#god he's also such an insulting little bitch too when he needs to be

[witchcraftandburialdirt]

7 to 11

✧ ── 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐒 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐍

7. What was the strangest thing the mun has done that make the muse confused?

── "My my, strangest thing? Quite difficult when they have so many eccentricities, however one of the strangest things was their need to go into the forests alone and collect ... carrion. Which mind you, appropriate if you intend to use the bones and flesh to render a potion or perhaps give it in offering for a diety to gain a boon but ... Not at all! They knelt down and photographed it for some "artistic" - I use that term loosely - project, as though trying to capture the beauty in death is a visionary concept. Ha! However, they were quite naive then, who am I to slander the infectious creativity of youth? Still though; quite an odd bit of behavior; they didn't even harvest the animals for later use - what a waste."

8. Does the mun like to shitpost/make funny posts a lot?

── "Unfortunately, it is dependent on the day; a tragedy on both ends of the "serious" to "hilarious" pipeline. My writer seems to have little consistency in terms of keeping their silliness under lock and key, you may see something foolish written shortly after some dreadful, horrific scene. They seem to have multiple boxes in their mind for various topics, ready to be opened at any time - and that is just what is put onto this strange space, private is somehow - frightfully - worse."

9. Has the mun ever scared the muse?

── "HA! That little thing frighten me? What do I have to fear, their childlike whimsy or anxious demeanor - please, they are far from frightening. I have faced Gods, Demons, a mere mortal human is not a threat but a liability most of the time. No, Battle Mistress, I have no fear of such a person; if I did I would not have survived the mindless prattle of the city in which I grew up in. Predatory animals care little about the actions of their prey and a wolf has little fear of a rabbit."

10. What about the mun does the muse find annoying or bothersome?

── "If I'm to be honest with you, most things - I am not a fan of most people and they fit the bill of "average" quite well. How can one be content with such a simple life? They have patience and precision within their youth and yet they struggle to use it to climb higher - I could never be content with the dirt and worms. A lack of ambition, choosing balance and peace, would mean death in my homeland - I cannot think to stomach it. To stay mediocre and be content with it simply rings to me as a fear that they could not satisfy the demands meant for progress; their fulfillment surely comes out of fear. The notion that a life needs balance to thrive is a lie meant to stengthen what little grip people think they have on their futures; chaos and disorder will come regardless of how hard you push - might as well try to use some of it for a boon. I would rather break my life and begin anew than be satisfied with its messes."

11. Do you like the backstory your mun gave you?

── "Tell me, Miss Sivir, did you like when your parents were cut down and you were forced to live a life with the street rats? Of course you didn't - perhaps I can appreciate the brutal lessons taught to me throughout my life but even the most depraved us our kind do not relish in our own misery. Everything has been taken from me, over and over and over again - I have no idea if my future will amount to anything more but the same cyclical agony. If not, then maybe I will be glad for my trials, to have surpassed them - to find purpose and will in myself. But if they continue to wane against me as they always have, I fear that the call of the dirt may be more welcoming than previous thought. Then maybe I will find out why the Deathsinger finds so much bliss in what lays beyond - if I'm permitted to."

[boltwrites]

I need a Logan/Wade/Reader fic where reader is dating Wade (before movie) and meets Logan, sees how he acts with Wade, and makes a ton of “just fuck already” jokes that Wade (ofc) encourages and it pisses Logan off until he does one day (reader included lol) 😏

A/N: i'm going to have to make a part 2 for this, since this is pretty much solely humor and reader making fun of wade and logan. i will be making a part 2 for the smut, though. mark my fucking words.

some things to note: reader is stated as polyamorous and LGBT (no specific label is mentioned). also, lots of sex jokes and fourth wall breaks lmao.

You were used to Wade bringing around some strange characters. Usually, they thought he had drugs or something (which he did, most of the time. Until they all mysteriously went missing right before his birthday party. Almost like his unsavory lifestyle was suddenly sanitized for wider consumption. Hm. Weird.) Sometimes they wanted money - other times it seemed more likely that Wade was holding them for ransom and relapsing into his merc days. But that wasn't really your business.

The point to your opening statement was: you didn't really want to fuck Wade's friends. Astonishing, really - you went to high school with a group of weird kids that all turned out to be some flavor of L,G,B or T and as such, you either wanted to or did fuck most of them. But Wade's friends? They just lacked a little something-something. Al was too old and too high most of the time. Yukio and her gruff girlfriend were far too young for you. Colossus was too Russian. Vanessa was Wade's ex - which would have been hot, honestly - but you weren't the biggest fan of how the two of them handled the post-breakup, and therefore she was off limits. But Peter... maybe...?

No. No, if you fucked Peter, Wade would never let you hear the end of it.

So, you were typically relegated to Wade, and Wade alone, which was more than fine by you. That insane healing factor meant the man could go all night, and he was naturally (or, unnaturally. Mutantly?) ribbed for your pleasure. Nice.

So when he came back from his most recent world-saving (multiverse saving?) adventure, you expected him to bring back maybe some kind of bright-eyed teenage sidekick, or a wacky off-the-wall team up, like Dopinder.

Ah, right, Dopinder. God, you would have fucked him. Sadly, the man was staunchly monogamous like some kind of fucking freak.

Anyway, that's not the point. The point is, when you walked into Wade's unbirthday party? He had company. And the company? Hot. Old. Man.

Oh no. Your fucking weakness.

You'd really never forgive Wade for evaporating Cable before you had a chance with him.

Maybe this was his make-up present.

And said present - or, man, shouldn't objectify - could not take his damn eyes off Wade. Glaring at him, huffing a little half-chuckle when Wade insulted someone with a joke, rolling his eyes as Wade recounted some story of their conquests with exaggerated arm movements and wild, unnecessary additions.

Oh my god. Oh my god? Did Wade fuck him before you could? That bitch!

You scoffed to yourself as you threw your jacket on the coat rack - or was that Peter? Who gives a shit. You were on a mission. You sauntered straight up to Wade, no greeting or preamble, and tossed your arm around his shoulders, setting your ass down right in his lap.

"Oh, hell yeah! There's my sugar ass-" Wade grinned at you, and you just rolled your eyes and planted a big kiss on his bald forehead. Thank god, he'd stopped wearing that dumbass hair. It made him look like a social studies teacher. And not a good one - like one of the ones that just took the job so that he could coach the JV boy's soccer team, and he's not even very good at that. Anyway.

Wade wrapped an arm around you, and you adjusted yourself on his lap, hazarding a glance over at the man sitting next to him. His eyes flit from Wade to you, then to Wade again, brow scrunched a little closer together than when you'd first seen him.

"Wolvie, meet my little discord kitten. And you-" he broke the fourth wall, just to look you straight in the eyes. "This, is the big bad wolf. Er-ine. Yeah. Yeah, that works."

"Wade," you replied, trying not to think about the fact that he just looked into your eyes like you were a camera on the Office. "You never told me you were bringing home a third. I would have brought the nice strap."

The man - Wolvie? Wolverine? Whatever - choked on his beer, and shot Wade a confused, accusatory glare.

"What about the-"

Wolvie gestured in the direction of Vanessa, and Wade's eyes widened, his mouth actually fell open. And this time, it wasn't fake or sarcastic shock, but actual, genuine emotion.

"Oh, no no no - that metal skull of yours really is dense, isn't it, peanut?" He knocked on Wolvie's forehead with way more force than he would use on any normal human, and the man batted Wade's hand away like a pissy tom cat, lip curled over his teeth in a growl.

That was. Hot. Ok.

Wade continued talking anyway - as he always did.

"No, Vanessa? Lovely lady, don't get me wrong - but that ship sailed loooong ago, my temporally-challenged friend," Wade sighed, squeezing the arm that was around your shoulder. "No - that relationship was, as the kids say - 'lacking in communication and emotional openness' - oh, and she made me feel like chicken shit for not being a superhero!"

"Babe, you did that to yourself," you shook your head at him. Really - Vanessa and Wade had just grown apart. She'd looked into more gainful employment, and Wade had followed, struggling to integrate into whatever the fuck "proper" society was. What really happened was that Wade blamed himself for her death and tied way too much of his self-worth to their relationship. And Vanessa - well, she just didn't feel safe with him anymore. It wasn't her fault; it was the PTSD. But it still hurt him. It was better for the both of them to part ways. You always knew Wade still held a torch for her, but you didn't mind much in a relationship sense. You were polyamorous - your man loving multiple people didn't bother you. What did matter was the fact that for Wade's mental health - or what little of it remained - he shouldn't be trying to get with that woman again.

"Yeah! I know! I was getting to that - shh," he pressed a finger to your lips and you kissed it, which made him go "aww" before returning to his rambling. "Anyway, while I was on this beautiful journey of self-discovery, I realized so many things, buttercup."

He sighed, cupping your cheek. "The Avengers are absolute booty ass - without their mainstay former drug addict, I'm afraid they lost out on the crowd of little white girls that want to fuck older men, and we all know that demographic is vital to the longevity of a franchise. Furthermore, the Honda Odyssey fucks hard, which means I have to re-examine my vehicle-related inherent biases. Oh, and also - I'm not a hero. Can't pretend to be some kind of 'normie.' So I'd rather be a freak with the rest of the rejects."

Wade gestured to the rest of the party, and your grin widened, arms wrapping tight around his neck and pulling him in for a stupid, sloppy kiss. God, that's what you'd been trying to tell him for goddamn ages. Thank fuck, the whole multiverse just had to be threatened for him to realize it. You should have expected it - that's just kind of how men are.

Wolverine cleared his throat, and you pulled away, patting Wade on the chest. The older man looked at the both of you with trepidation, like he might be interrupting something. Your heart skipped a little - he really did like Wade, didn't he? Well -

"That's great, baby," you patted Wade's cheek. "Glad you had to experience whatever is closest to death for you to realize what's really important. That's so incredibly healthy and absolutely viable in the long-term."

Wolvie chuckled, grinning at both you and your boyfriend. Oh no - not only was he hot, he was pretty. That stupid little cat ear hair wasn't helping, especially not when he was laughing at your joke.

You took the opportunity to raise your leg just enough to brush your calf along the inside of his knee, and his eyes immediately flicked to yours, smile faltering as he calculated whether to lean into it or shy away.

"Thank you, I so appreciate you, baby-boo-" Wade nuzzles his nose against your cheek and you giggled, biting your lip to quell your laugh as you tried to watch both boys. "But if I remember correctly, before we went on this plot-hole addressing rant, you said something about the good strap?"

He waggled his hairless brows, and your gaze flicked between the two of them again - Wade, eager and grinning; Wolvie, tense and most certainly blushing.

"Yeah," you sighed dramatically, waving your hand in the direction of the refreshments table. "Unfortunately, the food at this party isn't bottom friendly. Shame."

"Fuck!" Wade cursed, head snapping forward in frustration. "I knew Peter forgot something! That insensitive metrosexual!"

You snorted, shook your head as your gaze pulled to Wolverine, you dragged your leg just a little higher.

"Oh, don't worry about it. If your friend here wants, we could recreate your favorite Lonely Island music video."

Said friend's brow knit, his jaw clenched as he tilted his head ever so slightly to the side, as if you'd translate your Wade-speak for him.

Thankfully, your boyfriend did it for you, with an exaggerated gasp for comedic effect.

"3-Way (The Golden Rule) (Featuring Lady Gaga & Justin Timberlake)?" He cried, leaning over so that he could smush his face closer to yours. You waggled your eyebrows suggestively.

He all but squealed, kicking his feet to the point where he almost launched you straight out of his lap.

"You hear that, Logan-boy? It won't even be gay - with a honey in the middle there's some leeway," he gestured to you dramatically, jazz-hands and all.

"It might be a little gay," you whispered in Wolvie - Logan's? - direction.

Either way, it seemed like something one of you said made the poor man short-circuit. He was just looking at the two of you like Wade was regrowing a baby head.

"It is, like, a genuine offer," you clarified for him. "We're not fucking with you - well. Wade's always fucking around."

"Oh, but I am so serious about this, babygirl. Wanna find out if that 207th bone is also adamantine, let me tell you-"

"Shut your whore mouth," Logan hissed at Wade, and you heard the man's teeth click as Wade's jaw snapped shut. What?

"Hey, did he just listen to you when you told him to shut up?"

Logan raised an eyebrow, but gave you a curt nod as answer. Your head whipped from one man to the other.

"You two definitely fucked already!"

"Oh-"

"What did he tell you?" You cut in, finger raised as Wade tried to speak. His eyes widened, and his lips closed like he had no control over them. Your jaw fell open. You turned to Logan like he was some kind of evil sex magician. Which - maybe he was. Or maybe that was a different man from the same movie that no one knows how to write because someone actually gave him an accurate accent. How would you know?

"We didn't fuck," Logan clarified. "We fought. Hard."

"It was the only way around the Hays Code censor!" Wade cut in, words spilling out like he only had a few seconds before Logan shot him another look that had his mouth shutting and his pants tightening.

You rolled your eyes. "Sweetie, the Hays Code was abolished in 1968," you patted his cheek like you were talking to a child.

"Tell that to the mouse!"

"Well," you did your best to get this trainwreck back on track. "Anyway. What do you think, hmm?"

You directed your question at Logan-Wolvie-Wolverine. It was so hard to learn somebody's actual name when Wade just threw nicknames out like candy.

But still, the man frowned, lips pursed as he considered the proposition. His lips twitches as he swirled the bottle of beer in his hand, like he could find the answers in the foam that swelled there. He shook his head, then took a sip, smacking an "ah" before the bottle hit the table with a thump.

"Eh. What the hell."

Oh. Fuck. Yes.

[kiss-me-cill-me]

Follow Me Down

Pairing: Robert Fischer x Reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Summary: Dealing with Robert's advances feels like a full time job in itself. When he finally pushes you past your breaking point at a company party, you decide that it's time to teach him a lesson.

Warnings: Smut, hate sex, semi-public sex, mean reader, pushy/bratty Robert, kind of switch!Robert, S&M themes, oral (f receiving), face sitting, high heel kink, spit kink, choking, non-consensual creampie, name calling (including one use of "bitch"), workplace harassment, degradation, misogyny, mentions of drinking/alcohol, reader insults Robert by suggesting that he would spike her drink (but it does not actually happen)

A/N: Are New Year's Eve fics a thing? If not, they should be haha. I love New Year's Eve, so as a little early present, please enjoy this piece of absolute filth. Title was inspired by George Taylor's song Come Follow Me Down, which I listened to on repeat while writing the smut portion of this. Thank you for reading, and I'm wishing you all a great start to 2024!

***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***

Robert Fischer was the kind of man who had everything handed to him in life, and it showed. He was petulant, unserious, and thoughtless. Or at least, mostly thoughtless; he did possess the very annoying ability to badger the living hell out of someone in order to get what he wanted. And tonight, as was so unfortunately often the case, the focus of his one-track mind was you.

He was trailing after you now, either oblivious to or willfully ignorant of the look of annoyance plastered over your face as you tried to lose him. He barely had to hurry to keep up.

“Don’t be shy asking for my help with closing that big merger if you need it,” he told you.

You grimaced. You knew how to do your job.

“Robert, let’s not talk about work while we’re off the clock,” you said shortly, trying to make your voice as sweet as possible so that he wouldn’t have an excuse to comment on your tone.

You were at the company’s New Year’s Eve party. Ostensibly, this was the last of (too many) excuses littered throughout the year for the big wig executives to drink expensive booze and make fools of themselves on the company dime. And, annoyingly, it was also yet another opportunity for Fischer to try and sleep with you. 

“Okay. Let me get you a drink then,” he offered.

You decided you were done being sweet. You stopped and turned on your heel to face him.

“I wouldn’t leave you alone with my drink for two seconds, much less accept one you’d gotten your grubby little mitts on,” you hissed.

Robert made no indication that he understood what you were insinuating. Instead, he rested a hand on your waist, tugging you just a bit closer to him.

“Then I’ll escort you to the bar,” he said. “And I’ll even keep my hands on you, so you’ll know that I haven’t touched your drink.”

He was disgusting. 

“Why don’t you escort yourself?” you shot back, shaking out of his grip.

You were abstaining from drinks tonight, wanting to keep your wits about you just in case Robert tried to get too handsy. Or, handsier than he usually was. This was a fairly frequent occurrence, and although you were used to it, it still pissed you off. Robert was nothing you couldn’t handle, but the arrogant rich boy attitude got old quick. It annoyed you that you couldn’t say anything without risking the job you had worked so hard for. Unlike him, you hadn’t been born into a world that put you automatically on a pedestal. On the contrary, it often felt like people were trying to kick you off the ledge.

Robert was walking behind you again, thankfully keeping his hands to himself even as he hovered at your heels, and you walked deeper into the party. All around you, drunken coworkers reveled and laughed. There was only about one hour left in the year, and by god the company was going to spend it drinking enough champagne to kill an elephant.

“Come on,” Robert called behind you, still trailing. “Don’t you know how to take a joke?”

You ignored him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response. As you wove your way through the crowd, one of the higher-ups signaled to you. 

You jumped at the opportunity, hoping that Robert would at least have the common decency to leave you be while you were talking to a man who was essentially your boss. But of course, rules and manners didn’t apply to Robert Fischer like they would to anyone else. As you talked with the executive about mergers and acquisitions, Robert stood directly behind you. Practically breathing down your neck. You had to bite your tongue when he placed a hand on the small of your back again. What the hell did he think he was doing?

After a few minutes, the higher-up - slightly intoxicated - excused himself and wandered off, leaving you alone again with the man who was quickly becoming the bane of your existence.

“Robert-” you started to bark.

“God, you’re sexy when you talk business,” Robert interrupted.

You were facing him again, his arm still wrapped around you possessively. You caught a whiff of bourbon on his breath. He certainly wasn’t drunk, but the alcohol had clearly loosened his tongue. Usually he wasn’t this forward. You frowned.

“And you’re an unprofessional prick.”

Your outburst almost seemed to shock you more than it did Robert. His expression never faltered, except to allow a small smirk to spread across his lips.

“Sweetheart, don’t flatter me like that,” he teased. “A pretty girl like you could give a guy like me ideas.”

He raised his eyebrows at you as he said “ideas,” lowering his voice a bit. You got the message.

“I’m sorry if I was unclear,” you said, trying not to speak through clenched teeth. “But the only idea I want to give you is to leave me the hell alone.”

Robert put his hands up, pretending to look wounded. Or maybe he was going for shocked. As if you hadn’t made it abundantly clear already just how uninterested you were. He took a step back, to your relief.

“Okay, I can see you need some time to cool off,” he relented. Finally, you were getting somewhere. “But can you really blame me for getting mixed signals?”

You had no idea what Robert was talking about, until he started pointing above him. Your eyes trailed up, and you saw for the first time a little sprig of mistletoe, hanging in the hallway. A leftover from the company’s Christmas decorations. Of all the places you could have been standing… When you looked back at Robert, your mouth was a thin line.

“What are you, twelve?” you asked. 

He just smiled. 

“Christmas is over, Robert,” you said coldly.

As you started to walk away, he called after you.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying!”

Fischer was right about one thing - you did need some time to cool off. Being around him made your skin crawl. It made you feel like you needed a shower and a guzzle of holy water, just to exorcize any lingering traces of him from your system. A gin and tonic would probably have at least some of the same effects. And you were craving one, but you reminded yourself that you needed to stay sharp. Robert had left you alone for now, but it was only a matter of time before he would be back. You settled for just the tonic.

Rubbing your head as you walked through the party, horribly bitter drink in hand, you wondered why you had even bothered to come. So much of what you did was for the sake of appearances. Anything to claw your way ahead. Though of course, even you had limits. Sleeping with Fischer would, ironically, probably end in a boon to your career. But you definitely weren’t about to let yourself sink to that level. 

You looked down at your gin-less tonic, twist of lime bobbing lazily in the bubbles. Why were you even drinking this? It certainly wasn’t for the taste. You dumped the rest of your drink in a potted plant, and set the empty glass down on a table.

This party was a total drag. But, you figured, at least you wouldn’t have to go far to find a little solitude. One of the benefits of working for an insanely wealthy company like Fischer Morrow was that even mid-level employees like you got extravagant offices. Your high heels clicked against the tile as you strode off, eager to leave the maddening din - and Robert Fischer - behind.

You reached your office door, and instantly knew that something was off. Behind the frosted windows, you could tell that the lights were on. The party was on the floor below yours; there should have been nobody up here, much less in your private office. Maybe it was just one of the cleaners, working late. Well, no problem. They would be easy enough to get rid of, and then you could regroup and prepare yourself for the remainder of a night full of fending off Robert’s advances. You pushed open the door.

Really, you should have seen this coming. Of course it wasn’t going to be this easy to get rid of him.

“Robert,” you sighed. You took in the sight of him, sitting in your swivel chair and looking very pleased with himself. “Do I really have to ask you to get out of my office?”

“Not if you don’t want me to,” he taunted, effortlessly throwing your own words back at you. He winked, and you narrowed your eyes.

You walked over to your desk, large and shiny with a stained walnut finish. It was an expensive piece of furniture, and one that Robert somehow managed to look right at home sitting behind. As if he owned the place. Which was closer to the truth than you particularly liked to think about. 

“Why do you enjoy doing this?” you asked, not expecting a real answer.

“I just like getting a rise out of you,” Robert said.

It sounded strangely honest. You leaned over your desk, staring down at him. Trying to size him up.

“You’re very mean when you want to be,” Robert continued, almost observationally.

You weren’t sure where he was going with this. Sure, you could be mean. It was part of the reason why you’d achieved the position you were in now; you didn’t advance in business by being a pushover.

Robert, you noticed, was currently staring down the front of your dress. You scrambled to stand up, and crossed your arms over your chest. The little pervert wasn’t even trying to hide it. You circled the desk, coming to rest on the side where Robert still sat, watching you calmly. You silently willed him to get out of your chair; to leave your office and give you twenty seconds of peace. He didn’t, of course, and so you took a seat on the desk, crossing your legs and tapping one foot in the air.

“So, what? Do you get off on me being mean to you or something?” you pressed.

Robert shrugged, neither confirming nor denying. For some reason, that infuriated you even more. You hated his smug face; that little smirk he was wearing right now that meant he was getting what he wanted. You had the sudden urge to slap him. Maybe that would teach him a lesson.

“And what about you?” Robert asked. “What do you get out of this?”

“Me?!” You were incredulous. “Christ. What could I possibly be getting out of putting up with you constantly bothering me?”

Robert shrugged again, and your desire to slap him grew.

“Maybe you get off on it too,” he guessed. “Being mean, that is.”

“You think I get off on doing this?” you scoffed. “Do you ever think about anything besides sex?”

“You’re the one who brought up getting off; not me.”

You were really going to lose it. You could barely see Fischer sitting in front of you now for all of the angry red that was swirling through your vision. He thought he could walk in here, sit at your desk, and then tell you you got off on being mean to him? He didn’t know how mean you could be.

“What’s your end goal with all this, Robert? You really think you’re gonna get to live out whatever twisted fantasy you’ve made me a part of in that sick little head of yours?”

“Maybe,” Robert said nonchalantly. You could feel him undressing you with his eyes.

“Yeah? What are you hoping to do to me?” you prodded. You didn’t care what you were saying anymore; you were way past the point of professionalism. “Probably tie me up and watch me try to fight you off, right?”

Robert looked up at you very calmly, holding your angry gaze as he answered you.

“I’d rather have you step on me with those heels,” he said.

You were taken aback.

“Excuse me?”

“I said: I want you to step on me with those slutty little stilettos you keep waving in my face,” he repeated.

You froze. One foot was braced against the drawers of your desk, and the other was poised in the air, hovering just in front of Robert’s knee as he sat in your chair.

“What’s the matter?” Robert asked. “I warned you you’d give a guy like me ideas, didn’t I?”

Part of you was in shock. This was not how you had expected this interaction to go. But another part of you - a corner of your mind that you didn’t even want to acknowledge - really was turned on by the idea of putting him in his place. You grinned.

“What makes you think I’d do that for you?” you hummed, mocking him.

Before he had a chance to respond, you lifted your foot and pressed the sharp point of your heel against the fleshy part of Robert’s shoulder. His expensive suit jacket started to crease. You pushed your heel in a little more, pushing him back just an inch.

Robert’s eyes started to wander, trying to sneak a look under your dress as you sat in front of him, your leg lifted up to press into his shoulder. 

“You’re a pig,” you told him, shifting your foot so that it was in the middle of his chest. 

The new angle made it a little harder for him to get a peek, with your legs more pressed together. Robert’s eyes drifted back to your face, a look of restrained amusement dancing across his own features. He was trying to play it cool, but you noticed the way his fingers dug into the chair’s leather armrests.

“Just another pretty boy in a suit,” you continued, inching the toe of your shoe up toward his collar. 

The point of your heel was right over his sternum, and Robert started to smile. He really was enjoying this, and the realization both repulsed and aroused you.

“Think you can take whatever you want. You need to be put in your place.”

You pushed back with your foot, making Robert’s chair roll a few inches so that you had space to stand up between him and the desk. You planted one foot on the floor, and the other directly over his crotch, pressing in with the dull toe of your shoe. The point of your heel rested on the chair in front of him, between his slightly parted legs. You weren’t trying to impale the poor man, but the devious look that Robert fixed on you as you towered over him almost made it look like he would have preferred if you did.

“Told you y’get off on being mean,” he teased.

You grabbed hold of his tie and pulled his face closer to yours as you looked down at him.

“Robert, if you think this is what a woman looks like when she gets off, I have some very bad news for you. Why don’t you show me what that pretty mouth is good for?”

You pushed away from him, climbing back up on the desk and spreading your legs. The tight black dress you wore rode up your thighs, and Robert instantly dropped to his knees in front of you. He hooked a finger into the crotch of your panties, using it to drag them to the side until you were on display for him.

“You can deny all you want,” he mocked, “but you wouldn’t be this wet if you really didn’t enjoy it.”

“Jesus. Stop talking,” you ordered.

You shoved his face between your legs, and his tongue eagerly came out to lick at you. You were wet - there really wasn’t any denying it - but you didn’t need him pointing out that fact as if he weren’t the one desperately lapping at your cunt. Robert was the pathetic one here; you were really just going along with things to teach him a lesson. If he wanted you to walk all over him, you would make sure he regretted ever crossing paths with you. And if you happened to get off while doing it - well,  you'd just chalk that down as some much-needed stress relief. Dealing with Robert was exhausting.

You hooked your legs over his arms, pinning him in place as he balanced himself against the desk. As much as you hated to admit it, he was good at this. Very good. His tongue was lavishing you; his blue eyes never breaking contact with yours as he ate you out. The way he was looking up at you felt dirty and yet dangerously addicting, all at the same time. Your hand tangled in his hair, pulling him even closer as your breath hissed through your teeth. Abruptly, you pulled him away.

“Get on the desk,” you commanded, a little out of breath.

Robert stood up, wiped his smug face, and started to climb up onto the desk.

“On your back.”

He laid down, swinging his feet up so that he was fully spread out across the hard surface. You reached up under your dress to remove your panties. Having him hold them to the side was only getting in the way.

You carefully got up on the desk with him, knees resting on either side of his face.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” you scoffed, half for your own benefit.

“Think of it this way,” Robert smirked beneath you. “Isn’t it gonna make you happy to wipe this smile off my face?”

“I thought I told you to shut up.”

You sat down, putting almost your full weight on his face. Robert reached up to grab hold of your thighs, supporting you, and you were actually grateful for it even though it gave him an opportunity to grope at your ass. Your legs were getting weaker every second, and you could feel yourself tipping over the edge.

Part of the thrill was from being in such a compromising position. Before, if someone had walked in, there was a chance that Robert could stand up and you would be able to smooth down your dress in time to avoid getting caught. But now… well, riding a man’s face as he was splayed out on the desk beneath you was a little harder to recover from, logistically.

You ground your hips down, so tantalizingly close to coating his face in your release. Robert seemed to sense your urgency, and dug his fingers into your flesh, practically begging for it. His tongue dragged roughly across your clit, sucking with just the right pressure.

Your mouth hung open as you came, at first frozen in a silent scream and then moaning, sinfully, as an orgasm rolled over you. You seemed to shake from your shoulders down into your knees, and Robert’s tongue lapped up all of your arousal. He pressed his lips to your clit one final time as you slid off of him. 

When your hips were straddling his, Robert sat up to hold you. His hands were hungry, grabbing at your waist as he tried to pull you closer and into a kiss.

“No kissing,” you choked out, putting a hand on his chest to stop him.

Robert didn't try to push past you, just paused and looked up at you with light, teasing eyes.

“Come on, sweetheart. It's New Year's Eve. You're not gonna give me a kiss at midnight?” 

You swallowed, not trusting your shaky voice to respond without giving him more fuel to taunt you with. He didn't need it.

“Even after you already let me wrap my lips around your pretty cunt?” 

Your hand on his chest pressed down, pushing him back onto the hard wood. Robert smiled again, proud of himself for getting to you. He really did know how to wind you up.

“You’re such a typical rich boy,” you spat. “So used to getting anything you ask for.”

“Usually I don’t even have to ask,” Robert corrected.

“Right. Other women just throw themselves at you?” You felt your hatred flare.

He gave you that knowing look again, but kept his smirking mouth shut. You noticed the way your arousal still glistened against his lips. The whole lower half of his face, actually, was drenched, and the sight of it sent a pang of renewed desire all through you.

Suddenly, Robert’s grip tightened at your waist. He bunched up the fabric of your dress, exposing you a little more, and forced you down onto his leg. 

“Use me to get yourself off.”

Already impatient, his hands had started to pull at your hips, making you rock back and forth. The cloth of his suit pants brushed roughly against your exposed clit, still sensitive from his earlier treatment. But still, it felt good. Too good.

“Robert-”

You had opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off.

“Mm, say my name, baby.”

He was so full of himself. Something snapped in you, and your hand flew up to his neck. As your grip tightened, Robert only threw his head back.

“Honestly, do you ever shut up?” you spat.

Despite yourself, your hips started to stutter against him, desperate to rub harder as the pressure started to build in you again. For whatever reason, you found yourself going along with Robert’s demands once more. Your hand on his neck squeezed.

“You really do get everything you want,” you hissed, teeth clenching against the ache that was rapidly growing between your legs.

“Not true,” Robert choked out beneath you. His voice was straining from your grip, but you could still hear the hint of satisfaction. “I haven’t gotten to stick it in you yet.”

Your walls clenched around nothing, and you hated how his words could affect you. You angrily took it out on him, pressing the hand on his neck down even harder. Robert hissed out through his teeth, then dissolved into a rough cry of pleasure. 

“Fuck," you gasped.

Your grip loosened, suddenly, as a wave of ecstasy came crashing over you for the second time. It was unexpected and fast, taking you by such surprise that you fell forward on the desk a little, caging Robert’s face with your arms. Your stomach churned with embarrassment as the feeling faded, and you realized that just the sound of his voice had been enough to push you over the edge.

You looked down, and saw Robert’s eyes full of mirth. His face was flushed, blood rushing back now that your hand was off him. A few strands of hair stood out of place against his forehead. Honestly, he was a mess; clothes all wrinkled and normally-neat red tie knocked askew. You could feel yourself dripping. His very expensive suit pants were probably ruined. Although, that was really his problem.

“Tell me again how you don’t get off on being mean?” Robert rasped below you.

You were panting, and clearly in no position to answer him. But even if you had been able to speak, you certainly weren’t about to tell him that it had been his animalistic moan that really made you come. Robert started to sit up a little, keeping one arm around your waist.

“You hate me so much.” Robert’s voice was still slightly hoarse, but there was that tone of amusement, as usual. 

“Poor little rich boy.”

It was all you could think to say, still trying to recover from two orgasms back to back. Robert gave you a look that was almost pitying.

“When are you gonna admit that you’re just jealous?” Robert purred.

You gave him a look of disgust, hoping your scowl would communicate everything that you couldn’t verbalize. Your head was still reeling, dizzy from the rush.

“You think you’re better than everyone else just because you have to scramble to get ahead? Please. You wish you had it as easy as me.” Robert’s hands came up to grasp at your wrists, holding you in place as he brought his lips close to yours. “But lucky for me, you’re not above sleeping your way to the top.”

Is that really what he thought this was? No. That wasn’t the reason for this. Inch by inch, Robert was bringing his lips closer to you. This bastard, thinking he understood you. Infuriated, you did the only thing you could think to do, and spit on him.

He stopped, but didn’t look particularly surprised. The trail of spit started to drip down his face, mixing on his cheek with the leftover sheen of your arousal. Calmly, Robert brought a hand up to his face and wiped off the efforts of your rebellion.

“I knew there was a reason I liked you, sweetheart.”

In the next instant, Robert’s hands were at his belt, nimble fingers working the buckle. You noticed for the first time how painfully stretched his pants were. He had to be in agony. But, you thought bitterly, that was probably exactly how he wanted it.

“Here - why don’t you spit on my cock?” he goaded, pulling himself out of his briefs.

Your eyes blew wide at the sight of him. That certainly explained the amount of confidence he had. You struggled to shoot back a response.

“In your dreams,” you muttered.

“Don’t be like that,” Robert chided, pouting a little bit.

As much as he liked to act, you could tell that he wasn’t really hurt. Someone as arrogant as Robert Fischer could never be truly bothered by anything. This was merely an inconvenience. He pinched your cheeks between his rough fingers, forcing you to look down at his dick with your mouth open. A long, wet rope of saliva fell from your lips.

“There, was that so hard?”

Robert’s pinching hand left your face as he brought it down to rub at his length, hastily working your spit over himself.

“This is for your benefit anyway,” he winked. “Don’t want it to hurt you too much.”

You watched, almost mesmerized, as he pumped himself a few more times. Satisfied, he stood up, taking you with him. Standing in your heels, you were almost as tall as him, and he looked directly into your eyes.

“Now, do you want me to fuck you over the desk, or up against the wall?”

You almost couldn’t believe his audacity. You glared at him, a heavy, electrical silence hanging between you.

“Tick-tock, sweetheart.”

“Go to hell, Robert,” you answered. 

“Well, then I guess we’re doing what I want.” He smiled. “How ironic.”

He lifted you up in one swift motion, and then your back was against the wall. The head of his cock was pressing into you, and the stretch was almost painful.

“So fuckin’ tight,” he hissed. “Just what I would expect from a stuck-up little bitch.”

His words stung, but not as much as the snap of his hips as he thrust into you, forcing a little whine out of your lips. You grit your teeth, trying to muffle your reaction.

“You squeeze me so good when you’re angry,” Robert laughed. “Fuck.”

His hands were digging into you, holding you up as he pulled out and then pressed greedily back in. Your head pushed back against the wall, overwhelmed by his size. 

“What’s wrong, baby? Too much for you?” he teased.

“You- wish-”

Your words cut off as Robert fucked sharply into you again, then paused. You wrapped your legs tighter around him, pulling his hips against you as you tried to hold yourself up. It only made him push deeper. 

“Fuck, Robert-!”

You cried out, interrupting yourself again, and felt his lips brush against your neck.

“I didn’t even move that time, baby,” he smirked. 

You couldn’t stand to see him so smug. Somewhere deep inside yourself, you found strength.

“W-what are you waiting for, then? Get to work, pretty boy.”

Robert grinned as he thrust into you, even more powerfully than before. You wanted to whimper, but bit your tongue. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“You really are something else,” Robert chuckled.

His pace had started to speed up, and now he was pumping in and out of you relentlessly, each thrust pushing you back against the wall. Your body had finally adjusted to his girth, and you were almost starting to enjoy the stretch. Not to mention the way that his head hit a certain spot inside of you, nearly making you fall apart every time he brushed against it.

You were finding it harder and harder to suppress your moans, and every now and then one would slip out of your tightly-pressed lips. Robert seemed to speed up every time he heard you whimper.

“Fuck!” you swore, as he hit a particularly deep spot.

“You take my cock so well,” he grunted. Even trying to keep his cool, it was clear that he was only seconds away from release. “Now let’s see how you take my cum.”

“Not… not inside,” you panted.

“Don’t- fucking- tell me what to do.”

“Don't fucking come in me!”

Pressed against the wall, your options for retaliation were limited. Your legs could do nothing but wrap around him; his hands stopping you from putting your feet on the floor. Your own hands were occupied gripping at the lapels of his suit, hanging on for dear life as he split you open. Really, the only available part of you was your mouth.

Your lips bruised hard against his, taking his bottom lip between your teeth and biting hard enough that you hoped it hurt. Robert let out a muffled growl against you, and you sank your teeth in more.

Somewhere far away, a clock chimed and the party below you surged drunkenly. Robert thrust his hips into you one last time, and then you felt him painting your walls; cum leaking out of you as he held you, still suspended in the air. As the buzzing in your head started to fade, you realized he was smiling against your lips.

You jaw relaxed just enough for Robert to pull himself away. His lip was bruised; angry red from where your teeth had scraped him. He was even more disheveled than he had been, and, somehow, even more satisfied with himself.

“Ended up giving me that kiss anyway,” he rasped, voice still heavy from exertion and lust. “And right at midnight, too.”

You felt your hatred surge again, weakly. You were exhausted; barely able to keep yourself upright when Robert finally set you on your feet. He stepped away, leaving you to tug down your dress and try to make yourself presentable. A very difficult task, considering you still had fresh cum leaking out of you. Your eyes quickly scanned the floor for your panties. You would not stoop to searching on your hands and knees for them. Not until Robert left your office, at least.

Robert finished zipping his pants and replacing his belt, shiny silver buckle clicking under his fingers. He tugged at his suit, barely making a dent in the wrinkles, and smoothed a hand over his hair.

“Well, I would say ‘same time next week,’ but I think it would be easier to pencil you in at lunch,” Robert joked. “Maybe we can finally have that drink before I take you back to my office. You’ll have a really nice view of the city while I fuck you against the window.”

You really couldn’t believe the nerve. Although, by now, it should have been easy to expect no less from Robert. You walked right up to him and planted a finger in the center of his chest.

“If you think I’m ever having sex with you again, you’re twice as delusional as I thought you were,” you huffed. 

Robert took one more long look at you, and shrugged.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

[buggyjuggie]

Could you do Johnny, Kitana, Kung Lao, Syzoth, and/or Smoke w/ a reader who has a Katya Zamolodchikova type personality/sense of humour? I'm talking pure chaos, but with a loving and caring vulnerable side. :)

──★ ˙ ̟ Johnny Cage, Kitana, Kung Lao, Syzoth and Smoke x GN!reader with a Katya personality

Note: I watched so much rupauls drag race just for this request because i was so scared of getting something wrong oh god i really hope you like it also @rueschronic you saved me i love you bitch

「 ✦ Kung Lao ✦ 」

* SHIT TALKING DUO

* you and Kung Lao are competitive and like to show off both of you can walk into any place and all eyes are on yall

* Both of you lift each other up as much as you can because you and Kung lao both know what it feels like to put on a character/facade or joke around people even when your hurting on the inside or try to hide it to appear fine

* When you called him queen he wore that like a badge of honour

* He picks up your vocabulary extremely fast and manages to confuse everyone around him

「 ✦ Johnny cage ✦ 」

* THE duo not a duo it’s THE duo

* I feel like Johnny has wanted to try out more ,,feminine” things but due to holywood and it being looked down upon he hasn’t yet until you gave him reality check and remined him that no one cares (bitch)

* Like Kung lao you and Johnny have that one thing in common: a character. Both of you act a certain way and have built a character to show off to people. People know ,,Johnny Cage” but do they know John Carlton. As more time passes you and Johnny start working on tearing those walls down and showing your true honest selves of course without loosing those confident attitudes

* Clubbing, going out, after party’s all the time most weekends will be endend with you and Johnny at his house not knowing how you got back home but not really needing to know because you’ll be too busy cuddling one another

* Has definitely asked you to be stunt performer because he knows that you can strut your shit like a its a performance

「 ✦ Kitana ✦ 」

* You captured Kitanas attention right away

* Kitana enjoys her status and work as a princess of Outworld but it does become dull at points. The people being careful around her, underestimating her and treating her almost like a porcelain doll

* Not you tho you treat Kitana like a normal person, tell her things honestly and aren’t afraid of what she can do

* Kitana is very observant she sees that you hide behind jokes and when she finally confront you about you let eveything out. All the toughts of self doubt, anxiety are washed away with promises from her to protect you and keep you safe for as long as she is alive

* A lot of time with Kitana and you is spent sparring or you telling her about Earthrealm, languages and culture (Kitana is prob a history nerd sue me)

「 ✦ Syzoth ✦ 」

* He was enamoured by you at first sight

* Because of his zetteran liniage Syzoth understands your struggles. Wanting to be yourself but the world rejecting it deeming it ,,too much” or even distasteful. He assures you to the best of his abilities that he’ll never leave you and will stay by your side no matter what

* ,,mother? But im a man” ,,slay ? Slay what ?” Her a little confused when it come to slang but slowly starts to understand it

* If you do drag or are interested in drag TELL IT ALL TO THIS MAN. Syzoth absolutely loves learning about earthrealm its cultures and norms and how people express themselves

* You insulted him once in a joking way and he didn’t understand that you were joking and it ended up in a hugs and kisses session for like 30 min and a long as hell explanation

「 ✦ Smoke ✦ 」

* The walking definition of polar opposites

* Smoke is quiet ,reserved and introverted meanwhile your loud, not afraid to make a scene and get dirty and extroverted

* ,,Excuse me he asked for no pickles” you say as Smoke stands in the background like a wet puppy

* Smoke is the only person who knows about your anxiety’s he does his best to assure that you are loved for who you are

* If you do nails he’s constantly asking you to do his. Smoke just really enjoys having pretty nails that match with his beautiful partner

*. ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

[lowkeyrobin]

Hello!! Wondering if you could do Quackity, Tommy, Tubbo, Charlie and Ranboo with an S/O who loves sewing? Sometimes they probably have to physically pulled away from the sewing machine while making something cause it's like, 3 am lol. But the sewing machine doesn't make alot of noise, so it wouldn't interfere with the others sleep

yeah of course! ; also sorry if this is wrong in any way, I don't sew lol but hopefully my knowledge on it was enough gang ; thanks for requesting, hope u enjoy!

MCYT ; sew, sew, so?

includes ; tommyinnit, ranboo, quackity & slimecicle

warnings ; language

masterlist

TOMMYINNIT

he usually wakes up for a 3am water / piss break

and just find you at your sewing machine

"why are you up at this hour?"

"sewing"

"come to bed, you can continue in the morning"

"fine"

he loves your little hobby tho

he loves when you fix up and practically make him new clothes

he's so appreciative of it

sew something new? he's wearing it on stream asap to brag that you fixed it up / made it

RANBOO

you made them a bunch of stars to hang from their ceiling in their stream room

they won't shut up about it on stream when someone asks lmao

"oh those? y/n made them for me!"

he catches you at your machine at like 4am sometimes cause he needs a midnight snack and tiredly stares at you like 🤨😒

"cmon, let's go to bed"

"ugh"

lovessss helping you find new fabric to work with

he tried sewing a little cloud plush... yikes

new experiences for everyone ig

ALEX QUACKITY

literallt can't even trust this man around your shit

he will find a way to sew up a deformed duck plush

but he really appreciates when you make stuff for him and will never stop bragging about it

"guys look I got a new shirt"

"it's ugly"

"don't insult my partners skills, asshole"

also loves trying to find new fabrics with you

half the time they lay around cause you don't know how yo use them

like how tf r u gonna use a fabric with a cat pattern all over it but the bg is NAVY BLUE.

he's always sending u pinterest inspo

you never knew he even had pinterest before he sent u the first couple 💀

CHARLIE SLIMECICLE

has to physically pull you away from your work at night

like god damn why are you so committed?

absolutely adores the things you make for him

he'll literally wear them out and beg you to fix them

he has so many little trinkets you've made for him too

you made him a whole ass blanket and it sits on the back of his desk chair for when it's cold

it's got all sorts of patterns from the scrap fabric you needed to use but he lovessss it

"im gonna use this blanket to suffocate you bitch!"

"wtf charlie"

"it will happen! put the ribeye BACK IN THE MICROWAVE."

[roturo]

Chishiya x reader where y/n is younger than chishiya and he teases her about it and they eventually fuck sknejrmtkrnf

TELL ME

“It seems like a dream, you’re loving me.”

CHISHIYA X AFAB! READER

Chishiya is 25 / Reader 19

WARNINGS: SMUT. SEMI-PUBLIC SEX. (Kinda enemies to lovers ¿? And fluff at the end)

You’ve been knowing Chishiya for a while now, mostly because both of you were on the same group and most of the time coincide. 

And it’s pretty obvious you have a crush on him.

But it’s not like you could go with him, ask him out, kiss him, and be boyfriend and girlfriend.

Why? Well, it’s simple: first, he’s like really distant with you. He barely talks! You tried to get closer to him, but it’s like he treats you like a little kid. You’re not a little kid! You’re now 19! And that’s already an adult. 

The only small talks both of you have? it’s insulting eachother!

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You said to him. Do I have something on the face?! You touched your face concerned that you might have some food… that’s so embarrassing. What if he’s laughing about you? Oh nonono.

"Sorry, force of habit. Staring at your stupid face, that is." This son of a bitch! Who does he think he is?! 

“Hey! Both of you. Stop fighting.” Kuina said, I don’t know how she’s been so patient to be spending time with both of you .

“He started it!” You exclaimed pointing at him.

“Has anyone ever mistaken you for being in middle school before?"

“What?” Kuina said,” “what does it have to do with-“

“Oh my god. I can’t stand you anymore Chishiya. Good bye.”

When you were leaving you just could hear him laughing and leaving a very confused Kuina. God… why his laugh is so pretty too?

But. As everything in excess becomes a bad thing, this teasing also become something bad.

Maybe it wasn’t teasing anymore? He might hate you. It’s like, he doesn’t even apologize and just ignores you! 

So, you decided to ignore him for a day, maybe you could see if he really cares about you. It made you really sad that the person that you loved in this world treats you this way. 

. -

“No, I don’t like her. She’s too loud and obnoxious and she’s still young to even understand what’s going on here. I don’t even know why did you accept her being in the group.”

Kuina was indeed schoked. She couldn’t believe Chishiya doesn’t like you. Like, yeah.. he’s not the best showing emotions but he’s not a bad person! Maybe he just needs a little push for him to start talking better to you.

“You’ve been an asshole to her. She’s done everything she can to like you! I don’t understand why you’re so mean to her.”

Am I too harsh? Shit. Maybe I should apologize..

“Whatever.”

. -

Now both of you were at the pool. You were having a nice day not until you saw him. He had his typical swim-trucks and his white jacket that showed just right his collar bone. Stop.

Both of you locked eyes, you couldn’t stop yourself from blushing. Even if you’re mad at him  he still made you weak. He gave you a small sign of ‘come here’ by moving his head slightly to the left.

How could you say no to him? He had you wrapped around his finger.

He lead you to a place far away from the pool where both of you could have some privacy, he seemed different. Was he nervous? Why is he playing too much with his hands in his pockets?

“Look… I just wanted to say-“

Before he could even talk more, you asked him “Those things you said yesterday.. do you mean it?”

Okay. He couldn’t do this anymore.

“I didn’t mean it like that… I was trying to.. tease you.” Because I love you.

“No way in hell. Are you blushing right now?!”  You couldn’t believe this, are you making him blush?! 

“Stop it. I’m not blushing. You’re just making things up.” This is too good to be true. He’s really blushing!

“It’s okay Chishiya, some times we get too far away, and I know you don’t mean it, it’s just that we don’t measure what we say. I already talked it with Arisu about this and-“

“Arisu? What did he said to you?” he interrupted you before you could finish your sentence.

“Umm..” 

. -

“No shit. It’s pretty obvious you have a crush on him..” He said looking at the map and the crossed the areas where you guys have played.

“Then what should I do?”

“Fuck him?”

“Arisu!”

. -

“It doesn’t matter what he told me.. Just so you know i’m not mad at you, I preferred having some distance with you since it’s like pretty obvious I annoy you, so I didn’t wanted to be-“

He shut you down by kissing you and grabbing you by the hips, making your bodies get closer and hotter each second passing.

You spent so many nights trying to hide how you feel, now you’re in this fantasy that you thought could never be real. 

And here you are, locking eyes, both with the same feeling and want. 

“You don’t know how much i’ve been waiting to kiss you. Every time you taunt me it only makes me want you more.” He pulls you again closer to him, you could feel how hard he was getting through his shorts. Detaching himself from your lips, he places open mouth kisses and bites across your shoulders. He lingers over the space between your collarbones, breathing in the scent of your skin along with the perfume.

“Please fuck me ‘taro” This still seems like a dream, you’ve waiting for this moment too long now. 

“You are incredibly beautiful.” He kisses down your neck while holding your arms. As he goes lower you kiss him back. He was so entranced by your everything, he didn’t even notice you pulling down his shorts. They pool at his ankles and he kicks them off, never separating from you. His hands drag down your backside to your thighs, motioning for you to turn around. Once you do, he kisses below your ear while taking off your bikini with his hands.

He spreads your legs with his feet, entering his fingers with no warning. As he pushes his fingers deep inside, you let out a yelp and look down. 

“Chis… chishiya I need you inside me” You moaned when his fingers got that specific place that your small fingers couldn’t reach.

You were about to come, and he could feel that when you’re clenching too hard into his fingers, so in one swift motion he enters inside you and both of you moaned at the feeling. Chishiya snakes his hand over your neck, using his fingers to tilt your head back up. 

The way his brows furrowed as he looked down to where he disappeared inside of you, the flex of his abdomen as he moved his hips, the sweat starting to surface all over his body, all of it made your body heat up.

A particularly rough stroke makes your knees buckle. Chishiya doesn’t let you fall. Instead, he uses his strength to keep you up. Both of you were not too far away from The Pool (but at a private space) but you couldn’t care less if they heard you moan. 

Each thrust makes you take in a breath, your moans and requests come out in stutters. Despite your state, he doesn’t slow down, keeping his fast pace to bring you both to the edge. 

As much as he wants you to come together, the way your walls keep squeezing him makes him want to release right then and there. He can feel your walls flutter, and the way your hips are lifting, trying to separate yourself from him; he knows you’re starting to come.

Both of you came at the same time with one specific thrust that made you see stars. 

He pulls out and helps you getting dressed again and try to seem the most presentable both of you can. You turn around to look him at the eyes. He looks so beautiful right now. His eyes are full of love. He wished you could see yourself like how he sees you. Because you’re perfect for him.

“Chishiya… please tell me, do I like you?”

“You’re the one for me, now and always. I’ll do whatever I can to see you again in the real world. I don’t like you. I want you. I love you.”

. -

“So you indeed fucked!” Arisu said, Kuina bursting out laughing.

Thank god the three of you were at his room because if Chishiya could see how red you are right now, he wouldn’t stop teasing you about it.

[thegnomelord]

17 with Phillip Graves I'm begging🙏

also I just found out about your account and your writing is so good what??? in love w your work

You have no idea how long I've wanted to do something with Graves but couldn't figure out what lol :D Play the game HERE.

Prompt: Oral as punishment.

CW: NSFW, sub Phillip Graves, GN reader but you get referred to as 'doll' but as far as I'm aware it's gn sooo, oral, feminization, semi-public sex, humiliation, cross dressing, mentions of masochism/pain play.

Phillip Graves is a fucking brat.

For weeks now he's been trying to rile you up, sitting next to you whenever you go to eat in the mess hall so his hand can safely wander beneath the table. He's all confident when he does this, laughing along with the other shadows like nothing's wrong, feigning worry when your breathing grows stuttered and heat ravages your skin as if the bastard's not unashamedly groping your crotch.

The little shit knows you won't react in public; he knows what he's doing.

And you know what he wants— the little masochist loves the humiliation of being brought over your knees like a boy as much as he craves the sting of your palm on his ass, the sharp bite of your belt leaving welts on his thighs, the lingering nibble of pain from healing bruises decorating his pale skin like paint flicked by a deranged artist —each lick of pain left by your hands is like a drop of a drug he's addicted to, each session leaving him needing more.

You know you've been indulging him for too long when pulling him into his office has victory sparkling in his eyes, goosebumps spreading across his skin like he's already expecting a slap to the face.

You don't reward him with what he wants. "You're a real menace." You growl, closing the door but leaving it unlocked. "Acting up like a little brat."

"Ah don't know what yer talking about Doll," Graves says smoothly, his eyes lingering on the door. "Just bein' my charming self." He notices you don't lock it, that self-preserving part of his mind catching on faster than he does; you're up to something.

"Sure you are." You grip him by the hair, your lips only an inch apart. "My baby girl just wants to be punished, right?" Tugging on his hair just enough to tease him with what he wants you quickly pull your head away when he attempts to kiss you, shoving a small bag into his hands. "Put this on." You suddenly say.

Graves blinks rapidly, heart stuttering at your words, and he's both worried and aroused by the look in your eyes; like an old trickster god. He looks down and reaches into the nondescript bag, careful as if you've stuffed a bear trap inside it, confusion flaring in his eyes when he feels soft fabric and softer lace.

"You've got to be kidding me-" He snaps sharply, almost insulted, ears and cheeks as pretty pink as the gstring and skirt he now holds in his hand. "-I don't- doll, I can't- I-"

"You can and you will." You cut off his sputtering, yanking on his hair to shut him up. "You wanted to be a brat, I'm treating you like one." Your eyes narrow, pointedly ignoring how your harsh voice has a shiver running down his spine. "Now quit bitching and put that on. Right here."

Graves opens his mouth to argue with a retort burning like hot coals on his tongue, but the self-preservation portion of his mind kicks in from one glance into your eyes and before he knows it he's dropping his pants, embarrassment flooding his chest at how his cock bobs to stand at attention.

"Slut." You huff when you notice he's gone commando again, "I wonder how much the others would like to know their commander's such a whore."

He bites his tongue to silence himself and to stop himself from whining as he slips the panties on, the soft dainty lace trapping his cock, the light pink color darkening the fading bruises on his legs. The skirt comes next, so short it doesn't cover anything, and Phill resists rubbing his thighs together when he sees his cock poke out beneath the skirt's frilly fabric.

"Look at you, pretty girl," You chuckle, reaching down to fondle his cock like he'd done to you, the mix of your rough grip mixed with the silky soft fabric of the panties forcing a moan out of his throat. "Ready to stop being a brat and be a good girl?"

"Yes, please-" Graves quivers, clutching your shoulders and moaning while you continue to grope him, only stopping when there's a prominent damp spot at his tip and swiftly taking your hand away. "Fuck, doll."

You ignore his whining, moving him to sit in his chair, using his jeans as an impromptu cushion for your knees as you get beneath his desk. "Now, you've still got work to do." Your words has dread bubbling in his chest and his cock twitching when you pull his chair close to his desk, throwing his naked legs over your shoulders so he can't roll away. "You're finishing your work, oh, and you don't get to cum."

"Fuck-" Graves sucks in a sharp breath as your lips tickle his tip through the panties, "An' if I do?" He can't help himself, needs to rile you up even as a blush crawls down his neck.

He feels you grin against his tip, nearly jumping out of his chair when you roughly grip his balls, the tight string of the panties pushing down the middle of them to make them more grabbable. "Then this little clit is getting stuck in a cage until I decide to forgive you." You chuckle, slowly and leisurely licking him from base to tip, adding your spit to the liquid soaking the fabric. "Now get back to work."

He roughly brushes a hand through his hair, tugging on the strands to get his focus back before his bleary eyes settle on the laptop. He tries to type a report, but he keeps missing letters because it's fucking hard; you're consistent in your inconsistency, switching up the way you pleasure him with your mouth each time he's beginning to get used to it— lapping at his shaft like a dog one second, lewdly sucking on the tip the next, breaking off periodically to bite his fading bruises or tease his hole.

And all the while you keep his cock trapped in the panties, the constant strain of wet fabric adding to the building pleasure in his gut. Your hands keep him still when he attempts to wiggle or squirm, leaving fingerprint bruises to reward him for staying still as you suckle on his length and pulling moans from his chest.

He forgets the door is unlocked, moaning and groaning and squirming at how your spit cools, sending shivers up his spine. His groin is wet with your spit, from the tip of his cock down to his hole, his muscles spasming beneath your fingers as his body tries to buck into your mouth.

He's breathing like a racehorse and barely able to finish one report out of a few hundred when there comes a sharp knock on the door, followed by "Commander Graves?"

Fear and arousal floods his veins, his eyes quickly falling to you, large like dinner plates as he remembers; "Doll-"

"What are you waiting for?" You ask, teasing and smug like he'd been the entire week. "Go on pretty girl, call them in." There's no room for argument in your tone, and Graves gulps, his thighs tensing around your head and clenching his teeth.

"Come in!" He says and thinks-hopes- his voice doesn't sound as shaky to the as it does to him. He keeps his focus on the laptop, whole body tense and ears straining to hear his door open and close, mentally following the shadow's movements. "Report." He says.

You choose this time to lightly nibble on his tip, but he manages to clamp his mouth shut and the shadow doesn't notice anything. They prattle on about several things that could have been sent as an email and all the while Graves is stiff as a board trying not to squirm, trying not to show how your hot mouth on his cock is affecting him.

"Are you alright sir?" The shadow asks, bringing attention how flushed he looks. Graves briefly catches your smug gaze as you purposely open your mouth to rest his leaking tip on your tongue, the panties wet with your spit and his precum.

"Peachy," He grinds out, fingers balled into fists in an attempt to keep from squirming when your thumb presses against his hole without penetrating, trying to make him break. "Dismissed." He says sharply.

"But sir-"

"I said dismissed." He growls, hopes and prays his voice doesn't crack, ears burning and refusing to look at the shadow because he's so close, his balls and cock twitching in your hands.

The shadow hesitates, almost leaning closer and Graves nearly flinches, beath catching in his throat; the shadow would only need to take a half-step to see the pink skirt and panties, and just the knowledge of that, of his shadows knowing how much of a whore he is, has more precum leaking from his tip.

"Yes sir," The shadow says and salutes before leaving. The door closes with a resounding 'click' bringing with it heaven and hell.

Graves slumps back into his chair as if he'd run a marathon, his breath of relief broken by a moan when you dig your nails into a bruise on his thighs. "Good girl," Your smooth praise has liquid pleasure flowing in his veins, your nails digging deeper into his bruises feeding his addiction for pain and building a second need for more humiliation. "Did so well for me."

"Doll, please, I need-" He whines, head falling back against the backrest of his chair and a pitiful sound escaping his chest when you pull your lips from his cock. "-please just let me cum, need to cum."

"Oh no, you're not done yet," You're like a devil between his legs, grinning up to him. "You've still got a few hours of work left."

"You're evil," He breathes out, but he's hopeless to submit, leaning in to reach his laptop, groaning when your lips return to his leaking tip, his belly tight with heat that he's desperate to hold off. "Alright, yes, sure-"

"Good girl." You press on his bruises and suck on his tip again, and maybe you'll let him cum in a few hours...

[reareaotaku]

I Loathe You [Mike's POV]

Loathe You & I Don't Wanna Be Your Friend, I Wanna Kiss Your Lips Summary: Mike has always had a strange feeling about you, but he's never really known why Pairings: Mean! Mike Wheeler x Mean! Reader Tw: Slight NSFW, First POV [I know, I hate it too] Taglist: @fxchild

"Jump off a cliff, you asshole."

"You first, princess." I roll my eyes, my face detorting in anger.

I didn't understand why the science teacher had paired us up, because I couldn't stand her & vice versa and everyone knew that. They always tried to make us get along, but there was just something about us that always ended up in fire. I felt weird around her and I hated the feeling; So, in turn, I hate her.

Granted, we shared the same group, job, and classes, it still wasn't enough to make us get along. I just couldn't stand her.

"Trust me, everytime I see you I hope to be shot execution style, but I also don't want your face to be the last thing I see."

Oh, that stung a little. I frowned, my eyebrows scrunching up, "Oh, don't worry," I turn to her, looking her dead in the eyes before tilting my head, "The feeling is mutual."

"Oh, isn't that great. For a second there I was worried you liked me."

"In your dreams." I spit out, feeling as if I had won.

"Only the scary ones."

Oh, that was kind of good, but I'd never admit that to her. All she needed was an ego boost; We all know it's already big enough. We are practically nose to nose, glaring at each other. Her nose was scrunched like a Who, but surely if looks could kill, I'd be dead with the way she was looking at me.

"God, can yall just fuck already and get over with it?"

I whip my head towards Lucas, frustrated. He always knew how to make everyone in a room angry and sometimes I was impressed.

"How about you fall down a case of stairs?"

"And break your arm over the ramps," I add, causing Lucas to put his hands up in defeat.

"Okay- Sorry, damn."

--

I could hear the group groan as I stare at the girl across from me. It was a staring contest and we were already almost an hour deep. I would never lose and have her insult me like a bitch, but if she were to lose- Well, my mind was racing with insults.

Staring at her made me realize she had nice eyes. They were a nice, cool, e/c. There was speckles of white from the light reflecting in her eyes and her outer pupil had a black outline that I could make out clearly. I liked her eyes... They were nice.

She blinks before my thought can get too gushy and I fistbump, "Haha! What a cockwhore," I smile causing her to groan and roll her eyes before demanding a rematch.

I knew the group had a slight suspicion that the group knew I liked looking at her, but I would never admit it. I hated the thoughts and the last thing I needed was them to know my dark secret. Maybe her competitive nature would come in my favor...

I don't even realize that I've blinked before a see a smirk on Y/n's face. I groan ass she cheers telling me that I get no pussy. I decide that I was tired of the silly game and go to my food when feeling my stomach rubble, but thankfully it didn't make an audible noise.

---

"We have a new hire."

I perked up at my managers words, before smiling, "Finally, I've been telling you for ages we need another server."

The tubby man gives me an annoyed look, before rolling his eyes, "She'll be starting in a few hours. I want you to train her."

"She?" I hadn't met to say it and I quickly covered my mouth as my eyes widened.

"Don't try anything, Wheeler."

"I wouldn't even think of it, Boss."

---

I watched as the clock ticked. The girl was supposed to be here any minute. I couldn't think of who it could be, but it was probably someone from school. The bell rung from the door and I turned around only for my mouth to drop-

"You've got to be fucking shitting me."

"Oh fuck. You work here?"

I groan before running a hand through your hair, "Out of all the places to work, you chose here?"

Y/n glares at me, "I could say the same thing to you."

I step up to her, before pointing at her chest, before taking it off when realizing I was to close to her tits, "I was here first, so if anyone should leave it's you. You can leave now actually and we could pretend this never happened."

"No way, you're not going to scare me away from a good job."

I feel my fist clench, but I turn away, "Whatever, come on, I guess I have to train you."

---

"I'm surprised you aren't fighting."

I sigh, clicking my tongue, "I'm here to get paid, not fight with her."

Lucas leans on his hand, smiling, "Oh? You know," He looks over at Max, "Don't you think Y/n looks good in that uniform? Maybe you'd look good, too?"

"Don't push it," She gives him a knowing look and Lucas quickly shuts up.

I look back at her, like really look at her. She did kind of look nice- When she wasn't frowning, which she was. Though, if you ignored that, she looked kind of angelic. The light shaped her face while her hair sweeped around her. I shake my head, quickly ridding myself of the thoughts.

"What do you think, Mike?"

"What?" I look at Lucas confused

"What do you think of Y/n in her uniform?"

"She's fine- I mean, it's a uniform, she has to wear it, so it's not anything special. It's just some clothes."

"Right... Just some clothes," Lucas looks over at Max, who was already giving him some knowing look.

"What? Why did you both look at each other like that?"

Lucas holds his hand out in surrender, "Nothing! I swear!"

"So, do you guys want the usual?"

"Yeah," Max hands me her menu, before I write it down on my little notepad.

Though, as I'm writing I hear Lucas mumble under his breath.

"Some clothes you want her to take off,"

"What did you say?" I push, causing Lucas' eyes to widen and he quickly shakes his head.

"Nothing! I didn't say anything."

"I heard you!" I lean in when realizing that Y/n was looking at me. She probably thought I was a mad man. Besides, I didn't want her to hear me "I. Do. Not. Want her to remove her clothes. In fact, I want her to put more on, so I don't have to see all her skin."

"Man, if you say so." Max rolls her eyes, pushing some hair out of her face

"It's okay, Mike. We all go through the denial stage."

"I am not in denial."

"Of course you're not."

I roll my eyes, before flipping him off and going to the kitchen to put in the order. I head towards the back, passing the girl of the hour. She was scrubbing the counter, obviously frustrated. It seemed had accidentally poured syrup on the counter. I looked her up and down while her back was turned and I realized something. The uniform did look good on her, but I was biased I liked her in everything.

I frowned when the thought entered my mind and I looked away from her. I groan, accidentally crushing the ticket in my hand. I look down before facepalming. I am such an idiot.

---

My back was turned and it all happened so fast. One minute Y/n was fine and the next she was on the floor with the Demogorgon standing over her. I didn't even think when I grabbed a pipe and hit the back of the creatures head, effectively causing it to retreat.

"Y/n- Y/n," I grab her arm, where a large wound was. Something inside me stirred and if that creature hadn't retreated, I don't know what I would have done, but I would have done bad. Like killed it by beating it over and over. I picked her up, before bringing her to my car. As I sit in the driver seat, I glance at her through the rearview mirror. I feel my fist clench around the wheel, but I take a deep sigh before shaking my head.

---

I sat her down on the toilet before I started digging through the cabinets, looking for the First Aid Kit.

"Ugh, what happened?"

I look back at her, before frowning, "You were knocked out... you know, by the Demogorgon."

There's a moment of silence, before I finally found the kit. I smile to myself, before taking it out and grabbing her arm to fix her up. I hear her grimace in pain and I let out a quick apology. As I clean her up, I feel weird. Just earlier today we had been going at each other like wild dogs, but now here I was patching her up.

"I'm sorry, Mike."

I look up at her, confused. I tilt my head, "What?"

"I'm sorry. For everything. All the fights, all the arguments you know-"

"It's fine," I interrupt. "I kind of look forward to our fights. You know? It's become routine." I joke, wrapping her arm up. I smile looking at my work. God, I'm good.

"Well, I'm sorry and thank you for patching me up."

"It's nothing..."

It went quiet... Too quiet... I had to break the silence. I didn't necessarily know how, but I couldn't stand the silence. So, I decided to tell her how I felt.

"You know, when I saw you..." I pause. I look at her, my brows scrunching together, "bleeding... I think I died a little when I saw it. Something inside of me- I don't know, but I wanted to kill that stupid Demogorgon." I grab her hand, fiddling with it, "I don't want to see anything bad to happen to you."

"Wow, Mike. I didn't know you felt that way about me."

"Of course. You're my friend." The word friend comes out like acid from my mouth. I didn't want to be her friend- Not anymore- I wanted to so much more, but seeing the circumstances, it was probably best to keep it to myself

"We're friends?"

I huff, frowning at her words, "Yeah. At least I think we are."

"Huh, I thought you hated me-"

I look at her, wide-eyed, "Hate you? I thought YOU hated me-"

"You're always hating on me," She says, over exaggerating her non hurt hand.

I smirk, before letting out a chuckle, "What? I'm only returning your energy!"

She rolls your eyes, looking away from me, "Yeah... If we were friends, I think I'd miss our fighting."

"Who says we have to stop fighting?"

I see a smirk grow on her face, "Yeah, if stopped fighting everyone would question it."

"Right. The last thing I want is for them to be like 'So you guys finally fucked?'" I air quote before rolling my eyes. I smile when she laughs at my joke.

"Yeah, that would be pretty annoying, huh?"

---

I felt weird around her. Things were different and I'm sure everyone could sense it. She was acting weird as well, which didn't help the anxiety that was slowly building inside of me. I decided to approach her to see if she okay.

"Hey, are you okay?"

She seems to snap out of it as she looks at me. "Uh-Yeah- Yeah, I-uh yeah, I'm fine."

"Are you sure? You seem a little out of it." I frown, concern filling my voice. She wasn't being herself and it was bothering me.

"Yeah," She crosses her arms, avoiding eye contact. "Everything's fine."

I wasn't an idiot. I knew everything wasn't fine. I didn't know if I should push it, but it was seeming she didn't want to talk about it. I look over at her arm seeing the bandages were clean, "Your arm looks better," I reach for her arm, lightly caressing the bandages. She pulls back, causing me to frown. Did I do something wrong? I sigh, looking around the empty restaurant, before I look back at her, "Come on, let's close up and I'll drive you."

---

I tap the wheel, enjoying the silence. I felt at peace, but the thought of her acting different started to plaque my mind again. I frowned, before deciding to drive a different route. It seemed she noticed, because she speaks up.

"Um, Mike, I'd hate to be a backseat driver, but I think you missed the turn to my house."

"We're not going to your house."

"What?"

I pull to the side of the road and park the car, before finally turning to her. "I just wanted to talk to you. You're acting weird."

"Weird? I'm not acting weird."

I frown, turning my full body towards her. "I made fun of you when you dropped a person's drink and you just said 'Yeah, I should be more careful,' in a monotone voice."

"Monotone? That's a big word, huh?"

"See, like that. You said it in that voice. Did I do something wrong?"

"What? No- I mean, uh I don't know... This is weird, you know?"

"What's weird?"

It was weird? What was it? Did she think this new found peace was weird? I thought it was nice to finally be friends with each other. Was I wrong? Did I mistake our relationship? My thoughts stop when I hear her groan and I look at her bandages see they were all bloody. I watch as she reaches for it, smearing blood on her fingers.

"Have you been changing your bandages?" I wanted to facepalm when the words left my mouth. Of course she had, they had been clean before. It seemed she thought the same, because she responds with a sarcastic-

"No, Mike, I'm not. Why would I do that?"

"Sorry, it was a dumb question, "I sigh, "Why is there blood though? Here give me your arm." I don't give her a chance to respond as I pull her arm towards me and slowly remove her bandages.

"Why are you taking the bandages off? You don't have new ones-"

"Actually-" I let go of her arm, opening the glove box to where there were wrapped bandages. I felt a blush rise to my face, hoping she didn't ask why they were in the glove box. I didn't need her to know I put them in there for her.

"Wow, I never expected you to be prepared."

"Well, when you're always getting attacked by monsters, you kind of have to become prepared for everything."

I frown when I finally get the bandage off. It seems the wound had reopened. "Your wound reopened."

"Oh, is that what happened?"

I glare up at her, before unraveling the new bandages, "It might have happened at work or something... You're lucky I had bandages."

"The luckiest." She sarcastically respond, causing me to groan.

I close my eyes tight, my grip also tightening around her. I open my eyes, looking directly at her. I was frustrated, because it felt like nothing I did would make her happy. "I don't know why you're acting like this. I'm trying, like really trying. I want us to be friends and I don't want to fight with you anymore. Believe it or not, I do care about you... I just... uh, I guess I never realized it until recently. I wish you would stop trying to push me away."

"Well, it's going to take time to be friends. We've fought for so long."

I loosen my grip, before rubbing the area with my thumb. "Yeah.. Time. How can we be friends over time if you just push me away though?"

"I don't push you away. I just... How am I supposed to know you're not going to make me into some big joke."

"Oh yeah," I roll my eyes, before pointing at myself. "I, the guy part of possible the biggest loser club in the world with a shirt that tells the world that, am going to embarrass YOU," I point to her, before chuckling, "A girl who has more friends than I've ever had. Even if I was, who would I embarrass you in front of? Everyone hates me-"

"Everyone doesn't hate you. They just think you're weird."

"Well," I turn back towards my wheel, no longer facing her, "Maybe I like being weird."

"Yeah, I've always liked that about you. You are unapologetically yourself."

I could feel a small smile grow on my face. She liked me? Okay, so maybe she didn't say that, but it was close enough. I turn my head towards her, "You know... I've always liked your hair- and eyes." I make sure to say it fast, so she can't call me on my hesitation.

I hear her chuckle. God, I loved her laugh, it was refreshing like lemonade on a hot day. It was like a s'more in the middle of the woods.

"I like your hair too, even if most people don't like mullets," She grabs my hand, causing me to blush, "And your hands. God I love your hands, they're so pretty. And your legs. I like how long they are."

I let out an awkward laugh, trying to not get to red. I felt a tent grow in my pants, which was the worse thing that could happen at this moment. I shake my head, think of an old grandma to get rid of the boner, which thankfully worked.

"Man, take me home-"

"What, you don't want to tell me more about how much you like my body?" I couldn't believe the words left my mouth, though I'm glad they did. I wanted her to compliment me again.

"Not necessarily your body."

I huff, which causes her to back track on her words.

"I didn't mean it like that."

"Yeah? How did you mean it?"

"I don't know... Now take me home, seriously. My dad's probably worried."

"Okay, Princess, whatever you want."

[rebel-at-heart713]

Some of my favorite quotes from “Percy Jackson and the Chalice of the Gods.

1. “Look, I didn't want to be a high school senior. I was hoping my dad could write me a note:

Dear Whoever,

Please excuse Percy Jackson from school forever and just give him the diploma.

Thanks, Poseidon”

Already starting off strong I see.

2. “ My second thought was: Why do the gods keep losing their magic items? It was like a job requitement for them:

1) become a god, 2) get a cool magic thing, 3) lose it,

4) ask a demigod to find it. Maybe they just enjoyed doing it, the way cats like knocking things off tables.”

Percy still has his snark I see.

3. “I am a guy of limited talents. If I can't kill it with water, a sword, or sarcasm, I am basically defenseles. I come preloaded with sarcasm. The pen-sword is always in my pocket. Now I had access to water, so I was as prepared as I could ever be.”

See even he knows his sarcasm is a weapon.

4. “A shiver ran across my shoulders. The last thing the world needed was boomers aging backward, like, We enjoyed monopolizing the planet so much the first time, we're going to do it again!”

Too true!!

5. “ "Do I get to say this is a terrible idea, too?" Grover asked.

"Just do your best," Annabeth said. "You're the fastest runner. You're also the only one who speaks Chicken."

"Technically Chicken isn't a distinct language," he said, "though many animal dialects sound just like Chicken…”

"Dude, just yell at them," I suggested "Do you any fowl insults?"

"This is a family amusement center!"

"Where they are trying to kill us for complaining

"Good point," Grover said. "I will insult the chickens” “

This chaotic conversation. Another for the unhinged moments like the Dam scene.

6. “I also didn't want to die, but at least if I got killed down here, Annabeth would feel really bad about pushing me. Then I could tease her about it forever.

Except I'd be dead. Never mind.”

Love that.

7. “—and also how the kite had gotten zapped by lightning (in the middle of a sunny day) as soon as it was airborne. Even back then, before I knew I was a demigod, Zeus had been watching me. Because that's what you do when you're the king of the gods. You spend your valuable time being as petty as possible, frying forbidden kids' kites out of the sky for fun.”

Of course Zeus is a petty bitch.

8. “I remembered learning about some Norse wolf named Garm, but I wasn't the Mighty Thor, so I didn't want to cross that particular Rainbow Bridge. I had enough to worry about on the Greek side.”

The nice little nod to the Magnus Chase series before he knows it’s a thing.

I added these to my notes as I read this when it came out. I wanted to give some time before posting it. I’ll still mark spoilers even though I don’t think these give much away.

[leynaeithnea]

*appears from the shadows*

little wolf analysis 😏 ?

LITTLE WOLF ANALYSIS you bet

IVE WAITED SO LONG FOR THIS SONG AND I HAD SUCH HIGH HOPES AND I DIDNT GET DISAPPOINTED AAAAAAAAHAHAHAHJFSJJSSKDKFKDKKF

Okay lets go

26. Little Wolf

THAT BASTARD

"Fight, little wolf, fight, wanna entertain me?" HE IS TAUNTING TELEMACHUS, HE INVADED HIS HOME AND HE ONLY SEES HIM AS A SOURCE OF ENTERTAUNMENT, A MILD BOTHER, HE CAN PLAY WITH UNTIL HES BORED THAT FUCKING DOG AND THE OTHER SUITORS JUST BACK HIM UP AH, but "little wolf"??? Is such a sweet nickname????? Also if the post I saw about Odysseus family history with wolves is true thennnn my HEART ♡♡♡ (also explains the "the pack of wolves is swimming with the sharks now) but they use it such a taunting way, belittling him, gods i wanna fight them too

"Bite, little wolf, bite, let's see how you take this" they are pushing him, just wanting to see what happens when they bother him one to many times, when you strike an animal and wait for it to lash out at you, but instead of taking it seriously for the terror that you cause, you laugh about it because you know its not a real thread to you I HATE THEM (BUT THE GRIT IN ONE OF THE SUITORS VOCALS IM DYING FOR, ALSO ANTINOUS VOICE!!! PERIMEDES!!! AAAH) "lets see how you take this" MAKES ME FERAL dont SAY THAT

"Strike, little wolf, strike, wanna be a man?Then fight, little wolf, fight, little wolf, fight" They WANT him to lash out so badly, they want to see what happens, they see him as a kid, who doesnt belong into the palace, he is the legitimate heir, but he cant take the throne without acckowledging that his father wont come back, but if they do that, his mother has no more excuses to keep off the suitors, also I HATE how they use the "man up" argument, FUCK YOU LEAVE MY BOY ALONE

"You've made your worst mistake here, might be your last one too" AH, BITCH, anyway, so I suppose up until now Telemachus just tried to avoid the suitors at any cost, dont make them upset, stay out of their way, grit your teeth and wait, because your father will be back soon...right? Right?? Greek rules of hospitality and all; they cant send them away, but theyre taking in more space and theyre pushing Telemachus into a corner. But Antinous insulted his mother, he tried to get him to open up her room, that was the first time he talked back, prepared to fight, be like his father, being legendary, even though he has no clue what hes doing; and the suitors know that, they probably saw him grow up, and belittled him almost all his life, they know just how much he is not in any position of power and strength, but he dared to talk back, and that little bit of courtesy they had to leave him alone is gone, Antinous is pissed and he wants to get rid of Telemachus anyway, hes just in his way, so he'll take him down, after having some fun first, FUCK HIM, hes such a bastard

"You'll have run out of bones to break when you and I are through" this dude didnt even need poseidon to tell him that ruthlessness is mercy to become the monster rawr rawr rawr, hes just brutal and ruthless and merciless and hes having FUN

"I'll teach you all the lessons your daddy never could" OUCH? YOU ARE NOT IN ANY ANY ANY ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE A FATHER REPLACEMENT FOR HIM SO FUCK OFF ANTINOUS LEAVE ODYS BOY ALONE

"This cruel world doesn't give out presents just for being good", fuck you Antinous GREET THE WORLD WITH OPEN ARMS NOT KNIVES

[So Fight, little wolf, fight; Wanna entertain me Bite, little wolf, bite Let's see how you take this Strike, little wolf, strike Wanna be a man? Then fight, little wolf, fight, little wolf, fight] I love the chorus, OBSSESED WITH THE GRIT OF THE ENSAMBLE AH

The TRANSITION INTO THAT NEXT PART IS SO SMOOTH AND GOOD AND CHILLS AND AAAH

"Or die, little wolf, die" THEYRE SO RUTHLESS, THEY WOULD KILL HIM THEY WANT TO KILL HIM THEY AAAAAH BASTARDS (It sounds so good tho) They want to entertain themselves but they dont fuck around, they arent holding back, they dont care if he dies, they'd actually be delighted, fuck them

"Don't you know it's fight or Fly, little wolf, fly" fight or fly, response, he always was doign the fleeing but now this ONE time he choose fight, and they'll make him pay for it to teach him their lesson, he cant back out anymore

"All because you had to, try, little wolf try" all because he dared to step up for his mom bastards

"Run away before you, die, little wolf, die, little wolf, die" i might be contradicting myself in the things im said before, but they want him to run away, scared, like an animal they can hunt for prey, because if he doesnt; they'll fight him and ofc he has no chance against them, hes just a "kid", but that wont stop them from killing him

The music drop into Athenas quick thought Aaaahh

"Need some help?" LES GOOOOOO ATHENA TO THE RESUCE

"What's going on here?" Valid bb, Id be confused too ♡

"Is your plan to stand around? Cause I suggest you fight back" a little sarcasm huh, well at least you got humor >:)

"I don't know how" DO YOU HEAR HOW SCARED HE IS, HES FACING ANTINOUS AKD THE OTHER SUITORS AND THEY JUST KEPT ATTACKING HIM AND HE NEVER GOT THE TRAINING HE DESERVED TO FIGHT BACK aaaaaaah

"Uppercut him, now" u goooooo

(Neat soutscape, here fr)

"Woah, how did I do that? Is time now moving slow?" Again valid, and adorable, u go ! U punched him! You can fight back :D the vocal performance IS SO GOOD

"No, I just made your thoughts quick" ♡ Good mentor

"Woah, that is so sick" the rhyming here its so cuteeeeeeee, hes so exciteddddd HES LIKE ODYSSEUS WHEN THEY FIRST STARTED AAAH

"Alright now, let's try this again" ATHENA MENTOR LETS GOOO

"I've no respect for bullies, Those who impose their will, I've seen plenty enough to truly understand this kind of filth"...Zeus? (Also her vocalllsss aaah)

"Let's teach this dog a lesson In front of all his kind" her calling Antinous and the other suitors dogs that need to be taught a lesson because theyre acting up....(so much more harmless than a wolf) aaaah

"One young wolf has a larger heart than all these men combined" 🥹😭🥹😭🥹

The INSTRUMENTAL RIFF AAH

"Fight, little wolf, fight" SHES ENCOURAGING HIM AND GUIDING HIS ACTIONS NOW AAAH

also AM I HEARI G THIS RIGHT? DOES TELEMACHUS HAVE ODYS INSTRUMENTALS OCCATIONALLY??? PLS??? PLS???

"Show them that you've got some Bite, little wolf, bite" THE LYRICAL GENIUS turning it into encouraging from "bite little wolf" to "show them that you got some bite" as the phrase ITS SO GOOD AAAAAH

'Take advantage now and Strike, little wolf, strike" again guiding his actions!!!! So proudd, Ody would be grateful to her

"Don't go down without a Fight, little wolf, fight, little wolf" dont down without a fight YES

"Get up and fight" Vocal performance. Stunning AH

[Fight, little wolf, fight, Wanna entertain us? (Oh) Bite, little wolf, bite Let's see how you take this (Strike!) Strike, little wolf, strike Wanna be a man? Then (Oh) Fight, little wolf (Fight) (Fight, little wolf) (Fight)] THIS WHOLE SECTION IS SO GOOOOOD ATHENAS VOCAL PERFORMANCE AGAIN IS OUTSTANDING BEAUTIFUL POWERFULL ENCOURAGING the way she reinterpreates the suitors taunting words into encouragement IS SO GOOD I CANT EVEN AAAHHH

...and still Telemachus loses the fight

"Ooh, maybe I pushed you a bit too hard" Athena understanding the full scope of human fragility since never (but shes trying, i give her that)

"Ow" (hat pats) u did good kid, im proud of you

"Go back and cry in your corner" FUCK YOU ANTINOUS, im sure hes so upset that telemachus even dared to fight back, and is just planning his next steps

"Make sure your mother hears" ....fuck you, Antinous, he sends him back to Penelope as a warning "look what we did to your son, we can do worse, its our generosity that we sent him back at all, be grateful, or else we'll do the same to you" the vocal performance thooo

"If she won't choose a man to adorn her We'll bring blood and tears" ruthlessness.....i do wonder what would happen if she had choosen, the other 107 suitors, they seem to be respecting her having the right to choose (probably legal reasons) but eben if she would choose one, what would the others do? Are they just waiting to beat up each other as soon as she'd pick one? Or would they work together? but also MF STAY AWAY FROM MY GIRL DONT U DARE HURT HER OR TELEMACHUS >:) >:) May your blood cover the palace red

THE DROP AGAIN followed to athenas thing, AH THE INSTRUMENTALS ARE SO GOOD

----> telemachus goes back to his room to his balcony, Athena is still at his side

"Tell me, Athena, why you came to my aid" HE DOESNT KNOW HE DOESNT KNOW AAAAAAAH also his vocals ♡♡♡♡♡ HE SOUNDS SO MUCH LIKE YOUNG ODYSSEUS TOO?? AAAH

[scekrex]

Hurt/comfort anyone? 😌

We all know Adam's "big and tough" act, how he gloats before anyone that he's the absolute best since he's the og dick and he's the reason the rest of the mankind was created, but what about Adam just being Adam like anytime else, especially the scene in court and Sera just talking his ear off about him acting irresponsibly and just revealing the exterminations to everyone in the worst way possible, just giving him a good ol' talk, but not in a nice way, nope. She crushes his ego in a way before leaving him alone in the room, saying she has stuff to attend and he's just standing there, all deflated and his mask glitching from how many conflicted feelings fly over his face, he's resignated, he's even sad a bit, but also angry. At Sera, at Heaven, God even, but mostly at himself since he knows he fucked up another thing in his life that he was trusted with.

He goes back home to unsuspecting of anything reader and just passes by him, not saying a word, even tho reader tried to greet him and hug him, but was unable to since Adam just brushed past him quickly. There was a heavy air surrounding reader's husband and he grew concerned, so he went to check up on him, seeing Adam just curled up on the bed, wrapped up in his own wings, shielding himself away from the world, not a sound coming out of him, but reader knew something shitty happened and just gets behind him, hugging him tightly and gently petting his wings, not saying a word to let Adam calm down and speak when he's comfortable enough to do so. Adam just smashing himself into reader and asking quietly if he was actually so bad at everything that he didn't deserve anything good in his life, if that was why everyone he cared about before left him and even now no body cares in the slightest bit about his existence. Basically just Adam having an existential crisis and reader being his anchor, trying to tell and show him how it actually is and not what his mind is telling him.

This sad, wet cat bitch needs validation and love like no one before 😞🤘

Muah ❤️

Adam might be an insecure piece of shit underneath all that narcissistic bullshit act of his but he's my insecure piece of shit and I love him.

If I'm so wonderful then why am I so misunderstood

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, hurt (with comfort)

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

“Adam,” the older seraphim raised her voice against the first man loudly, it echoed through her office with much more power than the first man had expected it to, he flinched a little at her tone, his wings dropping to their lowest. “Sera, I-” Adam wanted to explain, wanted to turn it into the stupid joke it had been, but the older seraphim had enough of it. She had enough of Adam, she had enough of his behavior and she was about to let him know. “You’re behavior is no longer accepted by us,” she started what would turn into a monologue, Adam made himself appear a little smaller at her words. “You walk on heaven's holy ground, eat the food our Father provides and whenever someone does not show you respect, your first argument is that you're the first human,” all of the things Sera had listed were true, well they had been the most obvious ones but that didn't make them less true. “And yet you behave like one of them sinners,” that however caught Adam's attention. He was what? How dare she insult him like that, he was very much not acting like a sinner. Or was he?

“You walk heaven's streets with curses on your lips, you dirtied your own purity by sleeping with so many women and men, you behave like a total child and don't know when to stop and where to draw the line and I personally am under the impression that we let your behavior slide for way too long,” she stared Adam in the eyes, giving the first man the most serious look he had ever gotten from the seraphim. The brunette lowered his head in defeat, Sera had often given him shit for being too loud, too much of this, too much of that, she had told him he wasn't behaving like the pure first human should - but it wasn't Adam's fault, not really, because how was he supposed to behave ‘normal’ when God had given him two wives just to take them from him again when he was alive? How was he supposed to fit in and act like everyone else when all that would bring him would be pain?

“Maybe divine judgment failed you. Maybe you should have ended up in hell amongst the other sinners. Father certainly wouldn't have liked it, not after Lucifer's fall, but it would have been the correct decision.” And that made Adam crumble into pieces - at least mentally. Because deep down inside he knew she was right, that no angel other than him dared to stain the name of the Father above, no other angel dared to behave as reckless and merciless as he and his exorcists did. And yes, no other angel than him had slept with so many women and men - a thing he used to be proud of. Before he had met you, before you had become his lover, before he had committed himself to you and only you. Before you, he had been different.

She smoothened out her hair, straightened her back and looked down at Adam, “I have to attend an important meeting. You shall leave and overthink your actions, Adam.” And with that she left him there, leaving him as she had shattered not only his ego but the last piece of confidence he had held inside of him. It took the brunette a while to realize that Sera was not coming back to comfort him, to tell him that she had been too harsh, why should she? She was right after all, Adam was a horrible person, he knew that, had known it ever since.

-

When the door to your shared apartment opened and Adam walked through it, you were quick to get up and greet him with a warm hug, expecting your boyfriend to be just as excited to see you as you were to see him. But he wasn't, in fact he didn't even look at you as he crossed the living room in order to get to the bedroom, no ‘sup babes’, no ‘Fuck I've missed ya stupid ass' no fucking nothing. The tips of his feathers were dragging on the floor as he walked, a sign that something wasn't right - Adam always made sure that not a single inch of his beloved wings was touching the dirty ground, even in your apartment. The brunette clearly wasn't in the mood to talk, yet you went after him to let him know that he wasn't alone, that you were there no matter what was wrong.

You opened the bedroom door quietly and what you saw shattered your heart. Adam was laying on the bed, his body looked like a ball made out of feathers, he had curled in on himself, his wings shielded him from all of reality, from whatever was hurting him right now. Yet you saw how his body shook, the first man was crying.

Wordlessly you closed the door behind you, trying to do so as quietly as possible. Then you walked over to the bed and cuddled up behind him, one of your hand gently found its way into his hair, petting it just the way you knew he liked it whenever he was feeling upset about something, the other hand of yours smoothened out the feathers covering his wings, gently rubbed the little gap between where the wings grew out of his back - you were very aware how sensitive that area of the angelic body was given that you yourself had experienced it before.

For you it was ridiculously hard to keep quiet, you wanted to talk to him, wanted to ask what was upsetting him so much, why he was crying, what there was for you to do to make it better, but you didn't. You remained quiet, Adam had made it clear that he preferred not talking about it at the moment - or maybe he simply found himself unable to do so, you weren't quite sure which was the case but either way you respected it.

A small smile appeared on your face as the brunette leaned into your touch, he tilted his head backwards, sad, puffy and reddened eyes watched you as you continued to pet his hair without a single comment, if Adam wanted to talk, you would listen. If Adam wanted to stay quiet and enjoy your presence in silence you were fine with that as well. For you it simply was important that the first man knew he wasn't alone. You were there to provide comfort and a safe space he desperately seemed to need.

“Am I as fucking terrible as people tell me I am?” there it was again, his unnecessary cursing, fuck Sera had been right. He rolled himself over, buried his face in your neck and pressed his body against your own. Your body warmth calmed his nerves, made his mind quiet down for even just the tiniest moment, but it did cause it to quiet down. “Is that why I only have Lute and you left? Because I'm fucking terrible? Because I don't deserve damn good things to happen to me?” his voice was really just a whisper yet you understood every word perfectly fine, even if it was mumbled against your skin. Your hands remained on the gap between his wings and in his hair, giving Adam the stability he craved. He needed someone to cling onto, he was too unstable to hold himself together so you did that for him. “No,” your voice was soft and warm, yet serious, it caused Adam to blink in confusion. “I don't deserve you,” was the next thing he said, and that was where you drew the line, you gently tilted his head upwards, then placed a soft, loving kiss onto his lips, “Bullshit Adam, you're wonderful and I love you.” “But I’m not. I curse a-fucking-lot, I can't keep shit together, for fucks sake I can't even do the simple things like telling you I fucking love you every day.” And yes, that was true, but that didn't cause you to love him any less, if anything it was things you loved about him especially. “I don't care about all of that, I still love you.” “Will you leave me too? Like Eve? Like Lilith? Once you finally fucking find someone better?” You shook your head lightly, placed another kiss onto his forehead, your lips kept resting against his skin as you spoke, “No, dummy. To me there's no one better than you are. You're the best for me and you'll always be.” Adam didn't answer you.

He clung onto you even tighter, wrapped his wings around you and held you close. He didn't believe you, simply couldn't, not after what Sera had said. But at the same time the first man trusted you with his existence, so why would you lie to him? His inner conflict was silenced as you pulled him into another gentle kiss. You couldn't help but hum a soothing melody, “You’ve already changed so much, so many things you've done,” you felt as Adam's eyes fell shut and as his body relaxed underneath your touch. “So many songs you've sung, and in the end, they will still hold their grudge,” you felt him nuzzle against your skin, felt how his breath evened out. “There’s something I've been dying to say, more than anything,” you smiled as you sang the last part, feeling Adam's fingers digging in your skin as he tried to pull you even closer - not that it was nearly enough though. “More than anything, need you to know I love you more than anything.” The first man pressed a sloppy, lazy kiss against your jaw before he fell asleep, from his lips fell a quiet, “More than anything.”

[venus-giirl]

"A enemies to lovers"

Gyutaro Shabana x fem reader.

Fandom: Demon Salyer.

Word count: +1.8K

Rating: fighting, insults, fluff, anguish, enemies, harsh words.

N/A: I'm back, bitches. This last month I've been with final exams and couldn't find motivation to write. So last night I sat down and decided to write an enemies to lovers with Gyutaro, since I saw that the last post had been well liked. Enjoy reading, sorry for the hurtful words, but in this story the two of them hate each other… or not.

THE BOY IS A MONSTEERRRR

The room was dark. School supplies were cluttered all over the space, which was already cramped. Balls, tennis racquets, strings, mats, etc. Everything smelled like gym equipment, covered with the typical layer of dust that was hardly cleaned unless the equipment was being used.

Both of your breaths were labored, breathing hard due to the little air left inside along with the dense layer of dirt. You were angry at the stupid situation you were in.

"You shouldn't have come, it was me who was tasked to go get the mats." he growls in a serious tone, almost sounding like a dog facing his opponent.

"I've already told you a thousand times, he sent me to help you too, the mats are heavy…". you retort.

"I don't need your help, I am much stronger than you".

"You're an idiot if you think a woman can't fend for herself, Gyutaro."

"The idiot is you if you thought you were going to help me with those weak arms." His breath hits your face. It wasn't unpleasant to you, despite his hideous appearance. It smelled like a mixture of mint and body odor.

You shake your head shaking your thoughts away. My goodness, you disliked him for over two grades. He was so cruel and mean to the other students and envious through and through. He was always complaining about those who were better than him, especially in sports.

"Oh my god, you're unbearable, you know that?". You don't know what to respond and the only thing you can think to do is try to vent your anger by making him feel bad. Even though that really wasn't what you wanted, but you couldn't help it.

"Unbearable is your stupid voice and to top it off the door was locked with the keys out because of you, you clumsy girl." He had snuggled closer to you. Although the room wasn't very well lit, because the light wasn't working either, you could see his face with the small solar halo coming in through the small square window located above the wall where Gyutaro was.

His hands had reached your arms to shake you helplessly for the situation. You wince as he digs his fingers in that it almost hurts and you let out a whimper, trying to pull away from him.

"Let go of me, you brute." You fight back, trying to wiggle out of his grip. "I hadn't even seen the keys." When you had entered the materials room you didn't notice that the keys were in the lock, so you assumed that the trainer had already opened the door and that he had them hanging around his neck, as usual.

"Oh, of course. Because the girl is so dumb that even at that she's not able to figure it out." His comments were starting to hurt and tears were beginning to sting the edges of your eyes. You were not going to allow yourself to sink with his hurtful words. If he could insult you with no regard for your feelings, of course you would too. You hated him.

"You are inconsiderate, sarcastic and unbearable." You scream and press the palm of your hands on his hard chest to push him away from your body. "If you were in a different mood maybe we'd be out of here by now." You press your nails into his shirt and manage to rip a button off. He grunts and squeezes you tighter in his grip. Your arms hurt too much. It might even leave a mark on you.

"I didn't need your help!" He yells and shakes you.

"Fuck, Gyutaro, this isn't about help!".

"Then why do you always show up everywhere I go?". His question left you unsettled, blank. In fact, you also had the same feeling of running into him, in the hallways, at the lockers, when sometimes you were late because you overslept, in fights you were always around or even when he was expelled from class for confronting some teacher, you would show up by the punishment room to put some papers.

"What… What? For God's sake, I'm the deputy. It's normal for me to be doing… delegate stuff." You weren't crazy and you weren't chasing him, it's just a coincidence. right?

He laughs in a low, vile tone, not believing anything you say. "And it's also a coincidence that we're here right now?".

Your cheeks were starting to heat up from anger. "Honestly, I'd rather die than be locked in the same room as you." You spit out in a stern tone.

Gyutaro responds with a laugh too unpleasant for you "Dare to say that again and again and I'll break you". The glint of malice could be seen in his gaze. His teeth chattered with every word and his jaw tensed, you almost thought he might snap his teeth from the strain. His grip and his voice were harder and harder.

"Fuck you." You grab his shirt and try to shake him too.

"Oh, I'm flattered, but no thanks." You take a few steps forward and out of sense take a few steps back. You don't want him to touch you. You can't stand it. His touch feels rough and horrid to you. Cold and hard. Painful and… Fuck, stop thinking about it.

"I hate you, I hate you. I can't stand you and you think I'd be after you? Jesus Christ, you wouldn't believe that yourself. From the moment I saw you I couldn't stand you." Gyutaro is silent for a few moments, seconds in which a silent emptiness takes over the room, which, seconds before, had been filled with screams and voices, insults and confessions too painful and cruel to be able to say them to another person.

Seconds in which your body is pushed forcefully backwards. The air leaves your lungs abruptly and gravity takes hold of your body pulling you down. Your back crashes heavily against the mattresses and you feel a large, angry body looming over you. The vibes shook your skin and it bristled at the numerous sensations you were experiencing, fear, terror… But you were not going to show weakness before him. No way, he couldn't see you crying or in a vulnerable state.

Your breaths were agitated, loaded with words that wanted to leave your mouths to hurt again. Hands and legs move, squeeze, and you try to pull away. You sit up, but he places his palm on your chest and sinks you back down to the mattresses. You claw at his arms and groan, trying to overcome his enormous strength. He grunts gutturally and tries to grab your hands again. When he finally succeeds, he spreads your legs apart with his knees and stands over you, his bony pelvis now between your thighs, preventing you from closing your legs or kicking him. You gasp and grunt, arch your back, but nothing, you can't free yourself from him. From his prison. God…you were almost sure you'd never get out of there.

"I hate you you know." Desperate you attack him again with the only thing you have left.

"I know." He replies in a dry tone and smiles showing his menacing teeth.

"I hate your smile."

"I know." He repeats. His face moves closer to yours. Her hair, always messy, now falls around your face, forming a curtain between the two of you.

"And your face, you're so…you're so obnoxious." Your nose brushes against his, his breath hits your mouth and cheeks. If you could sink even deeper into the mattress you would have made it by now.

His weight on your body burned you more and more. "And I can't…I can't….". Your eyes widen as you feel his lips rest on yours. You don't know it at the time, as the darkness prevented you from seeing, but his eyes looked into yours with a glow…an unexplainable glow. His dry, chapped lips encircled yours in a chaste kiss.

Your breath catches and you let out a soft sigh, half-opening your lips. Gyutaro pulls away just an unbearable millimeter and you already feel the cold from the absence of warmth. In an uncontrollable impulse you sit up and kiss him back. You suck in a breath of air and crash your lips against his. Gyutaro grunts in an attempt to control himself and crushes you back against the mat without separating from you, without breaking the kiss again. His mouth opens and he sticks out his tongue to open your wet lips which you open, inviting him in. Your tongues meet, slippery with saliva. Oxygen is depleted as your kiss becomes more intense. Now it has become a war to see which tongue can dominate the other. Your mouths open in a kiss. His breath caresses your right cheek and you tilt your head so you can get more of him.

His hand held the back of your neck. Since when did his hand hold the back of your neck? His thick, calloused fingers curl and pull at it. Your body arches and his body hovers more over you, the mats supporting the weight of both of you. Gyutaro grunts and begins to eat from your mouth as if it were the last meal on earth. You follow his rhythm and you both create a dance, in which your mouths devour each other with anger, rage, hatred and uncontrolled passion. His teeth sting and graze your lower lip. From time to time he gently bites your tongue and curses, in words that crash over your lips, incomprehensible confessions.

You feel and hear Gyutaro's nails digging into the mat and breaking it as he clenches his fists. Your hands now embrace his neck and you pull at his hair, causing him to growl. At an indeterminate point, you become dizzy and can almost feel his pelvis shift between your thighs, searching for something to relieve himself with.

However, the crazy magic of that crazy kiss is interrupted by the jingling of keys and a male voice shouting, "Is someone inside, the door is locked, hello!". Everything falls apart when Gyutaro abruptly pulls away from your body and growls. His weight, his touch, his breathing, his hands…everything is now cold to you. Your mind gradually comes to its senses and you awaken your mind cold again, assessing the matter. You are still there, lying on the mats, trying to calm your breathing and organize the bomb of events in your head.

"Shit…" Gyutaro curses and turns his back on you. Before he leaves he gives you one last look showing his teeth and walks away, leaving his scent, his trail. You hear the professor hurling questions at Gyutaro who ignores him completely, until you stop hearing his footsteps. Your hands rise by inertia to your red, swollen lips and you again hear footsteps running into the material shed.

"T/n, are you okay?" Mitsuri's soft voice sounds concerned, but you don't manage to hear it. Not after what's happened.

"I… I hate him…". You whisper still feeling the trail of Gyutaro's kiss on your mouth.

[vitzi9]

Pretty gifts

Joker X GN!Reader

TW/CW: reader is androgynous, murders, talking about kys, work in catering (it needs its own warning), reader curses a lot, mention of vomit, stalker, reader throws up, racism, Gotham is hell and fuck capitalism, blood, violence

tbh i'm a little sad bc nobody ever give their opinion on my works. I put another divider (like the red heart below) in the middle of the story, not really to separate as it's following directly but bc some people find my stories too long so it's like a checkpoint. So when you leave, you know where you were. (It's really long)

also the end is a little weird bc I have no idea if this fandom is still alive so, yeah :) if people are reading, I might continue it. Thing is some ppl find this Joker ugly so...

I hope you'll enjoy this. (19/02/2024) (17k)

You weren't weird by any mean, okay ? Life in Gotham is just really hard. You got harassed, robbed and assaulted more times than you can count. And each time by a new profile type ! Old, young or teen, it doesn't matter, everyone is desperate.

Some of your colleagues at work are prostituting themselves and you for sure considerate selling feet pictures.

That's how life is in Gotham.

But weird ? You stare at the angry man before you, unimpressed. You can't believe he called you weird as well as an incestuous result. You're neither of these. Fuck, how is weird and incestuous his first thought when insulting someone ? Like, he could've called you a fucker, a bitch... Anything !

Your aggressor, if you can even call him that after this, shows you his middle finger while walking background. Quickly though, he loses his balance and fall on the ground. Well, at least he didn't beat you up !

You already got assaulted for your money, which you don't even have, you got two jobs and barely reach the minimal wage. But at the end of the day they, well, stole the few you have, you know ? When you think about it, he strongly smelled like alcohol. That's probably why he failed his attempt.

Even stealing is death here. You never know who you're facing. Hell, just yesterday a guy was killed because he tried to assault some big chief of a mob. Someone with a clown face. TV says the man's limbs were still not all found.

Shit, getting killed by a clown must be mad humiliating too.

You sigh, trying to ease your tired traits by passing your hand on your face. At least the day is over, right ? Another day closer to death. You drag your suddenly much more heavier body on some few meters/yards more, silently praying that no one else will bother you.

Thankfully, your cries were heard. Pushing the old creaking door of the building, you rush to the mailbox. Never have you been comfortable staying long here. The door is only behind you and you don't know if someone is able to enter with bad intention.

Speaking of the devil...

No mail except for this weird card yet again. It's cardboard displaying a drawing of a joker, withdrawn from a poker package. It's certainly not the first time someone pull this kind of joke on you. Though, you have no idea who this is and it creeps you out a little. You turn the card to see if a message was left and sadly, (or not) you were right.

You've been trying to understand who this was for a long time now but in a big city like yours, with god knows who or what ? It's just impossible.

As always, you hate to think this because you don't want this creepy card to become part of your habit, a messy handwriting greets you in black ink.

"I'm everywhere in this city, no one can touch me yet some are fond of me."

You stopped school kind of early so your IQ is probably not high enough for you to understand that. Plus, you don't fucking want to.

You grab the card with you in order to throw it once at home and rush to the stairs (some says someone got killed in the elevator plus it's not working since months so you're not taking it anymore). Finally home. Your hallway still smells like piss and a deadly cold reign here (Nobody knows why). Two of the four bulb of the ceiling has burnt out and a faint static noise is resonating in the whole property.

This building is not even in a neighborhood that bad. But in Gotham, not that bad is still bad. Because bad is sleeping to the sound of gunshot and broken windows. While here, there's still these but not as often as in bad neighborhood. But you can add the moans hearable in the night in it as well.

Your building is really old though, which explains (partially) the bad state it's in.

Taking out the key off your pocket, you start to unlock the door. Unconsciously, your mind goes back to the card of the day. "I'm everywhere"... What's everywhere? There's air. But they specified 'in this city' so air might be too simple.

No one can touch me yet some are fond of me.

You can't touch air and you're not sure people are fond of it particularly. Like, air's fine. It's cool as fuck but are you fond of it ? No. Then what is it ?

You didn't even realize you were looking at the card again, your door wide open while standing in the middle of the hallway ridiculously. Slapping yourself mentally for being so careless, you enter and close the door and all your locks shut.

Some are fond of me, huh ?

In Gotham, what are people even fond of ? Misfortune you'd say. These fuckers love to see others suffer and even make sure they do by engaging in others people life.

But you don't know if that's really the answer. Damn, can't they just give you simple question? Or even better: stop giving you any ?

You drop your bag on the floor, slouching your shoulders and throwing yourself on the couch. Fuck, you hate your life. Why are you even here? You don't deserve this life. Nobody does !

Haphazardly moving your hand, you end up successfully grabbing the remote. You need to empty your mind, or have a background noise at least.

The screen lights up displaying you the newest information girl. The last man disappeared after he made the mistake of letting show his politic side. It's obvious everyone is corrupted here but the mystery in this story is ; who erased him ? It could be mob, politics themselves, everyone.

This city is lost.

The woman is talking about the incessant inflation and how numerous factories and business saw themselves forced to close for good. You just hope your business won't shut down, you need money. What if it does close, though ? You were already sweating trying to live with two jobs, but what if you end up jobless ?

It'll be impossible for you to pay anything. To keep your apartment. To eat. What are you supposed to do if this happens ? You already thought about that and all of your long reflection session always end up on one conclusion: kill yourself.

Because there's no way you're living without job in Gotham while being in the streets. You would have left the city if you had money or even family out there but it's not the case. So yeah, killing yourself that is.

Sure it looks a little extreme but isn't earth overpopulated anyway ?

It's better than being killed. At least, you choose your death ! But you're gonna hope this still won't happen. Up to now, your job is yours so taking such drastic measures won't be necessary. And you hope it'll stay this way.

Damn, you're depressed again. You drown out your worries by hiding your face in your couch's pillow. Man, what capitalism is doing to one.

You switch the channel without looking where your fingers pressed, this time a man is talking. He's saying something about a criminal and quoting every one of his crime. It was going crescendo, at first robbery, assault and burglary but just next to all of that was terrorism and mass murder.

You want to turn your head and watch the profile of this man but are too weak to move. So you simply listen closely to the man voice to get answers.

"Yes, he's a dangerous criminal and he's in town. He already break free from Arkham asylum twice now. If one of you see this man; do not engage, hide and call the police immediately. He is incredibly unstable and may not be alone. If you think you can win against him, you're wrong. He's a manipulative man and a mastermind. If you're seen by him, you better start to pray. Ends the man on a serious tone. Man, this guy knows how to reassure people...

-Indeed, a true monster. But please do not scare our audience. Batman was able to capture him twice, we'll be fine. The man chuckles but does not sound really honest. To answer all the questions you've been a lot to send us, we'll have the pleasure of meeting mister Harvey Dent here, chief of the police department to answer your worries. Harvey Dent ?"

And the voice switched to the other man. You like Harvey Dent. You like to think he's the only man in Gotham who's not corrupted. He's helping the citizens. Unlike that Wayne man. This guy could single-handedly resolve the poverty problem, but does he do it ? Of course not. He's rich after all, why should he care for bum like you ?

Harvey Dent is talking but you're not listening. All you know is that he's trying to ease the population. The men on TV are always saying the same things: empty promises. How the police is already taking care of the problem, that it'll be better soon. Like the police isn't already too fucking busy harassing the wrong people.

Harvey Dent is your last hope. The only man who can change things.

You deeply hope his promises aren't as empty as the other man before him. You turn off the TV and relax in the silence of your flat for a moment, breathing in the perfume impregnated in your couch.

There's screams outside. You can't tell if it's the neighbors or someone outside. Either way, you stand up feeling your eyelids getting heavier by each passing second.

But before leaving to your room, you stop in front of your window and stare outside for a moment. It's nighttime now. The city won't go to sleep, oh no, it's just waking up. The police can already be heard in the distance with its loud sirens. This city really is chaotic. It's just everywhere, you can't escape it. Touching it isn't even possible, you can't grasp it, nor resolve it completely; it's in the air. You can't fight against it. Nobody fights against it.

Fuck, it's like they're fond of it, here.

Chaos, it's scary when you think about it. Because you can't guess what's going to happen. There was a time when you thought that anarchists could be right but if anarchy looks like this, you don't want it anymore. You just want some peace and respect. But it seems too much to ask for Gotham.

You fucking hate chaos.

The next morning, your limbs were so sore you almost didn't make it on time to work. Your boss reprimanded you about your delay, pressuring you by recalling you the time one of your colleagues got fired for it. You were only late of something like one or two minutes but it didn't matter to him.

He only wanted to feel superior. He didn't even need real reasons to yell at you.

The restaurant wasn't packed. Only the usual rich families wanting to spend a pleasant day. They were here to eat breakfast. You try not to think too much about the fact that one single of their jewelry is equal to your salary.

The streets were alive; people running, cars honking. Your colleague hitting your shoulder to bring you back to earth, everything is normal.

"You think you can ask Mike to make another one ? she asks you with a sweet voice. The kid threw a tantrum. It's not salted enough and he hates sausages.

You lift up your eyes towards the crying kid in the back. Cold eyes stuck to his face. You're sure he specifically asked for sausage. You're the one who wrote down his order. And the salt ? Can't he just fucking put some himself?

-Don't question it. They're regulars. Plus, I don't think having beef with a kid is good for our reputation." Tells you your friend after seeing the death look you were giving him.

So you take the plate that looked absolutely perfect and delectable to bring it to Mike. Mike is an old man once passionate about cooking. Now he's forty three and stuck cooking eggs and toast to some crying kids.

"No fucking sausage and more salt please. you say, throwing the plate on the counter in a loud clatter. The man laughs at your anger and don't even need to ask to understand. 'Got it boss !' is your answer.

You lay your weight on the counter, back meeting the freezing temperature of it. Different smells invade your senses; fresh bread, warm oil and eggs. Well, lot of different smells were here as well but they're the one that really stuck out to you.

"You were late this morning right ? Did the client touched their plate ? You can eat it otherwise, it looks fine.

-Because it is, it was made by the best cook of Gotham after all.

The man laughs, mimicking someone blushing by putting his hands on his cheeks. He tells you that you're lying and that you're saying that to flatter him only. Mike had buzzed his hair a few months ago but they were back already; small rough curls mocking him.

You sigh and look back at the plate, it did look really fine. The kid hadn't even touched it ! The eggs and the bread were intact, left in the same state it was neatly put in earlier.

You spend your sweet time talking with Mike before your boss comes in infuriated, ordering you to come back at the front. And you're forced to do so. Grabbing a water jug on your way and putting on a fake smile, you walk towards a new family sitting so straight your back hurts just looking at them.

All of them laid down their menu and are waiting. You arrive, apologizing for the wait. 'Have you decided ?' you ask while putting the water on the table. The man takes the menu and start listing his orders without a smile nor even a look in your direction. The woman is busy keeping her children calm and asking them to calm down. The other tables are side-eyeing her while the husband doesn't even acknowledge his wife.

"Noted, you smile and turn your head to stare at the woman for her to start ordering.

She smiles awkwardly, and tells you her kids orders before ordering for herself. You thank them, "I'll be right back." and you leave to the kitchen. You sigh, scotch the orders on the wall, grabs the plate left for you to take and head back to the crying kid from earlier. The demon who ordered fucking sausage before saying he hated them.

But as soon as you place the plate before him with a smile, the kid slams his fists on the table resulting in his glass of water to splash on you and break on the floor. The mother gasps while the dad gives a slap in his son's head without even you registering the whole situation. Your clothes are completely soaked, you want to say something but his mother is sending daggers at you with her eyes and you know not to mess with this stupid fucking family.

Did he did it on purpose ? Yes. Are you gonna say something ? No.

"It's okay, I love children." you don't.

And you leave. Deeply humiliated. But you can't do anything. Because you're no one compared to them, they're gonna win. Always. Your friend asks if you're okay, you shrug. She's unable to question you further as she has to continue working. You head to the back in search of a broom.

The small closet is all the way behind the kitchen and you're already tired just thinking about it. Once you're in, you frenetically search for your item only for a shelf to fall apart behind you and destroy itself on the ground. You bite your lower lip with all your strength to retain you from crying and cursing the whole world.

It's okay, it's just a shelf. It's okay, you try to think but it's hard when it's not even noon and too much shit already happened to you.

You crouch down and start gathering everything you can when your eyes falls upon another one of these poker card. You frown and take it in your hands, examining it deeply. Uh, wow, okay. It's a little weird. You just happen to receive these daily in your mailbox and suddenly there's one here. Okay, totally normal.

You stand up, looking around you for an answer, trying to see if a camera is here somewhere. But nothing. So you turn the card to read the new message: You need one to live, I often rip it apart and yours is mine to steal. A heart ? you immediately think. You definitely need one to live and the sentence 'steal your heart' is kinda famous. But rip it apart ? Is it, like, a metaphor ? Glancing back quickly, you notice a small note left in the bottom right corner of the card. It reads: what a shitty shelf.

You laugh nervously, your breath getting stuck in your throat. What the actual fuck ? it's not even funny, what the hell ? Sorry for the fucking shelf ? They knew this was going to happen ? You definitely have to talk to someone.

You pass your hand on your face, rubbing it strongly as if to wake you up from a bad dream. Then you take the broom and head back.

Rushing to the kitchen, you accidentally pushes someone in your haste. You see Mike from afar and don't even need to approach him that you yell your question for everyone to hear:

"Mike, do you happen to play poker ?" the man faces you, his confused expression told it all, he didn't. And from the other's cook faces, they probably all thought that you were crazy. None of them looking guilty. But you'll investigate that later.

Not wasting any seconds, you almost run to the main room to find your friend. Luckily for you, she's cleaning glasses at the bar.

"Hey, is it yours ?" you're a little out of breath when showing her the joker card. Your friend simply shakes her head. When you asked her if she knew if one of your colleagues was playing poker, she shrugged and told you she didn't know with an apologetic smile.

"Why ? she asks.

-It's complicated." you say.

It can't be from the same person, right ? If it is anyway, that probably means one of your colleagues is the one putting these at your place. Which is a terrifying idea because you sure never gave your address to anyone here. Trying to see the bright side of it all, that means that you may know your 'joker'. And if that's the case, there's a way for you to stop them. It's better than the cards coming from a total stranger, because you can't act against them. You'll probably leave some clues at work to see and trap your joker.

The rest of the day was terribly hard. You were dying from the inside. Your tummy was growling like a beast; you did not have the time to eat. As you're juggling between two jobs, your boss thought that he had to exploit you as much as he could before you left. Because you're joining the bar, your second working place, at two pm.

"You're gonna leave in the middle of the day, when most people are coming. I'm losing money here, you see ?" he had said to you that day. Yeah, he does not give you any breaks because to him, you don't need one as you leave earlier. Of course you tried to negotiate and he was agreeing with you, on the condition that he pays you less.

"Mike, I'm leaving. you tell him, taking off your apron. Have a nice day, say hi to your kids for me." he smiles warmly to you, wave and you're out of the room in a quarter of seconds. You already bid goodbye to your friend so all you had to do now was to leave.

Putting on your jacket, your thoughts can't stop but think back about this other card you found. Yours is mine to steal. In what sense ? You could've thought it was some creepy flirting but it's just too much. You found these at home, at work. Everywhere. Are they going to rip your heart apart, too ? Are these threats ?

Hopping in the bus, you try to stay away from Gotham's crackhead as much as possible but it's hard when they're drunk and staring at you like they want to beat the shit out of you.

Fortunately, your stop arrives and you hurry to get out. It's 2:36 PM (14:36), the bar is not open yet but cleaning and organizing everything is part of your contract.

It's at five pm (17h) that you open the bar, standing behind your counter and waiting patiently for clients to arrive. You're happy Sean is here. He's a big man of 2m3 (~6'8), practices combat sport and knows how to handle different weapons. In a neighborhood like this, you're more than grateful to have him.

He's also the son of the owner. So it's really just the two of you here. The first persons starts entering the place and it quickly fills up entirely. It's quite a famous area, cops never comes here as mobs are doing their own laws. Sean puts on some background music you can't even hear anymore over the loud voices of the men laughing cavernously.

You're busy serving people's drinks. Moving as fast as you could but it being hard when your thoughts are plagued by cards and your mind is not here. Who's this joker man ?

The street lamp are all finally on, meaning it was past seven already. You didn't even see time pass, the incessant flirting and bickering of the men here enough to keep you from being alone with your thoughts.

"Thanks baby." says a young man when you give him his beer. He has a really bad scar going from his forehead to his lower lip. It's no surprise, you saw men with less limbs, other talking unknowns languages, some with sight or hearing completely lost. Sometimes normal people like you would come, women even but more rarely as the men here were true animals.

You wonder what type of people there is with you tonight. You're not naive enough to think all of them are innocent, in fact, you're sure 85% of your client here are criminals. This bar is situated apart from the city, in a corner more secluded with abandoned looking buildings and scary dark alleys you certainly don't want to visit at night, or even at day for that matter.

This place sucks.

Honestly, with your cards problem, you even considered engaging a spy to see who put these creepy notes in your mailbox. But two things prevented you to do so; first, you do not want to do business with criminals, second; there was a chance that your joker was one of your client.

Some of your clients here probably have mental illness as well, worsening their state. And maybe someone fixated on you and decided to follow you home. It'd be really awkward to engage a man to scare your joker away, only for him to be the same person you're trying to avoid.

But now this idea starts to disappear. You found a card at work after all, your boss is not stupid enough to let anyone break in. So the criminal track wasn't the one. It's one of your colleagues. There's just no way one of the bar's client could have followed you home and at the restaurant.

But on the other hand, it's difficult to see one of your colleagues following you home too. Because after working at the restaurant, you're not heading home right away. You're working here. Is it possible they waited outside until you finished ?

"A whisky for me." is what tears you away from your misery.

You do not look up, instead turning your back to him and reaching the shelves to search for the bottle. You grab a glass, throwing ice cubes in it and pouring the harsh liquid in. You then slide it to him, he nods and drink a first long gulp.

You follow his arm to his face before blocking on it. It's a man with a skin so pale it's getting worrying. His eye bag are terribly dark that you thought he had put black eye-shadow on them. And for a second, you truly thought it was the case. He had really bad scars going from each corner of his lips up to his cheeks, like a badly drawn smile. In the small crevices of his scarred skin, there was faint white and red paint, or make-up that did not left during shower. Is he like, a mime or a clown ? He looks like he haven't showered for a while, no judgements or anything, but his green hair are greasy.

He continues to savor his drink quietly while you're here, astonished by such weird scars. You saw scars, a lot of them. But they all looked accidental, caused by self defense or anything. But his clearly looked volunteer. You could clearly see that the goal was to create some sick form of smile, whether it is successful or not. What the hell happened to this guy ? Has he been tortured ? Did he make these to himself ?

'You got some nasty scars' you want to say. But the wicked grin he gives you is enough to make you gulp and smile awkwardly. Of course he saw you looking at him, you did not move an inch/millimeters. And he does not look like the type of guy to be nice.

"D'you like them ?

-Sorry ? you blinked.

-My scars. Do you like them ?

-Uh, yeah, yeah.

Fucking creepy. What the hell ? What did he do to have those ? Why is he even asking you this ? Why is he looking at you like that ?

-Do you want to know how I got them ?

-No." you answer at the mere second he ended his question, by pure fear he was going to destroy you. Or try to recreate those scars on you. Hey, you never know.

The man grins and chuckles at the quickness of your answer and stops talking for a while. Did you just escape death ? You think so.

He stopped drinking, though. You try to look busy but you're just organizing and disorganizing things on loop. Sean is having the time of his life chatting with the clients towards the tables area. But you, you're stuck behind the counter. You can't even count the times you got your ass slapped or got whistled. Plus, some of these guys often try to threaten you with knifes to make you give them free drinks.

It could've work if Sean wasn't here.

But it's comical in a sense. The morning, you're busy being the little dog, the little slave of these stuck rich people crying when their plate arrives one minute late, with prices on the menu so high it's clearly a scam for some eggs and bacon. With a ground so perfectly clean you could lick it.

And at night, you're here. Surrounded by criminals, drunkards and God knows who. With bad music taste rumbling in the background and place so dirty you could throw up and not even see it through the trash lingering on the ground. Well, in your defense, because you're the one cleaning, it was clean before. But everyone arrives with their disgusting shoes or bleeding and then they spill their drinks, and they fight and, yeah. At the end of the day, this place is a mess.

Your back is still facing the mime guy but you know he's staring at you. You know it because you can't stop shuddering. Your works are sure keeping you in touch with reality at least, you've seen both extreme.

"What's your name ?" You face him, afraid to offend this weirdo.

Telling him your name out of all the people ? Never. Smiling the best you can, you tell him your coworker name from the restaurant. He grins like a Cheshire cat, his smile accentuated by his prominent scars, nodding. You know better than to ask him back his name, he's probably, surely, a criminal. You don't have a death wish at the moment. You usually don't like to lie but this job at the bar taught you better.

-You know, he starts again and you pray he does not start to harass you with questions, he licks his lower lip before continuing. There's one thing I truly hate in this world. He pauses. You wanna know what ?

-Tell me. You say reluctantly, not wanting to anger him.

He lays one of his elbows on the counter, raising a brow and looking around him as if going to tell you a secret he wants no one else but you to know. Then, he looks at you again, a mysterious glint in his eyes.

-Liars.

Oh.

-They're such... he squints his eyes, moving his hand in the air to the flow of his thoughts. Vicious, little bitch, you know ? If we want to change things, he licks his lips, they're the first people that have to go. Don't you think ?

-Yes, I'm with you on that. you hurry to answer, nodding frenetically, feeling your blood run cold and a sweat cross your spine. Myself I really can't stand lying, you know ? Liars are really bad, they're manipulative and all. you were just trying to save your ass at this point. You received a lot of threats in your life, but this man right here ? There was something deeply wrong with him. He was fucking traumatizing you. You did not want to mess with him.

The only thing plaguing your thoughts is; does he know ? Does he know you lied about your name ? Because he specifically asked this question right after you presented yourself. Does he know ? No, no he doesn't. How is he supposed to know you ? You don't even have any name tag on.

The man chuckles deeply before you, licking very briefly his lips again; is that a tic ?

-What's his name ? he asks, looking straight to Sean, as if judging his soul. Does he have to stare at people like he wants to kill them all the time ?

Now you understand. He scared the shit out of you to ensure you wouldn't be lying to him. And now he's testing you. Why, you don't know. But you answer honestly this time. He smiles mischievously. Maybe that wasn't even his plan, maybe he's just deeply weird and unsettling. Maybe he doesn't even know you ever lied to him. Maybe you see things where there's none.

If there's one thing Gotham has taught you, it's to be wary of everyone.

-Are you fucking him ? he asks again, still looking at Sean laughing with the others.

-Why ? this thought never even crossed your mind before. Why would you fuck Sean ? He's nice, he's good looking but, you don't know, you wouldn't fuck him. You just, don't want to ? He's a friend.

-He's quite the tall guy. Are you fucking him ? he insists, ignoring completely your question.

Wow, that is getting incredibly uncomfortable and personal. You know you're supposed to entertain them and all but damn, this guy is killing you. You throw a glance in Sean's direction, hoping to catch his attention so he could help you but he's busy laughing with other clients.

-Why're looking at him ? I'm the one talking.

-I don't think this is appropriate, Sir. It's quite the personal questions you're asking me here. you laugh nervously, hoping to relax the mood but the man before you doesn't even react. Can I maybe offer you another drink ? It'll help...

-You got something to hide ? he licks his lips.

What. The. Fuck.

-I have to stay mysterious in order for you to come back, right ? you do not want this weirdo to come back, but that's the default sentence you usually say to avoid answering intimate questions.

But the make-up man does not insist, he gives you a cheeky grin.

-You want me to come back ? How flattering.

Most of the time, what you implies when saying this is that you want them to come back to consume more, so you have more money because you're kinda the bartender of this place. But this guy just plainly wants to fuck you up. Where's Sean when you need him the most ?

It's like no one around you is seeing you. They're all drinking their sadness, trauma, day away, not caring that a creepy guy is keeping you in his weird conversation you clearly do not want to participate in.

-Do you want to play a game with me ?

-I'm... Quite busy, actually. So...

But he knows you, now. He knows you're a bad little liar. Listening to you is now optional to him; he clearly doesn't care. The man stands up and you start to get scared. What is he going to do ? Is he going to hurt you ? Your hand is holding firmly the bat under the counter, fingers shaking with adrenaline. You never used a weapon before, less against someone. You never hurt someone, intentionally at least.

Sean, move your ass over here, now.

The man grins, eyes trailing your arms. He knows you're hiding something under this counter, but can he blame you ? You're surrounded by criminals, he's one himself ! It's impossible to know what to expect. Honestly, you're ready to scream to get attention and get helped. Even if there's high possibilities for a general fighting to start resulting in this poor bar to be destroyed.

But the man does not try to hurt you, he smiles, put his hands in his pocket and you now realize how well he's dressed for someone like him. A nice and well maintained purple suit.

"It makes me live and follow you at dark, keeps me up at night and makes you fall apart."

No...

-Who am I ?" He ends slowly, torturing you.

Your shoulders slouched down, tension leaving your hand on the bat. Your body become a big, useless puddle. Eyes as big as owl ones.

"I-I don't want to play. Your stutter had gave away your uneasy feeling, you step back, eyeing this man from head to toe.

You've come to despise those damn riddles. You don't want to hear more of them.

-But this one's so simple sweetheart. He mocks you. It starts with a pretty little O and ends with a N. I'm sure you'll find out.

You shake your head slowly; no, it's not simple, no, you don't want to find out, no, you don't fucking want to listen to him. But he simply chuckles, relatively amused by such a big reaction. Well, with that kind of huge revelation, you can't quite control yourself.

He's rummaging through his pocket, heart almost leaving you. What is he searching for ? A weapon ? What is he thinking ? But against all odds, the joker man takes out something so small you can't even see it behind his palm. You know he's doing it on purpose, hiding it from you to destroy you more, to see the look of surprise, fear or shock, or... Whatever, on your face.

-That's my business card, as a little... Reminder." You deeply doubt someone like him own any business, less business card. So what is he going to give you ?

He lays gently his hand on the counter right before you, not letting you see what he was hiding until he removed completely his hand, confirming your theory of him hiding it on purpose. You'd recognize them anytime. Your heart is beating faster, so fast you're scared it might explode. Nothing is written on the side you're staring at, you grab the cardboard, praying that it's just a crazy coincidence even if the drawing of the joker smiling stupidly on the card is taunting you.

But when you turn the card, the answer is given to you. For the first time since you've started to receive these.

-Obsession." you sigh, breath getting stuck in your throat. You were petrified. "You're... You're the joker man." you say in a shaky voice. Was it finally him ? Answers, you needed answers. But when you looked up, the man had disappeared. Leaving you with nothing but deep fear.

Silent tears slide on your cheeks, you bring your hand to your mouth in order to hide your muffles. Looking back at the card, you feel your legs give up under you when your real name is written in bold black letters in a bottom corner. Bile is rushing to your throat.

It's him. He's the one sending you these.

But you don't know him. You don't fucking know this man. And he's a criminal. You're fucked. Smiling like a madman, you start to laugh nervously, not realizing the situation. It's a joke, right ? You cough, progressively choking on your saliva. You bite your lower lip so hard it starts bleeding. You pray, you pray so hard this man isn't your stalker but you're lying to yourself. It's literally the worst case scenario that could happen.

You've never seen this man in your entire fucking life. Where does he even come from ? Why you ? Why him ? With his fucking creepy scars and fucking riddles. He knows your address ! Your name ! What else does he know ?

"You okay there ?" You nod without even looking at the person talking to you. You choke out a quick answer before rushing to the back towards the private toilet.

Immediately collapsing to the ground, you throw up everything you had in you, which wasn't a lot to begin with. You barely even ate anything. But you can't stop. You empty yourself, only vomiting water.

Sean finally comes get you, he rubs your back and help you get up. "What happened ?" He asks you.

"I don't fucking know." Is the only thing you can muster.

What you do know however, is that you're scared to go home.

"Are you heading home tonight ?" You ask him, voice hoarse. "Well, yeah" is his answer. So you asked him, begged him to come with you. Because you were horrified by the mere idea of going home alone. Maybe he would be here.

"You can come to mine if ya want." he offers. And you think that the guy from yesterday probably was right, you were weird. Why aren't you going to the cops, after all ? Probably because they'll think you're lying, that you're insane. A joker ? Harassing you with riddles ? You'll end up in a asylum in no time.

But wouldn't you be safer in a asylum ?

When Sean and you closed the bar, it was already well past one am. You didn't had the strength to redo this all over again tomorrow. But Sean was of good company, cheering you up and trying to ease your mind. Multiples times he tried to ask what was wrong, but he guessed it alone. "Was it that weird customer in purple ? The one with the suit ? I saw him lingering a really long time at the counter." You shrugged when he said that, completely worn out. What could he even do against him anyway ? The Joker man wasn't known to any of you. It was a lost cause.

Chatting with your friends wasn't even crossing your mind, you were terrified. The long walk to his apartment was as quiet as a church. What the fuck were you going to do now ? You were dead, yes, you were just dead at this point. What can you even do against some psycho following you around ? Fight back ? Yeah, if you have a death wish. You have to get out of this city, there's no other plan. But how ? And to go where ?

"We're here." says Sean. You've never been to his apartment's before, and to be honest, you would have preferred for it to happen in other circumstances. Trying to escape a criminal wasn't in this year plan.

Before you stood a tumbledown grey building, not much different from yours in reality. After all, Sean's not that rich, he's payed like you and live with his dad's payment. Though, you're pleasantly surprised to see the coziness of his place.

Warm lights were turned on, his sofa looked quite mellow and the general smell of the apartment was lovely. Not that you're judging him, but you wouldn't have thought he was such a clean guy. Because he's like, well, some kind of mafia man. So, yeah, he often smells like sweat and dirt himself, it's a surprise his place is so neat. Sure, it's damaged by humidity then and there, there's cracks in the walls but so do yours. The paint is peeling in some areas as well, you're used to it enough to not notice it. You take off your shoes, but keep your jacket. Probably in search of a safe feeling, maybe by fear of being vulnerable.

"You can sit on the couch, I'll order something.

You don't even have the will to eat right now, the ugly feeling everything entering your body might be threw back out instantly bothering you too much. However, you did sit on the couch. It smelt like him; you hated it. You were violating his property, his intimacy. You shouldn't be here.

But do you really have a choice ?

Sean is talking in the background, on the phone, yet, not a single word is understood by you. It's like he's speaking a whole new language. The red flowers on his TV stand keeps reminding you of the joker's card and his damn hat.

He hung up, that you heard, and left for another room. You hate to bother him, he probably only wanted to go home and sleep after a hard day but you messed up his plans. Grabbing the remote, you turn on the TV to empty your mind. You search for series, documentary or cartoons, only to be disappointed at the sight of obnoxious ads.

You end up watching the news, it being the sole channel not drowned in ads. A woman is speaking in a professional neutral voice, wearing a white shirt. She talks about the inflation killing our country before going onto her next subject; the outgrowing insecurity. The two preoccupation of the government, or at least, what they want you all to think about.

From what she says, a hold-up happened in a bank yesterday, in plain sight. (Why do they talk about it now, you don't now.) The building stank laughing gas. Only one man declares having seen the main suspect. Her chair slides to the side, leaving space for the video to appear and for the victim to testify; "Green disgusting hair and some fucked up clown make-up. That's the only thing I saw. He has no value, I'm telling you, criminals used to believe in things ! He has no respect for anyone, he killed his own team ! He's gonna come back for me, I'm sure of..." and he's erased from the screen at his outburst, for everyone to forget his trauma.

Did he say clown ?

"Indeed, the woman vigorously resumes, a faint smile on, was she laughing at the victim ? green hair and clown make-up is on brand today as everyone only talks about this mysterious criminal. After disappearing for months, the troublemaker is back in town and seems unstoppable. But has he truly ever gone away ?

It's not the same man, right ? No, no of course not. If he's a famous criminal, he has better things to do than harass insignificant useless civilians like you with stupid riddles. He robbed a bank ! Why would he even look in your direction? Fuck, what if he thinks you have some kind information? What if he think you're related to a criminal ? What if you are ?

-He calls himself Joker, always wears his clown make up and has a habit of wandering at night." The woman straightens her posture and clasps her hands together. "After yesterday's fiasco, the famous criminal already perpetrated his next attack. Earlier, at noon, the biggest hospital of the city was targeted. Cops were able to evacuate everyone urgently. Gotham is in shamble, people are afraid and angry. The police is trying to calm the crowds, in vain." Images are shown behind her of people running, yelling, stretchers evacuating and flashing cops car during her speech.

She continues talking but you stopped listening when finally a picture of the Joker was displayed on the screen, his face horrifyingly reminding you something. Too many information are going to your brain in so little time. You try to rationalize everything but it's hard when your mind is too tired to cooperate.

He's called the Joker. And you happen to receive joker cards. He wears make up. The man at the bar looked like he did. Hyperventilating is the only thing seemingly still possible from your body. You stand up, inking, sinking, learning, engraving his face to memory.

Two big scars, both going from each corner of his mouth to his cheeks.

Like a badly drawn smile.

"Sean !" you call. Your friend runs out of the bathroom, disheveled, shirt loose and no pants, only in underwear. He rushed out, scared something had happened. Your shaking pointer aim at the TV screen, at the face of the man on it. "It's him. He was at the bar."

When Sean looks at the man, a chill runs down his spine. He understands what might have happened earlier. He could see the purple suit the man had on on the picture, which was the exact same one he saw at the bar. Fuck, it is the same man. He knows the Joker, hell, everyone knows him here.

And that's bad news.

He's everywhere in everyone business. He has no sense of loyalty whatsoever, killing even his best allies and no one has the slightest clue what he wants. At the bar, he probably scared the shit out of you, he probably threatened you, too. Why, it's impossible to know. He's quite the unpredictable.

-Don't worry, he says, he probably forgot about you already. He's a scary man, likes to shock people a little. He always attack for a reason and you're not a criminal, so you're good."

But you couldn't believe it. He does not have all the information. He doesn't know about the tons of cards you received until now. Eyes completely stuck to the screen, you observe the face before you, knowing you probably wouldn't be able to escape him.

Somehow, this emission confirmed to you that he was real, that you weren't dreaming. And that you really were in it deeply.

Sean insists you shower to relax a little bit, you're holding onto the remote for dear life, nails digging in your palm. When in the bathroom, your eyes automatically gravitates towards the mirror, discovering your new face scarred by sleepless nights and cries. You're almost scared of your reflection. Sighing, your hands find themselves in your pockets alone but you're startled by the coldness they are greeted with. What have you in your pocket that is freezing like that ?

Your unease comes back in a rush when you take out another one of these cards from your jacket. Are you for real going crazy ? What is going on ? When did this get here ? How did it get here ? It's your damn jacket ! You had it in the work closet all day !

You're tired and doing this little fucked up game is not doing any good. A greasy almost wiped red is the first thing you see, his lips, you guess. He wears some kind of paint as lip stick, he fucking kissed the card, creepy bastard.

Turning the stiff paper, your eyes meet once again one of these painful riddle.

"I'm everywhere, you can't escape me and I'm coming for you. Who am I ?" tears slide quietly on your cheeks, the only sane reaction your emotionless state can give. You're not even moving, eyes staying fixated on the card; the tears are just physical. Body exhausted from it all. What is this now ? You know he's not talking about an object anymore, he's talking about himself. It's not riddles, it's threats. He's coming for you, what is he going to do ? Kill you ? Torture you, or worse ?

The shower did nothing to ease your nerves, you've never been so tensed in your life. What could you even do against this man ?

When Sean called you to eat, you let him know you weren't feeling the slightest hunger. He said nothing, simply keeping a plate for you on the kitchen counter.

You did not even blink an eye that night, paranoid at the slightest noise, a knife slept cautiously under your cushion. The windows and doors were completely shut and you would have loved to do the very same thing to your brain. You fell asleep, eventually, when you should have been up.

Sean was still asleep when you awoke the next day. You were late, and terribly so, the clicking clock on the wall warning you. It was already way past nine. You don't like to leave his house without even thanking him for his hospitality once again. But you'll see him tonight, at the bar. You'll probably have to quit, though. Not yet, as you have to secure another job. You can't risk being here without money, after all. Joker knows where you work at, no way you're staying more than necessary. But... he has to know about your restaurant job too, somehow.

You had a card in the closet, with his stupid shelf trap, after all.

You're safer there, maybe. It's quite the chic area. There's camera, people. Socialites are here, nobody attacks socialites. Usually, at least. Doubts subsists, the journalist on the TV affirmed the Joker attacked in the middle of the day, in plain sight. Would he attack the rich ? They're untouchable, their lawyer always know what to do and they know everyone. You can't kill a famous advocate, right ? It's like attacking the mayor. Remembering his face, you keep the unsettling impression he could kill anyone.

Fuck.

You take a piece of paper, write a few words on it, scotch it on the fridge and leave, dashing outside to not worsen your lateness. You were dead, oh you were so dead. Late couldn't even describe your situation by now. You boss was going to kill you, de-materialize you and send you in another world.

You ran until your legs couldn't support you anymore, people were side-eyeing you in the streets. Certainly thinking of you as some kind of thief or at the very least a criminal of some sort.

Jumping in the nearest bus, your legs being too weak to support you anymore, you finally arrive at your workplace ten minutes later. It was quarter to ten.

You're breathless, rushing once again to the rear of the restaurant. You push the back door open but to your surprise, it won't budge. What ? The guys never lock the door that early in the morning, they know you'll arrive, eventually. You knock a few times, knowing you had the key anyway but if someone was passing by inside, it would be quicker.

You don't have to wait that long as your boss himself is the one opening it for you, as if waiting beside it until your entry. He probably was. He crosses his arms on his chest, eyes glaring holes in you. Damn, you'll have to fight with him, again. You promised him you wouldn't be late anymore, he will never trust you again.

Well, it's not like he trusted you much before to begin with.

"Listen, I'm terribly sorry I'm late but... he scoffs.

-As If that was the only problem ! The man tightens his jaw, talking between his teeth. He approaches his head to yours, almost colliding your forehead together; he talks lowly, scared to be heard. You know damn well what's wrong.

Wow, okay. You were not expecting his reaction to be that dramatic. You're just (incredibly) late. It's not new. What's gotten into him ? You squint your eyes, at a loss of words.

-I was just... You start, ready to recite him once again your preposterous apologies.

-I don't give a fuck about you being late, he cracks, get out of here now ! You are not to put a single of your foot in this restaurant anymore ! You're gonna scare my customers ! In the process, a postilion left its house to attack your cheek. You cringe, immediately wiping it with your sleeve, shuddering in disgust.

-What ?

-What, what, he mimics you with a grimace and a weird voice, Get out of here ! He articulates each words slowly as if you were a foreigner, except his tone was harsh and firm. Haven't you seen the news ? If they hear a criminal is working here, I'm screwed.

-A criminal ? But I'm not... I'm, what the hell ? I'm not a criminal Tony.

-Yeah, yeah, and I'm rich ! Get the fuck out of here or at least, do me a favor and let me turn you in to the police." his face changes to disdain, suddenly thoroughly repelled by your being. "Man, you have to be some dirty criminal to have 600 000$ put on your face. What kind of shit have you done, huh ?

Six fucking what ?

-Uh, listen, I think there's some kind of misunderstanding here. I'm no criminal and I'm definitely not worth that much money.

Hell, in all your life, you did not even earn that much money !

-Hey, his tone changed to deviously adopt one sweeter. I don't want any problems okay ? With you, the cops or whoever is fucking wanting you dead. I'm an honest citizen.

What a hypocrite, he was literally yelling at you seconds ago.

You frown, trying to even understand what he's implying. You scratch your cheek, eyeing him from head to toe. He's in a tux, like always. He never do shit here, settling for bossing everyone around while trying to make you believe he's an irreplaceable element in the team.

Judging by his eyes, he is not kidding.

Is he for real firing you ? Just like that ? For some imaginary story he just made up ? Jobless, you will be jobless. He is firing you. A nervous chuckles escapes you, earning you a raise of the brow from Tony. No, oh no no ! You have this job, you did nothing wrong ! Life is already more shitty than it ever been ! Stalker, debts, fucking serial killer wanting your ass and now you lost your main job ? No, that won't do.

You were already planning to leave the bar, how are you supposed to find back two jobs ? One already was an ordeal.

-Honest citizen ? Are you blind ? You were more so than him at the moment. You don't even have an ounce of honesty in your fucking body ! Are you even aware of everything I did for this shitty place ? You can't fire me and you won't because no one else want to be your fucking slave ! Your job is slavery ! I don't want to be some kind of toy you throw away after you've had enough fun with it !

Tony was outraged you could talk to him like that. He was similar to a bourgeois in the eighteenth century, acting shocked after being the most gruesome person alive, putting his hand displayed on his chest and playing innocent.

-Me ? You should be honored to even be working ! You never understand, do you ? You are wanted, that's it ! There's nothing more, nothing less. You are fired. I am not hiring trash.

You hope the worst criminal of this town gets you, right here, for his fucking ugly disgusting restaurant to be destroyed to the very last crumbs. You'll use his body as a human shield while you're at it, after all, what else can he be useful for ?

Your body is boiling like lava. Hitting, jumping, crying, you don't know what you want, need, to do to externalize all of these toxic feelings. Never in your life have you felt more used, humiliated.

You knew he was an asshole, of course. Everyone does, but hell he fired you ! After years of being his toy !

You understand why people in Gotham are crazy. You understand why they suddenly breakdown and fall into crime. Their life, just like yours, was wasted by some self centered prick like him. Some self centered prick who are not even much richer than you, but think they will be when disrespecting you.

Your face isn't even warm, it's seething.

Your life is flashing before you, old friend, family, home, Mike. You won't even be able to pay your rent ! Of course chaos would be loved in a city where trash rules. Why the manifestation are so violent, why insecurity and banditry are prominent ? Because everyone is tired but nobody is listening. Because nobody wants to talk, they think they're at the top of the food chain.

And he won't change his mind. You're fired, that's all. Nothing can alters his decision. It's too late. He probably just created some poor excuses to get you out, you know it. Because you're not a criminal, and no one is giving away 600 000$ for your ass; he's lying. It's too farfetched.

You muster the calmest voice you can get while in such a boiling state, and God knows how hard it is. Wasting more time here is useless, he'll pay but not now, and not by you. You have a new problem: you need to find a job.

-Why don't you kill yourself, Tony ? Right now ? your eyes were empty against his outraged ones. That's why your wife left you, by the way. That's why she left you and took your damn kids. You don't even deserve to live, really, kill yourself, jump, it'll be better for everyone."

You shrug and turn away to never come back. You really hope he disappears forever.

And without anything else to do with your day, you went back home, body functioning by its own. With no diploma and no driving license, how were you supposed to find a job ? You had little experience, mostly having worked in little jobs everywhere. Cashiers, cleaner, babysitting, gardener (you really just cut bushes and mowed the lawn), security guard, fuck, you did it all. Plus, you have a second job and companies hate to arrange their schedules according to yours, in their point of view, you're the desperate one, you should manage your life.

It was safer to wander in Gotham now, the sun was bright in the sky. It was a clear day, really pretty. A shame you couldn't enjoy it.

You open the always creaking door of the building, feeling the freezing temperature inside. Truly a mystery, though a benediction in the hottest summer. A night out and it's like you already don't know this place anymore. You stand in the middle of the hall, staring at each crack in the walls, each suspicious stains, inhaling the disgusting smell emanating from it all.

Yeah, you hate this place.

Sighing and rubbing your tensed shoulders, you approach your mailbox. Opening it, you're pleasantly surprised when no cards is in sight. Maybe he finally got bored ? Your reaction back at the bar probably wasn't what he expected, not satisfying enough so he gave up. You hope so.

What's inside however is a A4 white sheet folded in two. Thinking a neighbor might have wanted to contact you, you open the paper. Yet, on it, the photo of your identity card in huge format, above it, your whole legal name with just below a price, written 'wanted' for treason. A chill run down your spine.

Okay, that is not funny. What the hell ? Did Tony did that ? If yes, how and why ? You pass your hand on your face, harshly rubbing your eyelids to wake you up. This is a joke, everything's a joke.

An echo brings you back on earth when someone goes down the stairs, upon seeing you, your neighbor halts. You offer him a tight lip smile out of pure politeness, which is a an act he does not even try to imitates as he eyes you as if seeing an animal. Do you look that bad ?

Awkwardly, you shift your weight on your feet to ease the tension growing in you. Why is he still looking at you ? The man, even though you were already well far away from him, distances himself and instead of going straight to the door to leave, bothers to make a detour in order to skirt you completely, without daring to approach a millimeter. Does he think you're going to bite, or what ? You two have talked in the past, briefly sure, but still. Fuck, his behaviour does not comfort you one bit.

When the door shut, you're left standing alone once again.

Things are definitely going in a direction you don't appreciate, you may need to hurry up before something really bad happens. Your hand fetches your phone in your back pocket, calling Sean. When he answers, he does not even bother to greet you.

"You okay? You left really early. You're at work ?

-I got fired, long story. I really need your help, again. I'm truly sorry I myself don't quite understand what's going on and... you stop your ranting, breathless and a lump in throat.

-It's okay, really. I don't mind. Tell me everything, how did you get fired ? Why ?

You called him for several reasons. The first being that he's kind of the only friend you have. The second being that Sean's family know people. They're all criminal at different degrees, whether it is gang leader, small thief or hitman. He's the only one actively trying to live an honest life.

-It's complicated and I'm still pissed about it. you tell him seriously, walking in circles in the hall. I have a question and I really need your answer.

-Not stressing at all. He tries to ease the mood, in vain.

-Am I wanted ?

Sean doesn't answer for twenty seconds too much. His silence is starting to worry you, why isn't he saying anything ? Is he confused ? Does he know ? Please, may he not hide something from you. Wanting to distract yourself, you take the stairs to join your flat. Your fingers were creasing the paper sheet in your hand so hard you could have ripped it.

-In like, he finally starts with a strained voice, a personality kind of way ? Relationship ? He chuckles awkwardly while you frown. Well, no offense but uh, I don't think I am attracted to you, I like you but I wouldn't say I want you, you know ? But you shouldn't be insecure, you're a really great person you know, and I mean, you're not ugly so...

-Sean, what the fuck ? You finally cut him when it hit you that he wasn't answering. You were on the floor just below yours, wanting to walk and not quite go home for the moment.

-I'm sorry, was that mean ? That was definitely mean. He clears his throat. Listen, what I meant was...

-No Sean I'm not insecure, everything's fine. I did not mean... Argh ! You're in this kind of environment, you should know !

-What environment ...?

You want to pull at his hair and shake his head back and forth to punish him for being so stupid. Or maybe you were just not being clear, it was surely that. You were incredibly stressed. Traveling between the different floors or the building to stretch your legs.

-Like, criminals, mafia, I don't know. It's... You sigh, your anger dissipating when you realized you were being a little harsh to him. Weird things keep happening to me and I think I'm going crazy for thinking I may have a price on my head.

-Oh, wanted wanted. No because I thought... He coughs. Never mind. I can definitely tell you that. But honestly, odds are low. No offense but you have nothing to give to anyone. You don't have a lot of money. So I don't think anyone wants you.

Damn.

-Why do you think that anyway ? he asks.

Very briefly, you explain to him why Tony had fired you, still using the stairs and floors as a distraction. Of course, you then told him about the paper you found in your mailbox and the weird encounter with your neighbor.

-I'm just really fucking lost, Sean. I'm sorry, you've been nothing but nice to me and I keep snapping at you, I-I don't know what's going on.

-You're freaked out, it's normal. I don't blame you. I'll help you, send me the wanted poster you got. Maybe it's fake."

Of course, you tell him. You'd do pretty much anything to get out of this situation. You want it to be fake, but there's just an accumulation of bad things that tend to make you believe it's true. Looking around you, you notice to be on the last floor of the building. Flattening the paper sheet back, trying to erase all the creases, you lay it on the dirty floor of the hallways. You tear your phone away from your ear for a simple moment to take the picture. You press send.

You wait impatiently for him to say something, anything. But his reaction is clearly not the one you were waiting for:

-Oh fuck.

-What ? you panic, feeling your heart rises in your throat. What do you mean 'oh fuck' ? Sean ?" But the nauseating ringing of the call being cut short echoes in your ear.

He hung up.

You bite your lip, shutting your eyes as hard as you can. Your fingers find your closed lid, pressing on it as if calming an upcoming headache. What the fuck is going on exactly ? Why did he hang up ? Did you say something ? Did he see something ? You can't keep doing that, nobody answered any of your questions since this morning. You are tired.

You give up. You'll go back home, sleep a little. Research a job in the newspaper and hope for things to get better. Sighing, you walk the stairs once again, only this time to really move on.

Has everyone given up on you ? It feels like it, no one seems akin to want to help you. You never did any wrong to anyone. You always hold the door open to people, you give the few you have to homeless people in the streets. You payed what an old woman lacked in money for her groceries. You work everyday of the damn week, with no holidays.

What have you done ?

Sure, you're starting to break down, you told Tony to kill himself, you yelled at Sean. What the hell ? Never would you have done that in your life. What's happening ? It's getting scary out there, yet, no one's here for you to confide in.

You never should have left your hometown, you punished yourself.

The first thing you do once inside your home is falling head first on the couch. Feeling tears filling up your eyes. You don't fight them, letting them slide freely along your cheeks. After all, it's the good part of having a place to yourself, you get to cry alone in the safety of it.

You'll have to give it up, though. Without necessary money, you'll eventually need to move. Probably find a roommate and live in a red light district.

You spent the next hours trying to read classified ads, key word being 'trying' as your watery eyes didn't allow you to see much. And you ended up watching TV, like you always do. You couldn't fathom the idea of being that alone. When did it all go wrong ? Are you a horrible person ?

The news-woman kept talking and talking without stopping, saying the same things as yesterday and probably tomorrow as well. Inflation, criminality, inflation, criminality. Where were you in all of this ? What about the population ? Where were the solutions ? Is this city really stuck in a loop of chaos ?

The screen now displays a cop in a police station, sharing his feeling and impression about the improvement of the city. You don't listen to him, more struck by what's behind him: a poster on a cork board. Yours. It's your face, with the price, 'treason' shit and everything. The exact same poster you had in your mailbox. The situation is that bad, huh ? Your wanted poster is right next to The Joker one. Is there a link ? Are they hoping to find him after finding you ? They're wrong, then.

You wait, impatiently trying to decipher whether the policeman will talk about you or not. But he does not, so you lay back down on the couch. How does wanted people live freely ? You've been researched for a few hours and you're already going crazy with the feeling everyone's watching you.

Do you even know a criminal in this town ? Well, the only one you do know is Sean. You briefly meet them at the bar, as part of your job. Befriending them is not for you though, so you have no useful information to give the Joker. Then what does he want ?

The doorbell rings through the flat, screaming at you to get up and do something with your life. A chill run through your body, breath stopping for a second out of fear to be heard. For a while, you don't move. Who could it be anyway ? Surely bad news. Now that you're wanted, it could be anyone. But the rings echoes again, forcing you to get up. Slowly and as quietly as possible, you slide to the door. Eye staring through the peephole, you're surprised to discover Sean standing anxiously outside.

How did he get your address ?

Opening the different locks on your door, you however keep the small chain closing it. It wasn't much of a protection to be honest, but you needed to lie to yourself a little bit.

"You hung up on me. Is the only thing you say when your eyes meet.

-I know, I'm really sorry. Are you okay ?

-How did you get my address ? It's weird.

He explains to you how your information are given on your work file. You stand inside, judging him from head to toe. He welcomed you at his place, you have to be polite or you'll really look like an opportunistic. But it's hard when you don't know his exact thoughts.

-Why did you hang up ?

-I talked to my uncle, he has a bar in the center of Gotham. Every criminal goes there, he knows everything.

-And ?

-You're safe, it's false. You're not wanted. He... He didn't see your poster. So it was a bad joke. Silence, you don't believe him. I promise. You're not in danger.

Then why is your face plastered in all Gotham ? Is he completely sure about that information ? You hate to act this way but, it's too late for him to tell you that anyway. False or not, the poster of your head is everywhere. People will try to find you. The veracity of it all doesn't matter anymore.

Though you can't shake that uneasy feeling inside you alerting you of his lie. You saw your face on TV, in a police station. It's not nothing !

-How are you so sure ?

-I told you, you have nothing that could interest such a dangerous man as the Joker.

He's right, on the other hand, something's definitely wrong.

-What do we do, now ?

-You could let me in ? I want to help you but we can't talk if I stay outside.

Halfheartedly, you let him in. He thanks you, admires a few seconds his surroundings before plopping down on the couch. You stay standing even after closing the door shut, crossing your arms on your chest and awaiting his arguments.

Should you tell him you saw your face in a police station ? No, you need to know what he's going to tell you. He's lying, you know it now. But why ?

You thought he could be a friend, turn out you can't trust him that much. Or are you losing it ? Policemen are quite dumb here, they are completely capable of believing everything they see and considering they're desperate to catch the Joker; they could have took your poster as a track.

-What's your plan ? you ask.

-It depends on what you want.

Well, you want a lot of different things. Money, happiness, freedom, family, equality, peace. Right now though, one will be enough.

-I need a job, I can't pay my rent this month otherwise.

-That one's easy. He crosses his arms on his chest, sinking into the sofa cushions. Try ask your bank, they'll lend you some.

-No they won't Sean, I'm indebted. Seriously, did he really think life was this easy ? Did he really think you haven't thought of doing just that ?

He sighs and shrug, crossing his legs, he put his feet on the table. Your eyes are enough to tell him to put them back on the ground. He's a little bit too comfortable for your liking.

-It's these immigrants my friend. We lack money because of them.

What ?

-No, it's just poor distribution of resources. With the ongoing inflation and such, it has literally nothing to do with immigration. You frown, confusion lacing your tone, answering him as if asking a question, because what ? That was so out of pocket ? It's stupid to think like that, it's too easy to accuse others. They're as fucked as we are, you know ? Don't say that.

That's what Gotham thinks ? That each one of their problem is caused by others ? Industries, Government, Politics, they're the one causing all of this. How does someone get to this conclusion ? You thought Sean was good, hell, his family was poor. They survived thanks to drugs and banditry. He's bold to think immigrants are the problem: His family literally embezzles money.

-Jeez, calm down.

Well, it's difficult to be calm towards this kind of stupidity. But at least it keeps you in check, you know who he's voting for. Never trust anyone. It's true you don't know him that well, after all.

-You want my help or not ?

It's harder to see him in the same light as before after this, but if he's the only one willing to help, you can't waste this chance.

-Yeah. You sigh, ashamed with yourself. I need people to forget about me.

-Good, meet me at the back of the bar at the end of our shift. He's not waiting for an answer as he gets up to leave.

-Wow. No ?

He stops in his tracks as you block his way.

-What do you mean, 'no' ?

Is he serious ? With everything you risk ? Criminals at the bar know you, hell, some of them see you every night. No, you are not joining him in the dark in a creepy alley late at night when people want you dead. Also, you need to think a little before jumping straight back to work, it's dangerous.

-Because I don't want to die ?" You need to tell him. "Okay, Sean, I may not understand everything but I know you're lying to me. Am I wanted or not ?

He already lost every ounce of respect you had for him. First with the lying, then with the whole immigrants things.

-You don't believe me ? Is he trying to make you feel guilty ?

-I saw my fucking head on the TV. I believe that's enough proof for me. You cut the conversation straight, not wanting him to keep lengthening things uselessly.

Sean doesn't answer, seemingly hesitating. What is he thinking ? He has to respond. He's constantly trying to avoid the subject and it's getting frustrating.

-That means I'm in danger, right ?

-Yes." he finally answers. Thank God, you think, God why, you also think. "But not because of the Joker. He's not responsible for what's happening to you. All the cards and riddles are from him, yes, but someone saw you two talking at the bar and thought they could get to him by killing you.

You entirely stopped trusting him after he mentioned the cards and the riddles. Because never, in all your discussions, have you mentioned receiving these. He knows too much.

You don't bring it up, of course.

-Explain.

Who could have told him about the riddles, if not you ? The one sending them ? Yes, but Sean's terrified of him. Plus, he couldn't talk to him, even if he had the courage to. It's the Joker, from what you understand, you don't approach him easily. He's not the small local criminal. He's something more.

-The Joker's well known. Everyone wants to defy him. And someone saw you.

-Who ? you ask, finally getting some well deserved qualitative answers.

-His name was, uh, Korej I believe.

-Ko...Rej... you repeat, unimpressed, frowning.

Is it you or does it sound vaguely similar to Joker, but with the letters all mixed up ?

-It's his pseudonym." He hastily answers. "But his real name is John, he lives in the richest part of Gotham. He's a mob leader. He fucking despises the Joker, that's why his name is Kojer.

-Korej, you corrected.

-Yeah, it's difficult to remember. It's quite the shitty name.

He really think you're dumb, right ? You clasp your hands together, catching his drifting attention.

-Okay, well, thank you for everything Sean. It was a pleasure, truly. But now I'm gonna ask you to leave.

-You don't believe me ?

No, no you don't. Everything he ever said to you since he first came here was either weird or false. And sometimes weirdly false.

-Please, leave my house.

You'll go to the nearest police station, ask for help. And if nobody helps you, you'll find a way out of here. This city is dead anyway, there's nothing for you anymore. It's too late.

-Don't you want to talk about it ? he asks hurriedly, displaying his open hands in the air as if ready to grab your shoulders.

-If you want us to talk, okay, you yield. But choose somewhere safe, with a lot of people. I am not joining you at the back of the bar at night where everyone could kill me.

You're going crazy. Why are you even accepting this ? It's not a dream, nor a joke, you really are wanted. People want to kill you. There is money on your head. Sean is deep in thoughts before getting the enlightenment he needed, suddenly vigorously saying:

-Shopping center.

-What ?

-Let's meet at the shopping center, in two hours. I have things to prepare, people to call. You have my number, I'll call you. Is it good for you ?

His behaviour is screaming danger, on the other hand, a rendez-vous in a crowded shopping center at 3PM is not as risky as the bar. And if things turn bad, you still have a chance to run away, hidden in the mass. You hope the things he'll prepare will help you, and not worsen everything.

"Okay. You yield, once again.

-Thank you so much, he exclaimed." Why is he thanking you ? "You're a real sweetheart. It will be worth it."

And with these last words, he left.

You won't go. Of course you won't go damn, you don't want to die. He's so suspicious ! Why so much relief ? He's the one supposed to help you, you're not doing anything for him. You absolutely changed your mind. Yesterday, he was that nice man who saved your life, welcoming you home warmly. Today, he's, well, you don't know who he is anymore. You want to understand, discover what's wrong, but at the same time, it's not yours to do.

Fuck, you need to empty your mind. It's tiring, to be suspicious of everyone, to always have to thoroughly think about everything you do. You plop down on your couch, grabbing the remote and turning the TV on. There's a cartoon going on. Tom and Jerry, a cat chasing, or at least trying to, a mouse. But the mouse's well smarter than the cat. 

Each time he thinks he'll catch it, the mouse finds a way to turn the situation to his advantage. Because in fact, the cat will never win. He has the illusion of strength because of his height, when the mouse is vicious, malign. 

Also, if the cat caught the mouse, well, the show wouldn't have any interest anymore. 

On the screen, the mouse finds a way to slam the door in the cat face, who's dizzy. To illustrate it, stars and birds are rotating around his head.

You don't know why the mouse does all this, maybe to survive. The small animal found the comfort of a warm house with good cheese and doesn't want to leave. The cat, however, is forced to chase it all day. As his owners force him to. It's his role, as the house guard, to chase rodents. Otherwise, he'll be replaced. 

You have to be really damn fucked for you to start analyzing a stupid cartoon. 

Jeez, it's a cat chasing a mouse, it's silly, it's fun to watch. You don't think, just turn off your brain and have fun. Why can't you do just that ?

Sighing, you change channel, trying to find something worth watching. You end up watching the news, it keeping you grounded. It helps you think you're not the worst case, that there's always worse somewhere. It's deeply selfish, but hey, you can't do much about it. Your life is pretty much ruined at the moment. 

What's today's problem? Well this time, the subject is centered around climate change and its catastrophes.

"Global warming. Today, in Spain, alarming news. The national temperature has increased considerably by 46°F (5°C) since last year. The Spanish are revolted, the world is encountering a record in warmth. Their main claim, she reads her notes, "It's summer's weather when we're in autumn." She briefly gulps her saliva. "Indeed, the local heat reached 86°F (30°C) while 73°F (23°C) at night. IPCC's report is alarming, something has to change. Is the world government going to act ?" She quits her serious tone and changes the subject. "Local news; what's happening in Gotham today ?"

Ah, here you go. You turn up the volume. 

"Earlier in the main avenue today, several store signs were vandalized by a group of masked men, it is thought to be perpetrated by an illegal organization. It's a real raid that happened, terrorizing the passers-by and owners. The identity of the delinquent stays unfounded. We know that the police department is currently working on..."

You mute the TV. Vandalizing stores, now ? They didn't even steal anything, who does that ? On the screen, a replay of surveillance cameras showing masked men running, pushing people and only stopping to draw weird shapes on a few of the stores. It's bad, but not quite as bad as your case. Putting the sound back, you're perfectly timed with the conclusion of the event. 

"Where is Batman ? Has the vigilante abandoned our city ? We hope for his prompt return in time for him to apprehend the Joker." 

Batman, right. You forgot that man was even existing. While some wonder who is hiding behind the mask, you're left questioning yourself on which side is he. If he's with the cops, is he a good or bad man ? Police is part of the problem, certainly. But Batman sometimes helps people, although you never encountered him yourself. But is he really with the police ? 

Who is he working with ? And why is he what he is ?

"Whatever... You rub your eyes."

Why do you even keep thinking about that, it's not your problem anymore. You're leaving. Gotham has nothing left for you. Batman can do whatever he wants, for all you care. He doesn't know about your insignificant existence, why waste it thinking of him ? 

But are you really leaving this place, though ? 

Are you really about to leave your life and flee like a coward ? Yes, is the obvious answer. You could think about it, is the less obvious answer. 

Yes, your life is at stake. On the other hand, Sean could really be useful as you're still in danger as long as you stay in Gotham, he's a considerable ally in this story. And not only Sean but his family as well could help you. 

You know about his aunt. That woman is quite well known. A powerful gang chief. You could pay her to get escorted outside of Gotham. You're already indebted anyway, you have nothing to lose anymore. Moreover, nothing guarantees your safety once outside of Gotham. If the Joker is as feared as shown in the media, changing city won't be enough. Which is why you need to clear the problem directly from the root. 

Okay, you won't lose anything in going, right ? Maybe your life, but it's worth a try. You'll join Sean. Yes, you'll join him. 

When the time arrived, you couldn't shake that uneasy feeling taunting you all while preparing yourself. What if someone chases after you ? What if you get kidnapped ? You won't, of course you won't. Sean will be there when you arrive. He's dissuading enough. He's a big man. 

You found yourself before the gigantic mall before even being able to process it. It was crowded, people entering and getting out every second. For a moment, your eyes search for Sean in the rabble only to find no one. He's probably inside, it's safer. 

Tightly holding the hood stuck on your head, you stare intensely at whoever crosses your path, trying to gain enough courage to finally enter the building. 

It's scary to be wanted, the displeasing impression everyone's looking at you is suffocating. You could get killed, right now. Abducted, even. 

When the automated doors open, you're greeted by the cold air conditioning. It's autumn, why the hell would someone want to freeze to death ? 

Checking your phone, there's still no sign of Sean. He couldn't possibly stand you up, right ? He's the one who insisted for you to come. It wouldn't be logical. He's just late.

You can't really afford to be waiting in your situation, every second matters. You don't know what will happen. And, yeah, you're kind of starting to freak out. You don’t know where your wanted poster ended up. Maybe you’re already dead, and, shit, you're alone in such a vulnerable position. Fuck, why did you come ?

You’re trying to stay rational, thinking of every possibility as to why he’s not here. You nod your head to yourself, trying to ease your nerves. He'll come. You just need a little patience. He said he needed to prepare things beforehand, that's why he's late. He's late because he'll help you. 

You miss the mall, it's been long since you last came here, too preoccupied with your two jobs. You used to like watching people but quickly stopped. First, you once or twice made an awkwardly long eye contact with a man who then wanted to beat you up for provoking him, "like a pussy". Then, the second reason is that people are just... Mean. You'd look at a pretty woman only for her to spit on the ground. In the street is already disgusting enough, but the mall ! You'll look at a man hugging a woman, just to realize that they both don't know each other and that he's drunk out of his mind. 

Maybe you do need to get out of here, actually. 

Your phone still hasn't buzzed, you need to do something with your body or you’ll go crazy. It’s obvious staring daggers at your device every second won’t help. He's not here yet, you need to accept it and wait. You'll walk a little to not get noticed, your tensed and motionless body language is screaming suspicious and people are starting to side eye you. 

It’s only natural of your legs to start bringing you to the places you used to go to, only to realize that one of your favorite stores closed permanently. Of course, with the crisis. It’s not surprising. 

"Fucking morons..." Mutters a man to your left. Upon looking in his direction, you meet the owner of the voice standing on a stepladder, trying to energetically scrub with a sponge his store's sign. Key word being 'trying' as it's not successful. 

Right, earlier's vandals. 

He's cursing to himself, scrubbing progressively more aggressively the almost intact big black 'O' tagged on the sign mocking him. 

"Can I know who did that? asked your curiosity. 

-Fucking assholes, he answers without even looking your way, that's who did that. 

-What do they looked like ?

-No idea, he grumbles. They all had that stupid mask on. All white with some blue and red. No idea what that was supposed to be. Ask the other owners if you're so interested, but you're late. Journalists already left. 

Oh, right. He thinks you’re a journalist. 

-Thank you, have a nice day sir.

-Yeah yeah…”

You heard several stores were vandalized, where are the others ? Letting your legs wander, you get your answer a few meters/feet away. A sign is hanging by an electric thread. 

It’s a shoe store, but its signboard was now displaying a big black 'O'. You lift a brow, confused about its meaning. Usually, tag either insults or convey a message. Anyhow, there's a sense. Now though, you can't quite pinpoint it. O, what starts with an O. Optimism, oppression, obedient omelette ? It can be anything. Maybe it's not a letter, but a signature? 

Two stores away (you see it out of the corner of your eye) another of these is vandalized, this time, a bold 'B' was written. What word could this correspond to? B for Batman ? It's not a word, mostly a name. Baby, maybe. Bomb, bag, anything. Hell, it could even be badminton for all you know. 

Next letter is directly after the previous one, a 'S' hiding the dress logo the sign was exhibiting prior. The paint is dripping a little and one or two drops can be seen on the ground. 

"Those damn scum." a man grumbles, who you think might be the owner of the poor store. He crosses his arms on his chest, looking up disapprovingly. 

You ignore him, now thrilled by all of this. You want to discover all the tags. It's not like you have much better to do anyway. Sean still hasn't answered you. You know what to do to wait: find words for each letter. S makes you think of sabotage, skull and soup. 

You see the next letter from afar, this time, an "E" welcomes you. Though, this one was partially erased. You guess the owner found the right product. It's now possible to read the sign and enjoy the sweet sight of what seems to be a sex shop sign. Is it even legal ? There's kids coming into this mall. Anyway, a lot of words start with E; Electric, Ebola, education, eagle. 

You don't find the next letter right away, needing to walk a little to find it. But when you do, you're weirdly excited. It's just a bunch of words on some signboards, yet, it's fun. Like an orienteering race. But mostly because you don't get to have much fun today, and this being out of your quotidian, it's easy to be ecstatic.  

Further away, it's not one but two letters that greets you; two "S", entwined like snakes. Shit, is it a nazi kind of tag ? It looks like the police's symbol there was back then. If that’s the case, you don’t find this as exciting as before. Not a good thing to write. There's already so much chaos here, you pray nazis are not going to be added to it. You think of the word 'Swiss' for this letter.

Next letter is an 'I'. Investigation, investment, ice. A woman bypasses you, hitting your shoulder with her. You squeal out of surprise, the woman doesn't even notice you. What a shitty town. You check your phone again, making sure Sean didn't try to contact you. No reply. 

Walking ahead, the next vandalized store needs you to turn to the left to be seen, it's an 'O', again. But you don’t have the time to think of words that you already see the next letter. It’s a ‘N’. Night, Nemo (as in the movie) and nuisance. You already found words starting with ‘O’ anyway. It seems to be the last one as you walk and turn but no others appear. Disappointment lingers, sad it ended so soon. 

What is it, does it form a word at the end ? Like street art ? Maybe, a shame you already forgot all the previous letters. It was fun, though. You'd do it again, it's entertaining. Like a track game where you follow a path. Vibrations are bringing you back to reality, rushing to take it, you rotate to leave the place in order to find somewhere calmer. In your haste, you bump straight into someone. You freeze for a second, phone in hand.

They’re wearing a mask, a clown mask on their black hair. And a really ugly one. It’s shiny, like plastic and it surely is. Their eyes are the only thing you see through the holes. Whoever that is is staring right into your damn soul. Their eyes are empty, so empty you might think they’re on some kind of drug. The big red nose in the middle of their face is mocking you, laughing at you to be scared of something so ridiculous. Two small tufts of green hair are standing on each side of his head, the false bloody teeth drawn on the mask is the final touch that tells you to leave.

“Sorry.” you mumble, avoiding eye contact.

Your hands are holding your phone so tightly that fear strikes you that you could actually break the screen. The clown does not move when you walk past him, and you realize right then and there that they were well too close to you for it to be normal. You hate clowns, you hate them so much. All of this because of that stupid Joker. That person probably wasn’t even related to him, maybe he was one of the vandals. You don’t know, you don’t want to.

When you pick up Sean’s call, he apologizes for being late and plans an area for you to meet. You’re before the sex shope tagged by the “E” by the time Sean joins you. You’re not as convinced as before to destroy the problem from its root after the clown encounter. You’re not a hero, not a criminal. You’re nothing, you don’t have anything to prove to anybody. You should leave.

“You okay ? You look like you saw a ghost ? He laughs, but he’s not your friend so you don’t.

-So ? Got out much more coldly than you intended it to be.

-Jeez, you’re impatient. I’ll help you, I told you I would, right ?

You did, doesn’t mean you really will. You cross your arms on your chest, approaching him for him to hear you more clearly.

-Do you have any information ? Ways to get me out of here ? To resolve this ? Anything ?

He sighs, stepping back as if you’re the plague and looking elsewhere in the crowd. He seems conflicted, forehead creased by his worry.

-I can’t tell you now, walls have ears.

-Then why the fuck would you tell me to join you here ? If you’re so scared to be spied on, we could have continued this discussion at my place.

Your tension is building up. It’s fucking frustrating to talk with him. He starts teasing you with interesting information, then, he retreats and acts as if nothing happened and you’re just impatient. He told you to come here, he told you he’d help you.

-At least answer my questions, you plead, I don’t even know who… Who is the Joker ? Who is he exactly ? He physically tensed, his shoulders literally hunched forwards. What the hell ?

-Well, uh, it's complicated.

Damn, even that couldn’t be answered. Why are you still here ?

-What do you mean it's complicated ? Is he a terrorist ? A thief ? A gang leader ? A serial killer ? It's a simple question.

-He's a little bit of everything, truly.

Why does he always seem so nervous talking about him ?

-Sean for the love of God, he’s not here ! people are starting to look in your direction, but you couldn’t care less. You can calm down, he won’t kill you ! You gotta breathe a little, man. Aren’t you the one who literally told me he wasn’t after me ? It’s not the first time you’re lying to me and I’m starting to lose it. Why am I here ? Tell me, why are we fucking here if you’re not gonna help me ! Who is this man and what does he want ? Why does he want to kill me ! It’s…” a gunshot whistles in the air, cutting you in your sentence straight away, screams erupting from all sides.

Your body acts before you can think, throwing yourself on the ground. It’s hard to understand what’s going on, but in a way, you don’t try to. You get up quickly and lose yourself in the running and yelling crowd. Your paranoia is not helping, was this gunshot aimed at you ? Sean is somewhere in the mall, but it’s too late. You gave him a chance, he wasted it.

Another gunshot echoes, followed closely by the sound of a glass breaking. Your senses are overwhelmed; names, insults, orders are being yelled. Is the Joker here ? You need to get out of here, now. Bodies are pushed against yours, your clothes are being tugged on. But when you were about to reach the exit, someone harshly grabs you out of the crowd, pulling you aside. It’s panic in your head, survival instinct kicking in. You yank your arm out of the person’s hold but freeze upon seeing Sean threaten you with a gun.

“Sean, you start with a shaky voice, what the fuck ? his eyes are cold, you don’t recognize him. He looks at you as if you're nothing, as if you're no one.

-He’s here, he states, looking paranoidly to the sides. He’s… He’s going to kill me if I don’t bring you to him.

-Bring me to who, Sean ? But you fear you might already know.

-The Joker.

Of course he’d betray you. Who are you kidding ? You knew, you knew he would trap you. Your eyes can’t leave the sight of the gun barrel, following each of its movements. He’s shaking, you realize. Is he scared, hesitating ? Or motivated by a hatred so pure he can’t even control his own feelings ?

-Sean, you try nonetheless, he’ll kill you either way okay ? He’s a sadist, we can… you gulp, throat suddenly burning dry. We can leave together, we’ll leave the city and…

-You don’t understand, do you ? He’ll track you, he’ll track us down. And then, he’ll slaughter us like pigs. You hear me ? He’ll slaught…

-I get it ! I get it ! you scream, shutting your eyes in order to erase those images from your head.

How can you even change his mind ? You doubt he’d fold with some speech about your friendship. It’s not like you two were that close to be honest. Sure, you liked him but that changed since the beginning of the Joker catastrophe.

-He promised me money, he explained himself. As if you’d forgive him after hearing his justification. A lot of money. You can’t understand what it’s like to… when you see him lower his weapon, you interrupt him, drived by your anger.

-How can you be so stupid ? He was, he truly was an idiot for believing the Joker. You haven’t known that beast for long, but each time someone defined him, it was always along the lines of wicked, treacherous, vicious and ruthless. So yeah, he was stupid. Was your life worth something as insignificant as money ? Has he ever liked you ?

-Shut up ! I’m done living like a fucking tramp !

Tramp is a big word coming from him, daddy pays him everything ! You’re tired of his tantrums, he is a grown man, ten or fifteen years older than you and he’s acting like a child. Suffering is your quotidian as well, but you would’ve never betrayed him. In fact, that is your problem. You’re not a scumbag like him, that’s why you can’t stand him. You have no value similar to his, if he even has some. By what right does he think he can use you to get, what, a few dirty money ?

If you're going to die, at least you'll die telling him every resentment you had towards him.

-You think I am happy ?! Your life’s better than mine ! Fuck you Sean, you’re an asshole ! You’re a fucking asshole ! You’re the one that should die !

-Shut the fuck up you whore !

A burning pain sliced through you along a sharp sound, legs losing all strength and making you fall on the ground. Your ears are ringing and your breath is cut for a few long seconds. What happened ? Is the first question popping in your head, but the atrocious pain coursing through your leg answers you. Your hand touches your hurting limb, but retreats it instantly at the pain. So you look down.

Blood, there’s blood everywhere.

It’s yours. It’s… It’s your damn blood, you’re bleeding. You have a hole in your leg and it’s gushing out blood. He shot you. Fuck, oh God, oh God, you’re bleeding. You’re fucking bleeding and it hurt like hell. It hurt so damn bad, why, why did he do that ? Your eyes are stinging and soon, tears fall down your cheeks. Are you going to die ? Here ? With nothing accomplished ? Alone ? Shot by the only man you thought was your friend ?

-I believe alive was written on the contract.

You recognize that voice, you hear it in your nightmares.

-Joker ! I… She tried to run away, I had to immobilize her !

It’s weird, your body is exhausted, yet, the pain is keeping you well awake. Your head is heavy when you lay it on the dirty ground of the mall. Eyes trailing slowly to the two men talking. Finally, he’s here before you. He’s shown himself. Even if it’s only the second time you see him, you talked and heard about him so much these past hours it feels like you’ve been with him for months. And maybe you were, in a way. Sean walks past you, not glancing towards your drained body on the ground. He’s scared of him. He plays the big man with you, but he’s a little bitch.

How is Sean, a man built like a fridge, so terrified of someone so ridiculous as the Joker ?

Who is he ?

The pain in your leg makes it feel numb and at the same as alive as it never been. The Joker sighs exaggeratedly, he tilts his head to the side to look at you. Shivers shake your whole body. Is that it ? This is the man who’ll abduct you ? You’d rather get killed instantly.

-And right on Valentine’s day...” mumbles the Joker.

It’s not, it’s autumn. Valentine’s day is in February, in winter. From your position, police sirens are heard and red and blue lights are flashing, reflecting on the windows. The Joker takes out a gun out of his long purple jacket and aims it towards Sean.

“Please ! He yells. I-I did what you wanted ! She’s here, please don’t kill me ! I’m a hitman, I’ll work for you !

Is he, now ? He's barely a barman.

-Do I look like I'm searching for employees ? He asks, opening his arms and bending his hands for his palms to face the ceiling before looking around him for confirmation. Because I’m not.”

You're torn between relief and horror at the sight of Sean falling to the ground after another gunshot, bathing in his own blood. He did betray you, he brought you here, he brought this upon you, upon himself. But he’s dead. You wished him to, but now that he is you’re horrified.

It’s then that you realize that The Joker is surrounded by his masked goons. Probably the one who vandalized the store, now that you think about it. You walked right into his trap.

“Well ? What are you waiting for ? he asks almost comically. Bring the package to the car !

When several men surrounds you, you're left yelling and fighting to get out of their holds, in vain, of course. The blood gushing out of your hurting limb isn't helping much, anyway. You feel your strength slowly evaporate from you.

Shotguns echoes, but your ringing ears prevent you to precisely locate it. Soon, they throw you in the back of a car and close the door, leaving you in the dark.

Gotham killed you.  

[ninacarstairss]

an incomplete list of things that will make me go feral if they’re included in the movie:

alex pulling henry in the red room and “impugning his virtue” against a painting of alexander hamilton and amy out the door pretending not to know what that horny little bitch of fsotus is up to

henry offering to get out of alex’s life to make it easier for him and alex brushing it off, only to realise later what henry was truly offering him and how stupid he was not to see it

oscar talking to alex at the lake house. oscar seeing him and accepting him. alex looking at henry, nora and june (yes i know she’s not in the movie just let me dream. he can be looking at henry, nora and pez too) and feeling like his world is complete. the night on the porch swing. sometimes you just jump and hope it’s not a cliff. the night in the lake. the little stone of certainty alex feels in his chest as he’s making breakfast.

yeah so just the lake house part

uma thurman delivering a power point presentation about dating the prince of england and alex running out when she brings up protections and pamphlets

jesus, could you stop being an obtuse fucking asshole for, like, twenty seconds?

so glad you flew here to insult me—

i fucking love you, okay?

the issue of le monde that henry keeps on his nightstand from the first time they woke up together

i want you. then fucking have me—

alex waking up in kensington in an empty bed, henry coming back, looking at alex and going “your hair in the morning is truly a wonder to behold” before making the world’s best declaration of love

“When he got older, he learned about love as a strange thing that could fall apart no matter how badly you wanted it, a choice you make anyway. He never imagined it'd turn out he was right both times.” there is like a 0,1% chance of this making it into the movie but i have this tattooed on my skin and it would be so perfect to see it on screen

alex saying in front of the fucking queen that he wants henry’s children

henry rambling about art and history in the v&a and alex pulling him into a kiss because he just loves him so much

i’m taking a picture of a national gay landmark. and also a statue

alex panicking about henry having to enlist

shaan having to dislodge philip from the chandelier when henry comes out to him

i’ve been gay as a maypole since i came out of mum, philip

henry’s obsession with jaffa cakes and mr wobbles

the memories email. I took that down to the gardens. I pressed it into the leaves of a silver maple and recited it to the Waterloo Vase. It didn't fit in any rooms.

alex being a brat about the turkeys “put them in my room put them in my room put them in my room”

And then, inexplicably, you had the absolute audacity to love me back. Can you believe it?

alex calling henry at christmas and telling him all about his family drama and henry simply telling him that he did his best, the only thing he really needed to hear

most things in this world are awful . but you are good

alex’s list of things he loves about henry (especially points 16 to 18)

henry writing down the list in the email and then calling henry anyway because he knows he likes to have these things written down but he needs to talk to him

alex kissing henry in front of a giambologna

Sería una mentira, porque no sería el.

the drunk bad metaphors about maps email

alex being summoned by the president after the email leaks and ellen just asking him “are you okay?”

alex’s whole family being there for him after the email leaks, hugging him through a panic attack and allowing him to be himself after a traumatic event that had to be dealt with in a strategic political way

or so help me God I will personally make your balls into fucking earrings. zahra you fucking queen

the call from the plane. “sweetheart” he hears henry’s exhale over the line. “hi love. are you okay?”

alex and henry running to hug each other as soon as alex gets to kensington

i won’t lie. not about you. alex and henry saying at the same moment that they want to do this, they want to tell the truth, because lying about this is not an option

the little touches between them. whether it’s holding hands beneath a buchkingham palace table or hugging in a closed room or pressing a knee agains the other in a public place, because that is a tether, a gravity that makes the world make sense

bea’s speech about grief and how it’s like a pie. i want to cry really hard

numbers on one of us getting involved in a sex scandal before the end of second term?

henry sticking out his chin in that defiant way

I love him, with all that, because of all that. On purpose. I love him on purpose.

"Plus we banged it our last night” shaan and zahra being a power couple

bea dumping the tea pot on philip and going “all that cocaine i did must have really done a job on my reflexes!”

the han and leia mural

dc dykes on bikes chasing protesters

To you, specifically, I say: I see you. I am one of you. As long as I have a place in this White House, so will you. I am the First Son of the United States, and I'm bisexual. History will remember us.

alex’s face being plastered on chocolate bars and thongs with henry’s after the royal suitor photos

henry telling alex he’s opening the queer shelters worlwide. henry telling alex he bought a brownstone in brooklyn

the flashbacks to election night 2016 when alex saw zahra crying and all those women taking in the moment their first madam president was elected

alex and henry biking through austin, alex opening the door to his childhood home with henry by his side

a little flash forward into their future and alex calling henry the love of his life, henry choosing the place for a credenza in his brownstone, going on vacations together and falling in love all over again, savouring their time together with no fear of getting caught, june and nora finally kissing and alex being shook at pez’s comment, henry realising he doesn’t want to ever go back, henry listening to alex talk to his mum about marriage when he has also bought a ring, henry and alex buying a house far from the public eye, having the quiet life they never had, june subletting the brownstone to be closer to pez and nora, “you and me”

[jokingmisfit]

Yandere Rick Sanchez ABC's

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Rick acts relatively normal with affection until he gets drunk, then he is all over you and very persistent. You're also screwed if you're around him when toxic Rick comes around. He tries to keep everything to a minimum, but everyone can tell he's in love with you. Rick will flirt and do practically anything for you thats how he shows his love aside from the hand somehow always touching you.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Rick has little to no regard for life. The only people safe from getting killed in his attempt to get you are yours family and his.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

He may be condescending, but it's all in an attempt to convince you that you need him.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

All the time. Rick doesn't feel he needs your permission for anything except sex, of course. You have no idea the amount of gadgets he has hidden in/around you.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Rick isn't the type to just drop to his knees and tell his "sob story". He doesn't get too emotional unless you really push him to be or if he's super super drunk.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

He's soo annoyed and kinda hurt. He just wants to protect you.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

Rick isn't like Prime. He doesn't see your life as a game and he doesn't see you as a toy; he wants you safe not being a bitch.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

You'll never know, because he erases that memory. Or y'know he traumatized you cause you left him.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Rick doesn't care much about the future; he has more pressing matters in the present. The only thing he thinks of is making sure you're safe no matter the situation.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

He kills them. Rick isn't afraid to admit he can be a bit dramatic, but human/alien life means so little to him and you mean so much. If you encouraged it then he's gonna be so pissed, and you won't be seen for days 😉.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

The same as always. He acts normal, but he has you stuck to his side while he's whispering inside jokes and flirting.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

The man is a flirt! Rick WILL make it obvious. He gives you things, flirts, insults you less than the others, drags you from conversations, and will straight up say he likes you.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Not really, but he is much softer and kinder to you than anyone else. If it wasn't for his own god complex he'd worship you. Rick will still act like a hard ass but he'll call you cringy cute nicknames, hold your hands/you, make silly jokes/puns, and smother you in love.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Mostly Rick just fucks with you emotionally. He'll make you feel bad for just existing. If you're both horny however he is absolutely into bondage and spanking.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Mostly just your freedom and some memories. You're restricted to the home unless he's with you.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

He'll let you take your time adjusting to your new life, but if it's just everyday bullshit he's patient as he is with everyone else. Rick may love you, but that doesn't mean you can be a little shit all the time.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

Leave or escape and Rick will hunt your ass down till he "brings you home". If you die then he'll do one or more of four things, find and destroy what killed you, clone you, bring you back to life, and/or move on slowly and unhealthily.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Rick feels guilty even though he pretends not to. He'd consider letting you go if you let him baby safety proof you and your place. Then again it'll take a ton of begging.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Losing his Diane and Beth play a huge part in these feelings. His isolation while grieving and travelling also plays a big part.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

It really upsets him. At first he'll try to play it off or comfort you, but if he can't calm you he'll just get super drunk to numb the pain.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

I think most yanderes have a limit to their abilities; the scariest part about Rick is he can do almost anything, and he will use this against you.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

His need for adventure. Rick can't go too long without one. If you're smart enough to jump through the many, many loops he sets up to keep you there then your best bet is to do it while he's out adventuring.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

No, absolutely not; at least not physically. Mentally, however, Rick will scar you for life.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

He doesn't worship you, actually, he expects to be worshiped. Rick does adore though. The man thinks you're borderline perfect; if there was a god it made you for him. He's definitely nicer to you than others, he'll give you weird trinkets and gadgets, and practically do anything you ask while complaining all for the goal of winning your favor and cause he's a simp.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

Surprisingly, Rick is patient while pining. He understands he's not the most desirable or friendly man. I'd say he can go for a year or so before he gets impatient, however if your life is threatened you are being taken home with him indefinitely.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

I wouldn't necessarily say "break", but if you make him desperate enough he will 100% use mind control.

[magnoliacharmed]

I’ll Show You A Winner

(not my gif!)

18+, Shawn Michaels x Fem!Reader one shot

[Also available on Archive of Our Own!]

Word count: 1,282

Tags: Referenced drug use (cocaine), Referenced alcohol use, rough sex, hair pulling, choking, face slapping, voice kink, scratching, biting, bruises, condomless sex, reader is a total bitch, Shawn is mean

Summary:

Shawn gets mean with you after you make fun of him for losing a match.

Author's note: haha... yeah

“Aww, are you mad Shawn? Gonna cry about another lost match? God, you’re such a pussy sometimes.”

“What’d you say?”

“I said that you’re a crybaby. Mad that the world doesn’t always revolve around you. Guess all that politicking with Vince didn’t work, huh?”

“Hmm.”

“Didn’t wear your prettiest earrings to his office?”

Suddenly Shawn’s weight engulfed you into the plush mattress. Man he could move fast. His face was splotchy red after the last few hours you two spent drinking and snorting cocaine. It was a poor choice for the night since he was already in such a sour mood. As the hours passed by, he got angrier and angrier. The way you were picking at him wasn’t helping either.

“Some man you are.”

Your noses touched and his light smattering of facial hair scratched against you as he stared into your eyes. His breathing was heavy, so heavy you would’ve thought he just got done in the ring. The way his head cocked to the side made a warning sign flash in your head. The bull was being prodded too much. You didn’t have time to get another insult ready when Shawn’s hand clenched hard into your hair. It felt like he was going to tear it out with how strong his grip was. The pain radiated through your head and neck in a strangely delicious way.

“You wanna see what kinda man I am, honey? I’ll show you.”

Shawn’s breathing quickened as he moved his free hand down to unhook his belt. Just as soon as his pants were down enough, he hiked your dress up to your waist.

Your lips moved in a whispered frenzy by his ear, blond locks of his wavy hair shielding the rest of the room from you. “Can you even get it up, cokehead?” Your laugh was mean… and just the slightest bit panicked.

“Keep talkin’. I’ll shut you up soon enough.”

Shawn’s voice lacked the passion it usually had when he was pissed. You knew that when he was yelling and screaming it would pass pretty shortly. He just needed an outlet. When he was truly upset though? His already deep and raspy tone got even lower. It made your panties flood and your eyes widen. You were really in for it now.

With an aggressive push into you, Shawn began to thrust against your walls. You weren’t quite as prepared as usual, so your voice exclaimed out with a squeak. He continued to stare in your eyes with a look that was miles past angry. There was determination flowing through his veins to win. He couldn’t succeed in the ring tonight, that much was true. But he could make you shut up and could definitely make you come.

Your own hand flew up to grasp at his hair with force. Two could play that game. The feeling of you being so close to pulling it out made him go harder inside you. made him feel alive even more so than the coke. His neck strained as he reached down to kiss you roughly with no warning. Your muscles tightened around his length when his teeth bit your bottom lip.

“You like it when I’m rough, don’t you? Such a slut for me.”

Shawn shook his head in disappointment, but you both knew that he was loving this. His accent, that Texan drawl that made you melt, was especially heavy when he spoke. He could be as harsh as he wanted— as long as he kept talking you through it.

Before you could respond back, Shawn released his grip from your hair and instead wrapped his hand around your neck. You gushed below him, wet sounds filling the room when you adjusted your legs to surround his waist. You got a little dazed and lightheaded at the lack of air you were getting. Mirroring him, you decided to choke him back. It was too bad you weren’t strong enough to put as much pressure on his neck as he had on yours, but that didn’t seem to matter to him. The slight squeeze you could give was enough for him to groan loudly above you.

Your vision darkened around the edges. Shawn was pounding you into the mattress while he continued to restrict your airflow. You did your best to grind into every one of his forceful thrusts, your clit shooting bolts of pleasure through you whenever it brushed against him. He smiled at you in that cocky sort of way he liked to whenever he was winning. You got some air back when he moved your head up to angle more at him. He was fucking the bitchy resolve right out of you, tears building at the corners of your eyes at how he stretched you out.

“And look who’s crying now! It’s so pathetic it’s cute.” His cruel voice rumbled and reverberated through your body in hedonistic bliss.

Shawn used his other hand to grab your jaw and hold you in place. He was much stronger than you and your body was beginning to get weak at the impending orgasm threatening to wrack through you. Those soft blue eyes of his were crazed when he stuck his tongue out. You immediately stuck yours out too to swirl around his lewdly, hoping he’d push you into another kiss. Despite everything he’d been doing to you, this felt the most inappropriate.

That was until he slapped you.

It wasn’t very hard at all. It was more of a surprise than anything. Shawn immediately caressed the stinging skin of your cheek, then rubbed the pad of his thumb against your bruised bottom lip. With little force he pushed his thumb into your mouth for you to suck on. You did so gratefully with a dumb sort of expression on your face.

A mocking sigh breathed from his lips. “You disgust me.”

Stars began to overtake your vision before your eyes rolled back in your head. Your hands pawed at his back in desperation. The deep scratches you were leaving weren’t your problem. He could just keep his shirt on the next time he had to be on TV. With every claw mark up the expanse of his well toned back Shawn’s movements stuttered even more. The way you looked at him right before you came, so innocent and doe eyed, sent him right past the edge and over the moon. Shawn filled you with his come until his entire body fell limp above you. It took the last little bit of energy he had to unwrap your legs from around him and roll over to the other side of the bed.

Both of you laid on your backs and breathed heavily into the open air. You felt Shawn shift beside you to stare at your heaving chest. Your cheek didn’t look too bad, but your bottom lip was puffy and your neck was bruised. Your hair was a bird’s nest above you from the pulling. Shawn wasn’t in great shape either. The scratches on his back actually hurt down now that the adrenaline was fading. The alcohol and coke made his face bloated and a headache form at his temples. He was pretty sure that strands of his already thinning hair were pulled out from the way you grabbed at him. Your nails dug marks into the side of his neck that were hard to look at.

In the end, none of that mattered. He won.

“Fuck, Shawn. That was amazing.” Your voice was laced with awe.

“Of course it was, honey.”

“That’s cause you’re the best.” You dragged yourself over to lay against his chest, drowsiness pulling you down into a deep sleep.

“Damn straight.”