i'm sorry but tooth with dark skin is what i like

klaineequalslove  asked:

Any chance you could update the weed/recreational weed tag? I'm on mobile so sorry if it's been asked recently

here you go!

Old Houses by words_reign_here (20/20 | 6,893 | NC17)

Written from a prompt I found on tumblr you can find here.

Basically, a 21 Jump Street meets Teen Wolf meets shadowy government agency.

Even a lie is a psychic fact by Marishna (1/1 | 1,632 | PG13)

It was nearly the end of his second year living with a psychic who liked to dabble in some witchcraft and a werewolf from a southern Californian werewolf who was baked more often than not.

And Derek, who’d become somewhat of an unofficial fourth roommate.

Sevens and Eights by calrissian18 (1/1 | 10,092 | PG13)

Stiles has a bandage slung under his chin like a disembodied helmet strap when Derek first meets him. It’s complemented by a chipped front tooth and a scrape of road rash across his cheek.

Blowback by Squilkey (1/1 | 1,176 | PG13)

Stiles and Derek sit in the Jeep, waiting for Scott to return. Derek has a baggie.

you know me, i had plans (but they just disappeared) by wolfiery (asswords) (1/1 | 8,257 | R)

“Stiles,” Erica chimes brightly, with a sharp edge to her red-painted grin that makes him feel a prickle of concern. This was a catwoman here, he could tell. “We’ve been telling Derek that he can’t expect to go through his whole life wearing a cap and a basic t-shirt like a classic pro-sport cliché. What do you think?”

Instead of answering right away, he turns to Derek on his right and tries to quickly look him over, but then he sees the way Derek’s tan forearms have veins and the baby blue shirt stands out against his skin. The cap is showing his big ears and highlights his dark eyelashes under the hood and so to him, he’s pretty sure the guy is too fucking beautiful. He swallows quickly and looks back to both of them, quickly answering, “He looks fine.”

Never Leave the Good Shit Behind by Virago77 (PriPri) (1/1 | 3,332 | NC17)

“…I’m pretty sure I’ve fallen in love with you over the past year and I was devastated when you left with Cora, because I didn’t think you were ever going to come back—I mean why should you?! But you came for me when I needed someone so badly, and you were so nice to me, and I didn’t plan to kiss you and I panicked, and… And then I realized way, way later, that you kissed me back—why did you do that?”
“When I said I had people here that I wanted more than my sister, I was talking about you…“

Between Men and Lions by standinginanicedress (9/9 | 102,164 | NC17)

“I thought we could be friends,” Derek offers, to which Stiles gets an odd smile on his face.

“Friends,” he repeats, an odd inflection.

“Yes, friends.”

Stiles laughs, just barely. It’s more of an exhalation of breath than it is genuine mirth or anything else, and then he smiles. “I’m pretty good at friends,” he says with a tilt to his head, and Derek clears his throat and has to look away.

anonymous asked:

Hey can you do a drabble where yousef is jealous when the balloon squad come home to find the bio buddies studying together or something ? Please it would mean the world your other pieces are so good and I'm craving yousana (sorry it's quite specific feel free to change details) ❤️❤️

Yousef being jealous™ for sana

Sana + Isak friendship

Sana rolled her eyes as Isak huffed to her right. He was tugging the text book on to his lap, his long legs crossed beneath it. His finger moved over the words as he read, the way a young child would while learning to read.

“I’m telling you you’re wrong.” Sana said, and he waved her off with his hand as he concentrated on his reading. “I don’t know why you question me at this point.”

“Because contrary to popular belief, you’re not always right.” Isak sneered at Sana before returning to his reading.

“Okay,” Sana said with a lift of her shoulders. “It’s your time to waste.”

“Fuck,” came as a low grumble from Isak and a small smirk tugged at the corner of Sana’s lips.

“What was that?” Sana asked, knowing fully well what it was.

“Okay… perhaps this time you were right.”

Sana could tell it was hard for Isak to admit that and she tried, but failed, to keep the gloating out of her voice when she replied. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

Isak tossed the text book aside as if it had betrayed him and reached behind them for a piece of pizza, picking off a couple of the toppings and setting them in the box lid.

“Not a fan?” Sana asked, motioning towards the discarded toppings.

“Nah,” Isak replied before taking a large bite of the slice. He made an appreciative noise as he chewed, obviously savouring the taste. “But this is perfect.”

A broad smile formed on Sana’s lips and she reached for her own piece of pizza. She didn’t need to pick any of the toppings off this time and she appreciated Isak’s forward thinking on her behalf. He’d been the one to treat them both this time. After the first time Isak had brought a meat feast pizza to one of their study sessions and Sana had politely declined rather than sitting and picking her way through it, he had been sure not to make that mistake again.

“How come you got those toppings if you don’t like them?” Sana asked after swallowing her first bite.

“I knew you liked them?” Isak said, a quizzical look on his face.

“Oh,” Sana blinked, a little dumbfounded. This boy, her biology partner, no her friend, had put more thought into this pizza than she remembered anyone else doing. She’d made herself so agreeable, the one to always compromise and everyone just went with it. Now not only did Isak accommodate the things she couldn’t eat but he went out of his way to include the things she actually liked, even if he didn’t agree. “Thank you.”

Isak laughed at whatever expression he saw on Sana’s face and gave a light shrug. “Don’t mention it.”

A broad smile formed on Sana’s dark lips and Isak smiled back with a tooth grin once he’d swallowed another bite of his pizza.

Just then footsteps small stampede of footsteps sounded outside the door but they swiftly came to a stop. Elias poked his head around the corner of the door frame and the rest of the balloon squad tried to get a look in too.

“Hey, sis,” Elias said, still standing at the door.

“Hi, what do you want?” She didn’t mean to sound so short with him but she was aware that this was Isak’s first time meeting her brother, but more than that she was aware of Mikael loitering in the hall. Sana wasn’t exactly sure how Isak would react to seeing Even’s former friend but she hated the thought of putting either of them in that position, catching them both so off guard.  Sadly Elias was none the wiser.

“So uh, who’s this? Weird that you have so many friends I’m only now meeting,” Elias said, his eyes narrowing at Isak as if sizing him up.  Why had Sana thought it was a good idea to have their study session at her house? Isak had talked her into it, using the fact he couldn’t study with Even around as an excuse.

Isak stood and walked across the room, extending his hand to Elias. “Isak.”

Elias glanced down to Isak’s hand, the serious and intimating big brother act he was trying to pull breaking as his lips rose into a smile as he grasped Isak’s hand and shook it. “Elias. Nice to meet you, Isak. So how do you young kids know each other?”

Sana rolled her eyes at her brother and they snagged on Yousef standing just inside the door. The rest of the guys were also there but her eyes never caught on them the way they did on Yousef. Every. Damn. Time.

Yousef stood with his hands in his pockets, his eyes darkened by something as his gaze lay trained on her. Her skin prickled beneath the fabric of her clothing. She cocked a slender brow at him and he turned his head, avoiding her eyes. He never did that. That was her thing.

Yousef bit the inside of his cheek. He’d slid his hands into his pockets to hide the fact he’d fisted them after walking in on Sana and this blonde boy sitting, obviously enjoying each other’s company over pizza. He wasn’t angry and had nothing against the – rather familiar - boy at all. No, he wasn’t that much of a dick. Yousef’s fists were curled in frustration, his blunt nails digging at his own palms. Frustration that here he was, once again, outside the interaction. Watching it take place. Feigning only mild interest, just the right amount for someone’s brother’s friend and all the while wishing that it was him. Wishing he was the one that got to sit on the floor, books spread around them, a half empty pizza box nearby as Sana smiled at him. Laughed with him. No need to sneak glances or find excuses to grab a few precious moments here and there. She wouldn’t be his bestfriend’s little sister, she’d be his-

Yousef nipped that train of thought in the bud because it was too dangerous. More than that, it was too painful. Because the reality was she was his bestfriend’s little sister and there was a code. Not that it mattered considering he had no idea what Sana thought of him, if at all. So he’d resign himself to standing at the edge of the room, watching her, appreciating her from afar. And those few glorious moments he stole here and there, moments he could kid himself into thinking maybe she saw him as more, even just as a friend of hers rather than her brother’s, he’d cherish the fuck of out those.

The conversation between Isak and Elias had been white noise in Yousef’s ears and he finally let his eyes drifted back to Sana. He found her staring at him, a look of confusion and something else he wasn’t quite sure of in her eyes. Yousef felt like cursing himself. It wasn’t her fault that he was too chicken shit to own up to how he felt about her. Wasn’t her fault that he was weighed down with unspoken words and the frustration that they were bound to his tongue, probably never to be spoken.

Yousef softened his expression, a subtle smile just for her forming on his lips. She returned it and something in his chest cracked, easing the tightness he’d felt there since he’d walked in.

Maybe she did feel it. Maybe there was more.

anonymous asked:

I'm NOT the person who asked for that reader insert with the rival band, but I thought the way you wrote it is downright amazing. You are a really good writer, I wish I could be half as good as you. That being said, could I suggest you a sequel to that imagine? Like after awhile 2D reaches out to the other singer to hangout and they just spend the whole time spouting insults at each other and banging? Sorry this was so long haha. Pls don't ever stop writing c: <3

This has taken 2 months (or more?) of blood, sweat, and tears. Literal tears of frustration when I couldn’t find the words to write what I wanted to say, and also a bit of sweat because sometimes it was really hot in my room. And blood, cos I had a few nosebleeds.

On a more serious note, with this one I really wanted to show that the mood has changed from the first one. The first time around, both the reader and 2D were literally only looking for a hook up. This time however, there’s feeling from the start. There’s the stirrings of excitement and feelings and companionship that’s potentially dangerous for two high-profile people. I tried my hardest to convey that while 2D wants to go ahead with everything, the reader is trying to cut ties to avoid a painful situation. The reader knows that if she stays, she’ll fall in love with 2D, and likewise 2D with her. She wants it to happen, but she just can’t let it.

Do I put too much thought and weight into my writing? Probably. Is that why it took me so long to write? Yes. Am I going to stop doing it? No. 

Anyway, as (heavily) requested, here’s a sequel to the Rival Bands imagine (It was originally on Tumblr but I can’t find it so if anyone finds it can you send me the link to it. But for now, AO3 will have to do)

Also this shit show is twice as long as the first one. Wow!

It’s also here on AO3 under the name ‘If You’re Lucky’


Your teeth snag your lip, and you glance up and down the bar, trying not to appear as bored as you feel. The man beside you has almost ceased to exist, fading into a dull cloud of monotonous words and heady aftershave.

The club is cramped and densely packed with people. The crowd moves in unison, the lights swinging and making studded noses and lips and eyebrows glitter, highlighting the insane heads of multicoloured hair as they twist and turn across the room. Somewhere on the other side of the room, an electric guitar screeches, the crowd screaming back, and songs meld into each other in a crescendo of humming bass, heavy drums and almost shouted lyrics.

Punk is the order of the night, anarchy the prime special. This kind of club is the kind you’d be recognised at, if there were indeed anything about you to recognise. You blend in perfectly, all dark clothes and studded shoulders and heavy boots.

You won’t get recognised. Which is exactly why you’re here.

For escape.

The man moves a little closer, his mouth by your ear. There’s a row of three little silver studs in his eyebrow, and you stare at them out of the corner of your eye as he whispers something nonsensical but undoubtedly sexual in your ear, his hand creeping to encircle your wrist.

You pull away then, angling your body toward him, head on, and whipping your hand away. He looks mildly surprised, his studded eyebrow raised.

“You ok?”

“I’m not interested,” you tell him, and then, as an afterthought, add, “sorry,”

Keep reading

Nova vs Chapter 18: This is how we do it

Hello everyone, Mr.E here and back! Thank you for everyone who likes, comments and reblogs this story. it means a lot to me

i want to apologize to those who were waiting for this. I took a month off because in all these nearly 2 years of writing (holy snap that’s next month) and the random bouts were i didn’t post, I never actually took a break. but I’m back, refreshed and ready to keep stories for you amazing people.

Here it is, the finale of the current arc thought of by my good friend @marionette-j2x who was kind enough to let me borrow her ocs *Jelina, Mary and Berry with their lord Kim* and let me write out the arc idea she came up with and a special @thefandombytes who helped me with some translations. thanks buddy, I greatly appreciate it! 

This is not the story finale so no worries, there’s still some more nova on the way. Well I am going to simply let the show get on the road cuz I know a few of you waited a long time for this so here we go.

also here’s the link to the ff page in case you want read this from the beginning or stumble upon this randomly https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11773524/1/Nova-Butterfly-vs-the-Forces-of-Adolescence

Notification Squad 

@hipster-rapunzel @isolated-frequencies @artgirllullaby 

Keep reading

demoncowedgar  asked:

Can I request some tooth-achingly sweet fluff, Jeremwood style? Mood's decided to do a 180 while I'm trying to sleep so to keep the sad thoughts away I thought I'd come hide out here.

It’s, uh, kind of short and not great because I figured it’d be better sooner rather than later, but I do hope you feel better (fuck off sad thoughts go away) and I hope this maybe helps in some small way. (Jeremwood, FAHC AU). 

Keep reading

orevet  asked:

If you haven't already gotten a ton of requests for it, can you write more for the AU where the Skywalkers are part eldritch abomination? I know you don't really write about Kylo Ren, but I'm morbidly curious to see this interpretation of him and Rey, Finn, and Poe's interactions with him.

hahaha yes I love this:

  • you need a teacher, it says, and it takes all of Rey’s strength not to vomit then and there, because she has never seen anything more awful-beautiful in her entire life. It is – it is like the desert in the high heat of mid-day, when the air shimmers and wafts and thickens, somehow, and that thing on the horizon could be a parade of krayt dragons, or an oasis, or an oncoming sandstorm. It itches at her eyes, and inside her mind things yammer-clammer, say yes you will obey and her spine skitters and this thing, this thing pretending to be a boy, it thinks she is so power-hungry and lonely that she will take its hand. It thinks she is so blind that she thinks that it offers a hand and not a claw-wing-diamond-blood-star-appendage. It is beautiful, yes, but Rey has seen beauty in fires and the ocean and she knows that both will swallow you up, if you let them. Rey shows her teeth. She is human and whole and unharmed, and she does not slam her Force-eyes shut but opens them wide, wide, wide, until the thing cannot hide from her. Until it is laid bare before her. And she sees what Kylo Ren truly is, and the you will obey becomes what are you doing and she snarls, “I see you,” and she slams forwards, unafraid and bright-burning. 
  • You don’t have to tell Finn that Kylo Ren is a monster: he knows that all too well. He knows that when Kylo Ren gives the order – the offhand order! – to slaughter the villagers. He knows that even before then: when he hears tales of what happens to Stormtroopers when they fail in their duty. He knows. But it is still a heart-stopper of a shock when Kylo Ren turns and looks at him and Finn doesn’t see a humanoid figure in a mask but a great ripped blackness, like someone has reached into the skin of reality and torn it aside, revealing the darkness beyond, spangling with things that could be stars, but are more likely to be eyes. He sees – wings, perhaps, or claws, or fire. Teeth, maybe. Perhaps those are teeth. Perhaps those are screaming faces. He closes his eyes, sweat congealing on the inside of his helmet, his heart shuddering against his ribs and –
    • the moment is gone. Kylo Ren is gone. When Finn faces him again, there is no escaping it: Kylo Ren snarls, and his shadow ripples and changes behind him, and his lightsabre is one moment seperate from him and the next a tooth in a forest of identical teeth; the next it is a feather in a shining blood-drenched wing. Finn is reminded of a story baby troopers are told, of a trooper who ventured out to save her captain from a strange and terrible enemy, and this enemy bid her cling to her captain no matter what form he might take; and so she hung on as he became a krayt dragon and a terranterror and the smallest atom and a kyber crystal too hot to grasp. And she held on as her skin blackened and peeled away, and no matter what form he was changed to she clung on, and so in the end she was victorious. There was a motto in there somewhere: about sticking with your unit. Something like that. The point is: Finn does not let go and does not stop fighting, because Kylo Ren may be a monster but there are worse things in the galaxy than him (namely, abandoning Rey to his tender mercies. Finn would die before he did that. He almost does.)
  • Poe has not looked General Organa in the face since he returned from captivity. He looks at her feet, or the space just over her left shoulder. Once, he eyed her face greedily, keen to catch some momentary flicker of approval. After one meeting, she calls him over. They are alone. They have not been alone since before – 
    • Poe’s throat closes up. He tries very hard not to shut his eyes against the white-gold glare blazing from Leia’s skin.

      “You see it,” she says. “You see me.”

      “I – I saw him,” Poe says. He stares at the floor. He feels her presence gnawing at the edge of his mind. “I saw him, he made me see him, he thought it would burn my eyes out, he –”

      “It didn’t, did it?”


      “I don’t blame you for not wanting to look at me,” says Leia, gently. “I just want you to know that we’re not the same. Not at all.”

      yes you are Poe wants to say. They are: both too bright to bear, or a hungering darkness, alternating between the two; both are children of the Force, as inhuman as the stars.

      “Poe,” says Leia. “I am sorry for what happened to you. Truly.”

      And it is this, perhaps, that convinces him; for even as shadows dance and twist over his feet (cast by her strange luminous skin) her voice is the same. Durasteel hard, and gentling, and he lifts his eyes. 

      She is beautiful. She is endless. But he blinks, and the light vanishes, and she is Leia Organa once more. 
  • Hux wears sunglasses around Kylo Ren. He looks absurd, but the last thing he wants is for Snoke’s pet monster to burn out his corneas in some petty tantrum. They lose twenty good men that way every time the scavenger girl’s name is mentioned. 
I Think I Wanna Marry You (Jikook)

Wow it’s been forever hasn’t it? Well the fluff master is back and damn, I don’t even know how this happened but it did. Get ready for tooth-rotting sappiness. Inspired by Jungkook deciding Jimin’s couch was more comfortable then his bed in the most recent Bon Voyage. Please enjoy!

“I wanna marry you.” Jimin doesn’t register Jeongguk’s words at first. He hums in agreement, too engrossed in his book. The nudge of Jeongguk’s head brings him back to reality and Jimin’s head snaps up. He looks at Jeongguk with wide, disbelieving eyes.

“Wait, what?”  

“I think I wanna marry you.” Jeongguk speaks in a nonchalant tone, as if he’s commenting on the weather. His hair’s skewed to one side, a product of sleep, and he’s got one foot hanging off the edge of the couch. An arm holds his head up as he stares backwards, up at Jimin. Jimin peers down over him, lowering his book down.

I think you’re still half asleep. Go back to bed Jeongguk-ah,” Jimin giggles as he folds a bookmark into his book. He sets it down behind him on the couch and reaches over Jeongguk’s form to pull his blanket back up to his shoulders. Jeongguk curls his fingers around Jimin’s wrist as he sit’s back.

“I’m serious Jiminie.” Jeongguk turns over and sits up, bringing Jimin’s wrist to his mouth. Shivers run throughout Jimin’s body as Jeongguk’s lips touch his skin. Jimin just stares into Jeongguk’s dark eyes. He’s so distracted he forgets to remind Jeongguk who’s the older one here. Finally, his lips quirk up into a sad smile as he pulls Jeongguk closer to him, Jeongguk still hanging on to Jimin’s wrist.

“Even if we wanted to Gguk-ah, we can’t…” Jimin trails off and Jeongguk rolls his eyes. He sticks his feet over Jimin’s lap and smushes his face against Jimin’s shoulder.

“I don’t mean now…well, actually, it is legal here….” Jimin slaps Jeongguk’s shoulder lightly.

“Jeon Jeongguk my mother would kill me if I came back married and she didn’t even get to witness it.” There’s a few seconds of silence, Jimin’s hand finding it’s way into Jeongguk’s hair, before he’s suddenly shaking with laughter. Jeongguk lifts his head up to watch, mesmerized by the shapes of Jimin’s eyes, lips, cheeks…

“Do you even know how beautiful you are when you laugh?” Jimin slaps Jeongguk in the chest and laughs harder.

“Jeongguk-ah! I can’t believe how calmly we’re talking about marriage, like we’re talking about what to have for dinner. You didn’t even ask me properly.” Jimin’s giggles slow as he pouts and points an accusing finger at Jeongguk. Jeongguk ignores Jimin in favor of pulling on his wrist again. He examines each of Jimin’s tiny fingers, the mood changing from humorous to serious. Until-

“I’m gonna marry you.” Jeongguk speaks quietly, with the same determined look on his face as he had when he spoke the first time. Jimin pulls his hand back and crosses his arms over his chest, this pout even more pronounced than the last one.

“You. Should. Ask.” Jimin forces his gaze away from Jeongguk, looking out across the room. He’s currently trying to ignore his heart pounding away in his chest. Marriage was only something he had dreamed about, far off in the distance. It didn’t seem like a reality to him, and yet here Jeongguk was, speaking about it seriously. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s one am, or that they’re away from home, or that, for the first time in a long time they didn’t feel the weight of their career pressing down so heavily on them, but Jimin can see it. He can see himself and Jeongguk, as a proper family. He wants it. He wants it so badly his chest aches and his hands tremble, stopped only by Jeongguk wrapping himself around Jimin once more.  

“Jimin,” He whispered in Jimin’s ear. Jimin’s heart stopped, then thudded back to life. “I don’t know how. I don’t know when, or where, but I want to marry you. Will you please do me the honor?” Jimin wraps his arms around Jeongguk and shudders against him. Jeongguk holds Jimin tightly, willing him silently to say yes.  

“You don’t even have a ring you brat,” Jimin whispers, but he whispers through tears. “But yes. Yes I will do you the honor of marrying your sorry ass you son of a-” Jimin is, of course, cut off by Jeongguk’s lips on his, and they stay that way for a long time. Jimin doesn’t know when they break apart, or when they lay back down, now tangled together on the already small couch. Every once in a while Jeongguk presses a light kiss into Jimin’s neck and Jimin grips Jeongguk’s bicep tighter.  

Pulling back, Jeongguk stares at Jimin until he opens his eyes again. When Jimin does he’s greeted with a wide bunny smile and a few tears of Jeongguk’s own. He reaches up to brush them away without a second thought.  

“Don’t worry hyung. I’m your secret Santa. You’ll get your ring, if you can even find a spot for it, that is.” Jimin snorts and pulls Jeongguk back to him.  

“I think I can make some room, just for you Gguk-ah.”

Domestic Life: Part 4 [She's Mine Now: Part 2]

[The last half was deleted while I was working on it :( So I hope it still works. Not a fluff piece.] Warnings: Profanity, injury, torture, abusive ex, It is Gotham after all.

Your laying on a cold metal bench in what looks like a locked examination room.

Pain shoots through your entire body jolting you into consciousness. You’ve been shot straight through your side. But you remember that. What you don’t remember is…


You screeched, quickly turning into whimpers of pain coming from all over. You were in bad shape. Yeah, you remember getting shot, but doing a once over on yourself now you realize you’ve most likely had the shit beaten out of you. From what you could tell you’ve now got 3 cracked ribs, a fractured wrist, and that God Damn knee again! You look down only to see your fucked up left knee is horribly misplaced. The bruises around your neck and eye doesn’t even register.

“What in the fuck have you gotten yourself into this time (y/n)…”

You trail off trying your hardest to not succumb to the pain again when strange yet familiar humming wafting under the locked door as the sound of heavy footfalls approach.

“Twas Brillig, And the slithy toves, Did gyre and gimble…..”

The humming fades in and out. The strange melody finally pierces the veil the pain has pulled over you. It was a simple melody from your abusive ex’s favorite move… Alice in Wonderland. ‘Uuughmygod how is he not dead?!?!’ This mother fucker must have really gone off the deep end to pull a stunt like this while you’re with Mister J.

You hear the jingling of keys as the melody continues.

“ All mimsy were the borogoves, And the mome raths outgrabe.”

As the last of the melody was sung the door flings itself open and the figure of a tall slender man in what looked like a cheap knock off of Mister J’s fine purple suits steps in.

“Well hello there my dear.”

The man shrilled at you. Dear lord how you hated him.

“ Yeah, yeah, yeah hello Arther. So you managed to climb out of that hell hole we left you in at Arkham did ya?” You nearly spit at him.

“Hmmm… oh that’s right my dear (y/n), you left so quickly with that Joker you never even considered how I may have faired did you?” His yellowed eyes now throwing daggers at you.

[ Some back story.]

Many years ago you were a bright and talented Vet assistant dating a tall and brilliant therapist named Arther Cunningham. You two went relatively well together despite the mental games Arther liked to plague you with. But you were always a push over back then, never thinking you could find, or even deserved better. That is until you visited Arther at work one day when he was volunteering at the infamous Arkham Asylum.

You never much cared for the place. Seemed more like a zoo then a mental hospital to you, but then again as Arther would have said, ‘What did you know? You were just a pretty face with a fancy title after all.’ While visiting him you two got in a fight over God only knows. Things got heated and out of hand as he slammed you through his office door onto the glass of an inmates cell. You vividly remember the first time you heard J’s gravelly low and most of all deadly voice pierce through you as he addressed your assailant.

“Now now Now Doc.” He hissed from the dark corner of the cell.

“ That’s no way to treat a sweet young lady like…” He paused as he approached the glass gazing deep into your (e/c) eyes that were crying for help.

“What is your name Kitten?” He had purred at you.


You gasped as Arther tightened his grip around your neck cutting off what little air you could get. The Joker’s eyes moved from yours to Arther’s.

“You there, doc. You better put my new Kitten down before you regret it.”

The Joker had spit the words, chuckling knowingly at Arther revealing his silver toothed grin which made him look even deadlier then he already seemed.

“And what the fuck are you gonna do about it Clown?” Arther laughed at the Joker has he cut off your air completely, lifting you up the glass of the cell wall.

When all of the sudden a loud *BOOM* knocked Arther to the floor releasing his grip on your throat as the outer wall of his office explodes and what resembled a strike team blew in. They immediately started working on the door of J’s cell. Busting it open in under a minute. The Joker strode out of his cell straight to you lowering his hand as an offer of help. You had heard the stories, hell you lived in Gotham right? He should have scared the shit out of you, but he didn’t. He came to your defense. And now he was helping you get away from that abusive ass hole. You had looked up at him, his hand out stretched, white garments hanging open revealing his many intricate and quite frankly gorgeous tattoos which decorated his lean and muscular chest. His green hair had been a mess not the neat slicked back style you came to know. He looked positively deadly, bare feet and all.

“You comin’ baby doll”

He called still waiting for you to catch your breath. Without anymore hesitation and not a single word you grabbed his hand and headed out the newly formed exit to Arkham.

Arther called out after you calling you a bitch and a whore. Putting your hand into that of a man’s you later came to know as Frost. The Joker nearly skipped back through the debris to where Arther had been trapped by a piece of wall. With a swift kick to his temple the Joker spat in Arther’s now bleeding face and growled

“She’s MINE now.”

He turned back wrapping your arm in his as he gave the order to ‘tourch it’. While you and the Joker boarded the waiting copter, one of his men finished spreading accelerate on the debris and set it alight. With a sigh of relief you truly had believed that was the last time you would see Arther. ]

“Nope. Not at all.” You chirped.

“I was busy getting to know my new fella.”

You would have found this hilarious if you hadn’t been in so much pain.

“So why in the HELL am I here Arther.” Your eyes narrowed as the thin man starts to make his was around the room.

“Well you see my dear. You left me in a tight spot all those years ago now didn’t you.” He stops a few feet away from you looking you up and down.

“Ha I’m frankly amazed your still so spray with all those injuries. You would have swooned long before this back then.”

He cackles stalking around the room. He seriously looked like an extremely cheap rip off of Mister J. Too funny.

“Yeah I’ve grown a lot since that little push over you knew.” You spat as pain shot through your ribs.

“Now, now, let’s keep our heads about us no?“

His grin exposed his teeth now a cracked mirror of what they use to be. This whole thing was just to damn funny. Strange laughter erupts and if you hadn’t felt it bubbling up from your bruised and bloodied lungs you would have sworn it was J laughing.

Arther stares, you laughing looking half mad.

“Oh my dear you’re just as crazed as that Clown now aren’t you?” He chuckled.

‘Maybe I’ve been spending to much time with J. I’m starting to sound like him.’ The thought was just a crack up to you. You bust out with a second wave of manic laughter sending blood spurting from your mouth.

“hahaha…. he’s going to kill you…. I hope you know that…. hahaha” You choked out, with new waves of pain flowing with every breath. Arther’s eyes narrow.

“Your Clown isn’t gonna want the used up mess I’m gonna send him back when I’m done with you. (y/n)”

The venom dripped from every word. Your laughing fit had left you light headed and in pain. You watch as Arther reaches the far side of the room and hear the sound of metal surgical tools hitting the table in the corner were he now stood.

“Your that… that… CLOWNS precious ‘Kitten’ now aren’t you?”

His eyes blazed as he picks up a sharp scalpel and stalks towards you, the sharp implement glinting in your already hazy eyes. He begins to push on your already broken body, pressing you completely down on the bench you have been laying on.

“Well then, let’s make sure you NEVER! forget what you are my dear.”

Your arm cracks as he puts his full weight onto your broken bones to steady you as he starts to carve into the delicate skin on your collarbone. You scream in agony as your vision fades. Your mind races. ‘Fuck, I think I’m screwed. I’m sorry J.’ And with that last thought you fall unconscious. Completely unaware of the horrors that are being done to your limp, lifeless body….

- To Be continued -

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