#just stuck in Joker's head when he's so damn sad

[kauriart]

Paragon, Renegade, Pilot

Chapter 6

A NSFW Mass Effect fic | Joker/Kaidan/f!Shepard | Read it on AO3

Joker doesn’t remember Alchera.

Not much of it anyway. He’d broken his–– well, a lot. Little hairline breaks skittering up the bones of his legs like burns from a lightning strike, and a pelvis fracture that was a burst of agony so bright he thought he was dying when it happened.

But he remembers what came before. The sudden blare of the warning siren that made his guts drop down to his toes. Bellowing Shepard’s name into the comm even as he wrenched the ship into a wild and completely hopeless evasive maneuver. The heart-stopping impact that had shredded the Normandy’s shields. And the next, that had torn through her hull with a sound as horrifying as a Reaper’s scream. The wash of red that had lit up his console even as several feeds had fizzled into static. The upper third of Engineering was gone. Gravity on deck two was flickering in and out. Oxygen levels compromised. Hull integrity compromised. Radiation spiking. Fires all along the third deck. And the tiny, heart-stopping blips of two more incoming barrages.

The Normandy was lost.

And it had taken less than two minutes.

Escape pod five deployed. Escape pod four deployed.

A third impact straight to Normandy’s heart. The death rattle of splintering steel and the strange pop of electrical fires bursting into the vacuum of space. Screams. Audible above even the din of the Normandy’s alarms; someone was screaming.

Escape pod two deployed.

And Shepard, cursing, hair slick-stuck to her face through her visor. Pulling Joker bodily from his chair, clapping an emergency ventilator over his face, and dragging him toward the last viable escape pod.

He remembers fighting her. Digging in his heels because he couldn’t — couldn’t walk away while the Normandy burned. It was so awful, and wrong, and undignified an end.

But he’d never been a match for Shepard in strength or in stubbornness. So she'd dragged him through the wreck of the Normandy, hallways dark with smoke and blinking lights, and bodies floating through them in slow motion like some terrible dream.

He'd laughed, he remembers. Nerves spilling over in the worst possible way. Good thing he can fly, he’d have made a terrible marine.

And then they’d reached the escape pod. Shepard had punched the button on the hatch, and the doors slid open. Built for twenty, the rounded dome of space inside seemed unnecessarily large. She’d pitched him in without ceremony, and hung back while he strapped himself into the narrow semi-padded seat.

Three seconds. Four?

Her face was turned away, hair loose and unruly inside her helmet. Like flames trapped in a bottle.

In that moment she had never been more beautiful.

And then something on the Normandy had blown up behind her, shoving her roughly into the doorframe of the escape pod.

The emergency lighting died abruptly.

Still, enough fire to see by.

A brief, horrid moment when their eyes locked.

Shepard’s silhouette, frozen. Wreathed in smoke and red and blue flames.

I’m sorry.

He couldn’t hear her, but he could see her lips move, see her punch the hatch again.

Then the door slid shut between them.

The sound of the locks releasing was the sound of his own heart breaking. He could hear it above the din of his own screams. Above the roar of the boosters beneath the escape pod. Above the concussive blast of the last salvo, as what was left of the Normandy exploded.

Thirteen minutes.

He remembers thirteen of the worst minutes of his life. Alone in the escape pod as it hurtled towards Alchera. Screaming for Shepard so hard he’d nearly thrown up all over himself. The constant jostle of descent and the impact of the landing were only half-dampened by the internal shocks of the escape pod.

He’d passed out after about three minutes planetside.

That part was nice.

The rest of Alchera was wrapped in cotton wool. No one else who escaped had been injured, bar some superficial burns and abrasions. And all of the pods that had launched had reached the surface without incident, so Joker had Chakwas’ entire emergency stash of painkillers all to himself.

(Yay.)

He doesn’t remember what the days between the crash and the rescue were like –– when rations were sparse and hope, even sparser. He just remembers waking up in some Alliance hospital on the Citadel to the glare of harsh overhead lighting, and the sharp smell of chemical disinfectants in his nose, and an entire galaxy in mourning.

Shepard was on every screen and omni-tool in sight, in every whispered conversation. Her name rippled across the hospital ward, caught in an endless current of shock and speculation.

He wishes he had never left the Normandy. He wishes he had never thought to try and stay. 

In his dreams, he grabs Shepard, pulls her into the escape pod, and never lets go. In his nightmares… it ends differently, but not much worse than what actually happened. Shepard dies. Shepard always dies.

But none of it matters because when he wakes, Shepard is still dead.

***

All in all, Joker isn’t sure what hurts worse. The way Kaidan’s entire body is so heavy with grief that he rarely sits up straight anymore, or the way Kaidan looks at him. Not like a murderer. Not like the impetus of all this disaster. Not like the one who should abso-fucking-lutely have been left behind to die; to freeze or burn or get spat out into the silence of the stars.

Kaidan looks at Joker like he’s glad he’s still alive. And fuck him. Honestly. 

Of the myriad of things Joker’s ever wanted from Kaidan, forgiveness isn’t one of them.

He’d rather have rage. Hate. Abuse, even. But there isn’t a mean bone in Kaidan’s body, which is suddenly, irrationally, unfair. And for one bright moment he thinks if it had been reversed, Shepard would have yelled at him at least once for being so goddamn in love with a ship that he had to look around, had to say good-bye, had to waste those precious seconds like the fucking idiot he is. 

But the Normandy was made of mortal stuff. It was Shepard who was indestructible. Shepard who could walk through fire. Shepard who could badass her way out of any situation. Shepard who thought Joker’s life was worth more than the risk of taking two more steps to save them both.

So he’s angry at Kaidan because he can’t be angry at Shepard. 

And he’s even more angry at Kaidan because Kaidan doesn’t even have the decency to be angry back.

So in the wake of the attack on the Normandy, Joker had avoided him. He didn’t have to try very hard –– there were medical panels and PT, and a thousand debriefs, and then a thousand more when the brass realized he was the last person who had seen Commander Shepard alive, and he couldn’t explain why she hadn’t walked forward half a foot and then shut the escape pod hatch. 

He never told anyone about that last I’m sorry. It was too personal. The only moment he shared with Shepard that belonged to him alone, and he wasn’t about to give it to the Alliance for a panel of specialists and psychiatrists to pick apart. Fuck, no.

And so a month later all of the Normandy’s Alliance crew had been cleared for active duty, except Joker. Still under medical observation. Two words that meant he was grounded. Two words that really meant fuck you, you don’t deserve a ship.

And so the first time he sees Kaidan –– really sees him –– is the day of Shepard’s funeral. 

And Kaidan looks so...

He lists.

Like a ship with a fatal hull breach, leaking air and eezo in equal parts.

He hurts to look at, so Joker keeps his eyes on his own shoes for much of the ceremony.

There’s an Alliance chaplain of sorts, saying things that don’t make any sort of sense. Words like calm and rest could never apply to the Commander. Shepard was all passion and strength and mule-headed courage. She was light. She was chaos. 

She wasn’t…

(supposed to die)

…this.

The coffin upon the altar is open, but there is nothing inside. Or not nothing, but no Shepard; just a truly spectacular arrangement of white flowers. Some are recognizably from Earth. Others aren’t. A few glow, dappling the inside of the coffin with the light of tiny stars. 

It’s…

(wrong)

… pretty, he supposes. The way mortals mourn a God.

Lacking a body to bury they’d all been asked to leave a token. The Normandy had been Shepard’s home. The crew, her family. 

Garrus leaves a brand new Black Widow sniper rifle, modded to the hilt.

Dr Chakwas leaves an ice blue bottle of what looks to be very expensive brandy and a single crystal glass.

Wrex leaves a headbutt that splinters the outer shell of the coffin a little and sends the Alliance aide in charge of the ceremony into a full-blown panic, stalling the funeral for a good half-hour.

Kaidan…

Joker doesn’t see what Kaidan leaves.

When the time comes, he can’t bear to look.

But he hears Liara say “Oh, Kaidan,” in a voice so small and heartbroken that Joker’s eyes grow thick with tears and he can’t see what the rest of the crew leaves either. He keeps his head bent and his attention on the tiny drops that fall from his eyes onto the tips of his shoes. He floats safely for a little while in that liminal space between reality and grief, where everything is fuzzy and gray and empty.

Then someone –– Tali?–– rests a hand on his shoulder, urging him forward.

Oh.

It’s his turn.

Oh no.

Joker has no memories of Shepard that aren’t stamped across his heart. Nothing. They didn’t share anything tangible that he could hold onto. Just cockpit conversations and evacs and the rare blessing of her smile.

And once, an apology.

And now all he has to leave is a note. Just one word. A shakey, heartbeat of a scrawl crumpled in his fist.

Forgiven.

But he doesn’t want to forgive Shepard for dying. He doesn’t. And even if he did, he can’t grant absolution to an empty box. To a pile of things that weren’t even hers. His hand shakes. He keeps seeing it: tangled red hair, and fire, and Shepard’s lips moving on a pair of words he’d never heard her utter in her life.

I��m sorry.

He can’t move forward, and he can’t move back.

Who is he to withhold forgiveness? 

A fucking coward, that’s who.

He got her killed in the first place. And then she did the impossible — she died. Now neither of them deserves forgiveness.

He staggers back a step, and then another, breath all stopped up with a sob. And then he can’t see through the tears, can’t hear above the sound of himself losing a grip on his pathetic guilt, can’t think — and very much doesn't want to. But he feels his body moving, and the lancing strike of grief and panic as he turns and shoulders past his former shipmates.

Sounds blur. The lights of the citadel streak past like stars. But it isn’t until he’s back in his apartment that his brain processes the feel of a hand sliding against his own –– a broad sturdy touch, clammy with sweat and sorrow. Someone had tried to pull him back to himself.

Maybe it was Shepard’s ghost.

***

Time passing on the ground is nothing at all like time passing in space.

It’s lonelier for one thing. Everyone assumes space is lonely because it’s so damn big and so damn empty. But as if to compensate, the world of a ship is always so utterly full. There’s always noise and lights and screens dotted with information and alerts. The haptic feedback of it all; tiny thrums of vibration beneath his fingertips; the give and take of all the switches and buttons, not smooth, but stippled with tiny bumps and ridges so he can mark his place even in the pitch dark.

A ship breathes. The movements of her crew  — always wedged shoulder to shoulder even when they don’t actually touch — flow like a fully functioning circulatory system, like something alive. The steady rhythm of the Normandy always matching his own. Like the ship paced itself to his heartbeat. Like it would do that for him.

No other ship had felt quite like she did.

Here it’s just�� silent. Hours and hours of nothing at all. Nothing to keep his hands busy, or his mind busy, or to soothe the sensation of being dragged through an endless hallway filled with smoke and fire and weightless bodies.

He’s given up the monotony of flipping through his datapad, blankly looking at random crap on the net. The Alliance is still blocking him from active-duty information (the pricks), and all anyone seems to be talking about is Shepard’s death — aggravating because his mind always fills in the little details that no one else knows.

Red and blue fire.

A tangle of sweat-soaked hair.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

“Fuck,” Joker scrubs a hand over eyes that sting with the memory of smoke. “Fuck, fuck.”

Still. Being inside his apartment is slightly better than being out of it. At least he can wallow without feeling judged. After a couple of weeks, he stops eating very much because it’s more bother than it’s worth. And he stops showering very much because, same.

And then he stops taking his meds. 

Not like, all of them. Just the ones that make him dream with perfect clarity. Because he doesn’t dream of Shepard or Kaidan anymore, or rather he does, but not in a sexy nut-in-your-pants kind of way. He dreams about how Shepard died. Sometimes he dreams of getting lost in an endless hallway filled with fire and death, sometimes it’s the escape pod and the look on Shepard’s face when she slammed the hatch shut between them. Sometimes it’s the aftermath, watching her run out of air, freeze to death, or just drift forever in the cold and dark and he wakes up, retching over the side of his bed because the absolute last thing he wants to experience in fucking high-definition is Shepard's slow and painful death.

So yeah, he doesn’t take those meds.

It doesn’t make the nightmares stop, because the nightmares never stop. But it makes them bearable. If he still watches Shepard die every other night at least it's through the foggy surrealness of normal dreams. Awful, but not soul-shattering.

So he trades emotional pain, for physical; the return of that rusty awfulness in his joints, and he spends an hour each morning aching and running his hands under hot water to make it stop. But it doesn't matter. What the fuck does he need good hands for if he isn’t flying a ship?

He doesn’t tell Dr Chakwas that his pain is worse, even when she asks point blank. Instead, he answers every one of her messages promptly and in as chipper a tone as he can manage in case the Alliance has finally decided it wants its most brilliant pilot back.

(They don’t.)

He knows Dr Chakwas is pushing for him to be released from medical observation, but since it really isn’t medical observation he doesn’t have much hope.

He flips his datapad on again, then off.

Then he flips it on again. And he wonders if this is all that he'll have, for the rest of his life.

[anemia-rp]

"Well I think the biggest difference between them is that clowns are waaaaaaaay scarier looking than jesters. Really? Mine is Aries and everyone thinks that we're aggressive and arrogant, and I think that's not true about me. Okay so I might be a little spicy, but I'm small, I have to be!" Reno shook her head, she just couldn't imagine him being scary! She was sure he must have had a little bit of a scary side to him like most people, but she really couldn't see him walking around being a mean or scary to people for no reason. That's probably what she liked most about him, his sweet and fun personality.

"Of course I won't be! You're super cute and sweet and fun!" She smiled brightly "You really think so? Maybe I could dress up as her some time, but maybe not in those little shorts. I don't think I could pull them off with my little stick legs." She laughed and looked down at her legs "Yeah? I will make you look so cute! Well extra cute! And is that your new name for me? Because I like it!" She shook her head with a sheepish smile. "I wouldn't do that, needles make me uncomfy. I know it doesn't make sense since I have piercings and tattoos, but that's Reno logic for you!" Well maybe it made a little sense, since she never looked when she got her tattoos or piercings "Well now you make me want to dress up like a kitty cat! I wanna be spoiled and cuddled." She said with a cute smile. "I won't tell him you called him a pet." She gave a playful wink and held her finger up to her lips. "Maybe that might possibly be the kind I mean." she could feel her cheeks turning pink as she admitted it. "I have two... A pink and white one and a plain white one."

She could feel her cheeks heating up again when he brought her hand between his legs, honestly feeling a bit of an ego boost when she felt how turn on he was. "All because of me?" she peaked at him with her cheeks even brighter than before but, that didn't stop her from touching him. After all she wanted him to feel good too since he had been spoiling her.

"Aggressive 'n' arrogant? Ah no way!", he instantly blurted out and laughed. "Nah, can't see either how that should be ya. Anyway, Scorpios are supposed to be secretive, 'n' could be that's true…although nooo one would think that 'bout me." He winked. In fact he could babble for hours but not quite reveal much about himself. So people would barely notice that it was the case.

"I'm just like a candy, eh?", he wondered and stuck out his split tongue. Yes, he was a jester, aiming to make others laugh and happy. Not liking it to talk about sad and negative things, almost never. Always looking on the bright side of life. But this didn't mean he only had positive thoughts and a positive life since his birth. "Oooor we're reversin' the roles 'n' I dress up as Harley 'n' you as a Joker! How would that be, huh?" His creative ideas were endless most of the time, that's why several bands appreciated his input. "Ya can call me whatever ya like!", he encouraged her before he gazed at her for some while as if he needed time to figure her out. "Reeeeally? But guess there's a difference between all the different kinds of needles, eh?" He smiled then. "But listen!" Shifting closer to her he whispered into her ear. "I'm gonna spoil ya 'n' cuddle ya even if ya not dressed up as a kitty." He giggled afterwards. "Goood. Naw, ya gotta show meeee cuz Imma the kewtest!" His excitement was never faked, it was easy to enthuse him.

"Uhu." He swallowed thickly. "Cuz ya so kewt for me. 'n' have such nice boobies." A shudder went through him and he moaned, looking into her eyes meanwhile, and his own eyes went darker, too, in his growing arousal. "Ya hand's…damn nice…."

[extravaguk]

#JeonJungkookIsOverParty 06

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: in which Jungkook Can't Take (His) Eyes Off Of you

wordcount: 1k

genre: fake dating!au, college!au | fluff

warnings: none at all

author’s note: so im like super sad and i thought posting this would make me feel better. this chapter is the shortest out of all 10, but it might also be my favourite one. also the cheesiest thing ive ever written anyway can you believe we're already halfway through the fic? damn

taglist: @spicybangtanwings @dulcehobi @mysugarkoo @eektaetae @jeojahari @mwitsmejk @di0rgguk @the1921-monsters @c4lico @drownforryou @re-rewind @neverthefirstchoice

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06

"You know when a song gets stuck in your head and you won't stop hearing it?"

Jungkook listens to that song for the first time while he's playing Call of Duty: Black Ops. His headphones are resting around his neck, his hoodie thrown over his head and his vision starting to get teary and foggy after spending four hours killing zombies. There's a Monster drink on his desk, an almost empty bag of mostly crumbs of Fritos and an anti stress ball that he squeezes after everytime he gets killed.

It's a Saturday night, which means two things:

1. He should be hanging out with you, but you've ditched him to have a sleepover with your girlfriends. He would be lying if he said he wasn't disappointed. Why couldn't he drop by? Because he has a dick? Ridiculous. He's been learning all the dialogues to your favourite movies. He would understand all the references to whatever you're watching. He'd even let you do his make up and dress him up in a skirt and heels if you wanted to. But whatever. He's never been the clingy type whatsover. He can manage a few hours without you. Bet.

2. Namjoon waters his plants on Saturdays and that means he's also in control of the music that plays in the background.

When the first chords start playing, Jungkook is still too busy licking the salt off his fingers and thinking about a new strategy to end up once and for all with the living dead. He's not paying much attention until he hears the lyrics.

"What song is that?" he asks, eyes squinted at the screen. He doesn't see Namjoon turning towards him with a dumbfounded look on his face.

"Um...Just one of the most well known songs in music history?"

"Hm. When did he drop this? I totally missed it."

There's a beat of silence before Namjoon answers back. "In the 60's."

"Ohhhh."

For the following minute, Namjoon keeps spraying his plants with water, himself humming to the tune. Jungkook has given up on his game. It's not his fault he can't concentrate on two things at a time. Specially when your face appears unexpectedly out of nowhere in his head. So, he doesn't even think much of the fact that his character is getting eaten alive on the screen. He doesn't care that Yugyeom is cursing at him through his headphones for commiting harakiri. The song in the distance has hypnotized him for whatever reason.

"Who sings it?" he inquires further. He doesn't care that his computer's screen reads 'Game Over'.

"Frankie Valli."

"The guy who sings in The Joker?"

"No, that's Frank Sinatra."

"Frank Sinatra is Joaquin Phoenix's stage name?"

"What? No, that's- Your thought process never fails to amaze me." Namjoon sighs, fishing for his phone inside his jean's pocket. "I'll just send you the link."

Which he does. Namjoon shares the Spotify link on his phone. That same night, Jungkook makes a Spotify playist. With just that one song on repeat. He falls asleep with the same vintage track playing in the dark and your face playing in his mind.

Now, Jungkook has never known obsession. It's not in his DNA to think about something -or someone- over and over again. Sure, he probably knows too many facts about soccer that nobody cares about; sure, he has an entire collection of Yu-Gi-Oh cards that he's been saving since he was a kid; and sure, he adds parsley to every dish he makes regardless of the food needing it or not. But Jungkook is not obsessive. Not at all.

So why those lyrics and that melody plus the thought of you are on a loop burned in his brain is a mystery to him. And he would maybe try to find the answers to this mystery in internet forums like Quora if he was actually bothered by it.

But he's not.

He's happy listening to Frankie Valli as long as you keep appearing like a mirage everytime he closes his eyes. Jungkook thinks that's the reason why he doesnt get sick of listening to it is. Because your face is always in his mind whenever the chords start repeating themselves inside his head.

Have you ever heard that song before? Do you have any remotely idea how much it fits you? Are you even aware anybody could've written this song about you, for you? Do you know you're too good to be true? That Jungkook can't take his eyes off of you? That you're like heaven to touch, and Jungkook wants to hold you so much?

Sometimes he thinks he should apologize for the way that he stares, but when it comes to you, there's nothing else to compare. Because everytime he spots you in a room, or spends God knows how much time just looking at you as you type away in the library, the sight of you leaves him weak and he feels like there aren't any words left to speak.

It's been a couple months since he's known you, but all he knows is that he'd like to keep knowing for as long as he can. He can't remember the last time he's wanted to spend so much time with somebody. Can't remember the last time a girl had introduced herself in his thoughts until nothing else was important to him, not even scoring goal after goal on the field. Sometimes he tries to blame it on the fact that he likes women too much and you're one of them. He's a vulnerable individual when it comes to the opposite sex.

It had to be that blowjob, for sure. It's not often that getting some head leaves Jungkook shaking in his Air Forces 97, wanting to put a ring on it and thanking God he's alive.

So, if you feel like Jungkook feels, you should let him know that it's real.

"Man, my homie Frankie really was in his bag when he wrote this." he sighs dreamily one night.

Jungkook wishes he knew how to write lyrics this beautiful where he calls you his pretty baby, tells you he needs you to warm his lonely nights and pleads for you to stay now that he's found you. He wishes he could have such dominion and mastery of prose to explain how he feels whenever he's with you through rhymes. He's lowkey jealous of this Valli dude and his talent at putting into words what Jungkook can't.

It's only the 1:35 minute mark of the song that leaves a weird feeling in Jungkook's stomach. A little voice that's shouting at him the real reason why he likes this song so much. But Jungkook pushes it down every time. He's not in L with you. You're just a pretty girl Jungkook enjoys spending time with. A pretty girl, with a pretty voice who's also smart and nice to him after she's done rolling her eyes at him.

"I think you're really going to like this movie." you tell him the following Saturday night that he gets to hang out with you.

Another thing about Jungkook besides not being an obsessive individual is the fact that he's never given the universe and the way it works too much of a thought. He's always thought that things happen for no apparent reason, just funny coincidences that make the world a curious place. Nothing else.

But 10 Things I Hate About You has made him think about syncronicities in a whole different way. At first, all he was thinking was 'Okay, just another ealry 2000s teenage movie about love' and 'Man, Joseph Gordon-Levitt looks kinda the same as a teenager as he does now'.

Whatever, he enjoys spending time with you and watching whatever you like, because he's going to like it as well in the end. But then Heath Ledger's character grabs a mic and performs in front of Julia Stiles and the entire school a musical number with the one song Jungkook's been compulsively listening to for the past week.

So Jungkook watches in astonishment, with his mouth open wide and his soul ready to leave his body. His heartbeat speeds up dangerously and he finds himself holding on to one of the pillows on your bed way too tight. And you just sit there next to him, completely obvlivious to the fact that Jungkook is starting to experience the existential crisis of his life.

"It was cute, huh?" you tell him when it ends. And he just nods his head without being able to say a word because, literally, what the fuck.

"Um, yeah, why?"

"Huh?" Jungkook doesn't even remember what you've been talking about. He got distracted by the fact that you changed your perfume and your lips look a shade darker than usual.

"You just said: 'You know when a song gets stuck in your head?', and I said: 'Yeah, why?'" you look at him expectantly from under your glasses. Jungkook simply shuts down because your eyelashes are kinda overwhelming him. And he's not really ready to tell you how much of a dumb idiot he feels like for discovering a song that's been worlwide known sixty years after it was released. Oh, and he also feels like a creep for associating it with you and obsessively listening to it with you in mind. So he licks his lips, clears his throat and just settles on:

"Um, no reason."

[annoyed-galaxy]

Post-Destroy Ending

I bring from the grave of the beyond a fix-it fic serving up fresh angst and some fluff. Mass Effect destroyed my heart and with that major fucking cliffhanger, I just had to write something. But since there's a lot, I decided to break this up into chapters. Well, who knows how many chapters there will be, but just stick around I'm sure you'll have a great time. My writing is still rusty as hell, but I needed to get SOMETHING out. Anyways enjoy this! It's also on AO3 if you want that link.

Go!

It was the last thing she had ordered when she ran off into the jaws of death. He hated watching her go. Hated seeing her run back towards the beam with Harbinger raining down death. Tali had to tear him away from watching her run, dragging him back into the Normandy.

Garrus was on his fourth bottle of alcohol. The other three bottles were littered across Shepard’s nameplate. He ran his fingers across each letter of her name. It had been a couple weeks and Garrus still refused to put her name on the memorial wall. He couldn’t bring himself to do it. And he sure as hell wasn’t letting someone else do it.

They were still grounded on the uncharted world they had crashed into after the blast from the Citadel. While the Normandy was relatively fine, there were still some repairs that had to be made. There was also the issue with EDI. When the blast caused the Normandy to crash, EDI had suddenly collapsed, no longer functioning. Whatever the blast was, it didn’t kill just the Reapers.

The mass relays were destroyed, comm buoys were in pieces, so communication was very limited. Whatever happened back on Earth, whether people had recovered or not, was not making it to the Normandy anytime soon. The Reapers were defeated, but at what cost?

The door to the lounge opened and Liara sat next to Garrus. She grabbed a bottle of wine and began to pour herself a glass. “How are you feeling?” she asked, taking a sip.

Garrus grumbled to himself. He was drunk, his mind fuzzy and numb. “I’m fine,” he mumbled.

Liara nodded, not buying his story, but knew he hadn’t been okay in a while. “Tali has been working on EDI. She also brought Glyph back. In return, Glyph has been helping Tali with bringing EDI back,” Liara explained, hoping some good news would brighten his mood.

He looked at her, his face plates shifting. Part of him was annoyed that she would bring that up, knowing the possibility of Shepard truly being gone was most likely. But he was happy for Joker at the very least. “That’s good,” he mumbled, returning to his drink.

Liara frowned, worry crossing her face. “Garrus...I know you’re hurting, but...” Liara stopped herself. She didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry, Garrus. I know Joker has been talking about trying to make it back to Earth. But with the mass relays out, who knows how long it’ll be until we get there. Communications have been scrambled too.” Liara put a hand on his back. “It’s going to be okay Garrus. I promise.”

He stayed silent. He had nothing to say. He wanted to go back to Earth, back to the Citadel. He wouldn’t put Shepard’s name on the memorial wall until he had seen her cold corpse himself.

After a few minutes of silence, Liara finally decided it would be best to leave the turian to his sulking. She left with comforting parting words.

༻✧༺

“There’s a body over here!”

Her head was pounding. There were noises. Faint. Distant. Her body burned, stung, felt battered and bruised. She was breathing, but it stung. The voices came closer. She could no longer make out words, but she saw blinding lights come into view. She felt a weight lift from her, probably some rubble, and she couldn’t make out any faces. There were just blurred shapes and bright lights.

“Holy shit, it’s Commander Shepard!”

More shapes rushed over to her. Rubble was being dragged off of her. The light began to fade, her breathing slowing. She felt something cover her nose and mouth. Air filled her easily now. Her eyes fluttered shut and the noise faded away.

༻✧༺

“EDI!” Joker cried out as the robot sat up, blinking. He hugged her, tears forming in his eyes.

“Hello, Jeff,” EDI replied, slightly confused. She returned the hug, tentatively patting his back. He moved out of the way, allowing her to stand on her feet. “What happened?” she asked, looking around the room. She was in the AI core, Tali, Liara, and Glyph all stationed behind Joker, watching with held breaths as she was brought back to life.

“The blast from the Citadel took you out,” Joker explained, his arms on her shoulders. “But the Reapers were taken down too. Tali and Glyph have been working day in and day out to bring you back.”

EDI looked back at Tali and Glyph and smiled. “Thank you, you two. I did not realize I had...died.” EDI looked down at her hands, stretching her robotic fingers. “It felt like I had just stopped working. There was no afterlife.”

Joker put a finger under her chin, lifting her eyes to meet his. “It’s okay, you’re here now.” She smiled and took his hand.

“So what did I miss?” she asked, as they left the AI core. Awkward glances were shared between Tali and Liara.

Joker cleared his throat and took EDI to the bridge of the ship, letting her settle back into her usual co-pilot seat. The door to the cockpit closed as Tali and Liara stepped in. “Shepard activated the Crucible,” Joker began to explain. “Whatever it did, it destroyed the Reapers and other synthetic lives including you. But it also destroyed the mass relays and left comm buoys in scrambles. We’ve been stuck on an uncharted world for about a month now, trying to get you working again.”

“We didn’t feel safe, nor comfortable, taking off without you working again,” Liara added, offering a small smile to EDI. “That and the fact that the Normandy is currently offline.”

“You keep the Normandy in full function,” Tali tagged on.

Joker nodded. “Now that you’re back online, we’re hoping to make it back to Earth. The only issue with that is...”

“We don’t know how far away we are, nor how long would it take, or if we could even get there via FTL,” Liara explained, her voice low and sad.

“Is there a specific reason to going back to Earth?” EDI asked, pure innocence and naiveness in her robotic eyes.

Joker looked at Tali and Liara, asking for some backup with his eyes. Tali rubbed her hands together nervously. “We want to try and find Shepard.”

EDI tilted her head. “Is Shepard alive?”

The three of them exchanged looks once more. “We...we don’t know,” Liara sighed. “But Garrus seems determined to find out.”

EDI lowered her head. “Oh. Right. Garrus and Shepard were in a romantic relationship weren’t they?” Everyone nodded. “I will begin to run diagnostics on the ship then, to see what repairs will be required to get us off the ground once more,” EDI said, more optimistic and hopeful. It seemed to work as Joker, Tali, and Liara smiled a little more.

“I’ll let Garrus know,” Liara said before leaving the cockpit. She went to the crew deck, in the lounge looking for Garrus, but he wasn’t there. She went to the other side, the starboard observatory, but he wasn’t there either. She went to the main battery, wondering if he had gone back to calibrating to distract him, but he wasn’t there either. Liara could think of only one other place he would be grieving in.

As she suspected, the door to Shepard’s cabin was open, a somber tune of a piano playing through the speakers as she stepped out of the elevator. Laying on the bed was Garrus, a picture in his hand. Liara could tell it was the picture of the Normandy crew they had taken back on the Citadel. “Good news, Garrus,” Liara greeted, standing next to the fish tank. He looked up at her, his mandibles parting in curiosity. “EDI is back online. She is going to run a systems check and see what it will take to get us back to Earth.”

Garrus sat up, putting the picture on one of the bedside tables. “That’s what everyone wants to do?” he asked, not looking at her, still looking at the picture.

Liara moved closer, sitting on the end of the bed. “Garrus, you’re not the only one who wants to find Shepard. I, for one, do not want to see her name on that wall either. I want to at least see her body if she is...gone.”

Garrus snorted. “Weren’t you the one who recovered her body last time? After the Normandy’s first destruction?”

Liara nodded. “I was. Until I found her, I never lost hope. Even when I recovered her body, I still didn’t lose hope, especially since Cerberus planned to bring her back. I thought it was crazy, but they did it.” Liara smirked. “Death and Shepard are not good friends. She defies him at every turn.”

“I just...I don’t want to put her name on that damned wall. Because if I do, then it may be as well saying she’s gone. I...can’t accept that.” Garrus’s voice faltered, weak and strained. Liara couldn’t hear his sub-vocal very well, but she knew it was worse than his regular voice. She knew the pain of losing Shepard would be hard on him.

“Then let’s hope we can make it to Earth soon,” Liara comforted, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

He silently nodded as she left the cabin.

༻✧༺

Another month had passed by, the Normandy was still grounded, but basic functions were online. Power kept the basic necessities alive, powering Liara’s room where she spent most of her time, using her Shadow Broker resources trying to gauge the aftermath of the Reaper War. No matter how much she tried to get any information, with comm buoys out of commission and them being on an uncharted world, anything she received was scarce at best. She still had received no status about the Citadel, Earth, or what state the galactic civilization was in. The only information she could glean, was what everyone already knew; the Reapers were dead and the mass relays were broken.

Voices were raised in concern about food supplies. There was still plenty of food for everyone, including Tali and Garrus, but supplies would run out soon if they didn’t restock. James, Cortez, Tali, Garrus, and Javik all decided to explore the uncharted world in hopes to find some food. Tali had a scanner in her suit that could identify whether something was poisonous and dextro-friendly or not. The only thing they had managed to find was some berries for everyone except the quarian and turian.

“Great, we’re going to be living off berries,” James groaned, picking the bright red fruits from the bush Tali had just scanned.

“Be lucky we found anything at all,” Tali retorted. “Garrus and I still have to find food that we can eat.”

“To be fair, you guys are the only dextros on board so you’re not going through your supply as fast,” Cortez pointed out.

“Hopefully we won’t run out in general,” Garrus said, looking aimlessly at the horizon. The system’s sun was equal to the sun, Sol, providing the same warmth and light on this world’s surface.

“If we do run out of food, we can just eat one another,” Javik suggested. Everyone turned and looked at the Prothean.

“Of course the Prothean would say that,” James cackled. “Talking about salarian soup and shit.”

“Let’s try to avoid that outcome,” Cortez suggested.

The idle conversation continued as the group continued looking for more food.

“Liara.” EDI stepped into the Shadow Broker’s cabin, her arms behind her back as she waited patiently for the asari to notice her.

“What is it EDI?” Liara looked up from her computer screen, frustration painted on her face.

“I found something. Upon doing an internal scan of the Normandy, I discovered a signal that was sent about two months ago. A distress signal,” EDI explained.

Liara looked at EDI in curious surprise. “Oh?”

EDI motioned for Liara to follow back up to the bridge of the Normandy. Joker was sitting in his pilot’s seat, the seat turned to face the door of the cockpit. His hands were templed together and worry was bright across his face. “Jeff and I have already listened to the signal. I had to clear it up in order to understand it since the signal was so ruined.” EDI explained as she stood next to Joker.

“Keep in mind, it’s two months old,” Joker grumbled as EDI used her omni-tool to play the signal.

There was a lot of crackling in the beginning and then a cough. “Help...” Liara strained to listen to the static in the voice. “This is...Com...mander...Shep...ard. I’m...still alive...Please help...” The signal cut off then with one more cough from the sender.

Liara’s eyes widened as EDI and Joker looked up at her to gauge her reaction. “Don’t get your hopes up. The signal is two months old,” Joker repeated.

“Do you...do you know if this signal was received by anyone else?” Liara asked, her voice soft and quiet. It was hard to determine what her reaction was.

“No. As I said, I just received this signal when I was doing diagnostics on the Normandy,” EDI answered. “I cannot determine if the signal was sent to any available ships or if it was sent to the Normandy specifically.”

Liara crossed her arms, bringing a hand to her chin, stroking it thoughtfully. There was a reason Joker reiterated the fact that the signal was two months old. With no knowledge of whether or not the signal was received by anyone else, there was no guaranteeing Shepard was alive. Liara sighed. “There’s nothing we can do about it. But whatever you do, don’t show it to Garrus. Unless we can find out whether or not the signal was received by someone else, there is no reason to bank our hopes on this.”

Joker nodded. “I agree. And honestly, Liara? As much as I want to hope...I don’t think she made it.”

Liara smiled sadly. “We can only hope she did, Jeff.”

༻✧༺

Not sure if turian heaven is the same as yours, but if this thing goes sideways and we both end up there...meet me at the bar.

She was standing in the forest. There was no child there this time. No copy of herself. She was alone. There were voices surrounding her. She looked around. Her body didn’t hurt. She couldn’t feel anything. There was a bar on the opposite end of the forest. She could have sworn she saw a turian sitting on one of the stools, a bottle in its hand.

Her legs began moving, but like all the other dreams, she moved slowly, felt weighed down by a crushing force of gravity, moving impossibly slow.

Shepard.

She heard his voice again. All around the forest. She reached out towards the turian sitting at the bar. She wanted to call out for him, but her throat tightened and no sound escaped. Fire started to form around the turian and the bar.

Not again. Please. Not again.

Come back alive. It’d be an awfully empty galaxy without you.

The flames consumed the bar and the turian, just as his head turned to look at her; the blue eyes, the blue colony marking across his face, his visor, his mandibles parting at the sight of her.

We’re in this until the end.

She tried crying out, but the flames consumed him and the noise of the Reapers echoed all around her. A bright flash of red came into her view. She felt sluggish as she brought her arms up in a futile attempt to block the beam from disintegrating her. But the pain never hit.

༻✧༺

Six months had passed since the Reaper War ended. Food supplies had started to run short, even for the dextros on the Normandy. Despite all the exploring the adventuring party had done, they still found nothing more except for berries for everyone else. However, progress on getting the Normandy back online was going well. EDI had predicted that the Normandy would be airborne within the week.

The mood on the ship was tense. Everyone was excited to be airborne again. Garrus still kept Shepard’s nameplate close to him. People stopped talking about the possibilities of Shepard’s fate, not wanting to further upset the turian and the rest of her close friends. Games of poker were used to distract crew members from the low running food supplies and the restlessness of being grounded for so long on an uncharted world.

“Man I can’t wait to get the hell off this planet,” James chattered, fixing himself a plate of berry flavored scrap food. “We’re pretty much out of food and have been surviving off of berries and MREs for six goddamn months. We haven’t been getting nearly enough proteins we need in a daily meal.” He sat down at the lunch table where the other crew members sat. Tali and Garrus looked at him pointedly. He lifted his shoulders. “What? You guys still have food.”

Tali scoffed. “Barely. There wasn’t that much dextro-food compared to your guys’ food. So we started running out around the same time you guys did.”

Cortez smiled, offering some hope around the table. “It’s okay guys. EDI said we should be taking off here soon.”

“Yes, but how long until we get to a known system?” James countered. “The mass relays are still screwed and we haven’t even received communications in forever.”

“Not to worry,” piped the synthetic voice of EDI who had just rounded the corner of the mess room. Liara stood next to her, a small smile on her face. “Communications have been reestablished.”

Liara sighed softly. “The only problem is that the communications we do receive are delayed. Say, if something was sent four months ago, we would just be receiving it now, or later. So any news we do get is going to be late.”

“Fantastic,” Garrus mumbled, looking down at his plate. He had barely touched his food and Tali was half-tempted to snag what he didn’t eat.

“Getting communications up at all is a start,” EDI admitted. “As I said, it shouldn’t be long before I can get the Normandy back into full motion.”

“Please hurry,” James begged, leaning back in his chair. “I’m sick and tired of this planet. If we had more resources, I wouldn’t mind living here. But I’m gonna lose it if I managed to survive the Reapers just to die to starvation six months later.”

Cortez raised a glass towards James. “Cheers to that.”

Liara rolled her eyes just as Specialist Traynor rushed around the corner. “Everyone! Come quick! I just received a message from Admiral Hackett!”

Everyone perked up a bit at that statement. Most of the communications they received were garbage or were so insignificant that Liara had immediately deleted them. But a message from Admiral Hackett? This had to be good.

Everyone rushed to the elevator, cramming inside of it before stepping out into the CIC. Traynor rushed over to her computer and pulled up the message. “I haven’t listened to it yet, I just saw who it was from and decided to call everyone up.” Joker was leaning on the opposite side of Traynor, by Shepard’s personal computer. There was a glint of hope in his eyes at the news of the message from Hackett.

Admiral Hackett played a huge part in the Reaper War, commanding the forces that brought the Crucible to the Citadel. If he was sending a message directly to the Normandy, then hopefully it was good news. Or news in general.

The message came up, but the frequency was all scrambled, too much static to even hear words. A few tweaks later and the old man’s voice finally came through.

“Normandy. This is Admiral Hackett. With the comm buoys in disarray and mass relays destroyed, I don’t know if and when this message will reach you, but you need to come back to Earth as soon as possible. Do whatever the hell you have to to make it back.” There was a pause in the message as everyone looked at each other. Then the voice spoke again and the words that came out struck everyone.

“We found Commander Shepard. She’s alive.”

[kgraces]

Atlas

@badthingshappenbingo​

Bad Things Happen Bingo Prompt: Buried in Rubble

For @ithilgalad75​

Read it on Ao3 here! 

Jason is practically a deadweight against Dick’s side, arm slung around his shoulder. Of course things had gone sideways during a routine case. Of course Joker had decided to show up. Dick had gotten caught up in fighting off the hordes of arms dealers while Jason took on his worst nightmare by himself. Jason is more than capable of keeping himself safe, but the Joker is his greatest weakness, and the worst part is that Joker knows it. 

It hadn’t been a problem until the monster brought out the crowbar.

Jason had clung to his fury, beating past the panic underneath his skin to shoot Joker's kneecaps out and get the hell out of there with Dick in tow, but he hadn't gotten away unscathed. He's definitely got a few cracked ribs, and one shoulder took a heavy hit with the crowbar. His left ankle got completely shattered, too. Dick helps his brother limp along, cursing the damned clown under his breath as they go. 

They're making their way to one of the lesser used entrances to the Cave, but even though it's narrow, which won't do Jason's claustrophobia any favors, it's the closest way home. Dick just needs to get them somewhere safe.

The tunnel’s ceiling is low—walls cramped and dark. Dick isn’t sure this passage has ever been used before now. Jason slumps a little more against him, and Dick casts an uneasy glance at his little brother, taking a moment to stop and run his fingers through the messy curls. Jason leans into the touch, but he doesn’t speak. 

“C’mon Little Wing,” Dick murmurs. “Almost home.”

They manage to walk a few more feet before the ground starts to rumble beneath their feet. Dick’s hold on his brother tightens for a moment before he tumbles over, losing his balance as the earth underneath roils dizzyingly. Earthquakes aren’t uncommon in Gotham, but this one is stronger than the last few minor ones they’ve had. Both boys tumble to the ground, and for a long moment the only sound is the rumbling all around them. 

Then, a loud crack slices through the air, and the ceiling crumples on top of them. The only reaction Dick has time for is a wordless shout before the rubble falls, a cloud of debris obscuring his vision for several painstaking moments. Dick coughs, trying to breathe around the pulverized rock as the cloud of dust begins to dissipate. Somehow, he’s escaped without injury, lying a few feet away from the pile of stones blocking the tunnel. 

“Jay?” He croaks, voice tightly controlled to conceal his worry. He hears a pained sound and levers himself up onto his elbows, scanning the ground for any sign of his brother. 

There.

A tuft of black hair—white streak grey with dust—is barely visible underneath the rubble. Dick’s heart leaps to his throat. His little brother is stuck. Buried under rubble after facing a beatdown from the Joker. His next breath shudders on the exhale.

“Jay, I’m right here,” Dick calls softly. “I’m here, and we’re going to get you out of there, alright?” 

A sniffle, a sob, and Dick feels like his chest is being torn open. He wants to scream, to cry with Jason, but he can’t. He has to be the calm one, here, because if he lets himself get swept up in the fear and worry, he won’t be of any use to his brother. Jason is more important right now. 

He shuffles closer, studying the stone crushing his brother’s prone form. He reaches out and combs a hand through Jason’s hair, waiting patiently until green eyes meet blue. Dick offers him a small smile, relieved to see him at least semi-coherent.

“Dick?” Jason murmurs, voice rough from smoking and the poor air quality. “This...this isn’t real. I’m dreaming you came to save me.”

“You’re going to be okay,” Dick says tremulously. He smoothes the hair back from Jason’s face, smile turning sad. “I wasn’t there the first time, but I’m here for you now.” He starts to prod carefully at the rubble trapping his brother’s torso and legs. “We might need to call B over.” He says with a hum. “I’m going to start to dig you out while he’s on his way, alright?” He activates his emergency beacon, and at Jason’s nod, he starts to move some of the rock as delicately as he can.

Jason’s still crying, tears dripping from his face onto the cave floor beneath him, and Dick starts to hum an old Romani lullaby he remembers his mother singing to him, hoping to calm him down. He’s always found noise more comforting than silence, and he knows Jason can’t begin to believe he’s alone right now. Eventually, Jason speaks up.

“I never wanted to go through this again,” he croaks. “The warehouse explosion hurt, Dick. Everything was hurting, and it burned. There was all this rubble, and warped, super-heated metal landed on me. I felt it before I finally died, and it was awful. Waking up in my coffin and digging my way out was worse.” He takes in a shaky breath. “God, I hate small spaces.” Dick hums again, passing a hand through his little brother’s hair again. Smiling sadly as Jason leans into the touch, almost desperately seeking out the comfort.

“It happened to me once, too,” Dick says. “Getting buried alive, I mean.” Jason makes a soft, inquisitive noise, and Dick lets out a mirthless chuckle. “Yeah, it wasn’t fun for me, either.” He shifts another rock, eyeing the largest piece of rubble pinning Jason to the ground. “But guess what, Little Wing? I got out, and you did too. This time won’t be any different.” 

His words and tone are soothing, but Dick’s heart is racing with the fluttery energy of panic. He hates reminding himself of that time, when he’d been attacked, knocked unconscious, and placed in a coffin—left to die. He pushes those memories aside. Jason needs him, and he can’t break down yet. Later, maybe, when they’re both safe, and Dick is alone in his room. He falls back into his usual role—big brother, caretaker, protector. 

“You’re okay, Jay. We’re going to get you out of here as soon as B gets here, and then maybe we can get Alf to make you some hot chocolate. How does that sound?” He keeps working to distract his brother until he hears footsteps running toward them, echoing across the cave walls. “Hear that, Little Wing? The cavalry's here. You’ll be free in no time, alright?” 

He’s freed one of Jason’s hands now, and he reaches out to give it a gentle squeeze. Jason’s fingers twitch and curl around his, and Dick’s strained smile grows a little more genuine. He’ll be okay. Bruce kneels at Dick’s side, clapping a hand to his shoulder in a brief display of support before he moves to examine the rock keeping Jason in place. 

“Keep him calm,” Bruce murmurs, and Dick nods. He’s the eldest, the emotional support for his brothers. It’s a role he’s taken up many times, no matter the toll on his own heart. 

“Jay, can you look at me please?” Dick asks, smiling when they make eye contact. “Hi there, Little Wing. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“Ethiopia,” is the choked reply. Dick sighs and runs a thumb under Jason’s eye, wiping away a few stray tears. 

“You’re not there, Jay. You’re in the Cave with me and B. You’re safe, and you won’t be stuck for much longer, okay?” He talks in low, hushed tones, doing his best to soothe the sharp edges of his little brother’s worry. His own chest feels tight, like he’s the one being crushed, but he ignores it in favor of taking care of Jason.

Finally, finally, Bruce manages to get Jason free. He and Dick carry him over to the medbay, where Alfred is already waiting for them. Bruce and Dick get shooed away, and once he’s showered and changed into civvies, Dick can safely sequester himself in his room and let himself break down. He’s held it off for long enough. He makes it to his bedroom without incident, a small mercy.

The door shuts behind him, and Dick slides to the floor, resting his head against his knees. He’s exhausted—emotionally drained from staying strong for his brother. The panic he’s been keeping at bay surges forward, clutching at his lungs until he can’t breathe around it. 

Jason is safe. He’s alive, and he’s going to be okay. The nightmare is over, and Dick can just ride out the adrenaline crash by himself. He’s going to be okay, too. Eventually. 

It could be minutes or hours later when someone knocks on his door. Dick mumbles out his permission to come in, shuffling to the side so he isn’t blocking the entrance. To his surprise, Jason hobbles into the room. There’s a cast on one arm, and he’s moving stiffly, but he’s in one piece, and that’s enough to send relief flooding through Dick’s veins. Logically, he’d known his brother was okay, but seeing it with his own eyes makes it feel far more real.

“Hey Big Wing,” Jason says softly. The room is dark, shadows broken up by the thin moonlight filtering in through the curtains. Jason slumps onto the floor next to him. “You okay?”

“Am I okay?” Dick asks, chuckling a little. “I should be asking you that.” He smiles at his little brother and tries to put some cheer into his words. “I’m fine, Jay.”

“You’re full of shit, but that’s okay,” Jason replies. Dick lets himself rest his head against Jason’s shoulder. “Thanks for being there,” he says. 

“I didn’t want you to be alone,” Dick admits. “I know how it feels to be trapped like that, and I know I don’t have the same traumas you do, but it sucks going through that kind of thing alone—reliving it and all.” 

“You’re too selfless for your own good sometimes,” Jason says. “It’s okay to not always be okay. You know that, right?” 

Dick sighs, sniffling a little. Jason wraps his uninjured arm around Dick’s shoulders, and Dick leans against him, mindful of his injuries.  

“I’ve always had to be the strong one,” he says, choking on the words. “It’s my job to be there for my little siblings.”

“Not if it hurts you in the process,” Jason says evenly. He mirrors Dick’s prior actions and runs his fingers through Dick’s hair. It’s soothing, a balm to his frayed nerves. “We care about you as much as you care about us, Dickie. You don’t have to carry that burden all alone.”

“I don’t want you to worry about me,” Dick insists.

“Tough shit,” Jason retorts. His tone is sharp, but the hand in his hair is unfailingly gentle. “It’s okay, Dick. You don’t have to be perfect all the time.” 

Dick sighs again, tears sliding down the planes of his cheeks. The day’s events and their consequential emotions weigh heavily on his shoulders, as they often do when his family is hurt or in danger. But for right now, everyone is safe. Jason is here, by his side, and his brother isn’t going to let him collapse under the weight of his own heart. 

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Dick says, after a long moment of quiet. 

“I’m glad I had you there to make sure I was okay,” Jason replies. 

“Always, Little Wing. I promise. I’m not going to fail you again.” 

It’s a heavy burden to bear, but it’s worth it, Dick thinks, if it leaves him with his little brother at his side, safe and steadfast. And really, that’s all he wants: his family safe and happy. Contentment curls in his chest, a warmth to chase away the cold fear he’d been feeling since the tunnel collapsed. He’s safe, and he’s happy, and that’s more than enough for him.

[wannabeauthorclive]

Word Find I

Thank you @talesofsorrowandofruin, @zmlorenz, @vellichor-virgo, @fayoftheforest and @nikkywrites all the tags!! I think that each of you have tagged me in two tag games each, so this is gonna have a lot of words. 

@talesofsorrowandofruin words: asleep, misplace, bake, invisible, orchestra, introduce, disagree and sea

Asleep

“What is this?” Silver asks, waving a hand at the candles.

“You were half asleep when I came in here, I thought that the main light would be too harsh when you got out.” Ira answers with a small smile.

Disagree

Ira places a light kiss on Silver’s lips, “To dance, we must have music.”

Laughing, Silver says, “I disagree with you,” She spins and dips Ira, “You don’t need music to dance. You just need the right partner.”

“We may not need music, Love, but I would certainly like it.” Ira laughs as she’s lifted up again.

Sea

She heads to the stern and crosses the main deck to find Tonya. On her way, she passes Braveheart where — she checks their wrist, no bracelet — he is keeping all the ropes in place. “Aye, Captain! Where you off to? Forester is manning ship.” He calls, pulling another rope and opening the sail so they can gain more speed from the light wind. Black doesn’t worry that Forester is at the wheel, just as long someone is, all is well.

“I’m looking for Tonya!” Everyone on the ship talks loud, there’s a lot of noise on sea, with lots of enthusiasm. “You know where I can find her?” Braveheart just smiles, points up, and continues working. Black looks to where he pointed, and sure enough, Tonya is up on the spar doing a handstand.

@zmlorenz words: master, cute, foreign, leak, bite, music, frown, and fresh

Master

“Not at all, gunner!” Soberski is the Master Gunner, he runs the canons and guns, making sure they’re always prepared for a fight. But he also is the resident joker, Black hardly knows if what comes out of him mouth is a joke or not.

“Aren’t you supposed to be working, Soberski?” Canta asks.

Soberski turns to her, “Aren’t you? I got some mental problems that could use some healing.”

“We all have mental problems, Soberski.” Canta is the Surgeon and healer, always there to fix up injuries. She’s also the most soft-spoken, her little contributions mean everything to Black.

Music - TW: implied nudity

She turns on the water on, filling the big ivory tub with warm water and goes to look for the scented soap. She turns on classical music to play in the backroom and she pours the soap in the tub. She sheds her clothes and steps into the tub of bubbles and water. She sighs, letting the warm water seep into her bones. With the low music playing and the scent of jasmine filling the room, she could stay there forever and never leave. She closes her eyes and tries to forget about everything, just for a bit.

Frown

Frowning, Ironside whispers, “Why must we take the job if the last time you lost everyone?”

The darkness on Black’s face turns to fire. “Because I can’t not go!” She snaps. “I don’t want to live in fear anymore! I can’t! Every job we take I am terrified. I can’t be terrified anymore, Sal. Because someone who is afraid isn’t someone you want guarding your back. Someone who is afraid shouldn’t be there at all because…” Struggling to find the words, Black snarls at herself and stomps away, yelling. “Take the damn wheel, Ironside, I can’t fuckin’ do this anymore!”

@vellichor-virgo words: air, safe, water, ache, ink, snap, drift, and braid

Air

“Unless… we…” Another idea starts forming in Black’s mind. “Unless… Unless we were already in the building!” She says excitedly, throwing her arms in the air. “We would have to be in the building. What did Ironside say? About disguises?” Her eyes go wide as realization hits her like a truck and she loses her breath for a moment.

Water

Black tilts her head up to stare at the great expanse of the sky. Mid day and the sun is the normal too harsh blue that never seems to end. Black much prefers the dark blue expanse of the water, constantly changing yet always the same. She sucks in a harsh breath and closes her eyes, trying to forget the sky, the sea, and her past. Just for a moment. A moment to collect her mind and then to stand behind the wheel as the Captain always should. It’s where she belongs.

Ache

She sighs, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the wheel. She loves what she does, she loves her crew and each adventure they go on, she loves days like these as well, where there’s not much to do and everyone is enjoying the sun. But sometimes, her heart aches. As soon as she isn’t bustling about, her heart aches. A sad smile stretches across her face, sometimes she feels that for all that is perfect in her life, somethings missing. She shakes her head, deciding not to question what could possibly be missing. 

Ink

Silver doesn’t respond. She uncaps the ink, unrolls the letter paper, dips her feather pen into the dark ink. She twirls the feather pen across the paper, her handwriting neat and proper as it dances across the paper. Something about the cursive calms her, possibly the way that it’s all connected with no room for errors. And Silver’s print has no errors. She’s done it too long for errors to even have a slim possibility of appearing. She pauses only to dip the feather in ink and to tinkle her chin with the feather in thought.

Snap

“Of course, what must I do?” Ira hands him a glass of wine and he takes with his left hand. His posture doesn’t relax and neither does Silver’s.

“I need you to go to Viras Treasury and steal—,” She holds up the faded paper with the drawing of the artifact and a little note in the corner. She found the paper in a metal box under her parents’ bed. Her eyes snap from the paper back to Desmond when he takes a sharp breath. “Do you know what this is?” She asks, a sharpness in her tone that — with normal people — would make them do her bidding at moments notice, whatever that bidding may be.

Shaking his head furiously, he says in a rush, “No, no,” He seems to regain his composure while Silver narrows her eyes at him. “I do not know what that is. Inform me?”

Drift

“Darling, if you stay in the tub any longer you’ll become a prune.” Ira teases after much time of quiet.

Silver opens her eyes — When did they drift closed? — and looks around the room, hating the thought of even leaving the still warm water. An aggravated sigh slips out her mouth as her pulls her self out of the tub. Ira is there the moment her feet hit the tile with a towel. She looks around as she drys off, just now noticing all the candles Ira lit when she was in the tub.

@fayoftheforest words: edge, cut, knife, point and trace

Edge

After hours of dancing but only felt like minutes to the two of them, Silver whispers, pressing her forehead to Ira’s, “Do you think we’re doing the right thing? Is Desmond our best choice?”

“Darling, Desmond is our only choice. And we’re doing what we must.” Ira reassures.

“What we must.” Silver repeats, “And what is that?”

“Finding closure, love. We are finding your closure. After this, after we get the artifact, you’ll look forward and not back.” Ira assures.

“I don’t want to forget her, Ira, she was the one the saved me.” Tears glisten at the edges of Silver’s eyes.

Cut

Virow is a big city, getting to the mail post may be harder than Black thought. The further she walks from the docks and into the market, the more women and people dressed in fancy dresses and suits. Virow is the second richest place in Viras, right behind their capital, Strexmont. Captain Black stands out like a sore thumb in the sea of the rich dressed Virans bustling about their city. Their white skin and short cut dirty blond hair are their defining Viran features. Captain Black knows she stands out with her long dark blue hair, dark skin, and darker eyes. Her outfit — black trousers, grey loose tunic, long red overcoat, knee high black boots, long black leather gloves and two pistols tucked in the waistband of her pants — is also a far cry from the tight, form-fitting dresses of purples and light blue that most Viran women wear.

Point

They all get stuck in their heads, more often than is good, but Black likes to think that sometimes you need to get stuck in your head to clear it. But for many, their head is a dangerous place to be for more than a few minutes, maybe seconds.

Black stands and walks up to Ironside and gently shakes her shoulders. “Sal, Sal, it’s gonna be ok.” Ironside’s gaze is still set on a nonexistent point far away. Black steps back a few feet and snaps her fingers, not close to Ironside’s face, just close enough to startle. Ironside jumps slightly and shakes her head. “Ironside, Sal, head onto bed. It’s almost ten. You’ve been working all day, you need to be well rested for tomorrow.”

@nikkywrites words: knowledge, beautiful, wood, agree and lose.

Beautiful Beauty

The whole crew looks away from Black and shakes their heads. Black understands why they don’t want to stay on deck, they’ve been aboard for so long and they all have a little pocket coin that she is sure they want to spend. “No volunteers?” No response. Throwing her hands in the air, she says, “Golly, crew! Y’all gonna make your Captain stay aboard to make our beauty don’t get stolen?”

There was a long pause before, Lakoma raises their hand and says, “I’ll stay behind.”

Black shakes her head at Lakoma and the crew, “No, Oma, you will not stay aboard. You need,” She passes a full coin pouch into Lakoma’s hands. “You need to get us food. I’ll stay aboard, no trouble. Just be sure to stay on the look out for anything odd.”

Wood

“This is delicious Lakoma!” Black compliments. And it is, all of their food is. They’re a wonderful cook. To get them to relax a bit more, Black asks, “So what happened while we were caged up in here all day?”

The question works like a charm and the flood gates open. Lakoma is a story teller. Their passion is cooking but they are constantly telling stories without thinking about it. They start waving their hands, excitedly talking about everything that happened earlier that day. From what they cooked for breakfast to the jokes that Soberski told them. They talk about the herbs and medicines that Canta is mixing, the new wood sculpture Forester is carving, the punch that Braveheart was practicing, the tricks they saw Tonya doing on the masts, they talk about how everyone except them slept in. They mention watching people wander about the docks fishing and selling while their newest bread was cooking. Lakoma talks about anything and everything.

Agree

As soon as they leave the room, Black asks. “What do you think the person was looking for?”

“I don’t know, but it’s nothing good.” Ironside responds, her tone somber. They both know that whoever the person may be, he knows who they are and he might just try to ruin their heist.

“I agree.”

“This isn’t good, Black.” The tone of the room changes drastically. It is now rushed and worried when it was slow and nervous a minute ago. Ironside’s voices raises as she keeps talking. “What are we going to do? We can’t send y’all in there when we know someone could be waiting to ambush you! It would be a death wish!”

Lose

Ira stands a bit away, being sure to give Silver her space. While Ira can be close at all other times, when Silver is writing, she cannot. Silver has said that she can’t think when someone watches over her shoulder. Ira respects her wishes and stands far enough away that Silver can think. And only when Silver leans back in her chair and sets the feather down, does Ira go closer.

“May I?” Ira asks, waving a hand at the letter.

Whew! That was a lot of words to find! But I’m glad I caught up on all of them! I love these tags now that I have some writing that I can actually search through!

Tagging (with no pressure): @a-completely-normal-girl @fayoftheforest @mel-writes-with-her-dragons @tiredlittleoldme @teasenpaiwrites @baguettethebooklover @aligned-stars-writing @47crayons @alicewestwater and anyone else wants to!!

Your words are health, cancel, red, error and dear 

[actualbird]

nobody asked but pat gill is so fucking hot to me and im going to tell you why im attracted to him | a 2.3k word long post where i hold you, dear reader, hostage

[SCENE: You, the reader, are tied to a wooden chair in an empty room with nothing but a small table and a projector. You pull at the ropes that tie your hands together behind your back, but then the door opens and I stroll in. I am dressed in a full black suit and am also wearing shutter shades. I am also holding a powerpoint clicker. The fancy ones with a laser pointer in them. You shudder in contempt for you know that you are about to witness a horrible lecture.]

Hello, reader. I know you know why I’ve brought you here. I’m here to discuss something very important to you. Don’t look at me like that, it is important, I swear. I am here to tell you why I find Pat Gill hot.

[I switch on the projector. My presentation slides flash to life on the wall. Behind your back, you locate the feel around the knots tying your hands.]

This is not a presentation where I will convince you that Pat Gill is hot. No, I wouldn’t prescribe my tastes onto anybody, that’s not nice. What I will do is explain in horrid, vivid detail why I myself find Pat Gill hot. 

Like everything I do, I cannot dive in without first setting up some kind of framework or system of analysis. What I am trying to explain is how I find another person attractive, and that has thus pushed me to make the AHG Criteria, a criteria made up of the three principal characteristics of a human which makes me attracted to them and is also, coincidentally, the sound I make when I see images of Pat Gill. 

The AHG Criteria refers to the following:

Appearance: the most shallow but noticeable of characteristics. Here, I will explain just what it is about Pat Gill’s perceivable flesh prison that gets me so upset in an attracted manner.

Humor: I love a funny human and humor theory is one of my side interests. Here, I will dissect two specific instances of Pat Gill’s humor, bringing in references and related literature, in an effort to explain why his sense of humor is stellar.

Good at presenting things: I am very attracted to competence, but one skill I hold in very high regard is the skill of explaining and conveying information. Here, I will analyse Pat Gill as a communicator.

So let’s jump right into it. 

Pat Gill’s Appearance is, frankly, an anomaly to me. This is not to say that anything about his appearance is strange, but that, quite honestly, as handsome as he is, he’s basic. He is white, he is tall, he is thin, he has black hair and a slight beard (though currently he is sporting more of a moustache, which I’m still into). At first glance, one wouldn’t pay him much attention. I sure didn’t, until I watched more and more videos of him. I sure didn’t, until I realized.

His Appearance is basic, but his vibes, which I am including in the criteria of Appearance, bring his Appearance to life. Pat Gill looks a little unapproachable, with his resting sad face; but, when he smiles, he is so shameless and happy. Pat Gill looks like somebody you’d see leaning on a wall outside a bar, looking up at the sky, and you wonder just what he’s thinking about---wonder if you could get lost in his thoughts. Pat Gill looks like somebody friendly--- once his resting sad face gives way---somebody who would help you pick up your stuff when you bump into him and the contents of your bag spill out. Pat Gill looks like somebody who would use his goddamn turn signal. Pat Gill looks like somebody who would pet many dogs, as many dogs as he physically could. Pat Gill looks---

[As I prattle on, your fingers explore the knots behind your back. In your mind, you are mapping out the knot’s shape and orientation, thinking about how to undo them. When you tune back into my voice, the slide on the projector has changed and I have shifted topics.]

Let’s move onto the next criteria. Humor.

Paul McGhee in his book Humor: Its Origins and Development brings up Göran Nerhardt to define humor as “[...] a consequence of the discrepancy between two mental representations, one of which is an expectation and the other is some idea or percept” (McGhee 14). Nerhardt’s definition of humor is one that relies on incongruity: wherein there is an element that is not in accordance with the other elements. An incongruous element is one that is not the expectation, and in this subversion of expectation, humor is achieved. What is funny in a humorous situation, is then, what is unexpected to a certain degree. Humor, and the reaction to it, is due to the recognition of the incongruous. 

Despite this incongruity, there is still an internal logic to anything humorous. This internal logic is different for each humorous situation, and consists of everything within the situation; the set-up, punchline, characters, etc. It is this internal logic that allows for jokes to “make sense.” It is that internal logic that helps us get from one element to the incongruous element, realize their relationship, and thus find the whole thing funny.

Incongruity and internal logic are one of the many characteristics of humor, and they are the ones I will be focusing on. With those definitions in place, let’s talk about what you’re here for: Pat Gill.

Pat Gill is a funny guy. If I tried to analyse every single instance he was funny, I would never shut up. You wouldn’t want that, would you?

[You shake your head no. God, no.]

Right, so I’ll just be focusing on two instances of his humor that stuck out to me (originally, I wanted to discuss three, but then I saw that the length of this post was getting kilometric, so I cut it down to the essentials), these of which I think is a good marker for the kind of sense of humor he has.

The first one is my absolute favorite tweet of his:

This tweet is, at first glance, a lot. Pat Gill doesn’t wait for the punchline to be incongruous, he throws incongruity straight at our faces with the opening line, and one may think that that’s a bad move. Not necessarily. It’s just a ballsy one. It’s a move that doesn’t spoonfeed the audience with the internal logic, you have to work for it. As you read through the tweet, the internal logic starts to come through the incongruity. The literal dramatic situation of the tweet is a persona talking about the good state their nemesis is in. The language of the tweet keys us in to the kind of Medieval vibe, like a scheming duke in the hallways of a castle. The punchline comes after the last comma. The monolog of the nemesis’ good fortune will be interrupted by the persona’s attack on their life.

This tweet is an example of the bedrock of many of his jokes. He doesn’t give a damn if he makes sense or not. He will throw you into the deep end of the joke and it is up to you to tread the water. However, if you do manage to keep afloat, his internal logic will bring you to the punchline and, thus, satisfaction.

[Your fingers have been working on the knots steadily as I speak. You try your best not to react as you start to feel something give way, and you keep working quietly.]

The second instance of humor I want to discuss is the Solid Snake Skincare Routine dialog he wrote and performed with Brian in episode 8 of Gill and Gilbert. The full transcript is as follows:

Pat (as Solid Snake from Metal Gear Solid): Colonel, how do I know which moisturizer to buy, and how do I know it’ll match my skin type?

Brian (as Colonel from Metal Gear Solid): Unfortunately Snake, there’s no way to tell for sure. Certain retailers will offer samples, but in most cases, it’s up to you to purchase a product and try it out.

Pat: Sounds expensive.

Brian: It is, Snake. And the cost disproportionately affects women.

Pat: Women?

Brian: Societal norms in the west dictate that a woman’s value is tied to their appearance, and the thing every woman has…

Pat: Skin!

Brian: Right.

Pat: So, we expect women to attain a higher---So, we expect women---women, to attain perfect skin, and we also expect them to pay for it?

Brian: All while paying them less for doing the same jobs as men.

Pat: So Colonel, that means…

Brian: Yes, Snake. It is imperative that you give your money to women.

Pat: Right.

Like the tweet discussed before, Pat Gill shoves incongruity in your face immediately. Solid Snake, super cool spy dude (?? I don’t fuckin know anything about video games) talking about skincare. He expects you to keep up, and if you do, you are rewarded by a surreal yet lovely conversation between Snake and Colonel talking about the intricacies of skincare, but then things get really interesting. The topic shifts to the societal expectations of beauty and how it ties into womens’ experiences. This isn’t a grand woke moment or anything, but it is a surprising shift in subject that is perfectly in tune with the internal logic of the conversation. The punchline is amazing, giving all your money to women, yet it is also written in a way that does not imply that women are the butt of the joke. The butt of the joke here is the surreal vibe of the conversation as a whole.

This dialog builds upon the bedrock of Pat Gill’s humor: he isn’t afraid to go places. This is something that is apparent in many of the Unraveleds that he writes (Dark Souls Bosses is a very good example), he brings in real issues, makes the jokes funny, but never treats the marginalized or the victims of these issues as the butt of the joke. In Susan Purdie’s book The Mastery of Discourse, she remarks that to joke about a certain topic, to make something the “butt of the joke” can degrade this topic and bring it down lower, in the process shifting the power to the joker instead (Purdie 59). Pat Gill is aware of that power dynamic and never jokes at the expense of those who are struggling. He instead makes us laugh at characters, at situations, at surreality.

[The knots tying your hands are almost undone. You just need to bide your time. You’re so close to escaping from this thirsty pseudo intellectual motherfucker]

The last criteria I need to discuss with you is GreatAtPresentingThings. 

Pat Gill has done a lot of presenting. For this, I will be analyzing just one of the many videos where Pat Presents Things, my favorite among his “X is Y because of Z” videos, “Why Bloodborne and Muppets are the exact same thing.”

I’ve talked about this video in a previous long post analysis about Pat Gill, but let me talk about it again. Pat Gill, on camera, brings up an absolutely bonkers fucking thesis: that the horrible monsters in Bloodborne are similar to the Muppets because of how they use character design. 

Pat Gill, as a presenter, is very lovely to listen to. The cadence of his voice is not only extremely relaxing and makes me feel like a tranquilized zoo animal that Pat is talking to very gently about video games, but his voice is also very easy to follow. There are many voices on the internet, and I have a bunch of sensory issues, so a lot of the time, even when I want to listen to somebody, I just can’t because of how their voice grates at my ears. Pat Gill’s voice is not that. It is of a good speed and good vibe that not only puts me at ease but makes me want to listen.

Pat Gill uses gestures. This is most apparent in this video, where he does that cute thing when he says Shape, Movement, and Texture. Here are screenshots of it because it’s so fucking cute, what the fuck.

I know, I know, what do gestures have to do with presenting things? Well, if you told me “shape, movement, texture”, six minutes later, I wouldn’t fucking remember any of those. But with these gestures, those words do stick. When words stick, the explanations behind those words stick as well. When words and explanations stick in your mind, congratulations dude, you just learned something! Pat Gill when talking, and whether it is scripted like this or unintentional like a random gesticulation, the movement catches my attention and I become a more rapt listener.

Honestly, I could go on and on about Pat as a communicator and---

[Before I can speak, you bolt upwards from your chair, finally having gotten the ropes loose. Quickly, powerfully, you grab the projector from the table and smash it over my head. I stumble and fall to the ground, and you look down at me as your chest heaves.

As I slowly lose consciousness, you hear me say, softly, but with so much fervor:

“Pat…..Gill…..hot.”]

Thanks for reading! 

(Read my other unhinged analysis essays at actualbird.tumblr.com/tagged/nobody-asked-but. If you have a suggestion for an unhinged analysis essay I can write, send me an ask!)

References:

McGhee, Paul E. Humor: Its Origin and Development, W.H. Freeman and Company, 1979, pp. 1-41.

Purdie, Susan. The Mastery of Discourse. Harvester Wheatsheaf. 1993.

[wr1ter-reader-dreamer]

The Worst Surprise (Pt. 4)

Joker x reader

Masterlist

Part 1  -  Part 2  -  Part 3

My green haired lover was lounging comfortably on my bed, the same look of pure rage that I had left him with still present on his face. I regarded him as if he were a wild animal as he slowly pushed himself up from my bed. 

“Oh baby,” he growled, “you have been a bad girl.” 

Never taking my eyes off of him, I cautiously lowered my gun and placed it on the dresser by the door. Pointing a gun at him when he was in such a bad mood would not do me any favors. Of course he noticed the movement, which triggered him to look me up and down. He apparently did not like what he saw, and let out another growl.

J eyed my bare legs as he took a step towards me, “I should kill that boy for having his hands all over what belongs to me.”

My eyes widened and my heart stopped. Shit. Shit. Shit. How long had he been following me? If J saw me dancing with James, then he probably saw me drinking too. Not to mention the fact that I went out in tiny shorts and a crop top.   

Noticing my panicked expression he grinned, “Oh you thought you would get away with it? No, no, pet, you will be punished.”

That got my blood boiling as I remembered Harley. Raising my eyes to meet his, I glared, “You can fuck other people, but I can’t?”

He growled again and stalked toward me. Gripping my face in his hands, he smashed his lips against mine. I fought against the kiss, pushing at his chest in an attempt to make him let me go. It obviously didn’t work very well since he was a lot stronger that me, but after a few seconds he let me escape. As I took a hard step back, my wig got stuck on one of J’s many rings. It slid off my head, releasing my natural blonde hair. J’s eyes seemed to be glued to it as it fell around my shoulders and down my back.

“No, J,” I shook my head,  my hair dancing around me, “You don’t get to touch me! You don’t get to touch me after touching her.”

My Clown Prince laughed shortly and raised a non existent eyebrow, “You’re mad at me?”

I nodded, an unimpressed look on my face.

“Baby girl, you shot at me and missed. You’re lucky to be alive; I’ve killed people for less,” he said through gritted metal teeth, “You have no place to be mad at me.”

Scoffing, I crossed my arms, “I didn’t shoot at you. I shot at the bitch you were cheating on me with, and I didn’t miss. She’d be dead right now if it wasn’t for that damn glass.”

Even though he looked perfectly calm, I knew that he was beyond enraged. In fact, his left eye, the one with a little J under it, was twitching. I had spent enough time studying him to know that a twitchy eye was a very bad sign. Normally when his eyes twitched, it meant that someone was about to die.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Azrael,” he ground out, his voice shaking slightly with the effort to restrain himself.

“Fuck that. In fact, fuck you. You’re an untrustworthy asshole, J, that deserves worse than just me running away.”

Having been pushed to his limit, J raised his hand as if to backhand me. My mind immediately went back to over a year ago, to our first fight. It was the only time he had ever hit me, the only time he had even raised his hand against me. The slap had knocked me to floor, causing me to hit my head on the side of his desk and loose consciousness. When I had woken up,  he wasn’t there. I found him in his office, sitting against his desk with a bottle of liquor in his hand and tear stains on his cheeks. He told me he couldn’t loose me, and promised that he would never hurt me again.

With fresh tears in my eyes, I met J’s angry glare and repeated the exact words I had said to him then, “Hit me and loose me forever. I will not be your new Harley, and I will not stand for an abusive relationship. Hit me, and even if you lock me away for the rest of my life, I will never love you again.”

J’s gaze immediately softened as he dropped his hand to his side. He knew that he had struck a nerve, and he quickly tried to fix his mistake before he pushed me too far.

“Baby,” he said in a soft voice that was quite uncommon for him, “you know I would never hurt you.”

Now that I was no longer in mortal danger, the events of the day caught up to me and I was suddenly extremely exhausted. Leaning against the doorframe beside me, I shrugged and gave him a tired smile, “J, you already did.” 

My clueless Mr. J seemed to finally realize the damage he had caused as a crestfallen look overtook his beautiful face. He didn’t know what to do, and he didn’t receive any clues from me. After a few moments of just staring at me with a sad expression, he finally decided to pull me into a hug. Too tired to fight it, I allowed him to embrace me, in turn wrapping my arms around his torso and burying my face in his chest. I inhaled his wonderful scent, and for the first time in two weeks, felt my whole body completely relax.

“Why did you do it, J?” I asked, my insecurities beginning to emerge in my tired state, “Am I not good enough for you anymore?”

J growled and pulled me tighter against his chest, “Don’t say that. You are perfect, I would never want anyone else.”

“If you really thought I was perfect, you wouldn’t have kissed her,” I grumbled quietly against his chest.

He shushed me softly, running his hand through my hair to calm me down. Unfortunately his comforting touch wouldn’t let me forget what he had done and why I had left. I may not be screaming at him, but I was angry, and I was hurt. He wasn’t going to get away with that lame answer, so I reluctantly pulled away.

J regarded me carefully as I stood up straight and crossed my arms over my chest. Fixing my eyes on his, I gave him a hard look, “I need an answer, J. Why did you kiss her?”

Gritting his teeth, J ran his hands through his bright green hair. He turned away and started to pace across my room. I just watched and waited as he seemed to be having a battle within himself. After a few moments of trying to wear a hole in my floor, J stopped suddenly and turned to face me. He had decided what his answer would be.

“You unnerve me Azrael, that’s why I let her kiss me,” he gritted out. Slightly offended, I raised an eyebrow. I opened my mouth to tell him that if anyone was unnerving it was him, when he shot me a scolding look,“You know better than to interrupt. Keep your mouth shut and listen.”

I rolled my eyes, but complied. Leaning my shoulder against the doorframe, I motioned for him to continue.

“You unnerve me because you get under my skin in a way that no one else ever has. Every little, annoying  feeling inside my body pushes me to protect you. The voices inside my head all call out for you, urging me to never leave your side. I would kill most anyone who dared to glare at me or run their mouth to me, but when you do it, I just want kiss you. When some idiot manages to piss me off or ruin a deal, you make it better. All I have to do is touch you, and all the demons go away. You tame me, Azrael,” he said, causing my heart to flutter, “that’s why I let Harley kiss me. I had hoped that it was just a stupid obsession, but when even she couldn’t pull me out of it, I knew I was screwed. I told her that I would kill her if she ever came back to Gotham as soon as you left.”

J paused to take a step toward me. My heart beat hard in my chest, trying to break through the cage of my ribs, when he grabbed my hips and pulled me towards him. There was a look in his clear blue eyes that I had never seen before as he ran his tongue over his silver teeth.

“You snuck your way into an organ I was beginning to believe I didn’t have, and now it belongs to you. I kissed Harley Quinn for the last time because I’m in love with you, and it is the only thing that has ever terrified me.”

My heart swelled and tears spilled onto my cheeks. Having never expected to hear those words from him, I was completely shocked. Six months after he had claimed me as his, J had found out that I loved him when I said it in my sleep. He had taken it better than I thought he would, but it still wasn’t the desired reaction. After we had recovered from that, I had realized that J would never be able to tell me he loved me. I had realized that J showed his feelings through his actions, and I eventually came to terms with that. Now here he was telling me he loved me, and I was absolutely elated.

I quickly wiped the tears away and closed the distance between us. Harley was completely forgotten as I pulled him into a passionate kiss. J immediately wrapped one arm around my waist and tangled the other into my hair. He crushed my body against his, his lips meeting mine in a hungry fervor. Grinning against him, I kissed him back with an equal amount of passion. 

Kissing him after so long felt like absolute heaven. J tugged at my hair, using it to tilt my head back so that he had easier access to my lips. I couldn’t help but moan as his silver teeth sunk into my lower lip. J purred, releasing my lip and pulling back to look at me.

“You’re mine, Azrael Lestat, and no one else is allowed to have you.”

I nodded, “And you, Mr. J, are mine. Don’t even think about letting another girl touch you ever again.”

He laughed and nodded. J gave me another kiss then started to walk backwards towards my bed. I smiled widely as I followed, my eyes never leaving his. When his knees hit the edge, he sat down, his hands finding my hips and pulling me between his legs. There was a mischievous look in his eyes as he gazed up at me.

I laughed, allowing the sound to fill the room. When I looked back down at J he was smiling a true, perfect smile.

“I love you Mr. J,” I whispered, running my fingers through his vibrant hair.

He allowed his eyes to slip closed and purred, “I love you too my perfect Azrael. Please don’t ever leave me again”

  “I promise J, I’ll never leave you again,” I said as he leaned his head against my stomach.  I was finally happy, and I knew that no matter what, I would always have my insane, over-protective Joker by my side.

[mini-fanfics]

Your Voice (Tim Drake x Reader)

Warning: mentions of rape, child abuse, bullying, depression, NSFW

Summary: you didn’t talk a lot but when joker did something terrible to Tim your voice may be the only thing that can save him

You came into the bat family after Tim when Bruce saw that your father was selling you on the streets for drug money at the age of 16. You had a black eye and a deep cut on your cheek. you were also very malnourished, everyone saw your cheek bones, and if they lift up your shirt your ribs were so visible.

Bruce called the police on your father and took you in, You were very quiet you didn’t talk to anyone. A year or two have passed and You knew Bruce was Batman but you didn’t like that violence so you didn’t really train to be a hero like your brothers did and Bruce respected that. you still bearly talked, you spoke when you needed to which wasn’t a lot and Bruce didn’t mind since he preferred it be be quiet. The person that probably trust the most in the house was Tim, he would ask you a lot of yes and no questions and you eventually bonded with him, you spoke to him sometimes only one or two words though nothing too big but he liked it and he eventually became your best friend.

one day you went to the same school as Tim and mean girls started to beat you up saying that no one will ever love you and that you didn’t have any real parents. You just took the beating staying quiet trying not to cry from the pain.

“Hey! Get away from her!” You hear a voice say as you looked up to see your older brother Tim standing taller than the girls and showing the surprising amount of muscles he had from some his age. The girls roll their eyes at Tim and left but not before they spat on you and giggled.

Tim walks up to you and kneels you your level, “are you ok y/n?” You nod and try to get up but those girls gave you a deep cut on your leg making you wobble a bit. Time holds you, “hey hey I’ll take you to the nurses office.” You shake your head and tried to steady yourself but your leg gave way again and you fell back into tims’s arms. Tim sighs, “I’m not taking no for an answer y/n” he puts his arm around your shoulder and walks you to the nurses office. He helps bandage your cuts , puts some healing cream on your bruises and clean the spit off you.

You were such a loser and Tim was so popular, doesn’t he care how people will think of him if he’s scene helping you? When he finished you got up and your leg felt a bit better after being bandaged up. Tim looks at you, “are you feeling better?” You nod and time caresses your cheek, “good now who were those girls bullying you? They need to be punished.” You shake your head, you didn’t want them to get in trouble because the bullying will only get worst. Tim sighs, “fine but call me when something happens ok?” You boded making him smile then left the nurses office and you head back to your class.

That night Tim had to do a night patrol with Batman which caused the house to be very quiet, which you didn’t mind of course. You did your homework and studied for a bit, after hours of studying you fall asleep at your desk waiting for your brother and Bruce to come back.

The next day you wake up and didn’t see Tim when you went for breakfast, he always eats breakfast. You look at Alfred and he knew your were looking for Tim, he sighs, “Miss y/n something happened to tim last night he was captured by joker, master Bruce told me to tell you not to worry because he’s going to get him back by tonight.” You gulp worried for Tim’s life, joker had a history of killing robins and you hoped he wasn’t next.

You waited for Bruce to come back with Tim, you couldn’t stay still which was like you. You kept pacing around your room trying not to think about Tim, you tired reading a book and watching tv but nothing worked, Tim was always clouding your thoughts. You buried your face in a pillow, maybe some fresh air would help you got out to the mall and shop around but even shopping would make you think of him, since he would always help you pick out outfits and hold your bags. You go to a store called Think Geek a store Tim loves to go to, he would buy cool shirts and action figures from there a lot. You looked through the cases of action figures and you saw a Batman and Robin action figure you quickly moved away from the case and went to the clothing section, of course there was a Robin shirt, you felt your chest in pain, you missed Tim so much everywhere you go you think of him. You left the mall completely and head back home.

A week has past and it was a pain without Tim, the girls at school kept bullying you and time wasn’t there to save you. You come home from school to see Bruce, you show hope in your eyes thinking that he might’ve found Tim. He sighs, “y/n we found him but....he’s not the same Tim you knew.” You look at Bruce confused, he holds your hand and takes you the bat cave, where there was a cry-laughing teenager win a purple joker suit crying in a glass dome. The dome had a bed and a private bathroom in it, Bruce spoke, “joker made Tim into a minion, he tired to kill me and batgirl but we were able to get him back to the bat cave, he’s still not stable though so we need to keep him here until he is.” You start to tear up at the scene of your suffering brother, you walk up to the dome for a better look but that made Tim slam himself against the glass, he has the joker smile and dark eyeline around his eyes, when he saw you he started laughing hysterically. You were scared but you knew with time he’ll get better. Bruce comes up behind you and touches your shoulder, “you can come down her whenever you want maybe a familiar face will help him, just don’t let him out without asking me first.” You nod as you kept looking at the laughing tim, you cried you couldn’t help but cry, your best friend was suffering and you couldn’t do anything about it.

Everyday you went down to the bat cave to see Tim, in the morning for breakfast you would always bring a plate of food him and you, but half the time he would throw it against the glass laughing. You didn’t care you just sat on the floor next to the dome and eat your food. You would get ready for school but you didn’t leave without seeing Tim and showing him you were going to school. When you come back home you would go to Tim and start your homework and study next to the glass dome, Tim would try and distract you but you just smiled at him showing that you didn’t mind his noises. Some nights you would even fall asleep leaning against the dome to keep Tim company on these cold nights. Some days he would try and speak to you saying things like, “you’re so quiet laugh a bit!” Or “well well well it’s the quiet one! What game are we gonna play today!?”

It’s been two weeks and it seems like Tim isn’t getting any better. Bruce’s experiments didn’t seem to be working at all. You sat next to the dome and thought that maybe Tim won’t turn back to normal maybe you’ll never see your brother again. He won’t be able to hug you anymore, or protect you from bullies or be there for you when you’re depressed. You started to cry at the thought your tears dripped onto the floor causing Tim to notice that you were crying. He care close to you, “what are you crying about you big baby? Did someone die?” He laughed, “that’s so funny!” You look up at him, this was the first time he saw true sadness in your eyes in his joker form. He looked at you and frowned, “y-you should s-smile more.” You shake your head at him telling that you didn’t want to smile. He gulps, “w-well y-you don’t look good like t-that.” You pressed your hand on the glass, as more tears fell down your face, you were surprised when Tim’s hands were trembling and how he slowly but shakily presses his hand against the glass mirroring your hand. After a minute of standing like this he quickly moved away and started to hold his head in pain, “d-damn it get out of my headdddd” you were scared and concerned for Tim, you signal Bruce to the bat cave so he can see this. You kept your hand on the glass of the dome, Tim was now on the floor curled up in a ball hold his head in pain. You start crying again, and through your tears you didn’t know why but your small soft voice spoke, “Tim....” that’s when he looked at you from the floor, “w-what did you say?” You gulp again and opened your mouth again, “t-Tim, d-don’t go tim......don’t leave me.” Bruce comes to the bat cave but you didn’t hear him come in, you continued speaking to your brother as tears continued to fall, “Tim....please don’t leave me.” Tim gets up and rest his forehead on the glass, you saw the color in his eyes change, “y-y/n....I’m here y/n” you start crying again, was that your Tim? What’s he finally back. Bruce chocked his vitals and ran some test and he confirmed that Tim was back to normal but he still wants to keep on eye on him.

Bruce let’s Tim out of the dome, and you ran to him and hugged him tight crying into the crotch of his neck. Tim smiles and hugs you back, “thank you y/n. If it wasn’t for your voice I wouldn’t been stuck like that forever.”he pulls away from you and caresses your cheek, “let me shower a bit and then we can talk.”

You nod and follow him to his room and waited for him on his bed to finish showering. After a bit he comes out hair wet, a white tshirt and sweat pant with a white towel around his neck, he looks at you and smiles, “did you miss me?” You nod as an answer, he chuckled and sat next to you, “I missed you too.....I saw that you came everyday to see me in there.” You nodded and listened to his story, “you didn’t have to do that but I’m happy you did” he caresses your cheek, “and I’m sorry for scaring you, I wanna make it up to you but you need to do a small something for me too” you nodded and looked at him listening to his request. He spoke, “I want you to talk to me more.” You looks at him and gulps a bit, he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, “please you can only talk to me if you want but I just want to hear your voice again.” You sigh a bit, “o-ok.” He smiles, “now for my end of it” he slide you onto his lap making you blush, “t-Tim what are you?” He hushes you, “if you don’t like this then tell me I’ll stop.” He leans closer to you making you blush, and he kisses you softly on the lips, you were kind of scared and confused, Tim was your brother why was he doing this to you? It feels amazing yes but isn’t this wrong. He pulls away and looks at you, “did you like that?” You blush and nod, “b-but it’s wrong isn’t it?” Tim chuckles and shake his head a little, “it’s not like we’re blood related y/n, plus I can tell you enjoyed it and why would you stop if you enjoyed it?” He had a point you did like it and it’s legal so this should be fine. You lean into him, “o-ok Tim just be gentle I don’t really k-know what I’m d-doing.” Tim smiles and kisses your forehead, “of course my angel.” He slowly kisses you again this time he wrapped his arm around your waist and he caresses your cheek with the other one, after a bit he pulls away leaving a string of saliva between you two.

You felt a heat between your legs a heat you never really felt before, you start fidget with your legs trying to stop the sensation. Your fidgeting caused Tim to notice, “what’s wrong Angel?” You looked at him blushing, “the heat.....between my legs....I think I’m....im horny.” Tim blushes too and rubs your cheek with his thumb, “w-would you like me to help?” You gulp a bit knowing that it means sex, you didn’t like thinking about sex since it reminded you if your father selling your body on the street. Tim knee of your past and pushed your face so you look at him in the eyes, “I don’t have to put my dick in you angel if you don’t want it” you gulp a bit, “I-I don’t want you to use your dick but I still want you to touch me.” You take his hand and put in on your right breast forcing him to touch it. He smiles and squeezes you breast slightly making you blush then he spoke, “ok I’ll help but if you don’t like what in doing just say the word and I’ll stop.” You nod, “j-just be gentle.”

He nods and starts kissing you passionately on the lips as he feels you up you moan softly in the kiss. After a minute he gently lays you on the bed, he looks at your chest then you, “c-can I see them?” You blush a bit and nod, he slowly lifts your shirt up exposing your pink laced bra, “holy fuck....” he starts feeling your breast with the bra on looking at you to see if you disapprove of his actions, you blush a bit, “y-you can take it off.” He gulps and nods, he unclips your bra and threw your bra on the floor, “shit....” he pokes your hard nipples a little bit making you flinch, you had sensitive nipples, Tim took a mental note of that, he puts his face closer to your chest and he looks up at you waiting for approval, you nod and he starts licks your nipples. He licked them like a kid licking cream, he flicked your nipple a lot with his tongue enjoying the taste and enjoying the sounds of your small moans,

“t-Tim the heat.....it’s hotter~.” Tim pulls away and looks at you, “c-can I see it?” You blush and spread your legs a bit for him, “y-yes you can.” He moves lower so he’s facing your crotch, he noticed that you soaked yourself through your leggings, he smirks and rubbed his face between your legs making you blush a bit, it was like he was inhaling your scent. After a bit he pulls away and slides your legging off to see the laces pink panties that matching your bra. He smirks and slides your panties off, he looks at your wet spot, “it’s beautiful I wanna taste it” you blush at his words, “t-then taste me” he set his face between your legs and starts to slowly lick your clit making you moan softly, as he licks your clit he rubs your folds covering it with your slick.

After a bit he starts sucking and nibbling in your clit, causing you to grab a hand full of his hair, “t-Tim it feels hotter.” He knew you were gonna cum so he stuck his tongue inside of you making you arch your back and moan in your cute little voice. After what felt like forever of pleasure your flood gates open and cum into Tim’s mouth making you blush. Tim happy swallows every bit of you and wipes his mouth with his arm, “you taste amazing angel.” He lays next to you and cuddles you, “I loved the sound of your moans, it’s gonna make me wanna do this to you more.” You blush and buried your face in his chest embarrassed, he chuckles and stroked your hair, “I love your voice angel and I love you” you smile a bit, “I love you too Tim”

[ragingbookdragon]

Red & Silver In A Romance Not So Unfamiliar PT. 1

Tim Drake x Speedster!Reader Story!

A/N: This was actually an...impulse story (pun intended)...and I’m still happy with it because I actually like it. Enjoy! -Thorne <3

“How is it that you are the one who managed to get all the brain cells in the womb?” She sighed at his question, watching her twin nurse a bruise in the center of his face.

           “Honestly, that has baffled me since I became sentient.” She glanced at him, a grin on her lips. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m like ninety percent of Bart’s impulse control,” She held a hand up, silencing his groan, “No pun intended, so when I’m around he tends to be kept on a short leash.” She turned and stuck her tongue to her teeth, letting out a sharp whistle. The boys across the cave turned to her and she looked at he brother. “Bart, stop trying to phase the barrier.” Her brother threw his arms up.

           “But I can do it (Y/N)!” She sighed, rubbing her temples.

           “Bart, the barrier is built to withstand speedsters.” (Y/N) looked at him, emphasizing, “It’s made to stop speedsters from phasing into it.”

           “But what if I just had to go faster?” She threw her hands in the air, tone becoming exasperated.

           “Oh my god Bart.” Her hands dropped and she waved him off. “You know what, go nuts. Try and phase the barrier again.” An ear-splitting grin appeared on her twins face and he ran back a distance; the man beside her grunted,

           “Why are you-” She held up a hand.

           “You’ve got the barrier connected to the generators in the cave, right?” (Y/N) glanced at him and he nodded; she tipped her head to his gauntlet. “Redirect the power into the conduits on the side he’s gonna try and phase through.” The man nodded knowingly, fingers tapping on the screen at his wrist.

           “And when he hits the barrier, he gets zapped.” He clicked a button then looked at her. “Shouldn’t you be against harming your brother?” (Y/N) shrugged.

           “We heal fast. He’ll be alright.” She nodded at the barrier. “Just make sure the electricity is a higher voltage than what runs through our bodies or the only thing it’s gonna do is power him up not power him down.” The man laughed and they faced the barrier, watching Bart speed towards it only to stop once he hit it. He dropped, spazzing as the electricity surged through his body. The two boys standing apart from him dropped to his side, worry on their faces; (Y/N) called out to them. “He’s fine. He just looks like he got in a tangle with Godspeed.” She turned to the man beside her. “If we can put him in a bed Mr. Wayne, he’ll sleep it off for a few hours.” Bruce nodded, turning to walk up the steps. “Oh, can Tim, Conner, and I go to the carnival in town?” He raised a hand as he walked off.

           “Take Dick and Jason.” (Y/N) groaned, tossing her head back.

           “But we’re all eighteen…why do they have to come?” He gave her a laugh in response, and she sighed, watching Conner heft an unconscious Bart over his shoulders. Tim and Conner made their way to her and she tipped her head to the stairs. “Let’s go put thing two in Tim’s bed.” Conner snorted at her words, and Tim stared at her, a look of disgust on his face.

           “Why do we have to put him in my bed?” He pointed at Bart. “He drools! He’s drooling on Conner right now!” Conner twisted his head, trying to see Bart’s face on his shoulder.

           “What?!” (Y/N) rolled her eyes, climbing the steps.

           “The sooner we put him in bed the sooner we can get to the carnival.”

           “Don’t we have to take Dick and Jason with us?” She glanced at Tim, a smirk on her lips.

           “We do…but I’m sure the lot of us can figure out a way to give them the slip and then we can go run around the city.” The two boys grinned, breaking into a conversation about the trap they were going to set.

Later That Night:

           “See, this is fun, isn’t it?” The three of them glared at the man sitting in the driver’s seat.

           “Yeah, if fun is three eighteen-year-old vigilantes who need two chaperones with a combined intelligence of my right foot. But sure Dick, it’s fun.” The two boys on either side snorted at her words, and Dick looked at her from the rear-view mirror.

           “It’s not so bad (Y/N). Jaybird and I are just here to make sure that you three don’t get in trouble.”

           “Does Bruce expect us to get into a fight with somebody?” Jason spun around in the passenger’s seat, glaring at Conner.

           “The last time you three were in Gotham, you got into a fight with Joker, Penguin, and Two-Face’s gangs. At the same time.” He glared at Tim and (Y/N). “So yes, he does expect you to get into a fight.”

           “Technically they started a fight with us, we only defended ourselves.”

           “(Y/N), you and Bart broke someone’s spine by running into them.” She raised her hands in nonchalance at Dick’s words.

           “I mean if they aren’t built to withstand the slamming weight of two speedsters, that’s their problem and not ours.” Dick glanced at Jason, his voice lowering as he asked,

           “Does she ever scare you when she does that?” Jason shrugged, eying the carnival coming into view.

           “She’s got her head on straight. I won’t be sad about gangbangers.”

           “Yeah, we can still hear you, you know that right?” Dick chuckled, turning into the parking lot.

           “We’re aware.” Dick parked the car and looked back at them. “Let’s go have fun, eh?” The three groaned, climbing out of the backseat.

           “Ow Conner, that’s my foot!”

           “Well that’s my hand you’re kneeling on (Y/N)!”

           “Will you two just get out of the backseat so I can get out?” The two turned, glaring at Tim.

           “How ‘bout you shut-up or we’ll sit here all night?” Tim shrugged at her words, pulling his tablet from his backpack.

           “I mean, I like doing nothing anyways so…” (Y/N) reached over, plucking the tablet from his hands. He reached for it, but she pressed a hand to his chest, keeping it from his reach.

           “You told me you wouldn’t bring this with you.” Tim rolled his eyes.

           “I brought it in case we had an emergency.” (Y/N) glanced at the tablet, scanning the screen.

           “And is that emergency the state of your Pokémon go team?”

           “There might be legendaries around.” The two climbed out of the car, and (Y/N) passed his tablet back.

           “You’re such a nerd Tim.” He leaned beside her, nudging her arm.

           “Takes one to know one.”

           “Fair point.” As Tim shoved his tablet back in his bag, Dick and Jason walked back over, handing them their wristbands.

           “Alright, neon pink means you can go on as many rides as you want, so long as you flash them the band. What do you guys want to do first?” The three wound the bands around their wrists, and Tim looked at his brothers.

           “Don’t you guys have something better to do?” The two crossed their arms.

           “Nope.” Tim eyed his oldest brother.

           “Really? No date to go on?” Dick shook his head and Tim looked at Jason. “No Outlaws to hang out with?”

           “Kori’s with Damian and the Teen Titans, and Roy’s hanging with Wally in Central.”

           “Damn, all your friends are busy, aren’t they?” They glanced at (Y/N) who wore an unamused look. “You know we can handle ourselves.”

           “We already talked about this (Y/N).” She rolled her eyes as she started walking towards the gates.

           “Yeah well, I didn’t finish arguing about it, so no we didn’t.” Tim and Conner laughed as they followed her.

           For a solid hour, the three friends spent their time being followed by Tim’s brothers. The three climbed into the hollowed figure, closing the gate before Dick and Jason could climb in with them. (Y/N) smiled sweetly at the two quipping, “Sorry boys…this one’s full.” She tipped her head to the empty one across the platform. “Maybe try the other one?” The two glared, but conceded, and once they were in, the ride started. Immediately, the three started spinning the wheel in the center, but also started their plan; Tim spoke first.

           “Alright, Dick and Jason are two of the best trackers alive, and if we’re gonna get away, we need a solid plan of escape.”

           “We could always run once the ride ends?” (Y/N) shook her head at Conner’s suggestion.

           “No, we need to lose them in the carnival then make a run for it.” She glanced at Tim. “They’re your brothers…what are their strengths and weaknesses in terms of carnival rides?” Tim sat back against the seat, thinking, and (Y/N) added, “This ride’s gonna last for another minute Tim. Hurry up the gray matter.” He nodded, sitting back up.

           “Dick can escape mirror mazes faster than Wally, so we can’t put him in there, but Jason might be able to spend enough time searching for a way out that we can get away.” He looked at (Y/N). “You’d be the best person to do that job.” She nodded, and he looked at Conner. “You stay with (Y/N) and I’ll go with Dick to the Shock Drop.”

           “How are you gonna get out of that Tim?” He glanced at (Y/N) who wore a concerned expression. “The bars lock once they lower. You won’t be able to get out.” Tim flashed a smile and shimmied his shoulders.

           “I can wriggle out of anything.”

           “And you don’t think Dick couldn’t do it either? Your brother’s practically a contortionist.” Tim waved off Conner’s objections.

           “I used to think me being small and lanky was a bad thing, but in the sense of a bar that locks a few good inches from your chest, it’s actually a great thing. Dick’s shoulders are too broad for him to maneuver out of the bar in time to catch me.”

           “I mean, in a sense it’s a good plan, but if you can’t get out fast enough, you’ll be in serious danger.” (Y/N) turned to Conner. “I can phase through the mirror maze with no trouble. Stay with Tim and if anything happens, get him out.” Conner nodded, and the ride began to slow. She looked at them, a sharp look in her eyes. “Everybody know the plan?” They nodded. “Suits ready to change into?” They nodded once more, and she grinned. “Alright then. Let’s get this show on the road.”

Ten Minutes Later:

           The two stepped into the mirror maze, getting into the line; Jason glanced at (Y/N). “I’m surprised you want to do a maze (Y/N). I thought you didn’t like enclosed spaces?” She shrugged, eyeing the neon lights.

           “I don’t like spaces that have no exits.” She looked at him. “If I know there’s an exit, I can deal.” Jason nodded, and the line moved forward, putting them closer to the front.

           “I’m sorry you’re stuck with Dickhead and I.” (Y/N) laughed at his apology, and she waved him off.

           “It’s cool. I understand Mr. Wayne’s concerns about us.” Jason eyed her, his tone in slight disbelief.

           “You do?” She nodded.

           “We can get into a lot of trouble when we aren’t supervised, so I can get behind the chaperone.” She glanced at Jason. “But two is a little excessive.” The line moved forward again, and it was their turn to go in. They wandered through the maze, and (Y/N) glanced at her wristwatch. She had about a minute until she needed to set out; she watched Jason wander into another dead in and turn around, brushing past her.

           “This is a dead end.” (Y/N) waited until he turned the corner, then changed into her suit. Drawn back by the noise and the flash of silver lightning, he turned the corner to see her smirking at him; he pointed at her. “Don’t you dare.” (Y/N) flipped him a peace sign and turned, speeding into the mirrors and out the other side. She could hear him yelling as she exited the maze, and as she turned, she saw Conner and Tim running towards her, already in suits. Conner waved a hand.

           “Start running! The shock drop just went down! Dick will be out in a few seconds!” (Y/N) nodded, running forward and leaning down in front of Tim.

           “Climb on and hang on! We have to go now!” He climbed on her back, wrapping his legs and arms securely around her, and she spun, speeding off. (Y/N) was certain Conner was following her and when she stopped, he landed on the rooftop beside them. She lowered Tim to the ground, laughing as he sprawled on the roof and groaned. “You good Timmy?” He waved weakly.

           “I have vertigo right now.” Conner and she laughed at their friend, laying on either side of him. They stared up at the stars, and after a moment, Tim quipped, “Dick and Jay are gonna be so mad when they find us.”

           “It’ll be worth it though.” (Y/N) glanced at him. “I couldn’t stand another minute being followed by those two.” Before anyone could say anything, a grumble sounded from Tim’s other side, and they looked over at Conner, who wore a faint blush.

           “Uh…sorry…I haven’t eaten anything since this morning.” Tim and (Y/N) laughed, and Tim reached into his belt, pulling out a fifty.

           “Go get a pizza and bring it back.” Conner scoffed, but took the bill anyway.

           “What am I? Your maid?” (Y/N) smiled at him.

           “No, you’re our best friend who enjoys feeding us with Tim’s money.” Conner rolled his eyes and rose from the building.

           “There’s a pizza joint like a block from here. I’ll be right back.” The two nodded, watching him fly off before returning their gaze to the sky. After a moment, (Y/N) felt fingers brush her palm, and she looked down, seeing Tim lace his fingers through hers; she grinned at the sight.

           “Why Timmy…are you making a move on me?” Tim laughed, looking at her.

           “I think I’ve already made a move on you (Y/N).”

           “Mmm…you have.” (Y/N) rolled over, looping her arm over his waist and resting her head on his shoulder. His arm curled around her waist, pulling her closer to him, and they laid in silence until she said, “I wonder if your dad is gonna shit a brick when he realizes we’re dating.” This time, Tim snorted, and he raised a hand to muffle his laughter.

           “Can you imagine the family dinners when we have to invite Bart over?”

           “You mean more than you already do?”

           “Yes.” (Y/N) nodded.

           “Yeah…your dad is gonna shit a brick.” The two of them giggled at that, and (Y/N) gazed at him. “I love you Red Robin.” She poked the end of his pointed mask. “Pointy beak and all.” Tim rolled his eyes.

           “The mask isn’t that pointy.”

           “True…but it was really pointy when you looked like Doc Midnight.” Tim sighed in exasperation.

           “Oh my god, no one is gonna let that go, are they?” (Y/N) grinned.

           “Nope…now tell me you love me, so I don’t look like a fool for telling you.” Tim glanced down at her, hand raising to caress her cheek.

           “I love you Silver Streak.” (Y/N) turned her face to the side, kissing his palm.

           “Prove it.”

           “Escaping a carnival with a master plan so we could be alone isn’t proof enough?” He let out a breath. “Woo Ms. Allen, you are a tough woman to please.”

           “And you Mr. Drake are most certainly not trying your hardest.” Tim’s lips curled into a smirk and he leaned down murmuring,

           “Then let me fix that.” As their lips brushed together, they heard a grunt from behind them.

           “If you guys are gonna do that, please do it when I’m not coming back with food. That kinda defeats the purpose of me bringing food.” The two looked up to see Conner walking towards them, pizza boxes in one hand, a soda pack in the other. They pulled apart, sitting away from each other and Conner waved them off. “You guys don’t have to get all antsy about it. I know you’ve been seeing each other for a few months.” (Y/N) raised an eyebrow, taking the boxes from him.

           “You do?” Conner nodded, deadpanning,

           “I think you guys are forgetting that I have super hearing.” He stared at them. “You two aren’t exactly quiet in the tower.” The two looked down, cheeks warming at the truth coming out. Conner gestured to the pizza. “Are you gonna open that? Because I’m still hungry.” (Y/N) passed him the box, and he flipped it open, setting it down in front of them. They each took a piece, and after a moment Conner asked, “Have you told anyone yet?” Tim and (Y/N) shook their heads.

           “No…we were gonna do it at the gala next month.” Conner nodded.

           “Cool.” He went back to eating, and Tim stared at him questioning,

           “You don’t have any objections? No complaints?”

           “Nope.” He glanced at (Y/N). “Not my sister you’re dating.” She rolled her eyes at that.

           “Bart’s not gonna be upset about it. Just that we didn’t tell him earlier.” Conner hummed, and they went back to eating. When they’d finished, they sat on the ledge overlooking the city. (Y/N) glanced at the cars passing in the street. “Do you think Dick and Jason have figured out where we’ve gone yet?”

           “No, they probably called Bruce and told…actually, no they wouldn’t call Bruce and admit that they got duped by three eighteen-year-olds.” He glanced at another rooftop. “They’re probably looking for us.” (Y/N) rested her chin on her hand.

           “Do you think Bart’s awake yet?” Tim shook his head.

           “Nah…the voltage was pretty high on the barrier…he’s still out cold.” Before she could ask another question, Conner stood up, pointing to the west side of Gotham.

           “There’s a bank robbery in process over in that direction.” The other two stood up, and (Y/N) nodded at him.

           “Go, we’ll be right behind you.” Conner took off, making his way across the city, and (Y/N) turned to Tim. “Well Red Robin…ready for a night of patrol?” Tim grinned, pulling out his grapple.

           “Ready and waiting Silver Streak.”

[yandere-romanticaa]

In the dark of the night.

Was this fic needed? No. Am I still going to write it...? Yes! Based of a drawing of Fyodor taking the place of the Joker from the DC universe. If you guys liked this let me know, because I have another idea.👀

"This just came in, another bank robbery happened today at the Gotham City Bank! We have reasons to believe that the culprit is none other the Joker, or if we go by his civilian name, Fyodor Dostoyevsky..."

"Another attack from the terrorists happened today at 17:00 at the park..."

"They're everywhere, and the police aren't doing shit! How are we gonna-?!"

Turning off the TV, the (h/c)ette frowned at the news. There was no escaping these stories, was there? They were everywhere! Every single day something had to happen and someone always got killed in the process! It was depressing really... What a sad world this was. People killing eachother on the streets, the endless crimes were just suffocating. (y/n) had no idea how she was even alive by this point but she just kept moving foward. She loved this city, she really did, but boy did it have its problems.

Getting up from the sofa, she grabbed her jacket and purse. She was feeling hungry and knowing that there was nothing in the fridge, (y/n) decided that the best thing to do was to go to the nearest grocery store and to buy some groceries. She locked her door and made her way out of the building. She walked down the dimly lit streets of Gotham city, the warm rays of the setting sun tingling her skin. She had no clue in just how much danger she was in this very moment as a pair of eyes stared at her from the distance.

"Your little mouse has left her den, boss."

"....thank you, Goncharov~"

♡♡♡

The sun had fully set when (y/n) had gotten to the store. She opened the glass door to see the cashier reading a newspaper, not really paying attention to her. She shrugged him off as she grabbed a basket and walked down the isles. The bright lighting of the store was almost too much for (y/n), but it was nice to be out of the apartament. She had been stuck inside her home for the entire day due to work related issues. Now, she could finally relax and have a nice evening.

Entering the ceral isle, she looked at the many diffirent cereal boxes, wondering which one she should take. All of them looked wounderful to her, although some were a lot more sugary then other. Before she could reach out her hand to grab a box, an odd sense of dread came over her. Something felt... wrong somehow. She felt like she was being watched, like someone was burning holes at the back of her head. She turned her head at both sides of the isle and was met with utter silence. The lights of the store lightly flickered, giving the entire situation an even more eerie feel. Her hands felt cold as she could still feel that stare, but for the life of her she just could not find out where it was coming from. Without even thinking, she quickly grabbed a couple of things and left the store in less the five minutes.

Oh, how little did she know that her life was going to change so drastically from that evening forward.

♡♡♡

Ever since that night, the constant sensation of being followed had become an all to familiar feeling to (y/n). No matter where she went she always felt watched, like this other person was sizing her up, studying her to see how she would react. Several of her co-workers had mysteriously vanished without a single trace and (y/n) worried that she was going to be the next target. All of those news reports came back to her, how the Joker and his gang kidnapped innocent people for their own gain. She was no longer the happy, bubbly girl everyone knew but now she was slowly turning in to a frightened and catious individual who never dared to step foot out of her door after dark.

It didn't help that she lived in a somewhat dangerous area of the city, and that she was alone. Her friends were always scattered and she always had to walk alone in the dark. No matter where she went, (y/n) could never seem to find peace. Her workplace, with her friends, at the mall, in her home... She felt violated, this constant feeling of being watched was far too much for her. She didn't understand why this was happening, but then again neither did the culprit.

Fyodor was never the type for love and romance. He had a dream, a dream of cleansing this world and all of the sinners within it. But somewhere along the line, someone had caught his eye. This rather odd girl who went by the name of (y/n). She fascinated him but he was also confused. Why was he feeling like this? He was a God, he was supposed to be stronger then this damn it. How was one little girl able to make him feel so weak, so human? And yet again, he wanted her all for himself. He wanted to see what makes her tick, he wanted to hear her cries for him and him only. The big bad villian of Gotham city had falled in love but Fyodor would never say that. His ego simply wouldn't allow it. Then again, that isn't really going to stop him from getting (y/n). He was slowly making her his own, day by day he was one step closer. He got rid of all of his rivals, her bills were somehow "overdue", she almost never had electricity now and was having trouble with work.

Yeah, she was going to be homeless in no time.

♡♡♡

Just like that, in a mere two months (y/n) had lost it all. Her family, friends, home, money, everything was just gone. She had no one to turn to, nowhere to run. The landlord had kicked her out of her apartment which meant that she was forced to spend the night on the streets. Tears pricked (y/n)'s eyes as she looked around. The street was dark and there were almost no people around. The cold winter wind danced across (y/n)'s frame as she shivered. The moon had risen long ago and it felt oddly comforting despite her situation, almost as though the gentle moonlight was trying to comfort her, that she was going to be safe.

But that couldn't be further from the truth.

Far away in the darkness lurked danger, a danger (y/n) never anticipated. Hungry violet eyes watched her shaky form walk down the street as he spoke to his men. He gave out the orders, and they would follow them to the end.

"My, my Fyo, you sure do have good taste~!"

"Quiet Kolya! If you don't shut up we'll be spotted..."

Fyodor raised his gloved hand in the air which in turn caused complete silence. That didn't stop the clown from grining from ear to ear though. His boss was plotting and it was always entertaining to see him be so serious. They all moved out, quietly following (y/n). They stuck closely together like a pack of wild mice, never letting her out of their sight. Fyodor felt excited, dare he say happy even. His little mouse was so close, she was going to be his for all of eternity. No longer would the sinners of the world taint her innocence as he would keep it all to himself. Who knows, he might just toy with that innocence he oh so adores...

After a bit of walking, (y/n) stopped in front of a dark alleyway. Honestly, could things get anymore perfect? He mirrored her footsteps like a shadow as she remained oblivious to his presence. The poor girl was tired, all she wanted was to just sleep. She hoped, begged God for all of this to be some kind of nightmare. That the Joker wasn't real, that he wasn't wreaking havoc in her beloved city, that she hadn't lost all of her friends, her home...

Fyodor was mere inches away from her now and with lightning speed, he grabbed a syringe from his pocket and pricked (y/n)'s neck with it. She gasped in horror, placing her hand on that same spot. The drug was strong, which caused (y/n) to lose her balance in mere seconds. Looking up she was met with a sight she never wanted to see. That evil grin, those twisted violet eyes... It was everything the girl wanted to avoid and yet here he was.

The devil himself had decided to take her.

Cold and short breaths escaped (y/n)'s frosty lips as she tried to fight the drugs, but whenever she tried to lift a finger it just would not move. Soon enough, shadows and whispers were all around her as she felt herself beibg carried away. Wicked giggles and horrible smiles painted her vision as her poor mind turned numb and black.

The Joker had won. He was proud to say that all that hard work and patience had been worth it. He had his little darling in his arms and for a second, everything just felt... perfect.

[ohallthecrushes]

I got you stuck in my head, isn’t it funny? Part 5 // Joker x Reader

A/N: Part 4 was short so this one is kinda long, longer than I expected. He kidnapped you on a date and this is mostly about powerplay between you and him, both sexual and not. He wants to take control over you and you resist him. You’re a smart girl, but he’s smarter, sorry.

Contains: powerplay, anxiety, some manipulation, oral sex, nudity, sexual tension.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Word counts: 3499

He leaned so close to you that you could easily inhale the mix of cigarettes, sweet wine, greasepaint, cologne and Joker’s own certain scent into your nostrils. You hadn’t been aware of that before, but he smelled as great as he looked. That cologne he was using smelled mostly like eucalyptus and patchouli which somehow worked very good with the scent of cigarettes he smoked a lot, enclosing him with this refreshing yet intimidating vibes.

Some scientists said that the sense of smell is linked to the memory storage and smelling a familiar scent is the easiest way to bring back memories.

Apparently they had a point.

His thumb was making small circles on your wrist and you wondered if he even realized how hypnotizing it was. You were sitting on the chair and staring into his eyes, but you couldn’t feel your body anymore, your mind drifted to the hospital bed where he took you to cloud nine as abruptly and unexpectedly as he brought you back to the hard ground.

You parted your lips to give an expression on wanting to say something, but honesty you didn’t have anything clever to say. You didn’t want him to get your joke the way it really was - a not so subtle subtext and not so well hidden invitation for oral sex.

On the other hand, you really, really, really want him to get it.

- That’s sweet... - his soft amused voice broke the silence - But I think I did it already, didn’t I?

Damn, his mind was as filthy as yours.

Your eyes trailed over his face. He was so close, you could see the details of his face under his greasepaint, the scar above his upper lip, every wrinkle, every pore. The white color didn’t reach his hair, but his eyelids were painted and some of the greasepaint encased his long eyelashes. His thick eyebrows were tousled by the paintbrush giving him a look of a wild animal.

You leaned a little bit forward, your nose almost touched his. His red painted lips looked so delicious...

He smirked at you understanding of what you were about to do. It flattered him that you wanted him, but he didn’t want your forming relationship to be based only on sex. You could feel his hand slid off of yours as he leaned back to sit down on his chair.

You almost yelped, so unsatisfied you were by his action.

He made himself comfortable again on the chair, his hands politely rested on the table, his head ducked down. He looked up at you from his eyebrows and you saw an excitement floating in his green oceans.

- I don’t know if someone already told you that, but I was in Murray Franklin show - he said with a low voice as his eyes searched for your reaction.

- Wow, really? - you raised your eyebrows in surprise. You remembered him talking about this show and how much he liked watching Murray - Congratulations. How was it?

- Exactly how I imagined... - he straightened himself up, the excitement in his eyes only increased - The audience responded lively to all of my jokes, especially the last one - he smiled lightly as his eyes lowered and you noticed his eyebrow tilted up. You couldn’t say why, but it looked like his smile was partly... sad?

- That’s awesome, how did you get there?

- Oh, Murray invited me after he’d seen my gig at Pogo’s - his smile faded away suddenly as his eyes lost their excitement - to make fun of me.

You blinked a few times. The ambiance around you changed very quickly from excitement to disappointment that was clearly heard in Joker’s voice. Arthur adored Murray, to the point of obsessions you would say, he must had been very happy at first that he’d gotten a chance to meet his idol. But being invited just to being laughed at? It must had hurt him in a way you couldn’t even imagined. You didn’t know the host of this show, you had barely watched a few episodes, but you didn’t like that guy, He had good jokes, but he also liked to make fun of people. Not any specific person though, some nameless individuals, that probably didn’t even exist like his sons, but still, making fun of people was the main formula in his show.

- I’m so sorry, Art- Joker - you said honesty as you heard your own emotions in your voice - He shouldn’t have laughed at you, that’s a... that’s a dick move. A terribly distasteful way to make the audience laugh and get the show going. I’m sorry to say that, but Murray is a dick.

His gaze softened as he looked at you. A smile of amusement reappeared on his face.

- It’s okey - he said in a way that seemed like he was comforting you even though it was his idol that turned out to be unworthy of Arthur’s admiration - he won’t laugh at anyone anymore.

- What do you mean?

His smile widened and you could hear his leg bouncing again. He grabbed his knee under the table and sighed.

- It doesn’t matter, he just won’t, trust me.

You nodded your head, biting your lip to silent another question. You had some bad feeling about it, a strange reminder that Joker is unpredictable. There was a warning in his last words as if he told you to not ask about it, cause you’d be better off not knowing.

Another piece of the puzzle.

- So... - he changed the topic - do you need something? D’you wanna watch TV or dance maybe?

You opened your mouth as you suddenly saw a chance to get out of this flat. Maybe you wouldn’t have to sneak out of here, maybe he’d just let you go?

- I think I’m good, thanks - you smiled politely, the next words left your mouth rather quickly - It was awesome to meet you again and talk. Great date, but I’d better be going, it’s late.

This was it. The end of the first date was about going home. Alone. A kiss goodnight. Split out.

It didn’t matter that it was still a day, it was late to you. You didn’t wait for his response, you got up and was about to move to the door. He didn’t rush to you to stop you, he watched you from his seat with a look of displeasure on his face.

- Going where, kitten? - he called you out as you were passing him by. You felt his long fingers grabbing your wrist - Where can you possibly go?

The tone of his voice hardened and you turned to look at his furrowed eyebrows. The grip on your wrist wasn’t tight. Actually he didn’t hold you down even, his fingers were placed loosely around your wrist, just to draw your attention. It wasn’t a threat, it was a chance for you to stop and think again.

He was right with his question, you had nowhere to go, your old apartment was occupied by a person that had abused you in the past, and you had no other place to stay. Just the hospital that was burning to the ground. You wanted to leave Gotham, but how and where exactly?

- I-I’ll find something - your voice cracked and you failed to sound sure about it.

- You don’t know what it’s like out there, Y/N - there was a sign of concern in his voice as he shifted his body to you, his legs spread apart as he gained more space for them - Trust me, you’ll be safe here.

You took a moment to rethink that. There was a riot that had started at the hospital and now it was probably spreading all over the city. You didn’t know how bad it was. You didn’t know about many things, you’d been locked away for so long...  Maybe you were safe from what was going on in Gotham, staying in this flat, but were you safe with Joker? Did you even have a choice?

- I just need to know that I’m free to go - you whispered and he sighed, knowing that the urge to just run away was too strong for you to ignore it. He couldn’t protect you if you didn’t want him to. All he could do was to plant a seed of a doubt in your anxious mind and wait until it sprouted. So he nodded his head and let go of your hand.

- Of course, Kitten. You’re a free person, you can go if you want.

He leaned back on his chair and didn’t move, just watching as you slowly, carefully moved to the door. You turned around a few times to look at him, just to make sure he wasn’t going at you with another syringe in his hand.

But he weren’t. He was sitting on his chair, suspiciously relaxed and calm, and you started to wonder did he really let you go.

What was the catch?

You walked over the dark blue painted door and your eyes landed on the door-handle. Was it really safer to leave this flat? Before you reached for it, you glanced up and saw a deadbolt and a lock. The deadbolt was slid into the locked down position. And there was no key in the lock.

Fucker.

- I assume the door is locked and you have the key, right?

- Why don’t you check? - his voice was as low and calm as it could be and you turned around to face him. He didn’t look at you, he stared down at his fingernails instead.

- You locked me up in the bedroom before, I don’t think I even need to check this door - you respond with opposed emotions, upset and annoyance.

- The door was locked because I was preparing a surprise for you and didn’t want you to see it before I finished - he explained calmly as he ran his hand through his green hair, still avoiding eye contact with you.

He sounded sincere and hurt too for not trusting him, but still... you had to check. You shifted to the door and opened the deadbolt with a scraping sound. The small chain fell away and your hand landed on the door-handle. Just when you were to push it down you heard a soft noise behind you and you quickly turned around, only to see Joker standing in front of the player, changing the music.

That’s life started playing.

- Would it be too much if I asked you to dance with me before you go? - he asked with puppy eyes and you hesitated for a moment with your hand still on the door-handle. You could go, he said you could. you had a choice you wanted.

And you had an anxiety that kept you from going out.

Joker was standing before you with one hand in his pocket swaying gracefully to the rhythm, and you could feel like he was drawing you to himself with his longing stare and his body language. A shiver ran down your spine and you felt a pleasant heat in your lower belly. You were attracted to him much more than you were willing to admit.

Your hand fell off the door-handle as you slowly took the first steps towards him. You really wanted to cover the distance between you two and you did it quickly. Just as he did in the hospital room.

Wasn’t it funny how the roles changed?

You quickened your steps and almost bumped onto him as you grabbed him by the lapels of his red suit and pulled him down to kiss you. Your lips brushed over his softly, and he stilled, but didn’t pull back. Your eyes were closed but his were open watching you under his eyelashes. He let you part his lips as you licked them with the tip of your tongue. Your hands slid up to sink into his curls and at that moment he closed his eyes and reciprocated the kiss parting his mouth wider to catch your tongue with his. You were pulled closer to him by his hand around your waist as his other hand rested gently on your cheek. You could feel his body went back to swaying in the rhythm to Frank Sinatra’s song and you were swaying with him, slowly and intimately while your tongue was exploring the roof of his mouth.

The kiss was also slow and intimate, he didn’t rush you with anything, he just was there with you in this moment, feeling like the luckiest guy in the world. 

Your taste buds collected the taste of the greasepaint, the wine, the cigarettes and you breathed in the scent of his cologne.

Intoxicated you felt.

And you wanted more.

One of your hand slid down to his chest and then lower to the waist of his pants. He raised his eyebrow as your fingers brushed over his hardening cock. He broke the kiss as his lips kissed your jaw and the side of your neck. You tilted your head as you kept your mouth open to moan softly into his ear in a teasing way. Your hand started stroking him over the fabric and he groaned, nibbling into your skin.

- Naughty Kitten. Wanna tease me like that? - he murmured as he reached up with his hand on your back, found the zipper of your dress and pulled it down.

The upper part of the black dress loosened up and the straps slid down your shoulders. He shifted his head to look at you and you saw a challenge for you in his dark eyes.

- Go ahead then.

Go ahead.

You felt your heart skipped a beat in excitement, but you accepted his challenge. You pulled back from him a little and lowered your hands, letting the dress fall off your breast and pooled around your hips. He glanced down at your bare boobs and you hesitated with taking the dress completely off of you. You didn’t have any panties on you.

He sensed your uncertainty and licked his lips trying to hide a smirk that flashed across his face.

- Go on with what you were going to do - he encouraged you with another challenge look in his eyes.

If you were thinking that you could tease him and take the lead, then you were terribly wrong. He was going to show you it wasn’t that easy to dominate him, he was a lot better with this powerplay than you.

You smirked at him too and removed the dress, standing in front of him completely naked.

There was a short pause between you two as he took you all in, before your eyes locked and his hands were back on you pressing your body to his, kissing you hungrily.

The friction of his clothes against your skin was utterly erotic, the cold fabric brushed against your breast, making your pink buds hard. His hands traveled all over your body as he slipped one hand between your thighs and found your clit, rubbing it with his fingers. You moaned against his mouth as he slid one finger between your folds feeling how wet you were. You broke the kiss and hid your face in the crook of his neck. He was successively taking the whole control over you and you planned to stop him there.

You brushed yourself over his hard cock and your hand grabbed his hair gently pulling his head back. His breathing changed into a heavy pant and you took the chance to attack his neck with your mouth, sucking and nibbling on his skin, leaving there redish hickeys.

He focused on rubbing your clit as he softly caressed your lower back, sending goosebumps all over your body. You, on the other hand, focused on unbuttoning his shirt as you kept kissing and sucking on his neck. Your fingers worked with the buttons, one by one, until his soft vibrating in his throat voice made you to stop.

- Kitten...

You pulled your mouth away from his neck and looked up at him, your fingers stopped somewhere in the middle of their job, the same as his.

The green oceans darkened, but you could still see the depth of his soul in them. There was everything in his eyes, lust, passion, affection, excitement, concern, longing and something much bigger than all of these, something you couldn’t name yet or maybe you could but didn’t quite want to.

- Yes?

- Is your invitation still open? - he murmured his question and you furrowed your brows not getting for a moment what he was talking about.

Oh.

You could feel your cheeks burning.

- Y-yes - you managed to whisper.

He smiled at you as he gently grabbed you by your waist and guided your body to the chair. You sat down and he knelt before you, spreading your legs with his hands. The gates of paradise opened, inviting him in and he was going to kiss his way to the entrance. His lips started pressing soft kisses against your inner thighs and you watched him, a little bit embarrassed, but utterly turned on, slightly lowering your ass to the edge of the seat.

- So impatience, aren’t you, Kitten?

You bit your lip, wishing you could throw some smart remarks at him, to take back control, but your head was empty of words as he kept you on the edge, never letting you fully dominate him.

His face was inches before your throbbing clit, his hands caressing your thighs in light motions, and he decided to rub your pink button with his nose like an Eskimo kiss. You gasped in surprise and he chuckled, glancing up at you.

- Oh, just eat me already - you breathed out with a husky but playfully voice.

- As you wish, Kitten.

He pressed his face closer and you could feel his tongue on your swollen lips, licking them open, wetting every nook and swirling around your sweet button.

You grabbed the edge of the chair with one hand as the other rested on his head, playing with his hair. Having his tongue and mouth back on your sensitive parts brought you a rush of heat in your core immediately and you found yourself already built up to the brink of an orgasm.

Your chest was going up and down and your hips jerked up against his mouth that opened wider as he took it all in, sucking gently at your clit. His hand moved down and you could feel his finger rubbing the entrance in smal circles, before he pushed his index finger slowly inside you. You moaned and tilted your head back at the new sensation. He hummed satisfied by your reaction and added another finger in, curling them up, pressing the fingertips against your g-spot.  He slowly started to fuck you as he continued to play with your clit.

The pace wasn’t too fast or too slow, he enjoyed this moment too much to rush you to your climax, but couldn't resist you enough to stretch it out in time neither. With his eyes closed he savored you, tasting your arousal and listening to your sweet moans that were like music to his ears. He felt the walls around his fingers tightened and he glanced up at your rosy cheeks and parted lips, your legs began trembling a little and he knew you were very close to finish. He hummed and kept with his pace until he felt increasing wetness coming out of your entrance. The walls clamped tightly around his fingers the same as your grip on his hair, as the first wave hit you, making your toes curl up and your body shake with pleasure. Juices were flowing down on his hand and he extended his tongue to lick it all.

It was the second time he had been down on you and he already knew he became addicted. The way you looked from down there, the way you tasted, the way you responded to him so eagerly and the way your body was overwhelmed by the pleasure he was giving you? He’d been dreaming about this, about you for so long and oh, now that his dreams had finally come true, he wasn’t going to let them go.

Your body slowly relaxed, almost melted under the orgasm that had hit you, your walls still pulsating around his fingers, your breathing shallow and fast. and you ducked your head down to look at him. A wide smile spread across your face and he stared at you completely enchanted by the way you looked.

No, he wasn’t going to let you go.

Taglist:  @CURIOUSWILDI, @GREENSADMOON, @OBSESSEDANDTHIRSTY, @LADY-CARNIVALS-STUFF, @CREAMOFCORPSE, @POSESSEDXPARROT, @GERONIMOSANNA, @IAMTHEVERYBIGGESTGAY, @SIRIANFROMSIXTIES, @JOKERHOE​, @PCRUSHINNERD , @homemade-aesthetic​

[eremika-forever12]

Eremika Fanfic : Remember Me!?

Previous Chapter link- Chapter 3

Chapter: 4

Stirring a spoon in the bowl of stew....Mikasa glances at Eli from the corner of her eyes....from the kitchen.

Eli was being quite than his usual self....like he has that sadness and guilty expression on his face since he woke up from that bad dream of his...

It was night by now....Mikasa is making their dinner while Eli was just sitting in the dining space....staring at the book infront of him...

But Mikasa could clearly see through him....Eli was just lost in somewhere else but had no concentration in the book...

He was just 5 but he was a school going boy too....though he was in nurseries they did have some sort of studies and exams! Eli had a brilliant mind most probably it was because he was half Ackraman too....he is sharp and intelligent even the school authorities knew that....but due to the rumours of him being the child of the last holder of founding titan who almost crushed the whole world ....Eli is treated very differently! Mikasa knew that well but she doesnt care about the people around her....for her , Eli getting adequate knowledge from school matters the most.

Eli came out of his trance as soon as he heard Mikasa calling out his name....

Mikasa placing a bowl of soup infront him- Eli....You seem lost!

Eli stares at his mother shocked but then composes himself- Huh...What?

Mikasa raises her eye brows as she sat opposite him – Hmmm....you seem to be thinking about something else! Cause I dont see you studying for real!

Eli was confused about what to answer....it was true he wasnt actually studying....he was thinking about his dream and that stranger....but he cant let his mom know that!

Eli confidently as he argues back – Mommm....Can you stop overthinking ? Alright? I was....just feeling sleepy okay!

Eli tries to give a fake yawn and acts sleepy in his childish voice - aahhh....I am hungry! M..moomm...Lets get...done with the dinner!

Eli was about to take the empty small bowl and pour the soup into it when Mikasa holds his hand stopping him and says “ You....are Red! It means you are hiding something form me! What is it?”

Eli feels heat travelling through his round cheeks....he started to feel nervous & embarrass at same time.

He shrugs off her hand as he angrily says- Heyyyy Whats The Problem! Seriously? Why do you always suspect me of hiding something!

Mikasa rolls her eyes as she takes her seat- Always? Nope....you rarely hide something from me! Isnt it? Cause you are really bad at hiding anyways...so whatever it is you can tell me...I am your Mom after all!

Eli frowns at Mikasa and was just about to say something but she interrupts “ You can take your time....I am not forcing you Okay! “

Eli stares at his mom a bit stunned while Mikasa continues softly- You think I am just an annoying over protective stupid mother right? I am sorry about that....I just cant stop caring about you (pauses a bit as she stares directly into those green eyes) You are the only one I have now!

Eli could feel the sadness in his mother voice....he feels bad....as he realises he has somewhat made his mom upset! And he feels bad about it now...his mom is not annoying...yeah she kinda gets into his head at times but he loves her!

Eli with guilt ridden eyes and broken voice- Mom I didnt mean to hurt you by any way...

Mikasa looks at Eli a bit stunned as Eli says “ You know I Love You! Please dont say that you are annoying....”

Mikasa sighs seeing those eyes & the puppy face...

He resembles him so much....thinks Mikasa!

Mikasa smiles lightly- So you want to say something?

Eli lowers his eyes....he wasnt really sure about how his mother will react knowing he didnt go to school today rather ran off a bit far away without her ...he never really get the chance to roam around the city like other kids do. He is always stuck in his home, occasionally Mikasa just take him with her to market place...

Fearing his mother's reaction....Eli thinks maybe this isnt the right time....moreover if he actually tells about meeting with a stranger who kind of matches with the person he sees in his dream....his Mom gonna freak out a big time.

Seeing Eli being silent, Mikasa realised he was hesitating....but rather asking him again Mikasa calmly says “ Its Okay...You can tell me some other time! Let's have our dinner!”

Back of the mind, Mikasa was pretty much sure something was wrong....and she needs to find it out! If Eli doesnt tell her, she will find it out by herself!

***********

Walking across the corridor of school, Eli heads for his class...his head was lowered as his gaze was fixed to the ground.

He was completely in guilt mood for still hiding about bunking the school day before.

So today he swore to himself....he will never do that again...

Today he will concentrate only at his studies and wont care about what people tell him...or joke about him...

Eli enters the classroom as he gazes upwards and finds other kids staring at him awkwardly .... same weird looks at him....

His green eyes rolled in a dull way as he heads towards a seat...

He could hear whispers around but this time Eli decided to be unaffected!

Eli was about to take a seat in the 3rd bench when a boy ran to him and pushed him aside while occupying the seat at the same time...

Eli looked at him with a scowling face while that kid simply showed him tounge sticking out...

Eli decided to ignore him as he walked to the last bench and sat there alone with annoyance on his face....while that boy just smirked at him evilly...

Eli sighed, he just doesn't understand why these people are so problematic towards him...

He just shoves off the whole feeling of being hated at that moment before it could take over his mind....just when the teacher entered the class and everyone stood up to show respect including Eli....

*******

The Class got over as the bell rang...it was break time now...

Eli takes his back pack on his back as he starts walking out silently with a tiffin box in his hand. Just when he suddenly tripped off at door making him fall on the ground with thud as the tiffin box slipped of his hand and fell a bit far as it got opened with the sandwich falling out of it...

Eli was completely shocked by the incident as he just kept on laying flat on his chest staring at the falling sandwich on ground which his mother made for him....while the corridor echoed with laughter all around him...

Eli found someone with huge chubby legs standing infront of him as his green eyes travelled upwards to check who it was....

As soon as his eyes met with the huge chubby faced kid , Eli narrowed his eyes at him as the kid opened its big mouth “ Hellooooo....Titan Baby! Whats up ha? Didnt say Hi yet to me??”

Eli sighed heavily as he finally got off from the ground and stood on his feet....ignoring the huge kid infront of him Eli dusts of the dirt from his shirt as he passes by him with his head high....moves ahead to pick up the sandwich and tiffin box.

Watching Eli ignoring him like this surprises the kid, as he immediately kicks away the tiffin box bit far while picking up the sandwich himself.

Eli stares at him shocked as annoyance took over him immediately.

As he turns his hands into fists, Eli hears the kid telling him- Oi, What so hurry? We need to talk....

The huge kid shows the sandwich infront of Eli's face as he speaks sarcastically- Ooowwo Titan Baaby....Are You Hungry ? Want Some?

Eli glares at the kid furiously as he looks upwards at him, while his hands rolled into fists “ Put that sandwich back into my lunch box! “

The kid smirks evilly as he says “ Ah....Ordering me? You stupid little brat! You know what...this sandwich looks yummy and guess what! I want it for myself, you have any problem?”

Eli was completely fuming within himself as he tightens his fists trying to control his rage...while he says in his mind “ Calm down! I should just ignore him....and not react at all! Mom told me these jokers are not worth at all of any kind of reaction! Just calm down”

Eli softens his expression as he says with low but prominent voice “ Listen....kid! Stop these nonsense of yours....it only makes you look like a looser! Give my lunch box with that sandwich into it....I need to hurry okay! I dont have any free time to waste on you “

The kid evilly smiles as he immediately takes bite from sandwich and says while munching “ Yummm....This tastes good! So Titan Boy Your Mom Makes Really Good Stuffs...Ask Her To Make Some More For Me”

Eli was angry now but he needs to control it , without saying a word Eli walks toward his tiffin box and was about to pick it up when that kid stomped his foot over it leading a crack on the box....while Eli gasps in shock hearing the sound of crack...as he glared furiously at that huge kid.

The Kid in disgust “ You....Son Of Monster! ( eating rest of the sandwich) I dont think you need this box anymore as your food is finished and is in my stomach...all you need right now is run off your ass”

Eli green eyes shone brightly as he glared at the kid with rage....Eli's small hands were back to fist but he was trying hard to control his anger...

As the kid went on “ Honestly Why do you even come here? What fun do you get by being insulted everyday ha? Oh wait you actually deserve to get insulted! Thats your birth right “

Hearing this the other kids who were watching this drama for quite some time bursts out laughing....

Eli was damn done with this kid as he clenched his teeth and spoke with sharp dangerous voice “ Shut The Filthy Mouth Of Yours “

The huge kid stopped laughing as he stared at Eli shocked “ O wow! You have guts to talk too...do you even know....”

Eli screams loudly as he interrupts the boy “ SHUT UP DAMN IT “

The kid was shocked now to hear the intensity of Eli's voice....he kept on staring at Eli's rage filled eyes while rest looked at them completely horrified.

Eli while gritting his teeth “ Move your foot away from the box and hand over it to me.... & get lost from my sight! “

The kid was shocked for few moments and then suddenly he started laughing as he says “ Hahaha...What a fire! I mean seriously....no wonder my mom and dad keep on saying that you will be same just like your father when you grow up! A Titan....! “

Before the kid could say anything further....he felt a crushing punch on his chin which felt so hard on him that just made him fall on the ground.

Everyone around them was terrified as they watched Eli swiftly giving a punch on the chin of that chubby kid....

Eli couldn't hold himself back as he barked on the kid who was laying flat on the ground looked at him in shock as blood came out from his teeth “ KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT! DONT WANNA HEAR ANOTHER WORD FROM YOU! AND DONT YOU DARE CALL ME A TITAN...I DONT KNOW WHAT IS IT! BUT ALL I KNOW I DONT LIKE THIS WORD AT ALL....UNDERSTOOD”

Saying this Eli kicked hard at one leg of the kid who winced in pain immediately!

Eli picked up his broken Tiffin box and put it in his bag while he could feel all the kids eyes on him in fear....he could simply care less about it...he was about to leave when he felt a punch on his face which made him fall the ground....in return everyone hooted all around in excitement.

Eli looked upward in anger as he found the chubby kid with blood in his mouth staring at him angrily “ Son of a bitch! Dont you have manners while talking to your seniors! How dare you raise your hand on me....I am gonna make you suspend from this school and throw you and your mom out of this town “

Before he could do anything....Eli all of sudden made a move and punched hard straight on the face of the kid....who immediately pushed with such a force and fell hard against a pillar leading him to immediate unconsciousness!

Everyone gasped in horror at the sight....while Eli who still didn't realise the consequences of his act until someone freaked out frighten “ Guys....Why! Why is he not getting up?”

Eli gasped in shock as he came out of his anger and stared at the fallen chubby cheek at far....who was completely motionless at the moment....

Eli was terrified suddenly....while everyone started gawking at him as few kids ran to call the teacher..

Eli walked towards the kid as he said nervously to the people “ He just got hurt badly I guess...nothing much “

He wasnt having any good vibes from this environment around as he spoke infront of the chubby kid who was still not in his senses “ Hey...Wa...Wake Up! Look...this...isnt time to joke! Get....up dude! Others are misunderstanding me! Hey...”

Suddenly Eli heard a kid coming back with someone while saying “ I dont know Sir....I think he is just unconscious or maybe....the way that titan boy punched him....I dont know maybe....he is in more serious condition “

Eli looked around in horror as he heard some saying what if he is dead....

Eli was completely terrified! He needs to go to his mother. As everyone got indulged in whispering Eli took the chance and immediately ran away from that place in opposite direction through the corridor...

*********

It was raining heavily all around....thunders strike in the sky....

A boy with a back pack over his head sitting on the ground behind a huge garbage bin while trying to hide as much as possible from the people around....

A huge thunder strikes as flash of light fell on his face while making him shiver in fear....his green eyes shone in the light of thunder....

Eli was shivering due to cold as well as fear of darkness & people finding him...

Eli in his broken voice “ Mom Save Me”

Suddenly he felt nervous and guilty as he remembered what just happened back in the school....

He didnt intend to hurt anyone so much that will lead to death....period he didnt even want to kill him or something! Was it his fault completely? Did he do wrong by loosing his self control again!

Infact he was pretty sure that bully boy wasnt dead but unconscious but then why wasnt he moving?

Eli started to weep now as he trembled while it started to rain more....

Suddenly Eli found a huge amount of people with torchlight coming in this way....

He gasped loudly and got up from there...

He could hear the voices more close now “ That BASTARD Child! He must be hiding here somewhere! This time we are gonna kill him , cut into pieces and throw him in fire! He is nothing but just like his father....A Murderer! Who knows...what if he also posses titan power!? And then we will kill his mother that bloody Ackraman!"

Eli blinked his eyes in horror “ Mom? No....I wont let them do anything to my mom...I need to get out from here before they catch me”

Eli quickly got up and started to move upwards slowly as the place where he was hiding was bit sloppy....the place was pretty old and much far from his house....most probably no one really lives in this place...Now...

He was hurriedly walking upwards while glancing backwards time to time wondering if they already spot him or not, suddenly he tripped over a pebble and slipped as he winced in pain while falling...

Eli was terrified as he puts hand on his mouth so that no sound comes out...

But he was already late....as he turns around and find those gang of people were now speeding up their pace towards him as one of them falls the light on his face & shouted “ HEY....THATS HIM....”

Eli was scared as he began to shake again in fear, he quickly got up and started running upwards but he couldn't increase his pace as he was slipping up now and then due to heavy raining and his feet fingers were kind of hurting now....

They were quite close to him...Eli was in panic as he was gasping trying to catch breath while running...

Suddenly he got a pull on his arm....before he could react someone pulled him aside swiftly behind the wall of a house...

It was dark inside...

Eli was highly shocked at the sudden action as he couldnt understand what just happened...those people were close, he could hear them...

But he was still in shock that who just pulled him in...he turned his head around and just when the lightening stroke again revealing the face infront of him....

Eli eyes widen as he was about to say something but before that his mouth was forced to shut by a strong hand as Eli started to fidget under the hold in fear while the graspy deep voice wishpers ”SSSSH....CALM DOWN”

Just then both of them could see bunch of silhouettes near by....as the voice says “ Dont say a word....they are hear...”

Eli was completely in shock stage at the moment and was frozen at the spot while his wide green eyes were on the man infront of him...

They could hear those men saying “ Where did he go? “ “ I Saw him I swear...I guess he escaped from here” “ Lets hurry”

They were there for few more minutes...and then left from there hurriedly....

As both of them could hear their foot steps and voice fading away....Eli finally finds the hand away from his mouth as he says in deep manly voice “ Gone! You can breath now....”

Realising he was actually holding his breath for a while now, Eli finally breaths as he starts coughing slightly to get air...

Just then as the reality strikes....Eli widens his eyes and stares at the person infront of him, while he says “ Ah....So We met again? What a coincidence!”

Just then the thunder strikes again and lightening falls on that long hair person....Eli could see the face more clearly....he was none other than that stranger and the person possibly who was in his dreams...

The difference was there were no bandage on his head nor even that cane in his hand like the last time, though his half of the hair was falling on one of his eyes completely...

Eli finally finds his voice as he says in child like voice while trembling a bit “ You....Again?”

Just then the reply comes “ Oh...You can speak....back then I thought you were mute or something “

P.S So How Was This Chapter? Hope you guys enjoyed. Do comment , like & share.

[frightknights-n-monstergirls]

Jonathan hates it when you call him your Spookshow Baby, but it didn’t bother him as much as it did when you said it in public. Whenever Jonathan escapes Arkham Asylum, he would spend most of his free time, or whatever was left outside his research, at your place whether you allowed it or not. He would help with the cleaning, even though he does a horrible job at where he crashed at, and does occasionally go out to grocery shop with you. This is when Jonathan usually gets the most stress in. He is already taking a risk going out into the public eye with you as it is, but your little nickname would give him away as The Scarecrow.

“What would you like for dinner, Spookshow Baby?”

“Hey, Spookshow Baby, I found those wheat things you like!”

“My poor Spookshow Baby being beaten up by the Batman.”

It was bad enough that Jonathan would get strange looks from people as it is, but with you calling him Spookshow Baby… He just wants to gas bomb the store. Maybe this is the whole ‘In a Relationship’ deal, get to be with a beautiful person who understands him, get fed when he’s in their home, have a warm bed to pass out in, and in return get to call him embarrassing names. Jonathan never thought he would be so lucky as to have you as his significant other, even when you call him Spookshow Baby. He wouldn’t mind you saying that one more time.

Jonathan sits in the REC Room with a book in his hands as Jervis beats Edward at chess for the third time in a row. Jonathan doesn’t really pay attention to Eddie’s assumptions of the small man cheating, or really reading the book in front of him. Instead the thought of you enters the Scarecrow’s mind, what are you doing right now? Do you even know what today is? Today is Jonathan’s birthday and he’s stuck spending it in Arkham with people he would rather not be around on this day. A sad sigh passes through Jonathan’s lips getting his friends’ attentions he would rather be at a Starbucks with you drinking a pumpkin spice latte.  

“Geez, Jon.” Edward starts resting his head on his hand looking at Jonathan, “You look really depressed. Did they get rid of the book you like to read?”

“Up yours, Nigma.” Jonathan grumbles his shoulders hunching up to where they almost touch his ears as a thin blush travels across his cheeks. There was no way in hell that he is going to tell them that it’s his birthday and is missing a certain someone. Edward and Jervis don’t know about Jonathan being in a relationship with you, and would like to keep it that way.

“Now, now, Jonathan.” Jervis lightly scolds resetting the board. He seems more lucid today, yesterday the hatter was in full Wonderland Mode to the point of being sedated for the whole day. Jonathan knows this from how Jervis’s fiery hair is combed back rather than looking like a he had a good romp. “Edward has a point, you look rather sad today, more so on the emotional side than any given day.” That cheeky bastard. “Mind telling us?”

“No.” Jonathan immediately barks out glaring at his companions adjusting his glasses by the nose piece with his index finger. The other two look at each other in a side glance, “I’m telling you two that there is nothing wrong about today!” By God, he will get through today, plan his escape, and be done with these lunatics without anyone knowing about…

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JONNY!” Harley and The Joker scream into both his ears. A painful ringing makes Jonathan’s eyesight go blurry, but it comes back faster than his hearing. He sees Edward’s mouth move and his expression change to glee. Jervis’s overbite is now even more prominent baring a wide grin of his own. As Jonathan regains the concept of sound more inmates crowd his view and muffled 'Happy Birthday’s are becoming more clear. For some odd reason, he is half expecting them to start chanting 'Kali Ma’.

“How old are you turning?”

“We shoulda threatened the cook for a cake!”

Jonathan growls actually baring his pointed canines at the crowd, “How did you even know?”

“We read your file.” The Joker grins like a smug snake that he is. Figures, it would totally be Joker and Harley to break into Arkham’s office and read everyone’s files. Hell, they probably even change the prescriptions on the damn computer just for shits and giggles.

“Alright that’s enough!"The inmates turn to look at the Head of Security, Mr. Cash, and Dr. Jeremiah Arkham not too far behind. Jonathan sees that Arkham is standing with someone, who he can’t tell but has caused a stir if Cash is out of his box. "Crane, you have a visitor.”

Jonathan, as well as the other insane criminals, exchange confused looks. No one has ever come to visit him, on his files it clearly states that he has no known relatives in Gotham, or any that want to acknowledge that he is related to them.  A smile is on Arkham’s face, this usually means that he has something planned that can be 'beneficial’ or he just got another grant for his asylum. Jonathan stands up leaving his book on the chair, giving Edward and Jervis a look. They know what that means, they won’t be able to talk about this without any sort of recreational drug present, luckily Jervis is that guy who knows a guy in their group. Jonathan is about half way there when his jaw drops. There you are with a soft smile on your face and a small cake in your hands. It is covered in the darkest brown frosting, you know him all too well to know that he is a sucker for chocolate.  Nothing could ruin this moment…

“Happy birthday, Spookshow Baby.”

It grew silent, Jonathan could not believe you called him Spookshow Baby in front of everyone. All time seems to stop, he feels all color drain for his face and into the pits of his stomach. Jonathan knows it will be coming, that horrible storm that he never wanted to endure again after highschool. He wants to turn around to his fellow inmates to see their reactions, but he can already picture them. Joker and Edward probably have the same smiles on their faces, a few will think it’s cute that Jonathan is known as Spookshow Baby, and the rest will deem it as sickening sweet. To his horror, the storm hits.

“SPOOKSHOW BABY?!”

“THAT’S SO CUTE!”

“Isn’t that a Rob Zombie song?”

Jonathan’s skin blooms into color once again in an overdose of red. A long bony hand slides under his glasses and covers his eyes and forehead in embarrassment. He would give anything for a gas bomb of his toxin right about now. Cash yanks Jonathan with his hook out of the REC Room closing the laughter off by the closing of the door. You and Arkham stand before him, his gaze is averted to the ground avoiding all eye contact from anyone. You regret calling him by the nickname that you express your love for him. You knew that Jonathan really didn’t like it, but you couldn’t help to make his blush with just a simple word. Now, it will give him nothing but grief as long as he is in the asylum.

Dr. Arkham still has a smile on his face, looking between you and Jonathan, “You can have the interview room.” He informs as the group gets to walking down the hallway, “Normally, I would say that you two will have a limited time.” He gets to the door facing you again, “But take all the time you like.”

“Thank you, Dr. Arkham.” You smile at the good doctor as he allows you to enter the room. Cash pushes Jonathan lightly into the room, his head still downcast. You can’t see his eyes from the combination of his hair and his foggy glasses. He sits down in the chair on one side of the table as the door closes leaving you two alone. You inhale deeply taking the other seat gently placing the cake in the middle of the surface that is between the two of you. “Jonathan, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to say that in front of your friends and I didn’t want you to be alone on your birthday…”

“Y/N,” Jonathan smiles peeking from under his hair, “I’m glad you came.” He reaches over the table to grasp your hand before putting your fingers to his lips. “I haven’t had company on my birthday for many years, dear.” You smile at your love going to cut the cake until he slides it over towards himself, “Oh no, pet, you’re not getting any after that little stunt.”

You laugh then stop once you realize Jonathan is being serious.

[scaryscarecrows]

Before We Arise

It’s dark, too dark to make out anything beyond vague geometric shapes. Bruce-not Batman, his cowl is long gone-squints, and one of the shapes becomes an empty wheelchair. The others remain stubbornly out of focus.

The wheelchair creaks and rolls towards him, misshapen wheels giving it a crippled gait of squeak-thud squeak-thud. It finally stops in front of him, footrests mere inches from his legs. Bruce looks down at it, supposing that he should be more concerned that it came over here on its own. It seems harmless enough, though. A little sad, even.

There’s movement in the shadows and he turns, cape fluttering against the chair, to see…nothing. There’s nothing there at all.

Nothing to be seen, anyway-if he holds his breath and doesn’t move, he can hear soft crying.

“Who’s there?”

The crying stops, suddenly, and a bolt of desperation goes through his chest when Jason whispers, “Bruce?”

God--

“Jason,” he breathes, then, louder, “Jason. Where are you?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know, just please don’t leave me--”

He stalks forward, hearing the squeak-thud of the broken wheelchair as it follows. The darkness seems endless, all-consuming, or maybe he’s not moving.

He breaks into a run.

“I’m not going to leave you, just keep talking and I will find you. Do you hear me?”

“Please don’t leave me,” Jason begs, voice cracking. “He’s gonna kill me, he said so, please don’t leave me here, B--”

Is it just him, or is it getting lighter? He is moving, then, he’ll find Jay and they’ll be out of here in no time--

“Please.” His voice is raw. “He’ll be back any minute, please hurry up.”

It is getting lighter, light enough to see the walls. The passage is narrower than he’d realized, but so, so long.

“I’m almost there,” he says, and who knows if that’s true but dammit, he’ll make it true. “I’m almost there, I’m not going to leave you.”

The light grows, and grows, and finally it’s almost blinding. The walls are stark white, the paint rippling from a poor job done, and the tiles are separated with yellowing grout. The passage itself widens, opens into a small room.

He can see Jason now, dangling from the ceiling by his wrists. Thank God--

SQUEAK-THUD!

He’s yanked to a stop, his cape caught in that damned chair’s wheels. When he tries to drag it along behind him, it doesn’t move, and neither does he.

“Bruce, please!”

The Joker appears-or was he always there?-and grins grotesquely at Bruce. Bruce yanks at the chair, tries to unfasten his cape, and can’t. The clasp’s stuck, the chair’s stuck…

The Joker turns to Jason, holds up a hand. There’s a gun there, a black shadow in the white light. He fiddles with it, seemingly ignoring the rattling of the chair behind him, and levels it.

“No!”

BANG!

Jason jerks, just once, before slackening in the chains. The chair and Joker vanish and Bruce sprints towards him, praying he’s not too late, he can fix this, he can make it right…

“Jason!”

The chains unravel, clink-clink-clink, just as he reaches him. Jason drops to the floor, an unmoving, bloodstained heap, and Bruce gathers him up. Not now, not like this…

“Y-you said you’d always come.” His voice is faint, so faint and accusing, but he’s alive. “You lied.”

“I’m here, everything’s going to be fine.” He struggles up, the boy a dead (no, not dead) weight in his arms.

“M’not.” He coughs, body shuddering. “You let me die.”

“You’re not dead, Jay, just hang on--”

“Told you he’d kill me. Told you to hurry.” Where the hell’s the exit? There’s got to be a way out of here, he got here, didn’t he? “Why didn’t you?”

The weight in his arms melts away, leaving him holding a bloody yellow cape.

“Jason?” He stops dead. “Jason!”

But Jason’s nowhere to be found.

* * *

“Master Bruce!”

Bruce starts awake. Cave. He’s in the cave, and Alfred is here. Things flood back-Scarecrow, new toxin…Jason.

“Please don’t leave me here…”

He sinks back onto the cot, teeth clenched and throat thick. Beside him, Alfred sighs.

“Do you know where you are?”

“Yes.” Forcing speech is difficult. Painful. “Cave.”

“Do you remember what happened?”

“Crane.” Who will pay dearly for this when Bruce catches up with him, make no mistake. “Caught me by surprise.”

“Very good, sir.” Alfred sounds shaken and Bruce begins to suspect that he may have…said things.

He sits up, head swimming, and zeros in on the computer. Crane will have gone to ground for the time being, but Bruce will find him. He always finds him.

The computer hums as he sinks into the chair and closes his eyes. He promptly regrets it when his brain throws up blurry images of Jason’s body lying on the floor.

“Sir, are you sure that is the wisest thing to be doing right now?”

“Mm.” Tap-tap-tap. “I’m fine, Alfred.”

He’ll be better once he tracks Crane down.

THE END

[xx-eatmyheart-xx]

I don't know, I'm just trying cause I've been thinking about starting to write lately.

Joker has been stuck in my mind since I watched it for the first time a week ago (i know, I'm awfully late) and I need to let go a lot of emotions.

I'm completely willing to write ReaderxJoker/Arthur Fleck one-shots on request, so, should I do it?

I'm dropping here the first chapter of a little project i started on Wattpad, just in case 🌸

-----

Let's Watch Them Burn

1 - I Want Him

You actually liked letting your accent slip. People always thought you couldn't fully understand them, that you were just another girl running away from her home, chasing the dream of your childhood and praying America to help you realize it. You also liked how they totally believed their assumptions as soon as you just smiled at them, without really trying to converse for a couple of minutes.

You just really liked seeing their true colors.

"Good morning!"

Your voice was sweet, but the accent obvious. As the men in front of you stared at you and your cupcakes tray, the taller one smiled at your pronunciation in a way you didn't really like.

Another thing that really put you in a good mood, though, was getting to know the people that you would get to work with, so you could let that go for now. Cupcakes are always welcomed, so what better way than offering some at your future personal clown for one day?

Smiling, you put the colorful tray on the only table in the room and spinned around to look at the half painted faces that were staring at you.

Confusion was clear in their eyes, but you just kept on smiling and extended a hand to the confectionery, motioning for them to take one.

"Maybe they're from Hoyt?"

A surprised voice spoke after a couple of minutes of complete silence. The man was the one that was smiling at your accent, and when you nod your head he went straight for a red velvet cupcake.

"Man finally did something nice after all the shit we go trough. He even had hotstuff delivering them"

He was tall, going bald and surely didn't care for his colleagues to join him before stuffing his mouth with the red dessert, which almost matched his clown nose and his pants.

"Randall, s-she's here! You can't call her that..."

Uncertainty stained an awfully sweet voice from behind the tall man as a skinny figure took a step toward him, it looked like he wanted to stand for you, but was too scared to say something more than that. He was clearly uncomfortable with the pet name but couldn't bring himself to put the blading man in his place. Instead he looked at you, pleading forgiveness for something he didn't even do, with a pair of beautiful ocen eyes.

"Yeah Randall, it's not okay man"

A shorter man added from your left, while holding his cabinet door opened, almost as he had frozen on the spot.

"Oh c'mon, she can't even understand me, look at that dumb expression, she has no idea what we're talking about"

His word were muffled by the nearly entirely eaten cupcake, but they were right: you had just kept on smiling, without even blinking at the name.

Though you fully understood everything they said, you just couldn't bring yourself to put an end to your act.

That, that was the kind of person that amused you the most, the "I'm so smart I immediately get that you're an immigrate and I couldn't care less cause you can't understand shit" type of guy.

The apparently fragile man that kind of stood for you, though, caught your attention in a different way. He looked like he was surprised at his own words and was secretly proud of his reaction. And when his colleague agreed with him? Oh, pure joy.

You had never seen something so pure.

It was like looking at a happy child after being praised.

Yet, the sadness in his eyes swept that moment away quickly, as if he suddenly remembered that this world doesn't really care about him or his words.

For a moment you thought he was about to say something else, but as soon as you smiled at him, his shy blue eyes sprung to the ground and locked themselves into the cold floor.

"Oh y/n! I thought you haven't arrived yet, I was waiting for you in my office!"

A third voice joined your little sad scene. Since none of the other clowns has spoken, it was just natural for all of you to turn toward the room's door. There was standing Hoyt, the men's agent, the one you talked to just the day before. He had said that his company was the best in town and that his clowns were all kind and pros in their job, that you would have to take a couple of days to chose the right one for you cause they were all good and it would be diffucilt for you to pick just one out.

When Mr. Vaughn had entered the room, silence filled the walls once again and confusion clenched anyone's throat.

Well, everyone except you.

You just smiled and answered the man now standing beside you with a huge grin on his face, amused.

"Good morning Hyot, I wanted to make them a little surprise, so I went ahead and brought cupcakes. You want one?"

At you perfectly spoken sentence, every single person in that room froze.

And Randall, oh Randall, you could clearly hear him crying in his head and cursing for his stupidity.

But the man with curled hair, he was suddenly smiling.

"Sure, I love your cupcakes!"

As fast as he could, Hoyt grabbed a random dessert and took a bite out of it. He turned around to face his clowns, smiling through a filled mouth.

"Guys, this lovely lady right here is Miss y/n l/n, our new client! She insisted on meeting you in person and personally pick one of you for her grand opening down the street!"

Silence.

Again.

He was speaking in a light tone, money made everyone happy in that city. You, on the other hand, couldn't care less.

After all, if you did, you wouldn't have run away from you homeland.

Right?

"Okay, let's get started."

Your mind couldn't exactly understand why your eyes couldn't leave the pale figure of the man that was still staring at the floor, but the presentment that he wasn't like anyone else in that damned city was clear and loud in your heart.

You could feel his discomfort, you could hear the war in his head, his uncertain eyes that were fighting to keep themselves right there, staring at the ground.

He wanted to look at you.

So bad.

But how could someone like him deserve to look at someone like you?

You were just stunning, just...

"Randall is great with children and then ther-"

Interrupting people wasn't really your thing, but in that moment it seriously didn't matter.

Your hand moved almost on its own and brought a thin finger toward the unknown gentle soul.

"I want him"