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okaybutlikeimagine · 4 years

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Harringrove for Australia: Ihni♥

hi there!! the gorgeous and fabulous and fantastic @ihni asked me to write this for #HarringroveforAustralia! and here it is!! ♥

prompt: someone wants to get back at Billy so they do something Very Stupid that leads to Billy getting hurt; guilt and hurt/comfort ensues!

tags: mentions of abuse, bruising, implied (light) blood, past child abuse, hurt/comfort, angst, hopeful ending (♥!)

You can catch it on AO3 here if you so desire!

Word Count: 4,452 (i’m legit the worst i’m so sorry i went over my word limit!)

thank you babe and thanks again @tracy7307 for putting the whole thing together!

(kay time to finish and essay, bye, love you)

---

~On Your Best Behavior~

Steve may not be the smartest kid in school. He’s right at average in even his favorite classes, and, truth be told… there’s not a lot of those. He likes to think he has street smarts, but Tommy always has to show him up; has to remind him what position his “rich boy privilege” has left him in. It’s gotten to the point where he feels like there’s nothing special about his own knowledge. He doesn’t know about history, or grammar, or even music, or movies… some days it feels like he doesn’t know anything. Like everyone’s right when they say his head is just there to carry his hair around.

But if there's one thing he knows… one thing he’s absolutely sure of… it’s that Billy Hargrove is the biggest asshole in all of Indiana. And Steve has met Mayor Kline.

But Billy takes it all. He’s the culmination of every jackass in the state, all rolled up into this punk who can’t seem to keep his fucking shirt on. He saunters around like he owns the place, shoving into Steve in the hallways and wagging his tongue like it’s some kind of… threat or something, Steve isn’t sure.

He just blew into town like a wild thunderstorm a little over 2 months ago and already he’s given everyone grief- at least, everyone Steve knows. He cheats on every girl he’s out with (if the girls of Hawkins are to be believed), he’s in detention every day for mouthing off to teachers, he stole Steve’s friends which… yeah he’s having a hard time reconciling that one because if they left that quickly maybe they weren’t too good of friends but still.

And worst of all, what absolutely takes the cake in the Shit-Show that is Billy Hargrove and his bullying….

He picks on the kids.

He picks on Steve’s kids. He scares Max, he bullied Lucas, he nearly killed all of them with his little stunt with the car that first week he was here. He splashed them with rain water once as he drove past them, he kicked over Dustin’s bike when he was standing outside of the arcade, he dropped Max’s backpack in the mud the other day. Hell, one time they were all bouncing a basketball around and Mike missed it and it accidentally rolled over to Billy (who was leaning against a wall smoking a cigarette) who took out a pocket knife and stabbed it, letting all the air out before tossing it back and walking away.

He’s a jerk. An outright punk. And yeah, maybe the stuff he’s done isn’t criminal. Maybe most of it at this point is just kind of bratty and petty. Maybe Max explained away the Lucas thing pretty definitively (with a lot of “He didn’t mean it that way”s and “You don’t understand the whole situation”s and “He hates all boys who look at me”s and one quiet “It’s his dad who’s the strict one…”), but… but still. It doesn’t matter, he’s still an asshole and people shouldn’t just be able to get away with being an asshole like that.

Yeah, sure, Steve himself was kind of an asshole for a little bit. Yeah, sure, Steve got let off the hook a lot of times for doing some of the same things Billy has done. But Steve had reasons. Plus he was young when that stuff happened. He doesn’t do that anymore.

Either way, it shouldn’t really matter why Billy’s doing it or not. They’re horrible things to do and Billy needs to stop.

Which all leads up to right now, which finds Steve in a diner with Dustin, Lucas, and Mike (because Will and Max had a project they had to stay behind and work on). They’re on the heated topic of Billy because apparently the older boy popped the tires on Dustin’s bike.)

“He’s such an asshole.” Dustin lisps into his soda (that Steve was very reluctant to give the boy, but he pouted about his bike enough that Steve gave in.

Mike nods, mumbling angrily into his french fries while Lucas, across from Mike, rolls his eyes.

“We need to do something about him.” Dustin says again, before getting that sly little grin on his face that lets Steve know he’s hatching a plan.

And if Steve’s honest, it’s a very very childish plan. Mike is even adamant that it’s childish, claiming they could come up with something better before switching his tune with very little convincing, citing Billy as a child. So it really is childish. And Steve knows that because someone did this to him once back in the 5th grade. It pissed him off to no end which, honestly, is the only reason Steve begins to consider it. It’s not like any real harm can come of it, it’ll probably just be more annoying than anything which is honestly what Steve wants.

He mulls over it for a second before deciding: “Yeah. Sure. Fuck that guy… tomorrow. I’ll do it tomorrow.”

Dustin and Mike laugh triumphantly with each other.

Lucas has become stunningly quiet as he takes a big sip of his water.

----

When Steve rings the doorbell around 5:30 pm when he’s sure his intended target will be home, the sound comes out as a far more pleasant chime than he was expecting. He doesn’t come to this side of town very often, even though Tommy used to live on this street back when they were kids. It’s not bad, but Steve definitely notices the dying grass, the empty front yard, the worse-for-wear sidewalk…

He waits patiently, mentally preparing what he’s going to say, while hearing heavy footsteps approach the door in a way that Steve can only describe as menacing.

The door swings open, and there before him, in all his 6’ glory, is Billy’s dad. Mr. Hargrove.

He’s only an inch taller than Steve and yet he carries himself like he’s got a foot over him.

“Can I help you?”

Steve clears his throat. The house is deafeningly quiet, even from the fully opened doorway. It confuses Steve for a second, because any time he drops Max off home and Billy is there, the house is raging with music. And Steve knows Billy is here now, if the arrogant blue Camaro is anything to go by.

“Hello! Mr. Hargrove, right?” Steve offers his hand up, putting on his best ‘good rich boy’ voice that he saves specifically for meeting friends of his parents. “Steve Harrington.”

“Harrington.” Mr. Hargrove says with some kind of bitter admiration in his voice. “I’ve heard about your parents.”

Steve isn’t surprised. Neil takes his hand firmly. It feels like a power move, how hard the man grips, but Steve does his best to rival the strength. He needs to be as credible as possible here.

Steve just isn’t quite sure what to say about his parents. He opts for a charming smile that doesn’t quite disarm Mr. Hargrove like he was hoping.

“So,” Mr. Hargrove begins, letting go of Steve’s now sore hand. “What brings you here?”

“Oh, well Mr. Hargrove-”

“Go ahead and call me Neil, son.” The man says in a way that feels more intimidating than he thinks it should. Steve hears a door close rather harshly from inside the house. Mr. Hargro- Neil grimaces at it for a split second.

“Okay uh… Neil. I just wanted to talk to you about your son. Your son is Billy Hargrove, correct?”

“That’s correct.” Neil’s face stays as stoic as before.

“Well I’m not sure if you’re aware of this, but I felt someone should bring it up with you. Your son has been a… a… menace. To a lot of people at school.”

Steve worked through so many words in his head and menace is what tumbles out of his dumb, nervous brain. It’s like he’s holding cotton in his mouth, he feels so stupid.

It does the job though. If human eyes could turn red, Neil’s eyes would be like a firetruck. Or maybe the fire itself.

“He has, huh?”

“Yes, sir.” Steve hates saying sir. Feels he needs to, here. “And outside of school as well. To a lot of little kids and… and even to your younger daughter.”

Steve knows Max isn’t his biological daughter. At least, he’s pretty sure. Pretty sure the dad is Billy’s and the mom is Max’s. But it slips out before he can stop it. More cotton balls falling from his mouth. Still, it’s working as he meant it to.

Right? This is what I’m trying to do?

Because suddenly, seeing the tension in this man’s jaw and the fire in his eyes, Steve’s not quite so sure he wants to be here anymore.

“Oh really? And have your parents witnessed this?”

Steve blinks. He doesn’t really understand the question.

“Uh… excuse me, sir, my parents?” Steve starts to pick at the side hem of his jeans.

“Yes.” Neil’s teeth are clenched. Steve fights not to take a step back. “Your parents. Do they notice too?”

Steve really has to wrap his mind around the question before he can come up with an appropriate answer. This man has heard of his parents, probably because people gossip. If people are gossiping, it’s probably about their money. It’s always about their money. Their influence even though, if anyone were to ask Steve, they don’t really have any. They’re never around to influence the town like everyone seems to swear they do. They just have money, and apparently money talks. As far as Steve is concerned, it’s more of a whisper, but he knows not everyone feels the same way. He knows someone who lives in a house like this, with untended gardens and unpaved walkways, probably doesn’t feel the same way.

He thinks he has an answer now.

“Yes, they have noticed. They think it’s a little… embarrassing.”

Neil looks like he’s going to growl. Steve takes that step back now, even though he doesn’t think about it.

“That’s very interesting.” Neil really might as well be snarling at this point. “Well, thank you for telling me, son. I’ll definitely have a chat with William.”

Steve nods his head and before he can think about it or even say a word, the door is in his face and the man is gone, the only thing left behind being the sound of heavy footsteps.

Steve feels like he’s in a bit of a daze as he walks back to his car, but not before tripping over the crack in the poorly paved walkway. And Steve may not be the smartest kid in school, may not be the smartest kid in Hawkins at this moment, but if there’s one thing he does know, it’s that Billy is getting grounded right now.

He’d call this a success.

---

Billy isn’t at school the next day.

Steve tries to pretend like he’s not nervous about it.

And really, he isn’t all that nervous. Sure, it’s in the back of his mind for most of the day, but he’s not exactly nervous. He's not even sure what he would be nervous about.

It’s not until he sees Max yelling at Dustin and smacking him upside the head that he gets a little nervous.

It’s not like it has to be a particularly special occasion for Max to do something like that to Dustin, but still. There’s something in Steve’s gut that tells him he’s involved in this. If Max’s angry eyes that turn on him are anything to go by, he’s right in his assumption.

“Did you come to my house last night?” She asks like she knows. It’s hardly a question.

“Yes.” Steve shoves his hands in his pockets to keep them from lifting in the air in submission.

“You idiots! What were you thinking?” Max yells, smacking Dustin then Mike then Lucas, who whines that he didn’t want it to happen. She then turns to Steve, punching his arm harshly.

“Woah woah woah, what did we do?” Steve asks like he doesn’t know.

“Like you don’t know, you moron! You- you! Did you talk to Neil?”

Steve is so taken aback that he just nods. Max growls.

“You moron! Never come to my house again!” Max’s face is red with anger, absolutely fuming as Dustin and Mike and Lucas sputter all at once in a vain attempt to make things right. But Max isn’t listening, she’s laying her board on the ground, about to skate away.

“Wha-? Max, what’s wrong? We were just-”

“I don’t care what you were trying to do!”

“Your brother is an asshole! You say so all the time!” Dustin yells in a desperate type of defense. Max’s eyes look far more hurt now than anything else, even as she’s still glaring daggers.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” She says and there’s a lot less malice in her voice now. Her shoulders are slumped as she starts to skate away.

Steve can’t take it.

“Max.” It’s in vain. He tries harder. ”Max! Where’s your brother?”

“Stay away from him.” Max calls back, pushing off to skate faster.

The boys all look to Steve, who knows in an instant.

---

At least, he hopes he does. It’s not until he’s about a mile out from the quarry that he starts to have second thoughts about if his gut was right.

He’s driving slowly, mind reeling, heart pumping blood so loudly through his ears that he can’t hear his music, when he sees a figure he wasn’t expecting to see.

Hop?

It is. It’s Hop. Standing above a hunched over boy that Steve is praying is the boy he’s been looking for. He knows it is- no one else has that haircut in Hawkins.

Steve steps out of his car gingerly, does his best to avoid twigs and leaves on the ground as he walks up to the pair to listen in on what they’re saying.

Hop’s face is serious, with a tone to match.

“Look, like it or not you’re still a minor. If you keep not showing up for school your parents are gonna get in big trouble.”

“Promise?” Billy’s voice is weak.

“Har har. Get to class tomorrow.” Hop says, entirely unimpressed. A few seconds go by, the white noise of Indiana bugs fill in the silence between them in the strangest way Steve has ever experienced. Suddenly the air is different. It shifts in a very personal way. Steve immediately picks up on the fact that he shouldn’t be here, right before Hop begins again with:

“… You... know, right? If you need someone to drive you I can-”

It’s soft and sincere and Hop’s hand is reaching out towards Billy’s shoulder gingerly, like he’s going to pet a strange animal, when he catches something in the corner of his eye- and that something is Steve.

Hop clears his throat, and Billy looks over to Hop at the sound.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to find someone.” Hop says, voice void of emotion. Billy turns his head just enough to see Steve out of the corner of his eye before he whips back around. “Stay outta trouble, kid.”

And with that, Hop gives what looks like a sad smile in Billy’s direction before leaving. He gives an odd nod of acknowledgement to Steve as he passes, his face looking rougher than usual. More tired.

Steve takes a couple of steps forward, suddenly finding himself in the position of approaching a strange animal. This “strange animal” that he’s seen almost every day for the past couple of months.

Billy’s still sat on the ground, his legs in a folded up form of criss cross that allow his elbows to hook around his knees. Steve thinks he looks rather small like this. He hasn’t moved to look up at Steve at all. Steve isn’t even sure if the boy looked at Hop when he was here.

“Hey…” He starts, hoping it’ll get the boy’s attention. It doesn’t. “Uh, Billy?”

He’s met with the white noise of the screeching bugs. They stand there until Steve can’t take it, which is only about 3 seconds tops.

“Billy?”

Again, nothing. Billy doesn’t even move-doesn’t even flinch.

“Hargrove.” Steve is stern with it this time.

Steve’s getting impatient, but Billy’s a rock. Steve shifts to sit in his hip.

“Hey, asshole!” He calls a little louder than he needs to when he’s a few feet away. The response is rather instant this time.

“You called?” Billy’s voice drawls and it gets under Steve’s skin like nothing else.

“God you’re annoying…“ Steve groans, exhaustion visible in his face and audible in his voice. He rubs a hand down his cheek as his heart races with the words building up in his mouth. The cotton balls are back. “Hey uh… Why weren’t you at school today?”

He doesn’t know what to expect, but the unattractive snort definitely isn’t surprising.

“Ha…” Billy’s laugh comes out more like a puff of air. “Got some new accessories that I don’t think fit the dress code.”

Billy’s looking at the ground when he says it and Steve almost doesn’t hear. Certainly doesn’t understand.

“What? What are you talking about?”

Billy’s shoulders shake and it takes a few seconds of debating if Billy needs a comforting hand or something to realize he’s chuckling and not crying. The boy shakes his head, curly mullet bouncing in a way that’s far too light for how Steve feels right now.

“Why do you care, huh Harrington? Miss me that much?” Billy looks to his feet now. Steve sees the hint of a smirk on his lips, past his curls. “Can’t handle a day without me?”

“Shut up, it’s not like that-”

“You came all the way out here to look for me.”

Steve pauses.

“I was heading here anyway.” He lies. Billy snorts like he knows it’s a lie. Because he does know.

“Right. It’s fine to miss me, babe.”

Steve’s face burns.

“Don’t call me that.” He hisses, blood boiling where it’s pumping fast through his body. Billy cackles for good measure.

Steve’s got half a mind to turn around. Damn this guy, whatever he got, he fucking deserved it. He’s an asshole. Whatever happened should have happened.

But…

But Max. The image of her red face and tired eyes flashes into Steve’s memory. She was livid. Screaming. Close to crying.

You don’t know what you’re talking about.

Steve didn’t like that. Because how is he supposed to know if no one says anything? How is he supposed to understand if no one tells him?

He sighs.

“Look Hargrove I… I’m sorry. Okay?”

He feels defensive. Billy almost looks at him, but looks at Steve’s shoes instead. Steve still can’t see his face from the shadows of the trees and curls.

“Sorry for what?”

“I… I-” Steve stammers because he didn’t expect a question.

“Use your words, princess.” Billy says on a snort and Steve breaks.

“I don’t know! Okay? I don’t know. It’s just… Max was upset this afternoon and said something about your… your dad, I guess and now I… she made me feel awful and I don’t even know why but I do know I’m sorry, alright? So can you just quit being an asshole and accept my apology and-”

Steve’s eyes wander back to the boy at his feet. Billy’s shoulders are tense. Up by his ears, muscles taut all down his back, absolutely strung out.

“What do you know about my dad?” His voice is dark now. Dangerous. There’s a growl in it. A familiar one.

Steve fights his step back.

“I just… Not a lot. I just met him-”

“Shit.” Billy whispers, loud enough for Steve to hear. His shoulders are shaking- like a leaf in the fall wind and suddenly Steve feels that concern again.

Billy throws his head back, eyes closed and grimace on his lips as he shakes his head in what looks like disbelief, hair falling down behind him as the sun catches him and makes his face light up in a way that's near blinding and Steve knows this is a serious situation and thus is definitely not thinking about how the late evening sun does Billy and his gorgeous skin every favor.

“Shoulda known. The rich and famous Harringtons.”

Steve rolls his eyes at the statement.

“We’re not famous. We’re not even that rich, I-”

And that’s when Billy finally turns his head to Steve. Finally lets Steve see what he’s been wanting to see- that stupidly smug face with that stupidly cocky grin, telling Steve everything is fine and-

And-

“Holy shit… Billy, what happened?”

Billy’s face is more purple than it is tan. The skin around both eyes is bruised, his left worse than his right. There’s a bit of red on his cheek and his lower lip is split. The side of his neck has a few bruises as well, and Steve knows just from looking at them that they weren’t done out of passion- not romantic passion at least. No, rather a far more malevolent passion.

And now Steve notices the way Billy is moving. Gingerly and slow, like everything aches. It probably does.

Good lord…

“Billy?”

Billy’s looking up at Steve with the saddest eyes and it hits Steve like a freight train. There’s no anger to be found in them. Any fire that was there is there for a split second before they just turn tired. Bloodshot and worn and tired. His lips curl up into a grin that carries poison in it.

“I ran into a wall. Fell down the stairs.” Billy says, in a voice that tries so hard to be innocent that it’s haunting. “I’m a real clumsy kid.”

Billy’s voice wavers at that last part and it strikes Steve like a knife to his chest. Because he doesn’t want to say it, doesn’t even want to think it… but he thinks he knows. This happened to him once. Those words sound familiar and they link back to when Steve was 13- the first and last time his father ever backhanded him- and Steve could see the fear in both of his parents faces as they implored him to tell everyone he just fell down the stairs.

Steve doesn’t know what to say. What to do with his hands. Just looks into Billy’s eyes until he can’t anymore. Until he’s fidgeting and his mind is racing and his heart is threatening to rip a hole in his chest and-

“Can you do me a favor?” Billy asks, voice quieter than Steve’s ever heard him.

“Uhm…” Steve has to bite his tongue before he starts babbling.

“Real simple favor.” Billy turns his eyes to his own shoes. “Never come by my house again. Alright?”

Steve’s heart drops. He sees Billy heave a heavy sigh after he says those words.

“Wha-?”

“God, Harrington.” Billy’s exasperated. Tilts his head back and this time the light catches all of that purple on his face. It’s a universe of the most confusing pain Steve’s ever felt and he feels stupid even thinking that. “Can you hear me or do you have too much dried hairspray caked in your ears? I need you to listen.”

“I’m listening.” Steve’s voice is near a whisper. He can’t take his eyes off the bruising.

“Good. Don’t come by my house. Ever again.”

Steve feels a lump in his throat. Billy turns blue, expectant eyes on Steve, who just nods in what feels like shame. The most hideous and painful shame.

“Yeah… yeah okay I uh… fuck Billy. Shit, I’m so sorry-”

“Save it.” Billy stretches his legs out in front of him, head tilting back, face catching the sun.

“I’m serious I-”

“I said save it.” Billy screws his eyes shut. “I don’t wanna hear about it, alright?”

Steve nods, heat prickling the back of his eyelids.

Billy sighs.

“I’ll be back in school by Monday. I’ll be sure to be a real asshole. Make up for lost time.”

Billy’s acting like this is normal. Like this isn’t major. Like Steve didn’t just discover something he’s sure in a million years he wasn’t supposed to see.

The curly haired boy looks up with tired blue eyes and Steve can’t do anything. All he can do is watch this boy ache when he moves and it makes Steve livid. Saddened. Frightened.

“Billy… I don’t know who’s doing this-” A lie. He’s pretty sure. He has a good inkling, at least. He saw that man. “But they shouldn’t be. You don’t deserve it.”

And now all Steve can think about is how he didn’t believe that statement not 20 minutes ago. Any action Billy made always left Steve begging for a comeuppance. The boy’s an asshole, sure, but… no one deserves this.

Steve is boiling over it. Boiling in a cold sweat because it took this- this horrific moment of realization to realize the boy’s just a kid. Like him and Tommy and Jonathan. Just a stupid 17 year old who does some bratty things.

Billy looks up at Steve and chuckles in tired disbelief.

“You don’t deserve it.” Steve implores, made desperate by the disbelief he sees in Billy.

Billy just looks up at him, looking utterly hopeless, utterly defeated.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Neither can take their eye off the other, and Steve’s sure it’s for different reasons, but his mind is racing, rushing, flooding with his own- with his own concern for the exhaustion that he sees, with his fear of how long this has gone on, with his (truthfully, surprising) anger towards the fact that this boy’s beauty has been bruised and bloodied and that’s a new revelation… beauty…

Billy looks away first. He tells Steve to go. Raises his voice a bit when Steve takes a step in the wrong direction and moves to sit with him. Insists he’ll see Steve at school and it’s all a blur as Steve’s voice doesn’t allow him to say anything.

And in a few minutes of his rushing blood deafening him, he’s back in his car and Everybody Wants to Rule the World comes to life through the speakers as he drives away from this boy that he didn’t know he cared this much about until… until maybe too late.

And Steve’s blood is rushing, boiling inside of him until... until a near calm smile rests on his lips. A small, hopeful smile.

Because Billy promised to talk to him Monday. To keep their dynamic going.

Maybe the ball is back in Steve’s court. And if it is, he’s definitely running with it.

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mackermocally · 4 years

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once more.

#Kingguy #posted to wrong blog woops #<- thats my old tag! ive done it again #swordguy

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o1leander · 4 years

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Thanks for the tag @memollyevelyn

Top three ships:

Logicality (or Analogical, I’m torn) from Sander Sides, Sebastian x Player from Stardew Valley, and Rey x Kylo Ren (so many feelings 😫)

Book(s) I’m currently reading:

Supposed to be reading The Scarlet Pimpernel, but I’m not because fuck summer school. I am reading a compilation book of a bunch of Greek plays (Medea, Hecabe, Electra, Heracles).

Food I’m craving:

Chocolate and Advil

Tag list: @flusteredpolecat @valucinations @harry-leroy @shakespearesmashbros

#tag thing #woops i put this on the wrong blog first sorry guys #sorry for the extra ding

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dailyadventureprompts · 2 years

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I don’t know if you do general advise but I’m going to DM for the first time soon and all I’ve come up with is stuff that sounds cool to have in the world (like an all bard pirate ship/traveling theater) and fun ways to introduce characters (like opening on a rogue in a crowd of distracted strangers). I feel like I have all vibes and no hooks or defined problems that need solving. Do I need to plan that before our first session?

Drafting the Adventure: The Very First Step

I ABSOLUTELY do general advice friend, and you can find most of it under either my "Drafting an Adventure" or "Dm Advice" tags.

But for your particular case, I first off want to congratulate you. Making the step to DMing is a big one, the jump from audience to artist can be one of the most harrowing, but also the most rewarding.

Now, as for your problem of "vibes and no hooks", I'm almost universally sure that every dm starts out with that feeling, and it comes from not yet having started to build your skills as a storyteller.

Like any other skill, being a good DM takes time, it takes practice, and it takes failure. Quite a lot of failure actually, it's going to take time for you to find exactly what feels right and until then it's going to be a process of trial and error. If something feels wrong, that's good, it means you've identified a problem and can start trying out different solutions until you find one that works for you.

Specifically, what you need is to start with some very basic stories of heroic daring-do, run your players through it, and start building out from there. Eventually you'll hit a wall, and you'll know what you can improve on next. Those flashes of inspiration you have? you'll learn when to include those and when to hold them back. After you practice for a while, you'll even be able to turn a random flash into a whole adventure (which is exactly what this blog is all about).

As for picking that very first adventure, I'm going to show you the basics under the cut, a skeleton you can make your own and reuse as many times as you need as you work on your skills.

Building the skeleton for an adventure is actually pretty simple, and building a campaign just involves stringing together multiple adventures.

There's four simple questions to ask, which might seem like they come out of order from a chronological perspective but are important to pin down when it comes to planning out a story:

What fun activity do you want to be the capstone of this adventure. A Dungeon delve? A Monster fight? a Heist? Knowing what the set piece is at the very start of your planning helps you build an adventure that naturally leads to a satisfying conclusion like a river flowing down hill into a lake. Likewise, being aware of what’s coming helps you keep the party on task at the table, directing the focus back to the action that’ll lead them towards your finale.

Are there a challenges they need to overcome before they get to the capstone? More often than not, the party will set out thinking they’re on a rather straightforward errand, allowing you to play with their expectations while sprinkling in hints about what’s about to happen in the story. Hired by a mining concern to escort a geologist deep into some local caves? Woops, there’s a dragon down there, and now its rampaging across the countryside. Chasing a notorious highwayman through the forest for the bounty on his head? Turns out he’s a vampire ousted from his castle, and going toe to toe with him will either require you to find silver weapons or track him back to his coffin during the day. This structure of “ You thought you were doing X, but now you need to do Y” is one of the great pillars of adventure design, and to master it, you just need to get good at letting your party think X was going to be easy, and then making Y a curveball compared to whatever they were previously doing.

How does your party get involved in this adventure, What’s the hook? Does a wealthy patron pay them to perform a task? does an ally ask for aid? Do they see a bounty on a bountyboard? maybe overhear a rumor in the market or a snippet of a bard’s song at the tavern? While eventually you’ll learn to be devilishly subtle about these sorts of hooks, at the start of your carrier, you can be up front with your players: They’re playing adventurers who are motivated by some combination of self interest and heroic action, here’s something that blatantly appeals to them. You don’t even need to roleplay this out in the first couple of adventures, and can easily start off with saying something like “ You’ve found a dusty map that promises to lead to treasure, you’ve gathered some allies, and decided to set out.” Knowing how the adventure starts gives both you and your players a trajectory to follow, before you hit them with that mid act twist.

If they fail either the challenges, or the capstone, then what happens? This is the step most adventure design guides fail to tell you. D&D is a game of choices and chances, which means there’s a possibility that your party won’t manage to accomplish the goal they set out on, whether because of their own folly, or sheer dumb luck. Never fret, because just like learning to be a dungeonmaster, all good stories are built off a basis of failure, and having your party pick themselves back up after a setback or two will only serve to have them more invested. Failure is its own hook, and can serve as even an alternative challenge in that the party was trying to do X, failed at Y, and how HAS to do Z. It can also mean the launch of a whole new adventure, if the party is suddenly outlawed, locked in prison, teleported to another plane, or indebted to some powerful NPC, their primary goal is either on pause, or going to have some very specific consequences afterwards.

So that’s it, that’s what you need to know to start planning a basic adventure. In the runup to your first session zero start brainstorming some ideas, browse through the monster manual, or binge some vaguely fantasy based media whether it be a book, movie, or tv show and lift some plot ideas from it. Run through those questions, and you’ll have an idea of where to start off.

That said, one adventure does not a campaign make, and it’s paradoxically easier to build your adventures in an arc than it is to make them individually, one after another. To that end, we’re going to plan levels 1-5 of your game like it was a single adventure, answering those same four questions, and working through them as we start our brainstorming. Think of a big exciting capstone, throw in a few hurdles they’ll need to overcome, figure out how they get involved, and what happens if things go very very wrong. Some people would have the tail end of one adventure lead directly into the start of another, but that doesn't’ allow for much flexibility,

level 1: is a pilot episode, self contained, lets you establish the world without bringing in any of the big plot just yet. Lets your players get to know the game and figure things out before throwing them into deep water.

level 2: gets your players where you need them to be to get them setup up for the main plot, traveling to the central town, hired by the important patron, introduced to one of the story relevant NPCs, atleast by reputation. As an added tip, if they don’t bite the hook you’ve dangled for this adventure, let them putter around the world for a bit until they find something that DOES excite them, then reel them in that way and resume your story as needed ( adjusting levels accordingly)

level 3: is where you get them invested in the setting, form those emotional bonds that you’re going to imperil at the climax of the arc, both between the partymembers, and between the gaggle of friends and neighbors they’ll have accrued by now. This is also a great chance to foreshadow the big event that’ll hit at the end of the arc, without making them directly relevant.

level 4: is a bit of a distraction, and a great excuse to follow up on a piece of one of your partymember’s backstories. Alternatively, ask the group what they’d like to do, you’ve probably got them invested in the world by now and dangled a few loose threads for them to pull.

level 5: now you get to hit them with something big, an active threat against the bonds they’ve formed that’ll have them pulling out all the stops in an attempt to save the day. Bonus points if you specifically tie the means of overcoming this threat back into the previous adventures, letting your party feel like their heroics set the stage for their victory, and rewarding their investment in the world.

You don’t need to have all this planned out before you start, but at the same time it’s a good idea to know generally where you’re going so you can steer the party in the right direction. This roadmap’s got a lot of wiggleroom, and never be afraid of taking a detour should your party require it.

As for the setting for all these adventures, I’m likely going to cover cover how to build them in a later post, but my advice for now when ploltting all this is to start small: a town, maybe one or two villages, and the surrounding wilderness. The background detail you’ve thought of for one adventure is going to compound into the worldbuilding for the others, and anything else you can make up on the spot.

I hope that helps. It took me a long time to develop anything resembling a cohesive story structure for adventures, and I cant tell you how many years I had my party wandering from session to session waiting for the fun to kick in. At least this way you’ll have something substantial to go off of, and if anything doesn’t work, you’ve got plenty of room to improve.

#prompt postage #story prompt #DM advice #dm tips #drafting an adventure #low level #Press Start #writing #writing advice #D&D #D&D adventure #Homebrew Adventure #Adventure #DnD #dm starterpack

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soduhpops · 7 years

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#not gonna tag it as anything specific but #im glad that bts is doing so well!!!!#theyre making history and they look like theyre having so much fun and i support them fully #but #im kinda sad lol??#i dont want them to get too big because im jealous???#but i dont this with all my music #i just want them to have fun and achive their dreams #i hope everything will turn out ok!!!!#theyve come such a long way and deserve all tje recognition they get!#bts fighting!!!!#bts #woop put it on thw wrong blog

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lucielliadraws · 7 years

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Recent sketch commissions over on FA.

Heavenlycondemned’s peryton Hush enjoying the nice summer shade, and a 4 panel sketch comic for Pyrewerepyre of their demon pup Eldanoth being all pr-…. professional? gulp…

#art commissions #sketches #peryton #beach #demon wolf #demon boy #nap #summer #contract #horror?#idk what to tag this or if i need to take this anything specific?#it's kinda light on the horro aspect #also WOOPS WRONG BLOG HAHAHA

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3monthsineurope · 3 years

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September 13, 2021

Monday was an earlier day. Haley and I got up around 7:30 and she did a little packing. We went over to Mom and Dad’s room around 8 and then all walked to breakfast. It was another hot day! For breakfast I had some French toast, cereal, and hash browns. Of course we all had coffee and water, and Mom had an omelette. We didn’t spend much time at breakfast, because we were getting picked up at 9 by Lomas Travel.

We went back to our rooms and finished packing and I washed my face. Haley and I both went without makeup, then brought all our stuff over to Mom and Dad’s. They filled up half of my medium Away suitcase, and we called it good. Haley found a frog in their bathroom, haha! We grabbed all our luggage and rolled down to the lobby. Mom and I checked out for our rooms, and they cut off our all inclusive bracelets off. Overall, I really liked the Allegro Cozumel! The service was amazing and the hospitality was unmatched. I would definitely stay there again.

Lomas Travel picked us up right at 9, and we headed into town. I had the great idea of parking Dad at Starbucks, with all of our bags, so we weren’t carrying around five roller bags. Dad was okay with the idea because his back was still not feeling great. Our driver dropped us off near the Starbucks and Haley treated us all to coffee, thanks sis! We met another guy from Lomas, who gave us our ferry tickets to Playa del Carmen. We left Dad with his paper and a magazine and all our bags, and the three of us set off to explore the town.

We saw a “Cozumel” sign and a tour guide took a really cool panoramic photo for us! We spent about an hour and a half walking around the shops. I got a visor to wear at the pool and Mom got some stuff for her friends. Haley got a little purse and we got a few things for Dad, too. It was really hot, so around 11:15 we went back to Starbucks to meet up with Dad. We all used the bathroom and Haley got a snack.

Next up, we rolled our luggage down the street to the ferry dock. This ferry was much busier than our first ferry, almost everyone had luggage! We waited in line for a while, then started boarding at noon. We dropped our luggage and got tags for them, then found a row to sit together inside. I blogged some, but it was a pretty short ride, about 40 minutes. The water was pretty choppy, though. We grabbed our luggage and tipped the guy who helped us once we docked at Playa del Carmen, then headed to our meeting point to meet with Lomas. Our guide helped us to the place our taxi was picking us up, to take us to the Krystal Grand Hotel in Cancun. We had to wait a few minutes, because our ferry actually arrived late, due to the choppy weather. Mom went into a convenience store and bought us some water and peanuts for a snack. After a bit, our new Lomas driver arrived.

This time we were traveling in style, we had a large SUV with “The Luxury Collection by Lomas Travel” on the side, which was pretty cool! I sat in the back with Mom, and blogged a bit. Dad enjoyed talking to the driver, who was really kind. I was starting to feel a little weird, so I stopped blogging and then we arrived at the Krystal Grand Hotel! Cancun definitely had a different feel than Cozumel did, we were in the touristy area with tons of hotels and restaurants. Our driver helped us with all our bags, then we headed to check into our rooms! Thankfully, I was feeling better after getting out of the car.

We checked in and found out that our rooms were separate (much to Dad’s dismay), but they were right next to each other! This hotel was a huge circle with a hollow inside. Mom and Dad’s room was ready, so we went up to the ninth floor. Their room was really nice! We hung out there, then Mom, Haley, and I went downstairs to see if our room was ready. We were met by a hotel employee named Arturo. He helped us cut the line and get our keys, which was really nice! Haley went up to our room to shower, while Mom and I talked with Arturo about some plans we would like to make. I really wanted to go to Chichen Itza, which is old Mayan ruins. He ended up giving us a speech about getting a “membership” to their VIP hotel, Altitude. Mom and I really weren’t interested in that, so we ended the conversation and headed upstairs.

I checked out our room, and Haley told me Dad was supposed to be in his room. I knocked for a bit and he wasn’t there! I got a little worried because of his hurt back, I didn’t want him to be laying on the floor in pain! Mom and I looked around the hotel and found him coming in from the pool, phew. Turns out he went for a swim and checked out the ocean. I’m just glad he was okay! We stopped at the cafe in the lobby and grabbed us all some bottled water and a few snacks to tie us over to dinner. The three of us went back to our rooms, and Haley and I put on a little make up. I booked dinner for us at the Asian restaurant, for a teppanyaki style dinner (also called hibachi, like when they cook in front of you at Benihana).

The four of us headed down to the pool for a few hours before dinner. Haley and I went to the swim up bar and we just lounged around the pool for a while. There were umbrellas and waiters getting everyone drinks and it was just really nice out. Mom left before us to go shower before dinner, then Haley, Dad, and I went up and changed before dinner.

We all headed to dinner and had such a fun night! We had a waiter who kept Haley and I’s wine glasses full, and a chef that really entertained us while cooking at our flat top table. First up we were served miso soup, then sushi. Both were super tasty! All the while, our chef was putting on a show, cooking up fried rice and then pork, beef, and chicken. He really chatted with Dad, and kind of flirted with Mom, making a heart out of fried rice for her, hahah. Next up was the meat, and all the food was so tasty! There were some sauces for us to try, and none of us could finish our whole meal. We had some ice cream for dessert, I had green tea which was really good! While at dinner, Dad went to the bathroom and Arturo found him! Oh no, he wanted to sign us up for the “membership”. He had waited for hours to find all of us. Dad told him we weren’t interested, but told him Mom and I would talk to him in the morning—ugh.

After dinner, we decided to walk around the touristy area, outside of the hotel. We ended up walking down the wrong street, but it was nice to walk around and see some of the other hotels. It was still really hot out! We decided that the next night, we would go down the other way, which seemed to be more touristy. After our walk, we went up to the rooms. Dad iced his back, while Mom, Haley, and I went to hang out. Haley and I got a few glasses of wine and the three of us hung out in a cool bar, looking outside. Someone was even teaching a dance class out there, at like 10pm! The three of us had some really funny conversations, then called it a night, around 11. We got all the way up to our room, when I realized that my key had slipped under the chairs we were sitting on! Woops! We went back to the bar and Haley had to crawl through the wall to get it for us, hahah! We all said goodnight and Haley and I watched some TV while we were falling asleep. Unfortunately, I realized that I had lost my small stuffed turtle, Flipper. Ingvar got him for me for our first anniversary, from Hawaii. I looked through all my things and realized I probably left him in the sheets at the Allegro, Cozumel. I was really sad, but I couldn’t do anything about it. Haley was really sweet and cuddled up to me since I was missing Flipper (and Ingvar, hahah). It was still a great great day in Cancun, though! :]

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king-finnigan · 4 years

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Play With Fire - part 7

Y’all already know what to expect from this series but if you don’t: Warning! Smut ahead! Is orgasm denial a warning? If so, here it is, I guess. Warning, orgasm denial? And my awkward dirty talk, I guess.

Woops I forgot to link the masterlist

***

He struggles against his bonds, the metal grating against the wood softly, as Jaskier pushes his finger in further. He groans, clenching around the unfamiliar feeling.

Jaskier shushes him softly, pressing kisses along his jaw. “Relax, love, just relax. It’ll feel better if you’re not so tense.”

Geralt does as he’s told, melting into the mattress, shuddering in quiet pleasure as Jaskier whispers “good boy” to him. The finger sinks in deeper and the initial burn turns into a distinct sort of pleasure, something he’s never felt before.

“Hmm, hold on, love.” Jaskier mutters, softly lifting up one of Geralt’s legs, slinging it over his shoulder, pushing the other to the side with his knee. “There, better isn’t it?”

Geralt can only choke out a hum in agreement before Jaskier pulls his finger partially out, adding another when he pushes back in. And although it feels so wrong to be bound, not in control of what’s going to happen, Geralt can’t help but relax further into the pillows, hips bucking slightly as Jaskier’s fingers push into him.

He groans wordlessly as the young man curls his fingers, hitting a sensitive spot inside Geralt, sending sparks of pleasure up his spine, back arching off the bed a bit.

“Feel good, love?” Jaskier asks, grinning at Geralt from between his legs. “You like it when I do this?” He pushes against Geralt’s prostrate again, massaging it a bit.

“Fuck,” he bites out through gritted teeth, bound hands tightening around the bedframe.

“Answer me, love,” Jaskier commands, wicked grin around his lips, confidence in his voice, the fingers of his other hand curling around Geralt’s hard cock. “Does that feel good?”

Geralt gasps, choking back a moan at the unbridled pleasure that sparks through his veins. “Y- yes,” he manages to whisper out, glaring at Jaskier as the young man looks at him expectantly, fingers stilling. “It feels fucking amazing so don’t you dare stop-”

He gasps when Jaskier moves again, pulling in and out of Geralt expertly. “Was that so hard, love?” He plants open-mouthed kisses on the inside of the leg that’s slung over his shoulder. “You want to come, love?”

Geralt tips his head back, chest heaving with every ragged breath he takes in. He nods frantically, eyes squeezed shut, as Jaskier pushes in one last time, his fingers brushing against Geralt’s prostate before he pulls out completely.

Geralt’s eyes snap open as his budding climax dies down in his veins. He looks back down, glaring at the satisfied smirk on Jaskier’s face. “What the f-”

“Tell me their names.”

Geralt blinks, the fog slowly clearing from his mind. “What?”

“Tell me the names of the people who are trying to send you to prison, and I’ll let you come.”

Geralt snarls at the young man, tugging at his bonds. “No. I won’t let you kill them.”

Jaskier sighs, disappointed. “That’s unfortunate, love.”

“Why the hell is th-” his voice catches in his throat as Jaskier pushes back in, three fingers this time, his other hand moving around his cock in quick, short movements.

Geralt sees stars when the fingers in him spread a bit, the slight burn only adding to the pleasure. He knows what’s coming, knows what’s going to happen, but between his hands being bound to the bedframe and the pleasure rendering him docile and pliant in Jaskier’s skilled hands, he’s powerless to stop it.

“Please,” he gasps, back arching off the bed, hips bucking slightly, orgasm approaching fast, “please.”

Jaskier laughs softly, hand pulling out of him again, instead pushing down on Geralt’s abdomen, holding him down as his hips move in desperate motions, trying to search out his quickly dwindling climax.

“Please,” he breathes out.

“Their names, love.”

“Never.”

Jaskier sighs again, shaking his head slightly as he smiles. “Oh, love, I could keep going all day and all night until you’re a begging, panting mess underneath me. You can’t keep this up much longer.”

Geralt grits his teeth, chest heaving, still. “I can. I will.”

“Hmm.” Jaskier pouts, frowning as he thinks, placing a light kiss on the inside of Geralt’s knee. “Looks like we’re at an impasse.” He shrugs, wicked glint returning to his eyes as he bends forward, the muscles at the back of Geralt’s leg straining a bit as his knee is pushed against his shoulder.

Jaskier brushes his lips against Geralt’s, smiling widely. “Oh well. At least I can still have some fun with you.”

Geralt gasps slightly as he feels the blunt head of Jaskier’s cock pressing against his rim, shudders as Jaskier softly takes his earlobe between his teeth for a split second.

His voice is suddenly soft, sincere. “If you want me to stop, say... say cactus. Alright, love?”

He nods, and he feels Jaskier smile against the soft spot under his ear, his tone regaining its familiar cockiness.

“You think three fingers was enough preparation, love?” He can practically hear the smirk in Jaskier’s voice. “Of course it was, silly me. I bet you’ve been eager to be fucked the moment I laid my hands on you, bet you wanted my cock in your arse the second you saw me.”

Geralt groans wordlessly, hips bucking slightly to search out friction.

“Tell me, love. Tell me how much you want to be fucked, how much you want me to come in you.”

He gasps as he feels Jaskier push in slightly, struggles against his bonds, desperate to be able to feel warm skin under his fingers, to be able to rake his nails down that perfect back. “Please.”

“Tell me, love.”

“Fuck- I need it, I need you so badly, please just fuck me, you little sh-”

He moans breathlessly, head tipping back in pleasure as Jaskier pushes in, bottoming out in one swift movement of his hips.

“Hmm,” Jaskier hums against his skin, laughing softly at the undignified whimper Geralt lets out as the young man shifts his hips a bit. “Desperate little slut for me, aren’t you, love? You feel so good, better than I ever imagined.”

He pulls out a bit, slamming back in, and Geralt whimpers at the pleasure that sparks up his spine, sets his skin on fire, as Jaskier’s cock hits his prostate, as the young man’s stomach brushes against his leaking prick, trapped between them.

Jaskier groans, slamming in and out of Geralt at an unrelenting pace. “Fuck- you feel so good, love, you’re so tight for me.”

Geralt moans wordlessly, as every snap of Jaskier’s hips hits him at just the right angle. He’s never done this before - never felt like this before: raw, open, exposed, filled, aching for more, the sparks of pleasure almost tangible on his skin as he’s fucked into the mattress.

“Please,” he begs, desperate for release.

Jaskier gasps in his ear, the rhythm of his hips faltering a bit, growing sloppier as he climbs towards his own climax. “Their names, love.”

“Fuck-” He can’t do this anymore, can’t keep coming so tantalizingly close to orgasm, only to be let down over and over again. He can’t stop the blind desperation he feels for release, can’t stop himself from blurting out the names that have been clinging to his tongue ever since Jaskier first asked for them. “Fine! De Vries and Stregobor- fuck, just please, please let me come, goddammit-”

“Good boy.” He shudders at the praise Jaskier whispers into his ear. “Come for me, love.”

He cries out in pleasure as Jaskier’s hand wraps around his leaking prick, his hips snapping into Geralt’s one last time. He’s floating and falling at the same time, white-hot lightning bolts of pleasure shooting up his spine as his own come paints white stripes across his stomach. A distant part of his mind registers Jaskier groaning into his ear, feels warmth fill him as the younger man comes.

They lay there for a while in the aftershocks of their orgasm, chests heaving, skin slick with sweat and come, drying in the cool air.

Finally, after a few minutes, Jaskier pulls out of him, Geralt groaning a bit at the overstimulation, at the unfamiliar feeling of come rushing out of him, onto the bed sheets. Jaskier sighs wistfully, pecking a small kiss to his lips, smiling down on him, before abruptly getting up.

Geralt frowns. “What-”

“Don’t worry, love,” Jaskier muses, as he picks Geralt’s shirt from the ground, wiping the come off himself, before wiping it off Geralt’s stomach, “I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

He kisses Geralt one last time, before picking his clothes off the floor, pulling them on.

“Jaskier, what are you doing?”

“No time to waste,” the younger man mutters, “after all, I have to get to them before they file the report.”

Realization dawns on Geralt, and ice-cold shock runs through his veins, quickly being replaced by panic and anger, as he tugs at the handcuffs still holding him in place. “Jaskier, I swear to god, don’t kill them-”

Jaskier sighs, then smiles, walking to the door, turning around at the last second. “Love, I have no choice. I’ll be back soon.”

He turns back around, closing the door behind him.

***

Tag list babey! (if you want to be added, just send me a DM or an ask, or put it in the comments, whatever suits you):

@just-a-himbo-and-his-feral-bard, @dandelionslute, @weakforjaskier, @the-blondey, @shipwrecked-nawtali, @bygodstillam, @rum-cream, @random-nerd-3, @allthethingshappening, @agentlewomanandascholar, @tschulijulesjulie, @noobtiedoo, @foddle-the-fiddler, @thenameislion-dandelion, @skai6, @thesmileyplant, @hysteria347, @pensandknittingneedles, @freak-fee-blog, @whenrainbowsend, @flustratedcas, @negatjazzy, @bridgehampton, @lookinforsomeabsinth

#geraskier #the witcher fanfiction #geralt of rivia #jaskier #prison au #play with fire #part 7 #part 7 already??? time flies #smut

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postmodernmulticoloredcloak · 3 years

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Yes! Yes, I know that tag, alright xD I've been through it many times. I used to live in your Stucky/bhp tag back in 2018-19😂 BUT YOU HAVE MET SEBASTIAN? How have I missed THAT?!! Also, I understand u r not watching Fatws but I have to share this with you since you were/are my #1 Stucky ... whatever u wanna call it ... The way they have written Bucky/are depicting him, esp, in first 2eps, feels a 100% like everything you may have read in any Stucky fanfic- the best and the worst kinds but the only thing that isn't there is Steve. Don't get me wrong, he's still whining about Steve here but only w.r.t the shield. Outside of that... nothing. I know why it's like that. I don't expect anything but it's just weird. It's like if I was reading any of these fics and then erased Steve from that.

Sorry.

I'm curious, I don't remember seeing X-Men movies on ur blog. Do you not like those? Bryan Singer's terrible adaptations were why I wasn't also interested in MCU but then I was bullied into watching Avengers so couldn't avoid anymore. How do you watch Seb's movies though? It's so difficult for me to find them, esp, something like Political Animals (I still haven't been able to T-T) , Endings, Beginnings, I'm Not Here etc. Okay, the Ask is getting too big. Woops. Sorry.

Aah no I’m actually really bad at watching things, by that I mean I download things and then never watch them. I barely have seen anything with him in it despite wanting to...

And yeah I’ve met him at Jibland in 2019! I haven’t really posted much about it bc I kinda went there for him, I didn’t even have access to the panel room bc I got the least expensive kind of ticket. (I had been to Jibcon twice before and I had decided to never go again bc they’re badly organized and expensive, but then they... got Seb...)

I got his autograph and two photo ops with him. I was supposed to get 1 photo op but when I got out of the photo op room I saw the sign that said they were still selling more so I just walked to the desk and bought another. Mind, that stuff was expensive :’)

I tried watching the X-men movies and just got bored and stopped in the middle of one. There’s some cute Cherik art on my dash and I appreciate it but I can’t sit through more bad movies, the MCU already got all the slots...

I really wish TFATWS was, like, happening in a state of things where it could be watchable for me but I’ve really reached the point where this stuff genuinely squicks me out badly. I mean, Civil War was genuinely bad for my mental health (I mean, my mental health was shit back then and the movie just pushed all my bad buttons) and the show is like... Civil War meets Endgame in terms of plot, tone, premise, etc, so it would be like shooting my mental health directly in the face. I’m not surprised Steve is like a loud silence, that’s what happens when you have to write things dodging a whole bunch of things and needing to incorporate things that make no sense together or even singularly, and dodging more things ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Don’t worry about long asks, we’re living in the miracle times where ask can be long, bask it in XD

#superwholockian93

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ajokeformur-ray · 4 years

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Ok so I have a joker request if you are taking them. Could you please do a headcanon for Arthur finding his s/o hiding in an alley during the riots cus the apartment got overrun and she had to escape, but when he finds her she is scared of him but tries to hide it. Sorry if this doesn’t make any sense.

I changed this up a little, I hope you don’t mind! It’s just what I have in mind is a little different in regards to the reader’s fear.

Okay so we got - swearing, smoking, rioting, moral flexibility (something I have so there’s a tiny bit of self-insert in here woops lmao), blood mentions. All pretty tame but I thought I’d tag them anyway! You never know.

For me, this GIF says one thing: wear your inside on the outside. Also, this poor man didn’t want this. He didn’t want any of this, but that’s a separate headcanon set I already wrote and cried over lmaooo.

Quickly did the riots in Gotham City grow out of control.

There were police cars stationed everywhere; window screens bashed in, blood running down car doors as passengers had been killed immediately or knocked out upon impact.

Fires and fireworks, smoke bombs and smoke grenades all made Gotham a blaze of light, of colours and yes, it was pretty and it made you feel oddly happy, giddy, to see such a shitty city burning, but you were also terrified.

Before Arthur had left for his performance on the Murray Show, he had told you to pack two bags: one for him and one for you.

In the event that anything should go wrong, he had said.

You couldn’t have known how right that wrenching in your gut had been when it had told you to run, to run and to never look back.

But you couldn’t, wouldn’t do that to Arthur, and so you had packed both of you a bag each; with your precious possessions and a spare change of clothes, your spare apartment keys and anything else which you could think of.

You had left them by the front door, again as per instructed (you didn’t know where this confidence had come from, but you liked it more than you probably should).

Hours later, when Arthur was a wanted man and you had finished crying out of shock, fear and horror, the apartment building had been overrun as people who had fallen into the trap of mob mentality had taken out their frustrations on innocents.

Really, they were no better than the people they wanted to burn, but who were you to say anything?

So quickly had you grabbed your bags, having somehow successfully fought off the person who had tried to get in through the door, locked the apartment - it would probably be broken into but you hoped that the lock would hold itself - and done something you have should done earlier that day.

You ran.

Literally lost - in the fog, smoke and in the panic of tonight’s events had you gotten quite lost in the city you had been raised in - you had found an old dumpster and huddled behind it for safety, hugging your knees to your chest.

One thought kept you from going completely fucking mad. Just one.

Where was your Arthur?

His name was a soothing mantra in your mind, your eyes roaming about the place.

All you could see was the back of the grimy bin, the wet and dank wall making your clothes stick to your back.

Later would you feel grossed out by all the bacterium that you were surrounded by.

For, now, though -

A staggering figure dressed all in red.

A blood red grin from ear to ear.

Whistling that sounded like That’s Life.

“Arthur!” A hush of joy had fled your lips before you could stop it and the figure had stopped, whirled around desperately.

He was looking for you. His one.

He had heard you, somehow, over the utter chaos of the street.

“Y-Y/N?”

You sprang up, your cold joints aching in protest as you made your way over, holding your arms out like a child begging to be held.

It was as accurate a simile as any, in truth.

“Arthur!” You ran to him, your arms immediately throwing themselves around his neck.

“It’s Joker now,” he murmured, his arms coming to hold you tightly.

He kissed your hair, your face, again and again. He smelled of blood, the metallic tang tainting his every kiss. He smelled of greasepaint and a little of sweat, but underneath all of that could you still smell him.

“No,” You shook your head, moved to cup his injured face in your hands. “You’ll always be my Arthur, no matter what the world sees you as.”

A watery smile, a grateful kiss to your forehead.

He knew you would understand.

Green eyes sharpened as Joker realised you weren’t home. “Why did you leave the apartment? You didn’t listen to me! Why does no one listen?”

“I did.” You rushed to defend yourself, cheeks burning. “The apartment - someone got in. I fought them out, somehow, locked the door, and I got scared and I just wanted you, and - “

“Shshsh,” arms around you again as Joker held you protectively to his body, his eyes darting about the streets as he comforted you with quiet shushes.

Joker was hurt - a head injury, the cut on his lip, bruises all over his body, and you - if you were hurt in any way then he really would werewolf and go wild.

You were the only thing he had left to lose.

He had to get you both home.

He saw you had the bags - that was good. He hoped you had packed his contingency plans.

You had. You were clever enough to put bits and pieces together; a cryptic comment here and there laced throughout your days with Arthur had all formed into a whole tapestry in your mind.

“I’m so scared,” You mumbled, half to yourself and half to Joker.

“Of what?” A sharp question.

You clutched at him feeling his shoulder blades through his suit. You held onto them, finding comfort in the familiar parts of Arthur that you could reach.

“You.”

The word was out before you could stop it, before you could articulate properly, and Joker froze in your arms.

He went totally still. He stopped breathing. He stopped blinking. Time came grounding to a halt.

A broken whisper.

“You’re scared of me?”

You stepped back, stepped away, seizing both of his hands in yours.

Look at me, your grip told him.

He looked like he was going to be sick as he met your eyes, green swimming with unshed tears.

“I meant to say that I’m scared for you, not of you. Silly man,” You stepped closer again, pressing a kiss to the back of one of his hands, “How could I ever be scared of you?”

Joker’s brow creased as he struggled to understand through the exhaustion of all that had happened this night.

Finally did he realise what you were trying to say and the sick expression on his painted, bloodied face mutated and turned instead into a smug grin.

So fucking perfect, he thought.

“They won’t find us.”

“Let them try,” You grinned, “They got what they deserve. It’s our turn, don’t you think?”

A joyful laugh.

You closed your eyes, cherished the sound, and when again you opened them did you find Joker closing in on you, to seal your promise with a blood stained, metallic tasting kiss.

Arms came around you, squeezed you into his embrace, and together did you take a few moments more to simply be.

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