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myladysapphire · 2 years ago

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My Lady Strong (I)

Aemond had always been protective of his neice, obssessed even, insiting on keeping her sheltered, and purley his, he never let her stray far and following the incident at Driftmark, Aemma was rarley without Aemond as her shadow. How will the kind, sheltered girl fair in the dance of dragons?

word count: 1,645

CW: childbirth, Aegon being Aegon, Bullying, child abuse, fear of the dark, refrences to torture, loving parents, oc is described to have brown hair, streaked with silver and purple eyes

Fem!oc x Aemond Targeryen (can be read as x reader)

Masterlist | series masterlist | next part

disclamer: i do not own any of claim any of the A song of ice and fire charecters, all rights belong to GRR MARTIN, all charecters are his except for my OC

When Rhaenyra fell pregnant for a second time, she knew it would be different.

For the birth of Jacaerys, her pregnancy was followed with mass celebrations, house Veleryon showering her with gifts, proud that a child with Velaryon blood would sit on the iron throne. But after his birth, the celebrations ceased. Whispers swept through the court, questioning his birth. But after a few months, many came to the agreement it was his grandmother Rhaenys Baratheon’s blood shining through, she once looked more Baratheon than Targeryen and the child was merely taking after her.

But then she fell pregnant again, and though she was once more greeted with celebrations, the court held its breath.

One child born with the Baratheon looks was one thing, genetics was a mystery and it was pure chance he had brown hair and eyes.

But if this child too had the ‘Baratheon looks’ then it would all but confirm the rumours queen Alicent spun.

But that was not why Rhaenyra felt this pregnancy to be different, unlike her first pregnancy, she had different symptoms, morning skinniness, new cravings, and where before she had always had clear skin she was getting pimples and spots. She hoped for a girl, having always wanted a little sister, and now she would have a daughter. She had only ever imagined having girls, and though she was not disappointed at having a boy when the masters spoke of their predictions of it being a girl, she got a little jump in her step.

So, when she went into labour, whilst the court held its breath waiting for the legitimacy of her children to be confirmed, she held her excitement over having a daughter.

The day of her labour was not cheerful, the skies were grey and cloudy and when her contractions began rain fell from the sky, a storm from Stormsend having reached KingsLanding.

With the wind rattling against the windows, and thunder striking down from the sky, the family waiting outside, Viserys pacing the halls. Alicent biting her nails. This labour was tough, though Jacaerys birth had been easy, this had taken double the time his had, her screams, louder than even the storm raging outside. And when it all stopped the family feared the worse.

The young prince Aemond, only eighteen moons old had awoken, screaming insisting he is with his mother. Only to arrive just in time to hear his niece's screams and his eldest sister's laughter.

He rushed into her room, not even allowing time for his father to check on his daughter, before jumping up (as well as a toddler could) and sitting next to his sister insisting on holding his niece. Tired from the labour Rhaenyra agreed.

When her father and Alicent finally entered, they were quick to approach. Alicent caught a glimpse of black hair streaked with silver.

“A girl?” Viserys questioned, smiling down at the babe in Aemonds arms.

Nodding, Rhaenyra smiled “Aemma” she declared, causing a delighted laugh to leave Viserys mouth.

“She looks just like her, the Arryn genes are strong with her it seems, she even has your mother’s eyes.” And she did, Arryn blue eyes, not violet, as she had dreamed, but perfect.

She had attempted to take Aemma back from Aemond, but he had not let go, simply smiling and babbling to his niece, his Aemma.

As the years went by Aemond continued to stay with Aemma, scarcely letting her stray from his sight, his hand always holding hers. Where one was, the other was always near. Being the only two without a dragon, his never hatching, and her own destroyed along following the storm on the day of her birth, they had the same lessons, with no dragon lessons, they were very rarely apart.

Aemma had grown into a sweet, beautiful, and intelligent girl. Her looks compared to that of her great-grandmother, Daella, alongside her sweet nature. She had an innocence around her, being the middle child and only girl of her mother, her mother wished to preserve the child-like wonder for her daughter, wishing to grant her daughter the childhood of being the heir and the only child of a king stolen from her. Aemond was all too pleased to keep her like this, wanting to preserve her wonder, her need for him. Though book smart, the sheltered life she lived kept her from the real world. She was even protected from rumours, though they still were whispered, all desired to keep her from them.

She was a kind girl and underserving of the cruelty of court, but even that did not protect her from her family. Alicent had always been fond of her, always allowing her near her children, being kind, braiding her hair and even commissioning gifts for her. She was close to Heleana, the pair, whenever Aemond left her alone, often found each other’s company. Aemma was one the few people to share her interest in insects, even going out of her way to collect any that she thought Heleana might enjoy. But Aegon and her brothers were another story. Aegon was a jealous person, envying his niece for the kindness his mother never found him, so he took it out on her.

When Jacaerys let slip Aemma’s fear of the dark, an idea struck him.

The black cells.

Aemma rarely slept alone, with Aemond often sneaking in and sleeping with her, hating the moments apart even when they sleep. When he was sick, they often slept apart, his fear of catching his illness, however little or contagious it was. And her chambers always had candles lit for when she did sleep, a reassurance that whatever lurked in the dark was stopped by the glow of a candle.

Aegon waited for Aemond to fall ill, for a time he knew she would be alone. And snuck into her chambers, her brothers by his side.

It was the dead of night, the boys aged 9 and 6 tired but willing to please their uncle, snuck into her rooms and carried her through the keep down to the third level of black cells.

Being a deep sleeper, she didn’t wake once, not even flinch when Aegon picked her up and then dumped her in the cells.

They had run off giggling, thinking it a brilliant prank, and a way to cure her of her fear, as Aegon put it.

They had thought it would be overcome morning, that she would wake in the dark before finding the door and leaving.

None of them expected her to be locked in there for a week, they did not know the doors were locked and only opened from the outside.

The keep was in disarray searching for her, neither boy spoke up, fear of their punishment keeping them.

Aemond was driving everyone mad, ordering and screaming for her to be found. He was normally a shy quiet boy, unsure of himself. But with his Aemma missing all that was left of him was a madman.

The rest of the keep was in disarray. All guards were on the lookout for the princess, searching high and low. She had completely disappeared, without a trace.

The boys were growing nervous, they couldn’t admit to what had been done and they feared the black cells too much to return and retrieve her.

Aemma had woken in complete darkness, she could even see her hand it was so dark.

She could hear screaming as if they were her own, but she didn’t notice, she didn’t even notice as she crawled forward in her small cell and pounded on the door, begging to be let out. Or as she threw her guts up after hours of screaming and pounding.

She did notice when it all went quiet. When even her screams stopped when the screams of the criminals being tortured turned quiet.

She didn’t know how much time had passed, there was no way to tell day from night.

She slept when she collapsed, her tears lulling her into a tormented sleep, her stomach empty and churning.

She had no food nor water, the dungeon master had no clue she was down here, and no one did.

Not until a week had passed and Aemond dreamt of the black cells. She had refused to rest till she was found, but collapsing from exhaustion lead to his dream, leading his startling awake, and his racing to the cells. Ser Criston Cole was quick to follow him, though he did not care for the girl he still had a duty as a kingsguard. She was found after three hours of searching, three hours of Aemond shouting and ordering guards to search every cell on every level.

Ser Harwin Strong found her, he and her mother had, like Aemond, not stopped, fearing the worse, had not rested. When he found her she was sitting in the corner, head between her legs, rocking back and forth, tears streaming down her face. She was thin, with chapped lips, her face red and puffed with her never-ending tears.

She screamed when the light poured in, shuffling back into her corner.

“Aemma” Harwin breathed, before alerting the rest of the guard, Aemond came running over, taking her into his arms.

“Aemma” he cooed, taking her hand, she had flinched back from Harwin when he took her hand, but with Aemond she took it, and jumped in his arms, tears falling from her eyes once more. “it’s ok…it’s ok… your safe now” he spoke softly, stroking her hair.

Maesters were quick to attend to her, she was weak and dehydrated. And her mind was still in a panic. She refused to let go of Aemond, using him as a shield when her brothers and Aegon paid her a visit.

She never said who had done it, but her distance and new timid nature around her brothers and uncle was proof enough for Aemond.

But he couldn’t do anything, he was a victim of their bullying. Though they never did something similar or remotely as cruel again, Aemonds crazed state was enough for them to leave Aemma and him alone, at least until the pink dread.

a/n more of an intro chapter, half edited

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j0kers-light · 2 months ago

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His Lighthouse: Protect and Serve (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

Protect and Serve

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:

GothCon is finally here! Will Y/n have a fun and fantastic time or will her lifelong dream be shattered by her past?

author's note:

The wait is over!!! For four long months I left my loves hanging, well no longer! Chaos is back in business and I give you another pivotal dream turned into a chapter. Buckle up loves. We’re nearing the end.

Let me know if you wish to be added to the official His Lighthouse taglist! Be alerted with any oneshots and the main story updates! 🖤✨

Last Chapter | Next Chapter

The dark gloomy skyline of Gotham was dramatically highlighted by a heavy downpour of rain. Longtime residents weren’t phased by the constant shower and Cindy was no different.

She walked into a local restaurant, shaking out her umbrella before setting it into a cubby. This place would not have been her first choice, but Barbara insisted the menu was worth the long commute. Either way, Cindy pulled her gloves off as she reached the table.

The young lady sitting in a decked-out wheelchair was too engrossed on her phone to notice the businesswoman waiting to be acknowledged. “Barbara.” Cindy’s long nails tapped twice on the table surface, finally getting the woman’s attention.

She locked her phone and looked up, “Hey! You made it!”

Cindy hummed and sat down opposite of Barbara. A waiter came over to place a drink order and offer an appetizer.

With the order set, Cindy enlaced her fingers together. “Now, let’s get to the matter at hand. Wait, where’s Morgana?” She noticed there were four chairs at this table and two were empty.

“She’s running a bit late, something about a high priority client requesting her last minute. Did you message Florence?” Barbara asked from across the table.

Cindy rolled her light brown eyes and brushed off the question. Not like she cared that much for the loud beautician anyway. “She didn’t reply when I messaged her. I’m assuming she’s still giving us all the silent treatment. Whatever for.”

Barbara however was more concerned. “Has anyone heard from her since the whole fiasco at Y/n’s?”

It seemed like ages ago when barely two weeks had passed since your family dinner turned into a disaster.

Florence stormed out of your apartment and effectively put the girls on silent treatment. A few days of no contact was normal after a misunderstanding like this, but Florence was being petty now. A mess was an understatement to describe it all, although it was the least of Cindy’s worries.

“No, and I do not care about Florence and her attitude. My focus is on Y/n. My publishing partner hid his past sexual harassment charges from me and the board. I found him in my office with Y/n and...”

“He did WHAT?!” Barbara half whispered screamed. Her green eyes were wider than the saucers on the table.

Cindy sighed, “Y/n won’t talk about it, she just avoids the situation with the excuse of GothCon preparations being more important. That’s why I called you. I thought you would know more information being closer to her and all.”

“I’m no help. These days..” Barbara looked at the rain running down the windows, “None of us are close with Y/n. It's like we barely know her at all.”

Cindy arched an eyebrow at the ominous words. “Why does it feel like I’m out of the loop? Just because I work all the time doesn’t mean I’m not a part of the girl boss square circle!”

It was Barbara’s turn to be confused. “Wait, she didn’t tell you? I assumed since you knew Y/n from Blüdhaven and all, that you knew already.”

“Can you stop avoiding the fact and tell me?”

“It’s not my place to say.” Barb wavered, but Cindy was quick to dispel the feeling. “How bad can it be?” She countered.

Barbara winced and started typing in her notes app what she was too afraid to say aloud. Once she was done, she slid the device across the table for Cindy to read.

Her face was a slab of stone as she read the horrors on the digital screen. Nothing could have prepared her for this.

Cindy cleared her throat as she passed the phone back. She blinked up at the ceiling to conceal the tears that threatened to escape.

“Everything makes sense now.” She fiddled with her earrings when the waiter arrived with appetizers and kind smiles.

Nothing was said as they set plates and cutlery down onto the table. “Did anyone know about this?” Cindy hissed once they were out of earshot.

“Uh no? We recently learned about it at Y/n’s dinner party. Flo sorta kinda kickstarted the panic attack that revealed it. Y/n’s parents told me, Morgana, Dick, and Bruce.” Barbara pushed her food around on the plate as silence fell over the table.

Cindy was the one to break it.

“I remember Y/n having some type of accident several months before she moved to Gotham. It halted her onboarding process, but she never mentioned anything about it afterwards. She just jumped right into writing and releasing books. She was like a machine, you know? I thought it was jitters of being a new author wanting to prove herself. I did not know about..”

Cindy pushed her plate away, suddenly not hungry. “I’m her manager, I should have noticed that something was wrong!”

Barbara couldn’t blame her Cindy for reacting in such a way.

None of your friends noticed anything either. Your aversions, the incessant need for privacy. They were oblivious to it all. You only wanted peace and quiet and they hounded you relentlessly, treating you more like a child than a friend.

Now was not the time to be moping around about the past. It was time to act before you spiraled into a hole no one would be able to dig you out of.

You were already a trigger away from snapping.

Cindy must’ve read Barb’s thoughts. “GothCon starts next week. I can only image how overwhelmed Y/n already is on top of preparations.”

“So, what do we do?” Barbara asked.

She didn’t want to add more unnecessary stress to your plate, but at this point, some friendly interference could help you in the long run. You could use an intervention, therapy even! Or was it the right thing to honor your wishes and let you suffer in silence?

By the time the two women came to a decision, it was already too late to act.

It was finally here. One of your lifelong goals as a writer.

Gotham Con was an esteemed event for any content creator. One week filled with their work being celebrated and on display surrounded by likeminded individuals. You planned this event for months (honestly, years) and now the week before the huge event had arrived.

With the constant online notifications from excited fans to organizers sending you confirmation emails and last-minute preparation checklists—you were quite literally, losing it.

And Joker had a front row seat to the impending panic attack. You were neck deep in your computer, fingers typing away at the speed of sound, and you hardly took the time to eat or take any breaks in between prep work.

Joker was reminded of the first week he invaded your life. You had the same mindset; nothing but work on the brain. Somehow you forgot a wanted fugitive was in your home then and ironically, now.

He missed those days when it was just you and him cooped up indoors.

No distractions. No drama.

Today was the opposite. You were on a conference call with who knows who discussing something that went over his head. He could appreciate the entire event better after catching a glimpse of the behind-the-scenes effort needed to make it all happen.

“No. No, I requested an hour presentation months ago..” You dug through a folder with papers until one held the info you needed. “Ma’am, I think I have higher priority over a completed web series. Let’s be real.”

Joker sat back on the couch to watch his Bunny stand up for herself.

He enjoyed your stubborn pouts when the person on the phone said something stupid. He treated the ordeal as if it were a blockbuster movie and not your carefully thought-out plans unraveling at the seams. He understood firsthand how it felt, however; you managed to always turn things around.

You made arguing with someone on the phone entertaining, or rather J was just infatuated with you. He secretly loved when you were angry, just not at him.

You were a pretty thing regardless of your mood.

Times like this, Joker was reminded of just how lucky he was to have met you. How did he survive for so long without your light in his life? He didn’t, that’s how.

He was still daydreaming when you ended the call and let out a deep spiritual sigh. You wanted to count to ten and scream at number four.

Then you spotted your lover staring at you with that dopey look you had grown to love. You wished you could reciprocate that feeling. Hopefully Joker knew how much you cared about him without saying those magical three words.

For now, you could give him an excuse for ruining his cuddle time.

“Sorry, the event manager couldn't find my invoice and threatened to take me off the schedule—a week before the con! I feel like everything is going wrong for no reason.” you sighed.

You groaned all way over to Joker’s lap where he yanked you down to restore your previous seat.

The giant tv on the wall was muted with the picture still going. Neither of you could remember what y’all were watching before being interrupted.

Joker could care less. You weren’t paying it any attention anyways and Joker was thankful since his most recent misdeed was currently being broadcasted on the breaking news.

His goons were swift with their security reports. You had another episode at your publisher’s office and a certain Thomas J. Ford was the trigger. Joker didn’t need to know the details. In fact, all J knew was that you came home with dried tears on your face and way too quiet to be considered fine.

He got you cleaned up, fed, and tucked into bed before he did what he did best.

Create chaos.

And now the news was airing the fool’s unfortunate ‘car crash’ that led to his death.

Joker snorted. The fire would erase all the torture he inflicted on the man who dared to make his Goddess cry. Joker took pleasure hearing every cry of pain that Thomas created. He squealed like a pig the second Joker mentioned your name.

‘I didn’t mean anything by it, I swear! I’m so sorry.’

It was too late for apologizes. Joker knew men like Thomas would not learn. Hurting and harassing women was just a pass time to them. Joker took it upon himself to prevent this from ever happening again to anyone. You’d been through enough already. Joker proved he could be your silent protector. He would always protect you.

No amount of soap could remove the blood from his hands. He kissed the crown of your head while his tainted hands rubbed soothing shapes on your back.

You were nodding off from all of J’s soft touches but a faint buzzing from your phone, roused you back awake.

His eyes glanced at the device on the coffee table, “Leave it, Bun. It’s nothin.’” He should have known you wouldn’t listen to his orders. You never did.

“It could be Delilah with the VIP passes.”

“Who?” How did you memorize every person you spoke with? He lost count already.

“It doesn’t matter who, lemme see.” You squirmed in his hold that only tightened the more you rebelled. He did not want you turning around and your gaze landing on the tv, so he made up excuses.

“Aht aht. You promised to re-lax with meeeee. No phones, no plannin’ from either of us.”

You were quick with the side eye, “You can’t go an hour without planning something.” His scarred face cracked in a genuine smile from being called out. His brain never shut off. Joker was scheming right now.

“Do I really look like a guy with a plan?”

All you did was roll your eyes.

Joker moved slowly so you could feel his hands cup your face. “My Bunny’s been running like a chicken with her uhh.. head cuT off. I do have a plan if! you’re up for it.”

“Here we go” you started but Joker silenced you with a playful boop to your nose. He really had to stop doing that. It made you jump every time.

“Listennnn Bunny. You’ve been stressed lately, hm? So! I was thinK-ing.. I cash in on that err.. promise I made ya. You remember. The night ya neverrr forget?”

He smiled at your bashful reaction. “Yeah, my pretty girl remembers. Why don’tcha leave all the planning to me and leT me spoil ya. Prett-Y please?”

How could you deny J when he looked so irresistible? He forewent makeup today giving you a perfect view of the constellations of freckles that adorned his skin. Those vibrant eyes of his were like pools of emerald sucking you in. You could blindly trust this clown and that fact scared you tremendously.

“F-Fine but nothing too crazy. I still have to work you know.”

Joker made a funny noise while drumming his fingers down your back. “Mm, is flying ya out the state too crazy?”

You knew he was being serious by how he avoided eye contact with you. He burst out laughing seeing your troubled expression. No doubt, you were remembering his terrifying flying skills.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding sweetheart.” He purred. He was lying right through his teeth and the both of you knew it. Joker never did things halfway. Over the top and meticulously planned was his signature. “Sheesh, you really are stressed.” He mumbled to himself.

The steady downpour outside briefly caught his attention. Gotham City was saturated with rain and for once, Joker had no intention of wreaking havoc on the city. He wanted nothing more to stay indoors with his Light and pass the time together doing everything and nothing.

The simple act of holding you and watching the rain hit the glass roof was enough to satisfy J.

You called his name, hoping to regain his attention. And just like that, Joker’s intense green eyes were on you. “Do I have time to squeeze in a nap?” you shyly asked. That last business call really took a lot out of you and J took pity on the cute little yawns you tried to mask.

“Duh! My Goddess can sleep for as loooong as she wants. I won’t move a muscle.”

“Can you um...” your voice trailed off as your insecurities kicked in. Naturally, Joker noticed it.

He leaned his head down to urge you to speak up. “What was that, doll?” J had an idea of what you wanted judging by your hooded eyes, but he wanted to hear you say it.

A closed mouth would not get fed, or however the saying went.

“Can you keep r-rubbing my back? I-It feels good.” You blurted out. This man had done far more intimate acts with your body but asking him to rub your back is what made you flustered?

Quiet moments like this with J put a spotlight on his rare soft side. He was shockingly a great cuddler and he was always in tune with your needs. You couldn’t ask for a better partner.

Wait. Partner?

Your brain went into overdrive overthinking that one insignificant word. Partner. Is that how you viewed Joker? Did he feel the same?

He was obvious to your thoughts, but he could tell you were doing some heavy thinking. You were biting your poor lip raw. You couldn’t help stressing yourself out.

He chuckled while wordlessly obeying your request.

Joker took a deep breath, before he began moving his hands up and down your back in shapes that only he could decipher. Joker ran like a furnace, not like you minded. Your apartment ran a little cold during rainy mornings. The benefits of living in an old penthouse you assumed. At least having J around saved on your heating bill.

The steady beat of Joker’s heart was like a lullaby in your ear as you gradually fall asleep in his arms. There was no safer place in Gotham than here with him. You were dozing off in record time.

Oh, the trust you gave never failed to surprise him.

Despite your dark past, you opened up and let him see you. Laid bare, broken, and raw, he got to see it all. You let The Joker of all people, know you so intimately. It was the greatest honor.

Joker wanted to give you the world in return. His sweet Light, who took on so much weight on your too little shoulders.

You gave him permission to execute his plans, and his goons were on standby to make it happen. Joker put this off for way too long. He picked up his phone and quickly sent off a message.

‘We’re a go.’

How you managed to sleep through the countless door slams and frequent bustling throughout your apartment was a testament to just how exhausted you were.

Joker saw how much energy you were putting into the final preparations for GothCon but you were running yourself ragged doing so. You more than deserved a break. He planned to spoil you the night he drove you to Blüdhaven, yet outside interference ruined his plans.

Tonight’s reattempt was nowhere near the elaborate affair Joker originally had planned, but it’ll do. He promised you that he would not go too crazy.

He half listened.

In the end, your afternoon nap morphed into an evening one and the smell of something divine inevitably lured you awake. Your hair was all over the place (what possessed you not to wear a bonnet?) and droll was most likely dried on your chin. It was a good idea to freshen up but that smell was just too irresistible to ignore. The penthouse was dark and so was the kitchen as you sat up.

Your eyes were still adjusting but J was nowhere to be found. And he wouldn’t move a muscle, he said. “J?”

Your voice bounced off the vaulted ceilings. You secretly hoped he didn’t leave to go out and terrorize the city.

It wouldn’t be the first time he left you hanging without a goodbye. Regardless, you were hungry, and your stomach cried out, demanding that you find the source of the food you smelled.

The rainstorm had stopped, giving the city a reprieve for the night. Your sunroom’s glass doors were wide open, and you could see the balcony’s string lights casting a glow from your vantage point on the living room couch. What was Joker up to?

Without knowing the full picture, you knew your Prince of Crime was responsible.

You toed on a pair of house slippers and shuffled towards the balcony where the sight wiped the last dregs of sleep away.

“Tada!” Joker was standing in the middle of a picturesque romcom scene as proud as ever.

Your eyes did not know where to look.

Candles and the balcony’s string lights softened the gloomy Gotham City skyline in the background. Somehow Joker found a round dinner table and threw a crisp white tablecloth, more candles, and a vase of your favorite flowers on top of it.

You knew Morgana’s work from anywhere.

Her locally grown petals were scattered on the balcony, some being swept by the nighttime breeze. But the best part of all was Joker dressed in a cozy sweater and slacks. You never seen him look so... homey. He made you feel underdressed with your sleep tossed curls and frumpy sweats.

By how Joker stared at you, what you wore was the least of his concerns. You just woke up and he thought you looked heavenly.

“Do ya li-ke it, doll?” Joker walked over and wiped a tear from your cheek. You didn’t realize that you were crying. He didn’t mention it either.

“Your uh, dinner is gettin’ cold. Here.” Joker took your hand and guided you over to the table with the ease of a gentleman.

He let you sit and pushed you into the table with a low chuckle. You were speechless. Joker was a master organizer, but this looked like it should have taken a day to collaborate, not a couple of hours.

"How did you do all of this? I took a nap, right? I didn’t oversleep and skip a day?”

Joker smirked and lifted the metal covers off the plates. Your eyes widened at the steaming entrée that greeted you. Your stomach sang out in glee.

“Mmh. I’d be hungry too if my owner didn’t. Eat. All. Day.” Joker sent you a sharp glare for your oversight. You were working too hard and forgotten to eat. Again.

“Sorry.” you mumbled. Joker just rolled his eyes and gestured to the food. He didn’t have to tell you twice. You picked up a fork and dug in, and immediately cooed at the burst of flavor.

“Did you cook this?!”

“What? Shocked a white boy can cook?” you almost spat out your food at Joker’s comment. He wasn’t bothered and stabbed a vegetable with his fork, inspecting it closely. “If you must know, I had some uhh... assistance.” He flung the veg over the balcony edge while you weren’t looking.

You were too caught up in the moment to notice.

“Yeah, I can tell you called Morgana for flowers.” You smiled at the flower spread surrounding you. He grunted, giving away the answer. You were happy with Joker’s growth. He was learning, slowly but surely, how to interact with others. He still hated people; he just tolerated them for your sake.

It gave you the idea that he hired a chef. He surprised you that one time by cooking pancakes, but J said it himself, “at least I can feed myself without burning the apartment down."

There was no way he could have pulled off this fancy dinner on his own. “I didn't know you could this good.” you said, poking around for answers.

You did not need to know how many times Joker almost burned the food.

The private chef that he hired offered to cook the meal and give Joker all the credit but that wouldn’t do. J wanted you to eat something that he made, that he provided for you. It was a primal instinct he wanted to act on.

Joker just needed an expert to spot his work. The three hours and countless death threats to the chef were worth seeing your blinding smile with each bite you took.

You didn’t seem to notice the too charred vegetables or the grainy sauce, maybe you did and ate it anyway. Joker was happy to see you clear your plate, and he loved watching your childlike excitement as he brought out dessert.

“It's beautiful, J!” You almost didn’t want to eat the work of art.

Now this he had to come clean about. “I uhhh..I didn’t make this. Gotta leave some things to ahh, ex-perTs.”

You sank your spoon into the confit, smirking. “I know, J.” You knew your man didn’t have the patience to make such a confection.

He eyed your tongue darting out to collect the sugar from your lips. He almost didn’t hear your question. Almost.

“Aww, don’t worry about me doll. I can find something to do while you’re away. A robbery. A couple of murders. Messin’ with Bats..”

“I’m serious Joker. I don’t want you moping around the apartment or out causing chaos while I’m at Con.”

Joker had the right to look offended. “Me? I would never!”

“Moping around or being a menace?” You challenged.

J smiled into his bite of dessert. It was his turn to make you all hot and bothered. His moan of delight sounded too suggestive for a harmless dessert. Watching him lick his spoon clean felt like an X rated show. Joker and that devilish tongue of his...

You cleared your throat. “W-Whatever, you better not get caught while I’m gone.”

Joker hummed in the intimate air. “You ready for next week?” He regretted asking you the second you groaned and dropped your spoon.

“Yes? No? Physically I am, but there’s so much I want to say and not enough time to say it in! What if my fans hate my presentation?” Your lower lip wobbled just thinking about it.

The sight alone had Joker reacting to pacify it.

“Bunny. No. They won’t hate it. Uhh, remember? I’m your biggest fan? and I would love anything you present. Aht aht. I mean it. They didn’t see how you ‘perfected’ that video a bajillion time and practiced your speech till ya voice went hoarse. I have. Sooooo, I mean it when I say, they’ll love iT. I’ll kill anyone who doesn’t.” He grumbled the last sentence, yet you heard the honesty in his voice.

“You can’t go around murdering all my haters, J.”

He arched an eyebrow in denial. “Who says I can’t?”

Fair point. Not even you could stop Joker from a killing spree once he put his mind to it. Although you could try and compromise with the sadistic clown. “Promise me you won’t go awol?”

The request went right over J’s head. “What-everrrrr ya say, Bun. Now! Who’s ready for a distraction?” He spotted your empty dessert bowl and wanted to skip to tonight’s main event. He was excited to see your reaction.

You were curious when Joker helped you out of your seat, cut the lights—plunging the balcony into darkness before pulling you into his lap on the patio couch.

The nearby Fashion District usually offered up ample lighting, however tonight, its glow was nonexistent. You didn’t like the sea of darkness surrounding you. Joker instantly noticed you tensing up.

He kissed you on the cheek while pointing up at the night sky. “Watch.” He sent a quick text as you grew more confused.

“Watch what? It’s pitch black out.” Then you heard it. The first of many canons going off until color invaded the sky. It was a beautiful display of controlled chaos.

Fireworks in Gotham City.

Your eyes widened as each shell became more and more elaborate. You couldn’t tell where they were being shot from, but the fact that Joker organized them was touching.

You told him once in passing you missed the illegal firework shows back in Blüdhaven.

They were a big deal in your neighborhood growing up. Everyone pitched in money to buy the banned goods. Living in a dense city made setting them off virtually impossible and the police cracked down on the annual tradition harder each year until it ended altogether.

Joker ever so observant, must’ve planned to set off fireworks in Blüdhaven when the two of you visited. When he did things like this, you forgot all about the psychopathic murderer he truly was.

A dud went off and you took that time to lean back and kiss Joker. “Thank you.”

He pretended like it wasn’t a big deal and shrugged off your emotions bubbling up to the surface. You blinked back the happy tears and returned your gaze back to the colorful night sky.

Joker circled his arms around you, pleased at a successful mission.

He wanted you to view the fireworks in your childhood neighborhood all dolled up and pretty, but this was still a night you’ll never forget.

His Goddess tucked safely in his arms, well fed, and happy. What more could he ask for? He’d never forget this either.

The final fireworks seemed bigger than the sky itself.

A technicolor canon went off in an extravagant explosion that you knew cost an arm and leg. Definitely imported. One flame diverted its course and set a building alit, but you didn’t see that. Your eyes were glued to the finale canon that went off like a war zone before ending with you and J’s initials inside a heart.

You didn’t realize how quiet it was until the fireworks stopped. Gotham City was eerily quiet even for a weeknight.

The smell of sulfur was still heavy in the air as you turned around to face J.

“Joker that was...!” Your words died out as you locked eyes with your lover.

All the malice he gave the world melted from his eyes and the remains was pure adoration fixated on you. He looked possessed. High. And his scarred lips spreading into a lop-sided smile didn’t help clear his innocence.

“Have I told ya that before?” Joker mumbled.

You didn’t know what he was on about. You silently shook your head in the negative.

Joker’s smitten gaze hardened as he swallowed. You were shocked to see two extreme emotions alter his face so quickly, but you were patient to hear what this clown had to say.

“Tell me what?” You caressed his cheek, feeling the scar tissue with your thumb until J grabbed your hand. He didn’t break eye contact as he kissed each of your fingers.

“I.. I don’t think I’ll ever love someone the way I do you.”

You knew Joker was serious. He didn’t stress a single word. He said the most romantic confession and brushed it off the second he realized you were frozen in shock.

Joker knew you were healing and dropping love bombs wasn’t ideal—but he couldn’t help it! The phrase fell from his lips because it was the truth. He never felt this way before and if he didn’t say it aloud, he just might actually go insane.

He didn’t expect you to respond. His heart was fine with your silence because the single tear running down your cheek told him you felt the same.

For now, he could handle a little rejection even it wasn’t intentional. He stood with a flourish and offered you his hand to take.

“Whaddya say I get my Light to bed? No more stressin’ ya got it? I want these next few days to be... re-lax-ing.”

You would try, just to see Joker smiling the way he was right now— like all was right in the world, a world where his Light was the center axis.

True to Joker’s word, he kept you stress free the days leading up to GothCon.

He wouldn’t let you lift a finger. It was just like the first months with Joker hiding away in your apartment. Just the two of you against the world. You didn’t turn on the tv, Joker turned off his phone or rather, it was off when you were looking. He still had a criminal empire to run no matter how good his intentions were with his Bunny.

He thanked you for being naïve as he finalized his own preparations for the fated GothCon behind your back.

He would be busy as well. Everything had to go smoothly behind the scenes for your week to be successful. Which led him to the morning of.

A sunny day in Gotham was coveted as good luck. The curtains in the bedroom were drawn but that didn’t stop Joker from knowing what time it was. Your phone almost woke you up with an alarm. Not an ideal way to start a, no doubt, stressful day.

Joker had more pleasant ways to wake up his girl.

You were already lying on your back, looking so innocent in your slumber. Joker almost felt bad for doing this. Almost.

His sinister grin disappeared underneath the bedsheets until he arrived right where he needed to be. He slowly parted your thighs to reveal the goldmine between them. Joker licked his lips just thinking about the taste.

There was a reason why he nicknamed you sugar. He didn’t waste any time diving into his dessert.

You woke up with a jolt followed by a shudder running down your spine. The odd sensation wouldn’t go away until you felt pressure down there....

Despite it feeling absolutely amazing, your first instinct was to kick the offender away—that is, until worn calluses you knew from anywhere, rubbed soothing patterns on your warm skin to calm you down. In that same moment, you yanked the sheets back to reveal Joker’s wild bed head between your legs.

Joker was caught red handed and he didn’t care.

His green eyes were glazed over as he laved at your clit with a cheeky, “M’ning sweet thing. So sweet..”

It was like your pleasure finally registered. You fisted the sheets with a choked moan as it hit you like a tidal wave.

Joker’s encouraging groans sent little tremors throughout your cunt and he didn’t let you squirm away.

His hands kneaded your hips like an avid baker, keeping you right where he wanted you. He knew where to squeeze, how to use his tongue, and exactly when to flick your clit just right to make you explode.

Your poor bonnet slipped off with all the thrashing you were doing but Joker had you going through it. His venom green eyes pierced your soul as he sucked it right out of your body.

Even when you grew sensitive and began to tap out, Joker shook his head, not letting go of his tasty morsel. He loved feeling your thighs suffocating him as another powerful orgasm washed over you. He wasn’t stopping. If he died, then so be it.

“J, p-please..” you twitched when Joker licked your pussy like a lolly pop. You could already hear his stupid rhetoric jab, ‘how many licks does it take to get to the center?’

One, two...

You couldn’t take anymore and shoved Joker’s head away but it was too late.

Your third and final release got tangled up in your throat and it left your face all tingly as a result. Every inhale you took prolonged the throbbing inferno and if it were possible to see clearly, Joker’s face dripping with your juices would have really made you pass out.

He sat up and sucked his fingers clean while watching you fight your way back to Earth.

Your hand over your heart did a whole lotta nothing to calm it.

Everything was times a hundred on the sensory scale. Joker just smirked and helped you down by lightly drawing on your exposed skin with his pinky finger.

J knew you were back when you sank your nails into his hair. He needed to wash it if he had plans on going out. “What was that for?” You panted.

As if he needed a reason to bless you with a good morning, Joker gasped in faux disbelief. “Uhh? Today’s the day! You ready to meet your a-bore-ring fans?”

And just like that, your mood evaporated.

You groaned straight into a pillow until Joker snatched it away with a sly grin. “Need n’other distraction?” He used his fingers to ‘walk’ up your hip. You were tempted. You still couldn’t feel your legs...

But you refused to be afraid. “You can’t distract me forever, J.” You flung the covers back and wobbled onto your feet. “Easy there, doll.” Joker teased.

You ignored his wheezing laughter to check on the outfit you set out the night before.

You wanted to look your best to feel your best. Large crowds, screaming fans, and tight spaces; your poor social bar was going to be put to the test this week. Day one would set the mood for the entire event, and you wanted it to be perfect.

There was no room for error when the event would be highly documented via live streams and other media.

The colorful ensemble Joker helped pick out flowed through your fingers as you inspected for any possible spots. “I wish you could come with me.” you sighed and headed towards the bathroom. “Oh well.”

Joker snorted when you disappeared into the bathroom to begin getting ready. He was already twelve steps ahead of you.

You left Joker at the penthouse well before the sun started to rise. Today was a big day and there was no time to waste.

You arrived at your designated booth to the sight of Cindy and her new assistant, Noah, bustling around. Noah was the first to spot you and his sweet sigh of relief made you laugh as you handed him coffee.

“Bless you for this!” He downed the large cup in a matter of seconds. Sometimes Gen Z truly scared you.

Your concerned gaze shifted to Cindy who was talking to two men, pointing to where you taped off a natural line for fans to queue. They nodded and started setting up the rope barriers.

The last of your booth decor was being put into place while two helpers from Cindy’s office were arranging your books in a neat but approachable, display.

The meet and greet photo booth was taking shape nearby and you loved how the art you commissioned a fan to create turned out. It was all coming together.

All that was left was the people.

An officiant walked by an hour later brandishing a bullhorn. “Doors open in fifteen! Please be at your designated areas in fifteen minutes. Thank you.”

Cue your panic attack.

Cindy spotted it and ran over. She pressed your face with blotting paper and offered you a water bottle. “Y/n.... deep breaths, okay? These are your loyal fans. You were born ready for this. Natural smiles, calm demeanor, and a steady hand. Repeat that.”

“Repeat what?”

She pinched her nose, sighing.

Cindy wouldn’t be able to hover over you all morning; that was Noah’s job. The new intern would blend right in with the crowd’s demographic and offer you some moral support while Cindy took care of the networking aspect of things.

You could use all the support you could get to survive to the afternoon presentation.

Cindy was smart to schedule it later on in the day in an attempt to help build up some courage for you. It beat presenting bright and early like other seasoned GothCon headliners were doing.

It was all too much to think about. Then you remembered Cindy patiently waiting for a response.

“I’ll be fine.” You rehearsed your panic signals. Overwhelmed. I need a break. Abort. You could escape all by fiddling with your earrings or sharpie. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to those extremes.

You waved Cindy away and sat up tall, right as the announcer came over the convention center speakers welcoming everyone to this year’s GothCon.

Strangely enough, your face broke out into a genuine smile when curious, and ecstatic, fans started to pour into the building. Perhaps you would be fine after all.

You were handing a special Braille edition to a young girl when you spotted the next person in line. “Will!” you waved at the twelve-year old and his group of friends.

They were quite shocked when you stood up to hug William like a close friend.

It wasn’t time for meet and greets and you knew the line of fans were giving the preteen a mean jealous glare. “You made it!!” You beamed.

“Haha yeah.. Thanks for the scoring us the tickets btw. Your hands are healed!” Will clapped them, earning a laugh out of you.

So much had happened in your life since meeting the little Brit. Joker cutting your hands seemed like the least of your worries.

You held your silver sharpie like a wand. “Yes, all healed which means... do you really need another signed copy?”

Will took offense. He held up his special edition copy as if it explained itself. It did. There was only a few thousand floating around due to the hand painted edges and embossed crest on the sleek hardcover. Another collaboration with a talented fan of yours at work.

“Y/n, I’m hurt.” He didn’t have to call you out like that.

“Okay, okay.. I’ll sign your special edition, geez.” You took your time swooping the letters of your name and emphasizing the swirls that lead to your drawn heart. You loved your Avant Garde signature. No one could replicate it.

Will stood to the side as you signed his three friends copies and made light conversation.

They asked how you knew Will so closely and you boosted the boy’s ego by telling them the truth. Not everyone got to have their favorite author show up at their doorstep for dinner.

You hoped Will would overcome his social anxiety and flourish with his new friends. You saw so much of your younger self in him.

You handed your book back to Will’s friend. “Oh, don’t forget to stay for my segment! It’s after the meet and greet block.”

Noah cleared his throat as he walked by your booth, signaling you spent too much time with William and his friends. You winced and waved them off to greet the next fan in line.

You didn’t understand why you were so nervous earlier.

Interacting with your fans came naturally to you after the first few awkward minutes. Sure, you messed up a signature or two, no one cared as long as they got a signed copy.

Once the autograph line diminished a bit, coordinators guided you over to the big photo shoot area you had set up.

There the bulk of your nerves came out. Talking about your books and signing them was one thing, taking pictures was where you panicked. The constant flashing light did something to you mentally.

Case in point, a pair of twins were spouting their theories about a fourth WHB book when they surprised you by taking out their personal cell phones.

The prohibited flash caught you off guard and you jumped back, feeling an episode kicking in.

Water rushed in your ears, and it made their concerned, ‘are you okay? sound miles away. Did you nod? Did you touch your earring? Who knows. You needed a minute and neither Noah or Cindy was around to rescue you.

What if someone was filming and posted your panic attack on social media? Cindy’s PR team would murder you.. So many worries piled on and threatened to topple you over.

You had to be seeing things.

In your panic scan for an exit, your eyes caught the sight of green in the crowd. Like a light switch, your heartbeat calmed. The stacked noise of background conversations and music rushed back. You were above the water and steady on your feet.

That slight glimpse grounded you.

“Omg Y/n? Are you like, okay? I hope I didn’t offend you!” One of the twins said.

You sent her a reassuring smile. “I’m okay, the um.. flash must’ve—Hunter is very much alive. I can’t kill off the eye candy!”

That got them both to squealing (and diverted the curious eyes away from you) and just like that, the next person was stepping up for their twenty minutes. You hugged and exchanged pleasantries, but your mind was elsewhere.

You couldn’t shake the sight out of your head. Was Joker really in the crowd or were you seeing things? It wouldn’t be the first time you hallucinated him.

“—and I’m so happy you’re so inclusive with your stories! I just love you!”

This current fan was dressed in an elaborate cosplay from some manga you’ve seen once or twice. It was interesting to see how diverse people were with literature. Your novels were a far cry from comics, yet you still had a place here at GothCon.

Mind blowing. And more so, the turnout you got was insane.

Noah must’ve seen how you were struggling with this current fan.

They stuck to character and spoke just like them, making understanding them a bit of a challenge. Noah stepped in with his own bubbly persona.

“Hi! Love the cosplay girl, but I gotta wrap this up. Attention everyone! Please join us in 2A for our big surprise after lunch! Yes, Room 2A!”

He grabbed your hand and whisked you away before you could utter a single goodbye.

“Noah!” You weren’t upset, more like impressed.

He ushered you into the designated staff area in no time. “I am not missing out on lunch. Cindy promised catering.”

Both of you shared a look. “Of course she did.”

How the businesswoman got piping hot food from your favorite restaurant in the rush and madness of GothCon, the world may never know.

Your team actually sat down in an empty banquet room for lunch unlike other presenters. You saw one eating instant noodles in the staff hallway. It really paid to be organized.

In between bites of food, you rehearsed your upcoming speech and did a mock presentation without too many stutters.

“You’re overthinking it, Y/n. It’s perfect, I promise.” Lily, a content editor from Cindy’s Publisher house, spoke up. The team all nodded in agreement, but it wasn’t enough for you.

Cindy set her fork down before adding in her two cents. “I agree, Y/n. Don’t shoot for perfection.”

“Says the woman eating seared Halibut at a convention center.” You said with a groan. Your manager oozed perfection no matter the situation.

Cindy ignored the low chuckles floating around the room. “Just be your fun quirky self and you’ll be fine.”

Easy for her to say. She wasn’t the one expected to face thousands of people in person and even more who were logging on to stream the segment. You felt ready to puke, especially when an event coordinator popped in to get you prepped for the stage.

It was showtime whether you were ready or not.

Cindy was the only familiar face backstage with you as multiple stagehands ran around performing sound checks, lighting, giving cues to the current guest on stage, etc.

It was chaos and you were smack in the middle of it.

Why couldn’t this be done on a smaller stage? You quickly reminded yourself that you were considered big league now. People paid to gain admission to your stage slot. Lots of people that required a large banquet hall to hold, thus a big fancy stage.

You handed off your USB to a technician who disappeared inside a back room. Giant screens and professional effects were at work here, but it went all over your head. You were a ball of nerves ready to explode.

Cindy took pity on your fourth pacing circuit and stepped in your path.

“Y/n, you can do this. How many times have we practiced in my office?” Cindy frowned when you continued to pace, not hearing a word she said. “I’ll fetch you some water.” She sighed.

She really hoped the problems in your life didn’t ruin this once in a lifetime experience.

The second she stepped away, a tall man dressed in security garb walked past dragging you behind a large tote stack of equipment and out of sight of everyone backstage.

The cautionary hand over your mouth fell when he tugged his face mask down to show himself. There was no need; you recognized those eyes from anywhere.

“Joker?!” you hissed quietly. Thank God you weren’t hallucinating earlier!

He silenced you with a much-needed kiss. His hands were balmy cupping your face and you melted into the comfort J provided. You whined when he pulled away.

“Not so loud, Bunny.” He glanced around the totes to see if anyone heard your slip of the tongue.

The coast was clear for now. “I had to check on ya.” He wrapped you up in his arms and rocked you gently in that silly way of his. It drew a giggle from you, just as planned. “You’ll do great. I. Know. It. Hey. Look at me, mmh?”

You looked up on command. “There’s my girl. Go out there and have fun mkay?” He encouraged you to nod with him.

Both of you heard a stagehand calling your name—breaking the stolen moment you had with Joker.

He grumbled but kissed you one final time before pushing you back into the hustle and bustle. The stagehand sighed in relief seeing you reappear. There was no time to look for a missing presenter.

They handed you a mic and Cindy gave you a thumbs up as a vocal announcer welcomed you on stage.

You could hear the audience all riled up and excited. Was it too late to make a run for it? Joker’s words were the fuel to help you skip onto the stage.

Cindy clapped along like any proud manager would, but her eyes flickered over to the dimly lit corner from where you mysteriously emerged from.

What were you doing back there?

Now was not the time to wonder. The audience was chanting your name, and you bashfully stood in the spotlight, soaking up the attention.

Just like we rehearsed. Go out there and have fun. You were born ready for this.

Everyone’s words of encouragement pounded in your head. You exhaled and raised the mic to your lips.

“Hey hi and hello! Thank you all for your attendance! Wow, that sounds so academic. Am I a professor now?” Your natural rambling earned you a collective chuckle from the crowd. These were your fans and fellow readers who loved you unconditionally. Why were you worried?

You shook your head to reset the speech engrained in your head. “Anyhoooo. Let’s try that again. Hey hi and hello, welcome to GothCon!!”

The crowd roared their greeting, feeding off of your sudden burst of energy.

“Alright that’s more like it! We made it to GothCon loves and if you follow me on socials.... I promised a big, huuuuuge surprise. So! Let’s discuss our favorite handsome trio. The boys have been up to no good! I mean.. Bill might be dead!”

You paused for dramatic effect as girls screamed like mad. You paced the stage, giggling into the mic. You were known for being a troll and your fans loved it.

“And we cannot forget about Hunter finding the connection to our world. Who knows.. he might hunt down the reader who’s responsible for these senseless murders.” You looked directly into the main camera so the haters (mostly Harvey Dent) could get the message.

Your books were works of fiction despite it being the reader’s fault the in-book characters kept dying.

“Now I think all of you would love a fourth installment..” The audience held their breath knowing something big was coming. The suspense was growing just like you rehearsed. You were a romance/thriller author after all.

Someone in the crowd grew impatient and cried out, “OMG, I’m gunna die!”

“Please don’t.” You replied just as quickly. That earned you another collective laugh.

“Okay, I trolled you guys and gals for too long! My publisher house is partnering with The Wayne Enterprises... yeah that Wayne, to give us all what we’ve been craving.”

You cued for the video to begin. The banquet hall’s lighting dimmed as the giant screens started to play your promo.

The screen was stark white until it came alive with your distinct handwriting filling the screen. You worked with special effects and the graphic’s team to make this possible.

Your own hand wrote out, Will. Hunter. Bill: Official Script and the crowd went insane.

A clip of you and Wayne Enterprises production team brainstorming played on as it cut to show bullet points of potential actors you had in mind, teasers of storylines, and other goodies. The video was one big promo to announce the obvious. Your book series was green lit for film.

The announcement was an instant hit.

You were too busy watching your fans go berserk that you almost didn’t see the screen begin to glitch. Finally hearing the track skip made you react in your typical comical flair.

“Woah, technical difficulties in 2024? That’s wild. Can we get this troubleshooted backstage, please?”

You turned to the crowd to apologize when you noticed the horror on one girl's face in the front row. “What’s wrong?”

She pointed up at the screen. You turned back around to witness your worst nightmare unfolding.

The glitch was far worse than you imagined. Your movie promo was gone and recent pictures of you and Joker out and about, all of them depicting a red x crossing out J’s face, covered the screens. There were so many...

You and Joker at the grocery store. At an amusement park near the apartment. Leaving Euphoria that night in Atlanta. Walking around together in Martha’s Vineyard. Shopping at Tiffany’s...

Every private moment you spent with Joker was on display for everyone to see. Thankfully, his face wasn’t shown but the bloody red covering it made it clear that someone wanted him gone.

And you didn’t have to guess who was behind this hack. The last picture shown made your blood run cold.

You could never forget that day.

You could still feel the silk dress against your legs and the weight of the arm slung over your shoulders. The picture was taken the day your life changed forever. You sat at the VIP booth in Vincent’s restaurant cuddled up with his nephew, Tyler Bicchieri.

Your past self was smiling wide at the camera while the monster hidden in plain sight had his eyes firmly on you. His knowing grin sickened you.

Joker didn’t care about the consequences. He saw the video glitch out and instantly reacted. The same pictures that were delivered to the beach house (along with some new additions) were being aired out for the world to see. It was a mild warning before. Now it was a promise.

Your ex had declared war.

Joker pushed his way past the backstage crew and actual security trying to bring peace to the assembly. A voice announcer was reminding the guests to remain calm as they experienced technical difficulties.

Technicians were trying to shut down the video with little success. It was pure madness. The only thing on Joker’s mind was getting to you.

You were frozen on stage, too horrified to scream. Your eyes were glued to the message blinking on screen.

Can’t hide forever honeydew. I’ll see you soon.

Joker radioed for Frost and the others to have the car ready as he picked you up bridal style and fled the scene.

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iaminfourthwing · 9 months ago

Text

The Generals Daughter

a/n: finally the first chapter is here and the next one is almost ready for upload. I apologize in advantage, because I am still a bloody beginner in terms of writing. still, enjoy!

Chapter I

Conscription day will forever be one of the deadliest every year, right before Threshing. Ever since the first time I witnessed this from afar I hate it with all my heart. All year I have the same “privilege”, how my father would call it, to watch the candidates, that passed the entrance exam six month prior, fall to their death. And those who survive the Parapet either graduate or going to get killed – due to other cadets or dragons. One wrong move and all you will be is dead meat.

Today is possibly my last day on earth. I have to cross the Parapet myself to get into the Riders Quadrant but according to the General, I will just do fine – I am a Melgren and I have ten years of training in my bones after all. I am still not so sure about this, but I have no say in this. Not anymore.

Somewhere in between these masses of candidates must be a certain other general daughter and I really fucking hope she survives this. Even though she doesn't look like she could kill a fly, I believe wholeheartedly in her. She is strong and if someone can do this, it's her, even if she doesn't knows it yet. I tried to talk to her mother but she wouldn't budge, nothing would change her mind. Even Mira tried it more than once and if the General isn't listening to her, then she won't listen to anyone.

The orders from my father five days ago were clear – wait till the end, when everyone else is done, then I'll cross the Parapet alone. On the other side at the entrance to the quadrant will wait a third year that'll bring me to formation into the Dragon Rotunda. Commandant Panchek is informed that I'll join the Quadrant and which wing.

And with that I am waiting, and waiting, and waiting.

I have a good spot to observe these kids, trying to survive this death trail and see some of them already fall. I don't understand how some of them want to become a rider after all. So many of them volunteer to join the quadrant while others don't have a choice, like me. Malek lingers at every possible corner and no one is safe from him. Having a dragon might be “thrilling”, how many officers describe it, but till you possibly get to this point you could be dead, or worse.

These dragons are terrifying, like that beast of a dragon my father bonded all those years ago, long before I was born.

The weather isn't in anyone’s favor today – the storm took a turn at some point. Even though the sunrise was beautiful, it left a bitter aftertaste as the dark clouds covered the sky. For some of them it was their last sunrise ever.

It's been more than two hours since the first one entered the Parapet and there aren't many candidates left. I make out a figure striking over the stones like they own this place and – did they just threw another candidate down?!

My heart starts racing, my breathing becomes uneven, and I feel like I'm having a panic attack. Shit, now?!

`Take a deep breath, Arya. You`ll do this alone, no one can throw you down and no one will interrupt you.’

I just really hope I`ll never have to meet this asshole. I may look tough and have more fighting experience than others, but those people are unpredictable. And I certainly don`t have my father’s signet to see if I could win a fight against him, so I really want to avoid this guy.

A knock on the door interrupts my train of thoughts and when I turn, one of the officers from infantry stands at the door. “It's time” is the only thing he says. Shit.

Around fifteen minutes later I find myself lingering at the edge of the Parapet. No one else is around, the officer walked away the moment, I stepped foot into the tower.

Only a few centimeters separate me and the abyss. Just a few centimeters left and then I'll be out in the open while the rain thankfully eases into a slight drizzle.

`Okay Arya – you`ve got this. Take a deep breath – and step forward.’

Well … it takes me about three minutes, with stumbling and cursing the shit out of every person that crosses my mind, to reach the other side and I am nearing the entry to the famous Riders Quadrant. Just like father told me, a third year is already waiting for me, looking annoyed. But it's not like he can disobey a direct order from above. “Finally, they are about to start” he grumbles. Hello to you too, grumpy, but I know better than to aggravate him, since he has a dragon that could incinerate me before I even have the chance to hide.

We make our way through the empty corridors of the college while I try to sort my thoughts. I really survived the Parapet and now I am allowed to call myself a cadet. Still alive and can't fucking believe I am now part of this hellhole. I already imagine the way the General will stand in his office and rant about how it was predictable that I would succeed. “She is a Melgren after all and it would have been a waste of time if she didn't survived.”

Faint voices in the distance interrupt my thoughts, which get louder with every step we take but before we can even walk out into the biggest courtyard one has ever seen, the chattering grows quiet.

“Three hundred and one of you have survived the Parapet to become-“

The third year, I have yet to know his name, and I interrupt Commandant Panchek, who stands on the dais in front of the cadets.

“I apologize, Commandant, but it's three hundred and two.”

There is a heavy silence that spreads over the rotunda. I stand behind the tall rider, most of the curious glances immediately find him, only a few of them spot me behind. Great.

#fourth wing #fourth wing x reader #iron flame #bodhi durran #xaden riorson #bodhi durran x oc #bodhi durran x reader

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mayasaurusss · 2 months ago

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Day thirty: Search for me in the night. Sweetpea masterlist

A/N: a few things. First, I have not yet watched the show, so this version of Rhiannon is what I gathered about her from other fics I've read. This might have some errors about her personality or the show all together. Secondly, I haven't proofread this :')

Contains: light smut, description of wounds, not proofread.

How much time has it been? One week? A month? Years? You don't even remember why you kept on following, but you know it's your only option, it's your duty. Your boots sink in puddles of water, grimed by mud and fallen leaves; the harsh cold autumn wind bends the trees and hits your face, making an uncomfortable feeling rise from the tip of your nose to the end of your cheeks. What the priest had told you was that there was something that you'd have to take care of, something that "Your kind surely knows how to handle". You hadn't liked how he said it. Still, you continue, searching and asking around for your target: a young woman with brown hair. That's all you knew about her, despite the fact that she was described as begin an outgoing person and that she had a mole on her right cheek.

You were closer to your target by now: during your travels you met a vendor, a woman who had pinpointed you to where the woman went, as well as telling you tales of the creature that roamed the forest in the dark dead of night. You knew nothing more than this, and you thought to yourself that "Maybe, next time that priest gives me a job to do, I'll ask for more details".

The road is winding, difficult to walk on through the slippery mud and vines poking at your legs. You are short out of breath, and the road just keeps on going. You have been walking on this hill inside the forest's heart for a while now, maybe twenty minutes, and the rain has begun to fall down on your body heavily, making your journey less than pleasant. If you only could, you'd fall to your knees and hit the ground, giving up on your research. But you can't, you won't. Just as you were about to give up, you see something in the distance: a path that unravels to an old manor, much bigger than any you've ever seen. It looks old, like it has been there for centuries, but has been well maintained through time. You can see the dancing reflection of fire from inside one of the rooms, giving you the urge to run inside and dry yourself in its warmth. But as much as you feel relieved to have found shelter, you know not of letting your guard down. No, the difficult part has just started.

You let five minutes pass, eyes vigilant to see if anything weird happens, before you make a bee line to the manor's door. You know on the heavy wood door one, two, three times before they're swung open. A brown eye peers at you, sizing you from head to toe. Whoever is behind the door is silent, waiting for you to talk first and tell them your troubles. "Good evening ma'am! I have-" you swallow your saliva, watching how the stranger's eye is suddenly very interested in your neck. "I am sorry to have disturbed you, but I've been caught by a storm. Is there any chance I could ask for shelter?".

As if just now understanding the meaning of your words, the stranger's eye lids up and you hear her voice for the first time. "Sure, come on in!".

The manor looks huge inside; darkness seeping into every corner, high walls that seem to continue on forever and a grand staircase that leads to the first floor. You are so awestruck in admiring the room that you don't notice the woman who has been standing near you all this time. "If I hadn't seen the strength of the storm outside, I would have thought that the only reason you came in was to take my home away from me!". You feel the heat of embarrassment creeping on your cheeks and turn around to see the most beautiful woman you've ever seen smiling at you.

She has an aura to her person that makes you want to fall down and worship her. You are so enraptured by her beauty that you don't immediately notice the mole on her right cheek. Your target.

You quickly clear your throat, hoping she didn't notice your strange behaviors, and put on your facade quickly. "I am sorry miss, I hope I'm not too much of a bother" she simply hums, looking at your state, "Not at all, and please call me Rhiannon".

"Follow me" with that, you follow her to the first floor of the house, making your way through the darkness. "This manor is centuries old," she explains, "my family has never intended to install any light system, so during winter most of the rooms are dark. We'll have to walk using this" she lights a candlestick and takes your hand, walking you through the hallways. "Why don't you light some oil lamps then?" you can't see her but you hear her laugh, suddenly sounding much more sinister in the dark. "You never know. I wouldn't want my house to be set on fire, it's best if I can see it directly".

Finally she stops at a door and walks inside, leaving you in the dark hallway. You feel shivers run along your spine, the unnatural silence getting to your nerves. You are not sure if those whispers you hear is the wind hitting against the windows or a figment of your imagination. Sooner than you expected she comes back with fresh clothes and a towel. She roughly dries you off and hands you the clothes. "Dry yourself then get changed and come back to the living room. We wouldn't want you to get sick would we?".

She hands you the candlestick then walks away, heading to the living room once again. "Wait!" you call out to her, "Don't you need this?" you ask, gesturing to the candlestick. "Don't worry" she says "I can see in the dark just fine".

"Besides, you'll need it more than me" her voice gets lost inside the house's hallways, stopping abruptly. You enter inside the room she just came out of and change yourself quickly, trying to pay no mind to your crippling fear. When you come back down she's in the living room, resting on one of the armchairs. "About time you came down" she gestures to a chair she put beside the fire. "Sit down, dry yourself by the fire".

You sink on the armchair, feeling the warmth of the fire on your skin. "Have you eaten?" she asks, standing up and moving to walk to the kitchen. "I haven't" you hear rustling from the other room and she comes back minutes later with some cookies and hot tea. "I don't have anything else, I'm sorry" you just smile in return, not making any comment. You spend the evening chatting, listening to the story of her life and telling her yours. By the time the fire needs to be fed again, you fell asleep. You are so deep in your dreams that you fail to hear the scraping of a chair begin moving against the floor. As autumn and winter come, it's been harder and harder getting anything under her teeth. The storms are too strong, the snow too heavy and nothing that is alive walks those hills. She has been waiting a long time for this. She can already taste blood on her tongue, swirling inside of her mouth. From behind the chair she stands above you, bending over to reach for your neck. With one hand she supports your head while the other tightens on your shoulder. It looks so inviting, she thinks and bares her teeth, getting ready to bite down.

Just as she's about to sink her teeth in, you wake up. "R-Rhiannon? What's going on?" as if her skin was burnt, she quickly retreats. "I am sorry to have woken you up. I just wanted to tell you that I have a spare bedroom for you to sleep in. "You just hum groggily, "Actually, I'd rather sleep here by the fire. If that's okay with you?".

She tries to shove her anger down her throat, biting her lip. "Sure, rest well" she smiles and with that, disappears into the shadows.

The morning after you hear Rhiannon walk down the stairs, her steps heavy against the steps. "Good morning, have you slept well?" you just hum in response, stroking the sleep out of your eyes. "Has the storm passed?". Rhiannon looks outside to see rain pouring down and obscuring the windows, "Not yet. It's best if you stay here a bit more " you notice she's putting on a coat, and ask her "Are you going out?" .

"I need to buy some food if you stay here" she opens the door, letting the cold wind speed inside, "Don't steal any of my things! I'll know".

That last part sounded more threatening than you'd like, but you just wave at her goodbye and wait for the door to be closed again. As soon as you see her figure disappearing into the trees, you scour the mansion. You explore, study its hallways, search for any incriminating things that may pinpoint if she's indeed the target of your search. "A monster, that woman is" the priest had told you, "a leech. Your kind surely knows how to handle them".

A 'leech', a vampire. It was hard to believe that woman was one of them, but there was something to her that you knew was wrong. Curse the fact that you fell asleep yesterday's evening, who knows if she let a side of her sleep out of her control while you were sleeping. You search but don't find anything, only books containing her family's history. Before Rhiannon comes back, you make sure to hide the tools you had hid in your clothes in one of the corners of the house, in the first room Rhiannon had gone into. You hear the door open downstairs. "Shit!" you hide the stake in a closet underneath a pile of old clothes, before hurrying downstairs.

"Exploring much?" you hear Rhiannon ask you from the kitchen and you draw in a sharp breath, "Uhm, yeah sorry about it". "There's nothing to be sorry about. This place is big, it's best if you know it's halls". She has bought many things: meat, vegetables, bread and some sweets. "For today's afternoon snacks" she says, noticing at how you're eyeing the cookies, "Just a little treat for my sweet guest". You heat up a bit hearing how she called you. 'Sweet'. That is a good compliment, but slightly creepy coming from a suspected vampire.

You spend the afternoon watching the rain fall down, chatting and reading from Rhiannon's stash of books. "The storm seems to never stop" you mutter into your hand, watching the pools of water getting more and more full by the second. "You are unlucky. During this time of the year here, it always rains or snows". Great, you're trapped here with a stranger who presumably is a vampire with no way out.

"Oh, I get it".

As the days go on, the storm doesn't stop. With the rain falling down more and more harshly, Rhiannon becomes more and more furious. She lashes out at you out of the blue, inconsistently. You try to not let her words affect you because you know that they hold no real meaning behind them. You have noticed how she becomes paler by the day, and despite consuming an alarming amount of meat, barely cooked, she looks like a starving woman.

"I'll go to my study" she tells you, putting on a smile which you know it's just a fake to hide her distress.

"Don't follow me" it's all she says before disappearing into the manor's shadows. You move behind her, as quiet as a mouse, following her through the maze that is her home. Hallway after hallway, turn after turn you move inside the house, trying to keep up with her pace. Since you've been following her, it seems she has begun to move faster and faster, unnaturally.

The chase has been going on for so long that you think she's testing you, secretly just moving in circles to drive you mad. She stops abruptly in front of a door and enters the room, leaving the door open and the opportunity for you to quietly sneak behind.

You steal a glance at the room, sizing it up: dark, bigger than you'd thought, no escape other than the door.

Rhiannon is leaning on a desk covered in books and lit candles, mumbling something under her breath, distracted. If she truly is a vampire, this is the right moment to strike.

You grip the stake in your hand, shaking, a trickle of sweat falling from your brow. Every step you take is meticulously calculated, not one bit heavier than needed, not one second faster. You stalk, moving closer to your target, so close that you can taste the smell of her perfume on your tongue. Inadvertently, your attention is caught by a corner of the room. You notice how just that corner's stones have been painted sloppily, like whoever painted just gave up and left it to dry. It was coloured with the most deep red you've ever seen, beautifully haunting. A shame it seemed to start blackening under time's passage, forming clumps in the cracks between the bricks, following down to a stain on the floor.

You can vaguely make out the shape left by something that had been left there for a while, bloody hand prints tinting the gray stones.

"You are too slow, hunter" your blood runs cold and in an instant your body is slammed against one of the walls. Rhiannon is above you in mere seconds, gripping at your wrists with an inhuman strength. You can't make out her face, shrouded in darkness, but you can hear her breath, heavy and slow.

"Rhiannon! Let me go!" you struggle against her, trying to slip away from her grip. She grabs your stake and throws it away, "Why should I do that baby? You were the one that put yourself into this" she descends on you, breathing on your neck slowly, savoring the smell of your fear.

"Snooping around my stuff, spying on me..." you feel a cold sensation spread on your neck when you see her teeth bared, reflecting the candle lights.

'No... I want to live!' you use all your strength to kick her in the stomach, making her fall on the floor with a groan. You grab the stake and move to face her, ready for her next move.

"I thought you might be different!" you yell, readying your body for combat, "But you're just another blood sucking fiend!".

A bone chilling chuckle echoes in the dark, its owner's face made of shadows. "Just another blood sucking fiend? Oh baby" she delivers a strong blow to your chest, making the air escape from your lungs. Another blow on your jugular and you're falling on the floor, momentarily incapacitated.

She pushes you with her boot, holding you firmly between its sole and the floor.

"I am not just another blood sucking fiend. I have noticed how you look at me" she slowly descends down on you, stroking at your arms, silently admiring the strength behind them. "How you steal glances at me when you think I'm not looking" she squeezes one of your biceps with her hand, then twists the skin painfully, making a trickle of blood escape your veins.

"I bet you've thought about it for a long time" her hands reach for your neck and the stake. "How you've dreamt of taking me by the neck, sinking that thing you call a weapon in me, watching life fleet from me", the sexual innuendo is not lost to you and it makes heat travel up your body.

The stake is broken into billions of pieces in her hand, splinters falling on your face and in her flesh, faint traces of blood coloring her hand.

"But it didn't go as you planned, did it? Now you are the hunted one, and I will enjoy eating you alive".

She starts to kiss down on your jaw, taking time to take care of every patch of skin before her. "W-what are you doing?" she doesn't answer, too focused on traveling beyond the nape of your neck.

"You are enjoying this, aren't you?" her smirk is to die for, making you want to strip away your pride and just let her take you already. "As if" you mutter, trying to act cool, but the facade is broken as you feel her press teasingly against your crotch.

"Let's see about that" in a moment, your pants are stripped away, leaving you bare in front of your predator. "As far as I know about this, you're enjoying it way too much".

As she sinks her fingers deeply inside of you, she comes back up, leaning in to kiss you. Lips clash against one another, teeth bare and biting at the skin. She pushes her tongue past your lips, savoring every single one of your tastes. Meanwhile, her fingers speed up, hitting that spot inside of you that makes stars bloom behind your eyelids.

"Rhiannon!" you gasp, hugging her shoulders close to you. Her face is scrunched, focusing on the rhythm of her fingers plunging inside of you. You want her to talk to you, to tell you how good you've been for her, or how naughty you were. Rhiannon rolls her hips in the air, trying to mimic the feeling of trusting inside of you.

"You know what, my dear hunter?" she moves so that her hips rest against her hand, moving them in time with her trusts. "I think you don't put yourself in other's shoes enough", her breath fanning over your skin.

"Let me help" and as you reach your peak, she bites down on you, hard, drawing blood. She drinks from you, red blood tainting her lips. Her tongue pursues your blood, swirling it inside her mouth, savoring every single one of your tastes.

She sighs contentedly, feeling euphoric after finally feeding. "See, it wasn't so bad, was it?" she gives you a deadly smile. You notice how her blood is dripping from her wrist, almost seeping into your wound. Cold fear blooms in your chest, the reality of your situation setting in. She laughs, "Relax, love" letting go of your wrist.

"I'd love to turn you, but I'd much rather keep your blood warm for a little bit" you feel your heart sink, suddenly much more aware of the situation you are in. "Don't worry dear, it won't happen unless you ask me to" she stands up and brings you up with her, hugging your body close. "Come on, lover" she inhales your scent deeply, licking over the wound she gave you, "let's take this somewhere more comfortable".

#sweetpea x reader #rhiannon lewis x reader #halloween writing prompts #fictober

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yuzurujenn · 1 year ago

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[2023.10.30] JAPANDIGEST - The story of figure skating prince. Hanyu Yuzuru's GIFT

Japan is home to many talented artists and athletes, but few enjoy as much international popularity as Hanyu Yuzuru. With two Olympic gold medals and numerous competition victories under his belt, the 28-year-old figure skater from Sendai has made a name for himself worldwide. So it is not surprising that Hanyu continues to be on the ice and enjoys great recognition even after the end of his competitive career. (Text: Maria-Laura Mitsuoka)

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For many sports enthusiasts, Hanyu Yuzuru is and remains the prince of figure skating. He was the first Japanese skater to win the gold medal at the 2014 and 2018 Winter Olympics and was the first athlete in history to attempt the quadruple Axel (the most difficult jump to date) at the 2022 Beijing Winter Games. With numerous records, fantastic costumes and emotional choreographies, he ushered in a new era of figure skating and inspired many young athletes to emulate him.

Hanyu is one of Japan's most esteemed personalities not only because of his masterful technique, but also because of his artistic programs. The ice surface is his canvas, his body the brush with which he paints stories. With his emotional performances, he not only opens portals to distant worlds for the audience, but also elicits storms of enthusiasm. He is considered one of the most important benefactors, especially for northeastern Japan, because after the great Tohoku earthquake in 2011, in which large parts of the country were devastated by a tsunami, he gave strength and new hope to the people of Fukushima and his home prefecture of Miyagi.

Just a few months after the end of his competitive career in July 2022, Hanyu opened the show PROLOGUE, and in February 2023 he finally opened the next chapter of his life with his project GIFT in front of 35,000 spectators in the Tokyo Dome. Now the journey through Hanyu's artistic worlds is taking a new direction with the picture book of the same name, which will be published in December in collaboration with the mangaka group CLAMP, which is also famous in Germany. He will also begin his first Japanese tour in November entitled "RE_PRAY", in which he stylishly combines figure skating with the world of video games.

Q: You made history in February and performed a one-man show called GIFT for the first time in front of an audience of 35,000 people in the Tokyo Dome. That is also the name of your picture book. What is GIFT about?

I wanted to put all the experiences and things I value in my life into a story and present it to the audience as a gift. Even if it was just a tiny fragment, I wanted to pass on all my thoughts and words to the people who were watching me and needed support at that time. The feelings and words in this story may be mine, but I am sure that many other people share them with me.

Q: During the show, you used the expression "to give colour to the world." What did you mean by that?

I’m sure I’ve had many experiences throughout my life, and the meaning I attach to things has changed. For example, as a child, I never hated the rain or associated a cloudy sky with a gloomy feeling. But as I got older, rainy weather made me feel more melancholic, and when I looked at the cloudy sky, my heart grew heavier. To describe days that I had attached such meaning to, I used the word “colour.”

Q: For the show GIFT, you worked with MIKIKO, the choreographer of the Japanese pop group Perfume. What did you take away from the experience?

After meeting MIKIKO, my way of expressing myself and my perception of everyday life changed. Expression has always existed, and I realized that as soon as you communicate something, words and body language (which are used in figure skating) are also means of communication. I don’t have much confidence in my choice of words or my way of speaking, but I’ve come to believe that I can express myself through these very words. And I believe that there are feelings and thoughts that are particularly strongly conveyed through my figure skating. I think I feel the music more intensely than before, which makes it easier for me to express my feelings honestly. In order to convey my emotions even better, I want to continue working on my technique and learn many different forms of expression.

Q: Why did you choose CLAMP as a manga group to realize your project?

I really like CLAMP's works and am impressed by their worldview. The depiction of the background and characters is bubbling with emotion. Each of these depictions carries an encrypted message. Additionally, I like stories and images that don’t come about randomly but emerge from the situation. Therefore, I wanted my GIFT to be brought to paper by CLAMP, and I asked them to illustrate the book for me.

Q: This interview will certainly arouse the interest of many German readers. Do you have a final message for them?

I will continue to work hard to reach people abroad - including in Germany. And I will continue to channel my emotions into figure skating. Thank you very much for all the support!

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Profile and important achievements Hanyu Yuzuru was born on December 7, 1994 in Sendai (Miyagi Prefecture) and is considered one of the most successful figure skaters in the world. He won numerous national and international competitions in the men's singles discipline. He ended his competitive career on July 19, 2022.

2012-2015, 2020-2021: Japanese Champion 2013-2016: Winner of the Grand Prix Final 2014: Gold medal at the Winter Olympics in Sochi 2014, 2017: World Champion 2018: Gold medal at the Winter Olympics in Pyeongchang 2020: Winner of the Four Continents Championships 2022: Fourth at the Winter Olympics in Beijing

Source: JAPANDIGEST No.23 October 2023 issue, pg 16-18 https://www.japandigest.de/moderne-kultur/sport/hanyu-yuzuru-interview/

#hanyu yuzuru #yuzuru hanyu #羽生結弦 #figure skater #figure skating #japandigest #magazine #interview #machine #translation

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underforeversgrace · 2 years ago

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the electricity within me surrounds me

DannyMay 2023 Day 8: Electric Core AU

(No I'm not over a week late what are you talking about???)

title: the electricity within me surrounds me

words: 1456

Summary/Excerpt? I don't really know how to describe this one so here's a singular line: Why was he having so much trouble controlling the static today?

~~~~~~

The surge under his skin made him grimace, deftly hiding the sparks that fizzled from him. Why was he having so much trouble controlling the static today? It had been months since the Accident had fried him like an old fuse. He hadn't had to deal with this since the first month or so. Yet today every slight brush of fabric on skin or gentle contact with anything metal made the sparks dance down his skin.

At least it wasn't painful like it had been those first few weeks, trying to hide the aftershocks of surviving through fatal electrocution.

He forced himself to ignore it, to ignore the now-familiar tingle of the electricity always surging beneath his skin, the hypersensitivity to it in everything around him.

Danny could feel the electrical current in his body, the shock his body created for every pump of his heart, the pulses of his thoughts. That alone was overwhelming and the fact he could feel the electricity traveling in the walls, in the ceiling, in the powerlines, had nearly driven him mad in the beginning. So much new sensory input, combined with his new naturally heightened hearing and vision, had been too much.

The portal beneath his bed sounded like a scream he couldn't escape.

Like all his new… everything, he had gotten used to it. Mostly. He’d adjusted. Still, that didn’t mean he was happy with the fact he felt like he was constantly licking a battery.

Still, Danny struggled to focus on the math test in front of him as pulses ran down every nerve. He almost wished he had Sam or Tuck in this class with him, they’d let him cheat off of them (after all, it’s not like him cheating would cause the death of everyone he loved and tragedy of world-ending proportions, that’d be too insane even for him). He did his best, answering questions with hopefully some modicum of success. This teacher gave partial credit for at least trying, so it wouldn’t be a flat out zero like all of his other classes at this point.

When the bell finally rang and he turned in his definitely-a-solid-attempt of a test in, he headed for his locker and promptly banged his head against it in aggravation. Which, considering he was basically a live wire today and the locker was made of metal… was not one of his best ideas.

“Ouch!” He said, jerking away and glaring at the locker like it was Skulker fucking with him at 3am again.

“Hitting your head against solid objects tends to hurt, I’ve been told.” Sam said, leaning against the lockers with a grin on her face.

Danny just grumbled something incoherently under his breath.

“Is everything o- ow!” She asked, trying to pat his shoulder comfortingly and getting shocked for her efforts. “The hell?”

“It’s been like that all day,” Danny whined. He glanced around the hall and made sure no one was looking their way before turning his hand intangible and shoving it through the locker to get his book for next class. He was not interested in getting shocked anymore than he had to. You’d think having what seemed to be a ghostly heart of electricity would give him some immunity to static shock but, nope, still hurt.

“Think it has to do with the storm?” She asked, keeping her distance from him now.

He’d never admit how much it hurt him that she had to do that when all he wanted was comfort yet all he was able to do was hurt her if she got too close.

“Storm? What storm? It’s just raining.”

“You really do miss everything, don’t you?” She teased. “Big storm is expected later today, it’s all Lance Thunder has been talking about for the past three days.”

It took everything Danny had to keep from slamming his head against the locker again. “I’ve been busy!”

“I know. But…” she trailed off, frowning slightly as she thought. “The storm is getting worse. Maybe you should go home if it’s already affecting you this bad? There’s not lightning yet, but…”

He groaned. “But if there is, I’m basically the pointy metal bit on the top of skyscrapers.”

“Bingo.”

Figures. He’d made it through half the day without leaving a single class to fight ghosts but now his own body was forcing him from the school. “Let Tuck know?” He asked, resigned.

“And make sure we take notes to cover what you missed. I know the drill by now.”

…had he really left so much that there was a drill to follow?

“Thanks.” He grumbled, intangibly shoving his books back into his locker.

“What’re friends for?” She teased and moved to bump his shoulder with hers, but caught herself before she actually made contact.

“Killing each other on accident?” He shot back, grinning. As traumatic as dying was, he refused to fixate on it. Even as it was trying to claw its way back through his skin. Maybe this was denial, though. Or just being used to pain like he was in now was just something he was so used to he managed to separate himself from it.

…even more reasons to never tell Jazz about his accident, then, because he was sure she’d have some very big, very complicated psychology words to describe him with.

“You’re fine, shut up.” She rolled her eyes and laughed. “Get outta here.”

Danny threw her an exaggerated salute then ducked towards the bathroom, sequestering himself in the last stall as he listened to boys enter and leave for the next several minutes until the tardy bell for the next class rang.

He felt when the first crash of lightning pierced the air outside, shortly after the last student had left the bathroom. Felt it charge through the air for less than a moment before fizzling away again, despite also for some reason being able to tell it had struck miles away. There was no pain, mercifully, but he suddenly felt more hopped up than that one time the summer before the Accident when he and Tuck had each downed ten energy drinks (that had been a wild night).

Yeah, Sam was right, he needed to go, and he needed to go now. He easily shifted into Phantom, the electric rings around him seeming brighter and more erratic than ever before. He was up and out immediately after, keeping hold of his intangibility as rain and wind buffeted through him, an odd sensation of cold going through his being.

He felt the next strike of lightning, though he saw this one, too, as it struck directly through him, cracked and jagged through the sky. Again, the feeling of way too much caffeine, though multiplied tenfold as the lightning seemed to go through that odd little ball of power Danny always felt in his chest.

If he was feeling that through his intangibility, maybe he should steer clear of large power sources. Like his house. Or… any forms of man made electricity. He quickly turned, changing his direction and blasting towards the edge of town, where woods surrounded Amity Park.

By the time he made it there and landed - still intangible - he’d been struck three more times in ten minutes. He had definitely made the right choice in getting far from civilization. He was so hopped up on power that electricity cackled from his every footstep, pools of energy left behind like footprints as he walked.

Danny grinned as he walked. He was amazed the continuous direct shocks of lightning didn't hurt but he so was not about to complain.

He pulled off his gloves, morbid curiosity taking hold of him. The Lichtenberg figures danced on his hand, glowing with pure white light, pulsing to a beat Danny couldn’t identify.

When lightning again struck him, he simply laughed and threw his arms out wide, absorbing the energy that made his scars glow brighter.

Right now, he felt no pain, no doubt, no fear, none of the emotions that had plagued him since he hit that button. All he felt was power, was control over the power. For something he had been so weary of for so long, he felt no concern now. His entire being was electricity, was power. And Danny wanted to get closer to it, to the sky, to the energy in the clouds only he could control.

So, he did. He flew, he ensconced himself within the storm, laughing with every powerful surge that went through him, until he was so full of power it almost felt like he was made of it.

He couldn’t help but wonder, as energy surged and soared within him, is this what it feels like to be a god?

#grace writes #danny phantom #dannymay2023 #Dannymay #Electric core au #Again #The best I have to say for this #Is it is definitely words

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imtrashraccoon · 10 months ago

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Writing Patterns/First 10 Lines Tag Game

I discovered @emeraldhazeart 's post on this but I'm afraid I don't know who started this game. It looked fun though so I spent like an hour digging up old links and writing this out lol

Rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern!

I didn't realize I'd actually posted ten but here we go! Order is from oldest to newest and only includes the Undertale works I've posted on the internet.

Siren Call 2017 (Classic Timeline feat. my first Undertale OC. Currently abandoned but I have started to rewrite it.)

A catchy tune resonated from the speakers all over the grocery store.

The Hand We've Been Dealt 2019 on Quotev or 2023 on AO3 (Underfell Timeline feat. another OC. Still in progress.)

The sunset certainly was beautiful from up here.

Crazy & Cold 2023 (A Horrortale oneshot ten years post-surfacing.)

Most people probably would've called you crazy.

Nomadic Love 2023 (A post-Echotale oneshot.)

The sun glinted off the clear ocean waves as they lapped at the sandy shoreline before receding back into their bed.

THWBD: Rihanna Lives 2023 (Alternate timeline of The Hand We've Been Dealt.)

You walked carefully through the snow, cringing slightly from the loud crunching sound it made, interrupting the otherwise quiet winter morning.

The Nightmare of Apathy 2023 (An Undertale multiverse fic in progress.)

"Don't forget to refuel your lantern before you leave!"

Nightmare Cuddles 2023 (A semi-canon oneshot for The Nightmare of Apathy.)

The soft pitter patter of rain on the bay window had lulled you into a deep slumber hours ago but now had picked up into a torrential storm.

Have Some Empathy, Dear 2024 (An Undertale multiverse fic.)

It was a dreary day today, yet despite the overcast sky and brisk breeze that often whipped snow into your face, it was the nicest it had been in days.

The Shopping List 2024 (A Classic Timeline oneshot feat. Papyrus.)

With a heavy sigh, you shut your locker and locked it with the combination lock.

A Gentle Soldier 2024 (An Undertale multiverse oneshot.)

You were simple person, just doing what you could to get by in the world.

Conclusion: I am a very descriptive/visual writer and most of the time I start out my stories with describing where the characters are or what's going on. There are a few outliers of course but I generally go for this route and apparently have the entire time I've been writing Undertale fanfiction. I think there's always places I could improve of course but I can see that I have gotten better, even in the last couple of months.

#raccoons rambles #undertale #writeblr #it's kind of interesting how similar these are yet how there are subtle differences #there is a large gap between my first and second but i can assure you that i was still writing!#just...none of it really went anywhere #i definitely won't be posting any if most of it #it's all based on OC's i had anyways #maybe i'm weird but i don't think most people would like them #that's why i really only write reader inserts now

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raeuberprinzessin · 1 year ago

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Making Amends - Hazy - Prompt 18, Chapter 5

@felixmonth, @stainedglassm

Summary: For Felix Month 2021 - beware, the chapters are not in chronological order^^

When Felix loses a bet with his cousin, he has to make amends with Adrien’s friends. Well, at least this provides a good excuse to spent a lot of time with Adrien’s “very good friend”, a certain designer, who may or may not be described as tolerable … or cute. This may not be so bad. Yeah, not bad at all.

AO3 | Masterlist

Prompts: First | Previous | Next

Chapters: First | Previous | Next

"Nevertheless," continued Poirot, "in view of what has happened, the police there would like to have another look at the anonymous letter I received. I have said that you and I will go down to Andover at once."

An ear-piercing thunder outside the bay window made Felix jump. He looked up and realised to his surprise that he hadn't even noticed the dark clouds that had claimed the sky. When he had started reading The ABC Murders, one of his favourite Poirot novels by Agatha Christie, only a short while ago the sky had been a cerulean blue, dotted only by a few soft-looking clouds here and there. Now it seemed like the apocalypse had come, another great flood hell-bent on drowning all of Paris. The city lay almost abandoned in the darkness of the overcast sky, which was quite unusual for this hour. Strong winds ripped through streets and alleyways, jolting the shutters of the windows and shaking, no, nearly bending the trees lining the streets of the posh neighbourhood he lived in. The window pane was cold enough that his breath left a small spot on the glass. Another bolt of lightning illuminated the world outside the window for a few moments soon accompanied by its roaring thunder. Heavy drops of rain pounded against the window forming small rivulets as the water ran down the glass.

To be honest, it was the perfect weather for an afternoon reading session with his favourite detective novel. And still, the sudden change in weather didn't sit well with him.

Felix pulled out his phone to check the news. Maybe this was the result of an akuma attack? If he remembered correctly there had been an akuma with weather-based powers in the past. Weather Girl or Storm Witch or something like that. She, like practically every akuma victim, looked nearly as bad as every poor model who had to wear one of his uncle's creations. That was the one relevant information he took from Marinette's rant over text back then. The rant had started with her disappointment over her losing the chance to model with Adrien to the girl she babysat that day, although she was happy the girl had a good time. Felix deliberately forgot this detail and selectively remembered the complaint about the design of the one akuma he heard about before he caused three of them at the same time.

There had indeed been an akuma battle earlier but the victim hadn't possessed any weather powers. In the end, the hero duo won the battle with some safety pins. Felix was confident that the local heroine was well-versed in this item's utilisation.

The lights in the den suddenly turned on and Felix looked over to the door where his mother had just stepped into the room. “Felix, how often have I told you to turn on the lights and not read in the dark? You’re ruining your eyes by doing that,” she reprimanded him, but her voice was gentle. “I just noticed the storm when I heard the thunder. But thank you for turning on the lights,” he answered and looked out again, watching the spectacle for another minute before he wanted to return his attention to his novel.

“It’s really coming down now,” he heard his mother mutter. She had stepped to the window next to him and looked out with a frown. And as much as Felix would like to return to his book, he had a feeling that his mother actually wanted to talk to him about something. Of course, it could also be that she just didn't get the hint that the still-opened book in his lap was

“I just thought how a storm like this is the perfect weather for an afternoon with my favourite detective,” Felix told her and glanced back down to the pages of his novel. "The ABC Murders again?" she wanted to know. There was a slight smile on her lips when she looked at him, but Felix could read the worry in her eyes. He closed the book, showing her the cover to let her know that she was correct, and placed it next to himself.

"What's wrong? I can see that you are worried. Is it Gabriel? What did he do this time?" His mother shook her head. "No, Gabriel doesn't have anything to do with this. At least as far as I know. It's just …" She fell silent and turned fully to him.“Have you heard anything from Marinette?” she asked after a moment of silence.

Felix froze. Why would his mother ask about Marinette? He felt a bit queasy the more he mulled over her words. Was she just trying to make conversation? Or did she have another reason? There had been an akuma battle. Had his mother figured out who Ladybug was as well? Or did he give something away? He could have sworn he didn't change his behaviour after he found out. “Not since school today. Is there a reason you asked?” he carefully probed, trying to seem nonchalant about it. His mother turned back to the window and watched the storm, but her frown had deepened.

“I called Sabine earlier and asked her if we could get something delivered. Initially, she told me that the delivery man had to leave for an emergency, but right at that moment Marinette came back from babysitting the daughter of a friend and she said she would send Marinette to us,” she explained and finally sat down next to him.

“Mrs Cheng sent her daughter out into pandemonium?” he questioned in disbelief and gestured at the apocalyptic conditions outside. His mother shook her head. “That was before the storm. I guess Marinette had to take shelter when that akuma attacked. The battle took place right between the bakery and our building. And right after that, the thunderstorm started. I had hoped she might have sent you a message to let you know she would be late. But if she hasn’t …” His mother fell silent once more, visibly perturbed by the thought of a young teenager running an errand in a storm like this.

Felix picked up his phone again to take a look at his messaging app, but when he couldn't find a text or a voice message from his friend he tried to call her. He had no success, so he put his book down and stood up. “Felix? Where are you going?” He turned at the door back to his mother. “It’s not like Marinette to worry others. If she could, she would let us know she's late. So, I’ll go out to find her,” he declared.

“Felix, look outside! You can’t be serious! We can call the police-”

“I am perfectly serious, mother. If I’m not back or haven’t told you where I am in half an hour, you can still call the police. But I will go out and look for Marinette. After all, if anything happened to her it’s because you asked for a delivery when you could have sent someone. And I will also let Mrs. Cheng know not to spring more responsibilities on Marinette. She already seems to drown in all the burdens people just load on her.”

With that, he got a coat and decided with a look out another window against an umbrella and instead took a rain poncho to go out. The strong wind would have just ripped the umbrella from his hands.

Outside he could only see as far as a few meters. The rain came down heavy and shallow rivers ran down the streets. He tried to walk around at least the bigger puddles, but he couldn’t avoid them all and soon his feet felt wet and cold. He wasn't really angry and immediately regretted his harsh words. His mother had no idea about everything Marinette was juggling. It was his own worry that had made him react harsher than he usually would.

The streets were pretty empty. Most people probably took shelter when the akuma attacked and stayed there when the storm followed after, but he was pretty sure that wasn’t what Marinette had done. After being held up by the akuma she would have felt guilty for being late, so she would have tried to make it as fast as possible through the storm. The thought of her out here all alone gave him another freezing shiver which had nothing to do with the cold rain or the biting wind that found its way under his coat.

It only took ten minutes to find her. Felix had held his eyes open and when he found a person with black hair lying on the pavement he recognised the girl immediately. “Marinette?” Felix gently shook her shoulder and when she wouldn’t react he shook her harder. A groan stopped him. “Marinette?” he repeated with slight trepidation. “Felix?” she slurred and closed her eyes again. Felix looked at his phone to check the time. He could call an ambulance and wait with her, but he could bring her back to his apartment faster than the ambulance could be here. It was only a few minutes, he had taken longer to get here because he was searching and had to be sure since the visibility conditions were quite poor. But he could call his mother and have her call for a doctor and he could bring her to the apartment. By doing this he could try to get her warm and dry while waiting for a doctor.

Decision made he pulled the rain poncho off and draped it carefully over Marinette. After that he called his mother and let her know about his plan then he turned back to Marinette. Felix left the box with the bakery’s logo that had spilt next to her where it was. That stupid delivery was the reason she was in this state. Well, maybe one of the reasons. The pastries were soggy anyway, so nobody would eat them anymore.

The boy tried to pick up Marinette carefully. He made sure to cover her with the poncho as much as possible, so she would be protected from the rain for now. He also held her close to his chest in a desperate effort to share his remaining warmth with the sogging wet icy bundle in his arms as he made his way back to the apartment at a hurried pace.

“Felix?” he heard the girl in his arms rasp after he started walking back to his apartment. “Shhh, Marinette. Everything will be fine. I’ll bring you back to my apartment and we’ll get you dry and warm and comfy there, alright?” he reassured her, but he wasn’t sure whether she could hear him over the thunder and the rain pattering against the material of the poncho. Still, Marinette seemed to relax at his words. “Ev'ything's so hazy. 'don’ like it,” he heard her complain and he felt how she snuggled her face against his shoulder. “We will make the haze disappear,” he promised her after a moment he took to take a deep breath. Marinette just sighed and didn’t stir again until he was back at his building.

The lift couldn’t be fast enough and at the door, he rang the bell and knocked against the door. With his arms full of a bundle of unconscious designer he couldn’t unlock the door on his own. His mother opened, the worry and guilt written across her face. “You found her!” she exclaimed in relief. “Ines has prepared the guest bedroom for her. Ines? Can you help to get her out of her wet clothes? Felix, could you go and get some of your lounge attire? It’s probably still too big, but not as big as my clothes would be.”

Although Felix was loath to leave Marinette for even a second, he agreed that Marinette wouldn’t want him there when she was changed into dry clothes, so he left. In his wardrobe, he looked for the softest, comfiest clothes he had and soon returned with them to his mother. While he was waiting to be allowed back in he heard the bell ring and answered the door. It was the doctor his mother called. He allowed the woman in and led her to the bedroom. His mother came back out and waited with him in front of the door.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” she finally admitted. And Felix knew that. He wasn’t truly angry with his mother. Of course, she would assume it was fine if Marinette’s mother said so. He couldn’t blame this on her. He was just worried and his mother was there.

“I know,” he replied and offered her a hug which she accepted. “I’ll still need to have a serious talk with Marinette’s parents and with Marinette. She was lucky. Who knows if she would be as lucky the next time? She needs to take things slower or she needs someone to keep an eye on everything she does, so she won’t overdo herself.”

Actually, this wasn’t a bad idea. He was brilliant at planning and organising. Maybe Marinette would agree to have him manage her schedule. It would give him the perfect reason to spend more time with her as well. The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. He would approach Marinette about this when she felt better and not a moment earlier.

"Felix?" He looked away from the door to the guest room to his mother. "You're drenched. Go, take a hot bath or at least change into dry clothes as well. I'm sure Marinette wouldn't want you to get sick. The doctor is with her and Ines and I are here. It's going to be fine. You can take care of your own well-being now." She was right. Felix took a deep breath and let it go slowly. He felt the tension slowly leave his body and exhaustion settle in. If he took a bath, he would only fall asleep there, so he decided to just change his clothes. "Thank you, Mom," he croaked and turned away. The worry didn't leave him altogether, but the queasy feeling he had was barely there anymore only to return with a vengeance when he came back in lounge attire to see the doctor talk in a hushed and severe voice to his mother.

“-After enough rest, she should be fine,” the woman ended just as he arrived at the door. She couldn’t tell them more but would inform Marinette’s parents about the details. Felix wasn't satisfied with that, but there wasn't anything he could do. The doctor told them enough to properly take care of Marinette, any more information about her health would be reserved for her family. And after all, this was another way to let them know how dangerous the situation was, by a medical professional no less. He stepped into the room and sat down next to Marinette. No matter how tired he was, he wanted to assure himself of her health condition. Carefully he took her hand in his and gently stroked it. It pained him to see his fiery friend this vulnerable and fragile and he swore to himself, he would never allow anything like this to happen to her again. He would have to be there to prevent a repeat!

“Felix?” he heard Marinette mutter once more. Said boy felt his heart beat a bit faster and stronger. He changed his position so he sat down next to her on the bed and his fingers clasped her hand with a bit more force. “I’m here, Marinette. I’m with you.” The girl smiled a bit. “‘s not hazy an'more. ‘s comfy. Like promised,” she slurred and pulled his hand next to her face to snuggle it as she slipped back into sleep. Felix stayed right next to her on the bed until her parents arrived to bring her back home.

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #felix graham de vanily #felinette #felinette fanfic #felix month 2021 #marinette x felix #rich!marinette #felix redemption #bamf marinette #Hexxe: Making Amends

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