy, carvings and drawings and—

A portal.

A triangular portal. With that. That one staring eye. Endless screaming, fires burning, things that were strange and horrible and wrong.

“You…” He scrambled backwards, “You’re the one that helped him m-make that damned portal! You’re the one— you’re—“

“The names Bill, Bill Cipher! Just don’t go and wear it out!”

Bill Cipher. So that’s what it was called. “W-What, what do you want!? I— I, I ain’t helpin, helpin’ with that damn—!”

It cut him off with a laugh, and oh, he flinched. It was such a grating, shrill sound. Wrong and cruel and joyish.

“Now, now! Chill out, pal!”

It leaned an arm against his shoulder, that eye narrowing.

“Yeesh! Would you look at those bags, ha, whatcha been up to there, buddy? I thought you meat sacks needed to sleep!”

The man didn’t respond, watching its every move tensely. ‘Bill’ seemed to grow annoyed with that.

“Hello? Am I talking to thin air here, specs? I said, whatcha been up to pal.”

Bill’s voice dipped low and something in him told him to answer, otherwise, things would go very, very wrong.

“I-I, I— I’ve, it’s, it hasn’t been, uh, b-been easy to, to sleep…”

“Aw, what a bummer! Well, lookey-here, specs, but it seems your little chit-chat with my star-A pupil’s gone a little sour, so how’s about we talk about that, hm?”

Who… “F-Ford…?”

The entity brightened, quite literally. The darn thing glowed like a star.

“Well would you look at that! You do still have half a mind rolling around in there afterall, though who knows how much longer that’ll last you! Ha!”

“W-What?”

The demon waved him off, drifting off to kick back and relax.

“Don’t worry about it, specs! Let’s get back on topic, because it seems you’ve gone and made poor ole Sixer go a bit… off the rails. Honestly, it’s like you told him it would be the end of the world or something!”

He rose, feeling somewhat defensive, “W-Well if, if you’re the lunatic that, that h-helped him make that damned portal, t-then good riddance! Go, go and bother someone else!”

It laughed, it fucking laughed at him. Fiddleford bared his teeth, “The hell ya laughin’ at you damned varmint! Don’tcha understand English! G-Get out!”

It turned to him, suddenly inches from his face.

“You know, I’d choose your next words very, very carefully. I’m offering you an opportunity here! You haven’t even let me talk yet! Jeez!”

The thing drifted back, small and cheerful once again, it waving its hand about.

“Fordsey’s practically a mess without you around! And not to mention… difficult. So how’s about we go over there and cheer him up, how’s about it!”

Fiddleford quietly shook his head, stepping back. He couldn’t— he couldn’t go back there, he—

“Ugh, fine. Be like that, I’ll just have to find a snake then…”

“W-What—?” He blinked, and he was once more alone in his room, staring at nothing. One trembling hand came to clutch at his head. He was fucking losing it.

[ghl-osty]

fanfiction

i’d like to talk about fanfiction real quick because there are some issues really frequently that can make or break a story. and they’re avoidable!! and it makes me so sad when i’m trying to read a good fanfic and there’s so many errors that i have to stop.

NAMES

so this is one i see surprisingly often… please make sure you know how to spell a character’s name when writing a fanfiction. it’s usually something small like damian vs. damien or lucas vs. lukas but to me it’s so distracting and disappointing when there’s a beautifully written story with a character’s name spelled wrong.

SPELLING

this is a big one, too. when writing, some people don’t always have a spell check or an editor built in to their platform. if that’s you, please triple check your work! and here are a few frequent ones i see-

-shook vs. shock

i shook his hand

i was in shock that she did such a horrible thing

-peaked vs. piqued

-he looked like he peaked in high school

-they piqued my interest

blonde vs blond

-she had blonde hair

-he had blond hair

blonde is a gendered word. i’m not actually sure how it’s used with nonbinary people, let me know!

their, there, and they’re

-it was theirs

-she’s over there

-they were scared, and now they’re not

remember that they’re is a contraction of they are!

quite vs. quiet

she tried to be quiet, not making any noise.

they were quite bored with this whole event.

(thank you to @nathaaaan for the suggestion)

SERIES VS. SERIE

i watched a really good series yesterday

serie isn’t actually a word…

BILINGUAL CHARACTERS

please, please, please do some research if you write a character who speaks another language. even if it’s reading other fanfictions to figure out how your character’s language fits in with the language you’re writing with.

-having a character to say that it’s ’hard to switch back’ is… unrealistic at best. i wouldn’t recommend using it.

-please gender the words correctly! in most of the romance languages, words are gendered. make sure to add that in!

REPETITION

unless you’re going for a gimmick, i’d be careful with repetition. having a character say something more than once, especially in the same sentence, can be annoying and makes the dialogue sound forced.

especially the word antics…. i literally had to put a fic down because ‘antics’ was in every other sentence.

ex: “Lily sighed, annoyed. She was so annoyed!”

(yes this is a real actual example with the character name changed. don’t let this be you.)

FORMATTING

i think this can be overlooked a lot but format is important!!!

-paragraph breaks!! seeing a huge chunk of words with absolutely no breaks is overwhelming. add some space!

-“the punctuation goes inside the quotations.” he said

-i know i’m being a bit of a hypocrite, but capitalization! names, beginning of sentences, and places!! if you don’t capitalize, at least be consistent with it!

“This is how fanfiction, or really any writing, should be formatted.” Eli said with a smile

“And every new sentence should be a paragraph break,” interjected Alex, “Unless you’re going for a certain style. In which case, you do you.”

Eli sighed. “That’s true, Alex. What OP didn’t know was that tumblr has a formatting issue, so that when she posts this, the paragraph breaks won’t show! She hopes she fixed it. But it might not work!”

“We can always imagine the bullet points as paragraph breaks.”

-friendly neighborhood reminder that paragraph breaks happen when introducing a new idea as well!

-bolds and italics are important.

“I told him not to go,” acceptable, a bit dry.

“I told him not to go,” exquisite, flavorful.

and as always. please make sure they’re talking like people. not disney sitcom characters.

PAST, PRESENT, AND FUTURE TENSE

you would not believe how much i see this messed up. and it’s easy to get wrong. remember, you can always look something up if you aren’t sure. but stay consistent with your tenses!

past tense

She walked up to the drab, grey building, trembling. As she pulled the door open, a bell rang, signaling her arrival.

this one’s probably the most used. notice that it’s almost like we’re retelling the story, after it’s already happened (hence past tense)

present tense

She walks up to the drab, grey building, trembling. She pulls the door open, and a bell rings to signal her arrival.

we have to change quite a few words for the same sentence to make sense in present tense.

future tense

She’ll walk up to the drab, grey building, trembling. She’ll pull the door open, and a bell will ring to signal her arrival.

i honestly don’t think i’ve ever seen future tense used in a novel unless it’s used in dialogue. but it’s almost as if you’re speaking hypothetically about an event.

but please make sure you’re consistent with these! don’t use one and then switch to another!!

now of COURSE writing is a form of creation, and you can ultimately do whatever you want! if you want to write something, write it. this is just a little guide for some of the mistakes i see most often!

but all in all just double check your writing, always!!! there are so many good works out there that could be great.,… if you don’t have someone to beta read you can always send it to me or put it in word <3

[autumnshighlady]

I’ve Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 14)

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: Reader and Azriel have a talk, Nesta discovers Eris’ secret

warnings: Night Court slander, semi graphic torture, Rhysand is horrible

word count: 7.1k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: IM BACKKKKKK!!!!!! SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG!!! This is some of my worst writing but I love the concept so here ya go, I hope this was worth the wait! More action coming soon, chapter 16/17 are gonna be HUGE!!!!!! x

feedback is appreciated, just no hate pls! these are just my opinions, i’m more curious to see how you all like the writing and characterization and storylines!

part 1 // part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / part 13 / part 14 / part 15 /

read on ao3

Spotify playlist

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

READER POV

You didn’t know how long it had been since Rhysand left you bloody and strung up in the cell. In some ways, you were grateful that the past while had been a blur. Your memory was a haze of flashes of searing pain, Rhysand’s voice in the background demanding you reveal the bond to him and admit the details of your conspiracy against his court. Yet you did not break, even as those tendrils of dark power carved into your already open wounds.

Despite not being able to feel her on the other side of the bond, Nesta was what got you through it. The thought of her in Autumn, far away from the Night Court’s reach, made you grit your teeth and fight the urge to crumble in front of the High Lord. You closed your eyes and pictured the eldest Archeron sister wandering through the paths of the woods, brilliant leaves of red and gold falling around her and landing on the soft grass. Her creamy skin adorned in a soft emerald dress, that golden-brown hair trailing down her back, finally free. You pictured her happy, content in her new environment. With Eris.

Even in your half-conscious state, you wondered how well the two were getting along. While the Inner Circle thought the Autumn heir was a cruel, sadistic bastard, you always knew Eris as your best friend’s older brother… the aloof, sarcastic male who would attempt to charm you to piss off Lucien. You never told Lucien, but every wink Eris had sent your way made butterflies swarm in your stomach. Eris was clever, a good intellectual match for Nesta at least. You had faith in her to be able to navigate the Autumn Court politics. After all, she had been raised to be a perfect courtier. Why the Inner Circle wanted to ignore that and make her into a warrior instead was mind-blowing. Even Lucien, who was incredibly skilled at negotiating and getting along with other courts, was treated like trash by the Inner Circle.

You missed him terribly. It had been months since you had seen Lucien, who was reportedly dwelling in the human lands now. You suspected he was being fed lies by Feyre and Rhys about your involvement in their court. No doubt their version of the story told a tale that painted you as the obedient female who eagerly immersed herself into the Night Court, grateful to be given this chance.

The eerie quiet of the cell was broken by the rush of air in the corner, the soft sound itself deafening against your pounding head. You couldn’t recall the last time you drank water, your throat dry as sandpaper. You didn’t lift your head up, for the weight of it was too much for your neck to bear. You did nothing, just accept the fact that Rhysand had returned for another crack at you.

But it was not Rhysand’s sneering voice that muttered, “Mother above.”

“Az…” Your voice was raspy and almost unrecognisable as you lifted your chin up. The spymaster stood before you, eyes widened slightly. His jaw was tense, and there was something about his expression you couldn’t decipher.

When he didn’t say anything, you tried again. “Please… help….”

“What happened?” He asked coldly, his shadows swirling around him. You flinched as they approached, drifting towards you like Rhysand’s mist had. The action didn’t go unnoticed. Azriel blinked, the only indication of surprise he was likely to give. Still, you could see it in his eyes as he put the pieces together. Not once had you ever flinched from the shadows that hovered around him. Until Rhysand’s own likened darkness had cut through your skin like butter.

“Water…” You mumbled. For a moment, you thought Azriel was going to ignore your request and continue to just stand there staring at you. But after what appeared to be a moment of contemplation, the spymaster pulled out a small canteen and unscrewed the lid. With his scarred hands he lifted it up to your lips. Your entire body sagged in relief as you eagerly drank the water, taking as much as he would give you. After downing about half of the liquid, Azriel stepped back.

“Thank you.” You said, voice clearer this time now that your dry throat had vanished.

“Rhysand did this to you.” Azriel said more as a statement than a question. After training with the spymaster for months, you could read him a bit easier than before. There was something behind his expression, revealed by the widened eyes and tensed jaw, that made you think whatever Azriel had expected his High Lord to do in his interrogation of you, this was not it.

So you nodded, and the tears that had been pooling in your eyes finally spilled down your cheeks. You hated crying in front of Azriel, or anyone really. But you were too tired to hold your tears back. Days in this cell, tortured without food or water… It was too much.

“Gods,” Azriel muttered, running a hand through his tousled locks. “When Rhysand told me he wanted to interrogate you himself, I didn’t expect…. this.”

You choked out a laugh. “Why does it matter to you anyways, Azriel? You were willing to send me to die on an impossible mission. My fate here is really no different.”

Azriel stiffened visibly, brows narrowing. “How did you–”

“Does it matter?” You interrupted bitterly, twisting your wrist around in the chain to try and relax the stiff muscles.

“You know if you want any shot of getting out of here, you’re going to have to tell the truth.” Azriel growled, his voice dropping. “You’ve been hiding things from me this entire time, and I’d like to know what. And why, starting with how you knew about the confidential mission to the continent before I even told you.”

You laughed again, a hollow, bitter sound echoing throughout the cell chamber. You were beyond caring at this point. No matter how you answered their questions, or if you answered them at all, there was no escaping the fact that telling the truth or not, you would not make it out of these dungeons. “You don't understand,” You retorted. “It doesn’t matter how I know. Telling you how will not change the fact that neither you nor Rhys will let me out of here anytime soon.”

The shadowsinger folded his arms, his cold gaze unblinking. “You do realise that if you want me to help, you’re going to have to be straight with me.”

It killed you that you couldn’t tell Azriel what was really going on. Some part of you yearned to, hoping that he’d finally get his head out of his High Lord’s ass. But you couldn’t shake how he just left you in here with Rhysand. Rhys apparently has his claws so deep in every member of the Inner Circle, it would take a lot more than a few months of training one on one with the spymaster for him to change.

“Please, just…” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you hung your head, ashamed. “Kill me. Get it over with.”

You heard him scoff. “I am not going to kill you.”

“You basically were by letting me be sent to die on the continent.”

“Damnit, (Y/N) I was trying to help you!” Azriel snapped, his tone rising.

You froze as you were lifting your head up. “What?”

Azriel rubbed his face with a scarred hand, leaning against one of the rocks that jutted out from the wall. He looked exasperated, the weariness on his face visible even in the dim lighting of the cell. “I was trying to find a way to get you out of the mission.” He said. “I told Rhys it would take months, years even to get you ready for that level of assignment. He did not listen. I spent those four weeks trying to find a way for you to escape, to get out of here.”

Your mind reeled from more than just exhaustion. Azriel had been trying to help you this whole time? He may not be brave enough to put his foot down to Rhysand, but had enough sense to try and get you out of this mess.

He continued. “I was trying to set up refuge for you, in a village far south on the continent. You’d have been safe there, if you laid low. I would have told Rhys that my spies reported you were killed.”

“Why?” You couldn’t help but ask. “Why lie to him for me? He’s your high lord.”

“Yes. And he always will be. But that does not mean I am not allowed to have my opinions on the way he handles some matters. It is unfair to drag someone into this line of work who does not want it, and it is even more unfair to send them on assignments they are not ready for.”

You chose your next words carefully. “You know why he did it, right?”

Azriel only stared at you, saying nothing.

“He wants me dead,” You whispered. “He wants me dead and you know it. That’s why he arranged the mission-”

“No,” Azriel cut you off, his voice sharp. “He was desperate for another spy, and could not send me. Braillyn would have expected that. You were the best one for the job, because they don’t know you. He just didn’t understand that you weren’t ready.”

You shook your head, heart sinking at Azriel’s denial. He wasn’t stupid, some part of him had to know the truth – that Rhysand wanted you dead because your defiance of him could cause unrest, even more so if you were plotting against him. Which you were. The first big step had been a success, getting Nesta out of the Night Court in a way that, by the law, prevented them from coming after her.

There was much more you had in store for the Inner Circle, but only time would tell if you would be able to pull it off. None of which would happen if you did not escape this cell.

“That’s not true, Azriel.” You said. “I wish you would see it. He knew I wasn’t ready, but if I died then he wouldn’t have to worry about me anymore. But if I somehow survived then he’d get the intel he wanted.”

The spymaster’s glare hardened. You shrank back slightly as he propped himself upright once again and stalked towards you. Large wings flared slightly, a menacing sight as he asked you firmly, “I will ask you this one more time. How did you find out about the mission?”

You didn’t answer, wondering if he was going to try and carve answers out of you like Rhysand had. Azriel had likely done such a thing countless times, perhaps in this very cell. Your wounds were crusted over and raw, fae healing abilities diminished in the darkness of the prison.

“It was Eris, wasn’t it?” Azriel said after a few minutes, bitterness and disappointment lacing his voice. “That’s why he proposed to Nesta, and why she insisted on you coming with them. It was part of a plan, wasn’t it? A plan for you and Nesta to escape.”

You did not bother confirming nor denying it, any defiance you had long ago wilted. Half your body had gone numb, and the other half ached beyond belief. You could feel yourself slipping further and further away, a discouragingly slow descent towards death. It was almost worse than the torture itself, being so close to death’s arms embracing you and carrying you to freedom, yet not quite there yet.

“Why?” Azriel asked sternly, taking your silence as an answer in and of itself. “Why would you want so badly to leave? To take Nesta away from her family?”

Bitterness coursed through you, igniting a fire in your voice. “If that is truly how you see it then you won’t even try to understand.” You hissed at him.

Azriel perched himself atop one of the rocks in the corner, those massive wings folding in. He shrugged, arms folded. “Humour me.” He challenged dryly.

These moments were crucial, you knew. It was your chance to either convince Azriel to help you, or to seal your fate and be locked in here forever. The choice weighed upon your already heavy shoulders like a rock. Rhysand would likely return soon and Azriel would disappear again, along with this one chance. And so you chose.

“Nesta will never be part of the Inner Circle, and you know it.” You said. “All you guys have done is try and muzzle her, control her, make her docile enough to sit quietly alongside you at the table but never truly be a part of everything.”

“We were trying to help her–” Azriel interrupted, but you quickly cut him off.

“By forcing her to train? Do something she never wanted? There are many ways to help someone, Azriel. This method may have worked for you and Cassian, but it is not for everyone. Nesta was hurting after the war, and all she received was judgement. You lot consume a bottle of wine every Friday night at Rita’s, but when Nesta does it, suddenly it’s a bad thing? You’ve all slept around, but when Nesta does it, she should be shamed? You have all held her to an impossible standard and refused to give her time to heal. But none of you ever cared about her healing, only how she made you look. You’ve done exactly to her what Tamlin did to your High Lady.”

You expected Azriel to argue, to fight back in defence of his found family. But he merely stared at you, eyes unreadable. You took it as a sign to continue.

“Nesta is drowning in the Night Court.” You said, locking eyes with the shadowsinger. “She will never be accepted here, and being a warrior is not what she wants. You are not stupid, Azriel. You know this. Feyre has found her new family, and that is fine. Let Nesta find her own. Please, just let her go.”

The eerie echoes throughout the cell were the only sound for the next few minutes. Your gut churned at Azriel’s reaction to your rant. He had said nothing, made no defence nor an agreement. That was almost more nerve-wracking to you.

“You see much of yourself in Nesta, do you not?” Azriel finally spoke, unfolding his arms. “That’s why you resorted to involving Eris to help get Nesta out. You have known him for as long as you’ve known his little brother, so you went to him for aid, did you not?”

“Yes.” You muttered. You didn’t have it in you to deny anything anymore. With what you had already admitted, Azriel would figure everything out on his own. You just hoped that Nesta had solidified her position in the Autumn Court quickly enough to prevent a war from breaking out.

“And he was at the meeting where Rhysand discussed sending you to the continent,” The spymaster continued, hazel eyes gleaming in the darkness. “So that’s how you knew. And you came up with the idea of marriage to get Nesta out, did you not?”

“Yes.”

“Here’s what I don’t understand,” Azriel stood up, once again looking down at your withered form. “That plan involved a clean way out for everyone except you. Why? Were you wanting to get sent to the continent to die?”

“It is because she loves Nesta.”

The arrogant voice of the High Lord filled the room, chilling your bones. Your entire body went stiff with panic, and even Azriel’s eyes widened as Rhysand appeared from behind you. Clearly, he hadn’t expected his brother back so soon.

The sound of footsteps and a dark presence was all your senses noted as you closed your eyes, feeling Rhysand walk around you to stand next to Azriel. You couldn’t bring yourself to open them, to look into the face that had sneered as tendrils of dark mist tortured you for hours.

“Good job, Az, you got her to talk!” Rhys clapped Azriel’s stiff shoulder, shock still evident on the spymaster’s face. “She said a hell of a lot more to you than she did to me. But I don’t recall ordering you to interrogate her. Unless my excellent memory is wrong, of course.”

Azriel straightened his spine, glaring at the High Lord. “You didn’t,” He said plainly. “But seeing the results of your last meeting with her and how little information you gathered, I believe it best you leave the rest of it to me.”

You finally opened your eyes, greeted by the practically feline smile of the High Lord. He bore a triumphant look on his face, one that made your body shake with nerves. Somehow, he had heard almost everything – Azriel’s shadows not even detecting his presence. Deep down, you knew that you were never getting out of here now.

“No.” Rhysand said. “You’ve done enough. You can carve her up all you want and nothing will make the magic mark appear, so I don’t need you for this next part. You are dismissed, Azriel.”

Unlike before, Azriel stood his ground. “No,” He growled. “As your spymaster, it is my job to be involved in these things. I am staying.”

Rhysand merely shrugged, showing no signs that he cared about his brother defying him. “Suit yourself. But you are not to intervene, do you understand?”

“Intervene with what?”

Rhysand hummed, taking a step towards you. You flinched as he brought his hand up, taking one of your tangled locks and pushing it behind your ear. An act so seemingly gentle, filling you with more fear than you had ever known.

“You look famished, darling.” He crooned, stroking your ice cold cheek. “If you show me the mark that allows you to communicate with Nesta, we can get you a nice hot plate of food and some water.”

With your mouth no longer dry, you gathered up as much saliva as you could manage and spat in the High Lord’s face. From the corner of your eye, you noticed Azriel’s jaw drop open slightly at the action, and you almost laughed.

But Rhysand only chuckled, wiping your spit off his face before standing back up to his full height. “I may not have been able to get into your head before,” He said. “But now that you are weakened, I will be able to break through your shields.”

Searing pain shot through your skull and you screamed. Those dark tendrils that had sliced your flesh before were now in your head, scraping down your shields like nails on a chalkboard. The pain was unlike anything you had experienced, the worst migraine of your life times a hundred.

Through the screaming, which you weren’t sure if it was in your head or out loud, you could hear Azriel’s muffled voice in the background. “Stop it, Rhys,” He was protesting. “You’ll kill her.”

Rhysand ignored him, continuing to try and force his way into your head. It felt like the entire force of the sea had come crashing down on your skull, pushing and pounding in every direction in search of a crack. Your entire body shook, the pain from your physical wounds nonexistent in comparison.

“This isn’t right.” Azriel was saying. “I will get her to talk, just stop this. She’ll never trust us if you keep doing this.”

“I don’t care about her trust.” You heard Rhysand say, his voice both in your head and echoing throughout the room. “Once I get into her head and get what I need, she will be of no more use to us. Then she’ll be your problem.”

The sensation of white hot needles pricking into your head took over, and you let out a wail. It was a thousand times worse than before, especially in your starved state.

Please, You begged the Mother, or any gods out there. Please kill me. Grant me this mercy and end it.

Amidst the pain and your screams, a warm sensation brushed your shoulder, like someone’s hand was grasping it in reassurance. You can do this. It seemed to say, in a voice so familiar yet like nothing you had ever heard before.

“What are you saying?” Azriel growled.

The High Lord’s next sentence was all you heard before darkness overtook your vision. “When I am done, I need you to kill her, Azriel.”

NESTA POV

The smell of a freshly made breakfast sandwich and tea roused Nesta from her sleep. As her eyes crept open to meet the golden glow of the sunrise, she became rapidly aware of the presence lounging beside her. Nesta’s vision focused after a few blinks, a male with red hair coming into focus.

Instantly, she shot up, wincing as the pounding headache she apparently woke up with protested. “What the fuck, Eris?” She practically yelled, bunching up the bedsheets to cover her nightgown.

“Ah, finally you’re awake!” The prince said casually, as if he was not laying next to her sleeping form with his head propped up against the bed frame. “Half the day has gone by already while you slept.”

“It’s sunrise, asshole.” Nesta hissed furiously, wishing she had a dagger nearby to stab him with. “Were you watching me sleep?”

“Exactly,” Eris quipped, turning to the next page in the book that he was currently reading. “And no, watching you sleep is rather boring. Especially when you snore. Besides, this novel is way more interesting.”

Growling, Nesta snatched the book from him after noting it was a smutty romance one she had snuck from the library and was currently reading. Eris smirked knowingly, making Nesta’s cheeks burn. “I did not take you for a romance novel type of female,” He purred, arrogantly reaching up his arm to rest behind his head. “Especially ones with such erotica.”

Nesta gave him a hard shove, unbalancing him. “Get. The. Fuck. Out.”

Eris chuckled, raising his hands in mock defenselessness. “But I brought you breakfast! Am I really not allowed to bring my loving fiancé breakfast in bed?”

She shot daggers at him with her eyes. “Your loving fiancé is going to murder you before the wedding if you don’t get out within the next fifteen seconds.”

Eris sighed in defeat. “I do not know what I did to deserve this type of treatment from my future wife.” He muttered in obvious sarcastic pity, but climbing off the bed nonetheless. Nesta crossed her arms over her chest, cursing inwardly at the headache that plagued her. If she had better control of her magic, she’d send a stream of silver fire after Eris’ ass on his way out.

It had been one week since the dinner with Beron where she was granted one month to train her powers, and every day had been the same routine. Get woken up before the sun has even risen, ride Diadoro and Calypso to a remote clearing in the forest about an hour away, try over and over again to follow Eris’ instructions only for either nothing to happen or absolute catastrophe. The day usually ended in an argument, either about training, Eris’ progress in finding you, or where he was on his plan to dispose of his father. And then followed by a very silent ride back to the manor.

“Meet me by the lake in 10 minutes.” Eris called out as he shut the door, leaving Nesta to eat the breakfast laid across the tray. She groaned, rubbing her eyes and wishing for just an hour of rest.

Sleep hadn’t been coming easily lately. Every night was the same dream – Nesta running around a dark maze with walls of stone, trying to get to you. She could hear your screams as if they were real, echoing throughout her head whenever she was left alone with her own thoughts. Eris insisted he was doing everything he could to find you, but the more time passed the more worried she got. Every day Nesta woke up, she was plagued by the aching in her chest.

In record time, she managed to consume half of her breakfast and get herself dressed. The outfits Eris had always prepared for her were admittedly perfect, and today was no different. A forest green gown with gold buttons up the front, and a subtle dark pink trim. Nesta had no idea where Eris was pulling these gowns from, but she didn’t complain as she slipped on the comfortable material.

Eris was waiting with Calypso and Diadoro, the creatures tacked up and ready to go. Calypso was pawing at the ground impatiently, as if she had been waiting a while.

“At last she graces us with her presence.” Eris called out as Nesta approached hurriedly. It had taken her an extra few minutes to get ready, as her hair did not cooperate in its usual cornet. For the first time in Autumn, Nesta had simply pulled her golden brown locks back into a simple braid before hurrying out the door.

“You said ten minutes, I took fifteen, get over it.” She snapped, taking Diadoro’s reins from Eris’ outstretched hand. “Besides, I needed a few minutes to recover from the fright of looking at your face the first thing waking up.”

Eris chuckled. “A sight to look forward to after our wedding day, my dear.”

Nesta rolled her eyes, climbing into the saddle as Eris held the stirrup in place for her. He had insisted Nesta get used to riding, something she had protested at first. But admittedly, it was fun, not that she’d ever admit that in front of Eris. As the Prince got on Calypso’s back, the pair and their horses headed off through the path they had taken every day for the last week.

It was a scenic route, the Autumn hues throughout the forest bringing Nesta a sense of calm that she had never quite found at the Night Court. She was no longer always cold, bones chilled by the crisp night air that seemed to somehow be present during the day, even though none of the Inner Circle seemed to feel it. She only wished she could share this stroll with you.

After about twenty minutes of riding, Nesta decided to change things up and break the usual silence that they rode in. “Where are you with your search for her?” She said quietly.

“Well, my spies are convinced she is still somewhere in the Night Court.” Eris responded cautiously, his voice flat.

“So why can’t we go back and get her?” Nesta pressed as they continued to ride through the trees.

“Many, many reasons,” Eris said in a matter-of-fact voice. “Firstly, you know that the High Lord and the brute would snatch you up immediately. You would never get out after that. Secondly, neither of us knows the terrain. The Night Court is large, and she could be anywhere. It is not easy to pinpoint exactly where she is out of the dozens of places she could be.”

“Eris, every night I have the same dream. I’m running through an underground maze of stone, with walls of black rock. And I hear her voice. And you’re saying this doesn’t help at all?”

The Autumn princeling sighed, halting the horses. “Correct. Because the Night Court has hundreds of mountains, all of which could be harbouring some underground dungeon. So no, it doesn’t help.”

Deep down, Nesta knew he was right. She tangled her fingers in Diadoro’s mane to soothe the sea of worry churning within her. “Why did we stop?” She asked after a few moments.

Eris turned to face her, his eyes serious for once. “Nesta, I know how badly you want to find her. I do too. But with how well hidden and warded the Night Court is, not to mention remoteness, it is like trying to find a needle in a haystack. And if the magic from your bond can’t reach her, I’m afraid I’ve done everything I can.”

“No.” Nesta refused to believe it. You had been her anchor to this earth for months, her reason for keeping her chin up and moving through the relentless stormy sea it seemed she was destined to wade through.

Eris’ voice was gentle. “Nesta, you are immortal now. You have a long life ahead of you. Clinging onto this will only hold you back.”

“Easy for you to say,” Nesta shot back, not caring how deep her words cut. “You don’t care about anyone. Must be no problem for you to just drop people once you’ve gotten what you want.”

For the first time since she had known him, Eris’ face fell slightly. Regret washed over Nesta immediately at the hurt flickering in his amber eyes. Insults were part of Nesta and Eris’ routine now, but this…. She knew she had gone too far.

“Do you truly think so little of me?” Eris asked, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. There was no trace of the arrogant prince she had grown used to.

“I just…” Her voice trailed off. “I don’t know what to think anymore. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.”

“I know. And I’m doing my best to get things back on track, but it’s proving almost impossible.”

Nesta swallowed the familiar lump in her throat that indicated tears were going to begin welling up soon. “I know.” She said before coughing and regaining her composure. “Anywho, you were the one insisting we were late. Let’s get going.”

Before she could move Diadoro forward, Eris turned Calypso to the right and headed off the path. “We’re doing something else today,” He called out. “Follow me.”

Nesta didn’t have to do anything, as Diadoro was already following the white horse off the path, expertly stepping over roots and branches in his way. “Where are we going?” She demanded.

“It’s a surprise.”

“Tell me.”

“That would ruin the surprise.”

“I don’t care.”

“I do. Keep moving.”

Nesta huffed, but didn’t protest. She had never been on this route before, and the further they got the rockier it was. Trees grew sparser, and the soil became harder. The journey reminded Nesta of something from one of the fantasy books in the library at the House of Wind, and with a pang she thought about Gwyn and Emerie.

She wondered how her disappearance had been explained. Most likely, they had been told that Nesta was kidnapped by Eris or something. Nesta missed them terribly – Emerie’s snorting laughter, the way Gwyn’s eyes would light up as she explained something in her research, how they both took an instant liking to you.

“Eris?” Nesta asked about thirty minutes into their trek.

“Yes, my fearsome goddess?” Eris singsonged over his shoulder in response.

“Can I bring my two friends to Autumn?”

“I did not realise you had friends other than (Y/N) in the Night Court.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, I do. I met them at my training, and…” Her voice trailed off, unsure of how to phrase it without seeming weak. Nesta had never needed anyone before, but the lack of Gwyn and Emerie’s presence in her life lately was beginning to weigh on her.

“You miss them.” Eris finished her sentence for her. “Once I am High Lord, we can invite them to come here.”

“For a visit?”

He shrugged. “Or to stay permanently, if that is what they wish.”

Nesta’s heart fluttered with excitement at the idea. She knew Gwyn would love it here certainly, once she got used to it. Emerie too, who would be relieved at being miles away from her vile family. “I’ll hold you to that, Eris.” She said sternly.

“Consider it one of the many wedding gifts I shall spoil you with.”

Nearly two hours later, Eris finally halted Calypso and got off. It was the longest ride Nesta had been on thus far, and her inner thighs ached. Luckily, the prince was already reaching up to grab her waist, lifting her out of the saddle with an impressive amount of strength.

“Thanks.” She mumbled, cheeks red with embarrassment before asking, “Where are we?”

There was nothing notable in her surroundings, save for a rocky cliff that loomed above them a few metres ahead. Calypso and Diadoro had pressed their noses to the ground in search of grass amidst the sparsity.

“All will be revealed.” Eris winked, then extended his hand. He glanced up at the cliff, and Nesta crossed her arms.

“I am not scaling that cliff.” She said sternly, causing Eris to chuckle.

“I would not make you, certainly in those skirts,” He said. “We’re winnowing up there.”

“You know I hate winnowing.”

“Fine, if you’d like to climb it then I’ll see you in a few hours–”

Nesta quickly grabbed Eris’ hand, cutting him off. It tingled against her own, like electricity in her veins was jumping out to meet his own. She ignored his smirk as the world went askew and the ground fell away underneath her feet.

A split second later, they stood atop the cliff. The wind immediately whipped across Nesta’s cheeks, but it was not cold. Oddly enough, it was warmer up here, like the very rocks they stood on were heated. The colourful forest spanned across the horizon, bright with the now late morning sun. Nesta’s braid whipped in the wind, coming undone within seconds.

“I’ve been keeping this from my father,” Eris said, turning away from the edge of the cliff and walking away, leaving Nesta to follow. “A secret weapon, if you will.”

Nesta hurried to catch up, her long strides matching his own. “A weapon to kill him with? Up here?”

Eris chuckled, shaking his head. “No, between you and me we are perfectly capable of doing it ourselves. This weapon will help solidify me as the High Lord and prevent other courts from going to war with us. And I think it will help you with your magic.”

Nesta halted, dread forming in her stomach as she thought of the last few magical weapons she encountered. The mask, that took away everything she felt and made her raise an army of the dead. The Cauldron, that stole her humanity away from her and turned her into a creature she had grown up learning to hate and fear. The thought of something else like that made her knees go weak.

“It’s nothing like the Cauldron, I swear to you.” Eris said calmly, as if reading her thoughts. “Come, I promise it’s something entirely different.”

After a second of hesitation, Nesta resumed following Eris. They walked further and further, approaching a large mountain with a cave entrance that was bigger than anything she had ever seen.

“Are we seriously going down there?” Nesta gaped. The closer she got, the warmer the air was. It sang to the silver flames within her, and she felt them dance.

“Yes.” Eris said, igniting a flame in his hand in place of a torch before entering the darkness. Not wanting to lose the light and be stranded in the dark, Nesta followed. They walked down the large cavern, and the further they went the more her power begged to be let out.

“You can feel it, can’t you?” Eris asked, pausing at the bottom of the slope they had just crawled down. “Like calls to like, Nesta.”

Eris’ flame didn’t illuminate much, but by the way their footsteps echoed, Nesta could tell whatever chamber they were in was large enough for a small city. “What is this place?” She asked.

As usual, Eris continued his lecture and neglected to answer her question. “You fear your power too much, Nesta, because you haven’t seen anything like it. You are letting your fear control you, and you need confidence if you are to wield your powers in a manner that impresses my father. There are many fire-wielders in this world, Nesta Archeron. Yours may be different, but you can learn from others. And not just me.”

Nesta took in a sharp breath, the taste of smoke and ash on her tongue. “This secret weapon…” She said slowly. “It’s not a ‘what’.... it’s a ‘who’.”

Eris nodded, his pale face a striking gold in the light of the flames. “Do not be afraid.”

Before she could ask what he meant, a low but fierce growl vibrated throughout the chasm. It quaked her bones, and the floor began to tremble with what felt like the footsteps of a large creature. And then another, and another.

Nesta trembled as they grew louder, but refused to shrink back. She would not be a coward, not in front of Eris, even as whatever weapons Eris had approached them. The prince stepped forward, lifting up his flaming hand and illuminating the dark space a bit more to reveal not one, but three massive, scaling heads.

The heads of dragons.

The one in the middle had onyx scales, barely visible within the darkness. Its head was only illuminated by its glowing amber eyes. The one on the right was almost as big, but it had golden scales and larger horns on its head. And the one on the left crawled opposite from Nesta, a shining shade of silver with a longer neck. Each beast exuded sheer power and might, the space in the enormous cavern almost too small for their bodies.

Time seemed to slow down and stop as the three dragons approached, the orange glow from their mouths and bellies lighting the chasm. They were a thousand times bigger than a horse, almost the size of an entire palace.Nesta gawked, and her magic began to thrum excitedly at the beasts. Realistically, her instincts should have screamed at her to run before she was burned to ash, but she felt none. No, Nesta was rooted to the stone in fascination and awe.

Eris approached the black dragon, who lowered its head and growled. For a second, Nesta thought it would simply devour Eris whole. But instead, it let out a crooning noise and pushed its nose into Eris’ flaming palm. He began murmuring to the dragon in a language Nesta didn’t recognize, and the beast purred in response.

Her fixation on Eris with the dragon was broken by a low growl, and she flinched as the silver dragon snaked its head towards her.

“Summon a flame.” Eris instructed, still stroking the snout of the black dragon, despite its head being twenty times his size.

“What?” Nesta said, still frozen in place as the dragon crept towards her.

“Just do it.”

She raised a shaky hand, taking a deep breath. She tried not to think about the size of the dragon’s teeth approaching her as she reached down and grabbed a hold of a silver tendril of her power.

Yes please! It seemed to cry. Let me out to play. Let me make new friends.

Just as Eris had taught her, a ball of silver fire began to dance in the palm of Nesta’s hand. The dragon paused, lowering its head even further towards her hand. Nesta tensed up, but her flames had other plans – they flickered in the direction of the dragon, almost as if they were excited to greet it.

The silver beast made a low rumbling noise in response, and pressed its nose into Nesta’s hand, just as the black dragon did with Eris. She gasped, expecting her flames to burn the creature’s nose and cause a wake of destruction, yet it did not flinch from her fire. Its eyes met Nesta’s, and she felt as if her very soul was being gazed into, as if the dragon could see every raw, vulnerable part of her. The scales were smooth against Nesta’s slightly shaky hand, hotter than the warmest coals yet they did not burn her. Her flames danced along the scales, exploring the dips and horns of the dragons’ head. But it did not seem to mind, only continuing to gaze into Nesta’s eyes.

For a moment, she was overcome with emotion. The sensation of touching a creature so mighty, so powerful, one that she thought only existed in the stories she read. But then she, too, was now a creature that existed in storybooks. One that was admired for its beauty yet feared for its power, much like the very beast before her. It looked at her with such understanding, such intensity Nesta felt like she could both crumble on the spot and conquer the world at the same time.

“Her name is Athariel,” Eris’ voice broke her out of her trance. “I figured you’d like her. The one with me is Morgoth, and the golden one is Zorzimril.”

“I…” Nesta swallowed her emotion, tentatively stroking the dragon’s scales. It made a purring sound, the silver flames dancing around it excitedly.

“I found their eggs here just over a century ago.” Eris explained, his voice echoing in the chamber. “I thought they were rocks. There were rumours of dragons existing at the beginning of the world, but the last rumour comes from the wild hunt. No proof of them existed, until I found the eggs. No amount of research helped me figure out how to un-petrify them, until I felt them call to me. I used my magic and lit the hottest fire I could manage, placing the eggs inside them. A few hours later, they hatched. I’ve been raising them in secret for almost 150 years, training them. They are my secret weapon.”

“Like calls to like…” Nesta murmured, observing how her silver flames played with the dragon, who remained unscathed.

Eris smirked, patting Morgoth on the cheek. “Exactly. I have bonded with Morgoth, and I figured you and Athariel would be a good match. You can learn a lot from her, and she can help you conquer your fear. From everything I’ve learned over the past century, they’re loyal beasts. If you bond with her, she will defend you fiercer than anyone in this realm.”

The thought of this powerful creature looking out for Nesta made her overwhelmed with emotion. Maybe they were both seen as monsters by the rest of the world, but they could face it together, if Athariel let her. Nesta thought back to all the times she felt true fear – at the Hewn City, Illyria, the battlefield, there was no trace of that now. Somehow, she felt safer with this dragon than she had in the Night Court.

Nesta glanced at Zorzimril, the golden beast. “What about her?”

Eris sighed, resting his shoulder against Morgoth’s head. “I had hoped that with (Y/N) here, she would bond with her. It seems like fate, does it not, Nesta Archeron? Three of us, three dragons. I am not particularly religious, but it seems the Mother has set this out for us. Zorzimril is the reason I still have hope that we will find (Y/N).”

taglist (comment if you want to be added): @queercontrarian @kitkat-writes-stuff @moonfawnx @sevikas-whore @weird-and-wise @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet @kingshitonly @ladyofcherries @eerievixen @readingwritingwatching @peacecoffeeandflowers @a-frog-with-a-laptop @shadowqueen25 @lana08 @highladyofillyria @rachelnicolee @ladespedidas @little-darlingo @manonblackbeakquidditchteam13 @demirunner @terorovaerangi @hauntedandhopeful  @younxii @microwaveallthedemons @fanfictioniseverything @lovra974 @maddietheshoe @peaceandcrackers @emy1-9 @lostinfantasyworldsbi @issybee0611 @thoughtfulshepherdmongerkid @belledawnidk @whhyyynottt @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @littlebbb @piceous21 @sevendeadlyshins-blog @searchingford  @marigold-morelli @thesapphiclibrarian @

[thoraeth]

A/N: 850 words, gn!reader. You're the personal assistant of the weirdest punk band in the Grand Line and today you're having a breakdown. Unfortunately, Buggy has no intentions of leaving you alone.

[One Piece punk band AU/ modern AU]

Cut out for the job

The door slams closed. You kick your sneakers away, enjoying the silence of your hotel room.

You haven't been able to catch your breath all day: Mr. Trafalgar called at 6 am because Ace was held at the police station; third time this month. Then it was Barto's turn. He needed your opinion on a nice gift for his nana, but kept arguing that your ideas were stupid. Franky gave you a migraine, shouting left and right during the band's weekly meeting and Buggy…oh, Buggy. He was insufferable these days: snappy, needy, tense, constantly asking you to fetch him stuff, to take him places.

You’re starting to feel like you’re never enough, drowning in this chaotic routine.

You can almost hear your mother's voice in your head: “Are you really throwing your life away to follow a band of idiots?!” Well, in your defense, being a band’s personal assistant was supposed to be fun. But now? Here you are, tired, sad and underpaid, living in yet another horrible hotel room. Maybe you're not cut out for this job.

Your phone glows up, a text from Buggy. “It's 11 pm for fuck's sake!” you shout, throwing the buzzing device on the sofa.

Buggy has been doing it for weeks: every night he sends you tons of messages for the most trivial stuff. He’s lost his mascara, bought ten pairs of shoes, whines about his paycheck. A bratty, pushy attitude he’s never had before.

In fact, the two of you used to have the most interesting conversations and a special chemistry that made you feel some type of way more than once. Like that night, backstage. The glances, the gentle touching while you helped him getting dressed…you can still feel the goosebumps on your skin.

You pick up your phone, puffing at the crowd of notifications.

[Hey, you still up? Listen, face paint is running out, I’m thinking cherry 3.2 this time but I’m not sure if 1 or 2 cans.

Heyyyy are you ignoring me?? 👺😭 You sleeping already?]

[Oi Bug, can we discuss this tomorrow? It's way past my working hours.]

[...ok.]

[Rough day, I really need to unwind 🥲]

[ Wanna hang out? A little fun will make you feel better.]

[ Thanks but I’m done with work, see you tomorrow!]

[seen 00:15 AM]

[Buggy? You ok?]

[seen 00:50 AM]

“Shit. He's upset now.” You whisper, your eyes and mouth wide open “What if he gets me fired?”

You feel low-key furious: you shouldn't be punished for setting boundaries. If he’s playing the cocky boss during the day, you can play that game too and clock out at night. Screw him.

The sudden sound of the doorbell makes you jump out of your skin. “Hey it's me.” A familiar voice comes from outside the door, muffled.

Stomping to the peephole, you see Buggy. He’s nervously thinkering with his blue hair, pacing back and forth in the duck hoodie you got him for his birthday.

“Are you serious?” You ask, opening up.

“I know, I’m sorry. Just five minutes and I'll be gone.”

Buggy's not wearing his piercings and face paint; he looks serious, a bit scared. His ice blue eyes stare at you in silence and all your anger seems to melt away as he sits on the sofa.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Am I fired…?”

“What? No!” He shrieks, outraged. “Just sit, please.”

The second you're next to him, Buggy focuses on his boots, hands twitching on his knees.

“I-I know I've been a bit of an asshole lately.” He stutters. “I drove you crazy asking tons of stuff and…”

“You’re being a pain in the ass. Yes.”

“I’m sorry. I was just trying to spend more time with you but I messed up.” Buggy side-eyes you, his face red and flustered.

“I think I like you. A lot.”

Those words make your heart race so fast you can barely breathe.

He continues: “I tried to write to you, but every time… I couldn't say it the way I wanted.”

“Is that why you kept texting me for hours every night?!” you snap, breaking your silence.

Buggy jumps back in his seat “I didn't realize I was bothering you! I've always enjoyed our silly chats. But I'll stop, I got it now. We're just colleagues.”

You burst out laughing. Buggy leans towards you, shouting things you can't hear over the joy exploding in your chest.

He's about to get up, distraught, when you reach for his neck and pull him towards you, pressing your lips on his. Still a bit surprised, Buggy melts into your kiss, holding you so tight it almost hurts.

“For a second I thought I didn't want this job anymore.” You chuckle in between kisses.

“I’ll ask Trafalgar to give you a raise, then.”

“He's gonna fire us both when he knows about this.”

You dive your back into the sofa, pressed under Buggy’s weight. As he kisses and laughs into your neck, you remember why you decided to follow this band of idiots in the first place: there’s no other place in the world where you’ve felt more alive.

[j0kers-light]

His Lighthouse: Mind Games (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

Mind Games

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:

The mind is a dangerous weapon, you should know this firsthand. Surely this all can't be real? But if so.. then who's lying? And who's telling the truth?

author's note:

Its been far too long loves! I'm back with a new update and boy is this one a doozy! Forget everything you thought happened last chapter and just read from the top! Things will slowly start to make sense or trick you. I hope you enjoy either way! I had a song selected for this chapter but in the end, it didn't fit the overall mood. Maybe next time.

taglist:

@blackreaderatrisk @twinkledinkle @clemdango04 @l3ejm @tears-of-amber @what-an-angel @darthjokerisyourfather @thatsnoteii @dollster  @cheetahspy @kaidennnnn @urdariingdoll @motivation-idontknowher @ins0mniac-whack

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

Last Chapter | Next Chapter

When did your mind start playing tricks on you? Did you hallucinate the entire conversation or just bits and pieces? When did it all go horribly wrong?

Your head was pounding and you didn't remember a thing after Bruce stepped closer to you.

When your back hit the balcony railing, it set off a trigger that made you instantly disassociate. You didn't hear Bruce's smooth voice after that as it was replaced with another from your past— one that you tried so hard to forget. It was sickly sweet and made you feel dirty inside and out.

Words and phrases were twisted around until you didn't know what to believe anymore. The background changed from your rooftop balcony to that damp and dark alleyway and that's when you knew nothing beyond this point was real.

Deep down you knew Bruce would never be this cruel but you couldn't be too sure. He was a gentleman... this wasn't real, but your mind made it seem very realistic.

Your memories from that night were back and you couldn't bear to relive it again.

'It's not real.' You repeated over and over as your mind spiraled out of control.

Bruce noticed you were shivering and covered your shoulders with a heavy blanket. He sighed when you tensed up and wrapped the fabric around yourself like a shield. You were so jumpy lately, it really had him concerned.

He didn't understand why you were so distant towards him. Bruce could be the bigger person here and ask why despite the awkward tension festering between the two of you.

"How do I say this? You've been distant lately. Especially to me." He said. He wasn't expecting your timid voice to respond so quickly.

"Uh.. yeah? I hope so since I broke things off with you and if you haven't noticed over dinner— I've moved on. You're the one that keeps being nice and trying to get along with my parents.."

Bruce strained to hear what else you said under your breath but he caught your eyes blinking a mile a minute. That was unusual.

"Y/n, are you alright?" He asked.

"Yeah." You said without missing a beat.

He frowned and stepped closer, causing you to back away and hit the balcony railing with your hip. You slurred more of your words together.

"Are you sure? You look unwell, Y/n. Perhaps we should get you inside."

You were mumbling under your breath but Bruce couldn't hear a word. He knew something was wrong when you held your head and started hyperventilating. Then it hit him. You were having a panic attack.

His Batman instincts immediately kicked in.

"Breathe in and out, Y/n. Whatever it is, it's not real. Can you hear me? Y/n?" You avoided his touch but Bruce was persistent in trying to calm you down.

"Whatever is hurting you Y/n, please let me inand—"

Bruce never heard a scream as blood curdling as yours.

It's like he said the magic words and triggered old memories, for you immediately began fighting his hold, kicking and screaming with all your might. Bruce was a strong individual, with or without the bat suit, but he struggled trying to keep you still. You were too close to the balcony ledge for his liking so he corralled you back towards the apartment to keep you safe.

Everyone in the penthouse heard your horrified scream and woke up out of their slumber to investigate.

Your mom and dad were unfortunately veterans to this and knew exactly what was going on so they rushed straight to the scene.

Barbara, Morgana, and Dick however stumbled out of their rooms and followed the commotion out onto the balcony, not truly understanding what was going on in.

They all arrived to witness you screaming at the top of your lungs and clawing at Bruce's arms like a feral cat. He was trying to calm you down but the scene looked rather odd without any context.

Your parents would walk in while the two of you were in a suggestive position.

Bruce did a double take at the shocked audience and shouted, "Don't just stand there, help me!" You resorted to biting him and he almost lost his grip on you again if not for his leg pinning you down.

Your mother panicked seeing you in a fit of hysterics and she couldn't blame you. You were being manhandled during such a delicate situation.

"Let go of her!" She rushed to Bruce's side and snatched you out of his hold.

The second you felt a female presence, you stopped fighting back but continued to cry uncontrollably.

Your father slid to your side but kept his distance as to not set you off again. He felt useless not being able to help in your time of need yet your mother quickly stepped up to the plate in his stead.

"It's okay sweetheart. It's over, it's over. He's gone. You're safe now. It's all over." Your mother shushed in your ear. She rocked you like a baby as you choked back tears.

"P-Please stop! It hurts!" You wailed. Your mother blinked back her own tears while rubbing your back in big comforting circles. Your father met her gaze as they held a private conversation.

It's happening again.

"It's not real, Y/n. You're safe now." Mom glanced at Bruce's bloody arms and winced. "Babe, can you go find the first aid kit for Bruce?" She whispered to your dad so you wouldn't hear.

Everyone's eyes focused on the angry red claw marks your nails left on Bruce. Just what happened here? Your father grimaced at the bite mark but stood up to make himself useful.

You pleaded again, trapped in a distant memory and Morgana choked back a sob hearing her friend in so much pain.

It was too much to witness and she turned away to cry. Dick stood off to the side, oddly quiet, but concerned for his sister. Everyone was.

Barbara couldn't stand the silence and cried out, "What happened Bruce?"

Multiple curious eyes watched the billionaire rub the back of his head. Your father came back with the first aid kit and started accessing the damage you left. "She's still a fighter (mother's name). I bet these hurt like a mf, lemme see." 

Bruce had suffered worse injuries but your nails were rather sharp so he let your father dab alcohol on each scratch to flush out the blood. Bruce had yet to answer the question on everyone's mind.

Your mother looked Bruce dead in the eye and arched an eyebrow. He thought he was gonna get the scolding of a lifetime at the intense e/c staring him down.

He started from the top and explained.

"I genuinely do not know. It's chilly out so I came to offer Y/n a blanket. I tried striking up a conversation about what happened over dinner but she started blinking excessively and clutching her head as if she had a headache. Her back hit the railing and I think she began to have a panic attack. When I tried to calm her down, she became combative."

You whimpered in your mother's arms as you finally fell asleep. She sighed in relief and swapped places with your dad.

She knew he felt useless and he gladly held you close now that you were unconscious and unaware of a male's touch. Your mom waved Bruce over and set about applying Neosporin to his scratches.

They were rather deep but they would heal in a few days time. He declined bandaids and she snapped the first aid kit closed and spoke.

"Don't blame yourself for this. Y/n had a very stressful day and her mind isn't functioning properly because of it."

"That doesn't explain what happened? Is Y/n okay?!" Morgana returned to the conversation with tear tracks still visible on her face.

She never seen you so distraught before. It was like a completely different person possessed your body just then. What kind of friend was she to not notice how much pain you were hiding? She wasn't any better than Florence.

Barbara was thinking the exact same thing. You needed solid friends right now and she was the worst one imaginable.

Your mother took a look around and sighed at the somber air on the balcony. She was emotionally drained after consoling you and it appeared that everyone else was drained as well.

"I think it's time to address the elephant in the room." She sighed. Your father shared a look with his wife. "You think Y/n will like that?"

Mom rolled her neck and snapped.

"D__n it, (father's name)! These are her friends! This episode clearly shows she's been suffering alone! They can help if they know what's going on! She can't keep bottling this up forever; it's killing her. Do you like seeing her like this? Reliving that night every time she's touched the wrong way or backed into a corner?"

Your father bit out his reply. "Of course I don't! But when Y/n wakes up and sees everyone eyeing her in pity, she'll recluse herself again. It's why she moved in the first place. Not everybody heals the way y'all doctors assume people should!"

Dick sighed and stepped in between the feuding couple. This could go on all night if someone didn't stop them.

They both eyed Dick, wondering what the charismatic boy was fixing to say.

"Unofficial, but official, adopted parents please. Go get Y/n situated then meet us back in the living room." Dick didn't wait for them to respond, he just asked Morgana and Bruce to follow him inside as he helped Barbara's wheelchair get over the balcony's sliding door hump.

Your parents didn't dispute his request. They got you settled in bed before coming back out into the living room with no further arguments.

Your friends were gathered around your living room in various stages of alertness. Dick handed out drinks to go with the sweets Barbara baked earlier.

After being woken up so abruptly, sugar was vital to stay awake.

Exhaustion was all around but this was an important meeting that was about to transpire. Not a second could be missed.

Your dad sat down with a sigh and pulled your mother into his lap.

They finally looked their age as they gathered their thoughts to begin. The air in the room was heavy for the next hour and a half as they explained everything to your closest friends.

What they had to say was absolutely horrifying.

"You sure you'll be alright dear?" Your mother asked.

She stood in the foyer as Dick and her husband loaded the car downstairs with leftovers early Friday morning.

The morning came with hushed trepidation but the crew was forced to eat breakfast without you.

You had slept on through the night without any other episodes and your mother didn't anticipate for you to wake up until late this afternoon.

Her and your father had to head back to Blüdhaven and Dick offered to drive them so they didn't have to catch a train. Bruce had to head into the office for board meetings and after apologizing to your parents, (your mother assured the billionaire that this wasn't his fault) he left with the promise that he would check on you later today.

Barbara wanted to stick around but she had to return to work herself which left Morgana volunteering to stay at your penthouse to take care of you.

The perks of being your own boss, she joked. 'You make your own hours.'

Morgana smiled at your mother and nodded.

"Yes ma'am, I'll be alright. Dick showed me around so I got a feel of the place. Leftovers are in the fridge so if she wakes up, I'll make sure she eats and provide her lots of emotional support. You told me what to do if she... that happens again." Morgana scratched her cheek, still processing all that was discussed last night. Or rather this morning.

Bruce, Barbara, Dick, and Morgana saw you in a new light after your parents revealed your dark past and they each swore not to cast a shred of pity on you.

You needed them more than you let on.

Barbara and Morgana were beside themselves hearing about your past and they felt awful for almost ruining a friendship over a silly rumor Florence hatched up. That was the least of their concerns right now. Getting you back in high spirits was the only priority.

Morgana called her employees and asked them to deliver a crate of assorted flowers to your apartment building.

You loved her creations so she would surprise you with a giant bouquet for your apartment. It was a tiny gesture in the grand scheme of things but Morgana was willing to do anything to make you happy after last night.

Flowers could liven up the place and ward off bad spirits. She made a mental note to water your sunroom plants while she was here.

"Well dear, you have my number if you need me." Your mother hugged Morgana right as Dick came through the door saying they were ready to go. "You take good care of my baby! We'll be back in a few more weeks." She said.

"Call me if you have a question, Morgana!" Dick offered to the florist.

Morgana waved them both off and closed the door after more pleasantries were exchanged.

Your parents were super cool. Morgana was lucky to have met them even despite the terrible circumstances. She sighed to herself and thought aloud. "What a day.. and it just started."

She had the place to herself until you woke up so she went about accessing the state of your household plants.

They looked a little worse for wear and could stand a special treatment.

The day trickled on and Morgana spent the majority of it working on the lush floral display her employees dropped off at your place. She twisted exotic and local flowers into a gorgeous statement piece but something was missing.

Morgana was wracking her head around exactly what when she swore she heard your bedroom door close.

"Y/n?"

She looked towards the hallway but didn't see anything. A glance at the clock set the day around one in the afternoon.

Your mother was right about you sleeping in. It meant this happened numerous times in the past for her to have a predetermined schedule.

Morgana shivered. How long have you suffered like this?

She saw a blanket-clad figure float down the hallway and set a pink rose down to follow you.

"Y/n are you..." You slammed the door shut right in her face.

Morgana stuttered in shock but pushed it back open only to watch you crawl under the covers. This was so unlike you. "Y/n are you hungry?" She asked hesitantly.

You shifted under the covers away from Morgana's gentle voice.

Your mom warned her that you'd be antisocial for the next twenty-four hours but urged the florist to get some food and water in you. You lost a lot of fluids from crying last night and needed to replenish yourself or risk getting sick.

Morgana sighed at your lack of response but left to fix you a simple plate of food to eat with some water. You were still a hermit when she returned to the bedroom. You were gonna make this babysitting thing difficult.

Morgana sat the glass of water down on the nightstand should you wake up thirsty.

"I left some water and a plate of food if you feel up to it, Y/n." She said.

You remained buried under covers with no plans of returning to the real world. Dick had invaded Joker's room and erased the comforting scent of lighter fluid and cinnamon from the bed sheets.

With the sea of uncertainty floating within your head, you needed something familiar to ground you to the present. You craved Joker and his unique scent but he was nowhere to be found.

You whimpered dejectedly and Morgana's heart went out to you.

She wanted to offer you some emotional support but decided to leave you be. No words of encouragement could help the pain you were in.

She checked on you one last time before leaving your room. Her mind was focused on you and not her surroundings. She received the jump scare of a lifetime when she turned the corner.

"Holy s__t!" Morgana yelped.

Joker pursed his lips and watched your friend try to scramble away. Morgana knocked a figurine on the hallway table over but remained on her feet for the most part. The bauble smashed onto the floor in several pieces and Joker hummed offhandedly at its demise.

"I uh li-ked that one. So! I'm guessing you're the... florist friend."

He blocked her escape and tilted his head in a show of intimidation. It worked like a charm. Morgana's brown eyes were wide like saucers.

"Y/n likes your work. The uhh.. arrangements.. from Arrange Me NoT.. ya see. I wasn't ex-pect-ting visitors so uh sorry bout this..." Joker went to grab Morgana but she shoved the decorative table in his direction and bolted down the hallway.

Joker sighed and gave her a head's start before he easily caught up to her in the living room.

He yanked her back by her hair and Morgana, ever mindful of you trying to sleep, stifled her scream with her palm.

Her back collided with the wall as Joker held a knife up to her throat. It was natural that she panicked but she did so for an entirely different reason.

"You can't kill me, it'll tear Y/n apart!" Morgana looked Joker dead in the eye and pleaded her case. He rolled his eyes and nudged her jugular with his knife.

"S-She's hurting! She's hurting and we didn't know!! If you kill me it'll only make things worse on her! Please, I want to take care of my friend, I won't tell a-anyone! I-I-I promise!" Morgana started to sob but Joker could care less.

He furrowed his brows and gripped his knife tighter, "Whaddya mean.. 'Y/n is hurting?"

Morgana scanned Joker's face. His makeup was more terrifying in person than on tv.

The clown looked serious but she didn't know the guy well enough to know for sure so she asked aloud. "Y-You don't know?"

J rolled his eyes again and smacked his lips. "I wouldn't asK if I diD, now would I? Who. HurT. Her?" Morgana flinched every time he stressed a syllable.

Now, Morgana was a sensible woman. She was book and street smart and used them well in life.

Even with her back literally against the wall, she wouldn't show fear; it wasn't in her free spirited nature. She faced fear with a straight face and dealt with the consequences later, however; this man was worse than fear.

The Joker was unpredictable and unnaturally calm with everything he did. He held her at knifepoint with a lazy grin as if it didn't matter if she answered or not.

She would die regardless.

Her life didn't matter to him so she had to think smart to stay alive. She resorted to her business savvy skills.

Morgana had information that Joker didn't know about and that put a value on her life. It would buy her some time to escape at least.

She nodded to herself and began to work.

"Will you let me go? I-I'll tell you anything, just.. not while being held at knifepoint." Morgana glanced at the weapon resting precariously on her jugular. Any more pressure and the edge would puncture the skin.

Joker narrowed his eyes but guided Morgana over to the kitchen island by her arm after thinking things over. He wanted to hear what she had to say.

He pushed her towards a barstool and leaned down right in her face.

He hoped his fear tactics weren't rusty from misuse yet Morgana looked ready to pass out. His presence alone had her on edge.

"Start. Talking." Joker ordered.

Morgana nodded and closed her eyes. He wasn't giving her any time to react to any of this. She was face to face with the infamous Joker inside her friend's apartment. It was a lot to digest. Just what business did he have with you?

But suddenly, everything made sense.

The reason why you became so secretive out of the blue. Why you denied having relations with Bruce Wayne, how you survived the attack at The Prosperity, and why you wanted privacy at your apartment, now more so than ever. She thought back to when this all started; right after Joker escaped from Arkham Asylum.

You were keeping Joker a secret this entire time right under everyone's nose.

Morgana had to give you props; you did an amazing job but she still had to ask.

"Before I start, I have to know. Are you just using her or are you and Y/n like.. together together?" She made a lewd gesture with her hands. Joker wasn't amused. He clicked his blade back out with a sigh.

"I won'T ask again. Talk or the uhh knife? This one! It comes back." He shook it playfully and its sharp edge gleamed in the kitchen's overhead lights.

Joker wouldn't hesitate plunging the knife into her neck. The clean up would be a pain but nothing he couldn't handle. If she didn't want to willingly talk then things could shift to a more tortuous method of communication.

It was all up to Morgana to decide. Comply or be difficult. He let her mull it over.

Watching Joker's fiddle with his knife was enough to get her talking. This madman would not hesitate in killing her and she knew it. She'd tell him anything as long as that knife kept a safe distance from her. "I'll talk."

Morgana sighed in relief when Joker backed off.

"Okay, wow um, you might wanna sit down for this. It's.. a lot to take in. Ugh, where do I start?"

Joker watched Morgana stall and decided to help her along. He sighed and pulled up a seat in front of her.

"Let's start... righhhht after Florence left yesterday." Joker fixed his suit collar before crossing his ankles. Morgana was in disbelief by his extensive knowledge of the situation.

"How do you...?" Joker sent her a glare.

"You're right, I don't wanna know. Okay, so apparently Florence knows about you and Y/n. F__k, I do too! This is crazy. You and Y/n.. are dating. Anyways, Flo stormed out of the apartment with Neo hot on her heels. It was crazy with everyone talking over themselves and Y/n fainted but thankfully Bruce caught her. We were so worried about her but when she came to, she was still hung up on Florence. Then Y/n and Dick were yelling at each other until her mom broke them up."

Morgana ran a hand through her silk press. This was a lot harder to explain than she thought.

She quite honestly didn't know if The Joker wanted a short summary or a detailed explanation but she continued nonetheless. She chose to info dump to save her own hide.

"We all went into the kitchen– Y/n's parents, Barbs and I, while Y/n, Dick, and Bruce were still arguing in the dining room. Y/n walked past all angry at something Grayson said and slammed her bedroom door close but her mom left us in the kitchen to bring Y/n a plate of dessert. I guess they patched things up. They were up in her room for the—"

Joker had to interrupt. "Y/n let someone into her room?"

Morgana slowly nodded. He had been quiet as she rambled, she wasn't expecting him to interrupt to clarify such a useless detail.

"Yeah, it was her mom so guess it was okay? Well, now that I think about it, Y/n didn't appreciate them 'invading her safe space.' Her words not mine. It was around that time we all decided on staying over for a sleepover and Y/n made sure we were all situated before going to bed. I swear everything was fine when we went to sleep but we woke up to Y/n screaming her head off."

Morgana began to tear up. Joker felt indifferent to the sight since it wasn't your tears. Seeing Morgana's just annoyed him.

She took a deep breath and Joker knew she was getting to the important part.

"When we got to the balcony, Y/n was fighting with Bruce and crying her heart out. She was reliving everything that happened that night and... h-hey woah!! Where are you going?!"

Morgana panicked when Joker shifted to get up from his chair. She blocked his path and he eyed her in disgust.

"Move." Joker could not stand Wayne and his obvious lovesick attraction to you.

You had relations with Bruce that Joker didn't know about and it irked him to have competition for your love.

It was already bad enough that Wayne was at your apartment, that he spent the night, and then had the audacity to put his hands on you. But he messed up by making you cry. The man was begging for death at this point.

Joker would enjoy murdering Gotham City's most upstanding citizen. He already had a thousand ways to do it brewing inside his head. However, Morgana was in his way.

She hesitantly pushed him back and apologized when Joker gave her a harsh glare. Note to self: do not touch the psychotic clown, she thought.

She tried to calm down his murderous campaign by telling the truth.

"It wasn't Bruce! He was only trying to help!" Joker rolled his eyes (what help has Wayne ever been) but she put her foot down and continued.

"IF YOU STOP JUMPING TO CONCLUSIONS AND LET ME FINISH, YOU WOULD UNDERSTAND!" She slapped her hands over her mouth and looked up at Joker.

She did not just yell at this man. Morgana did some questionable things in her life but that had to be the most reckless of them all. She glanced towards the bedroom and hoped that she wasn't too loud.

Joker was seriously considering snapping her neck for raising her voice at him.

His patience was thin today and this girl was testing it to the limits. Although he was curious as to why she stifled her voice.

He followed her gaze and eyed her quizzically. Morgana answered his unspoken question.

She dropped her hand, "Y/n is sleeping. It took forever to calm her down last night." 

Joker closed his eyes and sighed. He was so busy handling the Florence situation with Neo last night, he didn't stop and check on you. And that proved to be a big mistake.

Once again, when you needed Joker the most, he was nowhere to be found. His sweet Bunny was terrified last night and had to rely on Wayne of all people for comfort. Joker had failed you yet again. It left a sour taste in his mouth.

He assumed guilt and vowed to atone for his failure in blood.

"Uhhh what, errrr rather who made her cry? Who I'm killing?" Joker asked out of the blue.

He sat back down on the barstool and Morgana eyed him briefly as she thought over her answer. If she told the truth, then he would go out and start a murdering spree.

"No one I think? Like I said, Y/n was in total hysterics last night. Her parents knew exactly what to do to calm her down from her episode. She... she had a panic attack about the night she was—" Morgana stopped and looked away.

The most important part and she couldn't say it aloud. She fought back tears and faced Joker.

He needed to know but the words were caught in her throat.

Joker wasn't a fool. Something was hurting his Bunny that he didn't know about. Correction; He knew something from your past still haunted you for a while now.

There were signs that he picked up during his brief time with you.

You were a recluse despite being so young and you avoided all types of human interaction outside of your close circle of friends. He also noted you did not have any male friends, except for the Grayson boy.

You visibly became uncomfortable around the opposite sex. Him included at times.

Joker knew about your claustrophobia and anxiety in tight spaces. He noticed you would eye him warily when the two of you would take the elevator, or that you preferred open floor plans, and most of all– he remembered the conversation the two of you shared after he rescued you from Two Face's warehouse.

Joker couldn't ignore the fact that another man was on top of you earlier. "Did he.. uh you know.." Joker brushed your thigh in passing.

"No and could you just drop it? I-I don't want to be a victim again."

And Joker would be a fool not to remember the comment you made as he prepared to take you for the first time that same night.

"Um.. almost two years. B-Before I moved to Gotham. It's one of the reasons why I moved." You met Joker's knowing gaze and weakly smiled. "It's in the past. I'm okay. Really. You can touch me.. I ahh I like it when you do."

Two years. You didn't want to be a victim again. You moved to a different city to get away from the trauma someone inflicted on you.

You liked Joker's touch but it took him forever to acclimate you to it without flinching.

You still did every now and then but he paid it no mind since you would relax after a second or two. Joker noticed every little thing about his Light but he dismissed all the warnings signs.

The truth was right there. He was just too selfish to address them.

All the times he was too rough in bed or grabbed you unexpectedly, came crashing down on him. What if he pressured you into something you didn't want? What if he triggered old wounds and made things worse?

His Light, his ray of hope in this bleak existence of his, deserved to be happy and loved.

Without your smiling face by his side, Joker would be a ruthless madman again; only wishing for the world to burn with no true endgame in sight.

He spent too much time bathed in your light to return to his pointless crusade. What a lonely life he lived before you came and gave it purpose.

Joker didn't know what to do with the fact that his Light was miserable inside.

Morgana watched him slip down a mental rabbit hole. He looked lost in thought as a weight settled over his brow.

She wondered what you saw in the man but the longer she stared, she could see some of the appeal. He was hot if she squinted. Joker obviously cared a great deal about you and his eyes were a complex shade of green that Morgana had never seen before.

You had a thing for eyes.. but the fact you made someone like The Joker have feelings for another human being was an achievement in itself.

Morgana hated to interrupt his thoughts but she finally found the courage to continue. She cleared her throat to continue but Joker cut her off.

"Don'T say it. I know. I've.... known for a while now." He swept his arm across the kitchen counter and sent items crashing to the floor.

Morgana jumped at the unexpected action and watched Joker stand up and begin pacing the room, mumbling to himself.

He was about to start breaking more things when Morgana stole his attention.

"Now you see why I asked you earlier?" Joker shot her a glare. She swiftly changed her tone. "Are you just using Y/n... or are you going to be there for her? Y/n needs us, all of us, and if you're just using her, I'm sorry but I can't allow that!"

Joker laughed, "What are ya gonna do, hmm? Stop me? Now.. that? That is funny. But don't worry– I'm not using Y/n.. I lov—"

Joker stopped himself mid sentence and Morgana caught onto what he almost said. Her jaw dropped in disbelief.

You could hear the fridge humming in the background, it was so quiet in the kitchen.

"O-Oh. Well, um that wasn't on my monthly bingo card but alrighty now." Morgana fell back onto the barstool.

This was awkward. She stole a glance at the criminal frozen in place as he registered what he just confessed to.

He finally almost said it aloud. He'd been struggling for days to tell you in person but managed to say it to your friend, no sweat. She had to die now. No one could know he had feelings.

Joker turned his head like an owl and Morgana instantly picked up on his murderous intent.

She moved so there was an island counter in between Joker and her. She valued her life, thank you very much.

"Hey now! No need to get all murder stabby stabby on me! T-That's amazing! H-have you told Y/n yet?"

Joker curled his lip. "No. Where is she?" He glanced down the hall and was about to storm off when Morgana flailed her arms.

"Wait! Don't wake her up!!" Her shout worked in getting Joker's attention but now she had to do damage control. Joker did not like her ordering him around. Morgana could work on establishing an acquaintance later, your health was more important.

"You can't just drop an L bomb after everything that's happened, are you crazy?! Now is not the time and news flash! She doesn't need— Uh excuse you?! Hey, are you listening to me?"

Morgana dashed down the hallway to catch up to Joker. She slipped past him and blocked the door frame with her body. "Listen to what I'm saying!"

Joker eyed her like a pest. Did she seriously think she could stop him?

"Y/n can't stand men right now. She drew blood trying to get away from Bruce and she couldn't tolerate her own father's presence. You don't know what her ex did to her. You don't want to see her like this." 

Joker stared at Morgana as her warning sank in.

If he had any clue what your sorry excuse for an ex did, then you needed someone to comfort you more than ever. Isolation was the last thing you needed right now.

As someone who frequently battled voices inside of his head, silence was the enemy and made matters worse. Joker knew that for a fact that you don't handle separation well, so why did Morgana think leaving you to your thoughts was a good idea?

It was a recipe for disaster.

He understood why you're terrified of men but you never feared him before. Why start now?

Joker smacked his lips and shoved Morgana aside. She yelped as he opened the bedroom door and glanced around.

Same original hardwood floors, same vegan cowhide rug.

The leather couch with two accent chairs, one slate grey, the other sage green, were still over in the corner by the electric fireplace and the view of Grant Park from outside was half obscured by the curtains. A single beam of sunlight was the only source of light within the room.

Everything was the same yet vastly off due to the fact that your aura wasn't thriving in the room.

It felt cold and bereft of life.

Joker was eyeing the open closet door when he saw something shift on the bed.

There was a sizable lump in the middle but he recognized the shape from anywhere. You were buried underneath the covers and doing your best impression of a blanket burrito. He could tell that you were awake.

You were timid but curious of the presence that entered the room. Subtle movements revealed you were tracking his every footfall.

Joker exhaled before walking over to stand beside the bed. He rather rip the band-aid off than freak you out by stalling.

Morgana picked herself up from off the floor and entered the room, only for Joker's eyes to force her back out.

She understood the message within the greenish hue.

"I was neva here." She said as she walked backwards out the door. It clicked shut behind her.

With her gone, Joker could finally breathe a sigh of relief.

He wasn't out of the woods just yet since Morgana would surely stay inside the apartment, (little did he know, she was cupping her ear to the door, trying to eavesdrop) but he could be more forward with his actions. It was a relief that your rooms were soundproof; Joker had a lot on his mind.

"I know you're awake."

The pile of covers flinched and shrunk in on itself. Joker shrugged off his coat and tossed it onto the leather couch. It landed heavily with a distinct metal clank.

"You probably need, uhh, space but I can't leave ya alone. NoT now. I'm here. If you need me." Joker sank a knee onto the bed and crept forward until he bumped against you. He heard the sharp inhale you made upon contact and wisely backed off.

You were a gentle soul both inside and out. You didn't deserve to be frightened of something as simple as human touch. He wanted nothing more than to spoil you with affection, however Joker would be patient and regain your trust again. You were worth the wait.

Just like the bunny he named you after, he would wait until you came crawling out of your hiding hole, curious to explore.

And just like he expected, you slowly poked your head from out of the covers before looking around the room. He stayed out of your eyesight so he wouldn't startle you, but somehow, you knew he was there.

It wasn't that dark in the room but he was hesitant to turn on a light until you asked him to.

"W-Who's t-there?" You turned your head and locked eyes with pools of jade.

Joker didn't move a muscle as you lookedbut didn't fully see him. He noticed you shaking. You probably saw someone else with your unstable mind.

"Y/n, it's me." J waved at you but you shrunk back further into the covers.

He had to think fast and jog your memory. He was the one that gave you a slew of nicknames but you didn't have one for him. He was just J.

Not very helpful in this current predicament.

Joker still had his makeup on and it would remain until Morgana left the penthouse for good. It eliminated him from showing you the constellation of freckles you loved so much on his face. That for sure would restart your memory.

What was something the two of you shared that could help familiarize Joker to you?

He had yet to give you anything of sentimental value so he striked that off the list. He was shifting his weight on the bed when you tensed.

Your nose flexed just like a bunny, he thought it was cute.

"I should ahhh–"

You cut Joker off. "Lighter fluid and something.. metallic. It.. it smells like that when I'm safe with.. J? Where, w-where were you? Why didn't you stop him..?"

There were many things in this life that Joker overcame. He been in the world's most toughest jails, endured inhumane torture methods, and fought against the greatest superheroes and lived to tell the tale. Yet despite all of those feats, he was brought to his knees at the sight of your tears time and time again.

They were daggers straight to his heart. He couldn't bear seeing his Light in so much pain but despite the agony, he couldn't look away.

You clung tighter to the comforter around you.

"I-I don't know what's r-real anymore! I can hear him telling me it's okay but it's your hands hurting me. You wouldn't do that! Your hands are warm w-with callouses on the palms and index fingers. I begged you to stop! Why won't you s-stop?! Please.. just.. Why weren't you there when I needed you?"

Joker hated to admit it, but Morgana was right. He didn't need to see you like this.

He was living in a nightmare seeing his precious bunny struggling to see the truth. Your mind was all mixed up, fighting both the past and the present.

He had to do something although he didn't know what.

"I.. I wasn't here last night, but uhh, I'm here now. C'mon, Y/n, tell me what ya need me to do."

Joker would give you the world on a silver platter if you asked for it, but he felt utterly useless watching you spiral into madness. His heart stopped beating after he heard your watery plea.

"It hurts, please stop." You weren't thinking clearly and he began to worry when you started to breathe erratically.

He couldn't sit around and watch you suffer. Joker threw all caution to the wind and pulled you in for a hug, covers and all.

At first you resisted– Joker thought he messed up big time– but you sagged further in his arms and buried your face into his chest.

You grabbed fists full of J's suit and inhaled.

The unique cocktail that only Joker possessed, helped you recognize who held you tightly. You sobbed knowing that your Dark Prince was finally here. You thought Joker abandoned you.

"I don't want him to come back, please don't go!" You looked up at Joker.

Your big e/c were frantically staring into his. He sighed and tucked a wayward curl back into place under your bonnet– for once, you didn't flinch, rather you leaned into his touch. Your cheek felt so cold against his hand.

Something in J gave way to the moment.

"If you'll, uh let meee, I'll never let you go. Is that okay?" Joker asked. You looked away and he quickly added. "I won't do anything else, doll. I just wanna be.. here for ya. Let me ahh hold you so... he.. doesn't hurt ya. I won't leave you."

You bit your lip. Joker's arms were soothing for now but you were wary of them.

He could turn violent at a moment's notice. "You promise you won't hurt me?"

You gasped when Joker rested his forehead against yours. It didn't matter that his white paint transferred onto your skin. You weren't expecting such a sweet gesture from him.

It pained him to hear your plea. He feared you were broken beyond repair. But Joker could fix you; he could fix anything if given enough time. 

"I'd let Bats drag me back to Arkham Asylum before I'd lay a finger on ya. Never again." He kept eye contact with you as he grabbed your hand. You surprised yourself by letting him do it.

Baby steps, Joker thought to himself. His eyes squeezed shut as he kissed the fading scar that he made on your palm.

You saw the anguish take hold of his features. Since when was Joker so open to show his emotions?

Joker dropped his usual dialect and talked to you straight. You knew he was serious when his voice also dropped an octave.

Gone was the clown that Gotham City feared, this was just J, a man secretly in love, speaking to you in the hushed air of your room.

"You're my Light. My everything." He used your fingers in his grasp to wipe your tears away.

More rushed to the surface hearing his sincere words but he diligently kept wiping. "These tears I swear, they'll be the death of me. I know it's scary and you have every right to fear me, but if you don't remember anything else– know this Y/n." He waited until you looked at him.

A kaleidoscope of green greeted you and you swore you would never be the same.

"I will never hurt you again. I promise."

Joker whispered your name when you lost concentration and he patiently waited until you looked into his eyes again.

They pleaded with you to understand the unspoken truths his heart was too weak to voice.

Screw what Morgana said about bad timing. He wanted you to know. He had to tell you the truth. Joker cupped your face, "Y/n, I lo—"

You wanted to hear what Joker had to say but your eyes grew heavy all of a sudden. The last thing you ate was that plate of sugar Mom brought you last night. Your body burned through it and demanded more fuel to keep you functioning.

You were dehydrated and your mind and body were running on fumes. You couldn't keep up, so you crashed.

Joker panicked when your body swayed slightly before you fell back. You were unconscious by the time he could react.

He cursed at his failed attempt but recovered quickly to dote on you. Declarations of love would have to wait. His Light was running the risk of being sick.

Joker laid you down and tucked you into bed properly before heading over to the door. Much to his surprise Morgana was there, doing a terrible job of hiding that she was eavesdropping.

She pretended to straighten the abstract artwork hanging outside the guest bedroom as Joker walked by.

She glanced inside and saw you sleeping but knew something happened behind closed doors.

Instead of being a blanket burrito, you were tucked in bed like Sleeping Beauty with the pillows and covers around you almost picturesque.

Joker had a soft side after all. She just witnessed it firsthand. 

Maybe she should tell him everything your parents disclosed last night after all. By the time she caught up to Joker in the living room, he was mid-call.

He saw her approaching and held up a finger.

Morgana dealt with many rude people in her line of work but Joker was probably the rudest of them all.

"... Mmhm, make sure she's discreet this time. One of Y/n's friends is still here. Yeah.. about that.." Joker locked eyes with Morgana. "She's alive. For now."

She froze on the spot. What did for now mean? Was there some kind of 'how to stay alive' program she needed to know about? He had some nerve and this was the man who claimed to love you.

How comforting.

Morgana bounced on the balls of her feet hoping to be acknowledged soon.

Joker discussed some more minor details with one of his henchmen before hanging up. His eyes then flickered over to the vibrant bouquet of flowers Morgana was working on.

She thought he would destroy her hard work but he leaned over to sniff the delicate flora instead.

"For Y/n?" He scanned the work for any imperfections; there weren't any.

He wanted nothing but the best for his bunny. He stared at Morgana, arching an eyebrow when she didn't respond.

"Y–Yeah." Morgana said, "I'm not finished yet! It's gonna be double in size with more Queen Anne lace and roses to r-round it all out. Y/n loves roses and the Eucalyptus will be good for her exhaustion. Its scent is known for its aromatherapy powers plus its good for rejuvenating the spirit and overall elevating one's mood."

Joker nodded and backed off. It was nice to know one of your friends was looking out for you in your time of need.

He was wary of keeping Morgana alive but she was proving to be 'good people' as you had a habit of saying. A far cry from Florence.

Joker grumbled to himself just thinking about the Haitian.

Morgana jumped hearing a rare chuckle from the dark clown. "She'll like them. Now! Let's dis-cuss you. Sit."

Joker clapped his hands and pointed to the blue couch in your living room. He didn't wait for Morgana to act, he was already walking towards the kitchen to grab a water.

He noticed the leftovers in your fridge as he rummaged around for a drink. You probably needed to eat but he'd wait for the doc to look you over and decide what's best.

He snagged two water bottles and headed back to the living room but arrived to witness Morgana swirling a tumbler glass in her hands.

She took a big swig from it as he sat down opposite of her in an accent chair.

She wiped her mouth and tried to explain, "Don't judge me. I need hard liquor after all of this. Want one? I'm great at mixing drinks." She shimmied her shoulders but Joker wasn't amused.

He heard stories from Y/n about Morgana. Her and Florence were the heavy drinkers of the group.

"Y/n doesn't keep alcohol in her apartment." He noted.

Morgana laughed once and polished off her drink. She set it on the coffee table that separated them both. She noticed the clown was right at home in your place but had yet to find her and Flo's numerous stashes of liquor.

"What Y/n doesn't know won't kill her." She failed to dodge the water bottle Joker threw at her face. "OW! What was that for?!"

He sipped on the water while rolling his eyes. Morgana rubbed at her cheek and waited for the clown to finish. He drank the entire bottle in one pull before recapping the top and setting it down.

"Y/n likes to recycle. Ya know-  saving the.. turtles, uhh, one plastic at a time. That's my Light. Always caring for others; failing to take care of herself."

"Isn't she caring for you until you no longer need her?" She interrupted.

Joker licked his scars. Have patience. No need to take your frustrations out on others, he heard your voice recite in his head. He took a deep breath before smiling at Morgana.

"I'm noT leaving Y/n so that means I have to, uhh, geT along with the people in her life. So! This can be a lit-le experiment of sorts between usss. Let's see how long you can keep your mouth shut and I'll.... see how long I can tolerate you without murdering ya! Deal?"

Morgana was at a loss for words. What kind of agreement was that?

"I need another drink." She sighed. Joker's laugh was far more creepier in person than on tv.

The sound of the doorbell startled Morgana out of her task. She set the spray bottle down and jogged over to the front door to answer it.

She was pleasantly surprised when a beautiful woman was standing outside, chewing on bubble gum with an attitude.

"Can I help you?" Morgana asked.

The female looked up from her phone and glanced down the short hallway, at the elevator, and then back at Morgana.

"Tis boy better not have given me da wrong address. Hold on." She dialed a number and brought it to her ear.

Morgana was left awkwardly holding the door when the mysterious woman began arguing with whoever she called.

The commotion gained Joker's attention all the way in the living room. He recognized the woman at the door instantly. She did the same the moment she spotted Joker.

"Well well! If it isn't my sorry excuse for a patient! I see you're not restin' your leg like I told ya." She sighed.

Joker smiled and leaned on the door frame. "Be glad I didn't kill you after my checK up, doc." He fired back.

Morgana glanced back and forth between the two. "Uhh do you two know each other or something?"

The woman looked Morgana dead in the eye. "I don't know who this man is. I mean, he could be walking down the street, I wouldn't. Sorry to this man."

Joker laughed and she joined along but swatted his hands away when he tried to grab her neck.

The pair walked inside, leaving Morgana utterly confused in the foyer. She watched them talk amongst themselves like two old friends and caught up to them mid sentence.

"..and her hands are sooooo cold, doc. She's been crying her little heart out and passed out in my arms. Whatever can ya do?" Joker pouted as he held the bedroom door open for his esteemed guest.

She walked in and looked around. Leave it for Joker to find some chick with money. She sat her bag down on a nearby table and dug through it for some gloves. 

"Sounds like dehydration. When's the last time she ate?"

Morgana walked in and answered for Joker, "Last night around eight ish? It was a plate of dessert but she ate dinner too. Hi, I'm her friend and you are?"

"Name's Sarai. I'm this idiot's on-call doc." Sarai dabbed Morgana up before facing her employer. "Now, where's my patient?"

Joker was too busy stewing in jealousy. He liked secret handshakes too. What gives?

"You don't do that with me doc. I thought we were errr close."

She eyed him like a fed up mother would her child. "You ain't black, Joker. Now move." She pushed him aside and approached the bed, but stopped as if she saw a ghost.

She treated hundreds of patients a day but she never forgot a face. "I remember her."

Sarai picked up your hands and sure enough, the jagged cut that she treated almost a month ago was still there. Your hands were cold to the touch just like Joker said and also a bit clammy.

"Did you do this?" She pointed at your palms. Joker sat down by your side and had the decency to look ashamed. He sighed before nodding.

Both Sarai and Morgana stared at him in disbelief. He looked so remorseful.

Joker was such a man child at times. One would have thought Sarai scolded him with the way he was acting. She flicked her braids over her shoulder with a huff.

Today they were blonde butterfly locs reaching down to her waist. When she shook her head, they moved with her. Joker eyed them curiously. How did she work in the hospital with such long braids?

"I knew I shoulda filed a police report. Her shoddy story bout mistakin' the pepper grinder for a knife was too sketchy."

She donned her pink gloves before she gently opened your mouth. "Ah, as I thought. She's dehydrated. You want an IV in her?"

Morgana stood on the other side of the bed to watch this interaction up close. There was actually a person not afraid of The Joker!

This supposed doctor was talking to him any kind of way and he paid her no mind. She would demand something out of her bag and he would grab it, no questions asked.

But he pushed Morgana to the ground and threw water bottles at her when she raised her voice at him. This man was truly unpredictable.

Morgana let her intrusive thoughts get the better of her. "So you're a real doctor and you willingly work for him?"

She slapped a hand over her mouth after she spoke but it was too late. Sarai was inserting an IV into your arm but chuckled at the insult. She admired her handiwork before replying.

"Dr. Sarai Obukofe, chief trauma surgeon at Gotham General. Joker's house calls pays more tho. Don't give me dat look. I'm from Blüdhaven, his crimes ain't nothin' n' Jokester here won't hurt friends of da family. Won't ya now?" She nudged his leg with her own.

Joker hummed. It was neither affirmative or negative.

Morgana slowly nodded. She picked up the thick Blüdhaven accent at the door but she was still confused.

"Friends of the family?" She questioned.

Sarai rigged the IV bag to your bedpost. It would have to do since she didn't pack an IV pole. Not like she could.

This was an off the books house call after all. She received a text from her cousin saying to come to an address with her crash kit– strictly on the low.

Sarai automatically knew it was for Joker. She couldn't refuse the job even if today was her rare day off.

She blew a bubble and popped it sharply before eyeing Joker. "How deep is she?" She jerked her head at Morgana.

Joker didn't look away from you to answer. "Accident. I'm con-sider-ing offing her later."

Sarai grimaced and cast sympathetic eyes on Morgana. "Ouch, so an outsider then."

She checked you over when you began to shiver. "Frost mentioned on the phone that she had a 'traumatic experience.' Care ta explain that?"

Morgana had enough. She cut through the air with her hand in a fit of rage.

"No, no! Go back! I thought we had a deal, Joker! We shared a drink together, you said you'd keep me alive if I helped you with this 'get along with others' experiment of yours. Now you're thinking about killing me again? Make up your mind!"

Joker was about to when you whimpered and stole everyone's attention. They were being too loud.

"You're disturbing my patient. Either lower ya voice or move dis conversation elsewhere." Sarai hissed at Morgana.

The florist was trying to keep her cool. These two strangers just barged into your place as if they owned it and had the audacity to boss her around!

She couldn't even defend herself! Morgana wished she'd let Dick stay behind instead. He probably would've handled this situation a bit better than her. Sure he would've fought with Joker and possibly died in the process, but he wouldn't have sided with the madman to stay alive. GCPD would have the place surrounded with Batman en route by now.

She had half a mind to sneak away and call the authorities but one look at you had her second guessing that decision.

The last thing you needed was more stress and strangers surrounding you and your space. You required peace and quiet to heal.

But this clown was on thin f__king ice with her.

It was a lot to handle on a Friday afternoon and Morgana wasn't about to let Joker or this doctor mess with her energy. She took a relaxing breath and found her center.

"I will not let your indecisiveness get the better of me. However if we're to get along– whatever the hell that means, you gotta stop threatening to kill me." Morgana said.

Joker looked at Sarai as if she had the answers.

The doctor was putting away her tools and had no parts in this. She'd stick around until Joker called her back to remove the IV. Other than that, her job was done.

That is until you groaned and blinked your eyes open.

Everyone held their breath in anticipation. You squinted your eyes a few times until you felt a tightness on your forearm.

Much to your horror there was a hospital IV inserted in your vein. You began to claw at it when Joker reached out and stopped you.

"Hey. Hey.. leave thaT alone, baby doll." Your eyes darted up to him.

It took you longer than he liked to recognize him again, but you were slowly coming back to yourself.

"J.. it's cold." Your fingernail picked at the tape Sarai attached to keep the needle in place.

You hated doctors and you hated medical treatment. It reminded you too much of that night and the following weeks thereafter. You didn't want to think about it again, and Joker was right there to distract you from it all.

His hand rested atop yours and squeezed. He felt like a furnace. He sighed, "I knooow but, it's gonna make ya feel better. You uhh want me to hold you? Promise I'm warm, hmm?"

His thumb rubbed circles on your darker skin as you thought over his offer. You relented with a weak nod.

Joker stood up to climb into the bed with you but looked up at something within the room.

"Close the door on your way out. Now."

You wondered who he was talking to and followed his gaze. You and Morgana locked eyes. She was calm, way too calm to be in Joker's presence and the crazy part– he allowed her to be.

Your eyes went back and forth between her and Joker as the wheels in your brain spun out of control. Surely this was a dream.

There was no way Joker would let another one of your friends in on his secret. Then you spotted a third individual standing off to the side. She looked familiar but you couldn't place her at present.

Your mind was too busy grasping at the reality of Joker and Morgana being in the same room without the latter being murdered.

That dream you had of a little boy by the river whispered in your mind.

'She knows and now she has to die.'

He wasn't talking about Florence. He was referring to Morgana.

You shot forward and grabbed a hold Joker's suit vest in a surprisingly strong grip. He looked down at you in intrigue as you started spouting nonsense.

"Not her! Please don't kill her Joker! She's my friend. Y-You promised me!" You were leaving wrinkles in Joker's shirt as Morgana rounded the bed to enter your line of vision.

"Y/n! Calm down, I'm right here! I'm okay!" She stole your attention but it came with a price. You let go of Joker to whirl on Morgana. It was her turn to hiss at your vice-like grip.

"You can't be here! You have to leave Gana. You didn't see nothing! Deny everything! Please.. I-I can't lose you too. I can't lose another friend.. Please."

You sobbed into her arms and she glared at Joker who was still standing off to the side, speechless.

He was coping with the fact you begged him not to kill someone and that he felt obligated to obey.

He wasn't going to let Morgana leave the apartment building alive but the moment you begged him, Joker's hands were tied. He promised he'd never hurt you. That meant physically, mentally, and emotionally. You stopped The Joker with three simple words.

You promised me.

He stood frozen, awaiting your next orders for he truly did not know what to do after discovering the power you held over him.

Morgana managed to get you to lie back on the bed as your burst of adrenaline died out. You felt sluggish all of a sudden.

Sarai stood watch as the pain meds she added to your IV line started to kick in. You fought against the fog and looked over at Joker.

His eyes instantly found yours and thus the staring match began. Your drugged induced gaze had a clear warning in them and you made sure to declare it vocally.

"You hurt my friends.. and I'll never.. forgive you." You fell back asleep and the room breathed a sigh of relief.

Joker feared nothing in this life but your warning hit him like a ton of bricks. He hoped you would forget all of this when you woke up.

If not, then he was in deep trouble.