#that exist in the world of the fic but not our. if that makes sense

[reds-skull]

BLOOD||HUNGER

[AO3]

Sooo I maybe started writing the new AU already... and maybe already wrote 2 chapters...

I'll say it on ao3, but I'm planning on having longer chapters for this fic compared to Not Alive, Nor Dead, so I won't be posting as frequently. That being said, I did write these 2 chapters in 2 days so... it might happen anyway lmao.

Also, I'll be putting the cut before the chapter so it will be easier to scroll by if any of you aren't interested.

As a sidenote, for this fic I'll be adding qoutes at the top of each chapter, and I suggest reading them because they are pretty important to the story!

Now, onto chapter 1, "Wræclast (Path of Exile)"

Page 1 of the “Blooede Starvatfōre-dēde”, parable 1:

Often were the stars, the only witness to me, To my regrets, to the stories of a fallen knight, It is only the sun and moon, that could hear my words, And yet none understand, the cries of a fallen man, The man who hides friends, in dark and rich earth, A friendless man, that he is. Where have the horses gone? Where have their masters leapt? Where have the knights fallen? The dark is all he knows, nightshadows risen, He walks alone, a blind man.

Often was Soap told, “stop trying to be the hero, MacTavish.”

He was told that by his CO on the mission that earned him his callsign, where he first found the true meaning of war. He was told that on missions he refused to listen, where he would run off to try and save what little life was left to die.

He was told that on the day he was dishonorably discharged for disobeying direct orders.

John likes to pretend life afterwards was peaceful. That while, yes, he hasn’t held down a job for longer than 4 months since, and he’s behind on a couple of months on rent, and he walks alone more often than not, he is happy. Content.

Right now, drenched in rainwater and mud, acting amounts to fuck all.

His heart beats fast, faster than it ever did on the field. Because this isn’t the field, John isn’t a soldier. He doesn’t belong in wars anymore.

John’s eyes dart around the dark alleys of the city, the silence a discomfort more than anything. Silence means everything else has ran away, or died. He shudders again, the chill biting through his clothes (civilian, flimsy, made more for show than any practicality), when he hears a whimper. He freezes in his tracks and strains his ears.

“Shhh” a small voice whispers, following words in a language he doesn’t understand. They belong to someone young, far too young to be here alone.

A voice in his mind tells John to turn away. “Don’t be a hero. Don’t be a hero.” it screams. John tramples it down.

He doesn’t need to be a hero, but he won’t ignore the literal cries of children. He can take them with him as they get out of this city.

Not a hero. Not a fucking hero.

John slowly gets closer to the sobbing kids, zeroing in on a small shed, its wooden doors rotten. “Hey” he whispers softly, and the voices instantly quiet. “I’m not gonna hurt ye, I’m not one of them.” 

The doors creak slightly as one eye peaks at him, wide and teary. He keeps his hands above his head, showing his lack of gear and weapons. After a few moments, the door opens.

A child, no older than 13, hugs a toddler, both big eyes look over him concernedly. John smiles, tried to seem reassuring even as his heart breaks a little more. It’s not a sight he ever got used to, children in war zones. He hoped he wouldn’t see it again, but life, as they say, finds a way.

“Where are yer parents?” John lowers his arms and squats slowly. The older kid frowns, opening and closing her mouth. “They… not...” she mumbles in English, sputtering a few more words he doesn’t know.

“Do ye know where they are?” he tried asking.

The kid carefully lets go of the toddler, their sibling, John assumes, and starts motioning with her arms.

She folds her fingers in the shape of a pistol, brings it to John’s head, and presses the pretend trigger. Her eyes don’t waver from his, and it strikes him how empty they are, as if all life bled out of them with the mimed shot.

John nods. He wished he had time to let them mourn, but he fears for the moment they hear boot-clad steps echo through the streets again, in search for more children to orphan.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get ye out of ‘ere.” he offers the older sister a hand, and the kid takes it hesitantly, “stay close to me, and we will get through this.” The kid holds tight onto the toddler in her other hand, and nods.

As he guides the children through the narrow streets, mud splashing under their feet, John wonders back to the moment it all started.

A few hours earlier

John stumbles into a bar. Or at least he thinks it’s a bar, either that or it's a “vap”. He’s still not really familiar with the alphabet here. 

The place is quite empty, save for a few rugged older men staring him down. John steps up to the counter, noticing the bottles of alcohol on display, and tries to flag the bartender. The man stops his conversation with another patron, and asks, “what?” with a heavy accent.

John nods behind him, “ye have Scotch?”

The bartender stares for a moment, before scoffing and turning around, grabbing a bottle off the higher shelf, and slamming it down in front of John. He couldn’t read the label, but the color seemed right at the very least.

“Cash?” the bartender grunts, and John pulls out a few bills to hand him. The man counts them, satisfied, and turns back to his previous conversation partner, “enjoy”.

John grins, “I’ll certainly will, cheers.” He takes one of the shot glasses and fills up a few fingers worth of the amber liquid. He lifts the glass and takes a swig, only to grimace when it burns down his throat.

It’s fuckin’ Bourbon. John glares at the offending bottle. They don’t have Scotch, but they got this shite? He should’ve stayed in Scotland.

John sighs, gloomily sipping on the foul drink. He knows he couldn’t have stayed there a second longer, senses buzzing for something more than a monotonous desk job and a gym full of pumped pricks who wouldn’t survive a fraction of what he had. It felt like he was choking, drowning in the repetition. 

He tried tamping down his need for action, for the first few months after the discharge. His therapist suggested him to find a new hobby, but nothing truly interested him. John knew what he really wanted, and it wasn’t steamin’ knitting another scarf.

The only thing he did, when he wasn’t in his stupidly mind-numbing job, or working out, was drawing. It’s a hobby he had while in service, sketching the locations he went to while on missions, passing the time in between fights. Little notes from debriefs, reminders, memorabilia.

His journal from the service was confiscated. Too many sensitive details, they told him. John fought tooth and nail, but it didn’t matter. 

He bought a new one, but it was a pathetic copy of his previous journal. The drawings meant nothing to him, just as much as his surroundings did, so John started sketching from memory. Against his therapist’s instructions, he started thinking more and more about the past.

It started consuming him. John couldn’t focus on the job, got told off, and because he was a little shit, talked back. 

He stopped going to the gym, instead going to self defence classes, where he was usually more experienced than the instructor themselves, but his blood still cheered every time he sparred with someone. Eventually, he got kicked out of those, for being too aggressive. It was hard to hold back, when he was used to sparring with soldiers.

John went to airsoft fields, the guns a familiar weight in his arms. It settled something in him for a while, but he grew bored of shooting down inexperienced teens.

It came to a breaking point when he was threatened with being evicted. His sister called the day before, screaming at John to get it together, crying that he wasn’t himself anymore, begging him to just keep down one fuckin’ job for more than a few months.

He said nothing in response, but it hurt. It hurt, knowing she was right. That he was fucking broken.

So, John just left. Took all of his few belongings, the rest of his money, and hopped on the nearest train.

After a couple of weeks, he arrived here, to this random city in the middle of nowhere. Without enough money to get onto the next train, he stayed, stuck. At least the food was cheap, and he found a nice enough motel to stay in.

As he swallows another mouthful of Bourbon, he distantly thinks perhaps it’s not the best use of money, especially when he’s not even really enjoying it, when a gunshot pierces through the air. The entire bar was silenced, everyone holding their breaths.

And it all went straight to hell from there.

Glass shattered as stray bullets hit the building, people screamed as they ran inside for cover, the wails and cries deafening as they mix.

John’s heart was beating so fast he felt like it’s going to explode, and he realized he’s not a soldier anymore. His body, his mind, didn’t feel a comforting familiarity in the crackling gunshots, in the perfected chaos of war.

No, John was terrified. 

The gunshots drew closer, and John spotted a back exit, dashing towards it, pulling the bartender with him.

“This way!” he shouted behind him, and not a moment later the body in his arm fell, the large man taking John down with him.

His head bounced off the ground harshly, his nose radiating pain across his face. John grunted and took hold of the man crushing him, turning him over to see red blooming over his chest, eyes lifeless and dull as they roll around his skull aimlessly.

John stilled, staring at the eyes, unbelieving. His mind was racing, questions muddling his senses, loudest of them all is “how is this real?!”.

His mind quieted when he heard boots crush broken glass, a radio buzzing with unintelligible commands. John only caught bits and pieces, his heartbeat so loud in his ears he couldn’t catch more than “Kill everyone.”

The body of the bartender was still warm, sticky heat travelling down his hands, soiling them.

This would be the last time he would feel warmth.

John wishes he could speak the kids’ language, tell them how brave they are. The older sister kept talking to her little brother, the toddler sniffing occasionally.

He gave them his jacket a while back, the two of them small enough to both fit under it. As the night grew darker, the cold settled in, and John would be shivering from it if the adrenaline wasn’t already making him tremble.

They luckily haven’t encountered any soldiers, their path devoid of any life. John steered them towards the outskirts, where he first arrived to the city. He’s hoping there would be someone to take them there, either by car or train.

And if everyone else is dead… John hopes he still remembers how to hot-wire a car.

His thoughts are interrupted by the little toddler’s squealing, pointing ahead to something off in the distance. John swiveled his head to see a silhouette of a person, and instantly pulled the children off to a nearby house.

John feels the older sister tugging on his hand, trying to get out and into the open, “stay here, kid!” he whisper-shouts, but the child insists, pointing at the person and saying “they good. Know.” 

John peaks out to look at the person, who is now searching around, lowly calling out two names.

“You’re Maria and Victor?” he asks the kids, and they nod, expression lighting up. He sighs in relief - they’re more lucky than he thought.

He lets the sister, Maria, drag him over to the searching man. She called out, and they ran over to hug each other, the man crying and repeating the same phrase over and over. John stood off to the side, a small smile on his face. 

He’s not being a hero, but actually saving someone feels good.

Maria points at him, speaking quickly in her mother tongue. The man stared him up and down, and rose to shake his hand. “I don’t know how to speak good enough to thank you.” he says slowly.

John shakes his head, “don’t worry ‘bout that. Do you have a way out of here? A car?”

The man nods, retracting his hand to hold onto the two siblings, “car yes, train not working anymore. You?”

“I have nothing. You mind if I join you?”

The man waves his hand, “follow me.”

Relief fills his lungs, and John finally feels his heart slowing. Tiredness washes over him, but he knows this is no time to rest. Just a little longer.

The cruel crunch of a boot makes the group freeze. A soldier walks ahead of them, rifle in his hand, barrel searching for more victims to murder. John pulls the man and the siblings behind him, lifting a finger to his lips to quiet them.

For a moment, he considers waiting the soldier out, letting him pass and sneaking around, but John knows better. Leaving a hostile at their backs is a death wish.

He takes a step forward, but the man stops him, eyes frightful and questioning. John takes the hand on his bicep and pulls it off of him slowly, and tried to convey with his eyes that it’s okay. The man lets him go, nodding and pulling the children away, shielding them from the fight to come. Whether he thinks John will win or not, is unclear.

The soldier is currently searching a house in front of them, flashlight shining through the darkened windows. John drops to a crouch, making his way slowly towards him.

There’s a knife strapped loosely to his thigh. Perfect.

He holds his breath as he reaches for the blade, the soldier turning his rifle from side to side.

His fingers wrap around the hilt just as the soldier starts turning.

“What-” He hears the soldier mutter, and John instantly strikes.

The knife slides perfectly into the soldier’s side, in between the tacvest’s plates. The sharp edge cuts through muscle and fat like butter, and John easily pulls it back out, dropping low to dodge the butt-end of the rifle heading for him.

The soldier snarls, and tried to take aim, but John disarms him swiftly, slicing the veins of his wrists, making the gun fly off to the side and clatter to the paved ground.

The soldier’s eyes, furious, glare at his as he slams the knife into his exposed neck.

The life fades from them as John twists the blade, letting the body fall to the ground, dead.

John is left standing, eyes staring at his reflection in the window. The man standing in front of him was bloodied, roughened, and fucking deranged.

He turns to look at the gun, the raindrops softly pattering on its metallic black body. John breathes heavily as he takes a wobbly step towards it.

The rifle, a Kastov-762, is one he knows well. He knows the way the mag clicks in when you reload it, the sound of the bullet travelling to the chamber, the way the air splits before the bullet as it’s being shot.

He knows the damage it can do to a person. He has felt it on his own flesh.

John could leave it. He could walk away, run off with the man and the children. He could turn his back to all of this suffering, like a civilian would.

He could decide, for once, not to try and be a hero.

When John drops to his knees, it’s as if the rest of the world holds its breath. As he drags fingers over metal and steel, he brushes off the dust that settled over his past self.

As he lifts the gun, checking the mag to see the shiny bullets, the man that rises is not John. He’s not the broken veteran, the unemployed asshole, the adrenaline junkie that can never find his fix.

Soap rises to his feet, rifle slung over his shoulder, eyes calculating over his surroundings. He walks over to the man, back straight, heart calm and collected.

“Follow me”, he orders, gun at the ready. The man flicks his stare between the dead soldier, the gun, and him. He walks out of the shadows, covering the children’s eyes.

Soap notices the radio crackle to life, hearing “-do you copy?!”. He takes it and crushes it under his boot. Putting a hand on the man’s shoulder, he growls, “more are coming, we need to move.”

He takes the man into one of the narrow alleys, hearing a commotion behind him as soldiers find the body. They almost reach the parked vehicles by the train station when they run into several soldiers.

The two groups lock eyes for a moment, before Soap and the rest are being shot at. He forces the others behind a wall, the children crying as the man hugs them tight, and Soap readies his gun.

He breathes. In for 5 seconds, hold for 5, release.

Soap sharply rounds the corner, silent footsteps run behind their attackers.

In for 5, hold for 5, release.

The soldiers are slowly closing in on the corner hiding the man and kids. Soap takes aim…

In for 5…

Hold for 5…

Release.

He shoots, taking down the hostiles with 5 perfect headshots.

He jumps down from his vantage point, scanning the streets around them for backup. Soap clears them and returns to the civilians, the man trying to calm the children to no avail.

“We’re clear, where’s yer car?” Soap gently pushes the man out when his feet linger. The man stares wide-eyed at the bodies before steeling his gaze and pointing to a blue truck, “there.”

Soap and the man walk to it, the area blessedly clear. The man places the children down as he unlocks the vehicle, the little kids instantly grasping at soap’s pant leg.

“Yer alright now, loves. Yer going to be safe soon.” he brushes the hair off their foreheads, their little bodies trembling from the cold and fear.

The man opens the doors and herds the kids in, taking a blanket from the back and wrapping them tightly. He closes the door and motions Soap to go around to the passenger sit, but he shakes his head.

The man’s brows furrow, “you not coming?”

“No.” he looks back to the city, “I need to help the rest, if anyone else is alive there.”

The man pauses, “you… you die. They kill you.” he stresses. “Come with me.”

Soap looks back at him, and smiles. “I can’t. Sorry.”

The man sighs, dragging a hand over his weary face. When the hand drops, he gives Soap a kind, yet sad smile.

The man reaches to shake his hand, “Mihail.” he says.

“Soap.” 

The man squeezed his hand, “good luck.”, and lets go to get into the driver’s sit.

Soap watches the truck drive off into the inky night, letting out a breath.

It should scare him, how easily he let his only escape slip between his fingers like water.

But he is calm, for the first time since he was discharged, he feels in control. The blood on his hands lingers, he is in his rightful place.

To the blood and devastation, Soap walks back, his heart beats a single goal.

His mission, save civilians, take down hostiles. As it always was, as it always should be.

Soap may never be a hero, but he will damn well try.

He is nothing otherwise.

[caeslxys]

Something I think is extremely interesting thematically when it comes to connecting what Downfall and the ideas it tackled to the overarching narrative of campaign three is that the things Downfall made a point to showcase of Aeor—Cassida, Hallis, the visual of an aeormaton proposing to her partner, the specific and intentional decision to shed light on a far from insignificant amount of the population being civilians or refugees—is that it plays in perfect parallel across from what is happening (and, really, has been happening) to the ruidusborn on Exandria in present.

Bear with me for a moment. Aeor is ultimately a city that was collectively punished for the decisions of its leadership. We could (and, judging by the amount of discourse around this particular topic already, probably will) argue about what the Gods’ motivation for all of this was—whether it be that they could not, in the end, bear to kill their siblings or that they were terrified at the prospect of mortality—for me it is a very healthy dose of both—but for this I am much more interested in the latter. They were scared. That, really, is the driving force behind both this arc and their role in c3 as a whole.

Why I point this out is: It is far more interesting to me, especially as we go back to Bells Hells this week, to dissect the Gods and their decisions not purely on sympathetic motivation alone but as beings in the highest seat of power in the highest social class in Exandria.

So, having established that the Gods (in relation to mortals) are more a higher social class than anything we could compare to our real life understanding of divinity and that Aeor was eviscerated largely because of their fear—what is the difference between those innocents in Aeor caught in the trappings of their autocratic government leadership and a divine war on the ground, and those of the ruidusborn being manipulated both by Ludinus and by the very thing that inspired such visceral fear in the Gods to start with. I would argue very little.

I think of Cassida, doing what she genuinely thought was right and good and would save people, her son, and the object of her worship—and how that did not matter enough to any of them to spare her because of the fear they held at the very concept of mortality. I think of Liliana and Imogen, one of which we know begged for the gods to help her or send her a sign for years on years, and how every single one of their largest struggles could have been avoided had the gods loved them, their supposed children, as much as they feared what they could be. I think of how the thing that did save Imogen, in the end, was a woman who herself existed in direct defiance of the gods will. I think of that young boy, sixteen years old, that Laudna exalted on Ruidus.

I think it’s completely fair to judge Aeor’s overall society as deeply corrupt—it was!—but its leadership and police force are not a reflection of every one of its citizens. Similarly, it is fair to judge the Ruby Vanguard as corrupt—it is!—but its multiple heads of leadership and even the god-eater further are not a reflection of every one of its members.

Notably, and what I think the Hells will latch onto, this did not matter to the Gods. It did not matter that Cassida was trying to help. She was still too much of a risk. Will it matter, what Imogen does? Will it matter, if that young boy is in the blast radius when they decide to take no further chances?

I’ve seen a lot of people say that the Hells will side with the gods and I don’t think I agree. Especially as Imogen has been scolded and villainized over and over for daring to try and save her mother—who herself has been seen by some as an irredeemable evil in spite of her drive being the exact same—her family—but when it’s the Gods it’s justified? When it’s the Gods, it’s sympathetic? Too sympathetic to criticize further than “they’re family”?

I obviously do not think the Gods should die or be eaten or what have you, and I certainly don’t agree with Ludinus (though I find him much more compelling than just a variation of hubris wizard), but when talking about the Gods in Aeor and in present it isn’t really at all about their motivation or their family. It can’t be. Too many people, including our active protagonists, lives have been effected for it to be as cut and dry as “they’re family”. These are your children. They are your family, too.

[lost-and-ephemeral]

Series: In Her Shadow, pt.2 (ft. main trio)

Part 1 | Part 2

Slowly but surely she replaced you in his heart.

Pairing: Xavier x reader, Zayne x reader, Rafayel x reader (seperate)

Tags: angst, hurt no comfort, reader is not MC, breakup

A/N: I recieved a lot of comments and request asking me to continue, so here we are! I've tried my best. Ty everyone, I appreciate every message, even if it would be hard to mention every single one of them in this post. Also, if you want to be tagged in future fics, let me know!

-`♡´- MASTERLIST -`♡´- 

Rafayel

You began to notice that Rafayel was spending less and less time with you, choosing his bodyguard over you.

It wasn't obvious at first, yeah, but as time went on, everything became so noticeable that you couldn't ignore it anymore. Especially when he forgot about your plans with him and didn't even consider apologizing for it.

The smell of someone else's perfume in his studio, the way Rafayel would leave you at home and take her to all the important events because "you probably don't like spending time among journalists and annoying guests." It seems that he didn't even notice the moment when you were completely estranged from each other.

And all your attempts to talk to him about it ended with nothing.

"She's my bodyguard," he'd say. "No wonder I take her everywhere I go. Is there anything wrong with that?"

Yes, a lot of things were wrong.

But he was completely unwilling to notice it, and you were tired of collecting the shards of your broken heart from the floor day after day. Those warm feelings that brought a sense of lightness and happiness in your heart suddenly turned into pure torture.

You had to end it all, even if it'll hurt so much.

When you arrived at his studio this morning, you came face to face with "Ms. Bodyguard" herself. She was just about to leave, and didn't even hesitate to embrace your beloved. Right in front of you.

Maybe you would've exploded from all these negative emotions, if you had any strength left to be mad or to cry. But there was only emptiness in your heart.

You became strangers to each other.

"I'm breaking up with you," you said without any regret and pushed him away as he tried to hug you. "I don't want to be a second choice after your precious bodyguard."

"W-wait, why? What... But I didn't do anything!" he replied confused, apparently not realizing how much he's been hurting you all this time.

"Maybe that's the point. That you'd do anything for her, but not for me."

He looked at you with the same confusion in his eyes, trying to figure out if it was a joke, but you continued before leaving this place forever.

"You were everything to me, Rafayel. But for you, I was just a small episode of your life. I'm tired. You've been spending all your free time with her, like I didn't exist. It'll be better this way. Goodbye."

No matter how long he was calling your name, asking you to stop, to come back and talk with him, you didn't.

Zayne

Loving a cardiac surgeon with his busy schedule is hard.

But it's even harder when he no longer cares about your existence and spends a significant amount of time with his childhood friend.

After Zayne forgot about your reservation at the restaurant, making you feel like you were the last fool in this world, some more time has passed.

Yeah, he apologized. No, he didn't start spending less time with his "friend".

It's hard to count how many evenings you spent alone when he stayed late at work for her or was invited to a "friendly" dinner with her. But it happened often enough so finally your love turned into suffering.

At first you tried to convince yourself that you're too jealous and he's just happy to finally reunite with someone close to him from his youth. You care about your friends too, don't you?

But it only got worse.

All your plans were constantly adjusted to his friend's wishes. She wants to take him to a cafe at the same time you were planning to go to the cinema? "Sorry, love, let's reschedule our date for another day". You've made him his favorite dinner? Too bad, his friend already brought him dinner at work and he's not hungry.

Eventually you started feeling like he stopped enjoying your time together and just continued to exist in the same apartment with you out of habit.

Talking didn't get you anywhere, because Zayne didn't notice how much he was hurting you (or he simply didn't want to notice it) with his actions and only distanced himself from you even more.

At some point you felt like he put an ice wall around himself again.

He stayed late again this evening, completely forgetting his promise to spend time with you. You packed your things with tears in your eyes, ready to say goodbye to life with Zayne once and for all.

And he showed up at the doorstep of his apartment just as you were ready to leave.

"What's going on?" his voice didn't betray a shred of emotion. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to leave you and your lovely friend together so I don't have to be an unwanted addition to your life."

Zayne was taken aback at this statement and was about to say something, but you interrupted him.

"You were the one who brought happiness and comfort into my life. You were the one who made me feel loved and wanted. But now I realize that I wasn't good enough for you. Goodbye."

You walked away and closed the door behind you, leaving him all alone.

Xavier

Before, you without a doubt would've said that your relationship with Xavier was the ultimate dream.

But now it wasn't actually true.

Yes, your beloved still showed care and attention every spare minute he had. Just not to you. It seemed as if his colleague started to occupy his every thought.

During dinner, on a walk, after missions. He was always talking about her, how strong she is, and how lucky he is that she chose him as her partner. His eyes were shining with delight you had never seen before.

You were happy for him, but only until it crossed the line. Only until you started to feel like he was in love with her, not with you.

One day you found yourself completely miserable. Xavier texted you that he would be late because they had "decided to celebrate another successful mission". Except that you were usually the one he shared his joy with. But things have changed.

Even though you were the brightest star in his world, you were inevitably lost behind the glow of the Moon.

You were trying to be better, to be more interesting. Trying to reach an unattainable ideal. But you couldn't. After all, maybe you were never meant to be together if it turned out like this. Maybe you weren't enough for him.

You couldn't remember the last day you didn't cry. Sometimes alone, sometimes locking yourself in the bathroom after another conversation about this "super-strong collegue". But Xavier didn't seem to notice it at all.

"I thought maybe you'd be interested to know what happens during missions," he said when you brought up this painful topic.

And, yes, you were interested. But all you heard was, "She took down that Wanderer so easily, I couldn't take my eyes off her." Or, "she's so good with her weapon, it's amazing."

He distanced himself from you so much that you hardly spent any time together.

He wasn't even home the day you left.

Xavier sent you a message saying he'd be late again. As usual, with her. Even though he promised to have a movie night and you had already prepared everything you needed for it.

Maybe it's even better if you don't see the look in his eyes the moment you tell him you're breaking up with him. You packed your things and left a note on the table, next to the snacks you bought.

"Maybe in another universe I would be worthy of you so you could look at me with the same adoration. I can see that you enjoy spending time with her much more. And we should break up so you don't torment my heart anymore. Goodbye."

You glanced around his apartment one last time before leaving it forever.

♡ tags: @skyowlz @prettytemis @aishasreality @randompersonwhoexist @kreishin @reni502 @moonyzstarz @chin-chii

[feyascorner]

as the snow falls

summary. years after becoming the vampire ascendant and harnessing the endless power he’s always wanted, the loneliness of his throne brings him to reminisce about the only person who’d ever cracked the surface of his frozen heart.

so why not visit them disguised as someone else?

warnings. angst, little to no comfort, bittersweet, this is kinda long

pairing. astarion x GN!reader

a/n. happy holidays everyone! I thought about making a fluffier fic but what’s better than holiday angst!! this takes place years after the game where Tav/reader breaks up with astarion once he becomes ascendant btw!

He hated fresh snow. At this time of year, he left the palace more often, leaving deep footprints that ruin its perfect evenness. He preferred when it was stained with blood, but then again, he preferred anything over untouched snow.

So when he sits up from his bed, which is far too big for one person, he sighs irritably at the snow falling softly on the other side of the window. His voice awakens the woman beside him, who rubs at her eyes, her other fingers grazing at the two identical puncture wounds at her neck.

To be quite honest, he'd forgotten she was there. He only notices her when she revels at what he's staring at, letting out a shrilling gasp. “My Lord, it’s snowing! How beautiful.”

Judging from the way she oh so comfortably addresses him, he figures she’s one of the newer servants in the palace. Any other half witted person would know to keep their head down and leave quietly, but not her. While it would bother him on any other occasion, he doesn't bother reprimanding her as his mind fails to supply him the words. He doesn't even know her name.

“Get out,” is all he says, voice an octave deeper than usual. There's a slight pause before she scrambles to climb out of the bed, finally having had some sense knocked into her. He only glances at her right as she shuts the door, eyes only noticing how her hair is the same shade as his late lover.

When he turns back to his window, he remembers how your hair had looked softer than hers. He remembers the way it had felt when he ran his fingers through your strands, and the way you'd smile in that enchanting way of yours. The way he'd let you run your own hands through white curls in return, immersed in a world where only the two of you existed in that cruddy tent while the very real problems of the outside world didn’t weigh as heavy as they usually did.

He pulls the curtains closed.

By the time he gets to his throne room, the palace is already wide awake. While Cazador’s operations had run themselves mainly during the night, Astarion was different. He could bathe in the sun all he wanted and would only come out glowing, and he'd abuse that to his full advantage. He was not afraid of the sun, because they were not the same.

They were not the same at all.

As he paces by the servants, they all hush down, quietly returning to their busy schedules as they prepare whatever housework they'd been assigned to. When he perches on his throne, he looks down at all of them, eyes narrowed at each of their movements. He’s not truly paying any of them any attention, except for the occasional ones who have the same shade of hair as the servant this morning. Those ones have puncture wounds on their necks.

Even if their blood tastes vile in comparison to yours, it’s the closest he can get.

Finally, something truly catches his attention. If he didn't have such keen ears, he wouldn't have heard the few in the corner, whispering.

“The heroes are celebrating the restoration of the city at Elfsong tavern tonight!” one says excitedly. “Do you think Master will go see them?”

“No, certainly not,” another responds. “He rarely meets them anymore, does he? Shame. I would love to see them in person before they leave. I heard a few of them won’t be coming back for a while.”

“Surely we could go ourselves?”

“Well,” one ponders. “If we hurry with all our assignments perhaps we can make it in time…”

Astarion snaps back into attention when a male servant approaches him, admittedly with a swallow of his throat. “My Lord.”

“What is it?” he snaps, thought it surprises even himself how harshly it came out. Not that he cares.

“T-the entire first floor has been scraped clean, my Lord. The second floor, twice,” he stammers, eyes looking anywhere but at Astarion’s face. While it first boosted his ego seeing others cower in fear, now it just irritates him. “Of course, we haven't touched the left wing, as you instructed, but there were some worries regarding the dust collecting in the main bedroom there, and-”

“The left wing will remain the way it is until I orderwise,” Astarion responds immediately, then pauses. “Tell the others to rid the yards of snow.”

The servant’s eyes go wide. “But my Lord, it’s still snowing…and there's already a few inches—to clean it would just result in the snow piling again-”

“I won't repeat myself, child.”

He is not like Cazador. Not at all.

As the servant stumbles away with a frantic nod, Astarion’s gaze drifts towards the windows again. He’d had them installed the second he took possession of the palace, refusing to keep its walls in darkness any longer. He'd torn off the curtains, wallpaper, decorations, and replaced them all with new ones—ones that were more to his liking. It was an entirely new Palace, and yet…

The only place he'd left untouched was the left wing. He knew the servant’s words came from reason. The left wing was surely to rot away at this rate, being left unoccupied for so long. He hated the way it had no windows, the way the curtains were the same blood red shade Cazador had favored, and how the hallway was only dimly lit with a few candles.

He closes his eyes.

He remembers your voice so clearly, he might’ve mistaken you for standing right before him. “Once we kill Cazador, isn't this place yours?”

He had raised a brow. “Perhaps. Why do you ask?”

“Maybe you can make this place more pleasing to the eye, I don't like how dark it is now.”

“Really? I am curious as to what you would deem admirable interior design. Perhaps I’ll give you a portion of the palace to yourself, my dear.”

He snaps his eyes open.

He truly hated when it snowed.

He looks down at all his subjects once more. And this time, he found the isolation of the throne eating at a heart that he no longer had.

——

The snow doesn't stop, even as the sun sets.

And while he detests himself for doing so, he finds himself entering Elfsong tavern, where the night’s just begun. After hours of contemplation, convincing himself he had no reason to join the celebrations of common folk, he thinks of course you of all people would celebrate at a mere tavern over a lavish party with the rich. Of course you'd prefer to listen to a less than pathetic excuse for a bard than a musician with years of experience.

He curses that humble streak of yours as he steps into the building with a disguise spell. He’s still an elf, handsome but not as much as his ordinary self. His hair is a shade of chestnut brown, eyes in a different color than his usual as well. It’s enough to pass as a different person.

He doesn't have to look around long, because someone bumps into his shoulder, yelping an obnoxious ‘ow!’ before turning to him. And while Astarion contemplates a more violent outcome for daring to cross a vampire, he quickly stops when he sees a familiar wizard.

“Sorry about that. Have a lot on my hands right now,” Gale apologizes with that annoying smile of his before rushing back to his table with the two drinks in his hands. It’s crowded in the tavern, but none of it stops Astarion from spotting you in an instant.

Gods above.

That same shade of hair framing your laughing expression is all he can see. Gale sets the drinks in front of you and Shadowheart, and the vampire makes out your thanks from the way you mouth the words before taking a chug from it.

You’ve matured. Your hair is styled differently than he remembers from a few years ago. The way you carry yourself is different too. And you seem more comfortable under so many gazes—all of which he wishes it were only his.

You look happy.

A part of himself hates you for it.

But when he dwells on the feeling a moment too long, he realizes it’s more directed to himself. Because while you sit there with that beautiful smile on your face, surrounded by your companions and the admiration of the city, all he has is the cold grips of his throne, where all he seems to think about is blood, and more importantly, you.

Enough, he thinks. He's making a fool of himself. He's sure you'd rather not see him anyway, after the poor falling out the two of you had. And he's not sure what he'd do if you came too close to him, which is also something he'd rather not test.

But then, you stand up. You wave something at the others before pacing across the tavern toward the back door. Astarion doesn't even have to will his legs to move before they're halfway across the door, trailing after you.

When he finds you again, you're ankle deep in the fresh layer of snow behind the loud tavern, in the otherwise quiet city of the night. You're staring at the sky as a snowflake lands on your nose, and you make no moves to wipe it off, instead you breathe in, and then out, leaving Astarion to stare blankly from the shadows.

“You can come out, you know. I promise I don't bite,” you hum, and a lump grows in his throat. Still, he does.

“It’s cold,” he says.

“It is,” you smile, oblivious to who you're speaking to through the disguise. He simultaneously wants to reveal himself and hide in the shadows. “It’s nice though. I've always loved snow, and this might be my last chance to see it in Baldur’s Gate for a while.”

He stares at the way your breath steams against the freezing air. “Have plans of travel? Surely a hero like you would prefer to stay in a city of people in your debt.”

“Adventuring, probably,” you shrug, turning your gaze back down to the snow. “I’ve done what I can here. No reason for me to stay.”

The selfish part of him flares, though it seems to be most of him nowadays. Him. He should be the reason.

His brows furrow. “You won't be coming back?”

“Probably not for a while. This city holds a lot of memories, and not all of them are ones I'm rather fond of,” you sigh. “I just wish I could've helped more people, but I suppose life just doesn't work out the way you want it to.”

He raises a brow. “How ambitious. I would think saving an entire city is enough for at least a few lifetimes.”

“Well,” your voice drops. “There was one more person I really wanted to help. One that I lost.”

He remains quiet, eyes glued to the way you kick at the snow.

“I should have guided him better. Should have let him know that he was enough. Not because he was some all powerful being, but just because he was him. I thought—” your nose crinkles. “—I thought I'd been helping him, by encouraging him any way I could. But that tore us apart, and I'd do anything to go back and fix it.”

To be in that tent again, to hold you close again, to love you again.

“Sounds like a lucky man to receive such endearing words from you,” is all he manages.

You snort, laughing a bit. “I was the lucky one to have ever met him. I just wish our time together hadn't been so short.”

And as you hold out cupped hands to the sky, gathering the snow, Astarion feels his chest go impossibly tight when you finally meet his eyes. Gods, had he missed them. “I wish we could've seen the snow together. The first snow in the morning, when nothing’s touched it and it’s just a perfect even layer. I think he would have liked it.”

“I’m sure,” he says. “I’m sure he would've enjoyed watching the snow with you.”

You smile again, and he forces down the urge to pull you closer right then and there. To remind you that you can have all that, and more. He could give you everything, the world be damned. He could have you sit on his lap in the throne of his palace, and fill your head with hushed promises of love and praises, holding you tight to his side with one hand and wine in the other.

He could forget about how cold the throne feels.

Instead, he only watches you step out of the snow and pace towards the door leading back to the tavern. And as you open the door, you glance back at him. “Aren’t you coming in?”

“I ought to return home. I have quite the night ahead of me.”

You tilt your head. “Shame, I was hoping to buy you a drink for listening to a complete stranger for five minutes.”

Astarion offers a slight nod. “Perhaps next time, I’ll take you up on that offer.”

He hates the churning inside of him as he realizes this is your final farewell. This is the last time you’ll give him your full attention, and he detests the way all he wants to do is to convince you to stay. To realize he can offer so much more than the rest of the world. That he’d ruin the world for you.

But when your smile softens, he stops himself again. He curses the effect you have on him. “Next time, then.”

And then the door shuts closed.

He stares at it for a long time, waging an internal battle where he struggles to gather his composure relentlessly until he looks away and turns his attention back to the snow.

He breathes. Not because he has to—because he doesn't—but because it finally allows his shoulders to relax.

The air is cold in his throat.

Somehow, from here rather than the view from his bedroom, the snow doesn't look so bad.

[holysupesbatman]

SuperBat Fic Recs

Woaaaah boy. I was in the Superbat tag and saw someone asking for recs and I got about 5 fics in before I realized that wouldn't fit in a reply and decided I should just make a whole post. I feel like I've read half of the Bruce/Clark tag on ao3 at this point and yet I still find more every time I look.

As a note, this post is heavily editorialized. These are all fics I've personally read and are here because I liked them and they come from my ao3 bookmarks. If you want better details about the fic, follow the links and check them out 🤷‍♀️ I'm a picky reader so the fact that it's on the list says a lot, though our tastes may vary.

Onto the recs! I'll organize them by ratings and then by length for simplicity and at the end I'll recommend some of my favorite SuperBat authors for further reading!

🦇

Rated: G

Uno Reverse by WixenBurr (~7k rated G) is really cute and fluffy

Summary: The batkids are trying to set Batman and Superman up. Unfortunately Bruce Wayne wants to date some rando news reporter named Clark Kent.

Rated: T

Know You Better by rotasha (~6k rated T)

super fluffy and cute. I adore this fic. Summary: Clark asks Bruce on a date, not knowing he’s a famous billionaire. Bruce says yes, because this is the first time this has ever happened to him.

I'm Not As Think As You Drunk I Am by Mardiaz173 (~13k rated T)

This one is SO much fun – Nobody believes Clark after he meets the supposed "flirty, stupid, entitled drunk" playboy billionaire Brucie Wayne when he says he's actually "clever, mischievous, and sober with an indecipherable ulterior motive."

Saudade by liodain (~20k rated T)

OK THIS ONE MAKES MY HEART MELT IT'S SO FLUFFY AND SWEET I CAN'T. Like put this on your re-read when you're sad and need to feel like love and goodness exist list. Bruce breaks down in Kansas in 2006 years before BvS and meets young Clark.

fallin' for him was like fallin' from grace by Resacon1990 (~23k rated T)

It's just 20k of Clark simping for Bruce. That's it. That's the fic. He's a golden retriever and he's in love, Your Honor. Bruce is not unaffected, but the pining is glorious.

summary: Or, five times Clark finds himself falling for Bruce, and the one time he does something about it

Mr. Romantic by Pandamomochan (~24k rated T)

ft Established Relationship SuperBat. Summary: Clark gets tasked to write a Valentine's Day article. The end result has every single women throwing themselves at him. Clark has always been patient with the drove of Brucie fans. Will Bruce be as mature with Clark's sudden popularity?

How to Date a Superhero by @solomonara (~25k rated T)

Technically a series of fics. Pure fluff. 1. Someone spots the Batman kissing Mild Mannered Reporter Clark Kent. Hijinks ensue. 2. Superman kissed Bruce Wayne in full view of several dozen phones. Now the whole world, including Lex Luthor, knows Superman has a boyfriend. But that's okay. Batman has a plan. 3. Deleted scenes from the How to Date a Superhero series, ruthlessly cut in most cases to prevent the Robins from taking over.

In every sense of the word by froggy-o (bobafiend) (~29k rated T) From the author's summary: Alternatively titled "Why Wonder Woman is on the verge of losing her fucking mind."

I swear this fic is just Diana's eyebrow twitching as she watches Bruce and Clark start dating and she's let in on both their civilian identities meanwhile Superman and Batman are on the watchtower arguing and disagreeing about basically everything on the daily. In the name of Justice, of course. The identity porn is on a whole other level and it was done so well.

Get Over It by rotasha (~32k rated T)

heh this one has plenty of identity hijinks. Sooooo funny. Summary: Bruce needs to get over his inconvenient feelings for Superman and he meets an attractive reporter who he thinks can help him do just that. Little does he know...

the cost of being a good dad by Mawiiish (~96k rated T)

hehehe... the batkids set up a dating profile for Bruce and catfish Clark. It's more of a blind date for Bruce (not that he had any idea he was going on a date at all), but who has Clark been texting for the past several weeks??? Oh yeah. The kids. What follows is as follows. Still with capes!

Rated: M

Guardian Dog by BombusBombus (~22k rated M)

Summary: There's something wrong with Clark Kent. He has to be a villain, right? A threat? He doesn't behave like a normal person, no matter how handsome or clever he may seem.

grasp his heart (once and for all) by liodain (~32k rated M) soulmate AU fic. Pretty emotional LOTS of identity issues going on there like so much. Kinda high on the drama and angst there honestly but it was a cute read. Summary: Bruce Wayne doesn't believe in fate.

tell all the truth (but tell it slant) by susiecarter (~33k rated M)

love me a fake dating AU. Summary: It takes a while for Batman and Superman to work things out, once Clark comes back from the dead. Pretending to date each other in order to explain why Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent are in the same place so often? Doesn't help as much as you might think.

Strangers When We Meet by Trista_zevkia (~63k rated M)

ANOTHER soulmate AU! This time feat. Kryptonian Biology hehehe. Summary: Clark Kent thought he was straight, until Batman kick started something. The question is what did Batman start? Is Brucie Wayne able to explain it to him?

ship-to-ship combat by pomeloquat (~77k rated M)

OK NO LISTEN this is one of my all-time favorite fics EVER. It's so meta and so funny. Clark is us. We are Clark. Clark is writing RPF for the Bruce/Batman ship and he's very convinced it's real EVEN THOUGH he has a huge crush on the Batman... let the hijinks BEGIN.

Rated: E

Embracing Destiny by Mithen (~8k rated E)

This one is just really really cute. Summary: As a member of the Legion of Super-Heroes in the 31st century, a teenaged Clark learns a stunning secret about his own future: he and someone called "Batman" will be legendary lovers.

perfect strangers by susiecarter (~15k rated E)

like. bruh. susie did it again. This tag says it all: communication failure. I love this one though. Summary: Batman and Superman are fucking. Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent are a great cover for fighting crime, and also might be dating. Bruce and Clark have no idea what they're doing; but they definitely aren't going to be able to talk themselves into stopping.

Relinquishing Control by foxyk (~25k rated E)

afsfwsdfhishdfksj no words. Read the authors summary and then just go read the fic:

Superman worries that if he lets go he'll injure his partner. Batman knows better. Batman worries that if he lets someone else in, he'll hurt them. Superman knows better.

Picture Perfect by TheSaltiestDog @the-saltiest-dog (~26k rated E)

this one is cute and then horny on main but also just so fluffy. Clark sees Bruce in a new light through candid shots, then proceeds to take lots of candid shots as they begin a relationship. Cue schmoop, fluff, smut, and – you guessed it! –Miscommunication!

A Night Off and sequel A Day Off by Mawiiish (~37k combined; first part is E, second is T)

One of my all-time favorites. My bookmark says 10/10 would read again soooooooo... 👀🤷‍♀️😅🥵

Bruce is enjoying one of his few nights off when a very persistent young man offers to buy him a drink. At first he's apprehensive; he's just here for a good time and this Clark seems to be looking for more than that. Then again, what harm can one drink do?

Clark wakes up to an empty bed and despite Bruce being honest from the start, he's still disappointed.

The Downsides to a Secret Identity by liodain (~42k rated E)

I'm currently reading this one – the summary from the author says it all, it's so good but sooo drama:

Bruce Wayne has taken a shine to Clark Kent, but Clark is more interested in the Bat of Gotham. The Bat, however, has it in for the Superman in a big way. Clark should probably have considered that before falling quite so hard. They're working together to track down some missing Kryptonian weaponry, after all...

50 Shades of Wayne by susiecarter (~161k rated E)

No but listen, this is actually so full of plot and emotional depth and not as much smut as you might think. It's a full-scale retelling of Batman v Superman but without them knowing each other's secret identities. I read it in one go... the reveal? Maybe the best I've ever read. Soooo many emotions. It's one of the few times I've read BDSM in a fic and it actually felt in character. I wasn't sure I would read it when I started, but it was a compelling read and extremely well done. Honestly, I'd read it again.

SuperBat Author Shoutouts:

susiecarter @susiecarter

liodain @liodain

Resacon1990 @sassyresacon1990

shipyrds @burins

Mawiiish @superbattrash

rotasha

Mithen

[jeonjcngkook]

industry baby: bts jeon jungkook collab

lights, cameras, action!

turn the lights down low and the music up for the newst collab to hit mainstream screens around you. whether you’re reading about this through the hottest magazine in town, hearing about it through the newest tracks to hit streaming platforms or watching it all go down on demand; immerse yourself with the incredible seventeen new fics from our talented writers that are bound to be the newest talk of the town. afterall, we’re all part of the industry, baby.

title: part time lover | by @sketchguk​

pairing: investigative journalist!jungkook x daycare-teacher!reader

genre(s)&au(s): smut, fluff, angst, fake marriage au, dad au, spy x family au

summary: there is no crime more perfect than marrying jeon jungkook. your relationship is nothing more than a ruse - while your friends pester you for being perpetually single, jungkook desperately needs a wife to complete the pristine image of a family, fooling his way through the parent interview at the nation’s most prestigious private school. only time will tell how deep your lies will run as you find home in one another’s minds. because untangled in the moonlight, he is but a spy, exposing a secret world of corruption, and you, an assassin, ridding the streets of danger one hit at a time.

➝ [PRESS PLAY]

title: the never ending man | by @joheunsaram

pairing: animator!jungkook x journalist!reader

genre(s)&au(s): ghibli studios au, documentary au, friends to lovers, angst, fluff, maybe smut

summary: reclusive award-winning animator jeon jungkook is known for works of whimsy, creating heart warming epithets that provoke reflection of the world. when the news of his early retirement shocks the world, you decide to bring the man behind the pen to the forefront, documenting his last work. his fans deserve to know him, much like you do. after all, in his ten years in the industry, you're the only journalist he has ever deemed worthy of interviews.

➝ [PRESS PLAY]

title: malevolence | by @jeonjcngkook​​

pairing: vampire-pornstar!jungkook x human!freader

genre(s)&au(s): modern vampire au, porn star au, smut, pwp, predator pray

summary: in a world where vampires live amongst the human world, it is strictly forbidden that hybrid relationships exist between the two. but for jungkook, bending the rules is just as much fun as bending his women; so when the opportunity for him to break more laws occurs, it only makes sense that he hunts you down to join him on set.

➝ [PRESS PLAY]

title: hi, baby | by @sailoryooons​

pairing: pornstar!jungkook x pornstar!freader

genre(s)&au(s): strangers to lovers, pornstar au, pwp, slow burn if you squint

summary: from the moment jungkook met you on set, he was head over heels. the only problem? you weren’t scripted as his partner for any of his sex scenes. but there would always be another chance to sleep with you - right? after months of bad luck,things going awry, and mismatched schedules, jungkook finally gets the invitation to participate in an episode of the aphrodite house where he’s asked to pick his favorite pornstar to film with. it’s his dream come true and he can’t wait to have you.

➝ [PRESS PLAY]

title: chatroom | by @chryblossomjjk​

pairing: nerdy-virgin!jungkook x camgirl!reader

genre(s)&au(s): smut, a lil fluff and humor, strangers-to-lovers

summary: absolutely ravenous and sexually frustrated, jungkook decides to join a chatroom.

➝ [PRESS PLAY]

title: best lover | by @joonberriess

pairing: stalker!jungkook x stalker-cam!girl

genre(s)&au(s): yandere, smut, angst

summary: a devoted fan leaves you in confusion and terror when he starts appearing outside of your streams. but whoever said you were innocent too?

➝ [PRESS PLAY]

title: ambivalence | by @mercurygguk​

pairing: pornstar!jungkook x pornstar!fem reader

genre(s)&au(s): enemies to lovers au, pornstar au, angst/smut, tiny bits of fluff

summary: you and jungkook used to be a thing before your careers took off but it ended badly, the result being hatred for one another. now, the universe is sick and twisted in all sorts of fucked up ways and brings the two of you back into each other’s lives; on the set for a porn video.

➝ [PRESS PLAY]

title: tired of pretending | by @gimmethatagustd​

pairing: musician!jungkook x ghostwriter(f)!reader

genre(s)&au(s): non-idol musician, coworkers to lovers, slowburn, smut, fluff, angst

summary: jungkook is known for his sensual pop songs that profess a love so deep fans regularly speculate who might be the recipient of his affection. outsiders don’t know that you’re the one writing his songs as his ghostwriter. while jungkook gains fame and fortune by unknowingly singing love songs written about your love for him, you feel yourself growing even more invisible.

➝ [PRESS PLAY]

title: industry baby | by @joonberriess

pairing: solo-artist!jungkook x prissy-brat!reader

genre(s)&au(s): enemies w/benefits au, smut, small amounts of angst

summary: solo artist jeon jungkook has always been one for controversy despite being one of the best out there. his notoriety for drinking, partying, and breaking hearts reaches a all time high when he drops a diss track, however not just aiming for the industry, but for you too. you don't know what's worse, him revealing that you fuck on the low or him calling you the "industry's baby".

➝ [PRESS PLAY]

title: rolling stone | by @kooktrash​

pairing: idol!jungkook x non idol!reader

genre(s)&au(s): idol au, friends-w-benefits, smut, angst

summary: he was a rolling stone with no ties to anyone or any place and that’s how he and his fans liked it. now he’s found you and it’s never been this hard to convince someone that he’ll stay.

➝ [PRESS PLAY]

title: happily ever after | by @kookingtae​

pairing: shy!jungkook x freader

genre(s)&au(s): reality dating show au, angst, smut, fluff

summary: previously on a reality dating show, you had brushed off fellow contestant jungkook’s crush on you in favor of the exciting, toxic fling you had with taehyung. but now that the cameras have stopped rolling and you’re back to spending everyday life with the boy you friendzoned on national television, you’re faced with the realization that maybe you made a mistake. maybe reality tv isn’t reality at all.

➝ [PRESS PLAY]

title: a case of you | by @jeonqkooks

pairing: actor!jungkook x actress!reader

genre(s)&au(s): enemies-to-lovers, slight fluff, angst, slight smut

summary: jeon jungkook is the show business’ golden boy ever since he rose to fame seven years ago. with a face sculpted by the gods, as well as oozing charisma and talent, it’s no surprise that he turns heads and steals hearts wherever he goes. but underneath that facade of the perfect man whom everyone adores and the highly acclaimed actor that every casting director wants to book, there are hushed whispers left and right that jungkook is a nightmare to work with. as the actress starring alongside jungkook in his upcoming drama, you have a front row seat to see if he’ll prove the rumors false, or if he’ll make the biggest project of your career go up in flames.

➝ [PRESS PLAY]

title: love spilled canvas | by @caelesjjk​

pairing: painter!jungkook x actress!freader

genre(s)&au(s): friends to lovers, angst, romance, smut

summary: fame isn’t everything it’s made out to be. the pressure to be perfect. the highest of expectations weighing on your shoulders, it all becomes too much to bear. when it all comes crashing down, you seek out the person who has always felt like home and take up refuge in his gorgeous apartment that’s more than far enough away from your movie star life. jungkook is a painter. the most talented one that you know. but what you don’t know, is that he’s been in love with you for years. so of course he lets you stay with him for as long as you need. but when he finally lands an exhibit at a very high end gallery after you’ve gone back home, the last person he expects to see walk in is you.

➝ [PRESS PLAY]

title: sticky situationship | by @rkivian​

pairing: tv host!jungkook x reader

genre(s)&au(s): fluff, crime au, crack, smut, great pretender au, the ugly truth au

summary: it isn’t lost on you, your local, hot shot tv host trying to distract you from the fact that he isn’t who everyone thinks he is, because he’s doing quite a terrible job. but… you might as well take advantage of it.

➝ [PRESS PLAY]

title: not like the movies | by @here4btsfics​

pairing: screenwriter!jungkook x reader

genre(s)&au(s): enemies-to-lovers, angst, smut, fluff

summary: the biggest mistake you ever made was in college when you hooked up with the one and only jeon jungkook at a graduation party. you two had hated one another since high school when he betrayed you, and sleeping with him was a moment of weakness. fast forward five years later, you’re a successful screenwriter, mainly for romcoms, and you just got an amazing opportunity to help write for a movie for a major production company. the only problem? jungkook was signed onto the project as well and you two have to work together without killing one another in the process.

➝ [PRESS PLAY]

title: PR disaster | by @ughcore​

pairing: actor!jungkook x publicist!reader

genre(s)&au(s): enemies to lovers, smut, comedy

summary: after a slow year in the business, you unexpectedly find yourself employed by Hit Ent, tasked with the unfortunate role of taming infamous rake jeon jungkook in preparation for a movie role that could make his career. with the intention of cleaning up his image, you aim to find him a respectable fake girlfriend, hardly expecting to find the task a whole lot more challenging than it seems - especially when you get to know the guy behind the headlines…

➝ [PRESS PLAY]

hosted by: @jeonjcngkook​ & @mercurygguk | collab theme by: @mercurygguk​

[butterfly-lies-chase-them-away]

EXCUSE ME MISS MA’AM!?

Hi I speak for everyone that if you have the time, energy, and love…. Could you please give us a part two of Bunny. Yeah we’re gonna need that in order to function properly. I am begging at this point.

P.S. you are a beautiful person!

Sincerely,

Chaos

I love you babes! 💚 again, I cannot believe an amazing author like YOU, wanted a part two from ME! This absolutely means the work to me. Thank you :)

Bunny (Part 2) - Health Ledger!Joker x Fem!Reader

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

Word Count: 11,941

Warnings: violence, Joker, manipulation, minor age gap, implied stalking, technically breaking and entering Summary: This new-found relationship- if it could even be labelled as such, has been wearing on Y/n. Being with a wanted criminal generally does that to a person, she finds. Now, when she encounters a potential new friend during her lecture, how will this dynamic fit into her already tumultuous existence?

(Part 1)

A/N: Thank you everyone in fact for all the support on this fic that I've gotten and a lot of requests for a part two so I hope I can deliver! I love this man so much (maybe not as much as our girl Chaos, but you get me). In this one, I definitely wanted to make him more manipulative and just overall aggressive so ✨ slay ✨ So I hope you all enjoy this part two :) 💚

-

To describe her newfound "relationship" with the Joker as unconventional would be a massive understatement. If Y/n wasn't anxious before, she most certainly was now. The Joker's presence in her life was a constant source of unease, his unpredictable nature and the shadow of his criminality casting a dark cloud over her thoughts.

The fear of discovery gnawed at her mind like a relentless beast. What if someone saw him entering her dorm? What if word got out and she became a target? Despite the Joker's assurances of protection, Y/n couldn't shake the nagging doubt that lingered in the depths of her mind.

And then there were the surprise visits, each one a jolt to her already frazzled nerves. With no means of contacting him or determining when they would meet, Y/n found herself at the mercy of the Joker's whims, her schedule and peace of mind constantly disrupted.

What truly unsettled her, however, was the realization that the Joker seemed to have an uncanny ability to keep tabs on her, lurking in the shadows without her knowledge. She was trapped in a game she didn't fully understand, a pawn in the Joker's twisted world, with no escape in sight.

But it wasn’t all too bad, for one thing, he was surprising very generous, in his own way. He’d show up, showering her with gifts and other offers that kept her on her toes. He’s also offered to buy Y/n a high end apartment, but knowing him, it would be paid with dirty money, which is something she’d think about everytime she stepped into the apartment. 

Despite his unpredictable nature, she couldn't deny the feelings she harbored for him. In his presence, she experienced emotions she had never known before, a strange mixture of fear and exhilaration that left her breathless. Strangely, amidst the chaos and danger that surrounded him, he had a way of making her feel oddly calm and grounded.

Nights like these were the ones she cherished most. Lying on her single bed, Joker enveloped her in his embrace, his warmth providing a sense of solace that she found nowhere else. They remained in silence, finding comfort in each other's presence.

Y/n felt his lips press against the side of her head, eliciting a slight groan as she instinctively reached to wipe away the residue of his makeup. She hadn't yet seen him without it, respecting his choice to keep his identity concealed, but sometimes wished she could see the man behind the mask.

"You don't like my kisses?" Joker quirked an eyebrow, teasingly.

"It's not your kisses I mind, it's the greasy mess you leave behind," Y/n replied with a playful grin.

“Greasy mess? Like this?” Joker responded by nuzzling his face against hers, prompting a laugh from Y/n as she attempted to push him away.

Y/n playfully pushed Joker away, laughing as she saw his face paint smudged from their playful exchange. It wasn't until she caught her own reflection in the small mirror across the room that she realized her own face was adorned with similar streaks of color.

"Oh yay! Now I have to go out and clean my face," she remarked, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Joker glanced at his reflection in the mirror, a grin spreading across his face as he observed the colorful mess they had created together.

"It's a masterpiece," he declared with a mischievous glint in his eye.

Y/n couldn't help but laugh, feeling a sense of freedom and happiness in these moments with Joker, despite the uncertainty that lingered in the background.

Y/n rose from the bed, intending to clean the smeared face paint from her skin, but Joker's voice halted her in her tracks.

"Where do you think you're going?" he inquired, a hint of annoyance in his tone.

"Just to wash my face," Y/n replied, her voice gentle.

Joker's response was immediate. "Later," he insisted, his arms beckoning her back to the warmth of their shared space.

Reluctantly, Y/n made her way back to him, sinking back into the comfort of Joker's embrace as they resumed their quiet companionship.

As they lay together in silence, Y/n couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in her mind. Joker's presence, though comforting in its own way, was a constant reminder of the unpredictable nature of their relationship.

Lost in her thoughts, Y/n felt Joker's hand gently stroking her hair, a gesture that contrasted sharply with his usual erratic demeanor. She turned to look at him, meeting his intense gaze.

"Now tell me… What’s going on inside that little mind of yours, Bunny?" Joker asked softly, his eyes searching hers for answers.

Y/n hesitated, unsure how to articulate the swirling emotions inside her. "Just... wondering about us," she admitted quietly.

Joker caressed her cheek, "You worry too much, Doll," he murmured, pulling her closer to him.

But despite his reassurance, Y/n couldn't shake the feeling of uncertainty that gnawed at her insides. She knew that navigating a relationship with the Joker would never be easy, but for now, all she could do was hold onto him and hope for the best.

-

As Y/n stirred from her slumber from her sudden alarm ringing, the absence of Joker's warmth beside her sent a pang of loneliness through her. Rubbing her eyes, she sat up in bed and glanced around the room, the morning light casting a soft glow over the empty space.

With a heavy sigh, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and reached for her phone to silence the persistent alarm. The familiar routine of the morning only served to highlight the absence of Joker's presence, leaving Y/n feeling a sense of gloom that lingered like a shadow.

Despite knowing that their time together was fleeting and unpredictable, Y/n couldn't help but yearn for the comfort of Joker's embrace. But as she resigned herself to another day without him by her side, she knew that the loneliness was a small price to pay for the moments of connection they shared.

-

Navigating the familiar corridors of Gotham University, Y/n followed her well-worn path to her lecture hall. As she walked down the steps, she suddenly stopped. Someone was sitting in her spot. Well- it technically wasn’t her seat, but it had become her unofficial spot through habit.

Her heart quickened with uncertainty as Y/n scanned the room, searching for an alternative seat. Sighing in relief, she found herself an empty row along the side, a makeshift refuge from the disruption to her routine.

As she took her seat, she couldn't shake the feeling of being out of place. It was unsettling to deviate from her routine, even in such a small way. But she reminded herself that change was inevitable, and sometimes it was necessary to step out of her comfort zone.

Just as she started to relax into her new surroundings, a voice startled her from behind.

"Hey, mind if I sit here?" the voice asked, and Y/n turned to see a guy standing beside her, a friendly smile on his face.

"Uhh.. No, you can sit," Y/n replied hesitantly.

He smiled warmly, settling into the seat beside her. "I’m Max, by the way," he introduced himself.

"I’m Y/n," she responded quickly, feeling a flutter of nerves at his friendly demeanor.

"He really piled on the homework this week, didn't he?" Max said with a chuckle, referring to the professor's latest reading.

Y/n nodded, a small smile forming on her lips. "Tell me about it. I feel like I'm drowning in articles."

Max laughed, a sound that was oddly comforting to Y/n's ears. "Well, at least we're in the same boat. Misery loves company, right?"

As they chatted, Y/n couldn't help but notice the genuine kindness in Max's eyes and the way his smile reached all the way to his eyes. It was a stark contrast to the unpredictable intensity she experienced with Joker.

Despite her lingering anxiety, Y/n found herself enjoying the conversation, feeling a sense of normalcy she hadn't felt in a long time. For the first time in a while, Y/n felt a glimmer of excitement at the prospect of forming a new connection. Maybe this blip in her routine was exactly what she needed.

-

As they walked up the steps, Max's voice cut through the murmurs of departing students. He turned to Y/n with a friendly smile, his eyes bright with enthusiasm. "I'm heading to the library. Care to join?"

Y/n paused, her gaze flitting to the clock before returning to Max. His genuine invitation sparked a flicker of warmth in her chest. "Thanks, but I don't think I have time," she replied, a hint of regret in her tone.

"No worries. Maybe next time?" Max suggested, his smile unwavering.

Y/n's mind raced, contemplating the possibility. She couldn't help but feel excited about Max's offer. "Sounds good," she finally said, returning his smile with a small one of her own.

"Great," Max said, his smile widening before he turned and walked out of the lecture hall.

As Y/n watched Max's retreating figure, a sense of relief washed over her. For the first time in a while, she felt a glimmer of normalcy amidst the chaos of her life.

-

Walking back to her dorm was a breeze, as it was only a short distance from campus. With each step, a smile adorned Y/n's face, a rare occurrence after a typical day at university. Beyond the casual acquaintances in her dorm, she rarely found herself engaging with others on campus.

Unlocking her dorm room door, Y/n stepped inside, only to be greeted by a sudden scream that escaped her lips. Joker stood before her, a chilling presence that sent shivers down her spine.

"You scared me!" Y/n sighed, quickly shutting the door behind her. “I didn’t expect to see you till later on.”

Joker's demeanor was unsettlingly calm as he observed her, his hands casually tucked into his pockets, an eyebrow quirked inquisitively.

"Have a... good day?" Joker's voice carried an edge of menace.

"Uhh... I suppose," Y/n replied, her nerves palpable.

There was an unmistakable tension in the air, an unspoken threat lingering between them. Y/n couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss.

"Are you okay, Joker?" Y/n asked cautiously.

"Dandy..." Joker's response was terse, his gaze piercing as he continued to scrutinize her.

Y/n's brow furrowed in concern, her instincts on high alert. But before she could voice her apprehension, Joker abruptly changed the subject, his tone taking on a predatory edge.

"Made any friends lately?" Joker's question hung in the air, loaded with an underlying threat.

"N-no," Y/n stammered, feeling like a cornered animal under Joker's scrutiny.

A sinister smile tugged at Joker's lips, an unsettling sight that sent a chill down Y/n's spine. She felt like a mouse being circled by a hungry cat- or in this case, a bunny being circled by a hungry wolf as Joker began to pace around her, his movements calculated and predatory.

"Hmmm..." Joker's voice was a low murmur, filled with unnerving curiosity. "Then who was that boy you were talking with?"

"Oh! Max," Y/n began to explain, she smiled slightly, thinking back to their encounter. "I had to sit in a different seat today, and he sat beside…"

Her words trailed off as realization dawned on her. Y/n's heart pounded in her chest as she struggled to form a coherent response. She hadn't anticipated Joker's sudden interrogation, nor did she understand how he knew about her encounter with Max.

"H-how do you know about that?"

But Joker merely smirked in response, his yellowed teeth gleaming in the dim light of her dorm room, his gaze fixated on her with an intensity that made her blood run cold.

"So, my Bunny made a friend?" Joker's smile widened, revealing his yellowed teeth in a chilling grin. "Why don’t you tell me about this… Max.".

"I-I don’t know much about him, I just met him today," Y/n explained, her voice tinged with apprehension.

"Is that so?" Joker halted abruptly, standing mere inches away from her.

Y/n nodded, her nerves palpable as she awaited Joker's next move.

"You know, Bunny," Joker began, his tone shifting to something more serious, "I don't think you should be hanging around with this Max character."

Y/n's eyes widened in surprise. "Why not?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady despite the rising fear.

"Because," Joker replied, his voice dropping to a low growl, "I don't trust him. And you should know by now that I don't like it when people get too close to what's mine."

Y/n's heart pounded in her chest as she struggled to process Joker's words. She knew he was possessive, but this felt different. More dangerous. She needed to tread carefully.

"But… he's just a friend," Y/n protested weakly, hoping to reason with Joker.

Joker's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing as he took a step closer to her. "I don't care if he's just a friend. Stay away from him, Bunny. Trust me, it's for your own good."

Y/n swallowed hard, looking down, feeling a knot of fear tightening in her stomach. She knew she had to heed Joker's warning, no matter how much it frightened her.

Joker held her jaw, tilting her head up to look at him with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine. “Is there a problem, Bunny?” he asked, his voice low and commanding.

She shook her head, feeling the weight of his hand against her skin, making it hard to think straight.

“Good,” Joker said, his lips brushing against hers in a possessive kiss. “Now, let’s go have a lie down, hmm? I know how class just wears you out,” he suggested, his tone oddly tender as he led her to the bed.

Y/n complied, allowing Joker to guide her onto the single bed. As he kicked off his shoes and settled in, she followed suit, slipping off her own shoes before nestling against his chest. His warmth enveloped her, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling the familiar comfort of his body against hers.

"You know I care very much about you, Bunny?" Joker said, his voice soft yet firm.

"Yes... I know," Y/n murmured, her heart fluttering at his words.

"Good," Joker said, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the top of her head, his touch surprisingly tender.

Looking at his wristwatch, Joker pushed himself up, not-so-gently dropping Y/n beside him. "Duty calls," he announced, his tone playful as usual.

"But it's only been like two minutes," Y/n protested, disappointment evident in her voice.

"I know, Doll... I'm gonna take you out tonight... how about that? Wear something nice, and I want you to use the money I got you, okay?" Joker suggested, a glint of excitement in his eyes.

Y/n had hoped he would have forgotten by now, it had been ages. "Yeah, okay, I'll go out and find something..." she replied, quielty.

Joker leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss on her lips. "Mwah!" he exclaimed with a grin before pulling back.

"Bye..." Y/n's voice trailed off as she watched Joker leave through her door.

She couldn't help but marvel at how he managed to slip away undetected every time, but she cracked it to Gotham University's apparent incompetence and obliviousness.

With a heavy sigh, she heaved herself up from her bed. It seemed like she wouldn't be catching a break anytime soon.

-

Y/n struggled to remember the last time she had gone shopping for clothes. She gingerly flipped through the stacks of bills, feeling a mix of awe and discomfort at the sheer amount of money in her possession. Each bill represented a dark and mysterious world she was inadvertently tied to, courtesy of the Joker's lavish gifts. Despite her reluctance to accept his extravagant gestures, she couldn't deny the allure of the possibilities they presented.

With a sigh, Y/n tucked the money into her bag and stepped out into the bustling streets of Gotham. The city seemed to pulsate with its own energy, the tall buildings casting eerie shadows on the sidewalks as people hurried by, lost in their own worlds.

As she wandered through the maze of shops and boutiques, Y/n couldn't shake the feeling of being out of place. The clothes on display were unlike anything she had ever worn before. Bold, daring, and utterly impractical. She hesitated in front of a boutique window adorned with shimmering dresses and edgy leather jackets, feeling a pang of uncertainty gnawing at her.

But then she remembered Joker's words, urging her to splurge and indulge in whatever caught her eye. With a newfound determination, she pushed open the door and stepped into the store, ready to explore this unfamiliar world of luxury and extravagance.

Lost in the sea of designer labels and vibrant colors, Y/n tried to navigate her way through racks of clothing that seemed to whisper promises of confidence and allure. She trailed her fingers over the fabrics, feeling a mixture of excitement and apprehension bubbling within her.

As Y/n looked through the racks of clothing, she sifted through each piece with a discerning eye. Among the array of options, a vibrant red dress caught her attention. It boasted a flattering knee-length hem and a square collar, but despite its appeal, Y/n couldn't shake the feeling that it lacked the wow factor she desired. With a sigh, she returned the dress to its place and continued her search, determined to find something truly captivating.

After what felt like an eternity of exploration, Y/n's patience paid off when her gaze fell upon a stunning black dress. The fabric shimmered enticingly under the store lights, drawing her in like a moth to a flame. As she reached out to touch it, her fingers traced the intricate stitching and delicate lace details that adorned the neckline, sending a shiver of excitement down her spine.

The dress exuded an air of confidence and allure that resonated with Y/n. She envisioned herself wearing it, knowing that it would accentuate her curves and command Joker’s attention. With Joker in mind, she couldn't help but imagine the look of admiration on his face when he saw her in such a striking ensemble.

Filled with determination, Y/n approached the checkout counter, the anticipation of owning the dress igniting a newfound sense of excitement within her. This was no ordinary purchase, it was a statement, a declaration of her newfound confidence.

As she handed over the wad of cash, Y/n couldn't help but feel a surge of guilt at the extravagance of her spending. The money was a reminder of the tangled web she found herself caught in, a constant reminder of the dangerous allure of the Joker's world.

But as she walked out of the boutique, clutching her new dress tightly, Y/n couldn't deny the thrill of stepping outside her comfort zone. Perhaps, just for tonight, she would embrace the luxury and excitement that came with being the Joker's Bunny.

-

With a mix of excitement and nervousness, Y/n slipped into the sleek black dress she had purchased earlier. Its smooth fabric hugged her figure in all the right places, boosting her confidence with each zip and adjustment. She paired it with elegant heels and subtle accessories, adding a touch of sophistication to her ensemble.

As she stood in front of the mirror, admiring her reflection, Y/n couldn't help but wonder where Joker would take her tonight. All he had said to her was he was taking her out, leaving her in suspense about their destination. Despite the uncertainty, she felt a thrill of anticipation coursing through her veins, eager to see what the evening had in store.

With a final glance at her reflection, Y/n took a deep breath and headed to the living room to wait for Joker. She perched herself on the edge of her bed, her heart racing with anticipation as she played with the hem of her dress, her mind buzzing with excitement for the night ahead.

As the door to her dorm room swung open, Joker stepped inside, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he took in Y/n's appearance. Rising to her feet, she greeted him with a smile, her heart fluttering at the sight of him.

"Look at you!" Joker exclaimed, his eyes lighting up as he gestured for her to spin around. Y/n complied, a soft giggle escaping her lips as she twirled gracefully.

"I see that money came in handy," Joker remarked, wrapping his arms around her waist affectionately.

"Thank you," she replied, her voice filled with gratitude.

"Let's get a move on!" Joker declared, intertwining his fingers with hers and leading her out of the dorm room.

Exiting the building, they encountered no security at the front desk, allowing them to slip away unnoticed. As they stepped out into the crisp Gotham evening, Joker suddenly halted, turning to face Y/n with a playful glint in his eye.

"Wait right here, Bunny. I've got a little surprise for you," he said, giving her a wink before disappearing into the darkness.

Y/n watched him go, her curiosity piqued. She shifted nervously on her feet, her mind buzzing with anticipation as she wondered what Joker had in store for her.

Y/n rocked back and forth on her feet as she waited for Joker's surprise. The evening air was cool against her skin, and the soft glow of the streetlights cast gentle shadows around her. She was so lost in her thoughts that she barely noticed someone approaching until she heard her name being called.

"Hey, Y/n!" The voice was familiar, and she turned around quickly, her expression lighting up as she saw Max walking towards her.

"Hey Max," she greeted him warmly, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

"Uh, you remembered my name," Max remarked, a playful glint dancing in his eyes.

Y/n chuckled, feeling a sense of ease wash over her in Max's presence. "It's not hard to forget," she quipped back, enjoying the lighthearted banter.

Max stepped up beside her, his hands tucked casually into the pockets of his hoodie. "You look lovely," he complimented her, his gaze warm and appreciative.

"Thank you," Y/n replied, a blush spreading across her cheeks at the sincerity in his words.

"Got something special planned?" Max asked, his curiosity piqued as he glanced around at their surroundings.

"My uuh... friend is taking me somewhere," Y/n explained, feeling a pang of uncertainty about how to refer to Joker in that moment.

"I see. Well, I hope you have a wonderful night and see you later then," Max said, offering her a friendly smile before stepping away.

"You too! Bye," Y/n called after him, watching as he walked away with a sense of gratitude for his kindness. 

As Y/n stood on the sidewalk, lost in her thoughts, she suddenly heard the revving of an engine. Glancing up, she saw a sleek purple Ford Cortina pulling up in front of her, the headlights casting an ethereal glow around the vehicle. Her heart skipped a beat as she realized that it was Joker behind the wheel.

The car's engine purred softly as Joker leaned over and rolled down the window, flashing her a mischievous grin. "Hop in, Bunny," he called out, his voice laced with excitement.

Y/n couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation as she approached the car, her pulse quickening with every step. As she slid into the passenger seat beside him, she couldn't help but admire the vintage vehicle, its purple exterior gleaming under the streetlights.

"Nice wheels," she commented, unable to hide her admiration.

Joker chuckled, his eyes alight with amusement. "It’s yours, Bunny," he said, giving her a wink before pulling away from the curb and merging into the flow of traffic.

"W-what? Really? For me?" Y/n stammered in disbelief, her eyes widening.

"Check the glove box," Joker instructed, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

Curious, Y/n complied, opening the compartment and finding it empty save for a single black box. With a mixture of anticipation and excitement, she retrieved the box, her fingers trembling slightly as she held it in her hands.

"Open it," Joker urged, a playful glint in his eyes.

With trembling hands, Y/n carefully lifted the lid of the box, revealing a stunning gold necklace adorned with a delicate "J" pendant. Her breath caught in her throat as she gazed at the exquisite piece of jewelry, her heart swelling with gratitude and affection.

"It's beautiful," she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper as she turned to Joker, her eyes shining with emotion.

"You spoil me too much, J!" Y/n exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with gratitude as she hugged him tightly.

Joker chuckled, his smirk widening at her reaction. "You deserve it, Bunny."

With a grin, Y/n removed her current necklace and replaced it with the new one, admiring the glint of the gold against her skin.

As the city lights cast a soft glow over them, Joker seized the moment at the stoplight. Leaning towards Y/n, he pressed his lips to hers, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver down her spine. His gloved finger trailed along her jawline, igniting a tingling sensation that danced across her skin like tiny sparks.

"You're J's Bunny, got that?" Joker's voice was low, filled with a mixture of affection and authority as he held her gaze, his eyes piercing into hers with intensity.

Y/n felt her pulse quicken as she nodded, her heart swelling with a mix of excitement and adoration for the man beside her.

"Good," Joker whispered, his lips brushing against hers once more before he leaned back, his attention returning to the road as the traffic light switched to green, signaling their onward journey into the night.

“I saw you talking with someone… Want to tell me about that?” Joker suddenly mentioned. 

The air in the car suddenly felt heavy as Joker's piercing gaze bore into Y/n. She could feel the weight of his disapproval pressing down on her, suffocating her with its intensity. Her fingers fidgeted nervously in her lap as she struggled to find the right words.

"That was just my friend…Max," Y/n finally confessed, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes fixed on the dashboard in front of her.

Joker's jaw tightened, his grip on the steering wheel growing tense. "I thought I told you to stay away from him," he reminded her, his voice cold and sharp.

Y/n's heart sank at the reprimand. She knew she had crossed a line, but Max had caught her off guard, and she hadn't wanted to be rude. "He approached me, Joker," she explained, her voice trembling with apprehension. "I couldn't just ignore him... it would have been rude."

Joker's grip on the steering wheel tightened further, his knuckles turning white with the pressure. He remained silent for a moment, his eyes fixed on the road ahead as they drove through the dimly lit streets of Gotham.

Beneath his face paint, a storm brewed in Joker's eyes, his usual charisma overshadowed by a brooding intensity. Y/n couldn't decipher the full extent of his emotions, but the tension radiating from him was palpable. It puzzled her why Joker was so fixated on someone like Max, and she struggled to understand the depth of his agitation over their brief interaction.

"I don't want you talking to him anymore, Bunny. I’ve already told you once…" he said firmly, his voice tinged with a hint of warning.

Y/n nodded silently, her stomach churning with unease. She knew better than to argue with Joker when he was in this mood. Instead, she cast a glance out the window, her mind racing with conflicting emotions.

As they continued their journey in silence, Y/n couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that gnawed at her insides. She couldn't help but wonder what would happen if she disobeyed him again.

The journey was filled with an uneasy silence, punctuated only by the occasional hum of the car engine and the distant sounds of Gotham's nocturnal activities. Finally, they arrived at their destination. A dimly lit alleyway nestled between towering buildings, their shadows looming ominously over the narrow passage.

Joker parked the car with a screech of tires, the headlights casting eerie shadows on the graffiti-covered walls. Y/n's heart raced as she stepped out of the car, her eyes darting nervously around the unfamiliar surroundings. This was undoubtedly another one of Joker's mysterious escapades, and she couldn't shake the feeling of apprehension that tinged the air.

As Y/n followed Joker deeper into the alley, she couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at her gut. The dim lighting and the deserted atmosphere made her skin crawl, but she tried to push aside her fears and focus on Joker's presence beside her.

"Where are we going?" she ventured to ask, her voice barely above a whisper.

Joker glanced back at her, a wicked grin spreading across his lips. "Somewhere nice, my dear Bunny," he replied cryptically, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

Y/n's heart fluttered nervously at his words, unsure of what awaited them at their destination. But she followed him nonetheless. Stopping at a weathered, rust-covered door, Joker pushed it open with a creak. The vibrant lights and pulsating music of a nightclub flooded out, momentarily overwhelming Y/n's senses. Her heart raced as Joker led her inside, the thumping bass reverberating through her chest.

"Cool it, Doll. It's just us," he reassured her, his voice cutting through the cacophony of sound.

As they entered the room, Y/n found herself surrounded by flashing lights and the rhythmic beat of the music with no people. It wasn't a typical nightclub setting, but rather a smaller, more intimate space adjacent to the main dance floor.

Her heart swelled with gratitude as she realized Joker's thoughtfulness. Despite his chaotic nature, he had arranged for a private space just for the two of them, understanding her anxieties and his own need for discretion.

"Dance with me," Joker declared, his eyes alight with mischief as he extended his hand to her.

As the music filled the room, Joker pulled Y/n close, his hand firm on her waist as they swayed to the beat. Y/n's heart raced with excitement and gratitude. Despite the chaos and danger that seemed to follow Joker wherever he went, moments like these made her feel that he was really worth it.

With each step and turn, Y/n couldn't help but smile, feeling a sense of belonging in Joker's arms. She was grateful for this moment of peace amidst the turmoil of their unconventional relationship. The music seemed to drown out the world outside, leaving only the two of them in their own little sanctuary.

As they danced, Y/n gazed up at Joker, feeling a surge of affection for the enigmatic man who had captured her heart. In his embrace, she felt safe and loved, despite the uncertainties that lay ahead. She silently thanked whatever fate had brought them together, cherishing this fleeting moment of happiness.

Lost in the rhythm of the music, Y/n couldn't help but revel in the experience, feeling the pulsating beat course through her veins. 

"I've never been to a nightclub before," Y/n admitted, her voice barely audible over the music.

Joker chuckled, the sound low and rich. "Well, you picked the right one for your first time, Bunny," he replied, twirling her around the room.

Y/n laughed, the sound mixing with the music as she allowed herself to be swept away by the moment. It didn't matter where they were or what dangers lurked outside, all that mattered was the warmth of Joker's embrace and the joy of being together.

Joker leaned in close to Y/n's ear, his breath warm against her skin. "Care for a drink, Bunny?" he whispered, his voice barely audible over the music.

Y/n nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Sure," she replied.

With a mischievous glint in his eye, Joker made his way over to the mini bar tucked away in the corner of the room. Expertly, he mixed together a concoction of spirits, his hands moving with practiced ease. After a few moments, he returned to Y/n's side, holding out a glass filled with the vibrant liquid.

"Here you go, my dear," Joker said, offering her the drink with a smirk. "Drink up." “What is it?” Y/n asked, taking a sip. 

"It's a little something I like to call 'Joker's Special'," he replied with a playful wink, watching intently as she took a sip. "Don't worry, Bunny, it's guaranteed to put a smile on your face."

Placing her cup down, Y/n hesitated for a moment, unsure of how Joker would react to her question. But she couldn't shake off her curiosity, and the need for clarity outweighed her apprehension.

"Hey umm… J?" Y/n started, using the new nickname she had given him, hoping to catch his attention.

Joker turned towards her, his piercing gaze fixed on her. "Yes, Doll?" he replied, his voice tinged with curiosity.

"...How did you know about Max... the first time I mean..." Y/n asked, her voice slightly faltering with uncertainty.

Joker's expression hardened, a flicker of annoyance flashing in his eyes. "What's it to you?" he retorted, his tone sharp and defensive.

"I-I was just curious, that's all," Y/n answered nervously, feeling a sense of unease creeping over her.

Y/n swallowed nervously, sensing the tension in the air. She could tell that Joker was growing increasingly irritated by her questions, but she couldn't let it go.

"It's just... I don't understand how you knew about him," Y/n continued tentatively, trying to tread carefully. "I mean, you're always so... aware of things."

Joker's expression softened slightly at her explanation, but the intensity in his eyes remained. He stepped closer to her, his presence looming over her.

"I have my ways, Doll," he replied, his voice low and measured. "Let's just say I keep tabs on what's important to me."

Y/n's unease deepened at his vague response, but a surge of conflicting emotions washed over her as Joker's words sank in. Despite the cryptic nature of his explanation, the acknowledgment that she was important to him stirred something within her.

Her heart fluttered at the realization, a mix of apprehension and a strange sense of validation coursing through her veins. Despite the uncertainty surrounding their relationship and Joker's unpredictable character, there was a strange comfort in knowing that she held significance in his eyes.

Suppressing the urge to dwell further on the implications of his words, Y/n forced a small smile, grateful for the fleeting moment of assurance amidst the mystery that shrouded their connection. She knew better than to dwell on the problems of their dynamic, choosing instead to embrace the fleeting sense of importance that Joker's acknowledgment bestowed upon her.

As the music continued to pulse through the room, Joker extended his hand toward Y/n, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Come on, Bunny, let's dance," he urged, his voice a playful whisper.

Y/n hesitated for a moment, her mind still grappling with the weight of their conversation. But with a deep breath, she pushed aside her lingering doubts and placed her hand in his, allowing him to pull her into the center of the room.

Their bodies moved in sync with the rhythm of the music, the space between them filled with an electrifying tension. Y/n found herself getting lost in the moment, the worries and uncertainties of the outside world fading away as she surrendered to the intoxicating allure of the dance.

With each twirl and sway, Y/n felt herself drawn closer to Joker, the magnetic pull between them growing stronger with each passing beat. And in that fleeting moment, amidst the pulsating lights and the thumping bass of the music, she allowed herself to forget about everything else and simply revel in the exhilarating freedom of the dance.

-

Y/n was practically bouncing in her seat with excitement as she took the driver's seat of her new car. Y/n was still at that age where driving was fun, but it had been quite some time since she last had the opportunity. Since moving away from her parents, she had relied on walking and public transportation to get around, so the prospect of hitting the road again filled her with giddy anticipation.

As Y/n navigated through the city streets, Joker sat beside her in the passenger seat, his presence filling the car with a playful energy. With every turn of the wheel, his gaze would occasionally drift toward her, his eyes lingering on her profile with a mix of amusement and something else she couldn't quite decipher.

Subtly, Joker's hand found its way to the space between their seats, his fingers grazing against Y/n's arm, clearly on purpose. Each touch sent a shiver down her spine, igniting a tingling sensation that danced along her skin. Despite the thrill of driving her new car, Y/n couldn't help but be acutely aware of Joker's proximity, his touch stirring up a whirlwind of emotions within her.

As they drove through the city, the night air filled with the buzz of activity, Y/n stole glances at Joker whenever she could. She couldn't help but notice the way his eyes sparkled with mischief, contrasting with the seriousness of his painted grin.

"Enjoying the drive, Bunny?" Joker's voice interrupted her thoughts, his tone light but carrying a hint of something deeper.

Y/n nodded, unable to suppress the smile that tugged at her lips. "Yeah, it's amazing. Thank you for letting me drive."

Joker chuckled, leaning back in his seat. "It’s yours, Doll. No need to thank me. And I want you to be careful, I don’t want my little Bunny getting hurt."

Y/n playfully rolled her eyes. "I'll do my best," she replied, her fingers tightening on the steering wheel as they continued on their journey.

Arriving back at the university dorms, Y/n drove to the parking lot tucked away behind the building. The area was quiet, illuminated only by the soft glow of streetlights, casting long shadows across the pavement.

Cutting the engine, Y/n turned to Joker with a hopeful smile. "Would you like to come in? Stay for a while?"

Joker's grin widened, his eyes alight with mischief. "I'd be delighted," he replied.

Exiting the car, they made their way toward the entrance of the dormitory. Each step echoed in the quiet night, the cool breeze brushing against their skin.

Inside, the dormitory buzzed with activity, the sound of music and chatter drifting through the halls. Y/n led Joker down the familiar corridor, the fluorescent lights casting a dim glow as they walked.

Arriving at her room, Y/n unlocked the door and ushered Joker inside. With a flick of the light switch, the room was bathed in a warm, comforting glow. Joker wasted no time in shedding his coat, tossing it carelessly onto the desk chair before flopping onto the bed, his shoes still firmly planted on his feet.

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully at his disregard for her tidiness. "You know how I feel about shoes on the bed," she chided, reaching over to unlace them.

Once his shoes were off, Y/n retrieved a fresh set of pyjamas from her wardrobe. "Close your eyes, please," she asked, slipping out of her own shoes before changing her clothes.

Joker feigned a pout. "But Bunny, I don't want to miss a moment of your beauty," he protested, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

Y/n rolled her eyes, trying to hide a smile. "You've seen enough of my beauty for one night. Close your eyes," she insisted again, trying to sound stern.

Joker sighed dramatically but complied, shutting his eyes with an exaggerated sigh. "Fine, but only because you asked so nicely," he teased, flashing her a grin before obediently closing his eyes.

After changing, Y/n turned to find Joker still lounging on her bed, his eyes closed as she had instructed.

"You can open your eyes now," she said, approaching him with a smile.

Joker opened his eyes, grinning at her. "Looking as lovely as ever, Bunny," he remarked, sitting up on the bed.

Y/n felt a warmth spread through her chest at his compliment. "Thank you," she replied, feeling a sense of contentment wash over her.

Joker patted the space next to him on the bed. "Come here, Bunny. Let's just relax for a bit," he suggested, his tone surprisingly soft.

Y/n joined him on the bed, snuggling into his side as they both settled in. As she leaned against him, Y/n stole a glance at Joker. His faded green hair was unkempt, yet somehow it suited him perfectly. She longed to run her fingers through it, but the memory of the grease that always seemed to coat it made her hesitate. Instead, she admired his features, even beneath the layers of makeup that concealed so much of his true self.

Her gaze lingered on his face, taking in the harsh lines of his scars accentuated by the red makeup. She knew from touching them that they were surprisingly soft, a contradiction to their intimidating appearance. And she couldn't help but wish she could see him without the makeup, to truly witness the man behind the facade.

She longed to kiss him without getting greasy red residue on her face, and to caress his cheek without leaving white handprints everywhere afterwards. Y/n yearned to see the face of the man who brought her unparalleled joy.

Joker peered down at her, his gaze magnetic. "Am I just that dashing, you can't take your eyes off me?" he quipped.

Y/n smirked. "I don't know, it's hard to tell with all that makeup," she retorted, her tone light but tinged with playful teasing. She knew she was pushing boundaries, but she couldn't resist.

Joker chuckled, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. "Ah, so my Bunny wants to see the man behind the mask, hmm?" he mused, leaning in closer to her.

Y/n felt her heartbeat quicken at his proximity, a mixture of excitement and nervousness coursing through her veins. "Of course I do," she replied coyly, unable to tear her gaze away from his captivating green eyes.

"But the makeup is what adds to the mystique," Joker countered.

"What if I don't want mystique? What if I don't want the Joker... What if I want J?" Y/n questioned, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

"What makes you think you can handle J?" he added with a smirk.

Y/n groaned and rolled her eyes. "Ugh! You're so frustrating," she said, turning away from him on the small bed.

"Now, is that any way to treat the man who just bought you a car?" Joker playfully put his hand on his hip.

"Stole! You stole me a car," Y/n retorted.

"How do you know I didn’t buy it?" Joker teased.

"You dropped a few thousand bucks in cash in my hands during a bank heist, and you really want me to believe you paid for this car with honest cash?" Y/n countered.

"Just because the cash wasn’t honest, doesn’t mean I didn’t buy it," Joker continued, pressing a sloppy kiss on her cheek.

Y/n couldn't help but laugh at Joker's playful antics, despite the tension that lingered between them moments ago. His unpredictable nature always kept her on her toes, but she found herself drawn to it nonetheless.

"Alright, alright," she said, her laughter subsiding. "Regardless of how you got the car, I appreciate it."

Joker grinned, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "That's my Bunny," he said, pulling her closer into a tight embrace. "Always appreciating my efforts, no matter how... unconventional they may be."

As they lay together, wrapped in each other's arms, Y/n smiled. Even though their conversation didn't go exactly as she had hoped, Joker still managed to put a smile on her face.

-

The next day, Y/n found herself walking with a newfound lightness in her step. The previous night had left her feeling great, the joy of their time together momentarily overshadowing her usual anxieties. Moreover, she appreciated the gesture from J, who had woken her up to say goodbye before leaving, a departure from his usual habit of slipping away silently while she slept. It seemed their relationship was evolving in a direction she welcomed.

Entering the lecture hall, Y/n descended the steps with a sense of anticipation. However, her momentum halted as a familiar voice called out her name.

“Hey, Y/n!” It was Max.

His friendly demeanor and wave caught her attention, and as she turned towards him, he motioned for her to join him. An internal conflict brewed within her as she hesitated. While Max had been nothing but kind, the warnings from Joker lingered in her mind like a shadow.

Nevertheless, she couldn't bear the thought of disregarding Max's invitation, especially after his gesture of friendliness. So, with a tight smile, Y/n made her way over to sit beside him.

“Hey, Max,” she greeted, trying to mask her unease.

“Did you have a good night?” Max inquired, his tone filled with genuine curiosity.

“Yeah, it was fun,” Y/n replied vaguely, opting not to divulge any specifics.

As the lecture began, Y/n tried to focus on the material, but her mind kept drifting. She couldn't shake off the feeling of being stuck. From the second Y/n had met Max, Joker was on her back about it, but she found it impossible to avoid him.

Throughout the class, Max occasionally leaned over to share a comment or joke, and Y/n found herself smiling in response, grateful for the distraction. Yet, each interaction with Max reminded her of the complicated web of secrets she was entangled in.

After the lecture ended, Max turned to Y/n with a friendly grin. "Hey, do you want to grab a drink or something? The cafe near the hub has this new drink I want to try out."

Y/n hesitated, torn between her desire to maintain a semblance of normalcy and the weight of her unconventional relationship with Joker. She glanced at her phone, noticing a text on her phone from an unknown id. Assuming it was just a spam message, Y/n ignored it, looking back up at Max.

"Yeah, sure," Y/n replied with a faint smile.

Exiting the lecture hall, Y/n and Max strolled down the corridor side by side, their footsteps echoing against the carpeted floor. As they reached the cafe, they paused in front of the wall menu, scanning the array of options before them.

After a brief moment of contemplation, Max turned to Y/n with a grin. "What do you feel like having today?"

Y/n shrugged, scanning the menu once more. "I'm not sure, maybe just a smoothie."

"Sounds good to me," Max nodded, stepping aside to let Y/n order first.

As Y/n stepped up to the counter to place her order, she felt a pang of guilt in her chest. Despite her resolve to avoid getting too close to Max, she couldn't help but appreciate his kindness. Yet, she couldn't shake off the feeling of unease, knowing Joker's disapproval lingered in the back of her mind.

After ordering her smoothie, Y/n stepped aside to let Max place his order. Their drinks were quickly made. With their drinks in hand, Y/n and Max found a table by the window, the warm sunlight streaming in, casting a gentle glow over their conversation. Max seemed genuinely interested in getting to know her better, asking about her hobbies, interests, and aspirations. Y/n found herself opening up more than she had expected, drawn in by his genuine curiosity and friendly demeanour.

As they chatted, Y/n couldn't shake off the feeling of being watched. Glancing around the cafe, her heart skipped a beat when she spotted a familiar figure standing across the street, obscured in the shadows. With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, Y/n recognized Joker immediately, his green locks standing out like a beacon in the crowd, even under a hoodie. 

It was as if her heart stopped as she saw Joker's unmasked face. Gone were the layers of black white and red paint that usually concealed his identity, revealing features that were both haunting and strangely attractive. His eyes, once obscured by dark makeup, now bore into hers with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. The scars that marred his face were stark against his pale skin, a testament to the trials he had endured. Yet, there was an unexpected softness to his expression, a vulnerability that lay hidden beneath the facade of menace. In that moment, Y/n realized that the man before her was not just the Joker, but someone infinitely more complex.

His glare, though obscured from this distance, seemed to taunt her from afar, filling her with a sense of dread that crept up her spine like icy fingers. 

The mere sight of him sent a chill through her, as if his gaze could pierce through the glass and lock onto her own. Despite her attempts to focus on the conversation with Max, her mind kept returning to the ominous figure she had glimpsed, his presence casting a pall over the otherwise mundane surroundings of the cafe.

Y/n's breath caught in her throat as she spotted Joker, her heart hammering against her ribs. Panic surged through her veins, the last thing she wanted was for Max to become entangled in the chaotic mess that was her life with Joker, especially after the continuous warnings he had given her.

"Um, Max," Y/n interrupted, her voice trembling slightly. "I think we should go. Now."

Max turned to follow her gaze, but by the time his eyes scanned outside, Joker had vanished into the university campus. Y/n's unease lingered like a heavy fog, her mind racing with the implications of Joker's sudden appearance.

"Is everything okay?" Max asked, concerned about etching his features.

Y/n forced a smile, but her nerves were on edge. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just... let's head to the hub, okay?"

Despite Max's protests, Y/n couldn't shake the feeling of dread that clung to her like a second skin. As they made their way back to the safety of the university grounds, her mind raced with the unanswered questions and the unsettling presence of the man she couldn't seem to escape.

And then her phone suddenly rang. The weight of the phone in her hand felt heavier than usual, each vibration a tangible reminder of the uncertainty that plagued her mind. Y/n's fingers trembled as she gingerly pulled her phone from her pocket, her heart pounding against her chest like a drumbeat of foreboding. The familiar sensation of dread washed over her as she stared at the screen, the words "Unknown Caller" glaring back at her like a sinister omen.

Max glanced back at her. "You need to get that?" he asked, his voice filled with understanding.

Y/n hesitated for a moment, her mind racing with conflicting thoughts, before nodding. "U-uh, yeah. Sorry, just a second," she replied, stepping aside to answer the call.

The bustling sounds of the university corridor seemed to fade into the background as she grappled with the decision to answer the call. Her mind raced with a flurry of anxious thoughts, each one a relentless echo of her fears. She knew exactly who it was, there was no denying it. With a shaky inhale, she finally mustered the courage to swipe her thumb across the screen, accepting the call with a trembling hand.

The ringing ceased, replaced by an eerie silence that seemed to stretch on for an eternity. Every second felt like an eternity as she waited for the voice on the other end to break the stillness, her pulse pounding in her ears like a relentless drumbeat of apprehension.

Her breath caught in her throat as she brought the phone to her ear, steeling herself for whatever awaited her on the other end. "Hello?"

"Go back to your dorm, now," came the chilling voice on the line, sending shivers down her spine.

Y/n's hands began to tremble, her voice faltering as she tried to reason with him. "J, come on... you can't be-"

"You're going to go home now before I make a scene in front of your precious boy toy," Joker interrupted, his tone laced with a dangerous edge.

Desperation welled up inside her as she pleaded with him. "J, you know it's not like that!"

"Do you really want to test me?" Joker's voice dripped with menace, sending a cold chill down her spine.

Y/n's heart plummeted like a stone sinking into the depths of a river as the call abruptly ended, leaving her with a gnawing sense of unease. Yet, all she was met with was the stark emptiness of the phone's display, a silent testament to the uncertainty that loomed over her.

Slowly, she looked away from the device, the weight of it feeling heavier in her trembling hands. With a heavy sigh, she tucked it back into her pocket, though the sense of dreed it had evoked lingered like a shadow cast across her thoughts.

Forcing herself to push aside the lingering unease, Y/n plastered a strained smile onto her lips as she rejoined Max. Despite her efforts to appear composed, the facade felt brittle and fragile, threatening to crumble with each passing moment. Yet, she knew she couldn't let her anxiety show, not when Max was standing beside her, oblivious to the turmoil churning within her.

With a deliberate effort, Y/n willed herself to focus on the present, pushing aside the unsettling encounter with Joker and the mysterious phone call that followed. But deep down, she couldn't shake the nagging sense of dread that had taken root in the depths of her being, casting a pall over even the simplest of interactions.

"Hey, sorry, Max. I need to get going," she said, her voice strained with apprehension.

Max nodded understandingly, though concern flickered in his eyes. "That's all good."

"Thanks for hanging out with me...bye," Y/n forced the words out, her heart heavy with worry.

"See ya," Max replied, offering a small smile before turning and walking away, leaving Y/n to grapple with the uncertain future that lay ahead.

With each step back to her dorm, Y/n felt as though she was wading through a thick fog of dread, her every movement weighed down by the oppressive atmosphere of uncertainty and fear. The dimly lit corridor seemed to stretch endlessly before her, its shadowy corners harbouring unseen threats that lurked just beyond her line of sight.

As she approached the worn wooden door of her dormitory, her heart pounded against her chest like a relentless drumbeat, the sound reverberating in her ears and drowning out all other noise. Each click of the key turning in the lock echoed through the stillness of the hallway, a stark reminder of her vulnerability in the face of the unknown.

A sense of foreboding washed over her as she reached for the doorknob, her fingers trembling with a mixture of hesitation and dread. The air around her seemed to crackle with tension, electrified by the presence that loomed ominously close behind her.

And then, as if from the depths of her darkest nightmares, his voice sliced through the silence like a knife, sending a chill down her spine and freezing her in place.

"Open the door, Doll," his words slithered into her ear like tendrils of cold, his breath ghosting over her skin with an icy touch that sent shivers cascading down her spine.

Her hands trembled as she fumbled with the key, her breath coming in shallow gasps. With a shaky twist, she finally managed to unlock the door, pushing it open with a creak. The room lay before her, the atmosphere suddenly growing cold.

It was Joker the closed the door. Joker's arm encircled her waist, his touch sending shivers down her spine. With a gentle yet firm grip, he guided her to face him, but she refused to look at him.

"Look at me, Bunny," he urged, his voice a low murmur that sent a chill through her bones.

Y/n hesitated, her eyes flickering with fear and uncertainty. "I-I don't want to," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Why not? Don't you want to see the face of your beloved J?" Joker's tone was taunting, his lips curling into a twisted grin.

"It's not that... I just... I want to see you when you're not angry with me," Y/n admitted, her voice laced with a mixture of fear and longing.

Joker's grip tightened slightly, his other hand lifting to caress her cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle. "And why do you think I'm angry with you, hmm?" he questioned, his voice soft yet tinged with an underlying edge of menace.

Y/n's words faltered as Joker's arm enveloped her, pulling her closer against his chest. She dared not utter another word as his presence loomed over her, enveloping her in a mixture of fear and desire.

Joker's lips brushed against her ear in a rough yet possessive kiss, sending a shiver down her spine. "Talk," he commanded, his voice a low growl that reverberated through her bones.

"I'm sorry, J. Please, Max, he's just a friend. You know that," Y/n pleaded, her voice trembling with fear.

"You're mine, Bunny. That means you belong to me and no one else," Joker asserted, his grip tightening on the necklace around her neck as he held it up for emphasis. "You see this? This J? That mean’s you’re mine." he growled, his voice laced with possessiveness.

"I-I'm allowed to have friends," Y/n insisted, her voice quivering with defiance.

"Why would you need anyone else when you have me?" Joker demanded, his tone laced with jealousy and anger.

"You're hardly ever around," Y/n shot back, her words tinged with frustration.

Joker's presence darkened at her retort, his breathing becoming labored with suppressed rage. "If it were up to me, you'd be tied up in my hideout, where only I can see you, where only I can know you," he spat, his words dripping with possessive intensity.

Y/n's heart raced as Joker's words hung heavy in the air, filling the room with tension. She could feel his grip on her tightening, his presence overwhelming her senses.

"Please, J, you're scaring me," Y/n whispered, her voice barely audible above the pounding of her own heart.

Joker's expression softened slightly at her plea, but the possessive gleam in his eyes remained. "You should be scared, Bunny," he murmured, his voice a dangerous whisper. "You belong to me, and I won't accept anyone trying to take you away from me."

Y/n's breath caught in her throat and her eyes already pouring with tears as she struggled to find the right words to calm him down. She knew that Joker's jealousy was irrational, but she also knew that trying to reason with him in this state would only make things worse.

"I understand, J. I belong to you," she said softly, her voice trembling with uncertainty. "I won't let anyone come between us."

Joker's grip on her loosened slightly at her words, and he pulled her into a tight embrace. "That's my good girl," he murmured, pressing a possessive kiss to her neck.

Y/n turned around, but still didn’t look at his face. As Y/n buried her face in his chest, she couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the air. She knew that her relationship with Joker was anything but ordinary, but she also knew that she couldn't bear to be without him, no matter how possessive and volatile he could be.

-

Joker had left shortly after their tense encounter, claiming he had "work to do." Y/n remained in her bed, the weight of their conversation heavy on her mind. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she grappled with the conflicting emotions churning inside her. 

Each word exchanged with Joker echoed in her mind, replaying like a haunting melody that refused to fade. The conflicting emotions churned within her like a tempest, pulling her in opposite directions with relentless force. Fear and uncertainty clawed at her heart, gnawing away at her resolve and leaving her feeling utterly drained. Despite the familiarity of these emotions, their intensity seemed to suffocate her, drowning her in a sea of doubt and apprehension.

After spending most of the day in bed, Y/n finally mustered the strength to get up. She knew she needed something to lift her spirits, even if just for a moment. With her stash of snacks depleted, a trip to the dairy for a drink or a treat seemed like the only option to get through the night.

Grabbing her wallet, Y/n ventured out into the dimly lit streets of Gotham. Despite the familiar unease that settled over her, she pressed on, her determination to escape her own thoughts overshadowing any fear of the dangers lurking in the shadows.

As Y/n walked down the dimly lit streets of Gotham, her senses heightened by the eerie silence of the night, she heard the unmistakable sound of someone struggling around the corner. Curiosity mingled with apprehension as she hesitated, uncertain whether to investigate or flee from potential danger.

With a heavy heart and trembling hands, she cautiously approached the corner, the rhythmic thuds of her heart echoing in her ears. Peering around the edge, her breath caught in her throat as she beheld a scene that froze her in terror.

Down the dimly lit street, illuminated by the faint glow of flickering streetlights, she saw Joker, his menacing silhouette towering over a figure writhing on the ground. Anguished cries pierced the silence, sending shivers down her spine as she watched in horror.

Just as she watched Joker lift his leg, poised to deliver a brutal blow, Y/n's scream pierced the night air like a gunshot. "J, No!" she yelled, her voice cracking with desperation.

Joker froze mid-motion, his eyes locking onto Y/n with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. "Uhh, Doll... Don't you have comedic timing, come to watch, have you?" he quipped, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Heart pounding in her chest, Y/n approached cautiously, her gaze fixated on the figure lying defenseless at Joker's feet. As she drew closer, the dim light revealed the familiar features of Max, battered and bruised, his face contorted in pain.

"Max!" Y/n cried out, her voice trembling with anguish as she attempted to rush to his aid. But before she could reach him, Joker's vice-like grip on her arm yanked her back with a forceful tug, halting her in her tracks.

Max lay on the ground, gasping for air as blood trickled down his battered face. Y/n's heart clenched at the sight of him, his once lively eyes now dull with pain. "J! Why?" she pleaded, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Joker shrugged indifferently, a smirk playing on his lips. "Had to send a message somehow, Doll," he replied casually, as if discussing the weather.

Y/n's sobs grew louder, her voice choked with anguish. "P-please... Please don’t kill him," she begged, her desperation palpable.

Joker tilted his head, considering her plea with feigned interest. "Hmm, now why would I listen to you? You didn’t listen to me," he taunted, his tone dripping with malice.

Panic surged through Y/n as she fell to her knees, grasping desperately at Joker's arm. "I’m sorry, you were right, I should have listened. Please just leave him alone. Come back to my dorm with me, please!" she pleaded, her words a desperate plea for mercy.

Joker's gaze softened slightly at Y/n's tearful plea, but his resolve remained firm. With a sigh, he released Y/n's grip and took a step back, gesturing to Max with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Consider yourself lucky this time, Bunny," he said, his voice laced with a warning. "But don't forget this little token of generosity."

Joker's footsteps echoed loudly against the silent streets as he dragged Y/n alongside him, his presence looming over her like a shadow. Y/n cast a worried glance back at Max's bloody form on the concrete, her heart heavy with guilt and fear.

"Is he going to be okay?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Joker shrugged nonchalantly, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Doesn’t matter," he replied, his tone sending a chill down Y/n's spine.

Y/n's stomach churned with unease as they continued their journey back to her dorm, the weight of Joker's words hanging heavy in the air. She couldn't shake the feeling of dread that gripped her, knowing that she had once again crossed a line she couldn't uncross.

As they approached her dormitory, Y/n's heart raced with apprehension. She knew Joker's presence would only bring more chaos into her already turbulent life, yet she couldn't deny the strange allure he held over her.

With a heavy sigh, Y/n unlocked the door and stepped inside, feeling Joker's presence loom behind her. She glanced back at him, her eyes pleading silently for him to leave, but he remained unfazed, his gaze fixed on her with an intensity that made her shiver.

"Come on, Bunny, let's have a little chat," Joker said, his voice dripping with a mixture of menace and amusement.

Y/n's stomach churned with dread as she led Joker into her dimly lit room, the weight of their unresolved tensions hanging thick in the air. She braced herself for whatever was to come, knowing that with Joker, nothing was ever as it seemed.

As they entered her room, Y/n couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that settled over her like a suffocating blanket. She stood by the door, her eyes darting nervously between Joker and the cramped space around them.

Joker strolled into the room with a casual swagger, his eyes glinting with mischief as he surveyed his surroundings. He seemed to take delight in the discomfort he caused, relishing in the tension that hung thick in the air.

"So, Bunny, let’s talk." Joker's voice was laced with a dangerous edge, his tone daring her to defy him.

Y/n swallowed hard, her mind racing as she searched for the right words to placate him. She knew she was treading on thin ice, and one wrong move could have dire consequences. But beneath the fear, there was a flicker of defiance burning within her, a stubborn refusal to bow down to his every whim.

"I-I just... I thought... Maybe... I have no friend’s J…" Y/n stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Joker's lips curled into a sinister grin, his eyes narrowing into menacing slits. "And that’s a problem?" he growled, his words dripping with venom.

Y/n's heart pounded in her chest as she struggled to maintain her composure in the face of Joker's relentless dominance. She knew she was trapped in his web, with no way out but to play by his rules. And as Joker advanced towards her with a predatory gleam in his eyes, she couldn't help but wonder how much longer she could endure this twisted game of cat and mouse.

Joker's presence loomed over her, casting a shadow that seemed to swallow her whole. He reached out, his fingers curling around her chin to tilt her face up to meet his gaze. 

"Bunny, why do you need friends when you have me?" His voice was honeyed, persuasive, but beneath the smooth exterior lurked a darkness that sent shivers down her spine.

"You're all I need, Y/n. Friends are nothing but distractions, pulling you away from what truly matters," Joker continued, his grip tightening ever so slightly.

Y/n's heart pounded in her chest as she struggled to resist the pull of his words. She knew deep down that he was wrong, that she needed human connection beyond the twisted confines of her relationship with Joker. But his persuasive words wormed their way into her mind, clouding her judgment and leaving her feeling utterly powerless.

"Besides, who needs friends when you have me to take care of you?" Joker's voice took on a seductive tone, his lips curling into a wicked smile.

Y/n's resolve wavered as she found herself drawn into his web of manipulation. She wanted to believe that she could break free from his control, but with each passing moment, it seemed that Joker's hold over her grew stronger. And as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against her ear, she couldn't help but wonder if she would ever find a way out of this twisted dance with the devil.

As Joker's words sank in, Y/n felt a surge of conflicting emotions coursing through her. Part of her wanted to push him away, to break free from his manipulative grasp and reclaim control over her own life. But another part of her, the part that had grown accustomed to his presence and the twisted comfort he offered, hesitated.

"I... I guess you're right," Y/n murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

A satisfied smirk tugged at the corners of Joker's lips as he leaned back, releasing his hold on her chin. "Of course, I am, Bunny. I always know what's best for you," he purred, his tone dripping with arrogance.

Y/n forced a weak smile, the weight of her decision settling heavily on her shoulders. She knew deep down that she was sacrificing her own happiness for the sake of appeasing Joker, but the fear of his wrath and the allure of his promises were too potent to resist.

"Thank you, J," Y/n said softly, her voice tinged with resignation.

Joker's grin widened, a predatory gleam flickering in his eyes. "Anytime, Bunny. Remember, you're mine, and I'll always take care of you," he whispered, his words wrapping around her like tendrils of smoke.

As Y/n nestled into Joker's embrace on her bed, she couldn't shake the heaviness that settled over her. Despite being in Joker's arms, a sense of unease gnawed at her insides, casting a shadow over the supposed comfort of their closeness. Yet, she clung to him, desperately seeking reassurance that his presence alone could provide. After all, if she had Joker by her side, everything had to be alright...right?

-

A/N: Sorry it took so long for this part two to come out but I am so happy to have finished it! I've had it on my mind for AGES but I've had three assignments to get done and then three tests to study for so I thought it would be best to focus on uni first before writing anything and I am SO glad to have gotten them out of the way :P I really liked writing this part because I got to make Joker a bit of a dick. I hope you all enjoyed it and thank you again @chaos-4baby for requesting a part two, I cannot explain how much it means to me, like fr. You are amazing and the queen of Joker fics (Joker's Queen) and thank you to everyone else who did as well, love you all 💚

[callimara]

Breath of the Wild!Jelsa AU (Analysis & Parallels)

Yes yes I know I’m at it again but dear reader, I ask that you once again HEAR ME OUT and LET ME COOK.

At some point in the middle of the day today as I am cleaning the house, the idea came to me like a vision and the more I thought about it, the more the lines started CONNECTING and MAKING SENSE.

In part I am writing this as I have a deep love for both The Legend of Zelda franchise (and Breath of the Wild IN PARTICULAR as my first Zelda game) AND Rise of the Guardians (I do not feel particularly strongly about Frozen aside from Elsa as a character, but I DO feel EXTREMELY strongly for Jelsa, which is NECESSARY for this AU and comparison to work!!!) and another part an attempt to get my very good, very intelligent, extremely GIFTED friend and favorite fic writer @therentyoupay into ANOTHER ship I am deeply passionate about: ZeLink.

So perhaps this analysis post can be best summed up as "Explaining ZeLink through the lens of Jelsa" or vise versa.

In fact, ZeLink is another ship I am already planning a video on, but for now, this particular AU calls to me and demands to be elaborated on and perhaps illustrated at some point 👀

Who is Who?

For this post, I will be focusing on the Three Bearers of the Triforce:

Ganon/Ganondorf (Triforce of Power),

Zelda (Triforce of Wisdom), and

Link (Triforce of Courage),

who are always being reborn and fated meet, and the central characters of every LOZ story (but we'll get to the Champions in the next post)

As the prevailing bearer of the Triforce of Power, Ganon or Ganondorf (his human form) is the archnemesis of Link and Zelda.

With titles such as The Prince of Darkness and The Demon King, it's only right that this role is given to Pitch Black.

Power

Unlike Link or Zelda whom, among their many incarnations, may not be in possession of their respective Triforces, Ganon is always the bearer of the Triforce of Power due to his sheer desire for ruling the world with an iron fist. This is the same desire expressed by Pitch Black in both the movies and books, as his ambition is to cover the world in darkness and fear: completely under his control. Their powers are similar in nature, it corrupts and leaves a stain (malice) on the wider environment. They share a love of conquest and destruction and delight in seeing those around them suffer.

Scheming

Though both Ganon and Pitch are undoubtedly capable of taking what they want with sheer brute force, both characters possess a penchant for scheming and tactical strategy. They conquer not only on the battlefield, but in the court of politics, where necessary. Though we don't see this demonstrated in BOTW, we do see his political savvy and the extend of his scheming in Tears of the Kingdom when he still possessed his human form. They are incredibly dangerous tacticians that is often one step ahead of the heroes, thus able to out-maneuver them and gain the upper hand.

Hubris

As is often their undoing, their confidence in being ahead causes them to lose their composure. Power corrupts, and this weakness of mind causes them to make fatal, self-destructive mistakes that create an opening for the Hero to seize.

A Hero Destined to Rise Against Him

In both of Ganon/Ganondorf and Pitch's cases, they are destined to be ultimately defeated by a Chosen Hero who wields a Weapon that can seal their Darkness.

Which segways us perfectly to our next character, our Chosen Hero!

Unsurprisingly, Jack Frost fits Link's role as the Hero of the Wild in the story perfectly.

Chosen for A Big Destiny

Although unlike Link, Jack was not personally aware of the "why" for his existence and recruitment into the Guardians until much much later, he was indeed, nevertheless chosen. The reasons for his choosing, in broad strokes, are similar to Link's circumstances. Both of them demonstrated high levels of relevant proficiency and prowess in their respective roles (Guardian/Royal Knight) which led to them being chosen for their respective titles. Link as the Princess' Appointed Knight and Legendary Hero Who Wields The Sword That Seals the Darkness, and Jack as the Immortal Spirit of Winter and later, Guardian of Fun Destined to Save the Guardians and Defeat Pitch Black.

Rebirth

A striking resemblance between Jack and BOTW Link is perhaps their theme of "the end becomes the beginning" in which both experience Death After a Great Sacrifice and are Reborn Anew. Both of these fairy boys died protecting someone they cared about, regardless of cost or consequence, and upon being brought to life from the brink of death, they are forever changed as people.

For Jack, this comes in the form of new powers, new domains, and the new experience in being a Spirit. For Link, it's a bit more literal, as he seemingly adopts a much more open, lively, carefree personality in the absence of his former duties, burdens, and responsibilities that (in canon) brings him to resemble Jack Frost better than his former persona as a royal knight.

Loss of Memory

Another striking resemblance between Jack and Link is the circumstances of their rebirth, which came at the cost of their memories and their former identities. Not knowing who they were or what their purpose was, they wandered the land aimlessly in search of meaning, until destiny eventually guides them to their Reason for Existing.

In fact, both of their rebirths also involve being lifted from pools of water

But even though both Jack and Link recover some semblance of their memories and identities Before, it is unclear just how much left remained lost.

Past Lives

Let’s be real here, Pre-Calamity Link is NOTHING like Pre-Spirit Jack. While Pre-Calamity Link is serious, focused, stoic and Silent, Jack has pretty much always been the same person before and after his Rebirth. But, Jack was also a simple peasant boy who Definitely Had No Ambition To Become A Knight. But in this AU, let’s say he did. Let’s say he was determined to follow in his father’s footsteps to become a royal knight. Let’s say he finds the Legendary Weapon That Seals The Darkness, and that seals his fate.

Certainly, he’ll never be as serious and stoic or Silent as Pre-Calamity Link was, no matter how much pressure he’s in. But perhaps, it makes him just a bit more Intense and Guarded.

Lone Wolf But Stronger in a Pack

Obviously we know that Jack Frost flew solo for pretty much his entire life as a spirit, and he gained quite a renown for himself in doing so, and it it s indisputable that while he was Strong On His Own, he was Much Stronger With The Guardians. Despite never working in a team before, teamwork came naturally to Jack, and it only served to amplify his strengths while covering his weaknesses.

Now, what about Link? For the majority of BOTW, Link travels alone, and while he is completely Lethal and Unstoppable as is, similarly to Jack, he only really grows stronger through reconnecting with the Ghosts of his deceased friends, who each lend him their Power and Support in a more literal sense. Once you resolve each quest in the Four Regions of Hyrule, your friends will make the final battle against Calamity Ganon much easier than if you were to head straight there by yourself.

And of course, Link would not have been able to defeat Calamity Ganon at all if it hadn’t been for Princess Zelda, and the reverse is also true. They must work together to Seal Calamity Ganon for the next 10,000 years.

Devoted

Both Link and Jack are deeply dedicated to those they have formed attachments to. If you played BOTW and/or TOTK, you know just how deeply devoted and dutiful Link was to Zelda, willing to let the entire Kingdom of Hyrule fall to keep her safe, choosing to stay with her and help her escape the kingdom (abandoning his Duty, abandoning his Destiny) and just as willing to lay his life down to spare hers.

Jack is similarly dedicated as we see from his interactions and protectiveness of Baby Tooth and Jamie Bennett, and how he charged straight into the eye of the storm of Pitch’s sand vortex to save Sandy. Those who give love to him, he gives love readily back.

Wild

This one is quite self-explanatory, but I will explain anyway!

As the titular Hero of the Wild, Link is every bit a woodsman and outdoor survivalist as his name implies. He is an unstoppable force of nature that can and will survive anything nature throw at him (be it lightning strikes, monsters, or Laser-Blasting-Malice-Possessed Guardians [no, not THOSE Guardians]). Link thrives in the wilderness, just him and the elements, and perhaps the occasional pot lid and soup ladle (if he’s really strapped for weapons, a mop will also do). Really, it speaks to his resourcefulness and resilience, his independence and self-sufficiency. Though perhaps, at the cost of certain things like manners, propriety, and respect for public and/or private property (of course he had to break all those clay pots, what if there was something inside? Of course he had to jump into the garden pond and grab fish with his bare hands, how else is he going to get protein for his seafood meunière? of course—). Much like Jack Frost.

If there was one word to describe the Winter Spirit, it was certainly, and similarly, ‘Wild.’ After all, he is undoubtedly the most unpredictable spirit to become a guardian, and even before then, he had made a name for himself for being quite formidable and intimidatingly ferocious when he wants to be. He does as he pleases with no fear or shame of what others may think. And similarly, this often lands both Blond Fairy Boys a fierce scolding from many people, not that it deters their behaviour in any way shape or form.

They will learn absolutely nothing from these scoldings and will 100% do it again. But stealthier, craftier, perhaps.

Unless, of course, the scolding comes from a Particular Wise and Beautiful Princess. Only then they will consider. And it is only this Wise and Beautiful Princess who is capable of tempering their wildness just enough to be a functioning member of the community.

Fearless

As the Triforce of Courage, it is perhaps a given that its bearer will readily face down any challenge or adversary without hesitation. No matter how big, no matter how impossible, no matter what. Jack and Link are always ready for a fight, for action; their heart pumps for the thrill of adventure and the unknown, new experiences, meeting new people. The two are travelers who prefer to take the scenic—read: deeply unconventional and unsafe—route, taking as many detours as possible. And if they land in trouble, then it’s all the more Fun.

Jack and Link are Fearless in every way one could be. For Link, it is simply in his immortal, undying nature. For Jack, as Fear’s archenemy, he cannot afford to harbor it within him, and that is precisely how he navigated his way through immortality: with Fun and Light and Hope. Diving headfirst from a giant waterfall? Bring it on! Taking on an entire hoard of ferocious monsters alone with nothing but a pot lid and soup ladle? Challenge accepted. Jumping on the backs of Animals You Definitely Shouldn’t Use as Mounts and riding them anyway? Give them five minutes.

Notoriously Good-Looking

To keep it short and sweet, both Link and Jack have been described in their respective media (by various characters) to be notably handsome, and they themselves are aware of this fact and Very Confident About It. They are very comfortable in their own skin (perhaps too comfortable) though their handsomeness does not always shine through, in great part due to their Erratic Behaviour and Strange Fashion Choices (“look, it made perfect sense at the time.”).

Jack-of-all-Trades

Both Jack and Link are undoubtedly masters at their signature weapons (Jack with his Shepherd’s Crook and Link with the Master Sword and Hylian Shield), though Link has a more diverse skill set than Jack as per the ROTG movie. Link excels with any kind of weapon (or even household objects) he can get his hands on: short swords and clubs, two-handed weapons (including but not limited to: great swords, axes, and bats), spears, wands, and arguably his strongest weapon, the bow and arrow, with which he is able to shoot up to five arrows at once in a spread and enter Bullet Time when he is in the air. And he can also do all this on horseback, of course. It makes him an incredibly versatile fighter and well-equipped for survival in the wild.

While Jack is limited to his Shepherd’s Crook in the movie, he does not exclusively wield it as such. In the action scenes of the movie, we see Jack wield his staff to cast magic like a wand, attack with the slicing motion of a sword, the stabbing of a spear, and even the swing of a bat. In the books, 5 years after the movie’s release, William Joyce has also written Jack to be able to shapeshift his staff into a bow and arrow, giving him a more Hunter-like appearance

He is also apparently fluent in squirrel and chipmunk speak. I did not know this.

Something I did in “more than you know” (my collab fic with therentyoupay) was push this ability a bit further to allow Jack to shapeshift his staff into a variety of weapons, not just a bow and arrow, such as an ice sword or axe. We can apply the same idea here, to better reconcile the skillsets of Jack and Link.

But a shared key trait that already exists is that without any weapons (barehanded) Jack and Link cannot fight (unlike their Princesses, who are stronger with their magic as opposed to any physical weapon).

Snowboarding/Shield-Surfing

Fun is an essential component of Jack’s character. It is his CORE, what makes him WHO HE IS. However, it is also an important part of Link’s character, particularly post-Calamity. Aside from frolicking in—read: terrrorizing—the wilderness, campfire-cooking, and completing Korok puzzles, a favorite pastime of Link’s is an activity called shield-surfing, which is exactly what it sounds like: using his shield to sled down hills of grass, deserts, and snowy mountains. And he’s quite good at it too! Canonically, he holds several records in shield-surfing from the snowy peaks of Hebra to the vast Gerudo Desert, and even incorporates it into his fighting.

And who else would be particularly terrific at snowboarding other than Jack Frost himself? It was actually stated in the DVD Featurette for Rise of the Guardians that Jack’s entire concept was inspired by skateboarders, and that they wanted him to glide in the wind with the skill of an Olympic snowboarder (hey anyone wanna make an AU with Olympic Snowboarder Jack?), which we do see him doing with his staff at several points in the movie!

Clearly, this is a perfect parallel. A mirror even. If you will.

Smart Mouth

One of my (and I’m sure many others) favorite things about Jack is his quick-with and sharp tongue. He’s always ready with a sassy remark or a snide comment and I think that’s one of the things that make him so Fun! Now, for a comparison with Link, you’re probably thinking this should be a major difference as Link is well known to be The Silent Protagonist Ever, but as many players of BOTW and TOTK have noticed and accurately pointed out, Link is given dialogue options for the players to choose from when interacting with NPCs, which in itself implies that that is Link speaking and responding to NPCs questions.

I am of the opinion that these are Link’s own words rather than the “player’s” responses being spoken through Link, and the reason I think this is because these options show off some degree of personality rather than remaining neutral to allow players to project onto them, and often times more or less reiterate the same message, just in different words (hinting that IC, Link will ONLY agree or disagree to those things).

some of my favorite examples of Link’s dialogue options:

Making seal puns while renting sand seals:

The one below is exemplary because the only two options are either to flirt shamelessly or ruin her day.

This is also not including the fact Eiji Aonuma (the creator of The Legend of Zelda) himself has said that all Links are “bastards” in their own unique ways and indeed, the persistent inclusion of his jerky and sassy dialogue options across all LOZ games is further evidence of this.

So of course, who better to keep this sassy lost child in check than The Wisest Person in the Land?

Zelda Hyrule, the Triforce of Wisdom is the perfect role for someone like Elsa Arendelle.

There are many parallels between this iteration of Zelda (as opposed to other Zelda’s of the different games) and Elsa.

Wisdom

As the bearer of the Triforce of Wisdom, all incarnations of Zelda are blessed with superior intelligence and wisdom, traits that are also prevalent in Elsa. The Triforce of Wisdom doesn't JUST impart divine wisdom upon its holder, it also grants the holder untold mystical abilities (see: Elsa's ice powers and ability to create sentient life), and the ability to heal others (see: Elsa thawing Anna and the Fjord). The Triforce of Wisdom leads its holder to make the right decisions, making them wiser than any mortal. Elsa is much the same, though hers is a result of her own temperament and upbringing.

As the Triforce of Wisdom, Zelda is a constant presence of guidance and support for Link in many of her game iterations (including this one), and she has always stood side by side with him to defeat Ganon.

Duty-Bound

Both Elsa and Zelda have momentous weights on their shoulders as the Crown Princesses of their respective kingdoms, and this is a responsibility that both Princess-turned-Queens take very seriously. Though this position brings them no joy—if not, in fact the complete opposite—they are deeply devoted to their cause, their kingdom, their families, and as a result, they continue to strive to excel in it and meet seemingly impossible expectations. They force themselves to fit the mold of this role, even at the cost of who they are as a person and their personal wants or desires.

Hiding their true selves

This is a very large proponent of both Elsa and Zelda's struggle in their respective stories:

Elsa has had to hide her ice powers for the majority of her life. But her ice powers are something that is inextricably a large part of who she is, something she cannot change or be rid of, and yet it is something she was made to never express or show or hone. Instead, she has had to suppress and neglect them to pass as "normal." She had been raised to associate her powers with fear, with danger, with solation. She was made to see them as useless, something to be ashamed of, and something to never be given a second glance.

Zelda is a scholar and a researcher, she is a curious person with a passion for studying the world around her. She wants to learn, to study, to educate, but instead this goal is considered "frivolous" and "unimportant" by her father. It is stamped as a distraction, and blamed as the reason Zelda has yet to awaken her Sealing powers, despite the fact her passion and determination for research was fueled by her shortcomings as The Princess with the Blood of the Goddess. It was her way of contributing to the coalition's preparations against The Calamity, even without her powers.

Additionally both Elsa and Zelda have a mask for who they believe they should be: a regal, elegant, level-headed royal who is mature and Above Silly Games when in reality, they are vivacious young women who would have loved to engage in said Silly Games, and have more love to give than what they were allowed.

Grand Destinies

Another similarity that is shared between Elsa and Zelda are the grand destinies that awaited them, and were expected to fulfill. There are slight divergences in both, but the broad strokes remain the same:

Both royals possess a unique and unstoppable power that drives the narratives of both stories forward

They are both fated to be the Key in preventing a Great Calamity (Zelda was destined to seal away Calamity Ganon, a force of hatred and malice that arose every 10,000 years with her Sealing Powers, and Elsa was destined to become the Bridge between the Spirits and the Humans in the Enchanted Forest as the Fifth Spirit, which allowed her to prevent Arendelle's destruction)

Both their powers are mysterious and unknowable, and its growth and behavior eludes the both of them

Their respective powers brought them great distress (for completely opposite reasons, mind, but we'll get to that) and is a constant source of struggle in their stories.

Loss

Both queens lost their parents at a young age. The absence of their parents caused a deep trauma that affected their ability to regulate or control their powers in some way. Zelda losing her mother so young meant she never got the chance to learn to use her powers. This lack of guidance would later indirectly result in her losing her father due to her not being able to awaken her powers in time.

For Elsa, it is much the same. The lack of guidance in her life only further widened the ridge not only between herself and her sister, but also the wider community. It prevented her from being able to form connections as well as she could have.

Adored

Despite her Shortcomings, Failures, and Insecurities, both Zelda and Elsa are always surrounded by love and people who adore them. These people see them for them, who they are as people as opposed to their powers, their position, and their destinies. These people see how hard she works and appreciate her dedication, and they are always ready to offer comfort and reassurance to assuage their Negative Thoughts. They may not always remember or be aware of this, but they are always the apple of many’s eyes.

Shared Personality Traits

A quick list of similar key personality traits between Zelda and Elsa that make Elsa a great stand-in for Zelda because there is Just So Much

Withdrawn, hesitant, unsure of herself (AT FIRST)

TERRIFIED of the destiny that awaited them (Fulfilling a prophecy, ruling a kingdom and potentially destroying it)

Isolated and made to keep to herself

Studious, intelligent, diligent

Resourceful and determined

So full of fear, yet fearless nonetheless

Awe-inspiring leaders

Well-mannered and conducts herself well (except where Certain Blond Men are involved)

Slow to warm up to people, especially when it comes to Certain Blond Men That Follow Them Around Everywhere

Has a hard time talking about or expressing their feelings until it's All Just Too Much and Entirely Too Late

But deep down are very warm and kind

Patient and understanding, usually. But Certain Blond Men tend to test their limits. (at least, at first)

Differences

Of course, there are also differences that may potentially be Game Breaking, so let's discuss a few of them and how they could be accommodated

The Fear of their Power

Where Elsa feared her power due to its strength and her inability to pacify or control it, Zelda's fear comes from the fact she may not even have the powers she was supposed to have, compounded by the fact that the Kingdom's survival entirely hinges on Zelda mastering her powers and using it.

Where Elsa fears using her powers, Zelda fears not being able to use hers in time. Though the fear itself is a common thread, the cause is very much opposite and paramount to the driving force between their respective stories.

Failure

A big component of Zelda's story that Elsa lacks in hers. When Elsa fails or makes a mistake, she is able to undo all the damage she caused with minimal consequences to herself and the wider environment (resurrects Anna, thaws the fjord, discovers the secrets of her family's past, reconnects the spirits to humans, saves Arendelle from a tidal wave).

When Zelda fails, the consequences are permanent and lasting. Failing to awaken her powers in time—despite spending hours for multiple days on end praying before the Goddess statues for guidance in nothing but ceremonial robes, and occasionally in freezing cold waters until she collapsed—she was unable to stop the destruction of her kingdom, the deaths of her friends and family (who went to battle for her, on her behalf), and even (for a time) the person she loved, who refused to leave her side until the bitter end. Zelda would never see her friends and father again, her champion had lost a majority of his memories (save for the ones he had of her) and may never be the person she once knew, and the Kingdom of Hyrule as it was will never return. The damage has been done, and she can only pick up the pieces of What Remained and start anew.

This fear and burden of failure is a pervasive theme in Zelda's story. She is perceived as a failure by her own father, and even the wider kingdom court due to her inability to awaken and wield the power that had been passed down from generation to generation. This is an aspect lacking in Elsa's story, who was the first in her name to wield ANY sort of magical ability.

Resentment

Due to her inability to awaken her powers, Zelda developed a resentment towards Link, who had already found and been chosen by the Master Sword and stepped into his Destiny as The Hero Who Wields The Sword That Seals The Darkness. She saw his accomplishments, his skill and readiness as a slight against her own shortcomings, and the presence of the legendary sword on his back served as a constant reminder of her failures. She projected her insecurities onto him, believing that he too thought she was a failure, that he looked down on her or was disappointed in Who She Was despite her supposedly being the Princess With The Blood Of The Goddess even though he adored her from the start, since the first time they met, and it only furthered their divide. At least, In The Beginning.

unfortunately, we live in a reality where Jack and Elsa have never met in any official media, and so, we cannot say if Elsa and Jack would absolutely react in a similar way to each other under the same circumstances, but this gives us plenty of room to work with!

Reconciliation

As this is a BOTW AU for Jelsa first and foremost, we will be applying aspects of Zelda's story into Elsa's to blend her better in the world, and if you've read my collaborative Jelsa project with Kris (more than you know) you may see that some of these aspects have already been implemented and work very well to create a compelling story.

Elsa, instead of struggling with Too Much Power she Fears and Cannot Control, is unable to summon them from inside of her, despite the Kingdom's safety entirely hinging on her mastery of it. This fills her with great distress and self-loathing, causing her to doubt herself and her own self-worth in relation to her powers (or lack thereof) in a similar way to her original portrayal, just for differing reasons, and she finds herself projecting these feelings onto Jack due to the pressure and stress of it all.

However, they do reconcile. She learns the error of her ways, apologizes for her mistake, and they start over with a clean slate. Finally, they begin to develop a bond, growing closer than they thought they would.

And of course, it wouldn't be BOTW without devastation and great loss, and so Elsa (like Zelda did IC), was unable to save her kingdom from The Great Calamity, losing everyone she cared about in the process. Including her beloved sister Anna.

And on the verge of losing Jack too, her desire to protect him—her Love—finally awakens the dormant power inside of her. To save his life, she places him in the Shrine of Resurrection while she goes to face the calamity alone… and would go on to contain it for the next 100 years.

However, she continues to hold on to hope that The Chosen Hero, her Appointed Knight, will Rise again one day, and finish what they started.

[darkcircles4lyfe]

To Build Something Else

Whenever I read a fanfiction that takes place in the future where the hero kids continue their schooling as normal and emerge as pro heroes into the existing system, I always kinda view it as like, “AU where things weren’t as bad” or “AU where everyone is still pretending that this is the way things should be” or “AU where good and evil are morally uncomplicated.” I’m not trying to call anybody out—I’ll still read and enjoy these sometimes—but that’s how I’ve always looked at it. I’m starting to notice other people feeling it too. I’ve read fics where they point out how redundant and unfair it is to go back to being students after saving the world (remember how many pros straight up quit and left a bunch of kids to keep fighting?). I’ve seen people acknowledge how trauma will affect their ability to keep going. Perhaps the trickiest thing to wrap our heads around is how the villains will fit into it all if not through death, punishment, or imprisonment. What about all the other trappings of society? The heavily regulated quirk use, the government-funded pros aiding police control and contributing to cover-ups that maintain the illusion of peace. Hero idolization, quirk counseling, civilian helplessness. Judging a person’s worth or character based on their quirk…

It would sound too obvious and cheesy to simply point out that society isn’t “just the way things are,” that change is possible. We all know this, and yet we struggle to pinpoint exactly where to aim our sights, find the source, make any meaningful progress. The other day I read some articles from my university’s student newspaper around 1970, and it made me feel sick wondering if progress is really an illusion. Fact is, it’s easy to intellectually deconstruct society, but very difficult to imagine how to build something else.

In this fictional world, heroes have offered a mythical vision of safety and triumph. When All Might arrived, everything was going to be okay. But let’s not forget how this story began: with a moment where All Might paused, like a bystander, and in his place, a desperate civilian kid hurtled forward without any common sense. If you ask me, it wasn’t that Izuku was so good and pure and selfless, it was that he disregarded everything.

And so the person who “saves the world” (if we can even reduce it to such a concept) is not the person who puts everyone at ease and makes crowds cheer. It’s the person who makes everyone hold their breath, with a feeling in the air like the pressure changed, and it smells like rain. It is natural to be worried about the future. It’s honest. It means you can see what’s really going on. Hero society has never felt this exposed, but the people are held back from the edge of despair because there is also so much potential brewing. Electricity about to strike. The world will NOT go back to the way it was, no matter what. That much is certain. But what if we still live to see the dawn? What then? What if one person’s courage to break the mold makes all the difference?

I’m not just talking about Izuku, you know. I’m talking about Horikoshi.

To an extent, I’ve given up on predicting how exactly things will play out, because if nothing else, I can tell he’s planning something big—so big, I can’t quite picture it. I’m watching and waiting for the one person who can. I just know where he’s coming from. I think about how he’s never come this far before because his other stories were snuffed out. I know he used to struggle to see the future of his career. I relate to his stubbornly rebellious resolve to do what he wants anyway. To keep dreaming. I know that emotional sincerity is his specialty. And now he’s even directly breaking the fourth wall, having characters talk about what’s supposed to happen in comic books. Gradually, almost imperceptibly at first, we’ve been shown how something else can happen. He’s not done yet.

[thelightsandtheroses]

6. baby, if your love is in trouble

Frankie Morales x female reader | let's get lost chapter 6

Summary: You and Frankie aren’t together anymore but you’re in a good place. However, spending a week together for your mutual friends’ wedding on a luxury resort might challenge that slightly and realising you’re still in love with your ex is a sure-fire recipe for disaster … Tropes: it was always you, getting back with the ex, beach!Frankie (you know *that* photoshoot) miscommunication, only one bed, good parent Frankie Chapter Warnings: 18+ MDNI, mentions of alcohol, some difficult conversations and some kissing(you’ll have to keep reading to know which order that is), allusions to TF canon events, brief discussions or references to addiction recovery, lolabee typical flangst. Word Count: 4.4k Notes: The next chapter is the last full one (there may be an epilogue) so we are very close to the end now. Thank you so much for all your patience and love with this fic, I cannot tell you how much it means to me. Also this chapter is dedicated to @undercoverpena because her art for this fic (and our chat about it afterwards) really reminded me why I love this fic and helped get me out of a little block I had, even if she made me cry (in a good way, honest) - ily jo!

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Time is strange on vacation. The time leading up to it drags, every second feels like an hour, every hour feels like a day. It’s exhausting and draining which only makes you need the break more. Time seems to pass normally - well, almost normally - at the start of a vacation. It's usually somewhere around day two, when the post travel fatigue finally abates, that time changes again. It goes too fast, so just as you finally start to feel relaxed, it’s almost over.

You know the end is coming. Soon Benny and Lia’s wedding will be over, soon you’ll be on a flight home and then you and Frankie will go your separate ways. Back to an empty house that’s haunted by what could have been, to a job that you don’t know if you love, to a life you feel like is existence when it could be so much more.

You don’t want to leave here, not when you and Frankie feel so unresolved.

There are memories of the day before in every inch of this hotel room. The bed that Frankie took you apart so expertly on, the bathroom counter he kissed you against in a way that makes kissing feel like a small world. You remember it was good before, but not like that.

Love.

You still love Frankie. It’s not an easy epiphany; it’s messy and painful and raw. That’s love though. It’s a dangerous yet fragile emotion.

You love Frankie. Did you ever truly stop? When you hated him, when you were furious and your relationship was nothing but scorched earth, it was always more from heartbreak than hatred.

There’s part of you that wants to scream triumphantly, to run into his arms and declare it to the world. It wants to live in this vacation bubble fantasy forever.

You’re a parent though and Clara changes everything. You both need her to have stability in her world, to be able to have her parents as a strong foundation. You’re sensible and scarred and oh so reliable now.

Love isn’t pragmatic, it’s wild.

This morning you questioned if it was enough, if the love could be enough between the two of you to repair those wounds and fill between the holes of your breakup, of Will’s wedding, of the lost trust and bitterness on every side.

“You look serious,” Lia says, a nervous expression covering her face as she sips her drink.

You blink, shaking your head like it can shake away the gremlins in your mind. “Sorry, I was a million miles away.”

The sun warms your skin as you look out at the bright blue around you. Sparking, azure contrasts with the bright white of the catamaran. There’s music playing softly by the bar, light chatter around you and a sense of peacefulness.

“How are you feeling? Are you ready for tomorrow?” you ask, focusing on Lia - definitely not Frankie.

No, you’re definitely not paying attention to Frankie who is just in your eyeline and is wearing a suitably loud shirt that’s completely unbuttoned, allowing a peek of his tanned skin, the faint hints of hair below his navel racing down to -

You jolt at the sudden reminder of what you were doing just a couple of hours ago. The feeling of his skin against yours, the weight of his body that was so welcome. He looks relaxed though, a bottle of soda in his hand, head tilted back as he laughs.

Is it just you who’s panicking? No, no, you don’t think it is. You notice how he looks away just for a moment, the way his free hand is tapping against his leg nervously, the feeling that if you look away maybe he’ll steal a glance at you too.

You hear your name and look back at Lia, even more guilt rising. This, this is exactly what you wanted to avoid.

“Did you and Frankie have an argument?”

“What?”

“Well, you seem out of it and I caught you looking at him just now and … I thought things were better?” You hear the unspoken words ‘please don’t ruin this, please don’t ruin my wedding too’.

“We’re fine,” you say, “Good. It’s all good.”

“I know it must be awkward sharing with him, but you’ve nearly made it through the whole break!”

“Honestly, Lia, we’re fine. Good. Yeah, it’s not a thing.”

“I just - I’m very intuitive, I can feel tension when you two look at each other.” It’s the other type of tension, you think. The type of tension when just a few hours ago he was inside of you, where he was tracing kisses along your jawline. It’s the type of tension that only happens when after that you panic and make everything worse.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Frankie and I are -”

“Fine?” Lia squeezes your arm. “Just, just don’t let it fester.”

You want to tell her everything, you desperately crave her advice. You want to sip a cocktail and giggle with her about what happened, have her console your panic. This vacation isn’t about you though. It’s for her, for her and Benny. So your anxieties and secrets will have to fester, it’s the only way.

“What the fuck is going on?”

“Nothing … relax Santi.”

“I’m not fucking relaxed when …” Santi says something you can’t hear. You shift nervously, aware that you’ve walked into something you shouldn’t be hearing. You just needed a break for a moment and you had no idea they were here though. You just wanted to get another drink.

“I was there, I remember.”

“Just, she’s not gonna ….” You need to get closer so you can hear more.

You edge just a little closer, feeling the condensation around the soda bottle as you lean just a little more so you can make out their words. You feel guilty but it’s a chance to finally understand where Frankie is in all this, especially after what’s happened today. It’s probably wrong to admit, but this feels like a litmus test of where this all could possibly end up, if there really is hope.

“She’s the mother of my child, Santi, she’s the person I love.” Frankie is so firm, so quietly assertive and matter of fact about this it takes your breath away.

He loves you. He still loves you and for the first time, maybe it does feel like enough. The warmth surges through your body and you smile to yourself.

“Love?” Santi spits. “After Will’s wedding? After that breakup? You might forget it was my sofa you crashed on, but I saw it all, Frankie.” And there’s the reality crush you were waiting for.

“I was high, I was high and it was a shit night for everyone and I’m sorry about that. It’s the past though. You’ve all gotta stop talking about it, stop waiting for her to react. It’s not right, Santi, not for her and not for me.”

“It’s not you, it’s-”

“She’s on eggshells, and so am I. We’re so scared of being the ones who wreck another - you have no idea what’s in her head. The pressure -” You watch how Frankie runs a hand through his hair, how he leans against the wall of the cabin.

He gets it, you think, he actually understands what’s happening for you and how you feel.

“Must be a lot for you.”

“Not just me, like I said.”

“Okay, I hear you.”

“Good.”

“You know, the way you’re being, it’s like you’re …” Santi pauses and looks at Frankie seriously “Frankie, oh shit. Oh shit. You two fucked?”

You freeze - how has Santi worked it out? Will everyone else now? The tension twists your stomach into knots. Is it that obvious?

“Don’t, Santi.”

“I warned you, I freaking told you that sharing a room was a bad idea.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever..”

“So, what now? Are you getting back together?”

“I don’t know. It’s not just up to me, right? It’s not that simple. Besides, it only happened today - it’s not been, we haven’t even had a chance to figure it out yet.“

“Oh, you slut, Frankie,” Santi teases affectionately. “So, I don’t even know what to say, bro. But you say you love her; she looks at you like … I don’t know. Sounds like you’re overcomplicating it. Isn’t it that simple?”

“There’s Clara - I can’t bring her down, bro, I just can’t be that fucking guy.” You watch as Frankie wipes his eyes roughly and wish you were closer to him so you could squeeze his arm and reassure him. You hadn’t realised he was worried about the same thing as you.

You hear your name being called and immediately cringe as Frankie looks around, a slightly startled expression on his face. Santi doesn’t say anything but he squeezes Frankie’s shoulders as he walks away.

He sees you standing there and just shakes his head a little - it’s not angry, it’s almost affectionate in fact. “You two are gonna be the fucking death of me, I swear,” he says in a whisper.

You don’t reply, you just wait because you know Frankie’s going to find you in a moment..

“How much of that did you hear?” Frankie asks when he spots you. He runs one hand in his hair and leans slightly against the door jamb. His eyes are downcast, avoiding you and you want to see them, to know what he’s thinking.

“Nothing.” It’s a terrible lie, the sort of tone Clara uses when she sneaks cookies or candy.

He says your name, draws it out teasingly as he cups your face to meet his eyes. He’s so warm, radiating body heat and ease. Comfort. It’s a pleasant warmth that eases your knotted stomach.

“I may have heard something about you being a slut,” you tease,” “And that maybe you’re worried about messing it all up too.”

“You didn’t know that?”

“I have been having my own existential crisis if you hadn’t noticed!”

“Yeah, your brain whirs pretty loud when those happen.”

“I’m always whirring,” you say.

He pulls you closer, one hand resting casually on your hip and he’s close enough you can smell the sea-salt on his skin, the slight ghost of his cologne and suncream too. You look at the hand on your skin, follow every detail of it up until you meet you his eyes. You catalogue every detail on the way; a mix of freckles, sun-stained skin and muscle, the stubble that just hours ago was on you, memories of it against your thighs intrude your soliloquy.

”I - I didn’t mean to make things awkward with you and Santi. I didn’t realise he … he had such a problem, with us, I mean. With me.”

“He doesn’t. Not really,” Frankie says softly, “How would Lia initially react? Santi is the one I went to after we broke up and maybe - maybe it’s hard for him to look at some of the triggers for back then. It’s not an excuse, I was - you know I relapsed before Clara, but it wasn’t bad then, it wasn’t as bad. It was just a few times and I was in meetings and dealing with it and then - then well, you remember what happened.”

“Oh.” You remember Frankie’s ashen face when he returned from Colombia. You’d been furious with him - exhausted from sleepless nights with Clara and an aching, terrifying fear that you were going about your life when Frankie was lying dead somewhere. It had been a catalyst for your relationships end, of course, but what it really did was light a spark for Frankie’s addiction. You wondered for a long time if Frankie ever came back to you or if he’d died like Tom, just in a less invisible way.

He’s back now though. He’s here.

He’s here.

You lean into him, kissing him lightly on the lips. A confirmation of the moment, of the feeling between the two of you. A reminder that you’re here too.

“I love you too,” you whisper.

“You heard that? I - if you want the truth, I never stopped. I’m not sure I could ever stop being in love with you,” Frankie admits.

“I’m scared of this, of what happens if it goes wrong again.”

“Then at least we tried, right? At least we know, because this limbo isn’t right either, baby. I think - I think we can do it this time. I’m clean and I don’t want to go to back, not when it risks Clara, not when it risks you. I don’t like the me back then.”

“I definitely got a lot wrong too.”

“We’ve got this.”

Frankie pulls you tightly against him, one hand entwined in yours as meets your lips again briefly.

“You and me?” you say, more as a question than a statement.

“You and me,” he repeats.

“We tell them after the wedding, we’re not taking over another wedding, Frankie.”

“That works for me.”

He kisses you again, deepening the kiss, as the two of you pour all the words you want to say but that get stuck in your throat into this moment. He spins you against the wall of the boat, moves his hand down from your shoulder to your chest, to the edge of your swimsuit and although he’s barely touching you, it immediately sends heat and shivers to your stomach. Frankie’s always had an effect on you, always been able to tease those sounds and crescendos of pleasure that seemed so far away before.

There’s something about his smile when he notices the effect he has on you. The hint of surprise in his eyes combine with a steely confidence, a slight cockiness that he is the one causing this, that you’re responding to him.

He moans into your mouth as you pull him closer against you yet, wanting to move somewhere else, somewhere you can be alone.

You stumble slightly and Frankie grabs your arm, places the other on the wall to steady yourselves. A tangle of limbs and the two of you smile. His phone falls out of his pocket, the sound echoing around you.

“Shit,” he says quietly.

You both spring apart and look around nervously. Close, so close. You wait for the voices, for one of your friends to call you or worse, to come over.

“We should -”

“Yeah, yeah. Uh - we should.”

You lean back against the wall and shut your eyes, willing your heart rate to slow down, letting the adrenaline burn off.

She’s the person I love.

Maybe, just maybe you were wrong earlier. Perhaps love is enough.

The rehearsal dinner is an informal affair. Lia and Benny deliberately opted for an earlier dinner time so that Clara could be part of it and have already said they’re eschewing as much of the formality for the rehearsal as they can.

It’s considerate and thoughtful and you’re so glad you’ve been able to make this wedding trip work as a family vacation too.

Of course, in practice, scheduling the dinner for just a couple of hours after getting back from the boat trip is far more stressful than they may have anticipated. Especially with a toddler.

“I wanted to stay in kids club,” she cries to Frankie, face screwed up with tears and arms folded.

“I know, baby, but you’ll get to go after the wedding.”

“Tomorrow?”

“No, tomorrow’s Uncle Benny and Aunt Lia’s wedding.”

“This isn’t fair,” she cries, “we were making puppets!”

Frankie looks up at you helplessly. You’re half-dressed, your dress unzipped and no-makeup yet, your hair still damp from the shower.

“Clara, we need to get ready for dinner now,” he says steadily.

“Daddy’s right, Clara, it’s time.”

“No.”

“Clara,” Frankie says, a hint of firmness slowly coming through in his voice. He looks exhausted but he’s meeting your daughter’s eyes, trying to gently assert that she needs to get moving. “It’s time to get ready now. You will get to go to the kids’ club again, but not right now. Now, we’re going to dinner and when we get back, you can watch one episode of your show before bed, okay?”

”Okay.” Clara had clearly forgotten she’d already negotiated that episode of her show earlier in the morning.

Frankie smiles at you as Clara toddles over to you, ready to comply.

“Need a hand?” he asks, pointing at the zip.

“Sure.”

Your eyes watch Clara carefully choosing between two pairs of shoes as Frankie comes up behind you, touches the back of your shoulder before he glides the zip up and gently kisses the side of your neck.

“Frankie.”

“She’s not looking,” he says in a low voice, “and that fucking dress always destroys me.”

You smile, “I know.”

“Why, are you planning to seduce me?”

”Maybe, haven’t decided yet. Play your cards right and perhaps you’ll see….”

Frankie laughs, low and with genuine happiness. He claps his hands together lightly as he moves over to Clara.

”C’mon, princesa, let’s get this show on the road.”

The dinner was a success and now everyone is milling around the bar, enjoying the sunset and each fleeting moment of this vacation.

Clara's on Frankie's hip as he talks to Will and Benny, one of his arms on Benny's shoulder as they all laugh.

You could get used to this again.

You're still at the table, having spent most of the dinner talking with Lia who is now working the rest of the party.

You take a sip of the dregs of your drink and shut your eyes, letting the moment sink in.

There's the sound of a chair being pulled next to you.

You open your eyes to see Sophie sititng next to you. She's wearing a stunning dress that seems to match the sunset and her makeup is immaculate as ever. You don't feel self conscious though, don't feel the usually creeping doubts rising.

You feel a little different actually. Maybe it's relaxing, maybe it's the vacation, maybe it's hope.

Sophie looks at you carefully and lowers her wine glass. “I know you are a good friend to Lia and that you care about Benny.”

“Of course.”

She leans closer to you, a subtle hint of alcohol and fruity cocktails radiating around her. “I also know that despite what you say, you and Frankie - you aren’t over. You still want to be with him. Everyone knows he’s not over you. I’ve seen your face this week.”

“What are you saying Soph?”

“If you two want to figure things out, to see if there’s something still there, then you guys do that. You’re both adults.”

“I’m sensing a but here.”

“I love you both. I do. It’s just you and Frankie are like storms. You’re beautiful and powerful and sometimes a little inspiring too. You endure and you survive, but you leave wreckage in your wake. Wreckage and destruction no-one wants on their wedding day. Trust me. I lived it with you that day.”

You burn with shame as her words land. The memories of Sophie and Will’s wedding feel like an albatross around your neck, something that can never be forgotten or erased.

You’re sick of it - it makes you think your friends will never truly support you and Frankie reconciling, despite Sophia’s words. If they’ll always be watching, guarded and waiting for the chaos or storm, then how can you and Frankie ever relax.

“What are you saying?” you ask in a low voice.

“I’m saying that this is Benny and Lia’s moment. I’m saying that I can’t - I can’t sit by and watch them go through what I - what we … you know what I’m saying. Not while you and Frankie are in a vacation bubble that isn’t - it isn’t real,”

“Things are different. We’re both different. Frankie’s clean now too.”

“I know, and I can’t pretend I know how it felt for you that day, or the ones that led up to it. I know you’ve been through a lot too. I just - Benny’s like my little brother and I know Will can’t say this to you, but we’re all worried. So, I’m going to be the bad guy, but it’s out of love, I promise. I promise. I love you both so much, and I love Benny and Lia too.”

“It wouldn’t be like that. It wouldn’t - that was a - we hit rock bottom, but it wouldn’t happen again.”

“You can’t know that,” Sophie says simply, “So I am begging you, please don’t pull us all back into that storm. Think of Clara.”

The final punch meets its target.

You feel deflated, completely and utterly deflated. You avert your gaze to the paved stones beneath your feet, blink back tears.

In a way, Sophie’s right. You can never know it won’t happen again, that’s love though, right? You have known for years that they saw you and Frankie’s demise as wreckage they were pulled into, that you two became the problem friends as you both lashed out after the breakup, trying to retain control of the uncontrollable in the only way you knew how. You knew this deep down.

It hurts though. It is agonising to realise that every one of your anxieties and fears here was correct, that your friends still treat you with kid gloves, that you and Frankie will always be the problem couple. Even if you get back together, even if it’s perfect, everyone will be waiting for the storm to hit.

“Oh no, I’ve overstepped, I’m sorry. I - I - I’ve drunk too much. Ignore me. Wine makes me funky,” Sophie says, looking panicked.

If it’s a fight, if love is truly a battle, then you need people in your corner. You need to know that the people you love are rooting for you as well, that there is a support network. You require someone to encourage the two of you as things get tough, as you do battle against your anxieties, Frankie’s demons and anything else life throws at you and to know they won’t judge either of you.

It’s clear now that your friends are not in your corner though. Instead, they view you and Frankie as adversaries, not allies, and they’re always waiting cautiously for the next round of hits to land.

How do you try again if no one else really wants you to? If they all think the worst?

You ruined Sophie’s wedding. What on earth makes you think you deserve a happy ending with Frankie after that?

You needed Sophi’s buy-in, you needed her support. You hadn’t realised that until now, but it’s clear. You knew it the moment Sophie started speaking to you. There’s an anxious and scared version of you that requires your friends’ validation, their support that trying all over again is a good thing, that it won’t fuck up your daughter, or your friendships all over again.

Without this, you’re at sea without a buoy, without a lighthouse. You’re floundering in the dark in a lifejacket and rapidly realising hope alone won’t get you to land.

“I need to go,” you say, brushing Sophie’s hand of your arm and heading down towards the beach.

You walk across the sand nervously. You’re hoping the sea will have answers, will calm you down. The sound of waves lapping in and out is like someone soothing you, saying it’s going to be okay.

You sit down rest your head against your knees. You just need a minute, to let it out.

So you do, you finally let yourself break.

Several minutes later, you hear footsteps behind you and a concerned voice saying your name,

You look over to see Frankie. His top three buttons are unbuttoned and his brow is furrowed as he takes in your general demeanour.

“Where’s Clara?” you sniffle.

“Lia’s taking her back to our room, and we’ll meet her there. She also said she needs an early night with the wedding tomorrow. Hey, hey what’s - what’s wrong?”

“I think we’ve made a terrible mistake, Frankie, I’m so sorry,” you manage to say before you burst into tears. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

Frankie pales, sinking next to you. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t think any of our friends want us to get back together - how can they all be wrong?”

“Santi isn’t all our friends. I told you he’s projecting his own shit.”

“It’s not just Santi!”

“Who said something? What the fuck did they say? This is our relationship, okay? It’s not theirs. They don’t have a say.”

“When we ruined their wedding, they do.”

“So, it’s Will or Sophie. What did they say? I’m going to fucking -”

“And storm into the rehearsal dinner and prove their point, yell at Sophie? Cause a scene and have tonight go down as yet another of our disasters?”

“You’re crying. Sophie had no right to -”

“I’ve had wine, it’s fine. It’s just hot and I’m worried about going home and - I’m fine. It’s fine.”

“It’s not.”

“It’s a reality check. I hadn’t realised. I thought they’d be happy for us, but perhaps they can’t be.”

“They’ll see,” he says desperately, “we’ll show them it’s real. That it’s different this time.”

“Frankie, I need to know, what happens when we go back?” you ask.

He sits down beside you and takes your hand. “I want to say something smooth, talk you through how I’m going to woo you, and I am going to woo you, tell you that it’s all going to be great.”

“Good start.”

“I can’t promise that though, not right now. Not knowing what you’ve just said. I want to think our friends will be happy for us, but they might not be. Or they might be cautious. It’s us though, it’s you and me. I know that this vacation has reminded me of how much I lost, how much I want every day back with you and Clara.”

“If our friends aren’t supporting us, how do we even carry on? What do we do? Do we cut everyone we love -”

“No.”

“So what then, Frankie?” You barely recognise your voice between your sobs and the way it’s so shrill, so desperate. You had finally made peace with your decision, finally thought that maybe this was all going to be okay. That there was a future outside of this vacation bubble.

Frankie is silent for a moment. You feel how he’s rubbing your back, soothing you as you purge your emotions.

“You forgave me, right?” he says softly after a moment.

“What?”

“For the relapse, for the mess I put us all through, for not talking to you. It took time, it took months, but you did, right?”

You nod.

“Maybe it’s like that for them. And if it’s not, we’ll show ‘em either way. I just - I’ve only just got you back. Please, don’t go anywhere yet. We won’t tell them, not until we’re home, until we’re sure. That way it can’t affect us, can’t bring us down when we’re trying. Don’t give up on us because of Sophie’s drunken idiocy. Please.” He pulls you tighter to him, one arm wrapped around and the other hand reaching to wipe away tears on the side closest to him. His hands are warm, radiating comfort and peace as you feel so adrift.

Maybe he’s the rock, maybe he’s the buoy. Perhaps that is what you are to each other as well?

You laugh, an ugly half-sobbing sound. “Okay, okay, I won’t. I promise.”

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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Fic masterlist | Masterlist

SUCROSE

Paring: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Spencer gets courage to tell what he truly feels (They live in the same building, in the same corridor, just in front of one another… which helps the friendship but couldn't stop Dr. Reid from falling in love)

Word account: 1271

Warnings: Fluff, friends to lovers, anxiety, 

A/N: English is not my first language. Reblog, like, and comment. I am accepting suggestions for the next parts. Please be nice. The Gif is not mine. Credits to the oner

Chapter 4: Declaration

Spencer’s Point of View

As soon as we are back to the job, it seems that the only thing people know to talk about is her.

I am glad they liked her. It is a good thing. But I can't help that little jealousy lingering in my stomach.

One of the things that makes everything worse is the fact that right now, I am in the jet with the team, going for a case away from her, away from my most sweet Sugar, that I daydream about actually tasting.

“So, that girl… she is marriage material.”

“Rossi is the one to know. He has ben married so many times”

Morgan chuckles at his own joke.

“Which makes me an expert, I recognize marriage material when I see it. And that girl…”

“Rossi is right, she is the type to commit.”

Why is Hotch interfering? He usually separates personal involvement and work place.

“Can we stop talking about it?”

“Reid, if you don’t step on, make a move… you may lose the chance. A woman does not wait forever.”

“Why is everybody getting so involved in my personal life?”

“Because you don’t have much of a personal life.”

“I have so much not one of you knew about her until I introduced her and she has been my friend for years.”

“Do you want to be her friend, or do you wish to be more?”

“If you feel insecure, just let me remind this genius brain that she proudly said you are friends and affirmed that she does love you, and that she felt no shame admitting it.”

“It amuse us that you ain’t a couple yet.”

—-----------------------------------

The conversation keeps repeating in my head, and I should take the risk, she deserves to know about my feelings… I don’t want to ruin our friendship… we could be more, I wish to be more… be breve Spencer, she never will be mean to you, there is no reason to be afraid. I will write a letter and hope for the answer.

—-----------------------------------

Dear Sugar

"In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you." - Jane Austen, from "Pride and Prejudice"

As much information as my mind can contain, nothing seems enough to describe my feelings for you. I am aware of your taste for Austin, I even consider receding her books to you but I fear my mouth will betray me, that my feelings will take over and my nerves will stop me from doing what I so much want to.

I will not be able to tell you all the thoughts that run in my imagination when I think of you. You. My Sugar. Not truly mine, but I strongly wish for that to become true.

Sugar, I am yours, I am all yours, body, soul, mind, beliefs… I pray that, if there is a haven for me to be blessed with your presence, because you are my paradise. You are my love. My muse. And so much more

"Love is the poetry of the senses." - Honoré de Balzac

You awakened me, I didn’t know the world could be so cozy, that being alive could be so wonderful, until we met. A rainy day, that a stranger just took under my umbrella. Change all, that simple act, that smile, the bad jokes… the more I know you, the more I want.

You are something I never thought to get in my life, cause I didn’t even know it existed, they don’t talk about it, they don’t write about it, they don’t paint it. They try, as I am doing right now. And we all fail, cause it is impossible to describe. I didn’t believe in the impossible until I met you.

"Love is an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired." - Robert Frost

I wish for you to want me too, for my Sugar to love her Sugarpout. 

I may not have much to offer you, but I offer all I have, I give you all I have. I donate all my being for you.

"Love is that condition in which the happiness of another person is essential to your own." - Robert A. Heinlein

I wish for you to be happy, even if I am not your happiness.

I would never interfere with your well being, all I wish is the best for you.

I love you.

Love you so much.

If you ask, I am out of your life, even if that is not what I want.

As much as I want for you to be mine as I am yours.

What I truly, dearly and onest want and wish for is for your safety and happiness.

"Love is not just a feeling; it is a calling, a force that can transform and redeem even the most broken of souls. It is the fire that burns within us, the light that guides us through the darkest of nights. Love is the eternal thread that weaves together the tapestry of our existence." - Fyodor Dostoevsky, from "The Brothers Karamazov"

Infinity yours, Sugarpout.

"Love is the joy of the good, the wonder of the wise, the amazement of the gods." - Plato

—------------------------------

I sent the letter to her, and my heart sinks in my chest, anxiety runs to all my cells. The air seems not to get to my lungs, I can only imagine her.

Hope for a positive answer.

Hope she understands my feelings.

Hope she won't leave me.

—------------------------------------

Y/N’s Point of view

My eyes couldn’t believe it.

My heart skipped beats,and then it has never beaten faster.

It is a love letter.

Sugarpout wrote me a lover letter.

I am excited, happy… there are so many emotion.

I am knocking at his door. And I can not restrain myself, just using my key and open it, searching for my love.

As soon as my eyes land on him, is like if the sun is kissing me. I hold his letter in one hand, and my letter in the other.

He is looking at me, expectant, anxious.

I rise my piece of paper, that contain just a phrase, well… two phrases.

—------------------------------

I LOVE YOU

Ps: Yes, I want to be your girlfriend.

—------------------------------

He is also smiling, looking my letter that practically covers my face, with a gentle touch he takes the paper from my hands.

“I know I could have written something better, but after… I was just so anxious. I love you Spencer Walter Reid. I love you Sugarpout. My Sugarpout”

“I love you. Deep. Infinity. Just as gravity binds celestial bodies together, love intertwines souls in an invisible cosmic dance. And I hope to dance with you in the infinity and beyond that"

“May I touch you?”

“Yes.” Hands on my back, as I hug him back, letting my hand touch his soft hair. “May I kiss you?”

“Yes.”

His lips find mine.

It is as if life itself had touched me for the first time. Like the gentle brush of a bee against a flower, a love kiss, the delicate touch of life awakening. The electric current surges through our veins, igniting our souls with a spark of divine connection. In that fleeting moment, lips meet, and the universe holds its breath, as if time itself bows to the sacredness of this intimate union. It is the whisper of eternity, the language of the heart, speaking volumes in a single embrace. A love kiss, like the touch of life, breathes vitality into our existence, reminding us that in the realm of love, we are truly alive.

--------------------------

A/N: This is the end of my first fic. Hope you enjoyed reading it. Maybe I will do more fics... let's see what happens.

---------------------------------------------------------

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 Fic masterlist | Masterlist

Tag List: @mikitsuki

[frenchbreadandeggs]

The Other Variant of Her

pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Reader

summary: Out of nowhere, Gwen Stacy appeared on your Earth, inviting you to the Spider Society in Nueva York. As you reluctantly took her offer, you were shown the beauty of every spider person around HQ. Meeting the founder of the group, Miguel O’Hara. You never knew him, but it seems that he does.

gn!reader, also a spider person

cw. angst, soon.

After I watched ATSV, saw Miguel, I was like—why not make it more sadder? Also made this while I'm fucking writing a travel log for our project, action paper, and capstone. I SWEAR my obsession on writing fanfictions never ends. Gotta go so I can study for finals and defense this week. This was supposed to be a full fic and not by chapters but oh well ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

“Shit!”

You dodge at a car that was thrown in your way, quickly swinging yourself using your web towards a building to land on. As usual you do your superhero things around Kings, York New, beating up villains and chasing down thieves and criminals. But you sure do that this Doctor Octopus you’re fighting isn’t yours, you felt like it was not the doctor that kept chasing you down.

“Come back here you—!” he somehow glitched, a series of colors switched with his body for a split second before Doc Ock shrieked as the grip of his talons of his mechanical tentacles loosened on the blue brick walls, his body now falling.

Quickly, you shot a web on his chest, shooting another one to hold yourself from sliding towards the end of the building as you tried to pull Doc Ock. When he reached the top of the building, you grabbed him by the collar and dragged him on the concrete floor. Not wanting to risk him to go rampage again and destroy half of the city, you wrapped him up with webs, securing his mechanical tentacles on the wall.

He grunted, still recovering from his unusual glitching. You’re going to ask Doctor Strange about this later.

As you were going to bring Doc Ock to the wizard, a person stood in your way—or more like jumped out of nowhere and blocked your way. They wore a white spider suit with pink and black accents.

“Woah,” startled, you backed up, covering the still recovering Doc Ock, “I didn’t know there’s a comic con today—”

You were stopped by a strange tingling at the back of your head, you have spider senses, but this was different.

“Wha—don’t tell me you’re?”

“Holy—you look so cool!”

“What—”

“I’m Gwen Stacy, you are?” she reached her hand towards you after she took her mask off. Blonde short hair with pink dip-dye, the side of her head was shaved, blue eyes and eyebrow piercing. She seemed harmless even though you are still skeptical, but your guts said she is not a problem—and your gut is always right.

“SpiderSlinger.” you introduced yourself, taking Gwen’s hand and shaking it.

“So,” you started, “This is not a joke alright? Is there any cosplay going on somewhere here?”

She snorted, like what you said made no sense to her.

“No, I’m from another universe—I take care of anomalies like that Doc Ock you have there.” she pointed at your back, you looked back to see Doc Ock glitching.

You were not closed about the multiverse existing as Doctor Strange has already mentioned this to you. Though you did not expect for a person outside your universe to come and visit—let alone take care of a person who is not supposed to be in your world.

You looked at her, tilting your head at the side as you grabbed Doc Ock using your web shooter and slung him on your shoulders, unbothered by his weight. Lifts were helpful for you, “By yourself?”

Not too long you tagged along with Gwen, she has explained to you that she is in an elite group called Spider Society where they keep the multiverse from any threats and prevent it from collapsing. Very ambitious you think, the size of the multiverse was incomparable to your thoughts, knowing it is larger than what some people might think. On your way to HQ Gwen mentioned to you, she received a call from someone who’s named ‘Jessica Drew’. You minded your own business when Gwen started to respond to her watch with hushed words, you might have guessed that they were arguing. Gwen sounded pleading all of a sudden.

“Are you sure I’m allowed to go with you?” you asked her after she ended her call. Gwen nodded at you, her head seems like it is going to fall off her neck if she does not stop.

“Absolutely, I already notified them that you’re coming with me.” she handed you a blue wristband, “Here, to keep you from glitching.”

You took the wristband from her and wore it, “Thanks…?”

You have not experienced the ‘glitching’ she was telling you, so it might’ve been like Doc Ock’s situation earlier. Gwen tapped on her watch before a portal appeared in front of you. Your eyes widened in amazement, multiple neon-orange hexagons stood up from the dark but sparkling void—some looked like singular strands of web stretched across the portal, forming in some kind of path to who Spiderperson knows where.

“You got to do this?” Doc Ock still hanging on your shoulder, you pointed at the portal that was formed by Gwen’s watch.

Gwen laughed, smiling at you, not realizing she was showing her gap teeth, “Yeah, all the time.”

“Sick,” you said, still gaped at the portal, “should I…?” you looked at the Doc Ock on your shoulder then to Gwen.

“Oh, yeah definitely.”

With a lift, you pushed Doc Ock inside the portal, his unconscious body sucked into the portal’s abyss. Gwen then looked at you with a reassuring nod and went into the portal, following Doc Ock. You stared at the portal for a while, the city is fine for now since there were no attacks other than Ock—though you were unsure if this was the right idea.

You bit your lip.

“Fuck it she already announced my arrival, might as well go in now.”

Biting back the hesitation of not going in, you leaped into the portal leaving your worries for your city and jumped into the unknown.

You were thrown on the floor face flat on the smooth pavement, you grunted, muffling ‘I’m fine’ even though you know no one would care less. Surprisingly a hand grabbed your wrist and pulled you up to your feet.

“Thanks,” you said, patting the dust off your spider suit. You looked at the scenery around you.

And holy shit you could not believe your eyes at what you are looking at right now. Buildings were everywhere and each building had a bridge attached and led to another building. There were multiple pillars sticking out and attached on each building. That did not amazed you though, it was the massive fucking spiderpeople lounging at the area you are right now.

Not even a hundred were here. It might be thousands of different spider people and you’re one of them. You stared, still in shock at how much spider people are with you here. Taking a hold of Gwen, you gripped both of her shoulders and shook her.

“This is amazing…” you grinned at her, she mirrored yours.

Suddenly, you felt like you were forgetting someone.

Realization hits you, with high alert you asked Gwen, “Where’s Doc Ock?”

“I took care of him,” she placed a hand on your shoulder, giving you a reassuring look.

“Ok,” you took a relaxed exhale, “Well what you showed me was super amazing—very fucking cool—now I want to join—well if that is fine, it looks like y’all won’t be having understaffing for a long time though.”

“Oh—dang, then you should meet Mi—”

“Ooo who’s the newbie here Gwen?”

A distinct voice captured your attention, looking at your back you saw two spider people walking towards you and Gwen.

Pavitr Prabhakar and Hobie Browe were their names given to you in exchange for your Spider name. They were fun to be with, Hobie and Pavitr's shenanigans immediately started right after they met you. You met other spider people, them greeting you back gave you a tingling feeling inside you—maybe it's the fact that they are cool and decided to notice you.

Not for too long Pav said his goodbyes and went back to his Earth while Hobie tagged along when Gwen is guiding you to this ‘Miguel O’Hara’ person. She told you that he was the founder of Spider Society and may or may not have severe anger issues.

“The guy has FANGS?” you looked at Gwen with disbelief.

“Yup, heard that it paralyzes anyone he bites with it—with venom I suppose—obviously.”

She then turns at you, “Alright, we’ll be entering his office. I just hope he isn’t pissed off.”

“He is alway pissed, what do you mean?” Hobie interjected.

“You guys are scaring me—should I like—give him something so he won’t do…?” you wiggled your fingers, hoping they understand what you mean. Hobie just snorts, Gwen shakes her head and takes a grab of your wrists and pulls you with her.

“No, no need.”

The three of you entered a blue dimmed room. Hobie sat on one of the metal seats, watching the scene slowly unfold in front of him. There was a floating platform just above you and Gwen, both of you stood still. If you squint just a little there are yellow-orange colored monitors, cool, you thought, your world’s technology was below this Nueva York’s tech. There on the platform was a man’s back, broad shoulders and messy hair.

You are a patient person, but the platform was painfully slow.

Finally, the platform reached the floor, he did not turn around or anything but continued working on his devices.

“So this is the spider person you are talking about, Gwen?” he spoke with a husky voice. His attention was still on the screens, dragging his fingers on them as he spoke with Gwen.

“Yeah, they’re from Earth-14215. When I came there, they already took care of the anomaly.”

With a blink he was already in front of you, his body looming over you like a vulture. If you were not intimidated by him, you would admire the structure of his face—everything about him. 

His eyes rounded on you, inspecting you like you were prey. There was something bugging you, he felt…something that you could not comprehend.

His intense stare at you made you feel like you needed to remove your mask, so you did. Your hair looked perfectly fine even though you wore a tight mask. Looking at him with a toothy grin, “Hi, nice to meet you.”

At a moment you saw a glimpse of Miguel’s face in shock before turning his back at you. Did you scare him? Or maybe disappoint him? You sure hope not. You watched him walking back to his monitor, he called for someone named Lyla, in which in response a yellow woman appeared in thin air. He spoke to her, though you could not hear them talking.

Not knowing what to do, you turned to Gwen in which she just shrugged—not expecting the lack of emotion from Miguel. You walked towards Hobie and sat next to him, still amazed at him and all of those inconsistent art he has, he did tell you he does not believe in consistency.

You and Hobie started talking to each other, Gwen butting in afterwards. Hobie started talking about the consequence of industrial revolution, him not liking the prime minister—whom you do not know, another consequence about capitalism and it went on and on.

“Hey,” Miguel called, the three of you looking at him at the same time, “No—no the new one.”

You stood up and walked towards him, he tossed you something. You caught it, it looks like a watch of some sorts, similar to Gwen and Hobie and the other spider people have.

“That’s a goober—”

“A gizmo.” Lyla interrupted

“Whatever,” he tries to shoo the AI away from him but Lyla glitches to another place away from him, “that gadget gives you the ability to jump to a different universe. That’s it, I’ll give you instructions for your first mission…Welcome to the club.” he stared at you for a while, a kind of longing feeling from him vibed out you just shrugged it.

“Thanks!...Boss?”

He shook his head, then walked away from you, “Don’t call me that, it’s weird.”

“Huh, alright then. I’ll call you Miguel if that is fine with you.”

He did not respond.

Not bothered by his lack of response, you ran back to Gwen and Hobie, waving the ‘goober’ in your hand. Gwen smiled whilst Hobie greeted you ‘welcome to the spidey club’, it was never really your intention to join but it seems that you got in.

You’ll wait for the first mission Miguel will send you.

[mxtxnet]

MXTXNet Valentine's Event

Hello everyone, it’s almost Valentine's Day and since MXTX loves love, we wanted to create an event for the community. Please note, it does not have to mean romantic love!

This event is open to anyone who wants to participate and you can make whatever you want to contribute (gifs, video edits, fics etc)

The event will run for 3 days (Feb 12, 13, and 14) and you can choose from 3 prompts listed for each day: a colour, a one word prompt and/or a scenario prompt. You do not have to use all 3.

Use the tag #mxtxvalentine so we can find & reblog your posts! Have fun and feel free to reply or send an ask with any questions!

Monday, February 12: purple | family | “I hope that if alternate universes exist, it will still be you and me in the end. I hope that there will always be an us. In every world, in every story.” — Tina Tran [x] Tuesday, February 13: pink | yearning | “Life is partly what we make it, and partly what it is made by the friends we choose.” — Tennessee Williams Wednesday, February 14: red | love | “They'd never been lovers, of course, not in the physical sense. But they'd been lovers as most of us manage, loving through expressions and gestures and the palm set softly upon the bruise at the necessary moment. Lovers by inclination rather than by lust. Lovers, that is, by love.” — Gregory Maguire -Under the cut we will have our rules and some palettes to help with inspiration if needed.

If you have any questions, feel free to send us an ask!

Rules:

 All types of content are welcome, whether that be edits, gifs, art, videos, and fanfiction! For fanfiction we only ask that you add the proper tags and that any NSFW piece is put under a read more.  All fics that exceed 500 words should also be listed under a read more.

 You are free to create NSFW content for the event, but do please tag it correctly. We also reserve the right to not reblog every creation according to our sites regular rules.

Have fun! 

[rahuratna]

HI!! I love your reasons on why Nanami speaks to you on a personal level sm!! It’s so interesting because you pointed out a different perspective I’ve never thought about before. The reason why I started liking Nanami was because of his journey of finding a sense of purpose. If I were to drop myself into the JJK verse and had the option to convince Nanami to stay as a sorcerer instead of a salaryman, I wouldn’t. Because then he wouldn’t have known if being a salaryman and, like you mentioned in some of your fics, having a simple and more ordinary lifestyle made him more fulfilled.

Then your insights on identity comes to play: no matter what you choose to do with life, it doesn’t completely define you because we also have to consider the emotions and experiences that make us human. What we never got to see was what Nanami did in his free time and, excluding the value/service he provided for others and the short clips from “Where our blue is”, what memories and experiences that made him happy and loved. That’s also why reading your works is so good and comforting 😭 😭

You also talked about lack of self-preservation which I think makes a lot of sense given the pressures Jujutsu society. For Nanami, I think he feels like there’s barely a choice in what he can do. Both being a salaryman and a jujutsu sorcerer means being “exploited” by the higher ups. As a salaryman, he was “making the rich richer,” and as a sorcerer, he and his peers were being sent out to risk their lives to kill curses instead of the powerful elders doing it themselves (particularly with his best friend’s death). The higher ups in society do not care or value his life because there will always be more sorcerers and salarymen to replace him in terms of the job. THATS WHY I LOVED WHEN YOU POINTED OUT THAT YOUR JOB DOESNT DEFINE YOUR IDENTITY AIDHNSJDNBDKS. I think that’s what might have influenced Nanami to have a lack of self-preservation like you said. Yes because being a sorcerer requires it, but also because the only semblance of meaning that society could provide him was providing value to the innocent and weak which ultimately costed his life.

IT MAKES ME SO SAD BECAUSE HE DESERVES THE MOST AND HES SO MUCH MORE THAN THAT *sob sob*… tysm for all the character analysis you do, it makes me so happy talking about it :) Please add on if you have any more thoughts 🫶 🫶

Firstly, this is what I love about writing fanfic. These conversations with fellow fans who appreciate the same things about the series and characters is just golden to me 💛💛. I'm so, so flattered and glad that my interpretation of Nanami provides these different perspectives and I love hearing your ideas on it too!

So, I really liked Nanami's character to begin with, but there was one particular scene, where he wipes away the tear of the transfigured human, that really made me sit up and take note.

When the show got into his background, I immediately picked up on how much he values others over himself. It ties in with what you said about how there could possibly have been a happier reality for him if he'd simply chosen the path of a 'normal' life. Maybe he could have eventually retired and lived that peaceful existence.

And this is where he truly becomes a tragic figure for me. I feel like the world he lived in would never have allowed that peace. His compassion, desire to protect and serve others and his strong beliefs always shine through. Jujutsu society favours the ruthless, the predators, the ones who can detach and operate without thinking too hard about the cost, like Mei Mei, for example.

Nanami is not an apex predator. He's very strong, but a foot soldier, and one who fully acknowledges his own weaknesses. While his compassion and heart make him a sterling human being, they don't grant him safety, or survival.

To reiterate what I said in my previous post, he does define himself by how well he can serve others. Which is his job.

You also pointed out something really important, which was that Nanami's search for purpose makes him so interesting. I think that the trauma he suffered from the death of his friend, along with possibly the survivor's guilt, is what actually led to him under-valuing himself like this, and also prioritizing the younger sorcerers. He thought so hard about his own purpose, but was also so blind to his own value as a human being, with qualities that made him so much more than JUST a salaryman, or JUST a sorcerer.

Yaga said something to Yuuji which always stuck with me; that in their world, being a sorcerer requires a certain level of insanity, an ability to detach yourself so that you can face the horror of the curses with reckless bravery.

Nanami had his own brand of insanity, one that allowed him to actually remain attached to the value of peoples' lives, to express kindness and compassion, and STILL go out there and face the dangers of his job with a straight back and steady heart. It wore him down terribly, but his powerful belief in his own principles allowed him to do his job, day after day.

That unique madness was what tore away any sense of self-preservation and self-value he had, but also served as one of the strongest inspirations to those who he left behind. Their value of him, their grief and their loss, speaks volumes about the man he was.

I love writing those same aspects you mentioned, the little things that give him happiness and pleasure, the healing and understanding of his own importance, the simplicity of his needs being met.

Cheers to plenty more fanfic! And always feel free to drop me your thoughts, even if you had a random 1 am musing! I love hearing them!

[etherati]

Belmont crest and colorrrrssss

I have a lot of thoughts and feels about the colors used in various versions of the Belmont crest in the netflix show, and how it fits into traditional heraldry. I have decided to make that everyone else's problem. So.

In Leon's portrait, we see him in a surcoat of white with the Belmont crest rendered in azure blue.

In traditional heraldry the "white" component of this would be synonymous with the metal silver/argent, as matte white was not a meaningful color choice and all colors had to be combined with a metal (silver or gold) rather than another color. Now, I know that in the Doylesian sense, this color choice was made because of Leon's original character design, which utilized different tradition imagery and had nothing to do with the Belmonts specifically:

But the text is what it is and the show gave us the first Belmont in an azure and argent version of the Belmon crest. Color meanings vary depending on your source, but azure typically referred to truth, loyalty, and unwavering morality. Morality is, of course, a construct--you can imagine that for the rebellious ex-church-knight Belmont it probably had some input from the bible but moreso was informed by his own oath--to "battle the night". Yeah, this gets made fun of--he's the dumbass who wants to fight an entire time of day--but we know what he means, ok. He's swearing to defend the daylight world against the things in the night that would harm it. He is defining his moral position going forward very specifically--he will uphold humanity and destroy that which would cause it harm. In a fic of mine he described it as representing the daylight sky, which given that he's a vampire in that fic carries even more poignancy, but even in the canon version it works, because that is the moral field he is aligning with.

Meanwhile argent/silver generally refers to purity, sincerity, and faith, which yeah, this is definitely a character who has purity of purpose. This combination of colors suits a vision of the Belmonts that served humanity unerringly, who had faith even when the church itself seemed flawed, who defined their morality by the divide between daylight and night and executed it with sincerity and dedication.

Fast forward to Trevor's time. The family has risen and fallen. At its height it was considered a great noble family--a warrior dynasty, as Alucard put it. Trevor's tunic and his armor both bear the crest in gold; once we're in the hold, we see that it's set against a deep burgundy in the official banners and standards. 

Why the change? What does it mean? Red is obvious--it's the warrior side of them, the military might, the weight of generations of fighters and all the blood they've spilt. It's the most common color in heraldry because conflict and war were themselves so common, but the Belmonts (to our knowledge) weren't besieging neighboring Lords' territories. They defined themselves by their fight against the creatures of the night, defined themselves to the point that they became The Fight. The warrior is the largest part of their identity. In the same fic I had Trevor say that the red represented family to him, like bloodlines, which is not the traditional meaning--but given that nothing defined his family or his relationship with them as much as The Fight, I still think he was onto something. Additionally, red can carry the meaning of sacrifice and martyrdom, which also fucking fits, unfortunately.

As for the gold, usually this refers to faithfulness, nobility, constancy, and glory. On its own, it's a statement of those qualities--particularly nobility and faithfulness. Combined with warrior's red, the glory piece of it starts to assert itself. A family of martyrs and warriors, noble and glorious--that's how they saw themselves, anyway. The family had gotten so far up its own ass that it cared more about perpetuating those ideals and standards than it necessarily did about the original purpose and duty of its existence! Eventually Trevor re-finds that purpose, when he drops the cloak in Gresit and re-dedicates himself to protecting the people--but it's worth noting that the crest he displays in that moment is gold alone, without a specific colored field. The version of the Belmonts that defined themselves by the amount of blood they'd shed are dead and buried, their flags tattered; the one who survived has taken their steadfastness, their faithfulness and constancy and nobility, and managed to reconnect it to what they always should have been.

Which brings us full circle, back to Leon's portrait--because there's another crest, there.

Azure and gold. All the steady dedication of a long standing nobility--much less fragile than one man's personal purity of purpose--applied to moral defense of humanity and the daylight world, rather than simply to fighting and glory for its own sake. There's a reason this is the color scheme I plan for Leon to end up in, in my fic-verse, and is the one that I think may have been in between the other two, chronologically. It conveys all the Belmonts are meant to be and do, without reducing them to simply violence. They fight, not for the fight's sake, but to protect the people they've sworn to protect.

Anyway. Yeah. Uh, colors!

[thecagedsong]

So one take on TOTK’s ending I’ve seen quite a bit of is the idea that it deprived all dramatic weight from Zelda’s sacrifice and that she should have suffered the consequences of her choice (I.e. stay a dragon forever or come back as a dragon human hybrid). This strikes me as a shallow reading of the text and another example of how some people think punishment (or in this case “dying for a cause”) is the only viable ending for someone who made the choice Zelda made. It really rubs me the wrong way given all the development and tragedy she faced in both games. What are your thoughts?

There is something beautiful and tragic and meaningful about the stories etched upon our skin by powers beyond our control. I don't think the people that wish for Amputee Link or Dragon Zelda think that 'dying for a cause' is the only reward for sacrifice. It comes from the truth that most of us don't get to recover from the consequences of our actions the way characters in a story can. Which I absolutely get (one of my earliest fics was written to call out anime fanservice). To escape with no scars or signs that anything awful happened can feel unrealistic or like cheating in a world where we must bear the consequences of our actions. But is that really what happened?

First off is the Doyalist framework the story has to exist within. This is a video game for a major franchise that, while they are excellent at re-writing and ignoring their own canon, still needs to be available for future stories to be told through it. After all the emphasis botw placed on the 'goddess bloodline', if they were to kill Zelda, or even render her sterile, that puts a huge shadow over any future games they could make. You don't kill Harry in the Order of the Phoenix. The stories of Hyrule are far from over, even if this would be a satisfying end point for the timeline. Heck, there's no guarantee Link's not going to wake up in his underwear in a damp cave a third time, tbh. That's the reality of why Zelda had to return to her old body.

But does that mean that totk is a bad story? Does it render Zelda's sacrifices meaningless? Do these sacrifices only have meaning if she came back visibly changed?

I don't think so. Because the sacrifice was never about her body, it was always about her sense of self. "To become an immortal dragon is to lose ones' self" was the sacrifice that was demanded and that Zelda offered.

Guess what? She did have to leave Link to face Ganondorf without her. Zelda did lose all sense of herself for uncountable years. Zelda's memories, her sense of self, was stripped away from her and scattered across all of Hyrule.

It was only because Link loved her enough to collect the pieces of who Zelda was, only because he was able to understand them through the gift of Rauru's arm, and only because both Sonia and Rauru consigned themselves to living as spirits for as long as Zelda was a dragon, that Zelda's sense of self was returned.

It may feel like cheating, or maybe unearned, that Zelda got her body and sense of self back with no visible changes. But how many times have other people stepped in to help shoulder the consequences of your actions? How many times did your parents step in when you made a mistake, to give you another chance?

You ever leave the fridge open as a kid, and accidentally spoil all your food? In a family where money is tight, Mom and Dad might have to sacrifice eating full meals for a while so that their children can eat. That sacrifice is a form of love. If the neighbor hears about it (thin walls) and brings over some casseroles they took from their food stores, that took a few hours to make, does that diminish the parent's sacrifice for their kids? The consequences of that sacrifice, going hungry, have gone away because someone else stepped in.

The mistake was Rauru and Sonia's, letting Ganondorf in and not being strong enough to stop him. The sacrifice was Zelda's, her mind/memories/self. The intercessors are Rauru, Sonia, and Link, unwilling to let Zelda bear the full weight of her sacrifice.

Yes, we live in a world where we often do not get to walk away from the consequences of our sacrifices/choices unscathed. But we also live in a world where, every once and a while, we do get to walk away with only internal changes. Almost always because other people were willing to sacrifice too. Your parents? your siblings? Your friends? Your god?

Zelda's hylian body is a reflection of the sense of self she regained. Of her agency as a character instead of as a mindless dragon/a living sacred site. Zelda's character arc ends with her accepting the sacrifice demanded of her by reclaiming her responsibility towards the people of her Hyrule, taking up the mantle of power and leadership once again. The fact that other people step in to blunt the weight of that sacrifice does not degrade how Zelda changed to get there or what she went through.

It's actually the conclusion of Rauru, Sonia's, and Link's arcs that they also sacrificed to support Zelda. Her arc pulls all the others to their conclusions. Zelda is the narrative gravity of totk. I can't call that bad writing.