Bro Writing On Ao3 Is A Nightmare Lol. Like It Deletes My Work When I Leave The Page To Dubble Check

Bro writing on Ao3 is a nightmare lol. Like it deletes my work when I leave the page to dubble check my sources, so I end up having to rewrite whole paragraphs/chapter ;___;.

The Venture Bros

Bro...I am binge watching The Venture Bros on HBO and man am I obsessed lol. Sadly no one really writes fics for them, but there is suppose to be a movie coming out this years so hopefully that sets the hype off lol. That's all, I just had to share XD

Rick Master List

Intergalactic Asshole (5/5)

Rick stoops to new lows to get what he wants.… Rick Sanchez x YOU! 18+

Memory Lane (2/2)

You lose your memories and Rick comes up with an... ingenious way to try and get them back…. Rick Sanchez x YOU! 18+

The Butterfly Effect (4/5)

Your much needed alone time is gatecrashed by a post-adventure needy Rick…. Rick Sanchez x YOU! 18+

Grick’s Anatomy (2/?)

You're a nurse covering a shift and unfortunately for you, Rick is your last patient…. Rick Sanchez x YOU! 18+

A Gambling Man (3/3)

You and Rick make a bet…. Rick Sanchez x YOU! 18+

If You Let Me (one shot)

Birdperson finds Rick after a three day bender…. Rick Sanchez x BirdPerson! 18+

Down Where It’s Wetter (1/?)

Against Rick’s instruction you take a dip in the ocean. Chaos ensues…. Rick Sanchez x Mr Nimbus x YOU! 18+

Integrity (one shot)

A sad story about Rick and his bird…. Rick Sanchez x BirdPerson! 18+

Dimension Hoppers (one shot)

You wake up in the night needing a glass of water and stumble upon Ricks new side hustle…. Rick Sanchez x YOU! 18+

Fanart

Rick Prime Comic

Loneliest Man in the Universe

Yesterdays

Bad Santachez

Ma Miles - Ch. 17

9.5k words

Chapter warning: Oh gosh, where do I even start... Wound cleaning and dressing, "sponge bath", grief, panic attack, Mo'at should be a warning in and of herself lol, what did I even write??? I am not responsible for anything that happens in chapter 17 alright! Oh, boner alert... Come to think of it - I guess Quaritch's horrible flirting should be a warning too

So... this got a bit longer and later than I had intended lol I would absolutely love any and all comments you would want to give me, be it a clean "neat" or an unintelligible long ramble!

(If you want to be tagged with the updated chapters, please leave your @ myusername in the comments! )

Previous chapter | Masterpost | Chapter 18 - Coming soon

The sea gently laps against the roots below your kelku, the sound soothing as you sit cross-legged in your nest, staring down at your sleeping son while you run your fingers over your songcord, the new beads bringing deep sorrow to your heart. Pressing your voice through your lips, the sound fills the kelku as you sing, remembering each bead as you go. Spider smiles in his sleep and it makes your heart soar within your chest. Your son was safe once more, removed from the dangers that had surrounded you for far too long. Finishing your songcord, you’re surprised to see Jake Sully standing in the doorway, a conflicted expression on his bruised face. Smiling gently at him, you welcome him to sit by your nest with a nod of your head.

“Are they -” Jake tries, his voice breaking as he tries to reel in the conflict raging within him, “The addition was beautiful, I’m sorry I listened in on it without your permission,”

“Who they were with us meant something to me, Jake Sully,” You hum as you look down at the bead between your fingers that represents the recom unit.

“Just call me Jake, Y/n. We have known each other long enough by now,” Jake offers, his voice gentle as he watches you turn the bead between your fingers once more. “How is he?”

“The demon has not moved,” You growl pathetically as your ears flatten against your skull and your tail trashes angrily behind you.

“Yeah, he had that effect on people,” Jake chuckles softly even though he looks uncomfortable.

“What effect?” You huff out a little harsher than you had intended to.

“The anger and frustration that you’re feeling, I don’t think there’s anyone he’s ever crossed paths with who hasn’t felt the same,” The words are meant to bring you comfort, yet, as the realization sets in, it only brings you immense sadness.

Had the demon really been like this to everyone he ever met? Had he really had no one by his side that he could have been himself with? He must have… He managed to create Spider with a mate, after all. The thought sours your mood even more as your tail thrashes behind you. His unit seemed fond of him too, so he couldn’t have been completely alone.

“Tell me about him,” You hear yourself saying, your desperation to know more, to grab and hold onto anything that would point somewhere in the direction that all of this was just one big misunderstanding, clear in your voice.

“About the Colonel?” Jake does a double take, his eyes widening.

“Yes, tell me about him,” You confirm, turning your hopeful eyes to him, “Please,”

“Um… I don’t know what there is to say. You obviously know the important details,” Jake starts, his eyebrows furrowing with unease.

“That is not the important details. Who was he when he was not this Colonel?” You plead with him, the passion in your voice obviously enough to sway him.

“I didn’t know him for very long, but in the time before our relationship turned sour, he was a decent enough guy. Typical bonehead Marine, stern, direct, but behind all of that, he took care of his own,” Jake starts before taking a deep sigh. You smile at the way you recognize what Jake is describing.

“He would always go that extra mile for his people - for his family. But there was always this thing looming over him, a pressure that always had him moving forward, never quite standing still. If he wasn’t training the troops, giving safety briefings, or being in meetings, he was cooped up in his office doing paperwork until late at night.” The way Jake describes him makes the same sad feeling from before drape over you again. What Jake was describing was not a life…

“When he wasn’t at the base, he was always on the move. You see, Quaritch led from the frontline, always taking the first step to pave the path for his people, to make sure that it was the right line of motion.” Jake huffed before immediately freezing, the fond memory obviously not one he expected to have.

“Quaritch made a lot of horrible decisions as head of security for the RDA, but he always looked for the right path to take, the one that would lead to the smallest amount of casualties on both sides. You see, in basic training, you're taught to make quick decisions under fire. To view everything through the pinhole of surviving the moment.” Jake got a far-off look in his eyes and you got the feeling that there was more to the words than what you were talking about right now.

“When none of your choices are good, you make the best of the bad ones. There's no room for second-guessing. No time for regret.” Jake continues before meeting your eyes head-on, ”That comes later. A luxury for the living, so to say."

“Quaritch was no exception. I could see it in his eyes after a bad mission. It was in the way he snapped at people or avoided the big bosses at all possible costs. He would try his best to hide it, but it was in everything he did for many days after.” The words felt hollow as Jake spoke them. Although you understand them, you can't quite wrap your head around the action behind them.

“Why did he not refuse to do these missions?” You can’t help but ask, immediately noticing how Jake shakes his head as he huffs a humorless chuckle.

“It didn’t - doesn’t - work like that, Y/n.” He quickly corrects himself and you get the dawning feeling that he’s speaking from experience. “Once you got a job that paid well enough, you needed to dig your claws in to keep it. Earth, the planet we were from, has become hostile, our Great Mother brutally murdered by the greed of the few, and the desperation to simply just survive of the many. If you were lucky enough to get a job on Pandora, you made sure to keep it. Besides, he didn’t have much choice in the matter. Everyone is replaceable for the RDA - if Quaritch had refused, another, possibly worse, person would have simply just taken his place and done it anyway,”

What Jake says is disturbing, sending chills down your spine. Did the sky people really treasure life that poorly? Did they really just replace each other if someone refused to do what was obviously wrong? You stare back at Jake with big eyes as the silence stretches on.

“You know, I hadn’t really thought about it that way before,” Jake starts, another conflicted look crossing his face. “Quaritch valued loyalty above all else, didn’t matter who you were or who you had been. When he accepted you into his unit, that was a clean slate for you, a new chance at life for when you rotated back home.”

“His values do not excuse his actions,” Mo’at grounds from behind you, making the both of you turn your heads in her direction, only to see Tonowari standing by her side with his arms crossed.

“Tsahìk,” You greet Mo’at, before looking at Tonowari, “Olo’eyktan, I see you,”

“How is your son?” Tonowari asks, his uncertain eyes looking at Spider’s sleeping form.

“Spider is doing well, Olo’eyktan,” Your little kelku feels crowded with the five of you inside, but it means little when Mo’at huffs and presses past Tonowari.

“Spider is going to be a great hunter, a mighty warrior. You do not need to worry about him,” Your Tsahìk looks so proud as she speaks about your son, her head held high as she walks over to the supplies she left the day before. “Y/n, we have lessons to get to,”

“Yes, Tsahìk,” You mumble as you hurry over to her side, bending your head as you pass Tonowari.

“I guess that is our cue to leave,” Jake chuckles as he gets to his own feet.

“I specifically remember giving you an order to be with your family today, to not let me see you moving around,” Tonowari rumbles as he crosses his massive arms over his equally massive chest while pinning Jake with a harsh stare.

“What can I say, my friend…” Jake grins as he spreads his arms, palms up.

“How Neytiri deals with you is beyond me,” Tonowari chuckles, rolling his eyes as he shakes his head. Wrapping an arm around Jake’s shoulders, the bigger man steers Jake’s smaller body out of the marui pod.

“How has his rest been?” Mo’at asks while laying supplies on a woven mat before her.

“His rest has been sure, Tsahìk,” You reply before sitting down beside her, taking the mortar she has offered you.

“And yours?” Mo’at’s knowing eyes pierce through you as you sigh deeply.

“Troubled,” You eventually respond honestly, knowing that the older woman would know whether you replied or not.

“If you are to heal the demon, you will need to be rested. I do not share my lessons with just anyone, Y/n” Mo’at’s voice leaves no room for argument.

If you were being honest with yourself, you felt gratitude for getting the chance to learn from the Tsahìk herself. With no particular skills of your own, you had been shuffled around to where there was a need for extra hands, your whole life. It wasn’t as if you were untalented, you just hadn’t found the right path for you. But maybe going through tsakarem, for however long it would be taught to you, would be the missing link in your life, finally offering you a chance to be useful to your clan.

For the following week, Mo’at teaches you how to crush ingredients into different textures, teaches you what herbs would help with healing wounds specific to the demon’s injuries, and how to assess his condition throughout the day as he lay unconscious. It’s incredibly hard work, but somehow, you make it work. Spider is gone most of the day anyway, so instead of sitting alone in the kelku to watch over the demon, you welcome the older woman’s guidance.

“You have done well,” Mo’at hums one afternoon after you cleaned and redressed the demon’s wounds.

Whatever Mo’at was feeding him sure kick-started his weight gain. As if you hadn’t been struggling before, the demon grew heavier and heavier with each day that went by, making cleaning his body extremely difficult. The awkward positions you had found yourself in while buckling under his weight would have you blushing for years to come. Mo’at’s voice still rings clear in your ears when she commented that modesty had no room in a Tsahìk’s life. Sighing deeply, you had powered through, but with his growing deadweight, it had taken longer and longer to complete the task.

“Wait, was that an actual compliment I heard?” Jake’s voice calls from the doorway, his grin spreading lazily across his face as he looks at Mo’at.

The older woman huffs fondly, the smallest of smiles pulling on her lips while she tries to ignore her daughter’s mate. Jake chuckles as he walks further inside, his long legs swaying lazily as he comes to a crouch before you.

“Do you need help with him?” He smiles down at you as you struggle to lift the demon into place.

“She must need to learn how to do this alone,” Mo’at hums as she walks around your kelku, her eyes sharp following your every move as you struggle to get the demon back in his makeshift nest.

“I’m fine, Jake,” You smile up at him as you shift your hold on the demon, “Thank you,”

“Alright,” Jake just chuckles as he looks up at Mo’at.

“Can you take Y/n to the cove of ancestors?” Mo’at asks, making both of your heads snap to her position by the seaside opening of the marui pod.

“Y-yeah, sure,” Jake replies, his voice breaking a little. Curiosity is written all over his face, but he knows better than to ask by now, something you do not.

“The cove of ancestors?” You repeat questioningly, watching as Mo’at turns to you, her all-seeing eyes pinning you to the woven mat you’re kneeling on.

“You will know when you arrive, Eywa will show you the way,” The reply doesn’t make sense at all, but when Mo’at motions for you to get up to your feet, you do.

“When you have found what you’re looking for, spend the rest of your day with your son. I will watch over the demon,” You’re not about to be told twice, so as your ears twitch excitedly, you get to your feet, and with one last look back at the den, you leave your kelku behind for the first time since you arrived.

Walking beside Jake, you let your eyes fall on the beautiful marui pods that make the village. They’re decorated in beautifully vibrant colors, with shells, stones, and everything else the sea would willingly offer the Metkayina. The sand is warm and wet when you step down from the woven mats that made the bridges between each marui pod. You can’t help but dig your toes into it, grinning childishly as you chuckle.

“You’ve probably never ridden an ilu before, so we’ll take my skimwing. She will get us there quicker.” Jake grins over at you, so obviously knowing something that you don’t.

“I have seen the ilu outside of our kelku, but I have never ridden one,” You confirm, only making Jake grin wider.

“You will love the skimwing then,” This childishly excited side of Jake is new to you, one you have never seen before while he served your people as the Olo’eyktan. You decide then and there that you like this side of him.

You do not, however, like the skimwing. Clutching onto Jake’s middle, he howls with laughter as the skimwing quickly takes you in and out of the water as she flies. It’s quick, it’s challenging and it’s absolutely nothing like riding an ikran. At that moment as you’re plastered to Toruk Makto, you wish you had called for Hawnu instead. When you eventually come to a stop though, the scenery takes your breath away. The last time you had been here, Hawnu had flown low with the small ship behind him while you desperately clutched onto Neteyam’s body, and the time before…

“It’s beautiful,” You whisper in awe as Jake greets a small family as they swim past you on their ilus.

“Isn’t it?” Jake hums back, leaning back now that the skimwing slows down. “The first time I was here, we held a funeral without a body,”

Your gasp comes involuntarily. Clutching his shoulder, you don’t know what to say to him as you move further into the cove, the floating rocks paving way for the beauty that lay within. Letting your eyes roam the huge cove, you realize that it looks so much different than you remembered. Like Jake, you had held your own funeral without the bodies needed to connect with the Great Mother.

“Come on,” Jake turns back and smiles gently at you before breaking tsaheylu with his skimwing.

“When we get down there, I’ll give you a txampaysye, it will help you breathe underwater. Make tsaheylu with it and it will breathe for you,” Jake explains, a gentle smile on his face.

“I will not need one, Jake. I have already been down there nine times before. I will not struggle with the journey,” Swallowing audibly, Jake’s eyebrows furrow before he reaches out to squeeze your knee.

“Alright, come on then,” Nodding, you slide off of the skimwing, taking deep breaths before you let yourself sink beneath the water's surface.

Following Jake’s lead, you swim down until you reach the glowing spirit tree. It’s just as beautiful as you remembered it to be, but this time, you have the chance to really look at its surroundings. Letting your eyes roam around the gorgeous area, you notice how Jake has already connected to Ranteng Utralti. You wonder who it is he’s visiting, perhaps a friend lost in a battøe that should have never been. Tsu’tey’s name comes to mind as you make your way over to one of its vines. The two had become brothers before the final battle and through the years, you knew that both Jake and Neytiri missed him.

Connecting to Ranteng Utralti, you’re immediately brought back to a place you knew all too well. Grinning, you let yourself walk forward as you approach the childish group of recoms currently splashing water at each other in the pond. Z-Dog and Brown balance on the log bobbing in the water as Lopez, and Prager float in the water below them. They’re all grinning and laughing as they try to be something called a “king of the mountain”.

Turning back, you’re prepared to see the rest of the unit lounging on the bank, but to your surprise, only Seanfike stares back at you, the man sitting cross-legged as his tail slaps happily behind him. Narrowing your eyes, you can’t help the way your ears pin back flat against your skull. Something wasn’t right…

“What’s wrong?” Seanfike immediately asks, noticing your worried face.

“Where are the others?” You ask him, seeing how his own face furrows in confusion.

“What do you mean? They’re right behind you,” Seanfike points to the recom’s playing in the pond behind you.

“No, where is Lyle?” You start, but a grin spreads across Seanfike’s face as he chuckles at something behind you.

“Seanfike, please listen,” You press, desperation clutching your chest, “Where are Mansk, Ja, and Lyle?”

“I dunno, they’re probably around here somewhere. Haven’t really seen them in a while,” He eventually replies, confusion deeply etched into his face. “Why?”

A heavy feeling grows inside of you as you realize that they hadn’t been accepted by the Great Mother. Your attempt at putting their souls to rest failed as their bodies had never been united with Eywa. Your chest hurts as you feel tears pressing from your eyes. There’s a wail building in your chest, but below water, as you were, your mouth only fills with water. Distressed, Seanfike clutches your shoulders as Brown’s head comes to rest on your shoulder. All around you, the recom unit, what was left of them crowded you, wrapping their arms around you to hold you close.

“Breathe,” Brown whispers, his gentle voice stinging like a blade against your skin.

You’re roughly pulled from the vine you’re attached to, Jake’s scared eyes pulling at your body to take you up again, but you pull away from him. Struggling underwater, Jake suddenly freezes as he looks behind you, his eyebrows furrowing at something. Turning, your eyes go wide at what you see. From the glowing golden tendrils of Ranteng Utralti, four songcords flat upward, as if presented as something sacred.

To you, they were…

Kicking your legs, you reach for the rejected songcords as you glide through the water. Clutching them to your chest, you curl in on yourself as sorrow overtakes you. Eywa had accepted them, had held them within her warmth until you came and ruined everything. Distantly, you realize that you’re being pulled to the surface, but it isn’t before you’re hauled onto a rock and your lungs desperately gasp for air that you register it.

Coughing and gasping, you wail mournfully as you’re gathered up into warm arms. A hand smooths your wet hair back from your face as you’re rocked, but all you can think about is the songcords clenched tightly in your hands. Other Metkayina gathers around you with sympathetic looks on their faces as they ask Jake what they can do to help, or if they can get the Olo’eyktan. But Jake just shakes his head as he holds you through your heartache.

By the time eclipse arrives, Jake has managed to get you back to the village, his gentle hand leading you out of the water where Spider and Tonowari stand waiting for you. Your son meets you before you’ve managed to emerge fully, his small hand clutching onto the leather of your tweng. Shifting the songcords to one hand, you offer the free one to Spider, feeling how he immediately takes it in his. Although your heart is heavy, you find comfort in his small, warm hand as he clings to yours.

The communal meal goes by in a blur, your son’s worried eyes following your every move. You know that he wants to ask about the songcords still clutched tightly in your hand, but like you, he waits until you’re ready to talk, giving you the time you need to collect your thoughts. Jake and Tonowari keep sending you worried looks, even Ronal looks your way once, her knowing eyes lingering on you before turning away again. It feels like a relief when Spider eventually finishes his meal and you’re able to excuse yourselves from the clan.

Walking hand in hand, you slowly lead Spider down the woven bridges to your kelku, the flickering lights from inside greeting you as you let your son enter first. Taking a deep breath, you follow through, closing the flap behind you. Mo’at, of course, takes one look at you and immediately knows. You want to be angry at her knowledge, but you find that you’re grateful for her understanding when she nods minutely before getting up to leave you alone.

Moving about your kelku, you watch as Spider washes his feet in the little bowl on the other side, his little nighttime routine before going to sleep. Slowly, he settles down in your nest, the blankets nestled tightly around him as he cuddles up. Walking up to sit beside him, you listen as he lets out a deep, sleepy sigh. Closing your eyes, you part your lips as the first words leave your mouth.

“I couldn’t find their bodies,” You whisper, knowing that your son is listening intently. “So I made these songcords for them, hoping that the Great Mother would show them mercy and accept the offering,”

The silence feels cold inside of your kelku, the soft sound from Spider’s exopack the only noise besides the water below your marui pod. It should have been calming, but as your heart clenches painfully in your chest, you’re unable to find any real comfort in it. Turning your head to look at Spider, you see the shimmering in his beautiful brown eyes. Cupping his face in your free hand, you smile sadly at him before getting up to lie down beside him.

“Here, I will sing their cords for you,” You hum as you pull your son closer to your chest.

Sleep finds you shortly after you have finished recounting their milestones, your son’s face as he turns in your arms, surprisingly happy as he closes his beautiful eyes. Cupping the back of his head, you let your eyes drift to the songcords still clutched in the hand below Spider’s head. Closing your eyes, you don't even notice when you drift off, leaving the stress and heartache of the day behind.

It’s another early morning when you wake up the next day. Your body feels heavy as you roll Spider to the side to step out of your nest, the warm glow of the sun greeting you through the cracks as you approach the flaps. Opening them, you let the fresh, salty air clean away the heaviness of sleep from your kelku. Looking down at the songcords in your hand, you sigh deeply. The Great Mother’s will was not without reason, you had to trust that.

Turning to stare at the demon, you find his songcord in your hand, turning your bead between your fingers as you make up your mind. If he could be here before you, alive and real, then Lyle, Mansk, and Ja had to be alive somewhere too. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath as you settle your resolve. Walking over to your nest, you dig until you reach the bottom of the corner that saw little use. Looking at the songcords in your hands one last time, you hide them at the bottom before arranging the nest back to how it was.

Working through your own morning routine, you gather fresh water into bowls before starting on fresh salves and pastes for the demon’s first change. For once, the demon doesn’t seem quite as heavy when you move him while cleaning his body, making your work that much easier. When Spider wakes, you’ve already finished up, the last lingering feeling of despair leaving you as your son sends a cheeky grin your way. He’s telling you about the plans he has for the day when there’s a knock on your kelku, Jake, Neteyam, and Lo’ak smiling gently at you from the outside.

“Thought some fresh food would be good,” Jake offers as you gesture for them to come inside.

Of course, Spider rushes through his breakfast before the soles of the boys feet are the only thing Jake and you see as they hightail out of your kelku, leaving only the fleeting sound of their snickering as they poke fun at something Neteyam said. The kelku falls into a comfortable silence before Jake eventually breaks it with small talk. You sit, chatting like that until it’s time to change the demon again.

Preparing what you needed, you continue to talk with Jake as you start what was now routine for you. Mixing a freshly smelling surly leaf into the water, you dip a clean cloth into it before starting to clean the demon’s arms. Jake leans back on the wall behind him as you go about cleaning the demon, changing to a new clean cloth when it’s time for his face.

“And then she looked at me as if I had grown a second set of ears,” Jake chuckles, his grin wide as he retells the story about how Neytiri had taught him the way of the people all those years ago.

“And then, what did you do?” With a grin of your own, you chuckle as you wipe the demon’s brow, letting your hand linger as you look over at Jake.

“Am I dreaming, Princess?” The demon rumbles lazily, a sappy smile forming on his lips as he lifts his hand to caress your cheek.

Snapping your head back down to look at him, your grin slips into a frown as you slap his hand away as if it burnt you. Hiss furiously at him, you get up to your feet while you drop the wet cloth in your hand. The demon was asleep just moments ago, his sleeping draft given that morning assured that. Had you managed to mess up the mixture somehow? It must be the only explanation as to why the demon was now awake. You watch as his smiling face morphs into something a little sad as his ears droop, but all you can think about is what you did wrong as your wide, scared eyes lift up to meet Jake’s equally surprised ones.

“Aww… What did I do this time, sweetheart?” The demon’s lazy rumble turns charming as he smirks up at you, a cocky grin on his face.

“Quiet your tongue, demon,” You refuse to use his English as you hiss furiously again, noting how his sad, droopy ears pin back flat against his skull instead.

“Yes, ma’am,” He hums, a fond kind of smile spreading across his lips as he closes his eyes and breaches contently.

“How are you feeling, Quaritch?” Jake asks, his voice is low, gentle even, but the reaction is still instantaneous in the demon.

His eyes pop open with both alarm and fear, and it makes something clench painfully in your chest. The demon tries to jump to his feet to get into a defensive position, the move no doubt second nature to him, but with his muscles weak from disuse and his body still exhausted from trying to heal itself, he wobbles under his weight. Still, the demon fights to get into a defensive position, swaying and stumbling as he takes a protective stand before you, pushing you behind him.

“I’m not here to fight, Quaritch,” Jake states quickly, even though anger steadily becomes evident on his face.

“Like hell, you aren’t,” The demon sneers back, his ears flat against his skull as his tail whips anxiously behind him, smacking you with every back-and-forth motion.

From behind, you can recognize how good he looks in a normal tweng, how the soft leather hugs his narrow hips, or how strong the base of his tail is. But at that moment you find that you’re done with his bullshit and the situation his presence has forced you to be in. Grabbing the base of his kuru, you kick his legs out from under him, wrestling his slightly weaker body into the makeshift nest he’s been resting in.

“You stay and you be silent,” You hiss at him furiously, the English command registering immediately as his ears lower submissively. To your surprise, the demon looks almost ashamed, the fight leaving his much bigger body as he stares up at you with big eyes, his tail twitching anxiously beside your hip.

“Yes, Ma’am,” The demon mumbles, his voice rough with disuse as he looks away, unable to meet your eyes any longer.

“Answer him,” You demand, your voice leaving no room for argument.

There’s a tense silence spreading over your kelku as the demon refuses to do anything - as if a petulant child. He’s not meeting your eyes, not even looking in Jake’s direction. He’s clutching the ribs on his right side and you get the grueling feeling that all your hard work has just been wasted on the demon. Hissing, you step over him on your way to leave when his hand desperately grabs your tail.

“Wait!” He croaks and there’s an urgency in his voice, as if he’s genuinely afraid, that has you turning around to look down at him.

The demon is still laying in his makeshift bed where you put him, only having moved enough to grab your tail. Reluctantly, he slowly lets go of your tail, as if he’s testing if you’ll flee or not. Only when you’ve stood still for what he deems long enough does he roll all the way over to his back again. There’s a battle going on within him, one that looks painful enough that you want to reach out to him, to help soothe his troubles as much as possible, but you don’t. Eventually, his conflicted eyes meet yours, as if looking for strength before they close on a deep, rugged sigh.

“I’m peachy,” The demon bites, eyes opening to stare directly at Jake.

“Skxawng,” You scold with a click of your tongue while crossing your arms over your chest.

“Alright, alright, relax already,” He grumbles, reminding you of Spider the few times you’ve had disagreements. “I’m sore, alright. Ribs hurting like shit,”

The admission seems to pain him as his face darkens with embarrassment. He still scowls at Jake in the corner of your kelku, but your immediate worry is the pain that he’s apparently in. Stepping over the demon, you grab the ingredients for the salve that would help with his pain. Sitting down beside him, you cross your legs as you start to grind the ingredients into the bowl. There’s an uncomfortable silence in the marui pod, until it’s disturbed by Spider running into your kelku, laughter in his beautiful voice as he smiles at you.

“Mom,” Spider grins, his happiness all but blinding you as you look up, just in time to see your son’s smile dropping from his face as he freezes, only for Neteyam to run into him from behind.

“Yo, what’s up, bro?” Neteyam snickers as he sidesteps Spider, only to stop dead in his tracks. “D-dad…”

Jake reaches out for his oldest son, offering support when he recognizes fear in his voice. Neteyam grabs his father’s hand before quickly stepping closer to him, but the demon doesn’t care. His initial reaction was a slight widening of his eyes, but just as quickly as his eyes shifted to Neteyam, they’re back on your son again.

“Spider,” The demon croaks, voice pleading. He doesn’t dare to move, but his ears rotate, open and alert, to your son as he stares.

“Come,” You tell him, looking at the spot beside you while still crushing the ingredients into a smooth salve. “Sit,”

“We will be fine, Jake,” You look up at Toruk Makto, noting how his chest has puffed out, his legs spread wide as he covers his son protectively.

“You sure? It’s no trouble staying, Y/n,” Jake assures you, and even though you know he would like to take his son anywhere but here, you know that if you needed him to stay, he would.

“There are words that need to be said between us,” You sigh, feeling the emotional turmoil that this is taking on you weighing heavily on your shoulders as you come to the conclusion that maybe your son shouldn’t be here for this conversation after all. “Will you take Spider with you?”

Nodding, Jake gently leads Neteyam and Spider through the doors, spearing one last look at the demon before disappearing from view. You have no doubt in his mind that he will be back soon, if only under the disguise of having forgotten something. Sighing, you continue the grind, watching as the paste turns creamy and then, finally, a smooth light green salve.

“Point to where the pain is,” You snap quickly at the demon, breaking the silence that once more had spread across your kelku.

“Slower,” The demon rumbles, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“Pain. Point,” You growl, your impatience bleeding over into annoyance when he sighs.

“Here,” He points to his right side, just below his nipple, “And here,”

Nodding your head, you crouch over him, spreading your legs over his hips before sitting down on the meat of his thighs. To feel the demon’s warm skin against the inside of your sensitive thighs brings a lump to your throat, but shortly after, you’re pulled out of your thoughts when the demon growls.

“The hell?” The growl is dangerously deep as he gets up to his elbows, wincing at the pressure it gives his ribs. “The fuck are my clothes, woman?”

The sharpness of his yellow eyes sends butterflies through your stomach, but you refuse to make it excite you. The demon had made his nest, now he needed to lay in it.

“Gone.” You huff down at him, narrowing your eyes.

“What do you mean gone?” He bites back just as quickly, his own eyes narrowing.

“When I found you, you had soiled yourself. Your tweng could not be saved,” He doesn’t understand what you’re saying, his face all twisted as he tries to make sense of it.

“My twe- The hell you saying, woman?” The demon tries to sit up, but you easily push him back down again, noticing how the motion brings him pain.

“Like a baby, you dirty your tweng,” You repeat, this time in English so that he’ll understand.

You don’t have to wait long for him to do so. Almost immediately, his eyes go wide as his face turns dark, his eyebrows narrowing while he clenches his jaw shut. He doesn’t meet your eyes, instead deciding to stare at something else on your face.

“You mean to say that you undressed me while I was out like a light?” His voice is dangerously even when he speaks and had you still feared him, you would have probably backed off of him.

“I do not know this meaning,” You huff back at him, holding your ground.

“You fucking took my clothes off and dressed me in this shit,” The demon raises his voice as he sneers at you from below, his ears slicked back against his skull.

“Would you have preferred to wear soiled armor?” The deadpan comeback makes the demon growl angrily.

“Wha- in English, woman!” The demon huffs, his frustration only growing.

“Should I take you here with a dirty tweng?” The reaction is, once more, immediate. The demon growls furiously, his despair so easy to read as he cups his hands over his tweng.

Huffing at his ridiculous modesty, you lower your body once more, sitting down on the meat of his thighs. Slapping his hands away from his tweng, you watch as he immediately covers it with his hands again. You do not understand what it is he’s doing, so you slap his hands away again, only for the demon to cover his tweng again, his face growing an even darker shade. Grabbing his wrists, you tear them away from the front of his tweng, pinning them to the makeshift nest below him, only for the demon to snap them right back again.

“Stop it,” You hiss at him, your ears folding back in annoyance.

“You stop it!” The demon’s voice is high, almost childish as he looks up at you. He’s still not able to meet your eyes.

“You are like a child,” Grabbing his wrists once more, you tear them away while he fights you. In the end, his weakened state makes him lose the battle. “Do not move, demon.”

Huffing, the demon turns his head to look away from you. It finally gives you the space you need to work. Leaning over him, you spread your hands over the demon’s pectorals, fanning your fingers until your thumbs meet in the middle. You try to feel if his lungs expand equally, but the demon only takes shallow breaths, as if he’s consciously fighting you every step of the way.

“Deep breaths,” You tell him and to your utter surprise, he follows your command without complaining.

Guiding him through the examination Mo’at had taught you, you’re surprised that he doesn’t fight you. He states motionless as you press your fingers down his sternum, checking for tenderness in and around his chest wall. With a finger between each of his ribs, you percuss while listening for hyperresonant sounds. The demon hisses when you reach his right side, but otherwise stays quiet. It’s only when you scoot back to put your ear to his chest that he freezes.

“What are you doing?” He drawls, his head finally moving back to look down at you.

“Be silent and breathe regularly,” You hum back as you press your ear to his warm skin.

His heart beats loudly in his chest, almost too loud, and his breathing is too fast, but you’re still able to listen to his lungs. Moving your head further down to the bottom of his ribcage, you feel his stomach tighten against your cheek as his breath stutters.

“Oh, sweet mother,” You can hear him whisper above you, but then he manages to breathe carefully, somewhat close to what his breathing was while he was asleep.

Moving to the other side, you do the same. Sitting up again, confusion strikes you as you find the demon has screwed his eyes shut, his jaw tightly clenched as his hands have created tight fists by his side. Reaching over to take one of his hands in yours, you open the fist to hold his hand, sliding your smaller hand into his bigger one.

“Tell me, where does it hurt?” You ask him gently, only to receive a snort and a smirk in return.

“Trust me, sweetheart, you don’t want to know,” He mumbles, his drawls so thick that you struggle to understand the words. “I’m just fine, darling,”

Letting go of his hand, you move further up on the met of his thighs to get a better position. After asking him to take deep breaths, you press your fingers over his vital organs, starting under his ribs. With each exhale, you feel for any enlargements, for any tenderness. Moving further down you do the same, watching him closely just in case he wouldn’t say anything about the pain. It’s not until you put your hands on each side of the top of his hip bones that he tenses.

“Do this hurt?” You ask him as you gently make the organ move between your hands.

You only receive a gasp in return as the demon closes his eyes, his lips slightly parted and his breath becomes ragged. There’s something wrong, but he doesn’t want to tell you what it is. Moving over to the other side brings forth the same reaction. You’re about to demand he tells you where the pain is from when your hand brushes against something it should not have. Looking between your wide-spread thighs a huge bulge stares back at you from beneath the demon’s tweng. With wide eyes, your head snaps up to meet the dangerously sharp ones of the demon. His lips have parted more, the tips of his fangs visible from the plumpness of his lips. You can feel your irises dilate as the warm scent of the demon reaches your nose.

“Maybe you did want to know after all, mama,” The demon’s husky voice has dropped several octaves, the deep rumble all but rattling through your ribcage as your own core responds to his scent.

Until his words register in your suddenly foggy mind. Hissing, you jump off of him as if burned. The disappointment is clear as day when the demon flops his head down on his makeshift nest again. Stomping around your kelku, you grab your blade before walking to the door.

“Use the salve in the bowl on your pain, and drink water,” You growl before stepping outside. The fresh, salty air greets you as its warm winds caress your heated skin. It feels great.

“Trouble in paradise?” Jake chuckles softly, making you jump.

“What?” You’re caught so off guard that you don’t know what to say.

“You seem distressed, Y/n,” Jake squeezes your shoulder gently as he bends to look into your eyes.

“Would you not be distressed if you had to live with him after everything he has done?” Your words come out much harsher than you had intended to, but you find that they ring no less true than what you feel.

The demon had taken everything that you had. He had snatched every breath from your lungs, had made you feel, had made you care only to turn his back to you at the first opportunity he got. He had taken everything you taught him and used it against you. Still, when his body lay beaten and broken at death’s door, you had stood by his side. You had cleaned his body and healed his wounds while he rested. You had kept him alive when all he deserved was to be washed out in the sand, a dark moment in Na’vi history. Jake just looks at you with knowing eyes. You can no more help the sigh that leaves you than you can keep your shoulders from sagging under the weight of Jake’s hand.

By the time you get Spider, the demon has been asleep for many hours, but you still make a mental note to up the sleeping draft you mix with his water. Sighing, you watch as Spider curls into your nest, his smaller body tired after yet another day filled with new and exciting adventures. Smiling to yourself, you step over to the demon, pulling the blanket off of him. Sitting down, you start the cleaning routine, removing leaves on the deeper wounds while cleaning old salve from shallower cuts. By the time you had finished, you felt the weight of the day in your tired eyes. Curling up beside Spider, you’re happy to see that his beautiful brown eyes glitter as he stares at you. Smiling, he bumps his masked forehead to yours as he sighs happily. It doesn’t take long before you’re asleep, warm and tired as your son’s heartbeat plays the most beautiful rhythm you have ever heard in your life.

Which is why you’re so confused when you wake up to the rumbled growls of a much darker character. Turning your head, you’re met with the demon’s sharp eyes as he huffs with frustration. He hasn’t moved from his makeshift nest apart from sitting up, the blanket tightly wrapped around him. Groaning, you rub the sleep from your face as you yawn. This would apparently be another day when the demon would be awake. Annoyed, you start to plan a way to slip him more of the sleeping draft. Maybe, if you were lucky, he would drink the entire bowl and choke on -

“Woman, stop ignoring me,” The demon growls, his voice annoying in the silence of the early morning. “Where are my weapons?”

“Where I found you,” You respond lazily as you sit up in your nest to stare at him.

“The hell you mean by that, darling?" He sneers, the anger blazing in his sharp eyes.

“I left everything when I took your armor off,” You sigh, pinching the broad bridge of your nose as you pray to Eywa to give you strength.

“Now why in the ever-loving hell would you do that, sweetheart?” His voice cuts deep like a blade through the soft underbelly of a beast as his eyes narrow.

“You have no need of them,” You start, watching as his chest puffs while his face contorts into one big frown, ready to spit angrily. “But I took your blade with us. It’s in Cupcake’s bag.”

“Cupcake?” At the mention of his ikran, the demon halts, his eyes turning from angry to hopeful in a matter of seconds. “Is she alright?”

The demon’s voice is gentle when he asks, yet, the urgency behind his question shines through. He cares deeply for his ikran. The knowledge warms something deep within you, making your own annoyance bleed away.

“She is safe with Hawnu,” You confirm, offering what you hope is a comforting smile.

The demon takes a deep breath, wincing slightly before he lets out a sigh. In your own stressed state, you have failed to realize that he must have his own set of stress going on in his life. Something must have triggered his sudden change of heart. The man you had come to know, the man behind this… this unrecognizable mask, something drastic would have had to happen for him to leave all reason and just act. In the back of your mind, Jake’s words ring loud and clear. ‘When none of your choices are good, you make the best of the bad ones.’

“Thanks,” The demon mumbles, his voice calm and relieved.

You’re about to ask what happened when Spider yawns beside you. Looking down at your son you smile as his beautiful brown eyes open to greet you. Reaching forward, you brush the hair from his forehead, chuckling lightly as he swats at your hand before brushing the rest of his hair away by himself. Sitting up in your nest, his easy smile drops to one of uncertainty as he notices the demon. Looking up, you notice how the demon furrows his brows before taking a deep breath.

“Good morning, Spider,” He drawls, his voice warm and heavy, like a blanket during thunderstorms.

Spider doesn’t reply though, and although you want to tut at him for being rude, you don’t. His father had broken something sacred, something only he could make right again. The only thing you could do was to offer your son the support and safety he needed when he needed it. Getting to your feet, you offer Spider a fruit for breakfast, smiling gently at him when he slices the fruit in two and offers you the first dice of meat. Reaching forward, you cup the back of his messy head before leaning down to place a kiss on the top of his head, letting your lips linger for a moment too long before pulling back. Looking up at you, the conflict on your son’s face makes you smile sadly down at him. You wish more than anything that you could take this hardship away from him, that you could make his life as joyful as he has made yours. When he sighs and looks over to his father though, pride explodes within you at the strength you see in his small form.

But as Spider opens his mouth, no doubt to offer his father food, Neytiri and Jake enter your kelku, the older woman’s smile slipping from her face when sharp eyes meet hers. Before you’re able to react, the demon is up on his feet, staggering unsteadily as he pushes Spider and you behind him as he takes a defensive stand before you. The way he hisses sends a chill down your spine and makes the tip of your tail twitch with unease. When the deep growl leaves the cavity of his chest, an immediate biological reaction course through you, forcing you to reach out for safety while clutching your so to your side. Your heart beats wildly as you hold onto the demon’s tail, your hand gripping so hard that your fingers grow cold. Distantly, you can hear Jake tell you that everything is alright, that you’re safe, but the demon’s furious growls want nothing to do with the Toruk Makto’s words. It’s only then that your frozen body thaws, your fear bleeding out of you as Jake’s words reach your mind. Taking in the situation before you, Neytiri hisses and snarls, her blade drawn and pointing at the demon, while her mate desperately tries to calm the situation behind her.

“Get your batshit crazy wife away from my family, Corporal,” The demon sneers, his tail whipping furiously beneath your hand.

Letting go of the demon’s tail, you slap the back of his head, having understood what he just said, knowing it was not nice words.

“If you come near my son again, I will skin you alive, woman,” You have never heard him sound this venomous before, his fury sending dread through your body.

As Jake hisses in response to the threat to his mate's life, the feeling that something is wrong settles heavily in the pit of your stomach once more. Pushing Spider further behind you, you try to sidestep the demon, but his long arms keep pushing you back as he shifts his defensive stand with each move you make.

“Be nice,” You scold him, holding his arm still as you finally step out from behind him.

“You don’t know, do you?” He huffs a flat chuckle, but there’s no humor in it as his dangerously sharp eyes meet yours.

“What do I not know?” You ask confused, a heavy stone dropping in your stomach as the unease doubles up.

“How she held our son at knifepoint, how she ran her blade across his chest, drawing blood before going in for the killing blow,” The demon’s words are spat so venomously, with such pure hatred, that it leaves no room for questioning.

Yet, you can’t help the gasp from leaving your lips as another, much colder chill runs down your spine. Looking down at the long, crusting wound across your son’s chest, you walk through your belief that he had hurt himself during his escape, like with the other cuts and bruises. But now that you really look at the wound, as you look beyond the healing flesh, you realize that the wound is too clean to have happened by accident.

“Quaritch was holding Kiri at knifepoint too, threatening to kill her if I didn’t surrender. Y/n he took our children just to draw me out. We thought we had just lost Neteyam by Quaritch’s demand,” Jake hurried to say, his voice pleading with you.

But all you can hear is that Neytiri ran her blade across your innocent son’s chest, drawing his blood before going in for the killing blow to end his life. Turning to Neytiri you see how her blade has lowered, her hands slack by her sides as she stares ahead, her expression empty behind her eyes.

“A son for a son, wasn’t that what you said?” The demon sneers and his fury with Neytiri all but drips from the sound.

“Oh, shit,” You can hear Jake whisper, but your ears start ringing as the words sink in and you understand what has been said.

“Is this true, sister?” You turn to Neytiri, praying to the Great Mother that it wasn’t so, that this was just one of the demon’s and Jake's many lies.

“Yes,” Neytiri doesn’t even deny it, but the older woman doesn’t look proud about it either.

A wounded sound leaves your throat as your mind goes blank with pain. Distantly, you feel tears start to roll down your face at the betrayal of your sister’s actions. You’re screaming, but you can’t hear it, unable to stop it as sobs rush through your body. Strong arms wrap around you and before you know it you’re going down, the warm body behind you following you down as your knees hit the woven ground of your kelku. You’re wailing, but all you can hear is Neytiri’s ‘Yes’ ringing through your mind.

The demon tries to comfort you, his big hand holding your head against his chest as you cry. Spider steps closer too, his small arms wrapping around your shoulders as he presses his head to your back. It doesn’t help. Reaching out for your son, you clasp your hand around his, noting how his hand is so small where it’s held by yours, and suddenly, the image of Neytiri holding a blade to your son’s small body flashes before your mind. In the end, rage is the only thing left inside of your empty heart.

“We’re supposed to protect the children,” You whisper morseso to yourself, your voice almost inaudible. But you know they've heard you by the way they all flinch at your words.

“We’re supposed to protect the children,” You say louder as you push away from the demon’s embrace, slapping at his arms and chest to get away when he reaches for you when you turn to face Neytiri again.

“We’re supposed to protect the children!” You scream at her, but she won’t meet your eyes. Stepping away from the demon, you stare at both of them, truly seeing them for the first time in your life before continuing. “And you use them to hurt each other,”

You watch as both of them flinch, their ears pinned back so close to their skulls that had you not known they were there, you would have missed them. Their tails have curled protectively around their legs, their heads lowered in shame, but somehow, they still have the audacity to meet your eyes when you stare at them.

“I saved your son while desperately searching for my own and this is how you repay me,” Your words fall like stones in the silent marui pod.

Behind them, Tonowari stands tall, his warriors no doubt calling him to the marui pod for him to see what the wailing and shouting is about. His eyes are wide as he stands behind the Sullys, ears flat against his mighty hair, while his tail thrashes behind him.

“You are both unworthy to call yourselves parents in the presence of Eywa.” You sneer at them, your fury making your skin grow cold, threatening to make your teeth clatter against each other.

“You do not deserve them,” Your voice is surprisingly calm when you speak, making their ears twitch with the change, as if the defeat in your voice was somehow worse than the rage.

Wrapping your hand around Spider’s arm, you walk out of your kelku without looking back. You needed to find Hawnu, needed to feel the wind through your hair, needed to take your son to a place where you knew he would be safe, where you knew he would be protected. When you had calmed down enough, you had a whole cave full of things you would need to talk to him about, but for right now, you just needed to feel safe, if only for a little while. With your heart broken and bleeding in your chest, you call for Hawnu, your ikran immediately responding with his own screech, Cupcake’s complimentary screech following just behind.

“Do you have space for one more?” Mo’at’s voice asks gently from behind and you’re too tired to argue with the older woman, so instead, you just nod as the tears roll down your face. Maybe she would know why the Great Mother had turned her back on you…

Chapter 16 | Masterpost | Chapter 18 - Coming soon

Could u please do reader x joker 2019?

Reader protects Arthur (before he turned into joker) from when his sign was taken and she beat the kids up and he won’t ever forget that moment. But now,Arthur turned into the joker, he returns the favour by saving her from bad guys?

And when he saves her, he walks elegantly towards her 😫✨ and says “I missed you, doll” 🫣🫣🫣😭✨

Title: Savior Fandom: Joker 2019 Pairing: Arthur Fleck (Joker)  x Reader Rating: Mature for safety. Warnings: Violence, (attempted) sexual assault, Crude Language, Clown beating, Blood, Murder. AN: I wrote two versions of this. A sweeter tale, after which I realized the prompt specifically said that the Reader beats those bad boys up – so I rewrote it. Now I really struggled with how the Joker saved the Reader in this. I’ve written several different scenarios, but none of them felt right. In the end, I decided to base it on personal experience and went along with something that happened to me and frightened me a lot while I was in university. And that was passing this certain school and the young men that tried to sometimes sexually assault you there. It never went as far as in this fic, though, thank the lucky stars. But I had to push the situation a bit more to get a more satisfying end to their lives >D

Be warned, the boys in the second part try to attempt to rape the reader (I won’t go as far as clothes being torn off etc, but they do try to drag her into an alley and scold her).

So if any of this triggers you, please, do not read and hold out for the sweeter fill of this prompt that I will be posting later on <3

~ Savior Fill : I Can Handle Myself ~

The boys ran past you with such haste, it was as if a train passed you. You followed them with your eyes, frowning, and inwardly cursed how rude they had been to nearly trample you on their way past you. But you didn’t have long to think angry thoughts, because a man rushed by, clearly in pursuit. A clown, you thought, eyes now wide. A clown with a green wig cap adorned with curly fake hair and ridiculously big shoes. It must make his steps that much harder. How did he manage to keep up, you wondered.

“Hey, stop them!” the clown shouted. But the boys were shouting back profanities and crossed the road. The clown was nearly hit twice by a car as he followed. One glance around you told you that no one had bothered to run after them. Though some people stood and watched, most seemed to ignore the weird scene. You didn’t hesitate a single moment, though, and ran.

It had been hard to cross the road, but once you were on the other side, you came to a halt and your eyes darted from side to side. Where had they gone to? Then you spotted the clown as his feet slipped from the pavement and he caught himself with his hands. He’d nearly fallen but scrambled up to his feet again before he dashed into one of the alleys. He disappeared out of sight, but you had memorized the spot and made your way over to it as swiftly as you could.

At the entrance of the alleyway, you stood still to observe something you had hoped you would never see. Five teenagers stood huddled around the clown. His bright yellow sign lay scattered upon the floor, broken as if smashed against something. The man was quiet but conscious. You could see how he tried to shield his body from the incoming blows. And your mind went haywire.

You didn’t even register how you moved in on the boys, you suddenly just stood behind them. One high kick was enough to hit the first one on his shoulder. The tall teenager turned around, clearly confused, but you gave him little time to retaliate. Instead, he met your fist eye-first, and stumbled backward, nearly tripping over the clown’s shivering frame.

At this point, the others boys had noticed your presence and they stopped their assault on the man. Instead, they turned to you. Eyes all dark and glowering, teeth shown. Like rabid dogs, you thought. But there was no time for thinking now.

You held your arms up in front of your face, hands curled into fists. A little hop to your step as you sprung side to side like you’d seen boxers do on the television.

“How about it, boys?” you whispered. You had wanted to sound cool, but something in your voice broke. It didn’t come out sad though, just a little husky. The boy whom you had dubbed their leader because he was taller and seemed to be the one to take initiative took a step closer to you. His eyes widened at the sight of you.

“Leave the clown alone,” you demanded, then ducked when the anticipated attack struck you right after. The boy’s knee was up to hit your chest, but you had seen it coming and darted out of its way. A fist was launched at your face, but either by sheer luck or good reactional skills, you managed to block it with your arms.

The move seemed to surprise the boy as much as it did you, because he took a second to recover before he tried to hit you again.

The others boys now joined in, the clown forgotten behind them. They inched closer to you with fists raised until a second boy launched himself at you, and all of a sudden, hands and legs were swung in your direction like a flurry.

You didn’t manage to dodge all of the blows, but you made a lucky move when you crouched down to avoid them, then kicked out your leg. Your foot hit an ankle, and one of the boys fell, taking the boy next to him with him by accident. With two down, you sprung up again and hurdled yourself at one of the remaining three. It was one of the smaller ones, an easier target. You tackled him to the floor in a tight hug, then let go of him the moment he lay down. Seated on top of him, you smashed your fist against his cheek, a blow that pushed his head into the dirt and the crumbling asphalt below. Then you moved off of him.

Just in time, it seemed. The two boys who still stood rushed forward to you. In a fit of panic, you reached next to you. The road was littered with garbage that had been torn from the many uncollected garbage bags, and your hand closed around something sharp. What the hell was it?

It didn’t matter. This was your life you were concerned about. With eyes closed, you flung the sharp object away from you, only to hear a gasp come from the boys. Had you hit one of them?

But when you opened your eyes, you saw they were unharmed. But they were gasping at something, eyes raised to the sky. You looked up to see your shot had cut one of the electricity cables that hung above the alley. The cable dangled dangerously above your heads, a crackling sound and sparks erupted from the cut end.

“Come on,” one of the boys then shouted, “Let’s go, let’s go!” The boy still on the ground jumped up to his feet. Blood seeped from a gash on his cheek. He threw you an accusing glare, but made no comment, before he turned away from you and the dangling electricity cable, then ran off.

The other boys followed until you were left alone in the alley. Alone apart from the shivering clown.

You ignored the cable above your head, as you did the shouts of someone in one of the apartments who was cursing that their television had stopped working. Hurriedly, you crawled over to the hunched form of the man, and then slowly bent over him. He kept his hands between his legs. Must have taken a few hard kicks to the balls, you thought. You felt pity for him.

If only you could have chased them off earlier. If only you could have spared him this fate.

“Hey,” you carefully started, your hand on the man’s shoulder. He didn’t shrug your hand away, but he did flinch when you first touched him. But then, as he heard your voice, his eyes opened and he looked up at you. Your heart nearly stopped beating, because the eyes that locked with yours were the brightest green you had ever seen. So pretty. Accentuated by the clown’s makeup and his hair, certainly, but ever so beautiful.

You could have asked him then if he was okay, but that would have been a superfluous question. Of course he wasn’t. He was beaten up, and bruised, his sign shattered. There was nothing you could do to help his bruises, you knew that. But perhaps there was a chance to bring him comfort, to soften those mental wounds he must have received so they wouldn’t scar as badly.

“Let me help you,” you whispered, again. Your hand slid to the man’s white-painted cheek.

He smiled.

2.

You’d nearly forgotten the man you had once saved. The mysterious clown who hadn’t given you his name and hadn’t accepted any offers to help him. It had been as if he was scared of you. The way his shoulders raised when you spoke to him and how he avoided looking into your eyes. You had caught him looking at you though. Whenever you looked away his eyes would be upon you, and there’d be awe within them. As if he couldn’t believe that you were real.

But that was months ago.

When you met him again, you were on your way home. This particular street led you past a community college building, a place where young men often loitered about, hands in their pockets, leering at you when you passed by. You’d gotten used to the whistles and the comments. You thought it was normal until one of your fellow female students pointed out that they never called after her.

Passing this street didn’t always make you feel safe, so when you were particularly tired, you’d go the long way around to the train station. But today, you wanted to take the shortcut. A choice you instantly regretted.

“Oi, pretty girl,” one of the boys wearing a hoodie, hands in his pockets like they usually had, shouted the moment he saw you. He came heading your way, a weird lilt to his step. You instantly knew this wasn’t going to be okay. “Oi, come here,” he said.

Behind him, a friend of his emerged out of the shadows of the building. A crooked smile upon his face and an evil glint in his eyes. “I think you have a little time for us, don’t you?” the boy said.

Two more friends emerged and you quickly scanned the area. Somehow, you were all alone. No other students were behind you, just in front, but they had just rounded the corner and were long gone.

The streets seemed empty as it was already getting late. The setting sun shone over the street tiles, making them shimmer. With hands flexed, you made to turn around, but the first boy managed to corner you.

“Uh-uh, I don’t think so,” he said. You wrinkled your nose in disgust when you saw he had grabbed you by the arm. His grip was tight and unpleasant. You started to feel scared for being surrounded by these young men who clearly wanted a thing from you that you were unwilling to give them. “Here, baby, don’t be difficult. Now, you’re gonna be good to me and my friends?”

You flinched, certain of one thing. You were not going to make this easy for them.

With as much strength as you could muster, you pulled your arm back sharply. An attempt to bring your arm back to your belly, but the boy’s hand remained attached. It hadn’t worked.

With gritted teeth, you flung your knee up to aim at either his chest or his balls. You hoped to hit the latter. But once again the boy was too swift. He used your own arm to block the attack, which hurt darn much. You winced and bit back a cry at the pain you felt. Stupid, you thought. You probably had bruised your own arm.

Another attempt from you to twist out his hands, but the second boy gripped your shoulders from behind and forced your body still. You cursed, loudly. “Let go of me,” you said as loudly as you could. “Let go, or I’ll scream.”

This threat instantly triggered a third boy to cover your lips with his palm. “You try and fight back bitch, and we’ll fuck your cunt into a bloody mess.”

With eyes wide of shock, because how dare they scold and denigrate you like this? You noticed how the four of them started to drag you into the narrow alley next to the building. An alley, you knew, would mean the end of it. Because how many people passed this street? And how many of them would think to look in that alley on their way? Your chances to escape would be zero to none.

No, your mind screamed. No, this can’t be how it goes. This can’t happen to me.

You struggled with all your might, even if it were hardly possible to move within their arms. All it earned you was a hard whack against the head, and a kick against your shin. More bruises, you thought, panicking. You had to get out.

Just before they could pull you into the alley, you had the mind to bite the boy whose arm had circled around your shoulders and who covered your mouth in the hand. He cried out. Then suddenly his hands were gone, and he fell face-first next to you. His head inside the alley. His body was limp.

You looked at him confused. Had your bite done that? But then a second boy, this time to your other side, called out. A high-pitched yell of pain. Arms flailing, he fell down to the ground as well, leaving only the two boys behind your back.

Their hands let go of you, and finally you were able to turn around. There they stood, both boys with their backs turned to you. Their attention all upon a new man who had appeared behind them. A man in a red suit, stylish, if not for the many spots upon it. Had he spilled coffee, you wondered at first. But no, it would have been a lot of coffee. The spatters were too many and too far apart. Then what could it be?

The man stood face down, a cigarette held between his lips and fingers, the tip glowing. You could not see his face, but something about his posture seemed familiar. Like a distant memory was awoken upon the sight of him. You’d seen this man before, but where?

His other hand rested inside his pants pocket, lazily, elbow hooked. Nothing about him indicated what had just been done, so you didn’t notice it at first. Not until he blew a small cloud while the cigarette left his lips, and he finally looked up at you all. You saw the paleness of his face. Not natural, but made by makeup. Familiar, you thought again. But it couldn’t be him, could it? The blue triangles near his eyes. The green tangled hair.

This man was dressed as a clown, you realized. A clown you’d seen pictures of before on the television, and on the wanted posters all around the city. A villain recently sought after by Wayne and the authorities.

The Joker.

No wonder you had thought you recognized him. A man known to be ruthless. Cold needles spread all over your spine and you froze up with fear. You knew you had to go, to escape, to run fast and as far as you could before he ended your life like had the lives of so many others. His reasons were often left unknown. Not just Wayne’s men had been murdered, dozens more.

But then your eyes turned to the two boys on the floor and you realized the clown must have a gun. Red had started to spread, leaking from the chests of the boys down onto the street tiles below. Their clothes were stained with the red liquid that was now rapidly spreading.

They’d been shot.

Then the stains on the clown’s suit weren’t made by coffee at all. They were blood as well.

You looked up again in fear, eyes wide. But the Joker’s gaze was not upon you. It was fixed firmly upon the boys in front of you. His hand rested lazily in the pocket of his red pants. Probably where he is hiding the gun, you mused.

“I think you have something of mine there,” was all Joker needed to say for the boys in front of you to start stumbling backward. What was it? You wondered. What did they have? What had you found yourself entangled in? Their screams echoed throughout the alley as they turned on their heels to run. They made it past you, into the narrow street, but only made it in several paces before one by one, they were shot in the back. Cowardly, you thought, but they oh-so deserved it for what they had tried to do to you.

They fell forward, their bodies slumped. You didn’t know if they were instantly dead, or if their life was slowly slipping away from them. You didn’t care to watch. Instead, you turned your head back to the Clown Prince of Crime, a title given to him by the most ruthless and the most influential of all men in Gotham.

The Joker stood where he had been standing. The only change was his now raised arm, a smoking gun aimed at where the boys once had run. Your heart nearly stopped of fear, and you hardly dared to keep your eyes upon him. Surely, he would shoot you next. Whatever this was, whatever this had been, he would probably assume you were part of the group. Had they stolen something from him? Did he want it back enough to kill them for it? Why should he spare you?

With your eyes averted, nearly closed while you trembled in fear, you heard his steps upon the tiled street. His soles slipped upon the glistening tiles, still wet from the rain earlier today, before the sun had started to peek through the clouds.

You heard how he walked towards you, taking his time, a cigarette in his hand, still burning. Then he brought it to his lips and took a long drag before he exhaled slowly. Little clouds of white swirled up from his lips to disappear into the early summer sky while he tilted your head with one finger, forcing you to lock eyes with his own.

They were the purest green you had ever seen. It was within that instant that you recognized him as the clown whose life you had once saved. Eyes that had once been filled with terror and disbelief, but had been ever so green that they had drawn you in. Eyes that had once looked at you as if he could not believe you were real. The gaze in them was the same. That look that told you he had a hard time believing that you existed.

But why?

This man had once been hunched over, frightened for his life, trembling. But now it was you who was in his place. And something in his gaze softened. You saw the recognition in his eyes and thought he must have spotted yours.

His fingers upon your chin tightened. The way he studied you while he moved your face with his hand, tilting it from side to side as he took you in the sight of you, made something in his eyes change. His gaze became more intense, darker.

Then his head dipped forward and his lips were planted against yours. The taste of bitter smoke and something unique to him invaded your senses. It felt pleasant. Unexpected, but heartwarming. A butterfly rose in your chest and wanted to fly, hot flames licked the insides of your belly. And this man had done all that with just one kiss.

And then he withdrew, but his eyes remained focused upon your lips. As if he was hungry for more, a craving you shared with him. He seemed to be catching his breath, his chest moved rapidly up and down, while his fingers finally slid free from your face so he could place his hands on your hips. You placed your hands on his chest and looked up at him, lips parted in a silent sigh, a quiet invitation for him to kiss your lips again. The Clown Prince of Crime happened to be your very own clown.

“I missed you, doll,” he murmured, voice hoarse and low. He had no idea how much you had missed him. "I think you'd be a lot safer in my arms, don't you?" he hummed, and you didn't think to go against him.

The newspapers reported you missing the very next day.