#its the cutting herself off abruptly with the

[lepidopteragirl]

this is honq this this this is honq this is the vision

#its the hesitant voice the fear the hard won trust completely gone #the desperation to understand what he lost and he's a little bit bitter and snotty and its so ALIEN that kind of cruelty #the scared tentative question and all of it spilling out at once without thinking #its the cutting herself off abruptly with the #the sudden reminder of EVERYTHING she lost at once and the (perhaps reasonable) fear of how vulnerable shes making herself #without even thinking about it #the fear of how much she tried not to let the love in and the second she did its hurting its hurting so much #buts it there you let it in and its stubborn as your hands are rough #and you're angry and frustrated and HURT #and you want to give up you wish with everything that you could #but theres going to be another day #Youtube

[ellecdc]

Can i request something bit angsty? 🥺 its totally fine if you dont wanna write it tho!

I was thinking, wolfstar x reader got into an argument and reader started to occlude and the boys got scared they might be out of line bcs she only occlude when shes really hurting?

this is my SHIT - love me some hurt/comfort. thanks for requesting, lovie 🫶

poly!wolfstar x fem!readerCW: hurt/comfort, arguing, mention of past family discourse, toxic family memories

“I’m sorry. You did what?” Sirius beseeched, walking into the living room from the kitchen and interrupting the points (arguments) you and Remus were each in the process of making. You gave him an unimpressed look, knowing he wasn’t actually asking you to repeat yourself, he just couldn’t believe what he had heard.

“She gave Mary-Ella over a grand.” Remus muttered bitterly.

“I did not give Mary-Ella money, I loaned her money.” You were quick to correct.

Sirius just scoffed. “Sure you did, dollface.” He sneered, making his usual pet-name burn to the touch. “You are never going to see that money again.”

“What were you thinking?” Remus implored.

“I was thinking that my friend was in a bind and needed help. I hardly think that’s a crime.” 

“You didn’t just loan a little bit of money, though. You loaned a lot of money to a friend who is not reliable in the slightest.” Remus asserted.

“We have been working so hard trying to save up to move. To move closer to Diagon Alley so that Remus can be closer to work, and we can finally get out of my uncles flat.” Sirius added.

“I know we’ve been working hard, Sirius. I know this because I too have been working hard. But I’m not going to watch my friend struggle when there’s something I could do to help!”

“This choice impacted all of us. You had no right to make this decision on your own.”

It was your turn to scoff as you turned to glare at Remus incredulously. You had been trying to stay patient, knowing that this close to the moon, Remus was feeling extra sensitive. But him ganging-up on you with Sirius quickly found what little patience you had running thin. “I 'had no right' to make a decision about money that I made on my own?”

“You have no ground to stand on, buttercup. You’re now out more than a grand because of this choice; we’re all out more than a grand because of your choice.” Sirius growled, tone full of derision.

“If the roles were reversed, Mary-Ella would help me out!” You tried to reason, only for Remus to bark a laugh.

“That doesn’t even matter, dove. Because you’d never be in her position and likewise, she’d never be in yours. She’s irresponsible, unreliable, and a mooch.”

You tried to ignore the burning sensation in your sinuses as you spoke to the back of Remus’ head; he apparently had grown so disgusted with you that he couldn’t even look at you anymore. 

“I don’t like you talking about my friends like that. I don’t understand why we’re making such a big deal about this, I jus-” but you were cut off as Remus stood abruptly and turned on you. 

“We’re making this a big deal because it is a big deal!” he bellowed. “You leave this apartment in the morning and it’s like Sirius and I don’t exist anymore. You conduct yourself like some single woman with no responsibility to anyone else but herself.”

“You’re being selfish. You can’t possibly expect to drop a bomb on us like this and, what, expect us to just reply with ‘yes dear’? You fucked up, Y/N.” Sirius added, arms crossed defensively over his chest and cold silver eyes glared daggers that permeated your entire being. Remus carried on, unperturbed by the effects this conversation was having on you.

You felt like you were seventeen again, like you were eleven, nine, six. You felt like a babe whose hand had been slapped for reasons beyond your comprehension.

Do you ever stop and think about the consequences, Y/N?

You were sitting at the dining room table as your father lashed you with his words, each sentence punctuated with the slamming of his fists on the table. You were standing on the platform having just reunited with your parents after the school year as your mother’s claws dug into your arms, warning you that punishment was to come later if you didn’t smarten up. You were cowering in the backyard as your father screamed at you in front of the entire neighbourhood – a free show for all to enjoy. 

You think crying will earn you any sympathy here? You’re a manipulative little witch if you think that will work on me. Keep crying and I’ll give you something to cry about. 

You felt naked – like your figurative clothes had been violently ripped from your body – and there you stood, stripped bare for all to leer at. Standing before two people...who were meant to love you unconditionally...as they laced their words with venom and spat vitriol at you.

You couldn’t even hear the point Remus was trying to make anymore. It didn’t matter anyway.

He hated you. You were hated. You were a disappointment, a burden, unwanted.

But you couldn’t cry – could never cry. You’d just be manipulating them. You were deceitful. Emotions were deceitful. The way you felt was wrong. And they were right.

Always right. 

So, you did what you always did; you made it quiet. 

You began layering rows of stones around your being. Protection. Space. Distance. Safety.

They couldn’t hurt you from all the way in here, not from the other side of your wall. You’d be safe here. Here in the quiet.

It was safe in the quiet. 

Sirius felt disgraceful at how long it took him to notice the signs of you pulling away from the conversation. Away from them. Away from him.

Remus – always more sensitive than the two of you when it came to the likes of money, combined with feeling extra flustered with the upcoming full moon – had no reason to expect nor recognize signs of occlusion. 

Suddenly, Sirius was fourteen again. Walburga was standing over him with her wand aimed at his chest, but all he could see was Regulus. He had prayed at the time that his brother could hear him begging in his mind:

Turn it off, Reg. Just turn it off. It can’t hurt you if you turn it off. 

Sirius himself sat in an almost constant state of occlusion during his fifth year, knowing somewhere deep in his gut that the beginning of the end of his life as the heir of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black (or the end of his life in general) was near. 

Growing up wasn’t a whole lot easier for you, it seemed. And he knew that when things got to be too much, you did what you needed to do to protect yourself.

He suddenly hated himself. You weren’t supposed to need to protect yourself from him and Remus. It was their job to protect you; just like you always protected them. 

How you protected Remus from wasting away on the days leading up to and recovering from the full moon. You never let him go hungry or thirsty, you always made sure the space was clean and tidy, and you never let him fall into his typical pre- and post-moon self-loathing.

And you protected Sirius from himself; from saying things that he wouldn’t be able to take back, from being the worst version of himself, from losing you and Remus completely. 

He didn’t deserve you.

You didn’t deserve this.

For fuck’s sake all you had been doing was being kind.

Being a good friend, someone that others could rely on, protecting people who meant so much to you. 

All you were doing was being your kind, courteous, protective, generous self that Remus and Sirius had fallen in love with from the very start.

“Moony!” Sirius pleaded, causing the lycanthrope to pause in his tangent. You didn’t even flinch at the sudden change in the atmosphere as Remus looked at Sirius bewilderedly. 

“We’ve lost her.” Sirius murmured quietly, causing Remus to spin to observe you. 

“Well...” Remus began, still struggling to shake off his anger and the need to argue. “But I-”

“It’s enough, Remus.” Sirius hissed quietly, staring at Remus with a look he hoped conveyed no nonsense.

He apparently succeeded as Remus let out whatever breath he’d been holding as he turned again to face you.

“Dove, I’m sorry.” Remus whispered as he tried to move towards you, but you instinctively took a step back to maintain the distance between you; your arms wrapped around your middle protectively as if that was all that was holding you together. 

Sirius’ heart felt like it split in two – and based off of the look on Remus’ face, he wasn’t fairing any better.

“Y/N?” Sirius tried. You didn’t turn to look at him, but you hummed in quasi-acknowledgement.

“Can you look at me?” He tried quietly, but you shook your head no. 

Remus made a pained sound as he tried to move towards you again, ducking his head down in an attempt to make eye contact with you. You didn’t back away from him this time, but your arms tightened in their hold around your middle.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry I...I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I’m...I was out of line.”

“Come back?” Sirius pleaded. “Please.”

You took a deep breath and turned your face towards your boyfriends, but Sirius could tell your eyes were still foggy – you were still hiding.

“We won’t talk about it anymore. That conversation is done.” Sirius said.

“But-” you started, voice grating from the tightness in your throat, but he cut you off.

“The conversation is done. You did what you thought was right, you were being your kind lovely self, helping your friend when they needed you. We shouldn’t have yelled at you, sweets. I’m sorry.”

Remus made another pained sound and moved closer to you again.

“Dovey, I’m so sorry. Please, can I- would you like a hug?”

Sirius watched as you looked at Remus, seeming to weigh your options before you nodded once at him. Remus needn’t any more invitation and quickly (though gently) made for you, enveloping you in his arms. 

The three of you stayed like that – Remus with his arms around you, you with your arms around yourself and your face pushed into his chest, and Sirius standing helplessly at the side – before Sirius started to notice some tension leaving your shoulders.

“Why’d you go?” He asked you quietly, gently placing a hand in the middle of your shoulder blades and rubbing in a way he hoped was soothing.

“I didn’t want to cry.” You admitted into Remus’ chest, neither boy missing how tight your voice seemed to be, even as your voice barely raised above a whisper. 

“Oh, dolly. Just cry. Cry, okay? Make us feel like tossers, but don’t leave.” Sirius said.

“I didn’t want you to feel bad.” You muttered wetly, finally turning so Sirius could see your red and wet face. 

“But we deserved it. Oh, my love.” Remus cooed as he all but picked you up and locked your legs around his hips, forcing you to move your grip from around yourself to around him.

“I’m not s’posed to make you cry. I’m s’posed to make you smile.” He muttered pitifully, pressing his lips into your hair.

“And cum.” Sirius spoke in the same pitiful tone, brushing a strand of hair from your forehead.

You laughed wetly and the last of your occlusion appeared to slip away which was what Sirius had been aiming for. It didn’t make him feel all that much better though.

“Oh, my girl. I’m so sorry, Pads is right. You were just being your lovely self, and I’m a bastard.”

Sirius watched as your brows furrowed. “You’re not a bastard.”

“No,” Sirius agreed readily, “he was just being a bastard. Both of us were. Do you think you can forgive us?”

You nodded quickly but Remus tsked in response.

“Don’t let us off so easily, dovey. Make us pay for it. What do you need? Do you need a foot rub? You want cake? Ice cream? What about a kitten? You’ve always wanted a kitten.”

You had been shaking your head at everything Remus said until the last one, your curiosity obviously piqued.

Fuckin’ hells, Sirius thought, if she gets a kitten everytime one of us acts like an arse, we’re going to be overrun with cats by next month. 

#poly!wolfstar #poly!wolfstar x reader #poly!wolfstar x you #wolfstar x you #wolfstar x reader #wolfstar #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #self insert #reader insert #ask elle #marauders fanfiction #hurt/comfort #ellecdc fics

[butterfly-lies-chase-them-away]

Bunny - Health Ledger!Joker x Fem!Reader

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

Word Count: 17,654

Warnings: murder, Joker, robbing banks, minor age gap, implied stalking, technically breaking and entering

Summary: !!Request!! All Y/n wanted was to deposit money into her bank account, but what happens when the bank she arrives at gets robbed by the Joker? And what happens when she catches his eye? (Part Two)

A/N: This was a request from the lovely @Evergreenbellaaaz I hope you enjoy this one as I love the Joker so much, like I would die for this man. Joker is a bit OOC, but he's a bastard, so what can you do? And I did not mean to pop off like this, but here we are! I wrote so much more than I was supposed to but when the words flow, they flow~ I hope you enjoy this, thank you for the request my dear, and love you all 💚

-

The bustling streets of Gotham seemed to close in on Y/n as she walked with purpose, her steps echoing the persistent beat of her anxious heart. Her fingers clutched the small envelope containing a substantial sum of cash, the weight of responsibility bearing down on her. She repeated the words she had rehearsed countless times under her breath, a mantra to calm her nerves.

"I would like to deposit some cash into my account, please," she whispered to herself for what felt like the hundredth time. The crowded cityscape provided an indifferent backdrop to her internal struggle.

The decision to go on this seemingly simple journey, a mere 30-minute trip to the bank, had transformed into a two-week-long ordeal of procrastination. Y/n, who usually had her parents help with mundane chores like this, now found herself standing in front of Gotham City bank. The money she had saved over the past year burned a hole in her pocket, a tangible reminder that it was time to step into the realm of adulthood.

As she approached the imposing facade of the bank, its polished exterior seemed to mock her insecurities. The daunting prospect of facing the unfamiliar banking procedures left Y/n grappling with a sense of unease. Yet, she pressed on, her internal resolve battling against the knots tightening in her stomach.

Entering the turnstile door of the bank, Y/n hesitated at the threshold, momentarily overwhelmed by the sterile environment and the rhythmic hum of conversations. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the task at hand.

Getting in line, her voice still a quiet whisper as she practised, "I would like to deposit some cash into my account, please."

"Next!" The call from the person at the counter pierced through the ambient hum of the bank. 

Determination etched across her features, Y/n navigated through the maze of anxiety, reaching the counter with a mix of apprehension and resolve. She placed her trembling hands on the smooth surface of the counter.

The bank employee, a woman with a practiced smile, looked up from her paperwork. "Hi, how can I help you today?" she inquired, her gaze meeting Y/n's with professional courtesy.

"I-I..Um.." Y/n stuttered, feeling the weight of her own vulnerability. The words she had rehearsed so diligently seemed to evaporate in the heat of the moment. "Can I put my cash in my account?" she finally managed to articulate, her voice betraying a hint of nervousness.

The heat radiating from her neck intensified, the physical manifestation of her anxiety. Despite her efforts, Y/n couldn't escape the self-imposed judgment. After all the practice and mental preparation, she berated herself for stumbling over such a simple request. The bank employee, however, maintained a neutral expression, accustomed to the occasional nervousness of customers.

"Could I get your name and acc-" The woman at the counter was abruptly cut off by the jarring eruption of loud shouts, disrupting the calm atmosphere of the bank.

Y/n's gaze darted towards the source of the commotion, her heart pounding anew as an unforeseen disturbance unfolded, shattering the mundane routine of the day.

A sudden jolt reverberated through the once-calm bank as the turnstile doors spun, revealing an ominous group of men adorned in clown masks. In their hands, they held large guns.

"Get on the ground!" The command was barked, the harsh echo of gunshots accompanying the directive.

Panic erupted, and the bank's atmosphere plunged into disarray. A cacophony of terrified screams reverberated through the air as patrons and employees alike scrambled to obey, dropping to the ground in a chaotic symphony of fear.

Y/n's heart raced at an alarming pace, the sound of her own pulse competing with the pandemonium around her. Legs weakened by a cocktail of adrenaline and terror gave way, making it effortless for her to sink to the cold floor. Huddled against the counter, she sought refuge in the shadows, her trembling form attempting to blend into the background of the unfolding nightmare.

Through the ominous procession of masked invaders, a figure with an unmistakable presence emerged. A man with a face painted in ghastly hues, wild green hair framing his grinning visage, and a purple coat that billowed as he walked. It was a theatrical entrance that left no room for doubt, the Joker had arrived.

The room fell silent, a collective breath held as the Joker's calculating gaze swept across the terrified hostages. His painted face, a canvas for chaos, twisted into a grotesque yellow smile. In that unsettling moment, the Joker had seized control of the bank, turning a routine day into an unforeseen dance with the anarchic force that was the clown prince of crime.

The Joker surveyed the terrified hostages with manic glee. His eyes gleamed with delight as he strolled through the bank, his henchmen maintaining a menacing presence at his side. The air crackled with an unpredictable energy, the tension escalating with each step he took.

"Greetings, my fine friends!" the Joker declared, his voice resonating with a twisted mirth that sent chills down the spines of the hostages.

He paused dramatically, allowing the weight of his presence to settle upon the captive audience. "I hope you're all having a splendid day! I know I am!"

He gestured to the chaos around him, as if orchestrating a chaotic symphony. The hostages, cowering on the ground, exchanged fearful glances as the Joker continued his morbidly cheerful monologue. "You see, life is just a series of unexpected events. One moment, you're withdrawing cash, and the next, you're starring in a show you never signed up for!"

A twisted grin etched across his face as he revelled in the discomfort of his captives. "But fear not, my dear friends! The Joker is here to add a splash of color to your dull lives! And what's life without a little chaos, eh?"

The Joker's eyes scanned the crowd, and then, as if drawn by an invisible force, they locked onto Y/n. The corners of his mouth curled into a wicked grin. The Joker's voice cut through the tense silence, a raspy symphony of madness that sent shivers down the spines of everyone in the bank. His unnerving smile widened as he surveyed the captivated audience.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" he mused, his words dripping with malicious amusement.

His eyes, obscured by the chaos-inducing makeup, seemed to fixate on Y/n huddled near the counter. "A little bunny who wandered into my little party. What's your name, darling?"

Y/n's throat tightened, fear and uncertainty mingling within her. She stammered, "Y-Y/n," the words barely audible over the palpable tension in the air.

"Y/n!" the Joker exclaimed, drawing out each syllable as if savoring it. "Such a lovely name for such a lovely surprise! Welcome to the show!" He chuckled, the sound echoing like eerie music in the confines of the bank.

The atmosphere within the bank was suffocating, thick with fear and tension. The masked henchmen moved with ruthless efficiency, pointing their guns at helpless hostages and demanding compliance as they forcefully filled bags with money. The metallic scent of panic lingered in the air, and the dissonance of terrified sobs mingled with the Joker's maniacal laughter.

Yet, in the midst of the chaotic tableau, the Joker's focus remained fixated on Y/n. His eyes, obscured by the painted mask, bore into her with an unsettling intensity that sent shivers down her spine. The manic energy surrounding him seemed to warp the very air, making the atmosphere oppressive and surreal.

The Joker's henchmen continued their menacing work, but the Joker himself stepped closer to Y/n, the unnerving smile on his face never wavering. It was as if the rest of the bank faded away, leaving only the two of them locked in a macabre dance.

"Y/n," he purred, his voice a dark melody against the backdrop of chaos. "You're a breath of fresh air in this dreary city. I can't help but feel a certain... connection between us. Don't you?"

Y/n's heart pounded in her chest, the gravity of the situation intensified by the Joker's unwavering attention. The menacing environment and the Joker's unpredictable nature created a concoction of fear that gripped her, making her acutely aware that, in the midst of this criminal spectacle, she had become an unwitting focal point in the Joker's deranged performance.

The menacing henchmen continued to patrol the terrified hostages, their eyes devoid of empathy. The Joker, however, maintained an unsettling focus on Y/n, as if sensing a peculiar energy in the air.

"Now, my dear Y/n, since you're the guest of honor, how about you do something special for me?"

Y/n's eyes widened with trepidation, her mind racing to comprehend the surreal situation. The Joker's unpredictable nature made every second feel like an eternity.

"I-I don't... I don't know what to do," she stammered, her voice barely reaching the Joker's ears.

He threw back his head in laughter, the sinister sound reverberating through the bank. "Oh, darling, that's the beauty of it! Surprise me! Dance a little, sing a song, or maybe tell me a joke. I do love a good joke!"

Caught between the threat of violence and the Joker's eccentric demands, Y/n felt the weight of an impossible choice. Little did she know, her unassuming visit to the bank had transformed into an unexpected performance in the Joker's twisted carnival of chaos. The Joker, seemingly unbothered by her hesitation, circled Y/n like a predatory cat closing in on its prey. 

"No worries, darling. Sometimes silence speaks louder than words," he mused, his voice carrying an unsettling blend of whimsy and menace.

Y/n, caught in the crosshairs of the Joker's peculiar attention, remained frozen, her anxiety immobilizing her like a deer in headlights. However, the Joker, never one to let an opportunity for chaos slip away, decided to take matters into his own hands.

With an abrupt motion, the Joker twirled Y/n around to face him. "Since you're not in the mood for words, how about a dance?" he suggested, a maniacal glint in his eyes.

Without waiting for a response, he began to move, his own twisted rhythm guiding Y/n's hesitant steps. Everyone in the bank now bore witness to a macabre dance between the Clown Prince of Crime and an unwilling participant. Y/n stumbled through the grotesque waltz, her movements a stark contrast to the Joker's fluid, unpredictable motions.

The masked henchmen paused in their looting, their attention momentarily diverted to the unexpected spectacle. The Joker's laughter blended with the discordant echoes of the bank, turning the once-sterile environment into a nightmarish stage for an impromptu performance orchestrated by Gotham's most infamous criminal.

Within the chaotic vortex of the bank, Y/n felt the grip of anxiety tightening around her like an invisible vice. Her chest constricted with each strained breath, and her pulse echoed loudly in her ears, a relentless drumbeat of fear. The oppressive weight of the Joker's attention bore down on her, intensifying the already overwhelming sense of vulnerability.

As the Joker's manic laughter reverberated through the bank, it echoed in Y/n's mind, amplifying her sense of powerlessness. Her thoughts became a cacophony of self-doubt and fear, drowning out any rational response she might summon. 

Her mind, usually a refuge, had become a battleground of conflicting emotions, where anxiety and terror waged a relentless war against any semblance of control. In that moment, Y/n found herself caught between the stark contrast of the Joker's madness and her own silent struggle with the debilitating grip of social anxiety.

The Joker's gloved hand, cool and unsettlingly steady, closed around Y/n's arm like a vice. The touch sent a shiver down her spine, the contrast between his cold grasp and the warmth of her own fear-ridden skin intensifying the surreal nature of the encounter. His fingers, adorned in faded purple gloves, curled possessively around her.

The wad of cash in an envelope, her hard-earned savings, nestled uncomfortably in the pocket of her coat. The crinkling sound it made served as a cruel reminder of the mundane purpose that had led her to this twisted encounter with Gotham's Clown Prince of Crime.

“What’s this bunny?” the Joker whispered, reaching into her pocket.

In a swift motion, the Joker took the envelope from Y/n's pocket. The Joker's painted eyes lingered on the crumpled envelope, a twisted fascination dancing within their depths. His gloved fingers traced the edges of the paper, feeling the texture of the cash hidden within. The manic grin on his face widened, a malevolent satisfaction painting his features with an unsettling glow.

"Well, well, well," he mused, his voice a sinister purr. "Looks like we've got a bit of money here. What were you planning to do with all this pretty money, hmm?" His tone, mocking and playful, cut through the air, adding another layer of discomfort to Y/n's already fraught nerves.

The Joker's eyes, still fixed on the cash, momentarily flickered up to meet Y/n's terrified gaze.

"You know, pretty thing, money makes the world go round, buT chaos... chaos gives it that extra spin," he declared, his words carrying a perverse wisdom.

With an unexpected gentleness, he placed the crumpled envelope back into Y/n's trembling hands.

"There you go, darling," he sneered, his voice dripping with faux courtesy.

"You're pretty, and you get to keep your money. Consider it a gift from the Clown Prince of Crime himself!" The Joker's laughter, sharp and discordant, echoed through the bank, leaving Y/n to grapple with the bizarre reality that she had been granted reprieve in the midst of the madman's carnival.

The Joker abruptly stopped dancing, releasing Y/n with a dramatic flourish. As the eerie music of chaos continued to play in the background, Y/n, drained and disoriented, stumbled and fell to the unforgiving floor. The Joker, seemingly disinterested, began to saunter away, his vibrant purple coat trailing behind him.

Y/n watched the Joker's retreating figure, a mix of fear and confusion etched across her face. His manic laughter echoed through the bank as he distanced himself, leaving her in the wake of the strange encounter.

Just when Y/n began to believe the nightmare might be over, the Joker, in a surprising turn, paused and turned back to her.

"On second thought," he said, his painted eyes fixated on her as if reconsidering something. 

With a swift movement, he approached his henchmen, and Y/n's breath caught, fearing he might grab a weapon.

To her bewilderment, however, the Joker reached into the bag of ill-gotten gains and pulled out a handful of cash. He approached Y/n with a malevolent smirk, crouching down beside her, holding the money out before her like an offering.

"Treat yourself," he quipped, the words dripping with a macabre generosity. "Buy you something pretty, bunny," His yellowing teeth flashed in a grin that sent a chill down Y/n's spine.

Y/n hesitated, glancing at the proffered money, her mind reeling from the bizarre twists of the encounter. The Joker, seemingly satisfied with his whimsical act of kindness, stood up again and walked out of the bank, leaving Y/n alone on the cold floor amidst the remnants of his chaotic performance.

The minutes that followed felt like a surreal blur to Y/n. The bank continued to echo with the disjointed sounds of the robbery, the erratic footsteps of the henchmen, the muffled cries of hostages, and the lingering aura of fear that permeated the air.

As she struggled to regain her bearings, the presence of law enforcement gradually became apparent. Sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder with each passing moment. Uniformed police officers, their expressions a mix of urgency and determination, streamed into the bank, ushering bewildered hostages towards the exit.

Y/n, still seated on the floor, felt a gentle hand on her shoulder, the touch snapping her back to a hazy reality. A police officer, their voice calm and reassuring, urged her to stand and guided her towards the exit. Her movements were mechanical, her mind a foggy labyrinth of emotions.

The daylight outside the bank entrance felt harsh against her dilated pupils. As Y/n emerged, she blinked, trying to return to the real world after what she had just experienced. The police ushered her to safety along with the other hostages.

As they moved away from the scene, Y/n instinctively slipped her hand into her pocket, the touch of cold, crumpled paper grounding her in the midst of confusion. Fingers tracing the contours of the secret wad of cash, she was jolted back to the disconcerting reality of the encounter. The bills felt real, tangible, serving as an unsettling reminder that the Joker had indeed been there and given her some sick kind of special attention.

The police officer continued to speak words of reassurance, but Y/n's attention remained fixated on the unexpected gift nestled in her pocket. The cash became a tangible link to the bizarre dance with madness, a connection to the maniacal clown who had momentarily disrupted her ordinary world.

As they moved further away from the bank, the distant wails of sirens and the controlled urgency of emergency personnel gradually replaced the dissonance of the robbery. Y/n's gaze remained distant, her mind grappling with the unnerving realization that, in the pocket of her jeans, she held a token of the surreal encounter that would continue to haunt her thoughts for days to come.

-

The revelation of the secret wad of cash tucked away in her pocket served as a haunting memento of the surreal encounter with the Joker. Y/n couldn't shake the eerie feeling that the crumpled bills held a weight beyond their monetary value.

To her muted surprise, the Gotham City police remained oblivious to the extra bit of money concealed in her pocket. Y/n, having seen the police's shortcomings on the news, didn't expect them to figure out what happened after the Joker's bank robbery.

Yet Y/n hesitated to use the money. She knew better than to tempt fate by using the illegal bills into her routine transactions. The very nature of the Joker's strange generosity hinted at potential consequences, and Y/n, despite her limited understanding of the intricacies of money, sensed the looming risk associated with its dubious origins.

Her reluctance to touch the Joker's gift stemmed not only from the fear of being caught but also from an inherent understanding of her own luck, or lack thereof. The dodgy bills, like a ticking time bomb, held the potential to unravel her ordinary life in a city that seemed to thrive on chaos.

Surviving the close encounter with the Joker left Y/n in a state of disbelief. The fact that she had danced with the Clown Prince of Crime and emerged unscathed defied all logic. The disconcerting notion that countless eyes had likely observed the bizarre spectacle haunted her thoughts, yet she felt a sense of relief that the aftermath of the incident remained shrouded in a peculiar silence.

As the days passed, Y/n couldn't shake the lingering shadows of the encounter, each quiet moment a reminder that the Joker's presence had brushed against the edges of her reality. 

-

A week had slipped by since the bank incident, a span of time that, thankfully, saw no follow up from the police. However, the absence of police activity also meant the unsettling reality that the Joker remained on the loose, and the thought haunted the edges of Y/n's consciousness. She fervently prayed that she would never find herself entangled in such a dangerous situation again.

On this particular late Thursday night, Y/n found herself navigating the dimly lit streets of Gotham. The late hours found her consumed by a craving for lollies, the lengthy study session still lingering in her mind. With the hood of her jacket up, she set off towards the nearby dairy, nestled conveniently around the corner from her university dormitory.

To her dismay, the familiar glow of the store's neon sign was conspicuously absent as she arrived at her destination. The store, known for it’s convenience, stood shuttered and silent. Faced with the closed doors, she felt a pang of embarrassment at the thought of returning empty-handed to her dormitory.

Refusing to let disappointment deter her, Y/n forged ahead. With a sigh, she continued down the street, her mind racing to recall the location of the next closest dairy. Though her steps were fueled by determination, a flicker of unease danced at the edges of her awareness, a lingering reminder of the precarious nature of life in Gotham.

Y/n's unease proved to be justified as she approached a group of men ahead. Despite her attempts to keep a low profile by bowing her head and hoping to pass by unnoticed, fate had different plans for her that night. As she drew nearer to the group, one of the men stepped forward, blocking her path with an unsettling certainty.

"Hey there, girly. What brings you out at this hour?" the man taunted, his words backed-up by the laughter of his companions.

A wave of numbness washed over Y/n, her instincts screaming at her to flee. Yet, as she tried to navigate around the imposing figure before her, he moved deliberately in front of her, effectively halting her progress.

"Whoa, hold on now. Where do you think you're going?" the man demanded, his voice laced with a menacing edge.

Desperation clawed at Y/n's throat as she pleaded for them to leave her be, her voice barely more than a whisper as she continued to avoid meeting their gaze.

"Please, just let me pass," she whispered, her heart hammering in her chest.

But her pleas fell on deaf ears. In a cruel twist of fate, one of the men reached out and tugged at her hoodie, exposing her to their scrutinizing stares. As Y/n lifted her gaze, her heart plummeted at the realization that she was now surrounded by five intimidating figures, their intentions unclear and her sense of safety shattered.

Y/n's heart leaped into her throat as one of the men reached into her pocket, extracting her wallet with a disregard for her privacy. "How much cash have we got here?" the man asked, his voice dripping with malicious intent.

With a sinking feeling, Y/n watched helplessly as a couple of the men gathered around, peering into her wallet with a grim curiosity. In that moment, instinct overrode reason, and Y/n's survival instincts kicked into high gear.

Without a second thought, Y/n bolted, her adrenaline-fueled flight propelling her past the looming figures that had moments ago surrounded her. She knew she was leaving her wallet behind, but in that split second decision, the preservation of her life outweighed any material possession.

As the men's shouts echoed behind her, Y/n's heart raced with a frantic rhythm, her feet pounding against the pavement in a desperate bid for escape. With every stride, she pushed herself harder, her mind a whirlwind of fear and determination.

In the darkness of the night, Y/n's gaze darted around, searching for a path to safety. Spotting an alleyway ahead, she made a split-second decision and veered off course, her feet carrying her into the murky depths of the narrow passage.

Though rational thought whispered warnings against running into the unknown, Y/n pressed on, her singular focus on outpacing her pursuers. With each step, the alleyway seemed to stretch endlessly before her.

Glancing over her shoulder, Y/n's heart sank as she realized the men were gaining on her with each passing moment. Y/n berated herself for the inevitable mishap as her foot caught on a discarded piece of rubbish, sending her crashing to the ground in a painful heap.

A scream tore from her lips as she tumbled to the unforgiving pavement, her hands and knees absorbing the most of the impact. Pain lanced through her body, tears welling in her eyes from a potent mixture of fear and agony. With trembling hands, she turned herself around, still on the ground, her gaze darting frantically to the looming figures that now stood before her.

But to her astonishment, the men's attention wavered, their cruel sneers faltering as their gaze shifted to something behind her. Confusion clouded Y/n's mind as she turned to follow their line of sight, her eyes widening in disbelief at the sight that greeted her.

Approaching from the shadows was another figure, one whose presence exuded a chilling aura of authority and menace. Y/n's breath caught in her throat as she watched the men scramble in terror, their boldness crumbling in the face of this new threat.

“A-ta-ta..” The scarred man's voice was a low, ominous growl as he continued his relentless advance, a gun trained on the men before him.

Y/n's heart pounded in her chest as the figure emerged into the dim light of the alleyway. It was the Joker, his painted visage twisted into a malevolent grin as he surveyed the scene before him.

“Drop the wallet,” the Joker demanded, his voice a cold command that brooked no argument.

With trembling hands, the man holding Y/n's wallet complied, the leather hitting the ground with a dull thud. “Now empty your pockets,” the Joker commanded once more, his gaze piercing through the darkness with an intensity that sent shivers down Y/n's spine.

The men, cowed by the Joker's presence, complied with his demands, the sound of coins and notes hitting the ground echoing through the alleyway. The Joker's eyes lingered on the scattered loot for a moment before he turned his attention back to the trembling figures before him.

A single shot rang out, reverberating through the alleyway with a deafening roar. Y/n's heart leaped into her throat, but to her relief, the bullet was aimed just past the men, a warning shot that sent them scrambling in a desperate bid for escape.

As the men fled into the shadows, Y/n watched in awe as the Joker stood victorious, his enigmatic presence commanding the darkness. In that moment, she couldn't help but feel a strange mixture of fear and gratitude toward the sinister figure who had intervened on her behalf.

Y/n's breath hitched as she watched the Joker step around her like a predatory cat, his movements unsettling. The sight of him crouched to retrieve the scattered money from the ground sent a shiver down her spine. She knew she couldn't afford to linger, the threat of her own demise looming like a dark cloud overhead.

Summoning every ounce of strength, Y/n pushed herself up from the ground, her body protesting with each movement. Pain flared through her limbs from the impact of the fall, but the urgency of the situation drowned out her discomfort.

"Where do you think you're off to, bunny?" the Joker's gravelly voice sliced through the air, sending a jolt of fear coursing through Y/n's veins.

She froze, her gaze locked on the Joker's figure as he deposited the money into her wallet. The mere sight of him instilled a primal fear in her, his unpredictability casting a long shadow over her trembling form.

The Joker's piercing gaze bore into her, demanding her attention. "I asked you a question," he repeated, his tone laced with a dangerous edge.

"M-my dorm," Y/n stammered, her voice barely more than a whisper.

The Joker's scarred lips curved into a sinister grin, his eyes gleaming with an unsettling intensity. "Without your wallet?" he inquired, his voice dripping with mock concern.

Y/n's heart raced as she struggled to find an answer, her mind racing with the implications of the Joker's words. In that moment, she realized that escaping the Joker's clutches might prove to be an even greater challenge than evading the men who had mugged her.

The Joker held her wallet up, a wicked gleam dancing in his eyes as he toyed with her. With trembling hands, Y/n reached out for the wallet, her fingers hovering uncertainly in the air. But before she could grasp it, the Joker's iron grip closed around her wrist, pulling her closer with a sudden, startling force.

A strangled cry escaped Y/n's lips as she was yanked towards the Joker, her mind immediately jumping to the worst possible scenarios.

"Is my little bunny hurt?" the Joker's voice rang out, his tone deceptively gentle as he inspected her injured palm.

Y/n's breath caught in her throat as the Joker's cold fingers traced the raw scrapes and bruises marring her skin, the gritty residue of stones and dirt clinging to the wounds. The contact sent a shiver down her spine, her fear magnified by the intimate proximity of their encounter.

The realization dawned on Y/n that she was utterly vulnerable, alone with the Clown Prince of Crime in the dim recesses of the alley. The terror that had gripped her at the bank now intensified tenfold, every instinct screaming at her to flee.

Yet, to her astonishment, the Joker's demeanor shifted unexpectedly. He tucked her wallet into his own pocket, much to Y/n's dismay. But instead of furthering her despair, he shrugged off his coat.

Y/n stiffened as the Joker draped the coat around her shoulders, the weight of the fabric heavy and thick. The gesture was unnerving, a stark contrast to the violence and chaos that had defined their encounters thus far. She stood frozen in place, her mind reeling with the unsettling realization that, in the twisted world of Gotham, even the most malevolent of figures could harbor empathy.

"Can't have my bunny freezing, can I?" The Joker's gravelly voice cut through the tense silence, his words tinged with an unsettling mix of concern and mockery.

Y/n stood frozen in place, her mind a whirlwind of confusion and disbelief. This unexpected act of kindness from the notorious Clown Prince of Crime felt like a twisted joke, leaving her at a loss for words.

Her thoughts spun in a dizzying whirl as she struggled to comprehend the surreal turn of events. Why was the Joker, of all people, extending such an unusual gesture towards her?

"As much as I'd love to walk you back to your dorm, I've got places to be," the Joker continued, his tone casual as he turned on his heel, his figure receding into the shadows of the alley.

“Goodbye, Bunny,” his voice echoed in the alleyway.

Y/n watched him go, a mixture of apprehension and curiosity gnawing at her insides. She couldn't shake the feeling of unease that clung to her like a second skin, her mind racing with unanswered questions.

Turning her attention to the coat draped around her shoulders, Y/n felt a wave of disorientation wash over her. It felt surreal to be adorned in the Joker's iconic attire, a stark reminder of the surreal encounter she had just experienced.

As she made her way home, the weight of the coat hung heavy upon her, its unfamiliar presence a constant reminder of the surreal chain of events that had unfolded in the dimly lit alley. Y/n prayed fervently that no one would recognize the coat she wore, fearing the inevitable questions and suspicions that would surely follow.

Each step felt like a surreal blur, the reality of the situation sinking in with each passing moment. Y/n couldn't shake the nagging feeling that her encounter with the Joker was far from over, his presence lingering in the shadows of her thoughts like a haunting specter.

-

A day had passed since that second encounter, yet Y/n still struggled to wrap her mind around the surreal turn of events. The Joker, of all people, had saved her. The very same man who had orchestrated a bank robbery only days before had intervened to rescue her from a potential mugging. It was a twist of fate that defied all logic and left Y/n grappling with a strange mixture of gratitude and disbelief.

As she gazed at the purple coat draped across her chair, Y/n couldn't help but feel a surge of conflicting emotions wash over her. The garment served as a tangible reminder of the unlikely alliance forged in the depths of Gotham's shadows, a silent testament to the bond she now shared with the Clown Prince of Crime.

It was a paradox that baffled her, and while the events of the past day had left her shaken and uncertain, one thing was clear. the Joker's actions had defied all expectations, leaving Y/n to grapple with the unsettling realization that perhaps, in the twisted world of Gotham, even the most notorious of villains could harbor a spark of unexpected humanity. Y/n couldn't shake the unease that gnawed at her, the weight of the garment heavy with unanswered questions.

What was she supposed to do with it now?

The thought lingered in her mind, casting a shadow over her already troubled thoughts. Would the Joker come looking for it? Or would it remain in her possession, a permanent reminder of the inexplicable bond forged in the darkness of Gotham's alleys?

Either scenario filled her with a sense of dread. The thought of the Joker tracking her down sent shivers down her spine, while the prospect of being forever tethered to the coat felt like a suffocating burden.

As fate would have it, the coat laying over her chair would soon be the least of her worries.

-

Upon returning to her dorm from a long day of lectures, Y/n's heart skipped a beat as she stepped into her room, greeted by the absence of the Joker's coat. Initially, the sight would have brought her immense relief, were it not for the unsettling realization that its disappearance hinted at a much more alarming reality that the Joker had been in her room.

A shiver traced its way down her spine as she scanned the room, her senses on high alert. With cautious steps, she made her way to her desk, her movements tense with apprehension. Flipping through the scattered belongings, she breathed a tentative sigh of relief as she realized that nothing appeared to be missing, well, aside from the mess she had inadvertently created.

But just as she began to relax, her eyes fell upon an unexpected discovery nestled within her drawer, a piece of paper adorned with a smudged smiley face, drawn in what looked like lipstick or face paint. With trembling hands, Y/n retrieved the paper, her heart pounding in her chest as she turned it over.

"Use the money, Bunny," the words scrawled across the paper sent a chill down her spine, the possible meaning of the message sinking in with a nauseating weight.

Fighting back a rising tide of panic, Y/n tentatively reached into the drawer, her fingers closing around the familiar wad of cash. Yet, to her astonishment, her touch encountered not one, but two bundles of bills, an unexpected windfall courtesy of the Joker himself.

The realization left her reeling, her mind spinning with disbelief. What did it all mean? And more importantly, what did the Joker want from her now? As she grappled with these unsettling questions, one thing was certain: the enigmatic Clown Prince of Crime had once again thrust her into the midst of his twisted game leaving her with a handful of cash and a trail of unanswered questions.

-

Once again, Y/n found herself walking down the Gotham's streets under the cloak of night, a decision she had sworn she wouldn't repeat after her previous night. Yet, the suffocating crowds of the city's daytime bustle left her feeling more vulnerable than ever, driving her back to the relative solitude of the nocturnal streets.

With her hands buried deep in her pockets, Y/n hurried along the familiar path to her usual convenience store, her steps quickened by a sense of urgency that seemed to permeate the very air around her. Despite the familiarity of the route, each shadow seemed to loom larger, every alleyway a potential trap lying in wait.

Finally reaching her destination, she breathed a sigh of relief as she confirmed that the store was indeed open this time, a small victory in the face of Gotham's relentless chaos. Snagging a couple of snacks, she wasted no time in completing her purchase before slipping back out into the night.

As she walked briskly down the dimly lit street, her senses on high alert, Y/n's heart skipped a beat as she neared an ominous alleyway, a dark abyss from which the muffled sounds of distress emanated. Her pulse quickened with apprehension, her instincts screaming at her to turn and flee.

With a sinking feeling, she realized that she was frozen in place, her feet refusing to carry her past the source of the chilling cries for help. And then, as if on cue, a desperate voice shattered the silence, cutting through the night like a knife.

"Help me!" the plea echoed through the darkness, sending a shiver down Y/n's spine. 

Y/n's heart plummeted as the menacing figures in the alleyway pivoted to fix their gaze upon her, their predatory stares sending a chill down her spine. And then, as if materializing from the very shadows themselves, the unmistakable voice of the Joker sliced through the night air, his mocking tone dripping with sinister amusement.

"Well, well, if it isn't my Bunny," the Joker's voice rang out, a dark melody that sent a shiver down Y/n's spine. “We can’t keep meeting like this.”

Without a moment's hesitation, Y/n abandoned her purchases, her only thought to escape the clutches of the Clown Prince of Crime. With adrenaline coursing through her veins, she bolted down the streets of Gotham, her breaths ragged and panicked.

The cacophony of her own heartbeat drowned out all other sound, the pounding rhythm echoing in her ears as she careened through the streets. Her vision blurred with tears of fear and desperation, each stride carrying her farther from the looming specter of the Joker. It felt like everytime she left her dorm, she was being chased or attacked.

As she approached a bustling intersection, Y/n's resolve wavered, her frenzied mind teetering on the edge of recklessness. With a reckless abandon born of sheer panic, she made a split-second decision, her foot poised to step into the path of an oncoming car.

But just as she was about to leap into the unknown, a firm grip seized her hoodie, yanking her back with a jolt. She stumbled backwards, her heart pounding in her chest as she was pulled into the safety of the man's embrace behind her.

The adrenaline-fueled rush subsided, replaced by a wave of overwhelming relief as Y/n realized the gravity of the narrow escape.

"What, are you fucking crazy? Are you trying to get yourself killed?" the man's voice, tinged with exasperation, cut through the haze of panic.

Her skin still tingling with the remnants of fear, Y/n bristled at the accusation, her indignation rising in the face of the Joker's audacious presence. With a defiant shove, she attempted to break free from his grasp, only to find herself ensnared once more by the iron grip of the man behind her.

Y/n's voice quivered with fear as she pleaded for mercy, her words tumbling out in a desperate rush. "Please! I didn't see anything! I'm sorry!"

The Joker's gaze bore down upon her with an unsettling intensity, his eyes narrowing in confusion. Her eyes followed down his body to his other hand, her heart lurching in her chest as she caught sight of the glinting blade clasped within his grasp. With a strangled cry, she recoiled, the threat of violence hanging heavy in the air.

"Quit it with the screaming, okay!" the Joker snapped, his tone brusque as he silenced her.

Her breaths came in ragged gasps as she struggled to compose herself, her hands trembling with the weight of her fear.

"Don't hurt me, please..." Y/n's voice cracked with desperation, her plea hanging in the air like a fragile thread.

The Joker's response showed he was clearly irritated. "I'm not going to hurt you," he retorted, his tone dripping with annoyance.

Y/n's eyes widened in disbelief, her gaze darting to the glinting blade still held within the Joker's grasp. "You have a knife!" she pointed out, her voice trembling with apprehension.

The Joker waved her concern away with a dismissive flick of his wrist. "Forget about the knife," he declared, his attention already drifting elsewhere.

"What do you want from me?" Y/n's voice quivered with uncertainty, her gaze locked on the figure before her.

But the Joker merely chuckled, his response cryptic and evasive. "I popped by the other day. You weren't home so I just let myself in," he explained, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes at her incredulous expression.

"Yeah... I fucking noticed," Y/n retorted, looking at his purple coat.

The Joker's laughter filled the street at her remark, his amusement seemingly boundless. "How did you even get in?" Y/n demanded, her voice laced with a mixture of frustration and disbelief.

"With locks like those, it's hard not to," the Joker replied with a smirk, his gaze sweeping over her with a mixture of amusement and disdain.

"How did you even figure out where I lived?" Y/n pressed, her curiosity outweighing her fear.

But the Joker's response was infuriatingly vague. "Does it matter?" he quipped, his tone flippant as he dismissed her question with a wave of his hand.

Y/n felt frustrated as she realized the conversation was going nowhere. The Joker's vague answers only made her feel more uneasy.

"Why don't we walk back and grab your things, hmm?" the Joker suggested, his tone oddly casual despite the gravity of their situation.

Though wary of his intentions, Y/n reluctantly agreed, her steps hesitant as they set off together. But rather than walking alongside her as one might expect, the Joker lingered just slightly behind, a shadowy presence that loomed ominously in her peripheral vision.

Feeling the weight of his gaze upon her, Y/n came to a sudden halt, her unease bubbling to the surface. With a trembling voice, she addressed the Joker, her eyes fixed on the ground before her. 

"Can you please walk beside me," she whispered, her words barely audible above the noise of the city.

The Joker's response was a flash of amusement, his grin spreading across his face like a twisted caricature.

"Aww, does the bunny want to hold my hand?" he teased, his voice dripping with mock innocence.

Y/n was taken aback as the Joker's gloved hand enclosed hers, his grip firm yet strangely comforting. With her heart racing, she found herself being led by the mysterious figure, a whirlwind of emotions swirling in her mind.

With every step, Y/n felt the Joker's imposing presence bearing down on her, making her feel suffocated. Despite feeling trapped, she had no choice but to accept the strange reality of their situation. She kept her eyes focused on the ground as they walked through the dimly lit streets of Gotham side by side.

As Y/n returned to the alley, she heaved a sigh of relief upon seeing her purchases relatively unscathed, their packaging intact. However, the same couldn't be said for the bag that once held them, it lay torn open, now unuseable.

Gathering her items into her arms, Y/n cast a wary glance down the alley, the eerie silence a stark contrast to the screaming that had driven her to flee in the first place. The unsettling thought made her stomach churn uncomfortably.

Beside her, the Joker stood with an air of nonchalant observation, his hands tucked into the depths of his trench coat pockets. With a snap of his fingers, he summoned two of his lackeys, who hurried to his side at his command.

"You got a bag?" the Joker asked, his tone tinged with impatience.

"Um, no boss," the two men replied in unison, exchanging a hesitant glance.

Clicking his tongue in frustration, the Joker's gaze flicked back to Y/n. "We can go grab you one if you need," one of the men offered.

"Forget it, just go sort that out and I'll meet you in an hour," the Joker dismissed them with a wave of his hand, gesturing down the alley.

As the men scurried off to comply with his orders, the Joker turned his attention back to Y/n, his gaze piercing. "Give me those," he commanded, snatching the food from Y/n's grasp before she could protest.

"I-I can—" Y/n attempted to speak up, only to be silenced by the Joker's sharp interruption.

"Quiet," he snapped, cutting her off with a steely glare.

Efficiently, the Joker began to stuff the items into his pockets, reserving the larger items like chips to hold in his hands.

"Now, let's get you back to your dorm, hmm?" the Joker suggested, turning to address Y/n once more, his demeanor unsettlingly calm amidst the chaos of the alleyway.

Reluctantly, Y/n nodded. She knew arguing with the Joker would only lead to more trouble, and she was already on edge from their encounter. Clutching the remaining items tightly to her chest, she followed the Joker as he led the way to her university hostel.

As they walked, Y/n couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the air. Every step felt heavy, weighted down by the knowledge that she was at the mercy of the Clown Prince of Crime. She stole glances at him from the corner of her eye, unable to decipher the enigmatic expression on his face.

The journey back to her dorm felt endless, each passing moment filled with tension and uncertainty. Y/n's mind raced with a myriad of questions, but she dared not voice them aloud, fearing the Joker's unpredictable response.

To her surprise, Y/n didn't need to initiate the conversation. "I'm guessing you still haven't touched my gifts," the Joker remarked, his tone casual yet tinged with annoyance.

Y/n furrowed her brow in confusion. "Gifts?" she echoed.

The Joker rolled his eyes in exasperation. "The money. The two bricks of money I gave you," he clarified impatiently.

A sense of unease crept over Y/n as she realized the gravity of the Joker's words. She hesitated, unsure of how to respond.

"I... no, I haven't used them," she admitted, her voice trembling slightly.

"Why not?" the Joker demanded, his frustration palpable.

"W-well, it's not really... my money," Y/n stammered, her nerves getting the best of her.

"Ahh, yeah it is... I gave them to you," the Joker countered sharply.

"I know that, but... it's illegal money," Y/n explained, her words rushed and hesitant.

The Joker scoffed, dismissing her concerns with a wave of his hand. "Have you seen this city? Everything here is illegal. Use the damn money," he insisted.

Feeling a knot form in her stomach, Y/n could only nod quickly in response, her mind reeling with the implications of the Joker's demands.

Finally, they reached the familiar entrance to Y/n's dormitory. With a sense of relief washing over her, she paused at the threshold, turning to face the Joker hesitantly.

"Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

The Joker reached into his pockets, retrieving the assorted treats he had hastily stuffed inside. With a flourish, he presented them to Y/n, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

The Joker offered her a cryptic smile in response, his eyes glinting with a hint of mischief. "Anytime, Bunny," he replied, before disappearing into the shadows with an unsettling grace.

Left alone in the quiet of the night, Y/n let out a shaky breath, her heart still racing from the encounter. As she stepped into the safety of her dormitory, she couldn't shake the feeling that this wouldn't be the last time she crossed paths with the infamous Joker.

-

Despite being accustomed to enduring long lectures in crowded rooms, they always seemed to take a toll on Y/n. Dragging herself back to her dorm, she could already feel the weight of exhaustion bearing down on her, her mind consumed by the anticipation of the nap she desperately needed.

As she unlocked the door and stepped inside her dorm room, her tired eyes widened in shock. There, sprawled across her bed in his unmistakable attire, was the Joker.

Her initial reaction was one of sheer terror, a scream escaping her lips before she could stop herself. Hastily, she clamped her hand over her mouth, her heart pounding erratically in her chest.

"Ah! You're back!" the Joker exclaimed, rising from her bed.

Y/n's mind raced, panic overtaking her ability to form coherent thoughts. She tried to back away, but found herself trapped against the closed door, her breaths coming in shallow gasps as she struggled to make sense of the surreal situation unfolding before her.

"Why are you here?" Y/n ventured, her voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

"I was in the neighborhood, thought I'd pay you a visit," the Joker replied casually, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

Y/n couldn't help but scoff inwardly at his flimsy excuse. It was clear to her that his sudden appearance had ulterior motives, but she kept her thoughts to herself.

"Don't you have crimes to commit?" she blurted out before she could stop herself, a wave of panic washing over her as soon as the words left her mouth.

To her surprise, the Joker's response was met with a sly grin rather than anger or offense. "Not for another few hours, Bunny," he quipped, his tone teasing.

Heat rushed to Y/n's cheeks at the familiar nickname, and she quickly averted her gaze, feeling a pang of embarrassment wash over her.

"Excuse me," she muttered softly, retreating to her bed and huddling against the headboard, her eyes fixed on the Joker as he settled himself at the opposite end of the bed.

As the Joker made himself comfortable, lounging against the wall with his legs crossed.

"Take your shoes off before you put your feet on my bed!" Y/n exclaimed, her voice betraying a hint of irritation.

With a grumble, the Joker complied, kicking his shoes off and allowing them to clatter to the ground. Y/n couldn't help but feel a surge of unexpected confidence at her boldness, silently thanking whatever higher power had spared her from the Joker's wrath.

Y/n found herself at a loss, her dorm now occupied by someone as unsettling as the Joker. She sat back, her gaze lingering on him uncertainly. She couldn't help but notice the scars marring his face, though she made a conscious effort to avoid dwelling on them for too long.

The scars, etched deeply into his skin, held a certain fascination for her. Even though she only caught a glimpse of the left side of his face, the wide, prominent scar demanded her attention. Despite her curiosity about their origin, she knew better than to broach the subject with someone as unpredictable as the Joker.

Suddenly, the Joker's gaze met hers, prompting her to quickly avert her eyes in embarrassment. "What are you looking at?" his tone sharp.

Y/n's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she mumbled an apology. "Sorry..." she murmured, her discomfort palpable in the air between them.

Y/n sensed movement from the corner of her eye as the Joker shifted onto his knees and crawled closer to her on the bed. Her heart pounded erratically in her chest as neared her.

"Is it the scars?" the Joker's voice cut through the tense silence, his tone deceptively innocent.

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to offend you," Y/n stammered, her apology laced with genuine remorse.

The Joker furrowed his brows in response, clearly taken aback by her unexpected apology.

"Here... Why don't I give you a better look?" Suddenly, he reached out and grabbed her face, his grip firm yet surprisingly gentle as he forced her to look at him.

Y/n squirmed in discomfort, but the Joker maintained his hold, his piercing gaze locking with hers. Despite her initial unease, her eyes were drawn not to his scars, but to his own intense gaze, filled with a complexity she couldn't quite decipher.

Y/n found herself captivated by the striking contrast of the Joker's eyes against the backdrop of his black face paint. They were a mesmerizing hazel, with hints of green around the edges, drawing her in like a moth to a flame.

"What are you looking at, Bunny? I thought you wanted to see my scars," the Joker remarked, his voice surprisingly soft.

Y/n blinked, momentarily taken aback by his unexpected question. She couldn't tear her gaze away from his captivating eyes.

"You have really nice eyes," she blurted out, the words escaping before she could stop them.

The Joker's lips curved into a faint smirk at her unexpected compliment. He released her face, withdrawing his hand as he settled back on the bed, his gaze still fixed on hers.

"Why, thank you, Bunny. I do try to maintain some level of charm," he replied, his tone dripping with amusement.

Y/n shifted uncomfortably under his intense stare, unsure of what to make of the strange dynamics between them. Despite the Joker's unsettling presence, there was an inexplicable magnetism that seemed to draw her to him.

As the silence stretched between them, Y/n couldn't help but feel a twinge of unease creeping back in. She cleared her throat nervously, searching for something to break the tension.

"So... why are you really here?" she ventured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Joker's response hung in the air. "I just like you," he hummed, his tone casual yet laden with a mysterious undertone.

Y/n couldn't quite decipher the meaning behind his words. Was he being genuine, or was this just another one of his twisted games? And even if he did mean it, what exactly did he mean by it?

Her mind raced with questions, but she found herself at a loss for words, unsure of how to respond to the Joker's cryptic declaration. The Joker's grin widened as he observed Y/n's perplexed expression. He seemed to relish in her uncertainty, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

"Don't worry your pretty little head about it, Bunny. Just enjoy the company," he said, his voice dripping with mock sweetness.

Y/n couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of her stomach. Despite the Joker's casual demeanor, there was an underlying sense of danger that lingered around him like a dark cloud.

She forced a weak smile, nodding in response, but her mind raced with a multitude of unanswered questions. As the silence enveloped them once again, Y/n couldn't help but wonder what other surprises the Joker had in store for her.

Y/n watched with curiosity as the Joker sauntered over to her shelf, his eyes scanning the various items displayed there.

"What do we have here..." His voice held a mischievous edge as he rubbed his hands together, clearly intrigued by the contents.

His gaze landed on the CD player, and a wicked grin spread across his face. "What does this little bunny like to listen to?" he mused aloud, reaching out to press the play button.

The familiar strains of music filled the room as the CD player came to life. Y/n recognized the song instantly, it was one she had been listening to earlier that day. The chorus of "Last Cup of Sorrow" by Faith No More filled the air

As the music filled the room, the Joker's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of mischief and madness. Without warning, he extended his hand towards Y/n, a silent invitation for her to join him.

"Come on, Bunny, don't be shy," he urged, his voice laced with excitement.

Y/n hesitated, her heart pounding in her chest as she weighed her options. But before she could respond, the Joker was already closing the distance between them, his hand gripping hers firmly as he pulled her towards him.

"Let's have some fun, shall we?" he said, his grip unyielding as he began to sway to the rhythm of the music.

Caught off guard, Y/n stumbled slightly, her movements awkward and hesitant. But Joker's relentless energy was infectious, and soon she found herself being swept up in the ood dance.

As they twirled and spun around the room, Y/n couldn't help but feel a strange sense of exhilaration mingled with fear. The Joker's laughter filled the air, echoing off the walls as they danced, a twisted symphony of madness and mayhem. And amidst the chaos, Y/n couldn't shake the feeling that she was being drawn deeper into the Joker's twisted world with each step they took.

"Bunny having fun, hmm?" Joker teased, his eyes alight with amusement as he watched Y/n begin to smile.

The contrast between this dance and their first encounter in the bank was stark. There were no hostages, no looming threat of violence, just the two of them, alone in her room, moving to the rhythm of her music.

"Such a pretty little thing when you smile," Joker remarked suddenly, his words sending a warm flush creeping up Y/n's cheeks.

Caught off guard by the unexpected compliment, Y/n felt a flutter of emotions swirling within her. Despite the chaos and danger that seemed to follow the Joker wherever he went, there was something strangely captivating about him in this moment, something that made her pulse quicken and her heart race.

As the song reached its climax, Joker twirled Y/n one final time, their movements becoming more frenzied and erratic with each passing moment. The room seemed to spin around them, the music echoing in their ears as they danced in a whirlwind of chaos and uncertainty.

With a dramatic end, Joker dipped Y/n backwards, her heart racing as she gazed up at him, their eyes locking in a moment of intense connection. For a fleeting instant, it felt as though time stood still, as though they were the only two people in the world.

But just as quickly as it had begun, the dance came to an abrupt end. Joker released his grip on Y/n, letting her fall. She screamed as the sudden pull of gravity yanked her downward, the impact jarring as she hit the floor. Pain shot through her body, but it was nothing compared to the surge of anger that flooded her veins as she looked up at the Joker.

"What the fuck, Joker?!" she exclaimed, her voice laced with fury and betrayal.

But the Joker simply grinned down at her, his eyes gleaming with mischief and amusement. "Oops, dopy me," he quipped, his tone infuriatingly nonchalant.

Y/n could do nothing but glare.

"Well, that was fun," he remarked casually, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "But I've got places to be, Bunny. I’ll be seeing you."

Y/n's heart sank as she watched Joker turn away from her, a pang of disappointment mingling with the lingering thrill of their dance. She wanted to say something, to protest or something, but she found herself speechless, unable to form the words.

With a final smirk over his shoulder, Joker disappeared out the door, leaving Y/n alone in the silence of her room. As she sat there, still thinking about him. The way he moved with her, it was unlike anything she had experienced before. In his arms, she didn't feel the familiar grip of fear tightening around her chest, instead, there was a sense of exhilaration, a rush of adrenaline coursing through her veins. Dancing with him was like stepping into another world, one where she could forget about her worries and simply be in the moment.

As they moved together in perfect synchronization, she couldn't help but feel a sense of happiness wash over her. It was as if the weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders, replaced by a buoyant feeling of joy and excitement. In that moment, there was only the music, the movement, and the electrifying connection between them.

For the first time in what felt like forever, she allowed herself to let go, to revel in the intoxicating thrill of the dance. And as they twirled and spun across the room, she couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, there was something special about the Joker after all.

-

It had been a few days since Joker had last visited her dorm room, and the memory of their dance lingered in Y/n's mind. She found herself constantly thinking about him and the strange encounters they had shared. As she lay in bed, contemplating the events of the past few days, she couldn't shake the feeling that fluttered in her stomach.

Late into the night, as the clock approached 11 PM, Y/n was just about to drift off to sleep when she heard movement outside her door. She let out a resigned sigh, assuming it was just some noisy neighbors from down the hall. However, her heart skipped a beat when her door swung open, revealing an unexpected visitor.

The creak of the door opening wide echoed through her room. She froze in her bed, the darkness of the room swallowing her up as she strained to see who had entered. Her mind raced with possibilities, but deep down, she knew exactly who it was.

The figure stepped into the room, the faint light from the hallway casting eerie shadows across the floor. Y/n's breath caught in her throat as she watched the silhouette move closer, her pulse quickening with each step. She couldn't make out his face in the dim light, but she didn't need to. She knew it was him.

"Miss me, Bunny?" his voice, dripping with mischief, filled the room, sending shivers down her spine.

Y/n flicked on her bedside lamp as Joker sauntered into the room, shutting the door behind him. "What the hell?" Y/n groaned, rubbing her eyes wearily.

Joker began rifling through her drawers, pulling out clothes and inspecting them before carelessly tossing them onto the floor. Y/n shot up from her bed and approached him, annoyance evident in her voice. 

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" she exclaimed, gesturing to the mess he was creating.

"Don't fret, Doll. Just for a nice little outfit for you," Joker replied casually, tossing another item aside with a nonchalant grin.

"Why?" Y/n questioned, her confusion evident.

"Because, Doll, you and I are hitting the town," Joker declared, holding up a shirt for inspection before tossing it onto Y/n's bed and moving on to her bottoms.

"But I have classes tomorrow, Joker," Y/n protested.

"Uh huh," Joker murmured dismissively, paying her complaint no mind as he continued his search.

Y/n rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Well, maybe if you actually went to university, you'd understand," she retorted, taking a jab at his unconventional career choice.

"I'm too old for uni, Bunny," Joker replied with a smirk.

"You're never too old to learn," Y/n shot back.

"Fucking nerd," Joker muttered under his breath, eliciting an eye roll from Y/n.

"What are you, 12? Get a better insult," Y/n retorted. "And I hope you don’t really expect me to go out with you."

"I'm taking you one way or another," Joker stated firmly.

Y/n wanted to stay mad, but her heart was pounding with excitement. The fact that Joker wanted to hang out with her felt monumental. Joker eventually found a skirt to pair with her shirt and tossed it onto the bed.

"Get changed," Joker commanded, already moving to fetch her some shoes.

"Don't tell me what to do," Y/n muttered under her breath.

Joker turned to give her an intimidating stare. Y/n stood up, reluctantly agreeing, "Fine, I’ll change, just get out while I do."

"You can change right here, Doll, I won’t peek," Joker assured her, smirking.

"I'm inclined not to believe you," Y/n replied.

Knowing he wasn't going to leave, she sighed and grabbed a bra to put on first.

"Oh, so I'm getting the full show?" Joker teased, making Y/n blush furiously.

"Stop being a weirdo," Y/n snapped, pulling her arms through her sleeves to put her bra on underneath her shirt.

Joker dramatically pouted while inspecting her shoes. Y/n managed to get the bra on and glanced at the clothes he had chosen. It was a nice see-through shirt with patterns on it and a black skirt, she liked his style.

She removed her top and started putting on the shirt, only to hear Joker wolf whistle. Her face couldn’t have been hotter at that moment.

"Stop looking!" Y/n yelled, quickly buttoning up the shirt.

She then put on the skirt with her pajama bottoms still on, making sure Joker didn't catch any more glimpses of her than she was comfortable with. Joker sauntered over to where Y/n sat, still in awe of his audacity. As she sat on the bed, shedding her pajama bottoms discreetly beneath her skirt, 

"Nice legs," he remarked, a compliment she wasn't accustomed to receiving.

Joker's casual comment caught her off guard. "Um, thank you?" Y/n responded, unsure how to react.

With the shoes in hand, Joker approached Y/n once more. Just as she reached out to take them, he surprised her by crouching down before her, lifting her foot and resting it gently on his knee. It felt surreal, her mind momentarily going blank.

With deft movements, Joker slipped the shoes onto her feet one by one, securing the straps around her ankles. His touch was surprisingly gentle, the sensation of his leather gloves against her bare skin sending tingles down her spine.

Joker stood up, his hands clapping together sharply, breaking Y/n out of her trance. "Ready, Bunny?" he asked with a grin.

Y/n simply nodded in response. Before she could fully process what was happening, Joker grabbed her hand and pulled her up, leading the way to the door.

But Y/n halted them abruptly. "Wait, we can't just walk out there! Anyone could see you!" she protested.

Joker arched an eyebrow at her. "How do you think I got in, Doll?" he retorted, not waiting for her response as he dragged her out of the dorms.

As they walked, Y/n couldn't shake the rush of adrenaline coursing through her veins. Her eyes remained fixated on their intertwined hands, her wrist held firmly in Joker's grip. It was an oddly exhilarating sensation, one that left her feeling both thrilled and apprehensive.

The cold air and the bustling sounds of the city snapped Y/n back to reality. "Joker, wait..." she began nervously, catching his attention.

Joker turned to her, a hint of impatience in his tone. "What now?" he growled.

"I... I'm sorry, I don't want to go out," Y/n admitted, her voice trembling.

Joker noticed the change in her demeanor and softened slightly. "What's wrong, Bunny?" he asked, moving closer to her.

Y/n's hands shook visibly as she spoke. "I don't do going out. I don't do crowds. I don't do being outside my room," she confessed, avoiding Joker's gaze.

Leaning in, Joker lowered himself to her eye level. "Listen, Bunny. I'll keep you safe tonight. I'll make sure you're all comfy, and nobody will bother you. It'll just be us and a couple of the guys keeping watch. You don't have to worry about a thing. How does that sound?" he whispered reassuringly.

Y/n found herself gazing into Joker's eyes, their warmth contrasting with the hardness of his exterior. She couldn't shake the urge to see his face without the paint, though she knew it was a dangerous curiosity. Despite knowing who he was and what he did, she inexplicably trusted him.

Nodding slowly, she watched as a toothy grin spread across Joker's face. He took her hand once more, leading her toward a waiting van.

"Oh, this doesn't look dodgy at all," Y/n quipped as they approached.

Joker opened the back door for her to enter first. With a polite smile, she stepped inside, Joker following and closing the door behind them. Taking a seat, Y/n looked around the interior.

"Where's the seatbelt?" she asked.

"No seatbelts here, Doll," Joker replied casually.

"Well, you better hope I don't go flying off this seat, then," Y/n scoffed.

"If you feel unsafe, you can always hold onto me, Bunny," Joker suggested, his smirk making Y/n blush once more. "And besides... Rocco's a great driver, isn't that right?" he called to the front of the van.

"Uhhh... yeah, I'd think so, boss," came the hesitant reply from the driver's seat.

Y/n's attention was drawn to the presence of two men seated in the front of the van. They seemed to be keeping to themselves, occasionally exchanging glances in the rearview mirror but otherwise remaining focused on the road ahead as they pulled out of the parking space. Their silence added to the tense atmosphere inside the vehicle, amplifying Y/n's apprehension about the night ahead.

As the van rumbled through the dimly lit streets of Gotham, Joker leaned closer to Y/n, his breath tickling her ear. 

"You nervous, Bunny?" he whispered, his voice sending shivers down her spine.

Y/n swallowed nervously, her eyes darting to the men in the front seats before returning to Joker's intense gaze. "A little," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Joker's lips curled into a sinister grin. "Don't worry, Doll. I'll make sure you have a night to remember," he promised, his tone dripping with mischief.

As the van continued its journey through the city's streets, Y/n couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at her insides. She glanced at Joker, trying to decipher his intentions from the mischievous glint in his eyes, but his expression remained inscrutable.

With each passing minute, Y/n's apprehension grew, but she knew it was too late to turn back now. She was along for the ride, wherever it might lead. She could only hope that Joker's promise of keeping her safe would hold true amidst the uncertainty of the night ahead.

"Now, Doll.. Where we’re going, I’m gonna need to bag you," Joker said, as he casually held up a burlap bag. Y/n felt a surge of anxiety at the sight.

"Wait, what's happening?" Y/n asked, her voice trembling with uncertainty.

Joker raised a gloved hand in a calming gesture. "Relax, Bunny. I told you I'd keep you safe," he reassured her.

Despite her apprehension, Y/n found herself complying as Joker placed the bag over her head, enveloping her in darkness. She couldn't shake the feeling of fear that gripped her tightly as she waited in the unknown.

In the darkness beneath the bag, Y/n felt Joker's firm grip on her wrist as he guided her out of the van. With the van door opening, she was enveloped in a swirl of uncertainty. She hadn't dared to glance out of the tinted windows during the drive, leaving her completely at Joker's mercy.

As they walked, Y/n could feel the ground beneath her shift from rough pavement to a smoother surface, indicating they were inside a building. The silence around her was deafening, leaving her unable to decipher their location. Joker's grip on her wrist remained tight, guiding her with purpose through the mysterious space.

Just as Y/n's mind raced to make sense of the situation, she heard footsteps approaching them. "Your table is ready, sir," a quivering voice spoke, sending shivers down her spine. 

Joker's grip tightened on her wrist as he pulled her along, and she strained to understand the significance of the words. Soon, they approached a second door, which opened before them. As they stepped through, the door closed behind them, enveloping them in an eerie silence that amplified Y/n's anxiety.

As they stepped into the room, the unmistakable sound of Faith No More filled the air, instantly recognizable to Y/n's ears.

As the bag was lifted from her head, Y/n blinked in the sudden light, her eyes adjusting to the scene before her. Before her stood Joker, a mischievous grin on his face as he stepped back to reveal a table set with napkins, candles, and cutlery.

"Ta-da!" Joker announced, spreading his arms with theatrical flair.

In the room, aside from a few strategically placed plants and the central table, there was no one and nothing else present. 

"W-what's going on?" Y/n questioned, her voice trembling with uncertainty.

Joker rolled his eyes before pulling out a chair for her. She settled into the seat as he took his own across the table.

He grabbed one of the menu set in the middle of the table. "Pick anything you like, Doll," Joker chimed in, his eyes scanning the list of options.

Y/n took her own menu, her gaze drifting over the choices as she contemplated her selection.

Y/n glanced around the dimly lit room, her curiosity piqued by the ambiance Joker had created. The flickering candles cast dancing shadows on the walls, adding to the mysterious atmosphere.

"What's the occasion?" Y/n asked, unable to suppress her curiosity any longer.

Joker chuckled softly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Just wanted to take the little Bunny out," he replied, flashing her a grin.

Y/n raised an eyebrow, a hint of skepticism in her expression. Despite her reservations, there was something undeniably intriguing about this impromptu dinner with the Joker.

“What? Is this a date or something?” Y/n's question hung in the air, laced with a nervous chuckle. She couldn't help but feel a mix of curiosity and apprehension about the situation.

Joker's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "If you want it to be, Doll," he replied, leaning back in his chair.

Y/n felt a rush of conflicting emotions. The idea of a date with the Joker was equal parts thrilling and terrifying. Y/n felt a wave of shyness wash over her, her cheeks flushing with warmth as she fidgeted with the menu in her hands. Every glance at Joker sent a flurry of butterflies fluttering in her stomach, making her feel more flustered with each passing moment. She struggled to maintain eye contact, her heart racing as she tried to compose herself in his presence.

"So! What's it gonna be, Doll?" Joker asked, leaning forward slightly, his eyes fixed on hers, waiting for her to tell him her order.

Y/n hesitated, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement. She glanced down at the menu, trying to focus on the options in front of her. Finally, she made her choice and looked up at Joker with a tentative smile.

"I'll have the... um, the chicken alfredo, please," she said, her voice a bit softer than usual.

Joker stood up from his seat with a smirk and walked over to the door, opening it just a crack. He exchanged a few hushed words with one of his men outside before closing the door again, returning to Y/n sitting at the table.

As Joker returned to the table, the realization dawned upon her, Y/n understood the purpose behind the burlap bag and the secrecy. Joker was safeguarding her identity, shielding her from any potential trouble that could arise if her association with him became known. She appreciated his gesture, despite the unconventional means.

"So, uh, thanks for this... dinner," Y/n said, feeling a bit awkward but genuinely appreciative of the gesture.

Joker flashed a grin, his eyes sparkling mischievously. "Anything for my favorite Bunny," he said, leaning back in his chair with a casual air.

Y/n couldn't help but smile at his reply. She still couldn't quite wrap her head around the enigmatic nature of their relationship, but for now, she decided to enjoy the moment and the unexpected dinner date with the notorious Joker.

As the evening progressed, Y/n found herself surprisingly at ease in Joker's company. His charismatic demeanor and witty banter kept her entertained throughout the meal, and she couldn't deny the allure of his unpredictable charm.

Between bites of food and sips of wine, they engaged in lighthearted conversation, sharing stories and exchanging laughs. Despite the peculiar circumstances of their encounter, Y/n couldn't deny that she was enjoying herself, relishing the novelty of the experience.

As the night wore on, the initial tension that had enveloped Y/n began to dissipate, replaced by a growing sense of camaraderie with the man sitting across from her. It was a strange sensation, considering who he was, but she couldn't deny the genuine connection that seemed to be forming between them.

Eventually, the meal came to an end. Joker reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of bills, tossing them onto the table without a second thought.

"Let's get out of here, Bunny," he said, rising from his seat and offering his hand to Y/n.

She hesitated for a moment before putting on the burlap bag again and placing her hand in his, allowing him to lead her out of the restaurant and into the night once again.

As they stepped out into the cool night air, Y/n couldn't help but feel a sense of exhilaration tinged with apprehension. She was stepping into the unknown, guided by a man whose intentions remained shrouded in mystery.

Joker led her back to the van and took off the bag. Without a word, he gestured for Y/n to climb in, and she obliged, settling into the seat beside him. The van rumbled to life, and they began their journey through the city once more.

As they drove, Y/n's mind raced with questions, but she held her tongue, unsure of how much she dared to ask. Instead, she gazed out the window, watching the lights of Gotham blur past as they navigated the labyrinthine streets.

Eventually, they arrived back at Y/n's dorm, and Joker brought the van to a stop. He turned to her, his eyes glinting in the darkness.

"Well, Bunny, it's been a pleasure," he said, his voice laced with a hint of mischief.

Y/n nodded, a mixture of relief and reluctance swirling within her. She knew she should be wary of him, but there was something undeniably compelling about the enigmatic man beside her.

"You're not going to walk me back?" Y/n said, surprising herself with her sudden burst of confidence.

Joker's smirk widened as he stepped out of the van. "Couldn't say no to you," he replied casually.

Together, they walked in silence, the air thick with unspoken tension. Y/n stole glances at Joker, trying to decipher the enigmatic expression on his face. She couldn't quite shake the feeling that there was more to him than met the eye.

When they reached her dorm room, Joker stopped and turned to face her. "Well, here we are," he said, his tone tinged with a hint of amusement.

Y/n nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. She wasn't sure what to say, but she found herself reluctant to part ways with him.

"Thanks for... everything," she finally managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper.

Joker flashed her a grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Anytime, Bunny," he replied before turning on his heel.

As Joker turned back to leave, Y/n's heart raced with a sudden impulse. "Wait!" she called out, her voice echoing in the quiet night.

Surprised, Joker turned back just as Y/n rushed up to him, her hand reaching for his. Without a second thought, she pulled him close and pressed her lips against his, feeling the cool touch of his greasy face paint against her skin. Despite the unconventional sensation, she relished the moment, savoring the feel of his scars beneath her touch.

Caught off guard by Y/n's sudden kiss, Joker froze for a moment before melting into it, his surprise giving way to something more akin to amusement. As they parted, he flashed her a grin, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Well, well, Bunny," he chuckled. "Seems like you've got some surprises up your sleeve too."

Y/n felt a rush of warmth at his words, a mixture of nerves and excitement coursing through her veins. But before she could respond, Joker's expression shifted, his gaze darting around as if sensing something amiss.

With shaky steps, she turned and hurried back towards her dorm, her heart still pounding in her chest. Each step felt heavier than the last, her thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and excitement.

As she reached her door, she fumbled with her keys, her hands trembling with nervous energy. Finally unlocking the door, she practically stumbled into her room, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

Leaning against the door, Y/n let out a shaky breath, her cheeks flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and exhilaration. She couldn't believe what had just happened, the kiss still lingering on her lips like a bittersweet memory.

Feeling a rush of emotions, she sank down onto her bed, burying her face in her hands. It was all so overwhelming. As the reality of her actions sunk in, Y/n's mind raced with a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts. She had just kissed the Joker, arguably one of the most dangerous and unpredictable individuals in Gotham City. It was a reckless move, one that could have dire consequences.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she replayed the moment in her mind, the feel of his lips against hers, the roughness of his scars. It was surreal, almost like a dream, and yet, it had happened.

But along with the rush of adrenaline came a wave of uncertainty and fear. What would happen now? Would the Joker seek her out again? And if he did, what would he want from her?

Y/n shook her head, trying to push away the barrage of questions crowding her mind. For now, all she could do was wait and see, her heart still racing from the daring act she had just committed.

-

Y/n knew it was a terrible idea to go out the night before. She had endured three consecutive two-hour lectures, running on a mere five hours of sleep. Exhaustion weighed heavily on her as she trudged back to her dorm, fantasizing about the blissful nap awaiting her.

Y/n's exhaustion seemed to fade away as she caught wind of the conversation in the common room. Curiosity piqued, she quickened her pace, eager to hear more about the news report.

"Holy shit, turn up the TV," one of her fellow students exclaimed.

"Infamous criminal, Joker, was seen last night with an unknown woman, entering a restaurant," the news report blared from the television.

Y/n's heart skipped a beat as she absorbed the information. Anxiety gnawed at her as she contemplated the implications of being linked to such a notorious figure. Standing in the doorway, Y/n listened intently to the news report echoing from the common room.

The news report continued, "The sighting has sparked widespread speculation about the identity of the mysterious woman seen with the notorious criminal. Eyewitnesses claim the woman appeared to be in her early twenties, possibly younger, but her face was obscured by a bag as they entered the restaurant. Authorities are urging anyone with information about this incident to come forward."

Y/n's heart raced as she realized the gravity of the situation. She had been seen with the Joker, and now her anonymity was at risk. She knew she had to be more cautious than ever before.

The news report continued with a solemn tone, "In a chilling turn of events, just hours after the sighting, reports flooded in of a violent attack attack against several political figures late last night, with witnesses describing the perpetrator as none other than the Joker himself. It was described as a chaotic scenes as the Joker and his accomplices unleashed mayhem in the heart of the city, targeting high-profile individuals attending a gala event."

Y/n's stomach dropped as she listened to the horrifying news. She couldn't believe she had been with him just hours before, completely unaware of his plans. Fear and guilt gripped her as she realized the danger she had unwittingly placed herself in by associating with the Joker.

Y/n felt a wave of nausea wash over her as the reality sank in. The man she had shared a meal and a moment with had gone on to commit atrocious acts of violence. The guilt weighed heavy on her conscience as she rushed to her room, seeking solace in solitude. Each step felt heavier than the last, burdened by the knowledge of her unwitting association with a criminal of such magnitude. She couldn't shake off the feeling of disgust and betrayal, retreating into her room to grapple with her tumultuous emotions alone.

Y/n was overwhelmed by a mix of regret and disbelief. How could she have been so reckless as to kiss someone without truly knowing who they were? She cursed herself for her naivety and ignorance, realizing that she had allowed herself to be drawn into the orbit of a dangerous individual. From that moment on, she vowed to steer clear of any further association with him, determined to distance herself from the enigmatic figure who had deceived her so thoroughly.

-

A few days passed, and Y/n tried her best to put the incident behind her. However, her resolve was put to the test when, one evening, there was a knock on her dorm room door. With a sinking feeling in her stomach, she approached cautiously, heart racing as she wondered who could be on the other side. Opening the door tentatively, she was met with the unmistakable figure of the Joker, standing there with his characteristic grin.

"Happy to see me, Bunny?" The Joker's voice was laced with amusement as he stood casually in the doorway, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

Y/n's heart skipped a beat as she took in the sight of the Joker standing at her doorstep. She hesitated, unsure of how to react, but before she could say anything, he pushed his way into her dorm room with that ever-present smirk on his face.

"I got you a little something," Joker announced, producing a bouquet of flowers from behind his back. The contrast between the bright, colorful blooms and his dark, enigmatic presence sent a shiver down Y/n's spine.

"J-Joker... You shouldn't be here," Y/n stammered, her voice trembling as he pushed the bouquet of flowers into her hands.

The Joker merely chuckled, unfazed by her unease. "There's a lot of things I shouldn't do, Doll. But here I am," he retorted, ignoring her plea.

"You can’t be here… Please, just go," Y/n pleaded again, her eyes pleading with him to understand.

Joker's expression softened slightly as he noticed the tears welling up in Y/n's eyes. He took a step closer, but she instinctively backed away, her fear palpable.

"Bunny, what's wrong?" Joker's voice was surprisingly gentle, a stark contrast to his usual demeanor.

"I just... need some time alone," Y/n replied, her voice barely above a whisper, her emotions too overwhelming to articulate.

Joker hesitated for a moment, his eyes scanning Y/n's face as if searching for answers. Finally, he nodded slowly, acknowledging her request.

"Alright, Bunny. I'll leave you be," Joker said softly, his voice carrying a hint of concern.

Y/n watched as Joker turned to leave, his presence disappearing from her dorm room. Alone once again, she sank onto her bed, clutching the bouquet of flowers tightly against her chest as tears began to fall freely.

She grappled with conflicting emotions, torn between the fear of what Joker might do if he discovered the truth and the guilt of rejecting his gesture of kindness. The bouquet of flowers lay on her bed, a poignant reminder of the tangled mess she found herself in. Y/n felt trapped, uncertain of how to handle the situation she was in.

-

As Y/n made her way back to her dorm, an unease settled over her. Another week had passed since Joker visited her. Every shadow seemed to harbor a lurking threat, and she quickened her pace, eager to reach the safety of her room. However, her apprehension only intensified when she was stopped by someone from her floor.

"Got yourself a boyfriend or something, huh?" the girl asked with a knowing smirk.

Y/n's confusion deepened. “Uhh.. No," she replied cautiously.

The girl nodded toward Y/n's dorm room. "Guess you've got a secret admirer then," she said before walking away.

Heart pounding, Y/n approached her door and froze at the sight before her. Another bouquet of flowers, even larger than before, greeted her, accompanied by a playing card resting beside it. As she reached for the card, her fingers trembled, and she turned it over to reveal the unmistakable image of a joker.

Her breath caught in her throat as she stood frozen in the doorway, her eyes widening in disbelief. The sight that greeted her inside was both stunning and terrifying. Flowers, dozens of them, filled her room, arranged in an array of colors and shapes.

Y/n stumbled forward, dropping the bouquet she held in her trembling hands. As she surveyed the room, her heart hammered against her chest. Four bouquets adorned her desk, their vibrant hues contrasting sharply with the pale surface. Another three lay scattered across her bed, their delicate petals casting shadows in the dim light. And yet more flowers, at least twenty, were strewn haphazardly throughout the room, their sweet fragrance mingling in the air.

Fear clenched at her insides as she realized the implications of this gesture. Y/n stood there, stunned by the sheer extravagance of the display. Never before had anyone shown her such generosity or tenderness, and coming from someone like the Joker, it only meant trouble.

Given the fact that this man killed for a living and enjoyed it, receiving such affectionate gifts from him carried a weighty significance. It hinted at a depth of feeling and a seriousness in his affection that Y/n found both bewildering and unsettling.

Inspecting her desk, Y/n noticed several scattered playing cards, one of which bore writing along the face of it. She picked it up and read the message: ‘Sorry I couldn't give these in person, Bunny. Hope you're feeling better.’ Beneath the message, there was a small doodle of a bunny.

The message offered little comfort, especially considering the likelihood that Joker had likely gone on to commit some heinous act afterward, perhaps even something as dreadful as blowing up a school bus.

Y/n found herself utterly lost, grappling with a sense of powerlessness. Yet, she knew she couldn't afford to succumb to fear any longer. Having the Joker show up uninvited was no longer an option. The next time she saw him, Y/n knew she had to put a stop to this.

-

Despite the danger of navigating Gotham's streets at night, Y/n had grown accustomed to it. It was a routine she had mastered, whether it was grabbing late-night essentials from the convenience store or simply wandering the dimly lit alleys. But tonight was different, tonight, she felt the presence of danger looming around every corner.

As she hurried along the deserted streets, Y/n couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched. Every shadow seemed to conceal a hidden threat, every flicker of movement sent a jolt of apprehension through her veins. But deep down, she knew that somehow, some way, her path would intersect with the Joker's once again.

Tonight was the night in which Y/n would confront Joker and declare what ever was happening between the two of them would not happen again.

Y/n's mind was occupied as she walked along the sidewalk, her thoughts consumed by the upcoming confrontation with the Joker. Suddenly, a group of men passed by, one of them coming to an abrupt halt.

"Hey... I know this chick," he exclaimed, pointing directly at Y/n.

Startled, Y/n turned to face them. "Excuse me?" she replied, her voice tinged with apprehension.

"Yeah, you're the one who put us in the shits with the Joker," another man chimed in, his tone accusatory.

Recognition dawned on Y/n as she realized who these men were. Y/n's horror deepened as she recognized the men who had attempted to mug her when the Joker intervened in that dark alley. The memories flooded back, vivid and unsettling.

As the men closed in on her, memories of that terrifying encounter surged through Y/n's mind. She instinctively stepped back, trying to distance herself from the group, but they closed in, their faces contorted with malice.

"Should've kept your mouth shut back then, girlie," one of them snarled, shoving her roughly.

Y/n stumbled backward, her heart racing with fear. She knew she was in trouble, trapped in this menacing situation with no one to help her.

“B-but… I didn’t s-say anything. It wasn’t my fault..” Y/n’s eyes welled with tears.

As the men continued to harass her, Y/n's mind raced, searching desperately for a way out. She knew she couldn't take them on physically, but she had to find a way to escape. With each push and taunt, her fear turned to determination.

Suddenly, a voice cut through the tension like a blade. "Ah, the old, familiar places.." 

Y/n's heart skipped a beat as she recognized the voice. It was him. The Joker. 

As soon as the Joker's voice rang out, the men froze in terror, their faces paling. Without hesitation, they turned to flee just as they did last time, but before they could take a step, two of Joker's henchmen emerged from the shadows and grabbed them, preventing their escape. The men struggled against the firm grip of Joker's men. 

"Bunny, Henshaw over here will escort you back to the van. I've got some unfinished business to attend to," Joker declared, his gaze fixed on the trembling men.

Y/n felt a mix of relief and fear as one of Joker's men, presumably Henshaw, firmly grasped her shoulder and led her away from the scene. She cast a nervous glance back at Joker, unsure of what was about to unfold. Y/n watched as Joker took something from his coat, likely a knife, and moved towards the first man.

"I suggest you look away," Henshaw advised, gently nudging her towards the van.

Feeling a knot form in her stomach, Y/n obeyed, knowing it was wise to heed his warning as the piercing screams pierced the air behind her.

Sitting in the back of the van, Y/n's breaths came in heavy, her hands trembling as the screams echoed outside. She pressed her hands against her ears, trying to block out the horrifying sounds. In the front seat, Henshaw shifted uncomfortably, glancing back at her.

"Uhh... You want me to put on the radio?" Henshaw offered.

Y/n nodded, grateful for any distraction. Henshaw fiddled with the radio, but even the music couldn't drown out the haunting echoes of agony. Y/n felt utterly helpless, unsure of what to do in such a harrowing situation.

Y/n's heart pounded with conflicting emotions. On one hand, she had achieved her goal of finding Joker, but the situation had spiraled out of control. He was out there, committing acts of violence in her name. While she couldn't deny that those men probably deserved it, she couldn't shake the feeling of unease and guilt.

Tonight was supposed to be about confronting Joker and ending whatever twisted connection they had, but now he was killing people for her. The thought of facing Joker now filled her with dread. Would he turn his rage on her next and kill her, or would he simply make her life a living hell? Y/n had no answers, only fear and uncertainty about what lay ahead.

As Y/n grappled with her conflicting emotions, another wave of realization hit her. Despite the chaos and violence that seemed to follow him wherever he went, Joker had shown her a side of himself that she had never experienced before with anyone else. His gestures of affection had left a lasting impression on her, stirring feelings she had never known.

She couldn't deny the way her heart raced in his presence, or the warmth that spread through her when he treated her with tenderness. Joker made her feel special in a way that no one else ever had, and that made her dilemma even more agonizing.

Lost in her thoughts, Y/n was jolted back to reality when the van door was pulled open, revealing Joker standing there. Behind him lay the aftermath of his violent confrontation, a grim reminder of the darkness that lurked within him. As he closed the door, Y/n couldn't help but feel a sense of dread wash over her, uncertain of what would come next.

As Joker settled into the seat across from her, the tension in the van seemed to thicken. Y/n's heart pounded in her chest, her mind racing with a multitude of conflicting thoughts and emotions.

Joker's gaze met hers, and for a moment, there was silence between them. Y/n couldn't bring herself to break the silence, unsure of what to say or how to address the situation unfolding before her.

Finally, Joker spoke, his voice low and measured. "You okay, Bunny?" he asked, his tone surprisingly gentle given the circumstances.

Y/n swallowed hard, her throat feeling dry. "I... I don't know," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Joker's expression softened slightly, and he reached out to gently squeeze her hand. "You don't have to be scared, Doll," he said reassuringly. "I'll always keep you safe."

Despite his words, Y/n couldn't shake the unease that gnawed at her. She knew that being involved with Joker meant being thrust into a world of danger and chaos, and she wasn't sure if she was ready to face the consequences.

But as she looked into Joker's eyes, she couldn't deny the strange pull she felt toward him, the inexplicable connection that seemed to draw her closer to him with each passing moment. Whether it was the thrill of danger or something deeper, Y/n couldn't say for certain.

“You have something to say..I can tell,” Joker's voice was rough and impatient, cutting through the tense silence that hung between them.

“You don't know me that well,” she replied, her voice trembling slightly as she tried to muster up the courage to confront him.

Joker raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable as he regarded her. She could feel the weight of his gaze bearing down on her, making her feel small and vulnerable.

“Listen, Bunny. I ain't known for my patience, so you better start tal—” Joker's words were abruptly cut off by Y/n's confession.

“I don't want you to visit me anymore,” she blurted out, her voice barely above a whisper as she struggled to meet his gaze.

The air in the van seemed to grow heavy with tension as Joker's expression shifted, a dangerous glint entering his eyes. Despite her fear, Y/n stood her ground, her heart pounding in her chest as she awaited his response.

“What did you say, Bunny?” Joker's voice was deceptively light, but the intensity behind his words sent a shiver down her spine.

“I-I don't think you should visit me anymore,” Y/n stammered, her voice trembling with uncertainty.

“Think or want, Doll. Make up your mind,” Joker's tone was mocking, his words laced with an underlying threat that sent a chill down her spine.

As the two men in the front of the van stepped out, leaving them alone, Y/n felt a sense of dread wash over her. She knew she had to stand her ground, to assert her boundaries, no matter the consequences.

“This can't happen anymore,” she stated firmly, her voice quivering with emotion.

“This, what is this,” Joker's question hung in the air, his eyes boring into hers as if searching for the truth hidden within her words.

“I don't know! I don't know what this is, but whatever it is can't happen anymore!” Y/n finally snapped, her frustration and fear bubbling to the surface as she confronted the enigmatic man before her.

Joker's gaze bore into Y/n, his eyes flickering with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine. She could feel the weight of his presence pressing in on her, his very aura demanding attention and compliance. Joker's demeanor shifted, his previously calm facade cracking as he leaned in closer, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

"You're telling me to stay away?" he asked, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down Y/n's spine.

For a moment, there was a tense silence between them, broken only by the distant sounds of the city outside the van. Y/n's heart hammered in her chest, her nerves on edge as she awaited Joker's response. 

"I... I can't do this anymore," Y/n stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's too much. I can't."

“You don't get to decide that, Bunny," he said, his words laced with a hint of menace.

Y/n recoiled slightly, her fear mounting as she realized the gravity of her words. She had never seen Joker like this before, and the sight sent a chill down her spine.

Joker's expression hardened, his features twisting into a mask of barely contained fury. "You think you can just walk away from me?" he spat, his voice dripping with venom.

"I-I can't do this anymore, Joker, please!" she stammered, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and defiance.

Joker's lips curled into a predatory smirk, sending a chill down Y/n's spine. "You knew what you were getting into when you kissed me, Doll," he said, his tone dripping with dark amusement. "You can't just walk away now."

Y/n's eyes brimmed with tears, her voice trembling with emotion. "Y-you don't understand, Joker... I'm scared!"

"Of what, Bunny? I ain't touched you," Joker retorted, his tone flippant as he dismissed her fear.

"B-but what if you do? You just killed a group of men outside! How am I any different?" Y/n cried out, her voice breaking as she struggled to contain her fear. "For fuck's sake! You're a criminal, being near you is illegal!"

"Bunny, you need to listen to me right now," Joker said, dropping to his knees before her, gently cradling her face in his hands.

"I would never touch a hair on your body that you didn’t want me to," Joker assured her, his gaze unwavering. "And the law? Pft! Forget about it... This city was fucked before I came along. Now, I'm having a play."

Y/n's lip quivered as she absorbed his words.

"And I'll make sure they never lay a finger on you... Imma keep my little Bunny safe," Joker murmured, his voice surprisingly tender.

Overwhelmed by emotions, Y/n burst into tears, collapsing into his chest. Joker enveloped her in his arms, offering comfort. In that moment, she surrendered to her feelings. Despite her efforts to deny it, she couldn't deny the pull she felt towards Joker. She had never experienced such emotions before, and she was unwilling to let go of them now.

As Y/n's tears subsided, she felt Joker's grip loosen. He pulled away slightly, cupping her face in his hands and wiping away her tears with his thumbs.

"You're safe with me, Bunny," Joker reassured her, his gaze soft yet intense.

Y/n nodded, feeling a mix of relief and uncertainty wash over her. She knew she was diving into dangerous waters by allowing herself to be drawn to Joker, but at that moment, she couldn't deny the undeniable connection between them.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Joker planted a sloppy kiss on her forehead, his touch surprisingly tender as he rubbed her arms with his gloved hands. Y/n felt a rush of warmth and comfort flood her senses, despite the chaos surrounding them.

"Let's get you home, Bunny," Joker said softly, his voice carrying a sense of reassurance that eased her anxieties.

She realized that whatever unfolded between them would likely be filled with danger and uncertainty. Yet, in that moment, she found herself surprisingly unfazed by the prospect. The way he made her feel was unlike anything she had experienced before, and for her, that was enough.

For better or for worse, she had chosen to embrace the chaos, to walk alongside the Joker, wherever their twisted journey might lead them.

-

A/N: So yeah, this story became way more cuter than I anticipated and hoped for..oops. I originally wanted this to be more dark and shit with more of the stalker-y kinda shit but I kinda got distracted..by bad So if yous want some more Joker but more unhinged and less cute shit, feel free to request and I may or may not be in the middle of writing a Joker fic that is a bit Dead Dove 👀 (I say may because I have no idea when I will finish writing it) Also, I was listening to Faith No More while writing this, so that's why I added them here. Slay But thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed. 💚

#fanfic #dc joker #health ledger joker x reader #ledger joker x reader #the joker #heath ledger #heath ledger joker #the dark knight #the dark knight trilogy #batman #batman joker #joker x reader #reader insert #reader with anxiety #ooc joker #ooc

[c0eu4]

OP81 | Crash ☁︎

Summary: After the biggest crash of Oscar's life, y/n go to see him at the hospital.

Warning: big crash from Oscar, panic attack

A/N: I really hope this will never happen to him :(

MASTERLIST requests are open

Her teary eyes are focused on the screen. The orange car against the wall, half smashed.

''You ok?'' She hears Oscar's engineer talking to him through her headphones.

He doesn't answer. Her heart beats fast. Very fast. She feels like she's about to break down, but she holds herself back, in case a camera is pointing at her.

''Oscar, are you ok?'' Repeat his engineer. She can hear his breathing, fast. He groaned in pain and finally responded.

''Uhg..I'm..I'm ok.'' She puts her hand over her mouth, no longer able to hold back the tears that flow gently down her cheeks. She cries even more when she sees him trying to get out of his car but he falls back, his arms unable to support his weight.

He finally managed to get out of his car with the help of one of the track agents. His steps are uncertain, he walks towards a stretcher where he is made lie down. He gives the camera a thumb up, but I know he's not doing well.

I quickly wipe away my tears before the camera focuses on me. I see myself, and I want to cry even more. I suddenly remove my headphones and head towards the private McLaren premises. I see the camera follow me for a few seconds then surely change the point of view.

She runs towards his drivers room even though she knows he won't be there. But she needs to be alone, away from the cameras.

She abruptly closes the door behind her and collapses against the wall, crying. She is shaking, like when there's thunder, like when she can't stop laughing, or like when Oscar makes her see the stars.

Her breathing is irregular, she can't stop crying. What if he died in the hospital? What if he's so injured he'll never be able to drive again? What if he gets amnesia and doesn't remember her?

All her thoughts are interrupted by someone knocking on the door.

''y/n? I know you're here.'' She suddenly stops crying and raises her head, tears streaming down her face.

''y/n, it's Nicole. Can I enter ?'' Oscar's mother has always been very kind to her, supporting her in all her projects, even the craziest ones. They have known each other for over seven years now. And she trusts in her.

''I-Its not l-lock..'' Nicole opened the door slowly and entered the room. She comes to see her and sits next to.

''He's alright.'' She said to her, rubbing her back softly as y/n put her head against Nicole's shoulder.

''They take him to the hospital. We can go to see him in less than an hour.'' Y/n nod softly, trying to catch her breath.

''Take deep breaths y/n, he's in good hands.'' Nicole showed her how to breathe as they breathe together. Y/n calm down and stay to chat with Nicole a few more minutes.

They finally get up and directly head towards Nicole's car. They drive pretty fast, Nicole would never have driven so fast in her entire life, but when it comes to her son...

They reach the hospital and are near to run in the corridor to Oscar's room. Once they are in front of the door, Chris waits for them. He took Nicole in his arm and talked to them.

''I waited for you two to see him.''

He entered the room first and Nicole followed him. Y/n do not dare to come in, too afraid.

''I..I will go to see him after you.'' She said to Nicole who nod and smiled at her.

Y/n go back to sit in the corridor, her legs shaking uncontrollably.

Chris and Nicole stay in the room for less than ten minutes but it feels like one hour for her. They finally get out as she quickly gets up walking towards them.

''Is he o-'' Chris cuts her off.

''I think he really needs to see you.'' He looks at her with a firm but also a sweet look.

She didn't think twice and entered the room. When she sees him, in his hospital bed and an IV on his arm, she wants to cry even more.

''Y/n..'' He moans in pain. She approached him, crying again.

''Don't cry sweetheart.'' She takes his hand in her and rubs it with her thumb. He didn't waste his time and put his arms around her hips, pulling her in a comfortable hug. He hides his head against her chest, breathing in her scent. She slides her hand through his hair, caressing his scalp.

''I'm sorry for scared you.'' She heard a little snob and she wanted to cry with him. But she knows she has to keep her head up for him, to not worry him even more.

''It's ok kitty. It happens.'' He cried even more. He loves when she calls him kitty.

''Don't be mad at me baby.'' He blames himself so much. He blames himself for not knowing how to manage his car and for scaring everyone. Especially her.

''I can't be mad at you my love.'' She reassured him, even if her voice was shaking.

They separate from each other and y/n sits on the bed, Oscar putting his head on her lap. She keeps talking to him, with sweet and encouraging words.

''It's ok kitten, you're safe now. And you'll be ok.''

''I disappointed all my fans.''

''You especially worried them.''

''I'm sorry.''

''Don't say sorry. It's not your fault.''

''I lost the car.''

''It happens.''

''I almost died.''

''You're overthinking Osc.''

He sighs and closes his eyes. She passes her fingers through his hair, playing with some of his strands.

''try to sleep. You need rest.''

He kisses her lap and quickly, she can hear little snores coming from him.

She looks at him and finally breaks down. She cried softly, trying to be quiet to not wake him up. His parents come into the room and her mother comes to take y/n in her arms. She cried quietly with her, caressing her son's face.

''Thank you y/n'' She looks at Oscar's father, in incomprehension.

''Thank you for being here for him.''

She just nods and her looks go back to the sweet face of Oscar.

After what seems to be hours, Oscar finally gets up. His head was against y/n shoulder, herself laying against him. Her left arm was behind his neck and her right arm was on his chest.

She looks at him and smiles, trying to comfort him again.

''You feel better?'' She asked him, caressing his cheek.

''I can't feel my body.'' She giggles.

''They drugged you with morphine.'' He laughed loudly.

''I feel like I'm drunk.'' She laughed too as Chris looked at them, amused.

''Can I take a picture of you two ? We need to tell people that you're safe Oscar.''

Oscar laughed again. ''If you want so daddy ahaha.''

Oscar never called his dad 'daddy'. And Chris sighs in amusement. He takes his phone in his hand.

''Oscar smiles for the pictures.'' I put my arms around his neck and smile for the camera. Oscar puts his thumbs in the air and smiles with all his teeth.

Chris laughed at the picture and showed it to us. I laughed too while Oscar started to play with my fingers. He bites it and I groans in pain.

''Oscaaar, you look like you smoked something.''

''Uhmmm maybe I dooo???'' He looks up at me with his little puppy eyes.

All good things end well. Even if Oscar looks like someone drunk.

#oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri #nicole piastri #heart eyes piastri #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #fluff

[loveinhawkins]

ao3

Steve hears Eddie’s voice in The Upside Down.

It starts when they reach the vine infested attic of the Creel House, after they’ve lured the bats into the woods with a trail of fire, made them drowsy and stupid before setting them all ablaze; like a fucked up fairy ring, Steve had thought, and it had felt like exactly the kind of thing Eddie would think, and Steve’s trying to hold onto the words so he can remember to tell Eddie later; he wants to tell him—

He’s halfway up the stairs, stepping over a vine when he hears it.

“Shit. Oh, shit,” Eddie breathes.

He sounds so close, like he’s whispering in Steve’s ear.

And then he’s gone, and Steve’s turning to see Nancy and Robin just a step behind him—they haven’t heard anything, he can tell, but they both freeze for a moment, like they can read the fear on his face, something’s wrong, something’s really wrong.

But they all keep going, one step then another, and Steve thinks of history class, of soldiers going over the top.

He prays. Please, please…

More stairs. The door to the attic. Steve opens it.

Eddie’s voice again, high pitched and frightened. “H-hey, listen, man, you don’t—”

The sound is cut off abruptly; Steve feels a touch to the back of his hand. Robin.

He hands her the lighter, but he can see her hesitate out the corner of his eye, are you okay?

He shakes his head once, no time, and he smells a rag soaked with fuel when the voice comes again, still so desperately afraid, but hardening at the edges, “Oh, Jesus Chr—stop!”

“Steve.” Nancy next to him, eyebrows drawn.

There’s a Molotov cocktail in his hand that he can’t remember lighting.

Steve throws it.

He doesn’t even look to see if his aim is true, because Eddie is back, and his voice still shakes but there’s steel in its core, and Steve knows that all too well, knows the exact place it comes from: thinks of standing his ground in ‘84, knowing deep in his bones that it was down to him, that he’d do anything so long as the kids—

“Get away from them. I’m not—I’m not fucking messing around here, get away—”

Robin throws a bottle of her own; the flames soar, and Steve hears a new voice, dark and commanding—one he’s heard across the basketball court, but never quite like this.

“And the devil that deceived them was cast into the lake of fire and brimstone—”

Nancy aims the gun.

“—where the beast and the false prophet are—”

Fires.

“—and shall be tormented day and night—”

Again.

“—forever and ever.”

Nancy steps forward, takes aim once more.

And Steve hears another pair of footsteps, someone running; he turns towards the sound, towards the door, and for a moment it’s almost as if he can feel Eddie rush past him like a ghost—wants to reach out, to grab his hand, but the sensation slips away like smoke; he’s too far away, he’s too…

Nancy takes the final shot. Henry Creel’s body shifts from something monstrous to something that’s smaller and human, but no less terrible for it.

Steve doesn’t watch. Can’t rid the feeling that it all rings false.

He can’t hear Eddie anymore. Can’t hear anything apart from the frantic thud of his own heartbeat, but that’s good, that’s good, he can work with that—lets it drive him forward, lets pure instinct take over so he’s grabbing the axe without a thought, swinging so it hits the vines still tangled on the wall, dormant, dead.

They break easily. Steve keeps going; there’s the barest hint of resistance, but all it tells him is that he’s on the right path, and then something gives, parts…

“Nance,” Steve says.

She’s right by him; he feels her hand around his wrist. From the way she squeezes tightly, knows that she’s already understood.

“Okay,” she says, fragile, “okay, okay.” A shuddering breath. “Steve, I can’t just—I have to—”

“I know,” Steve says softly, because he feels it, too: the awful thought that it’s all over too quickly. Senses Nancy’s anxiety as if it was his own, the desperate need to check, to stand vigil. Then—and only then—will she declare it over to herself.

He holds her hand, squeezes back. Lets go.

There’s movement to the left of him. Robin, her hair in her eyes, and that’s gonna bug her eventually, so Steve fixes it for her, tries to smile, to make this easy.

“Five minutes, okay?” he says—thinks of the elevator in Starcourt, how she counted the seconds passing with freakish accuracy. “No more.”

She opens her mouth, but Steve keeps talking before she can. “Promise me.”

She goes to shake her head.

“Robin, please,” he says, voice breaking.

Years ago, his mom got a phone call about the fatal car crash his uncle had been in. She’d picked up somewhere in between the second ring and the third, and then she’d screamed, and Steve had overheard without understanding—had still felt the echo of her grief.

He’s never told anyone that. But he wonders if Robin can see something of it on his face—that he’s stuck: still in between rings, the split second before the scream—because she’s nodding suddenly, close to tears, but so serious.

“I—I promise, Steve.”

He slips through the Gate in the wall, leaves them both behind—all he has to soothe him is a gut feeling, as the heat of Nancy setting the vines alight fades away: that The Upside Down is just a graveyard now. That there’s no danger to be found—not anymore.

Not in there.

He steps into the attic, where the floorboards are bare. Looks around sharply—Lucas and Max, huddled in the corner, and he can’t tell, he can’t tell if—

As Steve runs to them, a soft click filters through. Max, rewinding her tape; she’s not even looking at her Walkman, like she’s not even aware that she’s doing it. The headphones lie around her neck.

“Oh, thank God,” Steve finds himself whispering, gets one hand on Max, the other on Lucas, “thank God, thank God.”

They shake under his touch. Steve wants to shield them from every horror in existence, wants to swear to them that it’s over now, that they don’t have to do it anymore, but he has to—

“Where’s Eddie?”

It’s not a surprise when Max’s eyes dart to the door. Steve’s stomach drops anyway.

Lucas speaks, voice ragged, “Jason, he…”

And as Steve looks at him, the kid’s thirteen again, eyes wide with fear in the face of Billy Hargrove. You’re dead, Sinclair.

Steve pushes back a hot swell of anger. Hugs Lucas roughly, then Max, murmurs, “Okay, it’s okay. Stay right here. Nancy and Robin are coming, I promise.”

“Steve,” Max whispers when he’s at the door.

He turns back.

But it’s like she’s run out of words, shivering in Lucas’s arms. Still rewinding the tape, but her fingers are slipping now.

Lucas speaks for her—eyes off to the side, like he’s seeing something more than a Gate in the wall. “He had a gun.”

Steve checks a couple rooms, floorboards creaking no matter how quiet he tries to be. His heart’s still racing. It leads him to the staircase.

And Eddie’s right there, just a few steps down.

There’s the faint screech of a car driving away.

Eddie looks up at him. He’s standing obliquely, clinging to the bannister. His eyes shine in the dark, and Steve can just barely make out the evidence of bruises and cuts all across his face.

“He’s gone,” Eddie says with such relief.

I’ll kill him, Steve thinks numbly.

”I, um. I had to run,” Eddie continues, almost like he’s defending himself. “He—he wouldn’t listen, man. The kids, I… I couldn’t let him—”

“They’re fine,” Steve says, talks right over Eddie’s answering sigh, “we should go back up. Check on them.”

A pause.

“Yeah,” Eddie says. “Sure. Think I—think I just need a second.”

“Okay.”

Eddie smiles. It’s the worst thing Steve has ever seen.

“Did it work?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, his throat tight. The word is ash on his tongue. “Yeah, it worked. It’s finished.”

“Good.” Eddie inhales. “And you’ll—you’ll tell my uncle, right? Tell him I didn’t kill Chrissy.”

“Tell him yourself,” Steve snaps.

But Eddie’s shaking his head. Steve can visibly see the adrenaline draining from him: his arms shaking as his grip on the bannister falters.

“Nah, man,” Eddie says, his voice thick and wet with tears.

“Stop fucking crying,” Steve says, instantly ashamed as the words slip out—fear rendering him sharp and mean; Eddie’s hand slips, and he turns, “Oh my God,” Steve says uselessly, “Oh my God, Eddie,” because it’s not a dawning horror really, more a realisation that they’ve both been putting off.

Maybe Steve has known all along.

He gets hold of Eddie before he can fall, mutters, “Here, I’ve got—Jesus, just lie down.”

“No, I don’t—” Eddie kicks out aimlessly, panicking, “I don’t wanna lie down, I don’t wanna lie down.”

Steve ignores him. Presses down on Eddie’s abdomen, hands already slick with blood.

Eddie is hyperventilating. He keeps saying it, “I don’t wanna lie down,” until it devolves into just, “Steve, Steve, I don’t want to,” until it doesn’t sound like he’s talking about lying down at all.

“You won’t,” Steve says, “you won’t, Eddie, just—push down, okay? You’ve got to—here, here, just push—”

Eddie’s hands are slack in his, and as Steve pushes against him, harder, harder, he cries out, breathing so shallow, so quick, too quick, “I’m sorry,” Steve whispers, “I’m sorry, Eddie, I’m so sorry.”

He thinks Eddie must be in too much pain to understand—his body still spasming, still weakly fighting against Steve’s pressure.

But then he feels Eddie’s hand move, loosely clasp around his wrist.

“It’s okay,” Eddie says, still crying, but Steve can hear him smiling somehow, fuck, how can he even—?, “hey, S-Steve, it’s okay. Just—just want to go home.” He’s rambling, almost incoherent, “It’s not that far, it’s—take me home, please, please, can you take me home, just—”

“I will,” Steve lies. “We need to fix this first, okay? Eddie, are you listening? Then we can…”

He trails off at the sight of Eddie looking up at him, his eyes so big, so full of life, and Steve doesn’t understand the expression on his face, doesn’t think he’s ever seen him look like this; and he wants Eddie to explain it to him, just wants him to talk, wants to…

I want to tell him, Steve thinks nonsensically.

“Steve Harrington,” Eddie murmurs, like he’s savouring Steve’s name. “You’re so…”

But Steve will never find out what he is, the rest of the sentence lost to a pained gasp.

“Don’t talk,” Steve says. Hates how harsh he sounds. “Eddie, just. Stay.”

Eddie smiles through blood. “I think I could’ve loved you.”

Steve hears movement from way above, a door slamming open, Robin and Nancy’s voices filtering down, still too far away to understand.

He could keep talking. Keep talking to Eddie.

But he knows.

The front door opens. Erica tears through it, screaming Lucas’s name, and then she stops in her tracks.

Dustin nearly collides with her from behind. Pulls her back, face slack with horror.

Steve leans over Eddie, desperately trying to shield him from them.

Dustin’s eyes meet Steve’s, over bright with fear; Steve thinks of him freezing in the graveyard, his own panicked shout, call Nancy and Robin!

He doesn’t want it to be too late.

“Call an ambulance,” Steve says, and Dustin’s eyes widen. He doesn’t sound remotely like himself, Steve knows, but he can barely even… Can only say it again, voice breaking horribly, “Call an ambulance!”

Dustin tugs Erica back. They run.

Steve stays right where he is. Looks down, and keeps looking—doesn’t turn away, not for anything, not even when it’s obvious that Eddie’s eyes are fixed and glassy.

He will bear witness to this.

#this has been haunting me (warnings info on ao3) #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steve and the party #eddie and the party

[blogfullofemos]

My Look Precedes Me

Based from this picture:

Synopsis: You're sitting on Eddie's bed with nothing but homework dispersed around you. And well... Baby has been in the corner... FOR FAR TOO LONG!!!

Word Count: 1k+

Warning: explicit words and a lot of angst. Italics is for flashbacks. I also believe that Eddie is very anxiety ridden, like moi. So yeah. Do what you will with that lol. Also has been proofread multiple times. (I wanna give you the best of the best okay 🥲)

Pairing: Eddie Munson + female reader

Lastly thank you so so so so so much for the shockingly amazing amount of feedback I received on my last 2 Eddie Munson blurbs. Thank you for the hearts, reblogs, and follows. Also I love the commentary cuz yes this man indeed drives me feral. But at times, he's just like me. 😭 Enjoy and let me know how you feel darling.

Eddie’s antsy. Eddie’s pissed. Better yet, if he has to deal with this any longer!! Eddie’s going to bring the upside down, downside up!! Or however the fuck they would reverse it. Sitting on a bean bag at the corner of his room, Eddie blatantly stares at you with furrowed brows. Wearing nothing but his favorite, black-ripped skinny jeans, his right leg bounces rapidly. His guitar resting still from the action as his hands fidgets all around it. Rolling his brown eyes, he presses his hand against his bottom lip to bite at the skin. Trying his best to distract himself from his fuming impatience. 

     For 2 and a half weeks, you’ve been…. Distant. And with no reason. The first week you started to make conversations between you two short, didn’t acknowledge when he wanted to make you the priority, and lastly you didn’t answer his phone calls. At all. You’re his girlfriend, right? Obsessively he checked if you still sported his guitar pick necklace. His heart finding some semblance of solace, as he watched your habit of twirling the pick between your fingers when talking to others, never stopped. 

“Hey… Uh-umm are we o-okay?” he asks shakily. With his hands in his pockets, he picks at the skin on his fingers. Clammy, heart burning, and thoughts racing for the worst; he kept his focus trained on the gravel crunch of his shoes. Never wanting you to see the fear anticipating to implode if his assumptions rang true. “You’re too in your head, Eds.” you giggle softly. Trying to break the unnerving silence, you scatter tiny rocks with a kick but nothing changes. You give it a few more steps. “Eddie?” you say, looking beside you with worry. Taken aback, you whip your head to look behind you. With a 4ft distance, Eddie stood still. His curls lightly drift with the wind as his head remains drooped. ‘Then why didn’t you notice I stopped? You must be in your head too.’ he thinks as a sniffle betrays him. In an instant, he hears you drop the scholarly books you held close to you and run towards him. “Eddie, baby..”, “Eds you’ve done nothing wrong..”, “Baby its me, not you okay.” you rush out. And with perfect deflection, you kissed him deeply.

      The 2nd week was pure Hell. You made it your mission to not cross paths anytime during class hours, and when it came to lunch. You would just sit next to him, hold his hand, and if he was lucky you would laugh at a joke he made. Eye contact was the least of your worries.

“Sooo what’s happening here?” Steve abruptly asks as he dips his french fry into ketchup. Sitting across from you at the table, Steve quirks his brow at you as your focus snaps to him. Successfully cutting your convo with Robin down completely.  “What do you mean?” you laugh off.

“Well Lisa needs me.” Robin announces, quickly freeing herself from the table. Your eyebrow raises at her sudden departure, but she just smiles and waves before scurrying to whatever table Lisa is at. Who even is Lisa? You don’t realize Eddie profusely shaking his head at Steve, before smacking his hand on his face as Steve clears his throat. “You and Eddie.” you look at Eddie with confusion. With his hand covering his mouth and nose flared, he just stares at Steve. “Something’s off.” Steve finishes, biting his ketchup covered french fry. Eddie squeezes your intertwined hand with his, needing to break your inquisitive eyes from his teetering restraint. Even if it was just for a moment. Steve chuckles, “I mean…” he takes another bite to a fry “Why are you-?”

“Steve. Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” Eddie warns, trying his best to keep his hands at where they were.

“No. Munson. It’s… “ Steve slowly pushes the styrofoam plate aside, contemplating his next words wisely. Your eyes searched for what was to come out of Steve's mouth, but he sighs. “You are no Madonna.” Steve points at you, “And YOU!!” he points at Eddie “Are no Sean Penn!!”. In seconds your jaw drops, milk splatters onto Steve as Eddie tosses its small carton at his head, and Steve is now over the table grappling Eddie.

    The taste of iron seeps within his mouth as he recollects himself from his triggering memories. Slapping his hands on each side of his bean bag chair, he shoots himself off of it. Quickly catching his guitar from falling, he swiftly places its strap on his shoulder. “I wrote a song for you.” he says heated, snatching the sheet you were filling out and crumbling it. 

“EDS!!” you yell out in shock, trying to snatch the balled-up paper from him but he puts it in his mouth. Before you could even say anything, he scratches his pick against his guitar strings. The scratchy sounds reverberating throughout his room loudly, since he always has his amp on max. Chewing the paper, he strums a quick solo, spitting the saliva-soaked blob at you. Disgusted you watch him headbang to a heavy riff, “WHY ARE YOU DRAGGING ME ALONG, SO FUCKING HIGH STRUNG, ANOTHER DAY OF THIS AND WE’LL BE DONE!!” he bursts out, strumming his guitar strings like he was punching it. 

    Your heart sank as he continues the angry riff, his brown eyes twitching as tears slowly begin to creep their way out. “LOVE YOU BUT IT JUST SEEMS TO BE FUN, YEAH EDDIE, THAT’S A GOOD ONE!! DOES SHE LOVE YOU, DOES SHE EVEN KNOW WHAT SHE WANTS!!” he continues. The vein in his neck protrudes from how loud he was screaming. You nibble on your bottom lip, your eyes welling up, but Eddie didn’t care to stop. Because when did you ever 'cared' to stop? Your intense stare never once faltering as he stalks towards your laid-back body. “CUZ IF SHE WANTS TO UP AND R-.” his voice cracks as his eyes winces, heavy tears running down his cheeks. His nose flares as he struggles to breathe, his hands not keeping up the harsh tempo. Opening his mouth, you scream “MY PARENTS ARE PLANNING TO SEND ME AWAY!!”.

“What?” Steve says, thrown back and silencing his guitar strings eerie screeching. Finally, you explain your past actions followed by a full blown breakdown. Believing you were invincible, your father always seemed to catch you in an act. And this one labelled you his grandest mistake. During a rage fit, “NO DAUGHTER OF MINE WILL BE WITH A DRUGGED-OUT LOSER!!” you repeated to Eddie. Causing Eddie to turn away from you, walk a few steps away, and plop on the end of his bed. Your father gave you an ultimatum. If you chose Eddie, he would send you away to live with your great grandmother. Well more like take care of your prudish great-grandmother. But if you chose different, then life goes as usual. And the only way he knew you weren't seeing Eddie, is if you focused on getting your grades up. Eddie looks up to his ceiling, bemused on how oblivious he was in all of this. The puzzle finally putting itself together.

     “BUT- but I choose you Eddie.” you cry, quickly placing your hand on top of his. Eddie stared at the walls while you vented out your frustration, silently crying. He hates your dad. But he understood his smothering defense. If they were to reverse roles, he would've done the same. But God he felt so wrong for placing all of his pent-up rage towards you. It wasn’t you who was pulling away, it was your family prying you off of him. Broken, he finally looks at you with soaked lashes, “A drugged-out loser huh.” he sadly repeats your father’s remark. You pout. Bringing him close, you rest his head on your chest. The strong sound of your heart beat causing him to sob.

As it was the first time he ever heard a precious thing give texture to his ostracized existence.

#stranger things eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things season 4 #stranger things #special guest steve harrington #with another special guest robin buckley #eddie munson angst #rocker eddie munson #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson boyfriend

[talkdutchtome]

Glitch- chapter nine

pairing . . . max verstappen x reader / mason mount x reader )

summary . . . when mason mount finds out that his assistant has been harbouring feelings for him for years, he makes it clear he doesn't feel the same way. but once he sees her become closer with formula 1 world champion max verstappen, he realises he may have underestimated his feelings towards the girl he has now pushed into the arms of another )

genre . . . angst )

song . . . glitch- taylor swift )

series masterlist . . . available here )

a/n . . . endlessly sorry for how long its been, but i'm back now and we're straight back into tooth rotting fluff <3 )

The dull and familiar sound of the iphone ringtone pulled Y/N abruptly from her nap, she groggily reached for device that woke her so rudely, blinking away the remnants of sleep as she saw Reece's name on the caller ID. 

"Hey, Reece. What's up?" she mumbled, still half-asleep. 

"Hi, Y/N," came Reece's voice, surprisingly serious. "Did you seriously go to Monaco? With Max?" 

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. "Um, yeah," she admitted, unsure where this line of questioning was leading. 

"Are we, like, real friends now? Not just, like, mutual friends through Mason?" Reece's question was direct, leaving no room for evasion. The haziness of her nap now long forgotten.  

Y/N hesitated, caught off guard by the abruptness of the inquiry. "I... I guess so," she replied tentatively. 

Reece didn't mince his words in response. "Does Max know that you and Mason slept together?" 

Y/N could literally feel her heart sink. She wasn't prepared for this confrontation, especially not with Reece, she didn’t even know how he knew about that. 

"I, uh... I don't know what you're talking about," she stammered, attempting to deflect. 

"Cut the bullshit, Y/N," Reece snapped, his usually easygoing demeanor replaced by an uncharacteristic sharpness. 

Y/N's breath caught in her throat. She'd never heard Reece speak like this before, and it rattled her.  

"Okay, fine," she relented, her voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, he knows. He came to visit me that night and he could tell something was up and sussed it out, and we decided I should come to Monaco to give... whatever we have a chance. Away from M- away from distractions." 

There was a heavy silence on the other end of the line, and Y/N braced herself for Reece's response. She couldn't shake the feeling of vulnerability, exposed by Reece's penetrating questions. 

Finally, Reece spoke, his tone softer now. "I understand, Y/N. I hope you figure out what you want." 

As Y/N ended the call, she took a moment to collect herself, the weight of Reece's words settling over her like a heavy blanket. She knew she couldn't evade the consequences of her choices, no matter how much she wished she could. 

The soft knock on the door stirred Y/N from her reverie, and she quickly composed herself before answering. As Max entered, his concern was evident in the furrow of his brow and the gentle tone of his voice. 

"Hey, Y/N. How'd you sleep? Is the room okay for you?" Max inquired, his eyes scanning her face for any sign of distress. 

Y/N managed a small smile, grateful for his consideration. "I slept fine, thank you. And the room is lovely, really," she replied, her voice soft but genuine. 

Max nodded, seemingly satisfied with her response. "Good to hear. So, who were you talking to on the phone earlier?" he asked casually, his curiosity piqued. 

Y/N hesitated for a moment, unsure how much to reveal. "Oh, just Reece," she replied, hoping to brush off the conversation. 

Max arched an eyebrow, sensing her reluctance to elaborate. "What did he want?" he pressed gently, his gaze unwavering. 

Y/N swallowed hard, knowing she couldn't avoid the truth. "He... he was asking if it was true that I came here," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. 

Max's expression softened at her words, a flicker of understanding passing between them. "Oh, how did he know that?" he inquired, his tone gentle but probing. 

Y/N closed her eyes briefly, steeling herself for the admission. "Mason," she murmured, the name heavy with unspoken implications. 

The mention of Mason hung in the air like an unwelcome guest, casting a shadow over the room and injecting a palpable tension into the atmosphere. Y/N felt a knot form in her stomach at the mere sound of his name, a stark reminder of the complicated dynamics that had brought her here. 

For Max, the mention of Mason was like stumbling upon a hidden obstacle in an otherwise smooth path. He couldn't ignore the sudden shift in Y/N's demeanor, the subtle tensing of her shoulders and the guarded look in her eyes. It was a reminder of the delicate balance they were navigating, with Mason's presence looming large over their fledgling connection. 

The silence that followed was thick with unspoken words and unresolved emotions, each of them grappling with their own inner turmoil. Y/N struggled to reconcile her lingering feelings for Mason with the growing attraction she felt for Max, while Max found himself grappling with a sense of unease at the thought of his newfound connection being overshadowed by a past that seemed determined to intrude. 

Max sensed the discomfort radiating from Y/N like a tangible force, and he knew he had to act quickly to alleviate the awkwardness that had settled between them like a heavy shroud. With a subtle shift in his demeanor, he gently changed the subject, his voice carrying a note of reassurance as he reminded her of their upcoming dinner reservations. 

"Hey, um, so, about dinner," he began, his tone light and casual, "We've got reservations in about an hour. Thought we could grab a bite to eat and maybe explore the area a bit afterward. What do you think?" 

His words hung in the air, a lifeline tossed amidst the turbulent sea of emotions that threatened to engulf them. Max watched as Y/N's expression softened ever so slightly, a flicker of relief crossing her features at the prospect of shifting their focus away from the uncomfortable topic at hand. 

"Yeah, that sounds good," she replied, the tension in her voice easing as she welcomed the distraction Max offered. "I could use a nice meal right about now." 

Max offered her a warm smile, his eyes reflecting a silent understanding as he nodded in agreement. "Great. I'll let you get ready then. Just give me a shout when you're good to go, yeah?" 

Y/N nodded in response, a grateful smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she watched Max make his way to the door. As he stepped out into the hallway, she couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for his intuitive nature, for his ability to sense her discomfort and offer her a much-needed reprieve. 

As they drove to the restaurant, Y/N couldn't help but feel a twinge of intimidation as she took in the sleek interior of Max's car, a luxurious vehicle that spoke volumes about the extravagant lifestyle he led. She couldn't help but wonder what it must be like to live in a world filled with such opulence and grandeur, feeling a bit out of place amidst its lavishness. 

Upon arriving at the restaurant, however, her apprehension began to dissipate as she noticed the quaint charm of the place. It was a cozy little spot, far from the flashy extravagance she had expected, and she found herself feeling more at ease as they entered. 

They were greeted by a sweet, elderly couple who seemed to know Max well, exchanging warm greetings and friendly banter as if he were an old friend. Y/N couldn't help but smile at the genuine affection they showed him, feeling a sense of warmth wash over her as they complimented her appearance. 

"Max, my boy, you've outdone yourself this time! Who's this lovely lady you've brought with you?" the elderly gentleman chuckled, his eyes twinkling mischievously as he teased Max. 

Max chuckled sheepishly, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush as he introduced Y/N to the couple. "This is Y/N, and she's far too good for the likes of me," he joked, though there was a sincerity in his voice that made Y/N's heart skip a beat. 

As they were led to their table, she couldn't help but notice the remnants of a slight blush on Max's cheeks, a sight that caused her heart to flutter with an unexpected surge of affection. Sitting across from him, she found herself captivated by the way his eyes sparkled with a hint of excitement, his smile lighting up the room as they settled in for their meal. 

During dinner, Max and Y/N found themselves immersed in a discussion about their respective childhoods, sharing stories and anecdotes that offered glimpses into their pasts. 

"So, Y/N, tell me about your family," Max prompted, his curiosity piqued as he leaned forward, eager to learn more about her background. 

Y/N's eyes sparkled with fond memories as she began to speak. "Well, I come from a big family," she started, a warm smile gracing her lips. "I have three siblings – two sisters and a brother – and we're all really close. Growing up, our house was always bustling with activity, and there was never a dull moment." 

Max listened intently, captivated by her description of a lively household filled with love and laughter. "That sounds wonderful," he remarked, a hint of admiration in his voice. "What was it like being the oldest?" 

Y/N chuckled, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "It definitely had its challenges," she admitted, "but it also taught me responsibility and the importance of looking out for others. I always felt like I had to set a good example for my siblings, and that's something that's stuck with me throughout my life." 

As their conversation continued, Y/N turned the spotlight on Max, asking him about his own family and upbringing. Max shared stories of his childhood, delving into what it was like to grow up in a very driven household, where he spent so much of his time as a kid karting and preparing for a career in Formula One.  

After their delightful dinner, Max suggested they visit Le Rocher, a spot where they could admire the breathtaking views of Monaco's old town. As they strolled along, Y/N couldn't help but be mesmerized by the picturesque scenery unfolding before her. 

"It's stunning," she breathed, her eyes sweeping over the panoramic vista. 

Max nodded in agreement, a soft smile playing on his lips. "This is one of my favorite places to come when I need a break from the racing world," he confessed. "Here, I can just be Max." 

Y/N listened, soaking in the tranquility of the moment as they shared a quiet conversation, the gentle evening breeze carrying their words away into the night. 

As they reached a particularly scenic spot, Max mentioned Daniel's persistent encouragement to start a jpeg Instagram account like his. "He's always on my case about it," Max chuckled, turning to face Y/N. "But I've been thinking... what do you say we do a little impromptu photoshoot?" 

Y/N's initial hesitation melted away at the sight of Max's infectious enthusiasm. "Sure, why not?" she replied with a grin. 

With Max behind the camera, they embarked on a playful photoshoot, capturing candid moments and genuine smiles against the backdrop of Monaco's twinkling lights. As they laughed and joked together, time seemed to stand still, and Y/N found herself immersed in the simple joy of being in Max's company. 

As the night wore on and the early hours of the morning approached, they reluctantly called an end to their impromptu adventure. But as they made their way back to Max's apartment, the memory of their laughter lingered, a testament to the undeniable connection they shared. And as they bid each other goodnight, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling that perhaps, in each other, they had found something truly special. 

Throughout the week in Monaco, Max and Y/N embarked on a series of adventures that seemed to draw them closer with each passing day. Max took her out on a yacht ride, where they basked in the warmth of the Mediterranean sun and marveled at the azure waters surrounding them. They went swimming and jet skiing, reveling in the exhilaration of the open sea. 

One evening, Max surprised Y/N by cooking dinner for her, showcasing his culinary skills with a delicious meal prepared with care. As they dined together, sharing stories and laughter, it felt like they were in their own little world, untouched by the complexities of reality. 

With each passing moment, the bond between them deepened, and Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging whenever she was with Max. In his company, she felt understood and cherished, as if being around each other was something that was meant to be. 

Despite the idyllic moments they shared, Y/N couldn't shake the lingering thoughts of Mason and the tangled web of emotions that still tied her to him. But in the midst of their blissful escapades, she found solace in the simple joy of being with Max, relishing the moments they spent together and cherishing the connection they shared. 

As race week descended upon Monaco, the tranquil days spent with Max swiftly transformed into a whirlwind of excitement and anticipation. Y/N marveled at the seamless transition as Max shifted gears from the laid-back companion of the past week to the determined machine ready to conquer the race track. 

She observed Max navigate through a flurry of press events with effortless charm, amazed at how the sweet man she had grown fond of could seamlessly transform into a focused and driven athlete once he stepped into his race car. 

During practice sessions, Y/N stood in Max's garage, taking in the electrifying atmosphere as mechanics buzzed around, fine-tuning the car to perfection. She engaged in conversation with others in the garage, soaking in the insider's view of the Formula One world. 

When it was time for qualifying, Y/N found herself watching alongside Heidi, Daniel's girlfriend, forming a quick rapport with her as they cheered on their respective partners. The tension mounted as Max pushed the limits, eventually securing pole position in a stunning display of skill and determination. 

As Max emerged from the garage, triumphant and exhilarated, he sought out Y/N amidst the jubilant crowd. To her surprise, he pulled her into a spontaneous embrace, planting a kiss on her lips that left her head spinning. Caught off guard by the unexpected display of affection, Y/N could only watch as the cameras flashed around them, capturing the moment for the world to see. 

As Max hurried off to attend to his press obligations, Y/N remained in a daze, still reeling from the unexpected kiss and the flurry of attention that followed. Lost in her thoughts, she barely noticed the bustling activity around her until her phone suddenly rang, jolting her back to reality. 

Glancing at the caller ID, she was immediately brought back down to earth. She could feel sick rise up to her throat, she found herself wanting the ground to come up and swallow her whole.  

Her phone remained ringing, a picture of her and her best friend filling the screen with the one name she didn’t want to see right now. Mason.  

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#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #formula 1 #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x y/n #mason mount #mason mount x reader #mason mount x y/n #football x reader #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x you #formula one x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fics #footballer x reader #footballer x y/n

[kenmakodz]

CANDID LOVE ˙✧˖📷

02. shitty sushi place ☆

writing in-between cuts!

you sigh, tucking your phone away— they’re way too close now to keep typing about them, it’d be obvious. it will be fine, you think. nobara has hung out with maki and her friends plenty of times; if she gets along with them, so can you!

“hey again!” you wave, walking to meet the duo halfway. the shorter blonde boy is first to acknowledge you, nodding his head as his pace comes to a halt- a greeting, you suppose. maki lazily holds up a hand as if to say hello. “nice to see you again, just on our turf this time huh?” she chuckles on the last word, coaxing you to smile back- intrigued at her way of starting a conversation. “yeah, seems like the tables have turned. it’s much smaller than i expected, though.” you turn to face the boy standing next to her, deciding it would be rude to not introduce yourself. “nice to meet you as well, y/n l/n.” he nods again, “toge inumaki.” his voice is much quieter than you expected, maybe he’s the shy type? or maybe he’s just not interested in talking to you; who knows. 

maki’s tour isn’t very…. detailed. “this is the dining hall, we eat here sometimes.” , “this is the common area that nobody sits in.” , etc etc. to most, this would come off as rude and uninterested. in reality, she actually made you laugh quite a few times. she slipped in jokes here and there, the majority of them being about the wide range of interesting professors she's come across. an honest tour is much better than an over-detailed, over-explanation of every single thing on campus that close to nobody cares about; she reminds you a lot of megumi the whole time. the boy wouldn’t say too much, just some playful banter back and forth with the two of you about certain classes, random places on campus, and the like. it was nice, you thought- not as awkward or as forced as you felt like it would be. maki seemed to be enjoying herself as well, noticing that you laughed whenever she poked at the school for its quirks.

after about an hour of walking around, the three of you seem to halt rather abruptly. you notice the two friends begin texting, so you lean against the building and begin to lazily scroll while they do their own thing.

finally, she looks up, clearly contemplating something. “would you want to come get sushi with us? our other friend, yuuta is on the way too. he’s studying the same thing as you.”

you pause. being invited out with them was the last thing you had expected- when her mouth opened, you were anticipating her to offer walking you back home. the confusion definitely shows on your face, and the boy (who you now know as toge) laughs at your reaction. “you can say no if you don’t want to,” making a mental note to punch yourself for being so awkward later on, you finally respond, starting to laugh along. “im sorry, i don’t know why i reacted like that- i’m honestly starving, that would be great!”

you've gained 3 new followers!

￬ makizen, fortnitegod, y.okkotsu.

fun facts -> yuuta was contemplating skipping his lecture for that sushi all. day. it'd been a while since the three of them went out, and it could be a while before they get to do it again, since work begins to pile up around this time in the year. when he heard about y/n being there, he almost backed out. yuuta hyperfocuses on first-impressions, and showing up sleep deprived after a 2 hour lecture was NOT his idea of a good one.

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[oneshotnewbie]

Emily Prentiss saving reader from an unsub and reader just falls into her arms, sobbing in relief?

ᕚ---ᕘ

In a darkened warehouse in a remote industrial area, the gloomy silence oppressed the air, which was already hard to breathe in due to the thick dust. Emily Prentiss, a supervisory special agent from the Behavioral Analysis Unit, scurried gingerly through the shadowy hallways. Her heartbeat pulsed in her neck vein in harmony with the tension in every fiber of her body. But she had no choice, she was looking for you, a young woman who was the next victim of a notorious serial killer and had potentially been trafficked here.

The dim illumination of the flashlight beneath her drawn weapon bathed the surroundings in a dim light as she lurked and looked around every corner, her weapon tightly gripped in her clammy hands. She had gotten to the middle of the large building when she suddenly heard a faint noise. A stifled whimper under tape or fabric that seemed to come from near an old storage room.

Determined to free you, the black-haired woman moved towards the storage room, her steps deliberate and noiseless. When she reached the door, which was half hanging off its hinges and squeaked gently from the fine blast of air, she listened for a moment before carefully opening it a crack with the barrel of her weapon and shortly afterwards sticking her head through.

Emily's eyes widened in horror and anger as she discovered you tied up and helpless in a dark corner of the room while the suspect, a massive young man with a dark and scowl in his eyes, menacingly approached your powerless body. "FBI! Raise your hands above your head where I can see them!" she shouted with a strong authority in her gravelly voice, her gun unlocked and aimed squarely at the back of the man's head.

The suspect abruptly turned away from you and towards her, a devilish grin on his thin lips, only now did she noticed the shiny silver in his hands. "Agent Prentiss. You're too late to save this pretty thing. She'll be my next trophy and you'll get to watch so it eats you up inside that you couldn't save her in time."

Emily, however, remained calm, her eyes sparkling with determination to free you from the clutches of this monster and get you to safety. “Put the knife down and slowly step away from the woman,” the man in front of her just laughed scornfully and looked back at you for a second. You tried to squeeze yourself deeper into the corner, the look in his eyes deadly. You were panicking. You were afraid for your life. "You won't get in my way, Prentiss. Last time you interfered with my plans and the woman got away. But not this time,"

With a quick movement, he tightened the knife in his hand and rushed towards her, ready to attack and hurt her. But the agent reacted quickly and, as she had learned, ducked skillfully to the side and fired three shots, which, due to her sway in her balance, hit the ground just next to the attacker. The man flinched and frightened for a moment, but his resolve to stop her from saving you seemed undiminished.

In an all-too-quick turn of events, he leapt forward from his crouched position towards her, knife raised high, forcing Emily into an intense hand-to-hand combat. She couldn't use her pistol from such close range. The risk was too high, even for an experienced shooter like her, to hit you and injure or even kill you with one shot. However, her hand-to-hand combat training and experience gave her the advantage over him, but the man was a fierce opponent who would not let go of her until he got what he wanted.

A quick slash of the knife cut the skin above the collarbone, but the agent gritted her teeth and withstood him, her determination to save you unwavering. In a strong counterattack, she cleverly turned to face her, took advantage of the man's open attack area and brought him down, along with herself. She overpowered him and now sat on his thighs, forcing him to drop the knife by grabbing his upper arm and hitting it multiple times on the cold concrete floor before she secured him with handcuffs.

Emily was breathing heavily, the pain in her shoulder was throbbing and the blood was flowing down her dark blue blouse, but her eyes quickly darted to you, who was still cowering in fear in the corner. She quickly freed you from the restraints, pulled the tape from your mouth and hugged you protectively while you fell into her strong arms, sobbing in relief. She was desperately trying to calm you down with gentle words. "It's over, sweetie. You're safe."

More police sirens and their team approached their position in the warehouse as Emily, continuing to ignore her sore shoulder, carefully led you out of the darkness. You shivered uncontrollably in her arms as the cold night air enveloped you, but you also felt a soothing warmth as you clung to your rescuer.

The emotions that overwhelmed you and dragged every fiber of your body into a deep quagmire left you struggling to breathe, and tears began to stream inexorably down your cheeks. Emily pulled you closer to her, feeling the tremble on the side of her body and your pulse beating wildly in your arms as she held you gently. "It's over. You're safe and nothing can happen to you anymore."

Her words were a distant echo in your head as you sobbed desperately, the weight of fear and agony of the last day released in an overwhelming torrent of tears. Your legs felt weak, like you couldn't take another step, but Emily supported you gently, her presence like an anchor in the middle of a violent storm at sea.

The environment around you seemed to fade and you were unsure of your voice, however a few words came out quietly between the sobs, barely audible but full of gratitude and deep relief that Emily had saved you. "Thank you, Agent Prentiss. Thank you for helping me. I thought I would never get out of there alive again."

"That's my job, sweetie. I loved doing it," Emily hugged you gently again, her own heart heavy with compassion. She stroked your back soothingly while a gentle kiss touched your hair. "You've been brave and now you're here and I'm with you. It's over."

The minutes passed as you slowly came out of shock and regained your composure. Your breaths became deeper and slower, your heart calmed and its pulse rate normalized. Emily continued to hold you gently in her arms by the ambulance steps, supporting you until your tears stopped and you were assessed by the paramedics. “Can I go home please?” You murmured in a shaky voice, looking up at her, your eyes red and tired.

The agent nodded gently and stood, lending you a hand to hold you before leading you to her car that was parked nearby. You felt exhausted but also relieved as you sank into the passenger seat of the car, Emily standing by your side.

The drive to your home was filled with a calming silence as Emily made sure to bring you cheerfully back to your family. Only when she sat down on the top steps of your family home and convinced herself that you were safe from now on and were being looked after by trustworthy hands did she leave the house. But not without giving you her private number first so you could call her when you needed someone to talk to.

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss imagine #emily prentiss imagines #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds angst #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #oneshot #imagines #imagine #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #writeblr #writers of tumblr #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss fic #criminal minds oneshot #criminal minds fiction

[tofics]

Out Of This World

Chapter 1

Masterlist

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x fem!Reader x Dean Winchester

Summary: You and the Mikaelsons are fighting a powerful witch that's trying to take over New Orleans. The only solution: banishment to another universe. However, the spell goes... wrong, and it's not the witch that ends up in another universe, but you. - At the same time, over a thousand miles away in a bunker in Lebanon, Kansas, an alarm goes off: a rift has opened up. The Winchesters and their angel partners in crime decide to investigate. What will they find when they get to New Orleans?

Word count: 4949 words

Warnings: cursing, violence, murder, mention of blood, allusions of panic attacks.

You skidded around the corner, barely missing a stack of cardboard boxes by an inch. You jumped around it, almost flying past the pile. Your blood was rushing in your ears, your heart almost jumping out of your chest, pumping the adrenaline through your body. Behind you, you heard the evil snicker of your persecutor, hard on your heels. Before you knew it, you reached a wall that cut off your path abruptly. A dead end. You were cornered.

Slowly, you turned around. There she was, a sneer cutting across her face. Despite the few feet between you, you could see the glint in her dark eyes. Again, the witch laughed triumphantly.

"Really? An evil laugh for an evil witch? How terribly cliché," you pressed out between two wheezes. There was a sharp stitch on your right side. Running had never been your thing anyway. You leaned down and rested your hands on your knees while trying to catch your breath. Once this is over, you really have to get into better shape, you told yourself.

The witch was still sneering at you, taking her sweet time to make a move on you. You could imagine that she was enjoying this thoroughly. What started as a challenge for power, trying to dethrone Niklaus and his siblings as rulers of the French Quarter, had resulted in a bloody, messy, magical war. For months, she had been threatening the Mikaelsons and everyone that stood by them. Where threats didn't work, death followed. Quite a few of the Mikaelson's closest followers and allies had lost their lives to the woman in front of you, and yet, you were sure to rank high on her win list: as Elijah's girlfriend, she'd probably enjoy your death a lot more than any of her previous kills. This particular death would strike them hard. Shake them to the core. Possibly - hopefully - destabilize them to a point where they'd fall apart from within and she could easily pluck them apart, one by one, until all of the siblings where gone.

"Not even a true Mikaelson, and yet you're just as snarky as the rest of them. What an obnoxious trait. So full of yourself, all of you. It's a disease. But, not to worry. I'll have that cured in no time," the witch quipped back at you, with so much sweetness in her voice that it made you gag.

"Who's full of herself now?" you muttered to yourself. The sorceress in front of you tsk-ed at you and got into casting stance. She reached into her cloak and brought a fistful of something to her mouth before blowing into her closed fist. Black dust spewed out from between her fingers and hung in the air in front of her like black glitter. You straightened at the sight of her palms turning towards you, the first few words of a spell that was sure to bring you death (and a painful one at that) slowly meandering out from between her lips like a snake, inching itself towards its victim relentlessly.

Okay, feel free to intervene any second now, you thought, trying not to glance around for the rescue that you knew was coming. This plan had been weeks in the making and you weren't about to foil it by giving anything away by accident. Soft dark clouds, looking like droplets of black ink in water were forming around you, slowly at first, then faster and faster. Your eyes began to water as the dark vapor drifted closer and started to engulf you. It stung in your nose, giving off a terrible sulfur stench. You tried your best not to inhale it, but soon you were completely enveloped in the black mist. The first breath burned a straight trail down into your lungs and set them on fire. You began to cough, grasping at your throat, slowly choking on the dark magic the witch was blanketing you with.

Your lungs felt like they were on fire, both from the growing lack of oxygen and the vapor that was eating itself into you. Your legs started to give out underneath you and you fell to your knees as you gasped for air.

Any... second... now... you thought, every word feeling heavy in your brain, as if every word weighed a ton. Just as your vision started to flicker and blur, you registered movement out of the corner of your eye. Something whisked past you from behind you at top speed. You heard an "oomph", followed by the sound of a body being smacked to the ground. Almost instantaneously, the black vapor that surrounded you fizzled away and fresh air finally streamed into your lungs.

You wheezed and sputtered, now on your hands and knees as snot dripped out of your mouth and mixed with your tears and spit on the ground. You were relieved to finally be breathing oxygen again, your lungs however still felt like they were on fire and your throat was about as dry as sand paper.

While you were catching your breath, a lot of action was happening in front of you. Klaus had tackled the witch to the ground and Elijah had shackled her, rendering her immobilized. He grabbed her by her collar and dragged her up against the left wall of the alley. Meanwhile, Freya came out from behind the boxes you had almost run into, hands up and feverishly mumbling, casting the incantation that was supposed to free you all of the witch's evil.

You felt a hand on your back first, and then you were lifted to your feet. Hayley was on your left and Jackson was to your right; both of them had an arm slipped through yours to hold you steady. They shot you concerned looks as you were still struggling for breath. You weakly smiled back as a gesture of I'm okay, don't worry about me.

Freya continued casting in front of you. Her voice grew louder and stronger with each word. Despite clearly being outnumbered, the evil sorceress laughed, seemingly amused by Freya's casting.

"Silence." Elijah's eyes were dark with fury as he ordered the witch to quiet, but her laugh just turned shrill before Klaus struck her across the face. Her laugh briefly sputtered as she sunk down, forced to her knees by the force of the blow. Blood dripped from her split lip and smeared across her teeth. It turned her sneer into a bloody grimace.

"You're making a grave mistake, Niklaus Mikaelson."

Now it was Niklaus' turn to laugh.

"I doubt it, Athea." He bend down on one knee in front of her. "On the contrary, actually. You know, I've got my fair share of enemies in this town. But even they have agreed that we must rid this beautiful city of this plague." Niklaus grabbed Athea by the jaw and locked it in place so she was eye to eye with him. "Now, since we cannot seem to kill you - a very annoying obstacle, I must say - we had to find a different way to get rid of you, didn't we."

Freya started to stumble, the weight of the casting taking its toll on her. Immediately, Elijah was by her side and put a hand on her shoulder. It steadied her in more than just one way. She was reaching the pinnacle of the incantation and needed her brothers' power to cast the final piece of it.

"Klaus? Less talking, more killing?!" Hayley called out from next to you. Klaus smiled in return and got back on his feet to join his brother at Freya's side.

"Right you are, little wolf. I so wish we could drag this out, but alas, time is of the essence. Farewell, Athea. You will not plague this world ever again." Klaus put his hand on Freya's open shoulder with a content smile on his face.

Freya started on the last few sentences of the spell. The air in the alley started to flicker like heat over pavement on a hot day. The hair on the back of your neck started to stand up as you felt a buzzing sensation all around you, as if someone had charged the air with electricity.

Then, Freya spoke the final words. For a moment, everything in your vision seemed to sharpen. It was eerily quiet.

Then, a massive beam of light erupted from all around you, turning the world into nothing but a bright white.

Over a thousand miles away from New Orleans, in a bunker in Lebanon, Kansas, an alarm went off. The buzzing sound vibrated through the entire place, accompanied by the red flashes of warning lights.

"Oh, what now," Dean Winchester growled. He had just begun to sort through his equipment that he'd need for the next few hours: a whole day of working on the cars in the garage of the bunker. Throw in some beers and some rock music, and you had Dean's favorite kind of day off. They'd just come back from a hunt the day before and he had been looking forward to fixing what needed fixing and mending what needed mending. He went into auto-mode when working on a car; it took his mind off things and allowed him to relax.

Dean put the wrench down that he was holding and wiped his hands on the cloth stuck in his waistline. He sighed. "Can't get one damn day of peace around here," he mumbled to himself and left the garage to head to the war room.

When he arrived, he found his brother Sam and both the angels Castiel and Jack already gathered around the map table. As he approached it, he could make out a blinking light at the south of the United States.

"What is it?" Dean peered at the speckle of light blinking feverishly on the map. Sam answered him. "It's... a rift." He looked around at the men gathered the table before he scratched his neck. "I guess the update does work. This is the first one to pop up since we tweaked the settings. At least the first one to be registered."

"Where is it?" Jack, the younger of the angels chimed in. He leaned forward to get a better look at the map. "From what I can tell... New Orleans." Sam replied after checking a few parameters. There were a few seconds of silence between the men before Dean cleared his throat. "Alright." He rubbed a hand over his face as if trying to wipe the exhaustion away that was written all over it, but to no avail. He looked exhausted and worn down. "Guess we have no choice but to check it out. Cas, get your things, we're leaving in thirty. Sam, you stay here with Jack and keep an eye on the table, 'case few more of these turn up. We'll call you if we need back up." Sam nodded and sat down to check through the table's settings while Jack slowly sunk into the chair next to him. There was a hint of disappointment in the young angel's eyes, but he didn't disagree with Dean. He knew that the older Winchester didn't fully trust him and that he had to keep his head down to earn that trust back.

Castiel and Dean left the war room in direction of their respective rooms to gather their belongings for the trip. Once they were out of earshot, Castiel leaned over to Dean. "What do you think this means?" Dean shook his head in response. "I've got no idea, but it can't be good."

The explosion of light faded just as quickly as it had started. Your eyes took a moment to adjust. Black spots danced in your field of vision and there was a penetrating ringing sound in your ears. You moaned and held your head as you stumbled around while your body tried to recover. Slowly, the ringing faded away to a barely noticeable hum and your vision cleared up too.

Once you could clearly see, you stood up straight. Your brain took a moment to register what your subconscious had picked up on within nano-seconds: something was wrong. Where just a moment ago Elijah, Freya and Klaus had stood, there was no one. Hayley and Jackson were gone from your side as well. Even the witch wasn't there. Athea's disappearance was somewhat comforting - after all, that had been the goal all along - but your stomach churned at the sight of the empty spots where your family and friends should have been.

Did the spell transport all of them? you wondered while temporarily frozen in place. It was like your body had to catch up to what your brain was processing. A slow sensation of panic crept up your spine and filled your limbs with an unpleasant tingling sensation. This hadn't been part of the plan. They weren't all supposed to disappear. Just Athea. "Okay, breathe," you told yourself and forced yourself to follow your own order. You took a few deep breaths and unclenched the fists that your hands had formed into, stretching out your fingers a couple of times before you quickly shook your shoulders loose. You can figure this out.

For a lack of a better option, you head towards the entrance of the alley. Perhaps they got thrown back by the power of the spell, you mused. After all, you'd been further away from Athea and the siblings. That didn't explain Hayley and Jackson's disappearance, but you figured you had to start somewhere.

Your legs were still a bit wobbly, presumably from both the near-death experience of choking on magical vapor as well as being light-bombed. You took it slow, taking your time with each step until you were sure that you wouldn't keel over. The extra time it cost you to reach the entry of the alleyway gave you plenty opportunity to inspect your surroundings for any clues about where your people might have disappeared to. You looked around for any signs of foul play while the never-ending feeling that something, something just wasn't right nagged at you. Something was off.

That's when it hit you.

Your stomach lurched as you reached the entrance of the alley where you'd carried out your big plan and you realized what exactly was wrong. There had been spray paint on the wall behind where Klaus had tackled Athea to the floor. Nothing groundbreaking, just a tag someone had quickly sprayed on the bricks. Now, however, the wall was bare. It was still the same old brick wall, covered in specks of dirt here and there, but there was no spray paint on it. The stack of boxes that you'd almost knocked over was also missing. It should have been to your left, but it wasn't. In fact, there wasn't a single card-box in sight. The alleyway wasn't exactly 'clean', but it wasn't nearly as packed with litter and trash as it had been just a few moments ago.

"No... no, no, no, no." Your whisper grew more panicked with each syllable. The faint humming sound in your ears picked back up as your blood began to rush through your body again. Panic rose in your chest and tightened its grip until you felt like you couldn't breathe, oxygen be damned.

The spell had worked. They had successfully sent someone to an alternate universe, just like they had planned. It just wasn't Athea who'd been transported from one universe to another.

It was you.

Elijah experienced the finale of their plan take place on various levels. He heard Freya cast the last piece of the incantation. He felt it, too, the energy that flowed through his and his brothers arm into Freya, their conduct for the spell. Once his sister spoke the final words he felt a massive tug on his lifeforce, taking a piece so big that if he wasn't immortal, he was sure he wouldn't have survived it. They had known that the spell they had found was ancient, dark magic. The scripture had made vague points about how costly it was, but they had been sure that with his and Klaus' energy combined, they'd be able to supply Freya with all the mana that was required for the incantation to work. Still, the final piece of the cut into him with a kind of force that he'd never experienced before. It forced him to his knees and weakened his senses all at once.

Elijah didn't know if his vision blurred or if it was the air around him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Klaus go down as well. Almost the same second the energy was sucked out of him, he felt it in the air around him, charged and ready to explode at the slightest spark. He moaned, unable to move. His hand was stuck to his sister's shoulder through her magic. It felt like it had fused to Freya and they were now linked together for eternity, hand to shoulder and shoulder to hand. The energy around him grew denser and pressed on him, it trickled over his skin and left sizzling trails.

Elijah's muscles spasmed under the electric force and he groaned. A buzzing sound had built in the back of his head and was now stretching toward his frontal lobe, where it pressed against the bone of his skull from the inside. He thought his head might explode until suddenly, everything became very still, like the quiet before a storm. It lasted for about a nano-second until the energy that had condensed around him blew up and drenched the world in light until all he could see was white.

When he came to, Elijah was on the ground. Pieces of pebble were piercing through his skin where it had become exposed from his suit shifting. The buzzing sound had given away to a ringing in his ears and the growing pressure on his skull was gone. Instead it was replaced by a booming hammering sensation that sent rhythmic thrills of pain through his head. He groaned and shifted his weight so he could sit up. His eyes were still sensitive to the light and he had to partially shield them so that he could see anything, despite the light in the alley having returned to normal.

He first saw Freya. She was down on her hands and knees, shaking and panting. Next to her was Niklaus, who seemed to be recovering from the same ordeal as Elijah; the spell had knocked him out flat as well.

Elijah's gaze drifted forward. He felt the area under his eyes trickle as anger shot through him. There, hunched against the wall, lay Athea. She seemed to have been knocked back into the bricks by the force of the spell as blood was running down from the back of her head. Elijah smelled it, but it wasn't the reason for his vamp face to come to the surface. It was his anger, mixed with frustration. Clearly, the spell had worked. They'd paid the price for sure. He couldn't be killed, but he felt like he was just about as close to dying as he could be as an immortal.

So why was she still here? What had gone wrong?

He rose to his feet, fueled by anger, frustration and worry. Athea may temporarily be blacked out, but she would soon come to and he knew what she'd do then. He staggered over to the witch and grabbed her by the hair to pull her close. He was tempted to rip into her throat right then and there, to watch her lifeforce spill out of her and form a puddle beneath her useless body. But he knew it was no use. The Mikaelsons had learned soon enough that Athea had set herself up good and made sure that she couldn't be killed. Not for long, anyway. She always came back.

Elijah snarled and pushed her head back, appalled by the woman in front of him. She'd caused him and his family so much pain over the last few months and he wanted to see her pay for it. This spell had been their last hope. He had no idea what he was going to do now. How he was going to protect his family, or Hayley. How he was going to protect you.

"What... what happened?" Freya coughed behind him and crawled over to them.

"It didn't work! That's what happened!" Klaus shouted, his voice full of fury. His brother had always had a temper, but this time, Elijah felt it was justified.

"It did work, Klaus. You felt it. The spell worked. I don't understand why she's still here." Freya crawled closer to inspect Athea's unconscious body.

"Clearly, it bloody didn't! This was all for nothing!" Klaus' rage was boiling and he took it out on the wall in front of him. His fist left a cracked imprint on the bricks.

"Niklaus," Elijah warned. Niklaus' anger may have been justified, but there was no time for antics. They had to come up with a plan and they had to do it now.

"Elijah?" Hayley's voice was tinged with fear. He began to turn around to console her. "It's alright, Hayley, we'll find a w-" He abruptly stopped when he spotted the gap between Hayley and Jackson. Both of them were still standing as if they'd just been holding you up a second ago, each of them with a raised arm that had been looped through yours. Elijah got up and walked over to them as if in trance.

"Where's Y/N?" he asked. Neither Hayley nor Jackson answered him. They had no answer. Elijah rolled his sleeves up as if getting ready for battle. It was a subconscious move, a displacement activity. He felt the gnawing feeling of panic set in in his stomach.

"Hayley. Where's Y/N?" he repeated in a calm, quiet demeanor. His auto-pilot was taking over. Hayley looked at him and he saw the shock and fear in her eyes. "She... Elijah, she disappeared..." she whispered as tears welled in her eyes.

Elijah stumbled back as if her words had struck him in the face.

"No... no..." Freya was coming up behind him and stared at the spot between the two wolfs where you had been standing just a few moments ago. "But... that's impossible! It's not possible! The spell was customized to Athea, not Y/N!"

"Freya." Although Elijah said her name like a statement, the unspoken question hung in the air. His sister turned to look at him. Fear and confusion were battling for dominance on her face. "Elijah, I don't know what happened. It's not possible. None of the words I said even remotely referred to Y/N. I have no idea how..." She trailed off. Then laughter came from behind them.

"You fools! I told you you were making a grave mistake! Ha ha ha!" Athea cackled as they turned around to her. Blood was still running from her mouth and her face appeared sunken in, with dark circles forming under her eyes. She continued to laugh while she occasionally sputtered and coughed up more blood.

Klaus was the first to react. He whooshed over to her side and grabbed her by the scalp. "What did you do, you useless bitch?" he snarled at her, but Athea just kept on laughing.

"Did you really think I was going to walk into your trap like that?" Athea sneered at Klaus as a red line trickled from her mouth. Again she coughed and spat out more blood.

"No... how...?" Freya's eyes widened in shock as she registered the meaning behind Athea's words. She'd known all along what they had been up to and had somehow... what? Manipulated the spell? "A spell of this character can't be manipulated! She doesn't have the power! I needed you two to even try to pull it off and even then we weren't sure it was gonna work. There's no way she could have altered it on her own." Freya was thinking out loud while she paced around.

"Then how did she do it? Did she have help?" Jackson's rusty voice cut in. He looked around as if he anticipated a line of enemies to come out of hiding at any second and attack them.

"I don't think so. A circle to back her up would have needed to be massive and they'd have needed to be physically attached to her, like Klaus and Elijah touched me. No, she..." Again, Freya trailed off and hesitated for a moment, then she quickly walked over to Athea.

Their enemy witch looked worse by the second. Her skin had taken on a greyish tone and the circles under her eyes had turned a dark purple. Her face, however, still had a stoic, defiant expression all over it. Freya knelt in front of her and grabbed the sorceress by the shoulder. "How did you do it? How did you hijack the spell? That's the only way you could've done it!" she shouted and shook the woman in front of her. The commotion caused Athea to cough again and blood splattered across her chest. She gave Freya a crimson red smile. "Wouldn't you like to know, Freya Mikaelson."

Klaus wrapped a hand around Athea's throat and squeezed slightly. "Tell us what you did, or I'll rip your head off right here and now." His fingers pressed into her throat with more force now, visibly obstructing the witch's airflow. She gasped for air but still... smiled. "Don't waste your strength on me, Niklaus. My time has come anyway." She gasped and coughed again before she continued. "I knew what you had planned and I knew I didn't have enough power to stop the spell. I knew my time in this world was coming to an end, but I wasn't going to go without a fight." She wheezed and the air in her lungs rattled and blubbered. "What did you do!" Klaus shook her by the throat as his voice echoed through the alleyway.

"I hijacked the spell," Athea replied hoarsely and gave another of her bloody smiles. There was a sense of triumph in voice. "But how?" Freya implored. She had no idea how a spell of this character could be manipulated, let alone hijacked. Unless... Athea cackled. "A good witch never reveal's all her secrets. Isn't that what the mortals say?" Klaus tightened his grip on Athea's throat and pushed her up the wall. Her entire weight was now on Klaus' grip around her neck; her feet dangled a few inches above the ground. "There's nothing good about you, you old crone," he growled. "Enough chitchat. Tell us what you did, or I'll rip you apart limb by limb, no matter how many times it takes until you sing." The witch didn't reply. She gasped for air, but her hands didn't claw at Klaus' hand like any other person might've done. Below them, Freya knelt down and inspected the ground. She soon found what she was looking for and rubbed a pinch of the black powder between her fingers.

"Klaus." The hybrid didn't relent his grip on Athea's throat, so Freya started again. "Klaus, it's no use. She's dying anyway." "Whatever do you mean?" Elijah approached the three of them from behind. Hayley and Jackson followed on his heel. "Just what I said. She's dying." His sister held out her hand to him and showed him the black stains. "When I was still with Daliah, she once told me about the myth about the fruit of the tree of life. Supposedly you could use its dried remnants to redirect any spell or curse thrown at you with ease, but no one had found a fruit in centuries. It was presumed to have gone extinct." Freya gestured over to Athea as she continued. "I have no idea how she got one... but this is what she must have used to redirect the spell to Y/N."

"Okay, great, that's one question answered. But why is she dying? I thought she couldn't die?" Hayley defensively crossed her arms in front of her chest. "She can't, not in a traditional way. But this spell is so old and so powerful, it overwrites any other spell. It becomes the default setting. Any power that she invested into enchantments to secure her life must have been redirected into our incantation, to uphold her end of the bargain, so to say. She traded Y/N for herself. Even if she only hijacked the spell and didn't try to counter it, it must have cost massive amounts of mana." The Mikaelson witch paused and briefly looked down. "So much, in fact, that all of her previous enchantments weren't enough. So she's paying with her life."

"Aren't you a clever little witch. It's a pity Dahlia lost control over you. We could have benefited from a clever one like y-" Athea was abruptly cut off when Elijah zoomed over to her and ripped off her head. It fell to the ground with a soft thump and rolled a couple of times before coming to a halt a few feet away from its previous body.

"Freya," Elijah said as he got his handkerchief out and cleaned a few bloody stains from his hand. "Tell me you know how to bring Y/N back, now that you've discovered the reason for this... mishap." The threat in his voice wasn't meant for his sister. He'd stared at the bodiless head on the ground as he had spoken.

"That's just it, brother. I have no idea."

A/N: It's here! I'm so excited! 🥳 This was so much fun to write and I can't wait to get started on the next chapter. This one got kind of long, but I felt that that was necessary to set the whole story up properly. The next chapter(s) might not be as long 😅 Depending on how much time I can find in the next days it should be up by next week.

Continue reading here: Chapter 2

Feedback is greatly appreciated! Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist ☺️

Taglist:

@vicmc624 @foreverrandomwritings

#elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson imagine #the originals fic #the originals imagine #elijah mikaelson x reader #the originals #elijah mikaelson fic #the originals fanfic #the originals fanfiction #the originals x supernatural crossover #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fic #spn fic #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #dean x you #dean winchester x you #elijah mikaelson x you #elijah x you

[crocodilenjoyer]

op fic recs

dont tell my professors.

on my way to believing by nervermordor | g | romance dawn arc | vaguely zoluna, nami-centric | 8.5k words | complete

A head pops up on the other side of Straw Hat; the last of the fading sunlight refracts off Roronoa’s earrings, winking at her. “Oh,” he says, sounding only mildly surprised to see her. “You’re here too.”

“What are you talking about? What’s going on?”

Roronoa grins. “Yeah. He does this.”

Nami props herself up a little higher on her already bruising elbow. Straw Hat’s got an arm wrapped around Roronoa, same as her, pinning him to his other side.

“Okay,” Nami says, feeling her third headache in as many hours beginning to creep up. “What is this?”

“How he sleeps, I guess. Been doing it since we started sailing together.”

“You’re joking.”

Roronoa shrugs.

“Well, how do we get him to let go?”

“Dunno. Haven’t figured that part out yet,” Roronoa says and then, because he’s no help at all, lays back down.

migratory animals by donutsandcoffee | t | ambiguous setting, roughly enies lobby-onwards | zosan | 1.4k | complete

Sanji is carefully placing a cherry on top of the ice cream, his hands nimble, soft, almost—gentle. But all Zoro sees is the way the hems of his pants are still soaked in blood from an earlier skirmish with a marine ship, red seeping into the cracks on the floorboard, spattering across the kitchen floor in a slow drip, drip, drip.

Zoro stares, fascinated. He can’t bring himself to look away.

(Or, Zoro and Sanji—terrible monsters, in love)

trouble is a friend of mine by taizi | t | ambiguous setting, sometime from wci to post-wano-ish | gen, straw hats, sanji-centric | 3.1k | complete

“I don’t buy it,” Pete retorts. “Someone like you? Some cook from East Blue? You’re probably worth a couple hundred thousand bellies at best, maybe a million, if your captain’s somebody.”

Sanji tilts his head back so that it rests against the dirty wall behind him. He’s still upright, somehow, through sheer stubbornness or spite. He doesn’t look like someone who only has tonight left to live. In fact, he looks sharp. There’s no better word for it. His expression is still as peaceable as it has been since he arrived, but watching him is like watching a knife slide out of its sheath. He is, abruptly, dangerous. A tool made for cutting.

“If you knew where I’ve been, you would be terrified of me,” he says.

stolen things by Origamidragons | t | roughly enies lobby-onwards | namivivi | 2.8k | complete

A catalogue of things stolen by, for, and from Princess Vivi of Alabasta with regards to a certain thief, as documented by her long-suffering captain of the guard.

see hope rise with the tide by Origamidragons | t | pre-canon with info from fishman island | gen, nami & jinbe | 3.2k | complete

“If you’re looking for Arlong, he’s inside,” she says, pointing at the monstrous building. Jinbe doesn’t look away from her, from the bruise over her eye. She can’t be older than thirteen or fourteen. Her fingers are worn red and raw. As he watches, a drop of blood drips to the ground.

A girl, with reddish hair and exhausted eyes and a ragged, forced smile, and it’s Koala but it’s not.

(Jinbe goes to check in on his brother, and finds some things that need to be set right.)

ocean breathes salty. by novks (thychesters) | t | ambiguous setting, post-timeskip | zolu | 2.7k | complete

“Do you think you can bench press me?” Luffy asks, interrupting him in the middle of a crunch, and Zoro pauses and says, “yeah, sure.”

now here you come by mugibaras (psalter) | e | set around ch. 956/ep. 957 | mishanks | 6.6k | complete

There’s a tightening feeling low in Shanks’ stomach as his gaze follows those long fingers wrap around the neck of the bottle, the candlelight lancing over a sharp cheekbone. Mihawk is terrifying before he is beautiful, but Shanks isn’t afraid of him, and Mihawk is so fucking pretty. The dim glow filtering in through the windows is beginning to tinge warm, reminding Shanks that they’re on borrowed time; he glances at the clock and decides. He reaches over before Mihawk can straighten and curls his fingers around the shell of his ear.

“Hey.”

Mihawk stills and looks at him from the corner of his eye, barely turning his head. The bottle is in his hand, and Shanks trails his fingers down Mihawk’s jaw to take the liquor from him and set it down on the table.

“Wanna bang?”

But Patience Boasts by Augment | t | post-wci | zolu and tagged as "sanji/the concept of love" | 9.4k | complete

Sanji and Zoro have very different love languages.

Standards by taizi | nr, probably g | post-timeskip | gen, straw hats | 2.4k

"You aren't planning on bringing that boy in with you tomorrow night, are you? Our restaurant has certain standards."

(In which the Straw Hats set out to prove their captain meets certain standards; whether he likes it or not.)

The Marks You Choose to Bear by ThisCat | g | post-timeskip, small reference to info from wci | gen, straw hats | 5.3k | complete

Usopp gets his hands on a tattoo machine.

Soon after, he gets his hands all over his crew.

as the world goes on its wicked way by taizi | t | ambiguous setting, post-zou | gen, straw hats, luffy-centric | 5.4k | complete

When they’re on the forecastle, with the helm just behind them and the figurehead casting them further in shadow, Usopp calls, “Raise the sails!”

Luffy’s gasp next to his ear is the best part of his entire day. 

The sails unfold in a great rolling crash of canvas. Even the striped gaff swings out, catching the wind. The whole sloop gives a powerful lurch as if she’s eager to sprint out of port on the back of whatever gale blows along next. 

And painted on the foresail, bold and bright and proud, is a grinning Jolly Roger in a yellow straw hat. 

“That’s mine,” Luffy whispers, hushed and awed. 

“Told you so,” Usopp says smugly. 

Lost in Translation by HyperbolicReverie | t | wano arc | gen, zoro-centric | 4.4k | complete

Ever since he'd left home, people had not stopped asking Zoro about his accent.

Or, the reason Zoro was allowed to wander around alone in Wano.

poly philtatos (the most loved by far) by swordsmans | t | post-fishman island, spoilers through wano | zolu, straw hats, zoro-centric | 24.8k | complete | MCD as a framing device

He keeps moving forward at a steady pace, resisting the urge to run because how fucking embarrassing would that be, running because he missed them, and as he breaks through the treeline he shouts, “Oi, oi—what took you guys so long? It's been—”

And then he freezes, because yes, actually—something is very, very wrong.

The Sunny is anchored just off shore, close enough to see the deck but far enough away that the crew has had to take the Mini Merry to make land. Scattered across the beach in various stages of chaos—rolling around, yelling, fighting—are his crew but not his crew, so similar and yet so, so different. They look younger, fresher, and whatthefuck there, on the deck of the Sunny just peering over the railing, he catches a flash of green—his own green hair—

“Ah, fuck,” he grunts, and then immediately turns back around because no, actually, he does not want to deal with this.

informal swordfighting, and the sorts by naturecalls111 | e | modern au, canon setting n/a | zosan | 6.5k | complete

It’s been a while since Sanji has gotten some action, which is the only reason why Zoro’s deplorable, barely-there attempt somehow works. Obviously.

got all my attention fixed on you (and you're just where you said you'd be) by nevermordor | g | pre-enies lobby | zolu | 7.5k words | complete

Luffy looks again at the bitemarks that he left on Zoro’s wrist. Zoro’s usually hurt, one way or another. Sometimes it’s definitely been Luffy’s fault too, but the bitemarks feel different. They ain’t like normal bruises or cuts. There’s something about seeing the shape of his teeth in Zoro’s skin. Something about the colors, the slightly paler insides of Zoro’s wrists, and the blueness of his veins, and the dark pink color of where Luffy bit him.

riptide by nevermordor | gen | post-alabasta | zolu | 6.7k | complete

Luffy unhinges his jaw and crams an entire breakfast ham down his throat. He chews reflectively a moment and then demands,

“Zoro, you wanna have a date tonight?”

Zoro answers by inhaling the rest of his orange juice through his nose and promptly spewing it everywhere.

“That a yes?”

--

Luffy and Zoro destroy a restaurant, end up lost, get in a bar fight with a bunch of pirates and go on their first date. Not necessarily in that order.

gather up all of the crew (it's time to ship out) by wildparsnip | t | post-arlong park | gen, east blue quintet | 3.5k | complete

“Sanji! It’s lunchtime, right? Now? Soon? Now, right?”

His legs are tight around Sanji’s waist and his arms have come around Sanji’s chest and crossed, grabbing the opposite shoulders, the whole length of his chest pressed tight and close. Sanji can feel the vibration when he talks, the snap of the rubber resonating in his bones.

Luffy’s hair is tickling the back of his neck.

The whole thing is – it’s –

For a long second Sanji is frozen.

“Sanji?”

It feels –

(The Straw Hat Pirates set sail in the East Blue.)

the hand that thieves by Origamidragons | t | pre-canon | gen, crocodile-centric | 2.8k | complete | cw brief ableism

If he gets caught stealing again, if he loses his other hand, he’ll never be a pirate. Never be anything besides a crippled beggar, pleading for scraps.

If he doesn’t steal, he’ll starve.

giving value to survival by yohoapirateslifeforme | t | pre-canon to shells town | gen, zoro-centric | 11k words | complete

Despite the fluid nature of his ambition, Zoro himself rarely changes: principles, directions, appearance. And when he does, he makes sure it's under the heavy influence of both long-term irritation and a healthy dose of the nearest hard liquor.

Or, Zoro is trans, surgeries cost money, and there's little to no verified adult supervision in his life.

a glance that holds the world and all its seas by JacknessofHearts | t | fishman island arc | sanuso | 6.4k | complete

“God, again?!” Usopp looks down at Sanji who's sitting against a column and tilting his head back while pressing a tissue against his bleeding nose.

“Shu' ub,” Sanji growls. Or, he tries to. It sounds rather unimpressive.

“You're terrible,” Usopp says but he can't hold back the fond smile that's been blooming all over his face again and again ever since he's stepped foot on the Sunny after returning to Sabaody.

*

It's the big party after defeating Hody Jones. Usopp gets Sanji away from all the mermaids. (Honestly, Sanji, these nosebleeds are disgusting.)

#riko.txt #zolu #zosan #usosan #straw hat pirates #fic recs #mishanks #nami #crocodile #sanji #namivivi #jinbe #zoro

[morgy-doo]

school bus graveyard x Fem! Secret idol! reader

Who is Wonyoung (IVE): Wonyoung is the bubbly, outgoing and caring member of a popular K-pop group IVE.

character has similar traits to Wonyoung, non dimension AU, fluff, Tyler hernandez, Ashlyn banner, Taylor hernandez, Logan fields, Ben clark, Aiden clark.

TW: none

y/n quickly speed walked through the allyway, crossing the intersection, she had five minutes till vocal practice and she was already running late as it is as Aiden decided to pull some dumb stunt right before she left. she did want to be honest with them, but after recently transferring schools she didn't want the news to get out again, last time all it did was hinder her school life, but she couldn't be mad, she adores her fans and does her best to excuse their sometimes out of line behavior.

y/n breathes out in relief as she arrives to the recording studio. as she walks through the carpented halls she had a thought were the group on to her? it did seem kinda weird she had to keep cutting hang outs or leaving so abruptly. well, they probably didn't even know her group, the weren't as popular as other bands, if they did, they would of bought it up by now. also, if they did discover her group, its not like they would know its her from the glamour of the makeup and costume design. with that reassuring thought, she pushed open the doors to the main studio. nahh, they have no idea.

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

"There is something going on with y/n" Ashlyn said, crouched in the bus seat, taking the entire seat to herself. Taylor turned and raised an eyebrow. "Do you think? i mean, i did think its kinda weird she always left really early when we hang out, but i just thought she had strict parents or something." Aiden laughed ."No, iv'e spoken to Marhshall and Christy, they are actually really laid back"

Tyler gave Aiden a confused look "When did you get the chance to meet her parents?" Aiden sat down next to Tyler, who immediatley shoved him off the seat onto the floor.

"Well i was bored so i was gonna ask y/n if she wanted to come and convince old people its 3000 and that the nursing home was a secret time machine" (Aiden would totally do that you cannot tell me otherwise.) "But she wasnt answering er texts so naturally i went to her house and climbed through the kitchen window."

Logan gave him a horrified look and looked back at Ashlyn. "We should give y/n her own privacy, if she wants to tell us where she is going then that is up to her, we should drop it for now, maybe."

Ashlyn nodded in response and kicked Aiden off the chair next to her that he was trying to sit on.

(stop aiden abuse)

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

the group (minus y/n since she scurried off to another rehersal) were leaving school, it had been a long day full of work and Aiden, so everyone was tired and pissy. they were turning the corner when they heard the voice of Barron. Ashlyn grabbed the back of Taylor and Aiden's shirts so they wouldn't walk into their line of view and pulled them back behind the corner.

"Doesn't that new girl y/n look familiar, i just thought she was some washed up bitch who iv'e probably seen sleeping around, but then i noticed this." he pulls out his phone and shows one of his skanky friends a picture, it was of y/n in their most recent school photo, Ashlyn can barely discern the picture as it was from a distance but could still recognise the face.

Barron zoomed in on a mark on y/n's neck. Ashlyn had noticed the mark several times, but never chose to bring it up. Barron loaded up a new picture, this time it was a picture of someone in an over eccentri outit, their face covered in makeup and their hair done fancy, Barron zoomed in once again to reveal that this mystery girl had the same marking on her neck that y/n did.

"I think y/n is a member of the girl group ONCE" the group all turned to look at each other. Ashlyn pulled out her phone and researched the group, clicking on a video of a recent performance, Ben smiled and pointed to a girl near the left, now that they saw it close up, there was no mistaking it was their friend y/n. "I recognise this music, my dad always plays it in the car, says its cheery, doesn't stop me from wanting to jump out the window." Ashlyn says as she clicks off the video.

"But why wouldn't y/n tell us?" Taylor says looking around. Tyler just rolled his eyes. "Well i would be embarassed too if i had to wear ugly frilly dresses like that." Logan smiled weakly. "That's not the point-" Ashlyn cut Logan off, finishing his sentence for him, "She probably doesn't trust us enough, that's why, this is kinda a big secret idiot, so lets just pretend we haven't seen this and never bring it up to her"

Too late. Aiden had already sent y/n a picture of the video they had been watching with the text: "nice dress LOL"

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

A few weeks later, things began to work out better for y/n, after seeing Aiden's text, she came clean and explained everything about her vocal practice, and that she did indeed trust them, she just didn't want the knowledge being leaked. the others all accepted her and her career. infact, her band and the group even all hang out together, but Aiden was more so interested in farting in the mic and hearing it reverberate through the sound system.

thanks for requesting, did the best i could with the knowledge of how wonyoung acts, i never heard of IVE before so

#wonyoung #IVE #ive #school bus graveyard #SBG #x reader #fem reader #aiden clark #ben clark #ashlyn banner #taylor hernandez #tyler hernandez #logan fields #ashlyn sbg #tyler sbg #taylor sbg #aiden sbg #ben sbg #logan sbg #ashlyn x reader #ben x reader #aiden x reader #logan x reader #taylor x reader #tyler x reader

[sagezere]

I couldn’t find the words to say ‘I love you’.

omg guys its finally a part 3 😱 Finally got inspo to write sorry for the longest wait ever lmao

part 1 here. part 2 here. extra but also kinda important here.

It’s been months. You haven’t spoken to Mona or Scaramouche at all since you caught them in ‘the act’. Honestly it sent shivers of disgust all over your body.

You walked in the halls of your college- even though you shared the same one with both the people that you used to call ‘friends’ you thankfully havent seen them at all.

Taking out your phone and scrolling through anything to clear your mind of the nuisances that you foolishly allowed to be by your side for years, you bumped shoulders with someone.

“Ah, sorry I should have been looking where I was going” you turn around and say apologetically, not expecting to see the man that has been plaguing your mind for this long.

He turned, glared at you for a few seconds before the glare faltered. Both of your eyes stayed connected and the tug of your heart hurt so bad, but you just took a deep breath, blinked at him with the blankest face you could muster, turned and walked away.

And God, did that feel good- that was until you felt a grab at your shoulder, and you were pulled back slightly.

“(Name)…” His voice whispered out, but you didn’t want to turn. You shrugged his hand off of you, and turned your head slightly, just to get that look on his face and you glared.

“Don’t fucking speak to me. You chose to do what you did, so just do what you always wanted me to do and fuck off.” Then you finally walked away from him- with an aching heart of course, but it was finally a step forward. With every step away from him it felt like you could finally breathe, like you could finally feel the weight of all those years slide off and far away.

—

Going about your day, it’s only been about an hour or two since bumping into Scaramouche in the hall. You were so happy to have finally let go of such a burden- having finally broken a promise you’ve made to a ‘dead person’ (if ur confused read the prequel thing or just dont idk)

However happiness was cut abruptly when you were faced with the other half of the nuisance, Mona. You were unsure of your standings with her, she seemed to only be your friend when Scaramouche wasn’t in the picture, but she’d also treat you as if you were some gross bug when he was around.

Seeing her stand in front of you so casually as if she hadn’t just ghosted you for some boy made you pissed off.

“(Name)! It’s been so long, how’ve you been?” The casualty in her voice and actions towards you start irritating you. You give her a disgusted look.

“what the hell are you talking about? ‘(Name) it’s been so long, how’ve you been?’ “ You mock her words in an overly high pitched and obnoxious voice.

“You ghosted me Mona. Don’t come skipping back expecting me to be the same (Name) I was months ago- actually scratch that, I’m pretty grateful.” You cross your arms and look her in the eyes with a glare.

“(Name) look I’m sorry-“ You cut her off.

“shut up and let me speak for fucks sake.” You rolled your eyes, not letting her speak over you.

“You went no contact on me, blocked me from literally everything! Kind of glad you did that for me though, with you and your bitch of a boyfriend out of my life for all those months I realized how fake you are!”

When she opened her mouth to speak- or defend herself you just walked away, not wanting to even hear any more of her voice.

—

yeah sorry this is kinda shit, but like if any of u wanna take inspo or kinda remake this and my other fics into something else just feel free. I honestly meant to keep the first fic as just that, but ppl wanted a part 2 so I made the part 2 and then ppl wanted a part 3 and I was just like ‘damn wth do i do now’ so yeah. Thanks for reading 😭❤️

#scaramouche x reader angst #scaramouche angst #scaramouche x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact scaramouche #x reader #kunikuzushi #kunikuzushi x reader

[xetswan]

Switch Of Daylight- Forgive

(Alice x Reader x Jasper)

[Eleven] [Twelve] [Thirteen]

(I’m remodeling my chapters. Not story wise just the look of everything)

"Werewolves are not vicious." Bella tells Alice as she's making herself hot chocolate. Alice is pacing in the room as I sit at the table.

I stare at the ground. Alice and I still haven't truly acknowledged each other. "Until they lose their tempers." She argues.

"They saved me from Laurent with [Name]. They're protecting us from Victoria." My sister informs her, the vampire seems shocked. "Victoria? I didn't see her? I didn't see you get pulled from the water either by [Name]." Alice says my name hesitantly, carefully side glancing as me when it leaves her mouth.

"She saved me, Jacob was there seconds after. I wouldn't have made it without him. You have no idea what it was like." Bella frowns.

"Yes. I do. I knew leaving wouldn't be good for you. I tried to tell Edward, but he wouldn't listen." She responds, my chest tenses up. She knew.

She knew about Bella that means she knew about me. My skin begins to tingle as anger grows inside of me.

Thoughts racing, practically bouncing off the walls in my head. "Does he know you're here?" I hear my sister ask but it's muffled. Everything's muffled. I begin to take breaths as if I need it.

"No. He's been... away..."

I stand up angrily, forcing myself from the scene. Accidentally slamming the chair back, breaking it. I don't care enough to apologize as I just leave the house. My body shakes from the anger I'm feeling. My skin feels like it's on fire.

I remember how anger triggers this feeling, attempting to calm myself it cools down but definitely still there. I hold myself, confused on what to do so I sit on the ground. Thinking everything over.

Hours pass I didn't even realize it, a door opens behind me and I figure it's just Alice going to her car to leave or something so I stay quiet. "Can we talk?" She sits across from me, I didn't even realize she got in front of me. I suck in a deep breath. Let's get this over with I guess.

I glance up at her, my head still facing down. "Go ahead." I say.

"I got your calls." She whispers, a pang hits my heart. She got them and never responded. She admitted to it. How... why? I stay quiet. "I... couldn't answer." She continues. Now I'm looking at her. "You hurt me, [Name]." She tells me, this is where I roll my eyes in response.

"[Name] please, you admitted to not trusting my family, to not trusting Jasper and I!" She slightly raises her voice to which I shake my head, putting a finger up to stop her.

"Alice, stop talking." I warn her. I feel my body start to hurt, it felt like the muscle sores I got after having a panic attack as a human. "I just need you to understand I was upset with you. I didn't-" I cut her off but standing up.

"Alice, enough." I attempt to warn her again. She follows suit, stepping closer to me. I didn't move an inch. As much as I wanted Alice and Jasper back this... this is not how I wanted it to be. "[Name], I'm sorry..."

It falls silent around us, she takes it as a sign to step closer. I don't move but I do flinch. Not out of fear that she'd hurt me but realization that I need to back away.

I need this conversation to end before I blow up and say things I don't mean. "Will you forgive me?" She asks me, my eyes glance at her then away from her.

"Alice stop this conversation please." Instead, she touches my arm which shocks it. Her eyebrows furrowed and I hiss in pain. The warmth now covering over it. "Are you okay? That's never happened before." Her face is full of worry and confusion and I hold my arm but my feet haven't moved from its placement.

"Alice!" I abruptly shout, she jumps from surprise. Obviously not expecting me to raise my voice like this.

"I need you to leave me alone! You did it for months, start doing it again!" I glare at her, finally backing away from her.

"Do you not understand what you did to me? I begged you guys to understand that I couldn't leave. Something you I guess didn't even want to do. As you said to Bella. My sister. And treated me like shit because of it. Then knowing I was going to find out about the prophecy b.s, you guys never once checked up on me. I called hundreds of times. Scared out of my mind because I was told that I could change into some monster! Something that even you would try to kill. So yeah, I'm angry with you. And no I don't think I'm forgiving you any time soon." I yell in her face, she doesn't move away from me. Taking it all as I scream in anger.

Then the pain I felt before gets a little worse. Dragging me down a little bit. I take a breath, something that's been needed more frequently. "And tell Jasper he's just as bad." I spat, before collecting myself and going back into my house to leave Alice with what I said.

I see Bella on the top of the stairs but I ignore it, heading straight to my room. Falling down on my bed, barely missing it as the pain really sets in as the adrenaline leaves my body. I begin to start shivering.

Now cold...

I lazily drag the covers over my body as I feel myself get weaker. What's happening to me?

I know what's happening I just am fighting it. I'm in denial. It can't happen.

I close my eyes, I didn't fall asleep. I just laid there thinking everything over.

I didn't leave my room, or my bed. I heard my door open to different people each time checking in on me. My dad doing it the most. I told him I didn't feel good and he just understood. I apologized to him about Harry to which there was just a sad silence.

I heard him apologize to Bella about her not being able to come since they wanted the service small. Then him leaving and Alice questioning her about it.

Moments pass and I hear Jacob outside. "Huh. Didn't see him with you guys at the water. Maybe my visions allergic to dogs." Alice mercilessly says. It hurts me as I'm probably going to turn partly into one. "Alice..." Bella sighs out. "I'll do some hunting." She says, leaving the house.

It's not only Jacob that's approaching the house, it's Embry and Quil too. "Quil... you too?" Bella asks.

"Yeah. Me, too." Quil aggressively responds. I hear Jake get out of the vehicle they were in. "You alone?"

"Yes, well [Name]'s in her room. She hasn't left it since Alice got here." Bella informs him. "Shouldn't you be at the funeral?" She changes the subject.

"Had to talk to you first." He then tells the guys to go on and he'll meet them there.

The vehicle drives away. They enter the house, now it's a lot better to hear them. "Look, Jake. I'm sorry I-"

"This place stinks to hell, even more than when it's just [Name]." You could tell he was joking more about me, I roll my eyes.

"You're welcome to leave. In fact-" "How many Cullens are here and how long are they staying?" He cuts her off with the question. "Just Alice. And she'll stay as long as she wants." She snaps back. If I wasn't so angry with Alice I'd back her up but I want nothing more than for her to leave. Her voice to leave my mind. "Are the rest coming back?"

"Not that I'm aware of. Anything else?" Bella's getting irritated. "That's it."

"Better go report to Sam." Bella tells him, I can feel his emotions for some reason but then he goes from annoyed to beat. Disappointed with himself. "I've done it again. I keep breaking my promise not to hurt you." He says to her. "It doesn't have to be this way." My sister pleads.

"Yeah it does."

"Am I gonna lose you this time, Jacob?" She questions. "It was easier when we were human, wasn't it?" Then it grows quiet. I want to know what's happening but at the same time I can hear their heartbeats enough to know I'm better off where I am. The phone rings, and their heart beats begin to go back to normal. Sort of.

"swan residence." Jacob answered the phone. I hear a familiar voice. "He's not here. He's at a funeral."

Jacob's voice goes cold and I immediately know who it was. Jacob hangs up the phone.

"Filthy bloodsucker." He mutters.

"Wait, who was it?" Bella asks, I squeeze my eyes shut. "Dr. Carlisle Cullen." He lies.

"You should have let me talk to him." She says. "He didn't ask for you."

"Step away from me Bella."

I guess this is where I should come in as well. I take a breath, standing up from the bed. Taking the energy from the house to build up my own. The pain slowly went away last night but I can still feel it in my chest. "Alice, what's wrong?" She turns to the vampire.

"Edward.."

"what about him? What happened?" Bella panics. "I just saw him in a vision. He thinks you're dead." Worry covers my- Alice's face. "That was him calling, not Carlisle." Bella realizes. "Bella, he's going to Italy... tot he Volturi." Alice announces.

No moments pass where Bella is packing her clothes. Now just Alice and I in the room. We hear Bella and Jacob upstairs as he pleads with her not to go. "Your transformation... it's starting?" She asks me, I look up at her and shrug.

"You care now? Or do I have to have Bella jump off a cliff again for that?" I stare at her, emotionless. I walk up the stairs. "Alice has the tickets. Let's go." I tell Bella. "Those Cullens might hunt animals but those monsters in Italy don't." Jacob squares up with me.

"We're well aware of what the Volturi are." Alice joins us. "Then why are you taking Bella to them like a bottle of wine to a party." He quizzes. "Right, she's better off here with Victoria stalking her. The one you dogs can't seem to catch?"

Jacob growls, a shudder going through him. Bella steps in front of us, stopping him from morphing. "Let's go." Bella takes us, leading outsides.

Alice and I get in the car, I sit in the back on purpose even though Bella was going to. Jacob catches her arm before she can enter though. "please, Bella. Stay here. For Charlie... for me." He begs with her, she hugs him in response.

"Bye, Jacob." She climbs in the Mercedes. I notice the visible agony he has. Bella goes to pull her seat belt on but then Alice stops her. "Maybe Jacob's right." My sister tries to cut her off.

"No, you need to realize the Volturi could easily see me as Edward's accomplice. And you're a human who knows too much and tastes too good. They could kill us all." All Bella responds with is clipping her seatbelt in. Alice sees she won't change her mind so she shifts the gear and drives.

The drive to the airport, I repeatedly catch Alice staring at me. Only to get a straight face in return. Even the flight grew awkward.

Alice and I steal a yellow Porsche with dark tinted windows as we both can't be seen in the sunlight. She wears a hooded coat as I wear a cowboy hat and long sleeves. "Where'd you get the car?" Bella questions as she gets in the car with us. "Hope you're not opposed to grand theft auto." Alice says. "Not today."

Then she floors it as Bella is in it.

The car flies down the highway.

This is a little short but it’s because the last chapter is about to be very long. Might be out to tomorrow. I’m working on it tonight but I know for a fact I’m gonna pass out before I finish it lol.

Masterlist

A&J M.L.

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#twilight #twilight x reader #alice cullen #bella swan #carlisle cullen #jacob black #jasper whitlock #jasper hale x reader #alice cullen x reader #esme cullen #twilight imagine #rosalie twilight #the twilight saga #twilight saga #charlie swan #carlisle x esme #rosalie x emmett #seth clearwater x reader #jacob black x reader #x reader #rosalie lillian hale #jasper cullen x reader #jasper cullen #jasper hale #jasper #billy black #seth clearwater #sam uley x reader #embry call #leah clearwater

[dreadheadmadi]

- I’M GONNA CLAW THOSE PRETTY LITTLE EYES OUT

Chapter 1

A/N: If you enjoyed this chapter, let me know by reblogging or just dm me! Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! I hope you have a wonderful day or night, bye angel!

BLACKWOOD MANOR loomed on the outskirts of New York like a gothic monolith, its sprawling grounds shrouded in mist and mystery; its imposing design was a testament to the wealth and power of its enigmatic owner, the elusive billionaire Alexander Blackwood. The grandeur of the mansion enveloped the night like a cloak of decadence, its opulence a stark contrast to the darkness that seeped through its polished corridors.

Usually, the manor would lay dormant and dark, with no sounds or persons going in or out. However, tonight was a special night, a masquerade-themed birthday, of whom it belonged to but none other than Alexander Blackwood's spouse. She was different from her loner husband - a city girl and an active member of New York's rich folk. Such a figure would earn as many friends and connections as possible - and she invited them all. Within the manor's walls, the wealthy elite danced and revealed, their laughter echoing against the marble floors as they indulged in the spoils of their privilege.

Among them, Alexander's favorite niece, Sofia Blackwood, navigated the sea of masked faces, her steps hesitant as she struggled to mask her discomfort beneath a façade of poise and grace. That night, she mustered the courage to ask her uncle to fund her college education, considering that her parents disapproved of her choice of study and promised to cut ties if she pursued it.

The air was heavy with the scent of expensive perfumes and the sickly sweetness of excess, but beneath it, a palpable tension lurked—a sense of impending doom that clung to the shadows like a vengeful specter. As the night wore on and inhibitions faded, Sofia was drawn to a secluded balcony overlooking the sprawling gardens below. She needed a moment to think, to gather herself before locating her uncle. Taking deep breaths, Sofia closed her eyes before looking at the scenery. A small smile appeared as she reminisced about when her uncle would play tag with her in the garden - tiny Sofia would run around the hedges, past the fountain, and up the staircase leading back to the manor as Alexander chased her. As her eyes followed the path, her smile quickly dropped as a cold chill shot through her blood.

There, amidst the ivy-covered trellises and moonlit fountains, she stumbled upon a sight that would forever haunt her nightmares. A figure lay sprawled across the cold stone tiles—a man, his once-immaculate tuxedo now stained with the crimson evidence of his demise. His eyes, wide with terror, stared unseeing into the night while multiple grotesque gashes marred his throat, the blood still warm and viscous against his pallid skin.

Sofia recoiled in horror, bile rising in her throat as she struggled to comprehend the brutality of the scene before her. The metallic tang of blood filled her nostrils, and she fought to suppress the urge to hurl as the reality of the situation washed over her in sickening waves. Instead of vomit coming out of her mouth, a guttural, heart-wrenching shriek replaced it. Multiple footsteps rush towards her before halting abruptly, filling the evening atmosphere with their wails. Around her, the party descended into chaos, the revelry shattered by the specter of death that now loomed over them all. Sofia was grabbed by her mother and father and ushered into an enclosed room where she finally regurgitated her evening meal onto the pristine marble floors.

Guests screamed and fled in panic, their masks slipping in their haste to escape the scene of the carnage unfolding before their eyes. All but one remained rooted to the spot, their gaze fixed on the lifeless form before them. Taking off their mask reveals a Black man with a scowl so deep in hatred that one would have thought he was the one who committed the murder. His dark brown eyes glower down at the body before being covered by the full face mask again. Quickly, he returned to the building, stomping down the velvet-covered stairs and pushing his way to the front of the small crowd around the crime scene.

As the crowd prayed, cried, and cursed the murderer to hell, the man's eyes focused on the wound on his neck. The gashes weren't a nice clean slice as if it were with a standard knife; they were thinner, deeper, and jagged with bits of flesh dangling and sticking out on the sides. No, a knife hadn't done this, but a set of claws-

"It was the Prowler!" a voice declared, "Look at the claw marks! That fucking bastard killed Alex!"

"I heard he's working with Fisk now. That fucking mammoth hated Alexander," another voice added, "He probably put a hit out."

"But on his wife's birthday? At a big event like this when we're all here?" A third chimed in. The second shook his head while pointing to Alexander's dead body.

"You don't know those men like I do; Alex was his number one enemy. When Fisk's family died, he asked Alex to help with some investments on some secret project; the hell if I know what it is. Alex said the fucker went batshit crazy when he lost his wife and was all over the news saying it too. It was supposed to be a wake-up call, but Fisk took that as disrespect and has been an enemy to the Blackwood family ever since. Dropping sponsorships, buying out companies, blocking his political power, I know that son of a bitch got something to do with this!"

The first voice suddenly reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a gun. "Fuck," he spat, "Fuck, fuck! To fucking hell with Fisk! I was THIS close to buying off those fucking votes! All that money gone to shit - where the FUCK is that purple bastard?! I'm putting a bullet through his head and then into Fisk's next!" With the sudden uproar, the first voice stormed back into the manor, which prompted others to do the same, all looking for the Prowler. He was already gone, however - he snuck out of the manor and into the thicket surrounding the manor, climbing onto his motorcycle and speeding off towards Brooklin. As he blares down the road, he tears off his mask again - brown eyes darkened as a single thought runs through his head.

That bitch stole my fucking kill.

Aaron swore to his momma that he’d never hit a girl, but this bitch was asking for it. It wasn’t the first time Black Cat had killed someone on his list; no, it’s been months since their first encounter. But for how long will this keep happening? The year is almost over, and he’s only been responsible for the deaths of four unlucky souls. Four, while she had six. Five of which were stolen right from his grasp. To say he was upset is an understatement. Annoyed? Oh, that’s long gone. Pissed? Maybe two months ago. Enraged? Closer, but not quite.

It’s gotten to the point where his work has become sloppy - disregarding his usual planned and strategic approach for a quicker and easier route just in case she was around. One time he even took a gunshot to his shoulder because of his blatant tunnel vision - Fisk gave him shit for it and benched him for a few weeks to heal before shoving him back into work. Aaron figures he’s going to be hooked on painkillers for a long while.

Speaking of the Kingpin, Aaron wasn’t sure how to explain what happened tonight, hell he doesn’t even know what happened tonight. All he knew was that he had only been at the party for around fifteen to twenty minutes before Sophia’s screams were heard. The party had only been going on for about ten minutes before he arrived, so within that thirty-minute window, Black Cat had arrived at the party, isolated Alexander, and killed him.

Based on his wounds, Aaron deduced that they weren’t deep enough to make a swift and easy kill. As he studied the evidence photos of Alexander after he hacked into the BPD police files, he zoomed in closely on the gashes. While it did look like claw marks, they were uneven and choppy. It wasn’t a clean strike either - it was slanted and angled more vertically than anything. A clear indication of a height difference, Aaron noted.

Alexander was six feet tall exactly; if Black Cat had struggled to get to his neck, she’d be closer to five feet in height, five feet and five inches at max. Aaron paused and wondered if she were wearing heels or platforms that night - it would make sense, considering she’d have to blend into a masquerade-styled party. That would put her shorter than five feet and five inches, the average height for women in Brooklyn. He wrote that down on a notepad and kept examining the photos.

The pieces of flesh that stuck out kept drawing his attention. It looked like the results of his prototype claw gauntlets. They were made of random and uncut metals that weren't accurately measured or maintained. The metal would often be too sharp or dull and get stuck underneath the victim’s skin due to the curvature of the claws. Once he drew back his hand, he would quite literally rip out the area of flesh he had made contact with. While it got the job done, it was a messy and loud kill, prompting him to update his weapon.

It was evident to Aaron that Black Cat’s weapon was similar to his prototype; however, one thing still bothered him - it was a silent kill. The initial contact had been on the side of his neck, still leaving enough airway to scream out for help or in pain. No one heard anything, and according to the witness statements, no one had noticed that Alexander was not present at the party. Aaron frowned at that detail - Alexander Blackwood wasn’t stupid. Someone, be it a guard or even his wife, had to have known he was separating himself from the partygoers. A man who has many enemies wouldn’t dare leave without alerting someone.

Another thing that bothered him was that Alexander wasn’t some snobby old rich guy. Blackwood was a black belt in his youth; he competed in and eventually founded various boxing matches and fight clubs across the United States. He was highly trained in artillery and probably would have been a military commander by now if he wasn’t in control of New York’s corrupt legal system. Simply put, Alexander Blackwood was a force to be reckoned with, just to be cut down by some female in a black leather jumpsuit. It just didn’t make sense.

All of Black Cat’s six kills before Alexander Blackwood had been young men and women of minor importance—quick money, as Aaron called it. The targets Fisk had assigned to the Prowler were gang leaders, drug dealers, and old henchmen whom Fisk no longer needed. This jump from stepping on an ant to straight-up maiming a lion was highly unusual for some uptown thief in a bodysuit. A whole year with little to no gains was starting to get to the mercenary; he needed to get to the bottom of this shit and quickly.

Aaron rubbed his hand across his face and turned towards another monitor, clicking on Google and searching up “Black Cat Brooklin.” He was hoping something new would pop up, but all he found were a few articles and stories he’d already researched.

There was a video that had gone viral a month ago; it was the CCTV footage of a jewelry store that the villainess had broken into. She wore her classic attire, mask, and a white straightened angled bob. Strolling around the store, she opened the displays and bagged all the merchandise, even trying on some and posing in a mirror hanging on the wall. Afterward, she shouldered the duffel bag, blew a kiss at the camera, and left out of the vent system she had used to get into the building. The uproar on memes and parodies of the event were all over Aaron’s feed for days. Women were gushing over her bad bitch aura, creating fan pages, and even going out and buying white wigs, dyes, and bundles just to look like her. And, of course, the men were practically fapping their dicks, saying how she was too delicate to go to prison, how they too would steal some shit in this economy; they were lowkey gassing her up more than the women did.

Aaron didn’t care enough to have an opinion; at that time, she was just some thief. But it’s different now, he thought, she’s more than a thief, she’s a killer. This year was the first year of her dipping her toes into homicide, and from Aaron’s knowledge, she hadn’t even been caught yet. Aaron wondered if those men and women would still support her after it’s exposed that she killed six people in over a year, but he figured they probably still would - the world is fucking crazy nowadays.

Right now at the moment, he was just mindlessly scrolling, clicking on the fan pages and profiles for any information he could gain on her. And then, after refreshing for the tenth time, a new video popped up titled “BLACK CAT HAS A NEW WEAPON (and it reminds me of someone 🤔) | New Look, New Tactics.” Aaron immediately clicked on the video and recognized the person in the commentary as an influencer who was one of the ones who made the robbing video famous by creating a whole trend based on it. The video started with random filler topics, which Aaron graciously skipped through before getting down to the central part of the video.

“Okay, guys, so let’s get to the tea; last night, Black Cat was seen scaling buildings and rooftops downtown with a new look, baby! Let’s look at what Miss Cat got going on for us,” the influencer starts, clicking on a Twitter thread showing a few off-guard pictures and videos of the thief.

“Oh, my God, you guys! Look at that fur, okay, hold on, I’m getting ahead of myself,” she laughed before viewing the first picture and zooming in. “Okay, first thing’s first, that hair, baby! Miss Cat said new hair, new me, and rocking this new do! Gone is her angled bob, replaced with these cute goddess passion twists; I love this! Of course, it’s colored in her signature platinum. Is it platinum? Platinum feels more yellow to me, maybe just plain white? Or maybe more like a frosty white, you know? Yeah, let’s go with that, haha! Edges are laid to perfection, makeup always looking fresh, ugh I’m telling all of you Miss Cat needs to open up shop cause I would pay-“

Aaron skipped ahead a little more; it’s nothing new that Black Cat constantly changed up her hairstyle and makeup looks. It's a smart move, considering how easy it is to track someone nowadays. Her indecisiveness is the sole reason no one has found out who she is; by the time they get comfortable with one look, it’s on to the next.

“Alright, so let’s talk about this new suit. So, I do get why most people say this isn’t a new suit. I mean, it is just the same suit with more fur, probably to keep warm since we are in winter, but I like to call it a new suit solely for these!” The influencer moves to the following picture, a close-up of Black Cat’s arms - which had two slender gauntlets with claw-like attachments. Aaron sat up and leaned towards the screen. Those looked familiar - real fucking familiar.

“That’s right, guys, Black Cat has a new weapon! This kitty has claws, and she is not afraid to use them! Many people say they love it; it’s on brand with the whole cat thing and a way better choice than the staff she used. I love the claws; they bring her a new, dangerous vibe. Like, before, she was just this common thief we all made jokes about, but now it’s like, damn, she's pretty serious about this. Miss Cat said to put some respect on her name; she isn’t any weak runt of the litter; she is THE Black Cat. Quit playing with her; this is serious business! Now, next, we have a quick little video of this new weapon in action, but before that, a quick word from our sponsor-“

Yeah, no, fuck that. Aaron skips again to where the video starts, and his leg bounces. There’s no way, there’s no fucking way, right? Right?

The video in the thread plays, and it shows Black Cat using the claws to climb up a brick wall, leaving significant scratch marks and puncture holes etched into the concrete. Then, once on top of the roof, she raises her hand and flexes it, which seems to trigger some mechanism as the claw part of the gauntlet shoots out and attaches itself to the edge of another roof two buildings across. Black Cat then runs and jumps off the roof she was currently on and uses the rope-like connection lodged between the claw part and the rest of the gauntlet. She swings towards the building, and on the video, the connection shortens, creating a grappling hook. The video shows her safely landing and repeating the action for another building before it ends.

The video cuts back to the influencer as she comments, “So, as we can see, it’s like a grappling hook, kind of? That’s cool; I wish I had a grappling hook. Then I could properly get to work on time when there’s traffic-“

Aaron exits the video before finding the Twitter thread and checking the comments. There are screenshots of the gauntlet from different angles and a few claims that it had sometimes glowed purple. After reading more and more comments about the description of the gauntlet, Aaron leans back in his chair and blinks.

That’s my gauntlet, he thinks; that’s my prototype.

Immediately, he calls Fisk - the one person Aaron trusted enough to leave the prototype with due to his high-security level warehouses and marked a sign of mutual trust between the two business partners. After quickly catching Fisk up to date, Fisk left to check the warehouse himself before confirming that the prototype was indeed missing - stating that they had numerous techs slowly disappear since the end of the previous year but couldn’t pin who it was or how they broke in.

The whole reason he wanted Alexander dead was because he was the only other person who knew where Fisk’s warehouses were, so the Kingpin thought he was the one who did it. Regardless, Fisk seemed intrigued that Aaron had made the connection to Black Cat, but Aaron was too busy breathing fire to even tune in on what the Kingpin was saying, causing him to drop the line altogether.

Aaron could feel the uncomfortable heat of anger creeping up his spine and seeping into his brain, as he returned to the thread and checked the new comments.

It didn't take long before the public started to bring up the Prowler’s weapon and their similarities. After rewatching the video five more times, Aaron noticed the prototype was tampered with. Every major flaw Aaron had trouble with had been fixed to a degree. Aaron closed his eyes and leaned back, his leg bouncing rapidly before suddenly stopping.

“It’s my prototype, he mumbles, “And she fixed it. She took my shit and made it better.” He slowly opens his eyes; green envy returns to his dark brown eyes. “First, she steals my kills, and now she steals my tech,” he chuckles before laughing and slamming his palm down onto his desk. “I am,” he laughs, “I am going to fucking end this bitch.”

Tag list: @mordeiswrld @arielpanda1 @young-dc @fossilizedbeetle @super-nova-2006 @chelsea-xxx2003 @fandom-multiamory @leahnicole1219

#black tumblr #x reader #across the spiderverse #miles morales #x female reader #aaron davis #aaron davis x reader #the prowler x black cat #the prowler x reader #the prowler #black cat #x black reader #x black oc #into the spider verse #spiderverse x reader #madiwrites

[camels-pen]

burning love

@sanusoweek Day 1 - Ice Skating / OT3

Summary:

Roses are red, Violets are nice, These guys are gay, Sanji falls through the ice.

Ao3 Link | sanuso week series | Day 2

Sanji skated a decently sized heart into the iced over lake, a tray of warm drinks in his hand as he called, “Usopp, my darling dearest beloved brightest—”

“We get it, Curly, what the fuck do you want?”

Sanji scowled. “I wasn’t talking to you, Mossy.” He looked around. “I’m looking for our angel of a boyfriend to deliver hot cocoa.”

“He’s busy.” Zoro jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. Sanji looked past him to Chopper in Horn Point, Luffy holding onto his antlers, and Usopp pulling Luffy backwards by his grip on Luffy’s waist. He had a big kissable grin on his face and oh, Sanji must’ve been struck by cupid’s arrow again because the wind blew just right through his curls and—

Zoro gripped his shoulder. “He’s busy.” 

Sanji rolled his eyes. If Luffy and Chopper couldn’t mess him up with all their loud laughter and squirming and Hurry up, Usopp! ‘s, then Sanji’s perfectly polite entrance wouldn’t do a thing.

“Thank you for your services, Mr. guard dog, but they’re no longer needed.”

“Don’t think you have the right to say that when you always look like you’re in fucking heat—”

Sanji slammed one skate into the ice, lifting the other into the air. “Be very careful with your next words.”

Zoro put a hand on his swords. “Or what? You’ll whimper?”

“DON’T YOU FUCKING—” Nami cut herself off with a shriek. “Robin, catch me! And stop them, please!”

Familiar hands grabbed his calf and thigh. He spotted two more gripping Zoro’s arms. “You’ll crack the ice if you fight,” Robin said somewhere behind Sanji. “And the shock of the cold water could make you involuntarily inhale and drown as you start to slowly lose feeling in your limbs.”

Sanji let the tension bleed from his body. “Sorry, Robin dear.” Zoro grunted his own acknowldgement and the hands disappeared.

“No, Diable either Sanji-bro,” Franky added as he skated around, Robin perched on one of his shoulders, a book between her gloved hands. “You’ll melt the ice and it’ll be a hell of a lot worse.”

He waved a hand. “Yeah, yeah, I get it.” He quickly spun around and took off. “Usopp dear! I’ve made you hot cocoa filled to the brim with all my love for you!”

Usopp a noise between a squeak and a shout and he stumbled. His arms pinwheeled, abruptly letting go of Luffy and sending him flying.

“Oh no, Luffy!” Chopper yelled. “Usopp, you said you wouldn’t send him that far!”

“Blame Sanji, not me!” he said, still wobbling back and forth with a beautiful red undertone to his dark skin. “Quick, you and boss Jinbei get after him!”

“Right!” Chopper switched to Walk Point, picked up a confused looking Jinbei by the shore and took off after Luffy.

“Shit—!” Usopp fell with a loud smack and a groan. “Zoro, you were supposed to not let Sanji distract me,” he whined.

“My bad.”

Sanji wasted no time offering a hand and pulling Usopp up. He pressed a kiss to Usopp’s forehead and the bottom of his nose, where it had bent against the ice. “I should’ve listened too, I’m sorry, love.”

Usopp grumbled, then stumbled again. “Ugh, my balance sucks,” he said, accepting the affection—and hot cocoa—with a smile. “How did you pick this up so fast?”

“I can show you.” Sanji pulled him closer by the hand, his arm finding its place at the small of his back. “Let me teach you, give you some private lessons.”

A thick arm suddenly wrapped around Usopp’s shoulders. “Hey, I’m better at skating than you, I’ll teach him.”

“Fuck off, we both know you’d just let him fall flat on his face every time.”

Zoro raised a brow.  “Well yeah, how else is he gonna learn?” 

“Goddamn mossheaded brute,”—he tugged Usopp closer to him—“I’m going to teach Usopp.”

“No, you’re just gonna coddle him.” Zoro pulled Usopp back.

“There’s a difference between coddling and not letting him get hurt, moron,” Sanji growled.

“Not with this there isn’t.”

Sanji slammed his forehead to Zoro’s. “You wanna go, you shitty piece of algae?!”

“Anytime, shit cook,” Zoro said, pushing him back.

“Hey, hey—” Usopp wiggled his way out from between them. “You don’t have to fight!”

“Yes, we do,” they said in unison.

“God, you two.” Sanji couldn’t see what he was doing, but the next thing he knew there was a trail of soft kisses from his cheek to his jaw. He closed his eyes with a hum, a pleasant flush crawling up his neck. He heard another series of kisses and felt Zoro pull away.

Usopp huffed and Sanji blinked his eyes open to look at him. “Honestly, you can both teach me,” he said, arms on his hips and a smile on his face.

Zoro turned away, his ears dusting pink. “Yeah, alright.”

Usopp turned to Sanji. A grin split Sanji’s face.

“Oh, my dearest and most beloved boyfriend, how you bless me so! I, of course, will heed your wishes. Nothing compares to such a thoughtful gift upon my person.” He twirled around a few times. His heart beat rapidly in his chest, his burning love growing hotter and hotter all throughout his body. “In exchange let me regale you with a poem: roses are red, violets are nice—”

There was a crack.

Sanji fell through the ice.

#one piece #sanuso #zosanuso #zosansopp #usopp #sanji #roronoa zoro #sanusoweek #nemo the writing ho #wahoo #im glad i could finish this