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deathbymas0chist · 1 year

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`୭̥*ೃ 𝐽𝑎𝑑𝑒𝐿𝑒𝑒𝑐ℎ..!! +༉‧₊˚𝐹𝑙𝑜𝑦𝑑 𝐿𝑒𝑒𝑐ℎ..!!

༒ A/N : this is a continuation of this post here ft. Azul! I would recommend reading it first since it does give context about this, and it is mentioned a lot abt what happened previously! I have also felt really burnt out these past few months so I apologize for the long unannounced hiatus I took, but I feel more motivated now and I’ll try to get some more requests done!

༒Word count: 4.7k

༒ Summary: After getting a offer for working at Monstro Lounge’s VIP section by Jade, you agreed, thinking you were just going to be working as a regular waiter, but you were mistaken.

༒Content warning: afab! Reader , mean dom! Jade and Floyd , heavy dubcon , porn with plot , monsterfucking (Jade and Floyd’s mer form) , throat fucking , slight (?) asphyxiation , begging , overstimulation , edging , primal play , cum play , cunninglingus , exhibitionism , degradation , objectification , biting , double penetration , name calling (slut, whore, ext. ) , power play , size kink , dumbification , hair pulling , mind breaking , being threatened , people paying to watch you get fucked , reader being extra broke , this warning list is longer then my will to live.

Taglist : @otaku-explosion @stygianoir

Money has gotten especially right now since the last time you visited the Monstro Lounge. Grim had been complaining about the lack of quality from the cheap tuna you could manage to buy with the little money you had left, and you were getting sick of hearing his whines. You didn’t want to go back to work there when you had to entertain people by putting your body on display and losing your dignity in the process, but you were left with no choice but to go back. It took a toll on you the first time when you had just gone through what Azul did, all with the fake promise of gaining something to help you with your life, only for it all to be a lie from the very beginning. But after reading through his contract many times, and studying it over and over again, searching for any loopholes or inconsistencies, you found it to be airtight, with everything stated clearly and no false promises. It was with a heavy heart that you signed away your spirit, mind, and body over to them.

Coming back to the Monstro Lounge exactly one week later was the most nerve-racking decision you have ever made in your entire life. You contemplated just turning around and running back many times on your way to the place, but your legs just kept going as if you were on autopilot, bringing you in front of the watery gates of hell with every step closer. Taking a deep breath as you tried to calm your racing heart and prepare yourself for what was behind the door, you mustered up all your courage and what very little dignity you had left, you brought your shaky hands up to the door and opened them.

Your knees felt like jelly as you walked into the establishment. The lounge was filled with people, with servers rushing to take orders and the loud chattering of guests’ was making your senses more heightened as you felt overwhelmed by the number of people. All the doubts immediately rushed to your head, and you were already just about done being here only after about thirty seconds of entering. Turning back around, fully ready to run out the doors and never show your face around campus, you felt the weight of someone's hand on your shoulder, stopping you. You held your breath as the person spoke from behind you.

“Leaving so soon? That’s not a very good way of starting your first day on the job.” The sound of Jade’s smooth voice sent a shiver down your spine as you turned back, to meet his piercing heterochrome eyes. Your eyes immediately shot down, unable to meet his as you chose to focus on one of the buttons of his uniform instead. Exhaling a breath you didn’t know you were holding and swallowing the lump in your throat before trying to muster up a response to give to him.

“I-I’m sorry… It’s just– I’m just–” You were already fumbling over your words in front of him. You felt vulnerable in front of him. It was like you were already completely bare even though you were in your normal attire.

“No need for excuses. I’m sure Azul wouldn’t mind If the star of the show tonight just didn’t show up and made him lose thousands of thaumarks.” He interrupted with a slight tease to his tone and a sly smirk on his lips. Jade could read you like an open book. He knew how hesitant you were to come here. He was reveling in the fact he could feel the fear and uneasiness coming from you. Both he and Floyd always loved the feeling of a chase, the adrenaline rush, the blood pumping, the excitement, and he was feeling it all. He wanted to completely devour you right now, but he knew he had to wait just a little bit longer, as much as he didn’t like to play with his food. “But, if you don’t mind, I think we should get going, we wouldn’t want you to be late to your actual first day on the job now, wouldn’t we?”

You could only nod in response, not wanting to stumble on your words further. But as you trailed behind him, through the long hallways, to the back of the lounge, and up a flight of stairs, you remembered his words as the bitter taste in your mouth came back “late to your actual first day on the job” rang throughout your mind. The thought of selling your body, only to get cheated came back and suddenly it was like there was an anchor on your ankle slowly weighing you down. Before you could open your mouth to say something, anything to have one last chance of leaving, Jade stopped in front of a door.

“We’ve arrived.” He said, before turning the handle to the door and holding it open for you to enter. Your heart was pounding through your chest when you walked in and saw that Azul was already there.

Azul greeted you with a smug smile “Welcome to your first official day on the job, now that you’re finally here, I do hope you won’t be backing out now especially since our clients are eagerly awaiting you.” He said, handing you the same bottle of liquid he gave you last time. You hesitantly took the vial from his hands and downed it without question. He watched you with satisfaction as you finished it all, before continuing to speak. “I think you already know what to expect from last time, thanks to your employee training session, but before we start, any questions?”

You shook your head no, every question you had was already cleared up in the contract and you knew Azul wouldn’t possibly try and cheat you for a second time… at least, you hoped he wouldn’t. But you soon realized the absence of Jade, who had seemed to disappear the second you started to talk to Azul.

“Never mind I do have a question, where’s Jade?” His disappearance was off-putting, he had been quiet and reserved to himself the whole time as usual, but the whole time you couldn’t shake the vibe of something more menacing coming from him. Jade was always the one to terrify you more, because of the fact he kept all of his thoughts to himself you never knew what he was planning. Floyd was always the wild one, and you’d expect him to do something crazy, but Jade… He would plan everything down to the last detail.

“Oh he’s getting prepaid along with Floyd, they're both gonna be with you tonight.” He replied casually.

“Wait… what are they going to do to me?” The contract never said what they were going to do tonight explicitly, it just said a list of things they could do to your body.

“That's not for me or them to decide. It's what the audience wants, and that’s what they’ll get.”

“Oh… well, I guess those are the only questions I have..” You trailed off, still nervous, and slightly confused as to what he meant by the audience getting to pick what they want, but you decided to not question it, hoping it’ll be normal.

“Good, now let's get this show started, shall we?” He then turned around, motioning for you to follow him as he led you up another short set of stairs. You finally arrived where you were before as you stared down at the clear water down near your feet. Taking off your shoes, you tried to take deep breaths in to calm your nerves down one more time. On your third final breath out, you felt two strong hands on your back, pushing you into the water once again.

As you sank deep into the water you saw Azul through the crystalline waters waving at you, with a malicious smile before walking away. God, you felt as if you were fresh blood in shark-infested waters- well in this case eel infested waters. Trying to calm your hammering heart from your senses being in overdrive due to the surprise Azul had just given you, you closed your eyes and tried to get used to the cold water surrounding you. You didn’t want to open your eyes, too ashamed of yourself for putting yourself in this situation again. The cheers from the audience’s excitement from seeing you were loud. The blood pumping to your ears and the sound of them in the back was making you a bit light-headed.

Your moment of being alone didn’t last long though, as you felt something slippery start to trail up from your ankles to further up your legs, prying them apart. Your heart nearly leaped out of your chest when you opened your eyes to see Jade’s piercing gaze looking back up at you through your thighs. He only smirked at you before pulling down your skirt and panties in one swift motion. Embarrassed, you yelped and kicked, as you desperately tried to cover your pussy from the prying eyes of the people in the audience, and Jade as well. But before your arms could shield anything from the people, another pair of strong slippery hands grabbed your forearms from behind you, pulling your arms behind your back. You knew exactly who it was when a dark laugh came from behind you. You felt a shiver of fear shoot up your spine, as your blood almost went cold.

“Ahh, shrimpy~! You're finally here! Did you miss me? It was sooo boring here all alone without you!” Floyd said, leaning over your shoulder to whisper in your ear. He sounded excited to see you, but you let out a scream of terror. He let go of your forearms, letting his hands wander up into your shirt, feeling your body up and down while groping at your breasts. After getting tired of your restricting clothes, he decided to rip the uniform that you had been wearing off you. You yelped from the sudden aggressive act, making him let out a hum of satisfaction.

But while they were having their way with your body, you saw Azul walk out and stand in front of the tank, and with a loud voice, he announced “The voting will now begin! With two different rounds, please take out your phones and choose what you want to see happen to her, and remember, the one with the most money wins!” It didn’t take long for the votes to tally up, almost less than a minute later Azul announced what won the poll. “And now, with six thousand four hundred dollars on seeing the prefect getting face fucked while being devoured from the inside out! Please enjoy the show and wait for the next round to commence soon!” And with that, he walked off again, leaving the audience to await eagerly.

Whilst you had been distracted by what Azul had been saying, Floyd took the chance to move to where he had to be, quickly shifting himself in front of you and grabbing hold of a fistful of your hair to line your face up with the tip of his dick. The unexpected quickness of his movements caught you off guard, making you open your mouth to let out a gasp of surprise, allowing Floyd to shove his cock in your mouth. With a soft growl he gave you a warning, “If you bite, I'll bite back, hard.” And with that, he immediately started a fast rhythm of thrusts into your mouth. You didn’t have a choice but to go along with Floyd’s erratic movements. The feeling of his sharp claws holding on tight to the back of your head, bobbing it up and down as he continued to thrust was so dizzying. He was using your mouth as his fleshlight, and it was…exhilarating in a way?

It was a struggle to breathe, but you tried as hard as you could to inhale through your nose. Floyd’s loud grunts were heard above you as he kept thrusting in and out of you, His head was thrown back and his mouth was open wide enough to see his sharp teeth. You remembered his threat from before, you knew he wouldn’t be nice enough to spare you, so you tried as delicately as you could to hide your teeth through his vigorous movements. You almost forgot about the twin that was underneath you, due to the way you'd even breathe properly, and much less think.

Jade decided to make his presence known, as you felt a sharp bite on your inner thighs, dangerously close to your aching core. His teeth were sharp, sharp enough to break your skin and let out your blood, but he chose to spare you, for now at least. You had almost forgotten about how sharp his teeth were, due to the fact he always managed to keep them hidden. You let out a muffled cry of pain while Jade had a faux innocent smile on his face. “My, you’re not hurt already, are you? Humans are such delicate creatures…I wonder what it takes to fully break them..” His words dripped with condescension. You almost didn’t catch that last line, but he had muttered loud enough for you to hear. You almost wish you didn’t hear it though, knowing he’d do whatever it takes to find out the answer to that question.

And just like that, it was like something changed in Jade as he mercilessly plunged three of his long, thick fingers inside you like it was nothing. His pupils started to dilate once you started to scream, and when he saw how well your tight cunt was taking your fingers so well? He lost his composure. The feeling of your tight walls stretching around his fingers was making him lose his mind. His slick, webbed fingers started to plunge deep inside you, as he brought his mouth closer to your aching clit. His tongue swirled around your clit, experimentally flicking it on occasion to see if it would get a reaction out of you, and to his surprise, it did. You started to pant for breath, letting out little whines as you started to squirm for more. He was intrigued, to say the least. Could such a small bundle of nerves reduce you to this? You were rutting your core into him, desperate to get more of the feeling of pleasure. But, he wanted to find out another thing, if you were so sensitive to his light touches, what would happen if he were more..rough?

He experimentally grazed the edge of his sharp teeth against your clit, looking up at you through lidded eyes, carefully watching your expressions. Your face flashed with discomfort and anxiousness, as your thighs started to tremble around him. He wondered if such a small graze of his teeth could make you quiver with fear, how would you react to a more… merciless approach? He pulled his hand and mouth away from you abruptly, causing you to let out more whines at the loss of contact. He watched, amused, before bringing up his hands to your clit, only to roughly pinch it, not choosing to let go until you were writhing under his touch.

You cried out around Floyd from Jade’s grip, The Audience was split between looking at what Jade was doing to your lower half and looking at how utterly fucked out your face had looked from what Floyd was doing to you. His thrusts were so deep into your throat, they could see the outline of his cock. It was evident that he was close to finishing due to how your moans from around him were sending vibrations throughout his body. He quickened his pace, finally stopping abruptly and gripping your hair even tighter. You felt his surprisingly hot load shoot into your mouth, as he looked down at you with a happy look on his face. “Swallow it all, don’t let a single drop go to waste, ‘kay?” It was salty, but it had a surprising sweetness to it in a way, your throat burned when you swallowed, too sore to take anything else. He brought his hands to your jaw and gripped it tightly, forcing you to open your mouth to show him that you took it all. His smile brightened even more, “Now… what do you say after getting a nice meal?” He looked at you expectantly, awaiting your answer. It took you a second to recover, before barely managing to muster a weak “T..Thank you…” Your voice was shot, and your throat had burned even more from even talking, but it made Floyd satisfied.

After Floyd had finished inside of your mouth, jade had pulled away abruptly, causing you to let out a needy whine that you managed to surprise yourself with. His long fingers leaving your hole made you feel empty, so empty. You also missed the feeling of his soft lips suckling on your clit, leaving you throbbing and wanting more of what he was giving you. Before you could even beg for more, Azul came striding back in front of the tank once more.

“And that concludes the first round of the show! Now, may I please begin the next round of voting?” And with that you saw the people pull out their phones once more, choosing whatever sick thing they want to see happen to you next as if you were some sort of object and not an actual person. A minute had passed when Azul finally spoke up again after checking what had gotten the most money on the poll. “Now for the second round, with ten thousand five hundred! you get to see our dear perfect getting double penetrated!” Azul had sounded surprised when he read off how much he had gotten from the votes, but he quickly played it off before wishing the audience a good show before getting away from the tank.

After Azul had left, you turned to look at Jade and Floyd, and from the looks on their faces, they were not happy about having to share. Floyd scowled from next to you, pulling you in front of him by your forearm and away from Jade. “You know how much I don’t like sharing the same prey.” He growled out, baring his teeth at his brother. His hold on your arm was getting tighter by the second, you knew he wasn’t playing around when it came to sharing things.

Jade didn’t look so amused by his brother’s antics, letting out a scoff and rolling his eyes, “It’s not like we have a choice, both you and I had agreed to share just this once, so stop acting like a child throwing a tantrum and stop hogging her to yourself.” Jade said as he went to grab your other arm, moving in front of you. Floyd was about to say something else but Jade cut him off once more “Why don’t we make things interesting? Instead of just hogging them all to yourself, why don't we make this a little competition and see who gets them to scream their name loudest?”

Floyd seemed to like the idea of that, as his grip on your arm had loosened with a cocky smirk appearing on his face. “Fine. Just don’t get upset when I win.” And just like that, it was like another switch was flipped inside their minds as they both manhandled your body. Both their hands were groping everywhere, you didn’t know which hand belonged to who, and to be honest, you couldn’t care less, your mind was already unfocused and hazy, still recovering from what Floyd did.

As they both were groping your body, you felt their thick cocks prodding your entrance. You didn’t know how you could take both of them– or how it would even be possible. Floyd’s dick was much thicker than you thought it would be, you knew that from how your jaw was feeling close to dislocating to accommodate for how thick he was. You haven’t seen Jade’s cock yet, but you knew it would be similar to his brother, I mean, after all, they are twins. That thought made you even more nervous, you prayed to whatever gods were listening that Azul had put something else in that potion to make the pain more bearable because you knew they were going to completely break you.

You felt Jade slowly enter you first, you quickly noticed that he wasn’t as thick as his brother, but he was longer, a lot longer. The stretch wasn’t as painful as you thought it would be with Jade, and you were thankful for that until it was Floyd’s turn to enter you. He was bullying you with how mercilessly he shoved himself inside of you. Once they were both insides of you, they both let out a groan of satisfaction. Jade let out a hiss, while Floyd threw his head back once more, the feeling of your tight walls along with how they both were feeling each other inside you was too much for them, it was something that made them feel a way they had never felt before. You, Horsley, cried out Floyd’s name loudly once he managed to fit himself inside you.

From behind you, Floyd’s smirk grew, causing jade to become more irritated, making his scowl increase as he pulled out his cock, leaving only his tip, before slamming back into you without mercy. This caused you to immediately moan out Jade’s name louder causing the competition to finally begin. Both of their movements were in sync, as soon as one pulled out, the other would slam back in. You felt your mind quickly go blank, after a few thrusts from both of them, you felt your legs start to tremble uncontrollably, causing the only noises to come out of you to be barely comprehensible slurs of their names and a mixture of whines and babbles. You felt your senses being in hyperdrive as you clenched hard around their cocks, coating them with your cum. Your mind was completely gone and they had only just started their game.

The feeling of you cumming around them was addicting. The way you gripped them like a vice as your warm cream flooded them. They both could have come just from you cumming around them, but with their strength and stamina, they chose to hold themselves back, waiting to fill you up at the perfect moment. You were still riding out the feeling of your first orgasm when you felt a sharp pain shoot through your neck, the feeling of sharp teeth sinking into your skin once more made you let out a shriek of pain and surprise. You Felt Floyd’s smile against your skin as you hissed out of pain. You felt a little bit of your warm blood flowing out and into his mouth as he started sucking on the spot making you let out soft moans of his name. He then started to slide his hands down your body. One of his hands found one of your nipples, taking it as he started pinching and pulling. His other hand had trailed down further, this time finding your clit, drawing fast tight little circles on it, only adding to the painful pleasure you were feeling. Overwhelmed by the feeling, your arm had reached behind you, grabbing his hair and pulling it, trying to get him off you, or to make him gentler, but your attempts were futile as he started to moan against your skin from how you were making him feel from the pain.

Whilst Floyd had been sucking on your neck and busing himself with pinching and rubbing you, Jade had also started to play with your body too. He started to lightly graze his hands over your sensitive thighs, causing a trail of goosebumps to appear on your skin as you felt hyper-aware of his hands. He brought one hand up your thigh, then slowly started to reach behind you, grabbing a handful of your plush ass, and starting to grope it. As he did that, he brought his mouth closer to the soft, plush skin of your breasts, taking the other nipple his brother wasn’t playing with into his mouth. He started to lick and suck meanly, occasionally grazing his teeth over your nipple, like how he did with your clit. The feeling of Jade sucking on your sensitive nipples, along with Floyd’s fingers toying with your sensitive clit, was enough to feel like there were shocks spreading all through your nerves.

The view of you like this was worth every penny the people in the crowd had spent to see you like this. Even Azul watching the show in the back was feeling a little bit upset at the fact he’s not the one having his way with you like how the twins were using you. Everyone in that audience was seething in some sort of jealousy in some way deep down, wishing they were the ones making you feel the way you were feeling now, but no one could ever rival the feeling of having both Jade and Floyd Leech stretch and stuff you full with both their thick cocks.

Their thrusts had gotten more erratic, and the extra added stimulation on the other parts of your body was bringing you close to another orgasm, and you could tell that both of them were going to reach their peaks soon too. Your mind was gone once again, you were left with no thoughts, only left with the numb dull between your shaking legs and the nerves in your body going haywire. But you had been brought back out of your haze-induced mind by Floyd who had ceased playing with your nipple to grab you by your jaw once more, turning your face to look him dead in the eyes. “How about we settle this little competition now prefect, tell me, who fucks you better?” He demanded your answer

You didn’t have an answer for him. How could you? You were being fucked dumb with nothing on your mind, and they both were giving you an equal amount of attention to your body and they were fucking you at a steady rhythm. It also didn't help when you were on the brink of an orgasm and they weren’t letting up their thrusts to even give you a millisecond to breathe, much less think. You struggled to answer, only letting out broken moans and cries for them to keep going, and to let you release again, only to be cut off by a particularly rough thrust from both of them. They both thrust into you at the same time, reaching deep inside of you, flooding your hole with their cum. You came along with them, clenching around them even more and milking them for all they were worth.

You hadn’t fully recovered from the aftershocks of your orgasm when Jade had grabbed you by your jaw, now forcing you to look at him instead of Floyd. “I think we both deserve an answer to this, do tell, who fucked you better? You have to choose. If you ‘Don’t know’ then I can assure you, all of the extra tips you received will be going to Floyd and I instead.” You didn’t have any chances of escape, you were stuck in between both of them and you were pretty sure if you choose one over the other, it would be a bloodbath, either between you or themselves, or both.

“I choose…” And just like that, you felt the exhaustion take over you. You didn’t realize the adrenaline had worn off, making you more tired than you thought you were. You were unable to do anything but succumb to the feeling of drowsiness taking over you, letting your heavy eyes close and feeling your stiff body become more laxed. Maybe after another round of fucking you could decide, but for now, you’ll rest, feeling tired and content nestled between them.

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shatcey · 22 days

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The villains wanna tease little robin (Jude/Ellis)

Jude/Ellis (normal) Elbie/Alfie (normal) Vic/Will (normal)

All the boys are showing interest in Kate at this event. And their personality has played a huge role in how they express it. This is one of the events that allows you to get to know them better at the very beginning of the story. Sweet, funny and cute. No romance, just a hint of it. Unfortunately, this is not an event that you can save by reading both normal and premium ending. Sadly.

I found the first two chapters, the premium ending and the epilogue:

So I recommend reading this beforehand.

Kate cannot sleep. Yes, she remembers that only the staff can open the door, but it still doesn't give a sense of security. She decided to prepare for the second day of the "pretend to be the Queen" job. But when she opens the book, there is a strange sound outside her room.

And she notices some "maybe-not-so-dead-body" lying at the feet of Ellis and Jude.

It's okay, she couldn't fell asleep anyway…

So, all of them (including unconscious "body") entered Queen-Kate's room. The boys explain that this "body" is the secretary of the minister in question, who actually tried to break into her room with obviously bad intentions.

Kate immediately thought of a very suspicious minister with glasses… and received another compliment from Jude…

Oh, hon, you spoil me…

They explain that Ellis felt a sweet smell coming from the crown. And they realized that the culprit was the one who touched the crown last. But they needed proof, so they waited for his move.

Kate thinks they work very well together. And it doesn't look like a purely business relationship. So she asks:

You look like an old married couple who know each other so well that they can be in perfect sync and understand each other even without words… We've seen that… How long have they been together? Eight years? Something like that… That's a lot!

So they start to express their "wishes" to her…

Oh, how scary…

She tried to reason with them… and that made Jude remind her that if she suddenly backed out, it would be a breach of contract.

Oh, stop it, you're making me blush!

So they took the "body" and left her to sleep. They still have a lot of work to do. Of course, she couldn't sleep at all.

The next morning, the boys bring the culprits to Victor.

Ellis noted that Jude was more harsh with interrogations than usual

But Ellis himself admits that he was a little meaner than usual because he scared Kate. But he didn't cross the line of murder/death. I can't say exactly what he meant.

Of course, he didn't answer that question. Oh Jude, you really love this kid)))

So they found Kate, who decided to ask them what happened last night

Yeah… they don't want to worried her for no reason.

So… In this ending, wish fulfillment was not shown at all. But I really enjoyed the interaction between Jude and Ellis. It's always fun and breathes life… It gives a very vivid picture of who they are, and I can almost hear their voices in these dialogues.

This is the second time this event has been on the JP server. So when it came on EN I will have more than enough opportunities to fill in the gaps that I undoubtedly still have.

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🔝 Start page 🔝

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mysterious-moonstruck-musings · 5 months

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The Knight & His Queen: Part 2

Fic Masterlist ||| Main Masterlist

Dieter Bravo x OFC

Summary: While looking for the perfect Christmas gift for his niece, Dieter Bravo finds himself in a small mystic shop, owned by the sweet and eccentric Amina. After an impromptu tarot reading with unexpected and surprising results, the two quickly find themselves entranced by each other.

Warnings: Spicy language, alcohol consumption, smut, & mentions of drug use. Mystical topics such as tarot readings, spirit guides, chakras, etc. Dieter Bravo comes with his own warnings.

Chapter Quote: “Get it together Bravo.”

Dieter POV

As I sat at the table not paying attention to anything happening on stage and trying to get the server’s attention to refill my glass of wine, my mind kept coming back to one thing…the girl from the shop. Amina. She was unlike anything I had ever seen with her long silky dark hair and eyes that looked like the moon. She was invading every inch of my brain and entering my bloodstream, stronger and with more force than any drug I had ever consumed. She wasn’t the type of person I was normally attracted to. She seemed sweet, but also a little quirky. Definitely not the usual self-centered type that typically found their way into my life.

When I first saw Amina this morning through the shop window and she smiled at Ava, my entire body started to tingle. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. Something about her was pulling me in, like twin astronomical objects stuck in each other’s gravitational orbit, the other half to my binary star system. I wanted to go inside immediately but thought against it since Ava was with me. She didn’t need to see her uncle dissolve into a bumbling mess over a pretty lady. She would have never let me live that down.

Ava’s Christmas request did give me a reason to go back to the shop, which I was delighted over. I decided to swing back by after dropping her off with her mom, knowing there was a possibility that it might make me late for the benefit fundraiser that I was currently suffering through. Between the uncomfortable chair that was causing my lower back to feel like it was about to snap in half and the stuck up ass holes I had been seated with, it gave me all the more reason to focus my thoughts on Amina, with the occasional intrusive thought telling me I should have taken a couple more edibles before I left the house.

As the next musical act took the stage, a server passed by. I waved my hand to get his attention, finally getting a refill. As he was about to walk away to the next table, I told him to leave the bottle, realizing it was nearly full. I didn’t want to have to flag somebody down again. He briefly resisted, but finally handed it over to avoid a scene. Sitting the bottle down on the table in front of me, I chanced a look around and noticed the lady across the table from me giving a disapproving look. I smiled and held up my overly full glass in a toast toward her. She rolled her eyes and turned back toward the stage. “Huh. Tough crowd,” I mumbled to myself. The bottle of wine and thoughts of Amina were the only things that could get me through tonight.

My mind kept circling back to the tarot reading. I had never considered doing a reading before, but I had a strange urge to do it when I saw the sign. My compulsive nature not allowing me to leave the shop without it. The reading itself blew my mind, of course. It really had me reevaluating everything I thought I knew about myself and what I wanted in my future, but it was Amina’s reaction to it that really stuck with me. I felt like there was something she was holding back, but I wasn’t sure what. It made me feel uneasy, but also giddy about the possibility of additional prospects.

As I refilled my third glass of wine, I considered the weird electricity I had felt between us. Was that just my imagination? I felt like she could feel it too by the way she kept looking at me. Especially when I shook her hand…or maybe she just recognized who I was? Is that how she knew I was a Leo? I had so many fucking questions and it was starting to give me a headache. Or maybe it was all the wine and edibles mixing badly.

Before today, I had given up on the idea of love. My past relationships were full of turmoil and drama. Most people just used me for money or notoriety. Once they got what they wanted, they were off to their next great adventure leaving me behind without a second thought. All of those experiences had hardened me, making me question people’s motives at every turn. It had sort of turned me into a pessimistic asshole. These days I prefer to spend my time alone and high, with the exception of family time. My sister and niece were the only two I actually enjoyed being around. I wondered if I could add Amina to that short list? She seemed different, not corrupted by the business…a normal person. She probably wouldn’t want to be pulled into this world though. She seemed too pure and gentle for it.

Movement in my left periphery pulled me out of my thoughts. One of my crazy exes was eyeing me from where she stood a few tables over. I exhaled rather loudly before spitting out an annoyed “Fuck.” The asshats sitting next me at the table turned, giving me a confused look. I grabbed my glass and the bottle of wine and made a beeline for the first door I saw before she had the chance to come over and talk to me. When I walked through the door, I was met by a flurry of activity from the servers. This was obviously an area I wasn’t supposed to be in.

The server that had left the bottle of wine appeared in front of me with a frustrated look, “Mr. Bravo, you can’t be back here. This area is not for guests.”

“I don’t fucking care. I can’t be out there. Where’s the exit?”

He raised his brows at me before answering, “The way you came.”

“No…no, no. There has to be another one. Fire code says so. Take me to it…please.” He stood there, giving me a dismissive look. I clearly needed a different approach, “My crazy ex is out there looking for me. I can’t talk to her. She’ll want to come home with me, and I’ll probably let her because I’m a fucking idiot. Don’t enable me…please.”

I could see his resolve crumbing, “Alright, fine. Come on.” I followed him through the kitchen area to the exit at the back that led out to an alley lined with several dumpsters. I drained my glass before handing it to the young man but kept the bottle of wine. Shaking his head at me, he disappeared back inside. I figured I had been at the event long enough, so I called my driver to come get me to take me home.

When I got home, I still had Amina on the brain and got the sudden urge to paint. I didn’t even bother changing out of my dress clothes before starting on a fresh canvas in the corner of my bedroom. I had an image in my head that I needed to get out even if I wasn’t exactly sure what it was. It was a swirl of light blue, navy, deep red, and a touch of yellow. And there were shapes too…circles and half-moons of varying sizes in a bronze color. It was the most bizarre thing. I finished off the bottle of wine as I painted. Eventually getting hot and stripping down to my boxer briefs, scattering the rather expensive clothes around the room and probably getting paint on them in my drunken state. By the time 3AM rolled around, I was running out of steam. I crawled into bed, still covered in paint.

I awoke the next morning to the hot sun streaming in through the French doors. As I lay there, I had an urge to go back to the shop today. I wanted to see Amina again. I wanted to get to know her. I reached for my phone and started scrolling Instagram as I always do when I first wake up. As I was trying to think through my next steps, a post from the Griffith Observatory caught my attention. There was going to be a meteor shower tomorrow night. I started toying with the idea of going there to view the event so I could use their telescopes since I didn’t have any other plans. Maybe I could take Ava…she loved that stuff.

I sat up quickly. “Wait...Maybe…that’s an amazing idea,” I said out loud to myself. I could ask Amina to go. She would be into that stuff, right? I nearly tripped over the blankets tangled around my legs as I jumped up out of bed to go shower. Afterwards, I tried to tame my messy locks, but I wasn’t sure how well I succeeded. At least it looked like it was supposed to be that way on purpose. I threw on a navy and gray plaid button up shirt, leaving the top few buttons open and rolling up the sleeves, paired with dark wash jeans. I looked somewhat put together and even added a little cologne. Satisfied with my appearance, I popped a couple of edibles to chill my ass out, grabbed my wallet, phone, sunglasses, and keys before heading out the door.

I wasn’t sure what time the shop opened, but it was nearing 11 AM when I parked the car. I figured it had to be open by now. I could feel the nervousness creeping in. I couldn’t remember the last time I had actually asked someone out on a real date and planned it. Most of the time I would just end up leaving an event or a party with someone and stay with them for several days or until they got whatever they needed from me. That’s just how the Hollywood lifestyle worked, and I was over it months ago. It did nothing but cause me grief.

As I approached the shop from across the street, I could see the neon ‘open’ sign glowing in the front window. I could feel my heart rate picking up, realizing that this felt like foreign territory to me. I wasn’t even sure what to say to her. It was probably better I didn’t think too hard about it, or I would end up chickening out. Besides, I was just doing what the cards said. Seeing the opportunity and taking the leap.

Thinking of the card reading stopped me in my tracks, “Fuck” I whispered to myself, backing against the brick wall of the building. I hadn’t considered the card reading. Knowing what the reading implied…that could be a lot of pressure and weird as hell. Should I just stroll in and say, ‘Oh hi, I think you're my soulmate the cards spoke of?’ I was suddenly starting to feel like this was a bad idea, like she would think I was nuts.

I was about to turn and go back to my car when movement from across the street caught my attention. I watched as the shop door opened and Amina stepped outside to hold the door for an elderly woman carrying a bag and walking with a cane. They were both smiling and obviously having a pleasant exchange as the older woman slowly made her way down the small ramp from the door. Amina clearly had a kind heart and cared about others. However, it wasn’t her actions that currently held my attention, but what she was wearing; flared jeans, brown clogs, and a deep red sleeveless duster over a shirt with bell sleeves. It was the shirt that stood out to me, specifically the design on it. A swirl of light blue, navy, dark red, with a hint of yellow, just like my painting from last night.

“What the fuck? No way.”

That had to be a sign, right? My feet started moving toward the shop without my permission. I momentarily paused before opening the door, taking a deep breath to try and calm my nerves, but it didn’t seem to do anything to help.

I huffed out, “Get it together Bravo.” Like that was supposed to do something.

When I entered, I didn’t immediately see anyone. So, I started browsing through the book section, occasionally peeking around to look for Amina. I thought I could hear hushed voices coming from the back before Amina stumbled through the beaded curtains, looking back with an annoyed expression on her face. I raised an eyebrow in her direction with a smirk on my face. She looked flustered, which I found to be adorable. As her eyes met mine, she smiled sweetly, walking toward me.

“Dieter, you’re back so soon? I don’t…have the mockup ready yet…”

My eyes widened at her words. Fuck, I didn’t even think about that. I didn’t want her to feel rushed.

“No, sorry…sorry, I’m not here for that. I wouldn’t expect you to have it ready that quickly.”

She rubbed her hand across her forehead, “Whew, ok good.”

We both chuckled before she continued, “Is there something I can help you with then?”

“Umm…”

She gave me a questioning look, a small smile playing on her lips. And her eyes…fuck, I could get lost in them. I couldn’t look away. They were the most beautiful shade of gray with flecks of another color I couldn’t exactly pinpoint. Maybe a darker shade of gray? Blue? They reminded me of the lunar surface. Divine, almost otherworldly. I wasn’t sure how long I stood there staring like an idiot with my mouth hanging open, but it was long enough for her to fill the silence. She pinched her brows together, clearly confused by my reaction.

“Are you looking for specific reading material?” She nodded toward the book in my hand.

“Umm…” Use your words Bravo. “No, nothing specific. Umm, I do like learning about astrology though. I noticed these yesterday and wanted to come check them out…Do you have any recommendations?”

I noticed her eyes flick down, like she was looking me over with a smirk on her face. Was she checking me out? Fucking hell. I have no idea what I’m doing.

“Any of them are good. I don’t put anything on the shelf that I haven’t read myself. It just depends on the specific topic you’re looking for really.”

“Oh, well I’ll just browse then.” I was almost positive the smile I gave her was ridiculous looking.

She nodded, “Right. Well…let me know if you have any questions and I would be happy to help.” She smiled, hesitating for a second before she walked back toward the register.

I stood there flipping through books for way longer than I should have, occasionally stealing quick glances toward Amina at the register. It looked like she was doing something on a laptop, but there were a couple of times I felt like I had caught her quickly looking away from me.

I eventually grabbed a couple of random books from the shelf to purchase. I hadn’t really looked at any of them and had no idea what was in my hand. I made my way around the shop, taking my time to look at every inch of the place while I tried to decide on my next step. There was so much I wanted to buy, but I didn’t want to look like a weirdo. I did grab the incense burner I had seen the previous day. I had a thing for wolves, so it went with my vibe. I still hadn’t decided on a plan of action by the time I got up to the register, but I couldn’t stall anymore without looking like a creep. When I sat everything down on the counter, Amina started shuffling through the books I had grabbed. She held one up, biting her lip slightly before asking, “Did you find everything you were looking for?”

I was momentarily distracted by her bottom lip tucked between her teeth before I looked over to the book in her hand, which was called The Astrology of Sex. What a fucking idiot. That’s a great impression. I could feel my mouth drop open as my face heated. I knew I had to be turning red.

“Oh…umm. I didn’t mean to grab that. I-I meant to get the one beside it…I think…”

Her smile widened, “I mean, it’s an interesting read.” She chuckled. “You wanna swap it out…for the correct one?”

I wish she hadn't said that. The thought of her reading a book about sex was sending signals directly to my dick.

I let out a breathy laugh, “I mean, if you say it’s a good read, I’ll give it a try on your recommendation.”

She smiled at me as she started ringing everything up. The way she looked at me was making my heart beat out of my chest. I tried to look everywhere but at her, yet somehow the pendant on the long chain around her neck still caught my attention. It was copper, an elongated oval with different half-moon shapes above and below a full circle stamped into the metal. It was the same shapes that I couldn’t get out of my head last night.

“That pendant on your necklace, what are those shapes?”

She glanced down, lifting it so I could get a better look. “Oh, it's the different moon phases.”

“Huh…” I was a little stunned. “That’s interesting...”

I looked away, trying to process this new bit of information. Was this the universe's way of pushing me to ask her out? I was beginning to feel the pressure bearing down on me. I started tapping on the counter, then realized Amina had said something that I missed.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” I felt like such a jackass. I had completely spaced out on her.

She raised her brows at me and pointed toward green numbers on the register, “Your total.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.” I pulled out my wallet and handed her my credit card. Her fingers brushed lightly against mine as she took it, causing my entire body to buzz with electricity. I wasn’t ready to leave, but I didn’t know what else to say. I noticed a small display for chakra bracelets next to the register.

“What’s a chakra?” I legitimately didn’t know. Hopefully I wasn’t about to make an ass of myself again.

She looked up at me through her lashes as she bagged everything, a smirk on her face. My breath hitched slightly at the sight.

“It’s a belief that originates from early Hinduism that we have different energy disks that we should maintain and keep open. Each one corresponds with different parts of the body. There are seven of them.”

She pulled a chart out that had seven different colored circles and each one had a name related to a power. I scanned down the list; Crown, Third Eye, Throat, Heart, Solar Plexus, Sacral, and Root.

Picking one at random I asked, “What’s the Sacral Chakra do?”

She raised her brow at me before smiling, “It’s related to creativity and sexuality.”

My head dropped as I squeezed my eyes shut. Of course it is. I should just stop now before I embarrass myself any further. I chuckled before meeting her eyes again. She seemed amused but continued with her explanation.

“There are stones that relate to each Chakra. When you wear them, it helps with healing and balance. Allowing your energies to flow freely.”

She grabbed one of the bracelets from the display, unclasping it before reaching for my arm and closing it around my wrist next to the others I was currently wearing, “That’s on the house….to add to your collection. The brownish-red stone is called Carnelian. It’s the Sacral stone.”

Her fingertips brushed down the side of mine as she pulled away, leaving a searing heat where they touched. A slight smile playing at the edge of her lips over her teasing words.

I was almost certain I felt my heart skip a beat when she glanced back up at me. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t move. I just stood there with a dumbstruck grin on my face staring at her. I finally managed to mumble out my thanks before clumsily grabbing the bags and turning toward the exit, chastising myself for allowing the moment to pass without asking her out. I walked all the way back to my car and got in. Sitting there replaying every detail of that interaction and hating myself for failing at my mission and acting like a dumbass.

I couldn’t go back now without it being weird. I had completely blown that opportunity. I sighed as I stared at the bag in the passenger seat. A low chuckle escaped my lips as I realized I bought the incense burner but didn’t get any incense to burn. Was I really about to go back in there? Yes, I fucking was.

Before I had time to talk myself out of it, I was walking through the shop entrance again. Amina looked up from her laptop, her eyebrows pinching together, obviously confused as to why I was back. I gave an awkward wave in her direction.

“Sorry to bother you again. I got to the car and realized I forgot to get incense…to go with the burner.”

Her face softened as a smile formed on her plump lips, “Ahh, perhaps I should have asked if you needed any to save you the trip.”

She walked around from behind the counter, “I have several to choose from over here. Do you know which scent you’re looking for?”

I chuckled, “I’ve heard incense can be good to mask the smell of weed. So, whatever is good for that.”

She quirked an eyebrow at me, laughing quietly at my reasoning. Hopefully that wasn’t something that bothered her.

“It can depend on the strain you’re masking, but usually vanilla is a good cover for any of them. If it’s something on the stronger side, Patchouli works well. Sandalwood, citrus, and lavender are effective for the weaker strains.”

I nodded along, but I was only half listening. Instead, I was wondering what she smelled like... and I was dying to touch the silky tendrils of hair laying across her face.

“Umm, what’s your preference?” Was the only response I could think of. I wasn’t sure if I had blinked since she started speaking. I was completely entranced by her.

She smiled, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear, “I prefer the softer scents of vanilla and citrus myself.”

She pulled a pack of each from the display, holding them up for me to smell. I briefly wondered if I would find similar scents on her skin as I inhaled each of them.

“Those do smell nice. I’ll go with them,” I nodded, happy with that decision.

“Anything else you forgot?” She raised her brows in a questioning gesture.

I laughed nervously, “I don’t think so. If I did, I’ll just come right back again.”

She tucked her bottom lip between her teeth, fighting a smile as she walked toward the register.

Fucking hell Bravo, just do it already.

I cleared my throat as I approached, nervously drumming my fingers on the counter as I worked up the courage to ask her.

“Amina, umm…” Her eyes snapped to mine. She seemed surprised by my casual use of her name.

I exhaled slowly. No stopping now.

“Are you free tomorrow night?” She looked momentarily stunned by my question. “Do you want to go on a date with me?” I continued, blurting it out at her. It was not the best delivery.

“Umm, does it have to be tomorrow? I do have work…”

Fuck. I didn’t think that through. I felt hot all of a sudden, flushed. My ears were starting to ring from the blood pounding in them. Then the word vomit started.

“No…no it doesn’t have to be tomorrow. It’s just…there’s a meteor shower tomorrow night and I figured we could go to the observatory and use their telescopes to watch it and look at other things too…since it’s supposed to be a clear night. I thought it might be something you would enjoy doing with me? If not, we can totally do something else another day too if you prefer?”

Before she could respond, we were interrupted by the same girl from yesterday busting through the beaded curtain.

“Mina, I can close tomorrow. Go. That sounds like a good time.” The girl winked and nudged her shoulder against Amina’s to emphasize some unspoken words between them. Clearly, she had been listening.

Amina stood staring at me, looking conflicted. I could feel my heart sinking into my stomach at the realization that she was probably going to turn me down. I had nothing to lose at this point, so I might as well go for it.

“I realize the whole thing with the card reading yesterday probably makes this a little weird…but, I really would like an opportunity to get to know you better. If it matters, I did want to come in and talk to you the second I saw you in the window yesterday morning.”

Amina’s eyes widened with that new bit of information. I felt it was important that she knew I was interested before the reading. I didn’t want her to think I was blindly asking just because of the cards.

She let out a controlled breath, “Ok…yeah. That sounds like fun actually.”

She suddenly seemed shy as she smiled up at me. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

“Yeah?” She nodded. “That’s amazing. Awesome.” I couldn’t help the goofy grin I knew I had plastered on my face.

“Give me your phone,” she said suddenly. I fished it out of my pocket, unlocking it before handing it over to her.

“Here’s my number. I’ll text you my address. Pick me up at six if that time works?”

I nodded maybe a little too enthusiastically, “That sounds perfect.”

When she handed my phone back, I glanced at her contact information, noticing she listed her details under ‘Mina - The Mystic Shop Girl’. She must have noticed how I had names listed in my contacts and I loved that she went along with it. I looked up at her with a smirk. She was fighting a smile too as she went back to ringing up my purchase that I had completely forgotten about. We completed the transaction in a comfortable silence. Both of us stealing glances at each other with small smiles on our faces throughout. Once I finished paying, I gave her a nod of thanks as I turned to leave.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I added over my shoulder, still smiling like a fool as I excited the shop.

I felt like I could have done a little jig as I walked back to my car. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt this excited about something. Today was a good day and tomorrow was going to be even fucking better.

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x ofc #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #the knight & his queen

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welcometohellweofferimagines · 2 years

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BRUCE WAYNE x READER ❥ there is a thin line between love and hate ❥ ⌜ ❁ ⌟ ✧ ⌞ ❀ ⌝ based off of the original (cringe-fest) imagine: x

children, i’ve brought you a garbage fic and a billionaire to eat. dig in. x ⌜ ❁ ⌟ ✧ ⌞ ❀ ⌝ ⌌ ✍︎ re-written version of “ and i would like nothing more than that ”. unedited. 18 • 09 • 22 ⌍

You don’t drink. Well, much. No, that really was the truth.

All right, you might indulge in one or two alcoholic beverages here and there — but it really wasn’t a problem; and you rarely got drunk. Especially not on the job.

“Okay,” said the bespectacled man — perhaps the politest of your conversational partners this evening — before he tapped his empty champagne flute, stood, excused himself, and left.

Ah. Perhaps insisting to these blue-bloods that you were a professional, and a well-behaved one at that, was not the best topic of choice. You’d lost four, no, five... no, maybe nine people since you picked up your first flute and begrudgingly agreed to mingle.

“It’s networking, baby,” Luca had finger-gunned in your direction. “Just as important as the job.”

What job, you mused to yourself, grumbling over the glass rim. “I don’t give a fuck about this back-scratching shit.”

The last of the bubbly disappeared down your throat, the thirst for more immediate as soon as you lowered the champagne flute from your lips.

Jewels glittered in all directions, the comically elegant laughter around you like headache-inducing sirens. Your own attire felt cheap in comparison, although you’d dragged your feet into an expensive shop to purchase it just a few weeks ago.

You trudged past them all tonight much like you’d entered the store then, a little more drunk and loose now to care that you looked like a sullen child instead of [Y/N] from Accounting.

It didn’t matter anyway. You’d handed in your resignation a week ago. Soon, you’d be gone with the wind, baby. Networking be damned.

You wandered. Wandered, stopped to admire the chocolate éclairs on a server’s silver platter, and wandered some more. Yet, no champagne flutes were in your sight, save for those held already by attendees. You scratched your head — increasingly fuzzy, with the umpteenth drink coursing through you; there must be a logical explanation, you decided; but you sure as hell weren’t going to be able to discover what it was tonight, so you might as well just go sit down.

Unbeknownst to you, you were among the few guests to whom a certain British butler had long since forbidden the servers from offering more drinks. If he hadn’t been Mr Wayne’s own personal staff, one or two might not have cared to listen. But because he himself had an air of authority, none dared approach you after dispersing; except for those serving food.

A quiet corner near the French windows pulled you from the chattering crowd, a sole man occupying it. He smiled at you when you plopped down across from him, but, until he spoke, he was a little too hazy to recognise.

“[Miss/Mr/Mx] [Y/L/N]. What a pleasure.”

“Mr Fox,” you greeted, perking up for the first time that night. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Couldn’t miss one of Mr Wayne’s parties, now, could I?” There was a trace of humour in his voice. Enough for you to throw all caution to the wind and snort in a drunken response.

“So much for charity event, huh.” You rested your cheek on your palm as you glanced over your shoulder at the others. “You know, I tried to donate five hundred dollars. The lady there laughed at me,” you gestured with your chin to the tall foundation hostess in her custom red Versace gown, greying golden hair swept up in a trés chic updo. “Thought it was a joke.”

“Nobody likes a cheapskate, [Mx/Miss/Mr] [Y/L/N].” Lucius Fox shook his head. “That’s why I donated five hundred and one dollars.”

You were caught in a mid-snort when another figure approached, claiming the chair beside Mr Fox with a languid air. The newcomer unbuttoned his suit jacket as he sat, turning to his adjacent partner with a smile.

“Lucius. A word?”

“Of course, Mr Wayne.” He then nodded in your direction, “We have another guest, however. Polite manners require you greet [them/her/him] as well.”

It wasn’t meant as a chastisement; rather, Lucius Fox sounded very much like he was teasing the man. The alcohol in you wasn’t helping much at the moment, but you just about managed to catch Mr Wayne smiling, an indulging expression that reeked of an arrogant nonchalance. Your nose scrunched up.

God, you disliked this man.

In the revolution, you hoped to eat him first.

“Good evening. [Mx/Miss/Mr] ...?”

His gaze found yours. Or, at least, you thought it did.

You didn’t answer. The silence that stretched between the three of you grew uncomfortable, until, when Fox began to shift in his seat, it turned unbearable.

Now was your cue to exit.

Mr Fox began, “This is [Y/N]—”

Without a word, you stood from your seat, and walked — perhaps, more accurately, stumbled — to the French windows and flung them open, out into the cool night air.

Gotham sprawled out before you: glittering lights. Much like the ornaments the elite donned inside, the spectacle overwhelmed, much too fine for an especially topsy-turvy mind such as the one you were struggling with now. But, oh, was this a pretty sight. Prettier than the one indoors.

Another outcast stood further down the balcony, the warm orange light of a cigarette cutting through the dark; he exhaled, leaning his head back, missing you as you stormed up to him with balled fists and a furious frown.

“Luca!” You punched his arm. Lightly. He yelped. (Maybe it wasn’t that light actually.)

“[Y/N], what the fu—”

“What happened to networking, baby?” you demanded, seizing his cigarette and flinging it beneath your shoe. He cried out as you crushed it into ash.

“Huh?”

“The fuck are you doing out here? I haven’t seen you inside since Lady Gaga sang.”

“She was amazing, wasn’t sh—” Your palm struck his shoulder. “Ow!”

“You said it was important. I’ve been rubbing elbows this whole time and I’ve hated every single second of it. Why aren’t you doing the same thing?”

“I said it was important, I didn’t say I liked it.” Luca huffed out a breath, inhaling as if it were cigarette smoke. He leaned his head back again and blinked up at the starless sky.

You glared at him. “How many people — and not from work — have you talked to tonight?”

Luca seemed to consider a moment. Yet, when he answered, it was a pathetic one. “I talked to Alfred.”

“Who’s Alfred?”

“Pennyworth.”

“From?”

Luca paused. He hesitated, fidgeting. “From Wayne... Manor.”

“Wayne Manor? What is he? Wayne’s lover or something?”

Luca relaxed into a grin. “Butler.”

“So he makes the bed after he wakes up from it. Okay. I get it. Good job, Luca.” His other hand, the elbow resting against the parapet, held a crystal whiskey glass, amber liquid inside. You swiped it — much to his displeasure.

“I spoke to a lot of people,” you brushed his protests aside, “I deserve this,” slowly sipping the burning liquid until none was left.

“[Y/N], I’m broke,” Luca pouted after a few peaceful minutes. “I bought this stupid watch for, like, almost a grand. Harrington saw it and did his backhanded compliment thing. He was all like, oh, I love it! So vintage. That’s their old model released three years ago. Very affordable.”

“Hate that guy”

“Me too.”

“Is that why you’re out here? Not in there?”

Luca nodded.

“Okay. Mood.” You regarded the crystal in your hand with interest. “That’s why I’m outta here.”

“Home?”

That caught his attention. Now it was undivided — you didn’t actually want, nor need, him to focus on you so much.

“No. I handed in my notice—”

He spoke as you spoke, “You can’t leave, you bitch. Who else is going to be broke with me? Even Samara in accounting has a millionaire stepdad, and Hwa has—”

“—and I’m gonna leave this conversation now, bye.”

“[Y/N]!” he shouted after you.

“It’s mingle time, baby,” you called back to him.

It was not mingle time. You lied. You were going home.

But the night hadn’t finished its fun with you yet. You hadn’t stepped within a metre of the floor when Lucius Fox waved you over to his corner again. He had with him a whole party of individuals now: a Wayne Enterprises board member, one tech CEO from someplace-or-other, two board members from another company (one of whom you were about 80 to 85% sure was Roman Sionis), and a corporate lawyer you’d seen around the tower; and last, but certainly not least, Bruce Wayne himself.

You could ignore him, pretend you didn’t see.

Ah, yes, because making direct eye contact and then walking off is a totally valid explanation behind you somehow not noticing his invitation to his table. I am drunk though, you realised. That was a good excuse.

But this was Mr Fox... Soon enough you wouldn’t be around him anymore — not that you could tag alongside him much already when you were stuck in the accounting department — and what moments you could steal of witnessing his dry wit would be lost forever. That, and he was much too nice to purposely slight.

Surprisingly, there was a seat free beside Bruce Wayne. As you sat, though, you could tell that the woman to your right — the gorgeous lawyer, a Harvard graduate, you’d heard — had been eyeing that chair up for a while, too cautious to take it for herself, hoping instead that he might scoot over, even if only to get a better look at her slender legs.

Alas, you were now in between them.

“[Y/N] is leaving our company soon,” said Mr Fox, raising his glass of whiskey — where and when did the whiskey come out?! — to you in a toast. “If either of you gentlemen have an opening for a new chartered accountant, I’d highly recommend you hire [them/her/him].”

He took a sip from the glass as he added, “So [they/she/he]’ll come back to us soon.”

The other company’s board members chuckled, their interest in you sparked for a moment, before flickering; fleeting, much as you’d expected it to be. You busied yourself with the champagne that a server came to set before you — their hand trembling in uncertainty (considering retracting the flute as soon as their gaze locked with Mr Pennyworth’s) — content at last to have more numbing juice.

“Did Bruce not pay you enough?”

It took longer than you would have liked for you to realise that the one who spoke — Mr Hotshot-Twenty-Something-Year-Old-Tech-Savvy-Small-Loan-of-a-Million-Dollars-Guy — was in fact speaking to you.

A brush against your knee startled you. You almost jumped in your seat, managing to just flinch a little, glancing down in slow realisation that your adjacent acquaintance — unfortunately not the pretty lawyer lady — had accidentally brushed his knee against yours. He’d turned just a bit to look at you. His face was a tad blurry. You drank more champagne.

Hoping it to be a rhetorical question, you just answered with what you hoped was a humorous smile. But then Wayne himself joined in; his arm came to rest atop the back of your seat.

“Didn’t I?” he asked.

Could you up and leave for a second time in the face of his questioning? I mean, yes, of course you could, there was no law stopping you from doing that. The lawyer beside you could surely confirm that. But, would it be embarrassing? Witnessed by too many eyes?

Yes. Very much so.

“My salary was sufficient, thank you.” Damn, you hoped you didn’t slur. Or maybe you shouldn’t care... right?

“Then why leave?”

Fucking damn it. Just fuck off, you wanted to snap. His face swam beside you, the smile that graced his lips a fleeting sight as you narrowed your eyes at him for a quick moment. You must have looked far too contemptuous for an employee. Good thing you’d quit already.

Thankfully, it was the tech CEO who answered for you (the one time you’d excuse it). “Sufficient, Bruce. Sufficient. Not great.”

“Sufficient is great in this economy,” offered the lawyer, twirling her finger around the toothpick in her martini, staring at the green olives within. Darn it, how come she got a martini, and you didn’t?

“Yeah?” countered the CEO.

The woman frowned. “Not everyone’s as comfortable as you are, Nathaniel.”

The subject of her frown also frowned. “Don’t call me Nathaniel.” He took a swig of his own drink. “Reminds me of my dad.”

Why not just pay what we’re owed, you might have suggested. If someone had also given you a martini, you would have said it.

Sufficient is just not good enough. To put up with their lot.

Mr Wayne’s knuckles brushed your fingers when he lowered his whiskey glass to the table; too close to where you held your flute to not be suspect. You looked at him through a narrowed gaze again. His brown hair fell over his forehead, catching the light. It looked like melted chocolate, dark; but there were hints of a golden hue in each wave.

You then couldn’t help but notice that he’d undone his tie. A few buttons on his pristine white shirt were open. Holy shit if you’d ever dared show up to an event like this, unkempt as he’d allowed himself to become, you’d be blacklisted from employment interviews for life — unless you changed your name as well as your face.

Damn this man.

“You should’ve asked for a raise, [Y/N].”

[Y/N]. Sure, he was your boss, he could address you by your name rather than be formal, but also, what the fuck. In the few years you’d worked at Wayne Enterprises, you’d seldom met the man behind the name (although... there was that one time you’d spent almost a whole afternoon following him around the tower, close to begging him to just sign off on his personal expenditures, long ago giving up on explaining to the company owner that wining and dining the hot new Swedish shareholder couldn’t be accepted as a valid use of his company card). You sure as hell weren’t suddenly friends now. Besides, the way he just said it... that’s not how bosses usually utter any employee’s name.

The lawyer beside you noticed, too. Or at least you think she did. Her posture became rigid, her gaze shifting to you. Her plump lips formed a smile, but it seemed self-deprecating, as well as accepting.

You took a moment to admire her smooth dark skin as she lamented over not moving seats as soon as yours had first become available.

She was who Bruce Wayne should be rubbing his knuckles against. Not you.

You’d rather punch him than brush your own knuckles against his skin.

Fine, yes, it was true that he was very pretty. Women weren’t as vapid as these assholes liked to accuse them of being; it wasn’t just money, and you know what, it wasn’t even only his looks that trapped women or other partners. You’d seen him shed some of his ignorance before. Sometimes, he really could be charming.

If you liked that sort of thing.

Which you didn’t.

Ugh.

“I think,” you drew a breath, “I’m done with the corporate world for a while.”

“What will you do once you’re free?” Again, it was Mr Wayne who asked.

Wasn’t he completely uninterested in even saying hello to you a few moments ago? When was he going to go back to not caring — because you really needed an opening to say your goodbyes and book it home.

“Travel. Take a vacation, I guess.” Why did your accent change? Fuck, you needed to leave.

“Good choice,” Mr Fox nodded in approval.

You raised your almost empty champagne flute to him.

“In this economy?” joked the woman beside you.

She was rich, you could tell. But self-made. Her dress was a gorgeous black silk. The gold around her neck and wrists weren’t there to brag. She had on an old, sentimental wristwatch. There was something about her, that you could tell she knew well the struggles of gaining success. If anyone else understood the value of money at this table, it was her.

You liked her. You should get up and give her your seat. Even if it meant that someone as undeserving as Bruce Wayne could shoot his shot with her. After all, she wanted him to, didn’t she.

Or maybe you should shoot your shot.

She laughed, throwing her head back at something Bruce Wayne said from your other side, showing for a moment the graceful curve of her neck. Her laughter sounded like divine song.

Nope, never mind. She was way out of your league.

“Excuse me,” you murmured, rising — frustratingly with a bit of difficulty — to your feet. Much to your distaste, your chair legs scraped across the floor, loud. Using the table’s edge for balance, you guided yourself around your chair, pausing to push it in with a keen concentration that your closest table partners didn’t fail to notice.

“I’ll come with you, [Y/N],” Lucius Fox offered, standing as well.

But before he could move, Mr Wayne also rose, the fog of his own drunken mirth disappearing for a second, noticed solely by Lucius. “You promised Mr Sionis a sneak peek of our new tech, didn’t you? It’s okay. I’ll help [Y/N].”

The two men shared a nod, even as Bruce Wayne’s gaze followed your abruptly retreating form. Fists balled at your sides, arms pendulating, you focused all your will on remaining upright and fast, all the while fleeing to the exit unaware of how cartoonish you looked.

Almost there, you triumphed, catching sight of the coat check attendant. Almost. There.

The attendant noticed your approach and offered a smile. He stepped forward to serve you, just as another woman called for him, the apologetic expression on his face too genuine to hold a grudge against him as he rushed off to get her fur coat. Foiled again! How many times did you have to be reminded of how unimportant you were compared to these blue-bloods?

You tapped your foot once you reached the door to the cloakroom. Soon, you were leaning against the wall in a vain effort to not fall. It wasn’t long before someone joined you, their amiable smile gaining from you only a disappointed grimace. If he noticed, Bruce Wayne didn’t comment on it. He simply came to stand beside you, hands in the pockets of his tuxedo pants, his gaze sweeping over the party crowd with you.

“Leaving so soon, [Mx/Miss/Mr] [Y/L/N].” His tone didn’t make it sound like a question, not even a rhetorical one; this seemed more like a remark.

“It’s almost eleven,” you mumbled, checking your wristwatch to confirm. “Not so soon, actually.”

“This event’s unlikely to end till midnight,” he told you, flashing you a small smile before returning to people-watching.

“Uh, ha, too late for me.”

Away from people, from being among conversations, you could no longer deny the fact that you were, like the embarrassment you could be, slurring. But beside him, you didn’t feel too bad about it; you’d heard about the times he’d shown up to board meetings hungover. More often than not, he even fell asleep during them. Let him hear your slurred speech, his opinion didn’t matter to you anyway.

“Sounds like we’re losing a good employee,” mused Mr Wayne, but he spoke with a certain detachment, although he smiled. He didn’t care about the company as much as Mr Fox did, you were aware; he’d left most matters in the latter’s capable hands, after all.

“Don’t worry,” you found yourself saying, “I’ll make sure my replacement ch—chases you around to get your—” you imitated signing, “—on expenses even better than I do.”

His look of surprise met only the sight of your turned back, your additional muttered, “Not that you ever made it easy, though,” hopefully going unheard as you waved the coat attendant over again.

(You'd only really done it once.)

(Not that it mattered.)

(Once was hard enough.)

To your astonishment, his laugh rang out behind you. You faced the direction of the deep sound, seeing that he was now eyeing you with a certain curiosity — all traces of alcoholic influence oddly gone. A sudden uneasiness pooled in the pit of your stomach.

Why, you couldn’t tell. Maybe it was because you’d never seen him this way. Bruce Wayne was always the worst spoiled, unconcerned snob around Gotham; yeah, he was an Ivy League graduate, but you sure as hell doubted that he got in on merit (all right, that was harsh... he was smart, you had to admit that — but he was just as careless); and what immense power he had, he used for his stupid exploits.

This man before you didn’t seem like that Bruce Wayne.

The attendant came to take your card and disappeared once more into the cloakroom. You took his arrival and departure as an excuse to turn your back on Wayne again, for some strange reason trembling. You were drunk. You were seeing things, thinking things, making things up.

Yes, that made sense.

“Do you need a ride home, [Y/N]?” he asked, breaking the silence.

“Hm? Oh, no, thank you,” you answered, without evening meeting his gaze. “I’ll take the train. Besides...” No, don’t say it. You didn’t need to, just leave it at that, what use was it to make another jab at this dude? “Didn’t you drink?”

He chuckled, stepping around to look into your face with a smile, “I’d ask my butler to drive.”

His smile waned, just a bit (such a miniscule shift, you almost thought you imagined it; because, otherwise, that might have been the most genuine reaction you’d ever seen him have). “It’s not that safe on the trains this late at night.”

“It’s okay,” you fought to keep a frown off your face, “I use them all the time.”

Who was he to speak? His family might have built them, but you doubted he’d ever taken a train in his life.

Okay, he had a point. But you weren’t going to listen to one of the wealthiest people in the world tell you your public transport was inadequate.

And yes, of course you knew he himself had suffered an enormous loss in his youth... but perhaps that’s what frustrated you the most: that, despite what horror he faced on the night of his parents’ murder, he still turned out to be this selfish brat.

Your coat appeared, along with the attendant. He came up to you whilst someone else vied for his attention; you hurriedly handed him a tip, then left the ballroom, heading towards the elevator. A pair of feet followed behind.

“Wait, [Y/N].”

You didn’t wait. You all but smacked the elevator button with the heel of your palm.

Darn skyscrapers... Waiting for the elevator to rise to the top floor proved the worst of your experiences that night, because now Bruce Wayne was standing with you, alone, out in the glossy lobby where you just wanted to be left in peace.

“At least call a cab,” he said. Was his voice soft right now? Were you losing your hearing? How drunk were you, really?

All you responded with was a rub of your thumb over the tips of your middle and index fingers.

The lift continued to ascend.

“Let me pay fo—”

Before he could finish his offer, you shot him a dismissive look, quelling the little bud of guilt that grew in your chest from your own rude reaction.

“Goodnight, Mr Wayne,” you gave a nod, and returned to staring at the floor numbers above the sleek black doors.

He paused, for just a moment. Then, he said, “Well, [Y/N], thank you for your donation.” He turned to leave.

You shot him a smile this time, unable to keep the sarcasm off your face. “I could only offer some spare change though. Sorry.”

Silence. Then—

“I’m sorry if I’ve offended you somehow.”

The doors finally dinged open.

That stupid smile was back: the saccharine one, aloof and false. He never went without this particular expression, and he was damn good at it. Somehow, it could please its recipients, even though he didn’t even bother to properly conceal the apathy in his tone of voice.

But you couldn’t stand it. You had nothing to gain from the Great Bruce Wayne; except perhaps a headache. As pleasant as his smile was to look at, all it achieved in its use with you was furthering your irritation. If it were actually possible to see red when enraged, you’d have been overcome by it now.

“You know what, Mr Wayne, no.” You whirled towards him (staggering just a bit). “You’re not sorry.”

Still glaring at him, you marched inside the elevator. He took that as a cue to follow. Inside the closed — albeit ample — space, it felt almost as if your anger was radiating off of you, filling up between those four walls, pressing, and vengeful.

If it became tangible, Bruce Wayne would be crushed dead. You too, probably; but that was a sacrifice, in this moment, you’d be willing to make.

A short laugh escaped your lips, “You’re just not.”

Serious again, you continued your attack (as well as you could). “Just like— Just like you don’t actually care about this city. No, actually, I don’t think you e—even care about other people. What is this event... Honestly? It just feels like a, uh... a sham. A chance to stroke your egos, get drunk, and fuck around. You want to raise money for the public library? Okay. Where are the kids? Where’re the... library... people? Um. Fuck. Uh, right, librarians. Where are they? Lady Gaga is cool and all, but how is her singing Shallow really a part of this cause? Did you just pick a random charity out of a hat? Because it sure as hell seems like you did.”

You took a moment to gather your breath.

“Do you even know how to read, Mr Wayne? Well then read this — you are a pompous... pompous jerk. Who cares for little else but his money. You’re a fake.”

Everything was tilting. Was the world being pushed to its side? You stumbled back against the golden rail.

Some time passed.

When you next spoke, you almost didn’t recognise your own voice; this was someone else, surely; they sounded tired; they sounded almost sad. You weren’t sad. You were angry.

“You’re the fakest person I’ve ever met.”

The elevator announced your arrival on the ground floor. The doors slid open, but you didn’t move. He didn’t either.

Gone was his façade. Not even intoxication altered his features. He didn’t even seem offended.

Now, he was nothing... And fuck, this was so, so, so much worse. Whoever was standing in the other corner of the elevator was just an empty man...

An empty man with hollow eyes.

You couldn’t hold his gaze much longer. Glancing down at your shoes, you mumbled, “You know. You know what it’s like. This place is a shit show. Money couldn’t even save your...” No, you’d better not.

Inhaling deeply, you diverted. “Imagine what it’s like for everyone else. Hon—hon—” you gave a short chuckle at your stuttering, “—honestly, even I’m luckier than most. So... just... imagine.”

Exiting the elevator, you glanced toward him one last time, parting with an “Imagine dying on these streets with nothing. Then you can understand why watching you throw —you gesticulated— “your money around like it’s nothing makes people hate you.”

Cold wind greeted you past the revolving doors, the autumn night worsening by the minute. Rain was promised, and there was no denying it would fall soon enough. You should’ve brought an umbrella, but you’d honestly expected to run off much earlier.

The way home was far; you lived in a decent enough city block, but that’s what it was: decent — far, far, far from these opulent parts of Gotham. Trekking to the train station was going to be a bitch. But the temptation of calling a taxi from here to there... Financial ruin in disguise.

You drew your coat tighter around you and began walking. It is what it is.

An arm abruptly blocked your path. Following its length up to the face of its owner, a string of curse words erupted on your tongue, luckily silenced, too caught up in the realisation that he was flagging down a valet with his other hand before you could let him have it.

“What are you doing?” you demanded.

“Taking you home.” His gaze remained on the valet, a small, young woman who rushed off to retrieve his vehicle.

“Huh? I said I—”

“On most nights do you walk and take the train home drunk?”

There was a finality to his tone, taking from you any opportunity to argue. You could try; but you had a feeling that he would just shrug it all off. It would be useless, wouldn’t it.

But you were drunk. He frustrated you.

So, eventually, you tried.

“You can’t drive.” You watched with him as the valet pulled up to the curb, the lights from the building reflecting off the sleek golden body of his Bentley. “If I have to choose between getting stabbed going home or ending up in a car crash with you, I’d rather get stabbed to be honest.”

You were looking downward as you finished, miming a stabbing. When you glanced up, his smile came into focus; you were standing close, close enough that the sarcastic pull of his lips was completely unmistakeable. You should have been angry. Yet instead, you fell silent.

He was too real here, now.

Much like when he’d looked at you with his hollow eyes, you found yourself unable to meet his gaze. You focused on the pavement where you scuffed a limp leaf onto its surface.

“I’m not drunk,” he said, taking the keys from the valet. “I faked it. I’m good at that, remember?”

Several minutes more (no one willing to come tell off the man parked right outside the hotel entrance when it was clearly a disgruntled Bruce Wayne), and you were finally seated on the passenger side. When he got inside, droplets of light rain that had begun to fall were scattered in his hair, his piqued expression disappearing behind his sleeve as he tried to rub some of the rain off. He glanced in your direction for a second while he pointed at the dashboard system.

“Type in your address, please.”

The car rumbled to life and he pulled his seatbelt into place. As you sat digesting his words, he reached over to buckle you up, throwing you a peeved squint of his eyes when you barked out a protest.

This was the final form of rich spoiled brat Bruce Wayne — the last boss, worst of the worst — you decided.

Though, his manner felt more grounded than you’d expected from him during a disagreement. You’d expected more snobbish behaviour in the face of your blatant disrespect. More of “how dare [they/she/he] not like me — I’m Bruce fucking Wayne!” than this — whatever this was.

After a stretch of awkward silence, he gestured towards the screen again, “Well?”

Biting back some ugly grumbles, you did as he asked. Wondering for a moment whether your fingers were clean enough to be touching this expensive tech, hoping Wayne wouldn’t come to find the stickiness of dried champagne on his precious Bentley tomorrow morning.

With a nod in thanks, he put the gear into drive, and sped off down the street. He immediately swerved to take over a car ahead. Your stomach lurched, and for a moment you were terrified you might throw up all the alcohol still in your tummy. Also, what did you even eat tonight? Mozzarella sticks?

Oh yeah, that’s right, Luca, Hwa and you got waffle fries after work.

Bad choice...

You muffled past your palm, “Could you—”

The car immediately slowed to a decent speed. You might have thought he looked a little concerned when he faced you, but that was impossible considering the man in question.

“Do you need me to pull over?” he asked.

“No,” you assured, shaking your head. Your hand slipped down your face, falling to your lap. “I’ll be fine I think.”

A gentle hum filled what would have otherwise been silence, the engine so soothing that you felt you’d soon be asleep. The rain outside had grown heavier. Windscreen wipers swept across the windshield, the noise a welcome addition to your increasing repose.

You fell asleep in just a few minutes, waking long after you’d set off from the hotel. You started in your seat, a sharp gasp alerting Wayne of your awakening, his eyes narrowing to where you had managed to slump down in your sleep. Quickly, you straightened, stretching out the double-chin you’d slept with, crying on the inside with every painful stretch of your neck muscles.

“We’re almost there,” he said from beside you, tapping something on the tech screen. It wasn’t until a symphony stopped that you realised he’d been listening to music. Quiet followed.

“Oh.” You rubbed at your right eye. “You can keep playing it.”

“Tchaikovsky?” He smiled a little.

You looked at him. “You were listening to Tchaikovsky?”

He shook his head suddenly, “Who’s that?”

Confused, you said no more. Your head lolled back against the leather seat, staring through the window where buildings and lights and people blurred by. Your head was still spinning a little bit. You almost enjoyed the way everything blended into obscure colours. If it hadn’t been for the somersaults in your stomach, you’d enjoy it more.

“How far away are we now?” your question came out just above a whisper.

“Fourteen minutes.” After a long pause, he mused, “I didn’t actually realise how far you live, [Y/N].”

You curled in on yourself.

“Did you take the train all the way to the event?”

It took you a while to reply. He thought it was because of his question, unaware that he had made you uncomfortable elsehow. Several seconds later, you mumbled, “No, I stayed around after work. I walked over with some colleagues.”

He thought, then began, “You—”

But your voice held his tongue.

“Why do you... keep saying my name?” Abrupt; though it came out in a bashful murmur.

“Why?” He began to chuckle. “Why, because it’s your name.”

“No,” you shook your head. The space pressed in. There was so little of it, really. So little between you and him.

“No, like... It’s so... Like...” Intimate. “Weird. See, I haven’t said your name. Not once.”

“You’ve called me Mr Wayne a couple times tonight.”

“Yeah. It— That’s, you know, formal. Like, like, if you, like, call me [Mx/Miss/Mr] [Y/L/N], that’s not weird. Even in my head you’re just, like, always Bruce Wayne.”

“Say Bruce.”

You froze.

“Huh?”

“Say Bruce right now.”

Quiet, you tried to curl in on yourself further; but could manage no more than you already had. You trained your gaze out the window at the passing streetlights.

You murmured out a “No...”

He grinned at you, and you couldn’t help but glance fleetingly in his direction to gauge his reaction, shocked to find his countenance genuinely amused for the first time tonight. You looked back outside, folding your arms as your body slumped down the leather.

“Do you not want me to say your name then, [Y/N]?”

You shrugged.

“Okay.”

A muted beep, and Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake filled the space. Moments passed. But after a while, you couldn’t help it: you turned to him with an incredulous expression. He regarded your wide eyes, tutting in response.

“Is this not Taylor Swift?”

You simply stared.

“Hang on, I think you’ll like this.”

He pressed a few things on his screen, Swan Lake disappearing. A modern beat played from the speakers.

“Wait, what?”

“You like Big Shaq, right? Two plus two is four, minus one is—” He swatted lightly at your shoulder with the back of his hand, “You’re good with numbers.”

Gunshots struck the air. Pah, pah, pah, pah, pah.

As if this night couldn’t get any weirder, Bruce Wayne randomly pointed out of his side of the window, announcing gravely, “There’s a drug dealer who sells crack down that alley. You’re only a few minutes' drive away. Don’t walk past there. I’ve heard he’s a horribly good salesman.”

You willed yourself to go back to sleep.

Morning came without mercy.

You awoke earlier than you’d have liked to a pounding headache. Too weak to rise, you peeked over the covers — gathered tightly around your head — at the blinds, confirming from the golden sunlight sneaking through that it was day. You stubbornly fell back asleep soon after.

At around noon, your roommate was no longer indulgent of your behaviour, barrelling into your room to haul you out of bed. They shoved a glass of water in your hand, pointed at a box on the nightstand, and said something about coffee and lunch and brushing your teeth whilst storming out into the corridor as passionately as they’d come in.

You grumbled about not getting even a second of peace as you did what you were told. But you supposed this was revenge for the last time they’d come home drunk. You’d done almost the exact same thing.

The box yielded to be Tylenol. As you popped two tablets down, you grew aware of your surroundings. The floor was not littered with the clothes you’d worn out — a usual sight on the morning of a hangover. You glanced down to find last night’s attire still on.

Fabric creased, it looked cheap now, not just what you’d felt it to be among the evening’s finery.

The prospect of laundering made you groan — it would take intensive ironing to get those creases out. A task you had no intention of completing this weekend.

Trudging out to the bathroom, you brushed your teeth then took a shower. Your roommate was sat in front of the TV reading this week’s horoscope when you tiptoed to the kitchenette area to steal your coffee and lunch. Their gaze followed you amusedly as you snuck back towards your bedroom.

“Hey!” they called, stopping you in your tracks. “Did you read the note on your nightstand?”

“Uh...” you glanced over your shoulder at their bright face. “No? What note?”

A flourish; with a wave of their hand in the direction of your room, you were dismissed. “Just go read it, genius.”

“Asshole,” you muttered under your breath (endearingly (maybe)), but obeyed.

Spiteful as you could sometimes be in the face of your roommate's demands, your curiosity was simply too much to ignore when you spotted the folded piece of paper. It stood propped against your lamp, a little flower (smiling, you should add) sketched on its visible side. You plucked it from the nightstand and jumped back into bed.

Cursive script flowed down the paper, equal parts elegant and equal parts chaotic — too grand for you to decipher without worsening your headache.

And much too grand to be your roommate’s.

You squinted, reading slowly. Taking little in; until memories of last night returned to you.

Of course you hadn’t forgotten that the event was a disaster, nor could you forget that Bruce goddamn Wayne had driven you home after it. But the part at the end felt blurred; you recalled bits and pieces of waking up, falling back asleep, feeling as if you were floating, telling someone to fuck off, an intercom buzzing, elevator music, hysterical laughter waking you up for a moment and... and— Wait!

God fucking damn, did Bruce Wayne carry you up the elevator and to your apartment, or was that just a very vivid, very bizzare, utterly ridiculous dream?

It had to be. In what world could that be real. Any of it? The note in your hand was a figment of your imagination, too. And Mr Wayne. The logical explanation was that none of it happened and you’d dreamed a drunken nightmare. No, you still were — dreaming. You had to be passed out on the balcony with Luca or something, alcohol poisoning finally taking its toll.

That had to be it.

It just had to be.

[Y/N] —

You’re lucky you’ve already quit, otherwise I might have had to fire you after last night.

There’s some water and medicine on your nightstand for the headache I’m sure you now have. If you’re managing to read this despite it, I truly am sorry to see you go. You must be a great accountant. Lucius seems to have noticed sooner. What a shame he did nothing to stop you from resigning.

You said some interesting things at the event. Or, at least, I’m sure it was all interesting. Please don’t fault me for not understanding a word of it. You see, I’m very stupid. It’s true that I bought my way into college. In fact, you’re right: I never did learn how to read. I’m going to go home and ask my butler what a librarian is.

You must be wondering how I’m writing this then. The thing is, I’m rich. I can do whatever I want. The pen has to move because I’m telling it to. It can’t afford being sued. My lawyers are really, really good.

I’m sure you have much more to say to me, [Y/N]. I may even begin to understand if you give me enough time to learn from you.

Tomorrow is Saturday. The office is closed. I’ll wake up at 7, Alfred will make me a smoothie, I’ll meditate, work out a bit. Then I’ll drink and fuck around. Not very interesting.

Certainly not as interesting as being shouted at by you.

There’s a nice little souvlaki place around the corner from your place. I saw the owner throw a piece of lettuce at a customer when we were driving by. I think he actually meant it as a friendly gesture. They were both laughing. Come with me on Saturday night? Maybe we can get a free piece of lettuce too. Or two, since it’ll be you and me.

I promise I’ll make it worth your while. You can continue to admonish me all you like. For hours and hours. Teach me what I can and can’t use my company credit card for, so the next poor accountant who deals with me after you doesn’t have to cry over it ever again. That was you, wasn’t it? I remember you now. I'm sorry about that... truly.

You know, now that I’m thinking about it, your shouting actually reminded me of my nanny when I was six years old. Not that she was ever drunk around me or anything. She just shouted a lot. She used to show that she loved me by calling me a vexing child. I think it was German for lovely, or something like that. Maybe cute?

Anyway, rest up, drink plenty of fluids. I can’t have you throwing up in the souvlaki shop, the owner might not like us then.

Respond using my business email. Don’t worry. I only give my number to people I’m looking to hook up with. Lucky for you, I just want to have souvlaki and learn how to read from you. So, no phone number for you.

Bring your best insults. I’ll enjoy them. You’ll enjoy them. Win-win.

So, come. Please.

Yours,

Bruce.

And it was your imagination, too, that you sent him that requested email.

In your imagination, you had to thank him for last night, after all.

It began with:

Dear Bruce, —

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pawnsandpantheons · 1 month

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Welcome to Pawns and Pantheons!

¹⁸⁺ . ᴰᵃʳᵏ ᶠᵃⁿᵗᵃˢʸ . ᶠᵃⁿᵗᵃˢʸ ᴴᵒʳʳᵒʳ . ᴵⁿᵗᵉʳᵃᶜᵗᶦᵛᵉ ˢᵘᵇ⁻ᵍᵃᵐᵉˢ . ᴬᵘᵗᵒᵐᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᴱᶜᵒⁿᵒᵐʸ ˢʸˢᵗᵉᵐ

Pawns & Pantheons is a dark fantasy ARPG (Art Roleplaying Game) welcoming to Artists, Writers, and those who simply wish to Roleplay. It is a setting over Fifteen Years in the making, and can best be described as a melting pot of settings such as Fromsoft and Berserk melded with the whimsy and mystique of a Studio Ghibli film.

You don't need to be able to draw or even be a confident writer to join, we welcome experienced artists and writers, and those who just need a welcoming space to start learning.

Come steer the fate of the world, create characters, enter a cycle of Death and Rebirth, complete quests, and become a playing piece on the chessboard of the Gods.

Sound interesting? Check out the rules below the cut! Alongside our Invite Link.

1. Be kind to one another please, this is meant to be fun. If you have an issue with another member, block em and move on. If someone blocks you please do not attempt to circumvent the block in any way.

2. If you have a problem, @ the mod role.

3. This is an 18+ server, do not lie about your age, please join us when you are an adult.

4. This setting has many dark things in it, and many dark topics will be explored. We do not have a blacklist of topics and we will never maintain one partially because I have memory issues and partially because I personally do not think they enhance servers in any way. If a topic comes up that you do not like, please quietly remove yourself from the conversation and join back in once the topic has passed, you do not need to announce you have left a conversation.

If you cannot handle dark topics being explored in a fictional setting this is probably not the ARPG for you, while I do not allow blatant uncensored sexual NSFW in the server in public roleplays things of various NSFW natures may be touched on, dark topics regarding sexuality, violence, toxic or unhealthy relationships both romantic and non, etc. In essence, the dark content here can be considered on level with media such as Berserk or Game of Thrones.

5. I will put TWs on plots regarding dark content, you will never be blindsided by things in plots if they fall under a common TW, if you need to know if a specific or unusual thing is touched on, ask me!

6. I do not police the relationships between people's OCs, what you do with your OCs, and what their relationships are is not my business or anyone but those OCs players, do not 'tattle' about what two players are doing with their characters to me. The answer will always be 'What happens between two fictional characters isn't my business if the players are consenting'

7. While I do not police OC relationships, but please keep sexual NSFW in DMs. Private room threads may go as far as a Fade to Black, but I don't want to be forced to moderate sexually explicit NSFW and I don't want my mods to have to. Violent NSFW or other NSFW may remain in the server.

8. If you read the rules pop a 🌹 emote into ⁠welcome to get your entry role.

9. Please do not resell items you received for free for real world currency, you may trade items for designs, other items, slots, etc, but not real currency.

7. Character references may have tasteful nudity.

8. If a mod asks you to drop a topic, please drop it immediately. Arguing about it will earn you a ban, I run this for fun, it's not a second job to me and I won't let it become one.

9. If you need help or don't understand something please let me and my team help you, we want you to have fun too, we don't bite and we aren't mean, just reach out.

10. No venting, we do not have a vent chat and never will.

11. Please keep selfies behind censors or censored links! Weird rule I know, I promise there's a reason for it though. You can leave pet pics or food pics uncensored however, no worries. DISCLAIMER

This is, first and foremost, a horror game with fantasy elements. The world is careless towards the troubles of its denizens at best and outright cruel at its worst, and its worst is its most common. While there are NPCs, plots, and overall moments that cut through the gloom as sparks of light, you should enter knowing that this is a Game that may be emotionally taxing if you are not the kind of person who likes near-relentless downers or who may be personally effected by bad things happening to your characters, whether physical, mental, or emotional. This is a game meant to be fun to people who derive enjoyment from putting their OCs through a horrific wringer and who delight in watching their characters suffer.

Which is not to say fun, funny, whimsical, beautiful things do not happen, that beautiful relationships don't blossom, and that close and tender moments between one's character and other characters, NPCs, or the world at large, do not happen, they absolutely do, but they are not the theme and are not constant, breathing room is often little and far between.

To use a TTRPG for example, many multiverse fantasy roleplays are a lot like DND, they're a fun power fantasy romp where the hero will almost always win in the end, where you can overcome any and every obstacle with self belief and friendship, where the Gods are on your side and if they aren't will surely be struck down, most games end with being paraded through the streets showered in gold, orphans find their parents miraculously alive or themselves miraculously adopted, and light always overpowers shadow.

P&P then is more like Trophy Dark, a grim, despairing, 'play to lose' game where the expected end goal is that the player will at best die, and at worst become something terrible and they will suffer and struggle all the way from the beginning, and where most of the light is just the end of an anglerfish's lure, a promise that only really resolves in more pain and devourment.

Further Tone examples: Dark Souls, Elden Ring, Berserk, When the Wind Blows, Plague Dogs, Watership Down if general Woundwort had Won, Undertale if it were the Genocide run every time forever, Neverending Story but it ends at the Swamp Scene, Shadow of the Colossus, Persona 3, Hollow Knight, Ori & The Blind Forest, Tale of Two Brothers, Dead by Daylight, Rainworld, The Road, Princess Mononoke, Pathologic, Fear & Hunger, Devilman Crybaby, Goodnight Punpun, Nier, Drakengard, Clannad After Story, What Remains of Edith Finch.

In essence, while I absolutely do not want to scare anyone off or make it sound worse than it is, I do want to keep people safe, if you don't find it fun to be cruel to your characters, if you have a hard time separating IC suffering from OOC suffering, you aren't going to enjoy your characters potentially being broken mentally|physically|emotionally, then I would encourage you to err on the side of caution and not join us for your own mental and emotional safety and wellbeing.

Ready to Go?

#ARPG #roleplay #roleplaying game #dark fantasy #horror fantasy #fantasy #writing #art #game #interactive game #Art Roleplaying Game #Art Role Playing Game

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theredcuyo · 10 months

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I just need to vent a bit-

So, its been a year and so now, isn't it?

It's curious to me how much Techno affected me even tho I wasnt one of his biggest fans at that time, and yet, I went thru some really, really hard times over this, and in some ways, I still am, up until recently I didn't feel the strength to watch his videos, up until recently even if I watched them I couldn't help but smile in a bittersweet way

Not too long ago I was finally able to laugh, to enjoy them again, to not think about how he's not here anymore while hearing his voice, and instead, have fun with what he left for us, and yeah, that's what everyone is been saying to do, but I'm sure I'm not the only one who struggled with actually doing it, because it IS hard, it's hard to not start to have fun and immediately remember "... He won't be doing this anymore now, huh?" and get sad all over again, even if we know he won't want us to still be crying

I got over it a week or so ago, I finally can watch the great potato war without sobbing for twenty minutes after watching it, and even if the grief won't go yet, I feel like im moving on, never leaving it all behind, but carrying the moments that made it hurt so much in first place, needless to say the happiest ones, in my heart, and overall, I'm full on energy, I've been inspired by him, by his all, like everyone, to do something, to give a meaning to what I do now, to be as strong as him-

And yet... The reason I write this is because of the grief left in me, I can't deny that whenever I go watch the qsmp streams a part of me can't help but wonder "wouldn't this have been so cool if Techno was here?, if he could've been here?"

I can't help but imagine him making fun of the eggs for practically being orphans, just to be forced to take care of one, can't help but imagine him immediately throwing one off of the wall, or maybe training Chayanne, and probably, growing to love Tallulah in a "I've had this child for five minutes, but in a anything happens to her I'll kill everyone in this server" kind of way

How he would tell Greek mythology stories to the eggs, but be the one person extremely against babysitting just to end up doing it a lot because of the insane amount of time he spends playing

Can't help but imagine how he would absolutely attempt presidential assassination against all the candidates and be completely against the federation without a doubt, and how he would've entered that dungeon left for them and absolutely destroyed it

Can't help but imagine Techno doing to forever the same thing he did whenever a baby zombie was near Philza

Can't help but wish the people who didn't get to know him outside of stories actually met him, and him talking to them with his bare knowledge of Spanish, and them reacting to the man himself talking about "blowing up a country" and "farming potatoes for +six months" or how "he once conquered the world" just to have them not believing it until Phil backed up the stories

Can't help but imagine a world where Tallulah didn't have to make an altar for him, and then i get back to reality to realize that... That's not the world where I live in, I live in the world where it's been more than a year since all of this possibilities became impossible and I feel genuinely hurt again, maybe more so over the thought of how much life he had ahead of himself, one that hurts me even more because he's the same age as my older brother

I like to wonder off in my mind sometimes, and imagine just for a bit of escapism, that he'd be giving Wilbur validation in his concerts, or that he would've bullied the life out of Dream when he did his face reveal, and also bullied Skeppy when he met up with bbh, or that he would've been in first line for Tommy's show

Technodad once mentioned on Reddit that Techno had been thinking of writing a story, and that too, would have been awesome to see, as much as all the plans he had and didn't get to do that I and all of his fans keep dreaming over

At the end, I think that the grief left in me, is over how much more time he should've had, over the future that we will never see

I'm sorry for this, I really just needed to vent, I don't want to sound disrespectful or anything really, just some thoughts I had inside of me and needed to get out, I'm sorry if it sounded weird or bad-

#technoblade #technoblade never dies #i miss him #i miss technoblade #i miss techno so much #i miss the time when everything was fine and i didnt had to feel like writting this #vent post

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lucaderossi · 11 months

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ꕀ ᐝ 𖠳 luke pasqualino, cis man, he/him 𖠳 ᐝ ꕀ ‷ heads up ; if you hear that’s amore by frank sinatra blaring, it’s most likely luca de rossi making their way down the shore ! they’re 30 years old and celebrate their birthday on 06/28 - i knew they were a cancer! especially since they’re very exuberant and grandiose. they are from brooklyn, new york, staying in the cove and are currently working as a head chef/co-owner of the boiler room, here at the cape. they always did remind me of tailored suits, pasta puttanesca and a large glass of chianti, and unwavering family loyalty.‷

GENERAL INFORMATION

Full Name: Luciano Giovanni ‘Luca’ De Rossi Nicknames: Luc, Ciano, Lulu (reserved for Nonna + his nieces) Age: 31 years old Birthdate: June 28, 1992 Birthplace: Brooklyn, New York Current Residence: The Cove | Cape May, New Jersey Gender/Pronouns: Cis-Man | He/Him Sexual Orientation: Bisexual Relationship Status: Single Occupation(s): The Boiler Room (Co-Owner + Head Chef)

APPEARANCE

Faceclaim: Luke Pasqualino Hair: Dark Brown Eyes: Chestnut Height: 6'2" | 188 cm. Weight: 175 lbs. | 79 kg. Build: Athletic Complexion: Olive skin, with rich golden undertones Accent: American English/Brooklyn Spoken Languages: Italian + English (fluent) | French (conversational) Tattoos: 4 | An oak tree on his left breastplate, with the names of his immediate relatives on his right breastplate; a cursive quote on his back shoulder (Aut viam inveniam aut faciam | I shall either find a way or make one); the coordinates of his grandparent’s village in Palermo across his inner right arm; an oversized set of rosary beads across his back, with the Virgin Mary in the center and a crucifix at the bottom. Piercings: None. Scent: Sandalwood, Vanilla, and Mint Oil

PERSONALITY

Positive Traits: Charismatic, Exuberant, Loyal Negative Traits: Capricious, Impulsive, Materialistic Likes: Pasta, dinners with Nonna, football, Italian leather, vintage suits Dislikes: Birds, cheap wine, pineapple pizza, being away from family Fears: FOMO, heights, the safety/well-being of his relatives Zodiac: Cancer Sun, Taurus Moon, Leo Rising Hogwarts House: Gryffindor MBTI: ESTP | The Entrepreneur Enneagram: 8 | The Challenger Moral Alignment: Neutral Good Temperament: Choleric Labels: Benevolent Boss | Chronic Hero Syndrome | Hidden Depths

BACKGROUND (TL;DR VERSION)

The youngest of 5, and the only son among them, Luca’s birth had been regarded as a miracle, and he was showered with endless familial affection the second he entered the world

Born at the height of the Colombo Family wars, Luca spent the first few years of his life in Florida with his mother, sisters, and a host of extended family members

He doesn’t remember much from that time, apart from the old photos and shared stories, particularly from Nonna and his great aunts, both of whom are equally colorful and animated in their recollections

Returning at the end of the decade, Luca spent the remainder of his formative years in the heart of Little Italy, a place he will forever regard as his home

During this time, Luca garnered a growing interest for the culinary arts; it is one that he would continue to cultivate into his adolescence, and eventually his adult years — given his lineage and the location of his upbringing, it was hardly unexpected, and practically inevitable

Despite a persona and predispositions that might indicate otherwise, Luca was not raised in the lap of luxury; he is well-acquainted with the realities of struggling to get by, and the experience is one that motivates to do well for himself, and for his family (for his success is theirs, just as much as it is his own)

Pursuing an education at the famed Auguste Escoffier School of Culinary Arts, Luca has worn just about every hat there is to wear, professionally speaking: from Server to Sous Chef, Prep Cook to Pastry Chef — you name it, he’s done it (the same can also be said of his private life, though that is another affair entirely)

While he has quite enjoyed his status as a world-traveling connoisseur (as well as all the perks that accompany such a vocation), he currently resides in Cape May, finding success in his entrepreneurial pursuits at The Boiler Room. It has been a challenging endeavor, playing the part of co-owner, head chef, and all of the duties that accompany these roles, the effort has been equally rewarding, particularly being in such close proximity to his family, new/old friends, and settling into a life of substance and satisfaction.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

Can be found here!

#cape.intro #// going to post this before tumblr deletes it again :')#// will update the rest properly tmrw!

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feminist-space · 2 years

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""Network's Down" or The epic saga of Satan's Accountant

This is one of my favourite stories from r/talesfromtechsupport originally posted by u/Ravenlunatic

Note: The acronym CPA stands for Certified Public Accountant. I'll try to annotate any technical terms as we go.

______________________________________________________________

[Part one - New accounting manager's first day on the job was a bad sign of things to come.](https://www.reddit.com/r/talesfromtechsupport/comments/2hx5sd/new_accounting_managers_first_day_on_the_job_was/)

So we get a new Accounting Manager, and I was asked by HR to show her some of the IT ropes, introduce her to how to access various things on her PC and verify she's setup and ready to go. This is SOP [Standard Operating Practice] so no biggie, it's her first day on the job, as an ACCOUNTING MANAGER (position is key).

So after getting everything setup, and showing her VPN, email, file server, etc.... I asked if she had any more questions, she said no, and I said if you need anything let me know. She seemed pleasant enough.

About 2 hours later, I'm at my cube when she stops by and says "I need help, can you come swing by as soon as you can, it's urgent".

I say "no problem, give me a few minutes and I'll be down." She lost some of pleasantness and left seemingly upset I didn't take off after her.

A few minutes later, I poke my head in her office and ask her what's wrong.

Her: "My desktop calculator isn't working" (it was one that required power, printed the numbers out on the receipt paper).

Me: "Is it plugged in?"

Her "You tell me"

I look, clearly the plug is just laying there on the ground.

Me ³"Doesn't look like it, there's the plug"

Her "Okay" waiting for me to plug it in...

Me "It should work when you plug it in"

Her (audible sigh) "I'm just terrible with those kinds of things"

Me "Just put the plug in the outlet, it's just like a lamp at home"

Her "Seriously? This is IT stuff"

Me "It's a electric adding machine, if you plug it in and it doesn't work talk to the office manager and she can order you a new one"

I just walked away, that was the start of so many things to come....

______________________________________________________________

[Part two - Satan's CPA "NETWORK's DOWN!"](https://www.reddit.com/r/talesfromtechsupport/comments/2hzx1x/satans_cpa_networks_down/)

[Note: from this point on the person in part one is named SCPA (Satan's CPA)]

This lady worked for us for a 1 year and 1/2 or so, and made my (IT) life miserable. There was never a single incident that topped day one, but her approach to IT was less than professional. I'll do my best to sum up her time with a few stories in TFTS. It does ultimately end well for me.

So about a week goes by and I don't hear much from SCPA, and I'm thinking maybe she was just nervous on her first day. Then it happens, and this would be recurring nails across the chalkboard screeching that would happen more times than I care to remember.

SCPA very loudly from her office addressing no one in particular: "NETWORK'S DOWN!"

Our office is fairly small, but big enough you'd have to be quite loud for your voice to carry from Accounting Dept to IT Dept.

I think, oh crap. What's wrong? I immediately start checking systems before I go to investigate, we hadn't any major outages in years and sure enough everything is up. So I make my way to her office.

Me: "What's wrong?"

SCPA: "Network's down, nothing is working"

Me: "I just checked and asked around before stopping here, everything is working, what can't you get to?"

SCPA: "Look, my email isn't working" click click, bang bang "see nothing, it's not getting email and i know my husband sent me an email"

So I look at it and it looks like she just minimized the password window which is required and she was told about.

Me: "You need to enter your password, you can't just close this window"

She does and emails populate and she goes back to work and says nothing.

For the remainder of her time here this is how she would report any PC issues: "NETWORK'S DOWN!" Not a single time did the network ever go down. So after several months of this, I decide to address her approach as her team is starting to pick up on her attitude towards IT and our rep is starting to go down with management due to "Network Downtime"

SCPA: "NETWORK'S DOWN!"

I don't even check the systems, and begrudgingly walk down to see her.

Me: blank stare "what is it?"

SCPA: "I can't get into online accounting system, again"

Me: "Last time it was due to a bad link from an email, is the link right?"(yes, she actually complained the network was down, because a bad hyperlink in an email)

SCPA: "Yeah, link is fine, here's the website I can't get in, there is a problem with the network, there's always a problem with the network, I need to be able to work, that's all I want to do"

Me: "The network is fine and has been fine, let's see what's going on". Turns out she was locked out of her account due to failed login attempts. I request a password reset and boom she's in. Now time to address her approach to IT

Me: "SCPA, Listen, when you have an IT issue, can you please submit a ticket to our helpdesk, or shoot me an email, IM, or even stop by? Shouting network down is kind of causing a disruption and it causes people to stop working because they think something is wrong and it's even affecting your team"

SCPA: "If the system worked, I wouldn't need to complain, I can't help it, I have a lot of stuff to do, and when I can't work, it's frustrating, and "my team" (she did air quotes) needs info from me. If I can't get work done, they can't get work done, hence "network's down" (second air quotes)

Me: Sigh "Please just open a ticket, that way we can track our "network down" (I used air quotes. :) ) issues to see what can be done"

That was my life for the next year or so, I had to create a spreadsheet to log every "network's down" issue. This proved useful later on.

______________________________________________________________

[Part three - Missed Deadlines](https://www.reddit.com/r/talesfromtechsupport/comments/2i0m6n/satans_cpa_accounting_team_keeps_missing/)

After a few months, there is an obvious strain on the relationship between IT and Accounting. We went from a professional group to a bunch of finger pointers, users are no longer creating tickets for Tier 1 help (password resets, printer issues, etc....) and there is just a bunch of complaining.

I also start noticing a trend: I'm getting overwhelmed with "I can't get my work done, I have a huge project due today and the system is down" from that team.

We have a helpdesk for a reason, there are going to be issues that need to be taken care of, however if you don't report them for 3 weeks and only decide to mention the day your work is due...yeah, that's a problem.

SCPA email to CFO/Raven/Raven's boss: "Raven, for the 4th period in a row Huey/Louie/Dewey have not been able to turn in work on time due to issues with IT. This can't continue to happen as I need their work to submit to CFO which has continued to be turned in late as a result. What can be down to fix this? WE CANNOT CONTINUE TO WORK LIKE THIS!"

CFO (reply all) "Raven, I have noticed this as well. Is our network being maxed out with everyone accessing at once? The last few months in general there seems to have been quite a few network issues" /headdesk

Raven's boss(reply all) "CFO, in terms of the network that has not been the case at all. Raven can offer more detail. In terms of the system being maxed out, i don't believe that is the case either, Raven can offer more detail"

Me (reply all): Attached is a spreadsheet offering detail on every "unofficially" reported network downtime. Please note that the network has not gone down even once. There appears to be some confusion between a network/service outage vs an enduser issue. Also attached are the official reported Helpdesk cases. Note: no downtime. In regards to systems seemingly going down or being inaccessible during key times, I believe this to be self inflicted by the end users. They wait weeks on end before reporting that they can't "access a system" and come running over to me for help, when I ask "when did this start", it's always "I haven't been able to access for weeks", but they're just telling me today because they need it. We can't fix what we don't know is broken or reset PWs we don't know are forgotten. SCPA, if you can please remind your team to reach out to our HD [Help desk] when an issue is noticed immediately, this will likely result in less late projects. Our network can handle the workload.

SCPA reply to Raven's boss/CFO: This isn't really acceptable to point the finger back our way. My team does not do what he described. The network is constantly down, and he conveniently leaves off any real issues on that wasted spreadsheet.

(My boss forwarded me the email)

Boss's email to CFO/SCPA: We'll continue to monitor.

______________________________________________________________

[Part four: The setup, the delivery, and Satan's CPA provides the payoff.](https://www.reddit.com/r/talesfromtechsupport/comments/2i3hhv/the_setup_the_delivery_and_satans_cpa_provides/)

So after the last email, things quiet down to some degree. SCPA's attitude and behavior doesn't change much, but the email blasts die off and I pretty much determine that this is how work will be, I'm not getting any flak from my boss or CFO so I'm not stressing it. Then it happens.

CFO: "I just received an email indicating there is a new version of our Document Management Software (DMS) available, can we upgrade?"

Me: "I'll look into it, shouldn't an issue"

I should mention that our CFO was the one who instituted the DMS, he relies on it heavily and expects his accounting team to use it daily for everything for auditing purposes/version control, etc...

I should also mention that we've upgraded the DMS in the past, but it's kind of a pain because it requires that I or the HelpDesk physically update (no central deployment) the client on every users' PC as client version has to match the server version otherwise they can't connect. "WAIT A SECOND"...If I upgrade the server, inform the CFO of the scenario, and then SCPA and her team do what I say they've been doing then..."nah, that's too perfect, that won't happen"

Me: email to all Corp employees: "Next Fri 10/13, we will be upgrading our DMS to provide totally new and cool features. It's important to note that after we update the server, we have to physically update the client on your machine or your DMS WON'T WORK. The update requires you to be logged in with your active profile and a reboot. On Mon 10/15 at your earliest convenience contact the HD or myself to get updated. DMS will not be accessible until your PC is updated. If you have any concerns please let me know"

As expected no one emails me.

10/13 Fri evening

Me: "CFO, everyone is gone and if it's okay with you and you're out of DMS I'm going to start the upgrade"

CFO: "Yup, I'm good, go for it"

Me: "As I mentioned, I have to update the client on everyone's PC or they can't login to DMS. It won't work until I do so, including yours" I give him a look hoping he gets what I'm implying

CFO: "Understood." He does.

DMS upgraded, have a lovely weekend, time to go back to work early Monday morning for a long day of client upgrades

Week 1: Early Monday morning I get 1 email asking to be upgraded, it's from the CFO. Before I upgrade him, I show him the error people will get if they try to access the DMS "Client Server Version Mismatch" I upgrade him and he's good.

That's the only upgrade I do that day, I check the HD cases, no upgrades. I go the entire week without updating a single client DMS.

Week 2: Upgrade requests 0

Week 3: Upgrade requests 2: Huey and Louie request an upgrade(good for them)

Week 4: Upgrade requests 10 (all placed within about 10 min of each other, the HD manager informs me)

So at this point I'm expecting "NETWORK'S DOWN!" Nope.

SCPA email to CFO/Raven's Boss/Raven/Her Team (marked urgent): "CFO, as I've noted, we continue to have multiple IT issues. Today, I'm unable to run the reports you require due to DMS outage. I've attached a screen shot (Client/Server Mismatch) so Raven can update his spreadsheet. I'm not sure how we can continue to operate this way as a business. I've never seen an IT system with so many issues. Once DMS issue is resolved, I'll do my best to get the reports to you as quickly as possible but they will be late, but that is beyond my control!"

Wait, did that really just happen, I read that wrong. Let me read that again. Yup. By the time, I finished reading it a 2nd time and before I or my boss could reply:

CFO email to Raven/Raven's boss: "Don't respond or update her PC, I'll handle."

Seconds later, I see the CFO walking by my cube and into her office and closes the door. I don't know exactly what was said (no, she wasn't fired), but the next 5ish months at work were absolute bliss. Not a single "NETWORK'S DOWN". Miraculously SCPA's team started opening cases with the HD. I had nearly 5 months of basically no interaction with them, everything was great until:

SCPA: "NETWORK'S DOWN!"

Apparently SCPA had put in her 2 weeks notice and planned on reverting to old ways.

No, this is not where this tale ends.......

_____________________________________________________________

[Part five: Satan's CPA did sign the BYOD Policy from HR.](https://www.reddit.com/r/talesfromtechsupport/comments/2i46ss/satans_cpa_did_sign_the_byod_policy_from_hr/)

[Note: BYOD means "bring your own device". In this context it means that staff can use their own phone for work purposes.]

All good things must come to an end.

Did I mention SCPA had a cell phone? No? Well to be fair, up until now it wasn't really relevant. It's relevant now.

We basically have 3 different options when it comes to cell phones.

Option1: We issue a new number on corp plan (number is owned by company).

Option2: You can use personal phone number, we'll reimburse monthly provided you fill out the forms (you own the number)

Option3: We agree to assume financial responsibility of your personal cell number and put it on our corporate account and provided we part ways amicably we'll release the number back to you (this is done by those that want us to pay for the number, but don't want to hassle with reimbursement requests.)

She went with option 3, signed the BYOD policy regarding this.

It's SCPA's last day and she is finishing up doing whatever it is she does, and the CFO stops by:

CFO: "At 5pm today, can you please terminate SCPA's access to all systems, however we've made an arrangement with her to keep her cell number on our corp account until she is able to get switched over, she has 2 weeks to complete this. During this time she's agreed to answer any questions we may have about anything she was working on"

Me: "Okay" I get her personal account information, formally release the number. All she has to do at this point is contact Verizon and the number is hers. I set my Calendar.

Fast forward 2 weeks, I come into the office fire off the email to Verizon Support: "Please cancel (666)666-6666" If SCPA did what she was supposed to, I'll get an email back stating this number isn't on my account and the request can not be completed.

VZ Support: "Your request has been processed." - oh crap. here we go.

About 2 hours later

Reception: "Raven, SCPA is on the phone, do you want to talk to her"

Me: "Yup"

SCPA (from her Husband's cell): "MY PHONE ISN'T WORKING! I'm travelling and I need it"

Me: "It's been 2 weeks, I was told to send the cancellation request. The number has been cancelled" I hear her take a deep breath, I think she's grasping the situation.

SCPA: "WHAT!?!? You cancelled it, you can't do that, you need to get the number back. I need my phone."

Me: "Sorry, the request was already processed, the number is likely gone"

SCPA apologetically: "Oh no. I will request the transfer today, I didn't realize it had been so long, I'm so sorry, can you get it back"

Now anyone who has to deal with VZ enterprise knows that the consumer VZ dept and enterprise VZ dept don't exactly play well together. While I could probably get her number reactivated, reauthorize the transfer and she could get it, it would require some additional effort. If not, that number goes back into the pool. So I shoot the CFO an IM.

Me: "SCPA never transferred her number and I cancelled it this morning now she is requesting we reactivate so she can get it back. Are we under any obligation to do so?"

CFO: "No."

Me: "SCPA, yeah, I'm sorry, it's already been processed, not much I can do, you can try to call them and see what they say"

SCPA: "This can't be, is there any-"

Huey is now standing at my desk. Me:"Hang on SCPA" -mutes phone

Huey: "I can't login into SAP, when you're done with your call can you help?"

Me: "Sure, give me a sec" unmutes phone.

Me: "Sorry SCPA, network's down. I gotta go." - click.

THE END.

*I am not the OP. The OP is u/Ravenlunatic*

Edit: updated with links to the original posts."

https://www.reddit.com/r/BestofRedditorUpdates/comments/x0z0cr/networks_down_or_the_epic_saga_of_satans/

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