#And Joker just gets visibly very confused like. 'what are even those points?????'

[itsredpaint]

🥞

[personasintro]

sucker (m.) | pjm

❥𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔; You wish you'd pay more attention to Jimin. Like, how his eyes kept changing color. How cold his skin was, too unrealistically to be natural. Or one second, he flashed you with his sharp canines and the next one he didn't have any. How much he craved for you, but not the way you thought he was.

❥𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: smut, angst, vampire au, horror au (?), vampire!jimin x human!reader, supernatural au

❥𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: explicit language, smut; slight biting, oral sex [man receiving], fingering, penetration, unprotected & rough sex, slight dom!jimin, death & mentions of death, blood, mentions of alcohol

❥𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 10.9k+ 

𝒂/𝒏: I got this story idea after halloween and this is the first time I've written a vampire au, so I really hope you'll like it, this is something new for me but was so much fun to write!! banner by @dee-ehn​ (thank you luv, you did an amazing job!!)

𝒎.𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕  | © 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒐 (𝒏𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒂��𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒅)

Frat parties aren’t usually Jimin’s go-to place but considering the sudden circumstances, he had to agree and couldn't say no to his friend who had chosen the most overcrowded party. In other cases, Jimin would’ve chosen somewhere less crowded but enough to blend with his surroundings. Although, Taehyung deserves a few points for thinking this out considering today’s theme is Halloween. There’s no need to hide anything, especially their appearance that still doesn’t seem as weird as people dressed as pumpkin and other weird costumes. Just as a young male passes by, obviously dressed as Dracula while wearing a cheap cape, his friend snorts under his breath but Jimin can hear him perfectly.

“Horrendous,” Taehyung comments, scoffing at the guy that’s too preoccupied with a girl clinging to his side dressed as something both of them can’t recognize. “Let’s go, I’m hungry.” he grins, licking his bottom lip before they make their way into the huge house full of drunk people.

It’ll be hard to find someone sober or not drunk enough, Jimin thinks while his eyes scan the entire room.

“Jimin-ah,” Taehyung slaps his hands over Jimin’s shoulders while he clutches them but his friend barely reacts, already used to Taehyung's rough hands and strength. “Try to have fun.”

Jimin rolls his eyes, still looking around to map out the whole room almost as if he’s waiting for something to happen. He knows nothing will, none of these people are ready for tonight and are completely clueless. Sometimes, he wonders how it’d feel like to just let loose and drink alcohol like every other person here. Loud rap music boosts against the walls, barely good enough music to dance to, but it seems nobody cares about that and dance no matter how ridiculous they look. A group of young girls pass by them, one in particular eyeing Taehyung as she winks at him, giving him a hint that even she doesn’t know about.

“Well, that’s my cue,” Taehyung grins, slapping Jimin’s shoulder with enthusiasm from receiving attention even though he barely came in. “Two hours?” he asks, slowly backing away from Jimin’s figure who responds with a short but firm nod.

Sighing, with Taehyung no longer in sight, he forces his legs to move through the crowd which is just bunch of drunk college students. It’s hard to blend, especially if he’s the only one sober out of everyone. He walks through the house, not particularly knowing where he’s going since he has no idea where he is. This is his first time here — probably last too. They never come back, not even once. They always just move on and plan things together, with Taehyung. Somehow, his legs lead him to a kitchen, less preoccupied room with an exception since there are still some people sucking their mouths off. Jimin’s nose scrunches in a slight disgust at the smell of alcohol, knowing that it’s just the picky side of him.

Taehyung had been in charge of tonight’s plans, it makes sense this plan sucks. Jimin doesn’t like it here but it’ll have to do. His sharp eyes dance across the room, nose softly sniffling as a sweet scent fills it and then he sees something. Something that looks much more interesting than anything he could’ve seen here so far.

You.

In other scenarios, you’d probably spend your Friday night differently than in a frat house full of people you don’t know. That wouldn’t even be such a bad thing, if your friend didn’t bail on you because her ex wanted to talk. You’re not mad, you’re just annoyed that you’ve been standing here for the past fifteen minutes watching couples make out, while third guy tried flirt with you. May you add, completely wasted where you could smell the alcohol on their breath. That’s enough to make you not interested and disgusted at the same time. When another guy dressed like Joker tries to talk to you, you ignore him and tell him to fuck off. You’re not rude, not all the time. But it’s only natural of you to act this way, especially when you let them know you’re not interested and they still keep trying. It’s like it pushes them to be even more eager to try to win you over. Well, you’re not some trophy and drunk enough to do that.

The guy gives you an ugly frown, visibly displeased by your choice of words but luckily he leaves you alone and your heart slowly calms down. You don’t know what drunk men are capable of, but you get the idea. You need to be careful either way. Not drinking any drink from strangers and not provoke anyone who's drunk, even if it’s standing up for yourself. Those are the rules you need to keep reminding yourself, especially in this place where alcohol clouds most people's judgement and mind. 

Ah fuck, tonight is supposed to be fun.

“Playing hard to get?”

Your head whips at the soft voice, completely contrasting with the awful music and people’s chattering drunken nonsense. Mouth opening in a mere shock, you’re met with a guy you’ve never seen before which isn’t that weird since you barely know anyone here. But you’d surely remember him, if you ever met him. It’s safe to say, he’s probably the hottest guy you’ve ever seen and looked your way. His blond hair is parted in the middle, swiped back as this particular hairstyle shows his sharp jaw but soft features. One of the most eye catching features are those thick lips, looking juicy and soft, like two pillows and the most delicious desert. And you can’t fucking believe you’re gushing over some stranger but you’re surely not done yet. His eyes are sharp and there’s a weird glint in them, maybe it's because of the orangey–red shade they hold. Black leather jacket hugs his frame along with, what seems like a casual white shirt underneath, and a great fit black jeans. You wonder what kind of mask he’s wearing, but then he grins at you and shows you his white teeth. Two sharp fangs poke his bottom lip, making you almost jump in surprise but you sigh in relief.

He seems to know you were just checking him out, judging by the slight smirk he’s trying to hide while he makes his way over to you.

“Just not interested.” you reply, deciding it’s better to find your own voice rather than to gawk at this sex god.

“I don’t blame you,” he speaks, your eyes flickering to his. There’s something that makes your heart skip a beat, maybe it’s his alluring eyes that seems to know everything. As if he could tell you’re mentally screaming at his hotness. “Young guys can be... very persistent and act upon their hormones.”

You snort, placing a hand over your mouth as you start giggling at his choice of words. “You can say it. They’re just horny and looking for sex.”

He smiles, tracing a tongue over his lower lip as his steps come to a halt just a few inches before you. He looks even more heartbreaking from up close. The lightning is shitty but there’s not an inch of flaw on his soft glass skin, he looks slightly more on the pale side, but that has to be the make up. At least he hadn’t overdid it like you’ve seen some other guys. And those eyes... what kind of lenses are they?

“You’re right, they can be like that.” he agrees, still sporting that secretive smirk adorning both his eyes and lips.

You snicker, causing his brow to raise in a mere confusion. “So, what? You’re not one of them?”

There’s no way such a handsome guy wouldn’t use his charms to get the best out of it. He said it himself, young guys are horny just like most girls. It’s not like you judge him for it, he can do whatever he wants as long as he’s respectful to others and doesn’t cross any boundaries.

“I’m certainly not,” he says, voice lacking of that sweet yet mysterious tone he used before. There’s something that flickers behind his eyes but it’s gone before you can dwell what it really was. “I didn’t come here to have sex.”

You’re surprised by his bluntness, not expecting him being so blunt all of a sudden, especially about that sex part since he basically ran his way around the topic of guys being horny and wanting to have sex. But you like it, even though you can’t bring yourself to grin like you want to, not when he’s staring at you with gaze darkening.

“Why did you come here for then?” you ask quietly, eyes searching for any kind of emotion or something that could give you a better glimpse inside of his mind.

There’s something about him. He’s mysterious, hiding something and you’re sure it’s just a part of his personality. Either way, it makes him even hotter and you’d drop onto your knees for this man. But there’s your dignity in the way and somehow, you’re glad about that. You’re not one to have a meaningless one night stand. Not that he’d probably want or care to have one with you.

It’s getting awkward, the silence between you two as he complements about his answer causing you to play with the hem of your stupid dress that aren’t even yours. But then something clicks inside of him and he smiles.

“To have fun.”

“Good luck with that.” you murmur, sarcasm lacing in your tone because you can’t believe Yeri just went after her ex leaving you ‘socializing’ (as she called it) with total strangers. Drunk strangers.

You don’t expect the hot stranger to hear you, your voice muffled by the loud music mainly, but he does when a deep chuckle erupts past his lips.

“Why’s that?”

“If you didn’t come here to have sex or get drunk, I don’t think you’ll have fun. Look at everyone.” you chuckle, arms motioning around you to prove your point.

He doesn’t, his eyes stay solely on you but you’re too busy being sarcastic and still bitter about this party to properly register that.

Jimin isn’t stupid. He knows how these parties work. Where’s alcohol, there’s a big urge to have sex and it proves to be right when everyone’s kissing or dancing which mainly leads to the sex itself.

“I take it you’re not here willingly.” he speaks up, eyes dropping towards your mouth where a fake blood is smeared in the corner of your lips.

It’s supposed to add a little bit of horror detail to your look, but you’re far from that.

“Debatable. My friend had decided to invite me at the last minute and now she ditched me because of her ex. Honestly, the guy is a total prick, I don’t know why she keeps running after him.” you explain, scoffing as you cross your arms over your chest.

Jimin reacts with a low chuckle, slowly licking his bottom lip before he takes a deep breath. It’s interesting to watch him, there’s something about him that you can’t quite put your finger on.

You wouldn’t tell Yeri’s business to just some stranger, or anyone, but maybe it’s those two shots of soju that let your mouth on the loose. He doesn’t know her anyway and you’re too annoyed to care, even though you do feel a pang of guilt.

“What are you doing here? Besides, to have fun here. Did you come here alone?”

Great, Y/N. Now you sound noisy making it sound like you’re asking if he has a girlfriend. Did you come here alone is a totally straightforward question, a very bad pickup line usually guys use. You’ve no idea why you just asked that. However, Jimin doesn’t seem to mind and even though, his lips quirk in a sly smirk and you act like you haven’t noticed, he shakes his head to give you an answer.

“My friend was particularly interested in this party.”

He doesn’t lie, it’s true. Taehyung did persuade Jimin to come to this one.

“Oh, so you were dragged into this like me,” you chuckle.

He isn’t, but he stays quiet.

“I wish she’d tell me sooner than four hours before the party had started. I wasn’t prepared, I didn’t even get to shop for my Halloween look and ended up with Yeri’s costume from last year. God knows what these dresses have been through.”

The incredibly handsome stranger laughs, like truly laughs and it’s the most beautiful sound ever. It makes you grin without even noticing.

“I do think you make a perfect mixture of spooky and ravishing nurse.”

Yeah, Yeri’s costume last year was a nurse but you put your own thought into it and put some fake blood in the corner of your lips and the top of your cheekbone. There’s some of it on your collarbone and arm just to make it more ‘scary’ but it’s just a huge fail. The dress is short, luckily not dangerously short for you to feel uncomfortable in them. You’re not even sure if this is a Halloween costume. Yeri looks like the type of girl to like foreplay, maybe she used it with her ex. Oh fuck, you can’t think about that.

His compliment completely blows all your thoughts out, your heart picking a pace as for the first time, your facade slowly falls down and you blush. Did he just called you hot?

“Thanks,” you grin, “Although, I think this costume is shitty it’s still better than being dressed as Harley.”

“Harley?” he asks, cocking his head to the side.

You stare at him, watching his confused gaze before something flickers in his eyes and he just stares at you.

Well, not everyone had seen Suicide Squad.

“From the movie? Suicide Squad? Harley and Joker? They’re this lunatic couple and everyone’s been wearing their costumes for the past... three years, is it? I don’t even know but it’s so cliché. I think I saw four Jokers on my way to the bathroom. Don’t get me started on Harley.” you roll your eyes, leaning yourself against the kitchen counter that’s behind you.

The two of you just stand in silence for a couple of seconds, and you almost think it’s awkward even though there’s not an awkward atmosphere and you’re just standing in a comfortable silence.

“So, vampire, huh?” you fill the silence after a moment, catching his attention as he watches you with a serious look. “Not to be an asshole, but that’s an overused costume as well.” you add, wondering if you’re getting too comfortable with this stranger.

But he’s probably the most normal and sober guy you stumbled upon, even if he’s the one who approached you. There’s something odd about him, but that’s just because he’s not like one of those drunk assholes trying to get you into one of the rooms upstairs. He’s not rude, disrespectful and drunk and that’s all that matters for you to feel comfortable talking to him.

His features relax and he lets out a breathy chuckle, showing his fangs. “Their costumes don’t do the justice.” he comments, eyes watching one of the guy passing by who’s got vampire costume which makes you snort. 

Overused, like you said.

“They do look cheap,” you comment, giggling. “Isn’t it uncomfortable to talk with those?”

He looks at you with confusion, mouth opening in realization when you point at your teeth to explain.

“No.”

It comes out short, surprisingly deep and serious and for a moment, it looks like he wants to say something else but decides not to when he closes his mouth.

“You look believeable, though.”

“I do, don’t I?” he chuckles, and your body relaxes when all the seriousness is gone.

“Your skin is pale, not covered in that awful white color and your eyes... wow, those lenses look beautiful. It must’ve been an expensive costume.” you tell him, head leaning towards him as you study his eyes.

They’re almost deep red. Weren’t they more orange before? The lightening is shitty and honestly, you’re too busy inspecting the beauty and uniqueness of his eyes.

He looks stunned, and it looks like he stopped breathing for a moment when you lean closer to him to study his eyes and face. He closes his mouth, not letting you see the fangs hiding underneath those plump lips and even though they’re slightly poking, you can’t see much. He’s dressed normally, not wearing some awful costume. He’s done the minimum with his costume but he can easily win as the vampire of this party. It’s not too much, decent enough to make people stop and praise his costume if they had the chance to be face to face with him.

“I’m Jimin.” he decides to say instead, not even showing his gratitude from your compliment but you ignore it.

It was more of a loud thought anyway. You’re distracted again, this time by his name.

Jimin.

Fuck, even his name is beautiful.

“Y/N,” you tell him, giving him a smile which you hide by taking a sip of your drink.

He watches you, eyes scanning your lips before they move down to your throat as you gulp. You’re too focused watching people dance to notice the way he licks his lips and gulps.

“So, are you studying here?”

His eyes shoot up, your voice catching his attention once again before he thinks through your question. It’s weird how long he’s taking to actually answer, it’s quite simple question that's got a simple answer.

“No,”

That’s it? Just no?

He must’ve noticed the faint frown that settles on your face before he gives you a little quirk of his lips, those plump lips stretching to a handsome smile that once again gets all your attention.

“Are you?”

“Huh?” you blurt out, embarrassed how quick that flew out of your mouth.

You’re even more embarrassed, your cheeks slowly tinting into a red color when he chuckles lowly under his breath, completely aware of your lack of attention because all of it was focused on his goddamn smirk.

“Are you studying here?” he asks, not hiding that amused smirk that slowly settles into a soft smile that encourages you to answer.

“Yeah,” you smile, “psychology.”

“Are you a future psychologist?” he asks, a glint of teasing in his tone but there’s a curiosity lacing on his soft pale features.

How did he guess that?

“Maybe?” you chuckle, poking your inner cheek with a tongue. “I thought that’s what I want to be in the future, growing up it used to be my dream.” you tell him honestly.

You’ve no idea why you’re so honest and talkative with a complete stranger. Even though you haven’t exposed anything too personal about yourself, it feels very simple to talk to Jimin. He holds this calm aura around him that makes you want to tell him your deepest secrets without you feeling guilty about it the next morning.

“Used to? It’s not anymore?” he asks, cocking his head innocently but you know he’s not stupid and knows what your words meant very well.

For some reason, it seems like he really wants to talk to you and urges you to talk more. He seems interested in you. Not seeing you as a snack and walking vagina, but maybe just someone he wants to talk with because he’s been dragged into this party just like you have. That’s one thing you’ve in common.

“Do you really wanna hear my heartbreaking life story?” you tease him, chuckling when the corner of his lips quirk up once again as he gives you a final nod.

“I’m quite intrigued.” he simply says, your heart skipping a beat for some reason and almost as if he could hear it, he lifts his eyebrow in a provocative and cocky manner.

“Will you tell me yours?” you ask in return, cocking your brow at him which makes him smile.

“Depends on how interesting yours will be.” he says, your lips set into a straight line before you purse them and give him a long sigh.

“It’s nothing drastic. I just feel like it’s not what I wanna do anymore, the worst thing of it all is that I’ve no idea what I wanna do in the first place. But it’d be a good job for me, something I need. It pays well and maybe, it’ll be more fun than I think it is right now. All I can think about is my dad and just the fact that I need to keep going. Life sucks, right?” you chuckle, trying to ease the sudden serious and saddened tone you had.

Jimin is not a person who gets bluffed easily but he acts like he hadn’t noticed anything.

“Your dad?” he asks, slowly watching your reaction as if he’s waiting for you to tell him some drastic news about your father.

“It’s just me and my dad. He’s got a huge loan for the next couple of years and I’m trying to help him, but the part-time jobs just aren’t enough. When I finish college, I’ll be able to find a better job and help him with that. He deserves it and that’s what keeps me going, y’know? I need to pay him back for taking care of me. But it’s okay, I just can’t wait until there’s no loan over our heads. I came to the conclusion that life can be happy and fun, even if there are things that suck.” you explain, noticing how interested he seems to be with your words, sinking all of the information you just gave him.

Despite how sad you seemed to be talking about your family, Jimin notices that you’re staying positive no matter what exactly happened in your life and what you haven’t told him. And that you’ve a goal, purpose you want to fill and probably a bigger heart that you're letting show to others. Maybe he’s wrong, it doesn’t have to be this way. He doesn’t know you. But it’s not right to think that it’s only you. Every person in this house, or even in the entire world, has something they want to accomplish. Dreams, goals and all of that. Maybe some of them don’t know it yet, they’re lost but that’s what life is for. To let them figure it out. 

“That’s very nice of you.” he says, surprising you how serious and soft he sounds at the same time.

“But what about you? What is your life story?” you ask, wanting to change the topic because your life being discussed when you’ve had a few shots isn’t a good idea. Few more and you’d be probably bawling your eyes out just because you get emotional easily, especially if alcohol is involved.

“It doesn’t matter,” he chuckles, “It’s not interesting anyway.”

You don’t hide the disappointment that settles on your face, causing your lips to pout which makes him scrunch his nose cutely. What a shame, you really wanted to get to know him more. It’s like he’s putting distance between you two, keeping a safe distance but still wanting to be in your presence. He’s confusing you.

“But I told you mine.” you pout, mumbling under your breath like a child that just lost a game.

It’s comical, how you’re dressed in a sexy nurse costume and pouting just because you’re dissapointed. For the first time since being here, he feels unsure and actually stops for a second as you see his eyes dance between yours.

“My parents are dead. And I wish I could’ve made them proud like you’re making your dad.” he says, completely serious as you gape at him with an open mouth.

Is he serious? You don’t know him, his reactions are mysterious and despite him talking about his dead parents, he looks too serious and doesn’t show any sadness.

“I-I’m s--“

“Don’t,” he stops you, voice rough as he coughs and tries to mask his all of a sudden unfriendly tone.

It makes you speechless and actually bad for pressuring him into telling you more. Although, you’re not sure if that can be called pressuring.

“It’s been a long time since they’re not here. I’ve had time to process it.” he explains, hand brushing through his golden locks while you watch them bounce right back into its place.

You don’t ask how long they’re dead, or anything about them because it’s not your place to be curious about that. If you knew sooner about them not being alive, you wouldn’t even show him how disappointed you were of not hearing his shortened version of life story.

All you can give him is a slight nod, awkwardly glancing at your heels that, of course are borrowed from Yeri. Remembering that there's still almost a full bottle of soju that you snatched for yourself behind you, you turn around and pour yourself a shot as you glance at Jimin. He's staring at you, attentively paying attention to your face, as you give him a crooked smile.

“You want some?” 

“No.” he answers, causing you to shrug as you drink the shot in one go, weirded out by the expression he gives you. It almost looks like he's glaring at you for drinking and it makes you give him a dumbfounded look.

“Aren't you thirsty?” you ask, his jaw clenching before he allows himself to relax and a low chuckle comes out of his mouth. 

“You've no idea,” he grins, taking a step closer to you as he hovers over you, cornering you while your lower back digs into the kitchen counter. 

Your eyes are big, staring at him in a complete shock by his sudden move but you can't move away. Your whole body is frozen, staring into his red eyes that stare right back into yours as if he's looking for something in them. His own hands lean against the kitchen counter right beside your waist, almost touching you while your heart trembles with excitement. And then when you think it can't get worse, he actually leans his face closer to yours as he takes a sniff of you. He hums at your scent, your cheeks flaring both in embarrassment and praise, mentally clapping yourself on the shoulder for choosing that expensive Yves Saint Laurent perfume you got from Yeri last Christmas. You've always saved it for special occasions, and even though you don't think of this party as anything special, you're glad you've listened to your own guts and used it. Let's just ignore the fact that you used it because you were counting on sweating, knowing the strong perfume will make you smell amazing either way. 

He pulls slightly back, your noses almost touching as you can smell his own cologne, mixed with something that smells like mint. You don't even blink, not allowing yourself to budge as he gives you a tiny smirk. 

“I'm particularly thirsty for something else.” he tells you silently, his voice getting a few octaves deeper but yet sounding calm and soft.

Your breath gets caught in your throat, the huge lump there almost uncomfortable, as you stare at him with still the same shock. Gulping, you blink a few times as you wonder what the hell just happened. 

You should be mad because after all, he lied to you. He told you he's not here for sex, yet he implied something erotic and suggestive with a simple sentence that rolled off his tongue so easily and elegantly, but that's not the worst part. The worst part – that you're not proud of – is that you like it and you can feel yourself pressing your thighs together. This had never happened before. No guy could made your body hot without even touching you, and you wouldn't be so thirsty too for someone you only know by their first name. 

“I thought you didn't come here for sex.” you manage to speak up, successfully without stuttering or sounding too nervous, although confusion and the slightest tremble in your voice is audible even to you. 

“I didn't,” he confirms, nodding but not moving an inch from you. Without taking your eyes off him, you slowly blink as you watch him lick his lips. “But you look irresistible to my eyes.” he says simply, slowly reaching for the strand of your hair as he twirls it around his index finger. 

He's not touching you fully, and unfortunately you can't quite feel his touch through your hair because even now, he delicately touches your hair like you're a fragile doll that may break.

“Then, why don't you do something?” you surprise yourself, not believing something like that just left your mouth. You would never say something like this to a stranger, no matter how handsome and freaking hot he is. But this is Jimin, it seems like everything is different with him. 

And he laughs. He actually laughs like you've just told him a funny joke, and all you can do is stare at him like he just lost his mind. Is he just playing with you? Was he testing you? Before your crazy thoughts and theories could swarm your already confused mind, something else catches your attention that makes a prominent frown adorn your features. This doesn't get unnoticed by Jimin, his laughter dying down as he realizes where your eyes and attention are focused onto. 

There are no longer any fangs poking out of his mouth, and you watch something flicker behind those red orbs that seem to glow in the gloomy lightning.

“What do you want me to do?” he asks, ignoring your look of confusion and curiosity that still lingers in your eyes that don't look away from his mouth just yet. 

“Where are your--”

“Took them off,” he cuts you off, letting go of your hair. “Now, be a good girl and answer my question.” he hums, inching closer to you as you hold your breath. 

“What do you want to do?” you ask instead, getting a breathy chuckle from him. You're not sure whether it's because of your question or because you purposely avoided answering his. 

“You wouldn't wanna know,” he chuckles, eyes dropping down to your lips that are already nibbling on your bottom lip. “It'll bleed if you keep bitting on it.” he comments, licking his own. 

“What, are you scared of blood?” you joke, releasing your mouth that seemed to get his attention, before the mention of blood causes him to snap those red eyes to yours. 

“Not in the slightest,” he smirks, for whatever reason but it shoots butterflies straight to your stomach. “Are you?” he cocks his head to the side, reminding you of a snake that eyes its prey. Or some predator that has some fun with its prey before they kill it. 

Fuck, you shouldn't have watched that horror movie Yeri suggested yesterday. 

“Of what? Blood or you?” you find the courage to ask, raising a brow at him as you eye his from up and down. 

He smirks, cocking his brow at you. “You tell me. Are you scared of me?”

Maybe you should be. No one has ever approached you, talked to you or given you this kind of attention before. This is a completely new territory that you're tiptoeing around, and it does give you some kind of thrill. Maybe it's because your life is boring and Jimin summons a new temptation that you've never felt before. There could be hundreds of reasons why you feel this way or what you should feel instead, but you can't bother yourself to think about it any longer. Because instead of feeling any fear towards the new stranger that has angelic features and voice, and with some kind of darkness that he's hiding, you feel yourself getting more interested and temped. In this case, he's like a forbidden fruit for you. 

“No,” you reply confidently, head held high as you grin. “Should I be?” 

This constant teasing and the lack of touch just sets a flame of temptation inside you that slowly drives you insane. 

“Maybe,” he says, tips of his fingers reaching for your dress as he plays with the hem of it, fingers dancing dangerously at the top of your breasts. “You're the one who's gripping the kitchen counter for your dear life.” he teases, your eyes shooting to your hands that in fact, are gripping the corner so tightly that they turn white. 

Embarrassingly, you let it go as you cross your hands over the chest to make yourself appear more confident, trying to mask the way your heart thumps loudly against your chest.

“That doesn't mean I'm scared.” you tell him, indirectly suggesting that there may be another reason why you appear to be so tense. 

Judging by the tiny and already known smirk that slowly stretches across those beautiful and thick lips, Jimin confirms that he knew way before you even said it out loud. No matter how many times you seem to outrun him, he's always two steps ahead of you, having a prepared answer. 

“What it could mean, then?” he asks lowly, feigning an incomprehensibility that this time – you see and are prepared for.

“Many things.” you gulp, breath hitching when the tip of his finger slightly touches your skin. It's short-lived and almost unrecognizable, but it still makes you shiver over the fact he's so close touching the top of your breasts. 

In other scenarios, you wouldn't let anyone this near to you, nor someone almost touching your breasts that are covered in a costume dress.

“Care to share, my love?”

The new petname shoots excitement straight to your body, your cheeks flaring pink as you look away from him for a moment. You know he's aware of your reaction and how that little petname affected you, but you remain confident as you stare right back at him. 

“I think you get the idea.”

In no way in hell, you'd ever tell him how much you wish to be fucked by him. Those sinful thoughts have to stay in your head, and even if you're not saying them loud like he wants you to, you know he's smart enough to get the idea. 

“Tell me.” he presses, fingers playing with the top buttons of your costume that you can't unfortunately feel that much, except the tiny pressure he puts on them by playing with it. 

“Jimin...” you whine, causing him to grin cheekily at you. For a moment, it looks like he lost that dark and mysterious aura. “Why won't you kiss me?”

You're done playing this game, your patience is slowly dying as you wish to feel his lips against yours. Even just for a second.

“Because you never asked me to,” he answers simply, surprising you by his diplomatic answer that sounds nothing but truthful. 

“If I ask you to,” Oh fuck, this is embarrassing. He's doing this purposely, he wants you to make the first move. You feel like his goal is to make you desperate for him, which he didn't have to do for long. You don't get it. 

“Will you kiss me?” you ask quietly, eyes searching his once again. 

“Mhm,” he confirms. “If that's what you want.” 

First of all, you're surprised that he's more interested in your own interest and consent, instead to taking the first chance of your attention and weakness for himself. And there's a chance that you were wrong. Maybe he hadn't been doing this to push you to make the first move, or to enjoy how you're squirming underneath his hovering figure. All he wanted this whole time has been your consent. Second of all, it makes him fucking attractive for doing so and no matter what the real reason is, you're willing to risk it all for this man. 

“Jimin,” you tell him, voice strained and raspy. “Kiss me.”

For all you know, he could be playing with you this whole time and he doesn't have to be interested in you. Again, Jimin proves you that you're wrong and manages to surprise you all over again when in seconds, he pulls you closer to him and presses your lips together. Jimin seeks your lips hungrily, surprising you how rough and fast he is as if he was controlling himself this whole time. His hand is holding your head from the back for support, while the other one grabs your hip and squeezes it. Gasping, you shiver at the feeling of his tongue dancing across your bottom lip before he envelopes your mouth again. Your tongues move together, your own hands gripping his biceps that are hidden beneath his leather jacket. Jimin has a boosted energy, barely allowing you to breathe between the hungered kisses he's showering you with, and when you start desperately trying to catch your breath, you're forced to press against his chest firmly. It's hard, much harder than you've imagined and it takes an extra strength to actually make him budge, which primarily is the soft whimper that you let out against his mouth. He moves away, almost jumping away from you as he stares at you all frozen. 

He watches your chest move quickly, trying to catch the oxygen that your lungs are craving for. You put your own hand over your chest, chuckling when you feel your heart beating fast and hard. 

A group of drunk people stumble inside the kitchen, catching your attention as they laugh loudly, unable to walk properly as they're reaching for other bottles that are placed on the kitchen island. You weren't here alone this whole time, there are still a couple of people making out or talking, probably searching for somewhere more peaceful than the living room where the most people are. Considering this fact that someone might've seen you sucking off each other's faces, it doesn't bother you and it's probably mainly the fact they probably hadn't even noticed. 

The sudden drop of soju bottle that breaks instantly and stains the floor snaps you out of your thoughts, your gaze shifting to the drunk girl who starts giggling over the fact she's too drunk and clumsy to the point she just dropped a bottle. Now, there's soju smell lingering in the air and staining the floor with shards of glass laying there.

Turning to Jimin, you catch the sudden scrunch of his nose at the smell of alcohol which makes you giggle, even though you find it not so pleasing either. Taking a few steps towards him, you grab him by his wrist and drag him deeper into the house. Surprisingly, he allows you to drag him as he stares at the back of your head until you stop and push the door open. You're quick to turn the lock, making sure there's no one disturbing you as he finally notices where you brought him. The bathroom is decorated in deep blue, the same gloomy lightning that comes from the round mirror and creates a much more dark and intimate atmosphere. Standing in the safe distance, he watches you turn around to him and lean against the small counter where the sink is. 

His eyes turn dark, the red color almost unrecognizable as he keeps staring at you without making any move. Throwing out your insecurity, because this in fact is your first bold move that you've made on someone, you don't let it disturb you from your plan. Your palms sprawled against the bathroom counter, ass digging into the edge of it, you straighten yourself and cross your exposed legs. 

“Are you gonna just stand there and stare at me?” you ask, one hand flicking your hair over your shoulder which catches most of Jimin's attention and his eyes get big. The exposure of your nakedness, the vein that pokes beneath your beautiful and warm skin makes him react instantly. 

You yelp when he's suddenly in front of you, using the lack of your attention and the second of you closing your eyes to blink, he's gripping your face before he attacks your lips with his own, kissing you hungrily that he did the first time. Only this time, you're ready for the strength and intensity of his kisses, awaiting for his tongue that darts out into your mouth. You grip his jacket, trying to take it off but it's impossible with him holding you so close. Tugging onto the leather material, he gets your message and strips it off, tossing it carelessly onto the dirty floor. Your palms spread over his chest, feeling his hardened muscles that are surprisingly too hard. In an instant, you're turned around, hands gripping the sink as you feel Jimin's hands on your thighs, slowly disappearing underneath the skirt of your dress. You shiver, his hands cold against your heated skin as you look back at him as much as your current position allows you to.

Unfortunately, you get only a brief glance at Jimin who turns you around rather aggressively. From this position, you can barely see him in the reflection of the mirror but as he looks up, you're met with his red eyes that stare at you back. 

“What do you want?” he asks lowly, hands slowly caressing your ass cheeks that aren't covered by your panties, his nails grazing over the soft flesh. 

Thank God, you chose to wear sexy underwear – the only sexy underwear you own.

“You,” you breathe out, telling him the obvious answer that he probably just wanted to hear. “You.. Jimin.”

You hear his low hum before your panties are pushed aside and dress hiked up, enough to let his fingers replace the lacy material. As soon as the tip of his cold fingers meet your heat that's coated with your slickness, your breath hitches. He starts rubbing the area, making sure he does the same thing to your clit before he pushes two fingers in. You gasp, not expecting him to enter you all of a sudden, especially with two fingers that stretch you deliciously. It slightly burns, but your arousal that's used as a lube helps a lot and it makes it easier for him to get in. 

Jimin's surprised by your tightness, wondering when was the last time someone touched you while his red eyes flicker to your reflection to check your reaction. He's a monster, he shouldn't care if he's being too rough with you but for some reason he's curious to see how you react to his touch. A cocky smirk flickers on his lips when he sees your eyes closed and mouth open in delight. 

“You like that?” he whispers, mouth hovering over your ear as he takes another sniff of you. Do you really smell that good?

He presses his thumb against your clit, circling it when he feels you clenching around and that's why he adds another finger. You gasp, mumbling something incorrect to both your and his ears. Again, he just smirks at your lack of response and how fucked out you already seem to be. He barely had to do anything. 

Pulling your hips to him, he makes you arch for him with your ass pursed up almost dangerously close to his crotch. 

Fucking you with his fingers, he has no mercy on you and your loud pleas of slowing down. He doesn't know you, but it feels like he reads all the signs your body gives him and with you clenching around his three fingers, being a mess that barely stands on her own feet, he knows you're close. The pleasure gets too much, his palms slapping against your clit as he keeps fucking you is nothing you are prepared for. The orgasm and the chase after it gets too intense, no longer in your hands and with you being able to control it, you're cumming around his fingers, sucking them right in. He slows down, but still keeps a sloppy pace that fucks you through it. Your whole body burns with tingles of post-orgasm and if it weren't for your hands desperately clutching onto the sink, and Jimin's body behind you caging you in, you'd probably fall like a potato sack.

He pulls out his fingers, sounds of slurping leaving his mouth as he cleans them. Unfortunately for you, you've missed that devilish sight of him doing it. You pry your eyes open, slowly straightening yourself as you turn around to check the devil himself.

Just as expected, he's smirking at you, proudly staring at your flushed cheeks and the quick rise of your chest. You surprise him, clutching his shirt between your fingers before you pull him closer and connect your lips together. He lets you kiss him, hands wrapping around his neck and finally feeling up his skin more properly. You're surprised how cold he is, yet no hint of goosebumps cover his skin.

“You're so cold,” you comment, rubbing your hands over his forearms trying to warm him up.

Glancing back at him, you're surprised by the dumbfounded look he gives you before his mouth quirks up. “You wanna warm me up?” he asks, cocking his brow at you as your mouth salivates, your hands completely stopping.

“Yeah,” you answer, no idea why the fuck would you even answer that when you should just put yourself to action. The little act makes him chuckle, leaning closer to you as you hear him gulp.

You think he's about to kiss you, his lips close to the crook of your neck and you tilt your head to the side, to give him a better room for that. However, you're surprised when his mouth never makes an actual contact with your neck. You slightly tilt back, staring at his frozen state as you see his throat bob. 

“Jimin?” you ask, growing worried when he seems to be acting weird all of a sudden. “Are you okay?”

Your voice is muffled to his ears, he barely hears you as all he can focus is the way your blood pulses in your veins and the soft heartbeat of your heart. But you don't know that, all you can see is Jimin standing there gulping and not moving at all. It's until your hand makes contact with his cheek, your warm palm ready to envelop it but before you can even properly touch his skin, he's gripping your wrist at an extreme speed. You stare at him, almost jumping back from the sudden movement. 

“You scared me,” you chuckle, trying to ease the tension as he takes a step back. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he answers nonchalantly, staring at you with those red eyes. “Now be a good girl and suck my cock.”

Your eyes almost bulge out of their sockets, surprised by the sudden change in his behavior and tone. He starts unbuckling his belt, your mouth salivating at the thought you're about to see his cock. It's been awhile since you gave a proper blowjob and although, you're not quite satisfied with your skills of giving one in the first place, you just can't wait to taste him. 

If Yeri could see you right now, she'd never believe that it's the same best friend that has always been opposed to one night stands.

Dropping onto your knees, your face is facing his growing bulge as you look up at him for permission. He chuckles, licking his bottom lip as he nods his head at you, silently telling you to get to it already. You put his jeans down, not entirely just enough to expose his casual black boxer briefs, as they stay wrapped around his mid-thighs. His boxer briefs are next, your fingers too eager to see him rather than to tease and play with him. Something tells you that Jimin is not the type to enjoy teasing. His erection spreads free, finally out of the material of his tight jeans, and it slaps against his clothed stomach that's hidden beneath the white shirt. 

You wish there was a better lightning and for a second, you contemplate whether to turn the main light on, just to fully appreciate his erected length. No matter what the lightning is, you notice how thick he is and a few veins that poke underneath the thin skin. From the light patch of hair to the red tip that's leaking with a little bit of pre-cum makes your mouth salivate like never before, and you make sure you gulp all of it before you can embarrass yourself. Not wasting any time, your hand curls around the base as you give him a testing squeeze which surprisingly, makes him barely react and when you glance up at him, he stares at you with dark eyes. 

Little do you know he needs your touch, he needs to distract himself from the thirst and hunger, and that dark voice inside his head that tells him to do something completely different, rather than have you on your knees and ready to take him.

As if you could hear his thoughts – which you can't and he knows that – he almost sighs in relief when you wrap your pretty red lips around his tip. It doesn't matter that your lipstick is completely smeared from Jimin's lips and his furious kisses. Sucking on it, you let the angry red tip glisten with your saliva before you start pumping him. Through hooded eyes, Jimin watches you licking a strip up his cock as you go back to sucking him off while pumping his hardened length, this time harder and quicker. Jimin's low grunts that occasionally leave his mouth encourages you to take him deeper, the tip of his cock almost hitting the back of your throat. Your eyes burn with tears but you blink them away, curling your tongue around the head of Jimin's cock. His hand grabs the back of your head, clutching your hair in his fist as he starts moving his hips. It hurts a little, he's putting too much pressure and strength into grabbing your hair and the roots that burn your skull. But with your own arousal between your legs, slowly dripping down your thighs and the undying lust that you feel towards Jimin, you've no time to complain. It adds another pinch of pleasure, a pleasure that makes you moan around his length and almost gag when he thrusts into your mouth. Surprisingly, you look up and you find him checking your reaction.

Your warm hand around his cock and even warmer mouth that's wrapped around him feels surprisingly nicer than he thought it'd be. He takes his time to notice your reddened cheeks that he can see even from up, and with the dim lightning his red eyes catch the line of saliva that's drooling out of your mouth. And he growls, he actually growls and pulls you from his cock in seconds, before he's pulling you up and if it weren't for his strong hold, you'd surely stumble how quick he got you up. He backs you into the bathroom counter, to your previous position before he fingered you, but this time you're face to face. Your ass is digging into the edge of the counter, although you don't seem to care. You're too focused staring at Jimin that clenches his jaw, suddenly bumping into you as he starts kissing you. Whimpering into his mouth, you're surprised when he easily lifts you up and gets you seated on the bathroom counter. However your yelp is muffled by his mouth, his hands pulling you close to the edge, dangerously close that you're clutching onto him, scared of a possible fall. But Jimin got you, his body is caging you and creates a barrier between you and the floor. 

Jimin's hand wrapped around his erected cock looks sinful, like nothing you've ever seen before, at least no one made it look so effortlessly hot. Your body almost trembles with the anticipation of feeling him inside of you, and you know it's coming because he starts pumping himself. Not even aware that you stretch your legs to give him a better space, plus giving him a view of the mess between your legs. He pulls you closer, nudging your thighs apart even more before his other hand moves your ruined panties more to the side. He gets a better view of your pulsating heat that's waiting just for him.

“What about a condom?” 

He stops, eyes flickering to yours as he stares at you with unreadable recognition. It's enough that you're about to have sex with some stranger, even though it's very hot and irresistible stranger, but you don't know him after all. Are you ready to risk it for him? The rational you mentally praises you for remembering such important detail before it could've been too late. 

“Don't have one,” he says through teeth, almost seeming to be annoyed that you stopped him.

Maybe you should grow offended or annoyed yourself by his reaction, but for some reason you don't. You just stare and wait for him to say something else. 

“You don't trust me?” There it is – the smirk comes back and makes an appearance on his thick lips again. 

“I don't know you.” you point out, cocking a brow at him.

“Yet, you're here sprawled for me ready to be fucked,” he chuckles lowly, your expression dropping as your eyes grow big. “I don't know you either, that's why we need to trust each other.” he says, but still doesn't move to do anything else. 

Your mind is screaming at you, telling you over and over again how a bad idea this is and that you'll regret it. There's no actual threat of disease of a potential pregnancy (even though, you've been taking birth control since your teenage years) but you don't know that. He can't exactly tell you without having to explain something that he doesn't even want to or has to explain.

“Hm? What's it gonna be?” he purrs, his hand cupping your jaw as he starts caressing your cheek with his thumb. “Are we gonna trust each other?”

In a way, you're aware he's coaxing you into agreeing and using your temptation by using his low and tempting tone, but you don't find yourself calling him out for it. You're speechless, not able to move your mouth and find your own voice, even though you're not sure what your answer is going to be. But then he's pulling away, taking your silence as an answer which kind of surprises you because you thought he really is coaxing you into agreeing. Before he can fully pull away, you wrap your legs around his frame and cage him. 

He opens his mouth staring at you as you can feel his hardened length touching the exposed skin of your thigh. 

“Fuck me, Jimin.” you tell him, meeting him in the middle as you both crash your lips together.

The kiss is heated, even more than ever before and you shiver when you feel his tip against your heat. He looks at you, checking one more time as you give him a nod before you crash your lips together again.

He needs you as his distraction but he's not an asshole to take you without your consent, or trying to control you.

With that, he pushes past your folds and enters you. You gasp, pressing your face into his shoulder as you bite onto him gently. He doesn't budge, not surprised by the feeling of your teeth dangerously poking him through the fabric of his shirt. He's pushing in, bottoming out before he's already pulling out just to thrust back in. Jimin has no patience, already getting to work as he starts fucking you. With each thrust, it gets easier to move inside of you as your cum and arousal helps him. You're surprised how good you're taking him, even though your walls do burn with the sudden penetration and the new feeling of his thick cock. Even the pace is going too fast, the top of his thighs slapping against the back of yours while his balls make contact with your ass. The bathroom is filled with sinful sounds of skin on skin slapping, and it coaxes you to clench around him repeatedly. You can't keep up with the animalistic and rustless pace he set, whimpering and moaning his name all over again with an occasional curse falling out of your lips. Jimin grunts are no longer silenced ones, although he seems to be controlling his voice much more.

“Fuck,” you moan, head tilting back as your hands are doing a poor job at trying to hold you in place. 

Jimin's hands are around your thighs, making sure your legs stay apart as he keeps fucking into you. You can feel sweat slowly dripping down your neck, even your ass getting sweaty from the contact of the bathroom counter.

“I'm--fuck, I'm close.” you gasp, clutching the edge even harder and before you can say something else, you're already cumming around him. “Ohhh, fuck, Jimin.” you moan out through your orgasm, his pace not slowing down even after you're done and gritting your teeth at the overstimulation.

His head falls into the crook of your neck, lips almost making contact with your skin as he starts shaking and grunting. You think he's close, that it's only a natural reaction of approaching orgasm and you're completely thrown back when he suddenly pulls away completely. His cock is out of you in a record time and as you blink, he's in the middle of the bathroom standing with his jeans and boxer briefs wrapped around his mid-thighs, along with still hardened cock that's coated with your cum. If the situation weren't so weird all of a sudden, you'd probably focus on the sight in front of you much more. 

You watch Jimin's features twist in an almost painful expression, his nose scrunching as his whole body shakes. It's nothing too drastic but just enough to notice by the way he's shivering and trying to control himself. He gulps a couple of times as well, seeming like he's in a pain. You've no idea what has just happened and you just stand there completely clueless, eyes big and mouth agape. 

“Are you okay?” you ask softly, wondering what the hell is wrong with him. 

You hop off the counter, ignoring how sensitive you're between your legs and how hard it feels like to be standing on your feet all of a sudden.

“Don't,” he warns you, voice raising as he outstretches his arm to keep you from coming closer. “Don't come any closer.” he says lowly, head held high as you can't see his face.

“What, why? What happened?” you ask worriedly, your eyes filled with worry and confusion at the same time. 

When you're about to take another step towards him, it's like he can sense it before you can even more your feet, his head snaps to you and he growls at you. 

“Fucking stay away.” he warns you again, almost yelling at you as you jump in fear.

The last thing he sees is your scared eyes before he focuses his gaze to the floor again. He can feel the veins starting to cracking up on his skin, showing what he really craves for. He can't let you see. With your heartbeat being the loudest melody in the room and your smell filling it too, he can't promise not to do something he doesn't want to. That was the whole purpose of tonight, the whole purpose of approaching you and talking to you. He has no idea what's happening to him and why can't he listen to what his mind is telling him to do. He's controlling himself and he knows if he stays any longer, you're not going to make it without any harm. 

And that's why he focuses his attention on something else, desperately listening to people slurring drunken nonsense and the loud music before something else catches his attention. It's not too much, just the only thing that helps with not focusing on your smell entirely. It's something no one else can hear, the whimpers and slurping sounds that could only mean one thing. 

You notice how he zones out, your hands pulling your dress down to have at least some kind of modesty as you eye the stranger in front of you. 

“J--”

His eyes snap to yours as he turns around. “You need to leave.”

“I-- what?” you blurt out, seeing him tucking himself back into the jeans. You ignore the feeling of disappointment that clouds your mind for a whole second, before you're back to confusingly staring at him. 

“I don't know wha--”

Taking two long steps, he's right in front of you before he grips your face tightly into his hands. You whimper at the strength staring into his dark orbs that shine like never before. 

“Get your friend and leave. You've to leave, right now.” 

The firmness in his voice doesn't go unnoticed by you, however it gets somewhere in the back of your mind as you stare at Jimin with big eyes. Painfully for you, he lets you go as he starts backing away from you but there's nothing you can do. You can't bring yourself to move, nor rush after him when he flicks the lock open and walks out of the bathroom. You stand there, your mind suddenly snapping into action as the only thing you can think about is getting Yeri. 

When Jimin makes it through the crowd, successfully hiding and blending with his surroundings, he stops and makes sure he has a great view of you walking out of the bathroom. He's watching you from the safe distance, seeing you trying to find your friend that seems to be nowhere in sight. When desperation is evident on your face since you've checked every room downstairs and you still can't find her, your legs lead you upstairs. He wishes he'd tell you to go alone, the longer you're staying... no, he doesn't care. 

His mind drifts away to the moment in the bathroom, where his long canines started growing and all he could think about was sinking them to your delicious neck.

He can hear your faint heartbeat but he doesn't allow himself to get closer, not even if you're already upstairs opening every door of each room to find your friend. And when he sees Taehyung with a satisfied grin and blood dripping down his chin nearing him, it makes Jimin think only one thing. None of these people are aware of the liquid dripping down his friend's chin, thinking that it's just another fake blood even if Jimin can smell the metal scent from miles away.

You're growing annoyed when the third room you open, there's still no sight of Yeri but some drunk couples having sex or smoking weed. You scrunch your nose in disgust, wondering if these people don't know what locks are. As you're nearing another room, you just hope there are no naked people and any possible butts that you'll be seeing before you take the doorknob into your hands. 

But nothing could ever prepare you for the sight behind that door. 

The room is dark, the street lights create at least some kind of lightning but you still decide to turn up the lights. It happens in seconds. The first thing you recognize is the costume, the same one she proudly showed you this morning saying she'll be the hottest Black Widow. You stare at the horrific sight of the face of your friend which is almost unrecognizable. Her lifeless body is laying on a bed, blood trickling down her neck and staining beige sheets underneath her. Your piercing scream rings in your ears but you can't stop screaming from the horror sight in front of you. 

Jimin hears your screams, his eyes shifting towards the house as he starts the engine. 

“You killed her?” he asks, voice low as he starts the engine. 

“Y'know how I get,” Taehyung chuckles, wiping the remains of blood from his chin and mouth. “I was hungry.” 

Jimin grips the steering wheel tightly, stealing a last glance at the house and the party that slowly turns into chaos. That's why they never come back. They can't and he should've known his longtime friend would get one of his moods. Taehyung is crazy, much more dangerous than Jimin because he gets so into his own needs. 

“You didn't have to kill her.” Jimin points out, leaving the driveway while the house keeps getting further and further.

“I didn't have to, you're right. But I did,” he sighs pleasingly, patting his stomach as he makes himself comfortable in the passenger seat. “And she tasted fucking great.”

Jimin's jaw flexes, slowly growing irritated by his friend's decision to end someone's life again. He should've gotten used to it by now, but he can't never really process it. It's even weirder now that he knows that someone wasn't just someone. It was your best friend. 

And that night, almost everyone who attended that party had some regrets. And you've got many of them. 

You wish you'd pay more attention to Jimin. 

Like, how his eyes kept changing color. How cold his skin was, too unrealistically to be natural. Or one second, he flashed you with his sharp canines and the next one he didn't have any. How much he craved for you, but not the way you thought he was.

If you just paid attention, maybe your friend would be still alive. And maybe you'd be in her place and would never make it out alive, if it weren't for the stranger with red dark orbs that hunts you every night.

[leonicscorpio]

Y'all, I'm so excited for Gotham Knights.

Both as a batman and bat family fan. This game is looking to offer a lot in terms of both gameplay and add an extreme amount of story. I especially am excited to see what they end up doing with Jason.

Right off the bat (lol) I love his design. They show that he's large and imposing. Physically intimidating. As well as bringing back his white streak with a clean short haircut and s scar that extends from his mouth all the way up his head. His design is just *chefs kiss*

However upon looking at his promotional information I was immediately grabbed by his bio. They mention something very specific about this universe's Jason that is very unique and peculiar.

The top text pretty much establishes what is already canon and what we know about Jason to be true. The death, Lazarus Pit, his anger, etc. This also poses the fact that we will probably see a Jason in-game that is very volitile and easy to anger. (That's hot) but what's most interesting is the bottom text. "After reconciling with the Batman Family, he's embraced Batman's non-lethal combat methods" what's so striking to me is that Jason and Bruce seemingly made up prior to the events of Bruce's death. As Jason got the message of Bruce's death, and as seen in the image prior (the one with Jason's face) we see Jason is visibly hurt and shocked. He's taken aback by the announcement. While I think any iteration of Jason (Pre-New 52 straight up-villain Jason or New 52 Anti-Hero who is half trying to get Bruce to love him, half telling Bruce to fuck off) would be shocked of Bruce's death announcement. We get to see Jason's reaction first and foremost and it's very personal and emotional. This brings up a point that's been bugging me ever since I saw the announcement of Gotham Knights.

What happened to Jason that made him reconcile with Bruce?

This post is speculation as to what I think may have happened to Jason to cause him to turn around and be welcomed back into the Bat Family.

I think that the events of Under The Red Hood still happen but either Bruce or Jason kill the Joker.

It's a stretch. But hear me out. We know the most defining moment in Bruce's and Jason's joint story is the confrontation between Bruce and Jason over the Joker and Jason trying to force Bruce to kill the Joker.

Bruce decides he cannot kill the Joker. Now the movie and the comic differs on how they handle the ending. In the comics, right as Jason is about to pull the trigger, Bruce reacts and throws a Batarang at Jason. Slicing him in the neck. Severely injuring him but not killing him. In the Under the Red Hood movie, Bruce, when faced with the option of having to chose between killing the Joker and just letting Jason kill him. Bruce turns and walks away. He readies a Batarang because he predicts (correctly) that Jason will retaliate out of confusion because he sees Bruce as rejecting him again. Not understanding that Bruce is simply chosing not to be involved in the situation.

I think Jason turning around to Bruce could happen most likely because the events of Under the Red Hood transpired differently. We know Joker still exists in this universe because Jason's death and resurrection is implied to be the same. But we also know that Barbara Gordon's paralysis during the events of The Killing Joke are still canon in this universe.

What if this universe follows the canon of the movie in that when Bruce turned away from Jason, either Bruce verbalized to Jason that he doesn't care what happens to the Joker, right now, he's chosing Jason, and although he doesn't want Jason to kill the Joker, he's letting Jason decide.

What if Bruce still throws a Batarang at Jason and instead of staying still, Jason brings the joker up and uses him as a shield? Killing the Joker or severely injuring him as a muscle reaction to protect himself from the Batarang. We know that the reason why Jason is so antagonistic towards Bruce is because Bruce didn't kill the Joker and let him continue to kill and injure people after Jason's death. And that inaction is directly what happens

The WB Montreal team (the team making Arkham Knights) hasn't confirmed if The Joker is in thw game. We know the confirmed villains are The Court of Owls and Mister Freeze. With Two Face being hinted at through promotional material. But there is no direct references that The Joker will be in the game.

I may be looking too deep into this. Jason may have just turned around as a result of Bruce's demise. But I like to think of the potential character interactions we could see in Gotham Knights. I want to see a Jason that has properly reconciled with Bruce and is trying to make amends. Only for him to lose Bruce and run the risk of falling back on bad habits. Is Jason still antagonistic towards Dick and Tim even if Bruce accepts Jason as The Red Hood and is able to help reform him? Is Jason still the bitter, almost acidiccly snarky and biting character his in Scott Lobdell's characterization of Jason if he reconciles with Bruce? Does he still call Tim "replacement" and such if he's accepted and recognized and given the support he needs? How does the rest of the family react to Jason? Are they apprehensive?

There's so much to look forward to with Gotham Knights and I'd love to know what other people think. With an exciting new take on Jason's character (as well as being able to play as Jason in an RPG based setting) we get to have an extremely diverse cast. All of the Robins are played by Asian American voice actors and Barbara is played by a Latin-American voice actress. Stephen Oyoung is a fantastic casting for Jason because he already has a lot of exposure as a VA who plays villains. Christopher Sean is going to bring so much fun as Dick (for those who don't know he voiced Kazuda Xiono in Star Wars Resistance and Ludwig in Epic 7) America Young is the current voice of BARBIE and is also going to bring so much to the role of Barbara Gordon. And while Sloane Morgan Siegal is the new face of the bunch, from what we saw from the promo he's bringing a great new take on Tim Drake that's going to be refreshing and exciting.

Let me know you're thoughts!

[ohallthecrushes]

Wherever you go I’ll find you //Joker x Reader // part 2

A/N: This was in my drafts for a week I think. I haven’t posted it sooner, cause I couldn’t find a good way to end this part and again I ended it with cliffhanger. Damn, I’m sorry. xD Part one is HERE for those interested in this story. Enjoy. :)

@call-me-harley-quinn​

Summary: Arthur is so ingrained in his Joker persona, he forgets that his S/O has only seen Arthur. Not knowing him anymore, she runs. When Joker realizes this, he is devastated and does everything he can to find her. After days of searching, he finds her and takes her back. She is scared out of her mind, but it ends up being a beautiful reconciliation.

Contains: mention of blood, physical fight

Word count: 1420

You turned your head to look directly at it, and you couldn’t tell what exactly were you looking at.

- Arthur, what... What the hell is this?

He looked the same way as you and chuckled.

- That’s Randall - he said as if it was the most obvious thing.

When he saw your confusion, he pointed to his head, his index finger tapping his temple.

- I had to beat out of his stupid head the idea of me being his boy.

His chuckles turned into a short laughter, a kind of laugh you hadn’t heard from him before. A madman laugh.

You shook your head, still confused.

- Is this a joke? That’s a red paint on the wall, isn’t it?

He nodded his head at your first question and shook at the second.

- So this is a joke and it’s not a red paint? - you asked confused and disturbed, glancing back at the wall. The splash was huge and it looked like someone had killed somebody here. What the hell was that?

- Hey, Kitten... - he started, placing a hand on your cheek and turning your head away from the wall - There’s a lot for you to catch on, but can we leave it for another time? I really missed you and-

- No - you objected shaking your head and standing up, you felt like you were starting to panic, there was something very wrong, you could feel it in your bones - Explain that to me, please. What is this? - you pointed at the red splash, your voice raised and your hand shaking - How’s that Randall? And what happened at Murray’s that you don’t want me to see? What exactly are you right now? What’s this new persona? How were you reborn? I haven’t been here for a week and now I’m home everything seems to be different. You are different. And why didn’t you answer my calls? You didn’t call me for three days! Three fucking days!

He was looking at your outburst with his hands trying to catch yours to comfort you, but you shook them off, causing him to furrowed his brows in bafflement. He didn’t realize that you hadn’t talked for three days, he really didn’t. Everything had been melting into one moment, he hadn’t been aware of the time passing by.

He watched you with a concerning look on his face. As Arthur, he would start to panic as well, seeing you being so upset with him, it would make him want to comfort you and apologize to you as soon as possible. He wouldn’t let you just be upset on your own. He would have to take care of your emotions first, putting his own aside.

But as Joker, he was... irritated. Still worried about your well being, but he wasn’t in any rush to apologize to you or comfort you. He had made his one attempt and you’d rejected his hands, so he wouldn’t try again. Not until you would be calmer.

- What this is all about, Arthur?

Arthur... I’m not him.

- Joker, babe - he corrected you with a soft but firm voice - I’m Joker now... - his words sounded like they were supposed to explain you most of the things and he seemed to be proud of his new name. He thought that his new name was the best way to start with.

After all, he couldn’t wait until he introduced himself to you.

You blinked at him with a clear confusion visible on your face. His words didn’t ring a single bell in your head.

- I’ve worked hard on my new image and I think I’m pretty good looking now, don’tcha think? - he raised his arms to the sides and smiled - People of Gotham’s already loved my image.

- What people? - you asked being more and more concern about your boyfriend, but also seriously angry. Not only he looked different, he acted different. You did not recognize your Arthur anymore.

- Definitely not Randall - he joked as he laughed with this mad laughter that he had done before and you took a step back, feeling more and more scared.

You glanced at the splash of blood on the wall and the ugly truth came to your mind.

- Y-you killed him? - you asked doubting your own judgment - you really killed him?

He looked at you lowering his head slightly, a dark grin appeared slowly on his face.

- Mmhhhmm - he nodded - he was a bad boy, he knew that that gun he gave me would put me into trouble. He came here to make sure that I’d be the only one to blame. Can you imagine that?

You slowly took another step back and he noticed that you were trying to distance yourself from him. He didn’t get why though. Were you scared because of the blood? Because of him?

- No, no, no... this... - you looked at him with tears in your eyes - This isn’t you...

- Y/N, c’mon, just let me explain... - he moved in your direction but you stepped aside, behind the table. He took a few steps and you did the same, walking around the table, facing each other, mirroring each other’s steps like some sort of dance.

But the piece of furniture wasn’t the only thing that created the distance between you now.

- Y/N... - he started again, warning you with his tone to stop and stay in place, but you didn’t want to and weren’t going to.

As you both made a full circle around the table and you had a clear way to the door, you commanded your legs to run over them as fast as you can.

- The door is locked, babe - you heard his slightly irritated voice behind you and his footsteps as he rushed to you.

You were grappling with the lock with shaking hands while he moved over you and you felt his hands on your waist grabbing you and pulling you away.

- No, let me go! - you yelled as you jerked from him, trying to free yourself. But he only tightened his grips and let out a low growl, dragging you further into the apartment.

He scared you by this even more, you’d never expected from him to use force on you. He’d never done this before. He’d been nothing but gentle and considerate with you ever since you’d met. But this... This was physical fighting, this was harmful and scary, and at this moment you realized you were dealing with a dangerous man.

- Y/N, please, just... try to- - he started as he tried to think of a way to calm you down with words, but he doubted you would even listen to him.

- Let go of me! - You cried out as your legs were up in the air and you started kicking in utter panic. Your feet mostly hit nothing as you weren’t even aware of what you were aiming at, just trying so desperately to free yourself. But one particular kick struck the spot between his legs and he let go of you, instantly placing his hands onto his aching balls, curling up into a ball.

You fell on the floor, landing on you knees. You felt bad for hurting him like that, but you couldn’t know if he wouldn’t hurt you if you didn’t try to escape from him. He killed Randall after all, there was a big fucking bloody spot on the wall showing what your boyfriend was capable of. You weren’t going to stay and see what else he could do.

As the tears started streaming down your face, you ran to the door like hell, out on the corridor, tripping over your feet and beating your personal best time at running over a short distance. You ran down the stairs and you almost fell a few times, trying to run faster than you physically could. You left the building and Joker behind but you didn’t stop there as you continued to run down the street, away and away. Far away from him. Whoever he was now. You didn’t know. He wasn’t your boyfriend anymore. He wasn’t Arthur. He wasn’t whom you had seen and kissed a week ago. He wasn’t the person you remembered and loved. He was... As he had told you so:

Joker.

A murderer.

[ajokeformur-ray]

You’re so beautiful it makes me wanna cry // Arthur + Joker //  fluffiest fluff.

Summary: You love Arthur/Joker so much that when it starts to become overwhelming, you cry. He doesn’t understand how he ever got so lucky, but he’s not about to question it.

Dedicated to @rebs-doom​ who will understand precisely why I chose to write this. I love you so much, dear! <3

Both scenarios contain implied NSFW at the end.

Arthur 

This one contains smoking.

Word count: 754.

Arthur was sat at the tiny desk in the corner of the apartment working on some new material in his worn journal. The lamps dotted strategically around the room gave him enough light as he worked, pen in one hand and a cigarette in the other. He heard the sound of the bedroom door open and automatically did he turn his entire body to face you head on. He was a lost ship at sea, his waters choppy and violent and you were the warm beacon of light offering safety and stability; powerless was he to ignore your presence in the room. 

He had put out the cigarette and was out of his chair so fast that he felt dizzy and had to stand still for just a second so that his mind and body could re-align with one another. Nothing was more important to him than you were, and you were crying. The world wouldn’t be right again, wouldn’t make sense again until you were smiling. 

Arthur had looked no further than your tears. As such, he didn’t see the huge face splitting smile on your face or the way that your heart was so full of love that your eyes were swimming with tangible evidence. It was this evidence, your tears, which greatly concerned him.

“Hey, hey!” Arthur reached you quickly and pulled you into his arms. He couldn’t see the huge smile on your face, so overwhelmed with worry and concern was he; his mind racing as he desperately thought back over the day. What was it that had upset you? 

When you giggled, Arthur stopped short. You were crying... you were smiling... you were laughing and oh, it was the sweetest. most melodious sound he had ever heard. He wanted to sink into your laughter, become one with the sound of your joy and never again be without it for even a moment. He was... confused. Yes. That was it. Were you trying to smile through your pain like he did? He hoped not. Cautiously did he decide that this was just another mystery in the world of you and he wanted to get to the bottom of it, he wanted to understand this small part of you so that, one puzzle piece at a time could he form a whole tapestry of you in his mind for safe keeping. So long as you were in his head, his heart and his soul, he would never be alone again. 

“What is it?” Arthur’s voice was soft, his tone gentle and patient as he focused on all of you. His level of attentiveness, the soothing way he was speaking to you, the way he was holding you... It was too much and a loud high pitched noise left your throat as you threw your hands over your face. So much love was in your system at that moment that you could only cry.

You put your hand on either side of Arthur’s face and his hands came up to cup your elbows. He was frozen in place by your beauty; not just your physical attributes, which had always been of little consequence to him, but the way that you seemed to hold magic within your very soul. You were an enchanting being, and like a siren at sea did you threaten to lure him into deeper waters from which he would never return alive. If it kept that look on your face then Arthur was content to drown.

“I love you so much.” Your voice cracked as yet more tears fell and Arthur’s throat convulsed with the imminent threat of a laughing fit.

“So why are you crying, sweet thing?” His dark brow furrowed and you moved a hand to smooth out the crease with a gentle finger.

You paused here, knowing that your next words carried more weight than you could ever know. One word could be a knife when spoken at the wrong moment and so you had to think carefully. After several tense seconds in which you and Arthur stared each other, you could only say, “You don’t know how beautiful you are. I love you so much I can barely speak.”

Arthur’s eyes glittered with mischief and the promise of a fun night as he said, his voice thick with amusement and pride, “You can’t tell me? Then show me.” You didn’t have to be clever to hear the pleading tone in his voice as he dipped his head to kiss you.

Oh, you would. You would.

Joker

Word count: 757.

You sat on the sofa utterly transfixed by the raw beauty in front of you.

Joker was lost in his head, as he so often was, and just at the point that you wondered if he had somehow become a statue, so still did he stand, did he begin to dance. With stilted but graceful movements did he raise one arm high above his head, his fingers gently curled around the air. The other arm lifted slower still, one leg becoming crooked but not leaving the ground as he danced to the music within his own mind.

“Oh~”, You cooed, “Look at you,” Your smile was so full of love, so full of awe, that tears came easily to your eyes. You couldn’t, wouldn’t, look away from Joker, and as he turned to the side did he spot you. His eyes roamed appreciatively over your curled up position on the sofa but when he saw the tears, everything came grinding to a halt.

Your tears had always scared him. It was wrong to see anything other than a smile on your face. Joker was unsure how to react. Usually when you cried, he held you. Stroked your hair. Kissed your forehead and murmured words of love to you. Right now were you crying, unguarded in your expression of emotion, but you were also smiling. He was stumped by your show of love; unable to see it for what it was in his confusion.

“What’s wrong?”

Joker’s voice was husky from the way he hadn’t spoken for almost an hour and unconsciously did your eyes flutter closed to enjoy the sound. You loved his voice, his eyes, his hands, the way he danced with no music playing because he didn’t need any music; it was inside him. You loved Joker and as you opened your eyes to see those oceans of green gazing at you with such obvious concern did your tears fall hotter and faster down your face.

“I love you,” You choked out. “I love you so much it hurts in the best way.”

Joker froze as he tried to understand what you meant. You had taught him in the early days of your relationship to think before he acted on his first impulse; to laugh because he didn’t know what else to do or how else to feel. Sometimes you spoke without fully thinking it through, and that meant that it was easy for your words to be misinterpreted; causing an unnecessary laughing fit in Arthur. He may have been Joker now, but those lessons were still ingrained in him. He fought desperately to understand and so closely were you watching him that you saw the exact moment he understood. Disbelief flashed across his face before his crow’s feet deepened as a smile slowly stretched across his painted mouth. It wasn’t just the paint which gave him the illusion of smiling almost ear to ear. No. You had caused that in Joker. You. It only made you cry harder to know that your love for him made him smile. It was all you had ever wanted for him.

“You’re crying because you love me?”

You nodded, laughing. You brushed your tears away pointlessly. More fell as you wiped your face, but you didn’t care. How could you, with such an ethereal creature coming to stand in front of you? Joker took your hands in his and pulled you up to standing, an arm curling around your waist to hold you there briefly while you found your balance. His hands moved to cup your face when you found your centre of gravity - he knew your body so well that he was able to read the visible signs quicker than you could -  and he leaned down to rest his forehead against yours, his fingers curling behind your ears.

“I will never understand why you’re so good to me.”

You thought back to the day that you had thought you had lost him forever and your residual fear prompted your next words before you could stop them, “It’s what you deserve.”

Joker chuckled darkly, the noise making a deliciously cold shiver drip down your spine, and kissed you soundly in appreciation for your comment. The fact that you were still with him after all that he had done would forever baffle him, but he wouldn’t question it. Indeed, if you couldn’t tell him just how much you loved him, you could show him instead. He had a feeling you would both enjoy that more, anyway.

The Arthur Fleck/Joker Defense Squad @writings-of-a-gen-z  @x-avantgarde-x  @mapreza1 @insomniabird  @mavalenovaninagavi  @itwasrealenough  @morrisonmercurymalek  @rand0ms-fand0ms  @rafaelina-casillas @aclownthing  @rebs-doom  @vivft  @help-i-am-obssessed@autumnaffection   @taintednihilist   @vladtoly   @mg-woolf99@misstgrey92  @that-s-life   @dopey-girl-blogs  @seeking-dreamland  @sweetheart-syndrome  @heartxfdesire  @xmusichealsthesoulx  @0callmejude0  @the-one-that-likes-riddles  @hannibalsslut  @folliaght  @freeeshavacadoo  @bingewatchingmylifegoby  @unlovedbyeveryoneandeverything  @okamiredfoxx  @sp0okysp0oky  @the-pandorabox  @mardema  @jibanyyan  @honeyflvredcoughdrop  @emissarydecksetter  @jokerfleckk  @epidendroideae  @chuuntas  @stillmabel  @pumpkinpeyes  @onehystericalqueenposts  @the-jokers-wolf  @nalsswa  @justahyena  @arianatheangelworld  @soullessblondbitch  @gothamslittlejester  @twentyonestarrynights  @sirianfromsixties  @kissmeclownman  @joker-is-my-hero  @lazyloosah  @lovesickkloxx  @ladylovelyluna  @live-love-loki  @clownerybbxx   @tragicarthur    @anmach123     @rommie-chan

[diyunho]

The Joker x Reader - “ What Death Tastes Like” Part 5

Scarecrow’s daughter might be only 22, yet the terminal lung cancer she was diagnosed with six months ago didn’t discriminate against her age; the young woman didn’t show worrisome symptoms until it was too late. Y/N always had a fascination for the much older King of Gotham and despite the consequences, maybe it’s finally time to do something about it.

Part 1    Part 2   Part 3     Part 4

The Joker feels his face covered in soft kisses and although generally speaking he loves being pampered, this particular instance awakens his self-defense mechanism.

“What time is it?” J mutters.

“Let me see,” you stretch for your phone. “12:03 am.”

“I should go,” he lifts his head up from the pillow and you pull him back in your arms, yawning.

“Stay for a little bit longer, ok?”

“Why?”

“I wish to hold on to my birthday present for a few more minutes,” Y/N pleads with the man she senses doesn’t want to be there anymore. “Don’t worry, I’m aware it was a casual affair,” your sad smile prompts a completely out of context answer:

“If you noticed I fell asleep, you should have woken me up!” The King of Gotham complains.

“I fell asleep also,” you snuggle to him and since J is suddenly quiet you whisper. “It was amazing.”

He keeps staring which makes you wonder what the hell is going on in his mind right now.

“At least for me,” you underline after you grasp he won’t comment on the subject; you didn’t have a clue he’ll convert the night you spent together into awkwardness for no reason. “Get out of my tent!” you snap at his behavior, irritated. “Get out!” you shove him and The Clown Prince of Crime doesn’t budge.

“Why are you mad?” he finally addresses the annoyed Y/N.

“Because you’re a jerk!”

“Come again?!” The Joker frowns and Scarecrow’s daughter has a clever response; she doesn’t share his genes for nothing.

“I would but I guess you’re not a big fan of us having sex a second time!!!”

“Wow!” J bitterly scoffs. “You sure can twist a guy’s words, huh? If you really must pry into my personal life, I’ll have you know that I’m not used with small talk afterwards, understand?”

While you wonder if he’s bluffing, you can’t help offer the benefit of doubt served with a side of insolence.

“Well, maybe if you would give it a try with someone that actually cares, you’d have stuff to discuss.”

“Miss Crane, what makes you think Mara doesn’t like me?”

The Joker expects a feisty reply to his audacious remark yet he receives a piece of sturdy logic instead:

“If she was crazy in love, she wouldn’t agree and with this on and off relationship you two have.”

J is obviously displeased at your statement thus Y/N has to unleash her creativity in order to push him comprehend what she’s aiming at.

“The problem is you don’t approach anything important, you only shut down everyone. Even Emma believes she’s not yours.”

The King of Gotham was preparing to lash out but your latest sentence totally catches him off guard.

“What do you mean?!”

“You never talk about her mother granted she keeps asking so Emma presumes you probably stole her from an individual you consider your enemy and raised her as revenge.”

“Huh?!” The Joker gets on his elbow, appalled. “She is my daughter!”

“I say that to her when she panics, unfortunately random people do look similar…,” you twirl a strand of his green hair around your fingers. “Steering clear from issues we’re uncomfortable with doesn’t necessarily result in a positive outcome,” Y/N concludes and her partner is not excited at all.

“Are you psychoanalyzing me?!”

“I’m a Crane,” you peck his lips. “It’s in our blood.”

A lot of thoughts rushing behind those blue eyes and you’re confident his patience is running low; add a short fuse to the combo and according to your flawless instinct J will bite soon.

“Take me for example,” you attempt to cram in the main point of your dialogue before it happens. “I don’t care you’re older, I fancy your company nevertheless: you’re super handsome plus emotionally unattractive…”

“I’m what?!” The Joker interrupts.

“Umm… emotionally unattractive?” you hesitantly repeat while watching him jump off the pillows and start to collect his clothes in the semi darkness.

“Serves me right for sleeping with somebody half my age!” he growls at the young woman realizing she upset him with her rant.

“So you’re 46?” you struggle to joke at his affirmation.

“Listen here, Miss Crane!” J dresses in a hurry, angry at your stunt. “If you imagine you figured me out, you didn’t!! Nobody fucks with me!” he violently kicks the mattress and you can’t avoid it:

“I think I just did. Literally.”

The hate in his demeanor makes you regret opening up; your goal was to imply you like him no matter what yet the aftermath is way off what you intended.

“I apologize, OK?” you sigh and reach your hand for his.

“I hope you perish!” he strikes your fingers with such brutality it stings. “You’re dying anyway but hopefully the Cromyxillium kills you faster!” The Joker unzips the tent and leaves a shocked Y/N breathless at his hurtful tirade.

“That’s all you got? Stupid old man…” you whimper and cuddle under the thin blanket with his cushion.

Grief is not the correct term to describe what you experience for the moment: a perfect birthday turned into exactly the opposite in a blink of an eye simply because The Joker proved once more he has no concept on how to handle dynamite; fire suits him better.

***************

Next morning, 10:14am

“Are you hot or cold?” your father inquires since your intravenous therapy commenced 10 minutes ago.

“No,” you gaze at the IV bag and Jonathan lingers by your bed, reminding his offspring about their plan.

“We’ll do 3 hours on, 3 hours off; I’ll monitor your vitals and if you feel strange alert me immediately, deal?”

You nod a yes and his perseverance in aiding you with your terminal cancer evokes a sincere confession:

“Daddy…Thank you for trying to save me…I’m sorry I’m a burden…”

“A burden?!” Scarecrow mumbles.

There are a million facts you should evoke, yet the predominant one keeps hunting you.

“You buried yourself in the lab because of me…and Evelyn left…”

“Evelyn and I broke up for various motives,” your parent grumbles. “Saying I immersed myself into working because of you hints that I was forced into it against my will which is not true. I did everything out of love… I can’t bear the idea of losing you,” he kisses your temple; you wrap your free arm around his neck, squeezing him tight.

“You’re the best dad; I’m lucky you’re my father. If I die… you think mom is waiting for me?...”

Jonathan Crane has the weird sensation he’s choking; his wife died after you were born due to leukemia, now their daughter is fighting for survival: she’s plainly the last fortress separating him from utter madness.

“I couldn’t save your mother, but I’ll be damned if I let you die kid,” he caresses your cheek. “She can wait; I bet she’s not eager to take you with her,” Scarecrow reassures his daughter. “Rest honey.”

“I will…” you consent and Emma barging in the bedroom with her duffle bag switches your attention.

“I’m here, I’m here!” she exclaims. “Traffic was horrible, bad accident on the freeway!”

**************

11 am

“Are you comfortable?” Emma checks with her friend, not entirely certain how to bring up a very delicate topic clouding her usually bubbly disposition.

“Of course,” you smile and she wiggles in her recliner. “Are you?” you wink at her visible restlessness as you attempt to lighten the atmosphere.

“Y/N…,” she taps the fluffy carpet with her feet. “Mmmm… last night after we returned from the river I dropped by to see how you’re doing and… I came to your tent…,” Emma pauses seeing the stupefied expression on your face. “I…I found my father sleeping in there with you…”

You lick your lips and strain to keep your calm even if your heart is pounding out of your chest.

“Did my dad take advantage of you?” she lowers her voice and you can tell she’s torn apart by the horrible notion.

“He didn’t,” you shake your head.

“Dumb girl…” Emma admonishes without any trace of resentment; what else can she articulate in these circumstances regardless?  

“I can’t believe I’m inquiring… Did you use protection?”

“No…It just happened…”

“Oh my God!” the concerned judgement pressures you to continue:

“It didn’t end well so it’s fair to assume we’re not in any danger of me becoming your stepmom,” your tone diminishes and she leans over to scold when The Joker passes by the opened door without bothering to peek inside your bedroom; you didn’t spot him but Emma did.

“I’ll be back!” she hisses and you’re confused at her desire to leave you.

“Hey, where are you going?”

She ignores your question and races after The King of Gotham, catching up with him at the end of the long corridor.

“Dad!” Emma shouts and he turns around.

“Yeah?”

“What are you doing?!” she interrogates the clueless Joker.

“I’m meeting Crane. Is he downstairs?”

“In his lab compounding the next batch of Cromyxillium for Y/N,” she fumes at J’s impertinence. “Didn’t you forget something?”

He seems puzzled and Emma is not tricked by his deceiving performance.

“My best friend is in her quarters, uncertain if she’ll survive the cancer treatment. Are you pretending she doesn’t exist?”

“Meaning?” The Joker sneers.

“I know you slept with her!” the accusation follows instantly. “Don’t deny it! How could you take advantage of her?!”

The Clown Prince of Crime straightens his shoulders, aware he can’t negotiate his innocence out of this complicated riddle.

“I did not take advantage of her! How dare you accuse me of such low move?”

“You didn’t?” Emma closes the gap between them. “You know she has a crush on you and she’s vulnerable; what type of man would prey on that?!”

J is not thrilled with the innuendos and cuts her off:

“She basically begged for some and I obliged out of pity!”

Emma slaps him and The Joker gasps, enraged she had the audacity:

“Do that again and I’ll neglect you’re my daughter!” he growls and the serious threat doesn’t faze her.

“Hurt her more and I’ll forget you’re my father! If you are indeed my father,” she emphasizes while stomping away towards the kitchen.

“I am your father!” J simmers at her impeccable strategy: Emma is retreating to a different corner of the house giving him the opportunity to choose.

Who the heck knows if she’s actually his?

One thing is undeniable though: they share the same despicable temper.

****************

You discern The Joker in the doorway and your body stiffens; you stare at the TV screen wishing he’ll disappear.

“Where’s Crane?” J analyzes Y/N’s IV pole.

You don’t engage so his crankiness emerges.

“I suppose you didn’t flatlined yet!”

“Nope,” you grunt at the provocative declaration that served its goal: you did reply to The Clown’s rubbish.

“Where’s Crane?”

“I heard you the first time and I’m not sure why you focus your energy on a useless interrogation. You know where my father is!”

“Where?” The Joker’s vile attitude can’t compromise for less than instigating his fling.

“Please take your stuff that’s firm now but will get saggy in maximum 20 years and vanish!” the poisonous remark makes him groan.

“What stuff?!”

You check him out glaring at his mid-section before dismissing his presence.

“That’s the rudest fucking criticism ever!” The Joker barks and Y/N crabbily indicates:

“It’s not criticism, it’s reality! Gravity’s a bitch! Mara won’t mind, won’t she? After all, you two share a very special bond: on today, off tomorrow, hookup next week, take a break next month. Such dreamy relationship!”

“Do you have more derogatory references to my private life?!” J grinds his teeth ready to unleash several atrocities your way.

“No, too busy dying…” you show him the needle in your arm. “I don’t feel the pain from the medication burning my veins; I’m used with my sickness, with the ups and downs. What I do feel is the pain of being taken for granted.”

The Joker is not a fan of the insinuated context.  

“You said no strings attached!” he stresses the lack of commitment consented the previous evening.

“You’re the one that came to me; I thought it meant you were accepting to be the center of my universe.”

J ogles the ceiling of Y/N’s bedroom and assembles a couple of harsh disclosures in his brain when her entitled smirk halts the project.

“You’re buying it, aren’t you?” you chuckle at his astonishment. “I’m just messing with you Mister Joker; who in their right mind would make you the center of their universe?! You have 10 seconds to leave, otherwise I’ll scream and security will come!” you shelter your head with the quilt so you don’t have to see his mug anymore.

No outpour of vexation from his part which is cool: means he bailed.

The blanket is slowly pulled until your eyes emerge; J hovers your face, pissed at the unwelcomed clash.

“I’m checking if you kicked the bucket; corpses are usually covered thus my dilemma.”

“Go away!” you advise. “Or I’ll scream!”

You inhale preparing to yell: The Joker didn’t predict you’d defy him and he swiftly kisses you in order to stop the sounds.

The door is cracked and Emma witnesses the scene, reckoning bizarre elements:

Her father holds grudges and was mad at Y/N earlier due to whatever happened yesterday; nevertheless he still kissed her.

On the other hand, you were definitely miserable after your escapade, yet you didn’t reject him.

Emma may not be informed about the entire story, but one detail is crystal clear: the future is far from being simple.

 Also read: MASTERLIST

[rubythecrimsonwriter]

Flipping Legacies, pt. 2 (possible edit)

So my intention was that Flipping Legacies Jason was Jason before the Forced Batman-Joker Confrontation, before the batarang incident. He’s still prepping for it. A commenter (!) (you guys are so helpful, I love it) said that they read the Jason I originally had in part 2 (read here) as post-those-events, so I re-wrote part of the conversation. It’s a little late where I am, and I’m tired, and this was all I got done. I’ll probably add to this tomorrow after classes.

Let me know your thoughts? 💖

The start of Pt. 2

“The League of Shadows,” Tony says. “Well, that’s refreshingly direct. That’s probably where your stray came from, at least in training. Apparently, he uses a lot of the same moves as the assassins that Batman has tangled with before. Not completely the same, but similar enough that he definitely has ties.”

Natasha purses her lips as she mulls over the information. This is painting a picture that she’s not sure she likes the look of.

“Hey, Nat,” Clint says gently. “Get info out of the guy, and we’ll have your back every step of the way.”

She breathes deliberately. “Information, then go on a warpath.” She stops. Considers. Her next words are hard to get out, but it’s been years since the Red Room. She can voice her wants. It’s Clint and Tony, both kings of having unreasonable wants. “I don’t want you anywhere near this, physically.”

“I will try to stay out of it until everything goes ass over teakettle,” Clint says.

She snorts and hangs up.

~~~~~~

Natasha heads back to the coffee shop and sits in her usual place. The assassin—Red Hood—appears right on time for his usual loaded hot dog. Instead of propping himself next to the window like he has the last two times, he makes his way into the coffee shop.

“Mind if I sit here?” he says. He’s got a grin on his face like he’s going to try to flirt.

“Hi!” she chirps in recognition and waves at the chair in invitation, a friendly smile on her face. “How were the girls last night after I left?” It’s a blatant reference to the working women they’d both seen last night if he was who she thought he was, but was subtle enough that eavesdroppers wouldn’t know immediately—and, on the off chance that she was wrong, he’d just be confused and think she’d mistaken him for someone else.

The start of the big edit

His bordering-on-flirtatious grin drops off his face like Natasha had flipped a switch. "What do you want?" he asks. His voice doesn't quite break Batman's record for strained gravel, but she could tell that he'd smoked at one point or another.

She keeps her friendly smile, even if it gains an edge of victory. It's nice to put suspicions to rest. "Very little," she says. "I have a particular vendetta against child-assassin-making organizations. I want to know who trained you, and determine for myself if I need to spend a year or two dismantling them in the messiest, most visible way possible."

His expression becomes...interesting. There's surprise, definitely, and maybe some vindictive amusement. Confusion is pretty prominent, too, but the majority of his expression is something that Natasha's not familiar with. He's caught completely off guard.

Suddenly, his previous expression gets wiped off and his entire bearing becomes calculating.

"You're the Black Widow. Why do you need me to tell you?" he asks shrewdly.

"I don't," she says easily. "I already had Tony hack Batman's files on you and came up with the League of Shadows."

His eyes do something strange when she mentions Batman. A bright turquoise is an odd color for eyes in the first place, so she definitely notices when his eyes suddenly turn as green as her own. He breathes in a moment. It’s incredibly subtle, and if she wasn’t who she was, she never would have noticed. Hood blinks and his eyes turn to a light blue-green: greener than when they started, but not anything like they were a moment ago.

Something cold clasps around her heart, vividly remembering Clint and his electric blue eyes. Her instinct says to immediately knock him out and do a hard reset, but this might be an entirely different version of mind control and she might make it worse.  

She forcibly yanks herself away from pondering it any longer. Information, then warpath.

"I wanted confirmation from you, and to give you a heads up," she says.

"A...heads up," he says flatly.

She sips her coffee. "Sure. I'll be tracking your steps back to the League of Shadows, and I currently don't have much of an idea of what I'll be stepping on. I figure that if I walk into a hornets' nest, then that's on me, but if they come after you without any warning, that's still on me. The plan is to attract enough attention that no one would even think about coming after you--I know, you're a highly efficient Kingpin who don't need no assassin watching out for you--but in the event that the unlikely happens, as it is wont to do, you're prepared."

He looks like she struck him over the head with a baseball bat. It's a little amusing, she won't lie, but she persistently pushes down the little laugh that wants to come up. She sips her coffee again, resists the urge to slurp it obnoxiously, and waits.

"I'm not a Kingpin," he finally says.

Which. What?

She allows the grin on her face, setting the expression to highly amused while being absolutely deadpan. "A very efficient Kingpin," she disagrees.

Natasha will be calling Clint tonight, and Clint will actually hurt himself laughing at this. She's accused people of being Kingpins before, but hardly ever to their face, and she's never gotten quite the reaction that she's getting from Hood.

Actually, there was that one Russian mafiya head that had looked especially flattered to get personally taken out by Chernaya Vodva. He’d been a bit odd, though.  

“Uh, no, Kingpins control the trade and the distribution of illegal goods, I’m--”

Natasha has the pleasure of watching Hood try to come up with a description that doesn’t involve some variation of “controlling the trade and the distribution of illegal goods”. This is genuine comedy. The disturbingly efficient teen has seized control of the entirety of the trade and distribution of illegal goods in Crime Alley and the Narrows through systematic removal of power centers and redirected the power to easily controllable figureheads.

If Natasha hadn’t already done her research, she’d suspect that the assassin is Russian. The Russians like those kind of power plays. Of course, so do the British and the Americans. It’s practically a time-honored tradition of powerful coalitions, and the fact that this not-even-fully-grown teen has stepped into these shoes deserves genuine admiration.

At least, in Natasha’s books.  

And, even better, the assassin has become a Kingpin in an effort to make it so that crime damages the innocent less. There’s no more human traffickers, no more abusive pimps, the homeless and beaten down children of Gotham are kept as safe as Gotham can be, the drugs are checked for poisonous additives, and the guns that are imported are checked for safety features and flaws that would result in a deadly accident. Of course, there are other, more esoteric items on the black market that Hood probably doesn’t have control over, but he’s covered the main things that cause deaths in Crime Alley.

Natasha is aware of her superhero status, even if it never quite feels real after being a ghost draped in blood for so long, and she’s met vigilante and hero and villain alike. Hood is the definition of an anti-hero, and watching his work unfold through the articles and shaky phone videos and the crime statistics dropping steadily has been like watching a time-lapse of an artist working.

Sure, Batman might have some issues with the amount of murder the assassin has tossed around, but now that the power centers are out of play and the rules established, Natasha has the suspicion that Hood’s tendencies for massacres with a side of theatrical flair will decrease dramatically.

“Fuck, I am a Kingpin,” Hood mumbles to himself after a long moment of silence.

Natasha sips her coffee noncommittally.

"You're laughing at me," he says, resigned.

"A little bit, yes," Natasha says. "I don't normally have to inform someone of their Kingpin status, much less argue with them over it."

He's silent for a long while. She can see him struggling with something, and she gives him the space and time to do it. She has plenty of coffee to sip from.

[multifandomimagin3s]

Batsy

Warnings: Smut, strong language, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, kiddos)

AN: I got this idea from that clip where Harley and Nightwing do the deed and my smutty brain churned out this ;) It’s probably shit cause I can’t write smut for shit but, merry crisis!

“Would it kill you to smile for once?”

Bruce glared blankly from under his mask as (Y/N) poked his cheek lightly with her index finger, twitching her nose slightly in distaste. In any other circumstance he would’ve found the woman very beautiful - which of course, she was, as much as he hated himself for feeling such an attraction to a villain he couldn’t deny that fact. If only their moral compasses weren’t complete opposites...

She huffed slightly when he didn't reply, tapping her nails on the dense helmet area of his mask, close to the centre of his forehead,” Hello? You in there, hun?”

“Don’t call me ‘hun’, (Y/N).”

“Oh, so you are in! Fantastic! Means I don’t have to sit and talk to myself.”

The (Y/H/C) woman turned briskly on her heels, pulling up a small stool to sit adjacent to the caped hero. He took the chance to tug hard at his restraints, grunting in frustration as the ropes didn’t budge, instead tightening around his arms in retaliation. So there he remained, strapped down on his knees, arms strung up like puppet strings. 

“Those ropes are pretty neat, huh?” Bruce rolled his eyes, grinding his teeth as the perky villain returned, plopping down on the stool like an excited child. She pulled up her legs, perched comfortable on the soft suede material,” Those were a gift from my dear old pal, Ivy - she doesn’t like you very much...come to think of it, not a lot of my friends do...”

“Yeah well, your ‘friends’ are criminals, villains like yourself don’t typically like being apprehended for the crimes you commit --”

She clicked her tongue, raising her index finger to cut him off,” Ah, that’s where you’re wrong, Batsy - I don’t hate you, per se, you just keep getting in my way - you’re lucky I think you’re hot, otherwise you’d probably be dead by now, Sweetie.”

Bruce quirked a brow at the off-the-cuff compliment, the upper half of his face still hidden behind his mask. His azure eyes scanned her form, from her royal purple boots, to her stripped leotard of a similar hue which clung to her curves beautifully. As inwardly flattered as he was, he knew that allowing himself to be distracted when in a situation like this exudes bad news. He had to get out of there...wherever there was.

“Where are we, (Y/N)?” Bruce spoke curtly, gaze honed in to stare directly into the female villain’s eyes. It made it easier to read a person’s emotions and thoughts, which could be crucial here should she lie to him. 

“It’s a rundown building - no-one else is around but us two, how cute is that?!” She purred with faux amity, uncurling herself from her seat slowly. Her gaze trained on his, she took a few leisurely steps towards him, his face at hip-level due to his kneeling position. She playfully twanged his leg restraints, sitting criss-cross legged no more than two feet away from where he remained. The jovial expression seemed to instantly fall away from her delicate features, now replaced by the blank slate that he was used to,” Now, I need to know what you know.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about Bruce,” His heart almost stopped in his chest...how did she know his name? It was impossible, he had been so careful to cover his tracks in all his years living his double life: playboy millionaire by day, Batman by night. 

“How do you know my name?!”

Her (Y/E/C) orbs widened, a grin playing on her lips,” You just told me! Ha! I had my theories but man I didn’t think I was right! Props to me!” Bruce closed his eyes in a silent curse. She leaned forward to whisper in his ear,” It’s okay, your secret is safe with me -” And with that, she peeled off her mask, laying it in front of him,” And now we’re square.”

He took a minute to study her face, now revealed in its entirety for the first time. She was honestly beautiful, but he couldn’t understand why she compromised herself in such a way,” Why did you do that? I know your face, it’ll make it a whole lot easier to capture you.”

She waved him off,” Yeah, whatever - the villain life is good and all but it’s been pretty lonely these past few months - with the Joker dead, Harley and Ivy have teamed up, the Scarecrow is too damn scary for my liking, the Mad Hatter - well, self explanatory...”

Bruce tugged again at the ropes on his arms, pulling hard on a section of yellowing plant matter. The strip frayed slightly under the tension, indicating a weak point - if he could pull hard enough --

He was distracted by a dull thud as clothing hit the floor. Bruce looked over, eyes widening slightly as he watched the villain rummage through a wardrobe of outfits...completely naked other than a flimsy thong. He swallowed thickly, mentally chastising himself for staring like a horny teenage boy. She bent over, displaying the perfect swell of her ass which sent a hard pulse down south in his boxers. She was so prefect, but so wrong for him. He looked down at his growing hard-on in distaste, tugging hard at his restraints again in an attempt to regain his control. 

“It sucks being a villain sometimes, you know?” (Y/N) turned to face him, her new outfit folded neatly over her interlocked elbows; the material covered the most of her breasts but the position only succeeded in pushing the soft mounds upwards, which didn’t help his growing issue any. Noticing his visible discomfort, her eyes slowly trailed south, mouth opening in an ‘o’ shape in realisation,” Oh, uh - wow - really?”

No response, as he tried to pry his arms from their bindings. (Y/N) quirked a brow, sashaying across to the struggling man with a smirk as she realised he was watching her movements. As he opened his mouth to speak, she dropped the clothes, hands falling by her sides. His breath caught in his throat, brows furrowing,” No.”

“Did you like my little show, Brucie? It wasn’t even intentional, I thought that the good guys were pure and all that stuff - but you’re clearly not...” (Y/N) snorted, noticing how his cock twitched in his pants at the sight of her breasts moving when she moved her arms,” I have a proposition for you...”

“No, I don’t make deals with criminals.”

She ignored his adamant comment,” You quite clearly like what you see, and I won’t deny that big, muscly guys really get me going, so...” She plucked a small blade from her dresser, the handle a duo-chrome blue,” How about this - I cut you loose, and you have two choices - you can fuck off, but that means that the next time I see you I will kill you, or...we can have some fun.”

With an accurate, sharp swipe he found his legs to be free, inwardly mulling over the offer in his head as he quickly got to his feet. (Y/N) tossed the knife haphazardly to the side, sauntering across to a single-person bed that was pressed into the far wall. Bruce snapped the ropes briskly, eyes watching her plump ass until it disappeared out of view, as she made herself comfortable on the soft linen sheets. 

“So what will it be, Bruce?”

Bruce palmed her left breast firmly, thumb rolling over her pert nipple, before trailing down to flick her clit sharply. (Y/N) bit her bottom lip, smiling coquettishly, running a hand through his dark, choppy locks; his gloved index finger slid over the soft skin of her freshly shaved mound, trailing over her glistening petals. Surely there would be no harm in indulging himself a little? She knew who he was, there could be no more collateral damage from this interaction than there would be already. 

He gasped as her petite hand grasped his clothed cock impatiently, squeezing lightly as if prompting him to do something. Bruce gave her torso a light shove, sending her further up the bed to give him some room. She let out a giggle at being practically manhandled, which only drove him on more.

Her brows knitted together as he licked a broad stripe across her pussy, flicking across her clit briefly, before taking the sensitive bud into his mouth. A girlish moan escaped her lips, as he slid his index and middle fingers into her slick walls, curling the digits with harsh thrusts that had her eyes rolling back into her head. The rough texture of his glove was delicious as it pressed against her g-spot, a completely different sensation from skin on skin contact. 

“Bruce, I-I’m gonna cum -” She moaned, voice reaching a higher pitch as a familiar warm sensation began to brew in her belly. Just as she was about to reach her peak he pulled away, leaving her to whine with her ruined orgasm,” You’re such a dick -” He stuck his glistening gloved fingers in her mouth, a small smile on his lips as she took the fabric between her teeth, pulling it away from his hand. Her hands made light work of his armour and clothes, as he stood in a pair of plain black boxers, towering over her sprawled out form. 

Her mouth watered as she spied the tent in his boxers, the chiselled God of a man kneeling down on the bed, hand moving to touch her hip. Years of combat training came in handy, as in a flash she had him under her, a dazed and confused expression on his face. Without a word, she winked, pressing open mouthed kisses to his chest, nails scratching against his snail trail which caused his stomach to jump. 

He helped to shimmy off his boxers, his cock now pressed against his stomach, the tip glistening with precum. (Y/N) wrapped a hand around him, tongue flicking out to lick the tip delicately,” So big...I don’t think it will fit.” Bruce took in a deep breath as she took him in slowly, tongue swirling around the head deliciously. His hands collected her hair in a makeshift ponytail, using it as a rein as she bobbed her head, hands jerking off what she couldn’t fit in her mouth. 

“Fuck,” She licked a lewd stripe from his balls to his tip, applying pressure onto the vein underneath his shaft, before sliding up to straddle his waist. His large hands fell to her hips, as she wiggled her hips teasingly, lining his tip up with her entrance, tapping it against her slick folds,” Don’t tease.”

A short gasp filled the air as she sank down on his member, a small sting in her pussy from the intrusion. He was by far the biggest she’d had. Her nails dug into the thick muscle of his shoulders as she began to move, slowly rising and falling on his cock rhythmically. Bruce lightly sucked on her nipples, pulling at them with his teeth as she began to pick up speed.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” A string of curses escaped her perfect lips, head falling back as his cock hit all the right spots. Bruce thumbed over her bottom lip, before pulling her into a bruising kiss; villain be damned, he wouldn’t regret this. His hand drew back, smacking her ass with a resounding slap that had her jolting towards his chest with a playful grin,” If I had known - fuck - that you were this good I’d have offered sooner.”

Bruce chuckled lightly, slapping her ass again - once, twice, then a third time, before wrapping his arms around her waist, repositioning them both on the small bed. Her leg now rested on his shoulder, allowing for a completely new angle for him to fuck into her. Her hands balled into the comforter with a girlish squeal, a pornographic moan erupting from her chest. 

(Y/N) could feel her release approaching fast, leg flicking from Bruce’s shoulder in favour of wrapping both limbs around his hips. He leant forward, thrusting harder, the bedframe creaking in protest to the rampant movements. Her nails scratched angry red trails down his shoulder blades as he let out a hiss, mouth latching onto her neck. With a lurid moan, she came hard, squeezing his cock deliciously within her tight walls. With a grunt, he followed suit, white ropes of cum flooding her pussy, as he collapsed on top of her. 

Bruce rolled sideways, plucking the villain into his arms, as she laid with her head against his chest, sweaty bodies entangled together. (Y/N) smiled, swiping a sweaty lock of hair away from her head,” So does this mean I’m off the hook, hun?”

“For now, yes...I’ll have to cuff you later -”

“Oh, handcuffs? - I knew you were kinky!”

[rocket-roach]

Shadows We Know

request from everyone’s favorite fandom mom and queen of knowledge who i admire very much, @fuyunoakegata 

I wanted to write more of this and I think I definitely will at one point, because I love all the boys in this fic and I feel like there’s a lot more for me explore in this story.

ANYWAY. without further ado: here’s dick, jason, and tim dealing (and struggling) with their father and losing someone else very important

Word count: 2133

He’s always had nightmares. They just got worse after his parents were killed. Then they were catastrophic after Bruce died.

Tim running around the manor while he hunted for the ghost of their father didn’t help any.

Patrol had been quiet. Damian didn’t complain as much as he used to, even with Tim’s return to the manor. It had been months since Dick had fired Tim and started the youngest as Robin. But it was nice to have Tim back. Even if he was quickly and drastically reducing the amount of espresso in the house.

His mind was flying. Tim was back, but Jason had been spending nearly every waking hour in Crime Alley. Dick had gone there to bring him home. But the sight of Jay leaving sacks of Big Belly Burger on the fire escapes and at the entrances of the cardboard lean-tos, he left him alone. It didn’t feel right to ask him to come home then. Jason was still healing, and he didn’t want to force open those wounds.

He laid in his bed, aching to go across the hall and ask Bruce for help.

But that was what crazy people didn’t, wasn’t it? Ask the dead for advice. He wasn’t crazy, he rationalized as he slid his feet into the Superman slippers on the side of his bed. He was just out of options. Dick padded across the hall. Bruce’s door opened with its usual soft groan.

Lit only by the full moon outside, the massive master suite was spotless. There wasn’t a speck of dust on the desk, the bedside table, the dresser, or even in the bathroom. Finding the room to his liking, he sat on the bed and laid down. Bruce’s grey comforter was just as fluffy as the day he left it. The former acrobat wiggled underneath it after a beat, wrapping it around himself in a cocoon of warmth.

Dick fell asleep moments later.

He was standing under the big top, the spotlights aimed at the platforms above. His parents stood on the far right one, waving their hands as an invisible crowd cheered loudly. On the left, stood Bruce. He was shouting, Dick could tell from the way that one vein was straining on his forehead and how the tendons on his neck were taught. But he was making no sound.

He was trying to stop the Dick’s parents from leaping. He finally caught sight of Dick in the ring, and Bruce’s glacial eyes pinned him to that spot.

 Over the roar of the crowd, Dick heard Bruce say four words.

“Crime Alley devours children.”

John and Mary’s bodies hit the ground with two wet thuds.

Dick shot awake in his father’s bed, his hair soaked with sweat and tears and snot covering his face. Songbirds were heralding the new day outside of the bay windows, and bile rose in his throat. Dick charged to the bathroom; his hands gripping the porcelain bowl as he vomited. Alfred had started knocking on the door. Dick was too busy dry-heaving over the puke to answer. Then he felt a gentle hand smoothing his hair away from his face.

“Master Dick,” Alfred said softly. “It’s alright, sir. You’re okay.”

“I saw him, Al,” Dick finally said. “in my dream.”

Alfred tried to muffle his groan as he joined Dick on the floor, but from the worried look Dick shot him, he hadn’t been successful.

“Should we move to the bed?”

“I’m old, Master Dick. Not an invalid. Do you want to tell me about the dream?”

“He said something really weird. He said, god, what was it?” Dick bit his lip as he thought. “Oh, that’s right. ‘Crime Alley devours children.’ That’s pretty off the wall, even for him.”

“He might be onto something,” a deep, smoke ruined voice said from the doorway. “Three of the kids under my protection have gone missing within the past three weeks.”

“I came to tell you Master Jason was home,” Alfred spoke.

 They were in the cave after breakfast, with Damian sticking close to Dick’s side. Tim was in the evidence corner, muttering to himself as he putzed with various spoils of intergalactic battle. Jason’s hands kept going to the front right pocket where a pack of Camel blue cigarettes sat, his lighter just barely visible.

“A lot them move down there because they know it’s a favorite spot of ours. I tried scarin’ em off at first, didn’t want them running into any of the usual assholes who hang there. But that only encouraged them. Three weeks ago, 17 kids were living in that alley. As of this morning, there’s only 14. At first, I just thought they’d moved to a better place in the city. But there’s this one kid, Jules Adams. Told me all about how she saw a shadow with fangs take Colton Taylor. He was the first kid who vanished. Then told me that she heard Hank Giaccione yelling about fangs. She told me that, and when I brought her a coffee this morning--”

“You gave a kid coffee?” Tim asked.

“Quiet, Tim. The adults are talking,” Jason waved him off. “Anyway, I brought her coffee and donuts, but Jerome said she vanished just before sunrise. Jerome said he saw giant sharp teeth dragging her down the alley.”

“You’re like four years older than me,” Tim griped.

“We’re supposed to believe that shadows that have teeth are stealing street rats, Todd?”

“I came back from the dead, in case you forgot. I basically raised you.”

“You did not!” Damian shouted.

“Then who wiped your ass when the other ninjas wouldn’t?”

“The ninjas didn’t want to wipe his ass?” Tim asked as he emerged from the evidence corner with a time gun. “Jesus, how much did you poop?”

Dick intervened as Damian began turning beet red. “We’re getting off topic,” He wrapped an arm around Damian, drawing him fully against his side. “What do you think it is, Jay?”

“Sounds like some witchcraft stuff to me,” Tim interjected as a yellow blast of energy blew out of the barrel of the gun. A bat who had been unlucky enough to be downrange suddenly exploded into a giant bat, to which Tim noted: “Huh, guess they really are evolved from Megachiroptera. How ‘bout that.”

The next round fired was neon green, and a very startled and confused bat crashed into the nearest cave wall.

“Tim, stop shooting the bats.”

“I need to figure out how this thing works,” Tim muttered as he wandered back to the evidence corner.

Jason watched as Tim’s mop of messy hair vanished around the wall.

“Is he still looking for Bruce?” Jason asked once it was just the three of him.

“He’s still convinced that he’s not dead.”

“I mean, the boss man thought I was dead. So, did you, Dick. If there’s anything this family is really bad at, it’s staying dead. Anyway, I thought it was witchcraft like Tim did. I talked to Swamp Thing while I was down in Florida vising Roy and he said it didn’t sound like any magical being he’d ever heard of. Then I was thinking about it; the shadow only comes out at night. There’s no report of a shadow with fangs appearing during daylight. I don’t think it’s witchcraft. I think it’s just some psychopath.”

 Dick’s dreams were worse that evening. He was back in the big top. His parents and Bruce were standing in the same spots they were the night before. But the crowd was a writhing mass of black, twisted shadows roaring for a jump. A whip of the black shadows rocketed from the nosebleeds, connecting with Bruce’s back. He was shoved off the platform, his face as stoic as ever as he plummeted down. Feet away from the dirt, he turned his head and looked Dick in the eyes.

“The shadow knows,” He said before his neck broke.

 The next night found Red Hood, Robin, and Batman perched on the various run-down buildings that guarded Crime Alley. Beneath them, kids dressed in ratty old clothes both too large and too small for them scrounged about in the alley for scraps of food. They were all quiet as they watched. If the kids knew they were there, they didn’t acknowledge them. For that, the assembled bats were grateful. It helped them in their hunt. Hours passed. They switched buildings. Ate some Jokerized burgers. Damian beat Jason in four games of rock, paper, scissors. Jason gave Damian a noogie. Dick had to remove a shuriken from Jason’s side.

They did this for 6 days straight.

It had been a week since Jules disappeared. Jason was becoming frantic. The shadow would strike again tonight, he was sure of it. He could taste it like he could taste the staleness of the cigarette he was currently plowing through.

And Dick was nowhere to be found. He’d been trying to hail him all night on the comms, even going so far at one point as to send one of the kids to the police station to turn on the signal. There had been no response.

“Hood to cave,” he murmured. “Tonight’s the night. I could really use some backup. Or, whatever.”

“You know, you’re really bad at asking for help,” Tim responded, the sound of his grapple firing over his comm. “Bats can’t make it tonight. Robin said he had a bad night. He’s down for the count; or at least till the knock-out gas Agent A gave him wears off.”

“Jesus,” Jay breathed. “That bad?”

“He nearly clocked Robin. He’s in a bad way. Don’t worry about briefing me, I’m all caught up.”

Jay noticed one of the cardboard boxes was now leaning to the right, when it had been drifting left towards collapse at the beginning of the evening.

“For the record,” Jason said as Tim landed to his right. “I believe you. I don’t buy it that Bruce is dead.”

The white covered eyes of Tim’s cowl narrowed as he watched his older brother. “Do you really?”

“Speaking as a former dead person myself, yes. Now, I think our perp is down there. Let’s move.”

 The next morning found Jay and Tim, sitting at the table covered in bandages and brooding. Dick joined them. He had dark circles under his eyes which only made the paleness of his face stand out. He sat in his usual spot, to the right of the head seat. None of the boys said anything. They just sat. Alfred entered quietly, serving each one their favorite breakfasts. Chicken and waffles for Dick. Pancakes buried underneath breakfast sausage, bacon, and hash browns. Eggs benedict with a side of yogurt and strawberries for Tim. Cheese stuffed kaek for Damian, with a nice cup of tea.

They ate in silence.

Damian’s plate remained untouched.

 Alfred left the room to go retrieve Damian for his morning repast.

Jason sighed. He really wanted a fucking smoke.

Tim finished his yogurt. He needed to get back to finding his dad.

Dick swallowed a bite that was too big. He wanted his dad to be alive again, so he could get some sleep.

“Master Damian is missing.”

“There were 14 kids this morning,” Tim jolted in his seat.

 Dick decided that he was going to fight off sleep until he could find his youngest brother. It didn’t feel right to see Bruce in his sleep while his son was missing. The bats tore apart Crime Alley, asking every kid for help, taking every piece of evidence. Any criminal unlucky enough to mouth off to Batman that night got a taste of their own teeth.

“It’s almost as if he’s back,” Red Robin whispered to Red hood.

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown,” Hood responded.

Eventually, they end up in the Iron District. The snarling of the Batmobile echoed through the derelict buildings. All the clues and evidence they’d collected in their fear and rage was leading them to the original Wayne Enterprises factory. Where their father’s wealth had been quintupled during the industrial revolution.

All the signs were pointing them to the smoke stacks that loomed higher than any others in that area.

The car drove through a loading dock, then straight to the center of the building where the stacks sat. They were out of the car before it was completely still, charging towards the man-sized opening at the bottom of the middle one. Dick charged in first, Tim right on his heels. Jason checked his guns, then stepped through.

 A long haired, very bearded, Bruce Wayne was leaning against the wall with a regular tenant of Arkham Asylum unconscious at his feet. He held a bruise covered Damian in his arms. Those glacial blue eyes were filled with fire.

“He brought me back,” Bruce whispered.

[shauds-archived]

Engage with Eddie Bloomberg, Stephanie Brown, and maybe a mention of Jason Todd

Wasn’t the first request I got, but it had parts of both the OTP and the brOTP. I had to.

Titans tower is an easy place to get lost in. It’s also an easy place to bump into people. Stephanie and Eddie both learn something new about his old penpal.

The Titans Tower was, in a word, big. Why they needed so many floors of rooms, Steph could only guess at. Maybe they’d expected more of those kids that had come and gone over the past year to stay, but this time, it was the Titans who were rejected. Or they had some huge parties and needed the place for people to sleep it off afterwards. There was no way of knowing and, as entertaining as the reasons behind it were to think about, it didn’t really help any with her current problem.

More than just big, the place was near as twisty as Gotham’s back alleys and also like those alleys, not very easy to navigate if one wasn’t already familiar with the layout. A really good setup in the case of the intruders the Teen Titans had to deal with every other month, but not so welcoming to guests either. Not that Steph would have ever called them exactly welcoming to her per se .

Taking all of that into account, it wasn’t entirely Steph’s fault that she got lost in the place on her way back to her assigned guest room. What she would, however, take full responsibility for, was that her rush to find that room resulted in her moving a bit too fast, resulted in her not paying enough attention to where she was going, resulted in… this.

Dozens of envelopes and sheets of paper fluttering down the staircase she’d been descending and a very confused… she thought this one was Kid Devil, on his but at the foot of those stairs with a near empty cardboard box in his arms.

“Oh my god I am so sorry.” Steph said, hurrying to pick up some of the letters. “I was trying to find my room, and this place was so big and I…”

“Wait, wait, wait.” He yelled, waving his arms and leaping to his feet and startling Steph into dropping the letters she’d gathered. He flinched at her response. “Sorry, they’re just, sort of old and fragile” he said more softly, there was a gentleness to the way he picked up the letters himself, tucking some of the well worn pages into corresponding envelopes they seemed to have escaped from in the fall escaped from in the fall.

“If I’m really careful?” She waved her hands on either side her face. “I got dainty, detective’s hands.”

“Yeah, sure.” He offered her a shy grin, showing off the orange glow that was apparent even through his teeth.

“Cool.” Steph replied, glad for the mask that hid at least some of how embarrassed she was and gathered some of the letters, careful as when she’d helped Batman gather evidence as Robin. “Again, so, so sorry. I was a little lost, and I didn’t think anyone would be around here.”

“Neither did I.” He said. “It’s kind of why I was taking this route.”

“Oh.” Steph nodded. “Don’t want your friends to get a look at all of your love letters?” If her face had been visible, Steph might have waggled her brows.

Kid Devil snorted and shook his head. “Nah, these are all from a penpal I had when I was a kid.” He accepted the stack of letters Steph handed him and slotted them back onto the box.

Steph might have left it at that, thinking he probably just didn’t want to get run over by any of his more rowdy teammates like he had been by her. Then the next thing she picked up was a picture. An old polaroid, worn as the rest, of Robin posing as dead in the mouth of that huge t-rex down in the Batcave. The Robin wasn’t Tim, and the picture didn’t look like it could have been from when the first one was that small, it obviously wasn’t Steph herself, and unless there was some other one she’d never heard about, process of elimination dictated it had to be… Oh boy.

“So, just a penpal, huh?” Steph passed him the picture, and looking at it turned his lips up in an amused smile before he tucked in into an envelope. “That’s pretty cool, why hide it?”

“People…” he trailed off, looked up at Steph, then quickly away from her, his brows furrowed. “They say bad things about him now, and…” he picked up a few more letters. “he was my friend, I mean, if you asked me, he was cool.” That made a little more sense, if Steph had been the Red Hood’s penpal when she was a kid, she wouldn’t exactly be shouting it from the rooftops either. “I always thought his family would make them stop eventually, but now…” he closed the box and pressed down the no-longer sticky tape along the middle. “I just, don’t want to have to hear those thing’s again.” Now that, and the resentful tone he’d used, it made a little less sense, but it was kind of interesting to get another perspective on the guy. “Want me to take you by the kitchen?”

“Yeah, thanks.” Steph brushed some of the dust from the letters off her knees when she stood. “You think they’re lying or something?”

“I think, you shouldn’t say stuff like that about someone who can’t defend themselves anymore.” He held the box carefully, like something precious and locked eyes with her. “And I know he wasn’t like that and they…” His fingers dug into the box, leaving dents in the cardboard. “They didn’t even tell me when he died, I couldn’t go to the funeral or anything, I didn’t even know until after there was a new one, and I waited so long for another letter.” Geez, harsh much? She knew Batman was cagey, but really?

“Yeah, I know those guys, they don’t do much of the telling-people-things thing.” She rolled her eyes, trying not to think about the way it stung to learn that she’d been kept out of the loop, that she’d only be included if she was part of a club that she’d never be let in to. “If it makes you feel any better, they never told me much eith…” Wait, if they didn’t tell Kid Devil when Mister Dawn of The Dead was curtain called… Oh no “Bet you uh, would have liked to see him again.

"Well, yeah sure, ” his face scrunched up at her question, not in that ‘the girl I’m talking to asked a dumb question’ kind of look, but this one made her feel almost as bad. God they were assholes. “but I’m also kind of glad you know, that he’s not around to hear what…”

“Jason Todd is alive.”

“What?”

Yeah, maybe she shouldn’t have blurted that out like that, but she was in it already, might as well swim deeper. “Your penpal?” Maybe he just didn’t know the name, she hadn’t until a while ago either.

“I know who he was, but he, is?.”

“Yeah he is, crawled up out of his coffin - probably not literally - ,” hopefully not literally, “and went Pet Cemetery on Gotham’s underworld. "A little too late for Steph, but she had the image she’d gotten from the Batcave of Black Mask making like eggs and scrambling from a rocket launcher and nobody could ever take that away from her.

"And, it’s really him?” He sounded, somewhere in the vicinity of hopeful, but there was something else there.

“I think so?” It sounded like a question, she hadn’t meant for it to sound that much like a question.

“How long?”

“I really don’t know much, but a couple years maybe?”

“A couple years!” He yelled, then looked at her for a couple of seconds, unblinking, and his eyes narrowed sharply. “That ass.” He shook his head, his lips curled in a scowl that seemed very out of place on his face.

“Listen, I shouldn’t have told you, he’s…” She sighed and lifted up her face mask to actually let the guy look at her. “I just thought you deserved to know, but he’s on Batman’s 'do not engage’ list, that’s the list he put Joker on. You know what that means?”

“Can you hold my letters?” He pressed the box into her hands, then pointed down one of the halls. “Kitchen’s down that way.”

“Hey Kid!” She called after him, but he was already gone. Steph huffed. Batman hadn’t been able to find Jason Todd in all this time, and she’d never heard of Kid Devil being some great detective. Then again, she’d never heard of Jason Todd having friends in the hero community either so, that wasn’t saying much. Maybe it would be better to tell someone. She felt the weight of the box in her hands, thought of the way he’d held it. Maybe she’d just go after him herself instead. “Do not engage means do not engage!”

000

There were a lot of time, over the past four years, and even before, that someone saw fit to tell Jason he was going to hell, that they hoped a demon dragged him off. He doubted, sincerely that any of those someone’s had ever meant it literally.

Even with everything Jason had seen in his lives, of all the thing’s he’d thought would happen to him, being tackled off of a rooftop by a very loud, sort of happy, sort of mad, very demonic looking demon guy was maybe at the last.

“A couple of years Jason?!”

The purple girl showing up to separate them afterwards was a very close second.

[youreallyshouldtalkmore]

The Balance_Part 4

Alright!! We are back for more installments of the Lion and His Lamb series!!

This story takes place early in their relationship, right after The Oasis which is the first story in this series.

Part 4

Erik seemed to snap back then, his eyes snapping to your own. It took a moment before his parted mouth could form words.

“Excuse me?”

You shrugged, “Whatever it is, show me.”

Erik scoffed then and you continued, “If you are that worried about it, then show me. Shouldn’t you know what my response is so you can deal with it and not make up things in your head?” Although your words seem a bit cutting there was gentleness in your voice.

Erik gave a bark of laughter, eyes darting away from you, “Girl please, you think you could handle it?”

You lifted your chin, “One way to find out.”

He looked back you and at once realized you were serious. Suddenly, Erik found himself almost having a panic attack although nothing was visible on the outside.  As what happened when he found some emotion he had a hard time dealing with, his eyes went flat and cold and he shoved them behind the impenetrable mask.

You found yourself shivering at the look he was giving you. Piercing, calculating

Deadly almost.

Was this a glimpse of Killmonger?

You had never really known “Killmonger”. At worse you caught glimpse but this one was the worse. You felt a stab of fear but you reminded yourself that Erik had yet to hurt you or even attempt such a thing.  Though you did wander if Killmonger showed up earlier. Erik did seem angrier than he normally was with you. However, you would give him credit until he did something you couldn’t deal with.

Killmonger saw your shiver, his eyes trailing it down to your toes. He blinked and looked back at you. Slowly he cocked his head, unblinkingly before his neck twitched. Still his eyes bore into you and you fought not to curl into yourself.

Indeed you raised an eyebrow and crossed your arms, ““Well? This decade. If not, there’s the door.” You pointed behind you.

Killmonger took measured steps towards you and you forced yourself not to take a step back. He came very close, leaning down until you could almost feel his breath. You held his dark gaze that seemed to bore no emotion.

Finally he took a step back and in fluid motion took off his hoodie. 

He held your gaze as he let the hoodie drop to the floor. After a moment you let your eyes drop down. You had to admit that his body was cut to perfection. He obviously worked on it but then you saw the scars that riddled his body. You frowned. Each one seemed to be perfectly in order. Almost too neat and in order. 

“You know what each of these stands for?” He watched you with half-lidded eyes, “Each one is a kill.”

You felt a shudder go through you as you thought about that. Exactly how many were on him? You didn’t want to know and you forced yourself not to count absently.

A rough hand jerked your chin up, “Not all of them deserved to die. Some were innocent and not all were American. Some from Afghanistan, Iraq and even in Africa. All of them right here. The young, the old, and the in-between.”

He took your hand and put in on his waist, making you feel the scars. They felt bumpy but they had a smoothness you didn’t think was possible just looking at him.

Killmonger bared his teeth, “Your little Erik isn’t as innocent as you think. You gonna run now, ma?”

A slow grin appeared on his face and seemed to almost be Joker like. 

Tears began to well up in his eyes. Was this what he was afraid of?

“Go head, run. Scream. Call for someone. Call me a monster.” Killmonger goaded.

Tears spilled over your cheek, “What? The memory of your kills weren’t enough for you? You had to memorialize them on your body as well?”

Killmonger looked he had been slapped. His eyebrows twitched as if he couldn't figure out what he should have been feeling. His mouth parted a little in a gape as he blinked hard. His own hand on your wrist slackened and he felt your hand beginning to rub his chest on your own.

You moved your chin and looked down, “It actually feel sorry for you. Most people would want to forget these kinds of things.” You reached up and laid a hand over his heart, “And yet, you would remember it all?”

You looked up then to see a silent tear making its way down his cheek.

You reached up and wiped it away. “I guess I could see why you would be scared of letting me know but you don't have to be. I’m not gonna run from you, Erik. At least, not for this.”

Erik could feel your words seeping into his brain and his heart. You really wouldn't? Women before you were freaky and he never cared if they found him repulsive. He only cared for his own needs. But with you, he wanted you to understand and not judge him.

And yet, your large dark eyes were looking up at him. You were touching him as if you had no fear. What were you? A saint or an angel?

Suddenly, he pushed you back, almost making you stumble confusing marring your features.

“I don’t know what this is but you won’t trick me.” Erik mumbled shaking his head, “No sane human would ever be okay with it.”

“Are T’Challa and Shuri okay with? Nakia? Your Aunt, you talked about? It seems like you have people who already know and are okay with it. So why can’t I be?”

“Because, it’s you!” Erik exploded.

“I don’t understand, Erik. You have to speak clearly.” Your voice was calm ad you watched as Erik began pacing back and forth. Agitation was in every line in his body and as he carded his hands though his locs.

Finally he whipped around and stabbed a finger at you, “Don’t you get it! I like you! I really really like you! More than anyone else. More than any other woman.” Erik said, “But you aren’t supposed to like me like this. You are a good woman. You shouldn't like me like this.”

“Erik, you ever think maybe a “good woman” as you like you call me, should be able to understand what you’ve been through. Or at least try.”

“But that’s it. You shouldn’t want to.”

“But that’s what it means to care about someone!”

Erik stopped and stared at you.

You looked at him and it dawned on you.

Erik Stevens had no idea what it looked like when someone cared about him. Sure he had his family but that was a different kind of care. And from his stories even that took awhile to reach the relationship he had with them. But Erik had no idea how to deal with the care of a woman. You knew that he had slept around countless and in all those years you doubted that any of those woman genuinely cared to know about who Erik really was.

You looked away once before returning your eyes bore into him. You kept your voice soft as you utter your question, “Would it be better for you if I hated you?”  

As you half expected and half hoped, Erik looked panic stricken, “No!” he cried looking at you but looking through you. He shook his head, “No, not that. I wouldn't…..I couldn't….”

He was aware that he was babbling but couldn’t be aware enough to curse himself for it.

You slowly walked towards him reaching out to touch him hoping your touch would calm him down.

“Look at me.” your voice was firm.

Erik stilled and looked down at you.

“I don’t hate you. I like you. I really, really like you, too.” You dropped your gaze as you ran your hand over his scars.

“They don’t hurt?” you asked.

“Nah, it long stopped being painful.”

You nodded. You could feel the heavy stare of Erik as he watched you. Slowly he reached his hand up to grip your shoulder. His grip was loose, hesitant.

“You ain’t scared?” he asked.

The corner of your mouth quirked, “What do I have to be scared about?” You murmured before looking up at him, “You are still Erik Stevens. And you forget….would I have agree to be your woman unless I liked you too?”

You were pleased to see a teasing quirk on Erik’s lips. Hesitantly his hands dropped to your waist before snaking around. Still his hold was very loose almost so that you could move back if you wanted to. Instead you moved closer. This seemed to give him permission to wrap his arm around you a little tighter.

“I just feel sorry that you felt you couldn't tell me this sooner. You didn't have to suffer all this time over it.” you murmured reaching up to touch his cheek.

“You know you don’t have to hide from me, Erik.” you added after a moment.

Erik couldn’t seem to get a grasp on his emotions. Emotions that no one else had manage to stir quite like you. He opened his mouth and found that no words came out. So he did the next best think. He leaned down and captured your lips. He tried his hardest to convey what he couldn’t seem to with words hoping you would understand.

Pulling back he murmured, “What I said. I didn’t mean it. Of all things, I didn’t mean that.”

You looked amused,” Are you trying to apologize? Perhaps say I’m sorry?”

Erik only twitched once, “Something like that.”

“I don’t accept something like that.”

Erik looked down at you, “Make things so difficult…..”

“Well…..”

It took Erik several times before he could utter the words, “I’m......sorry.”

You beamed, “Apology accepted but you gotta understand something and quick.” Here you glared up at him, “I don’t have to be here, let’s get that straight right now.”

Erik felt something stabbed him but he managed not to open his mouth as you continued, “I want to be of my own violation but not because I have to. I won’t put up with a man screaming in obscenities in my face because he’s have a bad day.  Or acting like he might put his hands on me. You know you can come talk to me but I’m only going to let you push me so far before I walk out that door. You get that right?”

Erik nodded.

“Alright, you better come correct. Like I said. I ain’t gonna stage some foolishness with you. You might be used to woman fighting with you but I ain’t the one.”  

Erik felt his heart stuttered as he licked his lips, dark eyes on you, “Aight, least give me room to mess up.”

You sigh exasperated fondly, “Erik I didn't say you had to be perfect. No one is. I’m saying there is a certain amount of bull that I will deal with.”  

You hit his chest playfully, “Stick around and you’ll learn the boundaries soon/fast enough.”

You were glad to see the tension drain from his shoulders at your words. Erik smirked, “So you plan to keep me around?”

You could still see the linger of doubt in his eyes.

You stepped out of his arms and said flippantly, “Naturally, if you act like you got some sense.”  You grinned then, locking your hands behind your back.

Erik rolled his eyes. “You something else, ma.”

“So are you, Erik.”

“N’Jadaka…..”

You furrowed your eyebrow and looked up at him, “Pardon?”

“My birth name. The name my father gave me. N’Jadaka.”

You gazed into his dark eyes and could see him waiting with baited breath. So you smiled gently, “Okay….N’Jadaka…..”

N’Jadaka cocked his head once and gave you a smoldering look. You held it a moment before turning away. He turned your chin back, his voice husky as he said, “Say it again for me, ma.”

“N’Jadaka…” your breathed.

“I like the sound of that”, Erik murmured.

He knew then that he would do everything in his power to hear it for a long, long time….

He knew then you were special.

[andorknuckles]

So, because I’m obsessive I decided to stretch out the partially visible pixels in the blurred Smash Ultimate update...

They’re not perfect, but they do help to paint a better picture of just what’s coming. Discussion below the cut.

Now, the most common speculation for the first image is, of course, that it’s a form of Stage Builder.

A menu on the left with the selected item highlighted in yellow, and a test/save button on the bottom right, with the rest all being a view of the stage. It’s very plausible, and has been discussed at length by others, so I won’t be going over it in much more detail, but I will list the objectively observable evidence that points in its favor, such that those can be used when discussing other possibilities.

There is no dashboard: In Smash Ultimate, a black dashboard fills 10% of the screen when exploring the game’s upper menus. While this is present in Screenshot 2, it isn’t visible here, which would point towards the idea that this is either in-game, or in a menu that is too big or expansive to work with the dashboard, as is seen with the Character Select Screen. A Stage Builder is on the more resource intensive side of things, so it’s only logical for the Dashboard to be left out.

There are no visible characters, or character HUD elements. This would point towards it not being an ingame screenshot of a new stage or battle mode. However, one possibility is that the lower right yellow blob is an unconventional display for a character’s health, though yellow is not a colour one typically sees in a Smash Bros. display.

The white and yellow on the right is rather unprecedented. It’s highly unlikely to be a scroll bar, given that Smash already has a standardised scroll bar used in every other menu. This means it is most likely some kind of menu, or the HUD element of a game mode.

The bottom right yellow ‘button’ is consistent with many other buttons in the game, including the dark patch on the left, which is likely blurred together from the black on the button and the blue from the background.

In short, what we know is...

1) This is not a standard menu 2) This is not from a conventional game display 3) There is some sort of display or menu on the left hand side 4) There’s a button or other display on the bottom right side

From those, I’ll try and construct as many potential explanations as possible.

1. Tower-ascent side-game

This one’s a very loose idea, but in theory, the left side bar could be a marker used to show how far up a ‘tower’ the player is, while the ‘button’ on the bottom right is where the player’s % is displayed, rather than in the center as it usually is, likely so that enemies and hazards coming from directly below are easier to spot. However, the idea requires one to make lots of assumptions about what certain information is meant to be, ones that aren’t facilitated by currently known information.

2. Home-Run Contest

I think this one counts as wishful thinking. The idea of a back-wall for the Home-Run Contest makes enough sense (the yellow part could just be a giant yellow 🚫), but the colours aren’t ones that would be especially effective for the mode, as a white platform wouldn’t work very well when displayed alongside the Sandbag. Additionally, while maintaining thematic consistency isn’t necessarily going to happen, all previous Home-Run Contests have taken place in a stadium, not what appears to be an open field. Additionally, the perspective required to make this visual work is all wrong.

3. A DLC Character stage

This one doesn’t need a diagram, since the stage could potentially look like anything. If this is a stage, it’s most likely a Persona 5 stage, or the stage for the next DLC character. However, Persona 5 is far more visually distinct than this stage, usually displaying either lots of colours, or striking amounts of colour contrast, making the odds of it being a Persona 5 stage highly unlikely. While aa stage could be derived from a different Shin Megami Tensei game, those tend to be similarly distinct in terms of visuals.

If it’s a stage for one of the two commonly ‘leaked’ Square Enix characters, one feels fairly probable as a candidate to have a fairly generic stage, while the other doesn’t.

(After writing this Joker’s stage sorta leaked, and so things are even less likely to be his stage)

4. Trophy Rush

This one doesn’t really need a diagram either, for what little information would be displayed in the mode. As someone who greatly enjoyed this mode, I’d appreciate seeing it back, but I feel like there’s not much call for it, as the only collectibles in the game already have plenty of ways to obtain them. At least it’s not Coin Launcher. Ostensibly the bar on the left here would be some kind of gauge or countdown.

5. Poke Floats

Not that bad of a theory, but it fails to account for the bar on the left, and even with my best efforts, I couldn’t make a layout that I felt best represented all of the colours we could see. It’s also not the kind of thing I could see being advertised as a ‘feature’. It would make sense to try and bring back such a popular level and modernise it with new Pokemon, but while I wouldn’t rule it out as a possibility, I feel like that idea and this image are a round peg and an octagonal hole. It just doesn’t quite fit.

6. Board the Platforms/Break the Targets

The only evidence I’ve seen given to this is that the bar on the left could show how many platforms/targets are left, with the yellow being a boarded/broken one. I personally think that’s UI overkill.

Overall, I stand by the Stage Builder idea the most. However, when it comes to the other picture, there’s no single idea I see as standing above the rest in terms of likelihood, and in turn, I’ve not seen many suggestions for it. The community seems pretty stumped, but I’m going to go ahead and analyse what I’ve seen suggested, as well as my own spitballing.

Before I do, though, I want to go over some of the elements of this image first.

There is a dashboard: Unmistakable, that black bar on the right is most certainly the dashboard menu. It covers the right amount of screen space, and it’s a very safe assumption to make.

There is a coloured bar across the top: While there’s been some debate as to whether it’s an orange or red bar (it’s likely the brightness has been fiddled with to further confuse the image’s intention), it’s almost certainly one of the coloured bars that often decorates the top of certain menus in Smash Ultimate’s menus. However, most of these menus display these bars at a slant that gets very thin at one side, which would lead one to expect the visual to get a lot lighter towards the right side of the screen. That said, there are exceptions, such as in the options menu or the Tourney display, so it’s possible this is just another exception. The implication of this is that this menu is either under Online (if orange) or Smash (if red). From my edits, it appears more orange, though the original image is easier to see as red.

There are a loooooot of different colours, and they don’t seem to line up to any particular shape, making it very difficult to make an educated guess.

1. Character Editor

Starting out with the alleged leak that I heard while making this analysis. The rumour goes that the player will be able to create their own colour palettes for each of the game’s characters. The details on this are unclear, but for simplicity’s sake I choose to assume that players will be able to select various specific parts of a character’s body (Mario’s hat, buttons, or shoes, for example), and apply a colour to it.

This has a number of things going for it, moreso from design elements found outside of this image.

Firstly, it would explain why there are so many wildly conflicting colours in the image if the player is applying multiple different colours to a character’s model

This has been the first Smash game to take extra time to load in character colours on the character select screen. While this could be chalked up to the game having to load in almost 800 renders, it’s also possible that this is simply something that’s been designed to account for additional (possibly unlimited) extra costumes.

The added ability to select costumes by hitting A over your character portrait is mildly convenient (after everything has loaded), but it does seem slightly unnecessary. If the idea is to be prepared for when players are able to select from dozens of character costumes, this would make sense.

Additionally, the character colours are all labeled. But even in cases of split characters like Alph or the Koopalings, the label names are simply “Color 1″ through to “Color 8″. It really doesn’t make any sense to add these labels when they’re not going to add anything informative, so all they end up doing is filling up space, and forcing the stock icons to cover up some of the portrait. This in particular bodes well for this theory.

The recently datamined information on Joker having a special 8th costume would line up well with this, if the idea is that players will be able to freely add their own versions of that costume.

However, various things also go against this theory.

The bar up the top indicates this is a mode in Smash or Online, when such a character editor would probably be in Games & More (blue), Vault (Magenta, which this could just be a corruption of), or Options (purple).

It’s hard to make out any one specific character who is being modified, one would at least be able to see some elements that add up to a visible character in some shape or form, even if they were radically re-coloured.

The dashboard doesn’t appear in any parts of the game where a character model is being rendered. While it’s possible that the visual used for this mode is the character’s render instead, that seems somewhat dubious since one would likely want to see what they’re making.

Overall, it’s a solid idea, but more for what’s been seen on the character select screen than this image.

2. Additional Challenges

It would explain the eclectic colours, and the bar on the right is in order, but the colours at the top and bottom don’t match those of the blurred screenshot, regardless of what page of Challenges the player is on. The only way for this one to work would be if the intent is to add a special page to Challenges, one that has a different overall design to the rest. (Daily Challenges? Super Challenges?)

3. Destiny Islands stage

Now here’s a viewpoint I’m hard pressed to debunk, and that’s mostly because the idea here is that the image above is a screenshot of the stage within some kind of announcement display. We haven’t gotten any new stages yet, so having them get descriptions of some sort isn’t impossible, it’s just that it doesn’t strike me as likely. Additionally, aside from the blue of the water, most of the colours seem out of place.

4. Smash Run 2

Eh, it’s not impossible, just not a game mode that plays to the Switch’s strengths. Specifically that doing Smash in split-screen would likely be very taxing on the system’s resources, especially with all the enemies they’d be displaying. One possible explanation is that playing the mode requires multiple Switches (either online or locally), and so the orange bar could be explained that way. The dashboard only being there because the screenshot is of the mode’s submenu or explanation.

Overall I don’t think this is especially likely, as such a mode would absolutely require an exorbitant amount of development time, and so for it to release in spring, the bulk of it would need to be finished before release, and there’s simply no indication that such a thing has been worked on in the game’s data.

Overall, it’s hard to say for certain just what this second image is. Personally I lean in the direction of it being an additional online mode, mostly because of the orange bar, and due to the odd layout of buttons on the online menu that seems to indicate there’s more to come (as seen in my mockup):

When it comes right down to it, however, this kind of speculation is fun, and I’m so very glad the development team gave us something to pore over as we await the next batch of content. I’ve personally always felt that an ARG is a great way to keep fans invested in upcoming information, and this is possibly the closest Smash has ever gotten to one.

[thejokersenigma]

Joker (Arkham City) x Reader - Prologue - Arkham City

Ok this is an idea I’ve had in my head for a while and have sort of roughly written down the first few chapters for and a few other ideas as to where to take it...

Thought I’d just try and get this bit out to see what people’s feelings on it would be.... (No Joker in this bit I’m afraid!) I know the last thing I need is another series, but when I get the urge to write and idea I try to jump on it haha

Be interested as to whether you’d want to

1. See more of this

2. This to be a reader or OC story

3. If you want it in first person, second person or third person.

Thank you in advance for those who leave comments! x

WARNING: Some violence

MAIN MASTERLIST

The familiar harsh alarm sounded overhead, the rotating lights casting a red hue over the concrete room as the heavy metal door slid open along its railing.

Four men – judging by the number of voices that could be heard down the dark corridor – seemed to be making their way up the from the depths of the compound and seemed to be the cause for the door’s alarm.

“- Penguin lost this round though.” One voice was saying.

“Bet the Joker was pleased.” Another one observed.

“Bet Cobblepot wasn’t.”

“You think he’ll actually stick to his own rules?”

“Fat chance.” Someone guffawed.

“It’s gonna be a blood bath.” Another muttered gravelly.

“And we’re gonna have front seats.” One of the men cackled, and then they were laughing a cruel merciless laugh that bounced off the concrete walls.

At this point they were close to the now-open doorway, the alarm - still spinning, though its siren had now muted – illuminated them in red. There were indeed four of them, all of equal size and wearing similar armoured uniforms, two of them leading the way in front - guns cradled in their arms though they showed no signs of thinking they might need them – and another two following on behind hauling something of reasonable weight between them.

What this weighty object was became clearer when the first two armoured guards finally stepped through into the relatively small room beyond, and then moved to either side of the doorway to allow the other two men to enter with the body they carried.

It was a girl – unconscious or dead by the limp way she hung – that was now dragged forward. She was suspended only by the guard’s arms hooked under her own, her ankles scrapping lifelessly across the rough concrete underfoot until they pulled her to a stop in the centre of the room.

A cold wintery gale blew through the wall opposite made up of enforced metal bars. The street beyond was bleak and dark, the overcast sky just visible between the roof of the compound’s overhang and the buildings behind.

“Bitch still outta it?” A figure in front of the bars asked gruffly, nodding to the girl. He was slightly bigger than the other guards – possibly owing to the added armour he seemed to sport – and his uniform was accented with bright orange unlike the other’s blue. He had been waiting impatiently for them, and he wasn’t about to linger any longer. Even with his extra padding, the frost still bit at him.

“Yes, sir.” The guard furthest to the right, answered obediently.

“Her funeral.” The large guard muttered, turning now to the door in the bars behind him, eager to get this done so he could return to the depths of the compound and the limited heat it provided. It wasn’t warm there by any means – hard to heat concrete - but it felt a damn site better after being stood out here.

“Yeah,” One of the men guffawed again in agreement, his breath curling visibly in front of him, “Remember what happened to the last chick?” He laughed, “- Barely took two steps ‘fore they got ‘er!” He cackled like this was the funniest thing in the world. “Found the body in an alley day later - barely recognise ‘er!” He claimed.

Some of the men smirked at this, others remained sober. “She’d better ‘ave a good pair o’ legs on ‘er.” The man on the right of the girl agreed, glancing down at his burden. “Or not,” He admitted with a shrug.

“All the more entertainment for us if she keeps going though!” One of the other men pointed out with a wink to the rest.

“Hate when they just disappear.” Agreed another guy, “’s like when ya favourite TV show gets cancelled!” He grinned.

“Strange ain’t gonna wanna waste his time on this one.” The larger guard informed them in a bored tone, ending their jeering as he punched in the code onto a number pad by the door. The gate beep at the successful combination, then the lock sprung open and he yanked the door open. He might not appreciate the men’s gossiping, but they were right, and both he and Strange knew it – the girl would be dead before dawn.

The opening of the door seemed to be a signal for the other guards to now walk forward with their quarry, pausing just before the door when the higher man held up a gloved hand. He stepped in front of the girl, studying her for a moment, before abruptly pulling back an arm and striking her with a sharp slap to the cheek, snapping her eyes open.

“Morning, my dear.” The man leered down at her. “You’d best be thanking me for that – least now ya stand a shred of chance...” He muttered cruelly before taking a step back again and gestured for the other guards to continue on.

They obeyed without question, hauling the girl forward again. She made several attempts to scramble to her feet – to offer some resistance against the men, or at the very least stop her raw ankles being scraped along the floor any further - but her legs were almost completely numb, and the guards offered her no aid.

She was escorted the short distance to the doorway and then shoved roughly through and out onto the damp street beyond, easily losing her balance without their support and collapsing to her hands and knees on the rough tarmac.

“Welcome home!”

“Hope you know how to run!”

The shout and jeers behind her were followed by a chorus of malicious chuckles as a loud clang of metal telling the girl that the door she had just been pushed through had now been firmly closed on her back, trapping her out here on the street.

She flicked her head up to shift the hair that had fallen over her face, glancing around her immediate surroundings to gain some sort of bearings.

I might have still been slightly dazed from whatever had happened to me – and confused about a lot of things – but I was under no illusion as to where I was as I stared up at the dark metal arch that towered over me, the emblem of Arkham City outlined hauntingly against the grey sky.

Tags for Everything: @thatwriterizzy @beautifulbows924 @sheldonsherlocktony @arkhamsurviour @wanna-see-my-lease @minahraven @angelicshinigami

Tags for Joker: @sonyandsam @ivefeltthiswaybefore @inoke @molethemollie

[kbstories]

I tried my hand at some Mass Effect fic!

Summary: A mission confronts Shepard with his worst nightmare. Garrus and Wrex realize that even Shepard has his limits. (Chapter 1 of 2)

Set in Mass Effect 1 during the mission on Elodus. Warning for PTSD and one brief mention of past suicidal thoughts.

Read on AO3!

Shepard should have known.

The Mako's engine revved up as its wheels hit heavy silt, the rocky hills of Elodus giving way to the smooth desert-like expanse of a plateau, devoid of any living being and Shepard should have known.

He'd been listening to Garrus and Wrex bicker over their choice weaponry in the back, letting the now-familiar chatter on the com link wash over him as he focused on getting them to the structure on the distant horizon in one piece. Questionable driving skills aside, the Mako was still a handful to handle but he was getting better at it.

At least that's what Joker had assured him, with minimal smirking. Shepard'd take what he could get.

A dot on the radar marked their goal, blinking, getting steadily closer. Shepard kept glancing at it, trusting the device over the bland landscape around them, something about it setting his teeth on edge. There was no movement to be seen.

“– am I right, Shepard?”

“Oh now you're playing dirty.”

Shepard turned his head with a highly eloquent “Huh?” – judging by his squadmate's deadpan expressions, they'd both been counting on his opinion to win whatever argument they're having.

Wrex stepped forward, a grin tugging at his scarred face. “Just say biotics are superior. Nothing like bursting into battle head-first.”

Before Shepard could go beyond raising an eyebrow, Garrus shook his head sharply, clicking his tongue. “And get yourself killed, you mean? Be my guest – I can shoot well enough for the two of us.”

“See, that's the problem with you Turians. Always relying on tech to get the job done.”

Wrex laughed, Garrus bristled, Shepard prepared himself to interrupt–

And the Mako went flying, ripped off the ground as if it weighed nothing at all. Warning lights flashed, equipment shook loose, clanking, metal on metal – all the air in Shepard's lungs left him in a rush of gravity and vertigo; the belts keeping him in his seat dug into him hard enough to bruise but that was the furthest thing on his mind as they came down with a heavy crunch.

Finally the pressure on his chest lessened, a weak “Fuck” making it past Shepard's lips as the world settled around him, upside-down. Trembling hands searched and found the clasp holding everything together and once it was gone, he spilled on the roof like a box of tools turned on its head.

“Garrus!”, he coughed, picking himself up, straining his eyes to see in the sudden darkness around him. “Wrex!”

Someone groaned to his right, “Present. You alive, Krogan?”, and further away: “'m here. I thought you're getting better at this shit, Shepard.”

Ignoring the jab, Shepard's first instinct was to hail the Normandy. Static. Figures. Only local access, then. He readjusted the fit of his helmet before following the nearby wall with glove-covered hands until he hit the door, then started pushing against it. It didn't budge. Behind him: shuffling steps and the distinct sound of a new magazine sliding into place.

Garrus huffed. “Looks like we'll get to test that theory of yours sooner rather than later.”

The ground rumbled, swallowing Wrex's answering quip and shaking the downed Mako enough that Shepard practically felt every bone in his body rattle with it – and a dawning realization made his pulse spike, blood running cold with the instant panic rising within him.

Because he recognized this feeling. It's the same that haunted him in his dreams, the same that had announced the beginning of the end all those years ago.

Shepard should have known.

Power gathered at the palm of his hands and before Shepard could think about it, the door exploded with a blast of biotic energy. “Move!”, he yelled over his shoulder, barely waiting long enough for his squad to make it outside; Shepard turned and threw up a shield just in time to hold off the worst of the debris bursting around them.

“What is that?”, he heard Garrus growl, saw him and Wrex pointing their guns at the phantom hidden in sand and dust out of the corner of his eye–

Shepard didn't need to look. He reached out, grabbed and jerked Garrus' rifle down, “We gotta get out of here”, he said hoarsely, darkness dancing at the edge of his vision, drained from his biotics or fear or both yet adrenaline still sang in his blood, kept him going.

There's no time to check the look in Garrus' eyes, the flash of confusion and indignation enough for Shepard to know retreat was the last thought on the Turian's mind, no time for careful strategy, for second-guessing.

“We have to run”, Shepard repeated, louder over Wrex's angry “What?!” – and Garrus yielded, just as a high-pitched shriek pierced the very air around them–

And for the first time since Akuze, Shepard stares into the opened jaws of a Thresher Maw.

It all goes to hell faster than Garrus can blink.

Suddenly, they're running. Garrus is dimly aware of the insistant tug of Shepard's hand clamped around his arm, of the blurred blue of biotic shields building and falling around them, of Shepard's strained pants over the com link. Wrex is only a few paces behind them, a mass of reds and browns and seething rage, cursing under his breath so colorfully Garrus' translator chip simply gives up.

Their boots sink into loose sand with every step, burning the energy they could put into standing their ground and fighting instead. Garrus chances a glance at Shepard, wishing he could see his face beyond his helmet but the glimpse he gets makes his gut drop.

Whatever that thing is: It made Shepard, vanguard fighting machine Shepard, bail instantly. That alone makes the soldier in Garrus swallow his doubts and follow his lead.

It seems to have the opposite effect on Wrex. They bypass a formation of jagged rocks – perfect for cover, Garrus can't help but think sullenly – and the Krogan's patience snaps. “What the hell, Shepard?!”, he bellows, breaking a path through the sand like it's the front line of a hostile army. Shepard says nothing.

A few paces are spent in silence, alerting Garrus to the sudden lull around them; looking back, he sees the worm... creature is gone, the horizon once again plain, unassuming dust. Garrus feels Shepard's grip on him tighten. He noticed it too.

“Not yet”, he hears him mumble, almost to himself, “not yet.”

Then the very desert under their feet trembles, shifts, breaks apart–

“Wrex, shields!”

–and Shepard's words start making a lot more sense. Even with two people fueling it, the biotic field around them shudders visibly, flickering out after a second or two – enough to get them out of the immediate blast zone, if just so.

Gaze turned skywards, Garrus's heart almost stops as the creature towers over them. He's never seen anything like it on Palaven. Does it even have eyes? All he can make out is it's huge jaws, gaping and empty and dripping with–

Garrus acts on pure instinct. Diving for his squadmates, he tackles Shepard to the ground and makes Wrex stumble, too; a spurt of clear liquid flies over their heads, close enough that a few droplets land on Garrus' back.

He doesn't pay attention to the burning sensation running up his spine, doesn't stop to worry about the dazed way Shepard's crawling back on his feet – Garrus grabs his Commander, throws him over his shoulder and runs, trusting Wrex to follow.

No matter his previous grievances with Krogans: they can take more hits than anyone in a brawl. Even if that brawl includes a hundred-foot monster in the middle of the desert.

The enraged screeches of it only spur Garrus on. He can feel Shepard struggle in his tight grip, hissing at him to “calm down, Commander” as respectfully as he can; “there”, Shepard snaps back, gloved hand pointing past Garrus' head to the left where the slopes of a mountain range meet sand.

“The mountains, huh?”, he hears Wrex's gruff voice behind them. “Keep going, I'll keep that acid shit off of you!”

Protest is halfway out Garrus' mouth yet it's Shepard who goes ballistic, biotics running hot enough that Garrus can feel it through his armor.

“No! Wrex–“

Wrex bares his teeth, “Shepard”, full of warning.

“Do not engage. That's an order!”

A glob of acid splashes on the ground. Garrus side-steps it in the last moment. “Can we save our asses first and then talk about details?”

“Just trust me”, Shepard growls. Wrex doesn't reply.

They don't stop until their boots hit rock.

Shepard slides off Garrus' shoulder the moment they do, all kinds of dizzy and disoriented, waving away Garrus' attempts to steady him. What he needs right now is solid ground under his feet and some space to think.

His hands are trembling.

The panic he's been holding back since the Mako is a tight coil in his chest, slowly spreading out. Not yet. He can feel the others' eyes on him, painfully aware how weak he must seem to them: This is not the Commander Shepard we know, he can almost hear them think.

The memory of his therapist is blurry, one vague face among many by now but he still remembers her calming tone of voice. Breathe. Shepard does. Forces his back straight, balls his hands to fists.

His amp port is numb with pain. He'll deal with that later.

“Shepard.”

He closes his eyes in the privacy of his helmet. “Wrex”, he sighs, turns around to face him.

Wrex looks like he's doing some holding back of his own, cracking his neck, shifting weight, crossing his arms. “Care to explain?”, is what he comes up with, jaws tight.

Shepard rarely sees him so... fidgety. It's clear he's furious – having to back down from a fight does that to a Krogan – yet Wrex listened to his orders when it counted the most, and Shepard knows he owes him for that.

So he nods, “Yeah”, calls Garrus' over from his silent watch over the horizon. A sudden chill runs down Shepard's back as he's reminded why that might be necessary. Threshers rarely hunt outside their territory, however, and Shepard counts on that fact now just as he did during their rushed escape.

They make themselves comfortable on a nearby slab of rock; Shepard sits down heavily while Wrex paces. Garrus stands to his right, a steady presence in the corner of his vision. He's tinkering with something – his com link, Shepard recognizes with a quick glance.

No more distractions. His squad deserves to know the truth.

“Six years ago I lead my first mission for the Alliance.”

His words are hesitant, and Shepard hates himself for it, hates the fact that what should've been a cornerstone of his career is the reason he can't wear the title of Commander with pride. He stares ahead and sees the arid planes of Akuze, hears the hushed conversations of his marines around him.

“We'd lost contact to one of our colonies and my unit was sent to investigate. Found the settlement empty, colonists gone yet no bodies, no sign of violence... So I told 'em to set up camp in the dunes. No point in searching at night, right?”

A mirthless chuckle catches in Shepard's throat. Wrex's gaze is on him. Shepard holds it for a long moment.

“That's when those things attacked. Woke up to complete chaos around me, made it out in time to see them just... tearing the camp apart.” Wringing his hands, the dry noise of plating on fabric distracts Shepard from the memories that bubble up like bile. He looks down, swallows heavily around the lump in his throat.

“The smell, the– the screaming, I'll never forget it. Went through a unit of fifty marines like it's nothin' and we didn't even know what hit us. Never encountered Thresher Maws before so we didn't know about the acid and, well.”

Others might've been forgotten but Shepard remembers every name, every face of the squad that set foot on Akuze with him. Writing the condolence letters had taken weeks. It was the only way to honor them for their sacrifice.

Shepard exhales slowly.

“Turns out they don't follow you forever. Dragged myself to the LZ and got the hell out of there... I was the only one who made it back.”

Wrex has stopped pacing and even Garrus is motionless. There's more he could tell them: of the months and years he spent wishing he'd died with them, how much he hated it to be hailed as a hero for his biggest failure.

In the end, Shepard settles for: “Doesn't matter if we could've taken that thing on. I won't let it happen again.”

Then he falls silent, out of words to say. The silence stretches on, lingers – follows them persistent as a shadow as they board the Normandy hours later. Shepard goes through his post-mission duties on autopilot: skips the med bay by pointing Dr. Chakwas towards Garrus, writes up his report, takes heat from the Alliance brass for losing the Mako. The three migrane pills he's dry-swallowed knock him out eventually.

Hours later he gasps awake with the afterimage of melting flesh and torn limbs burned into his eyes. He spends the rest of the night puking his guts out, the bathroom door firmly locked behind him.

To be continued

[AO3 Link]

[angstgremlin]

Date Night

Pairing(s): McHanzo

Rating: T for language, Alchohol, A Bar Fight

Summary: Jesse and Hanzo just want to go on a proper date for once, that's all. It doesn't go quite as planned.

Read on Ao3

Author’s Note: I wrote this just because I liked the mental image of Hanzo throwing someone through a table during a bar fight.

~Tip me with Tea~

“Baby, don’tcha think it’s a lil’ fucked up we ain’t ever had a proper date?”

Hanzo turns to blink at McCree, taking his eyes off of the politician they are supposed to be watching. Both men had been deployed to the gala they were attending for the sole purpose of escorting said politician. Nothing so far had happened at least, and it was nearing the end of the night, so McCree had taken the opportunity to broach the subject. Hanzo was less likely to grouse and get grumpy with Jesse for the distraction when it was apparent nothing was going to occur.

So Jesse takes the opportunity to sweep at their surroundings in a grand gesture, “I mean, look at all o’ this, Babydoll. All this glitz an’ glam. Hell, I’m in a tux, Sugar, we both are. You’re lookin’ mighty fine, by the way, don’t think I told ya. But the point stands, darlin’. A tux. I could be dancin’ with ya, sweep ya offa your feet like a proper gentleman like I shoulda done a long time ago. But we’re workin’.” Jesse’s got the sense to keep his rant to at least Hanzo’s hearing range, so the archer lets his lover continue with raised eyebrows. “An’ the museum last time? We worked then too. I don’t think you an’ I have ever been offa base together for anythin’ but missions. Ever.”

Jesse certainly expects to be scolded, but Hanzo’s face is surprisingly considering as the archer takes a glance at their surroundings while he processes his lover’s words. Eventually, Hanzo flicks his gaze back up to Jesse’s.

“You’re right.” Hanzo even drifts closer to Jesse, wraps an arm around Jesse’s and lets his head rest on his cowboy-in-a-tux’s shoulder, “We’ve taken very few opportunities for… us.”

“This mean you’ll let me take ya out somewhere?” Jesse dips a little so he can kiss Hanzo’s cheek quickly before resting his head on Hanzo’s, the corner of Jesse’s mouth lifting when Hanzo nuzzles against him, “Like… ta a cute little cafe?”

“I would be incredibly disappointed if there was no coffee shop involved.” Hanzo points out, “Admittedly, I’ve never gone on a proper date before.”

“Now that’s a tragedy and a half.” Jesse laments, “I’ll haveta find the cutest little cafe close enough to the base ta take ya to.”

“A bar would also suffice.” Hanzo admits, “You promised to take me to your favourite one in Gibraltar when we first started seeing each other.”

“I did, didn’t I?”

Hanzo smiles knowingly up at Jesse, “Indeed. Perhaps we can go once we return home.”

The mission itself doesn’t take much longer, with Jesse and Hanzo escorting the politician they were babysitting all night back into the hands of their personal bodyguards. Once the politician is under the watch of their bodyguards, it’s time for Hanzo and Jesse to head home. There’s always a lull between missions, since Overwatch in the meantime is essentially acting like mercenaries for hire, so it’s not long before Jesse and Hanzo come up with a plan for a date night in the nearest town to the Watchpoint.

Something had come up with Genji right before they left for the bar though, so Hanzo told Jesse he would catch up to him, which leads to Jesse sitting at the bar nursing bourbon while waiting for his Honey. It’s a quiet night at least, which he’s grateful for. The less drunks he and Hanzo have to deal with the better, Jesse’s had enough of that for a while with the last few missions involving escorting rich snobs with too much alcohol in their systems.

Jesse’s in the middle of pondering if this establishment he enjoys so much carries sake for Hanzo when the door swings open and a group of five men enter. At first Jesse pays them no mind since they’re clearly not Hanzo but when they bully the handful of other patrons out of the bar it gets his attention. Soon it’s only them, him, and the barkeep who is looking between them all nervously. Two of the men move to block the entrances and three approach Jesse’s table. Naturally, that’s when the gentlemen pull their weapons out, all aimed at Jesse.

“Can I help you fellas?” Jesse asks, nonchalantly pulling a cigarillo out from a pocket and lighting it. He takes a long drag and levels his gaze at the men, “You’re ruinin’ a perfectly good night.”

“We’ll be havin’ a perfect night ourselves when we take you in. You’ve got a lot of zeroes on your head, Mr. McCree.”

The tallest and broader built of the strangers is the one who speaks, and Jesse figures he’s the fella running this impromptu bounty hunt. Well, it’s certainly put a damper on his plans. Jesse’s phone suddenly dings from where he’s set it on the table, a message from Hanzo. On way, it reads, ETA is about two minutes. See you soon, my love. Jesse can’t hide the smirk on his face if he tries.

“Well, y’all are welcome to try,” Jesse says amiably, grinning, “but let me let ya in on a little secret. I got a Honey all my own an’ he’s gonna be fit ta kill if he sees y’all causin’ trouble an’ ruinin’ our plans.”

“Sure,” the little hunting party’s ring leader spits, “An’ I’m the bloody Queen of England.”

Jesse leans back, smug grin as his cigarillo is held smoldering between his metal fingers and he takes a swig of bourbon, “Pleased ta meet ya, your Majesty.”

The man is not pleased in the slightest with Jesse’s sass, and makes to step threateningly towards the indifferent outlaw, pointedly cocking his gun and leveling it between Jesse’s eyes, “I would stop being smart, if I was you.”

“You really don’t know what you’re gettin’ inta if you ask me of all people ta stop bein’ smart.” Jesse remains unfazed, even with the gun in his face. It’s not the first time he’s had firearms shoved in his face, and it won’t be his last, “How about you start bein’ smart an’ leave before I put a bullet between your eyes. An’ believe me, that would be more humane then lettin’ my Honey get at you. You should wanna leave before my Honey arrives. He ain’t as nice ‘bout these things as me.”

“You’re lyin’, I know you work alone.” The gun is shoved further in Jesse’s face, and Jesse’s more concerned the barkeep will be shot if this joker won’t stop waving it around. “You got ten seconds to put your gun on the table and leave with us, or we’ll shoot you and drag you out.”

Jesse purses his lips for a second, pretends to mull it over in his head before he takes a long drag of his cigarillo and blows the smoke into the man threatening him with the gun’s face, “How ‘bout you go fuck yourself?”

The man is red in the face with anger, and his finger starts to twitch on the trigger. Jesse just calmly stares him down all the while, resting the bourbon he’s been nursing this entire time on the table. The man and Jesse’s little showdown is interrupted all of a sudden by a concise, polite knock on the main door of the bar. Jesse’s smile widens as the men exchange confused looks right before the door is kicked in entirely, the man guarding it nearly flattened by the impact of it.

Jesse himself uses the distraction provided to throw back his bourbon before promptly tugging the man in front of him closer by the arm and smashing the glass over his head. While it doesn’t knock the man out, it staggers him and makes him drop the gun, which Jesse kicks away.

“Hey Sweetheart, you’re just in time!” Jesse calls to Hanzo, his beloved archer currently roundhouse kicking one of the remaining four men in the face, “You always knew how ta make an entrance! Man after my own heart.”

Hanzo glances over to Jesse briefly with a raised eyebrow before he’s kicking one of the heavy oak tables over to block a shot from one of the remaining three men. Jesse takes the opportunity to head-butt the ringleader of the hunting party in the nose. He follows it up by kneeing the man in the gut then bringing the elbow of his prosthetic down on the man’s head.

When that finally knocks the man out Jesse huffs out, “Thick headed jackass.”

There’s a half full bottle of whiskey on the table next to Jesse that he scoops up, just as Hanzo sends a man flying into that particular table. The wood splinters under the thug’s weight and sends it all crashing down. Jesse finally draw’s Peacekeeper, only to flip her to grip her by the muzzle in order to pistol whip the man as he tries to get up from the ruins of the table. There’s two men left, and Jesse’s pretty sure he can see the realization hit them both at the exact same time that they bit off way more then they could chew in coming after him.

The call of all those zeroes on Jesse’s head is too much for one of them, it seems, because he’s lifting a pistol of his own to shoot at Jesse. Too bad Jesse’s faster, and the next second sees the man yowling in pain and clutching his hand from Jesse shooting the gun out of his grip. Hanzo takes the opportunity to swing at the man and knock him right out.

Both Hanzo and Jesse round on the last man standing, who promptly drops his gun and points at the mastermind of their bounty hunting team writhing on the floor half conscious, “It was his idea.”

Hanzo’s stomping over to the man before Jesse can stop him, and he yanks the fellow by the collar so he’s forced to look the furious archer in the eye. “You will take the mercy we’ve shown you,” Hanzo grits out to the terrified man, “and remove your friends from the premises when they come to. If there is ever another threat to my Jesse, you will be dealing not only with me, but with them.”

To prove his point, Hanzo pulls up his left sleeve, crackles of blue writhing along the ink of his tattoo before the very visible ethereal form of a dragon crests from his skin. The man pales and nods rapidly, trying to pull away. Hanzo shoves the terrified man against the wall roughly without thought and moves to Jesse’s side.

“Are you hurt, Anata?” Hanzo’s all sweetness again when he looks over Jesse for injury, concern written plain on his face. “Nah, my regular knight in shinin’ armor came blazin’ in an’ rescued little ol’ me.” Jesse teases, taking his hat off and resting it over his heart, “Ya know how ta make a man swoon, Babe.” Hanzo fondly rolls his eyes and leans up to smooch Jesse on the lips gently, “I am pleased that you are unharmed. I take it they came for your bounty?” “Yeah.” Jesse looks sheepish, and scratches the back of his head and returns his hat to its place on his head so he can hide under the brim of it, “Sorry ‘bout this. Our plans got ruined because these assholes tracked me down.” “It’s fine, Jess.” Hanzo tips Jesse’s face back up and smiles gently, “You’re an outlaw, I’m an assassin. These things will happen, we’re far from a normal couple.” Jesse just huffs a laugh before sliding an arm around Hanzo’s waist, “Guess so, huh.” Jesse scuffs his boot on the floor. “So… does that mean you’d rather not try the cafe or…?” Hanzo presses into Jesse’s side and slides his arm around Jesse’s waist now, “If it’s still open, we can try the cafe.” Their leaving the bar is interrupted by the very shaken, but very angry bar keep, “You’re going to at least pay after everything you’ve put me through for the umpteenth time, McCree? Before I actually call the cops on you this time.” It’s Hanzo who approaches the bar while Jesse shrugs in the background, digging through his pockets for some of the credit chips he sometimes carries around from his old assassination contracts. The archer slaps a few thousand worth on the countertop, the dragons writhing under his skin and along his tattoo again at yet another threat to Jesse. “Keep the change.” The barkeep has more bravado than the man still cowering as far away from Hanzo as possible, and Hanzo ponders just how many bar fights Jesse’s caused as he watches the bar keep tiredly collect the payment. With the bartender satisfied, both of them finally leave the bar. It’s only when they’re both halfway down the street that Jesse brandishes the half finished bottle of whiskey. “You took that?!”

Jesse just takes a swig and offers it to Hanzo with a shrug, “It was there.” Hanzo accepts the offered bottle and takes a swig of it himself, “Next time, find the abandoned sake.” Jesse laughs all the way to the cafe.

[robbyrobinson]

Ranking the Sisters

10. Lily: Again, while I do like Lily, she doesn't have that much of a personality besides being cute. Really, I feel that Lily is pointless at some points; her only purpose is to be cute, and to say "poo poo."

9. Lisa: Now, I have said this before, so I'll keep it brief. I mainly dislike Lisa because she comes off as a conceited girl who looks down on her siblings and others. I mean, I get that she's supposed to be a genius and all, but does she really need to put others down? Besides that, she also came off as a killjoy to me, especially in episodes like "Snow Bored" in which she was planning to melt the snow so that the schools would be open that day. That's not even getting into the fact that she performs experiments on her own siblings at points, much like how she gave Luan a cookie that caused her to temporarily glow in the dark, or that one time that she accidentally caused Leni's head to swell up. And then she nearly electrocuted Lily. No, Lisa, it doesn't matter that you were going to give Lily a sucker afterwards; that was just messed up. Oh, and the whole thing with taking stool samples....thankfully, one fanfic passes that off as her just being concerned about their health so that's okay, I guess.

8. Lynn: You all know how I feel about her. Even as season 2 is nearing its end, nothing has made me come to like Lynn. Really, the one word that I can think of when I'm thinking about Lynn is bully. Now while I get that some people may not like Lori or Lola because they're jerks, at the very least, they have moments that show that they're not terrible at heart. With Lynn, you barely get that. I mean if threatening to beat Lincoln, karate chopping him, doing the Dutch Oven on him, etc. is her definition of affection, I want no part in that. I still think her worst episode was definitely "Space Invader." She acts ungrateful to Lincoln after she was kicked out of her own room and he begrudgingly allowed her to stay in his. I guess what I mean is while I personally believe that she does all this to Lincoln without any ill intention, she is never made to realize that enough is enough. And then theres' the fandom....Lynn has to be one of the most overrated of the sisters, well besides one that'll appear later in the list. I mean, I don't get it; why do people like her? I mean, besides the normal art, you of course have Loudcest, which I blame "Space Invader" for. I tried....I really tried to like Lynn, but after everything, especially NSL (which I did not hate; I still think that Lincoln was at fault), I just don't think I'll ever like her. I don't hate her, but I also think she's one of the weakest of the sisters as she has yet to have any noticeable character development.

7. Lori: Now, while I do agree with some blogs that say that there's more to Lori than meets the eye, I still don't find her interesting. Out of the sisters, she doesn't have any noticeable talents. She just comes off as being kind of average. And then there's those moments where she gets mad. Some are understandable, but then there are some moments where she comes off as a bratty little child. Case in point, "Save the Date." She forces Lincoln to go on a double date without his consent, all because Bobby dumped her when Lincoln accidentally offended his sister. Really? Does Lori even value Lincoln as a brother? I just get the sense that had Lincoln not have been born into their family, they might not want much to do with him. I don't mean to say it that way, but if you care more that your boyfriend dumped you than your own sibling....

6. Luan: I find Luan annoying at some points. Just getting that out of the way. She's energetic, almost happy all the time, etc. but I just tend to find her irritating especially with her puns. While some of them are funny, a lot of her puns are the death of comedy. And that's not even getting into how she becomes criminally unhinged whenever April Fools' Day is on the horizon. She can give even the Joker a run for his money. However, as I have said, I didn't hate "April Fools' Rules." I am still amused with how much thought Luan puts into her pranks. Really, they seem like a lot of them required meticulous planning. As for a "Fool's Paradise....." she was a borderline serial killer in that episode. Of course no one died, but she seemed to be even more psychotic in that episode. I'm just really worried for Luan's mental state. She seems to bubble all of this up, only to go all out on one day. However even then, I wouldn't label Luan as "evil." She just comes off as someone who just wants to have fun, but she just doesn't think it through enough.

5. Lana: Lana is an okay character. For the most part, I like her because of how she likes to get her hands dirty, as well as how she likes things like mud, frogs, reptiles, bugs, etc. Of course, my absolute favorite episode regarding Lana is still "Toads and Tiaras." I really loved the bonding she had with Lincoln, and how she ends up winning because she chose to be herself. However, I do sometimes get a little nauseous regarding Lana because of her eating habits. She ate worms once, she eats dog food (but her comment about dog biscuits keeping her "coat" clear was pretty funny), and she even ate a wadded piece of gum she got from a garbage can. It's really a miracle that the only time this girl got sick was when she contracted the flu.

4. Luna: I don't really know how to go about discussing Luna. For the most part, I like her; I mean, while I'm not much of a music guy, I do often like hearing Luna jam on her bass guitar or playing other instruments. I also find her to be one of the more kind sisters (no, I'm not going to use that nice sister crap if you think I'm going to), and I just ultimately found her to be kind of cool. If I had an older sister, I would definitely want her to be kind of like Luna. On the other hand...sometimes I get annoyed with Luna's voice. It's like scratching nails across a chalkboard. I mean, not necessarily when she uses that pseudo-British accent. When she's singing or something like that...really, Luna isn't one of those types that should sing. I mean at some points I'd be like "Dude, turn it down a couple volumes, please?" Seriously; besides her short hair and butch appearance, no wonder my mom confused Luna as a boy. She can seriously pass herself off as one. And as you would've probably guessed if you've read this far without chucking your computer out the window: I feel that she's way overrated. Besides that nicer sister nonsense, her reveal as a bisexual. I have spoken to death about how I feel on the subject; while I love the twist...it doesn't really make Luna better in my eyes. I mean, 99.9% of comments on "L" is for Love amount to "OMG! Luna likes girls! Best. Character. Ever!" I mean, who cares? Well besides those who dumped the show for that stupid reason. Just because a characters' gay, lesbian, bisexual, or trans does not make them an automatic good character. There should be more depth to their character. We know about the character, but we don't know anything about that character. Just because Luna's bi does not make her automatically good. She's not a bad character, but she comes off as pretty hollow overall.

3. Lola: OK, while I love parading that Lola is a sociopath, but I don't ultimately believe that to be the case. In regards to who is the more visibly entertaining of the sisters, Lola has that in spades. She's hammy with how self-centered she is, she overreacts a lot. I mean, remember how she was in "Out of the Picture?" She was overly dramatic about her bad yearbook photo. Besides that, I also love her "evil" moments. They're over the top and funny with how terrified the other siblings get around her, etc. Besides that, she has moments where she can be pretty nice. Especially with "Out of the Picture" where she voices her gratitude towards Lincoln and Clyde for changing the photo, saying that if anything, she'd remember what they did for her. And then JFMStudios ruined that heartwarming moment by making an alternate ending. Curse you, JFMStudios (jk)!!

2. Leni: I just love how innocent Leni can often be with her cluelessness. Amongst the sisters, I find Leni as one of the more quotable. I also like how she's generally one of the more kind of the sisters, and how she can be thoughtful at some points. If you're worried that she may get too played as dumb frequently, they always manage to have a moment where Leni is smart in her own way to the point that some of her ideas could pass as outright ingenious.

1. Lucy: Again. Much like with my first list, Lucy ended up scoring the number one spot somehow. If I ranked the sisters by which personality suited me the most, I somehow ended up scoring under Lucy. I mean I'm serious; I once did a personality quiz based on the show, and I somehow ended up getting Lucy. At some points, I do kind of feel like I understand Lucy the most, because I feel the same way about certain things myself. Sometimes I feel unhappy, sometimes I feel that others ignore me or see me as invisible, or sometimes I feel that life isn't fair. I guess that's what often drifts me towards liking Lucy the most. Not in some kinship, obviously, but I find her relatable. On another note, one thing I have in common with Lucy is how I seemingly appear in other places of my house without my parents or grandmother noticing, and then unintentionally scaring them. Of course, that's because I walk fast, sometimes without making a sound, but that's beside the point.

Your favorites from best to worse?