#you can't say you're still sad after have prayed here

[mytale0]

I personally think Iran go pray to the Nasir al-Mulk Mosque in Shiraz, mostly because it's pink

Slay gurl

[landossnorriss]

i see you - a series | ln x she.

Pairing: lando x she. Summary: a little post race comfort for our favourite papapya boy. lando norris we love you. part 2 here. Word Count: 1.1k A.N: just a little comfort fic, lando being lando

he'd had a bad race. there was no denying that. there were strategies that could have been cleaner and places that pace could have been picked up sure, but at the end of the day lando had had a bad race. everyone at the team knew that and there was going to be no one else that knew it more than lando. she was already waiting for the comments that came on social media and the flood of criticism for the man that she loved. it would be worth removing the apps from her phone for the next couple of weeks and she would encourage lando to do the same as soon as she got a hold of him too.

kicking about a bottle she had dropped she paced back and forth across the tiny space that lando called a driver room as she waited for him, her mind racing through each possibility over how his interviews would go and what state the press would send him back to her in. if he got through them fine he would have to get through debriefs where oscar was once again was celebrated more than he was and she could only pray that he didn't beat himself too much over the fact he was below oscar again.

hearing the door her head flew to the entrance way, her heart sinking as she caught sight of the sad smile that covered her loves face. this fucking sport, she knew that he loved it and he wouldn't give up racing till someone pried that car from his dead cold hands if he could help it but every day she was ready to whisk him away from it all and never let any of them near him again. grown man or not, she was sick of the toll each result took on him.

moving without saying anything lando didn't even have the energy to be pissed at himself as he wrapped his arms around her and tumbled them both onto the small excuse for a bed that they had shared on more than one occasion. right here, this was his happy place. this right here, made the rest of it seem like it was all nonsense.

"i drove like shit." he spoke into the quiet after a while, fingers tracing slowly up and down her spine as he finally looked down at her face, dreading seeing any signs of disappointment from her. he could take it from a lot of people, but not from her. she wasn't sure what he was looking for on her face, all she had to offer him was unfiltered adoration. "you didn't drive your best, that doesn't mean it was shit." she confirmed because she wouldn't lie to him. they both knew that he'd had a rough weekend and for all the smiles he had managed to muster this morning, he hadn't felt right since the hungary grand prix and she knew that he needed the summer break to shake it off. "it doesn't matter, i let him take another two points in the lead and i just....wins mean everything now and what if they're right, what if i'm a fraud and miami was nothing?"

"lan." she sighed into the room wondering if it was well poised questions or his own self deprecation habit that had gotten to him this time. "you've had a competitive car since miami, that's it, you're learning more and more each time you go out you know you are and you're human, shitty weekends happen they're going to happen again and you're going to deal with them. you're 24, you've got seasons ahead of you."

"oscar was ahead of me again. he's on his second season and he's already as good as me, what next year they're gunna make me driver two?"

"oscar was ahead for the last two races, he's a good driver but that doesn't take away from the fact you're an amazing driver, you're fighting with the greatest drivers. you can't control what's coming my love, all you can do is control how you react to what you have in the moment and make sure you're in the strongest position you can be in driving wise."

"i'm just...i'm tired of having to have excuses now, what if we come back and i'm still shit?"

"it's summer break now, let's worry about that when we're back, we will talk to zak and we'll no doubt have a million back and forths with jon." she hummed as she pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. "the next two weeks though? we're going to be lounging on the beaches and eating all the good food...i might even try some sushi, a little salmon." she smirked as she looked up at him, her boyfriends face immediately pulling into a grimace that made her laugh. "baby, that's disgusting! if you don't want to spend summer break with me just say it." lando groaned as he buried his face in the crook of her next with a small groan as he rolled on top of her fully. she would have complained about the smell currently rolling from him and his suit if she didn't know how much he needed this.

"oh please, you know i can't wait to spend two weeks with you and your boyfriend." she was all too happy to continue to taunt him, earning a scoff from lando despite the fact they would be spending a great amount of time with martin but she didn't mind that either, he was another person in landos life that made him happy and she would follow them around and keep them out of whatever trouble they got into if it meant she'd have her love back to himself some what. that was life with lando, she wasn't just going to stick around and deal with the fun parts and the glamour, she was here for all the anxiety and the self doubt that crept in too.

with the silence around them again she looked down to find lando's eyes closed where he still rested on her and she let her fingers find their way into his curls that were far more unruly than when he'd put his helmet on today. typical lando, leave him in one spot for more than thirty seconds and he was going to fall asleep. her need to pee and regain feeling in her left leg would wait till he'd had a decent amount or rest or someone came to interrupt them, whichever came first. if someone dared to interrupt them she might not be so nice about it. with her own stiffed yawn she let her own eyes fall closed as lando nuzzled himself in even further and she could hear the deep breaths that meant he was out for the count. "i love you lando norris, so damn much."

[berrieluv]

ʚ 𖦹₊˚. remus lupin x fem!reader c.w. — andrew garfield/hunter doohan remus lupin. it's just fluff, remus is so in love i need him so bad. lowercase intended. sorry if something doesn't make sense, english is not my first language.

summary: remus did well in hiding his werewolfiness from you for years, now in your new situationship as girlfriend-boyfriend he can't stand lying and hiding things from his girl. of course you already knew, because you're curious and you tend to sneak into places you shouldn't.

ʚ 𖦹₊˚.ʚ 𖦹₊˚.ʚ 𖦹₊˚.ʚ 𖦹₊˚.ʚ 𖦹₊˚.ʚ 𖦹₊˚.

remus.

remus lupin was right. and it wasn’t like a surprising, astonishing moment. he was always right, you were just maybe hoping for him to not be when he told you, sometimes, staying away from some things would be better.

so you were there. running, tears in your eyes and your heart beating dangerously fast.

remus. remus. remus.

it was still remus, but your mind couldn’t be far from the image you just saw.

it’s not his fault. it’s not him. he told you to stay away.

but you’ve known him for years, and it never seemed as such big thing for you to indulge further but the first month into your relationship you thought it was going to change. he had no reason anymore to sneak around, why would you be with someone you don’t fully trust. why would you be with someone if you would still try to sneak with someone else.

you held your body as soon as you reached your bed, hiding under your covers and rolling uncomfortable, suddenly everything felt too much, the once soft sheets felt hard and rough.

you didn’t mean to see, you didn’t mean to know that.

when remus didn’t reach for you the whole weekend you weren’t wondering, for the first time after a full moon, where was remus lupin, and you didn’t try to reach for him either.

remus, on the other hand, reached for your soft skin next to his bed, he held sirius hand as if it was yours, thinking, hoping, for you to care enough to ignore his pleads of staying away and reaching for him.

“lils says she haven’t left the dorm… her dorm” james corrected. they all could see remus eyes’ being to fill up with sadness and disappointment. “wonders if she feels sick. haven’t talk to her or marl either”

remus prayed and hoped for his body to be well enough to chase you soon. to ask you what was wrong, to care for you like the good boyfriend he wanted to be. it wasn’t long into your relationship and he was already failing.

he wondered if you were asking yourself if he cared about you, because where was him.

and you knew you had to get out of there. to shower, to eat, to assist to classes but your bed was the safest place you could think of right now. having people around felt wrong and forcing you to talk to them hurt.

you woke up early that monday. lily followed you into the girls shared bathroom and watched you as you both slowly started your routines.

“if you want to talk…” she started, trying to find the right words. not pretending to sound intrusive “i’m here. we’re here”

you nod and said nothing, you looked at her through the mirror and smile and she does it back.

but what exactly did you wanted to talk about. it wasn’t for you to tell, and you didn’t exactly know were you were standing. were you mad at remus for not telling you or were you scared of him.

near breakfast hour you walked there alone. a bit late, the time consumed by the thoughts if you should actually go. remus ran to you the moment he saw you and you froze in your place.

what if he wanted to touch you, what if he wanted to kiss you, what if he wanted to hug you.

you couldn’t even bring yourself to talk. social confrontation seeming hard.

“morning, luv” he smiled at you and you tried to do so but it seemed broken “are you alright?” are we alright?

“yes…” you managed, sounding exhausted, your voice came out like all the air was being taken away from your body. “long time no see?”

he chuckles with a sad smile. three days. that’s the most he has spent without his girl. not without you, but now, as his girlfriend, it felt different.

“missed you” he said. sad, not because it was a lie, or because he thought you didn’t miss him. but because he wanted to be honest with you in every aspect of his life. “so, so, much. haven’t spent this much time far from you”

“yes, you have” you quickly point out. referring to the days you weren't a couple, when he would take longer to come back to you. ashamed of his new scars, scared of the fact that he saw himself as a monster and terrified you could start to see it. "this is not near the longest we have been apart at the end of a month"

remus smiles sadly at you, and when he tries to step forward and kiss you, you really, really, don't mean to take a step back but you do it anyways and he frowns, looking at you with open arms.

"wha-what's wrong?"

"nothing" you look around, everyone's eyes felt focused in the two of you, but an honest look would tell you that... no one cared.

you felt so trapped inside this problem, it felt like the biggest thing in the world but you were the only one feeling the same.

"sorry, sorry, rem. i'm just. i feel... it's too much" he frowns "i don't, please don't touch me. not now."

"sure, darling"

that's the saddest you've ever hear him. even in his first years, when he was just getting used to that. he would never sound that devastated while he was with you.

"you want to have some, some breakfast or is it too much too?"

you knew he was hurt, and maybe he didn't mean to sound so harsh or sarcastic or mean, and you had no right to feel hurt when you were the one hurting him.

"breakfast sounds good" you say and start walking, knowing he was behind you. and knowing exactly that, you choose to sit between marlene and some griffindor next to her, leaving no sit for remus, who watched you hurt.

lily looked at him and shrugged, you avoided her gaze and felt marlene arm in your shoulders.

"i guess i deserve it" remus said, sitting back in his place next to sirius, in front of peter. "i ghosted for three days. my girlfriend, my girl, and i just ignored her. for three whole days. a whole weekend. and lily said she was in bed. she was feeling unwell and i was just feeling pity for myself"

"no, moony" peter started. "don't do that to yourself. s'not your fault"

"yes, no, but. even if it wasn't, she has no way of knowing. she has no, she doesn't know"

"doesn't make it your fault" james interferes.

"i should've come up with an excuse at least" he still tries "not leave her like that, guys i'm..." remus hides his face in his hands and starts to murmur "i'm in a relationship now. a serious relationship. with the girl of my dreams. the girl i've been in love since i was fourteen years old, guys" he takes his hands off his face and emphasizes "fourteen years old. i have her now, i have her now and i love her. i love us"

"moony..." sirius is stopped by remus.

"it is my fault, right?" remus looks at his friends "it is my fault for thinking i deserved better. for thinking i deserved to be happy"

"you do deserve happiness, remus" peter says again "because you are a really wonderful person. you just have to learn to deal better with some things. and maybe be more honest with your girl" remus chuckles at how that sounds. it was the first time someone said it out loud. someone who wasn't him. "you will do good. you both. you're meant to be"

"thanks, petey" remus says, standing from the table when everyone else did, breakfast time over. "i have to talk to my girl" he smiled and as soon as he did, the rest of the marauders did too.

remus really thought this would be easier. but here he was, in front of you. marlene and lily were kind enough to wait in the common room so the both of you could talk.

usually, everything happens in his room. it's a safer place for him, he saw your things around, the mess in marlene's side, the tidiness on lily's and the mix of both in yours. he thought he would feel like an intruder but he felt calm. he could smell your essence and the things you liked make him feel somehow home.

"remus..." you start again. "what is it?"

remus opened his mouth and closed it again. not knowing how to start.

"i love you"

"what?"

"i love you" he repeated again "i love you so much and i know you're mad at me. i know you want me far right now but i love you, so, so much, and it's killing me to know i made you feel unhappy"

"what?"

"darling, i love you. you want me to repeat it again? i will. i swear. i'll tell you i love you every second of the day but please, please, don't be mad at me. don't, don't flinch when i try to get close to you. don't be scared of me"

"i'm not" you finally say "i'm not scared of you. i'm not mad at you, remus, i just need... time"

"time?" he asks, not wanting to believe you, because you wanted to be far from him and he wanted nothing more than to be with you as much as he could before the next full moon. "you want to be away from me?"

"remus..."

"no. no, i get it. i get it, i'm too much. i'm too much and yet i'm not good enough"

"i do love you too, remus" you say but he shook his head. because how could you say that when you wanted time away from him. "no?"

"don't be mean, darling. don't do that to me. don't say you love me if you don't want me near you"

"i just, i just don't know how to deal with the fact that you're lying to me!" he frowns "i just don't know how to treat you now knowing you're a, knowing you obviously don't want me to know that you're a werewolf".

"you know?" he's in shook. "darling, i..."

"i'm sorry, remmy" you start, tears meeting your eyes but you feel like you're not allowed to cry "i know you don't want me to know but i couldn't help it"

"what do you mean you don't know how to treat me?"

"i mean i, i could just, i could act as i always do around you but, now that i know, around the full moons, would you, is it alright if i take care of you? do you want me to?"

remus feels himself start to breathe again. because he truly thought the worst, and you just wanted to be near him, not in his best times but in his worst ways too.

"i... i thought you wanted to break up with me. i thought you saw me as a monster"

you start to shake your head "no, no remmy, not a monster. never. you're my remmy. i do, i did got scared thought"

"of me?"

"of you... being a werewolf. when i saw you, back then, and you were full wolf and you... i'm sorry, rem, but you looked hideous"

he chuckled "you want me for my looks, darling?"

"kind of..." you joke, walking closer to him, hugging his torso and hiding your face in his chest.

"meanie"

"sorry, remmy. but i have a reputation to keep on, you know"

"i know. you are the prettiest girl at hogwarts. you deserve nothing but the prettiest boy"

"lucky me i have him, right? well, except once a month but if you want the beauty you'll have to deal with the beast, right?"

"you have the best of both worlds" he says, kissing your hair "you're the best of my world. you're my life"

he thought it was something lame to say in just a month into the relationship. but he spent so much time in love with you, he waited for years to have this, he would not waste any more seconds without saying this.

"wouldn't it be cool if i turn into an animagus and i'm like, a wolf too?"

"the coolest, darling"

[merilaurecus]

Companions reactions to finding out Modern!Tav can't return to Earth and is stuck in Faerûn for good

This was on my mind for a while. It's post-game, a while after the defeat of the Netherbrain but before the reunion party. The group is still together.

Gale (Professor Dekarios ending)

Already thinking about a spell that actually can do it.

Can't help but feel a little hopeless when even Elminster said it's not possible.

But this man won't give up until he really runs out of options (ambition™️).

One of the few companions that can offer you a place to stay.

Also will offer a hug or an evening together (certified Gale girlie here, if that was me I'd probably confess to him; not that night because I'd be too overwhelmed with leaving what I knew behind, but the next night I'd be like "fuck it, I had a feelings for him before anyway, might as well").

Compassionate and understanding, though he'd try to be around to make sure you are doing well enough not to do anything stupid (yes, I mean the worst option here beginning with the letter S).

Meal cooked with love is on his to-do list (homemade hundur sauce I'm looking at you).

Even when he's down in his research he'll look out for you from time to time.

Also doing the sad eyes when he thinks about the situation. When he was told it wasn't an option he was rather terrified.

Still he prepares a worst case scenario books to teach you stuff about Faerûn. Prays he doesn't have to ever use them.

Karlach (yeet into Avernus with Wyll)

Yo this girl will be your shoulder to cry on.

But she'll probably cry with you together.

She knows how it feels more than she'd like.

But she can leave Avernus from time to time, can't imagine being stuck there forever.

After crying together she'll remain strong for you, probably won't leave your side in fear of you doing something stupid too.

Can't help much with magic but cheering you up? You've got this. Long chats to drive your mind away from the situation about any topic other than that, cuddles, that sort of things.

Also helping you gain some physical strength so you can survive here.

Hugs. Hugs. And once again - hugs.

Will look out for you most of the time if she can't be near.

Astarion (vampire spawn in Baldur's Gate)

He won't even dare to make a joke about it.

I mean it.

He may not know being stuck in other world, but being a slave with no way out of it gives him an idea of what kind of situation you're in.

Won't be the cuddliest or shit, but will keep your Earth clothes in a good shape (tailor time). Just so you have something from there to last longer.

Much like the others, he'll look out for you in the night, but will do it his sneaky way. Just enough for him to know you're alright without you noticing.

He'll say how he feels about your situation in time though. May even offer a hug. He's not Karlach but after all the events he's more open to physical contact with his friends.

Ready to teach you more stuff about Faerûn if nothing works to get you back to Earth. Especially archery. And sneaking. And stealing.

Shadowheart (Selûnite edition)

Let's be honest, all of these people were torn apart from their homes in one way or another.

Shadowheart can relate to you, though her experience is different too.

She doesn't remember much, but you do.

Approaches you with good (but weak) wine and allows you to pour your misery out.

Tells you you have a place to stay with her parents (let's go the happy endings route).

She's not a wizard, but will keep an eye out for every piece of knowledge about travelling through different worlds.

You've been to Shadowfell and Avernus after all.

Will talk you out of sacrificing your memories to Shar. She knows all to well she'd take everything from your little desperate soul.

Flowers are her language of love.

Will also animal speech Scratch and the owlbear to play with you instead of her, telling them how bad you feel.

Soon you can't get them off you, but it does put a smile on your face.

When no one is looking she'll pray to Selûne to guide you your way back home.

Much like everyone she looks out for you, ready to teach you about Faerûn as well (if she hasn't already she'll teach you how to heal yourself when you're alone).

Lae'zel (Freeing Githyanki/Orpheus sacrificed)

At first she found your tears weak.

Then she realized what it would feel like not being able to return to her people.

She felt that to the gut.

She'll show you more tricks to make your enemies fall quick (lmao I rhymed this one).

Also will keep an eye out for a knowledge that could bring you back to Earth (you know, Githyanki and their tons of knowledge).

Not much talkative but you'll see understanding in her eyes soon enough.

If you're a sword fighter she'll give you one of her sharpest ones. Githyanki language of caring is either combat or weapons you know.

(Daddy) Halsin

He also remembers being somewhere else against his wishes, though as a slave.

A single thought of not seeing sun again if he was to stay in the Underdark forever gives him creeps.

You need a hug? A cuddle? He'll be there for you in either form you choose.

You're not escaping whittling and druidic magic lessons. Just so you can get your mind off things and also heal/defend yourself should the situation call for it.

Offers you a place to stay, you're welcome anytime.

Not much of a cook but will pick the finest berries and find the biggest honey comb in the forest.

Looks out for you in some small wildshape (raven or a squirrel probably) when you sneak in the night to cry alone. Should he see situation is bad will approach you in his usual bear form.

Strongly believes there's a way - you've done much that was thought to be impossible. Especially you, someone who had almost no previous experience with weapons or magic.

He's old and wise - will keep thinking about it in hopes some solution will remind itself.

Wyll (yeet into Avernus with Karlach)

Banished from his home he understands a bit of your situation.

Haven't been to other world with no way back, it was his decision to go to Avernus with Mommy K, but he knows Karlach and it helps him understand it.

Another shoulder you can cry one, the Blade does not judge.

Still you're fresh to Faerûn and he'll hate to see you dead before your time, so he'll offer you fencing lessons (I can hear that eyeroll, Lae'zel).

Asks about the dances back in your world and gladly learns them (belgijka jumpscare).

Looking out for you when you go somewhere alone (especially at night).

In Avernus he'll look for some knowledge about travels to different worlds. It's another plane of existence after all.

Jaheira, Minsc & Boo

Minsc is happy to have his friend here forever only to understand the situation after either Jaheira or Boo explains it to him.

Jaheira feels for you more than she'd like to show, but you'll see care in her eyes.

Just like Halsin she'll research her memory for anything that may allow you to return.

Minsc apologises to you after the scolding.

Won't help much tho, he'll be just an emotional support (together with Boo, of course).

Jaheira asks all the Harpers to keep an eye out for any book or a scroll related to your problem. Also will ask any of her old friends to do the same, even if it means her repaying that favour. She can still go fast when she wants to!

[s1m0nth3swag]

Kinktober 2024 - Gun Kink with Leon S. Kennedy

Hello hi its a little late but here's week 2 of kinktober

This one is slightly self indulgent because I love hot men with guns :)

If you like my writing and wanna support me a little, please visit my Ko-Fi! Thanks in advance <3

WARNINGS/ CONTENT INFO: NSFW, guns, slight degrading, Leon's not actually into Guns just the reader, GN!Reader

Sometimes, Leon hated his job. Actually, most times. He really hated it. Not only because of the everyday potential to literally die, but because the missions kept him away from home for so long. He used to be okay with that, it didn't matter to him, he used to not have anything that kept him at home - unless one counted his comfy bed. By now, he had you. The two of you had met a year or two after he started working for the DSO, and at first Leon really didn't want to get close to you. You were so sweet to him, so pure, he knew he would ruin you if he got too close. You on the other hand couldn't help but get closer. In your defence, Leon looked like a sad puppy whenever you saw him, and you just felt the need to help him out. Very much ‘I can fix him’ fashion. You had snaked your way into his heart, slowly but surely invaded his mind, until he just had to ask you out. Now you two were going on two years, had moved in with each other and even adopted a puppy. Every time he went on a mission, all he could think about was wanting to get back to you safe and in one piece, every time he got hurt he prayed to God it wouldn't leave an ugly scar - even though the ones he did have were cherished by you. You said they reminded you of the fact that he did come back, and that he would continue to do so.

Today, luckily, he only had to go into the office for some paperwork. Didn't mean he didn't at least dislike it, though. He wanted to spend his time cuddled up with you, pressing his lips against every piece of skin he could reach. The thought alone made him sigh. It was already so late, he bet you were cuddled up on the couch with your dog, watching whatever was on TV while waiting for him to come back. At least his salary allowed you an easy life. His day honestly kept dragging on, at least until his phone buzzed with a notification from you.

‘I got us something so we can try smth new :)’ it read, and Leon was quite puzzled. ‘What do you mean?’ He texts back, only to be left on read by you. Jesus, you and your weird ideas. Still, he can't help but work a little faster, uncaring if he suddenly works sloppy.

It's not that late as he steps back into your shared apartment, sighing heavily as he rids himself of his jacket, hanging it to the other ones before throwing off his shoes. He calls out for you, your puppy already tapping over to him to receive some cuddles. He picks up the small canine, making his way through the apartment to find you. At last, he arrives in the bedroom, seeing you sit at the edge of the bed, a literal gun in your hands.

“Whoa, easy there darling, what's that for?” Leon says, his voice laced with shock. He was always under the presumption that you were the last person to need a gun, especially since you had him for protection. “Don't be like that, it's a fake.” You huff, a grin on your lips as you look over at him, eyes practically sparkling. “Cool, isn't it?” You add, holding it out to him. Leon lets the small puppy down, stepping towards you so he could take the gun. He examines it for a moment, and now that he can see it up close, with his trained eyes, it's clear it's fake. He shakes his head slightly. “Still didn't answer what's it for.” He grumbles. “Us, duh. I figured it'd be… I dunno, intriguing.” You answer, one of your hands coming up to tug Leon closer by a belt loop. “...In the bedroom?” Leon clarifies, raising a brow once you nod. “Jesus you're crazy. You don't actually want me to point a gun at you? Or the other way around?” He scowls, clearly not into the idea. “No, no not like that.” You sigh. “More like… the thrill of a gun being involved. Plus you kinda… well you look hot handling them.” your voice is barely above a soft whisper at that point. It's embarrassing how attractive you think he is, even when just barely holding a prop gun. A little pathetic, to be honest.

“So… more like this?” Leon questions, using the barrel to tilt your chin up slightly. Your cheeks flush at the coldness of the metal, and the action alone makes your knees go weak. You're glad you're sitting down, but Leon notices nonetheless. After so long, he can basically read every single of your slightest movements. “You're actually into this.” He states with slight disbelief, trailing the gun down your throat. Your breath catches as you keep your gaze firmly on him. “Jesus…” Leon mutters, stepping to stand in front of you properly. He really isn't sure what to think of this, he's happy to give you your pleasure, but he still doesn't like the whole thing of desensitising you to him holding a literal weapon, no matter if this one is fake. Nonetheless, the look you give him is enough for him to continue. You want this, badly at that, and who is he to not give it to you?

Moments later Leon's got you laid over the bed, puppy thrown out and door locked for double measure. He's already rid you of your clothing, tracing the cold metal of the gun down your chest and abdomen. He's lazy with it, sometimes tracing lines, sometimes slight patterns, though with no particular motive other than watching you squirm. You don't want to beg just yet, you already feel pathetic enough like this, you don't need to give him the extra achievement of making you beg within minutes. So, Leon just does whatever, never getting close to where you so desperately want him to be. He lets the muzzle grace your thighs once, you whine at the sensation before he chuckles into your ear, retreating the gun back to your chest. “Lee…” you mutter with a soft pout, giving in. “please… just fuck me, yeah..? I've been good…” you hum, turning your head to press soft kisses against his jawline. “Just waited for you to ask, love.” Leon responds, ever so slowly tracing the gun down your body in a straight line. “You're so mean sometimes..” you grumble as he casually angles one of your legs to have better access.

You almost yelp as the metal glides against your entrance, teasing ever so slightly. “Leon..!” You huff, trying to shoot your boyfriend a glare, though your brain quickly focuses back on the feeling of the gun as Leon pushes it inside softly. “Taking it so well, aren't you?” He grins, pressing a kiss against your cheek as he slowly pushes it in fully, until the trigger guard also presses against your skin. You whine slightly, the metal quickly heating up from being inside you, still, the coldness from the start lingers in your mind. Leon rocks the gun into you for a while, watching your reactions in amusement. Usually, he'd enjoy watching you come undone on his dick, but honestly, this wasn't half bad either. You're awfully turned on by this whole situation, and Leon can't help but feel a little bit hungry about it. If he had known you get this turned on by guns, of all things, he would have brought some if his home to clean sometimes. “Such a slut, aren't you?” He teases, nipping at the skin of your neck slightly. You clench around the gun, your orgasm approaching faster than you'd like to admit. Leon reads all your little signs, trailing his free hand over your side in a featherlight touch, before gripping your hip, tugging you against him a bit more, pushing the gun a little more harshly, letting it rest inside for a moment. Meanwhile, his other hand trails to your core, working on it swiftly, with practiced movement that makes you see stars. You seriously can't help but cum, all of this was just too much for you in the best way possible. Leon huffs, pulling the gun out of you. “Made such a mess, baby.” He mumbles, placing kisses against your neck. “Don't think we need this thing for the next round, though.” He grins, casually throwing the gun on the ground before letting you catch your breath for round two.

[thefiery-phoenix]

YANDERE KIRIBAKU HEADCANONS

As we all know, Katsuki Bakugou, aka the deformed looking hedgehog with angry pomeranian problems is a VERY AGGRESSIVE and POSSESSIVE ASF Yandere, not to mention slightly delusional too 

Daddy shark on the other hand, is a very doting yandere and wants to provide the BEST of the BEST for their darling and absolutely LOVES to smother their darling with affection and all that other shit. He is also a very OVERPROTECTIVE one might I add

Having Kirishima around is actually helpful for you since whenever Katsuki gets moody (like, WHEN IS he NOT moody? Lol, I make sound like some moody teenager with anger issues. Oh wait...*insert surprised pikachu face here*) , he tends to take his anger out on his favorite toy, aka you, but lucky for you, Kirishima intervenes and makes him stop acting like a spoiled and bratty child. Kirishima knows how to handle the situation and might even make it easy for you to handle. The way he behaves, you almost forget that he's a yandere,  (NOTICE!! I said, ALMOST) until you try asking for ''certain things'' and you try escaping in which case, OH BOY, I PRAY for you, you're basically toast

It's quite obvious that boom boom boi and rock boi are the dominant ones in the relationship meaning, you're the sub! Congrats and have fun ;)

If they catch you escaping, well... good luck with dealing with their punishments since they can be pretty brutal.... They might say some mean things to you which will also be followed by a few slaps here and there and basically, doing whatever they want with you

But aftercare with them is like 5 star treatment. If you fall into a state of depression and overwhelming sadness that has the look of a puppy getting kicked, they won't be able to stand it since they love you to death and they care for you okay? You're THEIRS and they can't let their darling precious angel enter such a horrible state now, can they?

Aftercare is typically done by you getting squished like a tomato in between them where they'll whisper soothing and sweet things into your ears and try calming you the FREAK down and stroke your hair and give you head pats and massages and especially LOADS of hugs and everyone favourite things: CUDDLES!!!!! They might even let you watch a movie of your choice if you're feeling really down as hell

You'll love the aftercare these strong bois have in store for ya pal. After an escape punishment, Bakugou will still be pissed at you and leave you there but Kirishima will take care of you. He'll make excuses for Bakugou and comfort you. Bakugou will have calmed down by then and he isn't the type to show affection and all that most of the times anyways, so expect to be spoiled to DEATH the next day by him giving you breakfast in bed and he won't exactly apologize but actions speak louder than words, don't they?

They will not hesitate to kill ANYONE who comes in their way. PERIODT. They aren't picky anyways about who to kill. Remember that man who was giving you the wrong look? Eyeballs gouged out. Bones? broken into pieces. Limbs? Ripped apart and torn to shreds. Hotel? Trivago (Lol, I did it again, so proud of myself :) )

If Bakugou snaps, it'll be like some mad dog has finally bitten him, but don't say that to him if you want to go deaf for a whole day. Anywho, if he snaps, good luck dealing with the uncontrollable pomeranian and I offer you my best wishes to you and Kirishima. He won't snap out of it easily and it usually involves him losing control of his emotions where he will hit you and Kirishima. Of course Kirishima WILL protect you and not let you get hit. What sort of man would he be if he lets you get hurt?

Bakugou will eventually realize what he's doing and finally go back to normal and will end up actually apologizing for once in his life and things might go back to normal (Well, as normal as they have been when you've been kidnapped)

If Kirishima is the one to snap, Bakugou won't stop it for a bit. He will calm you down if things start getting too much. If he feels that Kirishima is going too far, he'll just give him a whack on the head that'll ''wake'' him up and all that. Kirishima will go back and forth between spoiling you two and calling himself despicable for two weeks until you and Bakugou do something. If both of them snap... well... you get yo runnin' shoes and hide the HECK away from them and you start getting depressed 

When they get to know about your mental health state, don't be surprised if you wake up in the morning surrounded with over 50+ oversized hoodies and your favorite things. The root of their affection comes from one word. Cuddles. They will cuddle all day and not want to move unless one of you gets hungry. They will give you kisses and shit too but cuddles are their forte

Once you develop Stockholm Syndrome, damn do these two spoil you. They let you get whatever cute outfit you want but they limit if it's more of a household outfit vs going out outfit. Their extremely dominant side comes out because you're timid or rebellious nature has died at this point

[hanaonesflower]

18++++, give ur iPod touch to your mom and go to bed.

You miss it. You miss being in between your man's legs to look up and see how desperate and pathetic he looks. Granted, he's going to have you bent over later with his cock so deep inside you, you can't run away and it will be your turn to beg for his mercy. But for now, for now the beginning is worth it.

You knock but don't wait for a response, with easy you turn the doorknob and enter his bedroom, without stopping to question why he hadn't locked it. His place is graciously big, being there feels like you're both playing house together. But earlier you got him in pissy mood and now he's taking some space from you. His words. But to your surprise yet delight, you find him sprawled out on his sheets, boxers hanging haphazardly around his right ankle, glassy sweat coats his forehead and he's fucking moaning out for you. While he pumps his wet cock eagerly.

He missed you coming in, until he jolts, his eye fly open to the sight of you kissing and licking the tip of leaking dick.

I'm sorry 'bout earlier, Ken, you say as you beam up at him. This is it, this is the exact moment you were praying for. He's clearly way too worked up to be stern with you. It's alright sweetheart, I wasn't mad at you, he huffs. Are you sure? You ask, your tongue slides down further, his thick cock heavy on your tongue but your mouth feels so empty without it. I'm so fucking sure baby, ah, keep going, you know exactly how to make me feel good.

And exactly as you thought how things would turn out after you stuff your throat with his dick and his jizz spills out your mouth. After you pump his cock which got him to moan in heat, after you fondle his balls and stuff them in your mouth too that you now has you folded over the edge of the bed. His cock drives into you with fever, meanwhile his thumb circles the rim of your ass and his tongue running itself down your back.

Is this good? Here let me make it up to you, he says with regret and made up guilt. You're so good to me baby girl, he groans proudly before flipping you over and throwing your leg over his shoulder. Now full access is granted and he does not wait a second longer to drill deeper and deepere into you. I made you sad? Sorry princess, are you... still sad? He looks at you with menacing eyes but speaks to you with the softest voice and fucks into you with rigor.

You shake your head no. Truly, you're not sad anymore. Aw, I was hoping you still are, so that I can fuck you for a little longer.

[irishmammonagenda]

Catholic MC gets sent into hell! Maybe it was clickbait!! (part three)!!!

introduction, part one, part two, part three (you are here)

content warnings: implied AFAB MC, they/them pronouns used, ambiguous ending? kinda short

The council room was once more enveloped in an awkward silence. Lucifer barely masks the distate in his eyes as MC utters the words.

Beel, stops munching on his snack, giving a sad but innocent (or as innocent as a demon can be) smile, "His name's Belphie... well...Belphegor but we call him Belphie...He's up in the human world right now for his exchange program...so you wont be seeing him I don't think."

MC nods absentmindedly, Lucifer, for being the Avatar of the Gays...(Pride joke) was acting kinda sus. (gay joke)...either way, this was fever dream inducing.

Simeon smiles awkwardly, something felt...off.

Lucifer clears his throat..."Anyway, Mammon will be responsible for taking care of you." He says practically thrusting Mammon in Mc's face, which made sense seeing as the tan demon in question was trying to book it.

"Nuhuh!"

"Yuhuh." Lucifer mutters under his breath.

"Nuhuh!" MC chimes in.

"Shut up both of you!" Satan says, knowing him having an 'outburst' would stress Lucifer out more. He wasn't actually annoyed, in fact, he was quite amused.

MC looks around at the Demons, Angels and very shady man that's definitely from France and thus cannot be trusted. (Solomon is in no way french, and is offended by that notion.)

"Okay...Sorry for freaking out earlier...." MC mumbles to the group embarassedly.

"You're fine! No harm was done" Diavolo reassures them, though Simeon still can't shake the feeling.

And that's fair enough, as up above, above the shining ever-present Devildom Moon, above the ever changing realm of the humans, above their fluffy clouds and shiny sun, in the Celestial realm a certain Archangel kept watch, watching his brothers, both estranged and un, the Devildom Prince and Butler, as well as the shadiest man he has ever met (who is not french apparently) and a small, fragile human.

He was omnipresent, a fly on the wall if you may, careful not to move lest the Prince or the Butler notice him. Shouldn't've prayed to him so much in such a short span of time, little lamb.

After all, we all have our skeletons in our closets, perhaps in our attics, too.

[vitzi9]

Pretty gifts

Joker X GN!Reader

TW/CW: reader is androgynous, murders, talking about kys, work in catering (it needs its own warning), reader curses a lot, mention of vomit, stalker, reader throws up, racism, Gotham is hell and fuck capitalism, blood, violence

tbh i'm a little sad bc nobody ever give their opinion on my works. I put another divider (like the red heart below) in the middle of the story, not really to separate as it's following directly but bc some people find my stories too long so it's like a checkpoint. So when you leave, you know where you were. (It's really long)

also the end is a little weird bc I have no idea if this fandom is still alive so, yeah :) if people are reading, I might continue it. Thing is some ppl find this Joker ugly so...

I hope you'll enjoy this. (19/02/2024) (17k)

You weren't weird by any mean, okay ? Life in Gotham is just really hard. You got harassed, robbed and assaulted more times than you can count. And each time by a new profile type ! Old, young or teen, it doesn't matter, everyone is desperate.

Some of your colleagues at work are prostituting themselves and you for sure considerate selling feet pictures.

That's how life is in Gotham.

But weird ? You stare at the angry man before you, unimpressed. You can't believe he called you weird as well as an incestuous result. You're neither of these. Fuck, how is weird and incestuous his first thought when insulting someone ? Like, he could've called you a fucker, a bitch... Anything !

Your aggressor, if you can even call him that after this, shows you his middle finger while walking background. Quickly though, he loses his balance and fall on the ground. Well, at least he didn't beat you up !

You already got assaulted for your money, which you don't even have, you got two jobs and barely reach the minimal wage. But at the end of the day they, well, stole the few you have, you know ? When you think about it, he strongly smelled like alcohol. That's probably why he failed his attempt.

Even stealing is death here. You never know who you're facing. Hell, just yesterday a guy was killed because he tried to assault some big chief of a mob. Someone with a clown face. TV says the man's limbs were still not all found.

Shit, getting killed by a clown must be mad humiliating too.

You sigh, trying to ease your tired traits by passing your hand on your face. At least the day is over, right ? Another day closer to death. You drag your suddenly much more heavier body on some few meters/yards more, silently praying that no one else will bother you.

Thankfully, your cries were heard. Pushing the old creaking door of the building, you rush to the mailbox. Never have you been comfortable staying long here. The door is only behind you and you don't know if someone is able to enter with bad intention.

Speaking of the devil...

No mail except for this weird card yet again. It's cardboard displaying a drawing of a joker, withdrawn from a poker package. It's certainly not the first time someone pull this kind of joke on you. Though, you have no idea who this is and it creeps you out a little. You turn the card to see if a message was left and sadly, (or not) you were right.

You've been trying to understand who this was for a long time now but in a big city like yours, with god knows who or what ? It's just impossible.

As always, you hate to think this because you don't want this creepy card to become part of your habit, a messy handwriting greets you in black ink.

"I'm everywhere in this city, no one can touch me yet some are fond of me."

You stopped school kind of early so your IQ is probably not high enough for you to understand that. Plus, you don't fucking want to.

You grab the card with you in order to throw it once at home and rush to the stairs (some says someone got killed in the elevator plus it's not working since months so you're not taking it anymore). Finally home. Your hallway still smells like piss and a deadly cold reign here (Nobody knows why). Two of the four bulb of the ceiling has burnt out and a faint static noise is resonating in the whole property.

This building is not even in a neighborhood that bad. But in Gotham, not that bad is still bad. Because bad is sleeping to the sound of gunshot and broken windows. While here, there's still these but not as often as in bad neighborhood. But you can add the moans hearable in the night in it as well.

Your building is really old though, which explains (partially) the bad state it's in.

Taking out the key off your pocket, you start to unlock the door. Unconsciously, your mind goes back to the card of the day. "I'm everywhere"... What's everywhere? There's air. But they specified 'in this city' so air might be too simple.

No one can touch me yet some are fond of me.

You can't touch air and you're not sure people are fond of it particularly. Like, air's fine. It's cool as fuck but are you fond of it ? No. Then what is it ?

You didn't even realize you were looking at the card again, your door wide open while standing in the middle of the hallway ridiculously. Slapping yourself mentally for being so careless, you enter and close the door and all your locks shut.

Some are fond of me, huh ?

In Gotham, what are people even fond of ? Misfortune you'd say. These fuckers love to see others suffer and even make sure they do by engaging in others people life.

But you don't know if that's really the answer. Damn, can't they just give you simple question? Or even better: stop giving you any ?

You drop your bag on the floor, slouching your shoulders and throwing yourself on the couch. Fuck, you hate your life. Why are you even here? You don't deserve this life. Nobody does !

Haphazardly moving your hand, you end up successfully grabbing the remote. You need to empty your mind, or have a background noise at least.

The screen lights up displaying you the newest information girl. The last man disappeared after he made the mistake of letting show his politic side. It's obvious everyone is corrupted here but the mystery in this story is ; who erased him ? It could be mob, politics themselves, everyone.

This city is lost.

The woman is talking about the incessant inflation and how numerous factories and business saw themselves forced to close for good. You just hope your business won't shut down, you need money. What if it does close, though ? You were already sweating trying to live with two jobs, but what if you end up jobless ?

It'll be impossible for you to pay anything. To keep your apartment. To eat. What are you supposed to do if this happens ? You already thought about that and all of your long reflection session always end up on one conclusion: kill yourself.

Because there's no way you're living without job in Gotham while being in the streets. You would have left the city if you had money or even family out there but it's not the case. So yeah, killing yourself that is.

Sure it looks a little extreme but isn't earth overpopulated anyway ?

It's better than being killed. At least, you choose your death ! But you're gonna hope this still won't happen. Up to now, your job is yours so taking such drastic measures won't be necessary. And you hope it'll stay this way.

Damn, you're depressed again. You drown out your worries by hiding your face in your couch's pillow. Man, what capitalism is doing to one.

You switch the channel without looking where your fingers pressed, this time a man is talking. He's saying something about a criminal and quoting every one of his crime. It was going crescendo, at first robbery, assault and burglary but just next to all of that was terrorism and mass murder.

You want to turn your head and watch the profile of this man but are too weak to move. So you simply listen closely to the man voice to get answers.

"Yes, he's a dangerous criminal and he's in town. He already break free from Arkham asylum twice now. If one of you see this man; do not engage, hide and call the police immediately. He is incredibly unstable and may not be alone. If you think you can win against him, you're wrong. He's a manipulative man and a mastermind. If you're seen by him, you better start to pray. Ends the man on a serious tone. Man, this guy knows how to reassure people...

-Indeed, a true monster. But please do not scare our audience. Batman was able to capture him twice, we'll be fine. The man chuckles but does not sound really honest. To answer all the questions you've been a lot to send us, we'll have the pleasure of meeting mister Harvey Dent here, chief of the police department to answer your worries. Harvey Dent ?"

And the voice switched to the other man. You like Harvey Dent. You like to think he's the only man in Gotham who's not corrupted. He's helping the citizens. Unlike that Wayne man. This guy could single-handedly resolve the poverty problem, but does he do it ? Of course not. He's rich after all, why should he care for bum like you ?

Harvey Dent is talking but you're not listening. All you know is that he's trying to ease the population. The men on TV are always saying the same things: empty promises. How the police is already taking care of the problem, that it'll be better soon. Like the police isn't already too fucking busy harassing the wrong people.

Harvey Dent is your last hope. The only man who can change things.

You deeply hope his promises aren't as empty as the other man before him. You turn off the TV and relax in the silence of your flat for a moment, breathing in the perfume impregnated in your couch.

There's screams outside. You can't tell if it's the neighbors or someone outside. Either way, you stand up feeling your eyelids getting heavier by each passing second.

But before leaving to your room, you stop in front of your window and stare outside for a moment. It's nighttime now. The city won't go to sleep, oh no, it's just waking up. The police can already be heard in the distance with its loud sirens. This city really is chaotic. It's just everywhere, you can't escape it. Touching it isn't even possible, you can't grasp it, nor resolve it completely; it's in the air. You can't fight against it. Nobody fights against it.

Fuck, it's like they're fond of it, here.

Chaos, it's scary when you think about it. Because you can't guess what's going to happen. There was a time when you thought that anarchists could be right but if anarchy looks like this, you don't want it anymore. You just want some peace and respect. But it seems too much to ask for Gotham.

You fucking hate chaos.

The next morning, your limbs were so sore you almost didn't make it on time to work. Your boss reprimanded you about your delay, pressuring you by recalling you the time one of your colleagues got fired for it. You were only late of something like one or two minutes but it didn't matter to him.

He only wanted to feel superior. He didn't even need real reasons to yell at you.

The restaurant wasn't packed. Only the usual rich families wanting to spend a pleasant day. They were here to eat breakfast. You try not to think too much about the fact that one single of their jewelry is equal to your salary.

The streets were alive; people running, cars honking. Your colleague hitting your shoulder to bring you back to earth, everything is normal.

"You think you can ask Mike to make another one ? she asks you with a sweet voice. The kid threw a tantrum. It's not salted enough and he hates sausages.

You lift up your eyes towards the crying kid in the back. Cold eyes stuck to his face. You're sure he specifically asked for sausage. You're the one who wrote down his order. And the salt ? Can't he just fucking put some himself?

-Don't question it. They're regulars. Plus, I don't think having beef with a kid is good for our reputation." Tells you your friend after seeing the death look you were giving him.

So you take the plate that looked absolutely perfect and delectable to bring it to Mike. Mike is an old man once passionate about cooking. Now he's forty three and stuck cooking eggs and toast to some crying kids.

"No fucking sausage and more salt please. you say, throwing the plate on the counter in a loud clatter. The man laughs at your anger and don't even need to ask to understand. 'Got it boss !' is your answer.

You lay your weight on the counter, back meeting the freezing temperature of it. Different smells invade your senses; fresh bread, warm oil and eggs. Well, lot of different smells were here as well but they're the one that really stuck out to you.

"You were late this morning right ? Did the client touched their plate ? You can eat it otherwise, it looks fine.

-Because it is, it was made by the best cook of Gotham after all.

The man laughs, mimicking someone blushing by putting his hands on his cheeks. He tells you that you're lying and that you're saying that to flatter him only. Mike had buzzed his hair a few months ago but they were back already; small rough curls mocking him.

You sigh and look back at the plate, it did look really fine. The kid hadn't even touched it ! The eggs and the bread were intact, left in the same state it was neatly put in earlier.

You spend your sweet time talking with Mike before your boss comes in infuriated, ordering you to come back at the front. And you're forced to do so. Grabbing a water jug on your way and putting on a fake smile, you walk towards a new family sitting so straight your back hurts just looking at them.

All of them laid down their menu and are waiting. You arrive, apologizing for the wait. 'Have you decided ?' you ask while putting the water on the table. The man takes the menu and start listing his orders without a smile nor even a look in your direction. The woman is busy keeping her children calm and asking them to calm down. The other tables are side-eyeing her while the husband doesn't even acknowledge his wife.

"Noted, you smile and turn your head to stare at the woman for her to start ordering.

She smiles awkwardly, and tells you her kids orders before ordering for herself. You thank them, "I'll be right back." and you leave to the kitchen. You sigh, scotch the orders on the wall, grabs the plate left for you to take and head back to the crying kid from earlier. The demon who ordered fucking sausage before saying he hated them.

But as soon as you place the plate before him with a smile, the kid slams his fists on the table resulting in his glass of water to splash on you and break on the floor. The mother gasps while the dad gives a slap in his son's head without even you registering the whole situation. Your clothes are completely soaked, you want to say something but his mother is sending daggers at you with her eyes and you know not to mess with this stupid fucking family.

Did he did it on purpose ? Yes. Are you gonna say something ? No.

"It's okay, I love children." you don't.

And you leave. Deeply humiliated. But you can't do anything. Because you're no one compared to them, they're gonna win. Always. Your friend asks if you're okay, you shrug. She's unable to question you further as she has to continue working. You head to the back in search of a broom.

The small closet is all the way behind the kitchen and you're already tired just thinking about it. Once you're in, you frenetically search for your item only for a shelf to fall apart behind you and destroy itself on the ground. You bite your lower lip with all your strength to retain you from crying and cursing the whole world.

It's okay, it's just a shelf. It's okay, you try to think but it's hard when it's not even noon and too much shit already happened to you.

You crouch down and start gathering everything you can when your eyes falls upon another one of these poker card. You frown and take it in your hands, examining it deeply. Uh, wow, okay. It's a little weird. You just happen to receive these daily in your mailbox and suddenly there's one here. Okay, totally normal.

You stand up, looking around you for an answer, trying to see if a camera is here somewhere. But nothing. So you turn the card to read the new message: You need one to live, I often rip it apart and yours is mine to steal. A heart ? you immediately think. You definitely need one to live and the sentence 'steal your heart' is kinda famous. But rip it apart ? Is it, like, a metaphor ? Glancing back quickly, you notice a small note left in the bottom right corner of the card. It reads: what a shitty shelf.

You laugh nervously, your breath getting stuck in your throat. What the actual fuck ? it's not even funny, what the hell ? Sorry for the fucking shelf ? They knew this was going to happen ? You definitely have to talk to someone.

You pass your hand on your face, rubbing it strongly as if to wake you up from a bad dream. Then you take the broom and head back.

Rushing to the kitchen, you accidentally pushes someone in your haste. You see Mike from afar and don't even need to approach him that you yell your question for everyone to hear:

"Mike, do you happen to play poker ?" the man faces you, his confused expression told it all, he didn't. And from the other's cook faces, they probably all thought that you were crazy. None of them looking guilty. But you'll investigate that later.

Not wasting any seconds, you almost run to the main room to find your friend. Luckily for you, she's cleaning glasses at the bar.

"Hey, is it yours ?" you're a little out of breath when showing her the joker card. Your friend simply shakes her head. When you asked her if she knew if one of your colleagues was playing poker, she shrugged and told you she didn't know with an apologetic smile.

"Why ? she asks.

-It's complicated." you say.

It can't be from the same person, right ? If it is anyway, that probably means one of your colleagues is the one putting these at your place. Which is a terrifying idea because you sure never gave your address to anyone here. Trying to see the bright side of it all, that means that you may know your 'joker'. And if that's the case, there's a way for you to stop them. It's better than the cards coming from a total stranger, because you can't act against them. You'll probably leave some clues at work to see and trap your joker.

The rest of the day was terribly hard. You were dying from the inside. Your tummy was growling like a beast; you did not have the time to eat. As you're juggling between two jobs, your boss thought that he had to exploit you as much as he could before you left. Because you're joining the bar, your second working place, at two pm.

"You're gonna leave in the middle of the day, when most people are coming. I'm losing money here, you see ?" he had said to you that day. Yeah, he does not give you any breaks because to him, you don't need one as you leave earlier. Of course you tried to negotiate and he was agreeing with you, on the condition that he pays you less.

"Mike, I'm leaving. you tell him, taking off your apron. Have a nice day, say hi to your kids for me." he smiles warmly to you, wave and you're out of the room in a quarter of seconds. You already bid goodbye to your friend so all you had to do now was to leave.

Putting on your jacket, your thoughts can't stop but think back about this other card you found. Yours is mine to steal. In what sense ? You could've thought it was some creepy flirting but it's just too much. You found these at home, at work. Everywhere. Are they going to rip your heart apart, too ? Are these threats ?

Hopping in the bus, you try to stay away from Gotham's crackhead as much as possible but it's hard when they're drunk and staring at you like they want to beat the shit out of you.

Fortunately, your stop arrives and you hurry to get out. It's 2:36 PM (14:36), the bar is not open yet but cleaning and organizing everything is part of your contract.

It's at five pm (17h) that you open the bar, standing behind your counter and waiting patiently for clients to arrive. You're happy Sean is here. He's a big man of 2m3 (~6'8), practices combat sport and knows how to handle different weapons. In a neighborhood like this, you're more than grateful to have him.

He's also the son of the owner. So it's really just the two of you here. The first persons starts entering the place and it quickly fills up entirely. It's quite a famous area, cops never comes here as mobs are doing their own laws. Sean puts on some background music you can't even hear anymore over the loud voices of the men laughing cavernously.

You're busy serving people's drinks. Moving as fast as you could but it being hard when your thoughts are plagued by cards and your mind is not here. Who's this joker man ?

The street lamp are all finally on, meaning it was past seven already. You didn't even see time pass, the incessant flirting and bickering of the men here enough to keep you from being alone with your thoughts.

"Thanks baby." says a young man when you give him his beer. He has a really bad scar going from his forehead to his lower lip. It's no surprise, you saw men with less limbs, other talking unknowns languages, some with sight or hearing completely lost. Sometimes normal people like you would come, women even but more rarely as the men here were true animals.

You wonder what type of people there is with you tonight. You're not naive enough to think all of them are innocent, in fact, you're sure 85% of your client here are criminals. This bar is situated apart from the city, in a corner more secluded with abandoned looking buildings and scary dark alleys you certainly don't want to visit at night, or even at day for that matter.

This place sucks.

Honestly, with your cards problem, you even considered engaging a spy to see who put these creepy notes in your mailbox. But two things prevented you to do so; first, you do not want to do business with criminals, second; there was a chance that your joker was one of your client.

Some of your clients here probably have mental illness as well, worsening their state. And maybe someone fixated on you and decided to follow you home. It'd be really awkward to engage a man to scare your joker away, only for him to be the same person you're trying to avoid.

But now this idea starts to disappear. You found a card at work after all, your boss is not stupid enough to let anyone break in. So the criminal track wasn't the one. It's one of your colleagues. There's just no way one of the bar's client could have followed you home and at the restaurant.

But on the other hand, it's difficult to see one of your colleagues following you home too. Because after working at the restaurant, you're not heading home right away. You're working here. Is it possible they waited outside until you finished ?

"A whisky for me." is what tears you away from your misery.

You do not look up, instead turning your back to him and reaching the shelves to search for the bottle. You grab a glass, throwing ice cubes in it and pouring the harsh liquid in. You then slide it to him, he nods and drink a first long gulp.

You follow his arm to his face before blocking on it. It's a man with a skin so pale it's getting worrying. His eye bag are terribly dark that you thought he had put black eye-shadow on them. And for a second, you truly thought it was the case. He had really bad scars going from each corner of his lips up to his cheeks, like a badly drawn smile. In the small crevices of his scarred skin, there was faint white and red paint, or make-up that did not left during shower. Is he like, a mime or a clown ? He looks like he haven't showered for a while, no judgements or anything, but his green hair are greasy.

He continues to savor his drink quietly while you're here, astonished by such weird scars. You saw scars, a lot of them. But they all looked accidental, caused by self defense or anything. But his clearly looked volunteer. You could clearly see that the goal was to create some sick form of smile, whether it is successful or not. What the hell happened to this guy ? Has he been tortured ? Did he make these to himself ?

'You got some nasty scars' you want to say. But the wicked grin he gives you is enough to make you gulp and smile awkwardly. Of course he saw you looking at him, you did not move an inch/millimeters. And he does not look like the type of guy to be nice.

"D'you like them ?

-Sorry ? you blinked.

-My scars. Do you like them ?

-Uh, yeah, yeah.

Fucking creepy. What the hell ? What did he do to have those ? Why is he even asking you this ? Why is he looking at you like that ?

-Do you want to know how I got them ?

-No." you answer at the mere second he ended his question, by pure fear he was going to destroy you. Or try to recreate those scars on you. Hey, you never know.

The man grins and chuckles at the quickness of your answer and stops talking for a while. Did you just escape death ? You think so.

He stopped drinking, though. You try to look busy but you're just organizing and disorganizing things on loop. Sean is having the time of his life chatting with the clients towards the tables area. But you, you're stuck behind the counter. You can't even count the times you got your ass slapped or got whistled. Plus, some of these guys often try to threaten you with knifes to make you give them free drinks.

It could've work if Sean wasn't here.

But it's comical in a sense. The morning, you're busy being the little dog, the little slave of these stuck rich people crying when their plate arrives one minute late, with prices on the menu so high it's clearly a scam for some eggs and bacon. With a ground so perfectly clean you could lick it.

And at night, you're here. Surrounded by criminals, drunkards and God knows who. With bad music taste rumbling in the background and place so dirty you could throw up and not even see it through the trash lingering on the ground. Well, in your defense, because you're the one cleaning, it was clean before. But everyone arrives with their disgusting shoes or bleeding and then they spill their drinks, and they fight and, yeah. At the end of the day, this place is a mess.

Your back is still facing the mime guy but you know he's staring at you. You know it because you can't stop shuddering. Your works are sure keeping you in touch with reality at least, you've seen both extreme.

"What's your name ?" You face him, afraid to offend this weirdo.

Telling him your name out of all the people ? Never. Smiling the best you can, you tell him your coworker name from the restaurant. He grins like a Cheshire cat, his smile accentuated by his prominent scars, nodding. You know better than to ask him back his name, he's probably, surely, a criminal. You don't have a death wish at the moment. You usually don't like to lie but this job at the bar taught you better.

-You know, he starts again and you pray he does not start to harass you with questions, he licks his lower lip before continuing. There's one thing I truly hate in this world. He pauses. You wanna know what ?

-Tell me. You say reluctantly, not wanting to anger him.

He lays one of his elbows on the counter, raising a brow and looking around him as if going to tell you a secret he wants no one else but you to know. Then, he looks at you again, a mysterious glint in his eyes.

-Liars.

Oh.

-They're such... he squints his eyes, moving his hand in the air to the flow of his thoughts. Vicious, little bitch, you know ? If we want to change things, he licks his lips, they're the first people that have to go. Don't you think ?

-Yes, I'm with you on that. you hurry to answer, nodding frenetically, feeling your blood run cold and a sweat cross your spine. Myself I really can't stand lying, you know ? Liars are really bad, they're manipulative and all. you were just trying to save your ass at this point. You received a lot of threats in your life, but this man right here ? There was something deeply wrong with him. He was fucking traumatizing you. You did not want to mess with him.

The only thing plaguing your thoughts is; does he know ? Does he know you lied about your name ? Because he specifically asked this question right after you presented yourself. Does he know ? No, no he doesn't. How is he supposed to know you ? You don't even have any name tag on.

The man chuckles deeply before you, licking very briefly his lips again; is that a tic ?

-What's his name ? he asks, looking straight to Sean, as if judging his soul. Does he have to stare at people like he wants to kill them all the time ?

Now you understand. He scared the shit out of you to ensure you wouldn't be lying to him. And now he's testing you. Why, you don't know. But you answer honestly this time. He smiles mischievously. Maybe that wasn't even his plan, maybe he's just deeply weird and unsettling. Maybe he doesn't even know you ever lied to him. Maybe you see things where there's none.

If there's one thing Gotham has taught you, it's to be wary of everyone.

-Are you fucking him ? he asks again, still looking at Sean laughing with the others.

-Why ? this thought never even crossed your mind before. Why would you fuck Sean ? He's nice, he's good looking but, you don't know, you wouldn't fuck him. You just, don't want to ? He's a friend.

-He's quite the tall guy. Are you fucking him ? he insists, ignoring completely your question.

Wow, that is getting incredibly uncomfortable and personal. You know you're supposed to entertain them and all but damn, this guy is killing you. You throw a glance in Sean's direction, hoping to catch his attention so he could help you but he's busy laughing with other clients.

-Why're looking at him ? I'm the one talking.

-I don't think this is appropriate, Sir. It's quite the personal questions you're asking me here. you laugh nervously, hoping to relax the mood but the man before you doesn't even react. Can I maybe offer you another drink ? It'll help...

-You got something to hide ? he licks his lips.

What. The. Fuck.

-I have to stay mysterious in order for you to come back, right ? you do not want this weirdo to come back, but that's the default sentence you usually say to avoid answering intimate questions.

But the make-up man does not insist, he gives you a cheeky grin.

-You want me to come back ? How flattering.

Most of the time, what you implies when saying this is that you want them to come back to consume more, so you have more money because you're kinda the bartender of this place. But this guy just plainly wants to fuck you up. Where's Sean when you need him the most ?

It's like no one around you is seeing you. They're all drinking their sadness, trauma, day away, not caring that a creepy guy is keeping you in his weird conversation you clearly do not want to participate in.

-Do you want to play a game with me ?

-I'm... Quite busy, actually. So...

But he knows you, now. He knows you're a bad little liar. Listening to you is now optional to him; he clearly doesn't care. The man stands up and you start to get scared. What is he going to do ? Is he going to hurt you ? Your hand is holding firmly the bat under the counter, fingers shaking with adrenaline. You never used a weapon before, less against someone. You never hurt someone, intentionally at least.

Sean, move your ass over here, now.

The man grins, eyes trailing your arms. He knows you're hiding something under this counter, but can he blame you ? You're surrounded by criminals, he's one himself ! It's impossible to know what to expect. Honestly, you're ready to scream to get attention and get helped. Even if there's high possibilities for a general fighting to start resulting in this poor bar to be destroyed.

But the man does not try to hurt you, he smiles, put his hands in his pocket and you now realize how well he's dressed for someone like him. A nice and well maintained purple suit.

"It makes me live and follow you at dark, keeps me up at night and makes you fall apart."

No...

-Who am I ?" He ends slowly, torturing you.

Your shoulders slouched down, tension leaving your hand on the bat. Your body become a big, useless puddle. Eyes as big as owl ones.

"I-I don't want to play. Your stutter had gave away your uneasy feeling, you step back, eyeing this man from head to toe.

You've come to despise those damn riddles. You don't want to hear more of them.

-But this one's so simple sweetheart. He mocks you. It starts with a pretty little O and ends with a N. I'm sure you'll find out.

You shake your head slowly; no, it's not simple, no, you don't want to find out, no, you don't fucking want to listen to him. But he simply chuckles, relatively amused by such a big reaction. Well, with that kind of huge revelation, you can't quite control yourself.

He's rummaging through his pocket, heart almost leaving you. What is he searching for ? A weapon ? What is he thinking ? But against all odds, the joker man takes out something so small you can't even see it behind his palm. You know he's doing it on purpose, hiding it from you to destroy you more, to see the look of surprise, fear or shock, or... Whatever, on your face.

-That's my business card, as a little... Reminder." You deeply doubt someone like him own any business, less business card. So what is he going to give you ?

He lays gently his hand on the counter right before you, not letting you see what he was hiding until he removed completely his hand, confirming your theory of him hiding it on purpose. You'd recognize them anytime. Your heart is beating faster, so fast you're scared it might explode. Nothing is written on the side you're staring at, you grab the cardboard, praying that it's just a crazy coincidence even if the drawing of the joker smiling stupidly on the card is taunting you.

But when you turn the card, the answer is given to you. For the first time since you've started to receive these.

-Obsession." you sigh, breath getting stuck in your throat. You were petrified. "You're... You're the joker man." you say in a shaky voice. Was it finally him ? Answers, you needed answers. But when you looked up, the man had disappeared. Leaving you with nothing but deep fear.

Silent tears slide on your cheeks, you bring your hand to your mouth in order to hide your muffles. Looking back at the card, you feel your legs give up under you when your real name is written in bold black letters in a bottom corner. Bile is rushing to your throat.

It's him. He's the one sending you these.

But you don't know him. You don't fucking know this man. And he's a criminal. You're fucked. Smiling like a madman, you start to laugh nervously, not realizing the situation. It's a joke, right ? You cough, progressively choking on your saliva. You bite your lower lip so hard it starts bleeding. You pray, you pray so hard this man isn't your stalker but you're lying to yourself. It's literally the worst case scenario that could happen.

You've never seen this man in your entire fucking life. Where does he even come from ? Why you ? Why him ? With his fucking creepy scars and fucking riddles. He knows your address ! Your name ! What else does he know ?

"You okay there ?" You nod without even looking at the person talking to you. You choke out a quick answer before rushing to the back towards the private toilet.

Immediately collapsing to the ground, you throw up everything you had in you, which wasn't a lot to begin with. You barely even ate anything. But you can't stop. You empty yourself, only vomiting water.

Sean finally comes get you, he rubs your back and help you get up. "What happened ?" He asks you.

"I don't fucking know." Is the only thing you can muster.

What you do know however, is that you're scared to go home.

"Are you heading home tonight ?" You ask him, voice hoarse. "Well, yeah" is his answer. So you asked him, begged him to come with you. Because you were horrified by the mere idea of going home alone. Maybe he would be here.

"You can come to mine if ya want." he offers. And you think that the guy from yesterday probably was right, you were weird. Why aren't you going to the cops, after all ? Probably because they'll think you're lying, that you're insane. A joker ? Harassing you with riddles ? You'll end up in a asylum in no time.

But wouldn't you be safer in a asylum ?

When Sean and you closed the bar, it was already well past one am. You didn't had the strength to redo this all over again tomorrow. But Sean was of good company, cheering you up and trying to ease your mind. Multiples times he tried to ask what was wrong, but he guessed it alone. "Was it that weird customer in purple ? The one with the suit ? I saw him lingering a really long time at the counter." You shrugged when he said that, completely worn out. What could he even do against him anyway ? The Joker man wasn't known to any of you. It was a lost cause.

Chatting with your friends wasn't even crossing your mind, you were terrified. The long walk to his apartment was as quiet as a church. What the fuck were you going to do now ? You were dead, yes, you were just dead at this point. What can you even do against some psycho following you around ? Fight back ? Yeah, if you have a death wish. You have to get out of this city, there's no other plan. But how ? And to go where ?

"We're here." says Sean. You've never been to his apartment's before, and to be honest, you would have preferred for it to happen in other circumstances. Trying to escape a criminal wasn't in this year plan.

Before you stood a tumbledown grey building, not much different from yours in reality. After all, Sean's not that rich, he's payed like you and live with his dad's payment. Though, you're pleasantly surprised to see the coziness of his place.

Warm lights were turned on, his sofa looked quite mellow and the general smell of the apartment was lovely. Not that you're judging him, but you wouldn't have thought he was such a clean guy. Because he's like, well, some kind of mafia man. So, yeah, he often smells like sweat and dirt himself, it's a surprise his place is so neat. Sure, it's damaged by humidity then and there, there's cracks in the walls but so do yours. The paint is peeling in some areas as well, you're used to it enough to not notice it. You take off your shoes, but keep your jacket. Probably in search of a safe feeling, maybe by fear of being vulnerable.

"You can sit on the couch, I'll order something.

You don't even have the will to eat right now, the ugly feeling everything entering your body might be threw back out instantly bothering you too much. However, you did sit on the couch. It smelt like him; you hated it. You were violating his property, his intimacy. You shouldn't be here.

But do you really have a choice ?

Sean is talking in the background, on the phone, yet, not a single word is understood by you. It's like he's speaking a whole new language. The red flowers on his TV stand keeps reminding you of the joker's card and his damn hat.

He hung up, that you heard, and left for another room. You hate to bother him, he probably only wanted to go home and sleep after a hard day but you messed up his plans. Grabbing the remote, you turn on the TV to empty your mind. You search for series, documentary or cartoons, only to be disappointed at the sight of obnoxious ads.

You end up watching the news, it being the sole channel not drowned in ads. A woman is speaking in a professional neutral voice, wearing a white shirt. She talks about the inflation killing our country before going onto her next subject; the outgrowing insecurity. The two preoccupation of the government, or at least, what they want you all to think about.

From what she says, a hold-up happened in a bank yesterday, in plain sight. (Why do they talk about it now, you don't now.) The building stank laughing gas. Only one man declares having seen the main suspect. Her chair slides to the side, leaving space for the video to appear and for the victim to testify; "Green disgusting hair and some fucked up clown make-up. That's the only thing I saw. He has no value, I'm telling you, criminals used to believe in things ! He has no respect for anyone, he killed his own team ! He's gonna come back for me, I'm sure of..." and he's erased from the screen at his outburst, for everyone to forget his trauma.

Did he say clown ?

"Indeed, the woman vigorously resumes, a faint smile on, was she laughing at the victim ? green hair and clown make-up is on brand today as everyone only talks about this mysterious criminal. After disappearing for months, the troublemaker is back in town and seems unstoppable. But has he truly ever gone away ?

It's not the same man, right ? No, no of course not. If he's a famous criminal, he has better things to do than harass insignificant useless civilians like you with stupid riddles. He robbed a bank ! Why would he even look in your direction? Fuck, what if he thinks you have some kind information? What if he think you're related to a criminal ? What if you are ?

-He calls himself Joker, always wears his clown make up and has a habit of wandering at night." The woman straightens her posture and clasps her hands together. "After yesterday's fiasco, the famous criminal already perpetrated his next attack. Earlier, at noon, the biggest hospital of the city was targeted. Cops were able to evacuate everyone urgently. Gotham is in shamble, people are afraid and angry. The police is trying to calm the crowds, in vain." Images are shown behind her of people running, yelling, stretchers evacuating and flashing cops car during her speech.

She continues talking but you stopped listening when finally a picture of the Joker was displayed on the screen, his face horrifyingly reminding you something. Too many information are going to your brain in so little time. You try to rationalize everything but it's hard when your mind is too tired to cooperate.

He's called the Joker. And you happen to receive joker cards. He wears make up. The man at the bar looked like he did. Hyperventilating is the only thing seemingly still possible from your body. You stand up, inking, sinking, learning, engraving his face to memory.

Two big scars, both going from each corner of his mouth to his cheeks.

Like a badly drawn smile.

"Sean !" you call. Your friend runs out of the bathroom, disheveled, shirt loose and no pants, only in underwear. He rushed out, scared something had happened. Your shaking pointer aim at the TV screen, at the face of the man on it. "It's him. He was at the bar."

When Sean looks at the man, a chill runs down his spine. He understands what might have happened earlier. He could see the purple suit the man had on on the picture, which was the exact same one he saw at the bar. Fuck, it is the same man. He knows the Joker, hell, everyone knows him here.

And that's bad news.

He's everywhere in everyone business. He has no sense of loyalty whatsoever, killing even his best allies and no one has the slightest clue what he wants. At the bar, he probably scared the shit out of you, he probably threatened you, too. Why, it's impossible to know. He's quite the unpredictable.

-Don't worry, he says, he probably forgot about you already. He's a scary man, likes to shock people a little. He always attack for a reason and you're not a criminal, so you're good."

But you couldn't believe it. He does not have all the information. He doesn't know about the tons of cards you received until now. Eyes completely stuck to the screen, you observe the face before you, knowing you probably wouldn't be able to escape him.

Somehow, this emission confirmed to you that he was real, that you weren't dreaming. And that you really were in it deeply.

Sean insists you shower to relax a little bit, you're holding onto the remote for dear life, nails digging in your palm. When in the bathroom, your eyes automatically gravitates towards the mirror, discovering your new face scarred by sleepless nights and cries. You're almost scared of your reflection. Sighing, your hands find themselves in your pockets alone but you're startled by the coldness they are greeted with. What have you in your pocket that is freezing like that ?

Your unease comes back in a rush when you take out another one of these cards from your jacket. Are you for real going crazy ? What is going on ? When did this get here ? How did it get here ? It's your damn jacket ! You had it in the work closet all day !

You're tired and doing this little fucked up game is not doing any good. A greasy almost wiped red is the first thing you see, his lips, you guess. He wears some kind of paint as lip stick, he fucking kissed the card, creepy bastard.

Turning the stiff paper, your eyes meet once again one of these painful riddle.

"I'm everywhere, you can't escape me and I'm coming for you. Who am I ?" tears slide quietly on your cheeks, the only sane reaction your emotionless state can give. You're not even moving, eyes staying fixated on the card; the tears are just physical. Body exhausted from it all. What is this now ? You know he's not talking about an object anymore, he's talking about himself. It's not riddles, it's threats. He's coming for you, what is he going to do ? Kill you ? Torture you, or worse ?

The shower did nothing to ease your nerves, you've never been so tensed in your life. What could you even do against this man ?

When Sean called you to eat, you let him know you weren't feeling the slightest hunger. He said nothing, simply keeping a plate for you on the kitchen counter.

You did not even blink an eye that night, paranoid at the slightest noise, a knife slept cautiously under your cushion. The windows and doors were completely shut and you would have loved to do the very same thing to your brain. You fell asleep, eventually, when you should have been up.

Sean was still asleep when you awoke the next day. You were late, and terribly so, the clicking clock on the wall warning you. It was already way past nine. You don't like to leave his house without even thanking him for his hospitality once again. But you'll see him tonight, at the bar. You'll probably have to quit, though. Not yet, as you have to secure another job. You can't risk being here without money, after all. Joker knows where you work at, no way you're staying more than necessary. But... he has to know about your restaurant job too, somehow.

You had a card in the closet, with his stupid shelf trap, after all.

You're safer there, maybe. It's quite the chic area. There's camera, people. Socialites are here, nobody attacks socialites. Usually, at least. Doubts subsists, the journalist on the TV affirmed the Joker attacked in the middle of the day, in plain sight. Would he attack the rich ? They're untouchable, their lawyer always know what to do and they know everyone. You can't kill a famous advocate, right ? It's like attacking the mayor. Remembering his face, you keep the unsettling impression he could kill anyone.

Fuck.

You take a piece of paper, write a few words on it, scotch it on the fridge and leave, dashing outside to not worsen your lateness. You were dead, oh you were so dead. Late couldn't even describe your situation by now. You boss was going to kill you, de-materialize you and send you in another world.

You ran until your legs couldn't support you anymore, people were side-eyeing you in the streets. Certainly thinking of you as some kind of thief or at the very least a criminal of some sort.

Jumping in the nearest bus, your legs being too weak to support you anymore, you finally arrive at your workplace ten minutes later. It was quarter to ten.

You're breathless, rushing once again to the rear of the restaurant. You push the back door open but to your surprise, it won't budge. What ? The guys never lock the door that early in the morning, they know you'll arrive, eventually. You knock a few times, knowing you had the key anyway but if someone was passing by inside, it would be quicker.

You don't have to wait that long as your boss himself is the one opening it for you, as if waiting beside it until your entry. He probably was. He crosses his arms on his chest, eyes glaring holes in you. Damn, you'll have to fight with him, again. You promised him you wouldn't be late anymore, he will never trust you again.

Well, it's not like he trusted you much before to begin with.

"Listen, I'm terribly sorry I'm late but... he scoffs.

-As If that was the only problem ! The man tightens his jaw, talking between his teeth. He approaches his head to yours, almost colliding your forehead together; he talks lowly, scared to be heard. You know damn well what's wrong.

Wow, okay. You were not expecting his reaction to be that dramatic. You're just (incredibly) late. It's not new. What's gotten into him ? You squint your eyes, at a loss of words.

-I was just... You start, ready to recite him once again your preposterous apologies.

-I don't give a fuck about you being late, he cracks, get out of here now ! You are not to put a single of your foot in this restaurant anymore ! You're gonna scare my customers ! In the process, a postilion left its house to attack your cheek. You cringe, immediately wiping it with your sleeve, shuddering in disgust.

-What ?

-What, what, he mimics you with a grimace and a weird voice, Get out of here ! He articulates each words slowly as if you were a foreigner, except his tone was harsh and firm. Haven't you seen the news ? If they hear a criminal is working here, I'm screwed.

-A criminal ? But I'm not... I'm, what the hell ? I'm not a criminal Tony.

-Yeah, yeah, and I'm rich ! Get the fuck out of here or at least, do me a favor and let me turn you in to the police." his face changes to disdain, suddenly thoroughly repelled by your being. "Man, you have to be some dirty criminal to have 600 000$ put on your face. What kind of shit have you done, huh ?

Six fucking what ?

-Uh, listen, I think there's some kind of misunderstanding here. I'm no criminal and I'm definitely not worth that much money.

Hell, in all your life, you did not even earn that much money !

-Hey, his tone changed to deviously adopt one sweeter. I don't want any problems okay ? With you, the cops or whoever is fucking wanting you dead. I'm an honest citizen.

What a hypocrite, he was literally yelling at you seconds ago.

You frown, trying to even understand what he's implying. You scratch your cheek, eyeing him from head to toe. He's in a tux, like always. He never do shit here, settling for bossing everyone around while trying to make you believe he's an irreplaceable element in the team.

Judging by his eyes, he is not kidding.

Is he for real firing you ? Just like that ? For some imaginary story he just made up ? Jobless, you will be jobless. He is firing you. A nervous chuckles escapes you, earning you a raise of the brow from Tony. No, oh no no ! You have this job, you did nothing wrong ! Life is already more shitty than it ever been ! Stalker, debts, fucking serial killer wanting your ass and now you lost your main job ? No, that won't do.

You were already planning to leave the bar, how are you supposed to find back two jobs ? One already was an ordeal.

-Honest citizen ? Are you blind ? You were more so than him at the moment. You don't even have an ounce of honesty in your fucking body ! Are you even aware of everything I did for this shitty place ? You can't fire me and you won't because no one else want to be your fucking slave ! Your job is slavery ! I don't want to be some kind of toy you throw away after you've had enough fun with it !

Tony was outraged you could talk to him like that. He was similar to a bourgeois in the eighteenth century, acting shocked after being the most gruesome person alive, putting his hand displayed on his chest and playing innocent.

-Me ? You should be honored to even be working ! You never understand, do you ? You are wanted, that's it ! There's nothing more, nothing less. You are fired. I am not hiring trash.

You hope the worst criminal of this town gets you, right here, for his fucking ugly disgusting restaurant to be destroyed to the very last crumbs. You'll use his body as a human shield while you're at it, after all, what else can he be useful for ?

Your body is boiling like lava. Hitting, jumping, crying, you don't know what you want, need, to do to externalize all of these toxic feelings. Never in your life have you felt more used, humiliated.

You knew he was an asshole, of course. Everyone does, but hell he fired you ! After years of being his toy !

You understand why people in Gotham are crazy. You understand why they suddenly breakdown and fall into crime. Their life, just like yours, was wasted by some self centered prick like him. Some self centered prick who are not even much richer than you, but think they will be when disrespecting you.

Your face isn't even warm, it's seething.

Your life is flashing before you, old friend, family, home, Mike. You won't even be able to pay your rent ! Of course chaos would be loved in a city where trash rules. Why the manifestation are so violent, why insecurity and banditry are prominent ? Because everyone is tired but nobody is listening. Because nobody wants to talk, they think they're at the top of the food chain.

And he won't change his mind. You're fired, that's all. Nothing can alters his decision. It's too late. He probably just created some poor excuses to get you out, you know it. Because you're not a criminal, and no one is giving away 600 000$ for your ass; he's lying. It's too farfetched.

You muster the calmest voice you can get while in such a boiling state, and God knows how hard it is. Wasting more time here is useless, he'll pay but not now, and not by you. You have a new problem: you need to find a job.

-Why don't you kill yourself, Tony ? Right now ? your eyes were empty against his outraged ones. That's why your wife left you, by the way. That's why she left you and took your damn kids. You don't even deserve to live, really, kill yourself, jump, it'll be better for everyone."

You shrug and turn away to never come back. You really hope he disappears forever.

And without anything else to do with your day, you went back home, body functioning by its own. With no diploma and no driving license, how were you supposed to find a job ? You had little experience, mostly having worked in little jobs everywhere. Cashiers, cleaner, babysitting, gardener (you really just cut bushes and mowed the lawn), security guard, fuck, you did it all. Plus, you have a second job and companies hate to arrange their schedules according to yours, in their point of view, you're the desperate one, you should manage your life.

It was safer to wander in Gotham now, the sun was bright in the sky. It was a clear day, really pretty. A shame you couldn't enjoy it.

You open the always creaking door of the building, feeling the freezing temperature inside. Truly a mystery, though a benediction in the hottest summer. A night out and it's like you already don't know this place anymore. You stand in the middle of the hall, staring at each crack in the walls, each suspicious stains, inhaling the disgusting smell emanating from it all.

Yeah, you hate this place.

Sighing and rubbing your tensed shoulders, you approach your mailbox. Opening it, you're pleasantly surprised when no cards is in sight. Maybe he finally got bored ? Your reaction back at the bar probably wasn't what he expected, not satisfying enough so he gave up. You hope so.

What's inside however is a A4 white sheet folded in two. Thinking a neighbor might have wanted to contact you, you open the paper. Yet, on it, the photo of your identity card in huge format, above it, your whole legal name with just below a price, written 'wanted' for treason. A chill run down your spine.

Okay, that is not funny. What the hell ? Did Tony did that ? If yes, how and why ? You pass your hand on your face, harshly rubbing your eyelids to wake you up. This is a joke, everything's a joke.

An echo brings you back on earth when someone goes down the stairs, upon seeing you, your neighbor halts. You offer him a tight lip smile out of pure politeness, which is a an act he does not even try to imitates as he eyes you as if seeing an animal. Do you look that bad ?

Awkwardly, you shift your weight on your feet to ease the tension growing in you. Why is he still looking at you ? The man, even though you were already well far away from him, distances himself and instead of going straight to the door to leave, bothers to make a detour in order to skirt you completely, without daring to approach a millimeter. Does he think you're going to bite, or what ? You two have talked in the past, briefly sure, but still. Fuck, his behaviour does not comfort you one bit.

When the door shut, you're left standing alone once again.

Things are definitely going in a direction you don't appreciate, you may need to hurry up before something really bad happens. Your hand fetches your phone in your back pocket, calling Sean. When he answers, he does not even bother to greet you.

"You okay? You left really early. You're at work ?

-I got fired, long story. I really need your help, again. I'm truly sorry I myself don't quite understand what's going on and... you stop your ranting, breathless and a lump in throat.

-It's okay, really. I don't mind. Tell me everything, how did you get fired ? Why ?

You called him for several reasons. The first being that he's kind of the only friend you have. The second being that Sean's family know people. They're all criminal at different degrees, whether it is gang leader, small thief or hitman. He's the only one actively trying to live an honest life.

-It's complicated and I'm still pissed about it. you tell him seriously, walking in circles in the hall. I have a question and I really need your answer.

-Not stressing at all. He tries to ease the mood, in vain.

-Am I wanted ?

Sean doesn't answer for twenty seconds too much. His silence is starting to worry you, why isn't he saying anything ? Is he confused ? Does he know ? Please, may he not hide something from you. Wanting to distract yourself, you take the stairs to join your flat. Your fingers were creasing the paper sheet in your hand so hard you could have ripped it.

-In like, he finally starts with a strained voice, a personality kind of way ? Relationship ? He chuckles awkwardly while you frown. Well, no offense but uh, I don't think I am attracted to you, I like you but I wouldn't say I want you, you know ? But you shouldn't be insecure, you're a really great person you know, and I mean, you're not ugly so...

-Sean, what the fuck ? You finally cut him when it hit you that he wasn't answering. You were on the floor just below yours, wanting to walk and not quite go home for the moment.

-I'm sorry, was that mean ? That was definitely mean. He clears his throat. Listen, what I meant was...

-No Sean I'm not insecure, everything's fine. I did not mean... Argh ! You're in this kind of environment, you should know !

-What environment ...?

You want to pull at his hair and shake his head back and forth to punish him for being so stupid. Or maybe you were just not being clear, it was surely that. You were incredibly stressed. Traveling between the different floors or the building to stretch your legs.

-Like, criminals, mafia, I don't know. It's... You sigh, your anger dissipating when you realized you were being a little harsh to him. Weird things keep happening to me and I think I'm going crazy for thinking I may have a price on my head.

-Oh, wanted wanted. No because I thought... He coughs. Never mind. I can definitely tell you that. But honestly, odds are low. No offense but you have nothing to give to anyone. You don't have a lot of money. So I don't think anyone wants you.

Damn.

-Why do you think that anyway ? he asks.

Very briefly, you explain to him why Tony had fired you, still using the stairs and floors as a distraction. Of course, you then told him about the paper you found in your mailbox and the weird encounter with your neighbor.

-I'm just really fucking lost, Sean. I'm sorry, you've been nothing but nice to me and I keep snapping at you, I-I don't know what's going on.

-You're freaked out, it's normal. I don't blame you. I'll help you, send me the wanted poster you got. Maybe it's fake."

Of course, you tell him. You'd do pretty much anything to get out of this situation. You want it to be fake, but there's just an accumulation of bad things that tend to make you believe it's true. Looking around you, you notice to be on the last floor of the building. Flattening the paper sheet back, trying to erase all the creases, you lay it on the dirty floor of the hallways. You tear your phone away from your ear for a simple moment to take the picture. You press send.

You wait impatiently for him to say something, anything. But his reaction is clearly not the one you were waiting for:

-Oh fuck.

-What ? you panic, feeling your heart rises in your throat. What do you mean 'oh fuck' ? Sean ?" But the nauseating ringing of the call being cut short echoes in your ear.

He hung up.

You bite your lip, shutting your eyes as hard as you can. Your fingers find your closed lid, pressing on it as if calming an upcoming headache. What the fuck is going on exactly ? Why did he hang up ? Did you say something ? Did he see something ? You can't keep doing that, nobody answered any of your questions since this morning. You are tired.

You give up. You'll go back home, sleep a little. Research a job in the newspaper and hope for things to get better. Sighing, you walk the stairs once again, only this time to really move on.

Has everyone given up on you ? It feels like it, no one seems akin to want to help you. You never did any wrong to anyone. You always hold the door open to people, you give the few you have to homeless people in the streets. You payed what an old woman lacked in money for her groceries. You work everyday of the damn week, with no holidays.

What have you done ?

Sure, you're starting to break down, you told Tony to kill himself, you yelled at Sean. What the hell ? Never would you have done that in your life. What's happening ? It's getting scary out there, yet, no one's here for you to confide in.

You never should have left your hometown, you punished yourself.

The first thing you do once inside your home is falling head first on the couch. Feeling tears filling up your eyes. You don't fight them, letting them slide freely along your cheeks. After all, it's the good part of having a place to yourself, you get to cry alone in the safety of it.

You'll have to give it up, though. Without necessary money, you'll eventually need to move. Probably find a roommate and live in a red light district.

You spent the next hours trying to read classified ads, key word being 'trying' as your watery eyes didn't allow you to see much. And you ended up watching TV, like you always do. You couldn't fathom the idea of being that alone. When did it all go wrong ? Are you a horrible person ?

The news-woman kept talking and talking without stopping, saying the same things as yesterday and probably tomorrow as well. Inflation, criminality, inflation, criminality. Where were you in all of this ? What about the population ? Where were the solutions ? Is this city really stuck in a loop of chaos ?

The screen now displays a cop in a police station, sharing his feeling and impression about the improvement of the city. You don't listen to him, more struck by what's behind him: a poster on a cork board. Yours. It's your face, with the price, 'treason' shit and everything. The exact same poster you had in your mailbox. The situation is that bad, huh ? Your wanted poster is right next to The Joker one. Is there a link ? Are they hoping to find him after finding you ? They're wrong, then.

You wait, impatiently trying to decipher whether the policeman will talk about you or not. But he does not, so you lay back down on the couch. How does wanted people live freely ? You've been researched for a few hours and you're already going crazy with the feeling everyone's watching you.

Do you even know a criminal in this town ? Well, the only one you do know is Sean. You briefly meet them at the bar, as part of your job. Befriending them is not for you though, so you have no useful information to give the Joker. Then what does he want ?

The doorbell rings through the flat, screaming at you to get up and do something with your life. A chill run through your body, breath stopping for a second out of fear to be heard. For a while, you don't move. Who could it be anyway ? Surely bad news. Now that you're wanted, it could be anyone. But the rings echoes again, forcing you to get up. Slowly and as quietly as possible, you slide to the door. Eye staring through the peephole, you're surprised to discover Sean standing anxiously outside.

How did he get your address ?

Opening the different locks on your door, you however keep the small chain closing it. It wasn't much of a protection to be honest, but you needed to lie to yourself a little bit.

"You hung up on me. Is the only thing you say when your eyes meet.

-I know, I'm really sorry. Are you okay ?

-How did you get my address ? It's weird.

He explains to you how your information are given on your work file. You stand inside, judging him from head to toe. He welcomed you at his place, you have to be polite or you'll really look like an opportunistic. But it's hard when you don't know his exact thoughts.

-Why did you hang up ?

-I talked to my uncle, he has a bar in the center of Gotham. Every criminal goes there, he knows everything.

-And ?

-You're safe, it's false. You're not wanted. He... He didn't see your poster. So it was a bad joke. Silence, you don't believe him. I promise. You're not in danger.

Then why is your face plastered in all Gotham ? Is he completely sure about that information ? You hate to act this way but, it's too late for him to tell you that anyway. False or not, the poster of your head is everywhere. People will try to find you. The veracity of it all doesn't matter anymore.

Though you can't shake that uneasy feeling inside you alerting you of his lie. You saw your face on TV, in a police station. It's not nothing !

-How are you so sure ?

-I told you, you have nothing that could interest such a dangerous man as the Joker.

He's right, on the other hand, something's definitely wrong.

-What do we do, now ?

-You could let me in ? I want to help you but we can't talk if I stay outside.

Halfheartedly, you let him in. He thanks you, admires a few seconds his surroundings before plopping down on the couch. You stay standing even after closing the door shut, crossing your arms on your chest and awaiting his arguments.

Should you tell him you saw your face in a police station ? No, you need to know what he's going to tell you. He's lying, you know it now. But why ?

You thought he could be a friend, turn out you can't trust him that much. Or are you losing it ? Policemen are quite dumb here, they are completely capable of believing everything they see and considering they're desperate to catch the Joker; they could have took your poster as a track.

-What's your plan ? you ask.

-It depends on what you want.

Well, you want a lot of different things. Money, happiness, freedom, family, equality, peace. Right now though, one will be enough.

-I need a job, I can't pay my rent this month otherwise.

-That one's easy. He crosses his arms on his chest, sinking into the sofa cushions. Try ask your bank, they'll lend you some.

-No they won't Sean, I'm indebted. Seriously, did he really think life was this easy ? Did he really think you haven't thought of doing just that ?

He sighs and shrug, crossing his legs, he put his feet on the table. Your eyes are enough to tell him to put them back on the ground. He's a little bit too comfortable for your liking.

-It's these immigrants my friend. We lack money because of them.

What ?

-No, it's just poor distribution of resources. With the ongoing inflation and such, it has literally nothing to do with immigration. You frown, confusion lacing your tone, answering him as if asking a question, because what ? That was so out of pocket ? It's stupid to think like that, it's too easy to accuse others. They're as fucked as we are, you know ? Don't say that.

That's what Gotham thinks ? That each one of their problem is caused by others ? Industries, Government, Politics, they're the one causing all of this. How does someone get to this conclusion ? You thought Sean was good, hell, his family was poor. They survived thanks to drugs and banditry. He's bold to think immigrants are the problem: His family literally embezzles money.

-Jeez, calm down.

Well, it's difficult to be calm towards this kind of stupidity. But at least it keeps you in check, you know who he's voting for. Never trust anyone. It's true you don't know him that well, after all.

-You want my help or not ?

It's harder to see him in the same light as before after this, but if he's the only one willing to help, you can't waste this chance.

-Yeah. You sigh, ashamed with yourself. I need people to forget about me.

-Good, meet me at the back of the bar at the end of our shift. He's not waiting for an answer as he gets up to leave.

-Wow. No ?

He stops in his tracks as you block his way.

-What do you mean, 'no' ?

Is he serious ? With everything you risk ? Criminals at the bar know you, hell, some of them see you every night. No, you are not joining him in the dark in a creepy alley late at night when people want you dead. Also, you need to think a little before jumping straight back to work, it's dangerous.

-Because I don't want to die ?" You need to tell him. "Okay, Sean, I may not understand everything but I know you're lying to me. Am I wanted or not ?

He already lost every ounce of respect you had for him. First with the lying, then with the whole immigrants things.

-You don't believe me ? Is he trying to make you feel guilty ?

-I saw my fucking head on the TV. I believe that's enough proof for me. You cut the conversation straight, not wanting him to keep lengthening things uselessly.

Sean doesn't answer, seemingly hesitating. What is he thinking ? He has to respond. He's constantly trying to avoid the subject and it's getting frustrating.

-That means I'm in danger, right ?

-Yes." he finally answers. Thank God, you think, God why, you also think. "But not because of the Joker. He's not responsible for what's happening to you. All the cards and riddles are from him, yes, but someone saw you two talking at the bar and thought they could get to him by killing you.

You entirely stopped trusting him after he mentioned the cards and the riddles. Because never, in all your discussions, have you mentioned receiving these. He knows too much.

You don't bring it up, of course.

-Explain.

Who could have told him about the riddles, if not you ? The one sending them ? Yes, but Sean's terrified of him. Plus, he couldn't talk to him, even if he had the courage to. It's the Joker, from what you understand, you don't approach him easily. He's not the small local criminal. He's something more.

-The Joker's well known. Everyone wants to defy him. And someone saw you.

-Who ? you ask, finally getting some well deserved qualitative answers.

-His name was, uh, Korej I believe.

-Ko...Rej... you repeat, unimpressed, frowning.

Is it you or does it sound vaguely similar to Joker, but with the letters all mixed up ?

-It's his pseudonym." He hastily answers. "But his real name is John, he lives in the richest part of Gotham. He's a mob leader. He fucking despises the Joker, that's why his name is Kojer.

-Korej, you corrected.

-Yeah, it's difficult to remember. It's quite the shitty name.

He really think you're dumb, right ? You clasp your hands together, catching his drifting attention.

-Okay, well, thank you for everything Sean. It was a pleasure, truly. But now I'm gonna ask you to leave.

-You don't believe me ?

No, no you don't. Everything he ever said to you since he first came here was either weird or false. And sometimes weirdly false.

-Please, leave my house.

You'll go to the nearest police station, ask for help. And if nobody helps you, you'll find a way out of here. This city is dead anyway, there's nothing for you anymore. It's too late.

-Don't you want to talk about it ? he asks hurriedly, displaying his open hands in the air as if ready to grab your shoulders.

-If you want us to talk, okay, you yield. But choose somewhere safe, with a lot of people. I am not joining you at the back of the bar at night where everyone could kill me.

You're going crazy. Why are you even accepting this ? It's not a dream, nor a joke, you really are wanted. People want to kill you. There is money on your head. Sean is deep in thoughts before getting the enlightenment he needed, suddenly vigorously saying:

-Shopping center.

-What ?

-Let's meet at the shopping center, in two hours. I have things to prepare, people to call. You have my number, I'll call you. Is it good for you ?

His behaviour is screaming danger, on the other hand, a rendez-vous in a crowded shopping center at 3PM is not as risky as the bar. And if things turn bad, you still have a chance to run away, hidden in the mass. You hope the things he'll prepare will help you, and not worsen everything.

"Okay. You yield, once again.

-Thank you so much, he exclaimed." Why is he thanking you ? "You're a real sweetheart. It will be worth it."

And with these last words, he left.

You won't go. Of course you won't go damn, you don't want to die. He's so suspicious ! Why so much relief ? He's the one supposed to help you, you're not doing anything for him. You absolutely changed your mind. Yesterday, he was that nice man who saved your life, welcoming you home warmly. Today, he's, well, you don't know who he is anymore. You want to understand, discover what's wrong, but at the same time, it's not yours to do.

Fuck, you need to empty your mind. It's tiring, to be suspicious of everyone, to always have to thoroughly think about everything you do. You plop down on your couch, grabbing the remote and turning the TV on. There's a cartoon going on. Tom and Jerry, a cat chasing, or at least trying to, a mouse. But the mouse's well smarter than the cat. 

Each time he thinks he'll catch it, the mouse finds a way to turn the situation to his advantage. Because in fact, the cat will never win. He has the illusion of strength because of his height, when the mouse is vicious, malign. 

Also, if the cat caught the mouse, well, the show wouldn't have any interest anymore. 

On the screen, the mouse finds a way to slam the door in the cat face, who's dizzy. To illustrate it, stars and birds are rotating around his head.

You don't know why the mouse does all this, maybe to survive. The small animal found the comfort of a warm house with good cheese and doesn't want to leave. The cat, however, is forced to chase it all day. As his owners force him to. It's his role, as the house guard, to chase rodents. Otherwise, he'll be replaced. 

You have to be really damn fucked for you to start analyzing a stupid cartoon. 

Jeez, it's a cat chasing a mouse, it's silly, it's fun to watch. You don't think, just turn off your brain and have fun. Why can't you do just that ?

Sighing, you change channel, trying to find something worth watching. You end up watching the news, it keeping you grounded. It helps you think you're not the worst case, that there's always worse somewhere. It's deeply selfish, but hey, you can't do much about it. Your life is pretty much ruined at the moment. 

What's today's problem? Well this time, the subject is centered around climate change and its catastrophes.

"Global warming. Today, in Spain, alarming news. The national temperature has increased considerably by 46°F (5°C) since last year. The Spanish are revolted, the world is encountering a record in warmth. Their main claim, she reads her notes, "It's summer's weather when we're in autumn." She briefly gulps her saliva. "Indeed, the local heat reached 86°F (30°C) while 73°F (23°C) at night. IPCC's report is alarming, something has to change. Is the world government going to act ?" She quits her serious tone and changes the subject. "Local news; what's happening in Gotham today ?"

Ah, here you go. You turn up the volume. 

"Earlier in the main avenue today, several store signs were vandalized by a group of masked men, it is thought to be perpetrated by an illegal organization. It's a real raid that happened, terrorizing the passers-by and owners. The identity of the delinquent stays unfounded. We know that the police department is currently working on..."

You mute the TV. Vandalizing stores, now ? They didn't even steal anything, who does that ? On the screen, a replay of surveillance cameras showing masked men running, pushing people and only stopping to draw weird shapes on a few of the stores. It's bad, but not quite as bad as your case. Putting the sound back, you're perfectly timed with the conclusion of the event. 

"Where is Batman ? Has the vigilante abandoned our city ? We hope for his prompt return in time for him to apprehend the Joker." 

Batman, right. You forgot that man was even existing. While some wonder who is hiding behind the mask, you're left questioning yourself on which side is he. If he's with the cops, is he a good or bad man ? Police is part of the problem, certainly. But Batman sometimes helps people, although you never encountered him yourself. But is he really with the police ? 

Who is he working with ? And why is he what he is ?

"Whatever... You rub your eyes."

Why do you even keep thinking about that, it's not your problem anymore. You're leaving. Gotham has nothing left for you. Batman can do whatever he wants, for all you care. He doesn't know about your insignificant existence, why waste it thinking of him ? 

But are you really leaving this place, though ? 

Are you really about to leave your life and flee like a coward ? Yes, is the obvious answer. You could think about it, is the less obvious answer. 

Yes, your life is at stake. On the other hand, Sean could really be useful as you're still in danger as long as you stay in Gotham, he's a considerable ally in this story. And not only Sean but his family as well could help you. 

You know about his aunt. That woman is quite well known. A powerful gang chief. You could pay her to get escorted outside of Gotham. You're already indebted anyway, you have nothing to lose anymore. Moreover, nothing guarantees your safety once outside of Gotham. If the Joker is as feared as shown in the media, changing city won't be enough. Which is why you need to clear the problem directly from the root. 

Okay, you won't lose anything in going, right ? Maybe your life, but it's worth a try. You'll join Sean. Yes, you'll join him. 

When the time arrived, you couldn't shake that uneasy feeling taunting you all while preparing yourself. What if someone chases after you ? What if you get kidnapped ? You won't, of course you won't. Sean will be there when you arrive. He's dissuading enough. He's a big man. 

You found yourself before the gigantic mall before even being able to process it. It was crowded, people entering and getting out every second. For a moment, your eyes search for Sean in the rabble only to find no one. He's probably inside, it's safer. 

Tightly holding the hood stuck on your head, you stare intensely at whoever crosses your path, trying to gain enough courage to finally enter the building. 

It's scary to be wanted, the displeasing impression everyone's looking at you is suffocating. You could get killed, right now. Abducted, even. 

When the automated doors open, you're greeted by the cold air conditioning. It's autumn, why the hell would someone want to freeze to death ? 

Checking your phone, there's still no sign of Sean. He couldn't possibly stand you up, right ? He's the one who insisted for you to come. It wouldn't be logical. He's just late.

You can't really afford to be waiting in your situation, every second matters. You don't know what will happen. And, yeah, you're kind of starting to freak out. You don’t know where your wanted poster ended up. Maybe you’re already dead, and, shit, you're alone in such a vulnerable position. Fuck, why did you come ?

You’re trying to stay rational, thinking of every possibility as to why he’s not here. You nod your head to yourself, trying to ease your nerves. He'll come. You just need a little patience. He said he needed to prepare things beforehand, that's why he's late. He's late because he'll help you. 

You miss the mall, it's been long since you last came here, too preoccupied with your two jobs. You used to like watching people but quickly stopped. First, you once or twice made an awkwardly long eye contact with a man who then wanted to beat you up for provoking him, "like a pussy". Then, the second reason is that people are just... Mean. You'd look at a pretty woman only for her to spit on the ground. In the street is already disgusting enough, but the mall ! You'll look at a man hugging a woman, just to realize that they both don't know each other and that he's drunk out of his mind. 

Maybe you do need to get out of here, actually. 

Your phone still hasn't buzzed, you need to do something with your body or you’ll go crazy. It’s obvious staring daggers at your device every second won’t help. He's not here yet, you need to accept it and wait. You'll walk a little to not get noticed, your tensed and motionless body language is screaming suspicious and people are starting to side eye you. 

It’s only natural of your legs to start bringing you to the places you used to go to, only to realize that one of your favorite stores closed permanently. Of course, with the crisis. It’s not surprising. 

"Fucking morons..." Mutters a man to your left. Upon looking in his direction, you meet the owner of the voice standing on a stepladder, trying to energetically scrub with a sponge his store's sign. Key word being 'trying' as it's not successful. 

Right, earlier's vandals. 

He's cursing to himself, scrubbing progressively more aggressively the almost intact big black 'O' tagged on the sign mocking him. 

"Can I know who did that? asked your curiosity. 

-Fucking assholes, he answers without even looking your way, that's who did that. 

-What do they looked like ?

-No idea, he grumbles. They all had that stupid mask on. All white with some blue and red. No idea what that was supposed to be. Ask the other owners if you're so interested, but you're late. Journalists already left. 

Oh, right. He thinks you’re a journalist. 

-Thank you, have a nice day sir.

-Yeah yeah…”

You heard several stores were vandalized, where are the others ? Letting your legs wander, you get your answer a few meters/feet away. A sign is hanging by an electric thread. 

It’s a shoe store, but its signboard was now displaying a big black 'O'. You lift a brow, confused about its meaning. Usually, tag either insults or convey a message. Anyhow, there's a sense. Now though, you can't quite pinpoint it. O, what starts with an O. Optimism, oppression, obedient omelette ? It can be anything. Maybe it's not a letter, but a signature? 

Two stores away (you see it out of the corner of your eye) another of these is vandalized, this time, a bold 'B' was written. What word could this correspond to? B for Batman ? It's not a word, mostly a name. Baby, maybe. Bomb, bag, anything. Hell, it could even be badminton for all you know. 

Next letter is directly after the previous one, a 'S' hiding the dress logo the sign was exhibiting prior. The paint is dripping a little and one or two drops can be seen on the ground. 

"Those damn scum." a man grumbles, who you think might be the owner of the poor store. He crosses his arms on his chest, looking up disapprovingly. 

You ignore him, now thrilled by all of this. You want to discover all the tags. It's not like you have much better to do anyway. Sean still hasn't answered you. You know what to do to wait: find words for each letter. S makes you think of sabotage, skull and soup. 

You see the next letter from afar, this time, an "E" welcomes you. Though, this one was partially erased. You guess the owner found the right product. It's now possible to read the sign and enjoy the sweet sight of what seems to be a sex shop sign. Is it even legal ? There's kids coming into this mall. Anyway, a lot of words start with E; Electric, Ebola, education, eagle. 

You don't find the next letter right away, needing to walk a little to find it. But when you do, you're weirdly excited. It's just a bunch of words on some signboards, yet, it's fun. Like an orienteering race. But mostly because you don't get to have much fun today, and this being out of your quotidian, it's easy to be ecstatic.  

Further away, it's not one but two letters that greets you; two "S", entwined like snakes. Shit, is it a nazi kind of tag ? It looks like the police's symbol there was back then. If that’s the case, you don’t find this as exciting as before. Not a good thing to write. There's already so much chaos here, you pray nazis are not going to be added to it. You think of the word 'Swiss' for this letter.

Next letter is an 'I'. Investigation, investment, ice. A woman bypasses you, hitting your shoulder with her. You squeal out of surprise, the woman doesn't even notice you. What a shitty town. You check your phone again, making sure Sean didn't try to contact you. No reply. 

Walking ahead, the next vandalized store needs you to turn to the left to be seen, it's an 'O', again. But you don’t have the time to think of words that you already see the next letter. It’s a ‘N’. Night, Nemo (as in the movie) and nuisance. You already found words starting with ‘O’ anyway. It seems to be the last one as you walk and turn but no others appear. Disappointment lingers, sad it ended so soon. 

What is it, does it form a word at the end ? Like street art ? Maybe, a shame you already forgot all the previous letters. It was fun, though. You'd do it again, it's entertaining. Like a track game where you follow a path. Vibrations are bringing you back to reality, rushing to take it, you rotate to leave the place in order to find somewhere calmer. In your haste, you bump straight into someone. You freeze for a second, phone in hand.

They’re wearing a mask, a clown mask on their black hair. And a really ugly one. It’s shiny, like plastic and it surely is. Their eyes are the only thing you see through the holes. Whoever that is is staring right into your damn soul. Their eyes are empty, so empty you might think they’re on some kind of drug. The big red nose in the middle of their face is mocking you, laughing at you to be scared of something so ridiculous. Two small tufts of green hair are standing on each side of his head, the false bloody teeth drawn on the mask is the final touch that tells you to leave.

“Sorry.” you mumble, avoiding eye contact.

Your hands are holding your phone so tightly that fear strikes you that you could actually break the screen. The clown does not move when you walk past him, and you realize right then and there that they were well too close to you for it to be normal. You hate clowns, you hate them so much. All of this because of that stupid Joker. That person probably wasn’t even related to him, maybe he was one of the vandals. You don’t know, you don’t want to.

When you pick up Sean’s call, he apologizes for being late and plans an area for you to meet. You’re before the sex shope tagged by the “E” by the time Sean joins you. You’re not as convinced as before to destroy the problem from its root after the clown encounter. You’re not a hero, not a criminal. You’re nothing, you don’t have anything to prove to anybody. You should leave.

“You okay ? You look like you saw a ghost ? He laughs, but he’s not your friend so you don’t.

-So ? Got out much more coldly than you intended it to be.

-Jeez, you’re impatient. I’ll help you, I told you I would, right ?

You did, doesn’t mean you really will. You cross your arms on your chest, approaching him for him to hear you more clearly.

-Do you have any information ? Ways to get me out of here ? To resolve this ? Anything ?

He sighs, stepping back as if you’re the plague and looking elsewhere in the crowd. He seems conflicted, forehead creased by his worry.

-I can’t tell you now, walls have ears.

-Then why the fuck would you tell me to join you here ? If you’re so scared to be spied on, we could have continued this discussion at my place.

Your tension is building up. It’s fucking frustrating to talk with him. He starts teasing you with interesting information, then, he retreats and acts as if nothing happened and you’re just impatient. He told you to come here, he told you he’d help you.

-At least answer my questions, you plead, I don’t even know who… Who is the Joker ? Who is he exactly ? He physically tensed, his shoulders literally hunched forwards. What the hell ?

-Well, uh, it's complicated.

Damn, even that couldn’t be answered. Why are you still here ?

-What do you mean it's complicated ? Is he a terrorist ? A thief ? A gang leader ? A serial killer ? It's a simple question.

-He's a little bit of everything, truly.

Why does he always seem so nervous talking about him ?

-Sean for the love of God, he’s not here ! people are starting to look in your direction, but you couldn’t care less. You can calm down, he won’t kill you ! You gotta breathe a little, man. Aren’t you the one who literally told me he wasn’t after me ? It’s not the first time you’re lying to me and I’m starting to lose it. Why am I here ? Tell me, why are we fucking here if you’re not gonna help me ! Who is this man and what does he want ? Why does he want to kill me ! It’s…” a gunshot whistles in the air, cutting you in your sentence straight away, screams erupting from all sides.

Your body acts before you can think, throwing yourself on the ground. It’s hard to understand what’s going on, but in a way, you don’t try to. You get up quickly and lose yourself in the running and yelling crowd. Your paranoia is not helping, was this gunshot aimed at you ? Sean is somewhere in the mall, but it’s too late. You gave him a chance, he wasted it.

Another gunshot echoes, followed closely by the sound of a glass breaking. Your senses are overwhelmed; names, insults, orders are being yelled. Is the Joker here ? You need to get out of here, now. Bodies are pushed against yours, your clothes are being tugged on. But when you were about to reach the exit, someone harshly grabs you out of the crowd, pulling you aside. It’s panic in your head, survival instinct kicking in. You yank your arm out of the person’s hold but freeze upon seeing Sean threaten you with a gun.

“Sean, you start with a shaky voice, what the fuck ? his eyes are cold, you don’t recognize him. He looks at you as if you're nothing, as if you're no one.

-He’s here, he states, looking paranoidly to the sides. He’s… He’s going to kill me if I don’t bring you to him.

-Bring me to who, Sean ? But you fear you might already know.

-The Joker.

Of course he’d betray you. Who are you kidding ? You knew, you knew he would trap you. Your eyes can’t leave the sight of the gun barrel, following each of its movements. He’s shaking, you realize. Is he scared, hesitating ? Or motivated by a hatred so pure he can’t even control his own feelings ?

-Sean, you try nonetheless, he’ll kill you either way okay ? He’s a sadist, we can… you gulp, throat suddenly burning dry. We can leave together, we’ll leave the city and…

-You don’t understand, do you ? He’ll track you, he’ll track us down. And then, he’ll slaughter us like pigs. You hear me ? He’ll slaught…

-I get it ! I get it ! you scream, shutting your eyes in order to erase those images from your head.

How can you even change his mind ? You doubt he’d fold with some speech about your friendship. It’s not like you two were that close to be honest. Sure, you liked him but that changed since the beginning of the Joker catastrophe.

-He promised me money, he explained himself. As if you’d forgive him after hearing his justification. A lot of money. You can’t understand what it’s like to… when you see him lower his weapon, you interrupt him, drived by your anger.

-How can you be so stupid ? He was, he truly was an idiot for believing the Joker. You haven’t known that beast for long, but each time someone defined him, it was always along the lines of wicked, treacherous, vicious and ruthless. So yeah, he was stupid. Was your life worth something as insignificant as money ? Has he ever liked you ?

-Shut up ! I’m done living like a fucking tramp !

Tramp is a big word coming from him, daddy pays him everything ! You’re tired of his tantrums, he is a grown man, ten or fifteen years older than you and he’s acting like a child. Suffering is your quotidian as well, but you would’ve never betrayed him. In fact, that is your problem. You’re not a scumbag like him, that’s why you can’t stand him. You have no value similar to his, if he even has some. By what right does he think he can use you to get, what, a few dirty money ?

If you're going to die, at least you'll die telling him every resentment you had towards him.

-You think I am happy ?! Your life’s better than mine ! Fuck you Sean, you’re an asshole ! You’re a fucking asshole ! You’re the one that should die !

-Shut the fuck up you whore !

A burning pain sliced through you along a sharp sound, legs losing all strength and making you fall on the ground. Your ears are ringing and your breath is cut for a few long seconds. What happened ? Is the first question popping in your head, but the atrocious pain coursing through your leg answers you. Your hand touches your hurting limb, but retreats it instantly at the pain. So you look down.

Blood, there’s blood everywhere.

It’s yours. It’s… It’s your damn blood, you’re bleeding. You have a hole in your leg and it’s gushing out blood. He shot you. Fuck, oh God, oh God, you’re bleeding. You’re fucking bleeding and it hurt like hell. It hurt so damn bad, why, why did he do that ? Your eyes are stinging and soon, tears fall down your cheeks. Are you going to die ? Here ? With nothing accomplished ? Alone ? Shot by the only man you thought was your friend ?

-I believe alive was written on the contract.

You recognize that voice, you hear it in your nightmares.

-Joker ! I… She tried to run away, I had to immobilize her !

It’s weird, your body is exhausted, yet, the pain is keeping you well awake. Your head is heavy when you lay it on the dirty ground of the mall. Eyes trailing slowly to the two men talking. Finally, he’s here before you. He’s shown himself. Even if it’s only the second time you see him, you talked and heard about him so much these past hours it feels like you’ve been with him for months. And maybe you were, in a way. Sean walks past you, not glancing towards your drained body on the ground. He’s scared of him. He plays the big man with you, but he’s a little bitch.

How is Sean, a man built like a fridge, so terrified of someone so ridiculous as the Joker ?

Who is he ?

The pain in your leg makes it feel numb and at the same as alive as it never been. The Joker sighs exaggeratedly, he tilts his head to the side to look at you. Shivers shake your whole body. Is that it ? This is the man who’ll abduct you ? You’d rather get killed instantly.

-And right on Valentine’s day...” mumbles the Joker.

It’s not, it’s autumn. Valentine’s day is in February, in winter. From your position, police sirens are heard and red and blue lights are flashing, reflecting on the windows. The Joker takes out a gun out of his long purple jacket and aims it towards Sean.

“Please ! He yells. I-I did what you wanted ! She’s here, please don’t kill me ! I’m a hitman, I’ll work for you !

Is he, now ? He's barely a barman.

-Do I look like I'm searching for employees ? He asks, opening his arms and bending his hands for his palms to face the ceiling before looking around him for confirmation. Because I’m not.”

You're torn between relief and horror at the sight of Sean falling to the ground after another gunshot, bathing in his own blood. He did betray you, he brought you here, he brought this upon you, upon himself. But he’s dead. You wished him to, but now that he is you’re horrified.

It’s then that you realize that The Joker is surrounded by his masked goons. Probably the one who vandalized the store, now that you think about it. You walked right into his trap.

“Well ? What are you waiting for ? he asks almost comically. Bring the package to the car !

When several men surrounds you, you're left yelling and fighting to get out of their holds, in vain, of course. The blood gushing out of your hurting limb isn't helping much, anyway. You feel your strength slowly evaporate from you.

Shotguns echoes, but your ringing ears prevent you to precisely locate it. Soon, they throw you in the back of a car and close the door, leaving you in the dark.

Gotham killed you.  

[angriel]

Eywa's Chance: Found out Pt. 1

Warning: Widowed! Jake Sully, Warrior! Reader, Sexual Themes (will put signs), Angst, Absolutely Ass Writing, 17+, Violence, War, Chaos, Peace. Skypeople reader, Jake x Reader

This happens after Jake's Consciousness transfer.

Jake walks towards to the Tree of Souls where he always spend his sleepless nights, he's always so desperate to come here so he could finally reunite with his mate Neytiri. Ever since the 1st war of the Na'vi and the sky people everyone has lost so many including their Home Tree, they have relocated into the High Camp to avoid the RDA and keeping his people safe.

But every night he can't seem to make himself not go to this place, he always longed for Neytiri's presence. He quickly grabbed his Tsaheylu and as he made a connection with the Tree of Souls he closed his eyes. And there she was standing waiting to greet Jake, and when he saw her he prayed that Eywa will bring her back with him but he knew it was impossible.

Oel Ngati Kameie Ma Jake Neytiri Greeted him, he returned it and immediately hugged her. Neytiri didn't return the hug and he became confused. "Why are you not hugging back? Is it because you didn't miss me?" Jake smirked and playfully asked Neytiri, but nothing could prepare him for what she would say to him.

"Ma Jake, I think it's time" Neytiri said with a straight and serious face. Jake's ears lowered down as his tail lightly swung to the side, he's confused and thought what Neytiri said.

"Baby, what do you mean?" Jake Whispered, Neytiri shook her head and breaks the hug, she took his hand and hold it on her 4 fingered ones. "You need to let me go, find someone new and Rebuild our home." Neytiri said with sadness evident in her voice.

Jake knew that it is Neytiri's dying wish was for Jake to lead the people to safety, rebuild their home & find a new mate to build a family. "Babygirl we've talked about this. You're my only mate, my one and only" Jake Firmly said while staring at Neytiri's eyes.

"No! You must find someone! Ma hu Eywa salew tirea, (My Spirit Goes with Eywa) But your body goes with the people" Neytiri Argued, Jake remained silent as Neytiri turned so that she couldn't see his face.

"Go! Don't come back but please don't forget me" Neytiri said as she disappeared. Jake cried as he disconnected his Tsaheylu on the strand of the Tree of Souls. He Whistled for his Ikran and almost immediately it was in front of him. He mounted it and fly towards the High Camp as the sun rises.

"(Y/N)! Don't you dare do it!" said a voice from a transmitter, (Y/N) just scoffed to the command of a certain someone, the commander was not happy at her actions. She's a marine that was one of the few that were chosen to be in this program, this was never in her plan but when she saw how ruthless they killed the animals and the natives of this world she began to think twice and eventually leading her to betray her own kind.

"Do you feel proud? betraying your own kind?" the commander asked mockingly, "regardless of where you are, we will still find you, you can not escape our grasps" this was the last stretch she has heard from that transmitter before she took it off and threw it somewhere in the pandoran forest.

She never really cared about her own kind all she wanted to be is to be one of the people to be one of the Na'vi. she cannot deny that her own kind is greedy, and is willing to destroy everything just to achieve something that they have wanted and that is humanity. no matter who and what is on their way they are willing to destroy it.

(Y/n) is grateful that she has raised millions just to get an avatar body, stories of pandora always inspire her. to the point that she began thinking that she was born in the wrong body and she was born in the wrong kind, she can not comprehend why humans like to destroy something and that is one of the main factors why she feels like she is in the wrong world.

Thankfully she managed to sneak out a link pod and managed to hid it in the forest, she has spent many months on discovering a new place where the other avatars or the sky people hasn't discovered yet. she ran through the forest and expertly avoiding the obstacles that is in her way. you can not blame her for doing this she has tried to explain that destroying the tree of souls where the holiest and sacred place of the Na'vis will only kill the planet and its habitants.

But the narrow-minded humans doesn't understand the way eywa is connected through all, and it wasn't surprising humans have killed their mother nature back on earth and now they are seeking refuge in this world. only to repeat the history itself by killing Eywa.

After hours of running she has finally reached the link that she has hidden in the forest. she was certain that no one will find her and her dirty little secret, she went inside and laid down her avatar body at the huge bed she's been making the past few months and then proceeds to log out of the link pod.

She stared at her avatar body and proceeds to prepare herself a meal. She wonders how will she survive in this wilderness with only 9 months of food and water ration with her, she sighs as she picks up a book with for the language of Na'vi's as it is her dream to see and talk with a Native Na'vi. But she knew better, she knew that once a Native Na'vi sees here she will immediately die as they have a certain hatred to the sky people.

She kept reading and reading for hours quickly absorbing the content of the material in front of her until she feels her eyes need a break. She headed to the Link Pod again and logged her Avatar in, her consciousness regaining on her avatar self, she sat up and leaved the chambers. She gathered the materials to make a bow and a spear, and she worked for the bow.

After 30 minutes she finished it, admiring her work with the bow she's getting ready to make the spear when she felt a presence in her surroundings.

"Are you certain it's a single dreamwalker?" Jake asks Norm, he nodded "Yes, there has been 3 same reports on it and all of them was reported in a day" Norm confirmed and stared at Jake.

"Those Fuckers Ain't gonna give up on us don't they?" Jake bitterly spat those words out. Norm just remained silent and just left with Max. Jake felt his blood boiled as the memory of losing Neytiri and the home tree began to replay in his mind, he clicked his tongue from behind his teeth then whistled for his ikran. It flew down on him and he mounted it and then began to fly.

He put his hand on the Transmitter on his neck to contact Norm and said "Where did they spot this Dreamwalker?" and almost immediately he got the response that sent a shiver down his spine. "Near The Tree of Souls". He commanded his ikran to fly fast towards the direction of the sacred place of his people.

After a minute of flying he sees The Tree of Souls and noticed a chamber a few miles from it. He made his ikran land in the Tree of Souls and silently made his way to the familiar chambers he saw earlier, after a while of silent walking and jumping he finally reached the chamber.

He saw a dreamwalker, an avatar dressed with the sky people's clothes. He saw the imposter admiring her Self-Made Bow while smiling. He silently made his way on her back when he saw her ears twitched and he immediately jumped on her and locked her body while holding a knife on her neck. He breathed as he placed his lips on her ears and whispered

"Found you Bitch."

Part 2 is out now!

Eywa's Chance: Deja Vu? Pt.2

[ac-19]

Death - S. Carter (Full Metal)

Summary: you never think the last time is the last time, until it is.

Warning: sadness. death.

I wasn't due on the ship for deployment for another week even if Alpha team was going now to start the turnover for Bravo, but something in my gut was telling me to get on that plane and head out with the guys so that's exactly what I did.

"You're coming a week early?"

I nodded as I looked up at Alpha One. I was the team medic so I didn't have to go onto ship until deployment actually started which was in a week from bow but since Metal and I were on different teams now it would give me a chance to see him too since we're going back to back for deployment.

"Kind of bored at home."

"Right. It wouldn't have anything to do with Metal being deployed with Bravo right now would it?"

I shrugged and smiled.

"I better not catch you two having sex in the equipment room again."

"That was years ago now, you need to let that go."

He chuckled.

"Glad you're here (Y/N)."

I smiled as he walked off towards the boys and I got as comfortable as I possibly could and closed my eyes. This was a long flight and the least I could do was try and get some sleep.

Before I knew we had made it to ship and I was unpacking my bag when there was a knock on the doorframe. I smiled as I looked back over my shoulder and saw Metal standing there.

"Hey pretty girl."

"Hey you."

"You didn't tell me you were coming early."

"Kind of decided last minute. Thought I'd surprise you."

He nodded as he walked over to me and wrapped his arms around my waist and leaned his head onto my shoulder.

"What do you say we make up for lost time?"

"You better lock the door, your replacement still talks about that one time he caught us years ago."

Metal laughed.

"Let's just leave the door open and give anybody who walks by a show."

"You're crazy Scott Carter."

"Crazy about you."

Metal started kissing my neck and it was over from that moment on. I kicked the door closed at some point and just enjoyed being with him after weeks away from each other.

It was the middle of the night when his phone went off. He gave me a quick kiss and we said our I love you's and be safe before I rolled off his chest. He quickly got out of bed, got dressed and he was out of the door. I was used to this routine. This was the life we chose.

Whem morning rolled around I wandered around the ship for a bit until my phone started ringing. Lisa. I quickly answered the phone and brought it up to my ear.

"You're on ship right?"

"Yeah, what's up?"

"Sierra Whiskey call from Bravo One. We need you on deck when the helo gets here."

"Who is it?"

"Don't know yet."

"I'll be there."

When I ended the call I started running towards the deck praying to god that Scott wasn't the origin of the Sierra Whiskey call and that if he was that he would be okay. When I got on deck I was met with Lisa, the lieutenant commander for Bravo and the lieutenant commander for Alpha and I could tell by the looks on their faces that it wasn't good news.

"It's Metal isn't it?"

The lieutenant commander for Alpha nodded.

"How bad?"

"He got the brunt of the hit of an RPG. Helo is getting ready to head out to get him now."

I nodded as I swallowed the lump in my throat and I quickly pulled my hair up into a ponytail

"Is that the helo?"

"Yes."

I nodded as I started walking over to the helo.

"Petty Officer (Y/L/N) you cannot get on that helicopter. Full Metal is Bravo now. We just asked you here for your assistance."

"What is Scott's call sign?"

"He still goes by Alpha One."

I nodded.

"That means he's still a member of Alpha team. If Scott lives, you can discipline me any way you see fit Lieutenant, but if he dies we will never speak of this again."

"You two are together, I can't authorize this."

"Let her go. This might be the last time she sees him alive."

I looked over at the Lieutenant Commander for Bravo and nodded before I quickly got on the helo and strapped in.

When we landed and I saw Jason carrying Metal I knew it was bad. The guys quickly got him in the helicopter and Clay looked at me.

"You good?"

"Yeah, get me the med bag."

I ripped open Scott's shirt and assessed the damage and inhaled sharply. His chest was tore up. I took a deep breath and tucked my hair behind my ear.

"Right side of his chest isn't rising when he breathes."

I nodded at Jason's observation.

"Tension pneumothorax."

I looked down at my shaky hand as Clay handed me the needle decompresssion kit.

"You ever did one Clay?"

"Only on a pig."

"First time for everything. Switch with me."

Clay and I switched positions and I quickly clipped in as I focused my attention back on Clay. I talked him through putting the needle into Metal's chest and I sighed as a gush or air came out.

"Okay we're good. Give me some gauze so I can pack the rest of his wounds."

Clay handed me some gauze and I looked up at Metal's face as I pressed down on some bleeding.

"Come on baby. Stay with us."

"Incoming."

I looked over and saw the RPG headed straight for us. I hit the ground of the helo and Clay swiftly covered his body with mine. In the mist of everything I didn't grab any gear.

In the middle of getting shot at Scott started coughing and I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding. He was awake which was a good sign.

"What's going on?"

He tried getting up and Jason quickly pulled him back down by his shoulders.

"Easy buddy."

"What's happening?"

"You were hit with an RPG baby. We're flying you back to ship now."

"(Y/N)?"

"Yeah, I'm here."

"Can I get some morphine?"

I chuckled.

"Yeah. Yeah of course."

Once the shooting stopped Clay handed me a needle and some morphine from the med kit and I stuck it in Metal's arm.

"Your blood pressure is low so I can only give you one."

"Oh come on, my mom put more in my sippy cup when I was a baby."

I chuckled.

"Is it helping at all?"

"Yeah but it's not reaching my leg."

I furrowed my eyebrows.

"You're leg?"

I crawled over to his legs, hooked a finger into a hole in his pant leg and pulled it open. Shit his femur was broken.

"Clay get me the stabilizer kit."

"Okay baby this is going to hurt."

"Mhmm."

With Clay's help I stabilized Scott's leg and I crawled back over to his chest to continue packing his wounds. Scott put his hand down on my lap and I forced out a smile at him.

"You're gonna be okay."

"Two mikes out from ship."

"Babe do me a favor."

I nodded.

"Anything."

"Don't let the guys know I'm not actually made of Metal."

I chuckled.

"Ok it'll be our little secret."

"I love you so freaking much (Y/N)."

"Don't do that Scott. You're going to be okay."

"And if I'm not, I want you to know you're the best damn thing that's ever happened to me. I'm sorry I couldn't give you the life you imagined for yourself. Lean on the guys, they'll be there for you."

I shook my head as the helo began it's descend onto the ship.

"My life is perfect the way it is. I love you Scotty. Now hurry up and get better."

"I'll do my best love."

Scott was rushed off the helicopter and to the team doctors and Jason, Clay and I quickly got off the helicopter too.

"Metal's stable."

The lieutenant commander for Bravo nodded and he looked over at me.

"I know what's coming for me."

"What's that mean?"

"Means I'm probably gonna have to find a new job. Excuse me."

"Debrief can wait until Senior Chief Carter is out of surgery."

I nodded.

"Thank you for what you did Lieutenant."

He nodded.

"Of course."

"Whatever is going on here we've got your back (Y/N)."

I shook my head at Clay.

"I'm not gonna drag you down in my mess but thank you for that. Means a lot."

I put my head down and headed inside and sat down in the hallway as I waited for the doctors to come out with an update on Metal.

"Petty Officer (Y/L/N)?"

I looked up at the Lieutenant Commander for Alpha and shook my head as I saw the look on his face.

"No.."

"I regret to inform you of the passing of Senior Chief Carter."

"What happened? He was stable."

"The doctors will be out here to explain everything. I'm so deeply sorry (Y/N)."

I nodded.

"Can I debrief now? Get it over with."

"Don't worry about it."

I nodded as I hugged myself as I started bawling. I knew the danger of this job but I never thought he would die. I guess you never know the last time you see someone is going to be the last time.

The doctors came out and explained everything and I tried to focus but I couldn't. Once the doctors left I was so numb, I walked up to the deck and saw the helo carrying the rest of Bravo team descending onto deck.

Lisa stood by most likely waiting to tell the rest of the team that the love of my life was dead. I watched as they all got off the helo and walked over to Lisa. She spoke and Trent looked over at me and I swallowed the lump in my throat. He dropped his gear and walked over to me and wrapped his arms around me. I clung to him as I broke down crying and it wasn't long until everybody from Bravo had their arms wrapped around me.

I was on Alpha team but Bravo team felt more like a family to me than Alpha ever did. We stood there for a long time and Bravo had my back even once we were back stateside.

One by one they would come by and make sure I was okay. That held through especially after I found out I was pregnant, which in itself just felt like a cruel joke because I had always wanted kids but I was told early on in my career that my chances of carrying a pregnancy were slim to none because of exposure to some poisonous gas so I had made peace that I wasn't going to be a mother. Now with only a few weeks left before baby Carter's arrival I was preparing to be a single mother.

A knock on the door snapped me out of my thoughts and I furrowed my eyebrows as I walked to the door because I wasn't expecting anybody. I pulled open the door revealing Trent, Brock, Clay, Sonny, Stella, Ray, Naima, Jason, Emma and Mikey.

"Where's that crib at? I'm dang near an expert at building those now."

I chuckled.

"You guys didn't have to do this."

"You're family (Y/N). And so is this little guy. Put us to work."

I smiled.

"Second door on the right Sonny."

I smiled as everybody pilled into the house that Metal and I once shared.

Lean on the guys. They'll be there for you. Metal couldn't have been more right about that one. Baby Carter was going to have a big family and even if his dad isn't here he was going to have enough male role models in his life.

[sheeple]

Miracles don't exist | 8: Friends? Friends

Genre(s): Riddle!reader / Slytherin!reader / kinda slowburn / little happy moments Fandom(s): Harry Potter Pairing(s): Theodore Nott x Reader / Harry Potter x Riddle!reader Summary: Being the Dark Lord's daughter and raised under the strict supervision of the Malfoy's is no easy life. Especially if you start crushing on your father's arch-nemesis, Harry Potter. And that while being engaged to one of his follower’s sons. Warning(s): None this chapter [Masterlist] [Mini masterlist] [Playlist]

Sirius fusses over you, making sure your scarf is correctly tied and your mittens are in your pockets. "Rember, steer clear of Knockturn Alley. And if you don't trust something, just run in the opposite direction."

You laugh, pushing his hands away. "I'll be fine, Sirius. Don't worry. I promise to bring something delicious when I return."

Your cousin nods, anxiously chewing on the inside of his cheek. You grab Lupin's arm and gone you are.

"Remember, six o'clock at the Leaky Cauldron. Not a minute later." Lupin gives you a stern look before he disappears.

You let out a deep breath. Staying with Sirius is fun. He's kind and really interested in who you are and what you do at Hogwarts. He is also very happy to tell about the shenanigans he and his friends got up to during their school days.

But he can be quite a lot sometimes. Understandably, he wants some company after being imprisoned for so long.

You browse the shop windows, searching for Christmas presents you can give to your friends when you are back home. The thought makes you laugh. Friends. Yeah, you have Harry. And Draco is your cousin, so you have to count him. But who else? Gjol? Theodore?

No. Theodore is not your friend, no matter how much it hurt to think he's only friendly to you because he is forced by his family. All to get in good graces with your father.

Sugarplum's is where you go first, getting some tasty treats for Sirius. The inside of the shop smells sweet, like chocolate and sugar and you welcome it with a smile. 

Going row after row, you grab all sorts of cakes and candies. As you wait for the cashier to wrap up a box of chocolates, you spot a familiar face coming into the shop with his friends. You groan and turn around, praying to whoever is in the heavens above that he won't notice you.

"Well, well, well, look who we have here," Theodore smirks, leaning against the counter.

You sigh and turn to him. "Hello, Theodore. How is your Christmas break?"

He pushes himself off the counter so he towers over you, closing the distance. "A lot better now I've seen your pretty face." 

You feel your face heat up and turn away from him, biting on your bottom lips. Come on, you're better than this. He has grown a lot more flirty after the Yule ball.

The chocolates are finally wrapped up and put into a bag, so you take it and turn around and walk out of the shop. You hope Theodore gets the memo, but he's as stubborn as he always is.

"I was very sad to hear you're not at the Malfoy's Christmas party this year." He stuffs his hands in the pockets of his coat as he catches up to you.

You try to sigh irritated, but something inside of you just can't. "Shouldn't you be with your friends?" You not with your head towards the sweet shop.

Theodore shrugs, "they'll manage. Besides, I'm hanging out with you." He bumps his shoulder against you and you laugh. He gasps dramatically. "Was that a laugh? A genuine laugh from (Y/n) Black?"

You hush him. People around you are giving both of you weary looks at the mention of your last name. For as far as they know is Sirius Black still a mass murderer.

"At least don't shout if you're coming", you say while playfully rolling your eyes.

Theodore beams as he happily walks next to you, a triumphant look on his face. "So... where to next?"

You look around and decide on the bookstore. Theodore follows you through the crowd. He doesn't leave your side when you're in Flourish and Blotts. He looks over your shoulder to the book covers you study and even grabs a couple of books he deems interesting.

"What would you like for Christmas?", you ask him suddenly.

Theodore is a bit perplexed. He would have never guessed that you would do something for him, let alone buy him a Christmas present.

"Well...", he begins with a grin, wetting his bottom lip, "you could go on date with me."

You groan, pushing past him and continuing up a pair of creaky wooden stairs to reach a different section in the bookstore. This level is much quieter with almost nobody lingering around. 

"Theo, you don't have to pretend because of the whole arranged marriage deal."

A sigh leaves Theodore's lips as he corners you against one of the bookshelves, one hand placed next to your head. "How many times do I have to tell you that it has nothing to do with that? I just want to get to know you better, darling."

Your cheeks heat up as you look up into his eyes. "Darling?", you ask.

"Yeah", he smirks, "if you are calling me Theo, I am calling you Darling."

You want to sputter out that it was an accident, but a cough makes the both of you turn around. A witch stands next to you, her face beet red. "May I please..?" The motions for the shelf behind you and Theodore quickly takes a step away and grabs your hand to pull you with him. 

"Sorry", you say sheepishly and take your hand out of his. You both exit the bookstore, he with his cheeks flared up and you with heat creeping up your neck.

"Why are you so against the idea of me wanting to date you?" 

You turn your head abruptly towards Theodore, eyes big. "What makes you say that?" Were you that obvious?

You pull Theodore towards an empty alley and lean against the wall. You run a hand over your face. "It's not that I'm against it. It's the fact that our free will is taken away from us, again. There is, for me at least, this pressure to be perfect. The perfect daughter, the perfect Slytherin, the perfect heir.

"But you don't know how it is growing up with who my mother is. She may be locked up. But everybody I got close to ended up scared of me, abandoning me, or dead. Dead, Theodore! I don't want- I can't do that to you."

Theodore knits his eyebrows together, a frown forming on his forehead. He reaches out but stops just before his knuckles graze your cheek. "What about friends?", he asks in a whisper. 

"What about them?" You've chewed and nibbled at your bottom lip so that it started to bleed, the metallic taste hitting your tongue.

Theodore huffs in a mix of humour and frustration. "You and me, Black. At least give me that." A sly smirk grows on his face as he watches the corners of your mouth twitch. He's got you.

"Fine", you say in faux irritation, "friends."

He holds out his hand for you to shake. And when you do, he takes hold of your hand and tucks you under his arm. "So where to next friend?"

You laugh, shaking your head. "I was thinking of going to a muggle bookstore."

Theodore gasps dramatically, "a muggle bookstore? How very not perfect heir-like of you, (Y/n)."

A smile grows on your face as you and Theodore step through the portal to get back to muggle London. You know, if this is what a friendship is with Theodore, it might not be as bad.

Theodore lets you drag him all over muggle London, store after store. And before you knew it you had to run back to the Leaky Cauldron, bursting just in time through the doors.

Your eyes scan around the pub and don't spot Lupin. Thank Merlin. 

Theodore drops next to you on a bench all out of breath. "Why", huff, "did we", huff, "need to be here", huff, "again?", huff.

Catching your breath yourself, you wheeze out, "I agreed to meet my ride back here at six o'clock. Looks like he's not here yet."

"Where are you even staying if not with the Malfoy's?"

You still for a moment. You can't tell him the truth. Or at least, not all of it. "I'm staying with a cousin", is your simple answer.

At that moment the door opens and in steps Lupin. He spots you immediately and nods towards you, a silent way of saying 'wrap up your conversation and let's go.'

"I'll see you back at Hogwarts, yeah?" You stand up and grab the shopping bags you accumulated. "Have a nice Christmas, Theo."

You wave and walk out of the pub, grab Lupin's arm and gone you are.

Once your feet hit the ground of the entrance and the dizzyness has ebbed away, you gasp out. 12 Grimmault Place is decorated from top to bottom in Christmas regalia. it's all a bit dusty and wonky, but the house still looks absolutely stunning. There is even a Christmas tree in the front room next to the fireplace.

Sirius anxiously stands at the end of the hall, hands wringing together. "I thought I- you've─"

Lupin steps forwards when his friend stumbles over his words. "Sirius thought you deserved a nice Christmas. Or at least a Christmas tree."

You can't help yourself and go to hug Sirius. You've known this man for a couple of days, but you already know he is the kindest person on this earth.

"Thank you, Sirius. It's amazing."

Sirius wraps his arms around and you return the hug. "No problem, kid. Merry Christmas."

Taglist (bold means I couldn’t tag you): @the0doreslover @lqndkxlmqma @st4rrry @choppedpartymuffinwinner @dianaswanda @literallyobessed @lestat-whore​ @vanishingcherry

[keeksandgigz]

i got this lil idea while i was packing to go back to uni- also this is me doing an exercise with dialogue :)

"God- fuck how is it still forty-one pounds?" you groan in frustration after Eddie tosses your suitcase back on your bed.

"Well, sweetheart, I don't think a sweater weighs two pounds- that's just me though" he throws his hands in the air in defeat.

"But I'm literally leaving a bag here and so many fucking clothes" you seethe "There's only so much stuff I can move to my backpack"

He picks it up and whistles "Praying for your back, baby, this thing is heavy. I can carry it for you, though" he chuckles.

"Eddie I don't know what to do" you pout, throwing yourself on the bed.

"Alright, alright, lemme take a look" and with that, he opens your suitcase to a neatly- stacked pile of clothes, socks, underwear and various pouches and bags "Stop pouting, baby, it makes me sad" he adds, a feeble voice adds to his sad little puppy eyes.

"I am sad! If I have to leave one more thing I'll cry" you protest as he rummages through your suitcase.

"There's no need to cry, we can just take out this pair of jeans- you literally never wear them and- sweetheart, why the fuck do you have a candle in here?" he takes out the little heart shaped candle he bought you.

"Because you got it for me! And it's heart shaped! Plus it's tiny it doesn't weigh that much" you complain, taking it out of his hands and tucking it back into a corner of your suitcase.

"Baby, take it out, you don't need the candle" he gives it back into your hands as he scouts for more useless things you don't need to bring.

"Eddieeeee" you bury your head in the pillow and scream dramatically.

"Why do you need two full- sized perfume bottles?" he takes both of them out "Choose one to leave here"

"No, you can't make me choose! The chai one is my favorite perfume" now hit by sleep and exhaustion, you're delirious in your whiny rambles.

"Okay, so we'll leave the chai and take out the sugar flower one" he says, reaching for the pink bottle to place on your desk.

"No! I literally just got it. Stop being so mean" you cross your arms again.

He lays down next to you, placing a kiss on your temple "I'm sorry, sweetheart, but I'm trying to help you, I can't just magically make your suitcase lighter"

"No, you're literally the devil right now" you hit him with a pillow.

He just laughs, he finds it funny how you ramble nonsense when you're sleepy "I'm being a saint, actually. I could just go home and let you deal with this conundrum by yourself" he chuckles.

"If you were a saint you'd let me take both. God didn't tell Eve to choose between Adam and the apple, you're being the snake" at this point the delirious ramble just makes Eddie fall into fits of laughter over what the fuck you're talking about.

You're also laughing, aware of how silly you sound, all whiny and sad over a bottle of perfume.

"You gotta choose, sweetheart, or I'm not letting you take neither" he threatens, at that you tense up.

"Alright, fine, take out the chai one" you huff, as he puts the other one back in the suitcase and closes it up, putting it back on the scale.

"See, I'm a genius, baby. It's thirty- nine pounds now" he snickers to himself, gloating in his victory like he won boyfriend of the month. Your eyes light up.

"Does that mean I can put the candle back in?" all he does is groan in frustration.

[thestalwartheart]

RADI00Q: 31 SONGS FOR BOND AND Q GUEST SPOT: Drive You Home - Garbage Today's listener request is one for the 90s kids and 90s kids at heart. Garbage might have soundtracked Brosnan!Bond's era, but here's @phinniastuff to tell us why their 2001 song 'Drive You Home' is a 00Q anthem:

Hey. I'm Phinnia @ Ao3 and considering all of the issues Q has with Bond taking cars, I'd like to suggest 'Drive You Home' by Garbage. The lyrics and the song are melancholy and yearning; kind of like their relationship reads. [Lyrics under the cut]

Thanks for tuning into RADI00Q!

It's funny how Even now You still support me after all the things that I've done You're so good to me Waiting patiently And isn't it sad that you still have to ask if I care I never said I was perfect But I can take you away Walk on shells tonight Can't do right tonight And you can't say a word cause I leap down your throat So uptight am I I never said I was perfect But I can drive you home I got down on myself Working too hard Driving myself to death Trying to beat up the faults in my head What a mess I've made Sure we all make mistakes But they see me so large That they think I'm immune to the pain Walk on shells tonight Can't do right tonight And you can't say a word cause I leap down your throat So uptight am I I'm praying for a miracle But I won't hold my breath I never said I was perfect But can you take me home

[mehiwilldoitlater]

Smoker xReader age gap (modern AU)

Your age gap is pretty evident, to say the least. He is an officer, and you are an university student.

In some cases, this would be a concern for other people. I mean, the chance of Smoker being a manipulative fucker, using his position against a civilian, the fact that he's actually an older man, and you, a young woman, still need to understand how the world works.

But he's Smoker, and of course he's not someone like that.

First of all, he would prefer DIE than even believe that your relationship is made up and he's using some kind of control over you. From the beginning, he always made it clear that if he ever made something that could make you uncomfortable, scared, or even insecure, he would just disappear. You don't need those kinds of things, and he's far more considerate than anyone could ever believe.

Of course, this could lead to other kinds of problems.

Since his position has been granted some sort of respect by many, you have no shield against the world. He could have some enemies and find out about you, or someone could even believe that you're nothing more than a girl who has found an old and wealthy man and played the pretty girl just to gain something. It's not unusual, and it's not a crime, but it's so far away from your relationship. 

Yes, he may or may not have idealized you a little too much, seeing you more like an innocent little girl praying to the world than an actual woman, ready to take her first leap in life. You had to remind him from time to time, but it's still sad to hear what others had to say about you (about being a manipulative little minx) and remember the day that you both finally had a nice day off together and you were so excited by just spending some quality time with your boyfriend (his heart almost collapsed from that small word).

The second problem was more personal. He wasn't that old, but he deserved a young, fine man, not him! You needed someone to whom you could relate—not an old officer who happened to have a small crush on a nice young girl! He felt so bad and sick, to be fair, but he tried to avoid you and those feelings! Why did you have to reciprocate?!

Still, he couldn't say that this was the worst relationship in his life. He was happy, looking forward to your nightly phone chat, talking about your day, your lessons, and his work, as well as the bad guy that he had arrested that day. Knowing that you were a little more safe from criminals was a goofy thought that led him to sleep every night. Of course he did spoil you a little, maybe buying you a few staff here and there, but he knows how difficult life is when you're in college! And he saw your fridge… His grumpy retorts weren't just made to scold you; they were a caring way to help you finally buy some decent food! You can't survive on ramen; come on! But he was proud to know that instead of just enjoying his money, you decided to find a part-time job to help yourself. You were so independent; he likes that! He'll still buy you that new laptop that you need for your lessons and help you with the groceries.  

You're not even those kinds of partu animals that he had to arrest from time to time. You weren't that kind of girl; you preferred small parties with people that you knew—some drinks, yeah, but nothing that could lead to devastating hangovers. You tried once, just once, to go to those parties.

It was terrible, but you were able to meet Smoke! He was called because the music was so loud, but he was the nicest (and best-looking) police officer you've ever met!

He liked those days when he needed to work on some documents and you needed to study for some exams. The house was filled with the aroma of his cigar and the brewing of your tea. Click on his computer and the pages of your books. You stopped only when it was finally time to eat dinner.

There was some small thought. Imagine that after you had eaten all the food from the table, you didn't have to go back to your campus when you could finally stay there permanently with him—maybe with a ring on your finger.

But those were thoughts for another day.

[thebeldroramscal]

Part 5 - Night Cap

Part 4 - Dessert

PAIRING: Joel Miller x afab!fem!reader

RATING: Fun for all the family, close to ZERO smut here. I know, i know.

SUMMARY:    You pray he isn't packing to leave; aftercare is crucial for you, and you've been denied it too many times before. You chastise yourself for not speaking about this beforehand. But do you want someone to hold you out of obligation? It's a complicated dilemma. All you can do is hope, gather some comfort food, and find a good book to take downstairs if your aftercare is left to you.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Aftercare Aftercare Aftercare!!! Doms looking after subs, subs looking after Doms. Let's aftercare wholly!!

WORD COUNT: 2.5kish

Previously...

His arms wrap around you. They could wrap around you twice. He holds you so tight and you can't keep it in. The sex, the quality of the sex, the adrenalin dump, the pain, the care. You feel yourself begin to fall like a tower of Jenga. It was a lot to process and you can't stop yourself from crying. It's not a sad cry, or even a happy cry, it's a fucking release. He doesn't say anything. He knows exactly what's happening and he is perfectly equipped to deal with this. He holds you there, one hand on the back of your head, gently stroking your hair in complete silence. You pull away and look at him. He wipes your tears and licks them off his fingers. Awkward moment averted.

“Do you want to run upstairs and put something comfortable on?  Grab all the pillows and blankets you can, bring them down here, I don’t have anywhere to be.  If you don’t have anything on..’

“give me 5 minutes” you look at him, there's nothing but kindness in his face.

“ok”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You remember the sensation vividly. Standing upright and walking feels so different compared to being bent over a crate after being on the receiving end of a good caning. The wounds on your skin, the way it stretches with each step, send a deep, dull ache through you. But it's a pain you don't resent; you savor it. It makes you feel intensely sexy and it's a siren's call to Joel. As you glance in the mirror, you catch sight of him standing still, watching you walk away. His face is unreadable, adding to the thrill.

“I think I might have a shower.  Do you want one?”

“No.  Thanks.  I’m okay.  Take your time.”

Joel's voice is quiet and calm. The tail of the blanket you're wrapped in trails behind you as you climb the stairs to the bathroom. You run a hot shower, and when the water first hits your marked skin, it's agony—a pain that makes you grit your teeth and growl. Eventually, it subsides, and you know you have to wash carefully. You do so, gently, methodically. As you shampoo and condition your hair with your trusty 2-in-1 to rid you of any remaining rice and wine, you hear noises from the basement—a lot of shuffling. Curiosity piques.

You dry yourself meticulously, wring your hair and pat your wounds dry. They hurt, but there's a sense of pride in bearing that pain. You slide on plain underwear and a cropped bralette, choosing the possibility of comforting skin-on-skin contact with Joel over warmth. You pray he isn't packing to leave; aftercare is crucial for you, and you've been denied it too many times before. You chastise yourself for not speaking about this beforehand. But do you want someone to hold you out of obligation? It's a complicated dilemma. All you can do is hope, gather some comfort food, and find a good book to take downstairs if your aftercare is left to you.

Re-wrapped in Joel's blanket, you gather quilts from your bed. Your arms are full.  As you shuffle downstairs you realize—he's not leaving, he's moving things around. The relief is intense and immediate.

Joel hears you coming. He stops what he's doing and turns to watch you. He doesn't offer to help, not out of a desire to see you struggle, but because he's coming down from an intense high, cherishing this precious window of time. He just wants to see you.

You stop briefly to watch him watch you. His face is framed by his gorgeous greying curls and his piercing, soulful eyes reflect your feelings of serenity back at you and both of your stares are unwavering. What a fucking beautiful human.

Standing there shirtless, his broad shoulders and strong arms are undeniable, his soft body exudes a comforting warmth that you long to nestle into. He's wearing tracksuit pants, a practical choice that makes you wonder if he anticipated getting covered in homemade wine and food. It's clear he planned for everything.  This level of forethought and preparedness adds to his undeniable allure. Who is Joel Miller?

You look around the basement, noting how spotless it is. He had swept the rice outside and used the already dirty blanket to clean up the spilled wine. A much nicer mattress now occupies the room, replacing the crappy bed that can return to its graveyard.

What's that smell? You’re intrigued by the pleasant, almost perfumed scent.

“Lavender”

You look at him, puzzled.

"You had oil lamps. Lavender grows everywhere ‘round here, so I made some oil. No big deal."

The undercurrent of his words is clear: he had spent time planning and preparing for this moment, thinking about it carefully. He needs this just as much as you do. It's not just about physical intimacy; it's ceremonial. This is the standard you used to insist on in the old world, a standard you never expected to see again given the circumstances.

"You pick up a lot when you're out…there," he says, gesturing outside. His face seems softer, his brows less furrowed. His skin is glistening slightly, presumably from a wash outside under the garden tap. The sight of him, freshly cleaned and clearly having come prepared for anything, is undeniably sexy.

You nod, unsure of what to say, and drop everything in your arms to the ground. The blanket covering you falls, leaving you standing there in nothing but your underwear.

"Don't move" he says softly, a gentle request that carries weight.

He finally steps forward, moving from the spot where he had been standing, bringing with him an aura of admiration.

"Fuck, you're beautiful," he murmurs, almost to himself.

"Turn around. Let me see our art."

Our art. Those words resonate deeply. It's not just his work; it belongs to both of you, a shared creation. You oblige, your hands over your heart, your cheeks and chest flushing not from embarrassment, but from the overwhelming connection you feel with him. It's a connection that's hard to achieve even with someone you've known for a long time, let alone someone you've just met.

"Underwear down," he commands gently, a request you could easily refuse without fear of consequence. It's clear he knows what he's doing. You've moved beyond the scene, past the "funishment" session; now, it's about creating a bond of reassurance and comfort.

He circles you, his gaze not only taking in the welts but also admiring your curves. His eyes trace the nape of your neck, the soft slope of your back, your hips, and where your thighs meet. So much unexplored territory. He runs the back of his fingers gently down the side of your face and his thumb over your lips. Holding your head in both hands, he kisses your forehead tenderly. You raise your hands to touch his elbows, the skin-on-skin contact heightening the sensation. His eyes are filled with tender care, silently conveying his feelings.

He walks toward his bag, rummaging through it without issuing any command for you to stop watching. There’s no "eyes forward" or other instruction. You both share a moment of silence, a shared space of mutual respect and understanding.

He pulls a Polaroid camera from his bag, and you're immediately taken aback. Of all the things he could have, this is both surprising and thrilling. You haven't seen one since the '90s and never thought you'd see one again. He looks at the camera, then at you, with a half-smile.

"Now this? This stays between you and me, within these walls," he says, shaking it gently. The camera rattles, and you imagine it must have been fixed countless times to keep it functional. You nod, still in shock. "I'm not proud of how I got it, but I have it. Maybe it can be for us. I've been waitin' for a reason to use it…" His voice trails off, and he seems a bit unsure, as if trying to mask potential rejection.

The gravity of his words isn't lost on you. Sharing such a priceless piece of history - finite history- is an incredible honor. You feel a surge of pride, knowing you're worthy of something so rare, precious, and beautiful.

"I'd really like that," you say, nodding and smiling gently at him. He quickly meets your gaze. "Oh yeah? Good. OK."

"C'mon, over my knee," he gestures as he walks toward the crate he’d been sitting on earlier, picking up his jar of arnica on the way. "We’ve gotta look after these." We. It’s been a long time since you’ve been part of a "we."

You position yourself over his knee, making your arse and thighs easy to reach. He is gentle with the cream, covering your bruises and potentially bruised skin with care.

"May I?" he asks, shaking the Polaroid camera.

"Of course."

You hear the click of the camera, a familiar yet long-forgotten sound.

"No using this. Let's say for now, I decide when it's used."

"Of course, I just can't believe you’ve got one. One that works. One you’re willing to use on -…"

"It's for memories” he interjects, “This is one I’d like to keep." He gently rubs the cream down your thighs until there's none left on his hand. He pulls your underwear from your ankles up over your knees, and you stand to pull them the rest of the way up.

He helps you steady yourself. Your wounds have settled into a deep, dull throb. The pile of pillows and blankets beckons you from across the room. It’s cold in the basement, and apart from your glowing arse, you’re shivering with goosebumps covering your skin. As you gather the bedding, you hear Joel fiddling with his stuff again. He brought food! Bananas, electrolyte drinks, strawberries…

“What the fuck, Joel! This is beyond…”

“Yeah, well, what goes up must come down.”

Your eyes lock with his for a moment longer than usual as he finishes emptying his bag. “What goes up must come down.” That phrase is possibly the most comforting thing you could have heard at that time. It confirms his familiarity with subdrop, and maybe even Domdrop. You feel a wave of relief rush over you. Being alone after heavy play is extremely difficult. You feel vulnerable, confused, apprehensive, and worried all at once, while also tending to any physical wounds. Having someone stay by your side as the intensity of your session subsides is reassuring and really cements the importance and respect you have for each other.

“The most important part,” he says, holding up a bag of something. “My neighbor makes this fudge. She always gives me too much, and it… well, yeah, it…” His voice trails off as he looks at the fudge.

“Why do you do that?”

“What?”

“Stop talking or trail off. Like what you’re saying is unimportant or stupid or something?” You throw the pillows onto the mattress and walk closer to him. “You can talk here. You have space.” You touch the side of his arm in a gesture of comfort. He reflexively pulls away but quickly corrects himself, allowing your touch to linger. You make a mental note to be careful about initiating touch in the future.

He looks at you and then at the ground. He obviously has some trauma; everyone who survived the outbreak does, and everyone responds differently. Joel seems to be apprehensive about touch. Or is he apprehensive about affection? Learning things like this about each other is easier after a session. Another reason you were always insistent about aftercare that goes beyond a hug and some band-aids. You were especially insistent about aftercare for your Dom/top. They have feelings too, and you’ve seen the emotional turmoil that can happen to them if left unattended.

“And I will listen." you continue, "I WANT to listen. To whatever subject, for however long. You have a voice here with me.” Your touch on his arm turns into a gentle squeeze.

"OK," he nods. "Ok."

He rustles around in the blankets, grunting as he sits on the mattress, back propped against the wall.

"Showing your age there, man" you quip as you lower yourself extra slowly, hissing between your teeth at the pain.

“Oh yeah?" he says, making a playful jab at the intense care you had to take from standing upright to laying on the floor. He throws a half-smile in your direction and pats a pillow he placed in his lap. "C’mere old lady. Lie down for a bit, you need to try this" he says, his voice carrying more melody and happiness than usual. You lay down on the mattress and rest your head on the pillow in his lap. You have to push the thought that you can both see up each other's noses out of your brain. Nobody needs that brand of funny right now.

"Open your mouth." He gently places a piece of his neighbor's fudge in your mouth and uses his fingers to playfully clamp your lips.

"Fucking hell," your eyes widen. "Joel, this stuff is GOOD. It’s OLD WORLD good."

"Uh huh," he says, eating a piece of fudge “told ya”.  He looks down at you. There's serenity in his face. You both sit in comfortable silence as he plays with your hair, and you finger a tiny hole in the leg of his tracksuit pants. It’s one of those moments that are nothing but everything.

"Lay with me," he says again. It's not a demand; you’d hoped he would stay but didn’t want to press it. You know he’s a closed-off person and are conscious that he may spook easily, not wanting to rush things. You are happy to take things at the pace they naturally progress. This, though? This is perfect.

You lay down facing each other, both on your sides. You’re wrapped in his arms again. He radiates heat, and you’re immediately warm. Your fingers gently trail a line up and down his spine, and he pulls you as close to him as he comfortably can. Your legs are intertwined, the skin on your torsos touching; it’s a physically and emotionally intimate moment that words could never give justice to.

The soft glow of the oil lamps create a warm atmosphere the colour of honey.  His fingers trace the curve of your jaw that sends a wave of goose bumps over your skin.  Your hand makes its way to his neck, fingertips slowly exploring the hills and crests to rest gently over the quickening flicker of his pulse in his carotid artery.  You could could literally feel the beat of his life under the tips of your fingers. His hand glides up your body, stopping gently at the nape of your neck. His nose grazes against yours, and you tilt your face so your lips are just a whisper away from touching. Neither of you speaks; every emotion is conveyed through your eyes, your hands, and the rhythm of your synchronized breathing.

The closeness is electric, your shared breaths mingling in the small space between you. His lips capture yours in a kiss that is tender and fiercely passionate.  A soft moan escapes you and he opens his eyes, searching for any hesitation.  All he can see on your face, in your eyes, is desperate hunger.

He firmly cradles your head, deepening the kiss with overwhelming desire.  Your mouths move in harmony, exploring, tasting and devouring each other’s lust. Each gentle brush of his tongue against yours makes you crave more.  No matter how many times you feel his lips on yours, you are overpowered with intense craving.  Soft, full…skilled, they are fucking magnificent.

You’re reminded that these are the moments you need to savour.  You’re both filling a drought stricken ocean of intimacy, touch, care and affection.  It’s a moment of pure, unfiltered emotion and affection.

Your fingers graze the side of his neck and thread themselves through his greying curls.  As the ferocity of this kiss grows you tug at his hair as if to pull him closer to you, inside you.

Your legs had become so intertwined that you were able to use each others thighs to grind against.  Though, this was not the type of “accelerating to sex” kiss most people would assume it to be.  It was a kiss that was to stand alone.  It was the kind of kiss that seals a bond on the activities that had let to this moment. 

You don’t know how long you had been kissing. It felt like an eternity. When you finally pull away, your faces rest against each other, both of you breathing in ragged gasps. You continue to gently sway towards each other, feeling each other’s presence in your own personal space. Small, tender, almost leisurely kisses punctuate the moment, and neither of you speaks. As the intensity dissipates, exhaustion from the day’s activities swiftly sets in. You are unable to fight it and easily drift into sleep. Joel hadn't been sure if he was welcome to stay, but you fall asleep on his arm and on top of the bag of his neighbours fudge. He takes this as your unspoken consent and gently rolls you onto your side, holding you like a little spoon as he allows the gravity of the day to flow through him and send him to sleep.