#if it's something that makes you uncomfortable then i think more importantly than anything else you need to uncover WHY u feel like that

[inkskinned]

it's been said before and i'm sure said better than i can phrase it. but really, really - if you like making "i'm going to kill myself" jokes, please try switching to being ironically conceited instead.

anytime something goes wrong, say things like "ah well at least i'm beautiful and charming and everyone loves me." when you forget something, try "my big huge brain is so smart and thinking about too many other very big wizardly thoughts you wouldn't even understand." when you're frustrated by one of your symptoms, start talking like you're in My Immortal. "Life has come for me but my eyes are beautiful pools of gorgeous fire and my hair is amazing. I stuck my middle finger up at life and told it to fuck off and it did."

just... try it for a month or two. try saying the most absurdly self-congratulatory shit you can think of.

i know it's tempting to make suicide or self-harm jokes. and for me at least, a decade ago (!) when someone suggested i stop making those kinds of jokes, i was kind of at a loss for what to replace them with. i wanted to make light of these moments, but genuinely (at the time) my first thought really was suicidal ideation. there was a part of me that even felt like ... i was kind of "making light" of that voice. that if i could say i want to die lol, it would help take the sting out of that genuine (albeit passive) desire. like i could turn my illness into a joke.

when i started complimenting myself instead, it felt awkward and stupid. it felt really, really ironic. what i was actually saying was nobody would ever think this stuff about me, that's what makes it so fucking funny.

but. the effect was immediate. first thing i noticed was the people around me. when i dropped a glass and said ah my skin is too beautiful and sleek the glass has swooned and broken for me, other people were suddenly overjoyed to jump in with the joke. rather than making an awkward moment, we'd both start cracking up. ah princess sleek hands, i've heard of you.

i was 19. i hadn't noticed i'd been making others tense when i said i want it all to end. i know now that it's incredibly hard to know how to walk that moment - do you talk to them about your concern? do you potentially make them uncomfortable by asking if they're okay? do you ignore the situation? do you help them pick up the glass, or do they need to do it by themselves? are they genuinely made suicidal over this small moment? and most importantly, how do you - without professional training or supplies - actually help?

most people want to help you pick up the glass in your life, they just have no fucking idea how to do it. they don't want to make anything worse. they don't want to make assumptions about you. they love you, they're scared for you - and being scared makes people kind of freeze up. it's not because they don't love you. it's because they do.

now when something bad happens, my first thought is how can i make a stupid joke about this. it isn't my brain saying you're a dumb fucking bitch. i spend more time laughing. i spend more time being gentle with myself. i spend more time feeling good.

and the thing is - what's kind of funny - is that you'd be surprised by how many people agree with you. the first time i said i'm too pretty to understand that, someone else said to be fair you're the prettiest person in this room. i promise - you really don't know how kindly your friends see you. but they love you for a reason. they sort of reverse-velveteen-rabbit you. your weird and ugly spots fade away and you just become... the love they want to give you.

go love yourself ironically. the worst thing that happens is that you end up tricking your reflection into actually loving you.

[butterfly-lies-chase-them-away]

Bunny (Part 3) - Health Ledger!Joker x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Joker x Fem!Reader Joker x Reader with Anxiety

Word Count: 12,588

Warnings: murder, Joker, minor age gap, police (ew)

Summary: Imma cut to the case, girly loses her car

(Part One) (Part Two)

A/N: Hey...how yall doing... Sorry I kind of disappeared off the face of the earth for a little while...my bad, I have made a few posts explaining how my life's been a mess recently, so had to take a step back from all this for a while. I don't know how often I'll be able to update things/post, but I'll do my best with the time I had, it might just be a bit slow, sorry And thank you to everyone that reached out to me, it's so sweet to have you guys looking out for me and all that, thank you so much, it means the world and thanks for reading most importantly, it's good to see people enjoying my fics 💚 SO! it's been a while, but I hope I didn't disappoint :) Enjoy~

-

It had been over a week since Y/n had last seen Joker. A week since the night he brutally beat the shit out of Max, the image still lingered in her mind, as did his words. How he made it clear she wasn’t allowed to have anyone else in her life. After everything that happened, Y/n couldn't bring herself to attend classes. The risk felt too great, she didn’t want to anger Joker any more than she already had. She had been isolating herself in her dorm ever since, barely leaving except for quick trips to the bathroom or to grab food from the dining hall. It was as though the walls of her small room were closing in on her, and the world outside felt too dangerous to face.

Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if Joker had been around to break the monotony, to bring some kind of human interaction into her lonely routine. His presence, unpredictable as it was, might have been better than the suffocating silence. But then again, he was the one who had forced her into this isolation. Did she really want comfort from the same man who had made her feel trapped in the first place?

Well...yes. Yes, she did. 

As much as she hated to admit it, Y/n missed him. Missed J. What if he was right? What if she truly didn’t need anyone else? After all, people had always made her feel uncomfortable, anxious. Except for Joker. Despite his chaos and unpredictability, he had a way of making her laugh, of making her feel seen and special. Strangely enough, there were moments when he even made her feel safe. And when she really thought about it, she only doubted him when he wasn’t around. It was in his absence that the questions and fears crept in. But when J was by her side, everything seemed brighter, more manageable. It was like her doubts evaporated in his presence, leaving behind only the spark he ignited in her.

She had no idea why he hadn’t called or shown up in the past week. Maybe he was busy with fuck knows what. Y/n had been avoiding the news along with people, deliberately shutting herself off from anything that might clue her in to Joker’s latest chaos. She hated hearing about his “exploits”, it made everything feel too real, too overwhelming, as if by hearing about his crimes, she became more entangled in his dark world. And she wanted to keep that part of her life as far away as possible.

But then a chilling thought crossed her mind. What if he was dead? Her heart skipped a beat, her chest tightening as her breathing grew ragged. Could that be it? Joker, her Joker, dead? No, it wasn’t possible. He was the Joker, larger than life, untouchable. But if that were true, then where was he? Where was her J?

Panic crept up her spine. The more she thought about it, the more her mind spiraled. If something had happened to him... no, she couldn’t let herself think like that. But still, the gnawing question lingered. Why hadn't he shown up? Why hadn't he called?

Y/n sighed deeply, closing her eyes as she curled up on her side. The bed, usually a place of solace, felt cold and unwelcoming tonight. Or, to be fair, every night. She just wanted—

“Leaving your window ajar? Bit dangerous in this society,” a familiar voice drawled, smooth yet taunting.

Y/n's heart skipped a beat, and her eyes flew open. She whipped around in her bed, gasping in disbelief. “J!” she cried out, her voice full of relief and joy.

Crouching in her window, Joker looked as mischievous as ever, his signature grin stretching across his face. His sharp eyes glittered as he swung one leg inside, then the other, landing silently on her floor. He stood there, his frame casting a shadow across the room, but there was an undeniable magnetism in his presence. He radiated danger and yet, to her, there was comfort in seeing him, as twisted as that comfort was.

"You missed me, Bunny?" he smirked, straightening up as he sauntered over to her bed. 

Y/n didn’t hesitate. She shot up from her bed, her feet barely touching the floor before she rushed across the room and threw herself into Joker's arms. The moment she felt his grip tighten around her, it was as if the weight she'd been carrying all week lifted. She buried her face in his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of him, a strange mix of cologne, smoke, and something undeniably Joker.

“Miss me that much, huh?” he teased, his voice low and amused as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her firmly against him.

Y/n sighed deeply against his chest, a sense of relief flooding through her as she melted into his embrace. The loneliness and emptiness that had weighed her down for days seemed to evaporate the moment he returned. With Joker there, her once dull, lifeless room suddenly felt vibrant and alive again, his mere presence filling the space with an intensity only he could bring.

"Where have you been?" Y/n asked softly, her voice muffled as she kept her face pressed into his chest.

"You know...around," Joker replied casually, his voice as nonchalant as ever.

Despite the vague and careless answer, Y/n found that she didn’t really care. Not right now. All that mattered was that he was here, in her arms again, filling the emptiness she had felt all week.

"And I come bearing gifts," Joker's voice took on a playful edge. He reached behind his back, pulling something out from beneath his coat with a dramatic flourish. In his hand, a bouquet of flowers appeared. Slightly wilted, the petals crushed from being stuffed behind his back, but flowers nonetheless. "Flowers," he declared with a crooked grin.

Y/n couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped her as she accepted the bouquet. "A little beaten up, but still lovely. Thank you."

Joker leaned in closer, his smirk deepening. "Had to put them somewhere while I climbed up here. Couldn't exactly carry them in my teeth." He said, baring his stained teeth.

Y/n blinked at him in disbelief, her heart doing a small flip at the thought. "Why in the fuck would you climb up here? I live on the fourth floor!"

Joker shrugged, clearly unfazed. "Keeps me sharp. Plus, I like to keep things...interesting." 

Y/n shook her head, a mixture of amusement and disbelief running through her. Of course, Joker would think scaling a building was a fun way to make an entrance. It was reckless, just like him, but that same unpredictability was what made him so captivating to her.

Y/n carefully placed the flowers on her bedside table, their slightly crumpled petals a reminder of Joker's unconventional affection. She turned back to him, her fingers curling around his wrist as she gently tugged him toward the bed.

Without missing a beat, Joker kicked off his shoes, the movement fluid and practiced, as if he’d done it countless times before. He climbed onto the bed, settling down with a casual ease. Sitting up for a moment, Joker shrugged off his coat, tossing it to the floor, then stretched out his arms, inviting Y/n into his embrace.

Without hesitation, she slipped into his arms, pressing her cheek against his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat was a strange comfort to her, a grounding presence in the chaos he always seemed to carry with him. Joker sighed, letting his head fall back against the pillow, his fingers lazily tracing the curve of her back.

"You uhh...haven’t left your dorm in a while, have you, Bunny?" Joker’s voice was casual, but the question was laced with an undertone of curiosity.

Y/n froze for a second, the truth settling heavily in the space between them. She shook her head slowly, not wanting to delve into the reasons why.

Joker tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as he looked down at her. "Wanna tell J why?" he asked, his tone almost coaxing.

Instead of answering, Y/n only shrugged, burrowing deeper into his chest, as though she could make herself disappear within his arms. The weight of everything she had bottled up, the isolation, the fear, the confusion, it was too much to put into words. All she wanted in that moment was to feel small, safe, and sheltered from the overwhelming reality pressing down on her.

Joker let his fingers gently stroke Y/n’s head, his touch both soothing and reassuring. The room was quiet except for the rhythmic sound of their breathing and the occasional creak of the bed as Joker shifted slightly.

“Come on,” Joker began after a moment, his voice a soft murmur against the silence, “tell J.”

Y/n remained nestled against him, her voice barely a whisper. “I just...I didn’t feel like leaving. Things got complicated, and I didn’t want to risk…I don’t know, making things worse.”

Joker’s expression softened slightly, though his playful smirk remained. “Complicated, huh?”

Y/n nodded against his chest, her fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt as if it were a lifeline. “Yeah. It’s been hard, trying to make sense of everything. And...I guess I’ve been scared.”

Joker’s hand slid up to cup her cheek, tilting her face up slightly so he could meet her eyes. “Scared of what, Bunny?”

Y/n swallowed hard, feeling the lump in her throat. “Scared of...disappointing you...And of you being angry.”

Joker’s gaze softened further, and he pulled her even closer. “Hey, you don’t need to be scared. Not with me, Doll. I’m not going anywhere, and I’m certainly not gonna hurt you. Not a chance.”

Y/n looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and lingering worry. “But sometimes, you make me feel like I’m walking a tightrope…Like I can’t breathe.”

Joker’s fingers traced gently along her jawline, his touch tender despite the intensity of his gaze. “I get it. I do. Sometimes I…push too hard, and…” he sighed, rolling his eyes, not wanting to admit it. “It’s not always about what’s best for you. But remember, Bunny, you’re mine. And I don’t just mean that in some possessive sense. I mean it in a way that means I care about you…Even if I don’t always show it the right way.”

She managed a small, appreciative smile. “I know. It’s just hard to balance everything.”

Joker’s eyes softened, and he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “We’ll find that balance together, yeah? Just you and me on that little tightrope of yours. And maybe, if you’re willing…We can…talk more about what’s been going on. Mhmm?”

Y/n nodded, feeling the warmth of his words and his presence. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to fully relax into his embrace. For now, the world outside seemed far away, and in this moment, it was enough to simply be held by him.

“Will you stay the night? Please?” Y/n asked, her voice soft and pleading as she snuggled closer to him, her fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt.

Joker’s eyes dropped to her, his expression shifting from his usual playful mask to something softer, yet still tinged with mischief. He raised an eyebrow and gave a theatrical sigh. “What, in this tiny little bed?” he teased, casting an exaggerated glance around the small space.

Y/n’s heart sank slightly, but she maintained her hopeful gaze, her eyes glistening with a mixture of hope and anxiety. “Yes, please. Just tonight.”

Joker’s smirk widened, and he gave a dramatic shrug as if considering the request. “Oh, alright,” he said, with a hint of reluctance. “But only because I’ve missed you too.”

He shifted, making himself more comfortable on the small bed, adjusting his position so that he could hold her more securely. His playful demeanour didn’t fully mask the warmth in his eyes, which softened as he looked at her.

As Y/n settled into the crook of Joker’s arm, her breathing began to even out, the steady rhythm of her chest rising and falling in a peaceful cadence. Joker watched her with a mix of tenderness and fascination, his usual chaotic energy replaced by a rare, serene calm. Her face, softened by sleep, was framed by stray strands of hair that had fallen across her forehead.

He carefully adjusted his position, making sure not to disturb her slumber. With a gentle touch, he reached over to pull the covers up over both of them, tucking it snugly around their bodies. The soft rustling of the fabric was the only sound that filled the quiet room, a stark contrast to the loud chaos of their usual lives.

Joker’s eyes remained fixed on her for a moment longer, taking in the sight of her so serene and vulnerable. The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast a warm light over her face, highlighting the delicate features that had become so familiar to him. He couldn’t help but let out a quiet sigh, a rare moment of contentment washing over him as he admired her.

Once he was satisfied that they were comfortably covered, Joker finally allowed himself to relax. He shifted slightly, arranging himself so that he could hold her close, feeling the comforting weight of her against him. With one last glance at her peaceful face, he closed his eyes, letting himself drift off into sleep. 

It was a rare and almost mythical sight. Joker sleeping. Sleep was a luxury he seldom afforded himself, a mere afterthought in the whirlwind of his life. His existence was a constant rush of adrenaline and chaos, where sleep was more of an inconvenience than a necessity. Yet, tonight was different. Tonight, the demands of his chaotic world seemed to dissolve, if only for a brief moment.

As he lay beside Y/n, the darkness of the room enveloped them in a cocoon of calm. The usual sharpness in his features softened in sleep, his furrowed brow easing into an uncharacteristic serenity. The once restless energy that drove him now lay dormant, replaced by a quietude that felt both foreign and oddly comforting.

He allowed himself this rare indulgence, surrendering to the soothing rhythm of Y/n's breathing and the gentle warmth of her presence. For tonight, he set aside the complexities of his world and the incessant ticking of his internal clock. This rare pause from his relentless pursuits, was all for her. 

For his Bunny, he was willing to grant himself this brief escape, allowing the world outside to fade into the background, leaving only the serenity of their shared night.

-

Y/n stirred awake slowly, feeling an unfamiliar warmth around her. Blinking against the soft light shining through the window, she realised she was still tucked in Joker's arms. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm beneath her cheek, the sound of his heartbeat oddly soothing. For a brief moment, everything felt surreal. Joker, the Joker, lay sleeping peacefully beside her. 

She tilted her head slightly to look at him, taking in the sight of his face softened by sleep. The sharp edges of his usual expression were gone, replaced by something almost...human. His arm was wrapped securely around her waist, holding her close as if even in sleep, he wasn’t ready to let her go.

Y/n’s heart swelled with a mix of emotions. Relief, tenderness, and a quiet sense of disbelief. She never expected to wake up like this, cradled in the arms of a man so dangerous and unpredictable, yet, in this moment, he felt like a safe harbour in the storm.

As she shifted slightly to get more comfortable, his grip tightened instinctively, pulling her closer as if he could sense she was awake. A small smile tugged at her lips, and for the first time in a while, she felt a flicker of peace. Being with him might have been turbulent, but in moments like this, when it was just the two of them, the world seemed to pause.

"You're still here," she whispered softly, half to herself.

Joker didn’t stir, still lost in the rare tranquillity of sleep. Y/n snuggled back into his embrace, her body relaxing against him once more, savouring the fleeting moment of calm before reality inevitably caught up with them again.

Y/n gazed up at Joker’s sleeping face, her heart swelling with a strange mix of emotions. There was something captivating about him like this. Vulnerable, peaceful. It was a rare sight, one she had never quite imagined she'd be lucky enough to witness. He looked so different without the tension he carried when he was awake. His sharp features, which usually wore a wicked grin, now seemed softer, almost innocent in the quiet of the morning. Well, they would be, if not for his makeup. 

For a moment, she couldn’t help but think back to a week ago when she had almost seen him without his makeup for the first time. That day, everything had been different. He had been furious. She didn’t wanted the first time seeing his bare face to be like that, so she simply did not look.

But now, in this stillness, Y/n found herself longing to truly see him. His makeup had always been a mask, a barrier between the world and the man underneath. What did he look like when he wasn’t the Joker, when he wasn’t playing the part of Gotham’s most dangerous criminal? She had seen glimpses, but it wasn’t enough, it wasn’t right. She wanted to see him in a way that felt personal, intimate, something shared between just the two of them.

Her hand twitched, tempted to reach up and trace the lines of his face, to wipe away the remnants of his painted mask. She wondered what it would be like to see him with nothing to hide behind, no makeup, no games. Would he let her? Could she ask him? The thought made her pulse quicken, a mixture of curiosity and nervousness rising in her chest.

“Staring at me while I sleep, huh?” he rasped, his voice husky from sleep.

Y/n’s breath hitched as his eyes opened, their familiar intensity returning as they focused on her. His lips curled into a lazy smirk, amusement flickering in his gaze. Y/n blushed, caught in the act. She quickly glanced away but didn’t pull back from his embrace. 

“I just…I’ve never really seen you like this before,” she whispered, her fingers lightly resting on his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

“Well, don’t get used to this,” Joker said, a teasing edge to his voice as he noticed Y/n’s pout.

Y/n’s eyes remained fixed on his face, captivated despite the conversation. Joker’s brow raised as he caught her intense gaze. “Got a staring problem?” he asked, amusement lacing his tone.

Y/n hesitated, her words tangled in her throat. “I just…” she started, struggling to find the right way to express her feelings.

Joker’s eyes softened slightly, and he leaned in closer, his breath warm against her cheek. “It’s the face paint, isn’t it?” he guessed, his tone almost affectionate as he read her with an unsettling accuracy.

Y/n’s heart fluttered, and she nodded, not hesitating. “Yeah,” she admitted softly.

Joker’s smirk widened, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. “You had your chance, remember? But you wouldn’t look at me,” he teased, fake pouting.

Y/n bit her lip, her gaze returning to his. “I didn’t want to…not when you were angry with me,” she admitted. “I didn’t want that to be the first time I saw you. But now…I want to see you.”

“Curiosity killed the cat,” Joker said with a smirk, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“But satisfaction brought it back?” Y/n ventured, her voice tinged with uncertainty as she searched his face for clues.

Joker leaned in closer, the proximity causing Y/n’s breath to catch in her throat. His gaze lingered on her lips, and she let out a soft gasp, feeling the heat of his presence. “Have I satisfied you yet, Bunny?” he asked, his voice dropping to a seductive murmur.

The air between them crackled with an almost tangible tension, thick with an electric charge that seemed to pulse with every breath. Y/n felt a rush of warmth spreading beneath her skin, a heat that was both exciting and unsettling. Her heart raced in response to the intimacy of their closeness, each beat echoing in her ears. Every subtle shift in Joker's gaze and every brush of his breath against her skin amplified the sensation, making it feel like a live wire against her nerves. The intensity of his presence was overwhelming, stirring a mixture of longing and apprehension that made the moment feel almost unbearable in its potency.

Despite the charged atmosphere, she had to be honest. “Well, no…I want to see your face,” she admitted, breaking the spell of the moment.

Joker’s dramatic eye roll and the click of his tongue were almost theatrical. He pulled back, the playful irritation clear in his expression. 

For a moment, Joker said nothing, just watching her with that unnerving intensity of his. Then, he let out a low chuckle, his thumb brushing along her jawline. “You’re full of surprises, Bunny.” He leaned in closer, his breath warm against her skin, this time, it wasn’t lustful, but gentle. “But if you want to see me…you’re gonna have to be ready for what comes with it. Think you can handle that?”

Y/n paused, mulling over Joker's words. What did he mean by that? What was the consequence of seeing him without makeup? Doubts began to creep into her mind. Did she really want this? Was it worth the uncertainty?

Joker noticed the turmoil written all over her face. With a heavy sigh, he reached out and gently patted her head, breaking the spell of her thoughts. “Not today, Bunny,” he said softly.

Y/n nodded, a resigned understanding settling over her. She could wait a little longer.

Joker then slid off the bed, retrieving his coat from the floor and slipping it on. He shoved his feet into his shoes with little care. “Gotta go, Bunny.”

“You just woke up,” Y/n said, confused.

“Well, crime isn’t going to commit itself,” Joker replied, holding his arms up like it was obvious.

Y/n frowned, but Joker just rolled his eyes. “I ain’t never been a saint. Don’t act like that.”

She sighed and sank back into her bed, feeling the emptiness left by his soon to be departure. Joker leaned over her, his face close, but his expression softened.

“I’ll stop by tomorrow, hmm?” he said, pulling his lips back, waiting for her answer.

Y/n managed a small smile and nodded in agreement. Joker responded with his trademark grin, placing a quick, playful peck on her lips before pulling away with a pop.

“Until then, Bunny,” Joker said, his tone light as he strutted to the window.

“You’re not seriously leaving through my window in broad daylight!” Y/n exclaimed, disbelief in her voice.

“Bye bye!” Joker said with a playful wave, completely ignoring her protests as he made his exit.

Y/n scoffed, reflecting on how it was a miracle Joker had never been caught. Hell, it was a surprise she hadn’t been caught up in his world herself. But dwelling on that was pointless.

As she lay in bed, she realized how much Joker’s presence had lifted her spirits. She hadn't felt this good in ages. In fact, she felt an unexpected surge of motivation. Not enough to drag her to her classes, but certainly enough to get out of her room.

Determined to make the most of her newfound energy, Y/n pushed herself off the bed and began getting ready for the day.

-

Sitting in her car, Y/n surprised at how far she’d come. She hadn’t expected her motivation to last her this long, but a sense of satisfaction and excitement bubbled up within her. The day ahead was a blank canvas, she wasn’t sure what she’d do, but with the wads of cash Joker had given her, she was confident she’d find something worthwhile in the city of Gotham.

Turning the key in the ignition, the engine roared to life with a reassuring hum. As she pulled out of the parking lot and onto the streets, the city’s pulse seemed to sync with the beat of her heart. Gotham’s towering buildings and neon lights flashed past her as she drove, a blend of curiosity and anticipation guiding her through the city maze. She was ready to explore, ready to embrace whatever the day had in store.

Or, you know…just take it easy.

Y/n decided to park her car in a quieter part of the city, if that even existed. She wandered towards the waterfront, drawn by the promise of calm against the backdrop of the city’s frenetic pace. The unfamiliar sun cast a warm glow over the water, and the gentle breeze carried the scent of the polluted sea. She found a little ice cream stand nestled on the waterfront, its colourful display tempting her with a variety of flavours. After scanning the options, she chose simple chocolate. Ordering was easy enough, she barely even hesitated with her words. 

With her ice cream in hand, Y/n strolled along the waterfront, savouring each lick of her treat. The rhythmic sound of waves lapping against the shore was soothing, even if the sound was momentarily interrupted by rubbish washing up along with it. 

She watched families and couples enjoying their day, feeling a sense of normalcy and contentment she hadn’t experienced in a while. For a few moments, she let herself be immersed in the simple pleasure of the afternoon, enjoying the sweet taste of freedom and the soothing ambiance of the waterfront.

As Y/n continued to stroll along the waterfront, the initial thrill of her outing began to wane. The gentle breeze and the pleasant scenery no longer held her attention as they had at the start. Instead, a sense of weariness started to creep in. The excitement of walking around Gotham’s and the novelty of her day out were giving way to a quiet longing for the comfort of her own space.

She finished her ice cream, the last few drops of chocolate lingering on her fingers. The sun was beginning its early descent, casting long shadows across the boardwalk and signalling the end of a day well spent. Yet, Y/n found herself feeling more tired than refreshed. The energy that had once drove her spirits was fading, replaced by a growing desire to return to the familiarity and solace of her dorm room.

With a sigh, she turned away from the waterfront and started making her way back to her car. Her steps were slower now, her earlier enthusiasm replaced by a comfortable, if slightly melancholic, fatigue. The dull cityscape blurred into the background as her mind shifted to the thought of sinking into her bed and enjoying the peace of her own space.

As Y/n reached her parked car and began to pull her keys from her pocket, she suddenly felt a heavy pressure on her back. A chilling presence loomed behind her, sending a jolt of fear and anxiety through her entire body.

"Give me the keys," a gravelly voice demanded.

Her breath caught in her throat as she glanced over her shoulder. The dim glow of the streetlights revealed the glint of a handgun, hidden in the man's jacket but now pressed against her back. Trembling, she nodded and, with a shaky hand, retrieved the keys from her pocket. Her heart pounded in her chest as she slowly extended her arm, letting the keys drop into his outstretched hand.

With a rough, demanding grip, the man seized her shoulder and shoved her aside. Y/n stumbled and fell to the ground, her palms scraping against the pavement. The world seemed to blur as panic surged through her veins, her mind racing with shock and fear.

Y/n watched in stunned silence as the man sped away in her car, its engine roaring defiantly as it disappeared down the street. The reality of the situation sank in with a harsh, bitter sting. Her heart pounded as she pushed herself off the ground, her hands shaking as she brushed dirt from her clothes.

“...Fuck,” she said, with a shaky breath.

She stood up and began walking, her steps heavy and sluggish. The streets seemed endless, stretching out before her as she trudged along. With each step, her mind was a whirlpool of thoughts and worries. How was she going to explain this to Joker? The thought of confronting him, of admitting she’d lost his gift, filled her with dread. 

She imagined Joker’s reaction. His anger, his disappointment, the sharp, biting words he might hurl at her. The fear of what he might do to her for failing to keep his gift safe weighed heavily on her shoulders. She’d already been through so much, and the thought of facing his potential wrath was almost too much to bear.

Y/n’s footsteps echoed through the quiet streets as she trudged on, the cold night air biting at her skin. The glow of the streetlights offered little comfort, casting long, eerie shadows that seemed to mock her misfortune. She glanced down, wishing for a miracle or some kind of way to fix the situation before it reached Joker’s ears.

The sense of dread continued to gnaw at her, each step furthering her anxiety. How could she face Joker and tell him that his precious gift was now gone? The thought of his reaction, the potential fallout, was overwhelming. All she wanted was to get home, to crawl into bed, and to forget about the chaos of the night.

-

So much for feeling good. Y/n was restless throughout the night, her nerves frayed and her mind a whirlwind of anxiety. Despite the fleeting sense of fear she had of Joker showing up, sleep eluded her. She had half-expected Joker to storm through her door at any moment, demanding answers about her missing car, but the anticipated confrontation never happened.

As the hours ticked by, the night passed in a blur of fitful tossing and turning. The following day dawned with a heavy weight of dread. Y/n managed to get through the day without a single sign of Joker. Yet, the silence only heightened her apprehension. She knew deep down that he would come eventually, and she would have to face him. The thought of revealing the truth and dealing with the consequences loomed over her like a dark cloud, but she knew she’d have to deal with it.

Right on cue, the dorm door creaked open, and Joker’s voice boomed through the small room. "Honey, I'm home!" His tone was playful, but Y/n couldn't muster a smile.

Sitting on her bed with her legs crossed, she stared down at her hands, sniffling softly. Joker frowned, the door slamming shut with a careless kick as he stepped further inside. 

"Bunny?" he called, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

Another sniffle escaped her, and without hesitation, Joker crossed the room, crouching in front of her. Gently, he tilted her chin up with a light touch, forcing her to meet his gaze. Her face was red and blotchy, eyes puffy, and lips swollen from crying. His brows furrowed, and he sat on the edge of the bed, leaning in closer.

"Hey, Bunny...what's with the tears?" His words were casual, but the concern in his voice was unmistakable.

Y/n swallowed, tears still threatening to spill over. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Joker’s eyes narrowed slightly. "What’d you do?" His voice was softer now, but his curiosity was piqued.

"I...I lost my car." The words came out between sobs, her shoulders trembling with the weight of them.

Joker blinked, processing. He leaned back a little, brow arching. "Lost it? What? In a bet or something? Just tell me who, and I’ll get it back. Hell, I can get you a new one if you want." He grinned, trying to brush it off, thinking it couldn’t be that serious.

But Y/n shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. "No...some guy stole it. He had a gun, J. He made me give him the keys..." Her voice cracked, and she buried her face in her hands, overwhelmed with guilt and fear.

Joker froze for a second, the lightheartedness vanishing from his expression. He studied her, the anger building beneath the surface, though his tone remained calm. "He had a gun?"

“I’m sorry, J. I didn’t mean to…” Y/n's voice was muffled by her hands as she cried, her body trembling.

Joker's jaw clenched, a dangerous fire flickering in his eyes. Someone threatened his Bunny. Someone had dared to put a gun to her, to take something from her, which ultimately meant taking from him. 

His hands balled into fists at his sides, the knuckles whitening from the sheer force of his anger. It wasn’t the car that mattered, it was the audacity of it all. Someone had made her feel vulnerable, scared, and Joker couldn’t stomach that. His rage simmered, barely contained, but he knew he had to keep it together for her.

Leaning forward, he gently peeled her hands away from her face, forcing her to look up at him. His grip, though firm, was tender in a way that was reserved only for her. “Look at me,” he said, his voice low and dangerous but laced with an unusual gentleness. "This wasn’t your fault. You hear me?"

Y/n nodded weakly, her tear-streaked face still full of guilt.

Joker's thumb brushed away a stray tear from her cheek, his gaze softening for a brief moment. “No one touches what’s mine,” he muttered under his breath, more to himself than to her. The intensity in his eyes darkened, a promise of vengeance. “I’ll make sure whoever did this regrets ever breathing near you.”

Her lip quivered. "But…"

"No 'but's, Bunny. You did what you had to. They had a gun, you did the smart thing." His words were laced with conviction, his eyes burning with a wild resolve. 

Joker tilted her chin again, this time with a smirk creeping back onto his face. “And when I find this guy, well…” He chuckled darkly. “He’ll be wishing he never woke up this morning.”

Y/n swallowed hard, feeling a mix of comfort and fear at his words. She knew Joker well enough to know that he wasn't bluffing. Whoever had taken her car wouldn’t just lose the car; they'd lose much more.

He leaned closer, his lips grazing her temple, whispering against her skin, “You’re mine, Bunny. And I protect what's mine.”

She nodded again, feeling her pulse quicken under his possessive words. As dangerous as he was, she couldn't deny the sense of safety that came from his presence. The world outside might have been chaos, but in Joker's arms, she felt like nothing could touch her.

"Now," Joker continued, pulling back slightly, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Tell J however much you remember, mhmm?” His smirk widened, and for the first time since the carjacking, Y/n managed a small, shaky smile.

Y/n took a shaky breath, wiping the remnants of tears from her cheeks as she tried to gather her thoughts. “It all happened so fast,” she began, her voice still trembling. “I had just finished walking around and was heading back to my car. It was parked by the waterfront, you know? And...and then this guy came out of nowhere.”

Joker’s eyes narrowed as he listened, already piecing together what little information he could. His patience wasn’t exactly legendary, but when it came to her, he could wait. He needed the details.

“He…he had a gun,” Y/n continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t even notice him at first until he was behind me…and he put the gun to my back. He told me to give him the keys, and I-” She stopped, her voice breaking. “I just handed them over. I didn’t know what else to do.”

Joker’s jaw clenched, but he remained silent, letting her continue.

“He was tall, I think? I didn’t get a good look at his face…he had a hoodie on, dark clothes…But that’s all I remember.” Y/n shook her head, clearly frustrated with herself. “I’m sorry, J. I didn’t see more.”

Joker stroked his chin, eyes narrowing in thought. Tall. Hoodie. Waterfront. It wasn’t much to work with, not nearly as much as he liked. He hated operating blind. But he wasn’t about to let that stop him. He’d figured out worse with less, and for his Bunny, he’d make it work. 

His mind raced, already formulating a plan. He knew the city like the back of his hand, knew the gangs, the small-time crooks, the desperate ones who operated in the shadows. He could already think of a few places to start looking.

Joker exhaled through his nose, a humourless grin forming on his lips as he looked down at Y/n. “Not much, huh? You’d think these idiots would be more creative.” He rubbed her arm, the action strangely soothing despite the edge in his tone. “But don’t worry, Bunny. I’ll figure it out.”

She looked up at him, her eyes full of uncertainty, but there was something else there too. Relief. Relief that he was taking control of the situation. That, in his own chaotic way, he was there for her.

Joker chuckled, his expression dark and predatory. “Oh, I’ll find this guy. And when I do, he’s gonna wish he never crossed paths with us.” His thumb brushed across her cheek, the intensity in his eyes growing. “No one messes with you and gets away with it.”

Y/n nodded, trusting him. Joker always found a way to get what he wanted, and she knew, without a doubt, that whoever had taken her car wasn’t going to have a good day when Joker finally caught up to him.

Joker hopped up off the bed with a sudden burst of energy. “Imma make a quick call, okay, Doll?” He shot her a grin before heading to the window. Just as he reached it, he turned back to her with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “And uh…block your ears,” he added.

Y/n didn’t need any convincing. She pressed her fingers firmly into her ears, muffling the sounds of the room, watching as Joker leaned halfway out the window to make his call. The sight of him there, trying to be all business while hanging out of her dorm window, was almost comical. It was clear he was doing it to keep her from overhearing the conversation, though she wasn’t sure if it was more for her safety or his secrets.

Whatever he was saying, the call didn’t last long. After a minute or two, he pulled the phone from his ear, a satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He slipped the phone back into his coat pocket and made his way back over to Y/n.

“And now,” he declared dramatically, “I’m all yours.” Without warning, he flopped onto the bed, half-crushing her under his weight, his arms draped lazily around her.

Y/n couldn’t help but giggle at the suddenness of it all, her chest filling with warmth as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding him close. It felt nice, almost normal in a way that contradicted everything about them. But that was what she loved. 

Joker rested his head against her, and for a moment, they simply lay there, the world outside her dorm fading away. In this small, stolen moment, it was just them, and Y/n let herself get lost in that, even if she knew it wouldn’t last forever.

Joker sprawled out across Y/n’s bed, one arm lazily draped around her waist while his other hand absentmindedly twirled a strand of her hair between his fingers. Y/n leaned into his touch, letting herself sink into the moment, but a thought nagged at the back of her mind.

After a few minutes of silence, she spoke up, her voice quiet but insistent. "You know, J...maybe you should give me some way to contact you."

Joker raised an eyebrow but didn’t turn to look at her. Instead, he continued playing with her hair, his body still relaxed. “Oh, yeah? Why’s that, Bunny?” His voice was playful.

Y/n sighed, shifting a little in his arms so she could look up at him. "I can’t keep sitting around wondering when you’re going to show up next. What if I need you? Or...just want to see you?"

Joker’s fingers paused for a second, and his eyes flicked down to meet hers. “Hmm...that’s cute. Really, it is.” He pulled himself up a bit, propping himself on one elbow, his face closer to hers now. “But here’s the thing, Doll...You can’t have my number. Or anything like that.”

Y/n frowned, confused. “Why not?” She felt like a desperate fling, constantly begging for something more, but never quite getting it. 

Joker’s smirk grew, but his eyes darkened with a touch of seriousness. He leaned in closer, brushing his lips against her ear as he whispered, “Because, Bunny, I can’t risk someone finding out that you’re in contact with me.”

She pulled back slightly, trying to meet his gaze face on. “You think someone would track me down? Just because I can reach you?”

Joker let out a low chuckle, but his expression remained cold. “Not just someone. Everyone. The moment they sniff out a little…connection between us, you’ll be in the spotlight, and trust me...” He paused, trailing his finger lightly down her cheek. “You don’t want that kind of attention. You’d be in a lot more danger than losing a car, sweetheart.”

Y/n’s stomach flipped at his words, her mind racing. He was right, of course. She didn’t want to be linked to the Joker. Not publicly, anyway. But the frustration lingered. 

"I just...hate waiting. Not knowing when I'll see you again."

Joker tilted her chin up gently. "I know, Bunny. But this is how it’s gotta be. You trust me, don’t cha?" His voice was a mix of teasing and sincerity, but she could hear the edge of caution beneath it.

Y/n nodded, letting out a quiet sigh. She did trust him, but it didn’t make the situation any less frustrating. "I trust you...It's just hard."

Joker’s grin returned, a flash of teeth as he pulled her closer. "I’ll pop in when you least expect it, like always. Keep things interesting."

Y/n managed a small smile at that, though part of her still wished she could have some control over when they’d see each other. But deep down, she knew he was right. If anyone found out about her connection to him, her life would spiral into danger even more than it already had.

For now, she had to accept that this was how it would always be unpredictable, chaotic, and entirely on his terms. But somehow, being wrapped up in his arms made it feel a little more bearable.

-

A couple of hours passed, with Joker and Y/n sprawled out on her bed in a comfortable silence. Joker had been unusually calm, his arms wrapped loosely around her, while she rested her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. She assumed he was thinking, but she liked the think he was relaxing, just a time of peace between them. But this peace couldn’t last forever.

Eventually, Joker stirred, shifting beneath her. “Alright, Bunny,” he muttered, slipping out from her hold. “Time for me to bounce.” 

Y/n propped herself up on her elbows, watching him. She didn’t want him to leave, but she knew better than to say it out loud. “Already?” she asked quietly, though the answer was obvious.

“Got things to do, cars to find,” he replied, tugging on his gloves and smoothing his hair back. “You know how it is.”

She nodded, biting her lip to keep from asking him to stay longer. Joker turned to her with a smirk, leaning down to place a soft kiss on her forehead. “I’ll be back soon, Bunny. Don’t worry your pretty little head.”

With that, he made his way to her door, throwing it open like he always did. Y/n watched him as he walked, feeling the familiar pit in her stomach as he disappeared into the night, leaving her alone once again.

-

It had been three days since Y/n had last seen Joker, and the absence weighed heavily on her. The first day, she had convinced herself he was just busy, caught up in whatever mischief Gotham demanded of him. But by the second day, she started to feel the creeping sadness and unease. By the third, she couldn't shake the emptiness that lingered in the pit of her stomach. 

Every knock or creak had her hoping it was him, but no such luck. She spent the days moping in her dorm room, feeling the weight of his absence more with each hour that passed.

By the time evening rolled around, her hunger forced her to make a rare trip down to the dining hall. As she lined up for dinner, grabbing a plate and serving herself some food, she felt strangely disconnected. The clatter of cutlery, the murmur of students talking around her, it all seemed distant, as though she was walking through a fog.

That’s when she heard it.

From the TV mounted in the corner of the dining hall, the news anchor’s voice echoed through the room. “In other breaking news, Gotham has been in fear the past few days as a series of crimes linked to the Joker continue to escalate. Authorities are urging citizens to remain vigilant—"

Y/n’s grip on her plate tightened as she froze mid-motion, her heart skipping a beat. Joker. They were talking about him. She glanced over her shoulder at the TV, feeling her chest tighten as the images of destruction flashed across the screen. As Y/n sat in the dining hall, her focus was still on the TV.

"—Police have been interviewing several local gang members who have turned up beaten and bruised over the past few days. The victims, all of whom belong to various underground organisations, have been questioned about an odd line of inquiry from what appears to be the Joker, or those associated with him. Reports indicate that he’s been asking them about a purple Ford Cortina."

Y/n’s fork paused halfway to her mouth, her stomach flipping as she heard the words. A purple Ford Cortina. Her car. She knew he would search for it, but she didn’t really think about what that would entail. 

"Authorities and gang members speculate that the vehicle in question may be linked to illicit activities, possibly connected to the drug trade. Given the Joker's relentless pursuit of this particular car, investigators believe there may be a significant reason behind his interest."

Y/n's breath caught in her throat. So Joker had been trying to track down her car. The realization sent a chill down her spine. He was tearing through Gotham’s underworld, using any means necessary to find it. And if the news was anything to go by, he was leaving a trail of battered bodies in his wake. She could only imagine what Joker might do when he found the guy who actually took it.

Y/n couldn’t help but find it a bit amusing how everyone speculated that Joker’s relentless hunt for the car had to do with drugs, money, or something valuable hidden inside. The authorities and gang members alike were convinced there was a darker motive behind his obsession. But the truth? The Joker was tearing through Gotham's underworld simply because Y/n was upset about losing her car. 

All this fear and bloodshed, and it wasn’t over money or a drug deal gone wrong, it was just because Joker wanted to track down the guy who took her car and make him pay.

-

Y/n was deep in sleep when she felt a shift in the room, a faint sound of the window creaking open, followed by the softest thud against the floor. She stirred, half-aware, when a familiar presence loomed over her bed. Suddenly, she felt fingers gently brushing her cheek, a cold touch that sent a shiver down her spine.

"Bunny," Joker's voice whispered into the darkness.

Her eyes fluttered open, heart racing as she saw his pale face inches from hers, illuminated by the faint light from the street. "J?" she mumbled groggily, rubbing her eyes. 

"Wake up, sweetheart. I’m taking you somewhere." His voice was soft, but there was an edge to it, as always. He crouched next to her, his hand now resting on her shoulder. 

Groggy and disoriented, Y/n sat up in bed, her eyes barely open as she pouted. “J, it’s too late to go out,” she groaned, her voice heavy with sleep.

Joker, unfazed, strode over to the pile of clothes strewn across the floor. He sifted through them with purposeful movements until he pulled out a pair of pants, which he tossed onto the bed. “Get dressed before I have to do it for you,” he said, his tone commanding.

With a reluctant sigh, Y/n tossed off her covers and struggled out of her pajama shorts, wriggling into the track pants Joker had given her. She shuffled over to him, her movements sluggish. Joker crouched down beside her, helping her into socks and shoes with a quick, messy touch.

“I’m taking you to my hideout,” Joker announced, his voice carrying a note of excitement as he tightened her shoelaces.

Y/n’s eyes flew open in surprise. “Huh?!” she exclaimed, her confusion evident.

Ignoring her reaction, Joker finished with her shoes and guided her toward the window. “Let’s go!” he urged, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

“I’m not climbing out of the fucking window!” Y/n protested, her voice loud with alarm.

With a chuckle, Joker removed her large purple coat from the chair and wrapped it around her shoulders. “Trust me, Bunny,” he said softly but firmly, “it’ll be worth it. Now, come on.”

Joker's grin widened as he gently but firmly urged Y/n to climb onto his back. “Come on, Bunny, up up!” he said, settling her comfortably. He held her legs around his waist securely, making sure she was steady.

Y/n, her heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and excitement, wrapped her arms around Joker’s neck and closed her eyes tightly. She tried to ignore the dizzying sensation of the height and the rush of cold air as she felt him step out the window.

Joker's movements were smooth and deliberate as he expertly climbed out of the window, his strong grip keeping them both secure. He maneuvered carefully down the side of the building, his confidence evident in every step. The city below looked distant and blurry to Y/n as she held on, her breaths coming in shallow, controlled gasps.

With each passing moment, the steady rhythm of Joker’s descent, combined with his soothing presence, helped to calm Y/n’s nerves. She felt a strange sense of safety despite the precarious situation. 

When they finally reached the ground, Joker gently lowered Y/n to her feet, turning to face her with a triumphant smile. “There we go. Safe and sound,” he said.

Y/n took a deep breath, slowly opening her eyes to the dimly lit streets of Gotham. The adrenaline was still coursing through her veins, but she couldn’t help but smile at the exhilarating escapade.

Joker’s hand found Y/n’s with a firm yet reassuring grip, his gloved fingers wrapping around hers with a sense of purpose. “Come on, Bunny,” he said, leading her through the dimly lit alleyways of Gotham. The city’s nighttime sounds buzzed around them, but Joker's presence made the chaos feel distant and controlled.

They approached a familiar van parked inconspicuously against the shadowy backdrop of Gotham. The van’s dark windows and battered exterior made it blend seamlessly into the night, a stark contrast to the vibrant city lights.

Joker guided Y/n to the sliding door on the side of the van, giving her a gentle nudge to help her step up. “In you go,” he said with a playful wink. Y/n climbed in, her heart still racing from the excitement and the earlier climb.

Inside, the back of the van was surprisingly well-organised. A few cushions and blankets were strewn about, creating a makeshift yet cosy space. Y/n settled onto the soft surface, glancing around with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

“You’ve made it nice in here,” Y/n remarked.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way for my Doll,” Joker replied.

Joker followed her in, sliding the door shut behind him with a quiet click. He turned to face her, his expression a blend of satisfaction and mischief. “Comfortable?” he asked, his tone light and teasing as he took a seat next to her.

Y/n nodded, still processing the unexpected turn of events. “Yeah,” she said, her voice tinged with both awe and amusement.

Joker grinned, leaning back against the wall of the van. “Good.”

“J?” Y/n asked softly.

Joker hummed in response, his gaze fixed on her.

“Why are you taking me to your hideout?” she asked, curiosity laced in her voice.

“Need a little help with some...inquiries,” Joker said vaguely

Y/n sighed, knowing that was all the answer she'd get from him. There was no point in pressing for more. Still, a part of her wasn’t concerned, she trusted him in her own way. She knew Joker would never deliberately put her in danger. At least, not anything she couldn’t handle.

The van ride was shorter than Y/n expected, probably because Joker’s henchman refused to slow the fuck down. The vehicle sped through Gotham's dark streets, swerving around corners with reckless abandon, zooming through redlights. Y/n gripped the seat, her knuckles turning white, while Joker sat unbothered, clearly used to shit driving.

Before she knew it, the van screeched to a halt. The back doors creaked open, and Y/n stepped out, barely keeping balance. 

“Why couldn’t Rocco drive instead,” Y/n muttered to herself.

Her eyes tried to adjust to the dimly lit scene. Large shipping containers loomed in front of them, stacked high and scattered across the docks. Joker’s hideout was tucked between them, barely noticeable among the industrial sprawl.

“Home sweet home,” Joker grinned, helping her stand still.

Joker strode confidently ahead of the group, his long coat billowing behind him as he led Y/n through the maze of shipping containers. She trailed behind, her eyes scanning the dimly lit scene, while his henchmen fell into place around her like silent shadows. There was a tension in the air, but none of it was directed at her.

The people inside Joker's hideout were all armed, weapons strapped to their sides or held casually in their hands. Some wore clown masks, others bare, but their attire was surprisingly basic, unlike their leader. Yet, as Y/n passed through the hall, not a single pair of eyes met hers. No one dared to glance her way, as if her presence was something they had been strictly instructed to ignore.

Joker must’ve said something to them beforehand. The thought made her feel both relieved and a little unnerved. Even in his world of anarchy, he had ensured that she was untouchable here. She quickened her pace to catch up to him as they neared a large, rusted metal door.

Joker pushed open the heavy, rusted metal door with a dramatic flourish, stepping inside and gesturing grandly with both arms. "Ta-da!" he announced with an exaggerated smile, his voice echoing off the steel walls.

Y/n stepped in behind him, her eyes widening at the sight before her. The room was dimly lit, the smell of sweat and blood hanging thick in the air. In the center of the room were three men, each strapped to a chair, their faces swollen and bruised beyond recognition. Blood dripped from their mouths, their clothes torn and stained. They looked barely conscious, heads slumped forward, held up only by the restraints binding them.

"Look at ‘em, Bunny! Didn’t they clean up nice?" Joker said with a maniacal grin, walking up to the men and giving one of them a light tap on the cheek, though the man barely reacted. He turned back to Y/n, watching her carefully, as if expecting a reaction, something between shock and awe.

Y/n, though startled, knew this wasn’t out of the ordinary for Joker. She exhaled quietly, her eyes flicking from Joker to the beaten men and back again.

"These guys," Joker continued, pacing in front of them like he was showing off trophies, "have been asking all the wrong questions... But lucky for them, we’ve got the right answers. Ain't that right, fellas?" His laugh echoed in the room, chillingly casual in contrast to the gruesome display in front of them.

Y/n stood frozen at the entrance of the room, her heart pounding in her chest as she took in the scene before her. Her hands trembled uncontrollably, fingers digging into the fabric of Joker’s coat as her eyes darted between the bloodied men. Her knees felt weak, and a wave of fear and nausea surged through her. She had never been this close to Joker's brutality before, seeing it from afar was one thing, but being here, in the midst of it, was another entirely.

She felt herself shaking, her breath catching in her throat as her mind raced. What was she supposed to do? 

Joker, noticing her reaction, moved over to her, his sharp grin softening into something more comforting. He placed a hand on her shoulder, fingers curling gently as he pulled her closer. 

“Hey, hey... it’s alright, Bunny,” he murmured, his voice unexpectedly soothing despite the horror around them. He tilted her chin up, making her look at him rather than the beaten men. “You’re safe. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

Y/n swallowed hard, trying to calm the tremors in her body, but her fear was overwhelming. She couldn’t stop shaking. Joker’s grip tightened, firm but not harsh. His eyes, though gleaming with mischief, held a strange sort of reassurance. He wasn’t going to let anyone hurt her. Not while he was there.

“You recognize any of ‘em?” Joker asked, his voice smooth, but laced with a hint of danger. He gestured lazily to the men in the chairs. “One of these guys…is the prick who took your car, Doll. Which one? Huh? Take your time.”

Y/n’s eyes flicked nervously toward the men, her pulse quickening as she tried to focus, to remember the face of the man who had shoved a gun into her back. Her stomach churned as she scanned each bloodied face, her fear growing by the second. She clenched her hands into fists, trying to still the shaking.

"I-I’m not sure," she whispered, her voice barely audible, but Joker’s fingers on her chin turned her face to meet his gaze again.

"You’ll figure it out, Bunny," Joker said, his grin widening as he stepped back. "I believe in you."

Y/n felt her heart racing as she desperately tried to recall the face of the man who had stolen her car. She scanned the bloodied faces of the three men strapped to the chairs, her mind racing yet blank. The fear gripped her, tightening around her chest like a vice. She hadn’t turned to face her attacker that day, all she had was a fleeting impression. Now, the bruises and welts made it impossible to recognize anyone.

Biting her lip, she fidgeted with her nails, a nervous habit that had developed over the years. Each of her movements was a mixture of anxiety and frustration. She glanced back at Joker, who was now leaning against the wall with an expectant look. Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion as she shook her head, silently pleading for an escape.

“You don’t know, Bunny?” he asked, his voice teasing yet tinged with a hint of disappointment. She nodded again, a sinking feeling settling in her stomach.

Joker straightened up. He turned back to the men, clapping his gloved hands together. The sound echoed through the dimly lit room, causing Y/n to jump, startled by the sudden noise. 

“Looks like you’re all gonna face the punishment!” he declared, his tone gleefully ominous.

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat as she watched him approach the trembling figures. Her heart thudded louder in her ears, each beat amplifying the rising tension. “Might wanna turn around, Bunny…” he advised in a low, gravelly voice that sent shivers down her spine.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Y/n spun on her heels, not wanting to witness whatever Joker had planned. But the chilling sounds that erupted behind her were unmistakable. The first scream pierced through the air, raw and filled with terror, and she instinctively shoved her fingers into her ears, desperate to block out the horror unfolding just a few feet away.

The echos of pain reverberated through her body, and she fought against the rising panic within her. Each scream seemed to etch itself into her mind, a haunting reminder of the world Joker inhabited, a world she was still trying to comprehend.

Y/n stood frozen in place, her body trembling uncontrollably as the terrifying screams filled the air. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, blurring her vision and stinging her cheeks. The sounds behind her were a cruel reminder of the darkness that lurked in Joker’s world, a reality she had only glimpsed at before now.

She bit her lip, trying to hold back the sobs that threatened to escape. The warmth of fear flooded through her, wrapping around her like a suffocating blanket. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to disappear from the situation, to escape the horrifying reality unfolding behind her. 

“J…please,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound. But the words felt hollo she knew he was lost in his own excitement, reveling in the chaos that he thrived on. 

Y/n’s heart raced, each beat echoing the dread that filled her. She wanted to turn around, to stop him, but she felt paralyzed by fear. The tears began to fall, trailing down her cheeks as she desperately tried to quell the rising tide of panic.

“Please, just stop,” she murmured to herself, hoping that the power of her words would somehow reach Joker, that he would sense her distress and reconsider. But deep down, she feared that he was too far gone, too enveloped in his sadistic joy to listen to her cries for mercy. 

The room seemed to close in on her, the weight of the situation pressing down harder with every agonizing second. She felt so small, so helpless, trapped in a world she didn’t belong to, as tears continued to fall.

As the unsettling sounds of distress echoed through the room, the heavy metal door creaked open, interrupting the violent scene. A figure stepped inside, a tall, muscular man dressed in a dark jacket and jeans, his face marked with the grime of the streets. He hesitated for a moment, eyes darting to the trembling form of Y/n before focusing on Joker, who was still reveling in the fear he had instigated.

“Boss!” the man called out, his voice cutting through the noise. “We got a hit on the car!”

Joker paused mid-motion, turning his head slightly, though the glint in his eyes hadn’t faded. The man who had entered looked nervously at Y/n, noting her shaking form before turning back to Joker, eyes darting between the gruesome scene and his unsettling leader.

Joker’s grip on the nearest man loosened, and he slowly straightened up, a wicked grin spreading across his painted face. He wiped the blood from his gloves, flicking it off to the side as if it was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

“Well, well, Bunny,” Joker drawled, turning his attention away from the bloodied men and back to Y/n, who was still shaking, her eyes filled with tears. He strode over to her, ignoring the mess he’d left behind. “Looks like we found your ride.”

Y/n’s breath hitched as he gently cupped her chin, lifting her tear-streaked face to meet his. “No more tears now, hmm? You’ll get what’s yours.” He brushed his thumb over her cheek before glancing at the man who had brought the news. “Show me.”

Joker reached for her side and gently placed a hand on the small of her back, guiding her toward the exit. Y/n's legs felt shaky beneath her, still trembling from the horrors she'd just witnessed, but she followed his lead, her mind clouded with fear and confusion.

"Come on, Bunny. We’re done here," he said softly, though his tone carried an edge that left no room for hesitation.

Y/n felt his hand tighten slightly as they approached the door, his presence offering a strange sense of security in the midst of her unease. The henchmen in the room stepped aside without a word, avoiding eye contact as they always did, heads bowed in silent deference. 

As they walked out, Joker kept his arm steady around her, pulling her closer as they passed through the rusted doors and into the dimly lit hallway. Y/n’s breath felt heavy in her chest, but with Joker leading her, she didn’t dare look back at the screams and chaos they left behind.

Once outside the room, the night air hit her face like a cold slap, grounding her slightly as the noise from the other side of the door faded away. Joker leaned down, whispering into her ear with a teasing smirk, "Told you I’d take care of it, Bunny."

Y/n nodded, still too shaken to speak. Joker helped Y/n into the back of the van with a firm but reassuring grip, and then climbed in after her. Rocco was already behind the wheel, adjusting his mirrors and starting the engine with a smooth, deliberate motion. Y/n could already tell that this ride would be different from the wild, reckless journey that brought them to the docks. Rocco wasn’t the crazy, pedal-to-the-floor type, and the knowledge that he’d drive with some level of sanity brought Y/n an odd sense of comfort after the mess she’d just been through.

Joker settled beside her, stretching out casually like they were heading to a late-night diner rather than retrieving a stolen car. His calmness, while unsettling, made her feel a little more anchored in the moment. The van pulled away from the warehouse slowly, the rhythmic hum of the engine cutting through the tension that lingered in the air.

Y/n glanced over at Joker, who was staring out the window with a gleam of anticipation in his eyes. As they wound through the quiet streets of Gotham, her nerves gradually settled, though a sense of dread still lurked beneath the surface. She knew they were heading toward the location of her stolen car, but what would happen when they got there? She wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to find out.

Y/n leaned back against her seat, trying to shake the images of the beaten men from her mind. Joker, however, looked relaxed, his hands drumming lightly against his knee, as if this was just another night for him.

Rocco pulled the van into a slow crawl as they approached the location. Y/n's eyes darted out the window, scanning the area nervously. It was an abandoned lot, scattered with debris and lined with broken streetlights that flickered weakly in the darkness. In the middle of the lot sat her car, the familiar purple Ford Cortina gleaming under a dim light. Too pristine, too untouched, too perfect.

The van came to a gentle stop, and Rocco shifted into park. Y/n’s heart raced. Something wasn’t right. Everything about the scene felt too neat. The car was just sitting there, almost like it had been gift-wrapped and left for them.

Joker sat up, his usual smirk fading as he surveyed the area, eyes narrowing. Y/n swallowed hard. Even she could feel it. It was a setup. A trap, perhaps. The whole thing felt staged, like someone was waiting for them to make the first move. The silence around them was heavy, too heavy for Gotham's rough streets. 

Joker’s fingers drummed against the side of his leg, faster this time, his mind clearly working through possibilities. Without turning his head, he spoke, his voice low. 

“Stay here, Bunny.”

Y/n’s gut twisted as she glanced nervously at him, unsure of what would happen next. Something in her told her this wasn’t just about retrieving a stolen car anymore. 

Joker slipped out of the van with a calmness that contradicted the tension crackling in the air. Rocco stayed in the driver's seat, his eyes shifting to the rearview mirror, making sure Y/n was still there. She felt a strange sense of comfort in his presence.

From her spot in the van, Y/n could see Joker approach the car with slow, deliberate steps. His silhouette was sharp against the dim light that cast long shadows over the lot. He circled the Cortina, eyes scanning every inch of it like he was expecting something to jump out at him. His movements were careful, precise, like he was reading the scene for any sign of a trap.

Y/n held her breath, her fingers gripping the edge of the seat tightly. She had a bad feeling about this, everything was too still. Her heart pounded in her chest as Joker stopped in front of the car. He turned his head slightly, just enough to catch Rocco’s eye, a silent signal passing between them.

Rocco tensed, gripping the steering wheel. Y/n could feel the shift in the air, the anticipation building as if the whole scene was waiting for someone to spring the trap.

Suddenly, Joker’s hand shot out to open the door of the Cortina, and as if on cue, the sound of tires screeching against asphalt filled the night air. Several black cars surged into the lot from all sides, headlights blinding as they formed a rough circle around the Cortina, and Joker.

Y/n gasped, her fear confirmed. It was a trap.

“Boss!” Rocco yelled, his hand already reaching for a gun stashed under the dashboard. Joker didn’t flinch. Instead, he straightened up, his head tilting with that familiar, unsettling smile curling his lips. The chaos was brewing, but Joker looked like he was about to enjoy the show.

The screeching tires belonged not to gang members or rival thugs, but to police cars. Dozens of them, their lights flashing violently against the dark backdrop. Y/n's breath hitched in her throat as she recognized the unmistakable sirens piercing the tense silence. These weren’t just any vehicles. It was Gotham's Police Force, and they had Joker surrounded.

Joker’s eyes gleamed with twisted delight as the police vehicles formed a barricade around him. He didn’t flinch, didn’t retreat. Instead, he straightened up and flicked a glance toward the flashing lights, his smile widening like this was all part of the plan.

Rocco cursed under his breath, his hands gripping the wheel tighter. "Boss, it's the Gotham MCU," he growled, already reaching for the gun stashed under his seat.

Y/n’s heart was pounding so loudly she thought it might burst out of her chest. She stared at the police cars, her hands trembling as fear overtook her. This was bad, really bad. 

From the distance, officers began spilling out of the vehicles, guns drawn and aimed directly at Joker. They moved like a well-oiled machine, creating a blockade that left no gaps. The realization hit Y/n hard. They had set up a trap, and Joker had walked right into it.

"Step away from the vehicle with your hands up!" one officer shouted through a megaphone, his voice distorted but authoritative.

But Joker? He only laughed. That spine-chilling laugh echoed through the lot, a sound so unsettling that even some of the cops shifted uneasily. Joker turned his head slightly, as if to make sure Y/n was still watching. Then, without a hint of fear, he raised his arms slowly in the air, playing along.

Rocco looked back at Y/n, his face a mixture of worry and anticipation. "Stay low, and don’t move. Got it?" he barked, his voice low and urgent.

Y/n nodded, but inside she was spiraling. Her stomach churned, her pulse raced. How were they going to get out of this?

Joker must have made a subtle hand gesture, quick, nearly imperceptible. But Rocco saw it. He cursed under his breath and reluctantly tucked his gun back under the seat. Y/n glanced between them, confusion swirling in her chest. 

“What…what’s going on?” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Rocco’s jaw clenched as he turned the key in the ignition. Without another word, the van roared to life. Y/n's confusion deepened, but before she could even process it, Rocco slammed his foot on the gas, and the van jerked forward. 

“Wait!” Y/n gasped, her hands bracing against the seat as the van sped away from the scene.

Her head whipped back, heart hammering in her chest as the distance between them and Joker grew. She could see the police closing in on him, all their focus trained on capturing Gotham’s most notorious criminal. None of them even glanced at the van speeding away. 

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat, eyes widening as she watched Joker stand there, calm and collected. The flashing lights, the shouting officers, none of it seemed to faze him. In fact, he was smiling.

Through the haze of panic, Y/n’s vision locked on him as the police neared. And there he was, standing completely still, his gaze never leaving hers. That familiar, wicked grin spread across his face as if he’d orchestrated the whole thing. Like this was just another one of his games.

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes as the reality of the moment crashed over her. He was letting her go. Letting her escape. But at what cost? 

Her fingers gripped the seat, knuckles turning white as they sped away, the van tearing through the streets of Gotham, leaving Joker to the police.

-

A/N: OoOoOoOooo, J's been caught~ and poor Y/n still don't got her car back :C Thank you for reading this part, and thank you for being patient, I really appreciate everyone 💚 Not too sure when I'll have time to write the next chapter, but we'll see thank you again 🫶

[solxamber]

All the NRC students (+maybe neige and Chen'ya) with a incubus? Can be either platonic or romantic but romantic would be preferred

(Male reader please!)

All NRC (-Ortho), Rollo, Neige, Che'nya with M! Incubus! Reader

thanks for the request <3 also had a lot of fun writing this so it ended up getting a little out of hand

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle prided himself on maintaining control—control of his dorm, his emotions, and, most importantly, his heart. So when you, with your playful, lingering glances and mischievous smirks, started pulling him into your orbit, it rattled him.

It didn’t help that you knew exactly what you were doing.

“I’ve told you before about your uniform,” Riddle said sternly, eyes flicking over the slightly disheveled appearance you sported. The red cravat was loose, shirt collar slightly askew, and there was something about the casual disregard for the rules that sent his pulse racing.

You tilted your head, stepping just close enough to make his heartbeat uncomfortably loud in his ears. “I’d fix it, but I think you like it this way.”

Riddle’s face burned, and he instinctively took a step back, his composure slipping. “T-That’s absurd! The rules exist for a reason—”

You smiled, a slow, deliberate thing that made his breath hitch. “Maybe you just like breaking the rules when no one’s watching.”

Riddle’s heart thudded against his ribcage, his voice lowering to a flustered murmur. “I... I don’t know what you’re implying, but... please—fix it.”

But you didn’t move, and for the first time, Riddle wasn’t sure if he wanted you to.

Trey Clover

Trey had always been steady, reliable. The calm amidst the storm of his fellow Heartslabyul students. But you? You were the unpredictable spark in his otherwise predictable life.

He watched as you leaned casually against the kitchen counter, watching him roll out the dough with that knowing smile on your face. The way you lingered so close, the heat of your body just barely brushing against his, had him more distracted than he’d ever admit.

“You know,” you said, voice low and smooth as honey, “you’re really good at this whole ‘baking’ thing. I can’t help but wonder what else you’re good at.”

Trey’s hand stilled, his heart suddenly pounding a little harder. He glanced at you, trying to keep his voice steady. “It’s... just practice.”

You laughed, the sound soft and intimate, as if the two of you shared a secret. “Hmm. Maybe you could teach me sometime. I’m a quick learner...”

Trey swallowed, eyes flicking to yours, his usual calm slipping just a bit. “I-I could. But, uh, maybe we should focus on the task at hand first.”

But the way you stepped closer, your shoulder brushing against his, told him that focusing was going to be a lot harder than he thought.

Cater Diamond

Cater loved attention. He lived for it. But the way you looked at him? That was something different. Something that made his heart skip a beat, even though he’d never admit it.

“You’ve got all those fans, Cater,” you said, leaning close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating from you, “but when’s the last time you had someone all to yourself?”

Cater’s grin faltered, just for a second. “What’s this? You jealous? Don’t worry, I’ve always got time for you.”

But his casual charm wasn’t quite enough to hide the way his pulse quickened as you leaned even closer, your breath brushing against his ear.

“Jealous?” you echoed, your voice low, teasing. “Nah. Just curious. Wondering if you can handle it when all the attention’s on you for real.”

Cater swallowed, his playful demeanor slipping as his mind raced. You always did know how to get under his skin. “Hah... you’re too much, you know that?”

You grinned, and Cater couldn’t help but wonder if, for once, he’d met someone who could play his game better than him.

Ace Trappola

Ace liked to think of himself as smooth. Unshakable. Too clever to fall for anything or anyone. But every time you got a little too close, flashed that wicked grin, or dropped a suggestive comment, he found himself floundering in a way that left him both frustrated and intrigued.

“So, Ace,” you drawled, standing far too close for him to feel comfortable, “how long are you gonna pretend I’m not getting to you?”

Ace shot you his best smirk, crossing his arms as if the proximity wasn’t bothering him at all. “Pfft, please. You’re not even on my radar.”

But the slight tremor in his voice betrayed him, and you stepped even closer, your hand lightly brushing against his arm.

“Really?” you murmured, your eyes glinting with amusement. “You’re telling me that if I kissed you right now, it wouldn’t faze you at all?”

Ace froze, his heart doing an acrobatic flip in his chest. “I-I mean... not at all,” he stammered, but the blush creeping up his neck told a different story.

You grinned, pulling away just before he could gather his thoughts. “We’ll see about that.”

Ace exhaled shakily, trying to regain his composure, but all he could think about was the way his heart hadn’t quite slowed down.

Deuce Spade

Deuce wasn’t used to being flustered. He was the serious one. The dependable one. But you? You had a way of completely throwing him off his game with nothing more than a smile.

“Deuce, you’re looking a little tense,” you teased, your voice soft and almost soothing as you stood in front of him. “Something on your mind?”

Deuce swallowed hard, trying to focus on anything other than the way your fingers lightly brushed against his arm. “N-No! I’m just... thinking.”

“About me?” you asked, your lips quirking up in a teasing grin.

Deuce’s face turned bright red. “N-No! I mean, not that I don’t—no, wait, I didn’t mean—uh—”

You chuckled softly, leaning in just a bit closer, your lips barely inches from his ear. “Relax. I’m just teasing you. Unless...”

Deuce’s breath hitched, his heart racing as he tried to find his voice. “U-Unless?”

You smiled, pulling away slightly, but the warmth of your touch still lingered. “Unless you want me to be serious.”

Deuce’s brain short-circuited for a moment, and all he could do was nod, his face burning as his heart hammered in his chest.

Leona Kingscholar

Leona was used to being in control. To having people fall in line around him. But you? You were the one person who never seemed to be affected by his lazy dominance. If anything, you enjoyed pushing his buttons.

You stretched out beside him in the sunlight, lazily twirling a blade of grass between your fingers. “So, what’s the plan, Leona? Gonna keep pretending you’re not interested forever?”

Leona opened one eye to glare at you, his voice a low growl. “I told you, I’m trying to sleep.”

You smirked, propping yourself up on your elbow to lean closer to him. “Uh-huh. Sure. But you’re not very convincing when your heart’s racing like that.”

Leona’s eyes narrowed, but he couldn’t stop the smirk that tugged at his lips. “You think you’re cute, huh?”

“I know I am,” you replied smoothly, your fingers brushing against his arm just enough to make him tense.

Leona scoffed, turning his head away, but the flush on his cheeks betrayed him. “You’re asking for trouble, herbivore.”

But the way he didn’t move away told you he didn’t mind one bit.

Ruggie Bucchi

Ruggie wasn’t used to being the one on the receiving end of tricks. He was the one who pulled the pranks, got the upper hand. But you? You had him constantly on edge, never knowing what you’d say or do next.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” Ruggie said, his voice low and teasing as you sidled up next to him.

You raised an eyebrow, your lips curling into a smirk. “Am I? Or maybe you’re just not used to someone playing it better than you.”

Ruggie laughed, though there was a hint of nervousness behind it. “Better than me? C’mon, I’ve got this in the bag.”

You leaned in close, your breath warm against his ear. “I don’t think you do.”

Ruggie’s heart skipped a beat, his mind scrambling for a witty comeback, but all he could focus on was the way your lips brushed against his ear ever so slightly. “Y-You’re not playing fair.”

You chuckled, pulling away just enough to meet his eyes. “Who said anything about playing fair?”

Ruggie grinned, his confidence slipping just a little. “You’re trouble. But... I think I like it.”

Jack Howl

Jack prided himself on his discipline, his focus, his unwavering sense of duty. Yet, you had a way of completely unraveling all of that in a matter of seconds.

He was lifting weights in the gym, mind focused, muscles straining, when you appeared beside him. “Need a spotter?” you asked casually, leaning against the bench with a smile that was just a little too playful.

Jack grunted, trying to ignore the way your presence made his heart race. “I can handle it.”

You chuckled, leaning in just a little closer. “I’m sure you can, big guy. But why pass up the chance to have me watching your back?”

Jack nearly fumbled the weight, his ears flicking in annoyance, though he couldn’t quite hide the blush creeping up his neck. “I-I’m fine.”

But you didn’t move. Instead, you rested your chin on your hand, watching him intently. “You know, I think you try too hard sometimes. Maybe you should let someone else take care of you for a change.”

Jack’s grip tightened on the barbell, his pulse quickening. He wasn’t sure if it was the weight or the way you were looking at him that was making his chest feel tight. “I don’t need—”

You reached out, brushing a hand against his arm, sending an electric jolt through him. “Don’t need help? Or don’t need me watching you like this?”

Jack huffed, setting the weight down with more force than necessary. “You’re impossible.”

But the way his tail twitched betrayed the fact that he didn’t really mind.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul was a planner. Every move, every interaction was calculated, precise. And yet, somehow, you always seemed to throw his carefully crafted plans into chaos.

He watched as you entered the VIP room of the Mostro Lounge, that ever-present smirk on your lips. “You’re awfully quiet today, Azul,” you teased, crossing the room with a confidence that always made his palms sweat.

Azul adjusted his glasses, trying to maintain his usual calm demeanor. “I’m simply... observing.”

“Observing, huh?” you echoed, leaning on the edge of his desk, far too close for comfort. “And what exactly are you observing?”

Azul cleared his throat, eyes flicking nervously to yours. “Y-You, of course. You’re quite... unpredictable.”

You grinned, your fingers brushing against the edge of the desk, inching closer to his hand. “Unpredictable? Or maybe you’re just bad at reading me.”

Azul’s heart raced, though he tried to keep his expression neutral. “I assure you, I’m quite skilled at reading people.”

You leaned in closer, your voice dropping to a whisper. “Then what am I thinking right now?”

Azul froze, his mind scrambling for a coherent thought, but all he could focus on was the heat radiating from your body and the way your eyes seemed to see right through him. “I-I...”

You chuckled, pulling away just before he could respond, leaving him flustered and very much off balance. “Guess you’re not as good as you thought.”

Azul adjusted his glasses again, trying to regain his composure. “You... are infuriating.”

But the flush on his cheeks said he didn’t mind being bested by you.

Jade Leech

Jade was used to being in control, much like his boss. He enjoyed observing people, watching how they reacted, and staying two steps ahead. But with you? You were always just a little bit ahead of him, and that intrigued him far more than he’d like to admit.

“So,” Jade drawled, his usual polite smile firmly in place as you stood across from him in the lounge, “what brings you here today? Surely not just to cause more chaos?”

You smirked, tilting your head in that way that always made his heart beat just a little faster. “Maybe I just like the view.”

Jade raised an eyebrow, though his pulse quickened. “Is that so? I wasn’t aware the decor was so interesting.”

“Oh, the decor’s nice,” you said, stepping closer, your fingers lightly brushing against the smooth wood of the table. “But I wasn’t talking about that.”

Jade’s smile widened, though he couldn’t quite suppress the flicker of surprise in his chest. “You’re quite bold, aren’t you?”

“Bold?” you echoed, your hand resting on the table just beside his. “Maybe. Or maybe I just know what I want.”

Jade’s eyes gleamed with intrigue, his voice lowering to a murmur. “And what is it that you want?”

You leaned in, just enough to make his heart skip a beat. “I think you already know.”

For the first time, Jade found himself unsure of what move to make next—a sensation both unsettling and thrilling. “You... are quite the enigma.”

You grinned, pulling away with a wink. “And you love it.”

Jade’s smile didn’t falter, but the way his heart raced told him that, perhaps, you were right.

Floyd Leech

Floyd was wild, unpredictable, and always on the hunt for something exciting. You? You were the perfect mix of chaos and control, and that made you his favorite person to mess with.

“Shrimpy~!” Floyd’s voice echoed down the hallway as he bounded toward you with his usual enthusiasm. “Whatcha doin’? Boring stuff again?”

You glanced up, smirking as he slid to a stop in front of you. “Just waiting for you to catch up, Floyd. Took you long enough.”

Floyd grinned, his mismatched eyes gleaming with excitement. “Oho, you’re in a mood today, huh?”

You shrugged, leaning back against the wall, your posture casual, but your eyes gleaming with mischief. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just wondering if you can keep up.”

Floyd’s grin widened, his heart racing at the challenge. “Oh, I can keep up, don’t worry.”

You stepped closer, close enough that Floyd’s playful grin faltered for just a second. “Can you, though?”

Floyd’s eyes narrowed, his excitement turning to something sharper, more focused. “Heh, you’re askin’ for it, Shrimpy.”

But instead of backing down, you just grinned, your hand lightly brushing against his arm. “Maybe I am.”

For the first time in a while, Floyd found himself caught off guard, his usual chaotic energy tempered by the unexpected heat in your gaze. “You’re somethin’ else, Shrimpy.”

You winked, pulling away before he could react, leaving him both intrigued and frustrated in the best possible way. “I know.”

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim was all sunshine and joy, always smiling, always positive. But when you were around? He found himself feeling something a little different—a flutter in his chest that he didn’t quite understand.

“You’re always so happy, Kalim,” you teased, your voice soft but playful as you sat beside him on the steps of Scarabia. “What’s your secret?”

Kalim beamed at you, his usual enthusiasm shining through. “It’s easy! I just focus on the good things. Like you being here with me!”

You laughed, nudging him with your shoulder. “That’s sweet. But what if I wasn’t here?”

Kalim blinked, his smile faltering for just a second. “Then... I’d be sad, I guess.”

You tilted your head, your smile turning a little more mischievous. “Really? Sad? Or maybe... you’d miss me?”

Kalim’s face flushed, his usual cheerfulness giving way to a sudden nervousness. “O-Of course I’d miss you! You’re my friend!”

You leaned in, your voice lowering just enough to make his heart race. “Just a friend?”

Kalim’s eyes widened, his heart skipping a beat. “W-Well, I mean... I-I—”

You chuckled, pulling away before he could stumble over his words any more. “Relax, Kalim. I’m just teasing you.”

But the blush on his cheeks remained, and Kalim couldn’t quite shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, he wanted to be more than just friends.

Jamil Viper

Jamil had spent most of his life in control, always planning, always calculating. But with you? You threw all of that right out the window. No matter how hard he tried to remain calm, you always seemed to know just how to get under his skin.

He was organizing a batch of ingredients for the next Scarabia banquet when you strolled into the kitchen. “Jamil, you’re always working so hard,” you said, your voice lilting with a teasing edge.

Jamil didn’t look up from his task, though the way his grip tightened on the spoon betrayed his reaction to your presence. “Someone has to,” he muttered, keeping his voice neutral.

You leaned against the counter, watching him with that playful glint in your eye. “But don’t you ever get tired of being so... responsible all the time?”

Jamil glanced at you, his eyes narrowing slightly. “What are you getting at?”

You grinned, reaching for one of the nearby aprons. “I’m saying, maybe you need a break. Let someone else take care of things for once.”

Jamil snorted, shaking his head. “And who exactly would that be? You?”

You slid the apron over your head, your movements far too casual. “Why not? I can handle a kitchen just fine.”

Jamil raised an eyebrow, watching as you tied the apron with a flourish. “Somehow, I doubt that.”

You shot him a playful wink. “Guess you’ll just have to trust me.”

For once, Jamil was at a loss. The idea of letting go, even for a second, was foreign to him. But the way you moved with such confidence... it made him wonder what it would be like to let someone else take control, just for a little while. “Fine,” he said after a moment, crossing his arms. “But if you burn anything, you’re cleaning it up.”

You grinned, reaching for the nearest pan. “Deal.”

And as you moved around the kitchen, humming to yourself, Jamil found himself watching you with a mix of exasperation and something warmer—something he wasn’t quite ready to admit.

Vil Schoenheit

Vil had always prided himself on his perfection. His looks, his demeanor, everything about him was carefully crafted to be flawless. But you? You were the one person who could make him forget all of that, even if just for a moment.

He was seated at his vanity, carefully applying his skincare routine when you entered the room. “You know, Vil, you’re almost too perfect,” you said, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk.

Vil raised an eyebrow, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror. “Almost?”

You stepped closer, your eyes glinting with mischief. “Yeah. But perfection’s boring.”

Vil turned slightly, regarding you with a cool, appraising look. “I see. And what, pray tell, would you suggest?”

You grinned, walking up behind him and resting your chin on his shoulder. “Maybe you should loosen up a little. Try being... I don’t know, human.”

Vil’s lips curved into a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m afraid that would be lowering my standards.”

You chuckled, your breath warm against his neck. “Or maybe it would just make you more relatable.”

Vil’s gaze flicked to yours, a spark of something sharp and amused in his eyes. “I’m not interested in being relatable.”

You straightened, your smile widening. “Good thing I’m not asking you to be.”

Vil turned fully to face you now, his violet eyes narrowing slightly. “Then what are you asking?”

You shrugged, your tone playful. “Maybe I’m just asking you to let me in.”

For a brief moment, Vil’s carefully crafted facade cracked, and he found himself wondering what it would be like to let someone see beyond the perfection. But he quickly composed himself, his smile returning. “Perhaps.”

But the way his heart skipped a beat told him that you were already closer than he’d like to admit.

Rook Hunt

Rook loved beauty in all its forms. He admired it, sought it out, and treasured it. But there was something about you—something wild, unpredictable, and utterly enchanting—that drew him in like nothing else.

You were standing at the edge of the Pomefiore courtyard, gazing out at the forest beyond when Rook appeared beside you. “Ah, mon trésor,” he murmured, his voice soft and reverent. “What a beautiful sight.”

You glanced at him, smirking. “You say that about everything.”

Rook chuckled, his green eyes gleaming with amusement. “Perhaps. But in your case, it is always true.”

You rolled your eyes, though the warmth in his gaze made your heart flutter. “You’re such a romantic.”

Rook smiled, leaning in just a little closer. “Can you blame me? You are... irresistible.”

You raised an eyebrow, your smirk turning playful. “Am I?”

Rook’s eyes sparkled, his voice dropping to a murmur. “Without question.”

For a moment, you were caught in his gaze, the intensity of his admiration washing over you like a wave. But then, with a grin, you stepped back, breaking the spell. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to keep chasing me, then.”

Rook laughed, his heart racing at the challenge. “Ah, mon cœur, I would chase you to the ends of the earth.”

And as you turned away, a smile playing on your lips, Rook knew that he would do just that—no matter how long it took.

Epel Felmier

Epel had heard rumors about you—whispers in the halls of an incubus who could charm anyone with just a glance. But that wasn’t what caught his attention. It was your mix of quiet strength and subtle flirtation that kept him intrigued. You had this easy confidence that drove him wild, even though he’d never admit it.

You were lounging on a low wall near the Pomefiore gardens, basking in the afternoon sun when Epel stormed up, looking as if he had something to prove. "So, how does it work? Your whole 'incubus charm' thing?" His tone was half curious, half challenging.

You chuckled, tilting your head. "You want a lesson, Felmier?"

Epel crossed his arms, trying to appear unaffected, though the slight flush on his cheeks gave him away. "Nah, I just... I don’t get it. How do ya make people swoon without even trying?"

You smiled, leaning forward slightly, your voice dropping to a low, teasing murmur. "Maybe I just have that effect on you."

Epel’s eyes widened, and he quickly looked away, cheeks turning a brighter red. "Y-yeah, right. As if!"

You laughed softly, standing up and stepping closer, close enough for Epel to feel the warmth radiating from you. "You seem flustered. Careful now, or people might think you're one of my admirers."

Epel swallowed hard, trying to regain his composure. "I ain’t like the others, y’know. You’re not gonna charm me that easily."

"Oh, Epel," you teased, brushing a finger lightly under his chin, tilting his face up to meet your gaze. "Who said I was trying?"

Epel froze, heart pounding in his chest, his usual bravado completely melting under your touch. But before he could say anything, you pulled back, leaving him standing there, speechless and confused.

"You’re fun to mess with," you said with a wink, turning to walk away. "But don’t worry. I like you for more than just your pretty face."

As you disappeared down the path, Epel stood there, face burning and thoughts racing. He wasn’t sure if he was flattered or completely thrown off balance, but one thing was for sure—he was hooked.

Idia Shroud

Idia hated attention, and you—an incubus who naturally drew people in—was the last person he expected to become infatuated with. But there was something about you that made it impossible for him to focus on anything else. It didn’t help that you seemed to enjoy making him squirm.

He was holed up in his room, hunched over his desk, when you casually materialized in the middle of the room. "Yo, Idia," you greeted with a grin. "Miss me?"

Idia nearly fell out of his chair, his hands fumbling to close several tabs on his computer in a panic. "W-what the—don’t sneak up on me like that!"

You chuckled, leaning against his desk with your usual easy confidence. "You’re cute when you’re flustered, y’know that?"

Idia’s face turned bright red, and he pulled his hoodie over his head, muttering under his breath. "N-n-not cute. I’m not... cute."

You smirked, leaning in closer. "Oh, but you are. The way you hide in your hoodie, the way you avoid eye contact... It’s pretty endearing."

Idia peeked out from under his hoodie, his golden eyes wide with a mix of confusion and disbelief. "Endearing? M-me?"

"Mm-hmm," you hummed, reaching out to brush a strand of his blue hair away from his face. "You’re more interesting than you think, Shroud."

Idia’s breath hitched, and he quickly pulled his hood tighter, as if it could somehow protect him from your teasing. "Y-you must be messing with me," he muttered, his voice barely audible.

You grinned, leaning back but keeping your eyes on him. "Maybe a little. But I mean it. You’ve got this whole mysterious, untouchable vibe going on. It’s kind of hot."

Idia froze, his mind short-circuiting at the word "hot" being used in reference to him. He stared at his screen, trying to pretend like he wasn’t blushing furiously under his hood. "Th-this is like... some kind of nightmare..."

You laughed, pushing off the desk and heading toward the door. "Nah, just a dream you’re not ready for yet."

Idia didn’t dare look up as you left, but his heart was racing, and his mind was filled with thoughts he had no idea how to process. You were dangerous, but also kind of intoxicating. And despite everything, he found himself looking forward to the next time you’d appear in his room out of nowhere.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus was used to people fearing him, revering him even. But you? You weren’t scared. In fact, you treated him with the same teasing confidence as everyone else, and that... intrigued him.

You had found him in his usual spot by the gargoyles, admiring the stone figures with that serene look on his face. You leaned casually against a nearby pillar, watching him for a moment before speaking. "Y’know, for someone so powerful, you sure spend a lot of time alone."

Malleus turned to you, his emerald eyes gleaming with curiosity. "Does that surprise you?"

You grinned, walking over to stand beside him. "A little. I mean, shouldn’t someone like you have people fawning over them all the time?"

Malleus raised an eyebrow, his voice calm but amused. "I am not particularly interested in such... distractions."

You chuckled, giving him a playful nudge. "Oh, come on. Everyone needs a little attention sometimes. Even you."

Malleus looked at you for a moment, his gaze lingering on your face. "And you believe you are the one to provide it?"

You met his gaze, your smile softening just a bit. "Maybe. Or maybe I’m just curious about what makes you tick."

Malleus considered your words, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in your playful demeanor. "You are unlike any other... bold, yet not reckless."

You smirked, leaning closer. "I’ll take that as a compliment."

Malleus tilted his head, studying you with an intensity that made your heart race. "Perhaps it was meant as one."

For a moment, the air between you was thick with unspoken tension, but you broke it with a light laugh, stepping back. "Well, if you ever get tired of talking to gargoyles, you know where to find me."

Malleus watched as you turned to leave, his lips curving into a small smile. "Indeed. I may take you up on that offer."

And as you walked away, you couldn’t help but feel like you’d just unlocked a side of Malleus Draconia that few had ever seen. The thrill of it was enough to make your heart race.

Lilia Vanrouge

Lilia had lived through centuries and seen all manner of beings, but you—a cheeky incubus with a penchant for teasing—caught his interest more than anyone in recent memory. You had a charm about you that was hard to ignore, and Lilia, of course, found it entertaining.

One evening, you found him lounging upside down on a tree branch, casually playing a game on his phone. You leaned against the trunk, grinning up at him. "Don’t you ever get tired of hanging upside down like a bat?"

Lilia’s red eyes flickered toward you, and he chuckled softly. "Why would I? The world looks more amusing this way. And I get to see delightful surprises, like you."

You smirked, folding your arms. "Flattery will get you everywhere, you know."

"Ah, but I don't need flattery with you, do I?" Lilia responded smoothly, dropping down from the tree and landing gracefully beside you. "You're already drawn to me."

You laughed, stepping closer. "Confident, are we? You must know my type, then?"

Lilia’s smile widened, his sharp fangs peeking through. "Perhaps. You do have a taste for the mysterious and ancient, do you not?"

You raised an eyebrow, leaning in just enough to make the air between you crackle with tension. "Maybe I like a little danger."

Lilia’s eyes gleamed mischievously. "Careful now. I might just take you up on that."

For a moment, there was a spark of something unspoken between you—something thrilling, intoxicating. But you knew Lilia well enough to know he enjoyed the dance as much as you did. You gave him a wink before pulling back. "See you around, old man."

Lilia chuckled, watching you walk away with a look of pure amusement. "I do enjoy our little games," he murmured to himself. "Such an interesting soul you are."

Silver

Silver had always been calm and composed, his emotions well-guarded behind his serene expression. But with you, something shifted. You had a way of breaking through his defenses, and even if he tried to ignore it, you seemed determined to fluster him.

One afternoon, you found Silver in a quiet spot near the garden, practicing his swordsmanship. He was focused, moving with precision, but you, being you, couldn’t resist a little disruption. "Nice form," you called out, leaning against a tree. "But I bet you’ve never faced a foe like me."

Silver paused, lowering his sword and turning to you with his usual calm gaze. "Are you suggesting a duel?"

You grinned, stepping forward. "Not exactly. More like a... sparring of wits. I think I’m winning already."

Silver blinked, clearly puzzled by your words, but there was a slight twitch of a smile at the corner of his lips. "I wasn’t aware we were competing."

"That’s because I’m subtle," you teased, giving him a playful look. "You should keep up."

Silver’s eyes softened, and for a moment, his usual stoic expression faltered. "I’m trying. But you... you’re not easy to figure out."

You took another step closer, your voice dropping to a more intimate tone. "Maybe that’s part of the fun."

Silver’s breath caught for a moment, and he quickly looked away, clearing his throat. "You’re... different from anyone I’ve met before."

"And that’s a good thing?" you asked, genuinely curious.

Silver nodded slowly, meeting your eyes with a sincerity that made your heart flutter. "Yes. It’s a good thing."

For a moment, the two of you stood there in comfortable silence, the connection between you growing stronger. And though Silver was not one for grand gestures or flirtatious banter, his presence alone made you feel something deeper than words could express.

Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek was nothing if not loyal to Malleus, and that made dealing with you—a distracting, charming incubus—all the more frustrating for him. No matter how hard he tried to focus on his duties, you always seemed to show up at the worst possible moments, throwing him off balance with your teasing.

You found Sebek in the library, his nose buried in a book about fae history. With a sly grin, you slipped into the chair beside him, leaning on your elbow and watching him intently. "You know, Sebek, you could use a break every now and then."

Sebek stiffened, his green eyes narrowing as he glanced at you. "I have no time for distractions! Lord Malleus requires my full attention at all times!"

"Uh-huh," you replied, clearly not buying it. "I’m sure Malleus is off doing his own thing. Meanwhile, you’re here, working too hard."

Sebek slammed his book shut, standing abruptly. "I am not ‘working too hard!’ I am doing my duty! Unlike some people who waste their time with frivolous nonsense!"

You smirked, standing up to match his energy. "Frivolous, huh? Is that what you think of me?"

Sebek’s face turned red, but whether from anger or embarrassment, you couldn’t tell. "Y-you’re always... always causing trouble! With your... your incubus ways!"

"Incubus ways?" you repeated with a laugh, stepping closer to him. "Sebek, you’re adorable when you’re flustered."

"I am not flustered!" he barked, though his reddening face said otherwise.

You leaned in, lowering your voice just enough to make him even more uncomfortable. "You’re really bad at hiding it, y’know."

Sebek sputtered, taking a step back as if he didn’t know how to handle the situation. "I... I have no time for your... your charm!"

You grinned, thoroughly enjoying the effect you had on him. "Don’t worry, Sebek. I’ll leave you alone... for now."

As you walked away, you heard Sebek muttering something under his breath about ‘distractions’ and ‘duty,’ but the small smile on your face told you everything you needed to know. He was hooked—whether he liked it or not.

Rollo Flamme

Rollo prided himself on being composed, dignified, and resistant to the distractions of the outside world—especially when it came to magic. Yet, no matter how hard he tried to avoid the temptations of the world, you always seemed to challenge his resolve.

It was an unspoken game between the two of you. Whenever you visited the City of Flowers, you'd find a way to tease him, either with your charm or just by being yourself—a confident, unabashed incubus who was clearly enjoying Rollo’s discomfort.

One afternoon, you caught Rollo walking through the garden, looking as serious as ever. "Rollo, fancy seeing you out here in the sunshine," you said with a grin, stepping into his path.

He stopped, eyeing you warily. "What do you want?"

"Now, is that any way to greet a friend?" you teased, taking a step closer. "I was just admiring the flowers. They seem to like the sunshine—maybe you should give it a try."

Rollo’s brow furrowed, his eyes narrowing as if he was trying to understand your motives. "I have no interest in trivial matters like sunlight. I have more important things to attend to."

"Of course you do," you said, rolling your eyes. "But maybe you should lighten up a bit. Enjoy life while you can."

Rollo’s expression hardened, clearly annoyed by your carefree attitude. "Not everyone indulges in hedonism like you, incubus."

You chuckled, crossing your arms. "Who said anything about hedonism? I’m just suggesting you try having some fun."

"Fun," Rollo repeated, the word sounding foreign on his tongue. "Fun is not my priority."

"Maybe it should be," you said, giving him a sly look. "Life’s too short to be so serious all the time."

Rollo’s lips pressed into a thin line, his resolve clearly wavering. "You’re wasting your breath. I won’t be swayed by your... charms."

You grinned, leaning in just a little closer. "We’ll see about that."

As you walked away, you couldn’t help but notice the way Rollo’s gaze lingered on you for just a moment too long. Maybe, just maybe, you were starting to wear him down.

Neige LeBlanche

Neige was a sweetheart—open, cheerful, and always kind-hearted. He found your presence comforting in a way that surprised even him. Despite your incubus nature, he was drawn to your charm, though it was clear you used it in a more subtle way around him.

One snowy evening, the two of you were out in the village, walking together under the falling snow. Neige was humming a soft tune, his usual cheery self, but there was a quiet warmth between you that wasn’t there before.

"You really like the snow, don’t you?" you asked, watching as Neige caught a snowflake on his finger.

He smiled, his cheeks rosy from the cold. "It reminds me of home. There’s something so peaceful about it."

You nodded, watching the way the snowflakes danced around him. "It suits you. You’re like a snow prince."

Neige laughed softly, his eyes twinkling. "That’s a sweet thing to say. But I’m just me."

"Just you?" you echoed, tilting your head. "Neige, you’re a lot more than just ‘you.’ You’re... warm. Kind. You make people feel at ease, even me."

Neige looked at you, surprised by your honesty. "I didn’t know you felt that way."

"Of course I do," you said with a smile. "You’re different from anyone I’ve met. Most people don’t look past the whole incubus thing, but you... you see more."

Neige’s smile softened, and he reached out to gently take your hand. "I don’t see you as an incubus. I see you as... someone special."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and for once, you didn’t have a witty comeback. Instead, you squeezed his hand, feeling the warmth of his touch against the cold winter air.

"Neige..." you began, but before you could say more, he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

"Thank you," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "For being you."

You stood there in the snow, your heart racing as you realized just how much Neige meant to you. And for once, you let yourself enjoy the moment without any teasing or playful banter—just the quiet, tender connection between you and him.

Che’nya

If anyone was as mischievous as you, it was Che’nya. The two of you were a chaotic pair, always getting into some kind of trouble together. He found your incubus abilities amusing, often encouraging you to use them to mess with others. But when it came to the two of you, there was an unspoken understanding that your games were more than just harmless fun.

One day, you found Che’nya lounging in a tree, his signature grin plastered across his face. You jumped up to join him, perching on the branch beside him. "Up to no good again?" you asked, smirking.

"Always," Che’nya replied, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "But what about you? I hear you’ve been causing quite the stir lately."

You grinned, leaning back against the trunk. "What can I say? It’s in my nature."

Che’nya chuckled, leaning closer to you. "You do have a way of stirring things up. But I wonder... what would happen if you turned your charm on me?"

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the challenge. "Is that a dare?"

"It’s an invitation," Che’nya said, his grin widening. "Let’s see if you can out-charm me, incubus."

You leaned in, your face mere inches from his. "Careful what you wish for, Che’nya. You might just fall for me."

Che’nya’s eyes twinkled with amusement, but there was a hint of something more in his gaze. "Maybe I already have."

For a moment, the playful banter between you fell away, replaced by a spark of real connection. You could feel the tension in the air, the unspoken understanding that there was more between you than just teasing and games.

But, true to form, Che’nya was the first to break the moment with a laugh. "You’re good, I’ll give you that. But I’m not so easily won over."

You chuckled, shaking your head. "We’ll see about that."

As you jumped down from the tree, you glanced back at Che’nya, your grin widening. "I’ll be back to claim my victory, Cheshire."

Che’nya’s grin never faltered as he watched you walk away, but deep down, he knew that when it came to you, he was already losing the game.

Masterlist

[neuvislover]

☆༉ — 𝔀𝓻𝓲𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓼𝓵𝓮𝔂. when in your arms, I feel safe.

about. wriothesley arms

tags. fluff, established relationship, wriothesley being protective, talk about injuries

I can’t stop thinking about wriothesley arms

When you're feeling down, you would often think about wriothesley's arms. Yes, one reason is because his arms are extremely attractive and it lifts your mood. But more importantly, wriothesley's arms are the safest place on earth.

wriothesley is so protective over you, he's practically like your guard dog. Like scary dog privileges? Check! No matter where you are, whether you're at home, in a quiet street or shop, at a loud party, or an extremely crowded street, wriothesley makes an effort to keep an eye on you. Even if you are someone who is more conscious of your surroundings, it's basically second nature to him at this point.

wriothesley is always ready to step in to protect you from anything, anyone, and everything. At the first signs of danger or if he sees you being uncomfortable, you don't need to say anything, he's already there. Often, he uses his arms (and hands) to pull you away from danger like falling objects or people intentionally/ unintentionally bumping into you. Or, he would use his arms to physically shield you from any danger that comes your way.

There has certainly been more than one occasion when you're at home or in a store trying to reach something on the higher shelf when an object starts to fall on you. Instead of it hitting you, you always look up to see wriothesley's arms between you on the falling object. He never ever scolds you for being clumsy or not asking him for help. Instead, he's just happy that he was able to protect you. The bumps, scrapes, and bruises littered on his arm don't bother him. In fact, he's rather proud of them. It means he was able to save you from feeling that pain. Plus, it helps that you tenderly look after his injuries and give him kisses after.

Besides that, wriothesley's arms are your lifeline. He's always happy to let you cling onto his arm whenever you want.

He finds it so endearing that he's basically your comfort person. You cling onto his arm in crowded places so you don't get lost and also to soothe the overwhelming feeling of just being in a crowd. You practically cling onto his arm anywhere at any time. It brings you comfort. Something about clinging onto his arms grounds you. It helps to calm you when your nerves are in overdrive. Of course, the physical touch and close proximity to his person helps too.

Big strong muscular arms = warmest, best hugs. wriothesley loves to swing his arms around you. From the front, from the back, around your waist, hips, legs?), you name it, his arms have been around it before. He loves bringing you closer to him. And no matter how warm it gets, you can't help but adore being hugged by him. Whether you are happy, sad, or just feeling a complex mix of emotions, wriothesley is always there for you with his arms outstretched, ready for you to dive into them.

When wriothesley envelopes you in his arms, it's like the feeling of a warm, weighted blanket being wrapped around you on the coldest of winter nights. At the same time, it feels like a different kind of weight, an emotional or mental one, has been lifted from your person. It's the feeling of coming home and being able to finally relax. The physical sight and feeling of his arms wrapping around you also feels like you are taking refuge behind a large, resilient shield. One that would hide you away and protect you from all the hardship in the world.

wriothesley's arms being around you brings physical protection, mental stability, emotional reprieve, comfort, love, the feeling of home, a feeling of liberation, and protection all at once. And there's no place else you would rather be.

[queen-anarchy-666]

Okay so apparently kids these days don't know how to be safe online because their parents are fucking stupid and don't know anything about the internet!!!

So I'm gonna tell you teenagers how to be safe and not get abused because there is no shortage of predators on the internet. I'm gonna go from super basic things you can do to keep yourself safe to more specific instances where a predator may be trying to groom you that you can recognize. Remember though; if you are abused or have been abused it is not your fault. You deserve protection and you deserve respect as a minor, regardless of how you spend your time on the internet. Victim blaming helps nobody but predators, but there are ways you can protect yourself, even though you shouldn't always have to.

Basic tips:

DO NOT SHARE YOUR REAL NAME

DO NOT SHARE YOUR AGE

DO NOT SHARE WHERE YOU LIVE

DO NOT SHARE PHOTOS OR VIDEOS OF YOURSELF

DO NOT SHARE PHOTOS OF YOUR HOUSE

IT IS OKAY TO BLOCK WHOEVER YOU WANT, WHENEVER YOU WANT, REGARDLESS OF THE REASON.

Don't sacrifice your safety, comfort, or peace of mind just for someone else's feelings! Especially a stranger! Also, if you think something is off, it probably is. You need to trust your gut. SPEAK UP! Tell a trusted friend, sibling, or adult! I'm sure you've heard the phrase "silence is violence" -- this phrase goes for abuse as well! Unsafe people want you to stay quiet so they can continue to harm you or others. It is not inherently problematic to have friends who are adults, in fact it is healthy and helpful to have friends who are older than you, however we live in a world where you cannot trust many adults, so you need to be cautious of adults you encounter at all times, including ones you know well or are well known by others. It is also not inherently problematic to be asked many of the questions above, but it is important to ask yourself whether or not you want to give that information to the person asking. If not, simply tell them that you do not give out that information and redirect the conversation, or block if you feel uncomfortable.

MOST IMPORTANTLY, DO NOT INSERT YOURSELF INTO ADULT SPACES.

I know it is tempting, especially with the way hormones effect judgement and your emotions, and we all want to be included, but inserting yourself into spaces you know you should not be by lying about your age is incredibly unsafe and leads to horrible situations that aren't always easy to get out of. This includes adult fandom spaces, websites, searching adult topics, NSFW blogs or accounts, and even group chats. Even if your friends invite you to these spaces, it does not mean you should neglect your safety to be accepted. It's okay and encouraged to say no. You will thank yourself when you get older!

More Specific Tips:

YOU SHOULDN'T PUT YOUR MENTAL ILLNESSES OR DEVELOPMENTAL DISABILITIES IN YOUR BIOS ON YOUR ACCOUNTS.

Awareness and solidarity for mental illness and disabilities is very important, however predators are more likely to go after people who may have a more difficult time discerning what is normal and what is not in social situations, especially when speaking to an authority figure like an adult. Do not make yourself a target by listing the ways you struggle with social cues, understanding rules and safety, or communication. It is okay to seek solidarity, but there are predators seeking out disabled and mentally ill youths to abuse.

DO NOT OFFER INFORMATION ABOUT YOUR SCHOOL ON THE INTERNET.

It is dangerous to release information about your whereabouts in any capacity on the internet, especially your school where you are doubly putting your peers and classmates in danger as well. If you come into contact or into the orbit of a predator that is bent on finding you or meeting you, your school is a public place where one may feel brazen enough to pretend they know you. Even if other kids are doing it by posting fight videos or even innocent videos, doesn't mean you should.

JUST BECAUSE SOMEONE INSISTS THEY'RE A SAFE PERSON DOES NOT MEAN THAT THEY ARE.

People lie on the internet all the time, including in some really bizarre and meaningless ways, but there will always be people who lie to get closer to someone to make them a victim. Just because someone tells you they are against abuse or even if they advocate against it does not mean that they themselves are a safe person. Predators will do anything they can to get you to trust them, and while predators are usually very pushy and want things to go quickly, some will take their time to groom you.

!!!!BIG RED FLAGS!!!!

IF YOU SEE ANY OF THIS BEHAVIOR, RUN! BLOCK AND REPORT PEOPLE WHO DO THESE THINGS FOR YOUR SAFETY! IT'S NEVER WORTH STICKING AROUND THESE KINDS OF PEOPLE!

THEY CONTINUALLY SEND YOU SEXUALLY EXPLICIT MATERIAL, INCLUDING FANART, FANFIC, AND VIDEOS.

THEY TELL YOU AGE IS JUST A NUMBER, OR LOVE HAS NO AGE.

THEY EXPRESS THE OPINION THAT MINORS CAN CONSENT TO SEXUAL ACTIVITY.

THEY CONSTANTLY MAKE "JOKES" ABOUT MINORS IN A SEXUAL WAY OR ABOUT BEING ATTRACTED TO MINORS.

THEY EMPHASIZE THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING "LEGAL" AT THE AGE OF 18 OR FIXATE ON AGE OF CONSENT LAWS.

THEY GET ANGRY AT YOU FOR SETTING A BOUNDARY OR IF YOU MENTION TELLING YOUR PARENTS.

THEY ENJOY "LOLI" OR "SHOTA" MATERIAL OR ENTHUSE ABOUT THOSE TYPES OF CHARACTERS.

THEY CALL YOU PET NAMES THAT YOU AREN'T COMFORTABLE WITH, EVEN WHEN YOU TELL THEM NOT TO.

THEY ASK YOU HIGHLY PERSONAL QUESTIONS ABOUT SEXUAL ACTIVITY, YOUR PERIODS, OR MASTURBATION.

THEY TELL YOU THAT YOU'RE MATURE FOR YOUR AGE, OR THAT YOU'RE NOT LIKE OTHER KIDS BECAUSE YOU'RE MORE ADULT THAN THEY ARE.

THEY ASK YOU TO SEND PHOTOS OR VIDEOS OF YOURSELF DOING SEXUALLY CHARGED THINGS, WHICH INCLUDES DANCING OR STRIPPING, OR SPECIFIC PARTS OF YOUR BODY.

THEY KEEP STEERING THE CONVERSATION IN A SEXUAL DIRECTION. THIS INCLUDES ROLEPLAY!

NONE OF THIS BEHAVIOR IS NORMAL. IT IS NOT NORMAL FOR AN ADULT TO ASK HIGHLY PERVASIVE QUESTIONS OR TO BECOME PUSHY OR ANGRY IF YOU EXPRESS DISCOMFORT. BLOCK AND REPORT THESE TYPE OF PEOPLE, THEY EXHIBIT BEHAVIOR CONSISTENT WITH SEXUAL ABUSE PATTERNS.

Adults and Minors alike please feel free to reblog. It is imperative that young people who don't know these things learn them, because the only thing a predator hates more than a jail cell is a minor who cannot be abused.

[bibluebutterfly]

It is truthfully so impressive to watch how we've watched Stolas grow as a seemingly asshole character to a genuine person who truly does want the best for the person we love. (HEADS UP: This is LONG)

Now, and we're only going to lightly touch on this because the Pilot isn't cannon, but it still contributed to the public opinion on Stolas. In other words, he was borderline predatory in a way that made EVERYONE uncomfortable. (It makes sense though since he was innitially supposed to be the villain. Which thank goodness that was changed because we already see enough bisexual predators in media as it is. Yes, I'm headcannoning that Pilot Stolas was bi.)

Then we get official episode 1. Stolas is... not much better. Although to his credit, he's not as bad or as creepish. The unfair power dynamic is very there, and he definitely talks down to Blitz, but at least he waits until Blitz agrees before getting to the pilot level of sexual.

And then we kind of just keep this up until episode 7. Stolas is VERY sexual and VERY horny with Blitz, and you either like it or you don't. It was consensual, nobody forced anything, and even Blitz says that he doesn't fuss about banging Stolas, but that power imbalance is very much there.

Stolas is calling him by pet names like "my little imp" and is baby talking him, which really comes off like his fetish is sleeping with the lower class. Again, you either like Stolas at this point or you don't.

HOWEVER, despite all his baby talk and just generally inappropriate behavior, we are shown very early on that Stolas has a loving side, mainly in the form of his daughter. "You Will Be Okay" was the thing that got most people from hating him to actually liking him. It was the thing that separated him from just being a horny owl.

Then Ozzies. Hooo boy. This is where we finally get to see Stolas apart from Blitz's POV and as it turns out... he's kind of a pathetic dork more than anything else. We see him go very low. Like the man is alone in his big house eating cereal for breakfast in his bathrobe and watching telenovelas. It's hard to go lower than that. More importantly, it's a stark contrast from how we saw him just one episode ago.

Not just that, but when he's asked out on the date he is genuinely so excited and awkward that you just can't help but feel bad for the guy.

And then we have Hells healthiest couple have their dick moment which leads to Stolas covering his face, validating every and anything Blitz had feared, which lead to him calling out Stolas which leads to them both crying at home.

AND THEN WE GET THE THING THAT MAKES EVERYONE EITHER LOVE STOLAS OR THINK THAT HE'S RUINED.... THE CIRCUS.

Yeah, so it turns out the arranged marriage theory was true, and that Stella has been verbally abusive for who knows how long. But the real kicker is how much it explains Stolas's behavior from season 1. As it turns out, Blitz coming on so strong that night resulted in Stolas trying (badly) to copy that energy. And it turns out that when Blitz told him to stop that first night, he still ended up tying Stolas up and banging him. So... understandable. It turns out that Stolas never wanted to be malicious with his intentions, but genuinely thought that the arrangement was something that they both wanted.

But at the same time, he realizes that misunderstanding or no, a part of him did recognize that Blitz wasn't as happy as he was, and that he can't gaslight himself into thinking otherwise anymore.

Now the big thing about season 2 we all need to talk about, is how hard and fast it took Stolas off the regal and powerful pedestal that I think we all subconsciously put him on. Whatever mystery and darkness that surrounded him in season 1 went completely out the window in season 2. But personally I believe that this fits as season 1 was mostly told from Blitz's POV while season 2 takes place in Stolas's when he's there.

Stolas does not see himself as something regal and powerful. Stolas, as it turns out, is a romantic as well as a MASSIVE dork. Like he's disney princess levels of dorkiness. The man even gets his own slapstick moment for crying out loud.

But aside from that, he's highly intelligent and a genuinely good person who will put others before him if he can recognize the benefit.

Also, while we're on the topic, I don't think that Stolas is as powerful as we or Blitz were led to believe. Like yes, he's got immense power to those who have none.

But at the same time, put him next to Asmodeus, and this demon who seemed so strong before is actually tiny in comparison. Especially when noted that Ozzie was still holding back in this scene.

Now we have the "Look My Way" MV. By now, any dark mystery is gone, we know who Stolas is, but what we didn't expect to see was how blatantly Stolas realized his mistakes and took responsibility. This whole season we saw him be sad over his relationship with Blitz, but we never expected him to realize just how badly he messed up.

But he did. And it was glorious. And again, we realize how much he truly cares for Blitz, this isn't just him saying "I care about him" then doing nothing. This is him realizing he cares about Blitz, and wanting to do something to make it right. Even if that means Blitz will never want to see him again.

Anyway. If you made it this far, I'm impressed. As I've said before, I'm proud of the owl boy and how far he's come as a character. Tell me if you think I missed anything.

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Idia Shroud - Tsumsitter Vignette

"A Moment with Idiatsum I"

[Main Street]

―Idia and Vil, immediately after encountering their look-alike tsums…

Vil: Honestly, what a handful they are… Idia, we must capture those tsums.

Idia: Eeh…!? Wh-why do I have to go with you…?

Vil: Are you content with having those peanuts outfox us? Quickly, now!

Idia: Urrgh, why is this happening to me…? I shouldn't've gone outside…

[Idia and Vil start searching]

Idia: Not like we even know where the tsums ran off too…

Vil: Oh! I found a tsum! Idia, help me capture it.

Idia: Eep…! As you wish…!

Vil: Good thing we were able to capture it fairly quickly. Be good, now, peanut.

Idia: Can't believe we found it posing under a lamp light… Fuheehee, Vil-shi, your tsum's real silly～

Vil: And do you think you have any time to be prattling away, still? Hurry and find your tsum already.

Vil: I'll be heading off to the Headmage's office now.

Idia: HUH!? Why…?

Vil: Well, why not? There's no reason for me to stay here longer than I need to.

Idia: B-But…! I came in as reinforcements to capture your tsum!

Vil: All you did was follow many paces behind me. So, goodbye.

Idia: W-Wait, wait, wait a moment! We just took our eyes off the tsums for a sec and they vanished, right!?

Idia: That means their speed stats are way too OP! There's no way I can catch them with my own weak skill set…

Idia: IT'S AN IMPOSSIBLE QUEST!!!

Vil: I understand what you're trying to say, but… It would just be a waste of my time to go searching for it without any plan.

Idia: I-I think I can guess where Tsum-shi would be… And I have a strat forming.

Vil: What are you thinking?

Idia: J-Just hear me out.

[Interior Hallway]

Vil: If this tsum takes after the introverted Idia, of course it would run indoors… Makes perfect sense.

Vil: Now it comes down to whether your ace strategy will succeed…

Idia: And, here we go. Pretty good for something I just slapped together with what I had on hand.

Vil: All you did was lean a basket on a vertical stick and laid a tablet underneath it. What's "pretty good" about it?

～♪

Vil: And the tablet is just playing some weird music on loop. What an eerie noise.

Idia: Huh? You seriously doesn't get how good this BGM is? This is why I just can't with normies…

Vil: You're planning to lure the tsum here with this music, yes? We should go hide ourselves in the shadows now.

[Idia's tsum follows the sound to the tablet]

Idia: Ah…

Vil: I can't believe it actually appeared…

Idia: Perf, it's checking out the tablet. Now all I have to do is pull the string attached to the string, and…

[thunk!]

Idia: It's under the basket!

[the tsum starts running frantically]

Idia: Wait, it's trying to run away even with the basket over it! Vil-shi, help!

Vil: Fine. You owe me for this, Idia.

[the tsum continues running]

[the tsum slows and finally stops]

Vil: …Oh, it stopped running. Perhaps it's accepted defeat.

Idia: I-I bet… It's just out of energy. It's kind of unsettling to see that it lacks stamina like me, too...

Vil: Well, at least your plan worked. Now then, we should hurry on to the Headmage's office.

[Ignihyde Dorm – Idia's Room]

Idia: Whew～ …Finally got to escape. I can't deal being stuck in the Headmage's office with that many people.

Idia: But still…

Idia: Tsum-shi, you've just been trying to avoid looking at anything, huh. …I mean, I definitely get it, tho.

Idia: I'm just as uncomfortable as you, you know… Didn't think the day would come that I'd let anyone else other than Ortho in here.

Idia: I guess if you're really like me, then you won't try to go outside anytime soon, so… Just gotta chill for now.

Idia: Think I'll just jump back into grinding in my online game to get outta this funk. 'Specially since we're in the middle of a EXP UP event.

Idia: Ugh, I fell asleep in the middle of my game again… Oh, it's 4:00 already. Gotta snag my login bonuses.

Idia: Hmm, where's my tablet? …Huh? I swear I threw it on my bed when I got back to my room…

Idia: More importantly, what's with this cardboard box? It's just sitting in the middle of my room, getting in my way…

[thud…!]

Idia: EEK!? The box moved on its own!?

Idia: Oh… I think I see what's happening… But I think I'll take a peek inside just in case.

[Idiatsum is under the box playing with the tablet]

Idia: Yuup, that was a given. So, Tsum-shi, what 're you doing with my tablet…?

Idia: …You're just re-rolling tutorial banners in some game??

"A Moment with Idiatsum II"

[Ignihyde Dorm – Idia's Room]

Idia: I showed it Premo merch, and the computer I built myself… Even showed it a ton of my other prized stuff…

Idia: But after all that, it got mad over MMORPG class roles. I'm so over this Tsum-shi.

Idia: Ugggh～ I was dumb, thinkin' I could take care of it myself. I'm not gonna do anything for it anymore.

Ortho: But you have to, the Headmage gave it to you to look after.

Idia: It'll be fine on its own. Or what, you wanna look after it?

Ortho: Hmmm, I don't really mind, but… I have to get going to my Film Research Club after this.

Idia: Eh!? You're heading out!?

Ortho: It'll be alright! I'm sure you and the tsum'll patch things up! See you later!

Idia: Be safe…

[Ortho leaves]

[Idiatsum pings on the tablet…]

Idia: Ortho left… And now I'm stuck all alone with Tsum-shi, even though we're not getting along… THIS SUCKS!!!

Idia: Ughhh, I don't want to deal with it anymore, but I gotta at least get my tablet back from it…

Idia: U-Um… Think you could give my tablet back anytime soon?

Idia: Eeep!? N-Nevermind…

Idia: Wait, why am I backing off, anyway? That's my tablet, isn’t it?

[Idiatsum pings on the tablet…]

Idia: URRRGGH… THIS IS STRESSING ME OUT～～～!

Idia: At this rate, I'll lose my consecutive login streak… I have to get that tablet back somehow!

Idia: What can I do to grab its attention…? I've already shown every Premo thing I have, and my custom build computer…

Idia: What else would catch my eye…? Ah! I got it.

Idia: …Cool. Let's get it done.

[Idiatsum pings on the tablet…]

Idia: Hey, Tsum-shi～ can I bug you for a sec?

[Idiatsum gives Idia a grumpy stare]

Idia: It's still cranky, huh. Hey, come on, I'm the one that wants to be upset here… No, wait, I mean…

Idia: I made something pretty cool for you, Tsum-shi.

Idia: Think of it as a peace offering… This is for you.

[Idiatsum perks up]

Idia: Ohoo～ Do you like it? You see, this is…

[room door opens]

Ortho: I'm back! Were you two able to patch things up?

Idia: Perfect timing, Ortho～! We're just about to come to a compromise.

Ortho: What do you mean, compromise?

Idia: I built a super amazing multi-functional sofa to pull the Tsum-shi in… Or more aptly named, "Tsum-Melting Sofa"!

Ortho: You're going to… melt the tsum?

[the tsum happily hops]

Idia: Ooh. Looks like it gets just how awesome this sofa is.

Idia: Come on, Tsum-shi, sit, sit!

Idia: Time to show the features off ASAP. First... We have this!

[sofa shines brightly]

Ortho: Woah, the sofa lit up like a rainbow!

Idia: That's a must for gamers, you know. As for why it's gotta light up like that, no comment.

[the massage function is activated]

Idia: Then there's the massage function. Nerds like us tend to get tension all up in our shoulders and backs and such.

Idia: Next is this: Inside the sofa is a 7.1 surround sound system with an amp and woofer embedded with it.

～♪

[tsum hops to music]

Ortho: Nice, looks like the tsum is pretty into it!

Idia: Use this alongside the massager function and it'll sooth both your mind and body.

Idia: There's a bunch of other functions, too, like a monitor extension, unfolding footrest, easy reclining…

Idia: But that's not enough for you, right, Tsum-shi? Oh, I know.

Idia: Everything until now has just been the prologue. From here on out… We'll tackle the true face of this sofa!

"A Moment with Idiatsum III"

[Ignihyde Dorm – Idia's Room]

Idia: But that's not enough for you, right, Tsum-shi? Oh, I know.

Idia: Everything until now has just been the prologue. From here on out… We'll tackle the true face of this sofa!

Idia: Let's turn it… ON!

[whirr…]

Idia: Fhee hee hee hee! Looking at Tsum-shi's reaction, it's super effective!

Ortho: The tsum is really excited. Nii-san, what kind of function is that supposed to be?

Idia: Listen and be amazed, this sofa is integrated with MR… a Mixed Reality display!!

Ortho: Huh!? MR is that function that combines the real world with anchored virtual elements, right?

Ortho: The tsum doesn't even have a headset… You're amazing!!

Idia: I mean～ At first I thought about making it come with a headset, but I just kinda found my groove while making it.

Idia: This kind of tech is basically still in beta, but yeah, I rocked it… Oh man, that's a W for me. Heehee!

[the tsum hops happily]

Ortho: The tsum is overjoyed, too. I wonder what it's seeing.

Idia: The default setting is a live performance vide of Premo, so I bet Tsum-shi feels like its right there in the action.

Ortho: Makes sense. Hehe, it looks so happy.

Idia: Yeaaah, glad it's happy with it. Let me grab my tablet before anything else happens…

Idia: Perf, I finally got it back. Now I can keep my consecutive login streak going.

Ortho: Was that your goal here all along?

Idia: Obviously?

Ortho: Yeah, I definitely couldn't believe my eyes when it looked like you had made a real cool sofa to reconcile with the tsum, but…

Ortho: Now that I know it was for the sake of your games, it makes so much more sense!

Idia: See, you get me, Ortho～

Idia: Sides, that sofa is basically just a prototype. I adjusted a blueprint that I had made for myself down to Tsum-shi's size…

Idia: Then I just made it with whatever I had on hand, so there's a ton of functions still missing.

Idia: I'll make sure to collect as much data as possible before it heads back home.

[tsum hops off the sofa]

Ortho: Oh hey, the tsum jumped off the sofa.

Idia: HUH!?

Idia: T-TSUM-SHI... WAS THERE SOMETHING YOU DIDN'T LIKE?

Ortho: It's all smiles. Maybe it's trying to thank you?

Idia: Ah, is that it…?

Idia: Fuheehee! I knew you'd get how cool all those functions were, Tsum-shi.

Ortho: It's great that you and the tsum are getting along again!

Idia: …I guess so. We might've bumped heads, but we're both nerds in the end.

Idia: Guess it's not totally a bad thing that we'll part on good terms, especially since I got to meet someone just like me…

Requested by @farfalla049.

[insxghtt]

hot knife — ellie williams x reader

if Ellie is butter, then you're a hot knife.

warnings: fluff, lots of cursing (it's ellie), lesbians being really really gayyyy, ellie and reader are 18

based on a request. y'all needed it, i needed it, we all need this.

You were angry. Well, not angry like when someone tells you something you don’t really want to hear, or when someone messes with someone you deeply care about, or even when someone is trying to tell you what to do. No, this was a different type of angry. Something you have never felt before. 

It was like when you have a dog and this dog that you love so much only cares about someone else. Shit, you’re the one feeding it, you’re the one who covers that ungrateful dog with a blanket when it’s snowing outside, you’re the one who loves and would do anything to protect that dog when someone tries to hurt it, or kidnap it, or some shit like that. 

Of course, Ellie was not a dog. It’s not like you were comparing her to one, no. That would be just superficial and kind of mean, honestly. You cared about Ellie more than you would care about a dog. Also, Ellie was so much better than that. She was perfect. Every detail of her was just beautiful to you. You weren’t angry at her. You were angry at yourself for feeling like you were invisible every time she looked at her. 

Dina. 

Why did Ellie had to pay attention to every word she said? Why did she seem so happy when Dina talked to her? Most importantly, why did you care so much? It’s not like Ellie was your girlfriend. She was your best friend. Wasn’t it enough? 

Apparently, no, considering how shitty you felt when you saw Dina and Ellie laughing in the park while playing with snowballs. That morning, you were supposed to meet with her. You two made plans to have lunch together. Well, you didn’t plan that, but it became kind of a routine, so you though she would be waiting for you in front of your house like she always did. 

Ellie didn’t like to take care of herself. She was used to skip some meals and you were quick to notice it. Of course you would notice it, you were always looking at her. Since the day she arrived at Jackson for the first time. 

She was only fourteen then, but fourteen years were enough to make her tougher than the other kids. Tougher than you. You were more innocent than her then and that made it difficult for you two to connect. Yet somehow, you were able to sneak into her life. ‘If you are butter, I can be the hot knife’, you told her one time. That was the first time she laughed in front of you. Since that moment, you made it your goal to put a smile on her face at least once every single day. She deserved it. 

It hurt like hell when you realized you were not the only one doing it anymore. Dina was pretty, smart, confident. They made a good match if you look at it from any other point of view that it’s not yours. 

“You’re staring”, a voice next to you brough you back to earth. You didn’t have to look to know that it was Jesse. 

“You too.” 

“Do you think they’re like...”, he made a pause, obviously uncomfortable with the use of the word. “Lesbians... or something?” 

You raised your eyebrows and looked at him. “Is there a problem if they were?” 

“Well, I... No, it’s just that I...”, he stuttered. 

“You are unbelievable”, you sighed. 

“Hey!”, Ellie yelled when she saw you. “You!” 

She ran to you with a big smile in her face. For a second, you even forgot about that awful feeling. 

“I knocked at your door, but I guess you weren’t there anymore”, she stopped in front of you. Her cheeks were pink because of the cold. “Me and Dina went to sleep late yesterday, so I woke up late, and... you know.” 

Yes, of course, last night. When Dina and Ellie talked for hours and hours at the stable and you just decided to leave because it was just too much for you to handle. 

It was kind of funny how Jesse gulped when he heard Ellie saying that she and Dina were alone for hours. It obvious how much he liked Dina, but she didn’t seem to realize. 

“What were you two doing last night?”, Jesse asked. 

“They were doing drugs and making out, Jesse, that’s what they were doing.”, you said sarcastically. 

“Really?” 

“Oh my God...”, you rolled your eyes. 

“We were talking”, Dina explained to him while she was getting closer. 

He laughed nervously and nodded.  

“I’m sorry I made you wait”, Ellie said to you. 

“It’s fine.” 

You just shrugged and turned away, now heading to the bar where you usually had your lunch. Ellie looked at Dina without really knowing what to do. You didn’t sound fine. Dina gestured for her to follow you and that was what she did. 

You entered the bar with her. It was weird how distant you were, but she tried her best to stay positive. You saw Seth from far away and gave him a signal. He already knew you and Ellie pretty well. He didn’t exactly like you, but he liked Maria, Maria liked you and you liked Ellie. That meant free lunch every day. 

When you sat at one of the tables to wait for the food, she sat in front of you. 

“Listen, I found this movie in one of the patrols and I...” 

“That’s nice”, you interrupted her, staring at your hands. 

“Okay...”, she nodded. You were not interested in the movie. Alright. “So, I was thinking we could...” 

“Did you and Dina have fun last night?” 

She opened her mouth to answer, but Seth called your name before she could say anything. You stood up and walked to the man behind the counter. 

“Thank you, Seth”, you said before taking the two sandwiches. 

The man responded with a mumble. You didn’t look at Ellie when you gave her one of the sandwiches, but she still followed you when you walked out of the bar. 

“Can you slow down a bit?”, Ellie asked. 

It didn’t really make a difference. It took her a few seconds to realize where you were going. Your home. Something was off. You two usually had lunch in the park. When it was too cold, you went to her place because it was closer. 

When you finally arrived at your house, you didn’t ask her to come in. No, you entered the door and closed it behind you. Okay, that was just too much. 

“Hey, what the fuck is wrong with you?” 

“Oh, so now you care!”, you yelled too from inside the house. 

“What?”, she tried to open the door, but it was locked. “Did you just lock me outside your house?” 

There was silence for a few seconds. “No...” 

“The door seems pretty fucking locked to me!” 

You were being childish, and you knew it. With a sigh, you left the sandwich on the corner table and opened the door. Ellie stared at you, but she didn’t seem angry. No, she seemed... hurt? 

“Are you mad at me because I woke up late?” 

“Oh, fuck you! It’s not about that!” 

“Alright, then what is it?”, she crossed her arms, waiting for an explanation. 

You had no other option but to just deny it. 

“It’s nothing.” 

“Really? You think I'm gonna buy that?” 

“I don’t need you to, it’s the truth”, you shrugged. 

“So, you just ignored me and locked me out of your house for nothing?” 

“Maybe I didn’t see you.” 

“You did see me.” 

“Maybe it was the wind.” 

“The wind can lock doors now?” 

You really had no arguments, huh? 

“Maybe.” 

“Stop...”, she whispered. “Come on, let me in? It’s cold.” 

You sighed and gave her space to enter you house. When you closed the door, the silence filled the room. Ellie took the backpack off her back and looked for something in one of the pockets. You watched in silence as she took a VHS film and showed it to you. 

“This is what I was telling you about...” 

“Who the fuck is Donnie Darko?”, you read the name. 

“I was hoping to find out.” 

Why did she had to look at you like that? 

“Well, I think Dina will love it.” 

“Dina? Why would I...”, she seemed confused for a moment, but then it hit her. “Wait, are you jealous of me and Dina?” 

Jealous. Was that the word? 

“Fuck, no!” 

“Oh, my fucking God, you’re jealous!” 

“No, I'm not!”, you could feel your cheeks burning right now. “Why would I be jealous of you two?” 

“I don’t know, maybe you have a thing for her...” 

“I do not have a thing for her.” 

“You have a thing for someone then?” 

Her confusion was making you dizzy. You sighed and sat on the couch of the living room. 

“Okay...”, she was still trying to absorb that information. She felt weird trying to picture you with someone else. “Who is it then?” 

“Shut up, I don’t wanna talk about it.” 

“I think we are already talking about it, so...”, she looked at you. “It’s okay. You can tell me, you know?” 

“No, I can’t.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I can’t lie to you, Ellie.” 

“But you don’t have to lie... right?”, she said, and you finally looked at her with tears in your eyes. “Oh...” 

You didn’t have to say anything, it was too obvious. You were in love with her. The tears started to roll down your cheeks, and you didn’t try to stop them. It was done, you couldn’t go back in time. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Ellie was staring at the floor. Her silence was terrifying to you. What if she never talks to you again? All your worries were soon replaced by confusion when she let out a laugh. 

“You know what’s funny?”, she smiled and looked at you. “I spent a week with this movie in my backpack, scared that if I invited you to watch it with me you would realize I was asking you on a date.” 

She left the VHS tape in the center table. 

“And I really spent hours yesterday talking to Dina, describing to her everything I feel when you’re around, asking her if it would be too bad if I really did ask you on a date.” 

The way you looked at her made her heart melt. It was almost as if you were begging for that to be true. 

“So, is that what this is?”, you pointed to the VHS tape. 

“I mean, if you’d like that, then I guess it is”, she looked down, trying to hide the tears in her eyes. 

You nodded and stood up. 

“I do like that.” 

She stepped your way, your faces closer than ever. “Okay, then it’s a date.” 

You gave her a shy smile and paid attention to every single detail of her. Eyes, nose, lips. 

“It’s a date”, you whispered before leaving a soft kiss on her lips. 

[finniestoncrane]

I have to ask 😔

Which of the Riddlers do you think would be into musk? OR OR how would they feel about their partner being into it????? Whatever works

Riddler Headcanons okey dokey hello i am the partner who would be snffing them all day like i was on a binge at a yankee candle shop lmaoooo this is just general musk, like any naturally occurring body smells, because i consider musk to encompass it all and not just balls u-u 💚 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: musk, scent kink, bodily fluids, piss but only briefly in arkham's section, period blood in dano's section

arkham

he fuckin loves musk. it's his favourite thing ever. smells in general just do it for him

like climbing the walls, desperate to inhale your pheromones, and it's far better if that goes both ways

he couldn't even narrow down his favourite smell, although obviously he'd choose bodily odours over anything else

would absolutely bottle up the scent of his partners pussy or dick or balls and huff it while he jerked off

he's burying his face between your ass cheeks and taking in a BIG deep breath whenever the opportunity presents itself

he enjoys the tangy scent of blood on skin (which is having a distinctly uncomfortable effect on his run-ins with batman...)

hell, he'll even force you to hold your piss in for way longer than you should just so you have a little accident and he can sniff that

and one thing he's particularly fond of is sweat, and how it smells different under your arms, on your neck, on your back

100% is likely to lay in bed after sex just enjoying the scent of cum and slick and arousal that lingers in the air once it's all over

dano

down on his knees begging for you to let him sniff you, let him taste you, please just let your body linger on his somehow

it's very much about the intimacy with him, so he would enjoy it more if he was sniffing you while you were sniffing him back

like two little puppies getting to know each other in a little mutually beneficial ritual

it makes him feel wanted, desired, and most importantly it makes him feel like he's known

especially when you start to smell him when you don't know he's there, sniffing the air for the familiar scent hidden in the shadows

when he finds you sleeping with his old, dirty clothes, holding them to you when you're in bed

his favourite smell, though, is definitely blood, and particularly yours (as long as you're not hurt unwillingly!)

and if you're someone who has periods, you'll find he can sense it on you before you even have symptoms like a bloodhound

it's so violent and carnal and natural but a little bit sinful and taboo, so it's perfect for him!!

twojar

it's not even so much a kink for this guy, more that it's something he needs

a partner's scent is never something he would turn his nose up at (i am so sorry lmao)

he enjoys someone's natural musk, the scent that just somehow exists on their skin

permeating from them like a part of their personality, as important as a smile or their voice

i mean, he is a big believer in pheromones etc. and that's part of the reason that he has so much cleavage on display usually

it lets any potential partners smell him better, makes him like a magnet for the people who vibe best with what he's got

and while he's not necessarily into any specific smells that he could really name off the top of his head

he does really enjoy the smell of sweat when he's fucking you, your bodies becoming one

and how the smell of your body amplifies the taste when he's kissing you or licking you or biting you or eating you

young justice

comfort, sexual, romantic, platonic, when he's happy or when he's sad, he is literally llooking for one thing

and that is to bury his face into his favourite person, their body, their hair, their chest, their neck

and then inhale like it's literally the source of his life, more important than oxygen

and you just know he's getting immediately hard and exhaling with a pathetic little whimper

it's not something he's though of all that much about in terms of kinks, but it is very romantic to him

to experience someone so close he can smell them, and to feel like someone wants to get that close to him in return

definitely can bring him to tears to have your smell close to him though, like when you've been sleeping in his bed

or when you've borrowed his jacket, and he can smell you on them once you're gone, so it's like you didn't really leavve

and he'd be so happy to have a partner who was into musk sexually, someone who would sniff his hair or his pits or his balls

just someone who would appreciate him completely and wholly, which is like, his biggest kink lmao

telltale

he likes the smell of sex, it's like a personal perfume that reminds him of a partner

it's not anything he goes wild for, but it's something he'd notice the longer he was with someone

that he can remember them by smell, can tell when they've walked into a room by the way he can sense them

the way just thinking about the musk of you both, sweating and rutting, can get him very excited

AND as someone with an ample ego (and a little bit of an inferiority complex going on underneath it all)

he does like to look and seem his best at all times, like can we say super stylish hoodie peepaw?

so if he's ever over-exerted himself and feels kind of sweaty, he'd appreciate a partner that still finds him alluring and irresistible

and despite feeling like you should be begging for him, he'd use scents to attract you or to please you, to get your attention

he'd start wearing fragrances that he knows you're more likely to lean in for another whiff of just to get you close to him

zero year

he hates his partner to smell like anything other than fresh powdered sugar strawberry donuts or strawberries

definitely a believer that pussies shouldn't smell or taste like anything beyond peaches

because he's an asshole who thinks his partners should be subserviant and perfect, they have to be good enough for him

he, however, is welcome to be as stinky as he wants because he's a hypocritical douchebag

something about how it's macho to smell like sweat, something else about chemicals and the laws of attraction

and more than likely some other bullshit he definitely learned from a loser pick-up artist

but when he's finally presented with a body, he's on his knees begging you to let him taste you or smell you

whining or the privilege of experiencing your body raw and natural, in the state it's in at that moment

because he's really just a pathetic little romantic at heart, who could get hard at the smell of his partner's chosen deoderant

and can you really complain about him when you're nuzzling into his sideburns and sniffing his neck?

gotham

he wouldn't have thought that musk or smells would be something he was particularly into

but of course he quickly realised that it's very sexy to get all sweaty and hot with a partner

as a neat and tidy boy, it means he's got an extra fun task afterwards of warding off the sex smell

he doesn't mind someone's natural scent, but he's big on fresh smells, like mint or cucumber or some light citrus

scents that make you delicious, good enough to eat, like a carefully prepared meal

if you're clean, then that gives him something to tarnish, to take your perfect self and dirty it

unfortunately, he can't make you smell perfect to him because his favourite smell is actually formaldehyde

and it would be... uncomfortable for that smell to arouse him. at least he thinks it would be. one side of him wuold argue differently

so unless you're willing to get a little bit freaky at the gcpd morgue then... eucalyptus and lemon zest candle by the bed it is!

btaa

musk at least pertaining to body odours is sort of whatever to him, but he is definitely into scents

it's important to him to smell as wonderful as he looks and feels. it gives a better impression of him, like a signature perfume

he's not at all bothered by a partner who is into musk though, as long as they're not too disappointed by his artificial scent

that magically lingers after a run in with batman where he's getting pummelled and then left in a holding cell for four hours

with a partner, he's definitely keen on a sweet smell so he can give them a sickly little petname

so honey bun, cookie, cinnamon bun, little berry, scents that conjure up those kinds of themes all work!!

he has a penchant for absolutely devouring you, so matching the smell to the taste would give him a kick

btas

he's not particularly into smells or scents or musk in a partner, but it's not something he's necessarily against

if he was pushed for an answer about his favourite smell in reference to a partner, he'd say it was their body, fresh

just out of a shower, not using anything perfumed to wash themselves

a natural scent that he can pick up when he kisses your neck, one that is unmistakably you

one that he thinks of when he misses you, that can give him a little boost when he's gone too many days at work without seeing you

he would enjoy having a partner who was into musk or scents though, the ego boost would be phenomenal

what do you mean, you enjoy him unfiltered and as he comes? of course you do! because he's perfect

i think he'd also be so delighted with the idea of you picking out an aftershave for him

putting that much thought into him would definitely persuade him to wear just the aftershave the next time he's got you alone

unburied

it's difficult for him, because while he would love his partner regardless of how they smelled

musk is just not something he is into in the slightest for so many reasons, mostly related to the trauma of being an arkham iinmate

he's a tidy and smart and well-dressed boy (when he's got access to his own wardrobe and a warm shower)

even when he's hiding from the law in unseemly hotel rooms, he's still dedicated to a daily shower and ironing his shirts

so eing cooped up in arkham with other people and limited shower time was a nightmare

everyone just openly sweating and bleeding and crying and masturbating and stinking

those smells will unfortunately never leave him, so he prefers things to have a mask of artificial delight

i apologise, my fellow grot-lovers, but he permanently smells like sweet vanilla with notes of burning leaves

[transmascaraa]

Guess what!! Time to do another personal rq!! WOHOOO!!!

(I love making your list longer anytime I have the smallest idea)

The reader went on to try and get a job - after getting declined time and time again they finally landed one! In theory the start was great, but they never got the training that was promised and was thrown to the hot water instantly, leading coworkers to start to hate them due to them not knowing what to do at all. Now, within 1 and a half months, the reader has had 7 panic attacks already, and feels like crying anytime they have to go - they have to endure it for at least two more weeks, but they find it hard to do without any sort of comfort or anything, and reader being reader, they didn't tell their partner - they were proud of them for getting a job, so why would they ruin that happiness by saying it's actually terrible? But out of 7 panic attacks, at least one had to be found out. The chances were too slim at this point, the more u cry the more you're likely to be found out. And now, the reader had a panic attack after their boss texted them another passive aggressive message regarding something they were meant to do, but again, no one told them that they were meant to do it, leading to more anger from the work environment.

If possible pls do my little guy my hamburger of the day Lyney!! 🫶 Other than that do whatever you'd like!! Hf!

multiple characters headcannons!

a shoulder to lean on.

characters: lyney, wanderer x gn!reader

author's note: so sorry this took kinda long but i hope you feel better soon :(( if you need anyone to talk to, or anyone to just listen, i'm here^^ either way, i hope you like this :)

♡ Lyney

-was VERY proud of you at first because you got that job

-he was literally the #1 person who was rooting for you. even if nobody else was, HE was.

-and he noticed a bit of a change but didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable or in any case, feel like he was overthinking things

-so instead he didn't interrupt.

-until he saw you having a panic attack.

-"love? where are you? love— [name]! w-what- what happened... shh.. breathe..... breathe in, breath out. c'mon, with me." he tried to help calm down your breathing first, he didn't want you passing out or something to it was the first thing that came to mind.

-you slowly listened and as soon as you could talk, he asked you what happened, to which to told him everything. about the job, about the training, the colleagues, and most importantly, unfortunately, your shitty boss.

-"oh, my dear... i'm so sorry to hear that.. why didn't you tell me?.. wait, ignore that stupid question, i won't ask you anything now.. here, let me hold you..." he held you just as you were as fragile as glass that might just break with a wrong move. so he held you.

-he rocked you back and forth. he told you that you're not alone. he kissed the top of your head.

-he won't let you feel alone. he won't let you be alone. he won't allow you to think you're alone.

-he'll confront your boss once you feel calmer. 'Father' will get involved but you don't need to know that.

-"i'll fight this batte with you, mon amour... no matter how long it takes.." with a kiss to your forehead.

-he needs you to know that he cares for you as much as he does for his siblings, and that his heart aches breaks for you.

-he wants you to understand that you can trust him, no matter who other people see him as. "fatui lyney", "greatest magician in all of teyvat" because to you, he's just "lyney"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

⑅ Wanderer

-was very happy for you once you got the job, but didn't show it too much.

-deep down he's proud of you so much.

-he realized that you act differently than you used to, and he tried to ask you about it, but you'd just shrug it off every time.

-you're not okay and he knows it but doesn't want to annoy you since he knows you hate it.

-but walking in on you having a panic attack was not something he had thought of, at all.

-he just slowly sat down next to you, trying to calm down your breathing and get you aware of your surroundings.

-"shh, let me hold your hand. breathe. slowly. i'm here. you're not alone. squeeze my hand if it makes you feel better. don't think about anything right now, focus on your breathing and me." his usual persona is gone now. he's serious.

-he WANTS to help you. he doesn't want to lose you like the rest. nahida had taught him many things because he's been there too.

-after you calm down a bit, he asks you what's wrong if you feel comfortable telling him.

-once you tell him, he feels his nonexistent heart ache for you. he wishes he could help you with a snap of his fingers. but he can only use his words.

-"i'll talk to you boss, don't worry, i'll tell him how much of a jerk he is, and how he should never breathe again— nevermind, do you need something? water, food, or something?" nobody knows about this side of him but when he shows it to you, you just know how much he actually cares.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

attempted to make lyney a bit longer for you

i hope you like it as much as me cuz i really like it

stay safe and healthy💗

| @keeyisbored | @mariaace <3 |

[cheezbites]

Chris McLean As Your Ex Pt.2

Part One

✎: My first time writing smut... I’m a proud smut-writing-virgin!!😭🙏

♡Summary: Chris being a man-whore, and Y/N meets the campers. (Ex!Chris x f!reader)

WARNINGS: Language, smut, minors skedaddle!!!, overstimulation. (???)

➽Tag List: (Thank y’all for the sweet comments, they motivated me a lot through this whole thing!!!) @11aplacesange11 @prayersgems @marsyay78 @blobthejellyfish @lemonsarentlemons

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

The silence that filled the air wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, despite the enigmatic history between you and Chris.

“Care to grab me a towel?” you asked with a sense of sarcasm visible in your tone. When you looked at Chris he was already staring. But not in a sexual way - (despite your soaked pyjamas being translucent and exposing your bare figure). And not in a spiteful way, either.

He didn’t answer for a while, as if he was possessed by you.

“Oh, I uh- yeah,” he walked out of the room in hopes of finding Chef to fetch a spare towel for you. As you stood up from the bathtub, water trickled down your frigid body. You dried your hair by squeezing it tightly in your grasp and twisting it.

This whole situation was absurd, hosting with your ex, having a panic attack and the rumours online. Most importantly; you got your cutest pyjamas soaked, bummer.

You plopped yourself up on the counter and aimlessly kicked your feet - when he re-entered the room, his demeanour was distant this time around.

“Chef’s not here, he’s making the campers breakfast.”

-

“Here,” he murmured, handing you a fresh towel, but not even making eye contact with you in the process.

“Thanks,” you said, drying yourself off. You then realised the way he was fleeing from even momentarily sparing you a glance. It all began to make sense now, you were technically naked.

“It’s not like it’s anything you haven’t seen before.” You chuckled, mildly nestling his face and turning it so he could look at you.

“I shouldn't be here…”

“Why, do I make you nervous?” You swiftly and delicately dried your hair, completely unaware of the effect your question had on him. You made him more than nervous, you made Chris McLean a total wreck. He felt uneasy and apprehensive at the mention of your name, or just by thinking about you. But seeing you in real life, living and breathing and all - it took every cell in his body to not fumble his words and tremble uncontrollably.

His palms began to sweat and he ran a hand through this dark, messy hair. Amidst searching for the perfect answer that would best resonate his cocky know-it-all personality.

“Let me tell tell you something, Chris.”

“Uh- sure thing.”

“You know…” you settled your towel on the counter, giving him your full attention.

“The fans think my show’s latest episodes are being faked now, y’know, the fights and all. They think that so I can hype up my expected appearance for TDI.”

“Yeah, I understand.” he placed his hands next to your thighs, on the edge of the countertop where you were sat. “It’s stupid, but they will come to their senses. I promise. You’d never stage your content, they would know.”

Whilst he had you pinned between his arms, something else was holding you down: the way he was looking at you. His eyes, which were once a source of irritation, now radiated an infatuation that left you breathless. It was as if he was seeing you for the first time, your heartbeat accelerated when you realized that maybe, just maybe, the flame of your old love still flickered, waiting to be reignited.

“Stop…” you muttered, still unable to take your eyes off of him.

“What?”

“You know what you’re doing, Chris.”

“Hm?” he cocked his head to the side in the slightest.

…


“Shut up and kiss me,” you leaned in without a second thought - you saw this coming from a mile away. The way he was there for you only once and gave you one ‘look’, then you’re already whipped.

“Don’t you hate me?” he questioned in the midst of kissing you.

“I know.”

He carried you to your bedroom, causing your arms to wrap around his neck for leisure. As you straddled him on your bed whilst his hands were placed on your hips. You gave him tender hickeys on his neck, and he lowly grunted in response to the pleasuring sensation whilst he stroked your hair.

“Make sure to cover them before filming.”

You tugged your pyjama shorts and underwear off then reflexively grinded on his boner. As your body arched into his lap, his hands were around your hips closely pulling you in. You were already so unbelievably wet for him, fortunately it could be disguised as remaining water from the bathtub.

“Please Y/N… ‘need to feel you,”

“You don’t deserve me yet, Chris.”

“Please, baby- please...” You couldn’t help feeling bad seeing him like this, being so desperate and needy from how pussy deprived he was. You had him begging for you - to be fair, you were getting a rise out of this. He was so hard it began hurting him.

A beam of thrill and gratification was visible in his eyes when you unbuckled his belt and pulled his boxers down, his dick practically sprung into the air and precum was trickling down his tip. You sank onto his cock and adjusted to the mild pain by rocking your hips back and forth.

As you rode him, low grunts and whimpers flew past his lips. He moderately bucked up his hips so you could take more of him.

“Fuck,” he erratically babbled obscenities and curses under his breath as he softly fondled your curls.

“Chris, ‘m close,” you grunted, digging your nails into his shirt. He used his hands to guide and support you as your legs progressively gave out. Without warning, his slick filled you to the brim and spewed extensively. It covered your abdomen, top and bed sheets.

After a few more thrusts, your world flashed before your eyes. Your cum pooled around his inner thigh, you felt your heartbeat pleasurably throbbing in your clit and your breathing was hot and heavy. But he wasn’t done with you yet, he wanted to make a mess out of you. His favourite part about the aftermath of fucking the sense out of you was the way you looked.

Your hair would be messy, partly obscuring your face, while streaks of mascara smudged your puffy eyelids, and you’d have slightly bloodshot teary eyes. Which is what you currently look like.

He cautiously repositioned you to the centre of the bed and manhandled you into doggy-style position. Upon feeling lightheaded, you were willing to be obedient. Your back was arched and your ass was in the air for him, you used your trembling arms to support your upper body.

His already soaked penis slid up and down your throbbing cunt - teasingly rubbing circles onto your clit. He repeated this motion a few more times, and without warning he thrusts into you, inciting a startled whine to escape your lips.

He shoved his dick deeper and deeper inside of you with every thrust. One of your hands was covering your mouth in an attempt to silence your audible moans and the other was digging your nails into the bedsheets for dear life.

“Ch-Chris, ‘can’t take...it,” you sobbed, unobtainably moving your other hand from your mouth to the bed. Sinking your nails into the soft fabric.

“You’re taking me so well, baby…”

His randy words triggered you to clench around his cock, eliciting a groan from him.

Your eyes twitched and rolled back from the overstimulation, When you think he’s about to stop he keeps going; yet more passionately and intensified.

He mercilessly rammed his dick into you and clutched onto your hips so he could manoeuvre you freely and ensure you don't fall.

A stream of tears ran down your eye, you couldn't take the constant pounding. You couldn't do anything else but brainlessly sputter whatever came to mind. Fortunately, no one else was there. If they had been, all they would have heard were your muffled cries, moans and whines.

“Please,” you pleaded through tearful eyes and a quivering voice, unsure what you were begging for. As you clasped onto the cum stained cloth below you.

“Ngh- Ch—..ris!”

He applied pressure onto your clit and rubbed continuous circles with his thumb, your knees felt wobbly - akin to a jelly consistency, and your arms went numb and they gave in, granting Chris easy access as your arch had increased tenfold.

“Baby, baby… ’m close,” you blurted, burying your head into your pillow.

The speed of the pounding leisurely died down,“Fuck,” Chris groaned as he released his load into you, heavily breathing and briefly staying put before pulling out.

Soon you followed, It felt like an otherworldly experience coming twice in such a short span of time. Your entire body felt excruciatingly numb, but at the same time; the sensation was vaguely rewarding.

You collapsed onto your bed face-flat, still drowsily breathing. Chris tugged your hair so he could look at your face and everything was unkept: from your messy hair to your tearful eyes. Just what he liked. He buckled up his jeans and abruptly left the room.

He fetched an oversized t-shirt and dressed you in it. As well as a soft and comfortable blanket for both of you. Draping it over your body, you couldn't help but smile as you snuggled up next to him on, the warmth of the blanket enveloping you both.

With an officious yet endearing tone, Chris asked, "Do you need anything else, love? Water, a snack, a pillow... anything?"

You held his hand that was placed on your waist, feeling content. "I'm okay, Chris. Just having you here is enough."

He chuckled softly and wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer. "Alright, if you change your mind, just let me know."

You closed your eyes, enjoying the comfort of the moment, knowing that even in the midst of your arguments and conflicts, there were these precious, sweet moments that made you appreciate each other's company.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

“Up close she looks even better… she’s so pulchritudinous.”

“Shut the fuck up, Harold. Nobody even knows what that means!”

“OMG, that's the girl on that one show that goes like, “Getting up close and personal with the icons!” and she's like suuuper famous!”

“How did Chris bag Y/N L/N? He’s a 4 on a good day.”

“Campers, settle down!!!” Chef yelled, silencing their overlapping chatter.

You warmly smiled at the campers, standing next to Chris on his podium. They were all situated around logs surrounding a toasty campfire. A majority of them were too busy ogling you in shock and astonishment, the rest were still in denial.

“Hello campers!” you greeted, a striking confidence was distinguishable in your voice.

“As most of you know already, my name is Y/N L/N. It’s a pleasure to meet you guys! I‘ve noticed some of you are big fans of my show, ‘Icons Unveiled’. Or you may know me from hosting previously, but for the next few weeks, I will be hosting Total Drama Island along with the great, famous Chris McLean!”

As you gave your speech, you had an unquestionable authority. They all patiently waited for you to finish speaking before they interjected with their own comments, you were humble at the same time. Two of the campers even broke down crying, one was a tall blonde with blue eyes and brown thigh-high heels, the other being a short brunette with pink leggings and a green shirt garnished with scouting badges.

“Is this a dream? Someone pinch me.”

“Okay, I hate Chris so much but her being here makes this SO much more better.”

“I can't breathe right now I’m about to die I think?! I’m starting to hear colours.”

Through all the ear-splitting reactions, a malicious set of eyes was set on you. Relentlessly shooting envious looks in your direction - a scrutiny that hoped looks could kill, and wishing you dead from simply glaring at you.

“That’s a really fun idea.” A silvery voice interjected, scowling her face at both you and Chris. You raised an eyebrow, bewildered at the sudden hostility.

“You’re going to be an outstanding hostess, right? Cue the applause, everybody.” The redundant remarks made everyone’s head turn to gape at her. She had straight blonde hair and striking blue eyes, she folded her arms over her tight red dress and crossed her legs, highlighting her crimson heels.

“Blainley, cut it out.” Chris enunciated, impatience lacing his words.

“I’m glad you can even remember my fucking name, so what? You just abandon as this season’s hostess for Y/N?! Fucking Y/N L/N? What does she have that I don't?”

“Uh, hope I'm not interrupting. But who is Bethany? I was never informed about a Betahny hosting, too…” You purposely fumbled her name to further enrage her and see how far you could escalate this situation, just for the hell of it.

“Is it 'cause she’s prettier, more famous? Or is she a better fuck than me?!”

The campers froze with their jaws resembling an ‘O’ shape, and then they raucously chattered about what was unfolding, but her final comment ticked you off. Who does this bitch think she is? You could tell she had no shame publicly announcing her ‘sex life’ on national TV and causing an unnecessary one-sided fight. But you ensured you would have fun toying with and antagonizing her.

“I never will or have fucked you, you’re mentally ill. Just sit down and behave. You’re a con-tes-tant now, know your lane.” Chris retorted curtly, agitatedly drumming his fingers on the podium’s surface.

“Go to hell, Chris. And you,” she aggressively pointed an accusing finger in your direction.

“You can join him in hell, slut.” she stormed off from the campfire, flipping the cameras off. She left everyone else feeling shocked, alarmed and astounded by the scene she put up.

Masterlist

A/N: This part was kinda short, MY DEAREST APOLOGIES FR. I wanted to do a double chapter but this was marinating in my drafts for too long, and I could NAWT decide what to do for part 3. So as soon as I do I’ll get to writing it ASAP😔🤞. Next part will be a juicy double chapter I promise

[kakujis]

PIBBY OMG OK

Bookshop AU with Yone

You working in a bookstore is so magical to him. He starts coming in with his laptop and headphones to work on his music stuff but he keeps sneaking glances at you while you're rearranging the books on the shelves. He'll even talk to you about your favourite books occasionally

THROW IN SECRET ADMIRER omg he gifts you books he thinks you'll like but won't tell you they're from him so you'll be talking to him about this admirer and he's internally screaming bc IT'S HIM

hi wallaby!! i'm finally writing this cus i'm soooo enamored w him... but u are so right. this au is so cute. i can't believe i just wrote this in one sitting LOL, i'm going to lose it!!!!!!

wc: 684

warnings: gn!reader, mutual pining, mutual shyness. fluff. not proofread. reminder i'm an 18+ blog, likes and rbs are fine, but don't follow if under 18.♡ :>

yone loves a routine. but more importantly, he loves it away from heartsteel. don't get him wrong, he enjoys his bandmates, chaos and all, but sometimes he just needs a quiet place to work. imagine his delight when he stumbles across your bookstore, a quaint place tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the city.

you are ever-present, ever comforting, and always there to lend an ear when he asks, "hey, sorry to bother, but do you think this sample is alright?" he notes your expressions, scrutinizing each piece to make sure you have something meaningful to say.

in return, he'll ask you about your favorite books, your recommendations and if you're working on anything yourself. it's an exchange of creativity that he craves, even in the early hours of the morning when you've just opened up shop and the sun is peeking slightly over the horizon.

the first time you pad over, holding a new book in hand, expression puzzled, he can't stop the light flutter of his heart, it's wings beating like a butterfly searching for a drink.

"look at this new book i got," you chime, handing him over the heavy hard-cover series, "have you read it?"

he'll shake his head, tucking a piece of hair behind his ear to fake getting a better look, before replying, "nope. any idea who it's from?"

you do the same, but spread a wide smile on your face. "honestly, i'm flattered. i didn't think anyone paid attention to me like that. they should spend more time looking at you."

"it's the red hair isn't it?" he jokes back and you'll giggle, a sound that's prettier than the chime of the bell on the top of your door.

the weeks continue on, the look of delight on your face a welcoming sight every time he comes in. he listens intently when you ramble about your admirer, the newest book you got, and more importantly, how it makes you feel.

he decides to step his game up, adding in little trinkets and confectionary with each book drop off. he thinks you have no clue, in fact, he's so confident you don't that he even starts leaving handwritten notes within them. but you are no fool, there's no one else you've ever spoken to about the intricacies of your own heart. no one else knows which stories captivate you the most. only yone.

"another book i see," he hums, taking a sip from his coffee and missing the glint in your eye when he asks. "still no clue who it's from right?"

"y'know," you say, taking a seat across from him. "actually, i think i have a little bit of an idea."

"oh... really?" he answers, trying his best to maintain eye-contact.

you nod again, "mhm." a small, yet shy smile on painted on your features, but you also struggle to make eye-contact, the sudden weight of your confession looming over you.

there's an uncomfortable silence that drapes over the two of you, or at least, yone thinks there is. he opens his mouth to apologize, so clear that he's been caught, but you cut him off.

"or actually, maybe, i know nothing at all." you say, quickly getting up and gathering up your things. maybe you'd like things to stay like this for a while, it's comfortable and cozy. "sorry about that."

"huh? oh no, don't-"

"would you like to go on a date sometime?" you interrupt again, clammy hands holding the book up to your chest.

for a moment, yone just stares at you. knowing that if things goes well, ezreal and kayn are definitely not letting him live this down. he can hear them now, exclaiming, "what do you mean you were too scared to ask them out on a date?! so uncool yone."

he also knows that letting you in means that you'll get hounded by them too, but you'll deal with it when you get there... if you get there. and yone decides that he's okay with that.

"sure," he grins, taking one of your hands in his. "i'd love to."

[uldren-sov]

shared secrets

another lil @infamous-if fic because i can't stop even if i wanted to. little bit of background for ms. rodriguez-rose but done in a more "current" time Hope you like! ~2.5k words Seven Lawless is canon and not mine but Camy Rose is :)

✩

The gentle rocking of the tour bus driving down the highway should be comforting, especially at – Camy looks across her notebook in her lap and turns her cell’s screen on – 1:14 AM, but all she can think about now is how fucked she’d be if she got motion sick. What if she was just nauseous this whole time? What if she was so sick she was unable to write songs? What if being sick kept her up all night instead of all these new people with their loud breathing and snoring? Maybe if she was, she would be so exhausted that she wouldn’t care about how Kieran (she thinks) snores louder when he sleeps on one side than the other. Maybe she wouldn’t care about hearing the indiscernible whispers between Seven and Avina in their bunk. 

Maybe she wouldn’t be fucking haunted by hearing Seven asleep and remembering how they had once fit together so comfortably on the most uncomfortable mattress... She fought hard to forget it these past years, but flashes of how fingertips felt along along her spine come back to her now when cradling her pillow can’t settle her enough to sleep, and during nights like these when her mind is just too active to let her body rest.

She stares blindly at her most recent page of half-finished lyrics and sketched notes as her mind’s tires spin in the mud, churning out all these unhelpful anxieties as she uselessly urges her brain to take advantage of this time to herself. Usually as the last one to fall asleep and top 3 of the earliest to wake up, it means she has plenty of alone time even among a crowd of 11 (including Chuck the driver). In those late nights and early mornings, she finds it easier to break through her own bullshit, her defensive ego and caked on charm, and just dare to be vulnerable again. Dare to write again. 

When the words come. 

Sometimes they just don’t. Like tonight where her brain would apparently like to think of literally anything else than sentences with meaning, ending in a word that can rhyme. Still, she’s not about to waste a night when she could be working on something, practicing, getting better. She has to, she must, she can’t stop. Sleep is not an option, lyrics are not an option, so she’ll work on her only other option - a way to improve without bothering anyone.

Slipping her notebook under her pillow and shimmying on some exercise pants she untucks the oversized Soft Violence band shirt – flipped inside out for everyone’s sake – from the waist band and carefully unzips the curtain of her bunk. She steps into the stale, frigid, air and quickly assesses her surroundings. Most of the curtains are closed, those that don’t have it cracked open for the AC, but most importantly everyone seems to be asleep. A sigh of relief as she works her neck and shoulders out after being hunched over her notebook for so long. Nothing about the tour bus is ideal but no one can say that she won’t make the most out of a bad situation. 

She snatches her laptop and headphones from the far corner of her bunk and gives another cursory look around. No one stirs, no curtain opens, no one peeks their head out telling her to go the hell to sleep, but she swears she hears some music from one of the bunks closest to her. Maybe it’s August? Either way, she’s safe enough to continue as she ducks down to where her carry-ons are stashed. She finds the handle of her guitar case and gathers it up along with the rest. 

It’s not uncommon that she would bring her guitar with her, despite not playing guitar in the band anymore. She uses the excuse that it helps imagine the song better and lets Rowan take the lead on the rest. The reality though is one of the few secrets she keeps from her band but it’s definitely not the biggest sacrifice she’s done for their sake. Not by half. It still might be the biggest lie that she keeps from them.

She tiptoes and carefully parts the beaded screen that separates the “bedroom” and the living area. Maneuvering around the space she sets up as close to the front as she can to make sure she won’t wake anyone. Laptop set up in front of her, she’s at least able to keep the curtain in her peripheral as she settles her PRS over her criss-crossed legs, and sets up the rest. Avoiding the red guitar pick with the single casino-style number on it and fishing out one of the dozen others, she tentatively starts picking along her electric guitar. Soft plinking of the metal strings are barely heard over the ambient sound from the bus, but even so, she glares at the curtain, bracing for someone to come out and catch her. 

What fans don’t know, and what she thinks even her band has forgotten, was that Camy was a guitar player long before she was ever a singer. Singing was something that she kept to herself until what felt like the last second. Even then, up until high school graduation, she was lead guitar and a secondary/co-vocals until they started making their own music. But as inevitable as erosion, she phased out of that guitarist role. It was better for the band, it was better for their sound, they told her she was a better singer than guitarist anyways – that one still stings even after all this time – and it was best for Rowan. More than any other reason, she made the change for him. She decided to just pull the pin and give into that eventuality one late night, like this one, to a sympathetic Seven who comforted her for her subtle sacrifice. Stepping out of Rowan’s spotlight, she quickly shifted to rhythm guitar, to only vocals, to lead singer. The audience for her late night playing dwindled to one, up until about three years ago. 

Now, she plays in secret to sharpen herself, she plays to develop melodies she’ll only later hum in rehearsal, and she plays for desperate nights like this. Now, she stares at the curtain for just a little while longer and sighs when she seems to be in the clear. 

Brushing her hair back she slips her headphones on and the strap of her guitar over her shoulder. A bit of warm-up, a bit of practice – a bit of tuning, to be honest – a bit of maintenance, and she begins to play. Slow improvisation finds a melody from the chaos of her mind, a song, a feeling, coalescing in cohesive notes resonating from her headphones. The effect is immediate, like her brain is sighing in relief as notes fall into rhythm, fall into order, fall into something that sounds like music. A quiet contentment and pride settles around her like a blanket hearing her improvement as well, a confirmation that she’s not only her songwriting.  

2:28 AM. She rests for a moment, stretching out her hands as she takes a break. She should sleep. She shouldn’t take a stab at the latest, hardest, solo she’s been practicing off an on for a while now. She should just relax, for once. She shouldn’t cut into her sleep schedule any more than she already does. 

It doesn’t take long before she’s nodding her head in time with the track she has loaded up and the metronome that helps her keep the beat. The notes fly under her fingertips and she allows herself a smile at her progress. She’s a long way from really nailing such a complicated solo, but damn if she isn’t getting there.  And damn if it isn’t fun to learn – even with all the frustration involved with learning it.

Something whispers in the back of her mind as her skin pricks with awareness. In her peripheral there’s a shape looming, framed in the threshold of the living area. For a brief moment she wonders who looks weirder: her, hunched over her colorful guitar with the laptop’s screen blaring light into her face or the person standing there, menacingly, in shadow in front of that ridiculous beaded screen.

Ripping the headphones off her ears she wraps her arm around her guitar like she’s trying to hide it before she straightens in realization. Seven stares at her, stares through her, half highlighted in moonlight half shrouded by the night. The weight in his look is as inscrutable as the rest of him. She’s not sure how long he’s been there – why is he even here? – but if she was going to be caught by anyone, she decides he’s actually not the worst choice. Since the start of the competition, Seven has calmed down a bit, just a bit, and thankfully she can’t see any of that heat she’s come to expect. Yet. 

“Sorry if I woke you,” she whispers. 

“You didn’t.” He shakes his head and yet she can almost taste the lie. She glances past him for any more movement but finding none, she finds his dark green eyes in the gloam. As impossible as he is to read, something about how he regards her now has her breath catching. “Didn’t know you still played.” 

“Technically, I don’t,” she says, shifting uncomfortably as she closes the lid to her laptop. “Remember?” Which is always a risk to say to him now. He seems to hate everything about their shared past, the good and the bad. He shifts in place before wandering closer to lean against the opposite side of the sofa. Tucking his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, he glares out the window as the conflict in his mind already begins to show in the furrow in his brow. She chews on her lip, taking in the way his hoodie is zipped up enough to be respectful yet low enough for her to know he’s shirtless underneath. She has to rip her gaze away before she starts lingering too long on how good he looks when he actually just rolls out of bed and not only when he styles himself like he did. 

She tempers herself with a slow exhale, reminding herself that his opening performance was a song all about how much he hates her, with a performance tailored to aggravate her jealousy, both of which took advantage of her latest confession. Admitting her nightmare to the ghost of love’s past himself, was a fucking stupid move, she'll admit now. Confessing how she was still not over him, no matter how brutally honest it was, blew up in her face - but how could it not? In response, he could not be more clear about the hurt he wanted to inflict or the line he cut in the sand between them.

She wishes she hated him the way that he hated her. 

“With your band,” he says and she catches how he nearly winces at that, “changing up your sound, it’d make sense for you to play.” He shrugs, looking away from her as soon as she looks up to him. She replies with a sigh, pulling the strap off her shoulder and starting to pack her things up. 

“Everything that had me stop before hasn’t changed. All those old reasons. So, as far as they know, I don't anymore. Simple as that, ” she says. Admitting anything to him feels like a risk now, ammunition for him to use as a competitor but – who else can she talk to about this? She’s not one to share, not one to be vulnerable – not anymore – but there’s just still something about Seven that makes her feel … safe. Safe enough to share. He can and has hurt her in ways he knows no one else can, but he’s never shared her secrets. 

That she knows of. Which is a caution she never thought she’d have to guard herself against. Fool me once...

“Why?” She asks.

“Why what?”

“Why do you care?” 

“I don’t,” he snaps. But sighs tightly as he shifts again, their eyes meeting now as slowly that flare of his anger ebbs. “Just, surprised, I guess. If there would ever be a time for you to show off your playing again, it’d be now.” Something warms in her chest as she reads between the lines. 

“Are you sure that I’m even good anymore? Who knows, I might suck now,” she sets her guitar aside and folds her arms over the back of her seat, perching her chin on her arms as she stares up at him. He snorts and she fights a smile off her lips. It’s dangerous how easy it is to let her guard down around him.

“You’re practicing some kind of wild song in the middle of the night? I doubt you decayed down to, like, Smoke on the Water levels,” he says with a scoff that sounds suspiciously like a laugh. 

“You could tell it was a wild song?” 

“I didn’t hear any notes or anything but the amount of shredding you played was pretty wild,” he admits and she can’t help but chuckle in response. Warmth blooms through her chest and into her fingertips with the thought that he was watching her and with some level of appreciation.

“I mean, I guess you can say that. But it’s really just Randy Rhoads kicking my ass,” she grins and his face lights up with a smile that makes her heart slam against her rib-cage.

At least until both of them snap up to stare at each other in realization of what was happening. 

She drops her head and clears her throat. “But it’s late,” she checks the time – 3:22 AM – and she rolls her lips as she finishes packing up her things. “Big day of hanging out in a bus tomorrow. Probably should get back to bed.” She ventures as she avoids looking at him until her guitar case is zipped closed. Standing in a rush she almost stumbles back from crashing into him. A second of her heart clenching in her chest until it stills, a second of being closer than they’ve been in years, a second of having flashbacks of dozens, of hundreds, of late nights with her playing in their living room and him coaxing her back to sleep, before he scrambles back and puts some space to breathe between them. 

“Right, uh huh,” Seven replies, tugging his hood over his head and jerking the rest of the zipper up his hoodie. “Yep.”

“Sorry that I woke you up, though,” she says suddenly, gently. Bracing into himself now, he glowers at her for a moment before pulling away further. A couple of steps later, a safe distance away, maybe, and he turns back to her. 

“It’s fine. It’s not like it was loud, I just-” he stops himself as he seems to fall into himself for a moment. “Know what it sounds like and-” She cocks her head in confusion as he glances up to her now, almost panicked as he jerks his thumb over his shoulder. “Come back to bed.” She arches an eyebrow, jaw dropping a little before he scowls deeper, “I mean go to sleep!” And with that he’s quick to retreat through the curtain once more as she’s left breathless, ambushed, and, in a strange way, comforted by the gesture. 

As she quietly follows after, she carefully puts her things away and slips silently back into her bunk. Despite the lingering heavy beat of her heart, she curls around her pillow now realizing that while her practice quieted her mind, there was a warmth in the familiarity of their exchange that soothed her as well. 

Sleep takes her before the warning against such a sentiment takes hold.

[ratrrriot]

Dear anon: i fucked up and instead of saving this ask to my drafts, i accidentally posted it halfway through writing my answer and then impulsively deleted it. So now i'll have to answer to this screenshot and ask you to pretend its the real thing ,ok? Thank you for the ask and sorry!!! i'm really hoping you'll see this long ass answer🙏

I actually talked about this idea once on twitter but YES, I do think Shadow would certainly have a reaction when seeing Sonic act all brother-ly towards Tails. Especially because i like to think seeing them could trigger some real -not previously manipulated by Gerald- memories of him and Maria. However,rather than jealousy,i believe he would be emotionally confused and have mixed feelings about this.

Note: This is complete headcanon talk, so don't take this as an analysis of who Shadow,sonic,tails and Maria are in canon! Its fanon interpretation

Don't get me wrong. Do i think he was bitter at first,knowing they had what was taken from him? yes, absolutely,but do i think that could fuel his hostility towards Sonic? not really ,Because i don't think that Sonic & Tails reminded him of his own sibling when they first met, mainly because i don't think Shadow remembered Maria was a sister-figure to him until he started recovering his real memories (cuz i doubt Gerald knew they tought of eachother as siblings when he put the fake memories in him),Plus i don't think he noticed how truly brother-ly the bond between those two was until he got to meet them better,which i believe must have happened after a few games anyways. I believe that S & T's relationship reminds him of his and Maria's now.

I think that more than the angry, hurt person he used to be,he is now just a really broken one who's trying to somewhat fix his relationship with the world and his own existence. So while i agree he must have been bitter about this issue at the beggining,i don't think it was the most prevalent feeling this situation caused him.

I believe that in the present -emphasis on present time cuz we all know he hated him with a passion at the beggining- He's mean to Sonic because their egos clash and he doesn't like his attitude (they kinda make the worst side of eachother come out lol) ,but its clear he actually respects him when it comes to their shared values. Their competitivity seems to be a consequence of his superiority complex and more of a source of entertainment to him than anything else. So I think that when Shadow sees how good of a brother Sonic is to Tails,he can't really hate him for it or say that "he doesn't know what he has",cause he knows he is seeing someone who actually knows exactly how precious the bond they have is. Someone who wouldn't hesitate to give his life to protect his little brother, someone who feels inspired by the support and presence of their sibling. Someone like Maria. (At least the Maria from my headcanons;;). The reminder of Maria's absence is always painful and enfuriating ,sure,but more importantly, i think seeing Sonic like that would make him uncomfortable,because the fact that his rival,someone who he used to hate and has fought so many times, can suddenly have SO MUCH in common with the one person who mattered the most to him,is incredibly confusing. Even weirder is the fact that in this situation,the one who's taking his place is Tails. TAILS of all people!!

And that brings A LOT of questions!!! Especially because these could be clues to what kind of people Maria and Shadow used to be,something very important to him and that he has lots of trouble remembering. Like,when Shad was a younger brother too ,was he anything like Tails? and if Tails wasn't born by Sonic's side and instead was found by him...Could Shadow maybe find someone like Maria out there and form a familiar bond again? Did Maria treat him just as Sonic treats Tails? Could Maria have even more things in common with Sonic and Shadow just doesn't remember???

My guy is NOT ready to answer any of these questions (he might be recovering the missing pieces of his broken memory and healing a bit but he still has a long way to go before he can be anything close to emotionally stable) and i'm not sure if he'd like the answers anyways. Plus,at least in my headcanons,his real memories of Maria might bring him joy and nostalgia but also tons of frustration,not just because he can't remember her at will,but also cause he gets the impression that Maria was hiding a lot of sadness and he doesn't remember why.(I imagine she tried to not bother Shad with the weight of her emotions),nor if he could help her in any way.

At the end of the day,Shadow's backstory and the reasons for his creation are the source of his trauma ,And wether he likes it or not,Maria is one of the main parts of all of that. So sometimes he doesn't know if he wants to move on from her or keep dwelling on the past,which is why i believe being reminded of her always brings him comfort ,but also emotional exhaustion ...

And In this case,he is too exhausted to be jealous of Sonic and Tails for having what he has lost.

ANYWAYS. That's just my opinion on the matter,If you think seeing Sonic and Tail's brotherhood would fuel Shadow's hatred,i think that's valid, especially cause at the end of the day it depends on how you'd think Shadow deals with his baggage,and there can be many interpretations for that.

Again,Thanks for the ask!

[cookinguptales]

Related to the meta I wrote last time...

So there was this abandoned plot line from the episode with all the wives where one of Nandor's guy wives kept asking Guillermo questions about himself and that made Nandor uncomfortable so he had the Djinn poof him and like -- god, there's a lot to unpack there. Like, when I tell you that I've thought about that for months.

Now... there are a lot of different things I could say about this. And frankly speaking, I still might. But for now, what I really want to get into is this odd tendency I've noticed in Nandor to view his wives almost as extensions of himself. In fact, I'd go so far as to say that this might be how he conceptualizes the difference between husbands and wives -- it's not a gender thing; it's a situation of ownership.

I'm not saying that Nandor is fully awful about this. He doesn't seem to believe that his wives literally belong to him or that he can tell them all what to do, like marriages of that time often would have been. But he does seem to see them as extensions of himself. They may not physically belong to him, but they are still his.

Like, he still expects these wives to be fully loyal to him. He still expects them to dote on him and guess what he wants and be pretty much exactly what he needs them to be. Their actions (and what people think of them) seem to be things that he believes reflect on him. Their actions are his actions, their beliefs are his beliefs, their wants are his wants -- and vice-versa.

We see this very literally becoming an issue with Marwa. He so fully transformed her into an extension of himself and his desires that she fully lost herself as a human being -- and that's even before he straight-up turned her into someone else.

So one of his wives being very interested in Guillermo does seem like something that would be very disturbing to him on a number of levels. First and foremost, there's the obvious annoyance that one of his wives would be interested in anyone but him. (We see him get upset with his others wives for this.) But then, you know, there's the fact that it's Guillermo specifically.

There's this discomfort with someone treating Guillermo as desirable and important, obviously, as it makes Nandor face the fact that Guillermo is desirable and important -- and that he hasn't treated him that way. There's also the discomfort with the fact that anyone else would get to know more about Guillermo's personal life than he does. But more than that, I think Nandor feels discomfort even acknowledging that Guillermo has a personal life outside of Nandor for people to ask questions about.

Nandor is very weird and possessive about Guillermo's personal life.

On top of all that, though, we have the fact that it is an extension of Nandor who is asking these questions. There's the inherent betrayal of part of him going to someone else, but more importantly -- I mean, it's very similar to what happened with Marwa at the wedding. A piece of him is very interested in Guillermo, and maybe that's going to make him confront the fact that he is very interested in Guillermo if he doesn't put it down immediately.

Because the thing is -- he does this to Guillermo, too. He very explicitly says that someone insulting Guillermo's honor is insulting his honor. He very explicitly claims Guillermo as his own and very purposefully monopolizes all his time and effort. He claims Guillermo's abilities, too, and uses them as he sees fit. He even physically manhandles Guillermo's body for his own needs. (See: using Guillermo's wrist, not just his watch, as his own in 4.09.) He has clearly always seen Guillermo as an extension of himself the same way he does his wives, and some of the shock of s3-s4 for him is realizing that Guillermo is his own person.

I think that's why we see him prodding at Guillermo and asking questions and watching him and testing him in s3. I think that's why he sounds bitter about not knowing anything about Guillermo's family or any of the things that he does in s4. I think it's why, when he is confronted with this person that Guillermo loves, this last small part of Guillermo that Nandor has not managed to possess, it makes him want to claim it for his own.

Nandor is wildly possessive over Guillermo in the same way he is his wives, but Guillermo is no longer happy simply with being possessed. There are parts of Guillermo (like his family, like the vampire hunting, like Freddie) that Nandor is slowly realizing he does not have access to, and he doesn't like that. Guillermo is really coming into himself, is becoming strong and recalcitrant and independent and uncontrollable, and Nandor isn't really sure how he feels about that.

Because here's the kicker: Nandor is totally fucking horny for people he can't control.

When you look at his love interests we've seen that he's been most into, it's always people that he cannot control. Gail, who he can never manage to rein in, who he can never quite manage to claim. She uses him casually and then she leaves, and she always has control in the relationship. Meg is a lesbian, totally uninterested in him, and he has no control over her, either. Jan is a complete power reversal, and one that Nandor seemed particularly thrilled with. She owns him and he likes it.

The point I am coming to here is that Guillermo is really starting to resemble these women that Nandor has run after -- and I think Nandor is starting to come to the realization that Guillermo is not an extension of himself, like his wives were. Guillermo is his own person. And maybe what Nandor really wants is to be the subservient one in this situation. He doesn't want Guillermo to become one of his wives; he wants Guillermo to become his husband.

Nandor wants to be Guillermo's guy wife.

We see him start to lean into this role reversal in s3-s4. Submitting to Guillermo's physical strength and leadership when they go after the Sire. Caring for him after an injury in 4.01. Going full role reversal and literally serving Guillermo in 4.05. Having Guillermo try on his groom's clothing in 4.06. Like... the man's not being subtle here.

He's still struggling with these ideas, clearly, but they're for sure there. And I think it's part of why Freddie ended up becoming such a clusterfuck. Nandor was still sort of seeing Guillermo as an extension of himself and wanted to claim all parts of him, especially the parts that Guillermo had thus far kept hidden from him. I don't think it's a coincidence that Nandor mostly just wanted to eat Freddie until the moment he realized he was there for Guillermo. Then he followed them around like a weirdo until Guillermo admitted Freddie was his boyfriend -- and then Nandor wanted him.

But as much as he was seeing Guillermo as an extension of himself, he was also seeing Freddie as an extension of Guillermo. And like Nandor's guy wife and Marwa showing interest in Guillermo and that being a direct representation of Nandor showing interest in Guillermo, Nandor going sappy over Guillermo's extension is another way that Nandor is indirectly showing his true feelings for Guillermo.

And so much of 4.09 was Nandor realizing that Guillermo wasn't his. He is not an extension of Nandor. Nandor can't have access to every part of him. He has to let Guillermo have some things that are just his. He has to relinquish control over him.

Put bluntly, 4.09 was really about Nandor having to decide whether he cared more about Guillermo being 100% his or Guillermo being happy. And I guess we know which one he chose.

I think even Guillermo understood on some level that Nandor was mostly just upset that Guillermo had a single goddamn thing that Nandor didn't have access to. That's essentially what he accused Nandor of, wasn't it? Not letting him have this one fucking thing for himself. Even he seemed to understand that Nandor's new crush was more about Guillermo than it was about Freddie -- even if I'm not sure he quite made the jump to understanding why.

So... by the end of s4, Nandor has gotten rid of his wife. She had become so much of a very literal extension of him that he was sickened by it, so he destroyed her. (RIP Marwa, you were a real one.) He had also gotten rid of the extension of Guillermo that he had claimed. And, this might be the most important part, he'd gotten rid of some of that internal idea that Guillermo was an extension of him. In letting Freddie 2 go, he was in some ways letting Guillermo go as well.

Now if only Guillermo actually wanted to be let go... :')

Up until this point, I think Guillermo also thought of himself as an extension of Nandor -- and it wasn't until their planned trip went up in flames that he was able to start conceiving of himself as his own person. He started trying to create this life outside of Nandor. And while that life was short-lived (and I don't think could ever last forever), it did give him enough independence that by the end of s4, as Nandor has given up on Guillermo being his extension, so has Guillermo.

And he decides to take the life that he now owns himself into his own two hands.

Do I think the two of them are going to be less codependent going forward? I don't think so, and honestly I certainly hope not. But I do think the shape of their relationship is definitely going to change.

Hopefully for the better...

[kylelovskii]

hiii!! lately i've been OBSESSED with mysterion x villain! reader...

could you pls pls pleaaase write smth idk headcanons ANYTHING 😭😭😭 it can be fluff, smut, even a little angst w comfort if you want, whatever comes to your mind !! thank uuu <3

of course!! i’m so so happy you requested! 💗💗

ahh i love mysterion, he’s awesome. 😎😎

i’ll give you a quick oneshot! i don’t know if this is angst or just something random, but i hope you like it! :3

why don’t you show me?

mysterion x villian! reader

he didn’t know how he got there, tied to a chair, on top of one of south park’s many buildings.

once he opened his eyes and his vision became clear, he lifted his head to see you standing in front of him, arms crossed and a shit eating grin on your face.

“hi, mysterion,” you giggled.

“what the hell is this?” he demanded, tugging at the zip ties that kept his wrists together behind him. you only giggled again, swiftly putting your hands behind your back. you sashayed closer to him and leaned down, getting in his face.

“remember our last encounter? remember how i said i’d find out who you were sooner or later?” you quoted. “yeah?” he answered, now feeling just a little nervous. were you really going to go through with that? he thought you said that just to scare him.

you placed a hand on his cheek, “well, time to make my wildest dreams come true, kenny,” and with that, you took said hand and yanked off his mask.

kenny couldn’t say anything, he stared at you, his identity, somehow, revealed to you. how crazy were you? how could you have found out his name? with all these questions bubbling in his head, he heard your signature giggle.

“you’re prettier than i thought you’d be,” you smiled, your gloved hands ran through kenny’s hair. “what-…what’s that supposed to mean?” he stuttered. “exactly what you think it means.”

just because you were a villain didn’t mean you couldn’t have feelings. let alone feelings for a hero. kenny was so…different from everyone. he helped everyone. he wasn’t like cartman, and more importantly, he wasn’t like you. but, while that was nice, and while that’s why you liked him in the first place, that was also the problem. he wasn’t like you. you couldn’t stop being the way you were just for one person

“cmon, kenny. why don’t you join me?” you offered. treating yourself to a seat on his lap, you wrapped your arms around his neck and listed the many reasons he should turn to you. “i know all about you, ken. i know you can’t die, and i know your friends never seem to remember. but that’s the thing..i remember.”

“what the fuck are you talking about? how do you know all this shit?” he urged. “i know you, kenny. i follow you you around, i follow you home. i see you kill yourself, and then i see you in your bed the next morning. and while i watch, i also remember. i am what you’re friends aren’t. i care when your friends don’t. hell, they can’t even remember something so serious. even if it happens right in front of their dumb faces,” you babbled.

that’s when you grabbed his face with both hands, bringing it closer to yours. “i love you, kenny. i know you. i remember you. be with me,” you begged. then kenny realized.

you were being truthful. how could you know all this if you couldn’t remember? there was just no logic in it. you loved him so much, you remembered. thinking about it made him give in.

“fine.”

“oh, kenny. you really aren’t like anyone else,” you sighed, pressing your lips to his. this kiss was like no other to kenny. it felt meaningful. it didn’t feel like some hook up. it felt real.

you pulled away, love stricken. “i’ll untie you,” you whispered, getting up from his lap and going to crouch down behind him. you took out a small pocket knife and cut the plastic, freeing his hands.

kenny got up from the highly uncomfortable chair and looked at you as you rose back up. you waltzed over to him, taking his hand and leading him to the edge of the building. many cars passed, people left restaurants, families chattered on the sidewalk.

“if you really wanna be with me, why don’t you pull out your gun and show me?”