Delivery Driver Reader Is Just So Fun To Think About For Me, Especially If They're Aware Of The Yanderes

Not the shoulder pat in a date 💀

I wouldn't mind holding your hand. I guess.

13 from creativepromptsforwriting's Grumpy Affectionate Dialogue list.

Cloud Strife x reader Fluff

--

"So, how'd it go?" Tifa asks the second you've walked through the door - it hadn't even closed properly behind you yet. Had she been waiting to pounce? "We don't say hello now?" You raise an eyebrow, shrugging off your jacket. You’d been dreading her interrogation - it had been a sleepless night.

"Hello.” She grins. “How'd it go?" She puts her hands down on the counter and leans forward as you approach.

"Fine." You shrug, going to lift up the latch to join her behind the bar, but Tifa is quick – shifting so she’s now leaning on top of it, blocking your entrance.

“You pay me to work here, remember?”

“And do you see any customers? Anyway, this is important. I don’t think you understand how rare it is to go on a date with Cloud Strife. Spill!”

You sigh, sitting down heavily on the stool. Really, you should’ve known that the brunette would be keen to hear every single detail…

You’d started working at Seventh Heaven nearly four months ago now. Before Meteor, you’d worked in Wall Market as a cocktail waitress, doing bar tricks to earn tips off a bunch of Shira employees. It was just by chance you’d been walking by when Tifa had put up the help wanted sign in the window. The two of you had got on immediately and your skills honed behind the bar meant you could really start straightaway. The first time you’d seen Cloud walk in, you were immediately attracted to him - the blue eyes, blonde hair, the muscular, toned arms on display... Who wouldn’t be? He, however, seemed very indifferent to you, though Tifa disagreed. “He’s shy. He likes you - I promise."

It felt odd at first when she deemed herself a matchmaker – Cloud and her shared an apartment, with two kids – Denzel and Marlene – she assured you they were strictly platonic and she’d love to see him without a scowl on his face. Apparently he was always interested when you were working, especially if you were on a closing shift. Now everyone was based in Edge, all sorts frequented the bar. You’d experienced the same in Wall Market and weren’t afraid to cut people off but it was nice to have some sort of muscle around in case anyone became a little out of line. You thought it was Tifa’s doing, as Cloud would always offer up his services on the nights you were responsible for closing, even walking you home afterwards. When you’d thank him, he’d shrug, saying not to think anything of it.

He was chivalrous, you’d reasoned, trying not to get your hopes up there was something more to it, until two nights ago when he’d lingered at the point he’d usually head off when you’d unlocked your front door.

“Wait.” You span round on your heels at the sound of his voice, surprised that he’d gone off routine. “Erm, would you… Would you like to have dinner tomorrow night? With me.”

“With you?” You’re stunned.

“Forget I said-“

“No, I’d love to.” You interrupted, worried you’d blown it.

“Okay. Great. Er, I’ll text you.” And Cloud had then strode off into the night before you could say another word.

He’d texted - you assumed he’d got your number off Tifa from her string of texts the next morning - saying he’d pick you up from yours at 7, that he’d got a table at a restaurant nearby. You’d walked past it a few times but never been, and it seemed a popular spot for first dates - intimate, yet not overly fancy. He’d arrived promptly, saying you looked "nice" and that’s where things had gone a little downhill. There was nothing that happened to really distinguish this as a date...

“He didn’t get within three feet of me at any time the walk there, or the walk back. I know he’s quiet, but besides asking me if the food was okay, he didn’t say much at all at dinner. And then, after he’d walked me home, I said I’d had a really nice time, trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, thinking he was nervous, you know?" Tifa nods. "But then he stepped forward, thanked me and clapped me on the shoulder, before he strode off.” You lay your head down on your arms. “It was a pity date, Tifa.”

“Okay, Cloud’s more hopeless than I thought,” she pats you gently on the head, “but it wasn’t a pity date. He set it all up because he wanted to take you out, I promise.”

“He could’ve swung that big sword of his all around him and not hit me, the distance he was keeping.” You continue talking into your arms, your voice muffled.

“I’ll talk to him.”

“No, don’t!" Your head shoots up, “That’ll make me look and feel even more pathetic. I don’t know what I was thinking. It’s a wake-up call.”

“You’re not pathetic. He’s just shy. Plus, I bet he’s feeling even worse than you are. He was out before I even woke up this morning.” She pauses, grinning slyly. “I did think that he might’ve stayed the night at yours…”

Your face flushes at that. “What?! No. He couldn’t get away from me fast enough.” The door opens and the two of you look, you praying it's not Cloud. "Delivery!" A man chirps. "Enough about my dismal love life, okay?" You get to your feet and go to take in the stock.

--

You got home that evening just after 6pm, preparing yourself for a quiet evening and an early night after the sleepless one before. It was surprising when there was a knock at the door an hour or so later – you weren’t expecting anyone. You looked through the eyehole and were nervous to see the tell-tale spikes of blonde hair, a nervous expression across Cloud’s face. Had Tifa spoken to him? Oh, Shiva…

You unlock the door, pulling it open cautiously.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” He smiles, a little awkwardly, but it’s sweet too. “Sorry, are you busy? I should’ve texted…”

“No, not at all.” You curse inwardly, you could’ve phrased that differently, sound more aloof. “What brings you here?”

“Uh, yeah…” It’s then you notice he has a hand behind his back. It’s quickly whipped out in front of you, holding a small, handpicked bouquet of pink, white and yellow flowers. “I wanted to give you these.”

“Cloud…” Your eyes widen, taking in the display. They’re the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen. “Thank you.” You accept them delicately, worried they might wilt instantly if you’re too rough with them.

“Would you like to go for a walk?”

“Sure. Let me just put these in water. Erm, do you want to come in?” You step back in anticipation.

“No, I’ll wait here.” He folds his arms.

“Oh, okay,” you nod. “I won’t be long.” You let the door swing close behind you, still holding the flowers so delicately. He delivers you hand-picked flowers but doesn’t want to come in? Is he breaking up with you? Can you break up even if you weren’t together in the first place? You grab a glass, filling it with water from the tap and placing the small bouquet in gently, before setting it down in the windowsill. You wonder if you’ll look at them in the same light when you return.

--

Edge, like its predecessor, had never been a pretty city in the desert. In the early evening though, fairy lights donned by the surrounding buildings cast a nice glow about the place and it was quiet as the two of you strolled through. Cloud hadn’t been the most talkative, as usual. Sometimes it looked like he wanted to say something, a comment on the tip of his tongue, but then his mouth would close and he’d nod to whatever nonsense you were spouting to fill the silence. It was at one of those moments when you hadn’t particularly been paying attention to where you were walking, catching your foot on an uneven part of the ground. You brace yourself for the impact and the embarrassment, but a hand grabs your own, yanking you back and upright, another hand on the small of your back – Cloud.

“You okay?” His brow is furrowed in concern. Your heart is thudding at the shock of tripping, or maybe the closeness of you two? It’s hard to tell.

“Y-yeah. Sorry, clumsy,” you know your face is red. “Thanks.” The hand from your back falls away, deeming your balance stable enough but your other hand isn’t released straightaway. You look down at the appendage in question, Cloud’s hand firmly clasped around yours. His eyes follow what you’re looking at and he seems to realise as his cheeks grow flush in the dim light of dusk, letting go abruptly.

“Do you even like me?” The question slips out of your mouth before you can even think what you’re saying. He looks almost startled by the directness of it.

“I thought the date and flowers made that obvious.”

“The flowers, okay, but the date and just now… Like, I know not everyone’s keen on public displays of affection, but you don’t even want to be within arm’s length of me…”

“I wouldn’t mind holding your hand. I guess.” It’s mumbled, his blue eyes directing at the ground.

“What?” You wonder if you misheard.

“I’d quite like to, to be honest. I’m just…” He meets your eyes at this point. “I haven’t really done this before.”

“That’s okay, neither have I.”

He looks sceptical. “That can’t be true.”

“I wasn’t exactly surrounded by gentlemen wanting to sweep me off my feet in Wall Market,” you smile. “Besides, it means we can try and work this stuff out together, if you want.” You hold your hand out, hoping he won’t notice the slight tremor.

To your relief, he takes it, deftly lacing his fingers through your own.

“I’d like that.”

- Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi

dumb little cute little kissable cheeks and face WHAT

This is more centered around Wayne and eddie cause we got robbed of seeing them together. Reader is coming over to watch a movie with eddie (maybe they're new and eddie was nice to them and reade had nothing to do that day or something.) So eddie is panicking and wayne finds it hilarious.

I JUST- I CANT ENOUGH OF EDDIE AND WAYNE I DEMAND MORE FICS

"i've got a girl coming over."

the mug in his hand stops halfway, newspaper falling backwards with the lack of support. wayne's head lowers, looks up at his nephew—who looks...proper, today—through his short eyelashes.

"well, that's a first," he sips his coffee, tongue scorched but it's not as painful as it used to be. "you babysitting or something?"

"n-no," eddie fiddles with his rings, fixing everything on the desk he's standing next to. he fixes the mugs he bought for his uncle, the scattered pens and folding the bills, shoving it inside a drawer. "she's a friend- did you shower today?"

wayne furrows his eyebrows. "i shower everyday, excuse you."

but he doesn't believe it. he saunters over to him, leaning down to take a whiff of his shoulder which makes wayne swat him away with his newspaper.

"what the hell?"

"you smell okay," eddie straightens his back. "listen, she wants to meet you."

wayne chuckles, closing his newspaper. "you didn't tell me you had a girlfriend,"

"she's not!" he blushes profusely, mostly out of embarrassment that he's blushing in front of his uncle like he'd asked eddie about a crush he had when he was in first grade. "she just wants to hang out and she says she wants to get to know you."

he buys it just a bit, standing up from his seat. "well, whaddya both plan on doing today?"

"watching a movie,"

"boring," he snorts. "when i was your age, i took girls out on dates outside of town. ate at diners, watched movies at cinemas, then we'd get behind my car and-"

"okay well first, the cinema's down. second, i'm not ready to have that conversation yet and i don't think i will," eddie tugs on his jacket, chin jutted with pride. "besides, you're too late for that."

"glad to know that,"

"do we have mugs?"

wayne shrugs. "i don't know. why don't you check the shelves. you give me at least three every year. father's day, my birthday, christmas. wonder how many mugs we got."

eddie rolls his eyes. "haha. funny,"

-

when wayne sees you exit eddie's van from the porch, he certainly didn't expect you'd look like a freshly picked flower from a meadow; you looked too soft for eddie, in his opinion, despite your style as he so calls it. but he's happy his nephews happy with you.

eddie senses your nervousness, couldn't help himself but let a hand hover on the small of your back as you both make your way to his uncle who's stepping on his cigarette until it dies down.

"hi!" you quip. "i'm (y/n). you must be—"

"wayne," he shakes your hand. "eddie's therapist,"

"oh!"

"i'm kidding," he lets go of your hand, ignoring the murderous glare of eddie who towers behind you. "i'm his uncle. glad to meet you. he's never shut up about you."

that was a lie. he only heard about you earlier. but he loves to inflict embarrassment.

your cheeks roseate, looking back at eddie who's eyes burn holes at the bald head of his uncle who raises his brows as if to ask what had been wrong. eddie shakes his head, finally letting his hand settle on the dip of your spine as he leads you inside.

"welcome to my humble abode, provided by my ever loving uncle," you observe the baby picture beside the small television, with a much younger wayne with darker hair and a mush of curls coating the top of his head, and an eddie who's smiling brightly with missing teeth, his uncle's hands resting on his chest. "that's me."

"cute," you chuckle. eddie looks at wayne, who gives him a thumbs up and crosses his arms. "what movie are we watching?"

"the fly," eddie says, looking over the table where the dvd rests. wayne snorts, which makes you whip your head at him that he apologizes with a smile. "j-jeff goldblum's in it,"

"nice,"

"hey, uncle wayne?" eddie's voice cracks, wincing but luckily enough you're still at your curiosity venture. "do we have any candles? those long, good smelling sticks that you use when you cook?"

his face blanks. "eds, we never had candles. and we ran out of those good smelling sticks. write them down on the grocery list for me, would ya?" eddie nods, and he pats him on the shoulder. "miss (y/n), sad i wouldn't be able to stay longer but," he takes his cap from a rack. "duty calls."

"oh, it's okay," you smile at him. "i'll take good care of eddie, sir. make sure he's taking all his vitamins and tell me all about his childhood,"

"roger that," wayne tugs his nephew by the shoulder, reaching for his pocket as he leans in to whisper. "now, eddie, you know i'm old. and you know you've got two months left till you leave that hell of a pit, so here's a little gift,"

he takes his hand, opening it widely before he slams something plastic in eddie's palm. when wayne removes his hand, he winces at the sight of the trojan condom in his hand.

"what the fuck?!" he looks behind frantically to make sure you weren't looking before eddie shoves it in his pocket. "i just met her last week!"

"well, you never know,"

reblogs and feedback are appreciated <3

the idea that your friends won't like you if you're too weird is wrong for example one time I told a friend whenever I was losing my mind I laid down on the floor under my desk and stared at it until I was better and next time she visited me she taped a bag of salami snacks to the underside of my desk with a message saying "going insane all by yourself, handsome?" which I only saw months later when I had a breakdown. that's friendship.

Crybaby part. 4

pairing: Bakugou X Fem Reader

Summary: With the bills piling up and no way to know when you will be able to return to work. Your roommate suggests you take a call center job where you can work from home. The job? being an anonymous person for Pro Heroes to vent to.

But no amount of training could prepare you for just how quickly your first caller makes you cry.

Genre: Strangers to lovers, Pro Hero AU

Wordcount: 27.2k Part 4/6 (this chapter 6.7k)

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

(If you would like to be added to the tag list, please leave me a comment so I know to tag you next update♥)

Also posted on AO3 (most of my work is hanging out there♥ please check it out!)

Warnings: use of pet names, cursing, and more sassiness! Mentions of drinking and partying. Phone sex, use of sex toys. fluff, lots of fluff. Dirty talk.

You were trying your best to ignore the way you twitched every time your phone made a notification. Resisting the urge to immediately grab it. Only to sadly realize it was just an email or something from one of your games.

You knew what you hoped to find as much as you hated admitting it. You were longing for him to call, text something. Anything at this point to get him to talk to you again?

But you knew it would do much good right now. The last thing you heard from him was over a week ago. He sent you a simple text that said he had a mission and he wasn't going to be able to contact you.

You were going on week two of not talking to your mystery hero, all because he had an important job or something. He didn't give you a time frame on when he would be back, just that he would contact you when he could.

You suppose it was nice of him to give you the heads up, but all it did was made you worry. It was clear from the one picture he sent you that he was built to withstand almost anything. Strong, large, and built like an Olympian God.

But you always have been the type to fret over people, even if you didn't want to.

That's why on the way back from your appointment to get the rest of the stitches out of your hand. You couldn’t help but let yourself do a little shopping. Using your scooter was so much easier now that you were accustomed to driving it. And now that you had both hands you were really moving.

Leaving the doctor's office you stop by a little restaurant on the good side of town. And when you said good, what you really meant was fancy. The streets were clean, well kept and all the buildings blended in together, unlike your own.

With the extra money, you had been pulling lately your roommate decided to tag along. Since this was the first time both of you had some extra money to blow. So she fetched the waiter as you found a nice little table outside on the patio to stroll over to.

"This place is bougie," She remarks as she sits down in the chair beside you. "I feel so fancy right now."

You laugh because it was rare that the two of you had a day off together anymore. Let alone time to actually go out and do something. Except for the week you were staying in the hotel, but last month you didn't have the kind of money you now have.

It was a nice peaceful lunch the two of you shared. Day drinking and searching the crowd for available cute men to eye up and down. But even that lost its joy soon enough because you were still missing someone.

"You know he will call when he can right?" Your roommate says eyeing you as she takes a sip from her dwindling drink.

"I know, it just sucks that I have to wait around all worried about him."

You had to vent the next morning when you woke up. Your guilty conscience had been eating away at you. From the time you saw his picture until you couldn't help but confess all your sins to her.

She kept all your secrets of course, but she was more than invested in your new love life. She promised not to tell a soul about how you had worked your way around the work codes. And managed to snag this guy's number. Or how you were convinced he was toying around with you all because he could.

She really was the worst though because she was not so silently egging the entire situation on. Begging for more Information. Asking if he had any cute single friends. Hell, she was already trying to plan the wedding!

She was also the reason why you were now standing inside this fancy-ass lingerie store. Panicking as she helped you pick out something new. She convinced you that all you needed was to spend a little extra time making yourself feel beautiful. And maybe a little sexy so you could understand how hot you really were.

But as she offered each set of matching bras and panties you couldn't help but feel anxious. This was so far out of your comfort zone. You didn't dress like this. Especially with the intention of seeing yourself dressed provocatively.

But with a little reassurance. And some help from the woman at the store you left with not one but three different styles of lingerie. And as soon as you managed to open the door. She was busting at the seams trying to get you to let her doll you up, and take pictures.

And you figured why not. It had been a really long time since you even did your hair, you could dress a little fun. And flirty for a bit.

So she began her work, fixing your hair, forcing it into a style that framed your face well. Making sure that all your flyaways were tamed and she started on your makeup.

She was always so much better at it than you were. She had years worth of experience in mixing foundations to get just the right color. and she had the most amazing trick for getting both sides of your eyeliner to line up.

And you had to admit that once you saw the final product. You were just about convinced she had made a pact with the devil himself. You looked, killer. Hair did, and makeup was flawless. But as she started pulling out your new garments from the store you almost lost your nerve.

"Why don't we start with this one?" She said holding up the most conservative-looking piece.

It was a cream-colored satin night dress. Delicate roses and other flowers adorn various places along the material. It had been the first one that you agreed to buy because it did look pretty.

She was clever in the way she had you pose. Hiding the cast from the camera with a sheet as she had you lay on the bed. Ass poking up just a touch, and legs spread enough to give yourself a bit of an arch.

And with each outfit she had you doing some wild stuff. The next one was a lot more riske. Black high-waisted panties and a barely there bra. Straps hanging and pulled taught against the curves of your body. Doing more suggestive poses every time the camera on your phone clicks.

The final piece was the one that you had the most reservations about. It was sheer completely. Only tiny little embroidered flowers are set against a burnt orange mesh. Being the only pieces that you couldn't see through. It was tight, pushing your breasts to an unnatural height. The thong firmly embedded into your backside. She got pictures of it from every single angle.

You had to admit though once you saw the results you would bang yourself without a second thought. She had a way of working angles to make every picture of you look amazing. You really had to hand it to her, she knew her stuff!

"Why don't we try some with just a sheet?" She asks as you sit on the bed thumbing through some of the pictures.

"What?" You ask turning your head up to look at her.

"Come on! Have I steered you wrong before? Besides, we gotta give your mystery man something for the spank bank." She winks at you and you immediately feel the heat rise to your face. Cheeks and ears are burning at the thought of him.

"These never see the light of day!" You bark, throwing your phone on the bed. "I will die."

"Nah, we gotta bag us that boy now."

"I like how this went from being me, To we!" You laugh.

But you are already fiddling with the clasp of your bra and letting it slide off your body. Ten minutes later she has you posed in such a way you were starting to get a backache from it. Spread on all fours. Sheet gracefully wrapped in your hands and you slid forward and pull the fabric around your body. Leaving more than enough skin to get the idea you were naked underneath. Most of your weight deposited between your elbows and knees back arched deep. Head turned away from the camera giggling like a schoolgirl.

"If these don't bag you a man, I'm still single." She whistles as she clicks the camera on your phone one last time.

You can't help but giggle at her words. She took her role as best friend seriously. Hyping you up over the most stupid and mundane things. Being supportive even when you didn't feel confident. You really appreciated the small things she did for you all the time. Even if they pushed you out of your comfort zone.

Most of your afternoon was spent in various positions on your bed, but your body felt exhausted. It was so much moving and it put a lot of pressure on your body to stay In the pose she wanted.

Satisfied with her work she finally set you free from your torture. She herself had a date tonight and she needed to start getting ready half an hour ago.

And for you? Well, you figured eating some leftovers and a nice bath was going to be the best medicine for your aching body. So as she headed out the door heels clacking against the floor as she ran. You heated up your food and ate in the kitchen.

All the while still scrolling through the pictures on your phone. And that's when you let your body move on autopilot, clicking on the one picture you really liked. The one where you were arched up at a high angle. Your legs parted and you could only see half of your face in the shot. It was of the satin night dress and out of all the pictures you had taken it looked the best on you. Just enough skin to suggest something more could happen. But it covered enough that you weren’t uncomfortable with your body in it.

Without much thought, you click and add it to the message on the still unsaved number in your phone. Typing out “thinking of you” in the message bar.

But it was only a moment later you started to lose your nerves about actually sending it. His faceless picture of his sculpted abs. Still visible from your previous conversation.

You heavily debated on if sending them was a smart idea or not. He may not appreciate your lewds the way your roommate did. You try to think of if you were in the same predicament. Would you want an unsolicited set of pictures from someone you didn’t know?

Suddenly you grew self-conscious the more you thought about it. What if your mystery man didn’t like the way you looked? What if you weren’t his type? What if he liked a girl with more class than you possessed? Someone who wouldn’t send him these types of pictures.

What if he thought you were ugly?

That was more than enough to get you to exit out of your text and place your phone face down on the countertop. Now that you were thinking about it, what would doing any of this really accomplish? You would never be able to meet him. And even if you did he was sure to ghost you once he realized you didn’t have a quirk.

With a heavy sigh, you limp your way into the bathroom and start running a bath. Nice and hot, the steam filled the tiny space quickly. Now, that you had time to practice balancing your body. It was easier to disrobe and slide yourself into the heated water of the tub. Instantly feeling your muscles relax with the added heat.

But even the relaxation of your bath couldn’t keep your mind from wandering back to him. Was he ok? Was he out there right now fighting for his life against some villain? You hoped that he was taking care of himself at least. Not being stubborn when one of his friends asked him to visit the doctor again.

You shudder at the thought that he was willing to let his injuries go untreated. Just because he wanted to be stubborn.

You spend a while just soaking in your water and thoughts. Everything from soapy bubbles to swirling emotions fills the bathroom. This is one of the reasons you think that the company you worked for was trying so hard to fight. Keeping everyone anonymous, so feelings wouldn’t get attached.

You hated that you missed him, but you hated that you could talk to him more. It was such a weird set of emotions that you were putting yourself through. Reaching for your phone you go to pull up his number again. Sending the small message you had typed out in the text bar before you hit send. Closing your phone and sitting it back down.

If nothing else you did it for yourself. You know it would make you feel better if you had been away after a long and hard work day. To pull up your texts and see that someone thought about you enough to send you a message. Even if it was small, just a few words would mean the world to you.

You only hoped he would feel the same once he read it, whenever that would be.

Dragging yourself up you pull the plug from the drain and slowly the water starts to go down. And as you pull yourself from the tub and start to dry off. Taking your time drying your body. Making sure to moisturize your skin before slipping into your simple set of old and worn pajamas. Hopping your way out of the bathroom and over to your bed. You don’t even bother to plug up your phone before you fall asleep.

Casually dreaming that your hero was ok, wherever he was.

Four days had passed by the last message you sent him. Four long and boring days of going back to your job and you are sitting at your desk. Just about to end your final call for the day. The woman you had on the phone wanted to talk and talk and then talk some more. Which was fine, but it had been three hours of her nonstop blabbering. And you were growing tired.

"And then he had the audacity to turn me down!" She whines into the phone.

Only half paying attention to her you yawn before you ask her a question.

"Which one?"

"Dynamight! Like he thinks he is all that and more. Don't let that cute face fool you, he is nothing but a menace."

"I'm sure he is." You reply.

But even you weren't immune to his charm. He was rough around the edges and attractive. You understood why people would be willing to throw themselves. At the current number two hero. If you were brave enough and had more confidence you would too. He was handsome, eyes full of fire, and a cocky attitude to match.

But if it was impossible for another pro to get a chance with him. You wouldn't even be given a single moment of his time. You didn't have a flashy quirk. Or the confidence to even order yourself a coffee at the new bakery. That opened down the street for two months. He would never go for a normal, boring person like you.

"Oh dear, there's the alarm! Thank you for listening to me!" The lady says as you hear the all too familiar siren sounding off in the background.

It was the same, no matter who you happen to be talking to. Loud and quick, able to alert just about anyone that something urgent was happening. You first heard it when you were on the call with your hero. He hung up on you without a second thought as he rushed to answer the alarm. Which was understandable, they were heroes. It was their job to do all the dangerous work that most of the population couldn’t. You couldn’t hold it against them, even if it seemed like a rude thing to do.

"Good luck, come back safe!" You tell her with a little more pep in your voice as you end the phone call.

You sit back in your chair and let yourself decompress. It felt like the entire day had dragged on, refusing to end. Your shoulders were aching and your lower back was on fire from not being able to move around much.

All you wanted to do was lay in your bed and finally get a moment's peace. That was until a soft know sounded at your door.

"Hey hun, some of us are headed out tonight, would you like to join?" She asks already half dressed.

"Nah, I'm exhausted. Think I'm just gonna call it a night."

"Ok, grandma. Don't party too hard while I'm gone." She snickers.

"I'll only do the hard drugs, and commit two felonies! I'm taking it easy tonight." You laugh as she shakes her head.

"Thank God, We don't have the bail money for three felonies!" She laughs.

"Have fun! And be safe, please. Call me if you need anything." You can't help but plead with her.

You know she has a horrible habit of getting drunk and running off if she was given the opportunity to. You had spent many nights chasing her down, shooing men away from her flirtatious words. Slowly convincing her to come back to the table and have some water.

You say your goodbyes and shortly after you hear the front door close. Well, that left you with nothing but your bed to keep you company. The house was quiet and you enjoyed the silence. After spending your days getting your ear talked off. It was a pleasant change to be able to sit with your own thoughts for a bit.

You didn't even bother to turn on the tv or look at your phone. Everyone you talked to was out anyway. But you just spend a while not bothering to let your mind think of anything in particular. Tossing yourself around in your bed, getting comfortable the longer you lay there.

It was evening, and the sun was going down. But you couldn't keep your eyes from fluttering shut the longer you lazed about. Sleep took over before the sun had even fully set in the sky. And you were sleeping well, hard even that was until you hear the quick notification go off on your phone.

But it still wasn't enough to pull you from your heavy sleep. Just as you turn your head in the other direction. Another notification goes off from your bedside table.

With a sleepy hand coming up to rub your eyes you try your best to wake up. Your eyes were still heavy from the nap and the darkness in your room now. It was difficult to make your body come alive once again. Your phone dings with a notification, and you reluctantly start to move to pick up your phone. You hadn't even grabbed and before the screen lit up with an incoming call.

Closing your eyes to shield them from the bright screen you answer the phone with a sleepy yawn and hello.

"You must have been thinking about me awful hard there princess."

It was a dream, you had to still be dreaming that he had called you. It had been so long since the last time you had heard his voice that now even in your sleep it was haunting you.

"Your not real." You mutter wiping your hand along your face.

You were still too deep in your sleep to connect the dots right away. To realize he was actually on the phone with you, berating you after almost two weeks of no communication.

"I'm real something right now. Tired, pent up, frustrated by that fucking text you sent me."

"My text?" You frown slightly at hearing his choice of words. "I thought it would be nice to see a familiar face once you were able to check your phone."

You guess you were wrong to assume that he wanted anything to do with you before he was ready to call. He sounded frustrated by your text, which wasn't the point of it.

You can Hear him growl as stuff is being moved around aggressively on his side of the line. and the sound of water running, shortly after. It took him a couple of seconds but he comes back and you could swear that you hear him in the bathroom.

"What are you doing?" You ask sitting up slightly.

"Getting in the shower, the only place I get any fucking privacy." He growls.

"Yo-, you can call me later. You didn't have to call me right now." You panic.

If he was about to get naked and climb in the shower. The last thing he needed was for your annoying ass voice to be still jabbering his ears off. With some half-asleep apology for bothering him via text.

"Think you can just send me something like that and not expect me to do something about it?"

"My text? What was wrong with it?" You ask innocently.

You didn’t have the heart for him to yell at you right now. You just wanted him to maybe wake up to a nice text is all. You didn’t expect with the way your conversations had been going that he would get upset with you over it. The thought kept ringing in your mind that you somehow had crossed some unknown boundary. That he had set without telling you.

"That picture meant for me?" He asked, a voice full of something you couldn't quite place.

And you feel all the blood drain from your face. As quickly as you could you scramble to pull up your text log with his number. And you realize in horror exactly what he was referring to. Sent from you four days ago was the text you had sent. But like a fucking idiot you had sent that fucking picture of yourself as well.

You completely forgot to delete it before you sent the message.

“I am so sorry!” You already feel the heavy tears of embarrassment welling up in your eyes. “I didn’t mean to send that to you! I was just trying to send you a nice text and I didn’t-” He cut you off mid-rant.

“Who was it for then?” He barks and you can hear the anger in his voice.

But you couldn’t find your voice at the moment, now that he wanted an answer. Was he mad because you sent the pic to him, or did he think you were trying to send it to someone else that had him mad?

You could hear his heavy pants for breath and the water as it splashed down into the shower. He was waiting on you to give him some kind of answer, but you didn’t know what would soothe his anger faster. Admitting the truth that you fucked up and should have never sent it, or lie and say it was meant for someone else.

“Answer me brat.”

And you don’t know why, but the way his words rolled off his tongue half feral and hot made your semi-awake body jolt to life. He was being mean again. But instead of the tears threatening to spill from your eyes from shame. They were welling up now because of the heat that was soaring its way through your limbs. There was no reason for him to call you a brat but sound like that as he said it.

“T, they were for you!” You finally admit. “My roommate convinced me to buy some stupid lingerie and we took some photos. I didn’t know I sent it with the text, I thought I deleted it.”

He didn’t answer you right away, and it only made you squirm around in your bed more. Listening to his heavy breath and the way he groaned as the water cascaded down around him.

“I’m sorry,” You mutter out softly.

Probably too soft for him to hear over to roar of his shower. But it took him only a moment to laugh that sinful ass laugh he had.

“Told you to stop apologizing when you didn’t do nothin’ wrong.”

"Isn't that why you're mad?" You ask confused. "Because I overstepped a boundary?"

"I'm mad because I've been hard as a rock for two fucking hours!"

If you didn't know any better you would take that as he liked what he saw. But in your mind it just wasn't clicking, how could someone like him even find you attractive? The man had the body of a God, but he found your soft body likable?

"Why?" Is the only thing you can force out of your mouth.

It was stupid really. Why of all things you could have said, was that the thing that flew out of your mouth?

"You just like playing stupid or somethin'?" He asks his voice low. "How could I not be when your face down and ass up, laying there so pretty for me?" He moans finally and you swear you feel your body melt into the bed. "Were you thinking of me when you were takin em?"

You can't help but let yourself fall back into bed. Stunned and completely turned on by the sounds you are blessed with. His pants for air coming in louder, mixing with the flowing water from his shower. It didn't last long though because you hear the water shut off. And the sounds of the curtain being ripped open on his end.

"You might have crossed my mind a time or two." You admit shyly.

"I know you took more show 'em to me."

"No." You whisper

There was no way you could show him the other ones.

"Sweetheart I'll leave this mission, and be banging on your door in less than an hour. If you know what's good for you you'll send em."

And God, if he sounded sexy when he was mad. Then the pure dominance in his voice was enough to make even the most prude of people wither away. You couldn't deny his demands, not when he sounded like that. Quickly you pull up your photos and add one of each set you did. All in different positions and angles. If he wanted to see more. Who were you to tell him no again?

The world needed saving, and if it meant that it kept him there long enough to finish his mission. Then you were just doing what any good citizen would, right?

"Fuck Sweetheart. Do you even know what I wanna do to you right now?"

You have to rub your thighs together. Failing to relieve any of the building tension growing between your legs. Your mind instantly jumps to all the things you were willing to let him do to you if he was here.

"What would you do?"

And before you even have a chance to bring your phone back yo to your ear your screen lights up with a new message. Quickly you open your texts and your eyes roll back in your head at what you see. His massive hand was wrapped firmly at the base of his cock. A small tuft of neatly trimmed blond hair sat at the base. Thick, blue veins ran up the length of him to the angry-looking pink head. Maybe you were being biased here, but it had to be one of the prettiest disks you've ever seen.

"That broken leg wouldn't be the only thing hindering your ability to walk." You can almost picture the smirk he has on his face as the words leave his mouth. "Where are you at?" He rasps into the phone.

"In bed, why?" You ask flustered beyond belief.

"Anyone home?"

"No."

You hear him open a door and start to yell into the room he just walked into.

"Get the fuck out!"

And you hear the groans of at least two other men in the room.

"Come on man, we just got back! Give me a couple of minutes." You hear the familiar voice of the guy from before.

The one who you had to help guilt trip your hero with. His happy voice sounded tired as you continued to listen in.

"I don't give a fuck, I got shit to do." He barks.

"Oh Kacchan before I forget!"

"Later!" He cuts the other familiar voice off.

You hear a slight commotion go on before a door slams shut. A heavy sigh left his lips.

"Strip for me." He says getting back to his conversation with you.

"You can't be serious!" You say refusing to move.

"Dead fuckin serious princess. You're gonna help me fix this problem you caused. Now strip."

His time didn't leave you room to argue. If anything all it did was send a massive amount of butterflies around your stomach. Placing your phone on speaker you sit it down 9n the bed beside you. Grabbing the hem of the oversized t-shirt you wore and left it up and over your head letting it fall to the side. You hesitantly grab the band of your panties, unsure if you really want to pull them away from your body.

"Those too." He remarks.

It was like he knew ew exactly what was going through your mind.

You pull them down off of your hips and sit back down on your ass, pulling the garment down and off of your legs. Clear strings connect you to the lace as you pull them away from your body.

Evidence of just how aroused you had become.

"I, I've never done this before." You say softly, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious again.

"You have the best hero here to walk you through it." He coos. "I know you have toys princess, so grab your favorite one and lay back for me."

You couldn't even be bothered to feel embarrassed as he calls you out. Reaching over you open your bedside table, pulling out your favorite vibrator. Doing as you told you lay back in bed and hit the power button. Letting him hear the soft buzzing sound come to life in your hand.

"Someone's eager aren't we?" He chuckles. "Close your eyes, and turn that shit off for now."

With a small huff, you follow his instructions, dropping the dildo to the side, and letting it roll to a stop by your ribs. Closing your eyes you wait for his next instruction.

"I want you to play with those pretty tits you keep hiding in those pictures."

It was automatic the way you let your hand roam from your sides and slowly cup your breasts. Feeling the heaviness of each one as you played around with them. Moaning when your nails dig into your nipples as you grab them. Rolling them around between your fingertips.

You can hear the soft hiss that leaves his mouth as you fondle your chest. Your hands itch to travel lower on your body. To finally touch yourself where you really wanted.

"Tell me what you're doing sweetheart."

"I'm wishing it was you touching me. Wish it was your hands exploring my body." You whine as you let your hand slip off your breasts and travel down your stomach.

"Bet you wish I was there. So you didn't have to play with yourself?"

"Yeah." You sigh as his voice carries through your room. Leading you to snake your hands further down your body, resting just out of reach of where you wanted to go.

"Bet you're fuckin soaked aren't ya?"

"Don't know. Haven't made it there yet."

"Oh but I bet you're awful close to it huh? Can't wait to dip those slutty little fingers into your cunt." He moans into the phones.

"Can I?" You ask whiny. You wanted nothing more than for him to give you permission.

"Yeah let me hear how pretty you sound when you touch that pussy of yours." He grunts.

As you feel the tip of your finger come into contact with your swollen bundle of nerves. You can't help but moan at the sensation. Relief finally floods your wound-up body.

"I'd have you screaming my name by now." He pants. "Legs pushed open as wide as they would go, bury my face right between your thighs. "

You whine as his words send a jolt of pleasure through your body. The sound of him fisting his cock was quick to fill the heated air that surrounded you. Sloppy and wet sounds echo off the walls of your bedroom. Mixing with your own wanton cries of pleasure.

"Yes," you breathe. "Want it. Want it so bad."

"Grab that toy and fuck yourself for me, baby."

Usually, you tried to prep yourself a little bit before you could take the whole thing. But right now you wanted nothing more than to fill yourself being filled. Hitting the power button you use your free hand to guide it to your leaking entrance. Your other hand still making soft circles on your clit.

"Oh fuck." You whine and your back arches as you slip the vibrating silicone inside yourself.

"You sound so pretty, baby. God, you don't know how bad I wanna bury my cock so deep inside that tight little cunt of yours."

You can hear his moans picking up along with yours as you set a fast pace. Already ready to hit that high. He had you teetering on the edge already just from his voice alone.

"Want you so bad." You moan as you hit that sweet spot inside yourself. Your walls flutter around as you kick up the speed on your vibrator.

"You gonna be a good girl and cum for me?" He pants heavily into the receiver. "Gonna let me hear you cry out for me?"

"Wanna cum so bad." You gasp as you force your hand to speed up. Fingers work your clit faster as you feel that coil in the pit of your stomach starts to wind tighter.

"I can hear how fuckin wet you are. Fuck, wanna see it in person."

"Wish you were here" You whine feeling yourself start to tip over the edge.

Your pace picks up as you hear his moans grow louder with each passing second. Both of you working yourself in tandem with the end goal to fall over that edge together.

"Wanna fill you up with my cum, let everyone know just who you belong to sweet girl."

His words started short circuit your brain. Each and every syllable is laced with heated desire and want for you. Meeting your whiny and breathy moans of need. With deep guttural ones of his own as his filthy mouth kept talking.

"Get you clawin' my back and bitin' my neck. Make you cry as your bouncin' on my cock."

The image that flashes through your mind was your undoing.

You could picture it now. Those big strong hands gripping the fattest parts of your hips, and he helps you ride his massive cock. Helping you to move when your legs start to get tired. How he would grab your ass and jackhammer himself into you from below.

While he kept a smirk on his face.

He would be the type that liked to watch every face you made. How your eyes would close and your eyebrows would scrunch together and he forced himself as deep as he could go. He would have you whining and begging for him to let you cum. All while he kept that mean sultry tone in his voice.

You can imagine the way his lips would feel as he latched onto your neck. How he seemed like he would nip and Bite at your skin. Leaving purple marks littered down your throat all the way to your breasts. Eager mouth open and ready to latch onto your nipple and suck greedily as your hands shoot into his hair.

Your body is unable to keep up with the pace you set. Your body thrown into a fast-track orgasm quicker than you have ever been able to before. Back arching off the bed as you cry out in pleasure. Hand still pumping your vibrator in and out of yourself. Feeling the slick material rub against your clenched walls.

"Have half the mind to come fuck you right now." He moans into the receiver, his hand moving faster on his cock. "Show You how good I can be to you."

"Fuck I'm coming!" You cry out, unable to keep either of your hands moving any longer. With A wet plop, your vibrator falls out of you and hits the bed, rolling under your ass. The hand at your clit falls to the side as you breathe through your high.

"Good fuckin girl!"

It was the most seductive thing you have ever heard in your life. His voice cracked from his heavy baritone brashness to an almost high-pitched whine. Breathy and full of pent up emotions as he milks himself for everything he is worth. Letting the sound carry into your mind and take up permanent residence.

Spent you rolling onto your side and closing your eyes. His heavy pants are still filling the air as you try to bring your body back down from such an intense high. The room is quiet as you both take a moment to catch your breath. A smile plastered on your face as you marinate in your euphoria.

You. A t help but giggle as you reach for the vibrator and finally shut it off. Feeling your ass land in the huge wet puddle beneath you, causing you to giggle.

"Find something funny sweetheart?" He asks as your giggle trails off.

"I made a mess." You tell him, and can't help but toss the vibrator to the other side of the bed just as your giggles kick back up.

"Yeah?" He asks. "Lemme see."

Quickly grabbing your phone, you snap a picture of the huge wet spot on your sheets. The angle at the picture was taken to where he couldn't see your most private of areas. But still got the full picture of what had just happened.

"Fuck, your gonna make me hard all over again." He moans. And you can only ramp up your giggles as you imagine his eyes closing and his head falling back onto the pillows. Willing away another painful election from him seeing the mess you managed to make.

But for some reason, you desperately wanted to see it in person. To be able to look into his eyes as he starts to fall apart so easily. That rough demeanor cracking all over little Ole you.

"It's your fault." You lightly accuse him.

"It's your fault for being a tease." He is quick to argue.

"Me? I don't tease!"

"From that first fuckin phone call you've been stuck in my brain. I can't shake you no matter what I do." He admits with a laugh. "That sweet little voice and smart-ass mouth, you know exactly what you were doing to reel me in."

Did he really think that about you? Weird quirkless little you? The one who hasn't had a date in years and has become such a homebody outside of work. Trading in your cute outfits for pajamas and slippers.

No, that just proved he didn't know anything about you.

"You forgot I don't know who you are. You're giving me more credit than I deserve."

"You still playin' dumb huh?" He asks with humor in his voice. "That's fine. Bet I can fuck some sense back into you once I get home."

"Stop!" You whine. "You can't tease me like that!"

"Tell me again how much you don't mean guys." He goads. "You can do it, my little crybaby."

"I've only got eyes for one mean man in my life." you counter him playfully.

"That so?" He muses." Tell me more about him."

You giggle for a moment while you play along with his antics. You can only describe him so much, but you remember how he tried to tease you with the number two pro hero not too long ago. Deciding now would be the perfect time to get back at him. Using angry looking blonde as payback.

"Well for starters." You say with a giggle. "He's tall."

"What else?"

"Spiky blonde hair, and these gorgeous red eyes. Looks like an asshole, but probably is a total softie." You dramatically sigh before you continue. "He's got these big hands and all those muscles! Too bad he let his friend save me the other day, instead of him."

"You like his hero costume?" He asks with a chuckle.

If he was jealous, he wasn't letting it be known. He was playing along with your little antics, and you seem to think he was enjoying it a bit.

"Oh yeah. The black and orange combo gives me Halloween vibes ya know. Not to mention just how tight it is. No wonder he has all the ladies swooning over him."

"Maybe we should get him to send you some of his merch. Bet you would look good In Something of his since you're so obsessed."

"I'm sorry! I can't hear you over the sound of the wedding bells!" You laugh. Playing up the fabricated daydream. And wouldn't you know it, he for the first time gives you an actual laugh. Loud and he let out a snort as he gasped for air. It was actually one of the cutest things you have ever got to hear in your entire life.

"When's the date? I'll have to make sure I show up for it." He snickers.

"Oh you know I still gotta pick out the dress and choose the colors. But my roommate is handling everything else!"

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, she even picked out the house with the white picket fence in the burbs. Already on her way to pick up the new dog." You are barely able to control yourself as you ramble on about your mock wedding. "And she already picked out the names for the kids!"

"Well shit, what do you need from me? Seems like it's already set in stone." He laughs.

"Could you convince him to say yes already?" You sigh. "Seems like he's a little hard to get a hold of these days."

It's funny because even on your most confident day you wouldn't even be able to look Dynamight in the face. Let alone joke with him like this.

That was part of the reason why you were so easily taken to your mystery man. You could be yourself, and he actually was able to do the same. He didn't care you had just made up a wild story about the number two pro hero. Especially right after he pulled such an intense orgasm out of you. If anything he was a good sport and played along. Still more than willing to listen to your half-baked musings, and still didn't feel jealous.

"You at least want a date first? Or are you going in for the kill?" His playful words echo in your ear.

You could get used to this. Use to this guy right here, he was just about everything you wanted out of life. He was able to meet your attitude with one just as fiery. Quick-witted and smart. Dedicated to his job and only a little stubborn.

"I mean I know he is super busy saving the world and all. But I won't turn down a date."

"How bout when I get back I'll take you on one then?"

"How dare you! I'm a taken woman!" You laugh. "do you really wanna take me out?"

"Princess, if I get the chance I'll do more than that."

And the way he said it made you shiver. You had no doubt that he would keep that promise if he got the chance. And who were you to deny such a request? The chance of finally meeting your mystery man has become too hard to ignore.

"Guess I could make room for another mean man in my life, just don't tell my future husband!"

"Good girl. Knew you'd see it my way."

In the midst of your good time, you did hear him start to yawn. You almost forgot that he wasn't home, but out in some hotel room hundreds of miles away from his own bed. He probably spent the past two weeks fighting off every villain he could find, not taking a minute to rest. Not to mention the little stunt he just pulled no doubt took its toll on his already exhausted body.

"Maybe you should get to bed, you sound tired." You say softly.

"M' always tired," He says just as another yawn wracks his body. "Call you when I get back?"

"Get home safe ok. Don't make me worry about you." You say sweetly.

"I'll be extra careful, just so I can see your beautiful face in person."

And you blush deep and hard at his words. It was one thing to flirt and make you cum over the phone. But it was completely different to hear him say something so nice. His tone still carries a bit of that playfulness. He couldn't be that sweet to you and not expect you to melt from his words.

"Goodnight and I mean it be safe!"

"Night crybaby."

It takes you a few minutes before you are able to roll yourself out of bed. And hobble into your bathroom to clean yourself up. But the entire time your head is swimming with the lingering effects of your mystery hero. He had you feeling lighthearted and giggling at the chance to finally be able to meet him in person. Learn what his name was, where he was from and every other little detail you could manage to squeeze out of him.

And as much as you feared for your previously broken heart. You were more excited for the opportunity to let it learn to love once again.

Finding a new set of panties and feeling around for your discarded shirt. You make quick work of changing your sheets and getting redressed. More than happy to fall into your bed, where you felt just a little more appreciated than you had before.

It was easy to drift off into a peaceful slumber when the thought of new love had you feeling giddy. Excited for the first time in forever.

Now it was only a waiting game until you would be able to meet him.

Taglist:

@levyasakura @fixed211 @antiwhores @yikes077 @trash-heichou-kacchan @dynakats @fallingmoon02 @ghastly-san @seabass17 @princessru1 @dabi-is-life @rinthewriter @jajahahbsba @aki-pringle @bkgsbabycake @theredtater06 @theycallme-becky @bitchyzombienacho @my-horniness-is-a-flaw @privthemis @mehnotenoughtime @kodzum1 @call-memissbrightside @madam-ri @levi-poe1 @the2ndl @mary-jinx @mary-jinx @hypernovaxx @purplepotato13 @chaichaiiskai @sumztrix @nonomesupposedto @garnet-redtailedhero @tatertotsarebomb @ahahadumbo @twisteddaydreams1135 @lilapark1030 @deadpoolsvodka @bokutosnumberonefan

Omg imagine soft!yandere Eddie first meets the reader when he saves her from muggers in his Riddler get-up. The reader passes out bc the muggers drugged her so she wakes up in Eddie's apartment curled up on his lap and he's gently running his fingers through her hair while humming.

A/N: Hell yea, he’s so protective, I feel like a relationship with soft yandere Eddie would be love at first sight 😍

Pairing: Dano!Riddler x reader (The Batman 2022)

Warnings: Soft!Yandere Riddler, mentions of violence and drugs, obsessive loving 💚

Words: 1199

If you hadn't gone out so late in the first place, you would never have been nearly killed... and would never have ended up at the Riddler's apartment.

Thugs infest the streets of Gotham, particularly at night, spray painting and attacking and stealing, before that bat signal is up in the air. It wasn't lighting up a circle of the darkening sky when you were grabbed and yanked into an alley, a few minutes away from being some muggers' new toy. Your yelp of pain and shock had been muffled behind a gloved hand as one of the thugs pierced your skin with a syringe of some sort, and your vision began swimming as you struggled to keep the evening in focus, the cackles of the group dying in and out.

The cackles came to an abrupt stop when they were hit.

You didn't see much, but you didn't really need to. You heard the cracks, saw the crimson drips, heard the heavy, shuddering breaths replace the previous mocking laughter. You had to stay awake, you had to... but the world was fading to black around you, and your legs threatened to give way as you leaned against a wall for support.

The figure amongst the bodies was suddenly at your side, their arms slipping under your back and hooking underneath your legs, picking you up and holding you close to their chest. You tried to struggle, unaware of who it was - probably another thug rivalling against the now dead ones.

"Ssh, ssh, ssh," the man hushed from under some sort of mask, and with a sigh, you let yourself finally go limp in his careful hold. "That's it..."

You wake up groggily, a dull ache in the back of your head. You blink as your eyes adjust to the mild light of the early morning, partially closed off by blinds hanging over the window.

You frown in confusion as you took in your surroundings. You're in someone's apartment - it sure as hell isn't yours - that looks pretty cluttered, with hundreds of books stuffed in bookcases and a long length of dark green material pinned up on the wall, a large white question mark painted over it.

Well, wherever you are, you need to get out before-

As if on cue, a masked individual appears at the door, and your breath catches in your throat as you quickly push yourself upright in awareness. Your head throbs in protest, and the man's eyes widen from behind his clear-framed glasses, hurrying into the room and taking ahold of your shoulders gently.

"No, no, don't do that," he tells you softly, easing you down until you're lying back on the bed, "take it slowly, angel, okay?"

You let out a long breath, trying and failing to understand what's going on.

"You shouldn't have lasting damage," he continues, sitting beside you and stroking your hair away from your face. "That scum didn't know what they were injecting. It was a weak sedative, no lasting effects. You're going to be just fine, sweet girl."

You nod slowly, recognising the mask and the symbol now you've properly come to.

"You're the Riddler."

"You know who I am?" He's almost giggling with excitement, his smile reaching his eyes behind his mask. "That's wonderful! Then you know that all I want to do is protect you... and love you..."

Your eyes go round at the last comment. "But... you don't know who I am."

"I know some things," he admits, "I can find out a lot of things, but I'd much rather it be you telling me. And it can be! We have all the time in the world."

You can barely process what's happening here. How it's gone from the Riddler happening to come across you and those thugs, then him potentially saving your life, to waking up in his apartment to straight out love confessions. He looks so hopeful too, you can tell.

Well. He did save your life. And, being totally honest, you aren't against the Riddler at all. You hate people like the ones you were grabbed by, and life would be a whole lot better without them.

So who are you to say no just yet?

"Um... okay," you breathe, still in a slight daze, and the Riddler smiles at you fondly, his ungloved hands brushing against your forehead.

"Does your head hurt as one of the minor side effects?" He questions you worriedly. "I'll get you some painkillers and water, if you like."

You muster up a small smile and nod, and then the Riddler's up, leaving the room for a minute to get them. You sit up, slower this time, and take a good look around the room, brows twitching in interest as your gaze glides over books of 'Renewal' and scrap papers scribbled all over with squiggles and cyphers.

The Riddler comes back and hands you the tablet and water, and you take them thankfully as his hands linger around his mask.

"I think I might take this off," He says hesitantly, "though I really shouldn't. But you won't know who I am anyway. And I trust you not to say anything."

You nod, deciding to trust him too, killer or not, in the circumstances. "No, I... I won't."

That settles it for him, and the Riddler removes his glasses before tugging off the mask and clingwrap covering his hair. Then the glasses are back on, and you stare in surprise and curiosity at the brown-haired and green-eyed man beside you, his expression a little anxious now he's exposed.

But you smile at him encouragingly, putting the water down on the table next to the bed. "Hi."

A dopey, lovestruck smile makes its way to his lips. "Hi. I'm Edward."

You respond with your name, and he repeats it thoughtfully, his smile widening at the sound of it. "Are you feeling okay now, angel?"

"Yeah, I think so."

Edward doesn't seem that convinced, and sits on the bed next to you, his arms encircling your waist as he pulls you up and onto his lap. Your cheeks heat up at the action, and Edward giggles under his breath, holding you tightly to his chest as if you've been together for months. His hair tickles your neck as he buries his face in your neck, rocking you soothingly in his embrace. You let yourself relax into it, and smile softly at the odd, fast-paced intimacy, almost laughing as you think about how unusual this all is.

Edward hums a tune contently as one hand strokes your side and the other plays with your hair. It sounds like Ave Maria, an old church song, and you listen quietly, your head resting against his chest and the deep green, thick cotton fabric of his hoodie.

You can feel yourself grow tired again, and settle in his comforting hold as your breathing evens out slowly. Edward seems to notice, and he smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead as the hand in your hair strokes your cheek.

"Good girl... just sleep," he coos, the hand at your side pressing you further into him. "I'll be here. I love you..."

And so you do.

Taglist:

@greenxtea0 @moonwritesblog @lilyevans1 @httpsunflowers @hxney-lemcn @confusedchildsstuff @phantomofthecathedral @sugahbabieexo @bokksieu @skateb0red @wilburrrsworld @philiasoul @darthcringe @felicityofbakerstreet @bloodypantomime @deadlights-darling @tianotfound @mortem-muse @ireadandream @tinyryder @kpopgirlbtssvt @truecobblepot @jessicainhell

Source? I decided it was true

I love them they're so wholesome what the hell. I'm in love

don’t you dare fall in love | 3

pairing. dealer college student! ellie williams x f! reader

PART ONE. PART TWO. MASTERLIST. synopsis. ellie tries her hardest not to mix business with pleasure. or, ellie gets a new customer and unfortunately falls in love with her.

warnings. 18+. blank & ageless blogs will be blocked. clichè comments on sorority girls (sorry), sexually explicit descriptions of female receiving cunnilingus, fondling, fingering, and dry humping. not beta’d.

an. well here ya go! thank u to all those who were so patient and lovely with me<3 to those who weren’t and were mean to me…i’m giving you the nastiest dirty look rn. pls comment and reblog!!!! love u. 

Afficher davantage

loml

Pretty gifts

Joker X GN!Reader

TW/CW: reader is androgynous, murders, talking about kys, work in catering (it needs its own warning), reader curses a lot, mention of vomit, stalker, reader throws up, racism, Gotham is hell and fuck capitalism, blood, violence

tbh i'm a little sad bc nobody ever give their opinion on my works. I put another divider (like the red heart below) in the middle of the story, not really to separate as it's following directly but bc some people find my stories too long so it's like a checkpoint. So when you leave, you know where you were. (It's really long)

also the end is a little weird bc I have no idea if this fandom is still alive so, yeah :) if people are reading, I might continue it. Thing is some ppl find this Joker ugly so...

I hope you'll enjoy this. (19/02/2024) (17k)

You weren't weird by any mean, okay ? Life in Gotham is just really hard. You got harassed, robbed and assaulted more times than you can count. And each time by a new profile type ! Old, young or teen, it doesn't matter, everyone is desperate.

Some of your colleagues at work are prostituting themselves and you for sure considerate selling feet pictures.

That's how life is in Gotham.

But weird ? You stare at the angry man before you, unimpressed. You can't believe he called you weird as well as an incestuous result. You're neither of these. Fuck, how is weird and incestuous his first thought when insulting someone ? Like, he could've called you a fucker, a bitch... Anything !

Your aggressor, if you can even call him that after this, shows you his middle finger while walking background. Quickly though, he loses his balance and fall on the ground. Well, at least he didn't beat you up !

You already got assaulted for your money, which you don't even have, you got two jobs and barely reach the minimal wage. But at the end of the day they, well, stole the few you have, you know ? When you think about it, he strongly smelled like alcohol. That's probably why he failed his attempt.

Even stealing is death here. You never know who you're facing. Hell, just yesterday a guy was killed because he tried to assault some big chief of a mob. Someone with a clown face. TV says the man's limbs were still not all found.

Shit, getting killed by a clown must be mad humiliating too.

You sigh, trying to ease your tired traits by passing your hand on your face. At least the day is over, right ? Another day closer to death. You drag your suddenly much more heavier body on some few meters/yards more, silently praying that no one else will bother you.

Thankfully, your cries were heard. Pushing the old creaking door of the building, you rush to the mailbox. Never have you been comfortable staying long here. The door is only behind you and you don't know if someone is able to enter with bad intention.

Speaking of the devil...

No mail except for this weird card yet again. It's cardboard displaying a drawing of a joker, withdrawn from a poker package. It's certainly not the first time someone pull this kind of joke on you. Though, you have no idea who this is and it creeps you out a little. You turn the card to see if a message was left and sadly, (or not) you were right.

You've been trying to understand who this was for a long time now but in a big city like yours, with god knows who or what ? It's just impossible.

As always, you hate to think this because you don't want this creepy card to become part of your habit, a messy handwriting greets you in black ink.

"I'm everywhere in this city, no one can touch me yet some are fond of me."

You stopped school kind of early so your IQ is probably not high enough for you to understand that. Plus, you don't fucking want to.

You grab the card with you in order to throw it once at home and rush to the stairs (some says someone got killed in the elevator plus it's not working since months so you're not taking it anymore). Finally home. Your hallway still smells like piss and a deadly cold reign here (Nobody knows why). Two of the four bulb of the ceiling has burnt out and a faint static noise is resonating in the whole property.

This building is not even in a neighborhood that bad. But in Gotham, not that bad is still bad. Because bad is sleeping to the sound of gunshot and broken windows. While here, there's still these but not as often as in bad neighborhood. But you can add the moans hearable in the night in it as well.

Your building is really old though, which explains (partially) the bad state it's in.

Taking out the key off your pocket, you start to unlock the door. Unconsciously, your mind goes back to the card of the day. "I'm everywhere"... What's everywhere? There's air. But they specified 'in this city' so air might be too simple.

No one can touch me yet some are fond of me.

You can't touch air and you're not sure people are fond of it particularly. Like, air's fine. It's cool as fuck but are you fond of it ? No. Then what is it ?

You didn't even realize you were looking at the card again, your door wide open while standing in the middle of the hallway ridiculously. Slapping yourself mentally for being so careless, you enter and close the door and all your locks shut.

Some are fond of me, huh ?

In Gotham, what are people even fond of ? Misfortune you'd say. These fuckers love to see others suffer and even make sure they do by engaging in others people life.

But you don't know if that's really the answer. Damn, can't they just give you simple question? Or even better: stop giving you any ?

You drop your bag on the floor, slouching your shoulders and throwing yourself on the couch. Fuck, you hate your life. Why are you even here? You don't deserve this life. Nobody does !

Haphazardly moving your hand, you end up successfully grabbing the remote. You need to empty your mind, or have a background noise at least.

The screen lights up displaying you the newest information girl. The last man disappeared after he made the mistake of letting show his politic side. It's obvious everyone is corrupted here but the mystery in this story is ; who erased him ? It could be mob, politics themselves, everyone.

This city is lost.

The woman is talking about the incessant inflation and how numerous factories and business saw themselves forced to close for good. You just hope your business won't shut down, you need money. What if it does close, though ? You were already sweating trying to live with two jobs, but what if you end up jobless ?

It'll be impossible for you to pay anything. To keep your apartment. To eat. What are you supposed to do if this happens ? You already thought about that and all of your long reflection session always end up on one conclusion: kill yourself.

Because there's no way you're living without job in Gotham while being in the streets. You would have left the city if you had money or even family out there but it's not the case. So yeah, killing yourself that is.

Sure it looks a little extreme but isn't earth overpopulated anyway ?

It's better than being killed. At least, you choose your death ! But you're gonna hope this still won't happen. Up to now, your job is yours so taking such drastic measures won't be necessary. And you hope it'll stay this way.

Damn, you're depressed again. You drown out your worries by hiding your face in your couch's pillow. Man, what capitalism is doing to one.

You switch the channel without looking where your fingers pressed, this time a man is talking. He's saying something about a criminal and quoting every one of his crime. It was going crescendo, at first robbery, assault and burglary but just next to all of that was terrorism and mass murder.

You want to turn your head and watch the profile of this man but are too weak to move. So you simply listen closely to the man voice to get answers.

"Yes, he's a dangerous criminal and he's in town. He already break free from Arkham asylum twice now. If one of you see this man; do not engage, hide and call the police immediately. He is incredibly unstable and may not be alone. If you think you can win against him, you're wrong. He's a manipulative man and a mastermind. If you're seen by him, you better start to pray. Ends the man on a serious tone. Man, this guy knows how to reassure people...

-Indeed, a true monster. But please do not scare our audience. Batman was able to capture him twice, we'll be fine. The man chuckles but does not sound really honest. To answer all the questions you've been a lot to send us, we'll have the pleasure of meeting mister Harvey Dent here, chief of the police department to answer your worries. Harvey Dent ?"

And the voice switched to the other man. You like Harvey Dent. You like to think he's the only man in Gotham who's not corrupted. He's helping the citizens. Unlike that Wayne man. This guy could single-handedly resolve the poverty problem, but does he do it ? Of course not. He's rich after all, why should he care for bum like you ?

Harvey Dent is talking but you're not listening. All you know is that he's trying to ease the population. The men on TV are always saying the same things: empty promises. How the police is already taking care of the problem, that it'll be better soon. Like the police isn't already too fucking busy harassing the wrong people.

Harvey Dent is your last hope. The only man who can change things.

You deeply hope his promises aren't as empty as the other man before him. You turn off the TV and relax in the silence of your flat for a moment, breathing in the perfume impregnated in your couch.

There's screams outside. You can't tell if it's the neighbors or someone outside. Either way, you stand up feeling your eyelids getting heavier by each passing second.

But before leaving to your room, you stop in front of your window and stare outside for a moment. It's nighttime now. The city won't go to sleep, oh no, it's just waking up. The police can already be heard in the distance with its loud sirens. This city really is chaotic. It's just everywhere, you can't escape it. Touching it isn't even possible, you can't grasp it, nor resolve it completely; it's in the air. You can't fight against it. Nobody fights against it.

Fuck, it's like they're fond of it, here.

Chaos, it's scary when you think about it. Because you can't guess what's going to happen. There was a time when you thought that anarchists could be right but if anarchy looks like this, you don't want it anymore. You just want some peace and respect. But it seems too much to ask for Gotham.

You fucking hate chaos.

The next morning, your limbs were so sore you almost didn't make it on time to work. Your boss reprimanded you about your delay, pressuring you by recalling you the time one of your colleagues got fired for it. You were only late of something like one or two minutes but it didn't matter to him.

He only wanted to feel superior. He didn't even need real reasons to yell at you.

The restaurant wasn't packed. Only the usual rich families wanting to spend a pleasant day. They were here to eat breakfast. You try not to think too much about the fact that one single of their jewelry is equal to your salary.

The streets were alive; people running, cars honking. Your colleague hitting your shoulder to bring you back to earth, everything is normal.

"You think you can ask Mike to make another one ? she asks you with a sweet voice. The kid threw a tantrum. It's not salted enough and he hates sausages.

You lift up your eyes towards the crying kid in the back. Cold eyes stuck to his face. You're sure he specifically asked for sausage. You're the one who wrote down his order. And the salt ? Can't he just fucking put some himself?

-Don't question it. They're regulars. Plus, I don't think having beef with a kid is good for our reputation." Tells you your friend after seeing the death look you were giving him.

So you take the plate that looked absolutely perfect and delectable to bring it to Mike. Mike is an old man once passionate about cooking. Now he's forty three and stuck cooking eggs and toast to some crying kids.

"No fucking sausage and more salt please. you say, throwing the plate on the counter in a loud clatter. The man laughs at your anger and don't even need to ask to understand. 'Got it boss !' is your answer.

You lay your weight on the counter, back meeting the freezing temperature of it. Different smells invade your senses; fresh bread, warm oil and eggs. Well, lot of different smells were here as well but they're the one that really stuck out to you.

"You were late this morning right ? Did the client touched their plate ? You can eat it otherwise, it looks fine.

-Because it is, it was made by the best cook of Gotham after all.

The man laughs, mimicking someone blushing by putting his hands on his cheeks. He tells you that you're lying and that you're saying that to flatter him only. Mike had buzzed his hair a few months ago but they were back already; small rough curls mocking him.

You sigh and look back at the plate, it did look really fine. The kid hadn't even touched it ! The eggs and the bread were intact, left in the same state it was neatly put in earlier.

You spend your sweet time talking with Mike before your boss comes in infuriated, ordering you to come back at the front. And you're forced to do so. Grabbing a water jug on your way and putting on a fake smile, you walk towards a new family sitting so straight your back hurts just looking at them.

All of them laid down their menu and are waiting. You arrive, apologizing for the wait. 'Have you decided ?' you ask while putting the water on the table. The man takes the menu and start listing his orders without a smile nor even a look in your direction. The woman is busy keeping her children calm and asking them to calm down. The other tables are side-eyeing her while the husband doesn't even acknowledge his wife.

"Noted, you smile and turn your head to stare at the woman for her to start ordering.

She smiles awkwardly, and tells you her kids orders before ordering for herself. You thank them, "I'll be right back." and you leave to the kitchen. You sigh, scotch the orders on the wall, grabs the plate left for you to take and head back to the crying kid from earlier. The demon who ordered fucking sausage before saying he hated them.

But as soon as you place the plate before him with a smile, the kid slams his fists on the table resulting in his glass of water to splash on you and break on the floor. The mother gasps while the dad gives a slap in his son's head without even you registering the whole situation. Your clothes are completely soaked, you want to say something but his mother is sending daggers at you with her eyes and you know not to mess with this stupid fucking family.

Did he did it on purpose ? Yes. Are you gonna say something ? No.

"It's okay, I love children." you don't.

And you leave. Deeply humiliated. But you can't do anything. Because you're no one compared to them, they're gonna win. Always. Your friend asks if you're okay, you shrug. She's unable to question you further as she has to continue working. You head to the back in search of a broom.

The small closet is all the way behind the kitchen and you're already tired just thinking about it. Once you're in, you frenetically search for your item only for a shelf to fall apart behind you and destroy itself on the ground. You bite your lower lip with all your strength to retain you from crying and cursing the whole world.

It's okay, it's just a shelf. It's okay, you try to think but it's hard when it's not even noon and too much shit already happened to you.

You crouch down and start gathering everything you can when your eyes falls upon another one of these poker card. You frown and take it in your hands, examining it deeply. Uh, wow, okay. It's a little weird. You just happen to receive these daily in your mailbox and suddenly there's one here. Okay, totally normal.

You stand up, looking around you for an answer, trying to see if a camera is here somewhere. But nothing. So you turn the card to read the new message: You need one to live, I often rip it apart and yours is mine to steal. A heart ? you immediately think. You definitely need one to live and the sentence 'steal your heart' is kinda famous. But rip it apart ? Is it, like, a metaphor ? Glancing back quickly, you notice a small note left in the bottom right corner of the card. It reads: what a shitty shelf.

You laugh nervously, your breath getting stuck in your throat. What the actual fuck ? it's not even funny, what the hell ? Sorry for the fucking shelf ? They knew this was going to happen ? You definitely have to talk to someone.

You pass your hand on your face, rubbing it strongly as if to wake you up from a bad dream. Then you take the broom and head back.

Rushing to the kitchen, you accidentally pushes someone in your haste. You see Mike from afar and don't even need to approach him that you yell your question for everyone to hear:

"Mike, do you happen to play poker ?" the man faces you, his confused expression told it all, he didn't. And from the other's cook faces, they probably all thought that you were crazy. None of them looking guilty. But you'll investigate that later.

Not wasting any seconds, you almost run to the main room to find your friend. Luckily for you, she's cleaning glasses at the bar.

"Hey, is it yours ?" you're a little out of breath when showing her the joker card. Your friend simply shakes her head. When you asked her if she knew if one of your colleagues was playing poker, she shrugged and told you she didn't know with an apologetic smile.

"Why ? she asks.

-It's complicated." you say.

It can't be from the same person, right ? If it is anyway, that probably means one of your colleagues is the one putting these at your place. Which is a terrifying idea because you sure never gave your address to anyone here. Trying to see the bright side of it all, that means that you may know your 'joker'. And if that's the case, there's a way for you to stop them. It's better than the cards coming from a total stranger, because you can't act against them. You'll probably leave some clues at work to see and trap your joker.

The rest of the day was terribly hard. You were dying from the inside. Your tummy was growling like a beast; you did not have the time to eat. As you're juggling between two jobs, your boss thought that he had to exploit you as much as he could before you left. Because you're joining the bar, your second working place, at two pm.

"You're gonna leave in the middle of the day, when most people are coming. I'm losing money here, you see ?" he had said to you that day. Yeah, he does not give you any breaks because to him, you don't need one as you leave earlier. Of course you tried to negotiate and he was agreeing with you, on the condition that he pays you less.

"Mike, I'm leaving. you tell him, taking off your apron. Have a nice day, say hi to your kids for me." he smiles warmly to you, wave and you're out of the room in a quarter of seconds. You already bid goodbye to your friend so all you had to do now was to leave.

Putting on your jacket, your thoughts can't stop but think back about this other card you found. Yours is mine to steal. In what sense ? You could've thought it was some creepy flirting but it's just too much. You found these at home, at work. Everywhere. Are they going to rip your heart apart, too ? Are these threats ?

Hopping in the bus, you try to stay away from Gotham's crackhead as much as possible but it's hard when they're drunk and staring at you like they want to beat the shit out of you.

Fortunately, your stop arrives and you hurry to get out. It's 2:36 PM (14:36), the bar is not open yet but cleaning and organizing everything is part of your contract.

It's at five pm (17h) that you open the bar, standing behind your counter and waiting patiently for clients to arrive. You're happy Sean is here. He's a big man of 2m3 (~6'8), practices combat sport and knows how to handle different weapons. In a neighborhood like this, you're more than grateful to have him.

He's also the son of the owner. So it's really just the two of you here. The first persons starts entering the place and it quickly fills up entirely. It's quite a famous area, cops never comes here as mobs are doing their own laws. Sean puts on some background music you can't even hear anymore over the loud voices of the men laughing cavernously.

You're busy serving people's drinks. Moving as fast as you could but it being hard when your thoughts are plagued by cards and your mind is not here. Who's this joker man ?

The street lamp are all finally on, meaning it was past seven already. You didn't even see time pass, the incessant flirting and bickering of the men here enough to keep you from being alone with your thoughts.

"Thanks baby." says a young man when you give him his beer. He has a really bad scar going from his forehead to his lower lip. It's no surprise, you saw men with less limbs, other talking unknowns languages, some with sight or hearing completely lost. Sometimes normal people like you would come, women even but more rarely as the men here were true animals.

You wonder what type of people there is with you tonight. You're not naive enough to think all of them are innocent, in fact, you're sure 85% of your client here are criminals. This bar is situated apart from the city, in a corner more secluded with abandoned looking buildings and scary dark alleys you certainly don't want to visit at night, or even at day for that matter.

This place sucks.

Honestly, with your cards problem, you even considered engaging a spy to see who put these creepy notes in your mailbox. But two things prevented you to do so; first, you do not want to do business with criminals, second; there was a chance that your joker was one of your client.

Some of your clients here probably have mental illness as well, worsening their state. And maybe someone fixated on you and decided to follow you home. It'd be really awkward to engage a man to scare your joker away, only for him to be the same person you're trying to avoid.

But now this idea starts to disappear. You found a card at work after all, your boss is not stupid enough to let anyone break in. So the criminal track wasn't the one. It's one of your colleagues. There's just no way one of the bar's client could have followed you home and at the restaurant.

But on the other hand, it's difficult to see one of your colleagues following you home too. Because after working at the restaurant, you're not heading home right away. You're working here. Is it possible they waited outside until you finished ?

"A whisky for me." is what tears you away from your misery.

You do not look up, instead turning your back to him and reaching the shelves to search for the bottle. You grab a glass, throwing ice cubes in it and pouring the harsh liquid in. You then slide it to him, he nods and drink a first long gulp.

You follow his arm to his face before blocking on it. It's a man with a skin so pale it's getting worrying. His eye bag are terribly dark that you thought he had put black eye-shadow on them. And for a second, you truly thought it was the case. He had really bad scars going from each corner of his lips up to his cheeks, like a badly drawn smile. In the small crevices of his scarred skin, there was faint white and red paint, or make-up that did not left during shower. Is he like, a mime or a clown ? He looks like he haven't showered for a while, no judgements or anything, but his green hair are greasy.

He continues to savor his drink quietly while you're here, astonished by such weird scars. You saw scars, a lot of them. But they all looked accidental, caused by self defense or anything. But his clearly looked volunteer. You could clearly see that the goal was to create some sick form of smile, whether it is successful or not. What the hell happened to this guy ? Has he been tortured ? Did he make these to himself ?

'You got some nasty scars' you want to say. But the wicked grin he gives you is enough to make you gulp and smile awkwardly. Of course he saw you looking at him, you did not move an inch/millimeters. And he does not look like the type of guy to be nice.

"D'you like them ?

-Sorry ? you blinked.

-My scars. Do you like them ?

-Uh, yeah, yeah.

Fucking creepy. What the hell ? What did he do to have those ? Why is he even asking you this ? Why is he looking at you like that ?

-Do you want to know how I got them ?

-No." you answer at the mere second he ended his question, by pure fear he was going to destroy you. Or try to recreate those scars on you. Hey, you never know.

The man grins and chuckles at the quickness of your answer and stops talking for a while. Did you just escape death ? You think so.

He stopped drinking, though. You try to look busy but you're just organizing and disorganizing things on loop. Sean is having the time of his life chatting with the clients towards the tables area. But you, you're stuck behind the counter. You can't even count the times you got your ass slapped or got whistled. Plus, some of these guys often try to threaten you with knifes to make you give them free drinks.

It could've work if Sean wasn't here.

But it's comical in a sense. The morning, you're busy being the little dog, the little slave of these stuck rich people crying when their plate arrives one minute late, with prices on the menu so high it's clearly a scam for some eggs and bacon. With a ground so perfectly clean you could lick it.

And at night, you're here. Surrounded by criminals, drunkards and God knows who. With bad music taste rumbling in the background and place so dirty you could throw up and not even see it through the trash lingering on the ground. Well, in your defense, because you're the one cleaning, it was clean before. But everyone arrives with their disgusting shoes or bleeding and then they spill their drinks, and they fight and, yeah. At the end of the day, this place is a mess.

Your back is still facing the mime guy but you know he's staring at you. You know it because you can't stop shuddering. Your works are sure keeping you in touch with reality at least, you've seen both extreme.

"What's your name ?" You face him, afraid to offend this weirdo.

Telling him your name out of all the people ? Never. Smiling the best you can, you tell him your coworker name from the restaurant. He grins like a Cheshire cat, his smile accentuated by his prominent scars, nodding. You know better than to ask him back his name, he's probably, surely, a criminal. You don't have a death wish at the moment. You usually don't like to lie but this job at the bar taught you better.

-You know, he starts again and you pray he does not start to harass you with questions, he licks his lower lip before continuing. There's one thing I truly hate in this world. He pauses. You wanna know what ?

-Tell me. You say reluctantly, not wanting to anger him.

He lays one of his elbows on the counter, raising a brow and looking around him as if going to tell you a secret he wants no one else but you to know. Then, he looks at you again, a mysterious glint in his eyes.

-Liars.

Oh.

-They're such... he squints his eyes, moving his hand in the air to the flow of his thoughts. Vicious, little bitch, you know ? If we want to change things, he licks his lips, they're the first people that have to go. Don't you think ?

-Yes, I'm with you on that. you hurry to answer, nodding frenetically, feeling your blood run cold and a sweat cross your spine. Myself I really can't stand liars, you know ? Liars are really bad, they're manipulative and all. you were just trying to save your ass at this point. You received a lot of threats in your life, but this man right here ? There was something deeply wrong with him. He was fucking traumatizing you. You did not want to mess with him.

The only thing plaguing your thoughts is; does he know ? Does he know you lied about your name ? Because he specifically asked this question right after you introduced yourself. Does he know ? No, no he doesn't. How is he supposed to know you ? You don't even have any name tag on.

The man chuckles deeply before you, licking very briefly his lips again; is that a tic ?

-What's his name ? he asks, looking straight to Sean, as if judging his soul. Does he have to stare at people like he wants to kill them all the time ?

Now you understand. He scared the shit out of you to ensure you wouldn't be lying to him. And now he's testing you. Why, you don't know. But you answer honestly this time. He smiles mischievously. Maybe that wasn't even his plan, maybe he's just deeply weird and unsettling. Maybe he doesn't even know you ever lied to him. Maybe you see things where there's none.

If there's one thing Gotham has taught you, it's to be wary of everyone.

-Are you fucking him ? he asks again, still looking at Sean laughing with the others.

-Why ? this thought never even crossed your mind before. Why would you fuck Sean ? He's nice, he's good looking but, you don't know, you wouldn't fuck him. You just, don't want to ? He's a friend.

-He's quite the tall guy. Are you fucking him ? he insists, ignoring completely your question.

Wow, that is getting incredibly uncomfortable and personal. You know you're supposed to entertain them and all but damn, this guy is killing you. You throw a glance in Sean's direction, hoping to catch his attention so he could help you but he's busy laughing with other clients.

-Why're looking at him ? I'm the one talking.

-I don't think this is appropriate, Sir. It's quite the personal questions you're asking me here. you laugh nervously, hoping to relax the mood but the man before you doesn't even react. Can I maybe offer you another drink ? It'll help...

-You got something to hide ? he licks his lips.

What. The. Fuck.

-I have to stay mysterious in order for you to come back, right ? you do not want this weirdo to come back, but that's the default sentence you usually say to avoid answering intimate questions.

But the make-up man does not insist, he gives you a cheeky grin.

-You want me to come back ? How flattering.

Most of the time, what you implies when saying this is that you want them to come back to consume more, so you have more money because you're kinda the bartender of this place. But this guy just plainly wants to fuck you up. Where's Sean when you need him the most ?

It's like no one around you is seeing you. They're all drinking their sadness, trauma, day away, not caring that a creepy guy is keeping you in his weird conversation you clearly do not want to participate in.

-Do you want to play a game with me ?

-I'm... Quite busy, actually. So...

But he knows you, now. He knows you're a bad little liar. Listening to you is now optional to him; he clearly doesn't care. The man stands up and you start to get scared. What is he going to do ? Is he going to hurt you ? Your hand is holding firmly the bat under the counter, fingers shaking with adrenaline. You never used a weapon before, less against someone. You never hurt someone, intentionally at least.

Sean, move your ass over here, now.

The man grins, eyes trailing your arms. He knows you're hiding something under this counter, but can he blame you ? You're surrounded by criminals, he's one himself ! It's impossible to know what to expect. Honestly, you're ready to scream to get attention and get helped. Even if there's high possibilities for a general fighting to start resulting in this poor bar to be destroyed.

But the man does not try to hurt you, he smiles, put his hands in his pocket and you now realize how well he's dressed for someone like him. A nice and well maintained purple suit.

"It makes me live and follow you at dark, keeps me up at night and makes you fall apart."

No...

-Who am I ?" He ends slowly, torturing you.

Your shoulders slouched down, tension leaving your hand on the bat. Your body become a big, useless puddle. Eyes as big as owl ones.

"I-I don't want to play. Your stutter had gave away your uneasy feeling, you step back, eyeing this man from head to toe.

You've come to despise those damn riddles. You don't want to hear more of them.

-But this one's so simple sweetheart. He mocks you. It starts with a pretty little O and ends with a N. I'm sure you'll find out.

You shake your head slowly; no, it's not simple, no, you don't want to find out, no, you don't fucking want to listen to him. But he simply chuckles, relatively amused by such a big reaction. Well, with that kind of huge revelation, you can't quite control yourself.

He's rummaging through his pocket, heart almost leaving you. What is he searching for ? A weapon ? What is he thinking ? But against all odds, the joker man takes out something so small you can't even see it behind his palm. You know he's doing it on purpose, hiding it from you to destroy you more, to see the look of surprise, fear or shock, or... Whatever, on your face.

-That's my business card, as a little... Reminder." You deeply doubt someone like him own any business, less business card. So what is he going to give you ?

He lays gently his hand on the counter right before you, not letting you see what he was hiding until he removed completely his hand, confirming your theory of him hiding it on purpose. You'd recognize them anytime. Your heart is beating faster, so fast you're scared it might explode. Nothing is written on the side you're staring at, you grab the cardboard, praying that it's just a crazy coincidence even if the drawing of the joker smiling stupidly on the card is taunting you.

But when you turn the card, the answer is given to you. For the first time since you've started to receive these.

-Obsession." you sigh, breath getting stuck in your throat. You were petrified. "You're... You're the joker man." you say in a shaky voice. Was it finally him ? Answers, you needed answers. But when you looked up, the man had disappeared. Leaving you with nothing but deep fear.

Silent tears slide on your cheeks, you bring your hand to your mouth in order to hide your muffles. Looking back at the card, you feel your legs give up under you when your real name is written in bold black letters in a bottom corner. Bile is rushing to your throat.

It's him. He's the one sending you these.

But you don't know him. You don't fucking know this man. And he's a criminal. You're fucked. Smiling like a madman, you start to laugh nervously, not realizing the situation. It's a joke, right ? You cough, progressively choking on your saliva. You bite your lower lip so hard it starts bleeding. You pray, you pray so hard this man isn't your stalker but you're lying to yourself. It's literally the worst case scenario that could happen.

You've never seen this man in your entire fucking life. Where does he even come from ? Why you ? Why him ? With his fucking creepy scars and fucking riddles. He knows your address ! Your name ! What else does he know ?

"You okay there ?" You nod without even looking at the person talking to you. You choke out a quick answer before rushing to the back towards the private toilet.

Immediately collapsing to the ground, you throw up everything you had in you, which wasn't a lot to begin with. You barely even ate anything. But you can't stop. You empty yourself, only vomiting water.

Sean finally comes get you, he rubs your back and help you get up. "What happened ?" He asks you.

"I don't fucking know." Is the only thing you can muster.

What you do know however, is that you're scared to go home.

"Are you heading home tonight ?" You ask him, voice hoarse. "Well, yeah" is his answer. So you asked him, begged him to come with you. Because you were horrified by the mere idea of going home alone. Maybe he would be here.

"You can come to mine if ya want." he offers. And you think that the guy from yesterday probably was right, you were weird. Why aren't you going to the cops, after all ? Probably because they'll think you're lying, that you're insane. A joker ? Harassing you with riddles ? You'll end up in a asylum in no time.

But wouldn't you be safer in a asylum ?

When Sean and you closed the bar, it was already well past one am. You didn't had the strength to redo this all over again tomorrow. But Sean was of good company, cheering you up and trying to ease your mind. Multiples times he tried to ask what was wrong, but he guessed it alone. "Was it that weird customer in purple ? The one with the suit ? I saw him lingering a really long time at the counter." You shrugged when he said that, completely worn out. What could he even do against him anyway ? The Joker man wasn't known to any of you. It was a lost cause.

Chatting with your friends wasn't even crossing your mind, you were terrified. The long walk to his apartment was as quiet as a church. What the fuck were you going to do now ? You were dead, yes, you were just dead at this point. What can you even do against some psycho following you around ? Fight back ? Yeah, if you have a death wish. You have to get out of this city, there's no other plan. But how ? And to go where ?

"We're here." says Sean. You've never been to his apartment's before, and to be honest, you would have preferred for it to happen in other circumstances. Trying to escape a criminal wasn't in this year plan.

Before you stood a tumbledown grey building, not much different from yours in reality. After all, Sean's not that rich, he's payed like you and live with his dad's payment. Though, you're pleasantly surprised to see the coziness of his place.

Warm lights were turned on, his sofa looked quite mellow and the general smell of the apartment was lovely. Not that you're judging him, but you wouldn't have thought he was such a clean guy. Because he's like, well, some kind of mafia man. So, yeah, he often smells like sweat and dirt himself, it's a surprise his place is so neat. Sure, it's damaged by humidity then and there, there's cracks in the walls but so do yours. The paint is peeling in some areas as well, you're used to it enough to not notice it. You take off your shoes, but keep your jacket. Probably in search of a safe feeling, maybe by fear of being vulnerable.

"You can sit on the couch, I'll order something.

You don't even have the will to eat right now, the ugly feeling everything entering your body might be threw back out instantly bothering you too much. However, you did sit on the couch. It smelt like him; you hated it. You were violating his property, his intimacy. You shouldn't be here.

But do you really have a choice ?

Sean is talking in the background, on the phone, yet, not a single word is understood by you. It's like he's speaking a whole new language. The red flowers on his TV stand keeps reminding you of the joker's card and his damn hat.

He hung up, that you heard, and left for another room. You hate to bother him, he probably only wanted to go home and sleep after a hard day but you messed up his plans. Grabbing the remote, you turn on the TV to empty your mind. You search for series, documentary or cartoons, only to be disappointed at the sight of obnoxious ads.

You end up watching the news, it being the sole channel not drowned in ads. A woman is speaking in a professional neutral voice, wearing a white shirt. She talks about the inflation killing our country before going onto her next subject; the outgrowing insecurity. The two preoccupation of the government, or at least, what they want you all to think about.

From what she says, a hold-up happened in a bank yesterday, in plain sight. (Why do they talk about it now, you don't now.) The building stank laughing gas. Only one man declares having seen the main suspect. Her chair slides to the side, leaving space for the video to appear and for the victim to testify; "Green disgusting hair and some fucked up clown make-up. That's the only thing I saw. He has no value, I'm telling you, criminals used to believe in things ! He has no respect for anyone, he killed his own team ! He's gonna come back for me, I'm sure of..." and he's erased from the screen at his outburst, for everyone to forget his trauma.

Did he say clown ?

"Indeed, the woman vigorously resumes, a faint smile on, was she laughing at the victim ? green hair and clown make-up is on brand today as everyone only talks about this mysterious criminal. After disappearing for months, the troublemaker is back in town and seems unstoppable. But has he truly ever gone away ?

It's not the same man, right ? No, no of course not. If he's a famous criminal, he has better things to do than harass insignificant useless civilians like you with stupid riddles. He robbed a bank ! Why would he even look in your direction? Fuck, what if he thinks you have some kind information? What if he think you're related to a criminal ? What if you are ?

-He calls himself Joker, always wears his clown make up and has a habit of wandering at night." The woman straightens her posture and clasps her hands together. "After yesterday's fiasco, the famous criminal already perpetrated his next attack. Earlier, at noon, the biggest hospital of the city was targeted. Cops were able to evacuate everyone urgently. Gotham is in shamble, people are afraid and angry. The police is trying to calm the crowds, in vain." Images are shown behind her of people running, yelling, stretchers evacuating and flashing cops car during her speech.

She continues talking but you stopped listening when finally a picture of the Joker was displayed on the screen, his face horrifyingly reminding you something. Too many information are going to your brain in so little time. You try to rationalize everything but it's hard when your mind is too tired to cooperate.

He's called the Joker. And you happen to receive joker cards. He wears make up. The man at the bar looked like he did. Hyperventilating is the only thing seemingly still possible from your body. You stand up, inking, sinking, learning, engraving his face to memory.

Two big scars, both going from each corner of his mouth to his cheeks.

Like a badly drawn smile.

"Sean !" you call. Your friend runs out of the bathroom, disheveled, shirt loose and no pants, only in underwear. He rushed out, scared something had happened. Your shaking pointer aim at the TV screen, at the face of the man on it. "It's him. He was at the bar."

When Sean looks at the man, a chill runs down his spine. He understands what might have happened earlier. He could see the purple suit the man had on on the picture, which was the exact same one he saw at the bar. Fuck, it is the same man. He knows the Joker, hell, everyone knows him here.

And that's bad news.

He's everywhere in everyone business. He has no sense of loyalty whatsoever, killing even his best allies and no one has the slightest clue what he wants. At the bar, he probably scared the shit out of you, he probably threatened you, too. Why, it's impossible to know. He's quite the unpredictable.

-Don't worry, he says, he probably forgot about you already. He's a scary man, likes to shock people a little. He always attack for a reason and you're not a criminal, so you're good."

But you couldn't believe it. He does not have all the information. He doesn't know about the tons of cards you received until now. Eyes completely stuck to the screen, you observe the face before you, knowing you probably wouldn't be able to escape him.

Somehow, this emission confirmed to you that he was real, that you weren't dreaming. And that you really were in it deeply.

Sean insists you shower to relax a little bit, you're holding onto the remote for dear life, nails digging in your palm. When in the bathroom, your eyes automatically gravitates towards the mirror, discovering your new face scarred by sleepless nights and cries. You're almost scared of your reflection. Sighing, your hands find themselves in your pockets alone but you're startled by the coldness they are greeted with. What have you in your pocket that is freezing like that ?

Your unease comes back in a rush when you take out another one of these cards from your jacket. Are you for real going crazy ? What is going on ? When did this get here ? How did it get here ? It's your damn jacket ! You had it in the work closet all day !

You're tired and doing this little fucked up game is not doing any good. A greasy almost wiped red is the first thing you see, his lips, you guess. He wears some kind of paint as lip stick, he fucking kissed the card, creepy bastard.

Turning the stiff paper, your eyes meet once again one of these painful riddle.

"I'm everywhere, you can't escape me and I'm coming for you. Who am I ?" tears slide quietly on your cheeks, the only sane reaction your emotionless state can give. You're not even moving, eyes staying fixated on the card; the tears are just physical. Body exhausted from it all. What is this now ? You know he's not talking about an object anymore, he's talking about himself. It's not riddles, it's threats. He's coming for you, what is he going to do ? Kill you ? Torture you, or worse ?

The shower did nothing to ease your nerves, you've never been so tensed in your life. What could you even do against this man ?

When Sean called you to eat, you let him know you weren't feeling the slightest hunger. He said nothing, simply keeping a plate for you on the kitchen counter.

You did not even blink an eye that night, paranoid at the slightest noise, a knife slept cautiously under your cushion. The windows and doors were completely shut and you would have loved to do the very same thing to your brain. You fell asleep, eventually, when you should have been up.

Sean was still asleep when you awoke the next day. You were late, and terribly so, the clicking clock on the wall warning you. It was already way past nine. You don't like to leave his house without even thanking him for his hospitality once again. But you'll see him tonight, at the bar. You'll probably have to quit, though. Not yet, as you have to secure another job. You can't risk being here without money, after all. Joker knows where you work at, no way you're staying more than necessary. But... he has to know about your restaurant job too, somehow.

You had a card in the closet, with his stupid shelf trap, after all.

You're safer there, maybe. It's quite the chic area. There's camera, people. Socialites are here, nobody attacks socialites. Usually, at least. Doubts subsists, the journalist on the TV affirmed the Joker attacked in the middle of the day, in plain sight. Would he attack the rich ? They're untouchable, their lawyer always know what to do and they know everyone. You can't kill a famous advocate, right ? It's like attacking the mayor. Remembering his face, you keep the unsettling impression he could kill anyone.

Fuck.

You take a piece of paper, write a few words on it, scotch it on the fridge and leave, dashing outside to not worsen your lateness. You were dead, oh you were so dead. Late couldn't even describe your situation by now. You boss was going to kill you, de-materialize you and send you in another world.

You ran until your legs couldn't support you anymore, people were side-eyeing you in the streets. Certainly thinking of you as some kind of thief or at the very least a criminal of some sort.

Jumping in the nearest bus, your legs being too weak to support you anymore, you finally arrive at your workplace ten minutes later. It was quarter to ten.

You're breathless, rushing once again to the rear of the restaurant. You push the back door open but to your surprise, it won't budge. What ? The guys never lock the door that early in the morning, they know you'll arrive, eventually. You knock a few times, knowing you had the key anyway but if someone was passing by inside, it would be quicker.

You don't have to wait that long as your boss himself is the one opening it for you, as if waiting beside it until your entry. He probably was. He crosses his arms on his chest, eyes glaring holes in you. Damn, you'll have to fight with him, again. You promised him you wouldn't be late anymore, he will never trust you again.

Well, it's not like he trusted you much before to begin with.

"Listen, I'm terribly sorry I'm late but... he scoffs.

-As If that was the only problem ! The man tightens his jaw, talking between his teeth. He approaches his head to yours, almost colliding your forehead together; he talks lowly, scared to be heard. You know damn well what's wrong.

Wow, okay. You were not expecting his reaction to be that dramatic. You're just (incredibly) late. It's not new. What's gotten into him ? You squint your eyes, at a loss of words.

-I was just... You start, ready to recite him once again your preposterous apologies.

-I don't give a fuck about you being late, he cracks, get out of here now ! You are not to put a single of your foot in this restaurant anymore ! You're gonna scare my customers ! In the process, a postilion left its house to attack your cheek. You cringe, immediately wiping it with your sleeve, shuddering in disgust.

-What ?

-What, what, he mimics you with a grimace and a weird voice, Get out of here ! He articulates each words slowly as if you were a foreigner, except his tone was harsh and firm. Haven't you seen the news ? If they hear a criminal is working here, I'm screwed.

-A criminal ? But I'm not... I'm, what the hell ? I'm not a criminal Tony.

-Yeah, yeah, and I'm rich ! Get the fuck out of here or at least, do me a favor and let me turn you in to the police." his face changes to disdain, suddenly thoroughly repelled by your being. "Man, you have to be some dirty criminal to have 600 000$ put on your face. What kind of shit have you done, huh ?

Six fucking what ?

-Uh, listen, I think there's some kind of misunderstanding here. I'm no criminal and I'm definitely not worth that much money.

Hell, in all your life, you did not even earn that much money !

-Hey, his tone changed to deviously adopt one sweeter. I don't want any problems okay ? With you, the cops or whoever is fucking wanting you dead. I'm an honest citizen.

What a hypocrite, he was literally yelling at you seconds ago.

You frown, trying to even understand what he's implying. You scratch your cheek, eyeing him from head to toe. He's in a tux, like always. He never do shit here, settling for bossing everyone around while trying to make you believe he's an irreplaceable element in the team.

Judging by his eyes, he is not kidding.

Is he for real firing you ? Just like that ? For some imaginary story he just made up ? Jobless, you will be jobless. He is firing you. A nervous chuckles escapes you, earning you a raise of the brow from Tony. No, oh no no ! You have this job, you did nothing wrong ! Life is already more shitty than it ever been ! Stalker, debts, fucking serial killer wanting your ass and now you lost your main job ? No, that won't do.

You were already planning to leave the bar, how are you supposed to find back two jobs ? One already was an ordeal.

-Honest citizen ? Are you blind ? You were more so than him at the moment. You don't even have an ounce of honesty in your fucking body ! Are you even aware of everything I did for this shitty place ? You can't fire me and you won't because no one else want to be your fucking slave ! Your job is slavery ! I don't want to be some kind of toy you throw away after you've had enough fun with it !

Tony was outraged you could talk to him like that. He was similar to a bourgeois in the eighteenth century, acting shocked after being the most gruesome person alive, putting his hand displayed on his chest and playing innocent.

-Me ? You should be honored to even be working ! You never understand, do you ? You are wanted, that's it ! There's nothing more, nothing less. You are fired. I am not hiring trash.

You hope the worst criminal of this town gets you, right here, for his fucking ugly disgusting restaurant to be destroyed to the very last crumbs. You'll use his body as a human shield while you're at it, after all, what else can he be useful for ?

Your body is boiling like lava. Hitting, jumping, crying, you don't know what you want, need, to do to externalize all of these toxic feelings. Never in your life have you felt more used, humiliated.

You knew he was an asshole, of course. Everyone does, but hell he fired you ! After years of being his toy !

You understand why people in Gotham are crazy. You understand why they suddenly breakdown and fall into crime. Their life, just like yours, was wasted by some self centered prick like him. Some self centered prick who are not even much richer than you, but think they will be when disrespecting you.

Your face isn't even warm, it's seething.

Your life is flashing before you, old friend, family, home, Mike. You won't even be able to pay your rent ! Of course chaos would be loved in a city where trash rules. Why the manifestation are so violent, why insecurity and banditry are prominent ? Because everyone is tired but nobody is listening. Because nobody wants to talk, they think they're at the top of the food chain.

And he won't change his mind. You're fired, that's all. Nothing can alters his decision. It's too late. He probably just created some poor excuses to get you out, you know it. Because you're not a criminal, and no one is giving away 600 000$ for your ass; he's lying. It's too farfetched.

You muster the calmest voice you can get while in such a boiling state, and God knows how hard it is. Wasting more time here is useless, he'll pay but not now, and not by you. You have a new problem: you need to find a job.

-Why don't you kill yourself, Tony ? Right now ? your eyes were empty against his outraged ones. That's why your wife left you, by the way. That's why she left you and took your damn kids. You don't even deserve to live, really, kill yourself, jump, it'll be better for everyone."

You shrug and turn away to never come back. You really hope he disappears forever.

And without anything else to do with your day, you went back home, body functioning by its own. With no diploma and no driving license, how were you supposed to find a job ? You had little experience, mostly having worked in little jobs everywhere. Cashiers, cleaner, babysitting, gardener (you really just cut bushes and mowed the lawn), security guard, fuck, you did it all. Plus, you have a second job and companies hate to arrange their schedules according to yours, in their point of view, you're the desperate one, you should manage your life.

It was safer to wander in Gotham now, the sun was bright in the sky. It was a clear day, really pretty. A shame you couldn't enjoy it.

You open the always creaking door of the building, feeling the freezing temperature inside. Truly a mystery, though a benediction in the hottest summer. A night out and it's like you already don't know this place anymore. You stand in the middle of the hall, staring at each crack in the walls, each suspicious stains, inhaling the disgusting smell emanating from it all.

Yeah, you hate this place.

Sighing and rubbing your tensed shoulders, you approach your mailbox. Opening it, you're pleasantly surprised when no cards is in sight. Maybe he finally got bored ? Your reaction back at the bar probably wasn't what he expected, not satisfying enough so he gave up. You hope so.

What's inside however is a A4 white sheet folded in two. Thinking a neighbor might have wanted to contact you, you open the paper. Yet, on it, the photo of your identity card in huge format, above it, your whole legal name with just below a price, written 'wanted' for treason. A chill run down your spine.

Okay, that is not funny. What the hell ? Did Tony did that ? If yes, how and why ? You pass your hand on your face, harshly rubbing your eyelids to wake you up. This is a joke, everything's a joke.

An echo brings you back on earth when someone goes down the stairs, upon seeing you, your neighbor halts. You offer him a tight lip smile out of pure politeness, which is a an act he does not even try to imitates as he eyes you as if seeing an animal. Do you look that bad ?

Awkwardly, you shift your weight on your feet to ease the tension growing in you. Why is he still looking at you ? The man, even though you were already well far away from him, distances himself and instead of going straight to the door to leave, bothers to make a detour in order to skirt you completely, without daring to approach a millimeter. Does he think you're going to bite, or what ? You two have talked in the past, briefly sure, but still. Fuck, his behaviour does not comfort you one bit.

When the door shut, you're left standing alone once again.

Things are definitely going in a direction you don't appreciate, you may need to hurry up before something really bad happens. Your hand fetches your phone in your back pocket, calling Sean. When he answers, he does not even bother to greet you.

"You okay? You left really early. You're at work ?

-I got fired, long story. I really need your help, again. I'm truly sorry I myself don't quite understand what's going on and... you stop your ranting, breathless and a lump in throat.

-It's okay, really. I don't mind. Tell me everything, how did you get fired ? Why ?

You called him for several reasons. The first being that he's kind of the only friend you have. The second being that Sean's family know people. They're all criminal at different degrees, whether it is gang leader, small thief or hitman. He's the only one actively trying to live an honest life.

-It's complicated and I'm still pissed about it. you tell him seriously, walking in circles in the hall. I have a question and I really need your answer.

-Not stressing at all. He tries to ease the mood, in vain.

-Am I wanted ?

Sean doesn't answer for twenty seconds too much. His silence is starting to worry you, why isn't he saying anything ? Is he confused ? Does he know ? Please, may he not hide something from you. Wanting to distract yourself, you take the stairs to join your flat. Your fingers were creasing the paper sheet in your hand so hard you could have ripped it.

-In like, he finally starts with a strained voice, a personality kind of way ? Relationship ? He chuckles awkwardly while you frown. Well, no offense but uh, I don't think I am attracted to you, I like you but I wouldn't say I want you, you know ? But you shouldn't be insecure, you're a really great person you know, and I mean, you're not ugly so...

-Sean, what the fuck ? You finally cut him when it hit you that he wasn't answering. You were on the floor just below yours, wanting to walk and not quite go home for the moment.

-I'm sorry, was that mean ? That was definitely mean. He clears his throat. Listen, what I meant was...

-No Sean I'm not insecure, everything's fine. I did not mean... Argh ! You're in this kind of environment, you should know !

-What environment ...?

You want to pull at his hair and shake his head back and forth to punish him for being so stupid. Or maybe you were just not being clear, it was surely that. You were incredibly stressed. Traveling between the different floors or the building to stretch your legs.

-Like, criminals, mafia, I don't know. It's... You sigh, your anger dissipating when you realized you were being a little harsh to him. Weird things keep happening to me and I think I'm going crazy for thinking I may have a price on my head.

-Oh, wanted wanted. No because I thought... He coughs. Never mind. I can definitely tell you that. But honestly, odds are low. No offense but you have nothing to give to anyone. You don't have a lot of money. So I don't think anyone wants you.

Damn.

-Why do you think that anyway ? he asks.

Very briefly, you explain to him why Tony had fired you, still using the stairs and floors as a distraction. Of course, you then told him about the paper you found in your mailbox and the weird encounter with your neighbor.

-I'm just really fucking lost, Sean. I'm sorry, you've been nothing but nice to me and I keep snapping at you, I-I don't know what's going on.

-You're freaked out, it's normal. I don't blame you. I'll help you, send me the wanted poster you got. Maybe it's fake."

Of course, you tell him. You'd do pretty much anything to get out of this situation. You want it to be fake, but there's just an accumulation of bad things that tend to make you believe it's true. Looking around you, you notice to be on the last floor of the building. Flattening the paper sheet back, trying to erase all the creases, you lay it on the dirty floor of the hallways. You tear your phone away from your ear for a simple moment to take the picture. You press send.

You wait impatiently for him to say something, anything. But his reaction is clearly not the one you were waiting for:

-Oh fuck.

-What ? you panic, feeling your heart rises in your throat. What do you mean 'oh fuck' ? Sean ?" But the nauseating ringing of the call being cut short echoes in your ear.

He hung up.

You bite your lip, shutting your eyes as hard as you can. Your fingers find your closed lid, pressing on it as if calming an upcoming headache. What the fuck is going on exactly ? Why did he hang up ? Did you say something ? Did he see something ? You can't keep doing that, nobody answered any of your questions since this morning. You are tired.

You give up. You'll go back home, sleep a little. Research a job in the newspaper and hope for things to get better. Sighing, you walk the stairs once again, only this time to really move on.

Has everyone given up on you ? It feels like it, no one seems akin to want to help you. You never did any wrong to anyone. You always hold the door open to people, you give the few you have to homeless people in the streets. You payed what an old woman lacked in money for her groceries. You work everyday of the damn week, with no holidays.

What have you done ?

Sure, you're starting to break down, you told Tony to kill himself, you yelled at Sean. What the hell ? Never would you have done that in your life. What's happening ? It's getting scary out there, yet, no one's here for you to confide in.

You never should have left your hometown, you punished yourself.

The first thing you do once inside your home is falling head first on the couch. Feeling tears filling up your eyes. You don't fight them, letting them slide freely along your cheeks. After all, it's the good part of having a place to yourself, you get to cry alone in the safety of it.

You'll have to give it up, though. Without necessary money, you'll eventually need to move. Probably find a roommate and live in a red light district.

You spent the next hours trying to read classified ads, key word being 'trying' as your watery eyes didn't allow you to see much. And you ended up watching TV, like you always do. You couldn't fathom the idea of being that alone. When did it all go wrong ? Are you a horrible person ?

The news-woman kept talking and talking without stopping, saying the same things as yesterday and probably tomorrow as well. Inflation, criminality, inflation, criminality. Where were you in all of this ? What about the population ? Where were the solutions ? Is this city really stuck in a loop of chaos ?

The screen now displays a cop in a police station, sharing his feeling and impression about the improvement of the city. You don't listen to him, more struck by what's behind him: a poster on a cork board. Yours. It's your face, with the price, 'treason' shit and everything. The exact same poster you had in your mailbox. The situation is that bad, huh ? Your wanted poster is right next to The Joker one. Is there a link ? Are they hoping to find him after finding you ? They're wrong, then.

You wait, impatiently trying to decipher whether the policeman will talk about you or not. But he does not, so you lay back down on the couch. How does wanted people live freely ? You've been researched for a few hours and you're already going crazy with the feeling everyone's watching you.

Do you even know a criminal in this town ? Well, the only one you do know is Sean. You briefly meet them at the bar, as part of your job. Befriending them is not for you though, so you have no useful information to give the Joker. Then what does he want ?

The doorbell rings through the flat, screaming at you to get up and do something with your life. A chill run through your body, breath stopping for a second out of fear to be heard. For a while, you don't move. Who could it be anyway ? Surely bad news. Now that you're wanted, it could be anyone. But the rings echoes again, forcing you to get up. Slowly and as quietly as possible, you slide to the door. Eye staring through the peephole, you're surprised to discover Sean standing anxiously outside.

How did he get your address ?

Opening the different locks on your door, you however keep the small chain closing it. It wasn't much of a protection to be honest, but you needed to lie to yourself a little bit.

"You hung up on me. Is the only thing you say when your eyes meet.

-I know, I'm really sorry. Are you okay ?

-How did you get my address ? It's weird.

He explains to you how your information are given on your work file. You stand inside, judging him from head to toe. He welcomed you at his place, you have to be polite or you'll really look like an opportunistic. But it's hard when you don't know his exact thoughts.

-Why did you hang up ?

-I talked to my uncle, he has a bar in the center of Gotham. Every criminal goes there, he knows everything.

-And ?

-You're safe, it's false. You're not wanted. He... He didn't see your poster. So it was a bad joke. Silence, you don't believe him. I promise. You're not in danger.

Then why is your face plastered in all Gotham ? Is he completely sure about that information ? You hate to act this way but, it's too late for him to tell you that anyway. False or not, the poster of your head is everywhere. People will try to find you. The veracity of it all doesn't matter anymore.

Though you can't shake that uneasy feeling inside you alerting you of his lie. You saw your face on TV, in a police station. It's not nothing !

-How are you so sure ?

-I told you, you have nothing that could interest such a dangerous man as the Joker.

He's right, on the other hand, something's definitely wrong.

-What do we do, now ?

-You could let me in ? I want to help you but we can't talk if I stay outside.

Halfheartedly, you let him in. He thanks you, admires a few seconds his surroundings before plopping down on the couch. You stay standing even after closing the door shut, crossing your arms on your chest and awaiting his arguments.

Should you tell him you saw your face in a police station ? No, you need to know what he's going to tell you. He's lying, you know it now. But why ?

You thought he could be a friend, turn out you can't trust him that much. Or are you losing it ? Policemen are quite dumb here, they are completely capable of believing everything they see and considering they're desperate to catch the Joker; they could have took your poster as a track.

-What's your plan ? you ask.

-It depends on what you want.

Well, you want a lot of different things. Money, happiness, freedom, family, equality, peace. Right now though, one will be enough.

-I need a job, I can't pay my rent this month otherwise.

-That one's easy. He crosses his arms on his chest, sinking into the sofa cushions. Try ask your bank, they'll lend you some.

-No they won't Sean, I'm indebted. Seriously, did he really think life was this easy ? Did he really think you haven't thought of doing just that ?

He sighs and shrug, crossing his legs, he put his feet on the table. Your eyes are enough to tell him to put them back on the ground. He's a little bit too comfortable for your liking.

-It's these immigrants my friend. We lack money because of them.

What ?

-No, it's just poor distribution of resources. With the ongoing inflation and such, it has literally nothing to do with immigration. You frown, confusion lacing your tone, answering him as if asking a question, because what ? That was so out of pocket ? It's stupid to think like that, it's too easy to accuse others. They're as fucked as we are, you know ? Don't say that.

That's what Gotham thinks ? That each one of their problem is caused by others ? Industries, Government, Politics, they're the one causing all of this. How does someone get to this conclusion ? You thought Sean was good, hell, his family was poor. They survived thanks to drugs and banditry. He's bold to think immigrants are the problem: His family literally embezzles money.

-Jeez, calm down.

Well, it's difficult to be calm towards this kind of stupidity. But at least it keeps you in check, you know who he's voting for. Never trust anyone. It's true you don't know him that well, after all.

-You want my help or not ?

It's harder to see him in the same light as before after this, but if he's the only one willing to help, you can't waste this chance.

-Yeah. You sigh, ashamed with yourself. I need people to forget about me.

-Good, meet me at the back of the bar at the end of our shift. He's not waiting for an answer as he gets up to leave.

-Wow. No ?

He stops in his tracks as you block his way.

-What do you mean, 'no' ?

Is he serious ? With everything you risk ? Criminals at the bar know you, hell, some of them see you every night. No, you are not joining him in the dark in a creepy alley late at night when people want you dead. Also, you need to think a little before jumping straight back to work, it's dangerous.

-Because I don't want to die ?" You need to tell him. "Okay, Sean, I may not understand everything but I know you're lying to me. Am I wanted or not ?

He already lost every ounce of respect you had for him. First with the lying, then with the whole immigrants things.

-You don't believe me ? Is he trying to make you feel guilty ?

-I saw my fucking head on the TV. I believe that's enough proof for me. You cut the conversation straight, not wanting him to keep lengthening things uselessly.

Sean doesn't answer, seemingly hesitating. What is he thinking ? He has to respond. He's constantly trying to avoid the subject and it's getting frustrating.

-That means I'm in danger, right ?

-Yes." he finally answers. Thank God, you think, God why, you also think. "But not because of the Joker. He's not responsible for what's happening to you. All the cards and riddles are from him, yes, but someone saw you two talking at the bar and thought they could get to him by killing you.

You entirely stopped trusting him after he mentioned the cards and the riddles. Because never, in all your discussions, have you mentioned receiving these. He knows too much.

You don't bring it up, of course.

-Explain.

Who could have told him about the riddles, if not you ? The one sending them ? Yes, but Sean's terrified of him. Plus, he couldn't talk to him, even if he had the courage to. It's the Joker, from what you understand, you don't approach him easily. He's not the small local criminal. He's something more.

-The Joker's well known. Everyone wants to defy him. And someone saw you.

-Who ? you ask, finally getting some well deserved qualitative answers.

-His name was, uh, Korej I believe.

-Ko...Rej... you repeat, unimpressed, frowning.

Is it you or does it sound vaguely similar to Joker, but with the letters all mixed up ?

-It's his pseudonym." He hastily answers. "But his real name is John, he lives in the richest part of Gotham. He's a mob leader. He fucking despises the Joker, that's why his name is Kojer.

-Korej, you corrected.

-Yeah, it's difficult to remember. It's quite the shitty name.

He really think you're dumb, right ? You clasp your hands together, catching his drifting attention.

-Okay, well, thank you for everything Sean. It was a pleasure, truly. But now I'm gonna ask you to leave.

-You don't believe me ?

No, no you don't. Everything he ever said to you since he first came here was either weird or false. And sometimes weirdly false.

-Please, leave my house.

You'll go to the nearest police station, ask for help. And if nobody helps you, you'll find a way out of here. This city is dead anyway, there's nothing for you anymore. It's too late.

-Don't you want to talk about it ? he asks hurriedly, displaying his open hands in the air as if ready to grab your shoulders.

-If you want us to talk, okay, you yield. But choose somewhere safe, with a lot of people. I am not joining you at the back of the bar at night where everyone could kill me.

You're going crazy. Why are you even accepting this ? It's not a dream, nor a joke, you really are wanted. People want to kill you. There is money on your head. Sean is deep in thoughts before getting the enlightenment he needed, suddenly vigorously saying:

-Shopping center.

-What ?

-Let's meet at the shopping center, in two hours. I have things to prepare, people to call. You have my number, I'll call you. Is it good for you ?

His behaviour is screaming danger, on the other hand, a rendez-vous in a crowded shopping center at 3PM is not as risky as the bar. And if things turn bad, you still have a chance to run away, hidden in the mass. You hope the things he'll prepare will help you, and not worsen everything.

"Okay. You yield, once again.

-Thank you so much, he exclaimed." Why is he thanking you ? "You're a real sweetheart. It will be worth it."

And with these last words, he left.

You won't go. Of course you won't go damn, you don't want to die. He's so suspicious ! Why so much relief ? He's the one supposed to help you, you're not doing anything for him. You absolutely changed your mind. Yesterday, he was that nice man who saved your life, welcoming you home warmly. Today, he's, well, you don't know who he is anymore. You want to understand, discover what's wrong, but at the same time, it's not yours to do.

Fuck, you need to empty your mind. It's tiring, to be suspicious of everyone, to always have to thoroughly think about everything you do. You plop down on your couch, grabbing the remote and turning the TV on. There's a cartoon going on. Tom and Jerry, a cat chasing, or at least trying to, a mouse. But the mouse's well smarter than the cat. 

Each time he thinks he'll catch it, the mouse finds a way to turn the situation to his advantage. Because in fact, the cat will never win. He has the illusion of strength because of his height, when the mouse is vicious, malign. 

Also, if the cat caught the mouse, well, the show wouldn't have any interest anymore. 

On the screen, the mouse finds a way to slam the door in the cat face, who's dizzy. To illustrate it, stars and birds are rotating around his head.

You don't know why the mouse does all this, maybe to survive. The small animal found the comfort of a warm house with good cheese and doesn't want to leave. The cat, however, is forced to chase it all day. As his owners force him to. It's his role, as the house guard, to chase rodents. Otherwise, he'll be replaced. 

You have to be really damn fucked for you to start analyzing a stupid cartoon. 

Jeez, it's a cat chasing a mouse, it's silly, it's fun to watch. You don't think, just turn off your brain and have fun. Why can't you do just that ?

Sighing, you change channel, trying to find something worth watching. You end up watching the news, it keeping you grounded. It helps you think you're not the worst case, that there's always worse somewhere. It's deeply selfish, but hey, you can't do much about it. Your life is pretty much ruined at the moment. 

What's today's problem? Well this time, the subject is centered around climate change and its catastrophes.

"Global warming. Today, in Spain, alarming news. The national temperature has increased considerably by 46°F (5°C) since last year. The Spanish are revolted, the world is encountering a record in warmth. Their main claim, she reads her notes, "It's summer's weather when we're in autumn." She briefly gulps her saliva. "Indeed, the local heat reached 86°F (30°C) while 73°F (23°C) at night. IPCC's report is alarming, something has to change. Is the world government going to act ?" She quits her serious tone and changes the subject. "Local news; what's happening in Gotham today ?"

Ah, here you go. You turn up the volume. 

"Earlier in the main avenue today, several store signs were vandalized by a group of masked men, it is thought to be perpetrated by an illegal organization. It's a real raid that happened, terrorizing the passers-by and owners. The identity of the delinquent stays unfounded. We know that the police department is currently working on..."

You mute the TV. Vandalizing stores, now ? They didn't even steal anything, who does that ? On the screen, a replay of surveillance cameras showing masked men running, pushing people and only stopping to draw weird shapes on a few of the stores. It's bad, but not quite as bad as your case. Putting the sound back, you're perfectly timed with the conclusion of the event. 

"Where is Batman ? Has the vigilante abandoned our city ? We hope for his prompt return in time for him to apprehend the Joker." 

Batman, right. You forgot that man was even existing. While some wonder who is hiding behind the mask, you're left questioning yourself on which side is he. If he's with the cops, is he a good or bad man ? Police is part of the problem, certainly. But Batman sometimes helps people, although you never encountered him yourself. But is he really with the police ? 

Who is he working with ? And why is he what he is ?

"Whatever... You rub your eyes."

Why do you even keep thinking about that, it's not your problem anymore. You're leaving. Gotham has nothing left for you. Batman can do whatever he wants, for all you care. He doesn't know about your insignificant existence, why waste it thinking of him ? 

But are you really leaving this place, though ? 

Are you really about to leave your life and flee like a coward ? Yes, is the obvious answer. You could think about it, is the less obvious answer. 

Yes, your life is at stake. On the other hand, Sean could really be useful as you're still in danger as long as you stay in Gotham, he's a considerable ally in this story. And not only Sean but his family as well could help you. 

You know about his aunt. That woman is quite well known. A powerful gang chief. You could pay her to get escorted outside of Gotham. You're already indebted anyway, you have nothing to lose anymore. Moreover, nothing guarantees your safety once outside of Gotham. If the Joker is as feared as shown in the media, changing city won't be enough. Which is why you need to clear the problem directly from the root. 

Okay, you won't lose anything in going, right ? Maybe your life, but it's worth a try. You'll join Sean. Yes, you'll join him. 

When the time arrived, you couldn't shake that uneasy feeling taunting you all while preparing yourself. What if someone chases after you ? What if you get kidnapped ? You won't, of course you won't. Sean will be there when you arrive. He's dissuading enough. He's a big man. 

You found yourself before the gigantic mall before even being able to process it. It was crowded, people entering and getting out every second. For a moment, your eyes search for Sean in the rabble only to find no one. He's probably inside, it's safer. 

Tightly holding the hood stuck on your head, you stare intensely at whoever crosses your path, trying to gain enough courage to finally enter the building. 

It's scary to be wanted, the displeasing impression everyone's looking at you is suffocating. You could get killed, right now. Abducted, even. 

When the automated doors open, you're greeted by the cold air conditioning. It's autumn, why the hell would someone want to freeze to death ? 

Checking your phone, there's still no sign of Sean. He couldn't possibly stand you up, right ? He's the one who insisted for you to come. It wouldn't be logical. He's just late.

You can't really afford to be waiting in your situation, every second matters. You don't know what will happen. And, yeah, you're kind of starting to freak out. You don’t know where your wanted poster ended up. Maybe you’re already dead, and, shit, you're alone in such a vulnerable position. Fuck, why did you come ?

You’re trying to stay rational, thinking of every possibility as to why he’s not here. You nod your head to yourself, trying to ease your nerves. He'll come. You just need a little patience. He said he needed to prepare things beforehand, that's why he's late. He's late because he'll help you. 

You miss the mall, it's been long since you last came here, too preoccupied with your two jobs. You used to like watching people but quickly stopped. First, you once or twice made an awkwardly long eye contact with a man who then wanted to beat you up for provoking him, "like a pussy". Then, the second reason is that people are just... Mean. You'd look at a pretty woman only for her to spit on the ground. In the street is already disgusting enough, but the mall ! You'll look at a man hugging a woman, just to realize that they both don't know each other and that he's drunk out of his mind. 

Maybe you do need to get out of here, actually. 

Your phone still hasn't buzzed, you need to do something with your body or you’ll go crazy. It’s obvious staring daggers at your device every second won’t help. He's not here yet, you need to accept it and wait. You'll walk a little to not get noticed, your tensed and motionless body language is screaming suspicious and people are starting to side eye you. 

It’s only natural of your legs to start bringing you to the places you used to go to, only to realize that one of your favorite stores closed permanently. Of course, with the crisis. It’s not surprising. 

"Fucking morons..." Mutters a man to your left. Upon looking in his direction, you meet the owner of the voice standing on a stepladder, trying to energetically scrub with a sponge his store's sign. Key word being 'trying' as it's not successful. 

Right, earlier's vandals. 

He's cursing to himself, scrubbing progressively more aggressively the almost intact big black 'O' tagged on the sign mocking him. 

"Can I know who did that? asked your curiosity. 

-Fucking assholes, he answers without even looking your way, that's who did that. 

-What do they looked like ?

-No idea, he grumbles. They all had that stupid mask on. All white with some blue and red. No idea what that was supposed to be. Ask the other owners if you're so interested, but you're late. Journalists already left. 

Oh, right. He thinks you’re a journalist. 

-Thank you, have a nice day sir.

-Yeah yeah…”

You heard several stores were vandalized, where are the others ? Letting your legs wander, you get your answer a few meters/feet away. A sign is hanging by an electric thread. 

It’s a shoe store, but its signboard was now displaying a big black 'O'. You lift a brow, confused about its meaning. Usually, tag either insults or convey a message. Anyhow, there's a sense. Now though, you can't quite pinpoint it. O, what starts with an O. Optimism, oppression, obedient omelette ? It can be anything. Maybe it's not a letter, but a signature? 

Two stores away (you see it out of the corner of your eye) another of these is vandalized, this time, a bold 'B' was written. What word could this correspond to? B for Batman ? It's not a word, mostly a name. Baby, maybe. Bomb, bag, anything. Hell, it could even be badminton for all you know. 

Next letter is directly after the previous one, a 'S' hiding the dress logo the sign was exhibiting prior. The paint is dripping a little and one or two drops can be seen on the ground. 

"Those damn scum." a man grumbles, who you think might be the owner of the poor store. He crosses his arms on his chest, looking up disapprovingly. 

You ignore him, now thrilled by all of this. You want to discover all the tags. It's not like you have much better to do anyway. Sean still hasn't answered you. You know what to do to wait: find words for each letter. S makes you think of sabotage, skull and soup. 

You see the next letter from afar, this time, an "E" welcomes you. Though, this one was partially erased. You guess the owner found the right product. It's now possible to read the sign and enjoy the sweet sight of what seems to be a sex shop sign. Is it even legal ? There's kids coming into this mall. Anyway, a lot of words start with E; Electric, Ebola, education, eagle. 

You don't find the next letter right away, needing to walk a little to find it. But when you do, you're weirdly excited. It's just a bunch of words on some signboards, yet, it's fun. Like an orienteering race. But mostly because you don't get to have much fun today, and this being out of your quotidian, it's easy to be ecstatic.  

Further away, it's not one but two letters that greets you; two "S", entwined like snakes. Shit, is it a nazi kind of tag ? It looks like the police's symbol there was back then. If that’s the case, you don’t find this as exciting as before. Not a good thing to write. There's already so much chaos here, you pray nazis are not going to be added to it. You think of the word 'Swiss' for this letter.

Next letter is an 'I'. Investigation, investment, ice. A woman bypasses you, hitting your shoulder with her. You squeal out of surprise, the woman doesn't even notice you. What a shitty town. You check your phone again, making sure Sean didn't try to contact you. No reply. 

Walking ahead, the next vandalized store needs you to turn to the left to be seen, it's an 'O', again. But you don’t have the time to think of words that you already see the next letter. It’s a ‘N’. Night, Nemo (as in the movie) and nuisance. You already found words starting with ‘O’ anyway. It seems to be the last one as you walk and turn but no others appear. Disappointment lingers, sad it ended so soon. 

What is it, does it form a word at the end ? Like street art ? Maybe, a shame you already forgot all the previous letters. It was fun, though. You'd do it again, it's entertaining. Like a track game where you follow a path. Vibrations are bringing you back to reality, rushing to take it, you rotate to leave the place in order to find somewhere calmer. In your haste, you bump straight into someone. You freeze for a second, phone in hand.

They’re wearing a mask, a clown mask on their black hair. And a really ugly one. It’s shiny, like plastic and it surely is. Their eyes are the only thing you see through the holes. Whoever that is is staring right into your damn soul. Their eyes are empty, so empty you might think they’re on some kind of drug. The big red nose in the middle of their face is mocking you, laughing at you to be scared of something so ridiculous. Two small tufts of green hair are standing on each side of his head, the false bloody teeth drawn on the mask is the final touch that tells you to leave.

“Sorry.” you mumble, avoiding eye contact.

Your hands are holding your phone so tightly that fear strikes you that you could actually break the screen. The clown does not move when you walk past him, and you realize right then and there that they were well too close to you for it to be normal. You hate clowns, you hate them so much. All of this because of that stupid Joker. That person probably wasn’t even related to him, maybe he was one of the vandals. You don’t know, you don’t want to.

When you pick up Sean’s call, he apologizes for being late and plans an area for you to meet. You’re before the sex shope tagged by the “E” by the time Sean joins you. You’re not as convinced as before to destroy the problem from its root after the clown encounter. You’re not a hero, not a criminal. You’re nothing, you don’t have anything to prove to anybody. You should leave.

“You okay ? You look like you saw a ghost ? He laughs, but he’s not your friend so you don’t.

-So ? Got out much more coldly than you intended it to be.

-Jeez, you’re impatient. I’ll help you, I told you I would, right ?

You did, doesn’t mean you really will. You cross your arms on your chest, approaching him for him to hear you more clearly.

-Do you have any information ? Ways to get me out of here ? To resolve this ? Anything ?

He sighs, stepping back as if you’re the plague and looking elsewhere in the crowd. He seems conflicted, forehead creased by his worry.

-I can’t tell you now, walls have ears.

-Then why the fuck would you tell me to join you here ? If you’re so scared to be spied on, we could have continued this discussion at my place.

Your tension is building up. It’s fucking frustrating to talk with him. He starts teasing you with interesting information, then, he retreats and acts as if nothing happened and you’re just impatient. He told you to come here, he told you he’d help you.

-At least answer my questions, you plead, I don’t even know who… Who is the Joker ? Who is he exactly ? He physically tensed, his shoulders literally hunched forwards. What the hell ?

-Well, uh, it's complicated.

Damn, even that couldn’t be answered. Why are you still here ?

-What do you mean it's complicated ? Is he a terrorist ? A thief ? A gang leader ? A serial killer ? It's a simple question.

-He's a little bit of everything, truly.

Why does he always seem so nervous talking about him ?

-Sean for the love of God, he’s not here ! people are starting to look in your direction, but you couldn’t care less. You can calm down, he won’t kill you ! You gotta breathe a little, man. Aren’t you the one who literally told me he wasn’t after me ? It’s not the first time you’re lying to me and I’m starting to lose it. Why am I here ? Tell me, why are we fucking here if you’re not gonna help me ! Who is this man and what does he want ? Why does he want to kill me ! It’s…” a gunshot whistles in the air, cutting you in your sentence straight away, screams erupting from all sides.

Your body acts before you can think, throwing yourself on the ground. It’s hard to understand what’s going on, but in a way, you don’t try to. You get up quickly and lose yourself in the running and yelling crowd. Your paranoia is not helping, was this gunshot aimed at you ? Sean is somewhere in the mall, but it’s too late. You gave him a chance, he wasted it.

Another gunshot echoes, followed closely by the sound of a glass breaking. Your senses are overwhelmed; names, insults, orders are being yelled. Is the Joker here ? You need to get out of here, now. Bodies are pushed against yours, your clothes are being tugged on. But when you were about to reach the exit, someone harshly grabs you out of the crowd, pulling you aside. It’s panic in your head, survival instinct kicking in. You yank your arm out of the person’s hold but freeze upon seeing Sean threaten you with a gun.

“Sean, you start with a shaky voice, what the fuck ? his eyes are cold, you don’t recognize him. He looks at you as if you're nothing, as if you're no one.

-He’s here, he states, looking paranoidly to the sides. He’s… He’s going to kill me if I don’t bring you to him.

-Bring me to who, Sean ? But you fear you might already know.

-The Joker.

Of course he’d betray you. Who are you kidding ? You knew, you knew he would trap you. Your eyes can’t leave the sight of the gun barrel, following each of its movements. He’s shaking, you realize. Is he scared, hesitating ? Or motivated by a hatred so pure he can’t even control his own feelings ?

-Sean, you try nonetheless, he’ll kill you either way okay ? He’s a sadist, we can… you gulp, throat suddenly burning dry. We can leave together, we’ll leave the city and…

-You don’t understand, do you ? He’ll track you, he’ll track us down. And then, he’ll slaughter us like pigs. You hear me ? He’ll slaught…

-I get it ! I get it ! you scream, shutting your eyes in order to erase those images from your head.

How can you even change his mind ? You doubt he’d fold with some speech about your friendship. It’s not like you two were that close to be honest. Sure, you liked him but that changed since the beginning of the Joker catastrophe.

-He promised me money, he explained himself. As if you’d forgive him after hearing his justification. A lot of money. You can’t understand what it’s like to… when you see him lower his weapon, you interrupt him, drived by your anger.

-How can you be so stupid ? He was, he truly was an idiot for believing the Joker. You haven’t known that beast for long, but each time someone defined him, it was always along the lines of wicked, treacherous, vicious and ruthless. So yeah, he was stupid. Was your life worth something as insignificant as money ? Has he ever liked you ?

-Shut up ! I’m done living like a fucking tramp !

Tramp is a big word coming from him, daddy pays him everything ! You’re tired of his tantrums, he is a grown man, ten or fifteen years older than you and he’s acting like a child. Suffering is your quotidian as well, but you would’ve never betrayed him. In fact, that is your problem. You’re not a scumbag like him, that’s why you can’t stand him. You have no value similar to his, if he even has some. By what right does he think he can use you to get, what, a few dirty money ?

If you're going to die, at least you'll die telling him every resentment you had towards him.

-You think I am happy ?! Your life’s better than mine ! Fuck you Sean, you’re an asshole ! You’re a fucking asshole ! You’re the one that should die !

-Shut the fuck up you whore !

A burning pain sliced through you along a sharp sound, legs losing all strength and making you fall on the ground. Your ears are ringing and your breath is cut for a few long seconds. What happened ? Is the first question popping in your head, but the atrocious pain coursing through your leg answers you. Your hand touches your hurting limb, but retreats it instantly at the pain. So you look down.

Blood, there’s blood everywhere.

It’s yours. It’s… It’s your damn blood, you’re bleeding. You have a hole in your leg and it’s gushing out blood. He shot you. Fuck, oh God, oh God, you’re bleeding. You’re fucking bleeding and it hurt like hell. It hurt so damn bad, why, why did he do that ? Your eyes are stinging and soon, tears fall down your cheeks. Are you going to die ? Here ? With nothing accomplished ? Alone ? Shot by the only man you thought was your friend ?

-I believe alive was written on the contract.

You recognize that voice, you hear it in your nightmares.

-Joker ! I… She tried to run away, I had to immobilize her !

It’s weird, your body is exhausted, yet, the pain is keeping you well awake. Your head is heavy when you lay it on the dirty ground of the mall. Eyes trailing slowly to the two men talking. Finally, he’s here before you. He’s shown himself. Even if it’s only the second time you see him, you talked and heard about him so much these past hours it feels like you’ve been with him for months. And maybe you were, in a way. Sean walks past you, not glancing towards your drained body on the ground. He’s scared of him. He plays the big man with you, but he’s a little bitch.

How is Sean, a man built like a fridge, so terrified of someone so ridiculous as the Joker ?

Who is he ?

The pain in your leg makes it feel numb and at the same as alive as it never been. The Joker sighs exaggeratedly, he tilts his head to the side to look at you. Shivers shake your whole body. Is that it ? This is the man who’ll abduct you ? You’d rather get killed instantly.

-And right on Valentine’s day...” mumbles the Joker.

It’s not, it’s autumn. Valentine’s day is in February, in winter. From your position, police sirens are heard and red and blue lights are flashing, reflecting on the windows. The Joker takes out a gun out of his long purple jacket and aims it towards Sean.

“Please ! He yells. I-I did what you wanted ! She’s here, please don’t kill me ! I’m a hitman, I’ll work for you !

Is he, now ? He's barely a barman.

-Do I look like I'm searching for employees ? He asks, opening his arms and bending his hands for his palms to face the ceiling before looking around him for confirmation. Because I’m not.”

You're torn between relief and horror at the sight of Sean falling to the ground after another gunshot, bathing in his own blood. He did betray you, he brought you here, he brought this upon you, upon himself. But he’s dead. You wished him to, but now that he is you’re horrified.

It’s then that you realize that The Joker is surrounded by his masked goons. Probably the one who vandalized the store, now that you think about it. You walked right into his trap.

“Well ? What are you waiting for ? he asks almost comically. Bring the package to the car !

When several men surrounds you, you're left yelling and fighting to get out of their holds, in vain, of course. The blood gushing out of your hurting limb isn't helping much, anyway. You feel your strength slowly evaporate from you.

Shotguns echoes, but your ringing ears prevent you to precisely locate it. Soon, they throw you in the back of a car and close the door, leaving you in the dark.

This time again, loneliness is your sole partner.