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butterfly-lies-chase-them-away · 7 months

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Bunny - Health Ledger!Joker x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Joker x Fem!Reader Joker x Reader with Anxiety

Word Count: 17,654

Warnings: murder, Joker, robbing banks, minor age gap, implied stalking, technically breaking and entering

Summary: !!Request!! All Y/n wanted was to deposit money into her bank account, but what happens when the bank she arrives at gets robbed by the Joker? And what happens when she catches his eye? (Part Two)

A/N: This was a request from the lovely @Evergreenbellaaaz I hope you enjoy this one as I love the Joker so much, like I would die for this man. Joker is a bit OOC, but he's a bastard, so what can you do? And I did not mean to pop off like this, but here we are! I wrote so much more than I was supposed to but when the words flow, they flow~ I hope you enjoy this, thank you for the request my dear, and love you all 💚

The bustling streets of Gotham seemed to close in on Y/n as she walked with purpose, her steps echoing the persistent beat of her anxious heart. Her fingers clutched the small envelope containing a substantial sum of cash, the weight of responsibility bearing down on her. She repeated the words she had rehearsed countless times under her breath, a mantra to calm her nerves.

"I would like to deposit some cash into my account, please," she whispered to herself for what felt like the hundredth time. The crowded cityscape provided an indifferent backdrop to her internal struggle.

The decision to go on this seemingly simple journey, a mere 30-minute trip to the bank, had transformed into a two-week-long ordeal of procrastination. Y/n, who usually had her parents help with mundane chores like this, now found herself standing in front of Gotham City bank. The money she had saved over the past year burned a hole in her pocket, a tangible reminder that it was time to step into the realm of adulthood.

As she approached the imposing facade of the bank, its polished exterior seemed to mock her insecurities. The daunting prospect of facing the unfamiliar banking procedures left Y/n grappling with a sense of unease. Yet, she pressed on, her internal resolve battling against the knots tightening in her stomach.

Entering the turnstile door of the bank, Y/n hesitated at the threshold, momentarily overwhelmed by the sterile environment and the rhythmic hum of conversations. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the task at hand.

Getting in line, her voice still a quiet whisper as she practised, "I would like to deposit some cash into my account, please."

"Next!" The call from the person at the counter pierced through the ambient hum of the bank.

Determination etched across her features, Y/n navigated through the maze of anxiety, reaching the counter with a mix of apprehension and resolve. She placed her trembling hands on the smooth surface of the counter.

The bank employee, a woman with a practiced smile, looked up from her paperwork. "Hi, how can I help you today?" she inquired, her gaze meeting Y/n's with professional courtesy.

"I-I..Um.." Y/n stuttered, feeling the weight of her own vulnerability. The words she had rehearsed so diligently seemed to evaporate in the heat of the moment. "Can I put my cash in my account?" she finally managed to articulate, her voice betraying a hint of nervousness.

The heat radiating from her neck intensified, the physical manifestation of her anxiety. Despite her efforts, Y/n couldn't escape the self-imposed judgment. After all the practice and mental preparation, she berated herself for stumbling over such a simple request. The bank employee, however, maintained a neutral expression, accustomed to the occasional nervousness of customers.

"Could I get your name and acc-" The woman at the counter was abruptly cut off by the jarring eruption of loud shouts, disrupting the calm atmosphere of the bank.

Y/n's gaze darted towards the source of the commotion, her heart pounding anew as an unforeseen disturbance unfolded, shattering the mundane routine of the day.

A sudden jolt reverberated through the once-calm bank as the turnstile doors spun, revealing an ominous group of men adorned in clown masks. In their hands, they held large guns.

"Get on the ground!" The command was barked, the harsh echo of gunshots accompanying the directive.

Panic erupted, and the bank's atmosphere plunged into disarray. A cacophony of terrified screams reverberated through the air as patrons and employees alike scrambled to obey, dropping to the ground in a chaotic symphony of fear.

Y/n's heart raced at an alarming pace, the sound of her own pulse competing with the pandemonium around her. Legs weakened by a cocktail of adrenaline and terror gave way, making it effortless for her to sink to the cold floor. Huddled against the counter, she sought refuge in the shadows, her trembling form attempting to blend into the background of the unfolding nightmare.

Through the ominous procession of masked invaders, a figure with an unmistakable presence emerged. A man with a face painted in ghastly hues, wild green hair framing his grinning visage, and a purple coat that billowed as he walked. It was a theatrical entrance that left no room for doubt, the Joker had arrived.

The room fell silent, a collective breath held as the Joker's calculating gaze swept across the terrified hostages. His painted face, a canvas for chaos, twisted into a grotesque yellow smile. In that unsettling moment, the Joker had seized control of the bank, turning a routine day into an unforeseen dance with the anarchic force that was the clown prince of crime.

The Joker surveyed the terrified hostages with manic glee. His eyes gleamed with delight as he strolled through the bank, his henchmen maintaining a menacing presence at his side. The air crackled with an unpredictable energy, the tension escalating with each step he took.

"Greetings, my fine friends!" the Joker declared, his voice resonating with a twisted mirth that sent chills down the spines of the hostages.

He paused dramatically, allowing the weight of his presence to settle upon the captive audience. "I hope you're all having a splendid day! I know I am!"

He gestured to the chaos around him, as if orchestrating a chaotic symphony. The hostages, cowering on the ground, exchanged fearful glances as the Joker continued his morbidly cheerful monologue. "You see, life is just a series of unexpected events. One moment, you're withdrawing cash, and the next, you're starring in a show you never signed up for!"

A twisted grin etched across his face as he revelled in the discomfort of his captives. "But fear not, my dear friends! The Joker is here to add a splash of color to your dull lives! And what's life without a little chaos, eh?"

The Joker's eyes scanned the crowd, and then, as if drawn by an invisible force, they locked onto Y/n. The corners of his mouth curled into a wicked grin. The Joker's voice cut through the tense silence, a raspy symphony of madness that sent shivers down the spines of everyone in the bank. His unnerving smile widened as he surveyed the captivated audience.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" he mused, his words dripping with malicious amusement.

His eyes, obscured by the chaos-inducing makeup, seemed to fixate on Y/n huddled near the counter. "A little bunny who wandered into my little party. What's your name, darling?"

Y/n's throat tightened, fear and uncertainty mingling within her. She stammered, "Y-Y/n," the words barely audible over the palpable tension in the air.

"Y/n!" the Joker exclaimed, drawing out each syllable as if savoring it. "Such a lovely name for such a lovely surprise! Welcome to the show!" He chuckled, the sound echoing like eerie music in the confines of the bank.

The atmosphere within the bank was suffocating, thick with fear and tension. The masked henchmen moved with ruthless efficiency, pointing their guns at helpless hostages and demanding compliance as they forcefully filled bags with money. The metallic scent of panic lingered in the air, and the dissonance of terrified sobs mingled with the Joker's maniacal laughter.

Yet, in the midst of the chaotic tableau, the Joker's focus remained fixated on Y/n. His eyes, obscured by the painted mask, bore into her with an unsettling intensity that sent shivers down her spine. The manic energy surrounding him seemed to warp the very air, making the atmosphere oppressive and surreal.

The Joker's henchmen continued their menacing work, but the Joker himself stepped closer to Y/n, the unnerving smile on his face never wavering. It was as if the rest of the bank faded away, leaving only the two of them locked in a macabre dance.

"Y/n," he purred, his voice a dark melody against the backdrop of chaos. "You're a breath of fresh air in this dreary city. I can't help but feel a certain... connection between us. Don't you?"

Y/n's heart pounded in her chest, the gravity of the situation intensified by the Joker's unwavering attention. The menacing environment and the Joker's unpredictable nature created a concoction of fear that gripped her, making her acutely aware that, in the midst of this criminal spectacle, she had become an unwitting focal point in the Joker's deranged performance.

The menacing henchmen continued to patrol the terrified hostages, their eyes devoid of empathy. The Joker, however, maintained an unsettling focus on Y/n, as if sensing a peculiar energy in the air.

"Now, my dear Y/n, since you're the guest of honor, how about you do something special for me?"

Y/n's eyes widened with trepidation, her mind racing to comprehend the surreal situation. The Joker's unpredictable nature made every second feel like an eternity.

"I-I don't... I don't know what to do," she stammered, her voice barely reaching the Joker's ears.

He threw back his head in laughter, the sinister sound reverberating through the bank. "Oh, darling, that's the beauty of it! Surprise me! Dance a little, sing a song, or maybe tell me a joke. I do love a good joke!"

Caught between the threat of violence and the Joker's eccentric demands, Y/n felt the weight of an impossible choice. Little did she know, her unassuming visit to the bank had transformed into an unexpected performance in the Joker's twisted carnival of chaos. The Joker, seemingly unbothered by her hesitation, circled Y/n like a predatory cat closing in on its prey.

"No worries, darling. Sometimes silence speaks louder than words," he mused, his voice carrying an unsettling blend of whimsy and menace.

Y/n, caught in the crosshairs of the Joker's peculiar attention, remained frozen, her anxiety immobilizing her like a deer in headlights. However, the Joker, never one to let an opportunity for chaos slip away, decided to take matters into his own hands.

With an abrupt motion, the Joker twirled Y/n around to face him. "Since you're not in the mood for words, how about a dance?" he suggested, a maniacal glint in his eyes.

Without waiting for a response, he began to move, his own twisted rhythm guiding Y/n's hesitant steps. Everyone in the bank now bore witness to a macabre dance between the Clown Prince of Crime and an unwilling participant. Y/n stumbled through the grotesque waltz, her movements a stark contrast to the Joker's fluid, unpredictable motions.

The masked henchmen paused in their looting, their attention momentarily diverted to the unexpected spectacle. The Joker's laughter blended with the discordant echoes of the bank, turning the once-sterile environment into a nightmarish stage for an impromptu performance orchestrated by Gotham's most infamous criminal.

Within the chaotic vortex of the bank, Y/n felt the grip of anxiety tightening around her like an invisible vice. Her chest constricted with each strained breath, and her pulse echoed loudly in her ears, a relentless drumbeat of fear. The oppressive weight of the Joker's attention bore down on her, intensifying the already overwhelming sense of vulnerability.

As the Joker's manic laughter reverberated through the bank, it echoed in Y/n's mind, amplifying her sense of powerlessness. Her thoughts became a cacophony of self-doubt and fear, drowning out any rational response she might summon.

Her mind, usually a refuge, had become a battleground of conflicting emotions, where anxiety and terror waged a relentless war against any semblance of control. In that moment, Y/n found herself caught between the stark contrast of the Joker's madness and her own silent struggle with the debilitating grip of social anxiety.

The Joker's gloved hand, cool and unsettlingly steady, closed around Y/n's arm like a vice. The touch sent a shiver down her spine, the contrast between his cold grasp and the warmth of her own fear-ridden skin intensifying the surreal nature of the encounter. His fingers, adorned in faded purple gloves, curled possessively around her.

The wad of cash in an envelope, her hard-earned savings, nestled uncomfortably in the pocket of her coat. The crinkling sound it made served as a cruel reminder of the mundane purpose that had led her to this twisted encounter with Gotham's Clown Prince of Crime.

“What’s this bunny?” the Joker whispered, reaching into her pocket.

In a swift motion, the Joker took the envelope from Y/n's pocket. The Joker's painted eyes lingered on the crumpled envelope, a twisted fascination dancing within their depths. His gloved fingers traced the edges of the paper, feeling the texture of the cash hidden within. The manic grin on his face widened, a malevolent satisfaction painting his features with an unsettling glow.

"Well, well, well," he mused, his voice a sinister purr. "Looks like we've got a bit of money here. What were you planning to do with all this pretty money, hmm?" His tone, mocking and playful, cut through the air, adding another layer of discomfort to Y/n's already fraught nerves.

The Joker's eyes, still fixed on the cash, momentarily flickered up to meet Y/n's terrified gaze.

"You know, pretty thing, money makes the world go round, buT chaos... chaos gives it that extra spin," he declared, his words carrying a perverse wisdom.

With an unexpected gentleness, he placed the crumpled envelope back into Y/n's trembling hands.

"There you go, darling," he sneered, his voice dripping with faux courtesy.

"You're pretty, and you get to keep your money. Consider it a gift from the Clown Prince of Crime himself!" The Joker's laughter, sharp and discordant, echoed through the bank, leaving Y/n to grapple with the bizarre reality that she had been granted reprieve in the midst of the madman's carnival.

The Joker abruptly stopped dancing, releasing Y/n with a dramatic flourish. As the eerie music of chaos continued to play in the background, Y/n, drained and disoriented, stumbled and fell to the unforgiving floor. The Joker, seemingly disinterested, began to saunter away, his vibrant purple coat trailing behind him.

Y/n watched the Joker's retreating figure, a mix of fear and confusion etched across her face. His manic laughter echoed through the bank as he distanced himself, leaving her in the wake of the strange encounter.

Just when Y/n began to believe the nightmare might be over, the Joker, in a surprising turn, paused and turned back to her.

"On second thought," he said, his painted eyes fixated on her as if reconsidering something.

With a swift movement, he approached his henchmen, and Y/n's breath caught, fearing he might grab a weapon.

To her bewilderment, however, the Joker reached into the bag of ill-gotten gains and pulled out a handful of cash. He approached Y/n with a malevolent smirk, crouching down beside her, holding the money out before her like an offering.

"Treat yourself," he quipped, the words dripping with a macabre generosity. "Buy you something pretty, bunny," His yellowing teeth flashed in a grin that sent a chill down Y/n's spine.

Y/n hesitated, glancing at the proffered money, her mind reeling from the bizarre twists of the encounter. The Joker, seemingly satisfied with his whimsical act of kindness, stood up again and walked out of the bank, leaving Y/n alone on the cold floor amidst the remnants of his chaotic performance.

The minutes that followed felt like a surreal blur to Y/n. The bank continued to echo with the disjointed sounds of the robbery, the erratic footsteps of the henchmen, the muffled cries of hostages, and the lingering aura of fear that permeated the air.

As she struggled to regain her bearings, the presence of law enforcement gradually became apparent. Sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder with each passing moment. Uniformed police officers, their expressions a mix of urgency and determination, streamed into the bank, ushering bewildered hostages towards the exit.

Y/n, still seated on the floor, felt a gentle hand on her shoulder, the touch snapping her back to a hazy reality. A police officer, their voice calm and reassuring, urged her to stand and guided her towards the exit. Her movements were mechanical, her mind a foggy labyrinth of emotions.

The daylight outside the bank entrance felt harsh against her dilated pupils. As Y/n emerged, she blinked, trying to return to the real world after what she had just experienced. The police ushered her to safety along with the other hostages.

As they moved away from the scene, Y/n instinctively slipped her hand into her pocket, the touch of cold, crumpled paper grounding her in the midst of confusion. Fingers tracing the contours of the secret wad of cash, she was jolted back to the disconcerting reality of the encounter. The bills felt real, tangible, serving as an unsettling reminder that the Joker had indeed been there and given her some sick kind of special attention.

The police officer continued to speak words of reassurance, but Y/n's attention remained fixated on the unexpected gift nestled in her pocket. The cash became a tangible link to the bizarre dance with madness, a connection to the maniacal clown who had momentarily disrupted her ordinary world.

As they moved further away from the bank, the distant wails of sirens and the controlled urgency of emergency personnel gradually replaced the dissonance of the robbery. Y/n's gaze remained distant, her mind grappling with the unnerving realization that, in the pocket of her jeans, she held a token of the surreal encounter that would continue to haunt her thoughts for days to come.

The revelation of the secret wad of cash tucked away in her pocket served as a haunting memento of the surreal encounter with the Joker. Y/n couldn't shake the eerie feeling that the crumpled bills held a weight beyond their monetary value.

To her muted surprise, the Gotham City police remained oblivious to the extra bit of money concealed in her pocket. Y/n, having seen the police's shortcomings on the news, didn't expect them to figure out what happened after the Joker's bank robbery.

Yet Y/n hesitated to use the money. She knew better than to tempt fate by using the illegal bills into her routine transactions. The very nature of the Joker's strange generosity hinted at potential consequences, and Y/n, despite her limited understanding of the intricacies of money, sensed the looming risk associated with its dubious origins.

Her reluctance to touch the Joker's gift stemmed not only from the fear of being caught but also from an inherent understanding of her own luck, or lack thereof. The dodgy bills, like a ticking time bomb, held the potential to unravel her ordinary life in a city that seemed to thrive on chaos.

Surviving the close encounter with the Joker left Y/n in a state of disbelief. The fact that she had danced with the Clown Prince of Crime and emerged unscathed defied all logic. The disconcerting notion that countless eyes had likely observed the bizarre spectacle haunted her thoughts, yet she felt a sense of relief that the aftermath of the incident remained shrouded in a peculiar silence.

As the days passed, Y/n couldn't shake the lingering shadows of the encounter, each quiet moment a reminder that the Joker's presence had brushed against the edges of her reality.

A week had slipped by since the bank incident, a span of time that, thankfully, saw no follow up from the police. However, the absence of police activity also meant the unsettling reality that the Joker remained on the loose, and the thought haunted the edges of Y/n's consciousness. She fervently prayed that she would never find herself entangled in such a dangerous situation again.

On this particular late Thursday night, Y/n found herself navigating the dimly lit streets of Gotham. The late hours found her consumed by a craving for lollies, the lengthy study session still lingering in her mind. With the hood of her jacket up, she set off towards the nearby dairy, nestled conveniently around the corner from her university dormitory.

To her dismay, the familiar glow of the store's neon sign was conspicuously absent as she arrived at her destination. The store, known for it’s convenience, stood shuttered and silent. Faced with the closed doors, she felt a pang of embarrassment at the thought of returning empty-handed to her dormitory.

Refusing to let disappointment deter her, Y/n forged ahead. With a sigh, she continued down the street, her mind racing to recall the location of the next closest dairy. Though her steps were fueled by determination, a flicker of unease danced at the edges of her awareness, a lingering reminder of the precarious nature of life in Gotham.

Y/n's unease proved to be justified as she approached a group of men ahead. Despite her attempts to keep a low profile by bowing her head and hoping to pass by unnoticed, fate had different plans for her that night. As she drew nearer to the group, one of the men stepped forward, blocking her path with an unsettling certainty.

"Hey there, girly. What brings you out at this hour?" the man taunted, his words backed-up by the laughter of his companions.

A wave of numbness washed over Y/n, her instincts screaming at her to flee. Yet, as she tried to navigate around the imposing figure before her, he moved deliberately in front of her, effectively halting her progress.

"Whoa, hold on now. Where do you think you're going?" the man demanded, his voice laced with a menacing edge.

Desperation clawed at Y/n's throat as she pleaded for them to leave her be, her voice barely more than a whisper as she continued to avoid meeting their gaze.

"Please, just let me pass," she whispered, her heart hammering in her chest.

But her pleas fell on deaf ears. In a cruel twist of fate, one of the men reached out and tugged at her hoodie, exposing her to their scrutinizing stares. As Y/n lifted her gaze, her heart plummeted at the realization that she was now surrounded by five intimidating figures, their intentions unclear and her sense of safety shattered.

Y/n's heart leaped into her throat as one of the men reached into her pocket, extracting her wallet with a disregard for her privacy. "How much cash have we got here?" the man asked, his voice dripping with malicious intent.

With a sinking feeling, Y/n watched helplessly as a couple of the men gathered around, peering into her wallet with a grim curiosity. In that moment, instinct overrode reason, and Y/n's survival instincts kicked into high gear.

Without a second thought, Y/n bolted, her adrenaline-fueled flight propelling her past the looming figures that had moments ago surrounded her. She knew she was leaving her wallet behind, but in that split second decision, the preservation of her life outweighed any material possession.

As the men's shouts echoed behind her, Y/n's heart raced with a frantic rhythm, her feet pounding against the pavement in a desperate bid for escape. With every stride, she pushed herself harder, her mind a whirlwind of fear and determination.

In the darkness of the night, Y/n's gaze darted around, searching for a path to safety. Spotting an alleyway ahead, she made a split-second decision and veered off course, her feet carrying her into the murky depths of the narrow passage.

Though rational thought whispered warnings against running into the unknown, Y/n pressed on, her singular focus on outpacing her pursuers. With each step, the alleyway seemed to stretch endlessly before her.

Glancing over her shoulder, Y/n's heart sank as she realized the men were gaining on her with each passing moment. Y/n berated herself for the inevitable mishap as her foot caught on a discarded piece of rubbish, sending her crashing to the ground in a painful heap.

A scream tore from her lips as she tumbled to the unforgiving pavement, her hands and knees absorbing the most of the impact. Pain lanced through her body, tears welling in her eyes from a potent mixture of fear and agony. With trembling hands, she turned herself around, still on the ground, her gaze darting frantically to the looming figures that now stood before her.

But to her astonishment, the men's attention wavered, their cruel sneers faltering as their gaze shifted to something behind her. Confusion clouded Y/n's mind as she turned to follow their line of sight, her eyes widening in disbelief at the sight that greeted her.

Approaching from the shadows was another figure, one whose presence exuded a chilling aura of authority and menace. Y/n's breath caught in her throat as she watched the men scramble in terror, their boldness crumbling in the face of this new threat.

“A-ta-ta..” The scarred man's voice was a low, ominous growl as he continued his relentless advance, a gun trained on the men before him.

Y/n's heart pounded in her chest as the figure emerged into the dim light of the alleyway. It was the Joker, his painted visage twisted into a malevolent grin as he surveyed the scene before him.

“Drop the wallet,” the Joker demanded, his voice a cold command that brooked no argument.

With trembling hands, the man holding Y/n's wallet complied, the leather hitting the ground with a dull thud. “Now empty your pockets,” the Joker commanded once more, his gaze piercing through the darkness with an intensity that sent shivers down Y/n's spine.

The men, cowed by the Joker's presence, complied with his demands, the sound of coins and notes hitting the ground echoing through the alleyway. The Joker's eyes lingered on the scattered loot for a moment before he turned his attention back to the trembling figures before him.

A single shot rang out, reverberating through the alleyway with a deafening roar. Y/n's heart leaped into her throat, but to her relief, the bullet was aimed just past the men, a warning shot that sent them scrambling in a desperate bid for escape.

As the men fled into the shadows, Y/n watched in awe as the Joker stood victorious, his enigmatic presence commanding the darkness. In that moment, she couldn't help but feel a strange mixture of fear and gratitude toward the sinister figure who had intervened on her behalf.

Y/n's breath hitched as she watched the Joker step around her like a predatory cat, his movements unsettling. The sight of him crouched to retrieve the scattered money from the ground sent a shiver down her spine. She knew she couldn't afford to linger, the threat of her own demise looming like a dark cloud overhead.

Summoning every ounce of strength, Y/n pushed herself up from the ground, her body protesting with each movement. Pain flared through her limbs from the impact of the fall, but the urgency of the situation drowned out her discomfort.

"Where do you think you're off to, bunny?" the Joker's gravelly voice sliced through the air, sending a jolt of fear coursing through Y/n's veins.

She froze, her gaze locked on the Joker's figure as he deposited the money into her wallet. The mere sight of him instilled a primal fear in her, his unpredictability casting a long shadow over her trembling form.

The Joker's piercing gaze bore into her, demanding her attention. "I asked you a question," he repeated, his tone laced with a dangerous edge.

"M-my dorm," Y/n stammered, her voice barely more than a whisper.

The Joker's scarred lips curved into a sinister grin, his eyes gleaming with an unsettling intensity. "Without your wallet?" he inquired, his voice dripping with mock concern.

Y/n's heart raced as she struggled to find an answer, her mind racing with the implications of the Joker's words. In that moment, she realized that escaping the Joker's clutches might prove to be an even greater challenge than evading the men who had mugged her.

The Joker held her wallet up, a wicked gleam dancing in his eyes as he toyed with her. With trembling hands, Y/n reached out for the wallet, her fingers hovering uncertainly in the air. But before she could grasp it, the Joker's iron grip closed around her wrist, pulling her closer with a sudden, startling force.

A strangled cry escaped Y/n's lips as she was yanked towards the Joker, her mind immediately jumping to the worst possible scenarios.

"Is my little bunny hurt?" the Joker's voice rang out, his tone deceptively gentle as he inspected her injured palm.

Y/n's breath caught in her throat as the Joker's cold fingers traced the raw scrapes and bruises marring her skin, the gritty residue of stones and dirt clinging to the wounds. The contact sent a shiver down her spine, her fear magnified by the intimate proximity of their encounter.

The realization dawned on Y/n that she was utterly vulnerable, alone with the Clown Prince of Crime in the dim recesses of the alley. The terror that had gripped her at the bank now intensified tenfold, every instinct screaming at her to flee.

Yet, to her astonishment, the Joker's demeanor shifted unexpectedly. He tucked her wallet into his own pocket, much to Y/n's dismay. But instead of furthering her despair, he shrugged off his coat.

Y/n stiffened as the Joker draped the coat around her shoulders, the weight of the fabric heavy and thick. The gesture was unnerving, a stark contrast to the violence and chaos that had defined their encounters thus far. She stood frozen in place, her mind reeling with the unsettling realization that, in the twisted world of Gotham, even the most malevolent of figures could harbor empathy.

"Can't have my bunny freezing, can I?" The Joker's gravelly voice cut through the tense silence, his words tinged with an unsettling mix of concern and mockery.

Y/n stood frozen in place, her mind a whirlwind of confusion and disbelief. This unexpected act of kindness from the notorious Clown Prince of Crime felt like a twisted joke, leaving her at a loss for words.

Her thoughts spun in a dizzying whirl as she struggled to comprehend the surreal turn of events. Why was the Joker, of all people, extending such an unusual gesture towards her?

"As much as I'd love to walk you back to your dorm, I've got places to be," the Joker continued, his tone casual as he turned on his heel, his figure receding into the shadows of the alley.

“Goodbye, Bunny,” his voice echoed in the alleyway.

Y/n watched him go, a mixture of apprehension and curiosity gnawing at her insides. She couldn't shake the feeling of unease that clung to her like a second skin, her mind racing with unanswered questions.

Turning her attention to the coat draped around her shoulders, Y/n felt a wave of disorientation wash over her. It felt surreal to be adorned in the Joker's iconic attire, a stark reminder of the surreal encounter she had just experienced.

As she made her way home, the weight of the coat hung heavy upon her, its unfamiliar presence a constant reminder of the surreal chain of events that had unfolded in the dimly lit alley. Y/n prayed fervently that no one would recognize the coat she wore, fearing the inevitable questions and suspicions that would surely follow.

Each step felt like a surreal blur, the reality of the situation sinking in with each passing moment. Y/n couldn't shake the nagging feeling that her encounter with the Joker was far from over, his presence lingering in the shadows of her thoughts like a haunting specter.

A day had passed since that second encounter, yet Y/n still struggled to wrap her mind around the surreal turn of events. The Joker, of all people, had saved her. The very same man who had orchestrated a bank robbery only days before had intervened to rescue her from a potential mugging. It was a twist of fate that defied all logic and left Y/n grappling with a strange mixture of gratitude and disbelief.

As she gazed at the purple coat draped across her chair, Y/n couldn't help but feel a surge of conflicting emotions wash over her. The garment served as a tangible reminder of the unlikely alliance forged in the depths of Gotham's shadows, a silent testament to the bond she now shared with the Clown Prince of Crime.

It was a paradox that baffled her, and while the events of the past day had left her shaken and uncertain, one thing was clear. the Joker's actions had defied all expectations, leaving Y/n to grapple with the unsettling realization that perhaps, in the twisted world of Gotham, even the most notorious of villains could harbor a spark of unexpected humanity. Y/n couldn't shake the unease that gnawed at her, the weight of the garment heavy with unanswered questions.

What was she supposed to do with it now?

The thought lingered in her mind, casting a shadow over her already troubled thoughts. Would the Joker come looking for it? Or would it remain in her possession, a permanent reminder of the inexplicable bond forged in the darkness of Gotham's alleys?

Either scenario filled her with a sense of dread. The thought of the Joker tracking her down sent shivers down her spine, while the prospect of being forever tethered to the coat felt like a suffocating burden.

As fate would have it, the coat laying over her chair would soon be the least of her worries.

Upon returning to her dorm from a long day of lectures, Y/n's heart skipped a beat as she stepped into her room, greeted by the absence of the Joker's coat. Initially, the sight would have brought her immense relief, were it not for the unsettling realization that its disappearance hinted at a much more alarming reality that the Joker had been in her room.

A shiver traced its way down her spine as she scanned the room, her senses on high alert. With cautious steps, she made her way to her desk, her movements tense with apprehension. Flipping through the scattered belongings, she breathed a tentative sigh of relief as she realized that nothing appeared to be missing, well, aside from the mess she had inadvertently created.

But just as she began to relax, her eyes fell upon an unexpected discovery nestled within her drawer, a piece of paper adorned with a smudged smiley face, drawn in what looked like lipstick or face paint. With trembling hands, Y/n retrieved the paper, her heart pounding in her chest as she turned it over.

"Use the money, Bunny," the words scrawled across the paper sent a chill down her spine, the possible meaning of the message sinking in with a nauseating weight.

Fighting back a rising tide of panic, Y/n tentatively reached into the drawer, her fingers closing around the familiar wad of cash. Yet, to her astonishment, her touch encountered not one, but two bundles of bills, an unexpected windfall courtesy of the Joker himself.

The realization left her reeling, her mind spinning with disbelief. What did it all mean? And more importantly, what did the Joker want from her now? As she grappled with these unsettling questions, one thing was certain: the enigmatic Clown Prince of Crime had once again thrust her into the midst of his twisted game leaving her with a handful of cash and a trail of unanswered questions.

Once again, Y/n found herself walking down the Gotham's streets under the cloak of night, a decision she had sworn she wouldn't repeat after her previous night. Yet, the suffocating crowds of the city's daytime bustle left her feeling more vulnerable than ever, driving her back to the relative solitude of the nocturnal streets.

With her hands buried deep in her pockets, Y/n hurried along the familiar path to her usual convenience store, her steps quickened by a sense of urgency that seemed to permeate the very air around her. Despite the familiarity of the route, each shadow seemed to loom larger, every alleyway a potential trap lying in wait.

Finally reaching her destination, she breathed a sigh of relief as she confirmed that the store was indeed open this time, a small victory in the face of Gotham's relentless chaos. Snagging a couple of snacks, she wasted no time in completing her purchase before slipping back out into the night.

As she walked briskly down the dimly lit street, her senses on high alert, Y/n's heart skipped a beat as she neared an ominous alleyway, a dark abyss from which the muffled sounds of distress emanated. Her pulse quickened with apprehension, her instincts screaming at her to turn and flee.

With a sinking feeling, she realized that she was frozen in place, her feet refusing to carry her past the source of the chilling cries for help. And then, as if on cue, a desperate voice shattered the silence, cutting through the night like a knife.

"Help me!" the plea echoed through the darkness, sending a shiver down Y/n's spine.

Y/n's heart plummeted as the menacing figures in the alleyway pivoted to fix their gaze upon her, their predatory stares sending a chill down her spine. And then, as if materializing from the very shadows themselves, the unmistakable voice of the Joker sliced through the night air, his mocking tone dripping with sinister amusement.

"Well, well, if it isn't my Bunny," the Joker's voice rang out, a dark melody that sent a shiver down Y/n's spine. “We can’t keep meeting like this.”

Without a moment's hesitation, Y/n abandoned her purchases, her only thought to escape the clutches of the Clown Prince of Crime. With adrenaline coursing through her veins, she bolted down the streets of Gotham, her breaths ragged and panicked.

The cacophony of her own heartbeat drowned out all other sound, the pounding rhythm echoing in her ears as she careened through the streets. Her vision blurred with tears of fear and desperation, each stride carrying her farther from the looming specter of the Joker. It felt like everytime she left her dorm, she was being chased or attacked.

As she approached a bustling intersection, Y/n's resolve wavered, her frenzied mind teetering on the edge of recklessness. With a reckless abandon born of sheer panic, she made a split-second decision, her foot poised to step into the path of an oncoming car.

But just as she was about to leap into the unknown, a firm grip seized her hoodie, yanking her back with a jolt. She stumbled backwards, her heart pounding in her chest as she was pulled into the safety of the man's embrace behind her.

The adrenaline-fueled rush subsided, replaced by a wave of overwhelming relief as Y/n realized the gravity of the narrow escape.

"What, are you fucking crazy? Are you trying to get yourself killed?" the man's voice, tinged with exasperation, cut through the haze of panic.

Her skin still tingling with the remnants of fear, Y/n bristled at the accusation, her indignation rising in the face of the Joker's audacious presence. With a defiant shove, she attempted to break free from his grasp, only to find herself ensnared once more by the iron grip of the man behind her.

Y/n's voice quivered with fear as she pleaded for mercy, her words tumbling out in a desperate rush. "Please! I didn't see anything! I'm sorry!"

The Joker's gaze bore down upon her with an unsettling intensity, his eyes narrowing in confusion. Her eyes followed down his body to his other hand, her heart lurching in her chest as she caught sight of the glinting blade clasped within his grasp. With a strangled cry, she recoiled, the threat of violence hanging heavy in the air.

"Quit it with the screaming, okay!" the Joker snapped, his tone brusque as he silenced her.

Her breaths came in ragged gasps as she struggled to compose herself, her hands trembling with the weight of her fear.

"Don't hurt me, please..." Y/n's voice cracked with desperation, her plea hanging in the air like a fragile thread.

The Joker's response showed he was clearly irritated. "I'm not going to hurt you," he retorted, his tone dripping with annoyance.

Y/n's eyes widened in disbelief, her gaze darting to the glinting blade still held within the Joker's grasp. "You have a knife!" she pointed out, her voice trembling with apprehension.

The Joker waved her concern away with a dismissive flick of his wrist. "Forget about the knife," he declared, his attention already drifting elsewhere.

"What do you want from me?" Y/n's voice quivered with uncertainty, her gaze locked on the figure before her.

But the Joker merely chuckled, his response cryptic and evasive. "I popped by the other day. You weren't home so I just let myself in," he explained, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes at her incredulous expression.

"Yeah... I fucking noticed," Y/n retorted, looking at his purple coat.

The Joker's laughter filled the street at her remark, his amusement seemingly boundless. "How did you even get in?" Y/n demanded, her voice laced with a mixture of frustration and disbelief.

"With locks like those, it's hard not to," the Joker replied with a smirk, his gaze sweeping over her with a mixture of amusement and disdain.

"How did you even figure out where I lived?" Y/n pressed, her curiosity outweighing her fear.

But the Joker's response was infuriatingly vague. "Does it matter?" he quipped, his tone flippant as he dismissed her question with a wave of his hand.

Y/n felt frustrated as she realized the conversation was going nowhere. The Joker's vague answers only made her feel more uneasy.

"Why don't we walk back and grab your things, hmm?" the Joker suggested, his tone oddly casual despite the gravity of their situation.

Though wary of his intentions, Y/n reluctantly agreed, her steps hesitant as they set off together. But rather than walking alongside her as one might expect, the Joker lingered just slightly behind, a shadowy presence that loomed ominously in her peripheral vision.

Feeling the weight of his gaze upon her, Y/n came to a sudden halt, her unease bubbling to the surface. With a trembling voice, she addressed the Joker, her eyes fixed on the ground before her.

"Can you please walk beside me," she whispered, her words barely audible above the noise of the city.

The Joker's response was a flash of amusement, his grin spreading across his face like a twisted caricature.

"Aww, does the bunny want to hold my hand?" he teased, his voice dripping with mock innocence.

Y/n was taken aback as the Joker's gloved hand enclosed hers, his grip firm yet strangely comforting. With her heart racing, she found herself being led by the mysterious figure, a whirlwind of emotions swirling in her mind.

With every step, Y/n felt the Joker's imposing presence bearing down on her, making her feel suffocated. Despite feeling trapped, she had no choice but to accept the strange reality of their situation. She kept her eyes focused on the ground as they walked through the dimly lit streets of Gotham side by side.

As Y/n returned to the alley, she heaved a sigh of relief upon seeing her purchases relatively unscathed, their packaging intact. However, the same couldn't be said for the bag that once held them, it lay torn open, now unuseable.

Gathering her items into her arms, Y/n cast a wary glance down the alley, the eerie silence a stark contrast to the screaming that had driven her to flee in the first place. The unsettling thought made her stomach churn uncomfortably.

Beside her, the Joker stood with an air of nonchalant observation, his hands tucked into the depths of his trench coat pockets. With a snap of his fingers, he summoned two of his lackeys, who hurried to his side at his command.

"You got a bag?" the Joker asked, his tone tinged with impatience.

"Um, no boss," the two men replied in unison, exchanging a hesitant glance.

Clicking his tongue in frustration, the Joker's gaze flicked back to Y/n. "We can go grab you one if you need," one of the men offered.

"Forget it, just go sort that out and I'll meet you in an hour," the Joker dismissed them with a wave of his hand, gesturing down the alley.

As the men scurried off to comply with his orders, the Joker turned his attention back to Y/n, his gaze piercing. "Give me those," he commanded, snatching the food from Y/n's grasp before she could protest.

"I-I can—" Y/n attempted to speak up, only to be silenced by the Joker's sharp interruption.

"Quiet," he snapped, cutting her off with a steely glare.

Efficiently, the Joker began to stuff the items into his pockets, reserving the larger items like chips to hold in his hands.

"Now, let's get you back to your dorm, hmm?" the Joker suggested, turning to address Y/n once more, his demeanor unsettlingly calm amidst the chaos of the alleyway.

Reluctantly, Y/n nodded. She knew arguing with the Joker would only lead to more trouble, and she was already on edge from their encounter. Clutching the remaining items tightly to her chest, she followed the Joker as he led the way to her university hostel.

As they walked, Y/n couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the air. Every step felt heavy, weighted down by the knowledge that she was at the mercy of the Clown Prince of Crime. She stole glances at him from the corner of her eye, unable to decipher the enigmatic expression on his face.

The journey back to her dorm felt endless, each passing moment filled with tension and uncertainty. Y/n's mind raced with a myriad of questions, but she dared not voice them aloud, fearing the Joker's unpredictable response.

To her surprise, Y/n didn't need to initiate the conversation. "I'm guessing you still haven't touched my gifts," the Joker remarked, his tone casual yet tinged with annoyance.

Y/n furrowed her brow in confusion. "Gifts?" she echoed.

The Joker rolled his eyes in exasperation. "The money. The two bricks of money I gave you," he clarified impatiently.

A sense of unease crept over Y/n as she realized the gravity of the Joker's words. She hesitated, unsure of how to respond.

"I... no, I haven't used them," she admitted, her voice trembling slightly.

"Why not?" the Joker demanded, his frustration palpable.

"W-well, it's not really... my money," Y/n stammered, her nerves getting the best of her.

"Ahh, yeah it is... I gave them to you," the Joker countered sharply.

"I know that, but... it's illegal money," Y/n explained, her words rushed and hesitant.

The Joker scoffed, dismissing her concerns with a wave of his hand. "Have you seen this city? Everything here is illegal. Use the damn money," he insisted.

Feeling a knot form in her stomach, Y/n could only nod quickly in response, her mind reeling with the implications of the Joker's demands.

Finally, they reached the familiar entrance to Y/n's dormitory. With a sense of relief washing over her, she paused at the threshold, turning to face the Joker hesitantly.

"Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

The Joker reached into his pockets, retrieving the assorted treats he had hastily stuffed inside. With a flourish, he presented them to Y/n, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

The Joker offered her a cryptic smile in response, his eyes glinting with a hint of mischief. "Anytime, Bunny," he replied, before disappearing into the shadows with an unsettling grace.

Left alone in the quiet of the night, Y/n let out a shaky breath, her heart still racing from the encounter. As she stepped into the safety of her dormitory, she couldn't shake the feeling that this wouldn't be the last time she crossed paths with the infamous Joker.

Despite being accustomed to enduring long lectures in crowded rooms, they always seemed to take a toll on Y/n. Dragging herself back to her dorm, she could already feel the weight of exhaustion bearing down on her, her mind consumed by the anticipation of the nap she desperately needed.

As she unlocked the door and stepped inside her dorm room, her tired eyes widened in shock. There, sprawled across her bed in his unmistakable attire, was the Joker.

Her initial reaction was one of sheer terror, a scream escaping her lips before she could stop herself. Hastily, she clamped her hand over her mouth, her heart pounding erratically in her chest.

"Ah! You're back!" the Joker exclaimed, rising from her bed.

Y/n's mind raced, panic overtaking her ability to form coherent thoughts. She tried to back away, but found herself trapped against the closed door, her breaths coming in shallow gasps as she struggled to make sense of the surreal situation unfolding before her.

"Why are you here?" Y/n ventured, her voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

"I was in the neighborhood, thought I'd pay you a visit," the Joker replied casually, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

Y/n couldn't help but scoff inwardly at his flimsy excuse. It was clear to her that his sudden appearance had ulterior motives, but she kept her thoughts to herself.

"Don't you have crimes to commit?" she blurted out before she could stop herself, a wave of panic washing over her as soon as the words left her mouth.

To her surprise, the Joker's response was met with a sly grin rather than anger or offense. "Not for another few hours, Bunny," he quipped, his tone teasing.

Heat rushed to Y/n's cheeks at the familiar nickname, and she quickly averted her gaze, feeling a pang of embarrassment wash over her.

"Excuse me," she muttered softly, retreating to her bed and huddling against the headboard, her eyes fixed on the Joker as he settled himself at the opposite end of the bed.

As the Joker made himself comfortable, lounging against the wall with his legs crossed.

"Take your shoes off before you put your feet on my bed!" Y/n exclaimed, her voice betraying a hint of irritation.

With a grumble, the Joker complied, kicking his shoes off and allowing them to clatter to the ground. Y/n couldn't help but feel a surge of unexpected confidence at her boldness, silently thanking whatever higher power had spared her from the Joker's wrath.

Y/n found herself at a loss, her dorm now occupied by someone as unsettling as the Joker. She sat back, her gaze lingering on him uncertainly. She couldn't help but notice the scars marring his face, though she made a conscious effort to avoid dwelling on them for too long.

The scars, etched deeply into his skin, held a certain fascination for her. Even though she only caught a glimpse of the left side of his face, the wide, prominent scar demanded her attention. Despite her curiosity about their origin, she knew better than to broach the subject with someone as unpredictable as the Joker.

Suddenly, the Joker's gaze met hers, prompting her to quickly avert her eyes in embarrassment. "What are you looking at?" his tone sharp.

Y/n's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she mumbled an apology. "Sorry..." she murmured, her discomfort palpable in the air between them.

Y/n sensed movement from the corner of her eye as the Joker shifted onto his knees and crawled closer to her on the bed. Her heart pounded erratically in her chest as neared her.

"Is it the scars?" the Joker's voice cut through the tense silence, his tone deceptively innocent.

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to offend you," Y/n stammered, her apology laced with genuine remorse.

The Joker furrowed his brows in response, clearly taken aback by her unexpected apology.

"Here... Why don't I give you a better look?" Suddenly, he reached out and grabbed her face, his grip firm yet surprisingly gentle as he forced her to look at him.

Y/n squirmed in discomfort, but the Joker maintained his hold, his piercing gaze locking with hers. Despite her initial unease, her eyes were drawn not to his scars, but to his own intense gaze, filled with a complexity she couldn't quite decipher.

Y/n found herself captivated by the striking contrast of the Joker's eyes against the backdrop of his black face paint. They were a mesmerizing hazel, with hints of green around the edges, drawing her in like a moth to a flame.

"What are you looking at, Bunny? I thought you wanted to see my scars," the Joker remarked, his voice surprisingly soft.

Y/n blinked, momentarily taken aback by his unexpected question. She couldn't tear her gaze away from his captivating eyes.

"You have really nice eyes," she blurted out, the words escaping before she could stop them.

The Joker's lips curved into a faint smirk at her unexpected compliment. He released her face, withdrawing his hand as he settled back on the bed, his gaze still fixed on hers.

"Why, thank you, Bunny. I do try to maintain some level of charm," he replied, his tone dripping with amusement.

Y/n shifted uncomfortably under his intense stare, unsure of what to make of the strange dynamics between them. Despite the Joker's unsettling presence, there was an inexplicable magnetism that seemed to draw her to him.

As the silence stretched between them, Y/n couldn't help but feel a twinge of unease creeping back in. She cleared her throat nervously, searching for something to break the tension.

"So... why are you really here?" she ventured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Joker's response hung in the air. "I just like you," he hummed, his tone casual yet laden with a mysterious undertone.

Y/n couldn't quite decipher the meaning behind his words. Was he being genuine, or was this just another one of his twisted games? And even if he did mean it, what exactly did he mean by it?

Her mind raced with questions, but she found herself at a loss for words, unsure of how to respond to the Joker's cryptic declaration. The Joker's grin widened as he observed Y/n's perplexed expression. He seemed to relish in her uncertainty, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

"Don't worry your pretty little head about it, Bunny. Just enjoy the company," he said, his voice dripping with mock sweetness.

Y/n couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of her stomach. Despite the Joker's casual demeanor, there was an underlying sense of danger that lingered around him like a dark cloud.

She forced a weak smile, nodding in response, but her mind raced with a multitude of unanswered questions. As the silence enveloped them once again, Y/n couldn't help but wonder what other surprises the Joker had in store for her.

Y/n watched with curiosity as the Joker sauntered over to her shelf, his eyes scanning the various items displayed there.

"What do we have here..." His voice held a mischievous edge as he rubbed his hands together, clearly intrigued by the contents.

His gaze landed on the CD player, and a wicked grin spread across his face. "What does this little bunny like to listen to?" he mused aloud, reaching out to press the play button.

The familiar strains of music filled the room as the CD player came to life. Y/n recognized the song instantly, it was one she had been listening to earlier that day. The chorus of "Last Cup of Sorrow" by Faith No More filled the air

As the music filled the room, the Joker's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of mischief and madness. Without warning, he extended his hand towards Y/n, a silent invitation for her to join him.

"Come on, Bunny, don't be shy," he urged, his voice laced with excitement.

Y/n hesitated, her heart pounding in her chest as she weighed her options. But before she could respond, the Joker was already closing the distance between them, his hand gripping hers firmly as he pulled her towards him.

"Let's have some fun, shall we?" he said, his grip unyielding as he began to sway to the rhythm of the music.

Caught off guard, Y/n stumbled slightly, her movements awkward and hesitant. But Joker's relentless energy was infectious, and soon she found herself being swept up in the ood dance.

As they twirled and spun around the room, Y/n couldn't help but feel a strange sense of exhilaration mingled with fear. The Joker's laughter filled the air, echoing off the walls as they danced, a twisted symphony of madness and mayhem. And amidst the chaos, Y/n couldn't shake the feeling that she was being drawn deeper into the Joker's twisted world with each step they took.

"Bunny having fun, hmm?" Joker teased, his eyes alight with amusement as he watched Y/n begin to smile.

The contrast between this dance and their first encounter in the bank was stark. There were no hostages, no looming threat of violence, just the two of them, alone in her room, moving to the rhythm of her music.

"Such a pretty little thing when you smile," Joker remarked suddenly, his words sending a warm flush creeping up Y/n's cheeks.

Caught off guard by the unexpected compliment, Y/n felt a flutter of emotions swirling within her. Despite the chaos and danger that seemed to follow the Joker wherever he went, there was something strangely captivating about him in this moment, something that made her pulse quicken and her heart race.

As the song reached its climax, Joker twirled Y/n one final time, their movements becoming more frenzied and erratic with each passing moment. The room seemed to spin around them, the music echoing in their ears as they danced in a whirlwind of chaos and uncertainty.

With a dramatic end, Joker dipped Y/n backwards, her heart racing as she gazed up at him, their eyes locking in a moment of intense connection. For a fleeting instant, it felt as though time stood still, as though they were the only two people in the world.

But just as quickly as it had begun, the dance came to an abrupt end. Joker released his grip on Y/n, letting her fall. She screamed as the sudden pull of gravity yanked her downward, the impact jarring as she hit the floor. Pain shot through her body, but it was nothing compared to the surge of anger that flooded her veins as she looked up at the Joker.

"What the fuck, Joker?!" she exclaimed, her voice laced with fury and betrayal.

But the Joker simply grinned down at her, his eyes gleaming with mischief and amusement. "Oops, dopy me," he quipped, his tone infuriatingly nonchalant.

Y/n could do nothing but glare.

"Well, that was fun," he remarked casually, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "But I've got places to be, Bunny. I’ll be seeing you."

Y/n's heart sank as she watched Joker turn away from her, a pang of disappointment mingling with the lingering thrill of their dance. She wanted to say something, to protest or something, but she found herself speechless, unable to form the words.

With a final smirk over his shoulder, Joker disappeared out the door, leaving Y/n alone in the silence of her room. As she sat there, still thinking about him. The way he moved with her, it was unlike anything she had experienced before. In his arms, she didn't feel the familiar grip of fear tightening around her chest, instead, there was a sense of exhilaration, a rush of adrenaline coursing through her veins. Dancing with him was like stepping into another world, one where she could forget about her worries and simply be in the moment.

As they moved together in perfect synchronization, she couldn't help but feel a sense of happiness wash over her. It was as if the weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders, replaced by a buoyant feeling of joy and excitement. In that moment, there was only the music, the movement, and the electrifying connection between them.

For the first time in what felt like forever, she allowed herself to let go, to revel in the intoxicating thrill of the dance. And as they twirled and spun across the room, she couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, there was something special about the Joker after all.

It had been a few days since Joker had last visited her dorm room, and the memory of their dance lingered in Y/n's mind. She found herself constantly thinking about him and the strange encounters they had shared. As she lay in bed, contemplating the events of the past few days, she couldn't shake the feeling that fluttered in her stomach.

Late into the night, as the clock approached 11 PM, Y/n was just about to drift off to sleep when she heard movement outside her door. She let out a resigned sigh, assuming it was just some noisy neighbors from down the hall. However, her heart skipped a beat when her door swung open, revealing an unexpected visitor.

The creak of the door opening wide echoed through her room. She froze in her bed, the darkness of the room swallowing her up as she strained to see who had entered. Her mind raced with possibilities, but deep down, she knew exactly who it was.

The figure stepped into the room, the faint light from the hallway casting eerie shadows across the floor. Y/n's breath caught in her throat as she watched the silhouette move closer, her pulse quickening with each step. She couldn't make out his face in the dim light, but she didn't need to. She knew it was him.

"Miss me, Bunny?" his voice, dripping with mischief, filled the room, sending shivers down her spine.

Y/n flicked on her bedside lamp as Joker sauntered into the room, shutting the door behind him. "What the hell?" Y/n groaned, rubbing her eyes wearily.

Joker began rifling through her drawers, pulling out clothes and inspecting them before carelessly tossing them onto the floor. Y/n shot up from her bed and approached him, annoyance evident in her voice.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" she exclaimed, gesturing to the mess he was creating.

"Don't fret, Doll. Just for a nice little outfit for you," Joker replied casually, tossing another item aside with a nonchalant grin.

"Why?" Y/n questioned, her confusion evident.

"Because, Doll, you and I are hitting the town," Joker declared, holding up a shirt for inspection before tossing it onto Y/n's bed and moving on to her bottoms.

"But I have classes tomorrow, Joker," Y/n protested.

"Uh huh," Joker murmured dismissively, paying her complaint no mind as he continued his search.

Y/n rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Well, maybe if you actually went to university, you'd understand," she retorted, taking a jab at his unconventional career choice.

"I'm too old for uni, Bunny," Joker replied with a smirk.

"You're never too old to learn," Y/n shot back.

"Fucking nerd," Joker muttered under his breath, eliciting an eye roll from Y/n.

"What are you, 12? Get a better insult," Y/n retorted. "And I hope you don’t really expect me to go out with you."

"I'm taking you one way or another," Joker stated firmly.

Y/n wanted to stay mad, but her heart was pounding with excitement. The fact that Joker wanted to hang out with her felt monumental. Joker eventually found a skirt to pair with her shirt and tossed it onto the bed.

"Get changed," Joker commanded, already moving to fetch her some shoes.

"Don't tell me what to do," Y/n muttered under her breath.

Joker turned to give her an intimidating stare. Y/n stood up, reluctantly agreeing, "Fine, I’ll change, just get out while I do."

"You can change right here, Doll, I won’t peek," Joker assured her, smirking.

"I'm inclined not to believe you," Y/n replied.

Knowing he wasn't going to leave, she sighed and grabbed a bra to put on first.

"Oh, so I'm getting the full show?" Joker teased, making Y/n blush furiously.

"Stop being a weirdo," Y/n snapped, pulling her arms through her sleeves to put her bra on underneath her shirt.

Joker dramatically pouted while inspecting her shoes. Y/n managed to get the bra on and glanced at the clothes he had chosen. It was a nice see-through shirt with patterns on it and a black skirt, she liked his style.

She removed her top and started putting on the shirt, only to hear Joker wolf whistle. Her face couldn’t have been hotter at that moment.

"Stop looking!" Y/n yelled, quickly buttoning up the shirt.

She then put on the skirt with her pajama bottoms still on, making sure Joker didn't catch any more glimpses of her than she was comfortable with. Joker sauntered over to where Y/n sat, still in awe of his audacity. As she sat on the bed, shedding her pajama bottoms discreetly beneath her skirt,

"Nice legs," he remarked, a compliment she wasn't accustomed to receiving.

Joker's casual comment caught her off guard. "Um, thank you?" Y/n responded, unsure how to react.

With the shoes in hand, Joker approached Y/n once more. Just as she reached out to take them, he surprised her by crouching down before her, lifting her foot and resting it gently on his knee. It felt surreal, her mind momentarily going blank.

With deft movements, Joker slipped the shoes onto her feet one by one, securing the straps around her ankles. His touch was surprisingly gentle, the sensation of his leather gloves against her bare skin sending tingles down her spine.

Joker stood up, his hands clapping together sharply, breaking Y/n out of her trance. "Ready, Bunny?" he asked with a grin.

Y/n simply nodded in response. Before she could fully process what was happening, Joker grabbed her hand and pulled her up, leading the way to the door.

But Y/n halted them abruptly. "Wait, we can't just walk out there! Anyone could see you!" she protested.

Joker arched an eyebrow at her. "How do you think I got in, Doll?" he retorted, not waiting for her response as he dragged her out of the dorms.

As they walked, Y/n couldn't shake the rush of adrenaline coursing through her veins. Her eyes remained fixated on their intertwined hands, her wrist held firmly in Joker's grip. It was an oddly exhilarating sensation, one that left her feeling both thrilled and apprehensive.

The cold air and the bustling sounds of the city snapped Y/n back to reality. "Joker, wait..." she began nervously, catching his attention.

Joker turned to her, a hint of impatience in his tone. "What now?" he growled.

"I... I'm sorry, I don't want to go out," Y/n admitted, her voice trembling.

Joker noticed the change in her demeanor and softened slightly. "What's wrong, Bunny?" he asked, moving closer to her.

Y/n's hands shook visibly as she spoke. "I don't do going out. I don't do crowds. I don't do being outside my room," she confessed, avoiding Joker's gaze.

Leaning in, Joker lowered himself to her eye level. "Listen, Bunny. I'll keep you safe tonight. I'll make sure you're all comfy, and nobody will bother you. It'll just be us and a couple of the guys keeping watch. You don't have to worry about a thing. How does that sound?" he whispered reassuringly.

Y/n found herself gazing into Joker's eyes, their warmth contrasting with the hardness of his exterior. She couldn't shake the urge to see his face without the paint, though she knew it was a dangerous curiosity. Despite knowing who he was and what he did, she inexplicably trusted him.

Nodding slowly, she watched as a toothy grin spread across Joker's face. He took her hand once more, leading her toward a waiting van.

"Oh, this doesn't look dodgy at all," Y/n quipped as they approached.

Joker opened the back door for her to enter first. With a polite smile, she stepped inside, Joker following and closing the door behind them. Taking a seat, Y/n looked around the interior.

"Where's the seatbelt?" she asked.

"No seatbelts here, Doll," Joker replied casually.

"Well, you better hope I don't go flying off this seat, then," Y/n scoffed.

"If you feel unsafe, you can always hold onto me, Bunny," Joker suggested, his smirk making Y/n blush once more. "And besides... Rocco's a great driver, isn't that right?" he called to the front of the van.

"Uhhh... yeah, I'd think so, boss," came the hesitant reply from the driver's seat.

Y/n's attention was drawn to the presence of two men seated in the front of the van. They seemed to be keeping to themselves, occasionally exchanging glances in the rearview mirror but otherwise remaining focused on the road ahead as they pulled out of the parking space. Their silence added to the tense atmosphere inside the vehicle, amplifying Y/n's apprehension about the night ahead.

As the van rumbled through the dimly lit streets of Gotham, Joker leaned closer to Y/n, his breath tickling her ear.

"You nervous, Bunny?" he whispered, his voice sending shivers down her spine.

Y/n swallowed nervously, her eyes darting to the men in the front seats before returning to Joker's intense gaze. "A little," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Joker's lips curled into a sinister grin. "Don't worry, Doll. I'll make sure you have a night to remember," he promised, his tone dripping with mischief.

As the van continued its journey through the city's streets, Y/n couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at her insides. She glanced at Joker, trying to decipher his intentions from the mischievous glint in his eyes, but his expression remained inscrutable.

With each passing minute, Y/n's apprehension grew, but she knew it was too late to turn back now. She was along for the ride, wherever it might lead. She could only hope that Joker's promise of keeping her safe would hold true amidst the uncertainty of the night ahead.

"Now, Doll.. Where we’re going, I’m gonna need to bag you," Joker said, as he casually held up a burlap bag. Y/n felt a surge of anxiety at the sight.

"Wait, what's happening?" Y/n asked, her voice trembling with uncertainty.

Joker raised a gloved hand in a calming gesture. "Relax, Bunny. I told you I'd keep you safe," he reassured her.

Despite her apprehension, Y/n found herself complying as Joker placed the bag over her head, enveloping her in darkness. She couldn't shake the feeling of fear that gripped her tightly as she waited in the unknown.

In the darkness beneath the bag, Y/n felt Joker's firm grip on her wrist as he guided her out of the van. With the van door opening, she was enveloped in a swirl of uncertainty. She hadn't dared to glance out of the tinted windows during the drive, leaving her completely at Joker's mercy.

As they walked, Y/n could feel the ground beneath her shift from rough pavement to a smoother surface, indicating they were inside a building. The silence around her was deafening, leaving her unable to decipher their location. Joker's grip on her wrist remained tight, guiding her with purpose through the mysterious space.

Just as Y/n's mind raced to make sense of the situation, she heard footsteps approaching them. "Your table is ready, sir," a quivering voice spoke, sending shivers down her spine.

Joker's grip tightened on her wrist as he pulled her along, and she strained to understand the significance of the words. Soon, they approached a second door, which opened before them. As they stepped through, the door closed behind them, enveloping them in an eerie silence that amplified Y/n's anxiety.

As they stepped into the room, the unmistakable sound of Faith No More filled the air, instantly recognizable to Y/n's ears.

As the bag was lifted from her head, Y/n blinked in the sudden light, her eyes adjusting to the scene before her. Before her stood Joker, a mischievous grin on his face as he stepped back to reveal a table set with napkins, candles, and cutlery.

"Ta-da!" Joker announced, spreading his arms with theatrical flair.

In the room, aside from a few strategically placed plants and the central table, there was no one and nothing else present.

"W-what's going on?" Y/n questioned, her voice trembling with uncertainty.

Joker rolled his eyes before pulling out a chair for her. She settled into the seat as he took his own across the table.

He grabbed one of the menu set in the middle of the table. "Pick anything you like, Doll," Joker chimed in, his eyes scanning the list of options.

Y/n took her own menu, her gaze drifting over the choices as she contemplated her selection.

Y/n glanced around the dimly lit room, her curiosity piqued by the ambiance Joker had created. The flickering candles cast dancing shadows on the walls, adding to the mysterious atmosphere.

"What's the occasion?" Y/n asked, unable to suppress her curiosity any longer.

Joker chuckled softly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Just wanted to take the little Bunny out," he replied, flashing her a grin.

Y/n raised an eyebrow, a hint of skepticism in her expression. Despite her reservations, there was something undeniably intriguing about this impromptu dinner with the Joker.

“What? Is this a date or something?” Y/n's question hung in the air, laced with a nervous chuckle. She couldn't help but feel a mix of curiosity and apprehension about the situation.

Joker's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "If you want it to be, Doll," he replied, leaning back in his chair.

Y/n felt a rush of conflicting emotions. The idea of a date with the Joker was equal parts thrilling and terrifying. Y/n felt a wave of shyness wash over her, her cheeks flushing with warmth as she fidgeted with the menu in her hands. Every glance at Joker sent a flurry of butterflies fluttering in her stomach, making her feel more flustered with each passing moment. She struggled to maintain eye contact, her heart racing as she tried to compose herself in his presence.

"So! What's it gonna be, Doll?" Joker asked, leaning forward slightly, his eyes fixed on hers, waiting for her to tell him her order.

Y/n hesitated, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement. She glanced down at the menu, trying to focus on the options in front of her. Finally, she made her choice and looked up at Joker with a tentative smile.

"I'll have the... um, the chicken alfredo, please," she said, her voice a bit softer than usual.

Joker stood up from his seat with a smirk and walked over to the door, opening it just a crack. He exchanged a few hushed words with one of his men outside before closing the door again, returning to Y/n sitting at the table.

As Joker returned to the table, the realization dawned upon her, Y/n understood the purpose behind the burlap bag and the secrecy. Joker was safeguarding her identity, shielding her from any potential trouble that could arise if her association with him became known. She appreciated his gesture, despite the unconventional means.

"So, uh, thanks for this... dinner," Y/n said, feeling a bit awkward but genuinely appreciative of the gesture.

Joker flashed a grin, his eyes sparkling mischievously. "Anything for my favorite Bunny," he said, leaning back in his chair with a casual air.

Y/n couldn't help but smile at his reply. She still couldn't quite wrap her head around the enigmatic nature of their relationship, but for now, she decided to enjoy the moment and the unexpected dinner date with the notorious Joker.

As the evening progressed, Y/n found herself surprisingly at ease in Joker's company. His charismatic demeanor and witty banter kept her entertained throughout the meal, and she couldn't deny the allure of his unpredictable charm.

Between bites of food and sips of wine, they engaged in lighthearted conversation, sharing stories and exchanging laughs. Despite the peculiar circumstances of their encounter, Y/n couldn't deny that she was enjoying herself, relishing the novelty of the experience.

As the night wore on, the initial tension that had enveloped Y/n began to dissipate, replaced by a growing sense of camaraderie with the man sitting across from her. It was a strange sensation, considering who he was, but she couldn't deny the genuine connection that seemed to be forming between them.

Eventually, the meal came to an end. Joker reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of bills, tossing them onto the table without a second thought.

"Let's get out of here, Bunny," he said, rising from his seat and offering his hand to Y/n.

She hesitated for a moment before putting on the burlap bag again and placing her hand in his, allowing him to lead her out of the restaurant and into the night once again.

As they stepped out into the cool night air, Y/n couldn't help but feel a sense of exhilaration tinged with apprehension. She was stepping into the unknown, guided by a man whose intentions remained shrouded in mystery.

Joker led her back to the van and took off the bag. Without a word, he gestured for Y/n to climb in, and she obliged, settling into the seat beside him. The van rumbled to life, and they began their journey through the city once more.

As they drove, Y/n's mind raced with questions, but she held her tongue, unsure of how much she dared to ask. Instead, she gazed out the window, watching the lights of Gotham blur past as they navigated the labyrinthine streets.

Eventually, they arrived back at Y/n's dorm, and Joker brought the van to a stop. He turned to her, his eyes glinting in the darkness.

"Well, Bunny, it's been a pleasure," he said, his voice laced with a hint of mischief.

Y/n nodded, a mixture of relief and reluctance swirling within her. She knew she should be wary of him, but there was something undeniably compelling about the enigmatic man beside her.

"You're not going to walk me back?" Y/n said, surprising herself with her sudden burst of confidence.

Joker's smirk widened as he stepped out of the van. "Couldn't say no to you," he replied casually.

Together, they walked in silence, the air thick with unspoken tension. Y/n stole glances at Joker, trying to decipher the enigmatic expression on his face. She couldn't quite shake the feeling that there was more to him than met the eye.

When they reached her dorm room, Joker stopped and turned to face her. "Well, here we are," he said, his tone tinged with a hint of amusement.

Y/n nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. She wasn't sure what to say, but she found herself reluctant to part ways with him.

"Thanks for... everything," she finally managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper.

Joker flashed her a grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Anytime, Bunny," he replied before turning on his heel.

As Joker turned back to leave, Y/n's heart raced with a sudden impulse. "Wait!" she called out, her voice echoing in the quiet night.

Surprised, Joker turned back just as Y/n rushed up to him, her hand reaching for his. Without a second thought, she pulled him close and pressed her lips against his, feeling the cool touch of his greasy face paint against her skin. Despite the unconventional sensation, she relished the moment, savoring the feel of his scars beneath her touch.

Caught off guard by Y/n's sudden kiss, Joker froze for a moment before melting into it, his surprise giving way to something more akin to amusement. As they parted, he flashed her a grin, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Well, well, Bunny," he chuckled. "Seems like you've got some surprises up your sleeve too."

Y/n felt a rush of warmth at his words, a mixture of nerves and excitement coursing through her veins. But before she could respond, Joker's expression shifted, his gaze darting around as if sensing something amiss.

With shaky steps, she turned and hurried back towards her dorm, her heart still pounding in her chest. Each step felt heavier than the last, her thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and excitement.

As she reached her door, she fumbled with her keys, her hands trembling with nervous energy. Finally unlocking the door, she practically stumbled into her room, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

Leaning against the door, Y/n let out a shaky breath, her cheeks flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and exhilaration. She couldn't believe what had just happened, the kiss still lingering on her lips like a bittersweet memory.

Feeling a rush of emotions, she sank down onto her bed, burying her face in her hands. It was all so overwhelming. As the reality of her actions sunk in, Y/n's mind raced with a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts. She had just kissed the Joker, arguably one of the most dangerous and unpredictable individuals in Gotham City. It was a reckless move, one that could have dire consequences.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she replayed the moment in her mind, the feel of his lips against hers, the roughness of his scars. It was surreal, almost like a dream, and yet, it had happened.

But along with the rush of adrenaline came a wave of uncertainty and fear. What would happen now? Would the Joker seek her out again? And if he did, what would he want from her?

Y/n shook her head, trying to push away the barrage of questions crowding her mind. For now, all she could do was wait and see, her heart still racing from the daring act she had just committed.

Y/n knew it was a terrible idea to go out the night before. She had endured three consecutive two-hour lectures, running on a mere five hours of sleep. Exhaustion weighed heavily on her as she trudged back to her dorm, fantasizing about the blissful nap awaiting her.

Y/n's exhaustion seemed to fade away as she caught wind of the conversation in the common room. Curiosity piqued, she quickened her pace, eager to hear more about the news report.

"Holy shit, turn up the TV," one of her fellow students exclaimed.

"Infamous criminal, Joker, was seen last night with an unknown woman, entering a restaurant," the news report blared from the television.

Y/n's heart skipped a beat as she absorbed the information. Anxiety gnawed at her as she contemplated the implications of being linked to such a notorious figure. Standing in the doorway, Y/n listened intently to the news report echoing from the common room.

The news report continued, "The sighting has sparked widespread speculation about the identity of the mysterious woman seen with the notorious criminal. Eyewitnesses claim the woman appeared to be in her early twenties, possibly younger, but her face was obscured by a bag as they entered the restaurant. Authorities are urging anyone with information about this incident to come forward."

Y/n's heart raced as she realized the gravity of the situation. She had been seen with the Joker, and now her anonymity was at risk. She knew she had to be more cautious than ever before.

The news report continued with a solemn tone, "In a chilling turn of events, just hours after the sighting, reports flooded in of a violent attack attack against several political figures late last night, with witnesses describing the perpetrator as none other than the Joker himself. It was described as a chaotic scenes as the Joker and his accomplices unleashed mayhem in the heart of the city, targeting high-profile individuals attending a gala event."

Y/n's stomach dropped as she listened to the horrifying news. She couldn't believe she had been with him just hours before, completely unaware of his plans. Fear and guilt gripped her as she realized the danger she had unwittingly placed herself in by associating with the Joker.

Y/n felt a wave of nausea wash over her as the reality sank in. The man she had shared a meal and a moment with had gone on to commit atrocious acts of violence. The guilt weighed heavy on her conscience as she rushed to her room, seeking solace in solitude. Each step felt heavier than the last, burdened by the knowledge of her unwitting association with a criminal of such magnitude. She couldn't shake off the feeling of disgust and betrayal, retreating into her room to grapple with her tumultuous emotions alone.

Y/n was overwhelmed by a mix of regret and disbelief. How could she have been so reckless as to kiss someone without truly knowing who they were? She cursed herself for her naivety and ignorance, realizing that she had allowed herself to be drawn into the orbit of a dangerous individual. From that moment on, she vowed to steer clear of any further association with him, determined to distance herself from the enigmatic figure who had deceived her so thoroughly.

A few days passed, and Y/n tried her best to put the incident behind her. However, her resolve was put to the test when, one evening, there was a knock on her dorm room door. With a sinking feeling in her stomach, she approached cautiously, heart racing as she wondered who could be on the other side. Opening the door tentatively, she was met with the unmistakable figure of the Joker, standing there with his characteristic grin.

"Happy to see me, Bunny?" The Joker's voice was laced with amusement as he stood casually in the doorway, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

Y/n's heart skipped a beat as she took in the sight of the Joker standing at her doorstep. She hesitated, unsure of how to react, but before she could say anything, he pushed his way into her dorm room with that ever-present smirk on his face.

"I got you a little something," Joker announced, producing a bouquet of flowers from behind his back. The contrast between the bright, colorful blooms and his dark, enigmatic presence sent a shiver down Y/n's spine.

"J-Joker... You shouldn't be here," Y/n stammered, her voice trembling as he pushed the bouquet of flowers into her hands.

The Joker merely chuckled, unfazed by her unease. "There's a lot of things I shouldn't do, Doll. But here I am," he retorted, ignoring her plea.

"You can’t be here… Please, just go," Y/n pleaded again, her eyes pleading with him to understand.

Joker's expression softened slightly as he noticed the tears welling up in Y/n's eyes. He took a step closer, but she instinctively backed away, her fear palpable.

"Bunny, what's wrong?" Joker's voice was surprisingly gentle, a stark contrast to his usual demeanor.

"I just... need some time alone," Y/n replied, her voice barely above a whisper, her emotions too overwhelming to articulate.

Joker hesitated for a moment, his eyes scanning Y/n's face as if searching for answers. Finally, he nodded slowly, acknowledging her request.

"Alright, Bunny. I'll leave you be," Joker said softly, his voice carrying a hint of concern.

Y/n watched as Joker turned to leave, his presence disappearing from her dorm room. Alone once again, she sank onto her bed, clutching the bouquet of flowers tightly against her chest as tears began to fall freely.

She grappled with conflicting emotions, torn between the fear of what Joker might do if he discovered the truth and the guilt of rejecting his gesture of kindness. The bouquet of flowers lay on her bed, a poignant reminder of the tangled mess she found herself in. Y/n felt trapped, uncertain of how to handle the situation she was in.

As Y/n made her way back to her dorm, an unease settled over her. Another week had passed since Joker visited her. Every shadow seemed to harbor a lurking threat, and she quickened her pace, eager to reach the safety of her room. However, her apprehension only intensified when she was stopped by someone from her floor.

"Got yourself a boyfriend or something, huh?" the girl asked with a knowing smirk.

Y/n's confusion deepened. “Uhh.. No," she replied cautiously.

The girl nodded toward Y/n's dorm room. "Guess you've got a secret admirer then," she said before walking away.

Heart pounding, Y/n approached her door and froze at the sight before her. Another bouquet of flowers, even larger than before, greeted her, accompanied by a playing card resting beside it. As she reached for the card, her fingers trembled, and she turned it over to reveal the unmistakable image of a joker.

Her breath caught in her throat as she stood frozen in the doorway, her eyes widening in disbelief. The sight that greeted her inside was both stunning and terrifying. Flowers, dozens of them, filled her room, arranged in an array of colors and shapes.

Y/n stumbled forward, dropping the bouquet she held in her trembling hands. As she surveyed the room, her heart hammered against her chest. Four bouquets adorned her desk, their vibrant hues contrasting sharply with the pale surface. Another three lay scattered across her bed, their delicate petals casting shadows in the dim light. And yet more flowers, at least twenty, were strewn haphazardly throughout the room, their sweet fragrance mingling in the air.

Fear clenched at her insides as she realized the implications of this gesture. Y/n stood there, stunned by the sheer extravagance of the display. Never before had anyone shown her such generosity or tenderness, and coming from someone like the Joker, it only meant trouble.

Given the fact that this man killed for a living and enjoyed it, receiving such affectionate gifts from him carried a weighty significance. It hinted at a depth of feeling and a seriousness in his affection that Y/n found both bewildering and unsettling.

Inspecting her desk, Y/n noticed several scattered playing cards, one of which bore writing along the face of it. She picked it up and read the message: ‘Sorry I couldn't give these in person, Bunny. Hope you're feeling better.’ Beneath the message, there was a small doodle of a bunny.

The message offered little comfort, especially considering the likelihood that Joker had likely gone on to commit some heinous act afterward, perhaps even something as dreadful as blowing up a school bus.

Y/n found herself utterly lost, grappling with a sense of powerlessness. Yet, she knew she couldn't afford to succumb to fear any longer. Having the Joker show up uninvited was no longer an option. The next time she saw him, Y/n knew she had to put a stop to this.

Despite the danger of navigating Gotham's streets at night, Y/n had grown accustomed to it. It was a routine she had mastered, whether it was grabbing late-night essentials from the convenience store or simply wandering the dimly lit alleys. But tonight was different, tonight, she felt the presence of danger looming around every corner.

As she hurried along the deserted streets, Y/n couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched. Every shadow seemed to conceal a hidden threat, every flicker of movement sent a jolt of apprehension through her veins. But deep down, she knew that somehow, some way, her path would intersect with the Joker's once again.

Tonight was the night in which Y/n would confront Joker and declare what ever was happening between the two of them would not happen again.

Y/n's mind was occupied as she walked along the sidewalk, her thoughts consumed by the upcoming confrontation with the Joker. Suddenly, a group of men passed by, one of them coming to an abrupt halt.

"Hey... I know this chick," he exclaimed, pointing directly at Y/n.

Startled, Y/n turned to face them. "Excuse me?" she replied, her voice tinged with apprehension.

"Yeah, you're the one who put us in the shits with the Joker," another man chimed in, his tone accusatory.

Recognition dawned on Y/n as she realized who these men were. Y/n's horror deepened as she recognized the men who had attempted to mug her when the Joker intervened in that dark alley. The memories flooded back, vivid and unsettling.

As the men closed in on her, memories of that terrifying encounter surged through Y/n's mind. She instinctively stepped back, trying to distance herself from the group, but they closed in, their faces contorted with malice.

"Should've kept your mouth shut back then, girlie," one of them snarled, shoving her roughly.

Y/n stumbled backward, her heart racing with fear. She knew she was in trouble, trapped in this menacing situation with no one to help her.

“B-but… I didn’t s-say anything. It wasn’t my fault..” Y/n’s eyes welled with tears.

As the men continued to harass her, Y/n's mind raced, searching desperately for a way out. She knew she couldn't take them on physically, but she had to find a way to escape. With each push and taunt, her fear turned to determination.

Suddenly, a voice cut through the tension like a blade. "Ah, the old, familiar places.."

Y/n's heart skipped a beat as she recognized the voice. It was him. The Joker.

As soon as the Joker's voice rang out, the men froze in terror, their faces paling. Without hesitation, they turned to flee just as they did last time, but before they could take a step, two of Joker's henchmen emerged from the shadows and grabbed them, preventing their escape. The men struggled against the firm grip of Joker's men.

"Bunny, Henshaw over here will escort you back to the van. I've got some unfinished business to attend to," Joker declared, his gaze fixed on the trembling men.

Y/n felt a mix of relief and fear as one of Joker's men, presumably Henshaw, firmly grasped her shoulder and led her away from the scene. She cast a nervous glance back at Joker, unsure of what was about to unfold. Y/n watched as Joker took something from his coat, likely a knife, and moved towards the first man.

"I suggest you look away," Henshaw advised, gently nudging her towards the van.

Feeling a knot form in her stomach, Y/n obeyed, knowing it was wise to heed his warning as the piercing screams pierced the air behind her.

Sitting in the back of the van, Y/n's breaths came in heavy, her hands trembling as the screams echoed outside. She pressed her hands against her ears, trying to block out the horrifying sounds. In the front seat, Henshaw shifted uncomfortably, glancing back at her.

"Uhh... You want me to put on the radio?" Henshaw offered.

Y/n nodded, grateful for any distraction. Henshaw fiddled with the radio, but even the music couldn't drown out the haunting echoes of agony. Y/n felt utterly helpless, unsure of what to do in such a harrowing situation.

Y/n's heart pounded with conflicting emotions. On one hand, she had achieved her goal of finding Joker, but the situation had spiraled out of control. He was out there, committing acts of violence in her name. While she couldn't deny that those men probably deserved it, she couldn't shake the feeling of unease and guilt.

Tonight was supposed to be about confronting Joker and ending whatever twisted connection they had, but now he was killing people for her. The thought of facing Joker now filled her with dread. Would he turn his rage on her next and kill her, or would he simply make her life a living hell? Y/n had no answers, only fear and uncertainty about what lay ahead.

As Y/n grappled with her conflicting emotions, another wave of realization hit her. Despite the chaos and violence that seemed to follow him wherever he went, Joker had shown her a side of himself that she had never experienced before with anyone else. His gestures of affection had left a lasting impression on her, stirring feelings she had never known.

She couldn't deny the way her heart raced in his presence, or the warmth that spread through her when he treated her with tenderness. Joker made her feel special in a way that no one else ever had, and that made her dilemma even more agonizing.

Lost in her thoughts, Y/n was jolted back to reality when the van door was pulled open, revealing Joker standing there. Behind him lay the aftermath of his violent confrontation, a grim reminder of the darkness that lurked within him. As he closed the door, Y/n couldn't help but feel a sense of dread wash over her, uncertain of what would come next.

As Joker settled into the seat across from her, the tension in the van seemed to thicken. Y/n's heart pounded in her chest, her mind racing with a multitude of conflicting thoughts and emotions.

Joker's gaze met hers, and for a moment, there was silence between them. Y/n couldn't bring herself to break the silence, unsure of what to say or how to address the situation unfolding before her.

Finally, Joker spoke, his voice low and measured. "You okay, Bunny?" he asked, his tone surprisingly gentle given the circumstances.

Y/n swallowed hard, her throat feeling dry. "I... I don't know," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Joker's expression softened slightly, and he reached out to gently squeeze her hand. "You don't have to be scared, Doll," he said reassuringly. "I'll always keep you safe."

Despite his words, Y/n couldn't shake the unease that gnawed at her. She knew that being involved with Joker meant being thrust into a world of danger and chaos, and she wasn't sure if she was ready to face the consequences.

But as she looked into Joker's eyes, she couldn't deny the strange pull she felt toward him, the inexplicable connection that seemed to draw her closer to him with each passing moment. Whether it was the thrill of danger or something deeper, Y/n couldn't say for certain.

“You have something to say..I can tell,” Joker's voice was rough and impatient, cutting through the tense silence that hung between them.

“You don't know me that well,” she replied, her voice trembling slightly as she tried to muster up the courage to confront him.

Joker raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable as he regarded her. She could feel the weight of his gaze bearing down on her, making her feel small and vulnerable.

“Listen, Bunny. I ain't known for my patience, so you better start tal—” Joker's words were abruptly cut off by Y/n's confession.

“I don't want you to visit me anymore,” she blurted out, her voice barely above a whisper as she struggled to meet his gaze.

The air in the van seemed to grow heavy with tension as Joker's expression shifted, a dangerous glint entering his eyes. Despite her fear, Y/n stood her ground, her heart pounding in her chest as she awaited his response.

“What did you say, Bunny?” Joker's voice was deceptively light, but the intensity behind his words sent a shiver down her spine.

“I-I don't think you should visit me anymore,” Y/n stammered, her voice trembling with uncertainty.

“Think or want, Doll. Make up your mind,” Joker's tone was mocking, his words laced with an underlying threat that sent a chill down her spine.

As the two men in the front of the van stepped out, leaving them alone, Y/n felt a sense of dread wash over her. She knew she had to stand her ground, to assert her boundaries, no matter the consequences.

“This can't happen anymore,” she stated firmly, her voice quivering with emotion.

“This, what is this,” Joker's question hung in the air, his eyes boring into hers as if searching for the truth hidden within her words.

“I don't know! I don't know what this is, but whatever it is can't happen anymore!” Y/n finally snapped, her frustration and fear bubbling to the surface as she confronted the enigmatic man before her.

Joker's gaze bore into Y/n, his eyes flickering with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine. She could feel the weight of his presence pressing in on her, his very aura demanding attention and compliance. Joker's demeanor shifted, his previously calm facade cracking as he leaned in closer, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

"You're telling me to stay away?" he asked, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down Y/n's spine.

For a moment, there was a tense silence between them, broken only by the distant sounds of the city outside the van. Y/n's heart hammered in her chest, her nerves on edge as she awaited Joker's response.

"I... I can't do this anymore," Y/n stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's too much. I can't."

“You don't get to decide that, Bunny," he said, his words laced with a hint of menace.

Y/n recoiled slightly, her fear mounting as she realized the gravity of her words. She had never seen Joker like this before, and the sight sent a chill down her spine.

Joker's expression hardened, his features twisting into a mask of barely contained fury. "You think you can just walk away from me?" he spat, his voice dripping with venom.

"I-I can't do this anymore, Joker, please!" she stammered, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and defiance.

Joker's lips curled into a predatory smirk, sending a chill down Y/n's spine. "You knew what you were getting into when you kissed me, Doll," he said, his tone dripping with dark amusement. "You can't just walk away now."

Y/n's eyes brimmed with tears, her voice trembling with emotion. "Y-you don't understand, Joker... I'm scared!"

"Of what, Bunny? I ain't touched you," Joker retorted, his tone flippant as he dismissed her fear.

"B-but what if you do? You just killed a group of men outside! How am I any different?" Y/n cried out, her voice breaking as she struggled to contain her fear. "For fuck's sake! You're a criminal, being near you is illegal!"

"Bunny, you need to listen to me right now," Joker said, dropping to his knees before her, gently cradling her face in his hands.

"I would never touch a hair on your body that you didn’t want me to," Joker assured her, his gaze unwavering. "And the law? Pft! Forget about it... This city was fucked before I came along. Now, I'm having a play."

Y/n's lip quivered as she absorbed his words.

"And I'll make sure they never lay a finger on you... Imma keep my little Bunny safe," Joker murmured, his voice surprisingly tender.

Overwhelmed by emotions, Y/n burst into tears, collapsing into his chest. Joker enveloped her in his arms, offering comfort. In that moment, she surrendered to her feelings. Despite her efforts to deny it, she couldn't deny the pull she felt towards Joker. She had never experienced such emotions before, and she was unwilling to let go of them now.

As Y/n's tears subsided, she felt Joker's grip loosen. He pulled away slightly, cupping her face in his hands and wiping away her tears with his thumbs.

"You're safe with me, Bunny," Joker reassured her, his gaze soft yet intense.

Y/n nodded, feeling a mix of relief and uncertainty wash over her. She knew she was diving into dangerous waters by allowing herself to be drawn to Joker, but at that moment, she couldn't deny the undeniable connection between them.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Joker planted a sloppy kiss on her forehead, his touch surprisingly tender as he rubbed her arms with his gloved hands. Y/n felt a rush of warmth and comfort flood her senses, despite the chaos surrounding them.

"Let's get you home, Bunny," Joker said softly, his voice carrying a sense of reassurance that eased her anxieties.

She realized that whatever unfolded between them would likely be filled with danger and uncertainty. Yet, in that moment, she found herself surprisingly unfazed by the prospect. The way he made her feel was unlike anything she had experienced before, and for her, that was enough.

For better or for worse, she had chosen to embrace the chaos, to walk alongside the Joker, wherever their twisted journey might lead them.

A/N: So yeah, this story became way more cuter than I anticipated and hoped for..oops. I originally wanted this to be more dark and shit with more of the stalker-y kinda shit but I kinda got distracted..by bad So if yous want some more Joker but more unhinged and less cute shit, feel free to request and I may or may not be in the middle of writing a Joker fic that is a bit Dead Dove 👀 (I say may because I have no idea when I will finish writing it) Also, I was listening to Faith No More while writing this, so that's why I added them here. Slay But thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed. 💚

#fanfic #dc joker #health ledger joker x reader #ledger joker x reader #the joker #heath ledger #heath ledger joker #the dark knight #the dark knight trilogy #batman #batman joker #joker x reader #reader insert #reader with anxiety #ooc joker #ooc

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trendywaifus · 30 days

Text

cw: fem! reader, reader works for pubsec, slightly suggestive but it’s just fluff, mentions of one night stands, i swear it’s mutual

—can’t quit you, you’re like drugs !

you rouse from your slumber, lazily moving a hand over your eyes to block out the early sun from getting into them as warm shades of yellow pour through the slightly opened blinds. a soft yawn leaves your lips and you turn to your side, subconsciously stretching your arm out for a certain woman who spent one of many nights with you. once feeling the warm, empty space beside you, you sighed with defeat. what did you expect? that woman always sneaks off and leave before daybreak. you don’t really expect her to stay and it wasn’t like you were in a romantic relationship with the criminology consultant. your interactions with her is purely sexual and full of one night stands.

were you satisfied with that? not really. her touch still tingles on your skin, leaving behind an invisible print that’s starting to find its way under your skin and seep into your bones, softening them. the sweet promises and honeyed words she’d whispered into your ear still stays in your mind, floating around like a cloud. “ don’t tell me i. .” you don’t finish your sentence and ran a hand through your tousled locks.

“ oh, i didn’t expect you to be awake this early, pretty. “ a saccharine voice giggles as the rat thiren saunters into your bedroom, wearing one of your cotton white robes that loosely hugs her well-endowed figure. her fluffy, saber hair is beautifully messy. her feline teal eyes softens with amusement at the puzzled look on your face.

“ well jane, i usually get up around this time. but i didn’t expect you to be, well— “

jane finishes your sentence smoothly as she walks over to the bed and sits down on the soft mattress,“ here? usually i get called a little early than this but, the timing seems to be different this morning. “

“ i can see that. “ you mutter, “ but why are you still here? “

she chuckles, grabbing her compact vanity mirror to check herself out. she uses the mirror to fix her bed head, smoothening out the wild strands with her hand.“ i just told you, silly girl. what, you don’t want me here? aww, i’m hurt. “ you can’t tell if she’s offended or not but you fall for it anyways.

you stammer, “ i-i do—that’s not what i meant! i mean regardless if they haven’t called you for a new case to operate on yet, i’m saying why are you still here with me? i assume you have things to do and you seem to be a very busy woman. “

jane titters, closing her compact vanity mirror and places it on the nightstand. “ i’m not as busy as you might think, “ there’s a fond glint in her eyes as she lays down with you, propped up on her side. her long tail sways in a relaxed manner while she speaks honestly, “ i’m just a woman who does side jobs. when you call, i beckon. “

“ yeah, at night. “

she merely smiles, resting her cheek against her palm while her hand reach out to brush the strands of hair away from your eyes. her gesture was affectionate and gentle, inducing a warm feeling inside your belly. “ it doesn’t always have to be that way, darling. things doesn’t have to be strictly sex. truthfully, i want more but i’m just being patient due to our demanding work field. “

you fall silent, processing her words. your gaze pools into hers, searching for any signs of deceit. jane doesn’t shy away from your skeptical gaze, instead, she challenges it. her lips spreads wider, her upper, subtle rat-like incisor teeth peeking through her easy smile. after a few moments of staring, you finally broke the eye contact with a shy expression marinating on your face. at least you know you’re not the only one who got attached.

“ . . .i also wa—“

a melodic ringtone from your phone abruptly cuts you off. you sigh with annoyance, reaching over to grab your phone from the nightstand on your side. “ it’s seth. “ you grumble, (e/c) eyes glossing over the caller id.

“ oh, that cat boy? i met him during my last case, he’s quite. . “

“ the naive hero boy. i know, that boy’s my partner. give me a moment jane.”

you answer the call, bringing the device to your ear. “ hey kiddo, you need something? “ you ask sweetly, ignoring jane’s fingers idly playing with your free hand.

“ uh, good morning (name)! i don’t mean to bother you but captain zhu yuan is requesting your presence for an emergency meeting she’s holding in two hours. “

huh? “ emergency meeting in two hours? ugh, does that woman know i’m off today? what’s it about, seth? “ you groan.

“ w-well, it’s about the new missing person cases that’s been increasing recently. there’s been a report of a group of college students going missing around the metro station just last night. there’s also been a immediate search party team sent out to look for them all over the area and around the city but nothing came out of it! “

your eyes widen in shock. jane, who can hear your conversation, hums in surprise.

“ that’s ridiculous! and nobody found them? i’ll be over there in an hour, don’t worry. i’ll see everyone when i get there, yeah bye. “ you ended the call with a heavy sigh.

“ that’s quite the emergency you got there. I heard about those cases in my department, it seems to have gotten worse in just under a week. “ jane notes with concern in her voice, watching as you sat up against the headboard, hugging the covers over your chest.

“ i’m sorry jane, it seems like i’m the one that has to be leaving early. we can continue our previous conversation sometime tonight or after the meeting. “ you cast her an apologetic look, reaching out to grab her hand and squeezed it. she shakes her head, bringing your hand up to her lips and kissed one of your knuckles. “ it’s fine, i’m actually expecting an agent to call me about it too. “

you shake your head with disapproval. “ wh-what? they shouldn’t be hiring consultants when people are going missing! we don’t even know who’s causing this—that’s like using you as bait! when seth explained me to what that razor guy had done to you a few days ago after the operation, i honestly was ready to lose my position over you. ”

jane blinks in shock, taken back by how much you truly care about her. her ears flutter, siren green eyes turning almost doe eyed. the earnest look in your eyes reminded her of seth when he stood up for her against razor. was everyone in the criminal investigation response team so honest? she recovers, chuckling at your confession.

“ you really are a sweetheart. you actually do care about me, huh? “ she tease with a mischievous smirk, you roll your eyes.

“ of course i do, i don’t just have consistent sex with someone i don’t care about, jane. “

“ is that so? maybe i should of figured that out a lot sooner when you’d always want me to kiss you after i ate—“

you abruptly cut her off, “ please woman. i’m trying to be serious here. anyways, “ you gently free your hand from hers and cradle her cheek with your palm. the rat thiren instinctively lean into your tender touch, soft turquoise hues staring into your own. “ if you feel like you’re in any danger that you can’t get out of, don’t hesitate to contact me personally at any time. if you can’t contact me, i’ll find you myself. i know that you’re amazingly strong and you can hold your own but that doesn’t mean i don’t want to prevent the chances of you getting hurt if i can. i can’t stand someone i love risk their life, that’s why i became an officer. “

you seal your words off by placing a passionate kiss on her plump lips. jane immediately kiss back with just as much ardor. you feel a smile press against your lips but you don’t pull away—you don’t pull away until your lungs are screaming for oxygen. finally, you break the kiss and rest your forehead against hers. jane whispers her promise back to you,“ and if you need me, i’ll be there for you too. even if we’re in different divisions and departments, i have my ways of coming out of the shadows to help you even when you at least expect it. “

#trendy #jane doe x reader zzz #jane doe x reader #zzz women x reader #zzz x reader #zenless zone zero x reader

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moonselune · 3 months

Note

Idea! Romanced Companions reacting to a shapeshifter attempting to seduce tav. Only when they transform to what tav is most attracted to, It's literally just an exact copy of whoever tav romanced

Something possessive jumped out of me when I was writing this so might be slightly different to what was expected hehe

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach:

Karlach was engrossed in a lively conversation with Wyll, her laughter ringing through the campfire-lit clearing. Their discussion about battle tactics and recent victories was abruptly interrupted when Karlach noticed a stranger approaching you. Instinctively, her hand moved to the hilt of her axe, her keen eyes narrowing with suspicion as the figure drew closer.

To her astonishment, the stranger transformed right before her eyes, taking on Karlach's own form. Anger flared within her as she watched the audacious shapeshifter assume her likeness in an attempt to seduce you. With a growl of displeasure, Karlach stepped between you and the imposter, towering over them with her imposing presence.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing?" she barked, her voice cutting through the air like a whip. She pointed a finger at the shapeshifter, her stance unyielding.

The shapeshifter stammered, clearly caught off guard by Karlach's fierce reaction. "I-I was just…"

"You were just making a big mistake," Karlach interjected, her tone low and dangerous. "There's only one Karlach, and you're looking at her, in all her glory. Get lost before I make you regret it."

With that, the shapeshifter wisely chose to retreat, disappearing into the shadows of the camp. Karlach turned to you, her expression softening as she approached, her arm wrapping protectively around your shoulders.

"You alright, babe?" she asked, concern evident in her voice. "Don't let these idiot cultists get to you."

You nodded, feeling a rush of gratitude for Karlach's fierce loyalty. "I'm fine," you assured her, leaning into her comforting embrace.

She brushed a stray lock of hair from your face, her touch gentle yet reassuring. "Good," she murmured, her fiery eyes meeting yours. "You're mine, and no one's going to mess with that."

Despite the intensity of the moment, a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "Let's get back to Wyll," she suggested, her voice returning to its usual strength. "He's probably lost without my expert advice."

As you walked back together, her arm still securely around you, you couldn't help but marvel at Karlach's protective nature and the depth of her affection. It was moments like these that reminded you just how fortunate you were to have her by your side, fiercely guarding your heart against any who dared to challenge her claim.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Shadowheart:

Shadowheart knelt by the campfire, her brow furrowed in concentration as she tended to her wounds from the day's battle. The air around her was tense with the aftermath of combat, yet she remained focused on her task. Her keen senses alerted her to movement, and she looked up sharply to see a figure approaching – a figure that soon transformed into an exact replica of herself.

Her eyes widened momentarily in surprise, then narrowed with suspicion and barely restrained fury. Shadowheart stood up swiftly, her hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of her dagger, her grip tightening with resolve.

The shapeshifter, now wearing Shadowheart's form, approached you with a disarming smile. "I know what you truly desire," they whispered, their voice honeyed with deceit as they closed the distance between you.

Shadowheart's voice cut through the air like a blade of ice. "You think you can deceive me?" Her tone brooked no argument as she stepped decisively between you and the impostor, her posture defensive and protective.

The shapeshifter faltered, caught off guard by Shadowheart's unwavering composure. "I-I can be what they want," they stammered, attempting to maintain their facade.

"You are nothing but a cheap imitation," Shadowheart hissed, her dagger gleaming in the firelight as she held it steady, a silent threat. "Begone, before I decide to end you."

Realizing the danger, the shapeshifter hastily retreated, their illusion shattered by Shadowheart's unwavering determination. Once the threat had dissipated into the darkness of the camp, Shadowheart turned to you, her stance relaxing slightly though her guard remained.

"Are you alright?" she asked, her voice softer now, filled with genuine concern. She reached out tentatively, as if uncertain of your reaction, yet her touch conveyed reassurance. "I won't let anyone come between us."

You nodded, grateful for Shadowheart's swift protection and unwavering loyalty. "I'm fine," you replied, feeling a rush of relief at her comforting presence.

She nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Good," she murmured, her gaze meeting yours with a depth of emotion that spoke volumes. "You're safe now."

As you stood together in the quiet of the camp, the warmth of the fire casting flickering shadows around you, you couldn't help but admire Shadowheart's strength and resolve. Her fierce protectiveness, combined with her vulnerability in moments like these, made you realize just how deeply she cared. In her own quiet way, she had shown you once again that you were not alone in this journey – that she would always stand by your side, ready to defend you against any threat, real or illusionary.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion:

Astarion reclined near the crackling campfire, idly sharpening a dagger with precise strokes when his keen senses alerted him to an approaching figure. His sharp eyes narrowed with suspicion as he watched the stranger draw nearer, then gasped in disbelief as the figure transformed seamlessly into an exact replica of himself, down to the smug curve of his smirk.

The shapeshifter approached you with a confident stride, mirroring Astarion's sultry charm with unsettling accuracy. "Isn’t this what you desire?" they purred, their voice a distorted echo of Astarion's own, as they trailed a finger provocatively down your arm.

Astarion's amusement quickly turned to indignation. He sprang to his feet, dagger flashing in his hand as he closed the distance in an instant. "Flattery will get you nowhere, darling," he drawled, his tone laced with a dangerous sweetness that belied his lethal intent.

The shapeshifter blinked, clearly caught off guard by Astarion's swift reaction. "But I thought—"

"You thought wrong," Astarion interjected smoothly, pressing the dagger's tip against the shapeshifter's throat with a precise and threatening grace. "Leave now, before I make you regret ever coming here."

Realizing the gravity of the situation, the shapeshifter hastily retreated, their illusion shattered by Astarion's unwavering determination. Once the threat had evaporated into the shadows of the camp, Astarion turned to you, his expression softening as he approached with a hint of concern in his eyes.

"Are you alright, my dear?" he asked softly, his usual teasing edge softened by genuine worry. "I can't have anyone thinking they can replace me."

You chuckled softly, reassured by his protective instincts and touched by his genuine concern. "I'm fine," you assured him, reaching out to squeeze his hand in gratitude for his swift defense.

Astarion smirked, the tension easing from his shoulders as he returned the squeeze. "Good," he murmured, a playful glint in his eyes returning. "After all, no one can match up to the original, can they?"

He leaned in closer, his voice lowering conspiratorially. "Though I must admit, seeing someone try to mimic my irresistible charm is quite flattering."

You rolled your eyes fondly, unable to resist teasing him back. "Oh please, you love it when someone tries to be as devilishly handsome as you."

Astarion chuckled, the tension of the moment dissipating into playful banter between the two of you. With his arm now draped casually around your shoulders, you felt a rush of warmth and reassurance. Despite the danger that had briefly intruded upon your camp, you knew you were safe in Astarion's capable – and occasionally teasing – hands.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Gale:

Gale sat cross-legged on a weathered log, deep in thought as he pored over the ancient tome spread out before him. The soft glow of arcane symbols illuminated his face, casting shadows that danced across the campsite. His scholarly reverie was abruptly shattered by the approach of an unfamiliar figure. His sharp intellect registered the anomaly before his eyes widened in disbelief as the figure transformed into an exact replica of himself, down to the intricate patterns of magical tattoos that adorned his skin.

The shapeshifter, now wearing Gale's form, exuded confidence as they strode towards you with a disarming smile. "I can be everything you need," they declared, their voice carrying the cadence of Gale's own scholarly certainty, reaching out as if to draw you closer.

Gale rose to his feet in one fluid motion, arcane energy crackling around his fingertips. His expression hardened with resolve as he stepped decisively between you and the impostor, his stance authoritative and protective. "This ends now," he stated firmly, his voice carrying the weight of command.

The shapeshifter blinked, momentarily taken aback by Gale's sudden assertiveness. "But I thought—"

"You thought wrong," Gale interrupted, his tone unwavering. "There is only one Gale, and you are not him."

With a flick of his wrist, Gale conjured a swirling vortex of arcane power that surged towards the shapeshifter, compelling them to retreat hastily, their illusion shattered. Once the threat had dissipated into the night, Gale turned to you, his features softening with genuine concern.

"Are you alright, my love?" he asked tenderly, his scholarly demeanor momentarily replaced by a gentler expression. "I can't have anyone thinking they can replace me."

You nodded, touched by Gale's protective instincts and grateful for his swift defense. "I'm fine," you assured him, stepping closer and reaching out to place a reassuring hand on his arm.

Gale's gaze softened further, his lips curling into a small, relieved smile as he covered your hand with his own. "Good," he murmured, his voice a quiet reassurance. "After all, there's no duplicating true scholarly prowess."

He chuckled softly, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes as he glanced back towards where the shapeshifter had fled. "Though I must admit, seeing someone attempt to replicate my intricate tattoos is rather amusing."

You couldn't help but smile back, grateful for Gale's steadfast presence and the depth of his affection. As you stood together amidst the lingering traces of magical energy, you knew that no matter the challenges that lay ahead, Gale would always be there – both scholar and protector, steadfast in his love for you.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Wyll:

Wyll sat cross-legged near the edge of the camp, his skilled hands methodically polishing the blade of his rapier. The glint of the campfire danced off the silvered steel, casting a flickering light over his focused expression. His senses on high alert, he noticed a figure approaching—a stranger whose form shifted before his eyes into an exact replica of himself, scar over the eye and all.

His grip tightened instinctively on the hilt of his rapier as he stood up, muscles tensing beneath his leather armor. His brows furrowed with suspicion as he took in the audacity of the shapeshifter's deception. "What kind of trickery is this?" Wyll demanded, his voice cutting through the quiet of the night like a blade of ice.

The shapeshifter, now wearing Wyll's form, smiled with an unsettling familiarity, attempting to mimic Wyll's charismatic charm. "I thought you might appreciate a familiar face," they said smoothly, extending a hand towards you in a gesture of false intimacy.

Wyll stepped forward, his posture protective and resolute as he positioned himself firmly between you and the doppelganger. "There is only one Blade of Frontiers," he declared sternly, his gaze unwavering. "And it’s certainly not you."

With a swift, practiced motion, Wyll unsheathed his rapier, the blade catching the firelight as he leveled it at the impostor with unwavering precision. "Leave now," he commanded, his tone brooking no argument, "or face the consequences."

Realizing their ruse was exposed, the shapeshifter hastily retreated into the darkness, their illusion shattered by Wyll's steadfast resolve. Once the threat had dissipated, Wyll turned to you, his demeanor softening as he sheathed his rapier and approached with gentle concern.

"Are you alright, love?" he asked tenderly, his usual confidence softened by genuine worry. He reached out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face, his touch warm and reassuring.

You nodded gratefully, comforted by Wyll's protective presence and touched by his unwavering loyalty. "I'm fine," you reassured him, offering a small smile to ease his concern.

Wyll returned the smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners with a mixture of relief and affection. "Good," he murmured softly, his hand lingering on yours as he squeezed it gently. "You know I'll always have your back."

As you stood together in the quiet of the camp, the crackling of the fire providing a backdrop to your shared moment, you couldn't help but feel a surge of admiration for Wyll's courage and dedication. His swift defense against the shapeshifter had not only protected you physically but reaffirmed the depth of his love and commitment. In his arms, you knew you were safe and cherished—a feeling that strengthened the bond between you, forged amidst the trials of your journey together.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Lae'zel:

Lae'zel's keen eyes scanned the perimeter of the camp with hawk-like intensity, her warrior's instincts finely attuned to any potential threat. When she spotted the approaching figure, her gaze narrowed with suspicion, and her grip tightened instinctively on the hilt of her sword. Her initial curiosity turned swiftly to ire as the figure transformed before her eyes into an exact replica of herself, mirroring her fierce demeanor and steely resolve.

The shapeshifter, now wearing Lae'zel's form, approached you with bold confidence, their voice echoing Lae'zel's commanding tone. "You know you can't resist me," they purred, their eyes fixed on you with unsettling intensity.

Lae'zel surged forward in an instant, her blade drawn and poised for battle. "You dare to mock me with this charade?" she spat, her voice laced with barely contained fury.

The impostor recoiled, caught off guard by Lae'zel's swift and ferocious response. They attempted to retreat, but Lae'zel pursued relentlessly, slashing at them with calculated precision. "There is only one Lae'zel," she declared fiercely, her strikes relentless and unforgiving. "And you are not worthy to even speak my name."

With a final swipe, the shapeshifter narrowly escaped, fleeing into the darkness with their illusion shattered by Lae'zel's unyielding determination. Once the threat had dissipated, Lae'zel turned to you, her expression softening marginally as she sheathed her sword and approached with a rare display of vulnerability.

"You are mine," she stated firmly, her voice holding a mixture of possessiveness and protectiveness. "Do not forget that."

You nodded, touched by the depth of Lae'zel's loyalty and the fierceness of her defense. Her unwavering commitment to your safety and her intense dedication resonated deeply, forging a bond between you that transcended words. As you stood together amidst the quiet of the camp, the tension of the encounter giving way to a sense of solidarity, you knew that with Lae'zel by your side, no challenge could threaten your connection or your shared journey ahead.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Minthara:

Minthara's keen eyes swept the campsite with a vigilance honed by years of command, her gaze piercing through the shadows to spot the approaching figure long before they neared you. As the shapeshifter transformed into an exact replica of Minthara herself, duplicating her sharp features and the cold disdain in her eyes, Minthara's lip curled in unmistakable contempt.

The shapeshifter, now wearing Minthara's form, approached you with a calculated mimicry of her icy charm. "You know you desire me," they whispered seductively, their voice carrying the chilling allure that Minthara wielded like a weapon.

Minthara stepped forward with swift, purposeful strides, her presence imposing and her expression stone-cold. "You are a poor imitation," she hissed, her hand drifting to the hilt of her weapon. "And I do not tolerate pretenders."

The shapeshifter's facade wavered under the intensity of Minthara's glare, their confidence giving way to uncertainty. "I-I can be whatever they want," they stammered, attempting to salvage the illusion.

"You will never be me," Minthara snarled, her blade drawn now and pressed against the shapeshifter's throat with lethal intent. "Leave," she commanded, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, "and pray I do not hunt you down."

With a final, chilling warning, the shapeshifter fled, their deception exposed and their retreat hastened by the threat of Minthara's wrath. As the tension of the encounter ebbed away, Minthara turned to you, her demeanor softening imperceptibly but significantly.

"You belong to me," she stated quietly, her voice a rare blend of possessiveness and vulnerability. "And no one else."

You nodded, feeling the weight of Minthara's protectiveness and the depth of her commitment. Her fierce defense of your bond left an indelible mark, solidifying the strength of your connection amidst the trials of your journey together. As you stood together in the aftermath, the firelight casting flickering shadows over the camp, you knew that Minthara's unwavering devotion would always be your steadfast anchor in the tumult of your shared adventures.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Halsin:

Halsin knelt by a wounded animal, his hands tender and skilled as he tended to its injuries with the gentle touch of one intimately familiar with the ways of nature. His brow furrowed slightly as he sensed a disturbance, his keen senses detecting the subtle shift in the camp's atmosphere. Rising slowly, his movements deliberate yet fluid, he observed with a mixture of concern and determination as the figure in the distance transformed seamlessly into a perfect replica of himself.

The shapeshifter, now wearing Halsin's form, approached you with a disarming smile that attempted to mimic Halsin's warmth and wisdom. "I know what you like," they murmured softly, stepping closer with unsettling familiarity.

Halsin's voice resonated with quiet authority, his tone carrying the weight of years spent attuned to the natural rhythms of the world. "This deception will not stand," he declared firmly, his eyes unwavering as he moved closer to intercept the impostor.

Caught off guard by the real Halsin's presence, the shapeshifter faltered, their illusion cracking under the intensity of Halsin's gaze. As the druid's form shifted seamlessly into that of a bear, a low, menacing growl rumbled through the clearing, sending the impostor recoiling in fear.

The shapeshifter abandoned their facade in a panicked retreat, fleeing from the camp with the echo of Halsin's protective wrath still ringing in their ears. Returning to his elf form, Halsin approached you with a calm reassurance, his hand coming to rest gently on your shoulder.

"You are safe with me," he murmured softly, his voice a soothing balm against the lingering unease of the encounter. "Do not let such trickery disturb you."

You nodded, grateful for Halsin's stalwart presence and the steadfast comfort he offered in the face of uncertainty. His unwavering commitment to your well-being and his innate understanding of the natural world were pillars of strength that grounded you amidst the shifting tides of adventure and intrigue that defined your journey together. As you stood together in the tranquil aftermath, the bond between you strengthened by each shared trial, you knew that with Halsin at your side, there was nothing you could not face with courage and resilience.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Hope y'all like it - Seluney xx

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birthing1020 · 3 months

Note

🤰🏽1️⃣🩺💦💧⌛ she falls for the midwife during labor

Tags: female, singleton, water birth, orgasmic birth, overdue, falls for the midwife, birth center.

Julie was 42-weeks pregnant with her first baby, she wanted to labor at a birthing center. The support and guidance of a midwife would be plentiful for her, considering this was the pregnancy of a one night stand, she was going to need all the support she could get.

Her tight and constricted belly made her shiver as a breeze touched her skin, she waddled into the center, wanting to go into labor as soon as she could, the weight of this belly and baby make her easily uncomfortable. She walked to the front desk and checked-in, the feeling and comfort this center provided was already a home feeling and she couldn’t wait to progress her labor here.

They guided her and her bags to a room where one of the midwives was preparing the birthing pool, she has always had a curiosity with women - already feeling a strong attraction with this midwife, she couldn’t tell if it was the hormones doing this to her, but she would do anything to speed up what she was about to go through. The receptionist shut the door behind Julie, allowing her to get undressed to begin the process.

“You must be Ju—.” The midwife cut off her sentence as she watched this overly pregnant woman take her clothes off, she nodded with her head covered by her shirt as she pulled off the fabric. Her perky and full breasts bouncing on the fabric of her shirt. “Yes, that’s me! Can we begin this? I’m ready to do anything to get this baby out.” She cooingly rubbed her belly as her nipples hardened, the midwife nodding quickly as she knew what kind of birth this would be.

~~~~~~~~~~

Several hours had passed and light conversation had occurred, the two getting somewhat handsy with each other before the contractions began to really show themselves. Nipples were played with and sucked on, breasts were grabbed at with belly rubs. The progression went to Julie squatting and kneeling in the pool, she rocked her hips forward as each contraction had passed. Every couple minutes, they were definitely getting stronger but her water had not broken yet.

“Ohhh.” The laboring mother moaned out, she leaned back against the pool with her legs spread. It was abruptly met with a slow and sensual kiss from the midwife, soft lips both meeting each other before breasts were touched and squeezed at. The midwife knew that sexual acts progressed labor and that’s what they intended to do here, neither woman denied the kiss. Soft and quiet moans filled the air before Julie whimpered into her mouth, another tight contraction rippled through her belly.

“Let’s get this going, honey.” The midwife muttered against her mouth before pulling away. Her hand slowly but surely moved its way down to her slippery cunt, both females clearly turned on by what was happening. She cupped the laboring and bulging folds, a finger slipping in as she rhythmically circled her achy clit. Leaving soft kisses down Julie’s neck, she couldn’t help but hear the laboring mother pant — either from the pain, pleasure or both.

Julie obliged from the sensation and opened her legs further, her hips rocking forward as she fucked this females hand. Moans and grunts filled the air of the room, before she pulled the midwife’s hand out of her most achy area. She let out a deep groan, fluids running down her legs as the labor had progressed to the next stage.

“Oh — my water!” She clenched her belly from the pain and grunted. “When you feel the need — push sweetie.” The midwife encouraged the last stage of this birth, she reached over and grabbed a silicone device and switched the vibrations on. She guided her hand to the laboring woman’s cunt as she placed it directly along her clit.

~~~~~~~~~

Julie threw her head back and gripped her thighs, spreading them further. The motion only pushing the toy into her further. “Oh my!” She exclaimed and braced herself as she felt the baby shift down her canal, the pain only increasing as this was the last stage - just a few pushes.

“I can feel her!” She grunted and squeezed her eyes shut, practically prying her thighs open. “That’s it honey, you gotta push for me. Push that baby out of your wet and achy little hole, you have to stretch it out.” She pushed the toy in further and that’s all it took.

“I’m gonna cum!” Julie moaned and almost screeched out loud. She began pushing as she came hard around the device, the head slowly crowning and everything plopped out of her overstretched hole at once.

#preggophilia #labor kink #birth kink #preggo kink #giving birth #maieusiophilia #birth meme

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cxrrodedcoffin · 3 months

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Is it Casual Now? (Part 2) - Jennifer Jareau

Likes are always appreciated but reblogs and feedback keep artists going!

This is part 2! It can be read as a standalone as PWOP but part 1 adds context to certain references & the ending. Part 1 can be read here.

Summary: Reader overhears a conversation between JJ and Morgan and wonders what she is to JJ.

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: I’ve been listening to Casual by Chappell Roan too much lately and this is what happens when I do that. This is an AU where JJ and Will are divorced, no cheating occurs.

TW: established relationship, dom!jj, fem + afab reader, use of “girl” in reference to reader, oral sex, fingering, penetration (by a strap, sometimes referred to as cock), slight degradation, praise kink, pet names, engagement announcement

Rating: R (this is almost all smut lol)

——

JJ pulled your hands away from the towel, letting it slip to the floor and leaving you completely bare as she pulled you by the waist to press her body against yours.

The stiff cotton of her white button up created a friction against your chest that had your nipples hardening, your hands working quickly to undo each button of the shirt in hopes of feeling her skin against yours.

You broke the kiss to look down at what you were doing, panting to catch your breathe as your brow furrowed, growing frustrated by the task at hand.

“Need help baby?” She laughed, taking over for you and making it look almost effortless. She shrugged the shirt off her shoulders, reaching behind her back to undo her bra, finally exposing her perfect breasts. Your hands quickly cupped them, pulling her back into the kiss.

Her hands worked their way over your body, fingers ghosting down your waist before her hand found your cunt, fingers dipping into your folds to feel the wetness pooling between your thighs. She broke the kiss this time, watching your features as her finger found its way to your clit, rubbing firm circles against your sensitive bundle of nerves. You gasped, rutting your hips forward to match her movements. You let yourself give into the pleasure for a moment before your hunger kicked in, your hand gripping her wrist and pulling her from you.

You moved to undo her slacks, letting them drop to meet the messy pile of clothing on the floor before pushing her back until the back of her thighs hit the edge of the bed.

“Someone’s eager.” She breathes, positioning herself further up on the edge of the bed.

“I need you.” You practically moan, more desperate than you’ve ever felt before.

Your hands grip her hips, fingers hooking into the waistband of her underwear before tugging them down, letting her kick them off as she spreads her legs. You drop to your knees, ready to dive in when you feel her fingers tug on your hair, abruptly stopping you. You look up at her doe-eyed, brow furrowed in confusion.

“What do you need?” She questioned, knowing how crazy being this close to her cunt without being able to touch would drive you. You whine, growing impatient as you tried to look down at her heat, but her grip held your gaze on hers.

“Use your words.” Her tone is firm this time, looking you directly in the eye.

“Need to taste you.” You whine, frustration building, your lips curling into a slight pout.

“You’re lucky you look so pretty like this, I usually don’t let pathetic brats eat me out.” She cuts, tugging your head back to expose your neck a little more.

“I’m sorry, I just want to show you how much I love you.” You whimper, eyes glazing with the threat of tears.

“My sweet girl, how can I possibly say no to that?” She eases her grips, guiding you to her center, fingertips gently massaging your scalp as you finally lay your tongue flat against her heat. You moan against her, the familiar taste of her arousal getting you drunk like your favorite wine. You lap at her, tongue surveying her folds until you meet her clit, already swollen and waiting for your touch. You gave gentle flicks with the top of your tongue, taking your time to work her up even further.

“No teasing.” She groaned, gently gripping your hair.

You listened, getting to work applying firm pressure with every movement of your tongue, closing your lips around the sensitive bud to suck in just the way you know she loves. Her moans grew louder as she began to grind her hips against your face, and you knew she was close. You brought your index and middle fingers to her entrance, sinking into her wet heat to massage her velvet walls, trying your best to bring her the release you so desperately wanted to provide her after shutting her out all day.

“Right there, such a good girl.” Her breathy moans were music to your ears, spurring you on. You increased your speed, curling your fingers up against the soft spot inside of her that drove her wild, finally feeling her hips begin to stutter against you. She moaned your names, probably a little too loud given that the team was on the other side of the thin walls of this hotel, but neither of you cared as she rode out her high, her walls contracting around your fingers in a death grip.

You slowly removed your fingers, pulling away to look up at her, making hazy eye contact as you sucked her milky cum off of your digits. She brushed a strand of hair away from your face, smiling softly at you.

“You did so good, angel.” She praised, her tone almost sickeningly sweet.

She moved to get up from the bed, walking over to her bag.

“I have something for you, but I need you to get on the bed and close your eyes, okay?” She asks, waiting for your nod of understanding and your eyes to close before pulling her harness out of her bag and securing it around her hips.

You felt the bed dip, her weight shifting as you could feel her settle between your legs.

“Open.” She commanded, her hand resting on your thigh.

Your lids fluttered open, eyes widening when you saw the strap situated against her hips.

“Did you bring that? What did the agents say when they checked your bag?” You asked, slightly stuttering over your words.

“I started keeping one in my bag because I know you love it when I use it on you, I don’t care what anyone else thinks. Besides, the screening team knows better than to ask too many questions about my personal items.” She explained, and you almost felt silly for asking. At this point you should’ve known how one of her death glares would shut anyone up, what surprised you was how she had your pleasure in mind even when you were away from home.

“That makes sense, thank you for thinking of me.” You always felt so vulnerable under her, and now was no different.

“I’m always thinking of you.” She sighed, shifting over you, placing her left arms beside your head. Blush crept over your cheeks at her words, feeling so loved in that moment.

“Are you ready?” Her question breaking the silence. You nod, spreading your legs wider to give her ample space. She reached down, holding the base of the dildo and slapping it against your clit a few times, each hit sending a jolt of warmth through your cunt. You began to whine, growing increasingly needy as she ran the cock through your folds, coating it in your arousal.

She locked eyes with you, lining the tip up with your entrance before slowly sliding in, allowing you to adjust to the size of the toy. Each inch had you whimpering, your hand moving to hold hers, fingers intertwined.

When she was fully situated inside of you she paused, pulling you into a kiss before starting a steady pace pumping in and out of you. Your moans slipped out against her lips, each sound motivating her to drive harder into you.

“You're taking my cock so good, angel.” She praised, sending a shiver down your spine.

Her free hand hooked behind your knee, lifting your leg to rest it against her shoulder, the new angle heightening the sensation of her rutting into you. Her thumb found your clit, rubbing firm but gentle circles over it in tandem with the pace of her thrusts, the lewd sound of skin slapping and your overwhelmed whimpering filling the room.

“Mm gonna cum!” You cried, trying your best to hold it back as the tightening coil in your abdomen threatened to snap.

“Do it angel, show me how good I make you feel.” She encouraged, quickening her pace and drinking in the sight of your tits bouncing with each of her thrusts. Her approval was all you needed, relaxing into the rush of euphoria washing over your body, your grip on her hand tightening as you cried out.

“JJ!” Was the only coherent thing that left your lips, sounded by exhausted moans. She slowed her pace, still rocking into you to help ease you down from that incredible high.

You laid there spent, half-heartedly whimpering at the loss as she pulled completely out of you, too blissed out to protest.

“Are you good if I clean things up?” She asked, kissing you on the forehead when you nodded approval.

You heard the sound of water running and your exhaustion quickly took over, drifting off to sleep.

When you woke the next morning JJ was sitting on the other side of the bed, sipping her coffee as she watched you.

“Good morning my love.” She greeted you softly.

“g’morning” You mumbled, wiping the sleep from your eyes.

“How do you feel about telling the team about us?” Her question surprised you but simultaneously filled you with joy, finally being able to tell your friends about the relationship you’d been hiding for so long.

“I love it.” You smiled, getting out of bed to get dressed and ready in time to meet the team in the lobby.

“What were you two up to last night?” Derek greeted the two of you while exposing just how loud you really had been. You both rolled your eyes, looking at one another.

“We have an announcement.” JJ said, getting the rest of the team’s attention.

“We’re engaged!” You announced, taking JJ’s hand in yours.

“So much for keeping things casual, JJ.” Derek joked, calling back to the conversation that led to all of this in the first place.

“So that’s what all of that noise was last night.” Emily added, knocking shoulders with Morgan.

Your face turned bright red, embarrassed by the attention brought to your late night activities.

“Congratulations, you’ll need to fill out the necessary paperwork as soon as we return after this case.” Hotch was the voice of reason, as always.

That wouldn’t be a problem, you couldn’t wait to have it down officially that Jennifer Jareau wanted to spend the rest of her life with you.

——

Tag list: @lover-of-books-and-tea

DM me or send me an ask if you’d like to be added to my Jennifer Jareau or general taglist :)

#jennifer jareau #jennifer jareau fanfiction #jennifer jareau smut #jennifer jareau x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #mine #my writing

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c0eu4 · 10 months

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OP81 | Crash ☁︎

Summary: After the biggest crash of Oscar's life, y/n go to see him at the hospital.

Warning: big crash from Oscar, panic attack

A/N: I really hope this will never happen to him :(

MASTERLIST requests are open

Her teary eyes are focused on the screen. The orange car against the wall, half smashed.

''You ok?'' She hears Oscar's engineer talking to him through her headphones.

He doesn't answer. Her heart beats fast. Very fast. She feels like she's about to break down, but she holds herself back, in case a camera is pointing at her.

''Oscar, are you ok?'' Repeat his engineer. She can hear his breathing, fast. He groaned in pain and finally responded.

''Uhg..I'm..I'm ok.'' She puts her hand over her mouth, no longer able to hold back the tears that flow gently down her cheeks. She cries even more when she sees him trying to get out of his car but he falls back, his arms unable to support his weight.

He finally managed to get out of his car with the help of one of the track agents. His steps are uncertain, he walks towards a stretcher where he is made lie down. He gives the camera a thumb up, but I know he's not doing well.

I quickly wipe away my tears before the camera focuses on me. I see myself, and I want to cry even more. I suddenly remove my headphones and head towards the private McLaren premises. I see the camera follow me for a few seconds then surely change the point of view.

She runs towards his drivers room even though she knows he won't be there. But she needs to be alone, away from the cameras.

She abruptly closes the door behind her and collapses against the wall, crying. She is shaking, like when there's thunder, like when she can't stop laughing, or like when Oscar makes her see the stars.

Her breathing is irregular, she can't stop crying. What if he died in the hospital? What if he's so injured he'll never be able to drive again? What if he gets amnesia and doesn't remember her?

All her thoughts are interrupted by someone knocking on the door.

''y/n? I know you're here.'' She suddenly stops crying and raises her head, tears streaming down her face.

''y/n, it's Nicole. Can I enter ?'' Oscar's mother has always been very kind to her, supporting her in all her projects, even the craziest ones. They have known each other for over seven years now. And she trusts in her.

''I-Its not l-lock..'' Nicole opened the door slowly and entered the room. She comes to see her and sits next to.

''He's alright.'' She said to her, rubbing her back softly as y/n put her head against Nicole's shoulder.

''They take him to the hospital. We can go to see him in less than an hour.'' Y/n nod softly, trying to catch her breath.

''Take deep breaths y/n, he's in good hands.'' Nicole showed her how to breathe as they breathe together. Y/n calm down and stay to chat with Nicole a few more minutes.

They finally get up and directly head towards Nicole's car. They drive pretty fast, Nicole would never have driven so fast in her entire life, but when it comes to her son...

They reach the hospital and are near to run in the corridor to Oscar's room. Once they are in front of the door, Chris waits for them. He took Nicole in his arm and talked to them.

''I waited for you two to see him.''

He entered the room first and Nicole followed him. Y/n do not dare to come in, too afraid.

''I..I will go to see him after you.'' She said to Nicole who nod and smiled at her.

Y/n go back to sit in the corridor, her legs shaking uncontrollably.

Chris and Nicole stay in the room for less than ten minutes but it feels like one hour for her. They finally get out as she quickly gets up walking towards them.

''Is he o-'' Chris cuts her off.

''I think he really needs to see you.'' He looks at her with a firm but also a sweet look.

She didn't think twice and entered the room. When she sees him, in his hospital bed and an IV on his arm, she wants to cry even more.

''Y/n..'' He moans in pain. She approached him, crying again.

''Don't cry sweetheart.'' She takes his hand in her and rubs it with her thumb. He didn't waste his time and put his arms around her hips, pulling her in a comfortable hug. He hides his head against her chest, breathing in her scent. She slides her hand through his hair, caressing his scalp.

''I'm sorry for scared you.'' She heard a little snob and she wanted to cry with him. But she knows she has to keep her head up for him, to not worry him even more.

''It's ok kitty. It happens.'' He cried even more. He loves when she calls him kitty.

''Don't be mad at me baby.'' He blames himself so much. He blames himself for not knowing how to manage his car and for scaring everyone. Especially her.

''I can't be mad at you my love.'' She reassured him, even if her voice was shaking.

They separate from each other and y/n sits on the bed, Oscar putting his head on her lap. She keeps talking to him, with sweet and encouraging words.

''It's ok kitten, you're safe now. And you'll be ok.''

''I disappointed all my fans.''

''You especially worried them.''

''I'm sorry.''

''Don't say sorry. It's not your fault.''

''I lost the car.''

''It happens.''

''I almost died.''

''You're overthinking Osc.''

He sighs and closes his eyes. She passes her fingers through his hair, playing with some of his strands.

''try to sleep. You need rest.''

He kisses her lap and quickly, she can hear little snores coming from him.

She looks at him and finally breaks down. She cried softly, trying to be quiet to not wake him up. His parents come into the room and her mother comes to take y/n in her arms. She cried quietly with her, caressing her son's face.

''Thank you y/n'' She looks at Oscar's father, in incomprehension.

''Thank you for being here for him.''

She just nods and her looks go back to the sweet face of Oscar.

After what seems to be hours, Oscar finally gets up. His head was against y/n shoulder, herself laying against him. Her left arm was behind his neck and her right arm was on his chest.

She looks at him and smiles, trying to comfort him again.

''You feel better?'' She asked him, caressing his cheek.

''I can't feel my body.'' She giggles.

''They drugged you with morphine.'' He laughed loudly.

''I feel like I'm drunk.'' She laughed too as Chris looked at them, amused.

''Can I take a picture of you two ? We need to tell people that you're safe Oscar.''

Oscar laughed again. ''If you want so daddy ahaha.''

Oscar never called his dad 'daddy'. And Chris sighs in amusement. He takes his phone in his hand.

''Oscar smiles for the pictures.'' I put my arms around his neck and smile for the camera. Oscar puts his thumbs in the air and smiles with all his teeth.

Chris laughed at the picture and showed it to us. I laughed too while Oscar started to play with my fingers. He bites it and I groans in pain.

''Oscaaar, you look like you smoked something.''

''Uhmmm maybe I dooo???'' He looks up at me with his little puppy eyes.

All good things end well. Even if Oscar looks like someone drunk.

#oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri #nicole piastri #heart eyes piastri #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #fluff

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loveinhawkins · 5 months

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ao3

Steve hears Eddie’s voice in The Upside Down.

It starts when they reach the vine infested attic of the Creel House, after they’ve lured the bats into the woods with a trail of fire, made them drowsy and stupid before setting them all ablaze; like a fucked up fairy ring, Steve had thought, and it had felt like exactly the kind of thing Eddie would think, and Steve’s trying to hold onto the words so he can remember to tell Eddie later; he wants to tell him—

He’s halfway up the stairs, stepping over a vine when he hears it.

“Shit. Oh, shit,” Eddie breathes.

He sounds so close, like he’s whispering in Steve’s ear.

And then he’s gone, and Steve’s turning to see Nancy and Robin just a step behind him—they haven’t heard anything, he can tell, but they both freeze for a moment, like they can read the fear on his face, something’s wrong, something’s really wrong.

But they all keep going, one step then another, and Steve thinks of history class, of soldiers going over the top.

He prays. Please, please…

More stairs. The door to the attic. Steve opens it.

Eddie’s voice again, high pitched and frightened. “H-hey, listen, man, you don’t—”

The sound is cut off abruptly; Steve feels a touch to the back of his hand. Robin.

He hands her the lighter, but he can see her hesitate out the corner of his eye, are you okay?

He shakes his head once, no time, and he smells a rag soaked with fuel when the voice comes again, still so desperately afraid, but hardening at the edges, “Oh, Jesus Chr—stop!”

“Steve.” Nancy next to him, eyebrows drawn.

There’s a Molotov cocktail in his hand that he can’t remember lighting.

Steve throws it.

He doesn’t even look to see if his aim is true, because Eddie is back, and his voice still shakes but there’s steel in its core, and Steve knows that all too well, knows the exact place it comes from: thinks of standing his ground in ‘84, knowing deep in his bones that it was down to him, that he’d do anything so long as the kids—

“Get away from them. I’m not—I’m not fucking messing around here, get away—”

Robin throws a bottle of her own; the flames soar, and Steve hears a new voice, dark and commanding—one he’s heard across the basketball court, but never quite like this.

“And the devil that deceived them was cast into the lake of fire and brimstone—”

Nancy aims the gun.

“—where the beast and the false prophet are—”

Fires.

“—and shall be tormented day and night—”

Again.

“—forever and ever.”

Nancy steps forward, takes aim once more.

And Steve hears another pair of footsteps, someone running; he turns towards the sound, towards the door, and for a moment it’s almost as if he can feel Eddie rush past him like a ghost—wants to reach out, to grab his hand, but the sensation slips away like smoke; he’s too far away, he’s too…

Nancy takes the final shot. Henry Creel’s body shifts from something monstrous to something that’s smaller and human, but no less terrible for it.

Steve doesn’t watch. Can’t rid the feeling that it all rings false.

He can’t hear Eddie anymore. Can’t hear anything apart from the frantic thud of his own heartbeat, but that’s good, that’s good, he can work with that—lets it drive him forward, lets pure instinct take over so he’s grabbing the axe without a thought, swinging so it hits the vines still tangled on the wall, dormant, dead.

They break easily. Steve keeps going; there’s the barest hint of resistance, but all it tells him is that he’s on the right path, and then something gives, parts…

“Nance,” Steve says.

She’s right by him; he feels her hand around his wrist. From the way she squeezes tightly, knows that she’s already understood.

“Okay,” she says, fragile, “okay, okay.” A shuddering breath. “Steve, I can’t just—I have to—”

“I know,” Steve says softly, because he feels it, too: the awful thought that it’s all over too quickly. Senses Nancy’s anxiety as if it was his own, the desperate need to check, to stand vigil. Then—and only then—will she declare it over to herself.

He holds her hand, squeezes back. Lets go.

There’s movement to the left of him. Robin, her hair in her eyes, and that’s gonna bug her eventually, so Steve fixes it for her, tries to smile, to make this easy.

“Five minutes, okay?” he says—thinks of the elevator in Starcourt, how she counted the seconds passing with freakish accuracy. “No more.”

She opens her mouth, but Steve keeps talking before she can. “Promise me.”

She goes to shake her head.

“Robin, please,” he says, voice breaking.

Years ago, his mom got a phone call about the fatal car crash his uncle had been in. She’d picked up somewhere in between the second ring and the third, and then she’d screamed, and Steve had overheard without understanding—had still felt the echo of her grief.

He’s never told anyone that. But he wonders if Robin can see something of it on his face—that he’s stuck: still in between rings, the split second before the scream—because she’s nodding suddenly, close to tears, but so serious.

“I—I promise, Steve.”

He slips through the Gate in the wall, leaves them both behind—all he has to soothe him is a gut feeling, as the heat of Nancy setting the vines alight fades away: that The Upside Down is just a graveyard now. That there’s no danger to be found—not anymore.

Not in there.

He steps into the attic, where the floorboards are bare. Looks around sharply—Lucas and Max, huddled in the corner, and he can’t tell, he can’t tell if—

As Steve runs to them, a soft click filters through. Max, rewinding her tape; she’s not even looking at her Walkman, like she’s not even aware that she’s doing it. The headphones lie around her neck.

“Oh, thank God,” Steve finds himself whispering, gets one hand on Max, the other on Lucas, “thank God, thank God.”

They shake under his touch. Steve wants to shield them from every horror in existence, wants to swear to them that it’s over now, that they don’t have to do it anymore, but he has to—

“Where’s Eddie?”

It’s not a surprise when Max’s eyes dart to the door. Steve’s stomach drops anyway.

Lucas speaks, voice ragged, “Jason, he…”

And as Steve looks at him, the kid’s thirteen again, eyes wide with fear in the face of Billy Hargrove. You’re dead, Sinclair.

Steve pushes back a hot swell of anger. Hugs Lucas roughly, then Max, murmurs, “Okay, it’s okay. Stay right here. Nancy and Robin are coming, I promise.”

“Steve,” Max whispers when he’s at the door.

He turns back.

But it’s like she’s run out of words, shivering in Lucas’s arms. Still rewinding the tape, but her fingers are slipping now.

Lucas speaks for her—eyes off to the side, like he’s seeing something more than a Gate in the wall. “He had a gun.”

Steve checks a couple rooms, floorboards creaking no matter how quiet he tries to be. His heart’s still racing. It leads him to the staircase.

And Eddie’s right there, just a few steps down.

There’s the faint screech of a car driving away.

Eddie looks up at him. He’s standing obliquely, clinging to the bannister. His eyes shine in the dark, and Steve can just barely make out the evidence of bruises and cuts all across his face.

“He’s gone,” Eddie says with such relief.

I’ll kill him, Steve thinks numbly.

”I, um. I had to run,” Eddie continues, almost like he’s defending himself. “He—he wouldn’t listen, man. The kids, I… I couldn’t let him—”

“They’re fine,” Steve says, talks right over Eddie’s answering sigh, “we should go back up. Check on them.”

A pause.

“Yeah,” Eddie says. “Sure. Think I—think I just need a second.”

“Okay.”

Eddie smiles. It’s the worst thing Steve has ever seen.

“Did it work?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, his throat tight. The word is ash on his tongue. “Yeah, it worked. It’s finished.”

“Good.” Eddie inhales. “And you’ll—you’ll tell my uncle, right? Tell him I didn’t kill Chrissy.”

“Tell him yourself,” Steve snaps.

But Eddie’s shaking his head. Steve can visibly see the adrenaline draining from him: his arms shaking as his grip on the bannister falters.

“Nah, man,” Eddie says, his voice thick and wet with tears.

“Stop fucking crying,” Steve says, instantly ashamed as the words slip out—fear rendering him sharp and mean; Eddie’s hand slips, and he turns, “Oh my God,” Steve says uselessly, “Oh my God, Eddie,” because it’s not a dawning horror really, more a realisation that they’ve both been putting off.

Maybe Steve has known all along.

He gets hold of Eddie before he can fall, mutters, “Here, I’ve got—Jesus, just lie down.”

“No, I don’t—” Eddie kicks out aimlessly, panicking, “I don’t wanna lie down, I don’t wanna lie down.”

Steve ignores him. Presses down on Eddie’s abdomen, hands already slick with blood.

Eddie is hyperventilating. He keeps saying it, “I don’t wanna lie down,” until it devolves into just, “Steve, Steve, I don’t want to,” until it doesn’t sound like he’s talking about lying down at all.

“You won’t,” Steve says, “you won’t, Eddie, just—push down, okay? You’ve got to—here, here, just push—”

Eddie’s hands are slack in his, and as Steve pushes against him, harder, harder, he cries out, breathing so shallow, so quick, too quick, “I’m sorry,” Steve whispers, “I’m sorry, Eddie, I’m so sorry.”

He thinks Eddie must be in too much pain to understand—his body still spasming, still weakly fighting against Steve’s pressure.

But then he feels Eddie’s hand move, loosely clasp around his wrist.

“It’s okay,” Eddie says, still crying, but Steve can hear him smiling somehow, fuck, how can he even—?, “hey, S-Steve, it’s okay. Just—just want to go home.” He’s rambling, almost incoherent, “It’s not that far, it’s—take me home, please, please, can you take me home, just—”

“I will,” Steve lies. “We need to fix this first, okay? Eddie, are you listening? Then we can…”

He trails off at the sight of Eddie looking up at him, his eyes so big, so full of life, and Steve doesn’t understand the expression on his face, doesn’t think he’s ever seen him look like this; and he wants Eddie to explain it to him, just wants him to talk, wants to…

I want to tell him, Steve thinks nonsensically.

“Steve Harrington,” Eddie murmurs, like he’s savouring Steve’s name. “You’re so…”

But Steve will never find out what he is, the rest of the sentence lost to a pained gasp.

“Don’t talk,” Steve says. Hates how harsh he sounds. “Eddie, just. Stay.”

Eddie smiles through blood. “I think I could’ve loved you.”

Steve hears movement from way above, a door slamming open, Robin and Nancy’s voices filtering down, still too far away to understand.

He could keep talking. Keep talking to Eddie.

But he knows.

The front door opens. Erica tears through it, screaming Lucas’s name, and then she stops in her tracks.

Dustin nearly collides with her from behind. Pulls her back, face slack with horror.

Steve leans over Eddie, desperately trying to shield him from them.

Dustin’s eyes meet Steve’s, over bright with fear; Steve thinks of him freezing in the graveyard, his own panicked shout, call Nancy and Robin!

He doesn’t want it to be too late.

“Call an ambulance,” Steve says, and Dustin’s eyes widen. He doesn’t sound remotely like himself, Steve knows, but he can barely even… Can only say it again, voice breaking horribly, “Call an ambulance!”

Dustin tugs Erica back. They run.

Steve stays right where he is. Looks down, and keeps looking—doesn’t turn away, not for anything, not even when it’s obvious that Eddie’s eyes are fixed and glassy.

He will bear witness to this.

#this has been haunting me (warnings info on ao3)#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steve and the party #eddie and the party

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blogfullofemos · 4 months

Text

My Look Precedes Me

Based from this picture:

Synopsis: You're sitting on Eddie's bed with nothing but homework dispersed around you. And well... Baby has been in the corner... FOR FAR TOO LONG!!!

Word Count: 1k+

Warning: explicit words and a lot of angst. Italics is for flashbacks. I also believe that Eddie is very anxiety ridden, like moi. So yeah. Do what you will with that lol. Also has been proofread multiple times. (I wanna give you the best of the best okay 🥲)

Pairing: Eddie Munson + female reader

Lastly thank you so so so so so much for the shockingly amazing amount of feedback I received on my last 2 Eddie Munson blurbs. Thank you for the hearts, reblogs, and follows. Also I love the commentary cuz yes this man indeed drives me feral. But at times, he's just like me. 😭 Enjoy and let me know how you feel darling.

Eddie’s antsy. Eddie’s pissed. Better yet, if he has to deal with this any longer!! Eddie’s going to bring the upside down, downside up!! Or however the fuck they would reverse it. Sitting on a bean bag at the corner of his room, Eddie blatantly stares at you with furrowed brows. Wearing nothing but his favorite, black-ripped skinny jeans, his right leg bounces rapidly. His guitar resting still from the action as his hands fidgets all around it. Rolling his brown eyes, he presses his hand against his bottom lip to bite at the skin. Trying his best to distract himself from his fuming impatience.

For 2 and a half weeks, you’ve been…. Distant. And with no reason. The first week you started to make conversations between you two short, didn’t acknowledge when he wanted to make you the priority, and lastly you didn’t answer his phone calls. At all. You’re his girlfriend, right? Obsessively he checked if you still sported his guitar pick necklace. His heart finding some semblance of solace, as he watched your habit of twirling the pick between your fingers when talking to others, never stopped.

“Hey… Uh-umm are we o-okay?” he asks shakily. With his hands in his pockets, he picks at the skin on his fingers. Clammy, heart burning, and thoughts racing for the worst; he kept his focus trained on the gravel crunch of his shoes. Never wanting you to see the fear anticipating to implode if his assumptions rang true. “You’re too in your head, Eds.” you giggle softly. Trying to break the unnerving silence, you scatter tiny rocks with a kick but nothing changes. You give it a few more steps. “Eddie?” you say, looking beside you with worry. Taken aback, you whip your head to look behind you. With a 4ft distance, Eddie stood still. His curls lightly drift with the wind as his head remains drooped. ‘Then why didn’t you notice I stopped? You must be in your head too.’ he thinks as a sniffle betrays him. In an instant, he hears you drop the scholarly books you held close to you and run towards him. “Eddie, baby..”, “Eds you’ve done nothing wrong..”, “Baby its me, not you okay.” you rush out. And with perfect deflection, you kissed him deeply.

The 2nd week was pure Hell. You made it your mission to not cross paths anytime during class hours, and when it came to lunch. You would just sit next to him, hold his hand, and if he was lucky you would laugh at a joke he made. Eye contact was the least of your worries.

“Sooo what’s happening here?” Steve abruptly asks as he dips his french fry into ketchup. Sitting across from you at the table, Steve quirks his brow at you as your focus snaps to him. Successfully cutting your convo with Robin down completely. “What do you mean?” you laugh off.

“Well Lisa needs me.” Robin announces, quickly freeing herself from the table. Your eyebrow raises at her sudden departure, but she just smiles and waves before scurrying to whatever table Lisa is at. Who even is Lisa? You don’t realize Eddie profusely shaking his head at Steve, before smacking his hand on his face as Steve clears his throat. “You and Eddie.” you look at Eddie with confusion. With his hand covering his mouth and nose flared, he just stares at Steve. “Something’s off.” Steve finishes, biting his ketchup covered french fry. Eddie squeezes your intertwined hand with his, needing to break your inquisitive eyes from his teetering restraint. Even if it was just for a moment. Steve chuckles, “I mean…�� he takes another bite to a fry “Why are you-?”

“Steve. Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” Eddie warns, trying his best to keep his hands at where they were.

“No. Munson. It’s… “ Steve slowly pushes the styrofoam plate aside, contemplating his next words wisely. Your eyes searched for what was to come out of Steve's mouth, but he sighs. “You are no Madonna.” Steve points at you, “And YOU!!” he points at Eddie “Are no Sean Penn!!”. In seconds your jaw drops, milk splatters onto Steve as Eddie tosses its small carton at his head, and Steve is now over the table grappling Eddie.

The taste of iron seeps within his mouth as he recollects himself from his triggering memories. Slapping his hands on each side of his bean bag chair, he shoots himself off of it. Quickly catching his guitar from falling, he swiftly places its strap on his shoulder. “I wrote a song for you.” he says heated, snatching the sheet you were filling out and crumbling it.

“EDS!!” you yell out in shock, trying to snatch the balled-up paper from him but he puts it in his mouth. Before you could even say anything, he scratches his pick against his guitar strings. The scratchy sounds reverberating throughout his room loudly, since he always has his amp on max. Chewing the paper, he strums a quick solo, spitting the saliva-soaked blob at you. Disgusted you watch him headbang to a heavy riff, “WHY ARE YOU DRAGGING ME ALONG, SO FUCKING HIGH STRUNG, ANOTHER DAY OF THIS AND WE’LL BE DONE!!” he bursts out, strumming his guitar strings like he was punching it.

Your heart sank as he continues the angry riff, his brown eyes twitching as tears slowly begin to creep their way out. “LOVE YOU BUT IT JUST SEEMS TO BE FUN, YEAH EDDIE, THAT’S A GOOD ONE!! DOES SHE LOVE YOU, DOES SHE EVEN KNOW WHAT SHE WANTS!!” he continues. The vein in his neck protrudes from how loud he was screaming. You nibble on your bottom lip, your eyes welling up, but Eddie didn’t care to stop. Because when did you ever 'cared' to stop? Your intense stare never once faltering as he stalks towards your laid-back body. “CUZ IF SHE WANTS TO UP AND R-.” his voice cracks as his eyes winces, heavy tears running down his cheeks. His nose flares as he struggles to breathe, his hands not keeping up the harsh tempo. Opening his mouth, you scream “MY PARENTS ARE PLANNING TO SEND ME AWAY!!”.

“What?” Steve says, thrown back and silencing his guitar strings eerie screeching. Finally, you explain your past actions followed by a full blown breakdown. Believing you were invincible, your father always seemed to catch you in an act. And this one labelled you his grandest mistake. During a rage fit, “NO DAUGHTER OF MINE WILL BE WITH A DRUGGED-OUT LOSER!!” you repeated to Eddie. Causing Eddie to turn away from you, walk a few steps away, and plop on the end of his bed. Your father gave you an ultimatum. If you chose Eddie, he would send you away to live with your great grandmother. Well more like take care of your prudish great-grandmother. But if you chose different, then life goes as usual. And the only way he knew you weren't seeing Eddie, is if you focused on getting your grades up. Eddie looks up to his ceiling, bemused on how oblivious he was in all of this. The puzzle finally putting itself together.

“BUT- but I choose you Eddie.” you cry, quickly placing your hand on top of his. Eddie stared at the walls while you vented out your frustration, silently crying. He hates your dad. But he understood his smothering defense. If they were to reverse roles, he would've done the same. But God he felt so wrong for placing all of his pent-up rage towards you. It wasn’t you who was pulling away, it was your family prying you off of him. Broken, he finally looks at you with soaked lashes, “A drugged-out loser huh.” he sadly repeats your father’s remark. You pout. Bringing him close, you rest his head on your chest. The strong sound of your heart beat causing him to sob.

As it was the first time he ever heard a precious thing give texture to his ostracized existence.

#stranger things eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things season 4 #stranger things #special guest steve harrington #with another special guest robin buckley #eddie munson angst #rocker eddie munson #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson boyfriend

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kenmakodz · 7 months

Text

CANDID LOVE ˙✧˖📷

02. shitty sushi place ☆

writing in-between cuts!

you sigh, tucking your phone away— they’re way too close now to keep typing about them, it’d be obvious. it will be fine, you think. nobara has hung out with maki and her friends plenty of times; if she gets along with them, so can you!

“hey again!” you wave, walking to meet the duo halfway. the shorter blonde boy is first to acknowledge you, nodding his head as his pace comes to a halt- a greeting, you suppose. maki lazily holds up a hand as if to say hello. “nice to see you again, just on our turf this time huh?” she chuckles on the last word, coaxing you to smile back- intrigued at her way of starting a conversation. “yeah, seems like the tables have turned. it’s much smaller than i expected, though.” you turn to face the boy standing next to her, deciding it would be rude to not introduce yourself. “nice to meet you as well, y/n l/n.” he nods again, “toge inumaki.” his voice is much quieter than you expected, maybe he’s the shy type? or maybe he’s just not interested in talking to you; who knows.

maki’s tour isn’t very…. detailed. “this is the dining hall, we eat here sometimes.” , “this is the common area that nobody sits in.” , etc etc. to most, this would come off as rude and uninterested. in reality, she actually made you laugh quite a few times. she slipped in jokes here and there, the majority of them being about the wide range of interesting professors she's come across. an honest tour is much better than an over-detailed, over-explanation of every single thing on campus that close to nobody cares about; she reminds you a lot of megumi the whole time. the boy wouldn’t say too much, just some playful banter back and forth with the two of you about certain classes, random places on campus, and the like. it was nice, you thought- not as awkward or as forced as you felt like it would be. maki seemed to be enjoying herself as well, noticing that you laughed whenever she poked at the school for its quirks.

after about an hour of walking around, the three of you seem to halt rather abruptly. you notice the two friends begin texting, so you lean against the building and begin to lazily scroll while they do their own thing.

finally, she looks up, clearly contemplating something. “would you want to come get sushi with us? our other friend, yuuta is on the way too. he’s studying the same thing as you.”

you pause. being invited out with them was the last thing you had expected- when her mouth opened, you were anticipating her to offer walking you back home. the confusion definitely shows on your face, and the boy (who you now know as toge) laughs at your reaction. “you can say no if you don’t want to,” making a mental note to punch yourself for being so awkward later on, you finally respond, starting to laugh along. “im sorry, i don’t know why i reacted like that- i’m honestly starving, that would be great!”

you've gained 3 new followers!

￬ makizen, fortnitegod, y.okkotsu.

fun facts -> yuuta was contemplating skipping his lecture for that sushi all. day. it'd been a while since the three of them went out, and it could be a while before they get to do it again, since work begins to pile up around this time in the year. when he heard about y/n being there, he almost backed out. yuuta hyperfocuses on first-impressions, and showing up sleep deprived after a 2 hour lecture was NOT his idea of a good one.

previous , masterlist, next [03. life: ended]

taglist is open! @just-a-girlblogger @moryymor @swissy23 @hvnyacoded @sereniteav @k4romis @jayathelostdragon @h3rmess @olivandeee @lysaray @ari3000dontcare @raechu11

⤷ © kenmakodz

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talkdutchtome · 7 months

Text

Glitch- chapter nine

pairing . . . max verstappen x reader / mason mount x reader )

summary . . . when mason mount finds out that his assistant has been harbouring feelings for him for years, he makes it clear he doesn't feel the same way. but once he sees her become closer with formula 1 world champion max verstappen, he realises he may have underestimated his feelings towards the girl he has now pushed into the arms of another )

genre . . . angst )

song . . . glitch- taylor swift )

series masterlist . . . available here )

a/n . . . endlessly sorry for how long its been, but i'm back now and we're straight back into tooth rotting fluff <3 )

The dull and familiar sound of the iphone ringtone pulled Y/N abruptly from her nap, she groggily reached for device that woke her so rudely, blinking away the remnants of sleep as she saw Reece's name on the caller ID.

"Hey, Reece. What's up?" she mumbled, still half-asleep.

"Hi, Y/N," came Reece's voice, surprisingly serious. "Did you seriously go to Monaco? With Max?"

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. "Um, yeah," she admitted, unsure where this line of questioning was leading.

"Are we, like, real friends now? Not just, like, mutual friends through Mason?" Reece's question was direct, leaving no room for evasion. The haziness of her nap now long forgotten.

Y/N hesitated, caught off guard by the abruptness of the inquiry. "I... I guess so," she replied tentatively.

Reece didn't mince his words in response. "Does Max know that you and Mason slept together?"

Y/N could literally feel her heart sink. She wasn't prepared for this confrontation, especially not with Reece, she didn’t even know how he knew about that.

"I, uh... I don't know what you're talking about," she stammered, attempting to deflect.

"Cut the bullshit, Y/N," Reece snapped, his usually easygoing demeanor replaced by an uncharacteristic sharpness.

Y/N's breath caught in her throat. She'd never heard Reece speak like this before, and it rattled her.

"Okay, fine," she relented, her voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, he knows. He came to visit me that night and he could tell something was up and sussed it out, and we decided I should come to Monaco to give... whatever we have a chance. Away from M- away from distractions."

There was a heavy silence on the other end of the line, and Y/N braced herself for Reece's response. She couldn't shake the feeling of vulnerability, exposed by Reece's penetrating questions.

Finally, Reece spoke, his tone softer now. "I understand, Y/N. I hope you figure out what you want."

As Y/N ended the call, she took a moment to collect herself, the weight of Reece's words settling over her like a heavy blanket. She knew she couldn't evade the consequences of her choices, no matter how much she wished she could.

The soft knock on the door stirred Y/N from her reverie, and she quickly composed herself before answering. As Max entered, his concern was evident in the furrow of his brow and the gentle tone of his voice.

"Hey, Y/N. How'd you sleep? Is the room okay for you?" Max inquired, his eyes scanning her face for any sign of distress.

Y/N managed a small smile, grateful for his consideration. "I slept fine, thank you. And the room is lovely, really," she replied, her voice soft but genuine.

Max nodded, seemingly satisfied with her response. "Good to hear. So, who were you talking to on the phone earlier?" he asked casually, his curiosity piqued.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, unsure how much to reveal. "Oh, just Reece," she replied, hoping to brush off the conversation.

Max arched an eyebrow, sensing her reluctance to elaborate. "What did he want?" he pressed gently, his gaze unwavering.

Y/N swallowed hard, knowing she couldn't avoid the truth. "He... he was asking if it was true that I came here," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Max's expression softened at her words, a flicker of understanding passing between them. "Oh, how did he know that?" he inquired, his tone gentle but probing.

Y/N closed her eyes briefly, steeling herself for the admission. "Mason," she murmured, the name heavy with unspoken implications.

The mention of Mason hung in the air like an unwelcome guest, casting a shadow over the room and injecting a palpable tension into the atmosphere. Y/N felt a knot form in her stomach at the mere sound of his name, a stark reminder of the complicated dynamics that had brought her here.

For Max, the mention of Mason was like stumbling upon a hidden obstacle in an otherwise smooth path. He couldn't ignore the sudden shift in Y/N's demeanor, the subtle tensing of her shoulders and the guarded look in her eyes. It was a reminder of the delicate balance they were navigating, with Mason's presence looming large over their fledgling connection.

The silence that followed was thick with unspoken words and unresolved emotions, each of them grappling with their own inner turmoil. Y/N struggled to reconcile her lingering feelings for Mason with the growing attraction she felt for Max, while Max found himself grappling with a sense of unease at the thought of his newfound connection being overshadowed by a past that seemed determined to intrude.

Max sensed the discomfort radiating from Y/N like a tangible force, and he knew he had to act quickly to alleviate the awkwardness that had settled between them like a heavy shroud. With a subtle shift in his demeanor, he gently changed the subject, his voice carrying a note of reassurance as he reminded her of their upcoming dinner reservations.

"Hey, um, so, about dinner," he began, his tone light and casual, "We've got reservations in about an hour. Thought we could grab a bite to eat and maybe explore the area a bit afterward. What do you think?"

His words hung in the air, a lifeline tossed amidst the turbulent sea of emotions that threatened to engulf them. Max watched as Y/N's expression softened ever so slightly, a flicker of relief crossing her features at the prospect of shifting their focus away from the uncomfortable topic at hand.

"Yeah, that sounds good," she replied, the tension in her voice easing as she welcomed the distraction Max offered. "I could use a nice meal right about now."

Max offered her a warm smile, his eyes reflecting a silent understanding as he nodded in agreement. "Great. I'll let you get ready then. Just give me a shout when you're good to go, yeah?"

Y/N nodded in response, a grateful smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she watched Max make his way to the door. As he stepped out into the hallway, she couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for his intuitive nature, for his ability to sense her discomfort and offer her a much-needed reprieve.

As they drove to the restaurant, Y/N couldn't help but feel a twinge of intimidation as she took in the sleek interior of Max's car, a luxurious vehicle that spoke volumes about the extravagant lifestyle he led. She couldn't help but wonder what it must be like to live in a world filled with such opulence and grandeur, feeling a bit out of place amidst its lavishness.

Upon arriving at the restaurant, however, her apprehension began to dissipate as she noticed the quaint charm of the place. It was a cozy little spot, far from the flashy extravagance she had expected, and she found herself feeling more at ease as they entered.

They were greeted by a sweet, elderly couple who seemed to know Max well, exchanging warm greetings and friendly banter as if he were an old friend. Y/N couldn't help but smile at the genuine affection they showed him, feeling a sense of warmth wash over her as they complimented her appearance.

"Max, my boy, you've outdone yourself this time! Who's this lovely lady you've brought with you?" the elderly gentleman chuckled, his eyes twinkling mischievously as he teased Max.

Max chuckled sheepishly, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush as he introduced Y/N to the couple. "This is Y/N, and she's far too good for the likes of me," he joked, though there was a sincerity in his voice that made Y/N's heart skip a beat.

As they were led to their table, she couldn't help but notice the remnants of a slight blush on Max's cheeks, a sight that caused her heart to flutter with an unexpected surge of affection. Sitting across from him, she found herself captivated by the way his eyes sparkled with a hint of excitement, his smile lighting up the room as they settled in for their meal.

During dinner, Max and Y/N found themselves immersed in a discussion about their respective childhoods, sharing stories and anecdotes that offered glimpses into their pasts.

"So, Y/N, tell me about your family," Max prompted, his curiosity piqued as he leaned forward, eager to learn more about her background.

Y/N's eyes sparkled with fond memories as she began to speak. "Well, I come from a big family," she started, a warm smile gracing her lips. "I have three siblings – two sisters and a brother – and we're all really close. Growing up, our house was always bustling with activity, and there was never a dull moment."

Max listened intently, captivated by her description of a lively household filled with love and laughter. "That sounds wonderful," he remarked, a hint of admiration in his voice. "What was it like being the oldest?"

Y/N chuckled, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "It definitely had its challenges," she admitted, "but it also taught me responsibility and the importance of looking out for others. I always felt like I had to set a good example for my siblings, and that's something that's stuck with me throughout my life."

As their conversation continued, Y/N turned the spotlight on Max, asking him about his own family and upbringing. Max shared stories of his childhood, delving into what it was like to grow up in a very driven household, where he spent so much of his time as a kid karting and preparing for a career in Formula One.

After their delightful dinner, Max suggested they visit Le Rocher, a spot where they could admire the breathtaking views of Monaco's old town. As they strolled along, Y/N couldn't help but be mesmerized by the picturesque scenery unfolding before her.

"It's stunning," she breathed, her eyes sweeping over the panoramic vista.

Max nodded in agreement, a soft smile playing on his lips. "This is one of my favorite places to come when I need a break from the racing world," he confessed. "Here, I can just be Max."

Y/N listened, soaking in the tranquility of the moment as they shared a quiet conversation, the gentle evening breeze carrying their words away into the night.

As they reached a particularly scenic spot, Max mentioned Daniel's persistent encouragement to start a jpeg Instagram account like his. "He's always on my case about it," Max chuckled, turning to face Y/N. "But I've been thinking... what do you say we do a little impromptu photoshoot?"

Y/N's initial hesitation melted away at the sight of Max's infectious enthusiasm. "Sure, why not?" she replied with a grin.

With Max behind the camera, they embarked on a playful photoshoot, capturing candid moments and genuine smiles against the backdrop of Monaco's twinkling lights. As they laughed and joked together, time seemed to stand still, and Y/N found herself immersed in the simple joy of being in Max's company.

As the night wore on and the early hours of the morning approached, they reluctantly called an end to their impromptu adventure. But as they made their way back to Max's apartment, the memory of their laughter lingered, a testament to the undeniable connection they shared. And as they bid each other goodnight, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling that perhaps, in each other, they had found something truly special.

Throughout the week in Monaco, Max and Y/N embarked on a series of adventures that seemed to draw them closer with each passing day. Max took her out on a yacht ride, where they basked in the warmth of the Mediterranean sun and marveled at the azure waters surrounding them. They went swimming and jet skiing, reveling in the exhilaration of the open sea.

One evening, Max surprised Y/N by cooking dinner for her, showcasing his culinary skills with a delicious meal prepared with care. As they dined together, sharing stories and laughter, it felt like they were in their own little world, untouched by the complexities of reality.

With each passing moment, the bond between them deepened, and Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging whenever she was with Max. In his company, she felt understood and cherished, as if being around each other was something that was meant to be.

Despite the idyllic moments they shared, Y/N couldn't shake the lingering thoughts of Mason and the tangled web of emotions that still tied her to him. But in the midst of their blissful escapades, she found solace in the simple joy of being with Max, relishing the moments they spent together and cherishing the connection they shared.

As race week descended upon Monaco, the tranquil days spent with Max swiftly transformed into a whirlwind of excitement and anticipation. Y/N marveled at the seamless transition as Max shifted gears from the laid-back companion of the past week to the determined machine ready to conquer the race track.

She observed Max navigate through a flurry of press events with effortless charm, amazed at how the sweet man she had grown fond of could seamlessly transform into a focused and driven athlete once he stepped into his race car.

During practice sessions, Y/N stood in Max's garage, taking in the electrifying atmosphere as mechanics buzzed around, fine-tuning the car to perfection. She engaged in conversation with others in the garage, soaking in the insider's view of the Formula One world.

When it was time for qualifying, Y/N found herself watching alongside Heidi, Daniel's girlfriend, forming a quick rapport with her as they cheered on their respective partners. The tension mounted as Max pushed the limits, eventually securing pole position in a stunning display of skill and determination.

As Max emerged from the garage, triumphant and exhilarated, he sought out Y/N amidst the jubilant crowd. To her surprise, he pulled her into a spontaneous embrace, planting a kiss on her lips that left her head spinning. Caught off guard by the unexpected display of affection, Y/N could only watch as the cameras flashed around them, capturing the moment for the world to see.

As Max hurried off to attend to his press obligations, Y/N remained in a daze, still reeling from the unexpected kiss and the flurry of attention that followed. Lost in her thoughts, she barely noticed the bustling activity around her until her phone suddenly rang, jolting her back to reality.

Glancing at the caller ID, she was immediately brought back down to earth. She could feel sick rise up to her throat, she found herself wanting the ground to come up and swallow her whole.

Her phone remained ringing, a picture of her and her best friend filling the screen with the one name she didn’t want to see right now. Mason.

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oneshotnewbie · 9 months

Note

Emily Prentiss saving reader from an unsub and reader just falls into her arms, sobbing in relief?

ᕚ---ᕘ

In a darkened warehouse in a remote industrial area, the gloomy silence oppressed the air, which was already hard to breathe in due to the thick dust. Emily Prentiss, a supervisory special agent from the Behavioral Analysis Unit, scurried gingerly through the shadowy hallways. Her heartbeat pulsed in her neck vein in harmony with the tension in every fiber of her body. But she had no choice, she was looking for you, a young woman who was the next victim of a notorious serial killer and had potentially been trafficked here.

The dim illumination of the flashlight beneath her drawn weapon bathed the surroundings in a dim light as she lurked and looked around every corner, her weapon tightly gripped in her clammy hands. She had gotten to the middle of the large building when she suddenly heard a faint noise. A stifled whimper under tape or fabric that seemed to come from near an old storage room.

Determined to free you, the black-haired woman moved towards the storage room, her steps deliberate and noiseless. When she reached the door, which was half hanging off its hinges and squeaked gently from the fine blast of air, she listened for a moment before carefully opening it a crack with the barrel of her weapon and shortly afterwards sticking her head through.

Emily's eyes widened in horror and anger as she discovered you tied up and helpless in a dark corner of the room while the suspect, a massive young man with a dark and scowl in his eyes, menacingly approached your powerless body. "FBI! Raise your hands above your head where I can see them!" she shouted with a strong authority in her gravelly voice, her gun unlocked and aimed squarely at the back of the man's head.

The suspect abruptly turned away from you and towards her, a devilish grin on his thin lips, only now did she noticed the shiny silver in his hands. "Agent Prentiss. You're too late to save this pretty thing. She'll be my next trophy and you'll get to watch so it eats you up inside that you couldn't save her in time."

Emily, however, remained calm, her eyes sparkling with determination to free you from the clutches of this monster and get you to safety. “Put the knife down and slowly step away from the woman,” the man in front of her just laughed scornfully and looked back at you for a second. You tried to squeeze yourself deeper into the corner, the look in his eyes deadly. You were panicking. You were afraid for your life. "You won't get in my way, Prentiss. Last time you interfered with my plans and the woman got away. But not this time,"

With a quick movement, he tightened the knife in his hand and rushed towards her, ready to attack and hurt her. But the agent reacted quickly and, as she had learned, ducked skillfully to the side and fired three shots, which, due to her sway in her balance, hit the ground just next to the attacker. The man flinched and frightened for a moment, but his resolve to stop her from saving you seemed undiminished.

In an all-too-quick turn of events, he leapt forward from his crouched position towards her, knife raised high, forcing Emily into an intense hand-to-hand combat. She couldn't use her pistol from such close range. The risk was too high, even for an experienced shooter like her, to hit you and injure or even kill you with one shot. However, her hand-to-hand combat training and experience gave her the advantage over him, but the man was a fierce opponent who would not let go of her until he got what he wanted.

A quick slash of the knife cut the skin above the collarbone, but the agent gritted her teeth and withstood him, her determination to save you unwavering. In a strong counterattack, she cleverly turned to face her, took advantage of the man's open attack area and brought him down, along with herself. She overpowered him and now sat on his thighs, forcing him to drop the knife by grabbing his upper arm and hitting it multiple times on the cold concrete floor before she secured him with handcuffs.

Emily was breathing heavily, the pain in her shoulder was throbbing and the blood was flowing down her dark blue blouse, but her eyes quickly darted to you, who was still cowering in fear in the corner. She quickly freed you from the restraints, pulled the tape from your mouth and hugged you protectively while you fell into her strong arms, sobbing in relief. She was desperately trying to calm you down with gentle words. "It's over, sweetie. You're safe."

More police sirens and their team approached their position in the warehouse as Emily, continuing to ignore her sore shoulder, carefully led you out of the darkness. You shivered uncontrollably in her arms as the cold night air enveloped you, but you also felt a soothing warmth as you clung to your rescuer.

The emotions that overwhelmed you and dragged every fiber of your body into a deep quagmire left you struggling to breathe, and tears began to stream inexorably down your cheeks. Emily pulled you closer to her, feeling the tremble on the side of her body and your pulse beating wildly in your arms as she held you gently. "It's over. You're safe and nothing can happen to you anymore."

Her words were a distant echo in your head as you sobbed desperately, the weight of fear and agony of the last day released in an overwhelming torrent of tears. Your legs felt weak, like you couldn't take another step, but Emily supported you gently, her presence like an anchor in the middle of a violent storm at sea.

The environment around you seemed to fade and you were unsure of your voice, however a few words came out quietly between the sobs, barely audible but full of gratitude and deep relief that Emily had saved you. "Thank you, Agent Prentiss. Thank you for helping me. I thought I would never get out of there alive again."

"That's my job, sweetie. I loved doing it," Emily hugged you gently again, her own heart heavy with compassion. She stroked your back soothingly while a gentle kiss touched your hair. "You've been brave and now you're here and I'm with you. It's over."

The minutes passed as you slowly came out of shock and regained your composure. Your breaths became deeper and slower, your heart calmed and its pulse rate normalized. Emily continued to hold you gently in her arms by the ambulance steps, supporting you until your tears stopped and you were assessed by the paramedics. “Can I go home please?” You murmured in a shaky voice, looking up at her, your eyes red and tired.

The agent nodded gently and stood, lending you a hand to hold you before leading you to her car that was parked nearby. You felt exhausted but also relieved as you sank into the passenger seat of the car, Emily standing by your side.

The drive to your home was filled with a calming silence as Emily made sure to bring you cheerfully back to your family. Only when she sat down on the top steps of your family home and convinced herself that you were safe from now on and were being looked after by trustworthy hands did she leave the house. But not without giving you her private number first so you could call her when you needed someone to talk to.

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tofics · 9 months

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Out Of This World

Chapter 1

Masterlist

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x fem!Reader x Dean Winchester

Summary: You and the Mikaelsons are fighting a powerful witch that's trying to take over New Orleans. The only solution: banishment to another universe. However, the spell goes... wrong, and it's not the witch that ends up in another universe, but you. - At the same time, over a thousand miles away in a bunker in Lebanon, Kansas, an alarm goes off: a rift has opened up. The Winchesters and their angel partners in crime decide to investigate. What will they find when they get to New Orleans?

Word count: 4949 words

Warnings: cursing, violence, murder, mention of blood, allusions of panic attacks.

You skidded around the corner, barely missing a stack of cardboard boxes by an inch. You jumped around it, almost flying past the pile. Your blood was rushing in your ears, your heart almost jumping out of your chest, pumping the adrenaline through your body. Behind you, you heard the evil snicker of your persecutor, hard on your heels. Before you knew it, you reached a wall that cut off your path abruptly. A dead end. You were cornered.

Slowly, you turned around. There she was, a sneer cutting across her face. Despite the few feet between you, you could see the glint in her dark eyes. Again, the witch laughed triumphantly.

"Really? An evil laugh for an evil witch? How terribly cliché," you pressed out between two wheezes. There was a sharp stitch on your right side. Running had never been your thing anyway. You leaned down and rested your hands on your knees while trying to catch your breath. Once this is over, you really have to get into better shape, you told yourself.

The witch was still sneering at you, taking her sweet time to make a move on you. You could imagine that she was enjoying this thoroughly. What started as a challenge for power, trying to dethrone Niklaus and his siblings as rulers of the French Quarter, had resulted in a bloody, messy, magical war. For months, she had been threatening the Mikaelsons and everyone that stood by them. Where threats didn't work, death followed. Quite a few of the Mikaelson's closest followers and allies had lost their lives to the woman in front of you, and yet, you were sure to rank high on her win list: as Elijah's girlfriend, she'd probably enjoy your death a lot more than any of her previous kills. This particular death would strike them hard. Shake them to the core. Possibly - hopefully - destabilize them to a point where they'd fall apart from within and she could easily pluck them apart, one by one, until all of the siblings where gone.

"Not even a true Mikaelson, and yet you're just as snarky as the rest of them. What an obnoxious trait. So full of yourself, all of you. It's a disease. But, not to worry. I'll have that cured in no time," the witch quipped back at you, with so much sweetness in her voice that it made you gag.

"Who's full of herself now?" you muttered to yourself. The sorceress in front of you tsk-ed at you and got into casting stance. She reached into her cloak and brought a fistful of something to her mouth before blowing into her closed fist. Black dust spewed out from between her fingers and hung in the air in front of her like black glitter. You straightened at the sight of her palms turning towards you, the first few words of a spell that was sure to bring you death (and a painful one at that) slowly meandering out from between her lips like a snake, inching itself towards its victim relentlessly.

Okay, feel free to intervene any second now, you thought, trying not to glance around for the rescue that you knew was coming. This plan had been weeks in the making and you weren't about to foil it by giving anything away by accident. Soft dark clouds, looking like droplets of black ink in water were forming around you, slowly at first, then faster and faster. Your eyes began to water as the dark vapor drifted closer and started to engulf you. It stung in your nose, giving off a terrible sulfur stench. You tried your best not to inhale it, but soon you were completely enveloped in the black mist. The first breath burned a straight trail down into your lungs and set them on fire. You began to cough, grasping at your throat, slowly choking on the dark magic the witch was blanketing you with.

Your lungs felt like they were on fire, both from the growing lack of oxygen and the vapor that was eating itself into you. Your legs started to give out underneath you and you fell to your knees as you gasped for air.

Any... second... now... you thought, every word feeling heavy in your brain, as if every word weighed a ton. Just as your vision started to flicker and blur, you registered movement out of the corner of your eye. Something whisked past you from behind you at top speed. You heard an "oomph", followed by the sound of a body being smacked to the ground. Almost instantaneously, the black vapor that surrounded you fizzled away and fresh air finally streamed into your lungs.

You wheezed and sputtered, now on your hands and knees as snot dripped out of your mouth and mixed with your tears and spit on the ground. You were relieved to finally be breathing oxygen again, your lungs however still felt like they were on fire and your throat was about as dry as sand paper.

While you were catching your breath, a lot of action was happening in front of you. Klaus had tackled the witch to the ground and Elijah had shackled her, rendering her immobilized. He grabbed her by her collar and dragged her up against the left wall of the alley. Meanwhile, Freya came out from behind the boxes you had almost run into, hands up and feverishly mumbling, casting the incantation that was supposed to free you all of the witch's evil.

You felt a hand on your back first, and then you were lifted to your feet. Hayley was on your left and Jackson was to your right; both of them had an arm slipped through yours to hold you steady. They shot you concerned looks as you were still struggling for breath. You weakly smiled back as a gesture of I'm okay, don't worry about me.

Freya continued casting in front of you. Her voice grew louder and stronger with each word. Despite clearly being outnumbered, the evil sorceress laughed, seemingly amused by Freya's casting.

"Silence." Elijah's eyes were dark with fury as he ordered the witch to quiet, but her laugh just turned shrill before Klaus struck her across the face. Her laugh briefly sputtered as she sunk down, forced to her knees by the force of the blow. Blood dripped from her split lip and smeared across her teeth. It turned her sneer into a bloody grimace.

"You're making a grave mistake, Niklaus Mikaelson."

Now it was Niklaus' turn to laugh.

"I doubt it, Athea." He bend down on one knee in front of her. "On the contrary, actually. You know, I've got my fair share of enemies in this town. But even they have agreed that we must rid this beautiful city of this plague." Niklaus grabbed Athea by the jaw and locked it in place so she was eye to eye with him. "Now, since we cannot seem to kill you - a very annoying obstacle, I must say - we had to find a different way to get rid of you, didn't we."

Freya started to stumble, the weight of the casting taking its toll on her. Immediately, Elijah was by her side and put a hand on her shoulder. It steadied her in more than just one way. She was reaching the pinnacle of the incantation and needed her brothers' power to cast the final piece of it.

"Klaus? Less talking, more killing?!" Hayley called out from next to you. Klaus smiled in return and got back on his feet to join his brother at Freya's side.

"Right you are, little wolf. I so wish we could drag this out, but alas, time is of the essence. Farewell, Athea. You will not plague this world ever again." Klaus put his hand on Freya's open shoulder with a content smile on his face.

Freya started on the last few sentences of the spell. The air in the alley started to flicker like heat over pavement on a hot day. The hair on the back of your neck started to stand up as you felt a buzzing sensation all around you, as if someone had charged the air with electricity.

Then, Freya spoke the final words. For a moment, everything in your vision seemed to sharpen. It was eerily quiet.

Then, a massive beam of light erupted from all around you, turning the world into nothing but a bright white.

Over a thousand miles away from New Orleans, in a bunker in Lebanon, Kansas, an alarm went off. The buzzing sound vibrated through the entire place, accompanied by the red flashes of warning lights.

"Oh, what now," Dean Winchester growled. He had just begun to sort through his equipment that he'd need for the next few hours: a whole day of working on the cars in the garage of the bunker. Throw in some beers and some rock music, and you had Dean's favorite kind of day off. They'd just come back from a hunt the day before and he had been looking forward to fixing what needed fixing and mending what needed mending. He went into auto-mode when working on a car; it took his mind off things and allowed him to relax.

Dean put the wrench down that he was holding and wiped his hands on the cloth stuck in his waistline. He sighed. "Can't get one damn day of peace around here," he mumbled to himself and left the garage to head to the war room.

When he arrived, he found his brother Sam and both the angels Castiel and Jack already gathered around the map table. As he approached it, he could make out a blinking light at the south of the United States.

"What is it?" Dean peered at the speckle of light blinking feverishly on the map. Sam answered him. "It's... a rift." He looked around at the men gathered the table before he scratched his neck. "I guess the update does work. This is the first one to pop up since we tweaked the settings. At least the first one to be registered."

"Where is it?" Jack, the younger of the angels chimed in. He leaned forward to get a better look at the map. "From what I can tell... New Orleans." Sam replied after checking a few parameters. There were a few seconds of silence between the men before Dean cleared his throat. "Alright." He rubbed a hand over his face as if trying to wipe the exhaustion away that was written all over it, but to no avail. He looked exhausted and worn down. "Guess we have no choice but to check it out. Cas, get your things, we're leaving in thirty. Sam, you stay here with Jack and keep an eye on the table, 'case few more of these turn up. We'll call you if we need back up." Sam nodded and sat down to check through the table's settings while Jack slowly sunk into the chair next to him. There was a hint of disappointment in the young angel's eyes, but he didn't disagree with Dean. He knew that the older Winchester didn't fully trust him and that he had to keep his head down to earn that trust back.

Castiel and Dean left the war room in direction of their respective rooms to gather their belongings for the trip. Once they were out of earshot, Castiel leaned over to Dean. "What do you think this means?" Dean shook his head in response. "I've got no idea, but it can't be good."

The explosion of light faded just as quickly as it had started. Your eyes took a moment to adjust. Black spots danced in your field of vision and there was a penetrating ringing sound in your ears. You moaned and held your head as you stumbled around while your body tried to recover. Slowly, the ringing faded away to a barely noticeable hum and your vision cleared up too.

Once you could clearly see, you stood up straight. Your brain took a moment to register what your subconscious had picked up on within nano-seconds: something was wrong. Where just a moment ago Elijah, Freya and Klaus had stood, there was no one. Hayley and Jackson were gone from your side as well. Even the witch wasn't there. Athea's disappearance was somewhat comforting - after all, that had been the goal all along - but your stomach churned at the sight of the empty spots where your family and friends should have been.

Did the spell transport all of them? you wondered while temporarily frozen in place. It was like your body had to catch up to what your brain was processing. A slow sensation of panic crept up your spine and filled your limbs with an unpleasant tingling sensation. This hadn't been part of the plan. They weren't all supposed to disappear. Just Athea. "Okay, breathe," you told yourself and forced yourself to follow your own order. You took a few deep breaths and unclenched the fists that your hands had formed into, stretching out your fingers a couple of times before you quickly shook your shoulders loose. You can figure this out.

For a lack of a better option, you head towards the entrance of the alley. Perhaps they got thrown back by the power of the spell, you mused. After all, you'd been further away from Athea and the siblings. That didn't explain Hayley and Jackson's disappearance, but you figured you had to start somewhere.

Your legs were still a bit wobbly, presumably from both the near-death experience of choking on magical vapor as well as being light-bombed. You took it slow, taking your time with each step until you were sure that you wouldn't keel over. The extra time it cost you to reach the entry of the alleyway gave you plenty opportunity to inspect your surroundings for any clues about where your people might have disappeared to. You looked around for any signs of foul play while the never-ending feeling that something, something just wasn't right nagged at you. Something was off.

That's when it hit you.

Your stomach lurched as you reached the entrance of the alley where you'd carried out your big plan and you realized what exactly was wrong. There had been spray paint on the wall behind where Klaus had tackled Athea to the floor. Nothing groundbreaking, just a tag someone had quickly sprayed on the bricks. Now, however, the wall was bare. It was still the same old brick wall, covered in specks of dirt here and there, but there was no spray paint on it. The stack of boxes that you'd almost knocked over was also missing. It should have been to your left, but it wasn't. In fact, there wasn't a single card-box in sight. The alleyway wasn't exactly 'clean', but it wasn't nearly as packed with litter and trash as it had been just a few moments ago.

"No... no, no, no, no." Your whisper grew more panicked with each syllable. The faint humming sound in your ears picked back up as your blood began to rush through your body again. Panic rose in your chest and tightened its grip until you felt like you couldn't breathe, oxygen be damned.

The spell had worked. They had successfully sent someone to an alternate universe, just like they had planned. It just wasn't Athea who'd been transported from one universe to another.

It was you.

Elijah experienced the finale of their plan take place on various levels. He heard Freya cast the last piece of the incantation. He felt it, too, the energy that flowed through his and his brothers arm into Freya, their conduct for the spell. Once his sister spoke the final words he felt a massive tug on his lifeforce, taking a piece so big that if he wasn't immortal, he was sure he wouldn't have survived it. They had known that the spell they had found was ancient, dark magic. The scripture had made vague points about how costly it was, but they had been sure that with his and Klaus' energy combined, they'd be able to supply Freya with all the mana that was required for the incantation to work. Still, the final piece of the cut into him with a kind of force that he'd never experienced before. It forced him to his knees and weakened his senses all at once.

Elijah didn't know if his vision blurred or if it was the air around him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Klaus go down as well. Almost the same second the energy was sucked out of him, he felt it in the air around him, charged and ready to explode at the slightest spark. He moaned, unable to move. His hand was stuck to his sister's shoulder through her magic. It felt like it had fused to Freya and they were now linked together for eternity, hand to shoulder and shoulder to hand. The energy around him grew denser and pressed on him, it trickled over his skin and left sizzling trails.

Elijah's muscles spasmed under the electric force and he groaned. A buzzing sound had built in the back of his head and was now stretching toward his frontal lobe, where it pressed against the bone of his skull from the inside. He thought his head might explode until suddenly, everything became very still, like the quiet before a storm. It lasted for about a nano-second until the energy that had condensed around him blew up and drenched the world in light until all he could see was white.

When he came to, Elijah was on the ground. Pieces of pebble were piercing through his skin where it had become exposed from his suit shifting. The buzzing sound had given away to a ringing in his ears and the growing pressure on his skull was gone. Instead it was replaced by a booming hammering sensation that sent rhythmic thrills of pain through his head. He groaned and shifted his weight so he could sit up. His eyes were still sensitive to the light and he had to partially shield them so that he could see anything, despite the light in the alley having returned to normal.

He first saw Freya. She was down on her hands and knees, shaking and panting. Next to her was Niklaus, who seemed to be recovering from the same ordeal as Elijah; the spell had knocked him out flat as well.

Elijah's gaze drifted forward. He felt the area under his eyes trickle as anger shot through him. There, hunched against the wall, lay Athea. She seemed to have been knocked back into the bricks by the force of the spell as blood was running down from the back of her head. Elijah smelled it, but it wasn't the reason for his vamp face to come to the surface. It was his anger, mixed with frustration. Clearly, the spell had worked. They'd paid the price for sure. He couldn't be killed, but he felt like he was just about as close to dying as he could be as an immortal.

So why was she still here? What had gone wrong?

He rose to his feet, fueled by anger, frustration and worry. Athea may temporarily be blacked out, but she would soon come to and he knew what she'd do then. He staggered over to the witch and grabbed her by the hair to pull her close. He was tempted to rip into her throat right then and there, to watch her lifeforce spill out of her and form a puddle beneath her useless body. But he knew it was no use. The Mikaelsons had learned soon enough that Athea had set herself up good and made sure that she couldn't be killed. Not for long, anyway. She always came back.

Elijah snarled and pushed her head back, appalled by the woman in front of him. She'd caused him and his family so much pain over the last few months and he wanted to see her pay for it. This spell had been their last hope. He had no idea what he was going to do now. How he was going to protect his family, or Hayley. How he was going to protect you.

"What... what happened?" Freya coughed behind him and crawled over to them.

"It didn't work! That's what happened!" Klaus shouted, his voice full of fury. His brother had always had a temper, but this time, Elijah felt it was justified.

"It did work, Klaus. You felt it. The spell worked. I don't understand why she's still here." Freya crawled closer to inspect Athea's unconscious body.

"Clearly, it bloody didn't! This was all for nothing!" Klaus' rage was boiling and he took it out on the wall in front of him. His fist left a cracked imprint on the bricks.

"Niklaus," Elijah warned. Niklaus' anger may have been justified, but there was no time for antics. They had to come up with a plan and they had to do it now.

"Elijah?" Hayley's voice was tinged with fear. He began to turn around to console her. "It's alright, Hayley, we'll find a w-" He abruptly stopped when he spotted the gap between Hayley and Jackson. Both of them were still standing as if they'd just been holding you up a second ago, each of them with a raised arm that had been looped through yours. Elijah got up and walked over to them as if in trance.

"Where's Y/N?" he asked. Neither Hayley nor Jackson answered him. They had no answer. Elijah rolled his sleeves up as if getting ready for battle. It was a subconscious move, a displacement activity. He felt the gnawing feeling of panic set in in his stomach.

"Hayley. Where's Y/N?" he repeated in a calm, quiet demeanor. His auto-pilot was taking over. Hayley looked at him and he saw the shock and fear in her eyes. "She... Elijah, she disappeared..." she whispered as tears welled in her eyes.

Elijah stumbled back as if her words had struck him in the face.

"No... no..." Freya was coming up behind him and stared at the spot between the two wolfs where you had been standing just a few moments ago. "But... that's impossible! It's not possible! The spell was customized to Athea, not Y/N!"

"Freya." Although Elijah said her name like a statement, the unspoken question hung in the air. His sister turned to look at him. Fear and confusion were battling for dominance on her face. "Elijah, I don't know what happened. It's not possible. None of the words I said even remotely referred to Y/N. I have no idea how..." She trailed off. Then laughter came from behind them.

"You fools! I told you you were making a grave mistake! Ha ha ha!" Athea cackled as they turned around to her. Blood was still running from her mouth and her face appeared sunken in, with dark circles forming under her eyes. She continued to laugh while she occasionally sputtered and coughed up more blood.

Klaus was the first to react. He whooshed over to her side and grabbed her by the scalp. "What did you do, you useless bitch?" he snarled at her, but Athea just kept on laughing.

"Did you really think I was going to walk into your trap like that?" Athea sneered at Klaus as a red line trickled from her mouth. Again she coughed and spat out more blood.

"No... how...?" Freya's eyes widened in shock as she registered the meaning behind Athea's words. She'd known all along what they had been up to and had somehow... what? Manipulated the spell? "A spell of this character can't be manipulated! She doesn't have the power! I needed you two to even try to pull it off and even then we weren't sure it was gonna work. There's no way she could have altered it on her own." Freya was thinking out loud while she paced around.

"Then how did she do it? Did she have help?" Jackson's rusty voice cut in. He looked around as if he anticipated a line of enemies to come out of hiding at any second and attack them.

"I don't think so. A circle to back her up would have needed to be massive and they'd have needed to be physically attached to her, like Klaus and Elijah touched me. No, she..." Again, Freya trailed off and hesitated for a moment, then she quickly walked over to Athea.

Their enemy witch looked worse by the second. Her skin had taken on a greyish tone and the circles under her eyes had turned a dark purple. Her face, however, still had a stoic, defiant expression all over it. Freya knelt in front of her and grabbed the sorceress by the shoulder. "How did you do it? How did you hijack the spell? That's the only way you could've done it!" she shouted and shook the woman in front of her. The commotion caused Athea to cough again and blood splattered across her chest. She gave Freya a crimson red smile. "Wouldn't you like to know, Freya Mikaelson."

Klaus wrapped a hand around Athea's throat and squeezed slightly. "Tell us what you did, or I'll rip your head off right here and now." His fingers pressed into her throat with more force now, visibly obstructing the witch's airflow. She gasped for air but still... smiled. "Don't waste your strength on me, Niklaus. My time has come anyway." She gasped and coughed again before she continued. "I knew what you had planned and I knew I didn't have enough power to stop the spell. I knew my time in this world was coming to an end, but I wasn't going to go without a fight." She wheezed and the air in her lungs rattled and blubbered. "What did you do!" Klaus shook her by the throat as his voice echoed through the alleyway.

"I hijacked the spell," Athea replied hoarsely and gave another of her bloody smiles. There was a sense of triumph in voice. "But how?" Freya implored. She had no idea how a spell of this character could be manipulated, let alone hijacked. Unless... Athea cackled. "A good witch never reveal's all her secrets. Isn't that what the mortals say?" Klaus tightened his grip on Athea's throat and pushed her up the wall. Her entire weight was now on Klaus' grip around her neck; her feet dangled a few inches above the ground. "There's nothing good about you, you old crone," he growled. "Enough chitchat. Tell us what you did, or I'll rip you apart limb by limb, no matter how many times it takes until you sing." The witch didn't reply. She gasped for air, but her hands didn't claw at Klaus' hand like any other person might've done. Below them, Freya knelt down and inspected the ground. She soon found what she was looking for and rubbed a pinch of the black powder between her fingers.

"Klaus." The hybrid didn't relent his grip on Athea's throat, so Freya started again. "Klaus, it's no use. She's dying anyway." "Whatever do you mean?" Elijah approached the three of them from behind. Hayley and Jackson followed on his heel. "Just what I said. She's dying." His sister held out her hand to him and showed him the black stains. "When I was still with Daliah, she once told me about the myth about the fruit of the tree of life. Supposedly you could use its dried remnants to redirect any spell or curse thrown at you with ease, but no one had found a fruit in centuries. It was presumed to have gone extinct." Freya gestured over to Athea as she continued. "I have no idea how she got one... but this is what she must have used to redirect the spell to Y/N."

"Okay, great, that's one question answered. But why is she dying? I thought she couldn't die?" Hayley defensively crossed her arms in front of her chest. "She can't, not in a traditional way. But this spell is so old and so powerful, it overwrites any other spell. It becomes the default setting. Any power that she invested into enchantments to secure her life must have been redirected into our incantation, to uphold her end of the bargain, so to say. She traded Y/N for herself. Even if she only hijacked the spell and didn't try to counter it, it must have cost massive amounts of mana." The Mikaelson witch paused and briefly looked down. "So much, in fact, that all of her previous enchantments weren't enough. So she's paying with her life."

"Aren't you a clever little witch. It's a pity Dahlia lost control over you. We could have benefited from a clever one like y-" Athea was abruptly cut off when Elijah zoomed over to her and ripped off her head. It fell to the ground with a soft thump and rolled a couple of times before coming to a halt a few feet away from its previous body.

"Freya," Elijah said as he got his handkerchief out and cleaned a few bloody stains from his hand. "Tell me you know how to bring Y/N back, now that you've discovered the reason for this... mishap." The threat in his voice wasn't meant for his sister. He'd stared at the bodiless head on the ground as he had spoken.

"That's just it, brother. I have no idea."

A/N: It's here! I'm so excited! 🥳 This was so much fun to write and I can't wait to get started on the next chapter. This one got kind of long, but I felt that that was necessary to set the whole story up properly. The next chapter(s) might not be as long 😅 Depending on how much time I can find in the next days it should be up by next week.

Continue reading here: Chapter 2

Feedback is greatly appreciated! Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist ☺️

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@vicmc624 @foreverrandomwritings

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honorarysimp · 3 months

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10: Grievances

series masterlist

You’d called the mayor to let her know about your findings, however the call was quickly cut as your phone just… shut off in your hand.

For a moment, confusion, you turn your head to look at Tara with a question on your tongue.

The car shook violently, like something had slammed into the side of it. You watch Tara grip the wheel, relining back on to the road.

“What the-“

As you sped towards town, the atmosphere in the car changes in a sharp shift. There had been an underlying tension, but now the sense of impending danger hung heavy in the air.

Suddenly, the headlights of the car reveal a dark, shadowy figure blocking the road. The only indication of a presence being that ominous white mask. Tara instinctively slams on the brakes, but it was too late. The figure disappears into the night with a blink of the eye, an overwhelming sense of dread washing over you as the engine spluttered out.

The air in the car suddenly felt thicker, the shadows in the car seemed to grow darker. Your heart begins to race, breaths coming in short, shallow gasps.

Your words come out as a panicked yell, voice trembling with fear. "Drive! Drive!" you shout, eyes wide and filled with terror.

As the word escape your lips, an earsplitting shriek echoes through the night just outside the car, the sound so haunting that it seemed to crawl beneath your skin. It felt like a tangible presence, a manifestation of pure evil that was bearing down on you both.

The car engine roared back to life as Tara harshly twists the key in the ignition and slams her foot on the pedal, the vehicle lurching forwards as it shoots down the road.

Your head is abruptly filled with a chorus of static, the white noise overwhelming and unbearable. But among the chaos, you could hear its voice. It was like a thousand incoherent whispers, each more sinister than the last, echoing through your mind.

Overwhelming dread consumes you, your heart racing as you fought to maintain control. Each beat felt like a punch against your chest, your breaths coming in shallow, ragged gasps. The weight of its presence presses closer, its cold, invisible tendrils wrapping around your psyche, threatening to consume you.

The car lurches to one side, the tires screeching against the road as Tara swerves to avoid the entity that had suddenly reappeared out of the fog. Your head slams against the window, the unexpected motion adding to the chaos within you.

The car veers right, then left, each maneuver a desperate attempt to avoid the invisible attacker. The headlights cut through the fog in short bursts, providing brief glimpses of the road ahead before plunging you back into the disorienting mist.

The shriek, echoing through the night, seems to shatter the world around you. And then far too quickly, the vehicle is launched off the road in a temporary weightless state, the impact sending it into a tumble.

The car rolls over and over, the metal frame groaning and twisting with each violent flip. You reach out instinctively, arm shooting across Tara’s chest, securing her in the seat as you try to shield her from the jolts and jerks.

The car finally comes to a grinding halt, the sudden stop leaving you both disoriented and reeling. Extended in the air, hanging upside down, the seatbelts the only thing keeping you both from falling to the roof of the car.

“Tara-“ you groan, trying to crane your neck, panic filling your chest.

“I’m okay, I’m okay-“

Another furious roar echoed through the night, the sound making the hairs on the back of your necks stand on end. Your hearts race, the adrenaline pumping through your veins as you both frantically claw at seatbelts, desperate to escape the overturned vehicle.

Eventually the buckle comes loose, you barely manage to twist your body so you don’t land on your head. You distinctly hear a thump against the roof out of your field of vision, a clear indicator Tara had also gotten herself free.

With effort, you manage to maneuver yourself on to your back, a pained and determined yell ripping from your throat as your boot makes contact with the shattered windshield until it gives away.

“Come on, give me your hand, you okay?” you say once you’ve crawled out, reaching back in for Tara to help her out. Another shriek from the fog, foreboding and growing close, like a predator stalking prey for fun.

“The book-“ Tara says as you get her to her feet, wincing as she reaches down as if to go back into the overturned car.

“Fuck the book, I’m the book now” you say as you tug her towards you and away from the car that beginning to smell heavily of gasoline, not a good sign.

You cup her face and give her a quick once over, she’s dazed but the small nod she gives you makes you feel temporary relief. Your mind is a garbage disposal of thoughts, each more chaotic than the last. Your heart pounds in your chest, the adrenaline coursing through your veins like fire.

The voice in your head, once a whisper, is now a roar, its presence overwhelming. It echoed through every corner of your mind, its malice tangible.

As the entity barrels through the fog towards you, you push Tara behind you, shielding her with your body. Your mind races as it searches for a plan.

She tugs on your arm, her eyes wide with terror as you swivel to face her. "There's a house!" she yells, and you feel the urgency in her voice as she heads for it almost instantly. Expecting you to follow.

Move. Move your fucking feet. MOVE.

Your feet pound against the ground as you race towards the house after her, each step sending a jarring shock through your body. The entity's presence is overwhelming in your mind, its connection throbbing in time with your frantic heartbeat. The dread it radiates tastes like copper in your mouth, the air thick with malevolence.

The entity's voice echoes through your mind, a sickening chant of doom. "You can't escape. You won't be able to protect her."

The words are like needles stabbing into your already racing skull, the truth behind them sending dread coursing through you.

You have to save her. You have to. You will.

As you both reach the house, you chance a glance back. The car was aflame, the fire sparked amongst the chaos greedily consuming the wreckage, the heat almost tangible even from a distance.

The light from the blazing flames flicker, casting macabre shadows over the nearby foliage. And in the midst of the flickering light, the entity appears, no longer in the simple deceiving form of a costume. It was a twisted, warped skeletal form, its long, shadowy limbs stretching out unnaturally.

You both froze, bodies going cold as ice. The sight of the entity rooting you to the spot, your minds struggling to process the surreal horror of it all.

The urgency that coursed through you gave way to desperate action. You begin searching for a way to break the door down, thoughts racing in panic.

With a burst of inspired genius, Tara sheds her jacket and wraps it around one of the rusted metal railing poles, pulling it free to use it as a makeshift battering ram. You don’t even blink twice to assist her as together, you pry the boards off the door with a jarring, metallic screech.

Just as you force the door open, the entity vanishes back into the concealing fog, disappearing as suddenly as it had appeared.

You stumble inside, legs shaking from overexertion and exhaustion. Your breaths came in ragged gasps as you turn to her. "Help me barricade the door," you manage to say between breaths, voice hoarse.

She shoots you a disbelieving look, her brow furrowing as she replies between her own unstable breaths. "Are you serious? Do you really think barricading the door is going to stop something that just flipped the fucking car? A door isn't gonna stop it."

The logic in her words is undeniable, each syllable a harsh reminder of the situation. Yet, a part of you can’t help but try and cling to the illusion of safety the door provided.

With shaky hands, she manages to fish out her phone and fumbles to dial a number, phone pressed to her ear as she also digs out her inhaler and takes a deep puff from it. You hear her mumbling something, her voice a low murmur that is lost to your ears. You want to focus on her, want to hear what she is saying, but the sudden pain that shot through your head is more demanding.

The entity's voice returns, filling your mind like a vile flood. It was a cacophony, a chorus of sinister whispers, each word a sharp sting against your mental.

The entity's voice was a roar now, its anger practically tangible in the psychic link that ties it to you.

"You," it hisses, each syllable filled with an anger that bordered on unhinged. "You read the book. You think you can stop me. You dare oppose me?"

The words echo through your mind, each one sending a stab of panic through your already frayed nerves. The entity's vendetta is palpable, its desire for your downfall a burning presence in your mind.

Your hands shoot up to your temples, a vain attempt to shut out the noise. The words, when you can make them out, are like icy tendrils, wrapping around your thoughts and leeching away your will.

The entity's voice is a menacing hiss, the threat in its words sending a chill down your spine. "You will suffer," it promised. "Before I end your life, I will make you wish you’d never been born."

And then, just as suddenly as the entity had appeared in your mind, it vanishes, leaving you reeling. That’s when you become aware of the hands currently on you now, Tara’s touch grounding you, keeping you from the brink of madness.

Her touch is gentle, eyes wide with concern as she looks you over. Her voice cut through the chaos in your head, pulling you back to the present.

"Are you with me?" she asked, her voice low and steady.

You attention shifts to her, eyes locking onto her face. As you did, you notice the thin trickle of blood running down from her brow. That wasn’t there earlier. You reach out, fingers brushing it away with a tender touch.

You finally nod, the fog of panic and chaos slowly clearing from your mind. Your focus returning, your body still tense but at least somewhat calmed.

"Who did you call?" You ask, voice still slightly shaky. You push aside the sense of impending doom that hung over you, focusing on her instead.

"Backup," she replied simply, her voice barely above a whisper.

As she spoke, you both froze. The sudden creaking of a door echoing from somewhere on the other side of the house, the unexpected sound sending a jolt of alarm through you both.

You gently grab her arm and tug her to the side, out of sight and behind a large cabinet. You flatten against the wall, backs pressed into the cool wood.

The steps are faint, but they are definitely there. Slow and steady, methodically approaching as you held your breaths.

The steps grow louder, each one seeming to echo around you, closing in relentlessly. The slow, deliberate pace only adding to the sense of dread, the anticipation mounting with each passing second.

The air felt heavy, the silence in the house almost oppressive. Every sound seemed amplified, every creak and groan of the old house adding to the tense atmosphere.

You meet her gaze, pressing a finger to your lips in a gesture of silence. You then point towards the adjacent room, signalling for her to move quietly.

With a nod, she understood, her face a mask of fear and resolve. You both begin to inch away from the cabinet, each movement slow and calculated to avoid drawing the entity's attention.

As you take one last glance behind you, the world seemed to slow down. It was just a second, a brief glance that you’d taken hundreds of times before. But this time, it was all it took.

Tara’s cry of pain shattered the silence, her voice ringing through the tense atmosphere. Your head whips around, heart dropping to your stomach as you realize what happened.

The entity stood there, its twisted form hidden beneath the haunting mask of Ghostface. The knife in its hand was raised, its intention clear. She'd thrown her arms up in a desperate attempt to protect herself, the blade piercing through her hand instead of her body.

The sight was sickening, the pain in her eyes a gut-wrenching reminder of the precarious situation. You could only watch, heart in your throat, as she wrenches away and clutches her injured hand to her chest.

Her eyes wide with terror as she turns to run, but Ghostface is faster. It raises the knife high, preparing to bring it down on her defenseless back.

“TARA!”

You hurl forward, every ounce of your body weight behind the tackle. You collide with Ghostface, the impact sending you both crashing to the floor, the knife clattering out of the entity's hand.

In that moment, as you hit the floor, you realize with a chilling sense of horror that the entity could actually take on a physical form. It had to, in order to interact in their world.

The entity’s form convulsed, the twisted image of Ghostface wavering like a bad dream. Then, a guttural growl bellows from beneath the mask, the sound so unnatural it sent chills down your spine.

“Move, goddamn it!” you hear Tara say, her hands gripping at your shirt to try and pull you away from Ghostface.

The entity moves with a speed that defied reason. Within the blink of an eye, it had retrieved the knife and lunged at you, its voice a chorus of menace echoing through your mind.

You try to stand, to run, but you aren’t fast enough. The knife slices through the air, cutting through the flesh at the back of your leg. You stumble, falling to the floor, a cry of pain tearing from your throat.

“Fuck you asshole!”

With a desperate kick of your good leg, your foot connects solidly with Ghostface’s white mask, catapulting it back and sending it tumbling. Tara rushes forward, her injured hand clutched to her chest as she struggles to help you up from the floor.

“Come on, I got you, I got you” Tara mutters, you’re both out of it with your only goal to live. With her help, you manage to get on your feet, breathing rapid and ragged through the stabbing pain searing from your leg.

The sound of a car horn blared through the eerie silence from outside the house, from the window headlights sear through the foggy night. It was a sound so unexpected, so out of place, that it sent a surge of hope through you.

With a final burst of energy, you rush toward the front door, desperation fueling your every step even as your leg threatens to buckle under you.

It’s in this moment you’re glad you didn’t barricade the door, thanks to Tara’s logic.

You’re limping, injured leg sending jolts of searing pain with each step. The blood is flowing freely, the hot wetness staining your pant leg in a stark warning. But Tara’s holding onto your arm around her shoulders, her good hand gripping your wrist in a vice as she half drags, half guides you towards the car.

"Hurry!" voices called from the car, the sense of urgency in their tone palpable. But you’re too busy to respond, every ounce of focus directed towards the car and the danger that is quickly in pursuit from behind.

The entity burst out of the house, its rage palpable, its twisted form hell-bent on stopping you.

You really prefer it parading around in a goddamn Halloween costume and mask.

With a final burst of effort, you hurl yourselves into the back seat, the car door slamming shut as it peeled off at a breakneck speed. The motion sent a new wave of pain through your injured leg, but you grit upur teeth and ignore it, relief mixing with the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Your head is pounding, each beat a brutal reminder of the entity's fury. But as you glance out the window, you notice something. The fog is breaking up, the grey wall of mist thinning as the car speeds onward.

You let out a sigh of relief, the fact that the fog would slow down the entity for a now small but much-needed reprieve.

You snap back to the present, your rescuers' features coming into sharper focus. Recognition hit you suddenly: they’re Tara’s friends, the twins. Chad in the drivers seat, attention fixed on the road ahead, while Mindy in the passenger seat is leaned over the center console, wrapping cloth around Tara’s wounded hand.

“-fucking insane I can’t believe this-“

“-did you see that thing?! What the fuck?!”

“-there’s no way this is real, I didn’t sign up for this shit-“

“GUY PLEASE” Tara shouts, exhausted and wincing as she leans back once Mindy is done wrapping her hand, “you saw it, it’s real. Leave it at that for now please.”

They look ready to protest but you speak up, weak and a little woozy, how much blood had you lost? “We’ll never get the chance to explain if we don’t make it to the lake to stop this thing.”

Chad glances back through the rear view mirror, “the lake? Fuck no. Fuck no, I’m not going back there-“

“We don’t have a fucking choice! It’s either that or that thing kills everyone!” You shout, even if it’s weakly, patience wore thin and under no condition to really deal with bullshit.

“Shit, your leg, (Y/N)” Tara says suddenly, pain etched on her face as she shifts, hand cradled to her chest as she tries to tug up on the pant leg of your injured one.

Even when it hurts, and god it fucking hurts, you find yourself looking at her through the sharp fire scorching to your bones.

“Did you just say my name?”

A look of disbelief crosses her face, and for a moment you actively decide to ignore everything as you feel a flicker of nostalgia. It’s the same look she gave you when you’d asked her out for drinks all those months ago.

“We’re being hunted by the devil and you’re focused on the fact I said your name?”

Your head is spinning, probably going to pass out from blood loss soon, even as you see Mindy in your peripheral start tearing at your pant leg to use it as a makeshift bandage around your wound.

“I told you so long ago, and you never say it, I honestly didn’t think you remembered” you say with a half smile, dazed.

That makes her laugh, it’s dry and it doesn’t reach, almost like she can’t believe the words coming from your mouth.

Your eyes drop to her hand wrapped in cloth, the makeshift bandage does little to hide the fact that it's badly injured.

Your fault. Shes hurt and it’s your fault.

“You saved my life tonight, twice” she mutters, cutting through your self deprecating thoughts, a small bubble enveloping you both as the car pummels forward through the dark.

You look back up at her, fighting with what energy you have left to stay conscious. You aren’t going to die yet, not like this. Besides, this is just a scratch. You’ve had worse.

“And yet I still owe you for how many times you’ve saved mine” you reply, softly, voice rough.

You know what destination you’re driving towards, a place where there's no going back.

And if you fail? Well, you won’t be alive to feel the guilt.

____________________________________________

The drive goes on in tense silence, your mind lost in thought. You tune out most of the conversation happening between Tara and the twins, but you manage to catch enough fragments to piece together what she tells them.

How you’d learned about their uncle from the Mayor, and how he was the key to potentially finding a way to stop the entity. How they acquired the book, which was cursed, that you’d read, and is now gone. That you’d found only a temporary solution, but it's the best you have for now. You can't help but feel a mixture of anxiety and hope, the uncertainty that this might not work is heavy.

A sacrifice, the book had said. What kind? Still unknown, but when you’d spoke to Sidney earlier she’d promised to find something. Tara hasn’t been a fan of sacrificing an innocent animal, but what other choice do you have.

As the car pulls to a stop, the lake looms before you, its dark waters rippling under the night sky. It's an imposing sight, the trees that line the shore adding to the ominous atmosphere. The other vehicles are parked nearby, a silent testament to the gravity of the situation.

You get out of the car, the memory of the last time you were here rushing back in a tidal wave. The darkness of the night, atmosphere thick with despair as Tara and Chad had stood on the shores, facing the reality that their friend was gone, just like everyone else.

You steel yourself, squaring your shoulders, determined with the drive to never let that happen again. It ends here.

You limp, leg wrapped but still throbbing with pain. Chad quickly steps up to offer assistance, his hand a firm and steady support as you make your way towards the lake. A mutter of thanks comes from you, but you aren’t sure if he hears it. If he does he doesn’t reply. Meanwhile, Tara and Mindy forge ahead, leading the way with a familiarity that speaks to their history growing up here.

As you and Chad follow, you notice the group gathered on the shoreline. There's the Mayor and her husband, looking tense and anxious, the Sheriff and his wife, their expressions a mix of determination and concern, Stu sat on a log nearby, and Sam who is pacing off to the side.

The moment their footsteps can be heard, Sam rushes over as they reach the shoreline, her eyes widening in horror as she takes in their condition. Her expression is one of deep concern and worry, her voice cracking as she asks, "I swear to god if you keep disappearing without telling me- what the hell happened to you two?"

Tara tries to explain exasperatedly, her voice tense with urgency and fear. "There's no time," she says, eyes darting nervously around the dark surroundings. "We have no idea how long it'll take for Ghostface to catch up with us. We need to get this done now."

There's a scramble as everyone rushes around, grabbing various items needed for the ritual. You can see the urgency written in every move as people hurry to gather what's needed. It's a tense atmosphere, filled with the anxious energy of the group as they work to remember the details from the lost book.

You take the moment to approach the mayor's husband, your leg numb at this point as you grab a fistful of his shirt to get his attention while everyone is focused on the preparations. Billy looks startled, his eyes widening in surprise as he turns to look at you, confusion clear on his face.

You fix him with a hard stare, voice low and serious. “Don’t think for a second I’ve forgotten what you did to me," you growl, grip on Billy’s shirt tightening. "I remember you burying me alive. So you better know which side you're on, because everyone's life is at stake here. No more tricks, no more bullshit. You got that?"

Billy shoves you off, his expression chilling as he retorts, "I did what I had to do for him," his voice ice-cold and detached. He straightens his shirt, the man's demeanor shifting to one of cold indifference. It's a stark reminder of the depth of his devotion and the lengths he's willing to go.

You, fed up with Billy’s cold stature, press further. "What the hell do you mean?" You demand, voice low and tense.

Billy meets your gaze unflinchingly, his expression now sour as he responds, "I had the book before any of you even knew it existed. I had it before he disappeared."

Your furrow your brow in confusion, your voice betraying your bewilderment. "You mean Randy?" You ask, trying to make sense of Billy’s comment.

Billy’s irritation bleeding through his facade, admits it grudgingly. "There was an accident," he begins, his voice tight and controlled. "Stu… died. It was my fault. I used the book to bring him back."

That makes your eyes widen, because first off what? The book had the power to revive the dead? You don’t remember reading that.

Billy continues, his voice taut and uneasy as he confesses about the entity latching on to him since he used the book. "I had to sacrifice someone, bury them alive to save myself," he admits, his words cold and matter of fact. "Every time that thing came back, I had to make a choice, to have someone be reborn in my place" he says, his eyes filled with a cold, calculating gaze.

“And what? Your wife means nothing to you?” You scoff in disbelief, even if it’s not your place, Sidney is a good woman that deserves better.

Billy meets your gaze unwaveringly, the cold indifference replaced by a chilling devotion. "I did what I had to do for the man I love," he admits, his voice now firm and steadfast. "The only reason I'm helping you now is because of him," he adds, his words edged with a possessive, almost obsessive love.

Your expression matches Billy’s, your voice just as harsh and cold as you respond, "I'm doing this for the woman I love, so we have an understanding." You fix him with a steely glare, your words a clear warning. "But that doesn't change what you did, and if you betray us, I will end you," you threaten, the promise in your voice clear and unwavering.

Considering everything you’d been through recently, Billy truly doesn’t pose a threat to you the way he did before, he is only a man after all.

“Do the right thing for once, maybe your soul can be saved” you find yourself saying, in any effort to try and rattle this man, get through to him the severity of this. As if he doesn’t already know.

The tension between you thickens, an unspoken understanding passing between you as your gazes lock in a fierce, intense stare. Billy’s expression is cool and calculating, a hint of a defiant challenge in his eyes, while yours is resolute and uncompromising, jaw set in a determined line. You glare at each other, the air practically crackling with an undercurrent of barely concealed animosity and hostility, but mutual understanding fuels the intense standoff.

Tara suddenly appears, her hand resting gently on your arm, her voice a soft murmur of concern as she asks, "Are you okay?"

But her eyes are fierce and full of just as much warning, fixed threateningly on Billy. Her expression is cautious, her body language protective as she moves to your side, eyeing him warily.

You wrap your arm around her, pulling her slightly closer to you as you keep your gaze fixed on Billy, voice firm and reassuring as you say, "yeah, we’re good."

Billy’s gaze flicks between you two, his eyes cold and calculating, his smirk sending a chill down your spine as he finally turns and heads back to the others, his footsteps almost deliberate as they crunch in the sand of the shoreline.

You turn to her, arm still around her, as she asks, "What happened?"

You give her a reassuring smile and explain, "I was just making sure he'll behave himself. The message seems to have sunk in, at least for now."

Tara looks up at you, her eyes searching your gaze, pausing for a moment that seems to stretch on forever. Her expression is one of uncertainty, worry etched into her features as she studies your face, her brow furrowed slightly. In that moment, the weight of the situation and the danger you’re all in hangs heavily, and the brief pause seems to encapsulate all the unspoken tensions and emotions between you.

“How’s your hand?” You ask softly, eyes dropping to the blood soaked bandage, guilt chewing at your insides.

“Better than your leg” Tara replies, and god her efforts to make you feel better in a moment like this makes you feel unworthy of her.

You feel a sudden tug at your heart, the pull of desire and emotion almost irresistible. You lean in, lips close to hers, almost instinctively now that you know you can.

For a moment you gaze into those pretty brown eyes, feeling her weight lean against you as she pushes up on to her tippy toes to meet you half way.

But when the Mayor's voice rings out, calling to everyone and letting it be known that everything is ready. The moment is shattered, and you pull back slightly, lips a whisper away from hers as you struggle to suppress your disappointment, heart tugged in two directions as the reality of the situation comes crashing back in.

But you pull away, expression apologetic and of resignation as you both turn to head over to the Mayor back to the group, the moment of intimacy slipping through your fingers like sand.

“What do you mean “go”? We can help! You can’t just-“

“You heard the Mayor” Dewey cuts Chad off, giving him a stern look, “you two go get back in your car and go, this isn’t a game-“

“We know it’s not a goddamn game, we saw that thing! Just-“

“No” Sidney says sternly, pinning them with a hard look, “I made a promise to look after you two when Randy left, you’re going-“

“Bullshit we are! Randy isn’t here! I don’t see him here trying to help! He’s a piece of-“

Dewey steps forward, chest puffed as if he were actually capable of intimidation, “now you listen here-“

“Stop” Sam cuts in, stepping forward in a way that instantly has the fight draining out of the twins. She cuts her gaze to the side, unwavering. Mindy opens her mouth to protest, but when Chad scoffs and storms off, she no longer has her backup. Her glare slices through everyone before she turns on her heel and goes after Chad.

Then Sam looks to Tara, who beats her to it with a sharp “you’re kidding yourself if you think I’m fucking going anywhere”.

Sam looks to you for help, and admittedly, you find it hilarious she thinks anything you could say would change Tara’s mind.

The lakeside is a mix of tension, fear, and eerie silence. The lake looms ahead, its dark waters rippling under the night sky, reflecting the flickering light of nearby torches. Laid out on the shore is everything needed for the ritual, a chilling array of items that seems a bit cliché. At the edge of the water, there's a goat, its presence ominous and foreboding. You don’t know who brought it, but you can't shake the feeling of unease and discomfort at its purpose in this ritual.

Everyone exists within the tense and silent atmosphere, all preparing for the ritual that is about to unfold.

You can feel the thickness in the air, a thick, palpable feeling as the group stands around the lake, each member preparing for the ritual. The silence is deafening, broken only by the occasional shuffling of feet or nervous throat clearing. Everyone's eyes are averted, focused on the ground or the sky, as if no one can bring themselves to look directly at each other or the water that laps gently at the shore. The eerie atmosphere is only heightened by the flickering light of the torches, casting long, wavering shadows across the group.

You nod curtly, acknowledging your role in this. "I know I’m just an outsider here," you start, voice steady and measured. "But since the moment I arrived, solving these disappearances has been my responsibility. Even if I didn’t know from the start that the truth would be darker than anyone here could imagine, and we’re seeing that darkness now."

As you say the words, your gaze drifts over the group, taking in their weary expressions and anxious tics. But there's also determination in their eyes, a quiet resolve to see this through. You know they all understand the gravity of the situation and the sacrifices that will have to be made.

You take a deep breath, eyes flickering to the dark waters of the lake. "Once we start this ritual, the entity will do anything to stop us," you say, serious. "We need to be prepared for whatever it throws at us, so from here on this is a team effort.”

Your voice tightens as you continues, "I can’t promise we'll all make it out alive. But I promise we'll give it everything we've got. Let’s stick it to this motherfucker and show it that it isn’t invincible.”

The air is tense, filled with an undercurrent of trepidation and fear. But there's also a palpable sense of determination as everyone stays in place, prepared for what's about to unfold. The moment hangs heavy, the group knowing the significance of what they're about to do and the potential consequences. But they also understand the need to press on, to do whatever it takes to buy themselves some time. The sense of looming doom hangs over them, but they try to stay focused on the task at hand, bracing themselves for whatever may come.

Suddenly, the calm surface of the lake is shattered as the entity bursts forth, its monstrous form emerging from the murky depths. The creature is a grotesque and horrifying sight, a twisted and nightmarish version of the human form. Its body is contorted and misshapen, covered in slimy, shifting bones and shredded flesh, and its face is a twisted visage of anger and malice. It casts an eerie and sinister air, filling the night with its presence.

Almost instantly you crumple to your knees, a pained and tortured look on your face as the entity's malevolent voice pierces in your mind, its presence suffocating. You claw at your head and cry out in pain as the men and women around you, armed with their weapons, open fire on the entity. The deafening roar of gunfire rings out through the night, filling the air as bullets streak through the night, hitting the entity with a series of wet thumps and meaty tears.

A horrendous headache throbs in a relentless pain that seems to radiate from every part of your skull. The pain is sharp and stabbing, unlike anything you’ve ever felt. It’s unbearable, making your body feel flushed with heat and break into a sweat as your body shakes almost violently. Pained cries come from your mouth, but they’re dulled out by the relentless gunfire around you.

Tara kneels next to you, her voice urgent and determined. "Come on stay with me, focus, what’s the incantation?" she asks, her eyes fixed on your face.

You can barely do such, still reeling from the entity's mental onslaught, but you grit your teeth and manages to say, “Sanguine...lacus..."

Tara repeats the words to Sidney, her voice steady and sure even as the entity rages closer, its furious presence making the air crackle with tension.

The Mayor, voice tight with determination, begins the incantation, her words echoing across the shore as she takes the reins on the banishing. "Sanguine lacus, malum abicimus..."

The entity roars in rage, the sound a chilling, monstrous bellow as it thunders towards them, its form an unstoppable nightmare from their worst fears.

Everyone stands their ground, weapons aimed at the advancing entity. They fire shot after shot, their aim steady as they try to hold back the monstrous creature.

The shots land, each one creating a wet, tearing impact on the entity's form. It roars in pain, the sound deafening and echoing through the night, but it continues to move forward, its mangled fury unrelenting and unstoppable.

Gale brings the goat forward, her hands steady as she leads the animal to Sidney. She continues the incantation as you force out every word from memory, Sidney’s tone becoming more intense, more desperate as the beast draws closer.

Sidney draws out a knife and holds it high in her hand, her eyes fixed on the terrified goat, knowing the sacrifice it will have to make to complete the ritual.

An abrupt cry of pain pierces through the night, a chilling sound that freezes everyone in place. They watch in horror as the entity grabs hold of Stu, its monstrous hand squeezing and twisting the man's body in an unnatural, bone-crushing grip. Then, with a horrifying roar, it hurls his limp body into the lake, the splash echoing in the stunned silence.

The entity's gaze turns now, locking on its next target as it thunders forward, its rage and malice clear in its every movement.

In a quick, desperate move, the Dewey pushes his wife out of harm's way just as the entity lashes out, its hand grabbing him with a bone-crushing grip.

Even as her eyes widen in horror, Sidney continues the incantation, her voice taking on an even more determined tone. Your vision is blurry, only grounded by the hand on the back of your neck as you reciting what you’d read in a dismay, the words flowing faster and more urgently. You know you’re running out of time, and the ritual must be finished before the entity can claim all of you as victims.

But it hurts, god it hurts, you can barely think. You can barely register what’s going on around you.

Sam takes aim and fires, the shot hitting the entity directly on its twisted, nightmarish face. It lets out a furious, pained roar, dropping the Sheriff’s crushed body to the ground and turning its attention to her. The entity's anger is palpable, its gaze fixed on her as it thunders forward with menacing intent.

“SAM MOVE!” you distinctly hear Tara scream, her hand twitching on the back of your neck as her instinct begs her to run to her sister.

It is Billy who throws himself forward, his eyes wide with fear and determination. He collides into the entity with a roar of his own, sending it staggering back with a loud, heavy thud. The impact seems to stagger the entity, its face contorted in surprise and pain.

Sidney lets out a horrified shout, watching as her husband puts himself in danger willingly. The entity flinches back for a moment, its usually unflinching visage showing a hint of shock and confusion at the unexpected attack.

Billy is bruised, battered, but he's not backing down. He steps forward, eyes locked with the entity's, and yells, "Come on! Take me! It's me you want!"

This idiot is going to get himself killed, what is he doing?

His voice cracks with pain, his heart torn between the care he has for his wife, for the man he loved, and the danger he now faces. He looks to the body floating in the lake, a wave of grief and agony crossing his face before he turns back to the entity, determination resolute.

Oh, now you understand.

“You took everything from me! I’m the reason you’re here, I’m the one who started this! You’re not hurting her! TAKE ME!”

Billy’s gaze then turns to Sam, his eyes locking onto hers for a brief moment, a look of apology and sadness on his face. Sam on the other hand looks completely at a loss, brow furrowed and clearly having no idea why he’s protecting her. Then, with a final shuddering breath, he squares his shoulders and turns his gaze back to the entity.

With a horrifying, ravenous roar, the entity lunges forward, its monstrous, ever-changing form enveloping the husband, consuming him in its darkness. The sight is nothing short of horrifying, the sound of his screams echoing in the air for a moment before they're silenced with a sickening crunch, drowning in the entity's void.

Sidney is shaken, her eyes wide and tearful as she witnesses the horrifying fate of her husband. But Gale’s anguished plea snaps her back to reality.

"Sidney, you have to finish!" Gale shouts, her voice harsh and determined even through her grief. Her hands clutch tightly to the Dewey’s limp form, holding him close. "Finish it now or we're all dead!”

Sidney steels herself, her gaze going back to the entity that’s now stalking towards them, its footsteps shaking the ground as it emerges further from the lake. Talons digging in the sand and it claws itself closer.

The night seems to hold its breath as the last words of the incantation are uttered from your mouth, repeated by Tara and chanted by Sidney.

As the last syllable leaves the Mayor's lips, she raises the knife, the blade gleaming in the moonlight. Tara quickly tucks her head into your shoulder as the entity lets out a panicked shriek that has your ears ringing, your arms circling around her as your eyes snap shut.

And then, as if on cue, a silence falls over the lake, the woods, the entire area. The only sound is the distant howling of the wind, and the gentle lapping of the water against the shore.

The group fall into stunned silence, eyes wide and bewildered, you open your eyes as you slowly come to terms with the lack of noise and motion. No longer disoriented by the entity's presence, you snap out of the daze it had you in, the emptiness in your head both a relief and an unsettling surprise.

As Tara pulls away from you, you all look around at each other, confusion and uncertainty written on all faces. The silence is almost surreal, leaving everyone feeling unmoored and out of sorts.

The air is heavy with an unnatural stillness, the water licking against the shore in a soft and eerie rhythm. The once harsh and active surroundings have become eerily silent, the only sound being the faint, distant hum of cicadas or the occasional hoot of an owl.

Every now and then, a subtle shift in the air or the rustle of leaves in the trees hint at the presence of something just beyond perception, a sense of danger lurking in the shadows. It's as if the entity has been banished but its presence still lingers, a faint and unsettling reminder of the horrors you’d witnessed.

All around, the carnage left behind by the entity's attack is evident. The once-tranquil lakeshore is now scarred and torn apart, the ground stained with blood bearing the scars of the battle. The air carries a faint, metallic scent, the aftermath of the violence and bloodshed. It's a sobering reminder of the cost of what was endured, and a warning of the fragility of victory.

Sam quickly hurries to Tara, wrapping her in a tight, desperate hug. Tara clings to her, her body shaking with silent sobs as the reality of what they've been through finally settles in.

Now somewhat composed, you turn your gaze to the Sheriff. You grimace at the man's condition, knowing the injuries are severe. Gale holds him tenderly, her own tears falling silently as she murmurs words of comfort to him.

Your eyes wander to Sidney, your heart heavy at the defeated, disoriented look on her face.

As the goat darts off into the woods, fleeing the chaotic scene, you notice it out of the corner of your eye escape to freedom. You make a mental note of it, as your attention is quickly drawn back to Billy, now lying motionless on the shore. And Stu, whose body no longer floats on the surface of the lake, vanished.

A wave of emotions wash through you, the sight a stark and painful reminder of the sacrifices made to try to stop the entity. They were psychos, tried to kill you even, but had sacrificed themselves at the end of the day. You look back to Sidney, her gaze fixed on her husband's lifeless form, grief and guilt etched all over her face.

You wince, the pain from your injured leg returning tenfold as you push yourself to your feet. You survey the group, eyes scanning the weary and battered faces around you.

"Is it over?" you ask, voice hoarse and raw. "Is it finally over?"

The silence that follows is heavy and unsettling. The only sound comes from the gentle movement of the water along the shore, a strange and eerie contrast to the chaos of moments before.

Sam glances around at the group, her eyes falling on Billy’s lifeless body. "I don’t understand… no sacrifice was made," she says, her voice filled with confusion.

Sidney looks up, her voice thick with grief and determination. "Sacrifices were made," she answers, her eyes flickering momentarily to her husband's body, to Dewey’s. "They just weren't… quite what we expected."

You limp towards Gale, steps slow and labored as your leg thrums with pain. Your heart heavy with grief and uncertainty, glancing down at Dewey’s body, still cradled in Gale’s arms.

You look to her, voice low and thick with uncertainty. "Is he... is…?" you trail off, a palpable tension in the air as you wait for her answer.

Gale is tearful, her eyes red and puffy from crying as she looks up to you. She clutches his body tighter, her voice shaking as she speaks.

"He sacrificed himself for me," she chokes out in a tight whisper, face twisted with agony. "He... he pushed me out of the way, always has to be the hero. I'll never..." She trails off, throat bobbing as she tries to swallow, the grief too thick to speak. "I'll never be able to repay him for that."

Sidney approaches, her own eyes glimmering with tears as she kneels down next to Gale. She places a gentle, consoling hand on the woman's arm, her voice gentle and sincere as she speaks.

"He was a good man," Sidney says, her voice choked and breaking. "A great Sheriff, and a goddamn hero to the town."

Gale nods, her shoulders shaking as she breaks into deep sobs. She holds her husband's body close, her tears falling unchecked as she rocks him gently in her arms. The weight of her loss is palpable, the sight a poignant and heart-wrenching reminder of the sacrifices made tonight.

You’re taken off guard by a sudden impact against your chest, arms wrapping around you, the unexpected movement catching you off guard. You grunt in surprise, injured leg protesting at the sudden jolt.

But you quickly relax, the shock giving way to a wave of relief and gratitude as you wrap your arms around Tara, holding her close in a tight, comforting embrace.

You tighten your hold on Tara, voice soft and soothing. "I'm okay," you reassure her, feeling her trembling form against your own. "Everything's going to be okay now."

You find yourself meeting Sam’s exhausted gaze over Tara’s shoulder, the both of you sharing a nod of acknowledgement. Despite the horrors endured over the last few months, you’re all alive. You all survived. Somehow.

The setting is still and quiet, the lake's surface disturbingly calm and tranquil after the violence that had shattered logic and reality. You all process together, battered and exhausted, the reality of achieving survival slowly sinking in.

But for now, as the first rays of sunlight peek over the horizon, you’re safe. For now.

A sudden, eerie silence falls over the group, a chilling symbol that while the entity may be gone, the concept of peace - and its physical absence - is only temporary.

But for now, for this moment, what matters most to you is the woman in your arms.

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