#walter kovacs x reader

[purplelupins]

A Pretty Butterfly

|The Watchmen|

Rorschach x fem!reader

Summery: Watching a stranger from your windows quickly turned into a human connection you craved. You just wanted to help this strange man who walked past your home everyday…but it seemed you got more than you had bargained for.

Warnings: SLOW BURN, violence, mentions of rape and assault, age-gap (reader is mid -late 20’s and Rorschach is 45) smut, dub-con, fingering, obsession, stalking, anxiety, Rorschach being a tit, pessimistic thoughts, self-sabotage, sunshine and grumpy old man dynamic

Word count: 13.8k words

MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE YOU WILL BE BLOCKED IF YOU DO FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DONT READ THIS

Notes: In the film, they claim Rorschach is 35, but the comic has him at 45 so I went with that instead. a special thanks to my buddy @mandowifey for sending me down this rabbit hole and helping me out with my scatter brain🤍

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You didn’t mean to stare.

That was a lie.

…a half lie.

You liked to watch, but you didn’t mean to latch onto one face in particular when you peered out of your window. You never really had before; perhaps the odd flamboyantly dressed hooker or someone with outrageously done hair, but you couldn’t say you had ever taken notice of someone who seemed so inconsequential.

It was his red hair that made you look twice, at first.

From your little window, above a small tea shop that was run by a family who smelled of jasmine, you first saw that little man who wandered the streets of New York with his picket sign.

“The end is nigh” it said.

The first time you saw it, it made you laugh a little. So pessimistic. You wondered why he felt the need to forecast such a statement to the city. Was the end all he could see? Was there no good in his eyes?

Silly, you thought, to busy yourself with a stranger’s story that you had fabricated entirely in your mind.

But then the second time you saw him, those words made you think.

Perhaps it was close- the end, that is. The more and more that chauvinistic Dooms Day Clock ticked, the more you started to believe that man.

It was inevitable.

Perhaps it was close, too.

You wondered if he was unstable- mentally or otherwise. Wandering the streets when he should have been getting help. But the more you watched, the more you realised about him and his meandering walk; never once did you see him lash out or scream like you had seen so many times from those who injected and snorted and drank any substance they could get their hands on.

You watched him for months- accidental at first, then you found yourself checking outside your window to see if he was there. It was as if he was your own personal dooms-day clock- each time you saw him it was a tick. Somehow you found him far more comforting than the Armageddon timepiece the government kept.

Then you got tired of walking from your desk to the window, and moved it up against the glass. You told yourself there was no harm in thoughtfully gazing at someone…you weren’t harming him or yourself. You liked to pretend you were friends…though you knew he wasn’t even aware of your existence. You bet he had a million odd stories of the world around him- he looked far older than you. Older and harsher.

Then came the day that changed your private little relationship.

The day he stared back.

It had scared you half to death when you had been watching him in your usual daze- silly smile on your face and chin in your palm- and he had paused. He had looked down the street, stopped, then snapped his head up to look you in the eye. He was 25 feet below you yet he saw you so clearly and you felt stripped bare.

You had nearly fallen out of your chair to scramble away from the window; goosebumps had sprung up on your arms and your feet had pins and needles in them. Your heart had leapt into your throat and pounded furiously. It had taken you 10 minutes to finally inch back to the window. To your relief, he was no longer there, but then distress began to set in as you wondered if you had scared him off. He didn’t exactly look blessed with monetary abundance, and you doubted he appreciated a strange woman staring down at him.

The next day, you thought he might not pass your street; having a stranger watch him was likely not on his to-do list and there were hundreds of streets for him to march down instead of yours.

However, even though you agreed with this likelihood of him not coming back, you found yourself unable to complete any work until noon. A call from your employer was the only thing that snapped you out of your reverie, and even then, you could barely focus on your work.

Your knee bounced as you did your best to prioritize, and almost got lost in the work in front of you until out of the corner of your eye, you saw a flicker of red. It was embarrassing how fast you looked down, not that you truly cared.

Your heart jolted. He was there. You didn’t scare him off.

Then, he looked up again.

This time, you didn’t run. You held your ground…and even managed a little wave.

He didn’t wave back, and you even wondered if he saw it.

He only readjusted his sign over his shoulder and kept walking.

What an odd man.

Though you supposed you were just as odd to show such an interest in him.

Perhaps a little perverse…

You blanched at the thought; hoping to god that he didn’t think that.

While making dinner, a thought struck you. You made just a little extra food, and saved it in a container, even writing a note for yourself to not forget to give it to that strange man. You knew it was silly, and forward - truly very unlike you- but in a city where it was next to impossible to make any selfless human connection…you didn’t want this to go to waste. Even if he told you to piss off, at least you could sleep at night knowing you tried.

So you waited.

You truly hoped against hope that your wish to show compassion wouldn’t be seen as anything but what it was…though a part of you began to think you were practically asking for trouble or misinterpretation. The longer you sat the more nonsensical you felt as your knee bounced twice the speed of your heart beat.

It was almost 10 am when he came into your view, only this time it was as if he materialised out of nowhere instead of the slow walk from your right to your left.

You didn’t even wait to see if he would look up.

You didn’t let yourself think.

You dashed to your door, food in hand, and tore down the stairs to the small gate separating your home’s entrance from the figures trudging past. You opened it and stepped out onto the street, trying not to get stepped on by passers-by as you looked for him. To your luck, he was only ten feet down from your building, and before you could stop yourself, you quickened your pace to catch up.

“E-excuse me! Sir?” You called softly once you were behind him. The man came to a slow stop and turned- a stoic look on his face.

Now that this man was in front of you and was giving you his very real attention, you felt your lungs cease their function for a few seconds, no words forming in your mouth either.

He was handsome…in a strange sort of way.

He looked…jagged, and guarded.

Thin, short, and tired…but by god you couldn’t look away. Not until you realized you were staring again.

Simple and to the point.

You looked down at the container of food in your hands that was still warm.

“I’m- I apologise…I wanted you to have this…it’s getting cold.” You said, holding out the food to him.

Most impersonal act of kindness in recorded history, well done.

You returned your eyes to his face, and found him looking right back at you. Neither angry nor kind. He simply looked…beaten. Tired of his life…tired of the world…you didn’t know for certain. But you understood.

Somehow.

“I’m-…I’m sorry for staring. And I hope you’re not allergic to anything…um, there’s a fork in there, you can keep it, good to have, you know?” You knew you were rambling, and very aware that he hadn’t looked away from you once. You fought to hold his gaze, but admittedly it was an intimidating stare.

He turned to walk away, and you felt panic fill you.

“Please take it.” You tried again, but he didn’t say a word.

He silently left you standing there, and you felt like New York’s biggest idiot.

It was the rambling…defiantly the rambling. Oh maybe it was the act itself I mean he probably isn’t used to having that kind of- okay now that’s a bit of an over-assumption…he might have lots of people offering him kindness…and now you’re the one standing on the street staring at a lamppost.

…pull yourself together.

You watched him disappear, just like your pride; whatever had been left of it. Your shoulders began to sag as defeat settled into you and turned your tongue sour.

Which was why you decided to do the exact same thing again the next day.

You waited. Perfectly ready to not see him after that embarrassing display yesterday…but sure enough, there he was.

You noted that he did not not look up today, not that you blamed him.

You were out the door before you could dissuade yourself.

“Mister!” You called.

He didn’t turn this time.

You repeated yourself a little more clearly. “Mister!”

He kept walking. And somehow every time you almost caught up to him, he would slip out of your grasp.

You could only continue like that so far down the street, and eventually had to give up. He was stubborn…and you could be too. You didn’t know this man’s story, and if he didn’t see himself as good enough to receive kindness, then you could continue until he did understand…or until he called the police on you for harassment.

So you did it again. And again.

You told yourself you would try two more times and if he didn’t take them…that would be that. You would have to move on.

You made a rich stew, and even put a few pieces of bread in a bag for him. You steeled your shot nerves, and began to walk down to your entrance before even seeing him.

You saw him coming from a few blocks away, and very slowly made your way into his path. He gradually took in your form, but didn’t pause or even stop. Not until he was a foot from you. But you held your ground.

“Look…I’m not…I don’t know why you won’t let me help you, but I don’t want you to think I’m trying to get some gold star or have you boost my ego by being thankful…I just want to show you kindness and if that’s too much for yo-“

He held his hand out to you, palm up. He didn’t look away, and blinked slowly.

You might not have been the best at reading every person you met, but his message was obvious. “If I take it will you leave me alone?”

You grinned timidly, and placed the food in his hand gently. “Keep the container…they’re good to have.” You said under your breath almost out of habit- it had been something your mother did and now you found yourself doing.

He took it without another word, and you felt a pleasant heat bloom in your chest.

The next day, you childishly watched for him again- as if he was your Santa Clause or Tooth Fairy…although he looked like he might knock someone’s teeth out rather than give them a couple coins for them.

You made a soup that would fill him up and picked up an extra loaf of bread to give him. Both sat on your lap as you sat on your stoop, ready for him. You kept telling yourself you just wanted to help out a lonely soul like yourself, and that you weren’t developing a juvenile crush on the man who hadn’t even spoken to you.

You leaned out periodically to see if you could see him, and found yourself readying your nerves to confront him again.

You sighed and went to lean out again, only to freeze rigidly.

“M-morning-“ you squeaked.

The very man you were waiting for was standing just feet from you, staring, and his free hand in his pocket. As if he had come up from the gutters themselves.

You hadn’t prepared for this kind of sudden interaction, and found yourself mentally throttling your brain to do something.

Anything.

It seemed however that whatever god was above you decided to take mercy on you for once, and the man reached out his hand just as he had the day previously.

You wordlessly handed the food to him then remembered the bread. “Oh! This um is for you too…it’s fresh.” You added, pretending like your cheeks weren’t warm and your hands weren’t shaking.

You smiled gently, but it faded fast when you notices a small group of seedy men approaching the two of you. You didn’t like to instantly label people, but this particular flock of men were well known in the area…you had watched them many a time from the safety of your window.

You instantly began to shrink in on yourself, and it seemed your change in demeanour was enough to catch the older man’s attention. He followed your stare behind him, and his nose momentarily scrunched up in a displeased snarl. A mere twitch.

Vermin.

Rorschach felt something ugly build in him. He knew their faces well…rape, theft, assault, vandalism. These men were true scum under his boot…he hated that he couldn’t put them in their place without his face.

“Hey-yo mammi lookin good!”

“Hey you wanna lift that skirt a little more?”

“Whatcha doin with the little rat, hm?”

You could feel your heart rate pick up as they got closer, and you hoped that they didn’t realize you lived in that building. You wished you didn’t feel so small but-

The older man handed the food back to you without even looking. It was enough to bring you back to reality, and you took it quickly- the last thing you wanted was to antagonise him. Then he turned his body fully to the approaching group, and he waited patiently.

Your heart stopped. Was he about to-

He didn’t move from his stance in front of you, and he almost looked bored. Inconvenienced.

“The fuck you gonna do weasel?” One of them sneered.

That’s not very nice-

They’re not nice PEOPLE

You watched, terrified, as they got into his face and towered over him. The last thing you wanted was for him to get beaten for just being near you-

“What’s your fucking problem huh? Just gonna stare at us with those freak eyes cuz you can’t fight?” Another taunted, guffawing.

You winced, and your eyes unfocused…just like they used to-

But then, something in the men changed like a light switch. With his back to you and now a few feet away, you couldn’t tell if the man had said something, or done something, but what you did know was that the skinniest of the group was clapping the biggest on the shoulder and telling him “The little rat ain’t worth the trouble.” But there was an urgency in him what wasn’t there before.

The men huffed and some blew kisses at you which made you wrap your sweater tighter around yourself wishing you could disappear. Your eyes refocused as you heard them walk away, and you slowly looked over at the older man who was now half turning back to you.

You stared at him, your appreciation evident on you face. “I- Thank you sir…I don’t…” Don’t want to think of what might have happened if you weren’t here, you wanted to say, but you kept it simple instead. You sighed and shook your head, then held out your offering to him, and the bread you were sure he would like.

The man stared, and rose his right brow slightly, then took both from you. He turned and left you there as if it was a normal day.

Your heart was still beating wildly by the time he had left your sight, and you couldn’t help but feel a warmth spread through you as you thought about him defending you; even if it was simply him not in the mood to witness a young woman have her dignity taken…he had done something, and that made you stare after him longer than usual.

You didn’t ask why he came back at all.

Nor why he was right by your stoop that morning.

And you never inquired as to why he never asked why you didn’t give him money.

He knew why you didn’t. Perhaps not enough to make a full admission to himself but he sensed something in you…that stupid little girl. You didn’t give him money because money was too easy to fall into sin. Gambling, drugs, whores…all for money.

You wanted your kindness to stay as it was intended to be- good.

The warmth you had felt stewed in your stomach right through to the next day; you had made your way to your favourite shops early that morning and picked up a few bags of things to cook with. Then as you went to turn to your building, you paused.

You knew that red hair a mile away, and you only needed to look a few feet to see it resting against your stoop entrance.

He-

You looked around at nothing as if someone might tell you what you were seeing.

He was sat there on your building’s steps, newspaper in hand…reading. You considered continuing walking down the street and pretending like you didn’t see him or live there, but you felt silly even considering such a thing.

He didnt look up at you, and didn’t acknowledge you as you slowly approached the steps.

“Morning.” You said gently. Your cheeks began to flush when you looked at him- attempting to retrieve your keys from your pocket without tripping. It came out almost absentmindedly, seeing as you didn’t exactly want him to know that you had been fixated on how to approach him…although you supposed you had already had blown that when you watched for him every day and chased him with food…

He didn’t say a word.

An anxious knot began to tighten in your stomach. You truly didn’t know what to do…you didn’t want to seem rude if he just hadn’t heard you. You got to the first step and glanced down at your hot coffee. You wondered if he was able to speak at all…At this point, when you figured you were mostly talking to yourself and that he likely barely listened to a word you said.

“You need this more than I do…it’s September now…getting cold.” You bent down, hoping your paper bags didn’t rip, and placed it onto the second step by his boot.

You wanted to ask him why he was on your steps; wondered if he was waiting for you; wondered if he might clasp a hand over your mouth and slit your throat the moment you walked past him. It wasn’t that you wanted to think the worst, but after years of seeing the worst in the city, you couldn’t help it. You hoped that you were wrong, for you sanity’s sake.

The man still hadn’t acknowledged you, and your arms were growing heavy. With nothing left to do, you opted to walk past him and unlocked the door; chancing a glance back at his form. Perhaps you were delusional, but you swore you saw his head turning back to its original position. Had his gaze followed you?

A glance.

It was small and secret and you were elated.

You wasted no time in running up the stairs into your apartment, and grabbing the food you had saved from the night before. You counted the seconds mentally that it took for you to descend the stairs again, hoping it wouldn’t be enough time for the man to disappear.

You nearly tripped on the last step when you saw him standing and folding the newspaper. In another attempt to regain your composure, you slowed your pace as you came to the top of the stoop. You almost handed the food to him from there, but it made you feel like someone with a saviour complex instead of just trying to be nice. The tentative step you took down to his level seemed to finally grasp his vague attention as he looked down at your feet then up to your face.

You held the food out by his gloved hand.

“I hope you’re okay, mister.” You said earnestly, holding his gaze, “It’s horrible out there.” You didn’t know what made you say that, but it had been something that weighed on your mind for months…perhaps years. A dormant thought that his picket sign had awakened.

The man took the food, and it was then that you noted a certain despondency in his eyes. Perhaps it was the way his weathered face made them stand out so much more amongst the lines of age.

He left you there again just like he always did: silently.

Just as you were about to wander back up into your home, you glanced down and stopped and smiled.

There sat the coffee cup you had handed him.

It was empty.

Perhaps he was accepting your gestures in hopes of having you eventually leave him alone, but you were only fuelled by his recipiency. It became a routine for you to keep extra food for that man. Even if you ordered take-out, you kept some for him.

You noticed, however, that not long after you made contact with the strange man, a few things started happening to you that certainly had not before. In fact, you were beginning to ponder your sleep quality as you often woke up to far less food than when you had gone to sleep. Were you sleep walking? Or simply forgetting all together how much you had eaten?

Then came the dreams. At least a few times out of the week, your dream-addled mind swirled with unclear images of someone or something visiting you at night- a shadow, a whisper, a puff of smoke in the wind. You swore you woke up with things moved, but there was no forced entry that you could find, and thus you never thought more of it than you needing more sleep.

Weeks passed as you took it upon yourself to care for this man, even though he seemed to dislike the company. You knew he found you childish, it was beyond evident in his face when he stared at you. But even still, he took what you offered him, albeit begrudgingly.

Each time you saw him, a part of your heart felt bruised. Not that you pitied him -you were certain he would resent any pity- but you could tell when a person was damaged. Be it from something personal or the world itself…it didn’t matter. You were all hurt in your own way. You wondered how long it had been since someone was kind to him; had he known much kindness at all? Had he lost everything? Did he have anything to lose in the first place?

You hoped you could provide him with a tiny little ray of hope amongst the arduous reality.

Perhaps you were too optimistic like your mother had said when you were little…but you didn’t care. Not when it helped you sleep at night and get through the days of listening to the dwindling city below you.

But then, he stopped coming.

It had been a full month and a half since he had first accepted your offering. You had gotten so used to your routine that the first morning it happened, you felt sick- like a punch to your gut. You heart had dropped to your toes and your tongue felt heavy and your ears rang. You instantly thought the worst. Of course you tried to rationalise it, telling yourself that he most likely just wanted a change in his route and would be gone for that day…or perhaps he simply got sick and didn’t go for his usual walk.

When you sat there at your window, having gone back up dejectedly, you found yourself staring into nothingness. You hadn’t realized how attached you had become to that little man.

This man who never spoke had become a friend of sorts…some kind of stanger who gave you a tiny bit of human contact that you grew dependant on. It wasn’t as if he was kind to you, in fact he was a little standoffish when it came to you…you wondered if you bothered him more than anything else…and the more you thought about it the more you realized you probably did.

That night came and went; quiet and lonely aside from those strange dreams. Your eyes prickled when you awoke- already feeling empty.

You felt so silly. So selfish. Ridiculous really.

You felt even more ridiculous when you called in sick to work even though you couldn’t afford it. You found yourself wandering the streets without the slightest idea where that man came from or what his routine was, so you picked some directions to try and set off. There was no plan, you just needed to know that the one person you actually cared about wasn’t laying dead in an alley, at the very least.

It took three hours.

Three.

Asking various vendors and urchins of the streets before you were pointed in the direction that ultimately led you to that tuft of dirty red hair. He was passing by a news stand, that simple pace carrying him as always.

“Mister!” You called before you could tell yourself this was stalking…and the fact that you had no plan whatsoever.

The only indication that he heard you was when the man’s steps faltered for a moment. A slight pause in his foot and a tightening of his shoulders.

You ran to him, and moved into his field of vision. He stared at you almost like a stranger, and that stung you more than it should have. But you did your best to remain calm and kind.

“I haven’t- you-“ you tried, but failed to catch your breath, “I thought something had happened to you…but I’m so glad to see you safe. Can I- can I buy you lunch?” You asked him.

The man stared at you hard, that line between his brows even more pronounced than usual. He was thinking.

Rorschach loathed how bare he was without his face. If he wasn’t in disguise he wouldn’t hesitate to tell you to take your pity elsewhere, anything to get you to unstick yourself from him.

When he didn’t budge, you shifted on your feet, looking around to break his intense eye contact, “I- you dont have to repay me or anything…just a bite to eat. I care about you…- more than I should probably.”

“You shouldn’t.”

You almost jumped at the voice that left him.

That was the first time he had said a word to you, and you admittedly never would have thought that that would be his voice- it was so deep and hoarse that you shivered.

Then you realised what he had said.

“I sh-…why?” You asked, scrunching your brows together.

He hated his weakness in finally speaking. You would never let go now.

“People like you don’t care about people like me, and vice versa.” His words came in a rumble, and they tore you down so easily. A stomp to your heart.

You tried to pretend like tears weren’t welling in your eyes; like you were stronger than the curt, sharp words of a man you barely knew. “And what kind of people are my people?” You pushed, though it sounded more desperate than you wanted.

His face was pure stone. “Good people.”

You swallowed. “And you’re bad?” The question was timid; any wind that had been in your sails was long gone as soon as he had opened his mouth.

“Yes.” He rasped. Rorschach didn’t have the patience to baby you, and frankly his temper was rising the more you made him speak.

“Call me naive…but you don’t seem bad to me…you look…worn down.” You shrugged. “You seem like you need a little good in your life…and I really want to help you with that-“

“No you don’t.”

He said it so quickly it was as if he had practiced it or said it before. You wondered how many times he had gotten hurt.

As you searched for any retort, he continued, and began to stalk towards you causing you to back away. “You don’t want to help with anything. What you want is to feel a little less self absorbed than you already do but in doing so you only fall further into your pathetic, egocentric existence. You think you’re being compassionate? Look again. You’re nothing but a privileged little girl looking for a new toy until she gets bored and wants another one. Look in the mirror for once and see what you really are, you wretch.”

His words rang in your ears, and you felt lightheaded. He stared you down a moment longer, then he was turning around and disappeared into the crowd before you could find a rebuttal or feel your hands. You were numb.

Your heart ached as much as your feet did, if not more.

No…certainly more. You felt nauseated.

It was as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped on you from the top of one of the skyscrapers above you. You felt cold and breathless.

You didn’t remember walking home, but you must have seeing as you were sitting on your couch, coat off and tears dry by 6 pm.

You never thought he cared that much; thought he just saw you as a free meal and you were alright with that…but hearing what he had thought of you all along made you want to double over at your stupidity.

Had he been obvious in his distain and you just hadn’t noticed? You supposed it had been you who forced him to take your food in the first place…he had tried to get away from you but never could because you were so persistent. You were selfish in your want to help, and it had angered him terribly.

And you had lied to yourself; you had told yourself that if he told you to piss off, you would just have to accept that…but here you were with him telling you just that and you couldn’t handle it.

You should have known it was only a matter of time before you pushed this stranger too far…

He was like a wild dog; he would respect you…and then he wouldn’t.

And now you felt even worse for comparing him to a dog.

You hung your head in your hands and let your tears fall. In your want to help someone you had only made an enemy, and made yourself feel more alone than ever.

But that one morning still played over and over if your mind- when he hadn’t let that gang of men get any closer to you; he could have so easily just taken the food and walked away to leave you to their mercy…but he had stood his ground.

Your head ached as you tried to rationalise everything and piece it together.

But all you could come up with was that he thought you were a horrible person…and you were starting to believe him. You supposed you were nothing more than a caterer for him and you had pushed his boundaries too much.

It was all your fault.

A week passed. Every night, you still made the extra food for him, only now you left it out on the stoop since you didn’t see him anymore; hoping he might wander by when you weren’t looking. But you felt your heart ache when it was untouched. On more than one occasion the food was taken, but you assumed it wasn’t your…friend.

Of course, you had no idea that the very man you urned for sat beside those containers almost every night for at least an hour without his face. He never touched what you left for him, and he stared at it in distain. You were young, and you were stupid. He gathered he couldn’t even call you a whore yet…hell you almost had a pretentious halo around you from being born still. He wondered how it felt to be so utterly ignorant.

Rorschach hated that he knew more about you than you thought. That he had taken up the habit of perching on your fire escape outside your window as he wrote in his journal, and you cooked or read.

What he didn’t know was why you did this. Rorschach was a master of puzzles and he loathed that he couldn’t figure your motive out, not fully at least.

You said you cared.

Said you wanted to help…

Stupid.

There was no way in hell that anything you said was true. There was some kind of poison lacing your words and he had already let himself be exposed too long. No one liked Walter Kovacs, and no one liked Rorschach; they used him and worked with him…but like?

No.

A young woman liking him?

Unheard of.

Preposterous.

But that first day you had come to him on that filthy street had felt like an itch had been scratched. For months he had felt eyes on him on that particular stretch of street, but when he had finally spotted you upon your little perch, he felt what it was like to have a question answered for once. It had startled him. You had startled him. He had imagined it was an old, fat creep spying on the passers-by or a whore looking for a client…just like her…

But then there you were- this soft young woman with clean clothes and a gentle stare; you had almost fallen out of your seat, red cheeks visible even from his view point below.

Just another strange woman then.

Then…and only then when you had burst out onto the street, and run after him did he allow himself to look at you. Actually look at you.

You had looked irritatingly familiar.

There was a timidness to your eyes- a sadness that had turned to kindness. A stark contrast to the sadness in his own eyes- a sadness that had turned to venom and ice long ago.

Your voice was soft as you spoke all in a rush and apologising as you held that peace offering to him. A warm meal.

Selfless.

You were young, and selfless.

You didn’t care that he was as filthy as the street you stood on. That he hadn’t even spoken a word.

You had just wanted to help.

Stupid.

Rorschach was pleased that he had chosen to leave you there; he wasn’t one to pick up strays.

But you were stubborn. He loathed how stubborn you were. Treating him like he was a bug under your microscope.

That next time when he finally took your selfish, presumptuous offering, he considered not eating the food lest it be poisoned, but then again that wouldn’t be the worst thing he had endured in his lifetime.

He had watched you retreat back into your little home like some little, pathetic mouse.

He wasn’t young, or stupid, or naive, or innocent.

He wasn’t about let his gaze wander to some girl who would be a whore in a year or two.

At least that was what he had told himself up until night fell. Once the city was plunged into darkness and his disguise came off, Rorschach clenched his bloodied knuckles as he scaled a near-by building. Jumping from rooftop to rooftop until he came to a familiar neighbourhood. Rorschach had huffed behind his mask, and crawled down the ladder system to your window; a sick, juvenile curiosity making him feeble. Contempt flooded him.

He sat outside your window…watched you as you put yourself to sleep; tugging frustratedly at your night-dress when it bunched up under your blanket. There was an innocence to you that made his nostrils flare under his mask and his ears ring; as if an old memory was trying to resurface. It was ludicrous, of course.

Your window had opened surprisingly quietly, and he soundlessly eased himself inside. Your home was simple and comfortable despite likely having a landlord who didn’t give two shits about you. Tidy enough for a young woman. Rorschach stalked from shadow to shadow, mapping out the apartment. Then he came to your bedroom, and he paused; watched how gently you breathed as sleep took you. As if you didn’t have a care in the world, or perhaps you simply weren’t aware of the scum that lay below you.

He told himself he was just collecting information on this strange person who had extended him a disingenuous olive branch. Nothing more.

It wasn’t that there was an itch in his hands when he saw you, or a twitch in his eye when he heard your voice; that you got under his skin.

You little creature.

A little light that had turned on in his dark world.

He hated the light.

He stared at the dress that you had worn that day- draped over the back of a chair in the corner of your room. It had sat at your knee, a modest length especially given your young age. It wasn’t often that a young woman attempted to protect herself with a show of dignity. He gathered you must be hiding something…

You were odd. A sliver of grey in his black and white world.

He hated grey. It made no sense.

Then there was the routine that you forced him to partake in.

He found his steps slowing when he passed your building- not out of expectation but out of a foolishness that made him engage in the childish game you laid out.

Your presence ate away at him like a corrosive acid.

Each day he expected you to not be there. To disappoint him like everyone else.

But you never disappointed him, and he loathed it.

There was twice where he had made it past your building with no sign of you, and he had decided that the game was done and he could carry on with his existence, but then that frantic little voice of yours would make him stop. Calling after him like he was so important. Like you needed to give him your kindness as much as you assumed he needed to receive it.

Then he found himself slipping.

So stupid.

Putting off jobs or rerouting himself to pass your window. Just a glimpse- a reassurance that you were alright like double checking that you have your wallet when you leave the house.

Then it wasn’t enough. He began to sleep there on your stoop, picket sign beside him like an old friend. He didn’t care if he saw you in the mornings, but he saw the type of people who frequented the area and he wasn’t about to let a single one get past your door. He didn’t need the blood of a foolish woman on his hands as well.

The image of your bloodied, violated limp body made his stomach churn; just like it had when he found Blair Roche’s remains. And that was what scared him- or the closest thing he could feel to fear.

He held this pristine little being in his pale hand, and he knew that the longer he held it, the more likely it became that he would ruin it. Crush you in his palm just like that man had done to that little girl all those years ago…taking Walter Kovacs with him.

And he would not drag you down with him. He would not stoop to that monster’s level.

So he stopped showing you his disguise. He couldn’t have you know he was there, just like the rest of New York. He needed you to forget about him; treat him like a ghost you saw out of the corner of your eye.

When he was across the city that morning and still heard your voice behind him, he had felt his muscles tighten in distain.

Because then it wasn’t a game anymore. He was done.

But you were so insistent that you cared.

You truly cared.

You had spent god knows how long looking for him.

As soon as he had heard you, he had to steel his composure lest you attempt to lure him back into your scheme.

He hated that you had gotten him to speak, but he had watched you crumble under his words; it was alright that you were upset. He could handle that far easier than your kindness- perhaps you might even grow from a little cruelty.

Weeks passed, and he found himself returning to his usual schedule; almost appreciating the simplicity of the dullness and angst.

It was a Tuesday night when Rorschach sat on an old roof top, jotting down his visit to Daniel Dreiberg’s home- noting that he had gotten even lazier with his physique and needed to stop lying to himself about the state of the world. The odd scream and rushed fuck in an alley-way rang out below him here and there; the usual.

Dull, really. He sighed, and tucked the book inside his coat. He leaped down to the neighbouring roof, and trudged along it.

Then from down below, he swore he heard a familiar voice.

Rorschach almost rolled his eyes as he came to the edge of the roof and looked down. It was dark, but he knew your voice from a mile away- you had forced that skill upon him.

You were backing away from five men, all considerably more imposing than yourself and your warm drink. Hot chocolate to be exact. You always had at least one once a week…taking a stroll to a small coffee house-

Rorschach ground his fist into the brick to halt his unnecessary thoughts as he crouched.

He listened to the men taunt you, and saw them back you into an alley wall.

He watched, bored, waiting to see what might happen. Then the more he listened, the more he came to realize that the conversation being had sounded familiar.

“What you thought I’d be locked up forever, pumpkin? Nah they just needed some good behaviour ‘n that was enough for them to slap my ass outta there.” One of them laughed, and he neared your cowering form.

Rorschach noted just how badly you shook.

“What? You’re not happy to see me? Cmon now, don’t you have a kiss for daddy, hm?” The man sneered, successfully trapping you against the disgusting alley wall.

Rorschach began creeping down closer to hear, his eye twitching under his face when he watched the other men keep a look out and stare at you like meat on a plate.

“There you were thinking you were so smart with that speech of yours… “My boyfriend raped me and made me watch him launder all the money.”.”, he put on a horrible high pitched voice to mock you, “God you sounded pathetic. 15 fucking years…got out in 7…missed you, you know?”

Rorschach’s brain itched as he tried to recall this particular monster…it was all so-

Then it clicked.

That nagging familiarity of your face wasn’t a coincidence. He had seen you before, of course he had. He felt so stupid.

He had been outside the courthouse after you had given your heartbreaking testimony and that vile man was sentenced to 15 years for assault, murder, rape, and money laundering with attachments to drug trafficking to the homeless. Some monster with a god complex. He had seen you come down the stairs, one of your eyes still black, and head down as the onslaught of reporters and media flocked to you. You had been in the damn paper, why the hell didn’t he remember that. You were barely legal too…he remembered how his stomach had churned-

Your scream snapped him out of his memory, and he was leaping down into that alley before you could finish your cry for help. You sounded so terrified.

As Rorschach landed, a knife was held up to your lips, ready to carve your face. He felt rage fill his veins; was there no end to the putrid barbarians that staked their claim on what they saw fit?

He cleared his throat. Each head turned to him, including yours, as he stood.

As one of the most recognizable figures of New York’s underbelly, Rorschach was used to the look of fright directed at him. What he was not used to was the look of solace that washed over your tight features once your eyes locked onto his inkblot face.

Rorschach found something rewarding in your eyes.

Fuel.

The man holding your throat nodded for the man closest to Rorschach to attack first, which he did. His neck snapping echoed louder than your sobs.

The cold knife poked carelessly into your soft cheek, and you did your best to squirm away.

The next man to lunge at the vigilante smashed his bottle of beer against the brick wall, smirking as if his glass weapon would do any good. Rorschach let him get close. Then faster than a bullet he snatched the man’s weapon-laden hand and squeeze tight; the bottle breaking easily in his fist and puncturing the man’s hand like a balloon on a tack.

Two other men attempted to assault Rorschach, and each time he found such generous abundance of horror and dread in their eyes right before he gifted them each with an irreversible injury.

One after another, the men fell, until it was just Rorschach, the man holding you, and you.

He knew the dog had a name- knew he had heard it specifically- but he couldn’t bring himself to care. No doubt he would hear it over a news channel tomorrow.

The lout man held you tight, and knocked your head against the wall to stun you before turning to Rorschach. You slumped to the ground and watched as the masked vigilante took measured steps to him as if to speed up the process.

You had heard of the Watchmen before, and the countless criminals they had put away and subsequent lives they had saved…but Rorschach wasn’t what you had imagined. He didn’t tell you to save yourself or ask if you were alright. He was silent.

And somehow you found comfort in that-as if you were in the fight with him instead of a damsel in distress. You couldn’t look away, even going so far as looking for something to immobilize the brute of a man who had stolen so much from you all those years ago when you didn’t know any better.

Then once you looked up again, he was down in a heap.

You didn’t even see the altercation, but regardless there was an evident dent in the side of his bleeding head.

The filthy alley floor dug into your knees as you sat and stared. Your mind was playing catch-up with your eyes, and you felt as if the world had been eradicated from your shoulders.

You felt tears well in your eyes and a line of gratitude on your tongue.

Then the masked man turned to you and your entire world shifted when he spoke.

“Go home.” Was all he said.

But it wasn’t how he said it or what he said.

It was his voice.

You knew that voice.

You missed that voice.

You had wanted so badly to understand that voice…

Even the compact build and attitude were right.

Your lungs burned from you forgetting to breathe for a moment.

You stared up at his looming figure, eyes wide and tears long forgotten.

“It’s you…” you whispered. “You’re Rorschach.”

He let out a noise that sounded akin to a growl and a sigh. The sound send a shiver through your cold body. Then without another word, he pulled out a grappling hook like you had seen on the news, launched it, and disappeared into the smog and thick dark.

Rorschach berated himself for hours following the incident. So badly that he beat an old pimp into a coma and ripped his face off to breathe as he sat on a fire escape.

This was a nightmare.

You knew him. Knew his face and his voice.

He had slipped.

Stupid stupid stupid stupid.

There was only one thing he could think of that might rectify it, and it didn’t include you living.

He sighed.

Rorschach stood outside your door, returned to his disguise, and found that he could hear your footsteps through the thin wood. You were cleaning… doing something to distract yourself. Your hands were shaking judging by how you kept dropping things.

He knocked three times, and heard you pause at the sound. Paranoid. Frightened. You very quietly approached the door, and took a look through your peephole before falling completely silent.

You weighed your options; you could not open the door, and risk that pissing him off and breaking the door down…or you could open it and simply speed up the process of whatever it was he wanted. It took ten seconds before you pulled the door open for him.

There was no hiding how startled you were by him being there…now that you knew exactly who he was.

You were looking for something he say, he could practically hear your mind working away…up until your eyes fell on his bashed cheek and the blood drying there. You hadn’t realised he had gotten hit during the fight.

“Y-you’re hurt,” you murmured, and he nodded, not letting his eyes leave you. You sighed and stood aside, “Come in.”

He stared at you for a moment, then slowly walked past you into your home as if it was the first time he had been there. Like he didn’t know the layout and where you slept and how you folded your clothes or the hangers you used.

“Sit down.” You gestured to the couch, and offered a very small smile as if to reassure him that he was welcome there. That you weren’t holly terrified of him.

Rorschach sat, and watched you as you approached him with a cloth and small bowl of water. You sat close to him, and brought the cloth up to his cheek after wringing it out, but he caught your wrist before you could get any nearer.

He looked at you. Truly looked at you. Looked through you.

“You shouldn’t waste your tears on something so undeserving as a man.” He rumbled.

Your eyes were locked on his, and you felt as if all air was sucked out of you. You still weren’t used to that voice of his; pure gravel.

His words hung heavy in your ears, and you realized that you must have looked like an absolute mess- tears still drying on your cheeks from sobbing for your life in the alley.

He watched you take the tactless comment and he slowly released your wrist, and you gently began to clean his injury and grime on his face. There was a firm line between your brows as your worked- wiping the sharp planes of his face while trying to ignore his eyes on you, burning a hole through your skull.

His face came clean, and your bowl of water was murky and pink. This was possibly the most surreal nights you had had in a very long time. You went to get up but again, his hand caught your forearm and kept you seated. You looked from his hand to his face, staying quiet.

“Why are you helping me?” He snipped, grip tight.

You blinked, and searched his handsome face for any idea why he might doubt you aside from the fear he caused you.

You shook your head, “Why wouldnt-“

“Why?” Rorschach snarled, pulling you so close that you breathed the same air- those cold blue eyes of his harsh and intimidating.

You gasped, but refused to look away. His grip hurt, but he had saved your life and you were afraid that if you said or did the wrong thing he would disappear again. It was pathetic, you knew that, but you felt a strange bond to him.

And though he didn’t want to admit it, he felt an odd attachment to you as well.

For 45 years he had only ever seen the greed and filth that came from humanity; shaped from it, starting from the very womb he was born from. Lies and hatred, murder and rape and theft and horror beyond your imagination. For him to find your grey in amongst the rubble of humanity, it felt like good gold. He was waiting to rub away a coating of false innocence and find another piece of coal.

But there you were…coming whiter and whiter until-

Rorschach didn’t like being wrong. Being surprised. It was tedious.

But it would be a lie if he said you were anything but one of the innocents.

A good person.

Each of the deeds you had done for him had in fact come from a place of benevolence, and not deceit.

Rorschach let his grip on you lighten.

Despite your brain cautioning you of the vigilante in front of you, you simply stared back at him and ignored how strong his hold on you was.you did note that he released you slightly, the same moment his eye twitched.

“I think there’s something to that old saying of a wounded soul recognizing another wounded soul…you looked like you had some decency left in you, sir…please don’t tell me I was wrong.” Your voice was soft. Gentle. But no less direct than his. You were kind, not weak, and you were hoping against hope that he wasn’t like America’s favourite hero, the Comedian when it came to women; a line of them out his door begging for his sexual attention and him using them then tossing them aside as he pleased.

“Or maybe I’m just stupid.” You shrugged and looked away, afraid he might confirm your statement. You wouldn’t put it past him to be blunt.

Rorschach almost reacted to your use of that word. For so long he had labeled you as such, and while you might very well still be…he was sceptical to assume anything of you. He continued to stare, his sharp eyes cutting into you like you were a cloud of vapour. He relaxed his grip on you again, and stared at where he had held your arm- red finger marks forming on your clean skin. You must have washed yourself as soon as you had gotten home…scrubbed yourself clean from those vermin.

Good.

“I have…I have some dinner I was going to-um…well bring down for you…if you want it.” You began to shift uncomfortably under his gaze when he looked back at you. You swore he stared more than he spoke.

He nodded after a moment, and you smiled a little.

An incandescent sight.

“Okay.” You whispered, finally getting up. It was surreal.

Rorschach watched you go, noting that a pleasant scent followed after you.

Why did he notice that?

You walked to your little kitchen, and placed the dirty cloth and water in the sink before going to grab the pot of warm soup. You filled a bowl for him, and turned around to grab a spoon when you froze and jumped back, spilling some soup.

You hadn’t even heard him walk up behind you, didn’t even feel him even though he was a mere breath away.

“What are you…?” You murmured.

He watched you startle, and looked for any last ill intent or motive; any snark comment or any price you might want to put on your kindness…but nothing came.

It never did.

His breath was on your face, and you could only stare at him. There was a tragedy to him, hidden under the dirt, and he was impossible to read. He might have been plotting your gruesome death and you would have no idea.

Rorschach focused on you.

Fixated.

So innocent…white and pristine amongst the blood, filth and rot of his world. He hated it. Hated how you were allowed to be like that; a poster child for something that didn’t exist freely.

He sighed, pursing his mouth.

You had chosen this; you had decided to care for him. You had lead him down this path.

You had given yourself to him.

You looked away for a moment, and gingerly placed the bowl down before you spilled it. Then before you could think of anything to say with this dangerous man who was a hair away from you, you felt the skin of his lips catch yours when you turned back.

You wouldn’t call it a kiss- it was more of a hook or bait. A test. But when he did it again…that was a kiss; tentative and slight as it was. He heard your breath catch , and could feel the heat from your cheeks as they warmed and flushed.

You blushed.

Whores didn’t blush.

He kissed you again, with a little more force, and your hands came up slowly to his chest, resting there like you hadn’t decided if you wanted to draw him closer or push him away.

He might have been one of the most infamous men in New York…if not America, but he was flesh and blood underneath that mask. He was warm, and sturdy.

Rorschach was far from weak, but when he felt your soft lips brush back against his, he felt something deep inside him snap.

A low growl rumbled in his chest and he unclenched his fists; bringing his calloused hands up to grab the back of your head and your jaw to draw you closer as he backed you hard against the counter.

It was messy and Rorschach held you possesively as you gave into him. Your teeth clanked together, and your rhythm was fueled with need as he nipped and bullied his tongue into your eager mouth. He gripped your hair so tight it hurt your roots but you didn’t dare tell him to stop.

He only removed his hands from you to shuck off his jacket and gloves, mouth still sealed over yours, and then they were back on you. Grabbing at your flesh, drawing you closer; chest flush against yours.

You shakily forced your hands between and the two of you and began unbuttoning his shirt- the older man hummed in regards to your tremor.

You nervously loosened his tie and let your hands wander over the skin of his collar and chest. You hadn’t expected him to be so strong, but knowing who he was, it only made sense. Before you could get any further he weaved his fingers into your hair and pulled your head away from him.

Rorschach held you there for a moment, soaking in how you stilled so obediently; staring at you as his free hand began to gather the hem of your little night dress. He huffed, and gave your roots a quick squeeze, and the message was clear: “Stay.”

Then once he was satisfied with your cooperation, he brought his other hand down to the other side of your nightie and brought the garment up and over your head with ease. He let it fall to the ground, and you followed its descent; unable to look at the older man now that you were left in your panties while he was still almost fully clothed.

He placed two fingers under your chin to force you to look at him; you felt your blush deepen when you saw how blown his pupils were. He looked determined, and feral- deep breaths making his chest heave.

Before you could say a word, Rorschach scooped you into his arms and didn’t even pretend to not know where your bedroom was. A gasp escaped you, and your wrapped your arms around his shoulders. He carried you with little effort, and had you plopped down on your mattress in seconds. The older man crawled over you before you could even sit up; lips on yours, kissing you so hard your mouth grew tender. He only paused to pull back and kick off his trousers.

Then he was everywhere.

Rough hands grabbing at your soft skin; low rumbles and hums in his chest that vibrated against you and made you need him even more. He kissed and bit at you- marking you as his. You held onto his strong shoulders, whimpering and moaning quietly as he made you forget your own name and only know his.

Rorschach bit into your neck, and rocked firmly against you. You could feel him scorching and pulsing against your core, rubbing hard against you to create friction that had you forgetting to breathe.

“P-please” you whispered, raising your hips up to meet his.

The man stopped, and you immediately regretted saying anything. He pulled away to stare down at you. You thought you had done something wrong until he spoke.

“Say that again.” He murmured, his nose brushing yours.

Your quick beating heart was so clear for him to see, along with your nearly black eyes; the throbbing vein in your neck and pulse in your chest.

“Please…” you said again, lips red and swollen.

He sucked in a breath. Having your warm, soft skin against his bare chest was the first human contact he had felt in decades. It made him feel…human. He was fighting to maintain his practiced composure, but he could feel it slipping through his fingers with that one word.

“Again.” He rasped against your lips, throat tight; invading every inch of your space. He knew he shouldn’t ask it of you, but be needed this. He needed you to say it again.

You swallowed.

“…please.” Came your timid, needy voice. Your hands started to fidget as he refused to look away, barely blinking as he took you in. Drank your generous vulnerability.

Rorschach hummed low in his chest.

“You’re mine.” He growled simply, the skin of his lips catching yours as he spoke.

Your mind was gone already, sitting in that bowl of cold soup on the counter.

You could only nod.

He sighed through his nose, and then it was as if the last part of his restraint broke. Rorschach locked his lips onto yours, and you parted yours to gasp as his hand came to your hip- squeezing and stroking your skin. His tongue moved against yours and you let out a surprised moan that he swallowed greedily. Then just as quickly, he ripped himself away from you, and you watched his veiny hands as they pulled himself from his boxers; painfully hard and leaking precum. You’d be lying in you said you hadn’t thought highly inappropriate things about the man- something about his simplicity and your need to please him. He lowered himself over you, resting his weight onto you as he bit at your lips.

Low hums would rumble through him and you couldn’t help but think he was purring. He perched onto his forearms, and shifted closer; you gasped when you felt the tip of his cock against your entrance, and choked out a cry when it entered you without warning.

There was no sweetness. It was blunt, and clear as day.

Rorschach rested his head into your neck as he hunkered over you and pushed forward, then drew back; fucking himself into you. You were no virgin, but you might as well have been. It only took two brutal thrusts before his hips were flush with yours and you were clinging to him pathetically.

You whimpered in his ear at the stretch of him so deep inside you. You couldn’t help but squirm slightly in an attempt to get used to him. Rorschach brought a hand to rest at the nape of your neck to keep you still as he drew out of you again then snapped back into you, making your body bounce under him. It was as if he was testing you…or perhaps testing himself.

Then you felt a puff of his hot breath as he quickened his pace, taking full advantage of how soaked you were for him. You could feel him throb inside you, and you suddenly remembered that he was only a man…a much older man who was rutting inside you like he owned you. The thought alone had you moan into his shoulder as his fat tip dragged against your insides and bruised your cervix. You rolled your hips with him, gasping at how hard he gripped your hip and neck.

He was possessive and harsh in his need for you. Like a man who had been starved and you were his first meal.

And he would devour you.

You felt his pace pick up and his thrusts turned harder and sloppier. He locked his arms around your shoulders to keep you still as he bruised your pelvis. Your back arched and hips met his in a need to feel every inch of him. You hooked your legs behind him to bring him closer. You could feel him huff into your neck, a rumble in his chest.

“I-inside me- please…” you managed to croak out, though you doubted he would listen to any request that he didn’t like at that point. He was going to make you his in every sense, and that meant filling you with his cum.

Rorschach growled deep into your shoulder and bit into your flesh. You felt him pulse inside you, then a warmth spread inside your navel as he emptied his cum into you. It had a comfort to it that made you cling to him, nuzzling your face into his strong shoulder. Ragged breaths were in your ear as he hammered into you a few more times like he was proving a point. Making sure you knew that you were his now…his secret.

You panted with him, and clenched reflexively as he began to pull out. You already missed the warmth he brought you. His shoulders were visibly more relaxed as he moved to lay beside you, and you slowly grasped his jaw and brushed your lips against his, which he returned ever harder. You pulled away, and you liked that he hummed when you did.

The man beside you leaned up onto his arm to stare down at you thoughtfully. As if he was trying to read something on you. Your skin flushed with warmth under his scrutiny, and you couldn’t find it in yourself to tell him that you didn’t cum.

When you moved your hand down between your legs where his cum now leaked from you, you twitched. Every inch of your skin was hypersensitive and when you touched your clit you almost flinched at the contact. All of which instantly drew the attention of the man beside you. He stared at you intently- a deep line between his red brows.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

His scrutiny was jarring, though you noticed it wasn’t judgemental…it was studious. Curious. You looked away from him, and felt very naked under his gaze, afraid he might ridicule you for something like that. It wouldn’t be the first time you had gone to take care of yourself and a man had almost laughed in your face.

“I’m…I didn’t um…” you tried, but he watched you so closely, and felt as if he was studying you.

He was.

Then he understood. His eyes widened ever so slightly.

“Oh…” he rasped, looking down where your hand had been. You bit your thumb nail as you waited to see what he would do or say. You liked this man more than you would care to admit, but you knew men could be selfish…and uncaring…and mean. Hell, you had never had anyone make you cum besides yourself, and your expectations were not-

Your thoughts were halted when you felt the warmth of his calloused hand on yours. You watched as he very simply took your hand from your mouth, and returned it to between your thighs, and looked back at you expectantly. At first it felt like a slap in the face, as if he was telling you to take care of yourself…but with how intensely he was gazing at you, you realised he was examining your every move. You moved your fingers and he regarded them carefully. Like it mattered greatly to him.

The older man committed everything to memory; when you petted, when you were gentle, when you moaned, when you pressed harder, when you stroked, when you arched your back, when your hand started to shake, when your brows pitched up, when you slipped your fingers inside yourself.

You found yourself unable to look away from him even as your eyes drooped and your mouth dropped open in a permanent sigh. Your breaths were coming in little gasps, and you didn’t even notice he was just as effected as you- his chest heaving as he took deep, controlled breaths.

You slowly pumped your fingers inside yourself, stroking your g-spot; then gasped out a soft whine at the contact on your sensitive flesh, at which point Rorschach deemed to be enough watching for his liking. He snatched your little hand and replaced it with his own far larger and rougher hand.

You gasped when he touched you so accurately…but this time you gasped for him.

He leaned over you, his lips just a breath away as if to breathe in your whines and pleas. Watching what he did to you.

His thumb drew small, feathery circles around your clit; alternating between direct but tentative touch, and agonizingly slow strokes that didn’t quite touch it. You began to pant, and your hands found his strong shoulders- hanging on like a lifeline. The older man hummed, and looked away from you for a moment to watch what he was doing, how slick his hand had become as a result. Once he had your hips rolling up into his palm, he eased a finger inside you, although his was noticeably longer and thicker than yours.

You gasped at the sensation.

“I-if you- ah! Can you move l-like this?” You showed him how to curl his finger inside you and he instantly followed your instruction, and even added a second finger; you cried pathetically as you surrendered to his mercy.

He stroked your inner walls for a few moments until he found what he was looking for. Once he made contact with that hypersensitive patch inside you, you let out a gasped moan that you tried to cover with your hand, but Rorschach was having none of that. His free hand that had cradled your head smacked your hand away and didn’t even pause his ministrations. This was just as much for him as it was for you. He wanted to know everything he did to you.

You whined softly against his mouth.

The movement of your hips began to be more deliberate as your body chased its craving. As if catching onto what you needed, he focused on that spot inside of you, and you let a series of moans slip from your mouth. Your pelvis bucked up into his touch, and you could have sworn that amongst the focused breathing and studious stare, you saw that man smirk.

Smirk.

He huffed out a ragged sound that must have been a laugh.

He continued to watch you, and you found yourself lost in the feeling of him and the sight of his eyes staring down at you like you were the most important thing at that moment.

Like there was nothing he would rather be staring at.

It took only a few more moments of his careful ministrations before you were falling apart in his arms. Your back arched up off the bed as you gripped his fingers like a vice inside you, and he continued his strokes, though he slowed them considerably.

The steady drag of his fingers inside you set your veins on fire. There was a mess of your and his cum between your thighs,and he used the saturated slickness to lazily finger you; carrying you through your high.

As you eyes refocused and unglazed, you stared back at him, and caught his lips with yours. He eagerly returned your needy kiss, and very gently removed his hand from your cunt.

You lacked proper judgement and acted purely on what you wanted; with his hand resting on your penvis, soaked and sticky, you took his wrist in your hand. You didn’t want to know how much blood had been shed because of those hands, not in that moment to be specific, but what you did know was that he had you wrapped around those fingers tight. You lifted them to your lips licked the slickness off of them, cleaning him. You flicked your eyes up to his, and we’re startled be how close he had moved. He hummed low in his chest when your tongue slowly lapped at them to clean him.

He drew his hand away from you, kissed you; holding you jaw surprisingly gently as if you didn’t have the shape of his hands bruising your hips or an ache deep inside you.

Your head felt light and disconnected.

Rorschach pulled away after a moment, and propped his head onto his hand to watch you. He gingerly traced your face shape with his finger, as if mapping and memorizing you. Touching your eyebrows, the ridge of your nose, your cheekbones.

He was lost in his own little world.

“I like the way you sound when you cum.” He said so a-matter-of-fact.

Your cheeks went rosy and warm. You didn’t know if you should thank him, so you grinned sweetly.

There was something in him that made it compelling to watch him. Something drawing you in as he stared back with such fixation. You didn’t know how to look away.

Not until your eyelids drooped and exhaustion took you. You didn’t know when you fell asleep, but you did know that when you awoke, your blanket was laid over you, your hair was out of your face, and you had a pair of crystal blue eyes staring back at you. Rorschach looked to have not moved an inch since you had fallen asleep. His head still propped in his hand, watching.

“Did you sleep?” You asked, rolling closer to him; your head and body consumed by your pillows and blankets.

He shook his head.

“You do you ever sleep?” You flicked your eyes across his face.

And he shook his head again.

You placed your hand on his cheek. His face didn’t soften- it never did, you noted. But regardless, his attention was on you entirely; you stared at him like he did you, then smiled gently at him.

“Thank you for trusting me.” You whispered, and he clearly hadn’t expected such a thing.

Again, he didn’t move from his place, but you noted the twitch in his brow, and small smirk that sat in the corner of his mouth. Perhaps he thought you foolish, but you didn’t care.

You pressed a kiss to his lips, and pulled away quickly even when he chased you. A displeased huff escaped him, but you eased it away when you gently hitched your leg over him. He grabbed your waist as if anticipating something volatile, but when you leaned over him, your chest against his, he seemed to pause mentally. You nestled your hips against his, your thighs on either side. With nothing between you, the feeling of his hardening cock against your lips was evident. The older man’s warmth radiated into you. You felt his fingers start to dig into your hips where he gripped you, squeezing the flesh as if he was about to lift you off. But then, you rolled your hips against him, sliding along his shaft easily given how slick you were already. He stopped all trains of thought he had for a moment when the sensation registered in his nerve-endings.

His gaze continued to make you self-conscious, but you wouldn’t shy away from him now.

You repeated the motion again, and felt him twitch and harden under you; you gasped when his hands held you firmer. You enjoyed the feeling of his cock under you, and your eyes began to glaze over when you felt the swollen tip catch your entrance, slipping inside you without warning. The soreness you felt from the night before didn’t stop you though. You watched him carefully, and while his stare was intense and focused, there was no unease or resistance.

Your cheeks flushed and you couldn’t help but stutter, “I-is this okay?” To the nearly silent man.

Again, he didn’t say a word. Instead, he gripped your hips tighter and bucked more of him into you.

You took that as a yes.

Encouraged by his action, you rolled your hips on him a few more times to get more of him inside you; a whimper and a gasp escaped you as he filled you so completely- the stretch painful but addictive. Your slower pace appeared to bother him and he ground you down onto him to get his cock fully inside you. The force made you breathe out another gasp; your hands found their place on his muscled chest to steady yourself.

With you both satisfied with being locked together, you slowly bucked your hips, drawing him in and out of you. You felt his grip grow more possessive, almost pawing at you as he held you.

You started slow, and deliberate; angling your hips to have his cock drag against your g-spot. At the first contact, your tempo stuttered, and your choked on a moan. He seemed to find your pleasure amusing as he hummed and began to meet your thrusts. He seemed to understand what to feel for after a moment when he stroked that sensitive patch, and you noted that he was very particular about hitting it.

Then you started to notice just how much pleasure he was receiving when his lips parted and the tendons in his neck began tighten.

Each time you came down on his shaft, you felt him reciprocate the movement- grinding up into you. It was as if he knew exactly what to feel for that made your toes curl.

You could barely hold a thought in your head as you felt fire brew in your veins and a tightness in your pelvic muscles.

You tilted your head back, and your arms that were braced on his chest buckled; bringing you closer to him. Your head fell back down and your eyes locked onto his- pupils blown. There was a new intensity to his face, a determination.

Then, as if he had had enough of you in charge, the man suddenly gripped you waist and flipped you onto your back. He crawled over you, and slipped his cock back inside you, earning him a whine and gasp from your sweet throat. He found a rhythm identical to the one you had set atop him, and your lips parted when you felt him angle his hips to target that spot inside you; the intense drag of his cock hitting it each time. He rendered you speechless in seconds.

After mewling and huffing out breaths, you finally managed to find a couple words.

“H-harder…” you forced out, “Ple-ase.” You pleaded.

It seemed he was intent to oblige. The gradual roll of his pelvis escalated into a harsher snap of his hips that had him watching you with rapt interest when you cried out.

Out of habit from your past, your hand flew to your mouth just like it had the night before, but just like then, he grabbed your wrist and pinned it beside your head without a moments thought. You felt scrutinized and your cheeks began to heat up so much you felt the warmth spread down your neck.

He wanted to know exactly what he did to you.

And that thought alone forced your body to clench and melt for him simultaneously.

With his careful ministrations, your orgasm grew quickly- an overwhelming amount of pleasure spawning inside you that you hadn’t felt before. Just as you had asked, he kept his pace steady and firm. His desire to know how to play you as he liked made your brain go dizzy with need, and you were intent to follow his wishes. While it made you flush even more to tell him what you needed, you swallowed your pride and forced another pathetic whimper from you. “Slower…please.” You breathed.

At your request, he leaned down over you more, his chest almost flush with yours. He kept your one hand pinned while he used his other hand to pull your thigh up and pushed your knee to your chest.

The change had your eyes rolling back, and you heard him hum; vibrations from his chest buzzing into yours making your fingertips tingle.

It took all of ten seconds before your thighs shook and you desperately rolled your hips up to meet his. He watched as your brows pitched up and your swollen lips parted. Your face flushed in ecstasy.

Rorschach could feel you tense around his cock, and smirked to himself when he felt a rush the of your cum soaking him inside you. You nearly sobbed. Eyes glassy and back arching as you came.

The older man slowed his pace, until eventually stopping all together, but only for a moment. He leaned his nose down into the crook of your neck, and inhaled softly. His grip still possessive; it made you shiver.

Then, just as you settled, he snapped his hips once, forcing his cock back into your tightened heat and he pulled away from your neck to stare you down- nose bumping against yours. You cried out from the impact and looked up at him. He had your attention now. And he began to fuck into you steadily again, but growing in need.

His message was clear.

“I’m not done with you yet.”

And he certainly was not.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

[betyloca]

Watchmen characters with an s/o who wears men's clothing.

Daniel Dreiberg(night owl)

• Okay, this guy has seen you wearing men's clothes on many occasions.

• I was curious to know why you don't wear women's clothes.

• doesn't want to seem rude by asking you, he just wants you to explain it to him

Dan: Hey, can I ask you something?

y/n: sure

Dan: Why do you wear men's clothes?

Y/n: oh I just like it

• It's not his place to judge if that makes you happy, then it's okay.

• gives you clothes that you no longer wear or that are too small for you

• defends you if someone makes fun of you

Lauriel Jupiter( silk spectre)

• She is a liberal woman so she never bothered to ask why she was wearing men's clothes.

• It didn't bother him that you didn't wear women's clothes, because it's uncomfortable when men look at you with lust.

• She was curious about what he asked.

Laurel: Y/N honey, why wear men's clothes?

Y/N: Well, I like and find it uncomfortable to wear a dress.

• She saw how happy it made you and didn't complain.

• likes to accompany you shopping for clothes, helping you decide which one suits you best

Water Kovacs (Rorschach)

• This boy thought you were a man until he heard you talk and saw your long hair.

• I definitely thought you were a lesbian.

• He distrusts people a lot and thinks that you are hiding something from him.

Rorschach: Why do you dress like that? What are you hiding?

y/n: nothing, I'm not hiding anything

Rorschach: You're a woman, why don't you wear women's clothes?

y/n: because I like these clothes and have you seen how men look at women?

• well you had a good point, at least he's relieved that men don't see you as a piece of meat

• He stopped caring about how you dressed, he saw how comfortable you felt.

• If someone makes fun of you, believe me, they are a dead man.

• When you go out at night he takes care of you without you seeing him, he fears that there may be people who will hurt you because of how you dress and it makes him nervous.

[angelofthenight]

Adrian Veidt/Ozymandias (Watchmen): Yandere Alphabet (+ add. h/cs)

(Fem!Reader)

Overall warnings: Yandere, Dark themes, Gaslighting, Violence/Murder, Unhealthy relationship, Jealousy/Possessiveness, Social isolation, Manipulation, Obsessiveness, Stalking/Spying, Controlling behavior, Power imbalance, Swearing, Kidnapping, Dub-con

( This was the fastest I’ve ever written a piece, literally in one night so excuse it if it sounds rushed at times, coz I just wanted to get Watchmen out of my system so I could focus on my other fics. Also this is based on a combination of the movie interpretation and comic counterpart of Adrian )

( A few letters in the Alphabet are out of order to get the foundation set )

~

Love story: How did they meet their darling? How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

You were caught in the grasp of a villain on a rooftop after the superheroes Nite Owl and Rorschach beat his barbaric goons to bloody pulps. The costumed lunatic held a knife to your hoarse throat while you sobbed and hyperventilated, warning the two vigilantes that if they came any closer he would slice your neck wide open. Your mind was too fogged with hysterical terror to understand the conversation but the next thing you felt was the villain chucking you over the ledge of the roof as he made a run for it. You just accepted your brutal death, knowing there was no way to get out of this, until your body collided into a pair of strong arms.

Your pink eyes locked with Ozymandias’ soft ones, him holding a calm smile. Your heavy breathing was unstable and tears still cascaded down your cheeks when you abruptly threw your face into the crook of his neck to sob with your arms grasping helplessly around his shoulders. You trembling terribly and despite being a hero for quite awhile now, Adrian had never been this close to a victim before. It was always fleeting moments with saving victims but as you shook and clung to him, he truly did feel like a superhero in that moment.

Even as the cops came to arrest the criminals and as the press interviewed Nite Owl, you still held onto him with your face buried into his shoulder as if you were holding on for your actual life. When he asked if you were okay, you snapped out of it and allowed him to softly plant you onto your feet. You were still visibly horrified and he asked you if you would like him to walk you home since of the late hour. You gradually accepted the offer after your own hesitation and his reassurance that he wouldn’t mind and that he would actually prefer it to ensure your safety and wellbeing.

So he walked you home, talking with you to help you calm down. He didn’t even realize how much he learned about you. He couldn’t sleep that night. The scene of him saving you and you clinging to him replaying over and over and over again.

A few times he had played around your intimate (at least to him) scenario like imagining you refusing to let go of him, you being flustered when he catches you, and a few times he imagined himself locking your lips within his own or you engaging it as a “thank you, you’re my hero”.

Even as days passed he couldn’t stop thinking about you, so much that it started to affect his performance and attention. If you have a song stuck in your head on loop, listening to the song makes it stop. So he told himself he just needed to see you again to be able to go on with his life in peace and without distraction, because that’s what you were becoming: a distraction.

During the talk to calm you down, you told him where you worked. So, out of costume, he went to the coffee cafe you worked full time at. It was easy to get your attention with his wealthy image and known name and with his charming and colorful persona it was easy to strike up a conversation with you. To him, you were hitting it off amazingly and you would even listen intently as he’d talk about Egyptian culture. But in reality you had tried to end the conversation more than twice. Maybe you were just untrustworthy of the wealthy but there was something about him that just seemed so… fake. You just weren’t that interested in him.

But he just kept coming, almost everyday, and stays sat at the counter in front of your station for practically half of your shift just conversing with you. He thinks he’s swooning you, completely oblivious to the fact that he’s annoying you and on the brink of creeping you out. But that becomes not enough for him, he starts to find himself stalking you outside of work and soon enough plants cameras in your apartment. He feels as if he just needs to get a glimpse of you in order to get through his day. It’s actually ridiculous.

The more he scratches his own itch, the itchier it gets. Now he’s meticulously planning your interactions, like “bumping into you on the street” and “coincidentally” ending up at the same stores as you, as well as manipulating situations. He even one time anonymously paid a guy to verbally harass and berate you at work just so he could step in to protect/defend you and send the “disrespectful” man out of your cafe. That did nothing but stroke his own narcissistic savior-complex.

When the news station on the TV replayed last night's live interview with the superhero group, Adrian asked you if you had a favorite of the Crimebusters. You told him you were biased with your personal favorite, Ozymandias, because of how he was the one to save your life once.

That was all Adrian needed to cross the first line. At first he hired just one criminal to corner you in an alleyway, try to mug and give you a good scare. Then your knight in shining armor comes to your rescue, resulting in you showering him in your gratitude while trembling to the bone and full of tears. He walked you home again, calmly conversing with you just like the first time except he noticed that you seemed more at ease with Ozymandias than Adrian Veidt. But then he started hiring more people to give you scares and serious threats, his superhero persona saving you each time. He just felt so… good when you relied on him and cowered into his arms.

Of course you noticed that ever since Mr. Veidt entered your life, bad things have suddenly started happening to you once a week or two; dangerous trouble following you as if it were your very own shadow. But just your luck, you were saved each and every time by the tall and blond Crimebuster. Of course you knew it was weird, it often made you unable to sleep. You’ve brought it up to Ozy after he saved you from an attempted sexual assault, but he simply saw it as him always being at the right place and the right time. He told you that these specific streets were his patrol area. Sometimes it sounded like he was blaming you for always getting in trouble, it made you feel like you were losing it. Your feelings about Ozy lost its comfort, there was something with him that began to unsettle you.

You came to the conclusion that Adrian Veidt just had bad people after him and because of how often he came to see you those people were going to harm you to get to him. You wanted Adrian out of your life, hell, you weren’t even really that fond of him anyway. Your “friendship” was basically one sided. You believed that if you fucked him, he would finally leave your life and take his enemies with him. You believed a good fuck was just all he wanted from you, what he has been trying to get this whole time. That’s all what he wants, that’s always what men want.

Fortuitously, Adrian came to the same conclusion. He realized how much you were affecting his life and work and himself. He believed he just needed to fuck you to finally satisfy his desire for you, then he’d return to normal.

And so, the two of you had sex. And it was truthfully incredible. He even made you finish. Adrian slept peacefully that night, knowing he could finally move on with his life without you constantly distracting him. But sex just makes it worse. It makes it so much worse. Because that just made him realize that he wants so much more than sex from you, that he is in love with you.

Your eyes nearly popped out of your skull when the next day Adrain came to your work with a bouquet of big red roses. No. No, this couldn’t be happening. He called you endearing names like “my dear” and “darling”. You felt sick. He continuously did this the following days. You politely declined all the flowers and gifts with reasonable enough excuses for him to take them back. You never humored him or encouraged any of his behavior, you relentlessly gave him signs and hints that you didn’t feel the same way at all. But he was either too delusional to pick them up or he just simply ignored them.

He soon told himself that you would be less tense around him if you knew that your lover and your superhero were one and the same. He felt like you deserved to know. So he told you, but you didn’t believe him until you saw the proof. You felt even more sick when you saw it.

You didn’t know what to do. You felt at the end of your rope. You nervously stuttered out reasons why you couldn’t be with him because of his double life: you didn’t want to worry about him every night, you feared villains might use you against him, you think he wouldn’t have time for you outside of saving the city and fighting villains, you wouldn’t want to make him choose between you and the city, etc.

You felt pathetic and ashamed that you didn’t have the courage to tell him plain and simple that you did not want to be with him because you just didn’t see him in that way… at all.

The next day what you saw on the evening news at work made you drop a plate, your jaw dropping and your pulse skyrocketing. Ozymandias revealed his secret identity to the world… and announced his retirement. Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no, no, nononononono-

You were closing the cafe all by yourself at the late hour when Adrian came in with the happiest smile. You kept your distance as horror gripped around you suffocatingly.

“You… you shouldn’t have done that. Not for me.”

“Why not? Now you don’t have to worry any longer. Now we can finally be together.”

You stared at him in disbelief, not believing your eyes. “…Smartest man alive my ass.” You mumbled before you suddenly snapped. “Don’t you get it?! I am not interested! I never have been from the very beginning! That night was just supposed to be a one-night-stand, that was all!”

Adrian’s expression was frozen in confusion and shock. “You don’t mean that.”

“Yes I fucking do! Open your eyes! You’re fucking crazy! You are delusional! Now please, I am begging you, get out of my life and leave me alone! You narcissistic creep!”

He left after a minute of staring at your petrified, furious composure. You finished closing with a haunting, foreboding feeling lingering over your shoulders. That was just your intuition warning you of what was to come.

Because Adrian kidnapped you from your home that very same night.

Kisses: What exactly made them fall for their darling?

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

There was many factors that prompted him to fall for you but the top three reasons were:

Damsel in distress: That feeling he felt within his bones when he caught you that night before you could hit the pavement and you huddled into him with your arms tightly around him while you shook and wept. He never felt like more of a hero than in that moment. He desperately chases that warm, buzzing feeling and you were the only one who made him feel it. Every superhero needed their damsel in distress, and you were just the perfect victim.

Desperation for love and connection: He had always felt alone and isolated from the rest of the world with his unnaturally high intelligence. He couldn’t connect with anyone in grade school, he couldn’t connect with the Crimebusters, he couldn’t connect with his business partners, he couldn’t connect with anyone alive. But he felt an electrifying connection with you. He doesn’t even know exactly what it was from. When he monitored you in your home he compulsively searched for things that related the two of you together. Deep down, this was just because he was desperate for love, for a companion, to be loved by that companion (and u know what they say: it’s lonely at the top). He just needed one thing to convince him that you were soulmates meant to- You had a cat… He loves cats!

Savior complex: The damsel in distress thing he has with you heavily fuels his savior complex. He is convinced you need him. He has made it his sworn duty to save you and therefore protect you. You need him, even more if you don’t know it. And bonus points if you have a toxic boyfriend, family, roommate, landlord, or boss. You need him to save you from it all. Even though your lifestyles were seemingly polar opposites, he came to the conclusion that you both were just made for something bigger. You two were born in the wrong timeline. You both deserved to be royalty. That’s why he found it incredibly insulting watching you wash dishes at your job and endure all the bratty customers that had endless complaints. You didn’t deserve to live like that. He had to save you. He will save you.

He wants you to be his queen, but also his damsel in distress. It’s a complex dynamic that is just nothing but unhealthy.

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Adrian's love and affection would be displayed through grand gestures and displays of devotion. He would go to extreme lengths to ensure your happiness and safety, even if it meant sacrificing others to fulfill what he thinks will accomplish those two things. He would shower you with extravagant gifts and orchestrate elaborate romantic moments/experiences, he’s overall a very flashy lover which could morph into something overwhelming and suffocating. The intensity of his actions would escalate over time, eventually crossing ethical boundaries and causing harm to others just to prove to you his devotion.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

He prefers to keep his human exterminations neat and clean. But on the other hand he would be very willing to get very messy. He would not hesitate to eliminate anyone he perceives as a threat to your relationship, even if it means resorting to extreme and disastrous measures like manipulation, deception, and violence: overall very morally questionable actions. But don’t worry, he always cleans up after himself.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Once abducted, he treats it like it was all for the best, like he saved you. He’d tell you that you will be far better off with him. That God complex and savior complex of his makes him incredibly delusional. He’d be overprotective (even though you’re in his own home) and very controlling. He’d treat you like a queen, a goddess, making sure you have everything you could ever need or want. But even though you lived like an empress in luxury, you still felt like a prisoner more than anything.

Adrian wouldn’t mock you at all, he’s relatively very calm and patient with you, other than patronizing you in a dismissing tone when you attempt to attack him and/or escape.

“Grow up.”

After awhile he will eventually take you out back into public, only linked to his arm though (like you’re a dog on a leash).

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Yes, he would. He is so manipulative and controlling and crosses many lines and many of your boundaries. He might even harm you to ensure your obedience and loyalty. He is forceful and uncompromising and intimidates you to do his self-indulgent requests. Your sex always falls under dub-con as you can never find the courage to deny him and push him away, resulting in just letting him get what he wants.

If it wasn’t already obvious he also forces you into a relationship with him, and makes it public without your consent.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

He bares a significant portion of his heart to you. He’s not ashamed to be vulnerable with you as he is extremely and deeply invested in your relationship. He would be willing to do anything to protect you and do anything for you. Although he does keep many secrets from you.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

He would feel a mix of anger, frustration, and disappointment. He would take it very personally and view it as a betrayal. And like I said before, this is when he’s willing to mock you for your attempts. You seriously think you could outrun him? Over power him? Outsmart him? Can you actually see yourself winning in a fight against the Ozymandias? Are you stupid or are you just delusional? Fighting back would just make it worse for yourself since now he’s even more determined to exert control over you.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

It’s not a game to him but he will admit that he does find some thrilling enjoyment in the chase. It almost brings him back to his superhero glory days catching a villain. But don’t pull this often though.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Your worst experience with him would probably be when you got very close to escaping, the closest you’ve ever been. You had turned the manipulation tables around on him and got yourself an opening to escape. After weeks of appealing to his ego and god/savior complex and demonstrating clinginess to him, you finally got him wrapped around your little finger. You seduced him to bed and right before things got too heated, you coquettishly asked him to go get champagne. He all-too eagerly complied and practically skipped out the bedroom to get the drink.

What the smartest man alive didn’t know was that the champagne bottle was underneath the bed. And without wasting a second you dug into the jacket he dropped on the floor, when he hastily tried to undress, for the keycard that unlocked the front door. With it now tightly in your grasp, you made the quietest run for it, bolting out the bedroom. You quickly unlocked the front apartment door and slipped out into the hallway to sprint down the stairs, too much of a risk waiting for an elevator in pursuit of the lobby on the bottom floor to finally expose Adrian for what he really was.

Adrian was growing tempered as he scrambled for the bottle, unable to find it anywhere, and the image of how willing you were for him on his silk sheets on his mind made him far too impatient when searching. He eventually said “fuck it” and returned to the room to tell you he’d get you champagne afterwards. He froze halfway into the bedroom when he found you absent. He blinked, glanced around the room once, then let out a growling huff of “NO” before thrashing his desk to the ground then rushing out of the room and to the front door. The notice that it was unlocked assured him what you were attempting.

He effortlessly caught up to you on the flight of stairs and tackled your heaving body, sending you both tumbling down the rest of the few remaining steps in an entangled mess. Once you finally hit the ground you pushed through your physical exhaustion and dizziness to open the door right next to you, the light of the lobby temporarily blinding you. You inhaled to scream for help but one hand clasped over your mouth and one hand gripped onto your throat, aggressively tugging you back through the door before anyone had the chance to notice you.

With a hand squeezing your throat and the other still tightly across your mouth and jaw, Adrian slammed your back against the wall. His face was pink with fury, a vein bulging on his forehead, his gritted teeth bared. He growled viciously at you, his words translating to a deafening ring in your ears as your terror and adrenaline rendered you paralyzed. But his violent threats were clear to you, as well as the realization of the extent of Adrian's obsession with you and the lengths he would go to possess and control you.

He harshly knocked you out to drag you back up the stairs.

You still had nightmares about that night.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

In his ideal future with you, you’re married and you are completely devoted to him as he is to you… and he has full control over your life and decisions.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Yes, his jealousy is surprisingly very intense and a little scary. He’s so convinced that you two have a bonding connection that he has this weird paranoia that everyone else is trying to ruin your connection, that anyone and everyone is trying to rip you from his grasp.

It depends on the situation and location with how he would act.

If it’s someone flirting with you or even simply getting too chatty or close to you, he tries to maintain his composure due to being in public. But on the inside he’s absolutely raging. His body language would grow rigid and tense, and his jaw and fists would clench and tighten. The worse he’d look to others is simply just agitation and annoyance. But it’s much darker than that on the inside.

It’s not that he’s insecure that you’d like someone else better, it’s his possessiveness that blinds him and perceives the interaction as a threat, that the person is trying to take you away from him. He’ll quickly insert himself into your conversation, casually bring up you two were an item and even lived together, then eventually take you away from the exchange. Later that night when you two are alone he might lash out in anger at you. He isn’t blaming you but he unintentionally takes his anger out on you verbally.

If it’s a friend you’ve been spending a little too much time with, he will constantly be monitoring you through cameras due to his controlling behavior. He will begin socially isolating you and keep adding things to your schedule to eliminate the free time that you’d spend with the lowlife. If it doesn’t make enough of a difference that pleases him, he might resort to manipulation and threats to maintain his perceived ownership of you.

His jealousy would deeply affect him emotionally. He’s a mess of possessiveness and the fear of losing you. This all consumes him, leading to heightened paranoia and more inability to trust others. His jealousy could drive him to extreme actions that he condones with the simple “it was the last resort”. You wouldn’t miss any of those people you got a little close with yesterday if they suddenly turned up bloody in the newspaper, right?

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Yes, drastically. He puts up this charming, composed facade to his comrades and the public. To everyone he was just this respectful pacifist vegetarian with a very caring and conscientious reputation. But that was just a mask concealing his true colors, the true colors that you had the misfortune of being exposed to. His true colors reveal how arrogant, egotistic, and cold he really is, how intense his God complex actually is. And his obsession and twisted love for you would create a much darker and volatile side of his personality that no one has seen. You’ve seen with your own eyes the extreme lengths he’d go to to protect and control you, showing a stark contrast to his demeanor with others.

Nemesis: Who do they consider a rival?

Not anyone specific, but he would consider literally anyone who poses a perceived threat to his relationship with you as a rival. Like someone who shows interest in or gets close to you, or even someone he perceives as a potential obstacle in your relationship. He views his rivals with intense jealousy and will go to extreme lengths to eliminate or neutralize them. He basically has the paranoia of someone in a contest/competition with the rest of the world, and if you were the end prize he is not afraid to play dirty against the other contenders. He will win.

Obsession: Are they more obsessive or possessive?

I honestly see it as 50/50. He’s obsessed with you to an unhealthy, unsettling, worrying amount. He is completely fixated on you and finds you as the most interesting person he’s ever met. He is obsessed and fascinated with every aspect of your character. He is constantly thinking about you, every single one of his unrelated thoughts always ends with you and he is casually clingy, always wanting to be near you. He’s overly attached to you and before he kidnapped you, stalking you was one of his favorite things to do.

Adrian, in his most simplest form, is just a love-sick creep.

But at the same time, he is incredibly possessive of you. He wants to assert control over you and destroy any perceived threats to your relationship or his animalistic claim on you. He just wants to have you. He will sabotage any and all of your relationships and even harm anyone who gets too close. But this equal combination just makes him an even more dangerous lover.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

I think he would have a high level of patience with you. With your bad behavior, he’s willing to wait and endure any obstacles/challenges that come his way in order to maintain your relationship. Though most of the time he just sees your severe mental breakdowns as mere temper tantrums. And just like a child, you’ll tire out of your little moody tantrum. And when it comes to waiting for you to return his love, he’s also patient. He 100% believes that you will eventually love him back. You two are soulmates, so it’s only natural that you’ll stop resisting and let your attraction sink in.

Additionally, when after his plan is executed and you are so mortified of what he’s done that you won’t even let him touch you or get too close to you, he is still patient with waiting for you to get over it.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

If you died, he would be profoundly devastated and feel like he lost an actual part of himself, like you took a part of him to die with you. He’d never move on, it’d be the most difficult thing he’s ever faced. His obsession and attachment to you are too deeply ingrained inside him. He’d become consumed by his grief, leading to disturbing actions in the future. Also, he’d become a little careless with himself and wouldn’t really care if he risked his life, his own life is significantly less in value to him without you, and that’s saying a lot considering how highly he views himself. He doesn’t want to live in a world where you’re no longer breathing, he wants to reunite with you.

Let’s be honest, you wouldn’t be able to leave him. He would never allow you to go. But if he noticed that it has been on your mental wishlist, he’d resort to extreme measures to try and win back your love, as if he even had it in the first place.

If you successfully escaped, he’d become morbidly obsessed with tracking you down and would resort to extreme measures to regain back control. He is unhealthily determined to find you.

Move on? What a joke. He will never let go of you.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

With his extreme obsession and distorted perception of love, he would never feel guilty. He truly believes he is in the right and that you should be grateful and happy. This is just an act of protecting you and preserving your relationship. He just wants to give you the life you deserve, what’s so wrong with that? He would never willingly release you. His possessiveness and need for control are far too severe.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

He hates it. It saddens and concerns him. He just wants you to be happy, why aren’t you happy? He’s given you everything you could ever ask for, including his infinite love and unwavering devotion. Is it the color of the walls? Because those could be repainted! Was dinner not cooked right? He’ll fire the chef and find the best one in the world! Unless you’d feel safest with him preparing your food, that could be arranged too!

He’ll go to comfort you to the best of his physical abilities, wanting to be the only one to provide solace and support. Your tears will appeal to his savior complex heavily, assuring him that you do need him. He wants to save you.

Although he wouldn’t say it to your face, but you know you wouldn’t be miserable right now if you just accepted his love and reciprocated it. You’re making your own life worse.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

He varies from the classic yandere archetype due to the Watchmen storyline and he might differ with the methods he uses to assert control. Even though he gets very violent and murderous with his motivations to have you, he’s still much more of a pacifist compared to the classic yandere.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

It would be a great challenge but if you could find a way to manipulate his emotions or appeal to his huge ego or savior-complex, it might create an opportunity for escape. You might even be able to appeal to his sense of morality. But this would all require careful planning and you need to take the time to understand his psyche.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Potentially, if he believes it is necessary to protect or possess you. The most violent he would get with you is when capturing you during an escape attempt and dragging you back home.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

He has an extreme level of reverence and worship towards you. He literally views you as a goddess bound to a human body. He would go to great lengths to win you over. At first it would just be extravagant gifts and surprises as well as dreamy promises but then as time goes on he would resort to manipulation, forceful control, or committing harmful actions in the name of love.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

He pines after you for an extended period of time, his obsession slowly taking over him. He officially snaps and crosses the next line when you screamed your rejection at him. He felt as if his perfect world shattered around him, the shards ripping him apart. It’s that night that he simply just couldn’t take it anymore and steals what he wants.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

He really doesn’t want it to come to that, but he is capable of it if he believes it will ultimately strengthen your bond or maintain control over you.

Extra headcanons:

♡ I believe the bigger his ego grows, the more his obsession with you intensifies

♡ He’s constantly seeking your validation and reassurance, when he gets really vulnerable with it he almost looks like a little boy (you saw how he got with Jon at the end of the comic)

♡ He’s highly calculated and strategic in his pursuit of your love

♡ His wealth, reputation, and resourcefulness makes him formidable and dangerous

♡ He’s low key convinced that you did used to love him but somewhere along the way he lost it. Now he’s hell-bent to get it back

♡ He has surveillance and cameras hidden all over the apartment, literally three different angles in every room, so he can still watch you and keep tabs on you while at work. He also just has an unsettling fascination with your every move

♡ Yes he does own a shrine of you

♡ This happens extremely slowly, but he socially isolates you more and more and while his obsession deepens and his morality is deforming, then it transitions into isolating you from the outside world. You eventually end up in a secret underground “lair”, he just wants you to belong to him and him alone

♡ His switch between his charming public persona and his dark, possessive side with you gives you mental whiplash

♡ He spouts out speeches to you about how much he loves you with that space-out look in his eyes, his words filled with dark and possessive undertones which unsettle you greatly

♡ He’s madly greedy with your attention

♡ The retired Crimebusters potentially might interfere with your unhealthy relationship if they notice Adrian’s obsessive and possessive behavior, put their two-cents in on what they think. Adrian feels threatened by their interference and gets defensive/hostile towards them. He’s determined to protect your relationship, even from people he liked to call his friends

♡ Rorschach is a different story. When he first sees you in the paper linked with Adrian, he thinks you’re a gold digging whore set on sabotaging Adrian. He’s suspicious and distrustful of you. But when he stalked you and Adrian on the streets multiple times, he began to notice how just… unhappy you looked. When Adrian wasn’t looking you would glare at him, you tensed when he touched or kissed you, you repeatedly scanned your surroundings as if looking for somewhere to run, and overall unhappy. All this prompted Rorschach to believe that there was something more going on with the city’s golden couple, something dark hidden

♡ After weeks of digging and investigating and interrogating, Rorschach learns the whole truth. And he’s frankly disgusted with Adrian. He’s the one that tries to intervene the most and take action to protect your well-being and prevent any potential harm. But, when he catches onto Rorschach, Adrian does every little thing in his power to keep him away from you

♡ One of the reasons he chooses his own city to destroy for his plan is to finally and permanently eliminate everyone from your life. Now he’s finally the only one in your life. Why are you crying? He is all that you’re ever going to need, he is more than enough

[sirphrogington3rd]

Your face - Wisp

Rorschach x Reader

Rating: Mature

TW: afab reader, violence, sex

Info on you: Increased awareness, think spidey senses. You can tell when people are near, even if you can't see them. You can sense danger and have advanced combat skills.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of Watchmen or its characters. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

♡Comments like and reblogs are never required but are appreciated♡

https://spotify.link/rHhA7L8gKDb

ʚ----------------ɞ

You threw a punch at a thug, and you were in a predicament. Well, it's not like you didn't put yourself in it, but I was still in a predicament. You were a "hero" in a sense, stopping a robbery with three dudes. You got one to hit another in the face with his weapon while the other tried shooting at you, missing you, and hitting the other guy.

"Come on!" you taunted exasperatly, "If your gonna shoot try and hit me!"

He growled with anger as you rushed him, kicking him in the side, then as he bent over you kicked him in the head, knocking his ass out. You looked at the other two then felt another presence

"Hey, ink splotch," you said punching one, "took you long enough."

"Thought you needed some help," he said pushing the back door open

You spun kicked the guy and exhaled deeply, "So you're stalking me?" you joked as Rorschach punched the other

He growled a reply and you laughed, you've worked with him sometimes, and considered him a friend. When you both got them unconscious and tied up for the cops, you turn to him

"The cops are at least a street away we should go," you said

"Yeah."

____

That was a month before the Comedian's death and you hadn't seen Rorschach, not a sign of him. You thought he'd be at the scene, well after everybody left, so you thought to beat him to it. You walked around the trashed condo, glass crunching under your feet. You heard the click of Rorschach's grapple, then the sound of it retracting, pulling him up the building.

"What- what are you doing here?" he asked

"No reason, Mr. Investigation," you said

He tilted his head at you, and you assumed he raised his brow. He then ignored you and started walking around writing things, here and there. You watched him work, following him around, pretending to understand his work. You took out a small camera and snapped a picture of him, he looked back at you, and you pointed the camera in a different direction. Rorschach knew he'd have to get that picture and destroy it.

"So, what's so interesting about this death?" you asked, "he was not well-liked."

Rorschach looked at you, he was not going to explain, you knew that. He just went back to looking around as you took more pictures of the scene. There was definitely something more than one murder, a revenge murder, The Comedian was better than that.

"I'll give you these pictures when they're done developing," you said walking toward the shattered window

He looked at you and nodded, you winked and jumped out the window, head first. He even understood how you just jumped out windows and disappeared, that was your thing.

_____

You climb through your window, knocking over a picture, and you groan. You went to develop the photos in a separate room. After you did that you went to change and shower. Your suit was uncomfortable but you haven't the time to make a new one. You hang up the spandex suit and grab a towel, walking out of your room, and going straight for the bathroom.

"You can't scare me," you said to the figure in the corner, "They're not gonna develop in 5 seconds."

You open the door to your bathroom and walk in. The water was hot on your skin, you washed up and got out. You dried off, wrapping the towel around you, and walking out. You turned looking at Rorschach, he was eating your leftovers.

"If you gonna eat my food you gotta contribute to the grocery bill," you tell walking into your room

You change into pj pants and a shirt and walk out with your wet hair up in a towel, you walk into the kitchen grab a mug, and put a kettle full of water on the stove.

You lean on the island counter, "You can go check um," you said

Rorschach got up and walked into the other room, the kettle whistled with steam. You pour it into your mug and grab a tea bag dipping it a few times before leaving it, you walk into the other room with Rorschach. He was looking at the nearly-developed film.

"Why don't you just buy a digital camera?" he asked you

You sigh, "too much money," you said

He nodded, you closed the door behind you and walked deeper into the room. You placed your hand on his shoulder as he inspected the photos

"So what do you do when you not Rorschach?"

"I'm never not Rorschach," he said simply

You shake your head disappointingly, "We should go out," you offer, sipping at your tea

"No thanks," he said

You smiled, "Classic."

He looked at you the splotches on his face flowing and changing, you removed your hand, and he ruffled through his pocket, pulling out a hundred dollar bill. You pluck it from his hand and pocket it, winking at him.

.

.

.

You walk across a street puffing at a cigarette a car speeds down the street nearly avoiding you

"ARE YOU FUCKING BLIND!!" you yell after the car

they flip you off and you keep walking till you reach your building, you flick the ash off your cigarette, push the end onto the stone wall, and walk up the stairs to your apartment. You unlock your door and walk in, locking your door again.

"you know those are bad for you?" Rorschach said

"What do you care?" you asked

He shrugs, "I need you alive."

"Do you have any leads?"

"I think there's a killer going for everyone in masks," he said

You nod, "After us all? Watchmen are disbanded, no one knows us, well they know Veidt."

"so it has to be one of us."

"A rat- wait- do you think- are you keeping tabs on me??" you question

He shakes his head, "I already paid a visit to Dan, I'm going for Manhattan and Slick Spectre next."

"You're warning us, have fun trying to get through to John," you say

.

.

.

Rorschach makes his way past guards, chained gates, and locked doors to get to Manhattan when he does, he also comes across Silk Spectre. Spectre tells him he shouldn't be here due to him being wanted which he brushes off. Manhattan tells Laurie what Rorschach came to do.

"I already warned Dreiberg and L/N. Came to warn you too," he says

"She's still out there?" Laurie asked

Rorschach nods, "They haven't caught her yet."

She rolls her eyes.

____

Your phone rang

"Hello?" you answer picking it up

"It's Laurie," she says

You smile, "Hey!-"

"-You need to stop, The cops are after you."

You sigh, "I know, but Justice needs to be served."

"You sound like Rorschach," she laughs

"We've been talking."

"Talking? I barely see him" she says

You roll your eyes, "He basically lives with me and we work together, like before," you said

"I don't want to see you in jail, no one knows who you are, retire."

"Okay," you said softly

.....You lied.....

Fighting crime made you feel alive.

You hung up.

A knock at the window, you look up, you already knew he was back before he tapped. You leave the phone taking long strides across the room. You unlock the window and bend over, lifting the window, and opening it.

"Speak the devil," you gasp playfully

Rorschach looks down at you as you back out the window, letting him in.

"We're roommates at this point," you joked, "you need to start paying rent, Mr. Detective."

"You talk too much," he growls

You roll your eyes, "You don't talk enough!" You plop down dramatically on your couch, "you seem so interesting. Let me pick at your mind!"

"What is wrong with you?" He says, folding his arms across his chest

You roll your eyes, "being rude isn't gonna scare me off. You should know better than that besides, Laurie called."

He tilted his head

"She told me to retire," you sigh, "I've been consider—"

"No."

You raise your brow, "no?"

"No."

You sit up more properly, staring at the masked man across your coffee table, "and why is that?" You inquire

"As you said, I know you better than that," he explains

You look up at him from your seat, "We've known each other so long, and I barely know a thing about you," you say, shaking your head

He shifted, listening to your every word.

"God," you say bursting with emotion, "I really like you and all, but I've been waiting for years for you to open your eyes and realize I was standing here the whole time, caring so fucking much about you! But you just make it so hard," you confess

Rorschach looked at you dumbfounded. Was he just ignoring the feelings you so clearly had for him? Ood pieces fell into their equalling stage places, did he also in some strange way... care about you? Maybe he did. This was a chance, a moment of vulnerability between two polar opposite people.

You pulled hair away from your face, you were getting hot with emotion, you palms starting to sweat. You just couldn't keep it inside any longer, it ate away at you.

"Oh god.." You mumble, putting your head in your hands, "that's so embarrassing..."

Rorschach didn't know what to do in this situation. He wasn't good with things like this.

"Where do you keep your alcohol?" He asks

You laugh at the change in subject, "far left cabinet," you answer.

Rorschach walks into your kitchen, grabbing two glasses and some vodka

"Vodka?" He chuckles

"What can I say, I'm a simple girl of simple pleasures," you shrug

Rorschach sits next to you, handing you a shot glass. He opens the bottle and pours some into your glass. You down the harsh liquid, he pours himself a shot and lifts up his mask. You glance at his shown face, his stubble, and his lips.

You hold out your glass, and he pours you and himself another shot, Rorschach grins slightly, and you tap your glass against his.

_____

Shot after shot, you both got drunk. You, definitely drunker than him. He had kicked his shoes off and taken off his jacket hanging it over the back of the couch. You leaned against him, he had his arm over your shoulder. Odd? Yes, but it was comfortable. You reach for the bottle but he swipes it

"One more," you say trying for the bottle again

"You need to sleep," he says standing

you stand up after him, reaching for it again, Rorschach puts down the bottle. You raise your brow and look at him then the bottle, then him again.

"You confuse me," you say

He then kisses you, well it wasn't a kiss, a peck, not even, and you blush slightly.

"You really do confuse me," you said, slowly kissing him, a real kiss.

He kissed back with a little more force and your hands came up slowly to his chest. He might have been one of the most infamous men in New York but he was flesh and blood underneath that mask. He was warm and sturdy.

Rorschach felt something snap inside himself, a long-dead desire, an animal he thought he had tamed. Feeling your hands rubbing up on him, he needed this, needed to feel wanted. The fire of lust he fought so hard to extinguish was ignited by the touch of an old friend. He let himself go, holding your face with his rough hand, drawing you closer.

Your hands moved up his chest to his shoulders, and your fingers slipped under his half-pulled-up mask, feeling the short hairs on the back of his neck. You felt him shiver under your touch making you realize the power you had over him.

"wanna take this to the bedroom?" you asked, breath heavy

Rorschach took in a breath, the smell of alcohol taken with, "yeah," he said deeply

Your hand moves down his shoulders to his hand, taking it in yours tenderly. You lead him to your room and open the door, and he closes it behind himself. You pull closer, kissing his gently before laying and getting onto the bed.

You didn't bother with the lights. You knew he would've wanted them off, You reach into your bedside table. You pull out a condom and put it into Rorschach's hand

"I'm sure you know the basics?" You said jokingly

He growled a response and held it in his teeth while unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. You pulled down your loose pajama pants the your panties, keeping your oversized shirt on. Rorschach pulls down his boxers and rips the wrapper of the condom sliding it down his shaft. You guide him as he slides into you, a groan leaving his lips. You yelp slightly before covering your mouth in embarrassment, your hand held onto his forearm.

The way you held onto Rorschach made him crazy, the fire inside him burning brighter. It took everything in him not to finish right there. He loved hearing the sweet sounds coming from you, he grabbed your hand moving it off your face. You glare at him through the dark, trying to hold back your moans.

He slides his hands up your thighs and to your hips, pushing himself deeper into you with each hungry thrust. You grip your sheets, hearing him groan and mumble curses made you tremble with lust. Rorshach looked down at you through his mask, watching your face contort with each moan. It drove his want deeper.

"Fuck..." he mumbled and he grabbed your hand, holding it

Your hand gripped his as you gasped, teetering on your orgasm.

"God!" you whimpered

Rorschach leans down and presses his lips against yours, you feel him shiver against you. You kiss back, your hand reaching to hold his face, slipping your fingers under the fabric. His jaw hung open slightly. You moan against his lips announcing your climax, arching your back at the feeling. He soon finishes too holding your hips against his. He stays there for a bit, his breath heavy, before laying beside you. You turned your head looking at him

"I'm going to take a shower," you said gently standing up

He nodded while looking up at the ceiling, thinking over this new experience. Rorschach heard you turn on the shower and got up walking after you.

You hear the door open and shuffling, clothes hitting the ground, and you hear the cutin slide open. Rorschach places a hand on your shoulder

"You don't have on your mask?" you ask

"I don't," he says

You look at his hand, "Can I look?"

He grumbled a reluctant, "Yes"

You turned with your eyes scanning over his face, the lines on his face, his jagged features, his sharp eyes. You really looked at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. You place your hand on his cheek and watch his eyes soften.

"Has anyone ever told you how nice your eyes are?" you joked looking into the icy pools

He grinned at you.

_____

As you lay in your bed, cuddling up to Rorschach's side. Then something clicked in your mind, you just fucked the dude you've been "crushing on" for years, but Rorschach was also thinking. Thinking about every opinion he ever had on women,

He sighed and you looked at him, placing a sweet kiss on his cheek. His stomach ached with butterflies at the soft gesture. You lay your head on his shoulder and close your eyes.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Heyy! I tried to keep Rorschach's personally as close to cannon as I could but he does have some ....things..... up with him I had to scrap. I hope you liked it either way tho.

[house-of-slayterr]

Watchmen Incorrect Quotes:

@rorschach-thumbtack

Fang , at an awards show: Well, first of all, I’d like to thank Rorschach, the love of my life, for telling me Thumbtack was going to win so don’t bother to prepare a speech.

Rorschach: What’s it like being tall?

Rorschach: Is it nice?

Rorschach: Can you reach comfortably for the cupboards?

Thumbtack : We live in constant fear of the short ones who, in my experience, will climb 4 chairs, 2 boxes, a small coffee table and 6 oddly placed stools to get what they want.

Fang : It was one time!

Rorschach: I have locked Thumbtack in a cage designed by their own art. Oh, they have been well and truly hoist by their own petard.

Fang : Could you put it another way? I didn’t understand a word of that.

Rorschach: I’m blackmailing them.

Fang : Oh, happy days.

Dan : Hey, no, you stay out of this, this is between me and Silk !

Thumbtack : So Silk knows about this?

Dan , walking away: No, this is between me and me!

Dan : The best part of an oreo is the cookie part, not the frosting. Deal with it.

Fang : Darkness without light is an abyss. Light without darkness is blinding. You cannot have a coin with one side.

Rorschach: YO SOCRATES! IT'S A FUCKING COOKIE!

Fang : Silk, get that hidious thing out of the living room, would you?

Silk: Dan , Fang wants you to get out of the house.

Fang : What are you getting Thumbtack for the holidays?

Dan : I don't know. It's kind of hard buying a gift for your partner when they already got everything they could've ever wanted when they married you. So I'm not sure yet.

Ozymandias : I'm getting Thumbtack a divorce lawyer.

Fang : You know guys, sometimes I feel like Ozymandias doesn't take me seriously enough.

Thumbtack : "Sometimes"?

Dan : "Enough"?

Fang :

Dan : Change that to 'at all' and we'll talk.

Fang : For self defense reasons, I'm going to pretend to be a burglar and you guys have to act wisely.

Rorschach , Thumbtack , & Ozymandias : Okay.

Fang : If you don't want to die, give me all your money.

Rorschach : Bold of you to assume I have money.

Thumbtack : Bold of you to assume I don't want to die.

Ozymandias : Bold of you to assume I can die.

Silk : What’s wrong? You look 10 seconds away from ripping someone’s throat out.

Ozymandias : Fucking Fang and Thumbtack were trying to invoke one of the minor gods again last night. I didn't get an ounce of sleep, thanks to their bloody chanting.

*Casually in the Middle of a High Stakes/Dangerous Situation*

Fang : How do you eat pickles?

Thumbtack : What do you mean?

Fang : I mean, there's a whole process. It's not like you can grab them from the jar with your hand, because it's cold and the juice burns if you have a cut, plus, it's pretty unsanitary. And you can't use a spoon because you'll have to scoop it out, and it'll be way too difficult to grab more than three or four without taking 10 minutes along with half the brine in the jar, even if it's one with holes.

Thumbtack : Yeah, that's why you use a fork.

Fang : Okay, sure, but what if you don't have one of the big ones clean? It's weird to use a small one. But there is always one of those smaller sharp knives clean.

Thumbtack : But the straight edge doesn't really fit the cylindrical shape, and you have to make sure you don' t break it, it's too much work.

Fang : It makes me feel like I deserve the pickles though. Like, "Yeah, I did it. That's right. Good job me." It's empowering. But even after that, it's not like you can use a bowl.

Thumbtack : I get that, it's not ascetically pleasing.

Fang : Exactly! And it looks weird if you don't entirely fill the bowl, but you also can't eat that many. My solution: Use a mug.

Thumbtack : *Nods in agreement*

Ozymandias : That is all very interesting, BUT WE'RE TRYING NOT TO DIE RIGHT NOW! USE YOUR LIMITED ATTENTION SPANS AND FOCUS!

Fang : Jeez, okay.

Thumbtack : Quit yelling at us already.

Thumbtack : Are you reading fan fiction?

Fang , reading an article about extremely rare diseases: Wh- No.

Thumbtack : Oh, is it on AO3?

Fang : This is CNN.

Fang : Thumbtack , I beg of you. Please, PLEASE go to the doctor.

Thumbtack : Hey, I'm sorry. Is this OUR stab wound?

Dan : *seductively takes off glasses*

Dan : Wow...

Silk : *blushes* Haha... what?

Dan : You're really fucking blurry.

Rorschach : Dan and I are so close we even share a toothbrush.

Dan : We what?

Fang : Pfft, you should meet Comedian , they're such a tsundere.

Thumbtack : They... they just stabbed you.

Fang : So cute.

Thumbtack : Isn't it weird that people kill mosquitoes just because they're annoying?

Fang : Damn, if people did that to each other, Comedian would've killed me years ago.

Ozymandius : We’re kind of missing something guys.

Comedian : Cohesion?

Rorschach : Teamwork?

Dan : A general sense of what we’re doing?

Thumbtack : And Fang is not here.

Comedian : Oh, and that, yeah.

Comedian : If you put 'violently' in front of anything to describe your action, it becomes funnier.

Comedian : Violently practices.

Fang : Violently studies.

Thumbtack : Violently sleeps.

Dan : Violently shoots pictures.

Ozymandius : Violently boxes.

Rorschach : Violently murders people.

Thumbtack : Violently worries about the previous statement.

An: all of these are accurate, change my mind!

[feuillemort-imagines]

Hey I'm here for a request and also here to add how much I'm happy to see a blog writing for watchmen now to the request how do Rorschach and Ozymandias react with an optimistic, playful and affectionate but very loyal, serious when needed Female SO?

Ozymandias

-Adrian always thought he’d be alone, that there’d be no time for such things as love when the world peace was teetering the line between chaos and perfection.

-But I guess the gods decided to give Adam his Eve.

-You were a starting hero, a rookie, and the heart of heroism

-Distracting people from pain, patching up childrens injuries with care, telling silly stories to help cheer up the mood

-At that point he knew no way out of simply trying his best to date you

-He confidently asks you out, and is taken aback when you say yes with a playful smile

-You insist on taking him to the amusement park

-at the top of the ferris wheel he saw the lights shine in your eyes

-He truly fell in love with you eternally

-A few months later an extremist group hellbent on killing every watchman invaded your apartment where Adrian was visiting

-They offered you a leading place, to become a queen

-instead you kicked his ass and took your bae to the movies

Rorschach

-You were a waitress in a shitty bar

-the only thing keeping the costumers coming was your hearty smiles and comforting words

-Walter didn’t understand how you could be so happy in a near-dystopian world

-so he kept on watching from the shadows, in disguise without his mask

-one day he was real pissed about not getting the win in a fight

-so he went to take a few shots

-seeing as he was frowning, you tried to cheer him up by inviting him to dinner

-he was shocked, but took the offer

-after a few dates you two became a thing

-no matter how many men and women hit on you you always kept your gaze on only him

-at this point he was starting to think maybe everything isn’t so bad now

thank you for requesting!! you’re the first person i’ve ever written for.

[alovesickdork]

IDK if my other DC friends will apricate these Rorschach headcanons but I'm sharing them anyway.

You have to ask and warn him about hugs beforehand though, lest a limb of yours gets broken out of instinct. Once you get his trust he's very likely to murder someone just cause they harassed you. But any romantic relationship with him is a very slow burn and you have to be patient with him. He's not used to trusting people.

He doesn't like pet names much either, especially not at first. That’s just asking for a death glare at the least. Once he gets more comfortable with you, you might get away with using a nickname.

Refer to his mask as his "face". Like "I left your face on the bathroom counter for you." He’ll trust you a lot easier if he knows that you understand that it’s important to him.

Don’t call him “Walter” unless he tells you that’s his name. Him telling you is a huge sign of trust and it might mean that some of Walter is coming back. He might not be just Rorschach anymore. 

Even non-sexually, he can't really handle waking up in the same bed with someone else until very late in the relationship. Until then, doing so just feels wrong to him. He'll either go sleep on the couch or go off to do crime-fighting. You just have to wait for him to come back and talk later.

He's very repressed romantically.

I'm also like 90% sure he'd punch a nazi mainly because there's just something morally wrong with them.

[judgementdaysunshine]

Masterlist

Fics i have done!

Fandoms i write for!

Young justice

Kaldur'ahm/Aqualad

Megan morse/Miss martian

Connor kent/Superboy

Artemis crock/Tigress

Jaime reyes/Blue beetle

Cassie sandsmark/Wondergirl

Wally west/Kidflash

Barbara gordon/Batgirl

CSI Vegas

Sara sidle

Nick stokes

Mia dickerson

Greg sanders

Catherine willows

Warrick brown

Riley adams

Gil grissom

M*A*S*H*

Benjamin hawkeye pierce

Margaret hot lips houlihan

B.J. hunnicutt

Margie cutler

Radar o'reilly

Kellye yamoto

John mulcahy

Stranger things

Nancy wheeler

Dustin henderson

Max mayfield

Jonathan byers

Robin buckley

Steve harrison

Jane hopper/el

Lucas Sinclair

Joyce byers

Mike wheeler

Barbara holland

Jim hopper

CSI Miami

Walter simmons

Yelena salazar

Ryan wolfe

Natalia boa vista

Eric delko

Calliegh duquesne

Horatio caine

Alexx woods

Jesse cardoza

Marisol delko

Marvel

Kate bishop

Clint barton

Natasha romanoff

T'challa

Cassandra lang

Sam wilson

Kamala khan

Bucky barnes

Shuri

Bruce banner

Mortal kombat

Kung jin

Skarlet

Hanzo hasashi

Sonya blade

Kuai liang

Jaqui briggs

Johnny cage

Kitana

Takeda takashi

Jade

Jax briggs

Cassie cage

Resident evil

Claire redfield

Carlos olivera

Sherry birkins

Leon kennedy

Jill valentine

Jake muller

Helena harper

Chris redfield

Alice

NCIS NOLA

Chris laselle

Loretta wade

Sebastian lund

Hannah khoury

Patton plame

Sonja percy

Dwayne pride

Tammy gregario

Final destination

Clear rivers

Lewis romaro

Wendy christensen

Kevin horton

Carrie dryer

Kevin fischer

Kimberly corman

Thomas burke

Alex browning

The mighty ducks

Fulton reed

Julie gaffney

Adam banks

Charlie conway

Dean portman

Guy germaine

Dwayne robertson

Luiz mendoza

Connie monreau

Criminal minds

Emily prentiss

Spencer reid

Jennifer jareau

Aaron hotchner

Kate callahan

Derek morgan

Penelope garcia

Luke alvez

Tara lewis

Matt simmons

Trauma center

Derek stiles

Angie thompson

Gabriel cunningham

Elena salazar

Erhard miller

Naomi kimishima

Markus vaughn

Valerie blaylock

ER

Susan lewis

Mark greene

Carol hathaway

Doug ross

Kerry weaver

Gregory pratt

Samantha taggart

John carter

Cate banfield

Luka kovac

Harry potter

Cedric diggory

Luna lovegood

Harry potter

Ginny weasley

Remus lupin

Narcissa malfoy

Ron weasley

Nymphodora tonks

Sirius black

Marlene mckinnon

Draco malfoy

Fleur declour

Blaise zabini

Hermione granger

Kingdom hearts

Namine

Riku

Kairi

Sora

Aqua

Terra

Xion

Ventus

Roxas

Xmen

Charles xavier

Ororo munroe

Warren worthington

Kitty pryde

Kurt wagner

Illyana rasputin

Erik leshnerr

Raven darkholme

Logan

Marie d'ancanto

Peter maximoff

Jubliee

Pixie

Pixie o'brien

Harland mckenna

Frank mccullen

Final fantasy

Cloud strife

Oerba dia vanille

Snow villers

Tifa lockhart

Hope esthiem

Oerba yun fang

Vincent valentine

Lighting farron

Zack fair

Aerith gainsborough

Narnia

Lucy pevensie

Peter pevensie

Susan pevensie

Edmund pevensie

Mr tumnus

Prince caspian

NCIS LA

Marty deeks

Shay mosley

Sam hanna

Kensi blye

G callen

Fatima nazami

Eric beale

Harley hidoko

Nell jones

Code lyoko

Aelita schaffer

Odd della robbia

Yumi ishiyama

Ulrich stern

Milly solovieff

William dunbar

Tamiya diop

Jeremy belpois

Triple frontier

Will "ironhead" miller

Frankie "catfish" morales

Benny miller

Santiago "pope" garcia

The night shift

Landry de la cruz

Joey chavez

Gwen gaskin

Kenny fornette

Jordan alexander

Michael ragosa

Drew allister

Shannon rivera

TC callahan

Ewan mcgregor characters

Catcher block

Dan torrance

Perry makepeace

Christopher robin

Rodney copperbottom

Robert lewis

Alex law

Edward bloom

Star wars

Crosshair

Cara dune

Luke skywalker

Aayla secura

Hunter

Din djarin

Padme amidala

Cal kestis

Rey skywalker

Obi wan kenobi

Bo katan kryze

Qui gon jin

Tech

Ahsoka tano

Poe dameron

Leia organa

Echo

Finn

Iden versio

Del meeko

Wrecker

Misc 1

Jack mercer

Mason "mace" brown

Spike spiegel

Toph

Lu fox

Elizabeth martinson

Casi

Laney boggs

Max lewinsky

Mahtilda

Flip zimmerman

Nani pelekai

Murphy macmanus

Korra

Lu fox

Samantha caine

Bill s prescott

Iris

Zack siler

Rachel

David abbott

Marta

Jed eckhart

Tess finnegan

Ryan williams

Barbara novak

Ted logan

Toni

Eugene/vida boheme

Tris prior

Murtagh morzzansson

Skeeter

Christian

Stephanie speck

John wick

Viola eade

Jonathan levy

Evey hammond

Eli "Hawk" Moskowitz

Casey jones

Marni

Elliot alderson

Misc 2

Chris chambers

Andie anderson

Michael perry

Beatrix "the bride" kiddo

Elliott

Quinn fabray

Benjamin barry

Dani rojas

Billy/four

Daphne moon

Javi gutierrez

Allison reynolds

Hector villanueva

April o'neil

Ned tash

Kara

Don billingsley

Asami sato

Beau hutton

Monica long dutton

Joey coalter

Celine naville

Sam munroe

[faebirdie]

request rules and character list

Before requesting a fic or headcanons, please make sure that you have fully read through these rules and assured that the character or characters you are requesting are on my writing list.

Rules:

I am currently only writing fics based off of prompts

Headcanon requests don't need a prompt

If the request is for a prompt, please do not send in a bunch of extra plot requests with it, as this really limits my ability to be creative in my writing

If you send in a request for a fic please include the prompt number (unless the prompt doesn’t have a number), the prompt itself, the character you are requesting, and your preferred pronouns

Only request fics or headcannons when requests are open. If requests are not open I will delete the request

Only request for characters that I write for

Just because I used to write for a character does mean that I do anymore. The current list of characters I write for is below

Please don’t pester me about when your request will be finished, it will only make it harder for me to find the motivation to write

I won’t fill any requests that I am not comfortable with and I am under no obligation to give an explanation for why something might make me uncomfortable

I do not write about eating disorders, self harm, suicidal ideations, or other related topics as I find these subjects especially triggering

I have recently started to write smut, so feel free to send in smutty requests. All of the above rules still apply

I don't write watersports, ddlg/mdlg, or mlm smut. no shame or anything, it's just not in my wheelhouse.

Characters I write for:

Bridgerton:

Anthony Bridgerton

Benedict Bridgerton

Kate Sharma

DC:

Bruce Wayne

Clark Kent

Diana Prince

Jason Todd

John Constantine

Rick Flag

Selina Kyle

Extended MCU:

Bucky Barnes

Druig

Frank Castle

Jennifer Walters

Layla El Faouly

Loki

Matt Murdock

Natasha Romonoff

Peter Parker (TASM)

Steve Rogers

Valkyrie

Wanda Maximoff

Xu Xialing

Yelena Belova

Peaky Blinders: (on hold until the i finally actually watch the new season)

Ada Shelby

Alfie Solomons

Gina Gray

Michael Gray

Thomas Shelby

Star Wars:

Boba Fett

Cassian Andor

Din Djarin

Fennec Shand

Han Solo

Kylo Ren

Poe Dameron

Rey

Stranger Things:

Nancy Wheeler

Steve Harrington

Eddie Munson

The Umbrella Academy: (on hold until i finally watch the new season)

Diego Hargreeves

Klaus Hargreeves

Viktor Hargreeves

The Witcher:

Geralt of Rivia

Tissaia De Vries

Triss Merigold

Yennefer of Vengerberg

Xmen:

Alex Summers

Axel Cluney

Erik Lensherr

Ororo Munroe

Warren Worthington III

Miscellaneous:

Gordon Merkel

Jay (Okja)

John Wick

Spencer Reid

Takeshi Kovacs

Poly Relationships:

Anthony Bridgerton x Reader x Kate Sharma

Boba Fett x Reader x Fennec Shand

Bruce Wayne x Reader x Selina Kyle

Bucky Barnes x Reader x Steve Rogers

Eddie Munson x Reader x Steve Harrington

Gina Gray x Reader x Michael Gray

Nancy Wheeler x Reader x Steve Harrington

Rick Flag x Reader x Takeshi Kovacs (Bionic Exile Universe)

Geralt of Rivia x Reader x Yennefer of Vengerberg

[justasimplesinner]

Hey!! Can you do a hc/fic with Walter kovacs x reader who was a customer at his shop but she wasnt like others, she treated him with kindness and she was diff from others?

sorry this took so long, i've been hella busy lately!

Walter Kovacs with a tailor shop customer hcs:

first time you came in, he didn't think much of it - you weren't the first one insistent on talking to him and disrupting his work. it didn't matter that you weren't criticizing him and instead asking about his day - you were still only a nuisance

but then you became a regular. you always had something to patch up, you helped your neighbours by bringing their clothes, too, so by the end of every week you were there with a handful of clothes to fix and a few new designs to order

it wouldn't be so special to Walter, there were a few regulars - the difference was, however, that you never faltered in asking him about his day, how he was doing or even if the weather was to his liking. the difference was that you never faltered despite his initial responses which consisted strictly of grunts and hums and the occassional 'yes' or 'no'.

you just came into his shop, weekly, shining brighter than the sun and bothered him persistently. few weeks in, you started bringing coffee - he never asked you for coffee. or anything. he couldn't comprehend why would you bring him that. or a batch of cookies you once baked. but as time progressed more and more, he found himself spoiled by you every week

first time you brought him coffee, he refused with a harsh "I didn't ask for this" but you left it for him anyway. it was cold by the time he looked at it again but he downed it nonetheless

he never asked anything of you, but as time progressed, he started being less hesitant to accept your little gifts, be it a warm beverage or a pack of sweets. in fact - although he'd never in his life admit that to anyone, not even himself - he kind of liked it. he appreciated the fact that you went out of your way to do something for someone else, for him of all people, just because you thought he deserved it for his work. he was used to people being selfish, demanding and critical of what he did and then suddenly you jump in and thank him

better yet, there were times where you came just because. you had no buisness with him, nothing to sew, nothing to fix, and yet you still came in. simply to talk over coffee and some baked goods. not because you needed something from him but because you wanted to. and he didn't throw you out

he didn't realize how used he has gotten to your presence until one night, you just... didn't show up. every Friday you were there with hot coffee and a sweet and then suddenly you weren't. and at the worst time, too - luck had it the clerk at a shop he frequented gave him an extra doughnut for some unknown reason and for once in his life he had something to offer you in return - and you just don't show up

he didn't want to admit that he was worried, but his mind immediately jumped to the worst scenarios - you were mugged, or worse, kidnapped, or worse, killed - and it was purely by impulse that he checked your past orders in his shop for your information and walked down to your block first thing after closing much too early, fully expecting to see police officers swarming your building

what he got instead was you, all fine and dandy, with a plethora of bags hanging from your form as you were stumbling across the street to your building. and he lingered there, looking at you with relief a second too long to get away nice and easy

the moment you spotted him, your face brightened up as you marched over straight to him, so happy to see him, asking him what he's doing around these parts of the city when he should be at work. and before he could stop himself, a simple question fell from his lips, interrupting you

"why didn't you come?"

it took you aback a little, that one of voice. he almost sounded mad. like he missed you. like he was awaiting you.

you'd lie if you said it didn't warm your heart when the realization settled in. he liked you coming over. you weren't as much of a nuisance as one might've thought. and so, with a quick explanation that you got held up at work and a sudden wave of bravery, you asked him to come over to your place. it was, after all, just a few steps way

walter had no idea what pushed him to take you up on your offer. what he knew, however, was that he'd never forget that evening. the evening when an unexpected friendship began and really turned his life upside down in the best of ways

[thegeekerynj]

Short Reviews, when the Big Mouth doesn’t have much to say… Or is trying to get caught up from COVID / Election Overload

An Occasional Attempt to Read, Discuss and Review the Wonders of Comics

By: John Rafferty, cranky old man, and Fan of All Things Comics

Short Takes 

Short Reviews, when the Big Mouth doesn’t have much to say… Or is trying to get caught up from COVID / Election Overload

Legion of Super Heroes 6-10  (DC Comics)

Writer: Brian Michael Bendis    Pencils: Ryan Sook (#6 - 7, 10) Various (8 - 9)   Inker: Wade Von Grawbadger (#6 - 7, 10) Various (8 - 9)

‘You want to be called Bouncing Boy?

Looking at the Memexes, we were considering “The Bullet”.

Bullet?

It’s a projectile that——

No, with me, it’s all about the BOUNCE.

———————————————————————————————————

Can Brian Bendis write everything?

Between story, and downright FUN, this is a great book.  Team books are hard to do well, if for no other reason, because of the characterizations. 

Multiple characters mean multiple personalities, and some of those will always get underdeveloped in relationship to the team, as the writer invariably has favorites  Unless…

What we are seeing with LSH is development of characters from across the spectrum. Every book has development of some of the characters, even if they’re not directly involved in the story. This is a far cry from what you see in other books.

Add to this Ryan Sook’s breakdowns, and Wade von Grawbadger’s inks, and you get a pretty package, all tied up in a big bow. More importantly, this is a story with a legacy reaching back 60 years, and is being truly refreshed for a new audience.

This isn’t the Legion I read in 1967, but it’s damned good! 

Out of 5🌶        🌶🌶🌶🌶.5

===========================================================

Suicide Squad #9 - 10  (DC Comics)

Writer: Tom Taylor  Artist: Bruno Redondo

I have Kord’s location.

Okay. Do you also have the Senator?

Oh, did you want him back for some reason? That spineless mouth-breather championed a law to dump more waste into the sea. Delusional, greedy @#$% thinks he owns the world.

I have some friends reminding him he does not.

———————————————————————————————————

Floyd Lawton, first appearance, Batman #59, June 1950, as the man who never misses.

Floyd Lawton, a man who feels no rereason to continue living, but has no wish to die: who puts his life on the line to save his teammates time and time again, to save his daughter and her mother, all with the wish of dying in a truly spectacular fashion.

Floyd Lawton, who finally finds a reason to live, in the eyes of his daughter, Zoe.

Floyd Lawton. Deadshot. Perennial member of Task Force X, finally earned his pardon.

Game Over.

By all that’s Unholy, Tom Taylor is a hateful SOB! But the man writes a great story!

Out of 5🌶        🌶🌶🌶🌶🌶

===========================================================

Marvel Zombies Resurrection # 1 - 4  (Marvel Comics)

Writer: Phillip Kennedy Johnson   Artist: Leonard Kirk

‘Fine. I guess we came all this way. 

Might as well do something really stupid.

———————————————————————————————————

This sums up exploring the World, any world, during a Zombie Apocalypse. Especially when those with Super Powers have been turned into Super Zombies.

So, we pick up with Peter Parker, Forge, Karla Sofen (Moonstone), Valeria and Franklin Richards, a Flerkin named Chewie, and the reprogrammed Sentinel lovingly called ‘Nana’, moving from defendable place to defensible area, seeking a ‘safe place’. Somewhere they can rest for more than one night… if that is possible.

Always realizing the next tree could be hiding a zombified Avenger, or Defender, or Loved one…

Johnson’s Miniseries is another version of the Marvel Zombiepocalypse, which begs the question, what happens when Zombie Galactus infects your world? Or, more importantly, when it CARRIES the infection to your world?

Leonard Kirk’s art style is perfect for this story, a very dark, visceral style which is a little hard on the eyes, making the reader work for every panel. Yes, it hurts to read, but IT SHOULD! It’s Zombies!

This is worth the read if you can get all 4 issues (the first issue came out in July).

Out of 5🌶        🌶🌶🌶🌶

===========================================================

Rorschach #1  (DC Black Label)

Writer: Tom King   Artist: Jorge Fornes

‘They won’t talk to me. Treating me like I’m a  damn Kindergarten kid. I got twins in Kindergarten. Duane and Dwight. I’m not a Kindergarten kid. 

Jesus Christ. What’d they say to you?

That you’re dying.

Shit.

===========================================================

In 1985, Walter Kovacs died. 

It went unnoticed, but for the few in attendance, for Kovacs died following the Alien Invasion of New York, which, in effect saved the world.

Yet, unnoticed, but for the few, Walter Kovacs became a red splash on the Antarctic permafrost.

And Rorschach, the Crime Hunter, died with him.

Or. did he?

In a world existing somewhere between Watchmen 1985 and Current Multiverses, Tom King and begun a noir-ish tale… Did Rorschsch come back, to foil an assassination attempt, and die in the process?

Did he come back, and fail at an attempt at assassination?

Or, Gentle Readers, is there a whole slew of balls in the air we just haven’t seen yet, that we are going to be expected to juggle deftly, as they drop just into sight?

I can’t wait for the answer!

Out of 5🌶        🌶🌶🌶🌶.5

===========================================================

Justice League #54 - 57  (Death Metal Tie-In) (DC Comics)

Writer: Joshua Williamson    Artists: Xermanico (54, 57), Pencils: Robson Rocha (55 - 56), Inks: Daniel Henriquez (55 - 56)

“Don’t you get it Cyborg? We’re not the Justice League!

We’re the Suicide Squad!

———————————————————————————————————

I have said before I am not a fan of Joshua Williamson’s writing.

Maybe I just don’t like him on the Flash. 

Four issues, each of them a very good story, each building, with some action and humor, to a smash mouth endpoint, that brings us to Death Metal #5.

I have to say, I’m enjoying this run of Justice League, even with the switch of artist teams mid - tale Xermanico’s work os beautiful, right into the valley of the Starros (that gave me giggle fits!) Rocha and Henriquez’s work is very pretty, and a little darker than Xermanico’s, giving a more atmospheric touch to the Antenna of LOD.

I have to admit, they do a mean Kori, as well! Really FIERCE, with a Full Length mohawk!

Well worth the cost of admission, and a strong addition to the Metal storyline.

Out of 5🌶        🌶🌶🌶🌶.5

===========================================================

Nightwing #75 - 76 (DC Comics)

Writer: Dan Jurgens   Artists: Travis Moore and Ronan Cliquet (75), Ronan Cliquet (76)

‘We have to talk.’

———————————————————————————————————

Four words. 

Four words that have ended more relationships than violence.

Dan Jurgens has done a masterful job of tying up the Ric Grayson / Amnesias storyline that seems to have run for nigh on ever… by bringing it full circle to Anatoli Knyazev, the KGBeast.

The artwork in these two issues was pretty, with obvious switches between that of Travis Moore (the Titans / Batgirl pages) and Ronan Cliquet’s Batman / KGBeast pages.

Nicely tied up, completing multiple storylines in two issues. Ready to move forward/

Out of 5🌶        🌶🌶🌶.5

===========================================================

Young Justice  #19 - 20 (DC Comics)

Writers: Brian Michael Bendis and David  Walker   Artist: Scott Godlewski

Red Tomato?

I think he said Tornado, and you know it.

Honestly, he talks so fast, I can’t understand him most of the time.

———————————————————————————————————

Damian Wayne, Robin.  Cassie Sandmark, Wonder Girl. Bart Allen, Impulse. Conner Kent, Superboy. Stephanie Brown, Spoiler. Keli Quintela, Teen Lantern. Zan and Jayna. the Wonder Twins. Jinny Hex, Naomi, Amethyst,

Twenty issues in, and the book is cancelled… or is planned to end. Either way, this is a suck way to do things, DC.

This is a great group of characters. Much better than the roster in the Young Justice cartoon, simply for the diversity. Some heroes just coming into their own, some who have existed for years,  (the Wonder Twins have been around in MULTIPLE iterations since the 1970’s), all helping each other… This was a great jumping in book for pre-teens who weren’t up for all the violence / hyperkinetic action / storytelling of a true adult book.

And, it was FUN!

Bendis, Walker and Godlewski produced a fantastic product every month.

One which is ending too soon. Unless, of course, it is going to come back in a new package… 

Hint, hint, hint…

Out of 5🌶        🌶🌶🌶🌶.5

===========================================================

Amazing Spider-Man 50 - 53  ‘Last Remains’  (Marvel Comics (duh!))

Writer: Nick Spencer   Artist: Patrick Gleason

‘You’re going to love it, Pete. There’s no better feeling in this life — Than being surrounded by those you love.

———————————————————————————————————

So, what are the rules around DEAD Characters returning?

Do they have to be relevant after so many years? Shouldn’t they be, well, driven to do something? Not take more than 50 issues to finally get around to saying…”Bazinga!’, or it’s equivalent?

I must admit, issue 50 is the first issue of a Spider-Man book I picked up, and started to enjoy, until I realized I needed to pick up the LR issues also in order to get the whole story. Didn’t’t we get enough of this in the Shooter Years? 

What about a year and a half ago, when Marvel vowed they would never pull this crap again?? 

I guess they forgot… (Insert comparison to jackass in office here).

Too much work, don’t really care.

Especially when the reveal of who Kindred is happens in issue 50, and Peter finds out in #53… Puh-Leez!

At least it’s not Professor Warren and his Gwen Stacy clone. **BRRRRR** Freakin’ Creepy Old Perv!

Out of 5🌶        🌶🌶🌶

===========================================================

Batman 101 - 102 (DC Comics (bigger DUH!))

Writer: James Tynion IV   Artist: Guillen March (101)  Pencils: Carlo Pagulayan   Inks: Danny Miki   Artist: Carlos D’Anda (Pages 13 - 16)

‘DOUBLE RENT! And you don’t talk to the other tenants! They are good people.

Little Santa Prisca is a community. We live through BANE. We live through JOKER. Don’t blow it up with all your nonsense!

You got it Charlie, No Nonsense. Not Here.

Hey! What’s your policy on Hyenas?

———————————————————————————————————

So, Lucius Fox is one of the richest men in the world. 

Selina Kyle has put the Bat on a One Year Clock to get his stuff together, or she walks.

Clownkiller might be the Bernard Goetz of Superhero Vigilantism (look up the reference, I can’t do everything!), but he goes about proving you can’t keep a good vigilante killer down if he has Google.

Ghost Maker is more than we thought, and knows who Bruce Wayne keeps in the closet (or cave).

Is there anyone in Gotham who doesn’t know who Bruce Wayne is?

Tynion continues to pump out some great product, the stories and characters do not disappoint. Including Grifter as Fox’s ‘bodyguard’ was a nice touch, having him get the drop on Batman, a nicer one.

The art in both books, while vastly different, is simply gorgeous. I want to see more od the team of Pagulayan and Miki, I’m hoping to see their work grow with the storylines.

Next issue, BATTLE Sequences! Should be fun, not that it hasn’t been so far.

Out of 5🌶        🌶🌶🌶🌶.5

===========================================================

Shang Chi  #1 - 2 (Marvel Comics)

‘I have to save my Little Sister!

I have to kill my Big Brother!’

———————————————————————————————————

Only meetings should have agendas.

-Me, just now

Once upon a time, Sax Rohmer wrote stories about the machinations of one Fu Manchu, and his oft overturned attempts to take over the world.

In 1973, Steve Engelhart and Jim Starlin brought Shang Chi, son of Fu Manchu into the Marvel Universe, where he and his MI-6 partners Clive Reston and Black Jack Tarr were responsible for being the monkey wrenches in the machinery of Fu Manchu’s Plans.

It seems that Shang Chi is back, without his prior father. He is still proficient in all forms of martial arts, but now, he is ‘Champion of House of the Deadly Hand’ (like that name isn’t going to come to but him in the butt like a Karmic werewolf), and since the passing of his ‘Father”, now the Commander of the Five Weapons Society.

The artwork is pretty, and the story, steeped in Asian Mysticism, is a little draggy so far. Is the story good? Yeah, it’s a nice reminder of a character I exjyed a long tome ago.

Will it get better? Time will tell.

Out of 5🌶        🌶🌶🌶.5

===========================================================

The Rise of Ultraman #1 - 3 (Marvel Comics, by way of Tsuburaya Productions)

Writers: Kyle Higgins and Matt Groom    Artist: Francesco Manna

Oh. You’re here to fight because you think we’re one of the species that can’t evolve.

No. I know you cannot evolve.

Fifty-Four of your years ago, my brother came to assist you. And you killed him.

———————————————————————————————————

In the late 60’s, on certain New York television stations, the Saturday Afternoon hours were filled with Japanese imports, Kaiju - United Science Patrol, and of course the story of the death of Moroboshi, and the coming of Ultraman.

Ultraman, a human - alien symbiosis, who fought the Kaiju menace coming to take over the Earth.

Forward to 2020, a new Ultraman, with a new team of USP helpers / friends, and what looks at this point to be a corrupt system surrounding them.

This creative team has done a marvelous job with the material thus far, reviving this character for a modern reader.

It’s just a shame it’s only 5 issues…

It is definitely worth the read.

Out of 5🌶        🌶🌶🌶🌶🌶

===========================================================

American Vampire 1976 #1 - 2 (DC Comics)

Writer: Scott Snyder   Artist: Artist: Rafael Albuquerque

‘DAMMIT! Before what happened with Gus, you were the best vampire tracker and killer around. I’m asking you to help me take down whoever this PEELING MAN is.

But if this shitty music and LASERS is your life now, then just say so, and I’ll leave you to it.

It’s not a laser, you goddamned idiot.

It’s a SOLAR LAMP. **klik**

———————————————————————————————————

Ten years ago, Scott Snyder, Rafael Albuquerque and Stephen King started a journey which has spanned 10 Years in real time, but 200 years, and 12 separate cycles in series time.

The current iteration has our favorite group of vamps and exterminators running around 1976, wrecking discos, trains, and graveyards, all in the name of bringing back Stoker’s primary villain.

Snyder proves again he is up to the task of creating a world of whimsy and horror, providing mayhem, madness, and the occasional snorting giggle. His droll wit, and ability to write a phenomenal action piece makes this cycle of the American Vampire story a must read.

Out of 5🌶        🌶🌶🌶🌶

[purplelupins]

| MASTERLIST |

MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE WITH ANYTHING MARKED AS NSFW/SMUT

Commissions are OPEN

Nora’s current obsessions

I write fem!reader inserts many fandoms that you can see below! Sometimes I take requests, but currently I am not.

Thank you!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Harry Potter

Remus Lupin

-Hope (angst)

-In the Woods Somewhere(ON HOLD) (NSFW:adventure, violence, angst, fluff, smut)

Clothing page

***MASTER-LIST ***

Severus Snape

- In The Hall (Hurt/Comfort and fluff)

- Nothings Going to Hurt You (Comfort and fluff)

-The Wicked Game (smut)

•Part I

•Part II

•Part III

-Breathless (fluff, wife!professor!reader)

Sirius Black

-Twelve Years (hurt/comfort)

-The Tease (smut)

- His Angel

• part I

•part II (SMUT)

Fargo

V.M. Varga

-Obedience (smut)

•Part 1

•Part 2

•Part 3

•Part 4

•Part 5

Sweeney Todd

Judge Turpin

-Without You (slow burn with eventual smut) on hiatus

CAST

•Chapter 1

•Chapter 2

•Chapter 3

•Chapter 4

•Chapter 5

•Chapter 6

•Chapter 7

•Chapter 8

Woman in the Window

Allistair Russell

-Man in the Window (smut with plot) complete

• Part I

•Part II

•Part III

•Part IV

•Part V (final)

Don’t Breathe

Norman Nordstrom

- Every Breath You Take (smut. oneshot)

Shawshank Redemption

Andy Dufresne

-Sanctuary (smut)

The Black Phone

The Grabber

-Headcanons(sfw&nsfw)

-Sugar, Sugar(nsfw)

Part I

Part II

- Sweet Dreams (dark nsfw) complete

•Part I

• Part II

•Part III

• Part IV(smut)

•Part V (smut)

•Part VI (smut)

-My Pretty Girl (nsfw smut)

-Good Comes to Those Who Wait (dark nsfw smut)

-Happy together (ongoing) (dark Smut)

•Part I

•Part II

•Part III

The Magnificent Seven

Goodnight Robicheux

-Kiss of an Angel

•Part I

•Part II

The Quarry

Travis Hackett

-Bad Moon Rising

•Part I

• Part II

• Part III

• Part IV

Midnight Mass

Father Paul Hill

Lamb (masterlist)

- Part I

- Part II

- Part III

- Part IV

- Part V

-Part VI

Unholy Piety (dark!smut)

Better Call Saul

Lalo Salamanca

What Kind of Man (Smut Drabble)

-Salvator (Crime, Smut)

Part I

Part II

Watchmen

Rorschach/Walter Kovacs

A Pretty Butterfly (oneshot nsfw)

Robocop

Rick Mattox/reader

Losers. Weepers (nsfw oneshot)

Ghost (Band)

Terzo/reader

Agnellino (smut)

Ghost Recon: Breakpoint

Cole Walker/reader

Dumb Puppy (dark smut)

Actors x reader

Christoph waltz

- Rapture (fluff, angst/comfort, nsfw) complete

•Part I (fluff, angst/comfort)

•Part II (fluff, angst/comfort, a little nsfw but nothing explicit)

•Part III(fluff/smut)

•Part IV FINAL (fluff)

[betyloca]

innocent butterfly

Warnings: domestic violence/child abuse/mention of prostitution/violence.

pairing: rorschach x reader

Summary: Walter never had to feel like he had to protect someone, much less feel loved, until he met a person who made him feel that way.

In an apartment there was a red-haired boy walking down a hallway. He had heard some sounds in his mother's room.

He walked slowly as the sounds became more specific, "ahh louder." The boy approached the door, opening it slowly, he noticed that a man was with his mother, was he hugging her?

Walter: Is he hurting you?

The man turned to look at the boy.

x: damn, you have a damn son here

He abruptly separated from the woman, shouting at her.

x: I already have some at home damn it

The woman, angry, approached the child and hit him.

woman: damn I should have aborted you

woman: I don't want to see you here

He closed the door abruptly. The boy touched his sore cheek. He ran to his room, closing the door as he sat on the bed hugging his legs.

He didn't understand why he treated her badly, what he had done to make her hate him.

He heard footsteps coming from the window. He looked outside and saw a girl walking down the fire escape. She fell until she crashed against her window.

x: that hurt

She looked in the direction where the boy was, he was looking at her, he saw her face, you could see a bruise on her cheek.

She raised her hand in greeting. He didn't return the greeting. He thought she would make fun of him. The other children were laughing at him.

She frowned She gestured for him to lift the window to open it He made it to the sale opening it She made it smiling

x: hello, why so serious?

He looked at her, he wasn't expecting that question. She looked at his face, noticing his red cheek. She frowned.

x: I'm y/n myers , if you want, you can join me.

He looked at her and if she was playing with him, he inspected her face as a sign of jest, but he didn't see that. She made a gesture for her to follow him. He went out of the window, following her to the roof of the building.

She walked up to some boxes that were piled up with a blanket on top, it looked like a makeshift house.

y/n: come on, I don't bite

he said while smiling she came in sitting on the floor he came in sitting down she also saw him taking out an ointment from a small box she looked at him

y/n: it's so it doesn't hurt okay

She did it by spreading the cream on his hand. She passed her hand on the boy's cheek, making him gasp in pain.

y/n: I'm sorry

Taking out her hand, she then put some on his cheek. He looked at her, why did she help him?

y/n: well, what's your name?

Walter: Walter Kovacs

y/n: what a cute name

he said while smiling

Walter: why are you helping me?

Y/N: Did you want to stay there with pain in your cheek?

He just didn't respond, lowering his head, he felt a hand caress his hair, he looked up, looking at her, she had a look of concern.

y/n: hey if you want you can stay here when you feel sad

~~~~~~~•~~~~~~~•~~~~~~~~~

They had been good friends, they never separated, she found out that her father was an alcoholic who abused her. When that happened, they escaped to the roof to be alone.

He loved her so much, always protecting her on her birthday, that he gave her a purple scarf. Instead, she kissed him on the cheek. For the first time he felt happy.

But that didn't last long, the social services found out about the girl's abuse, they took her away, she tried to look for her friend but she never saw her again.

In the streets you could see a red-haired man with a sign that said "the end is near." He walked avoiding people, watching people go by, seeing him as a weirdo, he didn't care, he kept walking, minding his own business.

When night fell I was walking down one of the most dangerous streets in the city. He was wearing his "face," as he called his mask. I was investigating the case of a woman who was murdered. He was heading to the home of one of the suspects when he arrived at the apartment and noticed the door was open.

He entered in silence, saw how the place was in disarray, noticed a trail of blood, followed it walking until he reached the kitchen, saw the body of his suspect and a hooded woman.

Rorschach: you.

She ran towards the window leaving there, he followed her, she ran down the stairs, he followed her, she started running towards an alley, he caught up with her, hitting her against the wall.

He complained, standing up and hitting his stomach. He doubled over and grabbed her arm so she couldn't escape. They started fighting. She tried to hit him. He dodged it, making her fall to the ground. He got on top of her so she couldn't escape.

rorschach: you're not so brave anymore

x: fuck you idiot

I noticed he had a purple scarf hiding his face.

Rorschach: Who are you?

x:myers

Rorschach: Myers how much?

x: myers take it or leave it

He looked at her, she was very stubborn, he began to notice that the handkerchief was the same one he gave to his old friend.

rorschach: where did you get the handkerchief?

Myers: From your idiot mother.

He got angry and tore the handkerchief off his face. He started seeing her, but realized that she was the girl who was once his friend.

Rorschach: Y/N?

y/n: not your grandmother

She kicked him in the stomach. She shook him off when he tried to run. He stopped her.

Y/n: let go of me damn stained face

He hesitated to take off his "face" he put both hands on his mask showing her his face she froze when she saw him she stopped resisting

y/n: Walter?

He let her do it. She inspected his face and carefully placed her hands on his cheeks. He never liked people touching him, but she felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She caressed his cheek with teary eyes.

Y/n: how I missed you

She hugged him without wanting to let go. He stiffened, not knowing what to do. Little by little he put his arms around her now that he had found her, he didn't let her go.

[angelofthenight]

Hello! Can you please write Ozymandias relationship headcanons with a female reader who works in his company and is not a superhero. The reader is also very soft, sweet and generous. Thank you 🫶

Adrian Veidt/Ozymandias (Watchmen): Headcanons

(Fem!Reader)

Warnings: None(?)

( I feel like this isn’t exactly what you asked for Anon but I hope you still like it! Usually after I write a character as a yandere it’s a little hard for me to write them as a healthy partner so this was a tad harder writing than it needed to be😭. Also these headcanons are a little different than what I usually write coz I’ve been experimenting a bit )

( Side note: when u guys make requests please specify if you want it yandere or not. Once I write for a character as a yandere I will typically always write them as one so it can get a little confusing for me if I can’t tell if a request wants it that way or not. Thank you for understanding! )

~

♡ You caught Adrian’s eye at a little company fair where the office workers would all make little pop up booths of their proposals for the business they’ve been working on as side projects

♡ Yours was a proposal for a charitable initiative

♡ All the stands Adrian stopped at were too bland and uninspiring, ideas that should not have taken these people a whole year to work on

♡ But your genuine passion for helping others and your innovative ideas immediately captured his attention, as well as your sincerity and knowledgeable wit

♡ And you were just so… sweet

♡ And your soft personality did leave him a little breathless

♡ Adrian has a steely demeanor and a relentless pursuit of his goals, so when he finds himself surprisingly drawn to your warmth and kindness, he initially resists the attraction; dismissing it as a distraction from his work

♡ Especially since of your position and status

♡ But he can’t help but find himself increasingly captivated by your ability to see the good in people, something he struggles with

♡ Your interactions start off as brief encounters in the office corridors or during company events

♡ He then finds himself seeking out opportunities to engage in conversation with you, often subconsciously finding excuses to be around you

♡ Despite your differences, Adrian respects your dedication to your work and your unwavering kindness towards others. He genuinely admires your ability to maintain your principles in a cutthroat corporate environment

♡ Over time, Adrian begins to let his guard down around you, revealing glimpses of vulnerability he rarely shows to anyone else

♡ He just can’t help but find solace in your presence, feeling a sense of peace he rarely experiences elsewhere

♡ Despite his reluctance to acknowledge his feelings, Adrian develops a strong fiercely protective instinct towards you

♡ He expresses his feelings through subtle gestures of affection, like bringing your favorite coffee to the office or leaving small gifts on your desk

♡ He wrestles with conflicting emotions as he grapples with his growing affection for you. On one hand, he fears that his feelings may compromise his focus and ambition. On the other hand, he finds himself unable to resist the pull of his heart

♡ Despite his reservations, Adrian eventually musters the courage to confess his feelings to you and he is so surprised and so relieved when you reciprocate

♡ Your relationship is a delicate balancing act between Adrian's demanding career and your personal lives

♡ Despite his busy schedule, he really prioritizes quality time with you, often scheduling romantic dinners or weekend getaways to unwind together

♡ Adrian loves hearing your opinions, he finds your insights refreshing and values your unique perspective on the world. And soon he begins to value your opinion more than others’ on all certain matters

♡ And later into the relationship you basically gradually become his business partner, thus meaning he literally respects, prefers, and utilizes your opinions above all of his other business partners. To him it’s not favoritism if you’re the only one with more insightful and considerate ideas

“sir, we should ship out the products tomorrow.”

“Hm…”

“I think we should ship them tonight.”

“I agree. It’s decided.”

-

“we should paint the walls a britannia blue”

“What do you think, darling?”

“I was thinking a more providence blue.”

“I like that more. We’re painting them providence blue.”

♡ Also being business partners makes the two of you basically play good cop and bad cop in pitch meetings

♡ He’s a really supportive partner, always encouraging you to pursue your passions and ambitions. He admires your dedication to your own goals and does everything in his power to help you succeed

♡ Being in a relationship with you challenges him to confront his own emotional barriers and vulnerabilities. He learns to communicate more openly and express his feelings, gradually letting go of his stoic facade

♡ But only with you, of course. His work persona and his attitude around you are like completely different people. It’s like he has a switch on his back that can go from “Adrian Veidt, Founder and Owner of Veidt Enterprises” to “(Y/n)’s boyfriend”

♡ Despite his reserved nature, your relationship is filled with moments of intimacy and connection from stolen kisses in the office elevator to quiet evenings curled up on the couch

♡ He cherishes your company more than anyone else’s and he often prefers you to be the one by his side for majority situations and activities. Your positivity and warm disposition simply just makes everything more enjoyable for him

♡ Even in his “alone time” he still prefers you to still be in the same room as him. Yeah, nobody gets it

♡ To him, your presence is the equivalent to a soothing water fountain or white noise

♡ Adrian's analytical mind compliments your emotional intuition, allowing you to tackle problems as a team

♡ He may not be the most overtly affectionate partner, but he shows his love in subtle yet meaningful ways. Whether it's leaving notes of encouragement on your desk or surprising you with tickets to a show you’ve been wanting to see

♡ Despite his occasional cold nature and his flaws (that grand ego beneath his surface), he’s your Prince Charming in your mind. Tall, blond, polite, beautiful, gentle with you, mindful of your feelings, always keeps his word

♡ Lots of hand kisses too

♡ The Crimebusters he still keeps in contact with all notice the effect you’ve had on him for the better

♡ Though they’d be lying if they said they weren’t flabbergasted at first seeing how his whole attitude shifts when interacting with you

♡ Because of his assertive confidence and authority, you make him make a lot of your phone-call appointments for the doctor or dentist

“Excuse me, she asked for no pickles.”

♡ Your side of the bedroom kind of stresses his organized self out because of your clutter so it’s often you find him attempting to clean it and tidy it up

*while fanning himself with his hand* “I feel like I can’t breathe on your side of the room”

♡ Despite your differences, his love for you is unwavering and unconditional. You may have your ups and downs, but at the end of the day, he knows he’s stronger with you than he could ever be apart from you

♡ In fact, he can’t even remember how he functioned in his day to day life before you stepped into the picture

♡ But he frankly doesn’t mind forgetting

[porlockstompf]

READING DE NACHT READING 2017

                                                            my favourite books of the year

my overall favourite book of the year:

     david keenan “this is memorial device” [faber & faber] (2017)

POST-CYBERPUNKSTOMPF:

01 nick harkaway "gnomon" (2017) 02 kim stanley robinson "new york 2140" (2017) 03 m john harrison "you should come with me" (2017) 04 gardner dozois (ed) "the year's best science fiction: thirty-fourth annual collection" (2017) 05 james morrow "the asylum of dr. caligari" (2017)

06 annalee newitz "autonomous" (2017) 07 cory doctorow "walkaway" (2017) 08 dave hutchinson "acadia" (2017)   + dave hutchinson "slow companions" (2017) 09 ed finn (ed) visions, ventures, escape velocities: a collection of space futures" (2017) 10 bryan thomas schmidt (ed) "infinite stars" (2017)

11 allan kaster "the year's top hard science fiction stories" (2017) 12 nina allen "the rift" (2017) 13 charles stross "the delirium brief" (2017) 14 simon morden "at the speed of light" (2017) 15 ada palmer "seven surrenders" (2017) & "the will to battle" (2017)

16 yoon ha lee "raven stratagem" (2017) 17 john joseph adams (ed) "cosmic powers" (2017) 18 mur lafferty "six wakes" (2017) 19 taiyo fujii "orbital cloud" (2017) 20 andrew bannister "creation machine" (2016)     + andrew bannister "iron gods" (2017)

21 gareth l powell "entropic angel & other stories" (2017) 22 ann leckie "provenance" (2017) 23 monica louzon (ed) "catalysts, explorers & secret keepers: women of sf" 24 ian mconald "wolf moon" (2017) 25 neal stephenson & nicole galland "the rise & fall of d.o.d.o." (2017)

26 adam roberts "the real-town murders" (2017) 27 tim pratt "the wrong stars" (2017) 28 jim c. hines "terminal alliance" (2017) 29 charles stross "the empire games" (2017) 30 james s.a. corey "persepolis rising" (2017)     + james s.a. corey "strange dogs" (2017)

31 allen steele "avengers of the moon (captain future)" (2017) 32 neal asher "infinity engine [transformation III]" (2017) 33 jason m. hough "injection burn" (2017)   + jason m. hough "escape velocity" (2017) 34 donna scott (ed) "best of british science fiction 2016"/una mccormack "star of the sea" (2016) 35 david marusek "upon this rock"/john scalzi "collapsing empire" (2017)

& a couple of re-readings: richard k. morgan "takeshi kovacs trilogy" in view of the coming netflix series and colin harvey "damage time" (2010) ... no further reason needed!

STOMPF KLASSIK:

01 matthew mcintosh "the mystery.doc" (2017)

02 sébastien roger "les désordres du monde. walter benjamin à port-bou" (2017) 03 laurent binet "hhhh" (2012) 04 + laurent binet "the 7th function of language" (2017) 05 jean echenoz "special envoy" (2017)

06 paul stanbridge "forbidden line" (2016) 07 ryu murakami "tokyo decadence (2016) 08 aifric campbell "the semantics of murder" (2008) 09 mark vernon "darker with the day" (2017) 10 magnus mills "the forensic records society" (2017)

GEDÄCHTNISSTOMPF:

01 mckenzie wark "general intellects: 25 thinkers for the 21st century" (2017) 02 claude lefort "wat is politiek?" (2016) 03 ger groot & sam ijsseling "dankbaar en aandachtig" (2013) 04 martin heidegger "beiträge zur philosophie (vom ereignis)" (2003) 05 hannah arendt "totalitarisme" (2014)

06 daniel birnbaum & kim west "life on sirius: the situationist international & the exhibition of art" (2016) 07 ger groot "de geest is uit de fles" (2017) 08 sean gaston "the impossible mourning of jacques derrida" (2006) 09 bas heijne "onbehagen: nieuw licht op de beschaafde mens" (2016) 10 giorgio colli "ecrits sur nietzsche" (2017)

11 frédéric neyrat "échapper à l'horreur" (2017) 12 slavoj zizek "against the double blackmail, refugees, terror & other troubles with the neighbours" (2017) 13 henning mankell "quicksand" (2016) 14 jacques rancière "en quel temps vivons-nous? conversations avec eric hazan" (2017) 15 alain badiou "je vous sais si nombreux... " (2017)

16 alain badou & jean-luc nancy "la tradition allemande dans la philosophie" (2017) 17 tom mccarthy "typewriters bombs jellyfish [essays]" (2017) 18 valeria luiselli "tell me how it ends: an essay in 40 questions" (2017) 19 fredric jameson "raymond chandler: the detections of totality" (2016) 20 umberto eco "chronicles of a liquid society" (2017)

POLARSTOMPF:

01 chris petit "pale horse riding" (2017)   + chris petit "the butchers of berlin" (2016)   + chris petit "the human pool" (2002)   + chris petit "the psalm killer" (1996)

02 john le carré "a legacy of spies" (2017) 03 david hewson "sleep baby sleep" (2017) 04 mick herron "slow horses" (2010)   + mick herron "dead lions" (2013)   + mick herron "the list" (2015)   + mick herron "real tigers" (2016)   + mick herron "spook street" (2017) 05 jussi adler-olsen "the scarred woman" (2017)

06 jo nesbo "the thirst" (2017) 07 ben fergusson "the spring of kasper meier" (2014) 08 e.o. chirovici "the book of mirrors" (2017) 09 toni coppers "de zaak magritte" (2017) 10 james r. tuck "mama tried (crime fiction inspired by outlaw country music)" (2016)

YOUNGADULTSTOMPF:

01 philip pullman "la belle sauvage" (2017)

PLATTERSTOMPF:

01 cosey fanni tutti "art sex music" (2017) 02 david keenan "this is memorial device" (2017) 03 joanne demers "drone and apocalypse" (2015) 04 + joanne demers "listening through the noise" (2010) 05 robert barry "the music of the future" (2017)

06 richard cabut & andrew gallix (eds) "punk is dead: modernity killed every night" (2017) 07 butt gavin, kodwo eshun, & mark fisher (eds) "post punk then and now" (2016)" 08 sandra garrido "why are we attracted to sad music" (2016) 09 tomas serrien "klank: een filsofie van de muzikale ervaring" (2017) 10 marlies de munck "waarom chopin de regen niet wilde horen" (2017)

11 daniel warner "live wires" (2017) 12 will carruthers "playing the bass with three left hands" (2016) 13 steve hanley "the big midweek-life inside the fall (2016) 14 tex perkins "tex" (2017) 15 mark lanegan "i am the wolf" (2017)

17 simon reynolds "shock & awe" (2016) 18 andrew o'neill "a history of heavy metal" (2017) 19 bryan ray turcotte "the fucked up reader" (2007) 10 bob batchelor (ed) "literary cash" (2017) 20 simon webb "a 1970s teenager. from bell-bottoms to disco dancing" (2013)

         both bell-bottoms and disco dancing can be had @ muntpunt !

POESISSTOMPF:

01 jonty tiplady "zam bonk dip" (2010) 02 murray lachlan young "how freakin' zeitgeist are you?" (2017)

BILDERSTOMPF:

01 peter-andré bloch "sils-maria - "l'île bienheureuse" pour nietzsche" (2017)

02 willem vanhuyse "atlas van de imaginaire verklaringen: het complete handboek vor de 'patafysicus'" (2017) 03 reinhard kleist "nick cave: mercy on me" (2017) 04 william gibson "archangel (a graphic novel)" (2017) 05 a. uderzo, didier conrad & jean-yves ferri "astérix et la transitalique" (2017)

WISSENSCHAFTSTOMPF:

01 thibault damour & mathieu burniat "mysteries of the quantum universe" (2017) 02 brian cox & jeff forshaw "universal: a journey through the cosmos" (2017)

HUMOURSTOMPF:

01 james acaster "james acaster's classic scrapes" (2017)

02 chris wade “the story of derek and clive” (2017)

CYCLOSTOMPF:

01 frederik bakelandt "grinta! de bergen: 10 legendarsche wielercols" (2017)

02 lucien van impe & filip osselaer "de dag dat ik de tour verloor" (2017) 03 jonas heyerick & jelle vermeersch "bahamontes #17-#20" (2017) 04 frank strack "the hardmen: legends of the cycling gods" (2017) 05 matthias m. r. declercq "de val" (2017)

… tsundoku !

may your home be safe from tigers, leroy, x HNY!

the TBR pile grew with...

lászló krasznahorkai "the world goes on" (2017) samanta schweblin "fever dream" (2017)

peter mark, peter helman & penny snyder (eds) "the mountains in art history" (2017)

alvin lucier (ed) "eight lectures on experimental music" (2017) rhian e jones & eli davies "under my thumb: songs that hate women and the women who love them" (2017)

arne dahl "watching you" (2017) philip kerr "prussian blue" (2017) antti tuomainen "the man who died" (2017) jon michelet "the frozen women" (2017) nicolás obregón "blue light yokohama" (2017)

alex lamb "exodus" (2017) c robert cargill "sea of rust" (2017) chris brookmyre "places in the darkness" (2017) d nolan clark "forgotten worlds" & "forbidden suns" (2017) dan moren "the caledonian gambit" (2017) elizabeth moon "cold welcome" (2017) ferrett steinmetz "the uploaded" (2017) greg egan "dichronauts" (2017) ian whates "the ion raider" (2017) jaine fenn "the martian job" (2017) jamie sawyer "pariah" (2017)

jeff noon "a man of shadows" (2017) joe m mcdermott "the fortress at the end of time" (2017) joe zieja "communication failure" (2017) john kessel "the moon and the other" (2017) john meaney "destructor function" (2017) jonathan strahan (ed) "best sf &f of the year vol 11" & "infinity wars" (2017) kameron hurley "the stars are legion" (2017) kay kenyon "at the table of wolves" (2017) malka older "null states" (2017) marina j. lostetter "noumenon" (2017)

martha wells "all systems red" (2017) neil clark (ed) "galactic empires" & "more human than human" (2017) paul mcauley "austral" (2017) r.e. stearns "barbary station" (2017) robert kroese "last iota" (2017) sage walker "the man in a tree" (2017) stephen baxter "obelisk" (2017) + stephen baxter "the massacre of mankind" (2017) sulari gentill "crossing the lines" (2017) the justified ancients of mu mu “2023 a trilogy” (2017) wendy n. wagner "an oath of dogs" (2017)

[house-of-slayterr]

Ink Blot Meet Cute

Nobody asked for this, but here we go anyways!

Rain fell incessantly from the sky. Hours passed, and the sun was nowhere to be seen. As if it were hiding from something... someone.

Drip-drop.

Drip-drop!

The endless pounding sent waves of pain crashing into your skull. The pitter-patter of your own heartbeat thumping in your chest contrasted vastly with the background noise. The rain was steady, but you, you were uneven, unpredictable. Your heart skipped a beat every now and again, keeping you on your toes. You held tightly onto the cup of coffee in your hands. Empty.

"Need a refill?" A shrill voice called.

You slid your cup forward in a silent gesture, a fake smile tugging at your lips. They were dry, cracked. The buzz of New York reverberated in your head. It was like a bee, zooming back and forth and back and forth. You hated it, all of it.

You offered a weak "Thanks", your head held down. You hissed when a bit of coffee jumped out of the cup, marring the flesh on your wrist.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" the waitress exclaimed.

You growled under your breath, settling on a harsh "Forget about it!"

Your voice was low as it cut through the air. Fresh tears dared to fall from her eyes. You watched as she bit her lower lip and bowed her head before rushing off to help the next customer. Your eyes trailed after her fleeting form. She was small and fragile, you couldn't help but wonder how she survived in a city like this. A city of sin.

You grabbed a napkin from the container in front of you, using it to wipe off the coffee. The stinging wore off as you roughly rubbed the skin in annoyance. Could today get any worse? That was a silly question.

Your head shot up in haste when the bell above the door chimed. Watching as your target made his way inside. Eddie Blake. He was looking much worse for wear than you expected. Your eyes subtly followed him as he made his way further into the shitty dinner. He'd gotten old, they all had.

You weren't sure why your client had you investigating him. Sure, he was worth investigating, but everything anyone needed to know was already known. He was a washed-up, unadulterated piece of shit. At least he would be interesting to watch, you doubt you'd lose your focus on this case.

You observed as he shamelessly flirted with the waitress, your waitress. She squirmed under his gaze. Her discomfort goes unnoticed, perhaps intentionally, by the man. It was disgusting.

You couldn't interview, not yet. He couldn't know you were watching him. Just sat there waiting for the moment when he'd slip up. You knew it would come. So you sat and finished your coffee, your heading still pulsating.

The day came and went. Your feet ached from all the walking. You honestly needed to hit the gym. Getting inside his home would be difficult, you couldn't follow him there. But you had to find something to give to your client. He was paying you a lot of money after all. You wouldn't dare show up empty-handed, lest your career crashes and burn before your eyes. It would be a death sentence.

So you set up camp on the roof across the way. You used your equipment to watch the man through his vast glass windows. After a while, a sense of darkness fell over you. It had been clam, to clam for your liking. You couldn't shake the feeling of dread building in your heart. But you pushed past it, getting out your camera to capture the scene.

It all happened so fast. Punches were thrown, and blood was spilt. Your head was reading as you recorded the whole encounter. The attacker's face was covered, hidden behind a lazy disguise. You propped the camera on the edge of the roof, hoping down from your post. You couldn't just sit here and watch Eddie get the shit kicked out of him.

That's when you heard it, the deafening sound of shattering glass. Your heart sank. You ran to the ledge and watched in horror as your subject crashed into the ground. The concrete around him sounded in a nauseating crack. You were sick. Your body shook as you watched the other figure vanish into the night.

Your lungs ached as you ran down the staircase. Floor after floor you flew past at breathtaking speeds. You pushed through the quickly forming crowd and got a closer look. There laid The Comedian, the infamous antihero, dead as a doornail. The world began to spin as you looked down at his corpse.

Your eyes caught sight of something yellow sticking out of the storm drain. You let your feet carry you over to it. There laid his yellow smiley face pin, painted with a fresh layer of his own blood. You picked it up between your nimble fingers and slipped it into your pocket.

You went back to the roof, gathering your stuff as you thought over your options. This would be huge for your client to get the first scoop. But something in your head told you this was no good. You couldn't shake the feeling that you were meant to see this, to gather proof. Like this was some sick game your client had in mind for you. The young, naive private investigator, desperate for a buck.

So you went against your training, storing the camera safely away from the public eye. The cops would be suspicious if they found this footage. Something you were sure no one was meant to see. It was far too easier for the stranger to get the jump on a supposed trained hero. everything about this screamed foul play. You had to get to the bottom of it. So you snuck your way in.

You took pictures of everything. Committing every detail to memory. But the sound of metal scraping against the floor caught your attention. You hid quickly, slipping into the nearest closet. You watched from the cracks as someone appeared in the window.

You'd seen this stranger before. This costume was unmistakable. Before you crotched Rorschach, another one of New York city's self-proclaimed protectors.

You stifled a breath as you watched him make his way around the apartment. It was clear he was running an investigation of his own. An investigation of the death of his... friend. It hit you harder than you thought it would. Eddie was popular, but he wasn't well-liked by any means. It was easy to forget that people could care about him. That people would miss him.

He suddenly stiffened. The hair on the back of your neck stood on edge as you watch intently. He suddenly turned to the closet, your hiding spot. Shit. You pressed yourself as far back as you could, trying to hide in the shadows, but it was too late. Rorschach was locked in on you.

You held your breath as he approached, ripping the doors open. He stared down at you, despite not having his eyes visible. You couldn't bring yourself to look away. That would look suspicious, in fact, you already look incredibly so.

Without a word he gripped your arm, ripping you violently from your hiding. You stumbled forward, desperately trying not to lose your balance. You screwed your eyes shut as you heard the sound of a pin hitting the floor. This looked bad.

A growl emitted from his throat as you stood there shell-shocked. He launched forward, gripping the pin tightly in his gloved hand after retiring it from the floor.

"I didn't do this?" You defended.

He turned his full attention back to you.

"Hiding in the apartment, Blood on your shoes and his pin in your pocket." He listed.

You glanced down at your shoes, noticing the blood for the first time that evening.

"I know what this looks like-"

"There's nothing you can say that will make this better. So if I were you, Kid, Id stop talking."

His little pet name set you off. You hated when people were condescending like that. He took after Eddie in that way. And after the day you had, you lost it.

"Don't tell me to shut up!" You growled.

He glared down at you, slightly surprised by your shift in tone.

"I have been following that asshole around all day! Working for someone whos an even bigger dickwad than he was! I'm cold and I'm wet and I'm starving. And now I have some idiot wearing a fucking spandex face mask accusing me of murder. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go scrub his blood off my shoes and go back to my shitty apartment and drink myself to sleep. I want to forget this whole stupid night!" You ranted.

Rorschach bit back a chuckle. You were a firey one, he'd give you that. It was funny that he could suspect you of murder, but not expect your sass.

"I never accused you of murder, Comedian could have laid you flat on your ass in his sleep. Seen him do it before. I simply want to know what a kid like you is doing snooping around in manners that don't concern you."

"Get this through you thick fucking skull, I;m not a child. Call me one again, that second window starting to look a bit lonely."

You knew your threat was thinly veiled at best. He knew it too. But seeing you seething with rage was amusing to the man.

"And stop staring at me with that smug expression!"

He was confused, you couldn't see his face. How could you have known? You sighed when you realised your words. You crossed your arms over your chest before offering an explanation.

"I used to be an art major, inkblot tests are kind of my speciality."

At this, the man before you finally let out a laugh. It sounded nice in your ears.

"You're just full of surprises aren't you Ki-"

"Y/N" You offered.

"Rorschach."

"Fair enough" you sighed.

You don't know why it bothered you that he didn't tell you his real name. Why would he? You hadn't even seen his face, knowing his name would be too personal. ANd you would respect that boundary.

"Look, I desperately need a shower and some nosh. I saw quite a bit and I'm willing to share with you what I know. Believe it or not, I kinda need to find his killer too. MY client is gonna kill me if I don't give him this footage, and that doesn't feel appropriate. So I'll cut you a deal. You let me help you on this case, I'll give you all the footage and photos from the day. I can tell you everyone he interacted with and where he went."

Rorschach thought it over.

"Who paid you to watch him?"

"Someone who's not very nice, couldn't exactly say no. Besides I needed the money, didn't know it would end up in a literal bloodbath. Not getting paid enough for that shit."

"You have your priorities sorted." He jeered.

"This city breeds desperation, you should know that better than anyone else. Besides, you're one to judge. Bet you've done worse just for fun."

"Ah, so you're a fan."

You couldn't hide the blush that crept onto your cheeks. You cursed yourself under your breath.

"Hardly. So what do you say Sour-face? Do we have a deal?"

"It's a date sweetheart, I'm looking forward to it."

You watched in silence as he leapt out the window, grappling hook in hand.

"New Yorkers!" You exclaimed, rolling your eyes.

AN: Ahhhh omg! I fucking love this man so much it hurts. I don't know if any of you that follow me are watchmen fans, but I've been hyperfixating on it recently. So sorry if I keep writing more. I hope you like it anyways.