#especially his gang but they wouldn't mind

[skittlesking]

Can your nightmare show us some spells and tricks he's learned during his 500-year journey through the Multiverse?

He also knows a bit of color magic : D

[that-was-anticlimactic]

okay so hear me out: one of ritsu’s tics is scratching. just like... imagining him scratching himself subconsciously all the time and he can’t stop even when he realizes it because it’s a compulsion. he tends to scratch his hands and knuckles and wrists a lot and it just gets worse the more stressed or anxious or overwhelmed he gets. and sometimes he doesn’t even realize it’s happening until someone points it out or mentions that he’s bleeding.

and thinking about that being a tic he’s not great at suppressing so he does his best to hide it from his family (he doesn’t care about that one at school as much because he could easily lie his way out of that one) so they don’t realize it’s a problem until one day when ritsu walks into spirits and such with blood caking and dripping from his hands (maybe during final exams or he’s in the midst of an anxiety/tic attack or maybe he’s just really overwhelmed with everything on his plate) and. y eah.

[gremlingottoosilly]

I just need willing sexworker reader with Mafia Konig.

He is fighting against the urge to have his lil wifey near bc he knows he will fuck 24/7 and also she would be his weakness. But how can he say no when she begs him so sweetly with his cock inside, when she says a mere thing about how they would be a cute family.

My breeding kink is showing, forgive my manners.

Oh, he can't resist your begging. This man is weak - for you especially, with his mind working overtime just to compensate for all the things he is throwing away to be able to spend a few more hours buried deep in your pussy. You look so fucking precious under him, your body mangled to fit him perfectly - he needs you, wants you, sometimes thinks you're literally just a plant from a rival gang to make him stop working and just fuck you all the time. If you sleep together and you ask him to stay with you during the morning, with that adorable groggy voice of yours, he won't ever be able to resist - and if you want for him to breed your pussy until you're so filled up you can't walk, he will gladly stop whatever he was doing. It started so simple. Konig was your client, paid a bit too much, and always took care of you afterward - if not personally, then by hotel staff and paid nights at the luxurious resorts. You couldn't help but fall for him, even if only for a little bit at the start. You adored his gifts, his compliments, even his obsession and his work - he protected you, started booking all of your sessions to drive clients away, even managed to get you an apartment without any strings attached. Well, without any strings that weren't attached to him, that is. Konig sees you as his reprieve, his little saving grace. He indulges in your body and makes sure you know just how much he adores having you by his side. You're his weakness, and he tells you that it's going to get him killed one day, but if that means keeping you on his lap while dealing with gun deals and the drug trade, he is willing to risk everything. He needs you by his side - if not as a helper, then as stress relief. Konig never cared too much about what was going to happen with his mafia empire after he died, but now he started to think about heirs, legacy, making you pregnant, and then spawning a little army of his kids, ready to take over neighboring countries. You beg him to fuck you so sweetly, he just can't resist. Even if his age means he can't quite go on multiple rounds like he used to at his horny young adult times, he is still going to keep his favourite lady satisfied. And fucked so much, she wouldn't be able to crawl out of the bed next morning, letting him tend to his criminal business.

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐗-𝐌𝐞𝐧 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐃𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐏𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ includes: charles xavier, erik lehnsherr, logan howlett, marie lebeau, and peter maximoff

↳ warnings: x-man type violence maybe? nothing much

↳ notes: just some self indulgent headcanons about how the gang would deal with someone who hates skin on skin contact. this is based on my own personal experiences, so it might not cater to everyone. charles and erik are written to be more of themselves around the first class era, peter is himself as seen in apocalypse, and marie & logan are more set in the first movie's portrayal of them

↳ song: heavy metal lover—lady gaga

masterlist | commissions | carrd

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐗𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐫 [𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫 𝐗]

• Oh this is not one bit of a problem for Charles

• He's never needed physical contact to connect with people. Whether that's because of his powers, or his 'natural charm' as he calls it, you aren't sure, but your strange request for no contact never seemed to put him off his friendship with you

• Charles has his own ways of bonding with you, no hugs or handshakes required. Instead of nudges used to alert the other of a particularly funny joke, he'd just send you flashes in your mind regarding the situation. The end result was always the same; with the both of you grinning at each other while the rest of the room was left to make their own assumptions as to what you were thinking about

• "Seriously, it's creepy when they do that. They could be talking about anything." Alex whispered to Hank one day as you and Charles stood across the room from each other, not caring if the Professor was able to hear him or not. The only sign that you were even talking was the occasional huff of laughter Charles would let out as you scrunched your nose up in a toothy grin

• "Oh, I wouldn't say that." Hanks eyes gleam from behind his glasses as he watches the two of his friends. "Charles tells me most of it is just really bad jokes, if you want to know."

• As if on cue, the spell between you and Charles breaks as you delve into a laughing fit, and Alex and Hank can't help but shake their heads at each other in slight amusement as they watch

• He does an excellent job at speaking for you when you can't quite explain to new people why you are the way you are—as long as you'll let him, of course

• Maybe it's because he's been in your head, or just because he knows you so well that he can say exactly what you're thinking before you even know it. And sometimes, he doesn't even need to explain much at all. One carefully worded sentence backed with that steady tone of his is enough to make even the most ignorant of people understand

• "No handshakes for them, please." Charles had found himself saying that sentence more times than he could count since getting to know you, but he never found himself growing tired of it; even when you eventually found the awkward courage to start speaking on your behalf. Especially when you started speaking on your behalf

• Charles is a very patient man, and he couldn't be happier than to wait for you to open up to the world like you had done for him, even if it does take a while

𝐄𝐫𝐢𝐤 𝐋𝐞𝐡𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫 [𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐨]

• I'm going to be completely honest with you. At first, Erik finds your habit of avoiding touch annoying

• It's a weakness in his eyes that you have every opportunity to avoid acquiring. He doesn't see the point in being afraid of something so miniscule

• When he first meets you, he's probably an asshole about it. Erik doesn't go out of his way to touch you on purpose, but he won't take extra steps to stop himself from doing so. If the back of his hand brushes against yours as he storms away from another one of Charles' annoying lectures? Then so be it. Who cares if you pull back from him like you've been burned, clutching your skin tightly as you glare at his retreating form

• It will take a while for Erik to begin to understand you, much like it does for him to understand a lot of things about the rest of the world. I won't say that he ever officially apologizes for his past behavior toward you, but he definitely drops hints that he does regret it

• "Never thought I'd live to hear the Erik Lehnsherr himself say sorry for something he did. Next you'll be telling me you've always liked humans." Your eyes were wide in faux surprise as you stared at him one day, looking like you had just heard the best news of your life. It was a good thing you and Erik had a much better relationship than when you had first met, otherwise he wouldn't have had a second thought about shutting you up

• "All I said was that maybe I maybe could have been a bit nicer to you." He sighed, already regretting this entire interaction

• "Oh, you're not getting off that easy." You were already scrambling for the door, completely missing the way Erik rolled his eyes and flicked his hand up in preparation. "Charles! Charles, you'll never believe what just happened—"

• He ended up using your belt buckle to drag you across the room before you could embarrass him any further

• Once he's warmed up to you, I'd like to think that he's definitely used the fact that lots of people wear rings and bracelets to his advantage to stop people from touching you at bars or in crowds

• He swears up and down he doesn't get attached to anyone, and especially not someone that associates with the X-Men of all groups, but you've definitely have had a few people look at their hands around you in confusion while he's around. Almost as if someone else had a say in their actions

• "Big softie."

• "You do know I could kill you if I wanted to."

• "I'd like to retract my last statement, please and thank you."

𝐋𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭 [𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞]

• Logan doesn't give two shits about your strange request

• Not in the way that he ignores it like Erik, but rather in the way that he literally doesn't give a fuck if you want to be touched or not. He wasn't planning on touching you anyways, so it's not like he really has to think about it

• If anything, Logan is one of the only people who can even begin to understand your mindset. He's never been too fond of people just outright touching him without a warning first, especially if they were strangers, but that's what you get after being experimented on for years

• He'll have to get to both know and like you before he starts taking your words more seriously. Otherwise, all you're getting from him is a gruff noise of disinterest and a roll of his shoulders as he blows past you

• Or ar least that's what he'd like you to think

• "Watch it, pal." You barely had time to process what that noise was next to your ear before Logan was standing dangerously close to you. You were about to ask him to back away before you saw his hand up, and when you looked at his hand you saw it was closed around a strangers wrist; the likes of which was outreached in your direction and just about to make contact with you

• Logans rough tone and sharp glare had sent the fellow stumbling away with an apology, and left you standing there with a bewildered look on your face. It only grew larger when he refused to look at you afterward

• "Don't let it get to your head." Was all he huffed out in your general direction before walking off to continue the mission the both of you were on. Through the com's in your ears, you could hear the rest of the team asking you what was going on, and with a slow upward tick of your lip you finally answered

• "I think Wolverine here has gone a bit soft on my end guys."

• You were given the cold shoulder for the rest of the week by Logan, and every time he glared at you, you couldn't help but try to hold in laughter

• "See, this is why I'm not nice."

• "No no no I take it all back, I swear. You're so mean. You're the meanest, toughest person here, never done a good deed in your life—"

• "Shut the fuck up."

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐞 𝐋𝐞𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐮 [𝐑𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞]

• She doesn't understand why you'd choose to have people not touch you

• For Marie, not being able to hug someone— to even so much as hold hands with the people she loved —is a curse. She wasn't such a fool to think that her mutation itself was the curse, Charles had managed to drill that thought out of her head a long while ago, but the side-effect that came with it would forever haunt her

• So when she found out that you actively took strides to make sure no one ever touched you (if possible), she was in disbelief

• "I just don't get it." She'd confessed to you out of the blue once. "How can you stand it? If I were you—"

• "But you're not." You cut her off and shrugged, voice devoid of any meanness or annoyance at the turn of conversation. "I get it. I must seem crazy to you. I'd imagine that you'd jump at the chance to be able to touch someone again. But that just isn't me. I can't stand the feeling of being touched. Makes me feel gross; inside and out. I don't ask you to understand it, just that you respect it. Yeah?"

• She had nodded slowly at you, not expecting the sudden explanation. It wasn't unwelcome, however. Quite the contrary. She'd rather understand you than stew in quiet confusion

• From that moment on, even if Marie thinks you're a little crazy in the head, she does her best to make sure that both herself and others take your wishes to heart

• You have to admit, it's nice having her look out for you. And it helps that she's one of the most powerful mutants on campus; one sideways look from her, and she could send anyone in the opposite direction from you if you need

𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐟𝐟 [𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫]

• You're constantly having to remind him that you don't like people touching you

• It's not Peter's fault he forgets sometime. His brain is always going going going from one thing to the next. Thinking about the next mission, the quickest way to get from one end of the country to the other, how to beat that stupid kid at the arcade that keeps leaving him and his high scores in the dust—

• Okay so maybe he could do a bit of a better job of trying to listen

• "Peter, reach for the back of my neck again and I'm gonna break both of your legs." You didn't even have to turn around to know that he was itching to latch onto your neck, most likely to take you on a surprise trip a few states over. Or maybe just to the mall. He was spontaneous like that

• When you did manage to look up from your notebook and back at him, you found that Peter was already a good few feet away from you, holding up his hands with a deceivingly innocent smile; but respecting your wishes all the same

• "You sure you're not a secret nun or something?" He poked fun at the way you refused to let anyone touch you, even going as far to squint at you in an unconvinced manner. You ignored his clear misunderstanding of nuns to snort in amusement

• "No."

• "Could have fooled me, babe."

• He sped away before you had the chance to throw your papers at his head

• Peter's probably the kind of guy to constantly tease you to your face, but the moment you're not in sight and someone's ragging on you, he'll shut them down. He's done it many times to stray students in the hallways of the school who talk just a little too loud about your personal boundaries

• "I'm just saying, man, they're a little weird. The other day, I asked to borrow a pencil, and they threw it at me. While standing less than a foot away. It's just strange—"

• Less than a second later, the student was sent falling to the floor over his shoelaces, which were suspiciously tied together in contrast to moments ago when they had been placed in neat little bows

• The only sign that this hadn't been a freak accident was the telltale burst of wind that sped by the student and their friend, a faint laugh following in its wake

[ddarker-dreams]

BRILLIANT fucking idea: SR reader insinuating/offhandedly admitting… she has never been intimate. everyone hearing it like 🧍🏾‍♀️ how do you mean. idk j the flustered bashfulness of suddenly being like “wajt wait if im her bf ,,, im her first love”

SCREAMINGGGGG

[Scarlet Ribbons index]

Giorno

Giorno is a bit strange because he almost wishes he had a predecessor to analyze (and completely outshine). He isn’t disappointed per se, he’s not that weird, but having more study material never hurts. Positive relationships are foreign to him, since he’s been distant from others most of his life. He got along with people well enough — he just preferred his own company. Now that he’s had a taste of your company, he’s keen on making it a lifelong occurrence. Overhearing this admission has him wondering if traditional courting methods don’t do much for you. Or, more realistically, that they go over your pretty head. He's witnessed you interpreting the gang's flirtations as platonic. Consequently, he gives considerable thought to ensuring this isn't a fate that befalls him. Corny as it sounds, his new dream is to stand beside you as your husband. He's chasing this goal without abandon.

Bruno

Bruno feels immensely guilty for eavesdropping on a conversation involving something so personal, but he couldn't help himself. An immense weight feels like it's been lifted from his shoulders upon learning you haven't gotten romantically involved with anyone before. This relief is followed up with sharp self-condemnation — as your leader, he shouldn't get involved with your personal affairs. Maintaining any professional distance is difficult though, especially when you're so likable. People are naturally drawn to you and he's no different. That's why this revelation comes as a surprise, albeit a good one. He tells himself he'd be happy for you if you loved someone else... however, deep down, he knows the regret would eat him alive. He struggles to concentrate the rest of the day. His mind keeps wandering back to thoughts of you, specifically, finding solace in one another’s warmth. The most innocent thoughts make his heart flutter, the man is smitten.

Fugo

Fugo almost renounces his atheism — perhaps there is a God after all. Then he's reminded that you're completely out of his league, submersing him back into the Nietzsche headspace. His self-esteem isn't the best, so the way he looks at it is if no one else was good enough to catch your attention, what chance did he have? It's a miracle you even put him with him. He's blunt, stubborn, and easy to agitate, yet you're one of the few people alive who don't treat him like a ticking time bomb. When his initial pessimism dies down, he fantasizes about you getting flustered by things like a first kiss. It's a cute mental image. Would you fidget? Accidentally bump heads and apologize? Get sweaty palms? Before he knows it, he's invented an entire storyline in his head. It's mushy enough that he struggles to look you in the eye the next time he sees you.

Mista

Mista pretends he knew it all along, as if the Pistols hadn't kept him awake multiple nights, speculating over your relationship status. The little fellas held full-blown debates. Since he's a chill, go-with-the-flow type of guy, he wouldn't have turned green with envy had he learned you former lovers. If they brought you happiness, who is he to hold it against them? Regardless, he can't deny his budding excitement. Should you reciprocate his feelings, you'll experience all your firsts with him. Those initial milestones are the moments that stick with people throughout their life. It's your first kiss in particular that he'd like to have for himself. He intends to sweep you off your feet — literally. It's got to be like those old Hollywood flicks he grew up watching, or what's the point?

Narancia

Narancia has to stop himself from audibly cheering. The multiple abandonments he underwent in the past has him latching onto the few people remaining in his life. This includes you, naturally. You've brought him so much joy, the risk of losing that, losing you, it's a fear that eats away at him. He worries that if you had exes, you might compare him to them and determine he's subpar. Then he'd be cast aside like trash as he had been multiple times before. These insecurities nourish his possessive tendencies. Learning that he has no exes to fend off is a great relief because he would've defended you viciously. It isn't until later that he daydreams over the more innocent implications, like being your first (and only!) boyfriend. He gets so preoccupied by the thought that he walks into a few walls.

Abbacchio

He's actually surprised to learn about this. He considers using Moody Blues so he can hear the entire conversation, but decides against it, believing it to be an intrusion of your privacy. Abbacchio's of the opinion that to maximize your happiness, you should find love outside of Passione. He wants that for you, and yet... his heart physically aches whenever the possibility crosses his mind. What's the alternative, then? Would he make for a suitable partner? He finds the mere possibility laughable. Your brightness would be engulfed by the gaping maw that is his existence. He considers this an empirical truth, not some 'woe is me' sentiment. Ultimately, anytime your love life (or lack of one) is brought up, he distracts himself, so as not to fixate on his shortcomings.

[atarathegreat]

Wearing Their Glasses

ft: Rindou Haitani, Kazushi Yamagishi, Baji Keisuke, Hanma Shuji

Rindou never minded that you knew about his past, he felt that it brought the both of you closer, if anything. He understood that he was hard to readand hard to get along with, and maybe if you knew about his childhood and all the gang bullshit then you could work around who he was now. And for the most part you did. You rarely asked him questions since you knew he would answer them all no matter what mood he was in. He'd been honest about how many men he'd killed, how many hits he'd ordered, even let you go to work with him on days he felt would be calm. But this was crossing a line. "What the hell are you doing with those?" Rindou froze in his spot on the couch as you walked in, a pair of circular glasses perched on your nose. You looked cute in his old glasses, he'd give you that, but he also preferred that part of him stay hidden. Contacts kept him from looking like a nerd and he couldn't bear the idea that you might think he was cute in glasses. Especially those dorky ass wire rims. You smiled and poked them higher on the bridge of your nose, "Found them in the closet. Are they yours?" Of course they were his, and he knew that you were aware of that from the grin that curled your lips upward. The same grin he was glaring at as he slammed into you for another time, your soft giggles making him harder as he tried to forget how you teased him over the glasses. "Rinny, you look so cute." Another soft moan, another gentle touch that moved the glasses back to his nose. Why did he agree to put them on? He knew you would compliment him, and he knew he was a whiney bitch for your praise. Each panted breath and your words of so cute and can't believe you stopped wearin' glasses was sending his brain deeper into the fog. Rindou reached around you, his hands grabbing at the flesh of your ass to lift you with him as he kept burying his cock deeper and deeper. A blush dusted your cheeks, you were always so red by the time Rindou was done with you, and he wouldn't be done anytime soon if you didn't stop calling him cute.

<3<3<3&lt;3<3<3<3<3

Each day was the same. Come in, handle business, leave. Kazushi wasn't anymore complicated than that. He didn't stay over, didn't pick up extra work and he never, never left his work unfinished. If someone else was dumb enough to slack off that was their fault and not Kazushi's problem to fix. Handling things had been made a little harder by the fact that he had left home in a rush that morning and forgotten his glasses, which also meant the drive home was a little slower than usual as well. Kazushi's vision wasn't impaired too badly, but he did like to see what the street signs said before he blew past them. Getting to his destination safely was something you had always jumped his ass for. "Bikes are dangerous, Kazushi!" And you'd throw your arms in the air, "If you don't slow down you could crash, or lose control and the end up smashed under some car tires!" You were a bit on the dramatic side to him. But, this was also the man who'd been riding bikes since he was in middle school, be it he was a passenger or the driver. "Babe, can you grab my glasses?" He called as he stacked his shoes by the door, "I left them this morning." The very last thing he expected, if it could even be on his list, was you trotting around the corner with what he wanted sat on your pretty face. "I wore them a bit today." Had you always looked at him with such big eyes? Kazushi didn't care to try and answer that question, not when your cries were so perfect from him folding you in half. Your breasts bounced in tandem with each of his thrusts as he fucked himself into you roughly. Kazushi chuckled as his glasses slipped down your nose, so he fixed them for you, "Keep these on, pretty girl, and keep those eyes open."

<3<3<3&lt;3<3<3<3<3

"You must be really blind if you need glasses to study." You were making fun of him again as he glared at you over his glasses. The way you laughed was enough to make him take them off. Baji just wanted to get his work done the right way, that's the only reason you were there, to help him since he couldn't grasp the math. He knew he'd made a mistake going to college, especially once you managed to wrap him around your pinky finger so tightly he couldn't breathe. "I'm kidding, Baj!" You whined as he threw the glasses across his bed, only succeeding in making them fall between the wall and bed to hit the floor, "You didn't have to do all that." He cursed at the work in front of him. Baji really didn't want to do any of the fucking work, and he'd risk failing the class again if it wasn't for Chifuyu helping pay for the damn classes. "C'mere." When had you crawled onto his bed? You were bent on all fours with your hand stretched to reach for the lenses. The sight of your ass wiggling in the air as you struggled to grab what you were reaching for made his cock ache. And it certainly didn't help when you dropped them on your face and sat across from him. "Get over here." Baji tied his hair back, kicking the table to the side. "The math-" "Can fuckin' wait. I said come here." He wasn't sure he'd ever get used to the sight of you riding him naked, but now he at least knew that it was ten times better when you had his glasses on. "So fuckin' gorgeous f'me." His hands dug into your hips as he made you grind on him, "Don't let those come off your nose, not even for a single fuckin' second." Baji was aware of the fact his voice alone was driving you crazy, he didn't have to reach down and pinch at your clit, but he wanted to watch those pretty eyes roll back into your empty head as his cock bullied your insides.

<3<3<3&lt;3<3<3<3<3

Hanma didn't care to be subtle about what he wanted from you, even in public. You knew you were in for it if he was slipping the arms of his glasses over your ears, his slender fingers being extra careful as he tucked a strand of hair with them. Had you not worn that dress he liked oh-so much, you probably would've been fine. But no. You had to tempt him, had to want his attention that was undivided with everything Tokyo Manji was doing. "Look at you," He drawled, sounding more bored than anything as he lazily pumped only the head of his cock into your sex, "greedy little thing you are. So busy worrying about my dick and not enough about me." You had already fallen apart from his tip alone, your muscles clenching around him each time he moved into you in an attempt to make him want more. He did, and you knew he did from just how hard he was, how swollen he felt moving through your folds. A loud yelp sounded from you as he slapped your clit, "Open eyes, sweetheart, keep sucking me in and I might give you what you want."

[sunsburns]

kiss of life (iii.)

pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite!daughter reader

masterlist

summary: you have never doubted aphrodite when it comes to soulmates, she's the goddess of love, she knows what she's doing and you're getting pretty sick of people telling you she's made a mistake with your soulmate, specifically. you refuse to believe that she could be wrong, but luke castellan is making it really hard for you to have hope.

—or: you and luke are off on your quest you're totally not having second thoughts about choosing him, he's your soulmate after all... right?

word count: 3.2k

warnings: filler chapter (sorry gang), reader's pov, reader is lowkey unreliable and is hiding something, pre-tlt, luke's character is kinda inconsistent but whatever, angsty fight with luke and reader, low-key happy ending

a/n: everyone might've moved on but i'm still here 😔… gang i think i’m coming back to my active era (no one cheered) anyways there’s so much i wanna write for this series so enjoy this little filler!

You'd always been a fan of bad ideas, but choosing Luke Castellan as your companion for the duration of your quest had to be your worst one yet. You felt a pang of doubt, questioning your choice, especially after witnessing the outcome of his quest—a failure that seemed impossible to shake off from the whispers of other campers. A failure your siblings wouldn't let you forget.

"I was there when he came back. I know what happened," you muttered, frustration creeping into your voice as you stuffed clothes into your bag.

Your siblings meant the world to you. You cherished the bond you shared—the familial camaraderie that bound your cabin together. As the eldest, you revelled in guiding and nurturing them, relishing the role of guardian and friend within your cabin's close-knit circle. Yet, like any family, they can sometimes be suffocatingly overbearing.

Alexis, your brother, ever ready to smack a reality check, had been the first to warn you against choosing Luke Castellan, and now he spearheaded a group of your siblings, all urging you to reconsider with reason.

"But that's just it. You don't know. Not really. None of us do." Alexis told you, reclining against the shared vanity in your cabin. The absence of the younger kids, off with Chiron for a lesson on constellations, offered you some peace of mind, sparing them from witnessing the escalating intervention.

As Silena sifted through the clothes strewn across your bed, her soft humming filled the room, a stark contrast to the weighty silence that hung over the conversation. "No one but Chiron and Mr. D knows what happened on that quest. He refuses to talk about it." she mused.

"There's not a lot of glory in that." Alexis shrugged, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"He's been so weird and different since he returned," Silena added, "I remember he used to smile. It was such an attractive smile. And he used to talk... He barely ever talks anymore."

Alexis snorted, "That's called depression, Silena."

"It's just so sad." She frowned and sat on your bed, her gaze distant, "Pretty people don't deserve to be depressed."

"Amen to that."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at their melodramatic exchange, a fleeting smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you focused on folding another pair of pants. 

"He still talks." You said.

"But it's not the same," Alexis countered, his expression grave. Deep down, you knew he was right.

"And the way he's treated you," Silena scoffed, "constantly icing you out..."

"Avoiding you for months..." Alexis added, stepping closer to you with a solemn expression. "Refusing to even talk to you."

When he tried to put his hand on your shoulder, you couldn't help but shrug it off, not wanting his sympathy.

Their reminders, well-intentioned though they may be, served only to deepen the wound already festering within you. Like a knife twisted in your back, the memories of Luke's avoidance and unanswered questions pierced your thoughts with relentless precision. You vividly recalled the disappointment etched across his face in the infirmary, a silent testament to his dismay upon discovering your role in his fate. The weight of his unspoken words hung heavily in the air, a haunting reminder of the rift that had formed between you before it even started.

Your siblings were very careful with their next words: "Do you think that maybe... just this once... Aphrodite got it wrong?"

With a heavy heart, you stormed out of the cabin, your mind reeling with conflicting emotions. You swore up and down to Alexis and Silena that you were fine, that you only needed air. The need for clarity drove you to seek solace in the quiet embrace of nature, the gentle flicker of a breeze offering a touch of comfort amidst the turmoil raging within.

Throughout your life, your unwavering loyalty to your mother, Aphrodite, and the Gods has been a source of solace and guidance. You found comfort in the subtle manifestations of them, from the celestial dance of stars to the gentle caress of sunlight filtering through the trees. Even in the casual interactions of everyday life, you sought traces of your mother's hand guiding your path.

As you gazed into the dancing flames, the remnants of fruit smouldering in their fiery embrace in a tin can, you found yourself caught between hope and despair during your offering for your mother. Silena's words echoed in your mind, a harsh truth you were reluctant to confront. Maybe you didn't have a soulmate. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe you're unlovable.

Yet, amidst the cloud of doubt, a flicker of defiance ignited within you. The mere thought that Aphrodite could be mistaken in matters of love seemed impossible to you. You had witnessed firsthand the intricate tapestry of fate woven by her hand, guiding souls to their destined counterparts with unfailing precision. 

The yearning for that connection, that soul-deep bond, burned within you like a beacon in the darkness of uncertainty. It was a desire as old as time itself, the longing to find solace and belonging in the embrace of another.

As the flames dwindled to embers, their dying glow casting flickering shadows upon the ground, your prayers went unanswered. 

The weight of your impending quest pressed upon you like a heavy cloak. Questions tumbled over one another in a relentless cascade, each one a dagger aimed at the heart of your resolve. Where would you need to go? Would you need to defend yourself? Would monsters come after you? Should you choose someone else? Could it be that Luke was nothing to you but a mistaken thread tethered into your life?

Your shoes stepped over twigs and dry leaves on the ground until you stepped out of the forest. Passing by the armoury, you forced a smile upon your lips. You forced yourself to be excited for your first quest rather than dread it. It was a rare privilege bestowed upon a child of Aphrodite, you should honour it.

As you approached the heart of camp again, the familiar clang of sword meeting dummy rumbled through the night air. The rhythmic sound, though commonplace in the realm of demigod training, carried an ominous weight under the cover of darkness. You would have assumed that all campers were asleep.

Luke Castellan, a boy who had become synonymous with the darker days since his return from his quest, stood amidst the training grounds, his silhouette illuminated by the pale moonlight. The sight of him, bathed in the ghostly shine, was haunting. With each precise strike of his sword, a muted testament to the rage that plagued his restless spirit, he seemed to exude an aura of both determination and despair.

No wonder you were so exhausted.  

You dared not meet his gaze, instead keeping your head bowed as you navigated the familiar path through the training grounds. Every fibre of your being screamed for you to move faster, yet the pull of his presence was undeniable. Despite your best efforts to remain unseen, Luke's voice cut through the night, calling out your name with a sense of urgency that sent a shiver down your spine.

Shit.

With a sinking heart, you felt his hand land on your shoulder, stopping your escape. You couldn't avoid him now. Turning to face him, you were met with a sight that mirrored the restlessness within your own soul. His features, etched with lines of weariness and frustration, betrayed the weight of the burdens he carried.

You were distracted by the way he was looking at you. Brows furrowed, his lips turned and pulled into that permanent frown that had you wondering if he had ever smiled since he came back. Yet, despite the weight of his solemn expression, there was a flicker of something in his eyes – a glint of warmth, of familiarity, that almost stirred a faint glimmer of hope within you.

Almost. 

"You're making a mistake." He insisted. "You need to choose someone else for your quest."

You tried not to seem too disappointed. "I can't pick anyone else." You protested, and he raised his brows at you, doubtful. "The Oracle told me to choose you."

"She told you to-?" A scoff escaped him, "The Oracle doesn't tell you who to choose. She doesn't say anything about who you should bring-"

"Luke-"

"The Oracle tells you what your quest is, then a weird riddle about something that will happen on your quest that will put you on edge the entire time."

Luke had stepped closer to you as he spoke as if his words would've sunk into your head clearer if you could hear them better. He spoke to you a lot that way, hoping you'd cling to every word he had to say; good and bad. Mostly bad.

The Oracle's cryptic words lingered in your mind. She had not revealed much about your quest, offering no subtle hints or insights into Eros' whereabouts to make your life easier. Instead, her assurance that success hinged on bringing Luke Castellan along had left you grappling with uncertainty. "He has all the answers you seek," she had urged, her words echoing with a weight that you struggled to comprehend.

"It has to be you."

"What else did she say?"

You hesitated. "That's it," you replied, your words falling short.

"That's it?" He didn't believe you.

"Just a few hints of where Eros might be, I guess." The lie slipped from your lips effortlessly. 

He caught it quickly but never urged you to admit it. Luke remained silent, his expression unreadable as he mulled over your words. 

You sort of wished he fought you over it.

You wished he'd do anything with you. At least try to.

"If you don't want to come with me, that's fine," you conceded, "I'm leaving tomorrow morning, with or without you."

"Really? You'll just leave?"

The bitterness in his tone was unmistakable. Yet, despite the resentment that coloured his words, there was a flicker of something in his eyes – a glimmer of regret, perhaps, or maybe resignation. It only annoyed you further.

Luke Castellan was possibly the most confusing person you've ever met. He didn't want to join you on your quest, but you couldn't leave without him either? What's his fucking deal?

He intrigued and frustrated you, like some curse had been placed upon you, and you wanted to understand every part of him while he wanted nothing to do with you. Perhaps Aphrodite was being cruel when she chose him as your soulmate, but you weren't any better when you put him in the position of joining you on your quest.

"I don't know you." You admitted the words hanging heavy in the air between you. "You've made a really good effort to make sure that I don't know anything about you. I did my part. I picked you. If you don't want to come, that's... fine."

It pained you to say it. You did not want to go alone, but you weren't going to force someone to accompany you who clearly didn't want to be there. However, the uncertainty of what lay beyond the safety of the camp walls loomed large in your mind. You haven't left the protection of the camp in years, you weren't sure of what was out there other than the stories the summer campers would tell you, of their close calls and near misses. 

Luke Castellan was the perfect example of what leaving camp does to someone.

Despite the weight of your decision, you held your head high as you turned on your heels. You doubted Luke had anything more to say; he was a man of few words, after all.

You left him there, just as he left you by the docks for months. And then you lied to yourself, clung to the belief that your mother, Aphrodite, would safeguard your journey and that your brother, Eros, awaited your rescue.

And so, the next morning, after bidding your tearful goodbyes to your siblings and friends and earning a proud pat on the back from Chiron, you swallowed your pride and left.

The Oracle's words were etched into the very fabric of your being, a relentless mantra that monopolized your thoughts as you trudged toward the top of the hill and left the safety of campgrounds. Each step forward was a testament to your determination, each footfall a declaration of your unwavering commitment to the quest ahead.

As you climbed, you couldn't help but imagine the faces of campers upon your return. You pictured the awe in their eyes, the pride in their voices, and most of all, the look on Luke's face when he realized the extent of your lone success, his disbelief mingling with a begrudging respect.

"Hey-"

The sound of your name startled you out of your thoughts. You were trudging through the grass when you spotted a body sitting under a pine tree, shaded from the sun by its leaves.

Luke looked up at you, frowning, "Took you long enough."

His dishevelled dark curls fell over his eyes, a stark contrast against the vibrant greenery surrounding him. With a resigned sigh, he rose to his feet, his movements fluid yet tinged with an air of impatience Luke picked up a bag by his side, tossing it over his shoulder. It wasn't until he emerged from the tree's shade that you noticed the subtle changes in his attire. Gone was the signature orange camp shirt, replaced instead by a more subdued navy tee that hugged his frame. His old cargo pants remained the same, but different nonetheless.

Eyeing his bag, you could spot smaller daggers strapped to the sides, prepared for anything. It took you a few seconds to process why he was there. You squint at the sun as he steps out from under the tree. "You came."

He huffed, "Obviously."

You let out a breathless chuckle, maybe one of relief since honestly, despite everything you'd been trying to convince yourself of, you were terrified to leave on your own. 

"Why?" you asked, your voice betraying a hint of uncertainty as you adjusted the straps of your own bag. The question hung in the air, unanswered. Of course. You almost rolled your eyes as Luke began to descend the other side of the hill. With a fleeting glance over his shoulder, he wordlessly beckoned you to join him by tilting his head to the side impatiently.

You grinned then, wide and bright. "I know I said I didn't care if you came or not, but I'm glad you're here."

He showed no sign of acknowledgment of your sentiment, his gaze fixed ahead as he continued to walk once you joined his side.

As the minutes stretched on in silence, broken only by the rhythmic crunch of leaves underfoot, you found yourself lost in thought. It was only when the distant hum of passing cars reached your ears, their blurred forms darting through the forest's fringe, that you were jolted back to the present.

Drawing to a halt near the forest's edge, you felt the weight of uncertainty settle upon you. With a hesitant pause, you turned to face Luke, the question that had been gnawing at your mind poised on the tip of your tongue.

"Why'd you stop?" He asked.

"I just..." Your voice wavered, uncertainty lacing your words as you struggled to articulate your thoughts. You worried that if you said the wrong thing he'd leave you stranded right there and return to camp while the two of you were still walking distance from it. It annoyed you a little; how much you had to walk on eggshells with him.

You couldn't help but wonder how different things might have been if you hadn't chosen him. You were being stupid when you picked him, you decided. You already regret it. Maybe Luke was right, the Oracle was just trying to get into your head.

"What made you change your mind? About coming on the quest?" you finally managed to voice, your eyes meeting his in search of answers.

He looked at you, brown eyes flitting over your expression, before licking his lips and simply stating: "If you break an arm, so do I."

That had been the closest Luke Castellan had ever been to admitting he had a soulmate.

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[seventhcallisto]

A PROMISE IS A SWEAR ! giom — chpt. 1

Synopsis. Matz gains a new district and a new member. The same member who trails a bunny to the den and introduces the beginning of obsession for the leaders.

Warnings. Violence. Physical harm. Und3rag3 tattooing. Teenagers(that needs it's own tw). Gang symbols. cigarett3 b3rn. Harm. And emotional harm and arguing. Please read giom masterlist before continuing.

Tuesday.

Positively, you were furious. After a not so nice call from a local man you know —your neighbor to be exact— you were mumbling up a storm. Excusing yourself through the last hour of your job just so you could catch a certain someone in the act.

With your work uniform on and a scowl on your face. Hiking up a hill through a run-down alleyway full of creeps and illegal activities. You finally caught sight of the person you'd been there to catch.

"Get off of me!" You snatched the teenager up by his arm, pinching him through his hoodie. "Jihoon, if you don't walk your skinny ass legs down this hill, I'll drag you," you stomped your heel clad foot, whisper yelling at the young man.

Jihoon was always causing problems, so threatening him like this was most likely not going to get him to listen. His face shriveled up. "You're not my mom!" He hissed back, equally furious - most likely due to the fact you had just pulled him from his group of boyfriends. Right in the middle of selling a pair of off branded shoes- and as soon as they saw you - pretended nothing was going on.

Irritation, through a false guise of shock, littered their faces as you tore and prodded the younger man away from his group of mis fit friends.

"Lee Jihoon," you whisper yelled to him this time, turning his body towards you. You take on the anger in his eyes with a frustrated scowl to clash. "Go and tell your friends you'll see them later, We're going home."

His face was turning red from embarrassment. But he knew you wouldn't back down, especially how stubborn he knows you to be. He smacked your palm off his jacket, huffing out a breath of air and turning towards the group he's with.

Within a few more seconds, he was storming past you. Hunched and full of anger as he made his way out of the entrance of the alleyway.

"Do you understand what you're doing, jihoon? It's illegal!" His footsteps rang loud on the wood of the apartment, ignoring your words- hardly bothering to take off his shoes at the entrance.

Before you could get out another frantic sentence out, he was turning his entire body your way, a snarl to his lips that resembled a dog. "What does it matter!? You're never home anyway! The cops can't pin shit on me-"

"Watch your mouth!" You yelled back, eyes widening. "I'm never home cause I am working! Don't you get that? These nice things you have- the school you go to! I have to pay for all of it somehow!" You gestured to his bedroom, posters and nick nacks littered about. "If I don't work, you can't have these things," your eyebrows furrowed. It was always so frustrating talking to him- with the exact copy of his mother's attitude.

He scoffed, "Whatever" he walked away from you, closing his door with a harsh slam.

These little outbursts would burn and simmer, like the crust on a volcano.

You stepped outside- to have a moment to yourself. Calming down from such a heightened situation- it wasn't good for you to let it bubble. But with jihoon- raising him, it was hard.

The silence of the evening gave you some peace of mind. And despite the situation of your day. You were beginning to feel relaxed, listening to the crickets and the distant sound of cars- cats- and the occasional dog barking.

"Tough day?" Changbin beckoned your attention, his large arms crossed over the balcony, you glanced to your door, having realized he heard everything.

"Yes- well, tough to my standards anyway." You laughed lightly, sighing. Changbin tilted his head at you, taking a long drag of his cigarette. "If it helps.. I know a lot of guys who went through this rebellious phase." he gestured to your apartment door, seemingly talking about jihoon. "They usually outgrow it, yknow, teenagers always act out. I know, I sure did."

You chortle at that. Palming your head as you looked out over the city, finally, you turned to meet changbins eyes, his presence having grown closer, right next to you on the railing. Comfortably, you sat with him for a second longer. "You? Rebellious?" You grinned. The fun- gentle man next to you, the one you've known for at least four years. And still have yet to properly get to know each other.

He laughed, his face scrunching. "What? Do I not seem rebellious enough?" He nudged your shoulder with his elbow, pouting. You laughed again. "No, no, I just wasn't expecting that, considering you're a -" You stopped short, remembering what jihoon had said earlier, you cleared your throat in the silence. He finished for you, glancing out to the city as well. "A cop?"

He leaned back over the railing with a sigh, nodding his head. "I heard that too. He's a bit cocky, considering he lives next to one." Changbin murmured. You shook your head, embarrassed on behalf of the teenager under your care. "I'm sorry-" "don't be. I gave my mom a hard time, too. He'll learn." The man shrugged off your apology, another drag of his cigarette, before he dabbed it out, fiddling with the end.

"But I'm not his mom. He has a reason to give me a hard time." You sighed heavily, letting the words flow before you cut them off, biting your lip. Changbin noticed, he's a keen man, a detailed man, it was a part of his job. He shook his head, twisting his body towards you.

Before he could come up with a sentence, you smiled gently. "Thanks for calling me, I hate when he does that" you groaned, remembering how upsetting it was to witness the young man attempt to brute force his way into getting another schoolmate to buy the pair of shoes they laid out.

Whatever jihoon had been doing wasn't legal. And you knew- you know. So, of course, changbin would know too - he was a cop after all, a detective to be exact, it was his job to notice these things. "Maybe a little juvie would do him some good," you sighed, a poor attempt at a joke- yet changbin still laughed heartily.

"If you need someone to scare the piss outta him, let me know, I've got a few people in mind." Changbin pocketed the end of his cigarette, bumping your elbow with his just as he left.

Wednesday. Always full of woe.

The downpour of rain filtered out the chatter of the company hongjoong was kept in. Barked laughter and forced smiles as the people around him conversed. The only person to take any interest in it was on his right. Seonghwa could make up excuses for the lack of attention his partner was providing. But the grin on the peak of hongjoongs cupids bow was driving Hwa wild with curiosity.

"What has you so happy?" The taller of the two murmured under his breath, his companion heard it - and with a clear of his throat, peaked over his glasses to the dark-haired man. "I'll tell you later"

Seonghwa sighed, bringing his glass of champagne to his lips. "Later couldn't come sooner," he replied with a sigh.

Hongjoong was in a better mood than he had been any other time of the week, with the stress that comes with a business- especially as big as this one- he could finally catch a breath of fresh air.

With one long sigh, the car door finally snapped shut, with seonghwa sitting right beside him.

"Where to?" Jongho, the leaders trusted men (and occasional driver) asked as he glanced through the rear view mirror, his brown hair framing his eyes. Hongjoongs smile perked up, seonghwa had noticed. "You know where jongho" hongjoong waved his question off with a smile, shrugging into his large fur coat.

Seonghwas attention turned back to the blonde seated next to him. "So? Where to?" Seonghwa copied jongho, questioning the shorter- yet beaming man. Hongjoong shifted in his seat, his grin faltering when his tongue poked his cheek. "You'll see." hongjoong kept the secret, seonghwa could argue– but it was typical of the younger to be so secretive sometimes.

Once the sleek black car had rolled to a stop. The evening had set, and finally, the moon was beginning to cast its beams across the streets. Seonghwa took notice of the passing buildings. Unease, unsure of the surroundings- matz hadn't stepped this far out of their comfort zone in a while unless there was a meeting. So the rural area, compared to the city, was a stark contrast to his scenery setting.

Practically bouncing out of his seat, hongjoong ushered seonghwa out of his own as soon as the fur covered man swung open his door. Of course- he was happy about something. And seonghwa was beginning to have a clue.

His eyebrow tilted up at the bubbly, shade wearing man- contrasting against seonghwa who was dressed in the best suit for the earlier occasion. He pocketed his hands, watching hongjoong with curious eyes.

In his right, hongjoong spun with the proudest grin on his face. Gesturing to the open area, a park, where seonghwa had recalled only ever passing by once- back when they were meeting with another acquaintance. Hongjoong beckoned the older man over, lacing his hands over a railing, with one other foot on the steps. He stood proudly over the peering hill, a grin still prominent on his face.

Ah. That's what it was. "You could have just told me," seonghwa mentioned with a sigh, running his hand over his hair and fixing any loose threads. Joong chuckled, "it wouldn't be special that way" he sighed, leaning on the railing- childishly, unable to sit still. Seonghwa laughed airily. "I suppose so, considering it's a wide district." Seonghwa murmured, taking his spot next to the blonde.

Hongjoong shifted his body towards the taller, still looking out over the railing at the quiet below. "It's ours now." Hongjoong whispered, almost unable to believe it himself- crime wasn't easy in this area, the cops were strict, which ended up with tight attitudes and unwilling participants.

But finally, hongjoong found a willing distributor, and he seemed permanent for the time being- until he could be replaced.

"I've got a few of them out here already, watching." Hongjoong gestures to four distinct areas, seonghwa perched his arms on the rail. Glittery lights catching every which way. He turned his attention back to the ecstatic man. "And who's watching them?" He hummed.

There was hardly any trust for the underlings, not to say they weren't loyal to the cause, just that they were easily swayed and amateurs, so of course, seonghwa had to ask.

"Mingi"

Seonghwa took in a hiss of breath, the most loyal of all- a little clumsy though. Hongjoong could sense seonghwas thought. "This one is his. He practically begged for it." Joong sniffled a laugh, recalling the plead of the other member. "He said he could take care of it."

There was a silence for a moment before seonghwa spoke up.

"Do you trust him?" He asked. Hongjoong tilted his head, sliding his glasses to lay on the top of his head. He turned his face towards seonghwa for the first time during their conversation, and nodded.

"I trust you, don't I?" Hongjoong answered.

Thursday.

The following day was just as bad as you thought. Things may seem easier the next morning. But jihoon had still ignored you, even as you prepared him a breakfast along with his fresh uniform. A scowl on his pouty- still childish face. It made you want to turn in and wave the white flag.

So, when you sit at the empty kitchen table, staring at the packaged food –that had been coldly left behind– and reminiscing on how you could hardly get the same treatment from your parents growing up, do you begin to feel the ache of missing your best friend.

You couldn't dwell on it. Not when you had work.

Jihoon is as difficult as his mother. Purgatory thoughts playing in your mind over and over. Although your best friend Lia wasn't shy from being mean - borderline - a bully, she was still loyal and caring, and she loved jihoon. She would have had the best lines to say and tell; to convince him to get his act straight. But she wasn't here. And as his godmother, you had the responsibility to play mommy.

You really wished she was here. She'd know how to take care of these things. You've always been the softer one in the duo.

It's past 12, and you have an early shift tomorrow. You sit at the kitchen table, dazed and daydreaming as you wait. When you think over what could be happening, bile rises in your stomach. Jihoon hasn't returned home, and his phone is apparently off. He has been gone for hours. More so than usual.

What can you even do?

The front door is quietly unlocked in the silence.

You spring from the kitchen chair, watching the door be pushed in, followed by a hooded figure who doesn't bother to flicker on any of the lights.

Your hands are spinning him around the next second, although jihoon is taller than you- the veracity of your movement tugs him to face you.

You pull the hood down next, glaring his bruised face in-between broken orbs and clenched teeth, looking at the fresh cuts along his lip and nose. "Where have you been?" You say, as calmly as you can muster. Jihoons shoulders fall. "Out," he mustered, shrugging his shoulder past you to pull off his jacket.

You pull him back by his upper arm before he can go any farther. He winces but makes no move to push you off. His head is tilted towards the floor, and his breathing is labored - tired from whatever activity he had just gotten up to.

"Jihoon, your mom wouldn't want this -" his hand snakes out of your grasp as if you burnt him. "What did you just say?" He scoffs, clicking his tongue. You don't falter. "Yo-" "No, no, you don't get to do that. You don't get to use that against me cause I don't even know what she was like." You go to cut him off. "You know that's not true-"

His foot meets the stool as he kicks it frustrated, a silent curse coming from his mouth.

"I don't know if anything you say is true, I don't even know if you're really someone she'd leave me with to take care of. It's all just bullshit anyway, right?" His snarky tone wavers, his throat pinching close the longer he stays on this subject.

"I'm going to bed" he brushes you off once more when you attempt to reach out.

And you have the same lump in your throat. You don't know what to say yourself. You don't know how to fix this. You don't know what you're doing.

Friday.

Halfway through your shift, do you get another dreadful call- voice-mail this time, since you can't answer your phone during school hours. On the other end is changbin- but this time, he's just dropping information off for you.

"Hey y/n, I'm sorry to be telling you this, but -" he takes a heavy sigh, "one of my colleagues told me about seeing a kid similar to jihoon.. coming from this new operation we're in the middle of. It's a big nightclub - full of colors - hell, you can see it from a mile away, so just ask around. It just got up and running, we - don't tell anyone I said this - but we're looking at charges if he happens to be caught in there. It's not safe for him. that's all. Call me when you get this- we can go together. Do not go on your own. I'll talk to you later."

The end of Friday is full of dread. The streets are full of characters for the night. Fools and drunks and corner girls and the occasional normal group of friends, no matter who it is- you ask.

"The club full of bright lights?"

A man finally repeats your question. He's not entirely sober, nor is he blackout either. He points over his shoulder, giving lazy directions. But as you go, you thank him. Changbin was right. You couldn't miss it from a mile now that you were in a neighboring alleyway- heaving from having run everywhere to find this place.

The front is guarded with men in jackets, smoking cigarettes, and scaring the stragglers who stare a little longer than they should.

You power through, attempting to blend in with a crowd of rowdy girls who are easily let in- You're stopped by the collar of your shirt, pulled out of it and faced to face with a scarred man, eyeing you up and down.

"Are you trying to sneak in? Hey, why didn't you just ask to be let in? What kind of shit are ya trying to pull?" His heavy palm smacks your cheek, pat pat, your skin reverbs from the tiny hits- its a slap to your pride in a way. You scowl at the stranger.

"Theres someone in there I need to get" you defend yourself, pushing the man off your collar. His snarky grin drops into a scowl, the cigarette dangling from the corner of his lip dangerously. "I'm not buying that princess." The man flicks the ash your way, glancing to the other man on the door.

Your appearance is a contrast to everyone else. Your in your best dress for parent-teacher day, having cut it short to find jihoon. You stick out like a sore thumb. Fuck. You're really not getting past this guy.

You had to do something.

"He's underage! He's a kid, a kid shouldnt be in there- If I can't go in and get him- I'm gonna call the cops!" You're making a scene now- you're panicking, you have no idea if jihoon is okay, no idea whether or not he's doing drugs or getting himself hurt.

You're scared for him. But the glance in both of the men's eyes is your top worry. Threats about the cops coming around seems to gather attention, onlookers glancing your way and beginning to crowd the front door. "Cops?" The first man laughs, snatching your arm up with an icy grip that has you hissing in pain. "Are you threatening us? Ma'am, that's not proper. We're running a business here." His tone is attempting to be lighthearted, but the danger behind his grip and smile is driving the breath out of your lungs.

You're dragged inside by the same guy, the lights, the music- everything screams danger with this situation, not only that but the faces- the troubled people around here is nothing safe. You catch glimpses of people snorting different color substances off each table, tiny shiny and distinct pills littered around. Smoke and the burning smell of cigarettes- and something else, something heavy and damp, funky smelling. Earthy. You body makes contact with the door to a room and you're pushed into it abruptly.

Your feet stumble forward towards the middle of the room, where you finally find your balance. Cards are placed on a wide and round glass table and this place smells the worse of the earthy smoke, it clings to every surface, making you cough. When you do, the man in the center of the red velvet couch in front of you peaks up over his glasses.

His hair is white- silver almost, long enough to tuck behind his ears. He gestures with a ringed finger to the man with you to speak.

"She's threatening to talk to the cops."

"She a regular?"

"No, never seen her around here before"

The silver haired man takes a heavy sigh,, he parts from the woman and men around him to meet you face to face. He's tall- intimidating. His height is no joke. He scans you up and down with dark eyes. Emotions you can't grasp on his features.

Whoever the people are, they aren't bothering to look your way, quiet and head down. Sheep's amongst a wolf. He's obviously in charge here. "Look- I don't know who you are but you have kids in here- this isn't a place they should be-"

The flicker of a lighter sounds through the quiet room. The sound of music muffled behind the door gaurded by the man and another. You watch the silver haired stranger take a drag of a cigarette after flipping his lighter closed, the red pulse of light igniting in front of you, it silences you quickly.

"Listen." He starts with a hum, nodding his head as the smoke hits your face, he takes your hand in his, gently patting his large, calloused fingers over yours. You hesitate to let him have it, unsure of his motive. "I understand your concern, but we don't have kids here sweetheart, we don't allow that. Youth is important to our future, right? Isn't that what everyone thinks?" He glances around shortly, switching out the hand holding the cigarette to cage your palm in-between. You can feel the heat of it, see the ash starting to form at the top.

"That's not true." You whisper. His eyes squint. "You calling me a liar?" He murmurs, stepping closer.

"I'm calling bullshit" you hold your head high.

It's silent. Air so tense and thick, you can't tell if it's the smoke or the feeling lingering in your chest. But this man, he's not safe. None of this is. And you're really testing your luck here. "I need-" you start again. But the sudden burn of specks on the back of your hand makes you whimper in pain, attempting to draw back your limb from the man.

He holds it tightly in his, flicking ash onto the back of it, the sting makes you hiss, before he brings the cigarette back to his full lips, your fingers pale from the force.

He takes a drag, blowing it in your face once again.

"I don't like being called a liar." He pouts into his words, dusting the ash across your skin with his thumb, a warning at most. But it stings slightly when he flips your palm over to examine the lines.

"You come in here and threaten my place, I've only been nice to you this entire time." He holds his free hand over his heart. "What do you want exactly, sweetheart?" He squints down at you. The nickname makes your stomach lurch uncomfortably.

"I told the guy at the front. There's someone in here i need-" "and who is that someone?" You go quiet, squinting up your nose at him. He stares back for the next seconds. One.. two.. three-

There's the stinging burn to your palm, it aches and you screech in pain. Attempting to bring your hand back from the heat. A cigarette that is searing into the soft skin in the middle of your palm. You wail at it, a pain so uncomfortable you forgot it even felt real. The ash darkens when he puts it out. Smearing it across your palm. His eyes are unlike what you've seen, no remorse or mercy, just evil.

"I'm not going to ask again. Giving me attitude when I've been sweet-" "i-im not please-" you beg, anything to stop the pain and sting on your palm, to get the man before you to stop before he does something else, something worse. "Shh, quiet, I'm talking." he pats his palm over the open wound. You whimper once more, tears welling in your eyes. It hurts.

Before his lips fall open again. The door behind you swings open.

It's the other man from the front door. Followed by.. a few individuals, you can hardly see with the blur in your eyes.

"Raeun?" The second man to walk through questions. He's taller- his body adorned in what seems to be the closest thing to a suit. A pair of glasses and short- almost buzzcut black and blonde hair. Raeun- the man who grips your palm looses his grip, and you pull it as quickly as you can to your chest.

"Mingi" he huffs. "Come to join so soon?" He laughs, glancing to you. The man, from towards the entrance does the same. "Yeah, Came as soon as I got the go ahead" mingi replies plainly, walking further into the room. "Leave" he gestures to the people across the couch.

An array of limbs and people pass you, but- when you turn to leave, you're stopped by him. "You, stay." Mingi swings his finger out to call you over to him. Gesturing to the couch.

You really don't know what's going on. But mingi is gentle as he grabs your palm, glancing for approval- you don't respond.

"Seonghwa said no more burns, whats this then?" Mingi tilts the wound towards raeun. The same man scoffs. "She said she was gonna call the cops." "And you think this was gonna stop her?" Mingi groans, letting your hand go. You cradle it back to your chest, watching the tall man step up to raeun.

"Get your shit and go, you're out" mingi turns on his heel, stepping back out of the silver man's way to let him leave. Raeun scoffs loudly, "you can't kick me out of here, I made this place what it is-"

"Yeah and where did that lead you?" Mingi waves his hand out to the club. Raeuns face drops even further into anger. "Fuck- is this about her? We can just pay the bitch off-"

"Raeun" mingi hisses his name. The tension could be cut with a knife and you try everything to make yourself smaller in it. "Get. Out." Mingi points to the door.

Raeuns fit seems to cease, a smile creeping up his skinny features. "Oh, you got the position didn't you? The captain finally gave you something huh?" Raeun laughs loudly, holding his stomach that pokes out of a silky cheetah print shirt.

"Which means you're out." Mingi confirms. "Go." He says once more, it's a threat, the tone speaks for itself. Raeun doesn't bother once more, kicking the door open on his way out.

Your heart drops when the door slams shut behind him. Your labored breath calming to accommodate the quiet in the room. Mingi heaves a heavy sigh, taking a seat on the far side of the couch. His hand rakes through his messy hair, parting the spikes to docile them down. With a single hand in his hair and another reaching out for a glass- presumably full of whiskey, mingi finally glances your way.

You're a shaking aching mess, it doesn't take a genius to notice you're not for this lifestyle. You're dressed like a librarian in the midst of a nightclub for fuck's sake. Your palm is clutched tightly, as if you're attempting to squeeze the pain away. Your eyebrows are knitted and you're curled into yourself. Lost in thought.

"What are you doing here?" Mingi breaks the silence. You jump, turning your head his way.

"I'm looking for someone." You quietly answer. Mingi nods, lifting the whiskey to his lips. "Who?" He asks before he takes a gulp of the alcohol. "A boy, his- he goes by jihoon, he's five-eight- probably taller now- i - we haven't checked in a bit, he's got messy an-and curly black hair- it, well.. he hasn't let me trim it in a while and-" your rambles encourages a bubble in your throat, a sob beginning to form.

You could have gotten hurt worse, you still can, you could die here, you could be trafficked, mingi seems capable of it if he was able to test someone like raeun. And now the only thoughts in your mind are how you wish jihoon hadn't been mad, how you wish he could know you love him- in case you do happen to die, or end up missing. How the last thing you did with him was argue.

Your throat closes in when an image of the younger version of the boy shows up in your minds eye. The sob breaks out "he's just a kid, he's all i got- I'm all he's got, I don't want him here, please" you beg, for his sake, more than yours- mingi is so quiet, his aura is scary, he's not like anyone you've ever met before.

"Hey," he calls softly, your face twisting to see his. His eyes have caved, soft and understanding, his eyebrows furrowing. "I'm going to go get your boy, and you're not coming back. You hear me?"

Mingi makes his statement clear just as he gets up to leave.

The breath lodged in your throat exits as you nod. The dull ache of your hand plays at the back of your mind - finally, you'll be able to see jihoon, and you'll both leave.

You'll leave. Together.

There's no windows in this room. There is no light besides the TV in the corner. It flickers with a show you don't know, a familiar actor beating down on multiple men. Your eyes are blurry - and you wonder if you happen to have a first aid kit at home, possibly - if you haven't used all of the content on jihoon from his many fights and bruises. It feels like an eternity while you wait, hoping for light in the darkness.

You hope jihoons okay.

Your hope is answered when the door once again swings open. Mingi is holding jihoon by the scruff of his neck, pushing him into the room, but he sidesteps out of the way to let someone else in.

The cast of the club lights create a halo around the man, the beads of the entrance jingle when he steps inside, like crystals, the light bounces off every inch of the glass beads, illuminating the man in the fur coat from behind.

His hair is a vibrant blue, His nose has a define point, his lips are naturally plump- He's pretty. Which is a surprise. And you thought Raeun was the boss. No.. it's this man. With his cream colored fur coat and his tight leather jeans, a buckle with a silver star to top it off and a sheer black and white top. His shoes are leather, reptilian in design. A pair of dark glasses slotted against his forehead when he pushed them up. Your eyes meet.

It's dangerous. He's dangerous. Everything screaming. This is the type of man you'd see on TV, draped in luxurious brands and with a snarky attitude to come with it, a past- and scars along his figure, fuck- this guy is no good. He's a snake in man's skin. A wolf in sheep's clothing. And you can tell.

"Mingi" his eyes never stray from yours, as if stalking prey, his voice is light and inviting. Mingi glances his way, then yours with a silent response to the man "captain." He pushes jihoon forward and drags the hilt of his shirt up. You stand- to protest, to tell them don't touch him.

But the ink along jihoons skin is a sign of surprise. Of fear to your racing heart.

"Your boy here," the captain pats the young boy on his shoulder, jihoon grimaces, head down turned. "Has our symbol, he has the mark of ateez, and that means he won't be leaving anytime soon."

The lines of an 'A' are sharp, a circle to encase it, it spans almost the entirety of jihoons left pec. It's fresh ink. your stomach churns and twists. You think you're going to be sick.

"Jihoon is one of ours now." He finishes, clicking his tongue.

"Jihoon?" You quietly call. For him to say it's a joke, a sick one- but his face remains the same. Furrowed and ashamed.

Tears well up in your eyes once again. You've failed - failed as a guardian and failed your best friend. You failed the little boy you were given, and you've failed his father and future.

"Please. Please- okay- he's a child- he's only fourteen!" You plead with the man, slipping to your knees, desperate as you are- you're willing to do anything to prevent jihoon from throwing away his future.

The captains' fingers hold a coin- something you haven't seen before then. The men peer back at you in the dark of the room. "I-" "the ink is already there." He nudges jihoons left side, the boy groans in pain, most definitely sore.

"There's no changing that," he nods towards you, flicking the younger boy's cheek. His eyes are demeaning when he stares down at your figure. This all seems like a joke to him. With one final glance to your shaking body, the vibrant haired man turns away towards the door.

"Please. I'll do anything." You beg.

His steps falter. The coin makes contact with the metal of his rings as he plays with it. It dings every so often, like a clock in the silence over and over.

Clink, clink, clink, clink- ...

"Don't make promises you can't keep." You can hear the perk to the man's voice, a smile through his tone. "I can keep it." You confirm without another beat, gulping back your tongue.

"I can keep my promises."

"I swear on my heart."

[dlscenarios]

Can you write Mikey with a reader who enjoys taking care of him and being affectionate but they aren't dating, so he assumes it's just her personality.

He does love her but finds out she only does that with him because she loves him too. Which leads to a returned confession while he takes her home on his bike.

With a smutty detour or five😅💖

Kiss It Better

THIS HAS BEEN IN MY INBOX FOR SO LONG IM SO SORRY. This gave me SO MUCH UNNECESSARY TROUBLE OML.

MDNI

Cw: SPOILERS FOR THE FINAL FEW CHAPTERS, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH (not detailed), Smut, AFAB Reader, Oral Sex (AFAB Receiving), Surprisingly very tame smut ngl. I MIGHT write a side drabble that's dirtier smut.

Manjiro Sano saw himself as a monster. He had lost so much within the span of a few years and was still only a kid. Through his family and friends' murders, he had to quell his depression every day in order to be the leader he desperately wanted to be. Like his brother had once been. To his surprise, you stayed with him through it all, holding him as tight as you had when you were little. You were his only source of comfort.

It started as you going to the same elementary school. One day, Mikey had invited you over to his house for a playdate, allowing you to meet his other friends and his siblings. The two of you grew older and Manjiro had created his own gang - inspired by his big brother - and you were the boys' personal nurse. You would patch up Mikey and his friends with a smile on your face, softly kissing the leader's bandaged cuts like a mother would.

Even as everything fell apart for Manjiro, you opted to stay by his side. While he never argued, he had a gut feeling that him being this close to you wouldn't end well. He had become an infamous gang leader, even after he had disbanded Toman for the sake of his friends. He would always be the "Invincible Mikey" and other gangs hated him for it.

He should have trusted his gut and cut you off. One day, after the creation of the Kanto Manji gang, Manjiro had learned that you had been murdered. A note addressed to him was found by your body, not stating who had ended your life at such a young age but declaring war on Mikey.

Losing you was the final straw. After your death, Manjiro felt nothing. His dark impulses could no longer be suppressed. The only thing on his mind was to kill anyone that dared to look at him the wrong way.

During the battle against Takemichi and the original Toman, Maniro Sano's life finally got better. After coming to his senses - after stabbing Takemichi - he and the time leaper traveled into the past, farther than even Takemichi had been able to go. The two were little kids again and, this time, Mikey swore to help Takemichi save everyone, especially you.

Meeting you again, seeing your bright smile again, was all Mikey had wished for since your death. His heart fluttered when you walked up to him in class and introduced yourself. He couldn't stop himself from immediately pulling you into a tight hug, which he later apologized for after pulling away. The two of you grew up just like in the other timeline, you being Toman's personal nurse, except this time, everyone survived.

The date that you died in the other reality had been engraved into Manjiro's brain. Now that everyone was alive and happy, he thought it would be a day like any other. To his surprise, that was the very day you confessed your feelings.

Mikey's heart dropped. Did you have feelings for him in the other timeline? Would you have confessed then had you not been killed?

You sat anxiously next to him, his dark eyes wide and beginning to shine with tears. Suddenly, he wrapped his arms around you, as tight as his hug was when you'd first met.

His voice was shaky as he finally replied, "I love you." You smiled and returned his embrace, burying your nose in his shoulder.

From that day on, Mikey's friends knew you as his partner. They could all tell he was over the moon to be with you, Takemichi had even cried and hugged his best friend.

Eventually, it was 2018, the year Takemichi was originally from. He and Manjiro had finally gotten an ending where everyone was alive and happy. Mikey swore he had never cried as much as he did at Takemichi's wedding. His existence had done something good for once. The entire day, he kept stealing glances of you, admiring how pretty you were all dressed up and smiling at how surreal it felt to officially be yours.

It's been a long time coming.

After arriving home from the wedding, Manjiro stopped you before you could walk further into the house, spinning you around to kiss you.

"I love you." He muttered, locking the door behind him.

You smiled, "I love you too."

He returned your grin and placed his hands on your waist, resting his forehead on yours, "You're so pretty."

Mikey suddenly picked you up and carried you off to the bedroom. After gently laying you down, he kissed you again, deeper than the first. His affections moved across your face, down your neck, and had eventually reached your chest. He nuzzled into your collar as he unzipped you from your outfit.

Once you were left in your underwear, his hands moved down to ghost up your legs. You spread your legs as Mikey gently pushed you further into the mattress before he nipped at your chest. One of his hands snaked up to paw at your breast as his kisses got lower.

His finger hooked into your underwear and shifted it aside, allowing him to place a soft kiss to your clit. His dark eyes were locked on your face as his tongue teased you. Your fingers laced themselves in his dark hair, making him groan into you when you would lightly pull.

One of your legs moved on its own, draping itself over Manjiro's shoulder. He briefly parted from your skin to kiss your thigh.

"You're so pretty, baby." He purred, his hand replacing his spot in between your legs, thumb catching your clit. He smirked as you moaned lowly. "Love you so much."

He moved up to kiss you, the thumb that was just on your clit now gently rubbing your cheek. You could feel the bulge in his pants as he pressed his body into yours. His nose lightly touched yours as he chuckled.

"My pretty baby."

Your arms wrapped around him as one of his hands went to pull down his pants, enough space to take out his cock. He teased your core with the tip, grinning at the mewl you let out, before slowly sliding into you. Manjiro knew he wasn't the biggest, but he knew he could easily touch every one of your most sensitive spots.

Your legs wrapped around his waist as he thrusted into you, holding you close with one arm, his other gripping the sheets beside your head. His pace was slow but fast enough to not be teasing.

Manjiro kissed the side of your head, "Love you so fucking much. 'M so glad you're mine." He let go of your body to travel his hand down to your clit, rubbing the nub faster than he had been thrusting.

His hand quickly brought you to your orgasm. Your hips rolled into his as he coaxed you through your high. You whined as it faded and Mikey kissed your cheek.

"So good for me, baby. You did so good. I'm so close." He whispered, his pace quickening slightly. Eventually, his hips thrusted deeper than they had, his hot cum flowing into you as Manjiro groaned into your shoulder.

Both of you stilled, waiting for your heartbeats to calm down. Mikey’s hand caressed your hip as he smiled down at you. Your own hands were in his hair while you returned his grin.

He finally got a happy ending.

[necrotic-nephilim]

I think what I love the most about Reverse Robin AU TimJay is the absolute potential for hero worship with Jason toward Tim. In canon we often forget that Tim didn't really care for Jason as Robin, meanwhile as I never shut up about, Jason has been weirdly respecting and obsessed with Tim since finding out about Tim's existence. So if you flip their order, make Tim Red Hood and make Jason Red Robin, there's so much room for hero worship from Jason.

As Robin, Jason has always teetered that edge of being pro-murder or not. Whether you believe he killed Felipe or not, even in his Post-Crisis introduction as Robin, he almost kills Two Face. Those concepts of lethal justice have always been brewing inside him, just reigned in by Bruce. So if you have Robin!Jason witnessing Red Hood!Tim start killing people and quickly making noticeable change in the landscape of gangs in Gotham, Jason would take quick notice. I think Tim as Red Hood would still be lethal, but there'd be a different application than Jason's Red Hood. Heads in duffle bags isn't Tim's style, even if he kills. I think you'd see something much more akin to that time Tim almost killed Boomerang, where it's such an elaborately thought out set up, it realistically doesn't even look like Tim killed anyone. It'd take months for Bruce to connect this string of deaths as anything other than coincidental, let alone link them to Red Hood. And Jason is wickedly smart, even as Robin. Jason, putting those pieces together before Bruce does and witnessing the undeniable positive change for Gotham it's enacting? Robin!Jason would be incredibly drawn in by that, and then even more-so, a Red Robin!Jason who has to grapple with being replaced to make room for the next Robin would I think, in anger, turn to Red Hood. And Tim would push him away at first, his plans don't have room for a scorned teenager who's trying to get back at Bruce and Nightwing!Damian like this- but I think Jason would wear him down. Prove to Tim that Jason can think on his wavelength.

Slightly related, what interests me about Red Hood!Tim is how it'd implicate his closeness to Ra's. Jason is taken into the League by Talia in Lost Days and Ra's doesn't necessarily approve of Jason's presence, especially not of Talia dunking him in the Pit, but Ra's has always canonically been A Little Weird about Tim. I think in a world Tim dies as the second Robin, it would be Ra's who dunks Tim to preserve his mind that Ra's thinks shouldn't be wasted, and you have the potential for 'apprentice of Ra's' Tim wrapped up in it all, even without him experience the Red Robin arc. So when it's Jason as Red Robin, instead of him going to Ra's when he's scorned by the Batfamily, he goes to Tim. The person he once idolized, because I think Tim would've been Jason's Robin. Smart, competent, a strong legacy to live up to. And now he's back, and he's pro-killing, an edge that Jason has always teetered on and would feel even closer to when he's replaced by a young Dick. I think Tim wouldn't ever be able to get rid of Jason.

Then on Tim's side, I think his reaction to being replaced after his death would be a complicated one. Objectively, being the Robin who believes Batman needs a Robin, he'd respect the logic and know Bruce was always going to replace him eventually. But still, there's always going to be that instinctual emotional reaction of betrayal and replacement. I think he'd view Jason at first with anger and distance, but then, seeing Jason as this street kid with begrudging potential, I could see Red Hood!Tim testing Jason. Constantly throwing things at Jason, seeing how he reacts, if he lives up to being Robin. Tim has a need for analyzing people, understanding their strengths and weaknesses. And he seems the Robin mantle very uniquely, he'd need to have it proven to him that Jason can handle it.

So you would have this dynamic of Jason hero worshipping Tim, slowly believing in Tim's methodology. While Tim is at first dismissive of him, but then starts to test him, see what makes this kid tick. And I think the TimJay potential of Jason trying to prove himself to Tim could be Neat.

[daytaker]

The Gang React to You Saying You Hate Them

As a disclaimer, I'm going to say that these are reactions to you saying it and meaning it, not just being silly or dramatic. However, I'm also kind of assuming in most cases that this is NOT you saying "I am terminating our relationship entirely and this hate thing is a permanent situation."

The rest of the characters are below the cut.

Lucifer

"Very well. You're entitled to your opinion."

Depending on the situation, he might just shrug it off. It isn't like he hasn't dealt with his fair share of unfair whining from people who are upset with him. It would probably take a pretty emotionally charged situation for him to actually take you seriously.

In that case, he probably wouldn't quite know what would be best to do. He'd give you your space, but generally speaking, his demeanor wouldn't be significantly different. If things remain tense for more than a few days, he'll probably attempt to do the mature thing and sit down with you for a conversation to talk through your differences.

Mammon

"Pfft! No ya don't!"

Stage 1. Denial. You're so full of it. You couldn't possibly hate him, the Great Mammon, the first demon you ever made a pact with. You're just blowing off some steam. You'll get over it in a minute or two.

Stage 2. Anger. It's been a minute or two. You aren't backing down. Well, whatever! He isn't gonna sit around and let some whiny human talk shit about him! So he's going to maturely stomp to his room and maturely slam the door and maturely turn up some music obnoxiously loud.

Stage 3. Bargaining. Brooding has done whatever good it might have done, so he'll start to think of ways to change your mind about hating him. He's really an awesome guy, so it shouldn't be that hard. Obviously, the best way to let someone know you care is by spending money on them. So he'll go out on the town with a credit card and max it out on objects that are very pretty and shiny but really aren't your taste. (The fact that Mammon's taste is not the same as everyone else's taste mystifies him.)

Stage 4. Depression. The shopping trip having earned him nothing but abuse from Lucifer, he'll spend some time cooped up in his room and mope and sulk but definitely not cry, because how pathetic do you think he is? He ain't cryin' over one puny human!

Stage 5. Acceptance? Wait just a minute. You're so full of it. You couldn't possibly hate him, the Great Mammon, the first demon you ever made a pact with. He should stop sulking and go talk to you. Definitely not to beg you to forgive him or anything, but maybe if you squinted, it might look like that. Please don't hate him. Please?

Leviathan

"...I guess I should have known."

This is one of the choices that leads you straight to a bad ending. Ignoring him is one thing. Teasing him is another thing. Snapping at him when you're annoyed hurts, but he can justify it. But if you tell Levi you hate him, it will take a monumental amount of effort to undo that damage.

He'll probably assume you've always hated him, and that your friendliness was all an act. He won't be willing to take you at your word if you if you try and tell him that you didn't mean it, because how is he supposed to know that you aren't lying this time?

Satan

If he's (relatively) calm:

"You don't actually mean that. You sound like a child."

His reaction is a little bit like Lucifer's in this case; he'll leave you alone for awhile and not try to keep up the conversation. He won't really believe you actually hate him either. But he is a lot more insecure than Lucifer, so there's a part of him that nags at him... What if they actually hate you? He'll probably be irritable and difficult to approach when those thoughts are especially prevalent. Unfortunately, this is the sort of situation where Satan is immobilized by conflicting thoughts on what's going on, so it will probably be up to you to start a conversation and talk about whatever happened.

If he's very angry:

"Get out of here if you don't want to get hurt."

Whether that's a threat or a warning can be up to interpretation. I imagine that, as the Avatar of Wrath, there's a part of him that feeds on hate, so if Satan was a different sort of character, he'd say something like 'You fool! You're only increasing my power level!' But Satan being Satan, he'll spend some time in whatever room you've left him in and trash it before he calms down, feels extremely ashamed, sulks and/or broods for awhile at a complete loss for how to fix things without rolling over and looking completely pathetic, and, quite possibly, works himself up into another burst of rage from sheer frustration.

Ultimately, he'll probably be more comfortable talking things out through texts than in person (or starting the conversation with a text, then speaking face to face).

Asmodeus

"Hahaha... What...?"

He won't believe you for a second! Partly because, silly, of course you don't hate him, but also because his worldview does not allow for the possibility that someone he cares about might hate him. If he even considers the possibility that you might possibly, hypothetically mean it, he's in for an entire, earth-shattering identity crisis.

If you don't apologize pretty quickly or at least amend the statement to something he can accept, Asmo will head up to his room and hole up in there for awhile, obsessively tracking his social media accounts and pampering himself in the bathroom. You're lying, though. Look at this face! It's impossible to truly hate a face as beautiful as his.

Beelzebub

"Oh... Sorry..."

First he'll look like a deer in the headlights, and then he'll look like a kicked puppy. If he understands what led you to say this, he'll try and fix it, but if he doesn't, he will... (Select an answer below.)

A) Play video games with Levi. B) Go clubbing with Asmo. C) Eat. D) Learn to break dance.

If you guessed C) Eat, then you've been paying attention during your Obey Me! lessons.

And honestly. Honestly! Why would you say something like that? Maybe he's not your favorite brother, but we all know it's simply not possible to actually hate Beel. We all know you're full of it. So knock it off.

Belphie

"...Beel, did you hear something?"

Yep, Belphie is going to pull out all the pettiness he can scrounge up. He believes that the best defense is a good offense, and he's a pro. He'll act haughty and unbothered, ignoring you and looking entirely unbothered between sulking sessions under the covers.

Pettiness aside, you have, knowingly or otherwise, tapped into a source of deep anxiety in your relationship with Belphie. He has not forgotten the whole...incident that took place when you freed him from the attic. He knows that, reasonably, you probably should hate him, and it's amazing to him that you don't seem like you do.

Once tempers have cooled, it might be worthwhile to talk over what happened back then, just the two of you. It was pushed aside too quickly, and you both probably have things you wish you'd said.

Diavolo

"It seems I've upset you. Please know that I never meant to offend you."

He'll see that you're angry with him and give you your space, but he won't be as torn up about this as some of the others. Why? He simply won't believe you.

He has seen your soul, and it is not the soul of a hater.

Barbatos

"Oh?"

Yeah, get in line. Considering the amount of time travel shenanigans this guy has probably pulled, I have no doubt he has amassed more than his fair share of enemies. More than that, he already knows this is just you blowing off steam. Like Diavolo and Lucifer, this is just water off a duck's back.

Although, depending on how irritated he's feeling at the time of the incident, he may or may not wear a smirk as he gives his noncommittal response. Barbatos might be the man with the multiverse in the palm of his hand, but he is not above being petty. Watch your back for a few days.

Solomon

"Ah... It seems I've hit a nerve! I think I'll give you some time to cool down."

He'll back off and leave you to manage your anger in peace. Then he'll settle in to focus on some project or another that requires his undivided attention. He doesn't want to deal with all the unpleasantness that your words stirred up. Honestly, didn't he get past this sort of thing a few centuries ago? What's a little spat between friends? You don't actually hate him; not after all he's done for you. He can't possibly be feeling insecure...?

Nope, all he's feeling is itchy because of the toxic gas that's starting to pour out of his cauldron. He should open a window.

The Angels

I can't even do Simeon and Luke, because they'd both just be so confused and sad that I'm not sure where I'd go with it besides scolding you for being a bully. You don't just say "I hate you" to angels who are either extremely sweet and attractive or actual children.

[bitches-who-write]

HeadCannon imagine thing of how each of the bowers gang would react to clingy s/o with daddy issues/daddy kink(lmao I can’t believe I’m asking this), who grabs onto each of them like a koala or smth while they’re talking.

Like

Idk if it’s confusing but the things where you go

• Patrick would lose his MIND

• 100% would blah blah blah

Those things lmao

MY GOD THIS REQUEST IS FROM January 7th, 2022, 12:54 AM. WE"RE SO SORRY. You probably don't care about this by this point but we thought we'd do it anyways.

How the members of Bowers' gang would react to a clingy S/O with daddy issues who likes to grab onto their arm while they're talking to someone or doing something:

Henry Bowers

At first, Henry might find it a bit annoying, especially when he's trying to maintain his tough image. He might pull away or snap at her.

Over time, Henry starts to understand her need for affection and reassurance. He'd begrudgingly let her cling to him, especially if no one important is watching.

Henry would become extremely protective. If anyone makes a comment about her being clingy, they'd better watch out.

In private, Henry would be a lot more understanding and might even hold her close, though he'd never admit to enjoying the affection.

Victor "Vic" Criss

Vic is probably the most understanding of the group. He'd immediately pick up on her need for comfort and be accommodating.

He'd gently reassure her, telling her it's okay to hold onto him whenever she needs to. Vic has a soft spot for her vulnerabilities.

Unlike Henry, Vic wouldn't mind showing affection in front of others. He'd wrap an arm around her and make her feel safe.

Vic would be the one she'd turn to when she needs to talk about her issues. He's a good listener and offers comforting advice.

Belch Huggins

Belch might be a bit confused at first about why she's so clingy but wouldn't mind it too much.

He's pretty laid-back, so he'd just go with the flow. If she wants to hold onto his arm, that's fine by him.

He'd make lighthearted jokes to try and make her smile, easing any tension she might feel.

Belch would become protective if anyone made her uncomfortable about her clinginess. He'd stand up for her without hesitation.

Patrick Hockstetter

Patrick might find her clinginess annoying at first, but it would also intrigue him. He'd be curious about her need for affection.

Patrick might exploit her daddy issues and clinginess to manipulate her, but over time, he could develop a strange sense of protectiveness.

He'd become possessive, not wanting anyone else to be the object of her affection. He'd insist that she only clings to him.

Despite his initial reactions, Patrick might develop a hidden soft spot for her, enjoying the feeling of being needed and important to someone.

[sunny-mercya]

Goth Moth

Shinichiro Sano x Male Reader

Fandom -> Tokyo Revengers

Requested by -> Anon

Masterlist

Your love for fashion—and your own style, a more philosophical approach to the much more darker beauty of life and death and all whats lay in the shadows beneath—had been stemmed from your older twin brother, by a hour as you had been a late baby—Wakasa.

It had already begun in the early teen years, when Wakasa—much to mothers disdain as she always nags in anger, that boys should be boys and if her own boys wants to be more feminine than she would have prayed for daughters to be born—had taken a interest in anything fashion related and you followed quick afterwards with the same quick starting passion.

In contrast to Wakasa, who likes to wear much more colourful clothes with mostly floral designs on it—his favourite being roses—you wore much darker themed clothes, more in the Gothic department.

Your gothic style—especially dark blue, almost pitch black, Blouses with ruffled cuffed and those few minimal touches of silver and white (and the occasional lone (f.flower), in homage to Wakasa as he had gifted you these when you were in the hospital) with tight skin hugging trousers—your trademarking outfit—is how you had met Shinichiro in the first place.

And it was your gothic style as well, which had earned you the silly nickname „Goth Moth“ —thanks to both, Shinichiro and Wakasa—within the gangs and groups, although your only active role in said gangs and groups were that of a secretary.

~~~

It's a Saturday night and the restaurant—Wakasa had the bright idea to take you and Shinichiro, his one and only future brother-in-law, out for some dinner—was filled close to the maximum capacity of being overfilled with costumers.

The hours passed and all well went—Shinichiro having the most talk with Wakasa as you, despite your minijob, didn't really care for gang affiliation related topics—till some guys, one or two tables away from you, decided to spurt some drunken nonsense.

Shinichiro wouldn't be bother by it, having learnt to ignore such and choosing battles wisely, if it weren't for the fact that these drunken men were spurting some sexual and sexism words towards you.

You weren't bother by such either—having come across such bigotry and ignorance during your school years, you're used by it as your appearance in contrast to Wakasa weren't by the norm of society (not that you cared about such misconceptions anyway)—but it does bother Shinichiro the more he listen, because they have no damn right to utter such judgemental bullshit.

»Shin, leave them be. They're just drunk.« Wakasa tried to defuse, seeing how his friend got angered within the passing minutes—jaw clenched already.

»Fuck it. Let's fuck them up all bloody.« Wakasa had changed his mind in a instant, when one of those bastard did not only catcalled you—which was, doesn't matter what gender even, never okay to do so—but also shouted words to you, which shouldn't be repeated.

You sighed, shaking your head in disbelief—boys, you think, dumbasses you muttered—smudging some of your eyeliner, eyes gotten a bit dry from the cold air conditioner air.

~~~

Sitting in the park, next to Shinichiro—head leaned against his shoulder—with take away food and watching the sunrise, had something romantically to it.

Shinichiro and Wakasa—claiming to defend your honour and you just looked at your two dumbasses in confusion, because it wasn't like as if you weren't able to defend your supposed "honour" (both of them watched Mulan a bit too intense and much) yourself—did make their threat come true and with good violence dragged the men outside and beat them up.

After, it had been spontaneously decided to take a stroll through the city and the park—which leads to the now and here.

You wouldn't trade with what you have with Shinichiro for anything in the world.

»What's that for?« Shinichiro asked, a bit taken by surprise, when you gave him a kiss on the cheek.

»For nothing and everything,« you said, smiling.

[violenteconomics]

Twst but the first-year gang become actual licensed professionals cause Crowley will donate to the Vacation Fund if they do?

anything 4 u, baby.

actual licensed professionals in what, though, is the question? 🤔

maybe the nurse quits because of their extremely low wages, so crowley convinces the first-years to go to freaking medical school to get licenses to practice medicine (because he is NOT going to be sued if things go poorly), and all of them start working in the infirmary part-time for 100 thaumarks a day.

sebek is already the son of a dentist, and he's surprisingly really intense about it (IT'S MY FATHER'S LEGACY, AND I WILL CARRY IT WITH HONOR) so you have him filling in cavities and stabbing people and saying that the knife going through their arm wouldn't have hurt if they had just flossed, obviously. given all his swords training, he's also in charge of applying ointment to cuts and making casts for broken bones. he's also great

being a pomefiore student, and combined with his newly-secured medical license, epel can mix up an extremely potent healing potion. being an apple farmer from harveston, he can also expertly mix epels into the concoction so that it tastes a little less like dirt. students start going to epel instead of crewel for their health potions because his don't make them feel like throwing up, lol. he also gains a reputation for cursing out people who keep showing up with the same injuries every damn day. ("WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU GOT BUCKED IN THE FACT BY A HORSE AGAIN, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU--")

ace is very good at noticing little details in people (always thinking about his fairy gala vignette fr), and can almost diagnose someone the moment they step through the infirmary door. the rumors of his genius ability spreads through the school like wildfire, and next thing you know, he's putting actual sage's island hospitals out of business because now people are going to him instead of actual adult doctors, and ace just. doesn't notice?? like he genuinely thinks full-grown adults coming to him for his expert opinion is just a part of his job description as a high school nurse.

while deuce has a license, he's still not very good at being a medical professional. first day on the job, he knocks over all of epel's potions, catches the infirmary on fire, and gives their anemic patient the flu... somehow. luckily, as we all know, deuce has the charisma of a million gods, so he's in charge of calming people down in the waiting room that he also helped to decorate. the harsh blue on yellow walls are a little much, but eh. deuce is cute, so he makes up for it. some people come in for check-ups just to talk to him, because the rizz never ends.

ortho is like. all the hospital machines in one tiny robot body. he is your x-ray, your weight scale, your height scale, and your radio if your laid in bed and bored... if you don't mind listening to hetalia character songs, lol. he'll switch to something different if you want, but you can't actually tell him what to play, because he's not being paid to play music for you so he doesn't feel the need to heed your request. you are literally at his mercy when it comes to music, so you better get used to listening to oshi no ko's opening theme on loop while you're laid up in bed for the next five hours.

jack does the actual physical stuff -- checking reflexes, writing up prescriptions, using ortho to take x-rays, that sort of thing. people are a little intimidated by him, especially the kids, but all it takes is letting them pet him between the ears for them to calm down. importantly, he is literally the only one of the freshmen to realize that they're doing a lot more work than they probably should be for seven people in a school full of people who'd rather relocate their dislocated limbs themselves than admit they need help. not that he says anything about it because, well, they need the vacation money.

yuu is their ever-exhausted secretary. they're in charge of scheduling appointments, receiving calls, managing their budget, and growing herbs in the botanical gardens, because ingredients for healing potions don't grow on trees... they grow in bushes. they're so overworked, it barely ever occurs to them that maybe some of the people scheduling for appointments really shouldn't be there??? like this girl is literally 6, why is she coming to us about her aching tummy-wummy.

the first-years's medical practice becomes famous around sage's island, and they're over here trying to figure out where they're going to go once they've raised all their vacation money, lol.

[nelkcats]

Amity's hero

Don't let Amity Parkers lose their hero or you will face the consequences; even good intentions can become unforgivable

The Justice League didn't speak directly to the G.I.W, they didn't quite take their word for it but reports of ghost attacks and property damage caught their attention, the call log with the multiple Amity Park appearances being the most ignored of the list practically marked as spam broke their hearts.

So they arrived as a team, yelling about getting rid of the ghosts, certain that their presence would only cause long-term damage, Phantom immediately showed up, questioning what was wrong; they simply ignored him and began to recite that he and his kind should return to his place of origin (because these ghosts must have a place far from earth, right? They had read something about them living in another dimension), ignoring all Phantom's pleas by simply listening

Unlike a few years ago, Amity Park was not under attack, it had a direct truce with Infinite Realms in which the ghosts were on their best behavior, playing with humans, protecting them from unknown entities (because this was their Amity, they were territorial), keeping at bay the animal ghosts that came out of natural portals, and turning from villains to heroes, being led by his King Phantom, the one who started it all.

The ghosts were happy with the arrangement and with being able to visit human world; Klemper, Lunch Box and Youngblood made a lot of new friends, Ember had concerts, Johnny and Kitty formed their own biker gang, Spectra was the psychologist she'd tried to be at first, Walker kept everyone in line, even ghosts who straight up preferred the realms visited from time to time: Pandora, Frostbite, Ghost Writer, etc. Even Nocturn tried to give everyone good dreams.

But the heroes didn't care, they considered everyone as "threats" and threatened them, Phantom, completely tired of being ignored looked towards his city and gave them a sad smile, you couldn't reason with those who didn't want to listen to you "If we do that Amity could be in danger" he tried one last time, the league didn't know how to deal with liminals.

"We'll protect them, you're just invaders making them sick in the end" Green Lantern snorted, as if it was the obvious solution "So get out and leave these people alone"

"Fine, but when you see how badly you end up handling everything, call us" Danny was tired, he could reason with his own parents and not with all these "heroes", he supposed it was better to teach them the consequences. He tossed a Fentonphone at them, hoping they'd do the right thing.

Flash felt uncomfortable when he saw the ghost children approaching the humans, were they attacking them? He was about to interfere when he saw the human children approach the ghosts to hug them and cry together; he reasoned that made sense, sure the kids didn't know their friends were dangerous, but something inside of him wasn't satisfied with that answer.

Then Danny just whistled, attracting the attention of the ghosts in the city "Well, you heard them, go back to the realms" complaints could be heard, both from the ghost and the human sides. But for now, the halfa had some kind of plan in mind.

Wonder Woman felt especially uncomfortable when she saw Pandora walk past Phantom, giving her a disappointed look, Batman told her that surely she wasn't her friend, and that if she was she wouldn't be the same person, but she wasn't so sure about that.

The ghosts withdrew from Amity then, going through the portal that the Phantom himself had opened in the center of the city, each one of Justice League members could feel the hateful looks pointing directly at them "It's for the best", Batman informed them "we'll assign you heroes that monitor that they do not return"

"NO" that seemed to be what broke the silence "We don't want any more heroes, Phantom is our hero" and with that said, a girl of about 8 years old hugged the halfa's leg, crying uncontrollably "Please don't go"

The League was about to interfere when Phantom reached down, picking up the girl "I don't want to leave Stacy" he whispered stroking her back lovingly, hoping she would stop crying "But the guys over there say I'm a danger to you and you know I want to keep you safe" he kissed the girl's head, handing her over to her parents "I love you Amity Park, thank you for loving me back" he told the population affectionately, before going through the portal.

The League just looked uncomfortably, once there were no more ghosts they informed the city that they would send heroes regularly for protection and monitoring the situation but the city inhabitants just scoffed.

"You don't get it" Dash spoke, completely furious "Phantom is to Amity what Batman is to Gotham" he frowned "And rest assured that this city will protect him from you, we don't care if you told him to leave, we'll bring him back, you're way over your head on this" he continued "Of course, you don't understand because you're the hero in this scenario, and you don't know what a city feels when you take away their hero"

The Justice League only watched as the townspeople turned their backs on them, but they reasoned again that it was for the best, eventually the townspeople would understand.

A few days passed and Amity declared itself isolated from the League, every time they tried to send a hero they rejected, over and over again; dozens of different heroes couldn't get past the limits because they were shot, taunted, or simply knocked unconscious before entering. Superman was starting to regret destroying Phantom's phone but they had to know how it worked, at the end it was a regular phone with weird aesthetic.

The only "hero" who managed to cross the limits was Red Hood, who at the end of the day became a messenger "You don't understand B, that city is out for blood" Jason tried to reason with Bruce "They're furious, I swear I saw a 6-year-old boy practicing archery and the target had your head placed in the center" it was not normal for Jason to worry, Bruce was a hero, but for the same reason he did not know what it felt like when you lost one. Amity had basically been building her own army within the barriers, they even offered him refuge away from heroes "You must talk to them."

"Mhm" Batman hummed, pulling out his comlink to schedule a meeting, he'd thought of calling one anyway, he'd had sightings of what looked like animal ghosts all over Gotham but they were basically invincible, he wondered if it was Phantom's revenge.

"Just give them back their hero Batman" was what the commissioner Gordon told him when he asked for an opinion on how to deal with the reaction of the city "They're right, you don't know what it feels like"

Of course, Batman couldn't be wrong, so he guessed Gordon's comment was due more to his weariness. Upon arrival he noticed everyone completely dejected, basically stating animal ghosts and ¿drops? through all their cities. They couldn't fight any of them so they decided to go back to Amity, they figured if they had fought these things for years they must have knowledge.

Upon reaching the city, although they were allowed to pass, they were greeted with mockery, half the population carried one weapon or another, the League was tense "Having problems so soon?" Paulina looked at her neon green nails, she was sure she could cut a man with them "You should have accepted Phantom's help, you know"

"Phantom was a threat invading your city" Batman growled "we saw the reports, his continued presence caused medical changes in all of you that you won't even let us see"

"Make no mistake" Mikey interrupted him "Amity was always an access point to the Zone, we were contaminated long before you existed" and of course they would not trust this heroes with their liminal status, Frostbite was already helping them before all the mess and they did not need to add human doctors with no knowledge.

"Then what do you suggest? We let the ghosts come back and destroy the whole city?" Hal scoffed, completely incredulous of how they were being treated, from the first second they refused to give any useful information.

"It's funny that you think we can't defend ourselves" Paulina rolled her eyes "you all could be beaten by Mikey, and is Mikey, no offense" she shot a look at the boy next to her.

"None taken" Mikey shrugged, it wasn't the first time.

"The thing is, we're just used to it; we like to be protected and not have to protect ourselves, it may sound cowardly of us but we're civilians" Kwan spoke "we're not defenseless, but we prefer not taking action, our hero made sure of it so we don't like to take cards in the whole self-sacrifice thing"

"Phantom is a danger" Superman tried to stand his ground.

"For us?" Star sneered "Or for you?"

"Besides, if you think we don't move out of the city for aesthetics, you're wrong, we just like to feel safe" Dash yawned, bored with the conversation "Phantom and the other ghosts are territorial, it's kind of nice, no threat gets past that sign, rates of crime? Zero, very difficult to want to kill or assault someone if they can come back as a ghost to kill you I guess"

"But the reports" Flash was worried about the indifference.

"The reports from 5 years ago? Before we had the truce that you guys ruined?" Star sneered "I'll call Sam or Tucker and bring Phantom back, we'll start the truce again, get out of Amity"

"You can't do that." Superman crossed his arms, trying to remain threatening as Hal muttered in a panic about breaking peace treaties and the Oa wanting his head.

"Oh, but we can" Paulina approached Superman, running her hand over his arm "and we'll do it" slowly, she placed her fingernail on his suit, cutting the material and drawing blood from the hero, who immediately moved away at the threat.

"Get the hell out of Amity and don't come back" Dash rolled his eyes, stroking a ghost snake, the heroes tensing more at their newest enemy.

"It was you?" growled Batman; recognizing the snake as one of the many haunting Gotham.

"Not exactly, the veil ruptures always existed" Kwan said, stroking the head of a ghost wolf "We only tame them, or send them back to the Realms, if there were veil ruptures it's not our problem" he looked towards the League "If any of them escaped because we weren't watching and they followed your scent it's not our fault either"

"And can you tell us um, how to deal with them, or tame them?" Flash tried.

"No, since you are sooo good at gathering information I'm sure you will come up with something" With that said, Dash motioned for the snake to lead the heroes away and before they knew it they were all thrown away from the city.

[yandere--stuck]

If you're still taking requests, would you be able to do something again with Arkhamverse Joker?? (Or even Scarecrow, ANYTHING with that skinny lil horror boy please) I love ALL of your Batman work.

Just give me anything, I'm starving for some dark and creepy batvillians.

“Alright, sweetheart, just tell me who did it,” The Joker cooed from behind you, his hands resting at the plush blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

Both you and The Clown stood in front of the maw of the Sionis Steel Mill. You hadn't been outside in so long. The thought of making a run for it flitted through your mind, but you just as quickly discarded it. Joker was holding you pretty tight, but even if you broke free from his grip, presented before you was a line of Joker's men desperate to do anything to gain their boss's favor. And even if you made it through all that, you were smack dab in the middle of Arkham City. If the elements or starvation didn't get to you first, it'd be the other inmates - especially if they had gotten any inkling you might be precious to The Clown Prince of Crime.

Somehow, beyond all odds, you were the most safe in the arms of Gotham's most dangerous criminal.

Even with the multiple layers covering you, the wind cut through you like a blade. You'd been dressed in specially made pajamas the Joker commissioned, layers of winter clothing, and a large blanket he'd wrapped you up in before escorting you outside. And it made looking upon Joker's gang all the more uncomfortable. 

Compared to you, Joker's men wore precious little. Tank tops or sleeveless hoodies, some wearing no top at all, old worn pants, and their very own clown masks. You couldn't see their eyes, but you imagined that behind their masks, they glowered at you. Why wouldn't they hate you? After all, you were why they were freezing out here. Their boss had given them orders to never, under any circumstances, allow any harm to be brought unto you.

And then, Joker found the bruises.

“I don't want to get anyone in trouble,” You insisted, craving your neck to attempt eye contact with The Joker.

“Nobody's in trouble,” The Clown nuzzled you, voice almost a purr. “I just want to know who did it.”

You bit your lip. Something burned and swirled like a whirlpool in your stomach, rising to your chest. “It was my fault. I bumped into something.”

“Darling, it's okay. I'm not mad. Just point ‘em out for me.”

Your lips quivered and you screed your eyes shut. Burying your face in your hands, your whole body shook. You couldn't do this. You didn't want to. Sure, the guy roughed you up, but at least he didn't fucking kill you. And maybe whoever did it was a criminal at best or monster at worst, but you didn't want someone to die at the hands of The Joker because of you. You weren't supposed to be here. You were supposed to be in Gotham proper, living your ordinary life and not in Joker's base. You weren't supposed to be the object of Joker's obsession. You shouldn't have had to be transported around by goons, goons who were already frustrated and pissed as it was, and only exacerbated by their boss’ obsession with you and threatening them if he even thinks they're looking at you.

God, why was this happening to you? You just want to go home! You couldn't even scream, couldn't even cry, not now, not like this-

One hand released its grip on your shoulder to press against your back and brush soothing circles against you.

“Honey, baby, sweetie-darling, there's no reason to be upset!” Joker hushed. “You're not in any trouble. I'm not mad. I just want to know."

Still shaking, you dared to turn and meet the Clown's gaze. Puffing out a cloudy mist in the icy cold air, you ventured, “You promise you're not angry?”

The Joker beamed, holding up a hand. “Scout's honor!”

The both of you stared at each other for a long moment. His pupils were dilated, acidic green eyes nearly swallowed up by his dilated pupils. He stared back at you with utter adoration. 

Really, him being angry would have been less terrifying.

With a shaky exhale, you nodded. Ripping your eyes from him, you surveyed the crowd. The man in question wasn't hard to find. You knew the mask well. Lime green hair, a red clown nose, red, painted-on cuts and marks across the mask.

He was one of the henchmen ordered to transport you from one part of the base to another. You'd been terrified, shaking, near hyperventilating, and scared stiff to the spot. And he had grabbed you tight enough to bruise and shoved you through the halls, the other goons following behind. Just remembering it lit a spark of fear and anger in your gut. And even still, you hesitated to call him out.

Shivering, you slowly raised a finger to point at him, your digit like a death mark.

“Him,” you breathed out.

“Him?” Joker asked, pointing at the same man.

You nodded. You fought the urge to squeeze your eyes closed as The Joker waved him over.

The masked man approached both of you. You couldn't help but lean further into Joker. You tried to convince yourself it was the cold. He stopped a few feet away, but Joker motioned him even closer, until he was almost right on top of you both.

“This true, Bud?” Joker asked.

The masked man held his tongue for a moment. His whole body seemed tense. And if you had to guess, he was likely glaring daggers at you from behind the mask. And then finally, a soft sigh escaped him, body relaxing as he nodded. 

“Yeah, boss,” he admitted. “It was me.”

“And do you have anything to say to my darling here?”

Your breath caught in your throat as the goon turned directly toward you. You tried to keep totally still. Don't flinch. Don't show fear. You could feel his gaze burn into you. And Joker's grip tightened on your shoulder. Maybe reassuringly. Maybe possessively. 

The masked goon paused, simply staring at you, before he gave a lazy nod. “Yeah. ‘M sorry.”

Huh. That wasn't so bad. Turning to look at Joker you saw him nodding. A relieved smile began to bloom onto your face as you turned back to-

The sound of unfolding metal hit your ears. A gloved hand stretched out and yanking through hair. The stumbling forward of a body and. Your eyes widened as Joker grunted, pocket knife sinking into the man's throat.

He held it there for a moment, looking deep into the eyes of the man behind the mask, before wrenching the knife out. Blood spurted from the man’s neck as he gurgle, clutching his throat. Again, Joker struck, plunging deep into the man's neck and ripping it out. Again. Again. Again. And all you could do was watch, eyes the size of dinner plates and mouth agape in horror.

You finally found the ability to move your body again, and you hunkered down, hiding your eyes with your hands and stumbling back as Joker continued his assault. You shivered and shuddered, beginning to cry. You couldn't see it anymore, but you could hear the sounds of the blade meeting flesh, the desperate and violent gurgles of someone drowning in their own blood, the quick and sharp grunts of Joker as he plunged his knife in and out in and out in and out in and out-

You couldn't tell how long it went on, only that at some point, you couldn't hear anything else besides Joker's shaky breathing and the harsh whistling of the wind. Your hands and cheeks stung from cold and tears.

When you dared to uncover your eyes, The Joker was looking back at you. As if he was waiting for you to see - to see your attacker's head barely connected to his neck, near decapitated. The moment he saw the recognition in your eyes, the man's body was dropped like it was nothing.

"But, but," You stuttered, mouth trying to catch up with your mind. "You said, you said you weren't mad?'

"Not at you, darling," he smiled adoringly. "Never at you."

The Joker pocketed his bloody knife and clapped his hands free, addressing his men. “Now, let that be a lesson for all of you,” the clown leaned over to wrap an arm around your shoulder. You quickly cuddled into his hold (but only because of the cold. Only that and nothing more). Joker finished with a grin, “anyone who hurts my darling gets the same.”

Breathing heavily, your eyes surveyed the reactions of the henchmen. For some reason, you felt torn on how you felt about them. Pitied Joker's treatment of them, but was highly aware of their perspective of you being an obstacle, inconvenience, or even enemy-

You nearly jumped as Joker brought you out of thoughts by a kiss to the cheek. You were quickly turned around, The Joker guiding you inside and nuzzling against your cheek.

“You must be so stressed out, dear! C’mon, let's get warmed up inside and watch some cartoons!"

And when you're both inside, curled up together in a mound of blankets and cartoons playing on the screen, you tried to convince yourself tje obly reason you held him back was out of fear and to keep out the cold.