#And it's probably terrifying at the start for him

[eu-nicola]

best secret

summary: while the Pogues are searching for the gold, you're left behind, trapped with your abusive father. when Rafe discovers what's going on, he steps in to save you. when the Pogues return and discover your relationship with Rafe, tensions boil over

warnings: violence, confrontation

word counter: 4384

author's note: english is not my first language

this is a request from @tracymbcm

The lights of Tannyhill shone brightly in the distance, like a beacon illuminating everything perfectly.

You were in the backyard of Tannyhill, sitting on a stone table that probably cost more than your entire house. The night was warm, but you still felt a slight chill running through your skin. It could be from the air or from the presence of Rafe Cameron, leaning against a column, looking at you with that smile that made your chest tighten in ways you didn’t want to admit.

“If JJ knew about this, he would kill me.” Your voice broke the silence, a mix of nerves and sincerity in your words.

Rafe raised an eyebrow, his smile widening, but his eyes never left yours.

“If JJ knew about this, he would have been dead for months.” His tone was light, as if he said it in jest, but you knew that look. He wasn’t joking.

You should have laughed, maybe even responded with a scathing comment, but the truth was that the idea of ​​JJ finding out what you were doing terrified you. How could you explain to him that after years of swearing that you hated Rafe Cameron as much as he did, you had ended up here, seeing him in secret?

“Why are you doing this, Rafe?” you asked, abruptly changing the subject. You had thought about that question many times, but you had never dared say it out loud.

Rafe stopped smiling, slowly pushing himself off the column as he made his way towards you. Each step he took seemed to charge the air around you. When he reached your side, he leaned in slightly, just enough for his intense, direct blue eyes to catch yours.

“Because with you I don’t have to pretend.”

The words hit something deep inside you, leaving a crack in your carefully constructed defenses. You looked at him, searching for any trace of lying or manipulation, but all you found was honesty, raw and unvarnished.

“That doesn’t make it any less complicated.” You tried to make your voice sound firm, but there was a slight tremor that betrayed everything.

He tilted his head, his expression softening a little.

“And that’s why you’re still here? Despite everything.”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Because the truth was, no matter how hard you tried to get away, you always ended up coming back. Something about Rafe dragged you along, like a current you couldn’t avoid.

He moved closer, his hand finding your waist with an ease that made you catch your breath.

“Look at me.” His voice was low, almost a whisper, but charged with intensity.

You obeyed, even though every part of you screamed not to. His eyes seemed to pierce through you, seeing parts of you no one else had noticed.

“Do you know what happens to me when you’re not around?” he asked, his tone so serious that you felt a lump forming in your throat. “It’s like everything is… empty again. You make it all make sense.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and suddenly the space between you felt nonexistent.

“Rafe…” you started, but he cut you off, shaking his head as his forehead brushed yours.

“Don’t say you don’t feel it too.”

And you didn’t. You couldn’t. Because you did. You had felt it from the first moment his lips touched yours weeks ago, from the instant he looked at you as if you were more than just a Pogue.

This time, you were the one who closed the distance. The kiss started slow, as if you were both afraid of breaking something fragile, but soon it became more urgent, more desperate. Your hands found his neck as he pulled you closer, as if he feared you might disappear at any moment.

In that instant, everything disappeared: the Pogues, JJ, the Kooks, the consequences you knew would fall upon you. Nothing else mattered. Just Rafe and you.

When you finally broke apart, you were both breathing heavily. Rafe leaned against your forehead, his hands still firm on your waist.

“Regretful?” he asked with that lopsided smile that always disarmed you.

“Not yet.” Your voice was more confident than you expected, though deep down you knew that answer could change.

Rafe let out a soft laugh, running a finger through a loose strand of your hair.

“You’re braver than you think, Pogue.”

“And you’re more of an idiot than you let on.”

Rafe was still so close that you could feel the heat of his body as he pulled away slightly, his fingers still absentmindedly playing with a strand of your hair. His smile grew softer, less teasing, and for a moment it seemed like there was something else on his mind.

“I have an idea,” he said suddenly, his voice low, as if he was afraid to break the moment.

“What kind of idea?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Rafe stepped back, crossing his arms as he looked at you with a mix of expectation and excitement.

Rafe stepped back, crossing his arms as he looked at you with a mix of anticipation and excitement.

“Tomorrow. You and me. A real date.”

That took you by surprise. Even though you’d been seeing each other on the sly for weeks, the thought of something as formal as a date hadn’t crossed your mind. Was it even possible? Your lips curved into a small smile.

“And how do you propose we do that without JJ or the guys deciding to kill you?”

Rafe shrugged, his expression confident as ever.

“You’re running away. You’ve done it before.”

“Rafe…” you started, even though you already knew you’d end up agreeing.

“Trust me. It’ll be perfect.” His eyes were shining, as if he was already imagining what it would be like. He took another step towards you and placed his hands on your hips, leaning in just enough so that his lips were just a few inches from yours. “Just you and me. No one else.”

You sighed, as if you were considering your options, but in reality your decision was made from the moment you looked into his eyes.

“Okay,” you finally relented, your voice laced with a mix of excitement and resignation.

Rafe’s smile widened.

“Meet me at Figure Eight Harbor, just before sunset. Bring something comfortable.”

“Any other directions, Mr. Cameron?” you asked, arching an eyebrow in a sarcastic tone.

Rafe leaned in and gave you a quick kiss, barely a brush, before pulling away.

“Just don’t be late.”

You watched him walk away toward the house, his steps confident and relaxed. When he turned around for the last time, he gave you a look and a smile that made your stomach turn.

That night, as you made your way back to your house, you couldn’t help but imagine what the date would be like. With Rafe, nothing was ever easy, but there was something about the way he looked at you, how he seemed to want to show you a different world, that made it worth the risk.

The next morning the morning sun streamed through the windows of your room, bathing the walls in a warmth that would normally have comforted you. But this time, you were too excited to pay attention to the small details. Today was the day. A date with Rafe Cameron.

You had woken up early, your heart racing and a smile that seemed impossible to erase. The pogues were away, completely absorbed in their quest for gold. With them gone, sneaking off to meet up with Rafe seemed easier than ever. Without JJ hovering like a hawk and Sarah suspecting a thing, you could finally relax and enjoy some alone time with him without the constant fear of being discovered.

You spent the day getting everything ready. You picked out comfortable clothes, like Rafe had suggested, but also something you knew he would appreciate: a light, simple dress that fell softly over your legs and sandals that would allow you to move around without any problems. You had tied your hair up in a carefree way, leaving a few strands loose to frame your face. You didn’t want to look overdressed, but you also couldn’t help but want to impress him. 

By the time it was time to leave, the plan seemed perfect. You just had to avoid your father, something you usually managed with ease when he was deep in his own problems. With the guys gone and his attention divided between the television and the empty beers piling up on the table, there was no reason for this time to be any different. 

Or so you thought. 

As you walked down the stairs, holding a small bag in your hand, Luke’s raspy voice echoed from the living room. 

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” “I’m just going for a walk,” he asked, his bloodshot eyes fixed on you.

You froze on the spot, your fingers clenching your bag tightly. You knew you couldn’t tell him the truth, but you hadn’t prepared an excuse either.

“I’m just going for a walk,” you said, trying to sound casual as you avoided his gaze.

Luke stood up from the couch with a jerk, his body swaying slightly, and you realized immediately that he was drunk. Again.

“Going for a walk?” he repeated, his tone full of mockery. “You’re not as smart as you think, kid. Do you really think you can get away without me knowing?”

Your heart began to beat faster. You tried to stay calm, but you knew how these things ended.

“It’s no big deal, Dad. I’m just going for a walk, that’s all.”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid.” His voice rose a pitch, and the thud of a bottle falling to the floor made you take a step back. His eyes narrowed as he looked you up and down. “Why are you all dressed up? Huh? Who are you going to see?”

“No one,” you lied quickly, but your voice shook, and that only seemed to make him angrier.

Luke took a step towards you, and the air in the room became heavy, suffocating.

“You’ve always been a liar, just like your mother.” His words were venom, and the contempt in his voice made you clench your fists at your sides. “What? You think you can just walk away and leave me here like I don’t exist?”

Fear began to creep its way into your chest, but you didn’t let it show on your face. You had learned to hide it well, to survive moments like this.

“I’m not leaving anyone, Dad. I just want to get out for a bit.”

“DON’T MOVE!” he suddenly shouted, slamming the table so hard that the noise echoed throughout the house.

Your body tensed, your feet rooted to the ground. You stared at the door for a moment, calculating if you could escape, but you knew he would reach you before you could even turn the knob.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he growled as he approached, his steps firm and heavy. “Always doing whatever you want, always thinking you’re better than me.”

Every word out of his mouth was like a blow, but the real blows began soon after. He threw a glass against the wall, just inches from where you stood, and the sound of glass breaking made you instinctively step back.

“Dad, stop.” Your voice was low, but firm, even though inside you were shaking.

“STOP?” He laughed bitterly. “Don’t tell me what to do. You’re nobody to give me orders!”

You felt a lump in your throat, helplessness mixing with the pain of knowing there was no way to reason with him in this state. All you wanted was to get out of that house, get to the port, and be with Rafe, away from all of this. But with every passing second, it seemed more impossible.

Finally, you took advantage of a moment when he was distracted looking for another bottle to try and move towards the door. But when Luke noticed, his face twisted into a mix of fury and contempt.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he growled as he blocked your way.

You were trapped. And as time continued to tick, you felt the chance to see Rafe slip through your fingers.

Away from you, as time passed, and there was no sign of you. Rafe first thought maybe you were late, but as the sun began to set completely, worry began to settle in his chest.

“Where are you?” he murmured, looking at his phone. He had texted twenty minutes ago, but you hadn’t responded. You hadn’t read the text either. 

Rafe knew something was wrong. Even though your relationship was a secret, you had never missed a date without notice, and the thought of something stopping you made him more uneasy than he was willing to admit. His jaw tightened as he climbed into his truck. No matter what the reason was, he was going to find you. 

He drove straight to your house, or as he silently called it, “Pougeland.” The Maybank home wasn’t in the best condition, and Rafe hated every second you spent there, especially because of Luke. He had heard enough about the man to know he wasn’t someone to be trusted, and the thought of you being alone with him infuriated him. 

As he approached the entrance, the sound of shouting from inside the house made his heart skip a beat. He didn’t need to confirm who they were; He recognized your voice, full of fear, and Luke's, in an angry and aggressive tone. He quickened his pace towards the door, and just as he was about to enter, he heard the sound of something breaking.

“Dad, stop!” Your voice came through clearly, desperate and scared.

That was enough for Rafe to act. He pushed the door open, the frame creaking from the force, and what he saw filled him with anger. Luke was on top of you, holding your arm as you tried to free yourself. Your face was marked, with the trace of a recent blow, and your eyes reflected both pain and terror.

“Let go of my girlfriend right now, motherfucker!” Rafe roared as he launched himself at Luke without a second thought.

Rafe’s presence startled Luke enough for him to loosen his grip for a moment, and you managed to stagger back to the side. Rafe didn’t give you time to react. He landed a punch straight to the jaw that sent him tumbling backwards, but Luke quickly recovered, attempting to strike back. 

“What the hell are you doing here, brat? It’s none of your business!” Luke shouted, furious as he tried to grab Rafe. 

“It is when you’re hurting her!” Rafe shoved him hard against the wall, his rage igniting like an uncontrollable fire. 

The two men grappled, but Rafe had the upper hand. Though Luke tried to punch him, he was too drunk to be effective. Rafe eventually tackled him to the ground, pinning him down with one knee as he gasped for air. 

“If you touch her again, I’ll kill you,” Rafe snapped in a cold, deadly voice. 

Luke let out a bitter laugh, but didn’t get a chance to respond. Rafe dropped him on the ground, unconscious from one last blow, and turned to you.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice much softer now, though his eyes still glittered with fury.

You were shaking, leaning against the wall, tears rolling down your cheeks. You nodded weakly, but Rafe saw clearly that you weren’t okay. Without another word, he picked you up, ignoring your weak protests, and carried you to his truck.

“Rafe, you don’t have to do this…” you murmured, but your voice cracked.

“Yes, I do have to,” he replied, his jaw set as he carefully placed you in the passenger seat.

He drove straight to the hospital, his hands gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles turned white. When they arrived, Rafe insisted that you be checked out, and while the doctors made sure you had no serious injuries, Sheriff Shoupe arrived to take a report.

At first, you were reluctant to speak, but Rafe stayed by your side, holding your hand as you recounted what had happened. It was difficult, but every time you hesitated, Rafe looked at you with that mix of determination and tenderness that made you feel stronger.

Finally, Shoupe nodded, closing his notebook.

“We’ll do whatever it takes to keep Luke from bothering you again. I’ll send a team to arrest him right now.”

Rafe let out a sigh of relief, though he still seemed tense. He helped you out of the hospital, and when you finally climbed back into his truck, the silence between you was charged but comforting.

“Thanks, Rafe,” you murmured, barely audibly.

He turned his head toward you, his expression softening for the first time all night.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he said, his voice low but firm. “I’ll always be here for you. Always.”

The days following the incident at your house were a whirlwind. After Rafe’s intervention, you’d spent more time with him than ever before. Though you’d tried to reach out to the guys, you knew they were too busy with their obsession with gold to really pay attention. On the one hand, you felt guilty for keeping secrets from them, but on the other, it hurt that they weren’t there when you needed them most.

Rafe, on the other hand, wouldn’t leave your side. After what had happened with Luke, he’d insisted that you stay at one of the Cameron properties, a place where he knew you’d be safe. Though it was strange to depend on him, you also felt more protected than ever.

When the Pogues finally returned, they were quick to notice your absence. JJ was the first to raise his voice.

“Where’s my sister?” “He asked, his tone tense as he walked down the dock.

Sarah, who had spent the last few weeks feeling guilty for leaving you behind, tried to calm him down.

“Maybe she’s at home, JJ. We can’t assume the worst.”

“Oh no? What if something happened to her while we were away looking for useless treasure?” he snapped, pointing at her.

“Easy there, buddy,” John B chimed in. “Let’s go find her and see what’s going on.”

Without wasting any more time, the Pogues hopped in the Twinkie and headed straight to your house. But when they arrived, they found the front door taped shut and the place completely empty. The sight stunned them.

“What the hell happened here?” Kiara muttered, crossing her arms as she looked at the mess.

JJ, furious, started pounding on the door with his fist.

“This doesn’t make sense!”

Sarah was the first to notice that something was out of place. From her perspective, something about the mess and the police tapes seemed familiar.

“I think this has to do with Luke,” she said quietly, looking around.

“My father?” JJ turned to her. “If that bastard did anything to him, I’ll kill him with my own hands!”

John B tried to calm him down, but it was clear that everyone was just as worried. They didn’t know where you were, and uncertainty was eating away at them.

Hours later, it was Sarah who finally found you. You were with Rafe, on a remote beach, leaning against his chest as he held you protectively. The rest of the guys arrived shortly after, stopping dead in their tracks at the sight.

“What…?” JJ was the first to react, his shocked expression giving way to uncontrollable fury. “What the hell are you doing with him?”

You pulled away from Rafe quickly, but he stayed by your side, his gaze fixed on JJ with a mix of defiance and warning.

“JJ, I can explain,” you said, but your voice was shaking.

“Explain it?” Kiara interjected, her face a mix of disbelief and disappointment. “We’re looking for you everywhere and you just happen to be here, cuddling with him!”

“How could you betray us like that?” JJ snapped, taking a step towards you. “He’s a fucking bully, a psychopath!”

“Stop it!” Rafe raised his voice, and everyone glared at him with hatred. His jaw was set, his eyes shining with suppressed fury. “While you guys were too busy on your fucking treasure hunt, I was here saving your sister from your fucking father!”

The silence that followed was deafening. The Pogues stared at him as if they couldn’t believe what they were hearing.

“What?” JJ asked, his tone lower, but still filled with distrust.

“Luke,” you finally said, your voice cracking as you tried to find the words. Luke… he attacked me.

“If I hadn’t gotten there in time,” Rafe continued, his voice sharp. “If I hadn’t been there, your father would have killed her.”

JJ’s expression changed drastically. It went from anger to fear, and then to pain as he processed what Rafe had just said.

“That can’t be true,” he muttered.

“It’s true, JJ,” you said, your voice barely audible. “Rafe saved me.”

The rest of the Pogues fell silent, processing the truth. Kiara looked down, while John B placed a hand on JJ’s shoulder. Sarah, who already suspected as much, simply nodded regretfully.

Rafe looked at you for a moment before turning his attention back to them.

“I don’t care what they think of me,” he said firmly. “But I’m not going to apologize for protecting her.”

The air between you was thick with tension, but this time, it wasn’t hatred that filled the silence. The Pogues didn’t say anything else, but the glances they exchanged confirmed that, as much as they hated to admit it, Rafe was right.

In the days that followed, although no one said anything directly, you could feel their gazes shifting away whenever Rafe accompanied you or when they mentioned something that might have to do with you. There were no more accusations or confrontations, but there was no open acceptance either. It was as if they had decided to ignore the subject entirely, something you were grateful for even though it hurt a little.

Rafe, for his part, remained unwavering. Despite the judgment he knew he was receiving, he never let it push him away from you. If anything, he seemed more determined than ever to prove to you that you could fully trust him.

One afternoon, as you sat on the porch of the house where you were now staying, Rafe drove up in his truck. He got out with a paper bag in his hand and that crooked smile you knew all too well.

“What do you have there?” “You asked, putting aside the book you had been pretending to read.

“Surprise,” he replied, walking over to you with an air of mystery.

Rafe sat down next to you and pulled out two wrapped burgers and a box of fries from the bag.

“I thought you might want something other than canned food,” he joked as he handed you one of the burgers.

You couldn’t help but laugh. It was a small gesture, but after everything that had happened, it meant a lot.

“You’re a hero,” you said with a smile before taking a bite of the burger.

You spent the rest of the afternoon talking about anything but the Pogues or Luke. Rafe seemed determined to keep you away from any topic that might make you uncomfortable, and you appreciated that more than you could put into words.

A few days later, as you walked with Rafe along the beach, you unexpectedly ran into Sarah. She was alone, sitting on the sand with her gaze lost in the horizon. Seeing you, she raised her hand in a shy greeting.

“Hey,” he said, his tone surprisingly soft.

Rafe braced himself beside you, clearly prepared for an argument, but Sarah didn’t seem interested in fighting.

“I just wanted to tell you that…” he paused, looking first at you and then at his brother. “Thank you. For being there for her.”

Rafe looked taken aback for a moment, but then nodded.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he replied in a neutral tone.

Sarah looked at you, and for the first time in days, you thought there was some warmth in her eyes.

“We… the guys and I… shouldn’t have judged you. It’s just that…” she sighed, rubbing her temples. “We didn’t expect something like this to be happening while we were gone.”

“I understand,” you said, though there was still a small wound in your chest from how you had been treated at first.

“But if you’re happy with him… then it’s okay,” Sarah continued, looking at Rafe with a mix of wariness and resignation. “Just… take care of her, okay?”

Rafe smirked. “I plan to do that.”

After that encounter, things began to change. The Pogues didn’t mention your relationship with Rafe anymore, and while not everyone was completely comfortable with the situation, they realized it wasn’t something they could control.

JJ was still the most distant, though he avoided any sarcastic comments when you were with Rafe. John B and Kiara seemed more neutral, and Sarah, though torn, slowly began to accept that Rafe was an important part of your life now.

Even though you knew there were still tensions with the Pogues and that life on the Outer Banks would always be complicated, at that moment, you felt like everything was where it needed to be. With Rafe by your side, you knew you could face whatever came next.

[amirasainz]

Can we please have more of little alonso? Like when she was born and nando holding her for the first time and the grid are confused where he is?

Or before the grid official meeting her, nanda showing them pictures of her and telling them about something cute she did.

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 💚

The newest dad on the grid

Fernando stepped into the paddock for the first time in weeks, his signature confident strut unchanged, but there was something different about him—an energy, a spark, a glow even. The break he had taken from the Formula 1 season to welcome his daughter had rejuvenated him in ways no victory lap could. The paddock, buzzing with its usual pre-race fervor, quieted as drivers spotted Fernando.

“Nando!” came a shout from Charles, who jogged over with a huge grin. “Welcome back! How’s... the baby?!” His face lit up like a kid waiting to hear about Christmas morning.

Max, never far from Charles, joined with a smirk. “Yeah, Fernando, how’s fatherhood treating you? You look—different. Happier, even.”

Fernando chuckled, patting both of them on the shoulders. “Ah, much better than any race, I can tell you that. Yn, my little girl, she’s perfect.”

George approached next, Lewis in tow. “Alright, alright, hold on,” George said, adjusting his perfectly tailored shirt. “Are we finally going to see pictures of this famous Yn? Because the way everyone’s been talking, she’s already an icon.”

“Wait, don’t start without me!” Lando called, sprinting over, followed by Oscar, Carlos, and Pierre. The group was forming faster than a DRS train on a straight.

Fernando, laughing at the commotion, pulled out his phone. “Okay, okay, calm down. Let me show you.” He unlocked the screen and turned it toward them. The photo he showed was of a tiny baby swaddled in a soft pink blanket, her big brown eyes staring up at the camera with curiosity and innocence.

“OH MY GOD,” Lando exclaimed, practically squealing. “She’s adorable!”

“Look at those cheeks!” Charles leaned in closer, his face nearly pressed against the screen. “She’s like a tiny angel! I bet you can't stop kissing them.”

“She has your eyes,” Lewis said softly, his warm smile matching the tone of his voice.

Fernando puffed out his chest, clearly basking in the praise. “She does, doesn’t she? And she already loves motorsport. When I hold her and talk about racing, she doesn’t cry. She just listens.”

Max snorted. “Fernando, she’s like two weeks old. She probably just likes your voice.”

“She’s already your biggest fan, mate,” Carlos interjected with a proud grin. “Don’t listen to Max.”

Fernando swiped to another photo. This time, Yn was asleep, her tiny fist wrapped around Fernando’s finger. The group collectively let out a chorus of “Awwww!”

“She’s so small!” Pierre said, his voice unusually soft. “Like, her hand is smaller than your finger! How do you even handle her without being terrified?”

“It’s instinct,” Fernando replied with a shrug, though the softness in his voice betrayed his own awe. “The moment I held her for the first time, everything clicked. She’s everything now.”

As Fernando flipped through more pictures—Yn in a tiny onesie with a Formula 1 logo, Yn sleeping on his chest during a nap—the drivers grew more animated.

“Does she have a favorite team yet?” Lando teased, nudging Carlos.

“Obviously Aston Martin,” Carlos quipped. “She knows where her dad is.”

Fernando raised a finger. “Actually, she smiles the most when I hum the Spanish anthem.”

“Of course she does,” George said with a laugh. “Your baby, your rules.”

“Does she cry a lot?” Oscar asked shyly.

“Only when she’s hungry or tired,” Fernando said proudly. “She’s very calm otherwise. I think she’ll grow up to be very composed, like her father.”

“Yeah, sure,” Max muttered under his breath, earning a playful shove from Lewis.

The group continued to coo over the photos, and even the normally reserved drivers couldn’t resist commenting. Esteban smiled as he observed from a distance but eventually joined in, congratulating Fernando.

“You should bring her to a race one day,” Charles suggested.

“Yeah,” Lando added enthusiastically. “Imagine a tiny Alonso in the paddock, stealing everyone’s hearts.”

Fernando grinned. “Maybe one day. But for now, she’s better off at home with her mamá. She needs to be calm, not surrounded by all this chaos.”

As the drivers dispersed, Fernando was left with a lingering feeling of warmth. The camaraderie of the paddock had always been special, but now, as a father, he felt it even more deeply. Yn wasn’t just his world; she had somehow become part of theirs too.

Later, during the drivers' press conference, a journalist asked Fernando how it felt to be back after his short break.

“It feels amazing,” he said, his smile unshakeable. “But not as amazing as being a father. Yn is my inspiration now. Every lap, every corner—I’m racing for her.”

The other drivers in the room exchanged knowing smiles. Fernando Alonso, the fierce competitor, had softened in the best possible way. Fatherhood suited him, and they were all here for it.

[alchemistc]

Everything's so damn dark when the blindfold slips off that for a second she can't see a thing.

Don't panic. Don't scream. Don't hurt the baby.

Something groans at her feet and she startles straight into the pipe behind her head.

"'lo?" A voice asks, familiar enough to give her pause, and she wonders for a moment if this is a joke, if this is a trick, if this - "s'there?"

His words are slurred. A concussion, maybe, then. Great. Biggest man she knows and he's gonna be a useless pile of puke to her.

Don't panic, Maddie reminds herself, and then she starts giggling.

"Tommy?"

He groans an affirmative.

"Oh good. I feel a lot better about getting overpowered, now."

A hand grabs for her ankle and Maddie bites back a scream. It's Tommy's hand, big and warm and - fully unbound, which feels a little unfair. "Cunt drugged me," he says, then pauses. Squeezes her ankle. "Sorry for the language."

"No, it's, uh - I think it's warranted this time."

Maddie can't remember exactly how it'd happened to her. Had she been hit? Is she injured? She does a mental tally. Her lip feels swollen. Nose and eyes feel fine, though, so maybe she bit it? Neck, shoulders, all good. She's been bending her elbows and wrists just fine, she just doesn't have the leverage to do anything about the zip ties keeping her affixed to the probably pipe behind her. Hips, legs, knees. She wiggles her toes and in the darkness Tommy chuckles. "Everything accounted for?"

He must have done his own check while she was working through hers. She can hear him rustling around. "I'm still incredibly mad at you, but it's nice to hear your voice," she says, and Tommy goes still. "Tommy? All good?"

"...why are you mad at me?"

"Like you don't know?" Oh. Actually maybe she is more mad than she is glad. "You broke my brother's heart, idiot. I don't have any more room in my entire house for the coping mechanism he's come up with." She kicks, a little. Tommy grunts and shifts. "I hope that hit something painful and non-essential to our escape."

"He's - he'll be fine."

"What exactly is your definition of fine? Because it's been a few months and he's still bringing me baked goods on a bi-weekly basis."

"Bi-weekly like -."

"Do not get pedantic on me, Kinard. Two times a week. What's your status? Moving parts all still moving?"

"I think my balls have taken a vacation, but that's more a reflection on how terrifying you are than on this current situation."

Flippant. Sarcasm in the face of Maddie trying to get a full picture. Buck had called him funny and charming. Maddie's second kick doesn't land, but only because he's got a hand wrapped around her foot. "Once we're out of here, I'm gonna punch you in the face."

He hums. "For the balls comment, or the cunt thing?"

Maddie shrugs. Remembers that he can't see it. "Which part of 'broke my brother's heart' are you not getting?"

He sounds like he's moving gingerly. She can hear heavy bulky fabric rustle and she wonders if he's in three layers like usual. She could use something warm. "I - figured he'd be over it by now."

Maddie snorts. If she had to make a guess, Tommy glowers at the noise. "Dumbass."

And then it hits her. "The cunt? Skinny, brunette, pretty? Kind of...angular face?"

Tommy hums and takes her weight as she tries to kick again. "Sounds like her."

"Oh, Buck's gonna be pissed and embarrassed. She's rebound attempt number two."

Tommy's silent long enough that Maddie has to check in. He hums, and goes back to silence. "Rebound attempt?"

"If you hadn't noticed, we've actually been kidnapped, so maybe I can save your relationship afterwards?"

"I think she was trying to kill me," Tommy admits. "Otherwise why am I unbound in this shitty Saw knockoff?"

Maddie feels some extra pieces dropping into place. Oh, Buck is never gonna live this down actually.

"Can you overpower her if she comes in?"

"If she's not quick to try to drug me again. If I can figure out where the fucking door is. If -."

"A yes or no is fine. Pretty sure she's the Bay Butcher, if that helps you answer."

His pause is long. "...maybe," he says, and accepts the kick this time without block or protest.

[cosyvelvetorchid]

Here’s a little Maddie and Tommy drabble 🩶

**********

Tommy was involved in a nasty helicopter crash back in his army days. Broke his leg in 3 places, 4 ribs, and enough bruises to fill an entire medical text book. He spent almost two months in hospital recovering, dealing with more pain he’d never thought humanly possible.

Yet he’d gladly take that pain again over the unbearable pain of the last 2 months after having his heart ripped from his chest.

Correction: from ripping his own heart from his chest.

Because that’s what he did. He ripped his own heart out as an act of self preservation. It felt like the correct choice for all of about 5 minutes.

He stopped the elevator from closing, ready to step back out towards Evan’s apartment. But he stopped. He let the doors close and let the elevator go down.

He turned off the engine after firing up his truck, ready to get back out and go back inside the building.

But he stopped.

He reached home and closed the door behind him then opened it again ready to get back in his truck and drive back to Evan’s.

But he stopped.

Each time that terrified part of his soul reminding him that he and Evan couldn’t be—he’d end up hurt in the long run.

Evan was wonderful. He was kind and thoughtful, sunnier than anybody Tommy had ever met.. but he wore rose tinted glasses when it came to Tommy; didn’t know the real him inside. The dark and traumatised parts of himself that he hadn’t shared, would be too much for someone like Evan to love.

He had to keep reminding himself of that. Reminded himself that Evan deserved better; deserved happiness and light and good, and Tommy? He wasn’t that. He’d never be that.

But it wasn’t easy. Not by a long shot. Despite Tommy’s effort , Evan had managed to burrow his way inside of his heart and settled in his warmth.

He’d lost count of how many times he’d picked up his phone, started worrying a message to him, then deleted it and put his phone back down.

He’d taken to keeping himself distracted. Every time he felt the urge to reach out he’d clean something. Never had his house ever looked so bright and shiny. Eventually he ran out of jobs to do at home and took his need for distraction to work.

He was fine when on the job; controlling his bird or putting out fires when doing ground work was an easy distraction. But the downtime was where Evan’s face would creep into his consciousness.

Their probie was left without much do to because Tommy had taken over the jobs usually reserved the person at the bottom of the ladder.

The helicopters were looking brand new, you could eat food directly from the kitchen floor—hell even the bathrooms hadn’t looked so clean since they’d had them renovated 6 years before.

Eventually he ran out of places to clean and resorted to cleaning the tools of the job. Every hose, every crow bar, even the mechanical tools in the maintenance hangar were getting 5 star treatment.

*

Tommy was in the maintenance hangar working on cleaning a set of wrenches. Every groove got its own special treatment, every scratch getting buffed out. The team had learnt quickly after the break up to leave him be unless it was work related.

“Tommy?” A soft voice came from behind him.

“Lucy, I told you I’m fi-“ he turned to face her only to be surprised to not be looking at Lucy.

“Maddie?” His heart detached itself from his chest wall and lodged itself in his throat. Evan’s sister wouldn’t be here unless..

“Is.. he.. is he okay?” He’d never heard his own voice so scared and meek.

Maddies eyes widened for a moment before she spoke. “Oh. No, no. I.. he’s okay. I mean, he’s not okay, not at all.”

Tommy breathed out a sigh of relief and his shoulders sagged. He clenched his jaw in an attempt to keep his emotions at bay. For a moment he thought she was about to tell him.. No, he couldn’t think about that.

“I’m sorry I probably should have let you know I was coming. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s okay. Why are you here?”

“Can we go some place to talk?” She asked.

She was looking at him not like she wanted to kill him. Which was honestly throwing him off. He broke her brother’s heart—if he were in her position he’d want to tear him in half.

“I’m not here to fight or yell—really I just want to talk.” She reassured him.

Tommy gestured for her to follow him and he led her to the Harbor kitchen upstairs. It wasn’t as fancy as the one at the 118 but it served its purpose.

“Can I get you anything? Coffee?”

“Sure. Thanks.” She answered and he pour them both a mug from the pot and they took a seat at the dining table.

“How.. how is he?” Tommy asked tentatively.

“Baking.” She said. Tommy raised his brows.

“Baking?” He knew even loved to cook, but he couldn’t remember any point in their six months together him ever baking anything.

“Yeah. I’m running out of space in my pantry for all the loaves he keeps bringing us.” She gave a small laugh.

Seems Evan was trying to distract himself just like Tommy was.

Silence fell upon them for a while until Maddie broke it.

“Did my brother ever tell you about what happened after I had Jee?”

“Uh, no. I don’t think he did.” Tommy was curious as to where Maddie was going with his.

She took a deep breath before speaking. “I didn’t know it at the time but I had Postpartum Thyroidosis. Think post postpartum depression but even worse. I was barely eating, hardly slept, and between Howie’s shifts and mine at the call centre, it became a struggle I didn’t think I’d ever get through. Do you remember the ransomware attack in the city?”

“Yeah. I spent almost a week living here.”

Maddie nodded. “Howie, too. He had to stay at the station house while I was at home with a new baby and no power. I’d quit my job in an attempt to take some of the pressure off but those 5 days alone..“ She blew out a breath. “I was bathing Jee and I was so sleep deprived that I fell asleep. It was only for a moment but.. but she slipped under the water. “

Tommy’s heart clenched at the look on her face as she recalled the memory.

“She was fine, thank god—I had her checked out. But it scared me so much and in the end was the straw that broke the camels back. So, after the hospital discharged her, I packed her things and dropped her off to Bobby at the station. Then I drove up the coast, found a beach and I walked into the ocean.”

Tommy was entirely at a loss for words. He wanted to say something but what do you say to that? Evan hadn’t said a word about it to him, and he understood why—it wasn’t his business to know.

But he remembered something Evan had said once about people he cared about leaving him. How Maddie had left him more than once. Never had Tommy thought this was what he meant.

“I had convinced myself that everyone would be better off without me. Evan, Chimney, Jee.. they’d hurt at first but they’d move on and live great lives.” She took another deep breath. “Thank god I had a moment of hesitation and somehow I found the strength to get back out. But I wasn’t in any state to go back. Eventually I checked myself into a facility in Boston to get help. That’s where I found out I had PPT. I spent the next 6 months in hard core therapy, starting with in patient then eventually moving to outpatient.” She stopped and took a sip of her coffee.

“I’m sorry that you went through that, Maddie. Really.”

“Thank you.” She gave a soft smile.

“But.. I have to ask. Why are you telling me this?”

She put her mug back down on the table. “I spent that entire 6 months convincing myself that Howie hated me for leaving him; for abandoning our daughter. Not to mention the fact that I’d left Evan again. And then one day, a friend I’d met in therapy, had a medical emergency and suddenly I’m looking at Howie as one of the paramedics that showed up. Turns out he’d spent the whole 6 months, and all of his savings, driving across the country with Jee looking for me. See, as much as I hated myself and thought that I wasn’t worth love and care—Howie didn’t. He left his job, his life to find me; to be there for me.”

Tommy began to realise the point that Maddie was making and why she was telling him what happened to her.

“Evan didn’t really say all that much about what happened that night between the two of you, but he did say that you thought you’d get hurt again and ran away.”

Tommy nodded.

“Tommy, Evan and I didn’t exactly grow up with loving and adoring parents to guide us; mostly they were in the periphery of our lives. I ended up married to an abusive man, and Evan.. he ended up with abandonment issue the size of Mars. All he wants, all he’s ever wanted was for someone to love him enough to stay. I was so caught up in what I was feeling that I left him; left everyone and I can’t take that back. The hurt I caused him and Howie and Jee..”

“But that’s different, you were sick—that wasn’t your fault.”

“The PPT wasn’t but the way I handled it was. What I’m saying Tommy, is don’t let my mistake be yours. I ran way when I should have stayed and fought, even when I was sacred.”

Tommy sat back in his chair and ran a hand through his hair.

“I just.. Evan is.. I’ve never met anybody like him. I’ve never felt the way I feel about him for anybody before, and he’s so new to dating a guy and what happens when-“

“When? You know for sure he’d leave you?”

“Well, no but-“

“You know it took almost a year for Howie and I to actually get together? I was so scared after my ex that I convinced myself that Howie and I wouldn’t work; that id just get hurt again.”

“What made you change your mind?”

“He showed me that I could trust him. More importantly I let him show me. It wasn’t easy, but I eventually got my head out of my ass and realised he wasn’t Doug. He was this wonderful man, who knew what I’d been through; saw the darkest parts of me and still wanted to love me. And if I wanted to be happy I’d have to put my trust in him, even though it still scared me.”

Maddie was right. And he’d known already deep down that he had to put himself out there if he wanted some kind of happiness. But the thought of losing himself to Evan and it not working out? He meant what he’d said to Evan about not being able to stand that happening.

She put her hand gently on his forearm. “My brother loves you. Truly loves you. It’s not some infatuation—believe me I’ve seen what that looks like on him. I’ve never seen him more settled and more himself than since he’s been with you. Does he get ahead of himself sometimes when he’s excited about something? Yeah. And sometimes he needs someone to pull him down to earth. But despite all he’s been through he still puts himself out there; puts his heart out there. And he’s put his heart in you.”

“It terrifies me.” He said. “I mean, being with him.”

“Why?”

“Because I love him too. So much that I don’t know what to do with.” He admitted.

“I feel the same way about Howie. Sometimes I find myself thinking what if I hadn’t taken that leap with him? Then I wouldn’t be married to my soulmate and more importantly we wouldn’t have our beautiful daughter. It’s hard to think good things can happen to you when all you’ve known is trauma, but in reality good things can happen to you. You just have to willing to risk it sometimes. I know I’m biased, but Evan is worth the risk. And he deserves someone who’s willing to take it.”

Evan was worth the risk. He always had been. But Tommy’s fear had taken control. He knew it wasn’t fair on either of them but how could he get out from under it?

“I want to, Maddie, I do. I just don’t know how to.”

“Well I walked into the station and kissed Howie, but something tells me they might not be your style.” She laughed and Tommy gave a small one.

“Okay, let me ask as simple question: Do you want to be with him?”

“Yes.” Tommy replied without even having to think about it.

“And you want a happy future with him?”

“More than anything.”

“Then go get it.” She said plainly. “I can’t guarantee a long beautiful life with my brother, but I can guarantee that neither of you will get to have it if you don’t try at all. So-“ she stood up from her seat. “Finish your shift, then go to him.”

“What if he doesn’t want that?”

“Have you been listening to anything I’ve said? Of course he wants that! He wouldn’t have sold out half the county of baking supplies other wise.” She stepped forward and took his hand. “You’re the best thing that’s happened to my brother. Go and be happy together.”

His resolve weakened and a couple of tears escaped his eyes. He wiped them away and stood up. “Thank you, Maddie.”

“I’m just doing what any big sister would do.”

For two months Tommy had dreaded the end to every shift knowing he’d have to go home to an empty, Evan-less house. And now for the first time in 8 weeks he couldn’t wait for his shift for end.

So he could go to Evan.

[luludeluluramblings]

AAAAHHHHH THANK YOU FOR RESPONDING. But your response to the madoka magica question got me thinkin. LET ME COOK. Madoka magica!reader. LEMME COOK. Little warning this might be a yap sesh. Now I have multiple thoughts. Let’s say reader doesn’t do what madoka does and just becomes a regular magical girl. If we follow off of the show/manga. We’re gonna assume reader is gonna be around 7th grade. Which is gonna be such a young age to be fighting those TERRIFYING witches. Lowkey was shivering in my boots when I first saw sayaka’s form. So of course reader is gonna have ptsd. Especially if they were some what in Madoka’s place and watches mami get her head bitten off?!?!? I think the batfam would definitely start to pick up on things. Flinching from touch. Covering up more (covering scars and wounds from battle). Not being as talkative. Distancing herself away from people. We all know Alfred would IMMEDIATELY clock that and try to figure out what’s wrong. Batfamily is gonna take much longer to notice though, and when they do? They feel TERRIBLE. Having to fight some of the most disturbing and hard to beat witches. Having to watch your friends die one by one. I can definitely imagine madoka magica!reader starting to act like sayaka after finding out about the soul gem situation. Depressed and riddled with a LOT of ptsd. The batfam would probably blame themselves (serves them right). And when they try to confront reader to stop fight witches? But what happens if it’s too late. Either madoka magica!reader is either gruesomely killed in battle, or went through the excruciating process of becoming the witch. They wouldn’t know what to do. Some of them letting the guilt eat them alive, letting the guilt control their every thought. Only being able to think about the pain reader must have been in.(Bruce and dick). Some of them denying reader’s dead. They can’t be dead! No no they can’t they just can’t! This is all just a prank to get attention (Damien). Couple of them enjoying anything and everything that remind them about reader. Taking stuff from reader’s room. Just so they can have a little soloist.(Alfred, Tim). Others not being able to stand anything that reminds them of reader. Not being able to be reminded of the neglect reader was put through. That they helped put reader through that neglect. (Jason)

I’d love to hear your thoughts. I have a lot more ideas for this but I don’t wanna yap to much and bother you TwT. But if you wanna have the concept go ahead! I’m not that good at writing so I wouldn’t be able to do. Btw you truly do have amazing writing!! Please remember to never overwork yourself<333

Babe, you have cooked and written this better than I would have. (I confess, I never finished Madoka Magica) And, I about to send all the asks I'm getting over this to you!

But, the way Bruce's disdain for magic would be solidified after this would be interesting. And, if they find out this is still happening to other children still, he'd probably go on a warpath and get the League involved as a way to help ease his guilt.

Or, watching him realize that there's no reversing Reader from being a Witch and that another magical girl is going to come a long an kill them.

I'm honestly wondering if one of the family members would make a deal just for a way to get Reader back.

[aboutcustardcreams]

Time Ticking, Patience Thinning

Here’s another chapter that I hope you enjoy 🫶🏼 please lemme know if you do~ would make my day!

previous chapter

“What’s your name again-? I didn’t quite catch it the first time.” 

When the boy opened his mouth to answer Agatha’s question, your gaze instinctively shifted to him. What happened next took you by surprise. As he began to speak, a shimmering sigil materialized above his lips, silencing his voice entirely. Your brows furrowed in confusion as your gaze slowly shifted to Agatha. 

“Interesting,” that’s all she said. 

"What do you mean?” 

“Nothing to shout about,” she waved it off, giving you the hint of keeping that detail Teen a secret for now. “Anyway, I can’t promise I’ll remember your name.” 

Her words caught you off guard, and it took everything in you not to burst into a cackle. Even so, a tiny puff of air escaped your nose, almost sounding like a snort. Agatha turned to you then, her composure always impeccable, infuriatingly so. 

“We better get going now,” she brushed past you towards the front door, or rather, the spot where it used to be.

You smacked your lips at her nonchalance. If you weren’t in such a rush, you’d invade her personal space right there and now, capture her lips with yours to wipe off that knowing grin from her face. 

Instead you only said, “I drive.”

She didn’t object to that. In fact, she preferred it when you were the one behind the wheel. It gave her the liberty to let her hands wander over your skin. 

As you slid into your car, Teen's eyes sparkled with the hopeful anticipation of claiming the shotgun seat, but Agatha cut off his enthusiasm rather quickly. 

“Be a good pet and sit in the back, will you?” 

The boy shot you a sideway glance and you muttered a soft ‘sorry’ in his direction. Resigned, he slid into the backseat, clicked his seatbelt into place,and slouched in quiet defeat, arms crossed over his chest, reminding you of his young age. 

“Maybe on our way back you two can switch-”

Agatha didn’t even let you finish, “Or maybe not,” she muttered sarcastically. 

You sighed and started the car, with no clear destination in mind just yet, “very mature.”

She didn’t respond to that and simply hummed.

“So, where are we going?” Teen asked after a bunch of minutes. 

You looked at him from the rearview mirror, “for starters we do need a Coven to walk the Road.” 

He looked like a child on Christmas day, “you’re taking me to your Coven?” 

With your eyes back on the road, you hummed, “Uhm, not exactly.”

“We never had one,” Agatha clarified, “I mean, not for long anyway.” You glanced at her briefly, wondering what she might say to the boy next. For a fleeting moment, you thought she might blurt out the entire truth right then and there. But it wouldn’t be like her, so you brushed the thought aside almost as quickly as it came to you. 

“They annoyed me,” she said with a dramatic tut, “so one day I woke up, feeling inspired, and turned them into dust.”

You nearly veered into the opposite lane when she said that, your knuckles whitening on the steering wheel. It wasn’t the whole truth, but it wasn’t entirely a lie either. Yes, she had killed her Coven, of that there was no dispute. But what she left unsaid were the reasons that forced her hand, reasons that probably nobody knew, that’s why people were so quick to come up with the ‘witch killer’ nickname. 

Teen looked terrified and uncertain what was to say next. And Agatha, being Agatha, looked quite pleased with it. 

"That’s not exactly how it went,” you mumbled, giving away the hint that there was more to say, without actually saying it. You stole a glance at Agatha, her smile teasing, slightly amused by the familiarity of the situation. There you were, once more, doing your best to clean up her reputation. She told you many times you didn’t have to do it, but you couldn’t help it. “What I can say is this: they’ve blown the whole ‘witch killer’ thing way out of proportion. Agatha isn’t a bad person.” 

Sure, you couldn’t deny the fact that Agatha killed witches, more than a few. But survival had a way of sharpening its edges, forcing impossible choices. She killed to save herself when no one else would. She killed to save Nicky. And later on… she killed to find a way to save you. It’s long overdue that people knew the truth, yet you knew it wasn’t your place, at least not only yours, to spill it. 

When Rio sent the Furies after you, they took possession of your mind, twisting reality until it was unrecognizable to you. Their voices inside your heart hurt in the most inexplicable way, but you resisted, you vowed to. You never fully understood how your condition affected Agatha and Nicky, because whenever you had a fleeting moment of clarity, they chose to savor the time together rather than tell you how much it hurt them to see you like that. During that time, Agatha’s killings increased but you wouldn’t know. She didn’t need to kill witches to heal Nicky, though. The moment you used your magic to bring him back to life, the curse had been lifted and with it, Nicky’s illness. But your magic had come with an unexpected price to pay. Rio had warned you, but you refused to listen. 

Noticing the way your eyes dimmed, Agatha slid her hand above your knee. She knew you too well to figure out exactly where your thoughts had gone. You were blaming yourself again. And she couldn’t let you do that. 

“Don’t listen to her, Teen. She has the tendency of picturing me softer than I really am,” despite her serious tone, the way her hand squeezed your knee, told you a whole different story. All she wanted was for you to let go of your sense of guilt. “When it comes to survival, you’ll do whatever it takes— anything. I hope it never comes that far for you.” 

Teen considered those words in silence. Your version compared to Agatha’s and it all just clicked. You were protecting her and she was protecting you. In that moment, he decided the rumors about the two of you didn’t matter, whether they were true or not. From now on, he would form his own picture of you both by living in the present and watching you do your thing. 

“I think it’s sweet that you found each other and stuck around for all these years. Centuries, I presume. In a way you form a Coven of two–” 

Your heart warmed up at Teen’s words. It was kind of cute to think of it that way. Your lips spread in a smile and so did Agatha’s, but more because she was amused by the whole thing he just said. Sure, she agreed with him- the fact that there was a bond between you two was true. An understatement, to be frank. You went through so many things together that the sole thought of parting ways for whatever reason felt now like a complete idiocy. You belonged to her like she belonged to you. 

“Teen, I’m sorry to cut your enthusiasm, but she and I are in a relationship. That hardly makes us a Coven.” 

“It makes us a family, though,” you pointed out. 

You caught something flickering in Agatha’s eyes, a shimmer of emotion, maybe even vulnerability. Had it been just the two of you, she might have let it linger, but with the boy in the car, she felt uneasy. So she averted her eyes, focusing on the passing landscape to her right. 

Noticing her hand slip away from your thigh, you pouted. Stubbornly, you reached out and placed it back where it belonged and when she turned, your lips curled up once again in a mischievous grin. Agatha snorted. That sass of yours— 

“There’s no time to be namby-pamby, my love. I need you to be focused.”

You rolled your eyes, but chuckled, “Fine. Wouldn’t want you to lose your only chance at surviving against the Salem Seven.”

Agatha's expression twisted into an exaggerated version of your own, mimicking your tone as she repeated the words you just said. The effect was immediate and both you and Teen burst into laughter, incredulous on your part. 

“I don’t sound like that!” 

“You do,” she insisted, lips twitching in a smirk. 

“I think she did a pretty good ‘you’”, Teen added, only fueling your mocking disbelief and Agatha’s enjoyment. 

“Whatever, I’m done with you two.” 

Your eyes squinted towards a peculiar building standing in the middle of nowhere to your left. You decided to try your luck there, took a rapid turn and parked right in front of the building, your instinct telling you there was a potential witch in there. The faded sign hanging above the door caught your eye, and you read it aloud: Madame Calderou’s Psychic Readings. 

Agatha clasped her hands together, before rubbing them as if she was plotting something mischievous, “Right. Seems like we are here.”

Teen’s interest piqued once again, “You think there’s a real witch in there?”

Before you could respond, Agatha preceded you, “we shall see if she knows the witchy handshake first.”

“Oh my God– there’s a witchy handshake?”

You let out an exasperated sigh while Agatha giggled to herself. It was so easy to play with that boy. “Teen, she is pulling your leg. There’s no such thing as a witchy handshake. Honestly that would be so demeaning.”

“Such as flying brooms or pointy hats,” she agreed with you. 

“I like flying brooms,” you retorted, as you three walked up towards the building. 

Agatha draped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into a squishy, however affectionate embrace, “Course you do,” she purred, “next you’ll be telling me you want to adopt a black cat as familiar.” 

“I already have a familiar, thank you very much,” you pointed out, “a nice turtle that your bunny keeps bullying shamelessly.”

Agatha gasped dramatically, but you knew it was just an act, “he doesn’t! Take it back–” 

“He does,” you chuckled. “And no, I won’t.” 

“Uhm, we are drifting off here,” Teen interjected, with an awkward smile. He pointed at the building, making both you and Agatha shift your attention back to the reason why you were there. Gather a Coven of Witches. 

“Right,” she took a mental note to return to the subject another time. 

You nodded, stepping forward to open the door. Holding it wide, you gestured for Teen to go in first. He slipped inside without a word, rather excitedly actually, and as Agatha approached, she brushed past you, but not before her fingers slid into yours, her hand fitting perfectly in your grasp. 

A small, teasing grin tugged at your lips. “I thought we didn’t have time for sappy moments.” 

“Don’t be such a brat,” she whispered into your ear, in a cheeky tone, you didn’t miss. Couldn’t, if you tried. 

*

“You’ve been under the influence of another, haven't you? Someone you hurt,” the clairvoyant started, her voice solemn as she took in Agatha’s blue eyes. The smirk of confidence that had tugged at Agatha’s lips faded as soon as she realized that Lilia Calderou wasn’t a fraud and knew who she was. You gave Agatha’s hand a tentative squeeze, a way to let her know you were there– that everything was okay. Her fingers tightened around yours in response. 

“And she paid the price, too. They took your agency, but not hers,” she continued, her eyes landed on yours as you frowned uncomfortably. You never blamed Agatha for anything and you certainly wouldn’t start now just because a clairvoyant said so. “I feel it, your magic. It’s restless, volatile and quite dangerous. It should not exist.” 

You leaned back in your chair and crossed your arms over your chest, “Here we go again,” you muttered, voice laced with dry sarcasm. Agatha snorted out a low chuckle in response to Lilia’s words, “You know nothing about her talent, so I’d suggest you to be quiet about it.” She never cared about what other witches thought about her, but whenever it came to you, she would completely lose her mind, if someone dared to judge who you were, basing their opinion on a prejudice as old as the world. 

“So you’re a witch?” Teen’s question came in a hopeful tone.

“Divination witch is my guess,” you replied before Lilia could. 

A mischievous grin tugged at Lilia’s lips. “If you intend to overstay your visit, I’ll have to charge you again.” 

“Oh, I think you can grant us another ten minutes of your time,” Agatha groaned, “It’s not that there’s a line in here or something.”

In response, you saw Teen bow his head to wipe the grin off his face. You, on the other hand, made no effort to hide yours. 

Annoyance was evident in her eyes, as she retorted, “whatever you want from me, I’m not interested,” Lilia stood up and without another word, she stood and disappeared behind the curtain at the back of her shop. 

You and Agatha shared a knowing glance. 

Teen appeared more disappointed than concerned, “Now what?” 

“Now we persuade her.” 

To preserve Agatha’s life, it was essential to gather some magic and you would have, no matter what. So you stood, eyes flashing with a newfound calm mingled with determination. Agatha noticed and smiled. She loved you for so many things and that behavior of yours, was just one of those characteristics that reminded her of why she chose to stick by your side so many years ago. 

She gave you a nod of her head and followed you, as you took the lead. On the other side, you found yourself in what could loosely be called an apartment. A single room stretched before you. To the left stood a corner kitchen, its countertops cluttered with mismatched utensils, jars of herbs, the faint glimmer of copper pots, and a kettle she just turned on, probably to make herself some soothing tea. 

“Join us,” Agatha insisted, as you and Teen kept looking around. “Honestly the way you live is kind of disappointing. You deserve more and better than whatever this place is…” Her gaze drifted to the far end of the room, where a mattress leaned against the wall, probably to save up space. 

You wondered if there was a toilet hidden behind it. How low could a witch go?

The clairvoyant’s gaze flickered with hesitation, her lips pressed into a thin line as Agatha’s words sinked in. The shrill whistle of the kettle cut through the silence, drawing her attention and causing both you and Agatha to roll your eyes, when she spun around. 

“Lilia–”, you couldn’t do this all day.  

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” when she turned to face you, her eyes locked onto yours, sharp and intense. You could tell she was conflicted, exasperated even. “I won’t make the same mistake and fall into Agatha’s manipulative ways. They say you endured the Furies’ wrath because you did and yet here you are, still standing by her side. I don’t understand that.”

To say you were shocked was an understatement. 

She had no idea what she was talking about– Agatha had nothing to do with the Furies. For some odd, infuriating reason, nobody knew a thing about Rio Vidal, instead: the true cause of everything. Instead, according to the stories, it had always been you and Agatha all along, so whatever bad thing came your way, Agatha bore the brunt of the blame. You were sick of that. 

Teen was in shock too, he didn’t speak, but a part of him ached to defend both you and Agatha. He’d read about the Furies, knew the torment you endured for years, but not for a second had he ever believed Agatha was responsible for it. It just didn’t sit right with him. It couldn’t be.  Not when Agatha looked at you the way she did, as if you held all the stars in the sky just for her. As if you were everything she had left.

Watching you from her peripheral vision, Agatha recognized clear signs of your struggle. Your jaw clenched tightly, your hands curled into fists at your sides, and your lips pressed into a thin line, “If you really think Agatha is somewhat responsible for what happened to me, which by the way is none of your business, maybe you lost your talent–”, your words hung in the air, adding to the already tense atmosphere lingering in the room. 

Lilia looked somewhat self-conscious about what she said and how they affected you, yet she didn’t apologize. However, she held herself back from responding to your bitter remark about her.

Agatha’s lips stretched into a sad, tight smile the moment her fingers brushed against your forearm, and you failed to meet her eyes, “hey– don’t go there again. It’s not worth it,” she cooed, voice firm, yet veiled with the usual fondness she only reserved to you. You clenched your eyes shut for a moment, your magic sparkling at the tips of your fingers. Lilia was right about one thing: your talent could be dangerous especially when wielded by a witch emotionally distressed or simply pissed off, like you. 

“You’re right,” you sighed, “Look, we are going to walk the Road. The Witches’ Road. And we need a divination witch, but the choice is yours. You can keep living your eternal life in this kind of shack you call home or try to go back on top. Be a witch again.”

Lilia’s mouth almost dropped, then. “The Road is a death wish.” 

“I survived,” Agatha waved with a grin. 

“And yet you’ve got no power.”

“That’s why I need to walk the Road, again. To restock.” 

Lilia swallowed thickly. The offer was appealing and yet, she was uncertain. Agatha was, after all, known for having betrayed her entire Coven, at a very young age too. “How can I trust you won’t take my power at the earliest opportunity?”

Before Agatha could say anything, you stepped forward. “She won’t. I guarantee it for you.” Despite your growing distaste for Lilia at this moment, your principles held steadfast: no more witches would die because of Agatha. Or you. That was a promise you intended to keep. “You seem to know very well what Agatha’s capable of, but my question is, are you just as familiar with my talent?”

Lilia almost found it amusing that you’d question her knowledge about witches of your kind. “I do. At least to some extent,” she clarified, “I know what a necromancer witch can do. And I also know you’re not a killer,” she finished on a softer note. 

“Agatha isn’t either,” you pointed out.

“Well, isn’t your loyalty sweet–”

Your lover took a step ahead, stretched out a hand, and moved you behind her, the moment your magic intensified around you and her, “Look, you’re right, I’ve got a reputation, I can’t help with that–” she trailed off, gesturing animatedly while doing so. “I don’t have time to persuade you into believing my intentions are genuine. Time’s running out and if you’re not willing to tag along, then fine. I’ll still Walk the Witches’ Road, restore my powers, and get my life back. Just remember that the path you’re currently on leads nowhere.” 

Her words were convincing enough, but it was the small piece of paper she was holding that truly caught Lilia’s attention. You hadn’t noticed it before, nor were you sure where it had come from, but the realization struck quickly. A smirk tugged at your lips as everything suddenly fell in place.

That was an eviction notice.

“Even if I were to accept, you’d still need more witches.”

Agatha had a solution for that too. She grinned from ear to ear, “I was hoping you’d use your witchcraft to come up with a list of names. You can do that, can’t you?” 

It was a rhetorical question, she knew she could. 

Lilia’s lips stretched into a defiant smile, “give me that,” she said, snatching the piece of paper from Agatha’s hands, along with a pen that lay on the table. She didn’t even have to think about the names, they were already there, poised on the tip of her tongue or rather, the pen. 

When she handed the paper back, both you and Agatha went as pale as a sheet. It couldn’t be. At the top were your name and Agatha’s, followed by Lilia Calderou, Jennifer Kale, Alice Wu Gulliver, and, finally, Rio Vidal.

[damiansgoodgirll]

don’t break my heart 8 i can’t wait 💕💕

I’M SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG…part 9 is already in the making!

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7.

rhea ripley x reader (platonic) / damian priest x reader (platonic) / drew mcintyre x reader

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

‼️this chapter contains topics like fear of abandonment, negative thoughts, loneliness, panic attacks, fear of rejection, paranoid reader, anxiety, angst in general‼️

DON’T BREAK MY HEART - PART 8

it was bad blood weekend and you were a nervous wreck. you didn’t know why but you had a sixth sense, feeling that it was going to be bad. in your mind you saw rhea and damian losing. you saw drew and punk destroying each other and you were terrified because you couldn’t do anything to prevent all of that. it was just your imagination - you told yourself - but as the days passed, your feelings got worse and in less than two hours from the start of the show, you were completely terrified.

adam forbid you to go and help rhea, meaning that she was alone out there. you knew she didn’t need your help to win a match, especially against liv morgan, but you never knew what the judgment day was up to.

you saw how drew trained himself this week, you knew he was ready for the match, but having him, alone, in a cell with punk, was scaring you. he told you multiple times that no matter the outcome, he would make punk see hell, and by now, you knew that drew was serious. he didn’t care about winning or losing, he wanted this to be a revenge on punk, for costing him the world title.

as you were all backstage, you could feel the tension. drew tried to stay calm, especially seeing how agitated you were, but truth was, he wasn’t calm either. he was ready for that match.

the hell in a cell match was going to be the first one, probably the most anticipated match of the night.

“be careful out there okay?” you whispered as he finished getting ready.

“i will, i promise” he tried to reassure you but you didn’t really believe him.

chuckling, you looked up at him “you won’t, i know you…i already see blood and tears so please, don’t be the one i see bleeding in my imagination” you tried to be sarcastic but deep down you know that there was a huge possibility of drew coming back with blood and deep cuts.

“well, then you have a large imagination” he joked “i can’t promise you that but i promise you that i’ll be careful okay?” he smiled down, trying to reassure you as best as he could.

rhea and damian were both getting ready for their matches so they weren’t watching punk and drew completely destroying each other, meaning you were left alone in your little changing room watching the show on the tv screen in front of you.

drew wasn’t careful. you saw blood during the first fifteen minutes of the match. both men were heavily bleeding. you wished they stopped at the tables and chairs but they both went too far. you could hear the crowd cheering but there was an heavy tension backstage, as if this wasn’t supposed to happen.

of course you knew there was going to be blood and a lot of brutality but for a minute you thought that it was too much. thirty minutes into the match and both men had no intention of stopping. more blood, more violence, more gore. you quickly left your changing room and walked around backstage, you had no intention of finishing that match.

you tried, but seeing drew like that was too much for you.

“girl where are you going?” you heard jey’s voice calling you when he saw you wandering around with nowhere to go “come here!” he gently smiled and pulled you into a bigger locker room. him and few people of the crew were watching the match.

“oh god…” you whispered seeing how badly injured was drew. you saw the big jump he took on the metal stairs and how hard he hit his back. you closed your eyes for a moment, trying to get that image out of your head - he broke his back - you thought - it’s over for him. you didn’t care who was going to win, you just wanted the match to be over. luckily a few minutes later, punk finished his moves on drew, making him the winner of the match.

you could see that neither of the men were able to stand properly. punk fell on his knees and drew was still trying to catch his breath inside of the ring. it was an hell of a match but it was too much for you. you just wanted to get to drew and hug him, comfort him.

you excused yourself from jey and the rest of the crew and sprinted out towards the entrance but security stopped you, telling you that drew needed to be medicated first.

your mind was racing. rhea was getting ready for her match. damian was getting ready for his match. drew was being medicated somewhere in the backstage and you were standing there alone with your thoughts as people kept working around you. you felt small, too small.

you didn’t care - you needed to know how drew was doing so you walked towards the medical area and when you saw him getting his wounds cleaned, your stomach turned on you.

drew saw you and he weakly smiled at you, aiming for you to come in.

you didn’t know what to say. he didn’t know what to say. but the sight of blood made you sick so you tried to look anywhere in the room expect him.

“y/n…” his rough voice called you.

“hey…” you walked a little closer till you sat down next to him “you promised me that you would have been careful” you joked, making him slightly chuckle.

“i’m here, alive…that’s a promise” he smiled, looking at you.

“you got everyone worried…you got me so fucking worried, drew i thought i lost you” you didn’t mean to sound so weak, you didn’t mean to let everyone in the room know about your relationship but you couldn’t help your emotions.

“hey…i’m okay, i’m here…just some cuts but i’m okay, i promise you” drew reassured you to keep you calm but deep down he knew he failed. he wanted to show you he was capable of doing it but he failed and he was ashamed of himself. he knew that you would have never judged him but that wasn’t what his mind was telling him “hey y/n…do you mind if i rest a little bit? i feel like i just need to close my eyes” he wanted - needed - your comfort but he felt like he didn’t deserve it.

you were taken aback from his demand but you knew that you couldn’t say no to him. after what he just been through, he needed to rest, he needed time for himself “absolutely…let me know if you need anything okay?” he smiled softly kissing your cheek before letting you go.

feeling a little down you hoped to meet either damian or rhea backstage but none of them was anywhere to be found.

damian was next and he was about to enter the ring so you sat backstage and watched the match with a little anxiety as he was going to face finn. after everything he put you through you knew that all you wanted to see was damian destroying finn but the judgment day was going to interfere and he was there all alone. anxiously you watched the match and couldn’t help your happiness the moment he won. even if the judgment day tried to help finn, they all failed miserably and you couldn’t help but laugh.

as time passed you waited for rhea’s match. she trained so hard for this moment and you knew that she was more than ready to fight back. she had this match, she had this moment and no one was going to take it away from her, especially liv. she didn’t have dom’s help and she was there all alone. you knew rhea was going to win. she had to win. it was such an easy match for her, plus seeing dom in that cage made you laugh - he had what was coming for him.

so what did go wrong?

no one expected to see raquel back. she wasn’t in the script, she wasn’t in the plan.

rhea won by disqualification but liv still held the title, she still held the crown and no matter how good rhea was, she knew it would have been hard to get her title back.

you stayed there, watching as liv and raquel along with dom celebrated over rhea’s lost and your heart broke for her even more. she didn’t deserve all of that.

wondering what to do, you let rhea have some time for herself before you could join her in her changing room.

around fifteen minutes passed and you couldn’t wait any longer, you needed to see her, to comfort her and to let her know that she did amazing no matter the outcome. seeing the two most important people of your life losing on the same day made your heart sank.

slowly approaching her changing room, you softly knocked on her door and stepped in when she said so.

but she probably wasn’t expecting to see you because her nose scrunched a little too much for your liking.

“rhea…you were so great out there, you had the match in your hands…” she didn’t even let you finish.

“yeah but i lost. again, once again i don’t have my title, so who cares if i was the best one out there? listen, i need time alone” she was clearly upset and you couldn’t blame her.

“rhea…” you whispered. it pained you seeing her talking so low of herself.

“i don’t wanna talk” she spat back.

“rhea…”

“no! i don’t wanna talk! i don’t wanna talk or see you!” - oh, she was mad but with you?

“rhea what?” you weren’t used of her screaming at you, you weren’t used of fighting with her.

“i lost! i fucking lost against that liv morgan and where were you? i needed you, but you weren’t there?” she waited a few seconds before start screaming at you again “where the fuck were you!” this version of rhea scared you.

“rhea you knew i couldn’t! the management said…”

“i don’t give a shit about what they said! i needed you and you weren’t there! i’m always here for you and for one time where i needed your support, you weren’t there! fuck!” she knew better than to scream at you, knowing she would have triggered some memories of your past but anger was taking the best of her and she didn’t care about you or anyone at the moment.

“rhea i’m sorry…” tears in your eyes.

“i don’t care! now go, i need to stay alone!” she said turning her back on you.

you slowly walked away, letting all of your tears fall down.

you needed to talk with someone, anyone yet drew was probably sleeping and damian wasn’t answering his phone, too busy celebrating his victory.

you were alone - again.

liv was right. finn was right. you would ended up being alone. rhea was going to leave and it was just a matter of time.

you needed to leave the arena as soon as possible.

you felt like the space around you was suffocating you. the air was thick and you struggled breathing. what was going on?

walking fast through the corridors, you took a deep breath when you saw one of the emergency exit and the big orange door right in front of you. quickly pushing the door open, you took a deep breath when you felt the cold air hitting your face, you were free - you thought.

but your chest was still heavy and the tears wouldn’t stop falling.

you took your phone out of your pocket and quickly called damian, hoping he was going to answer this time. “come on damian…please, please…” but you were met again with his voice recording saying to leave a message if needed. where was he?

you needed to go back to the hotel as soon as possible but with no rental of your own was pretty hard. wiping your tears away and calling an uber, you tried to act as everything was normal even if you were slowly dying inside. everything was so wrong and the worst part is that you couldn’t do anything about it.

as if the night wasn’t already ruined, the uber driver was a fan. you didnt mind talking with fans - you could talk about wrestling all day long - but your mind wasn’t in the right place at the moment and all you could focus on was the fact that once again you were alone. you tried to be polite but all you wanted was to get away from that small space and breathe fresh air again. as you got out, you couldn’t help the tears falling down your cheeks. you felt pathetic, crying over nothing. the words liv and finn said to you echoing in your head - how you would ending up being alone - and the things was you started to believe them.

why were you being so paranoid? drew was sleeping, the match took a big tool on him but that didn’t mean he hated you or he didn’t want to see you. damian was celebrating his victory somewhere with his family, friends and probably some models too. but if you were family too, why didn’t he invite you? and rhea was mad. you still couldn’t point out if she was mad because she lost the match and needed someone to blame or if she genuinely was mad at you for not interacting with her during the game. she knew you couldn’t. she knew that if you intervened, both of you would have gotten in big trouble with the management, risking up to month fine without wrestling. did she really wanted that?

your mind was spinning and you tried to reach your bedroom as fast as you could.

in the meantime, damian was at the arena, he didn’t leave, he stayed there the whole time finishing up some interviews and even if he wanted to go out and drink something with his family, he was tore down and all of his body ached - he couldn’t wait to go back to bed.

“…thank you so much damian” jackie thanked him once he finished his interview, leaving him there in his changing room.

taking a deep breath, he took his phone out of his pocket and grew immediately worried when he saw all of your missed calls.

he tried to call back but your phone went immediately on silent mode, as if it was turned off.

weird - he thought - you never turned your phone off.

walking to find rhea, she was nowhere to be found. he knew she was a hothead and he knew that she probably wanted to stay alone.

his only option was drew and he prayed the man was still in the arena. someone from the staff told him that drew was still in the medical bay so he walked over there, asking from time to time if anyone had seen you.

knocking on drew’s door, the scottish man let him in.

“damian…” drew definitely wasn’t expecting him. he was hoping it was you.

“how are you man?” damian genuinely concerned about drew’s condition after the rough match he had in the cage with punk.

drew chuckled a little before letting his real thoughts out “i’m glad to be alive you know? i wasn’t expecting this much violence but it was one hell of a match, i felt better to be honest” he joked “i’ll be okay, thanks…”

“listen man, have you seen y/n? she called me a few times earlier and i couldn’t answer but when i tried to call her back it goes straight to her voicemail…” damian directly asked drew.

drew knew you never turned your phone off so he was taken aback from damian’s words “i saw her once the match was over, she came here and we talked a little bit…then i asked her if…well, i asked her if she could leave, i wanted to sleep a little…”

“and…?”

“and she left. she probably wasn’t expecting my request” drew took a deep breath “i just needed some time alone you know? i haven’t seen her since then, but i checked my phone a few minutes ago and she hasn’t called me. have you tried rhea?”

damian shook his head “rhea is nowhere to be found. she needs time to cool off after her match, i don’t think she saw y/n…i just feel like it’s weird, she has called me five times and now her phone is like dead…” worried look painted his face.

drew stood up immediately from the couch he was sitting and checked damian’s phone as he tried to call you once again.

“dead line…” damian whispered.

where were you?

back at the hotel, you quickly paced around the room, trying to focus on something, anything that could have helped you relax and yet nothing was working.

your hands began shaking and while you reached for your phone, you saw that it died while you were walking to the hotel. looking for a charger, you threw your suitcase upside down and when you found it, you plugged it into the wall and rapidly waiting for your phone to turn on.

“come on…” you whispered. you didn’t know what you were actually waiting for. damian wasn’t going to answer anyway and drew said he needed time for himself, leaving you with no options at all.

as your phone turned on, you saw the missed calls from both damian and drew and a shaky breath left your lips.

you didn’t even have time to call one of the boys back that an incoming call from drew appeared on your home screen.

taking a deep breath you answered his call.

“y/n?” drew asked the moment you answered.

“drew…” your voice shaking. what were you crying for? he answered and yet you couldn’t find peace.

“y/n, what’s going on? baby, why are you crying?” drew’s heart broke when he heard your soft sobs from the phone.

“i…i don’t know, i don’t know what’s going on…drew i, i can’t breathe…i don’t know what to do…” clearly panicking again, drew needed to know exactly where you were.

“y/n where are you? i’m coming to get you” he was worried and his heart was racing.

“what? no, no drew you need to rest, i…you stay there and-…”

“cut the bullshit y/n, where are you?” he hated being so severe with you but he needed to know what was going on and if you were in any type of danger.

“at the hotel…my room” was all that you were able to say before drew spoke again.

“we are coming to get you…” he said before cutting the call off.

was he really coming for you? were you really so pathetic that you needed him? did you wake him up just because you were acting stupid again?

your mind couldn’t stop those horrible thoughts and all you wanted to do was disappear, pretend like you never existed - maybe everyone life would be better without you.

what if rhea had a better teammate? what if that teammate would have broken the rules for her? what if you are the reason the judgment day broke up? were they really so tired of you? what if drew had a girlfriend who was normal and not acting crazy like you did?

you tried to breath as drew taught you but you couldn’t. and the idea of drew seeing you like this again was killing you. you made so much progress and now you felt like you fucked everything up.

you were sat on the floor, your back on the edge of the bed as you tried to calm yourself down when you heard the hotel room door opening.

a very bruised drew sat on the floor with you, right in front of you while damian stood behind, clearly worried about you.

“y/n…baby, what’s wrong?” drew’s voice was soft. the moment he met your eyes, he knew something wrong had happened.

“i’m sorry…i’m so sorry i shouldn’t have called, damian you don’t have to be here…you should be out celebrating your victory and-…”

but damian wasn’t agreeing with you “the hell? hermosa, what’s going on? i’m sorry i didn’t answer before but i’m here now, we are both here…”

“yes that’s the problem! you shouldn’t be dealing with me! you have a life and worse problems than to stay here with me!” you couldn’t stop the tears from falling “i told you drew, my head is a fucking mess, i don’t deserve you, i don’t deserve any of you…all i do is complain and fucking up, i’m just a burden to everyone and”

“what the heck are you talking about darling…look at me” his big calloused hands gently lifted your face “look at me love” while his thumb was wiping your tears away “i don’t know what’s going on in that pretty head of yours, i wish i knew but i don’t…” he spoke softly to you “you’re not a burden, listen to me, you’re not a burden. don’t listen to what those voices in your head are saying, listen to me…you’re everything to me, i love you so much and it’s okay to cry, to feel lost, but i’m here, your family is here and we aren’t leaving you…” he really hoped that you could listen to him.

opening his arms for you, he gently let you lay your head on his shoulder. his hands stroking your back as if he wanted to calm you down, knowing how much you craved for physical touch.

drew and damian knew that you needed help and they were both right there for you. they knew you were strong and yet so fragile. they knew the toxic environment you came from, they knew that you feared of being left behind, alone. they knew that somehow, no matter how much love they showed to you, you still felt alone. and they knew that you get easily overwhelmed by the smallest things. people screaming, making too much noise or breaking things - that would wake terrible memories.

“yet she did…” you whispered, closing your eyes because the idea of your mind playing flashbacks of what happened with rhea earlier was enough to send you on the edge.

“who?” damian asked.

“rhea…she left, and it’s all on me” tears couldn’t stop falling from your eyes.

damian and drew exchanged a worried look. you two were practically inseparable.

what did rhea do?

[samwinchesterthewitch]

CW: noncon (turns mutual later)

The air conditioner in their motel room was broken. Sam thought his skull would split open. The pain was like a band wrapped around his head, squeezing, unwilling to let go until he got what he needed. He was burning up, shaking, his words stammered and breathless as he tried to tell Dean, I have to go.

Dean's eyes said no before his mouth did. To see Ruby?

I need to. I need to, Dean.

But the pain, the pain in his head couldn't compare to the pain in Dean's eyes, and Sam was the cause. He knew he was. He hated hurting Dean, but he needed this, needed to get better, stronger, so he could protect Dean, because Dean had suffered enough in Hell and was broken in ways that Sam couldn't fix, but he could fix this.

Dean's mouth curled. It wasn't a smile.

Sam felt it then, something snap, and it wasn't the band around his head. It wasn't the fingers digging into his shirt, grabbing. Or the hands shoving him on the bed, pushing, demanding. Love in the form of violence wasn't anything new to them.

"No," Dean said, clear through the haze of heat. "I know what you need, and it's not that bitch's blood."

The body on top of his, that wasn't new. But this wasn't sparring. Dean kept him pinned on his front, not letting him fight back, no chance to tap out. Sam struggled, hot with anger, and fear, and his body's shameful response to having his brother so close. He opened his mouth. Dean pressed his face into the pillow. It smelled like cheap beer and sweat.

"You need me, Sam."

This was true. But it didn't make sense, in Sam's melting brain, with his belt being unbuckled, or his jeans being shoved down, the denim rough between his thighs. He couldn't equate the body over his with his brother when leather constricted his hands, cutting into his wrists when he yanked -- his own belt, he realized, it was used to tie his hands to the headboard.

Shock clouded his mind for a moment. Made him go still, frozen, like those nights as a kid when he would just stare at his closet, waiting for the worst. But then Dean was yanking him up by his hair, fingers pushing past Sam's lips, and the shock was gone.

Sam bucked, a choked snarl coming out. He almost bit down, but Dean bit him first, teeth sinking into the meat of his neck -- and then Sam couldn't breathe, caught between a cry and a moan, body and mind wracked with anger fear pleasure pain guilt Dean Dean Dean.

The name came out slurred with Dean's fingers in the way.

"Don't," Dean breathed in his ear, a rough command. Stop. Stop fighting me. "This is all you're getting, Sammy. This is your fault."

This was also, somehow, true, mostly because it was always Sam's fault, all of this was his fault. That was probably why Sam stopped, stopped fighting his brother. Realized that this -- this was happening, and the fingers in his mouth were a kindness, his brother trying to make the punishment easier on him. Sam should be grateful.

He sucked his brother's fingers.

It was too hot, too much heat to think clearly, too sweaty to move. His cheeks were on fire. He didn't know what sounds were coming out of his mouth. It was like a dream come true and a nightmare that would never end, not until he got what he deserved.

Dean started with two. Two fingers, hard and impatient, making Sam's hips buck some more, fingers curling around the belt. He tried gritting his teeth -- the Winchester way, their dad would say, refusing to make a sound -- but Dean would yank on his hair, or twist his fingers, and the gasps came spilling out.

It wasn't much prep. Pain wasn't the problem though. It was hearing Dean take off his own belt, unzip, groan under his breath. It was feeling the head of Dean's hard, heavy cock brush against his rim, realizing that they were past the point of no return. Terrified that this would ruin them, that Dean would regret it once he calmed down and hate himself even more, Sam tried again. "Dean, st--"

Dean split him open. Sam muffled his scream in the pillow.

Too hot, he was suffocating. Burning. Was this what Hell was like for Dean? Sam tried to cling onto a coherent thought, but anger fear guilt pain pain pain my brother is fucking me took over.

Everything was in shards, fragments.

He's angry.

Pain everywhere.

It's my fault.

Dean's breath, heavy and fast, hot on the back of his neck.

But I need to--

Hands on his hips, hand on his scar, the one on his lower back from when he died and Dean traded his soul to get him back.

Ruby's the only--

"Don't say her name," Dean growled, and fuck, Sam said that out loud, didn't he? "Don't even think about her. All you need is this--"

Another thrust, but this time, a spark. More heat, but inside him, fizzling in his stomach. Sam clenched, mouth dropping in a moan. He didn't have to look to know his brother was smirking, that same look he got whenever he was right. Sam forgot what they were arguing about, but he knew who was winning.

"Say it, Sammy." Hot, so hot in his ear. "Say you only need me."

The stubborn little brother in Sam didn't want to. But his big brother kept going, pain oozing out of Sam's body, hips rising up for more of that feeling buzzing in his nerves, throbbing in his chest. His vision went blurry as Dean bore down harder, faster, determined to get the answer he wanted. Expecting his baby brother to give in.

Sam felt it coming. He was hard now, he needed to cum, the friction of the bed and his brother's cock desperately pushing in and out, harder each time -- the words just came out on their own.

"I only n-need you."

He was lifted up by his hair again, gasping. Panting and choking out little moans and whimpers while his brother kept going. "Louder," he growled, so Sam said it louder. "Who do you need?"

"You! Just you, Dean!"

"Right. Right, just me, just your big brother."

It was coiling inside him. Sam gasped out, "Need to--"

"No." In, out. Clench, release. Sam nearly sobbed. "You don't get that. If you're gonna cum, it's gonna be from my dick. Nothing else."

This seemed totally unfair in Sam's sex-cloudy mind. "Dean," he whined, like they were kids again. The thought should have snapped him out of -- whatever this was.

It didn't. Dean kept fucking him, and Sam came just from that, all over the cheap motel sheets.

---

The air conditioner was still broken. The digital clock read 4:56 in the morning. Sam's wrists had bruises and welts in them when Dean finally untied his belt from the headboard. Sam himself was also covered in bruises, and bites, and cum, and sweat.

His baby brother was out cold. Lost the energy to even jerk his hips up after the seventh time. A part of Dean was grateful for that; better then admitting his dick was totally spent.

The evidence of his crime was laid out on Dean's bed, eyes closed and breathing slowly. Dean pulled the covers over his brother like he was tucking him in, before sighing and forcing himself to drag his feet to the bathroom.

The self-loathing could come later. For now, all that mattered was that Sam was here. Safe. Nowhere near Ruby or any other fucking demon who wanted to take advantage of his brother.

Dean protected him, like always.

That's all that mattered.

S4 Dean deciding that to keep Sam from sneaking out at night to meet Ruby, he's just gonna have to dick down his brother so hard he nearly passes out. Every night. For Sam's safety.

PLEASE.

[nowimjustastranger]

Has STCMO!Ford ever had to help a Stanford stop their Stanley from committing suicide? I read a fanfic a few months back called Salt Water in my Veins by a_solitary_marshmallow on ao3 and I kept thinking about it a lot. It's where Stanley tries to drown himself in the ocean after getting kicked out and Stanford, having second thoughts, goes out looking for him, finds him and sees what he's doing, and runs into the ocean after him to pull him out before it's too late. Using a scenario like that as example, is there a dimension where Stanford tries to save his Stanley in the same or similar way but ultimately can't do it on his own and Ford has to intervene?

I couldn't help myself, lol. I tried out an alternative way of answering asks and I gotta say it was fun, so I'll probably start answering more asks like this when inspiration strikes me!

He wasn't going to make it.

Ford had stupidly tripped the moment his shoes hit sand and he'd fallen, wasting precious seconds scrambling back to his feet. He didn't have time to take off his coat or shoes so he didn't run the risk of drowning, the water weighing him down and making him slower as he charged into it.

It was so cold and Ford couldn't see Stan anymore, his brother swallowed by the black abyss. The ocean has never looked so terrifying before. Still, Ford pressed onward, wading deeper and deeper as he shredded his vocal cords calling for his brother over and over again. Only the lapping waves and his own labored breathing answered him.

He was submerged up to his stomach now and he was sobbing because he already knew it was too late-

A figure surged past him and Ford blinked dumbly because they were running on the water, clad in a simple black tank top and equally black slacks with glowing boots. The weirdest part was the biker helmet that the stranger wore, because surely that would hinder him as he... did whatever it was that he was doing.

Which was diving into the black surf, apparently.

The stranger disappeared much like Stan had, Ford's heart in his throat as he watched the churning water settle. He was shivering, but he refused to leave the water until he either had his brother back or the ocean took him too.

The stranger erupted from the water, boots lighting up as he gracefully hauled both him and the limp figure in his arms up and out of the inky depths. Ford choked on a sob as the stranger adjusted his grip on Stan to prop the unconscious -he's just unconscious, please let him be unconscious- teen on his hip before coming straight for Ford.

Ford's vocal cords produced an undignified noise that he will deny emitting until death as he was plucked from the water by his belt, thrown over the stranger's shoulder like a sack of potatoes. And, in a blink, they were on the shore and the stranger was laying Stan down onto the sand, grabbing a utility belt from a pile of clothes that Ford hadn't noticed until just now.

Stan was so pale, so quiet, so still.

The stranger rolled Stan onto his side before grabbing a device that looked like a metal wand, pressing the tip to the center of Stan's chest before swirling it in three tight circles. Ford didn't dare interrupt the bizarre ritual as the stranger dragged the metal wand up Stan's throat all the way to his mouth, no less than a gallon's worth of water pouring onto the sand as Stan's body twitched.

Then Stan was choking, coughing up the last of the water before sucking in a wheezing breath. And it felt like Ford could finally breathe again too, frantically grabbing for Stan as he openly sobbed. Ford pressed his face to Stan's violently shivering body, listening to his rasping breaths and weakened pulse. But he was alive. His little brother was alive.

"I'll carry him to the car, you collect my things." A heavily altered voice instructed and Ford looked up, blinking at the stranger. Honestly, he'd forgotten that the stranger was even there. "I'll purchase a motel room for the next few days, your brother can stay there until he has recovered."

Ford couldn't make himself ask the burning question of why the stranger was doing this for them, why he cared so much. Stan was the only thing that mattered right now, the answers to his questions could come later. Stan was his number one priority and he would not forget that ever again.

[extinctlesspains]

heyy can you pls do a kwon x y/n story, that y/n and Kwon are already dating and their in the Sekai Taikai as captains, and y/n is kreeses granddaughter and she’s a literal SOCIOPATH and blud is insane 💀 and she saves him from his death by taking the knife before he grabs it and running with it with another guy (probably Diego from the spanish dojo) from a dojo chasing her upstairs and she casually just pushes him off the railing and he’s the one that dies and y/n gets away with it and she’s like ‘it’s not my fault, he shouldn’t of chased me and he knew about the knife) and Kwons kinda like ‘wtff’ but he’s so in love 💀💀

A/n: LMAOOO THIS IS GOOD😭 I worked really hard on this y'all... I hope u enjoy 😓💕

𝑆𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝐷𝑒𝑓𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒: 𝐾𝑤𝑜𝑛 𝐽𝑎𝑒-𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑔

𝐵𝑦 𝑒𝑥𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑡𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠

»»——⍟——««

»»——⍟——««

𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: 𝐾𝑤𝑜𝑛 𝐽𝑎𝑒-𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑔 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: 𝑡𝑏ℎ 𝑖𝑑𝑘... 𝐻𝑂𝑅𝑅𝑂𝑅? 𝑇𝐻𝑅𝐼𝐿𝐿𝐸𝑅?

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: 𝑆𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑑𝑒𝑓𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑏𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑛 𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑠, 𝑎𝑡 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑓𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑎𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢. 𝐼𝑓 𝐷𝑖𝑒𝑔𝑜 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑖𝑒, 𝑤ℎ𝑦 𝑑𝑖𝑑 ℎ𝑒 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢? 𝐼𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠𝑛'𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑢𝑙𝑡 𝑒𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟... 𝐼𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑑𝑒𝑓𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒.

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑏𝑏𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑐𝑟𝑎𝑧𝑦 𝑏𝑒ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑜𝑟, 𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑌/𝑛.

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

Kwon loved you. You were his partner, his love, his everything. Being the granddaughter of Kreese meant you were amazing at manipulation, combat, and you had ruthless intelligence. Enough to break a man in both body and man.

The way you carried yourself—poised, dangerous, and utterly indifferent to the weight of lives—was something that both terrified and fascinated him.

Today was no different. You stood tall at the forefront of the Cobra Kai team, your eyes scanning the other teams. Your expression was unreadable, but Kwon had learned to understand the little things—the subtle flickers of excitement behind those cold eyes, the way you moved ever so slightly when she was truly intrigued. He couldn’t help but admire you.

He thought today was no different yet it had become different.

It happened in the blink of an eye. As the match ended, a sudden commotion erupted behind you. A figure lunged at you from the shadows—Diego, the most dangerous fighter from the Spanish dojo, a man who’d been gunning you since their last encounter. He’d seen the way you moved, the way you fought, and he didn’t like it.

Kwon saw it all happening too fast and wanted to reach out and help you, but he already his hands full.

Diego was coming for you.

You didn't flinch, making your movements fluid, almost graceful, as you swiftly disarmed Kwon, who was holding a knife, when running past him. Your hand snatching the blade from his grasp before he could even comprehend what was happening.

In one smooth motion, you were on the move again, darting down the hallway with Diego hot on your heels.

Kwon’s heart raced as he began to follow, completely ignoring hi fight with Axel and leaving him baffled. There was something in the way you were moving now that made him hesitate. You weren't panicking. In fact, you were calm, almost too calm.

"Y/N!" Kwon shouted, running after you, his feet pounding on the stairs behind you. He saw Diego just behind you, the knife in his hand now, desperate to finish what he started.

You reached the staircase that overlooked the main arena, a steep drop to the lower level. You were running with fluid speed, effortlessly leading Diego up the stairs. But then, in an unexpected flash, you turned.

Kwon barely had time to process the movement before your hand shot out, shoving Diego in the chest. He didn’t even have a chance to scream before his body was sent careening over the railing, falling to the floor below with a sickening thud.

You casually brushed your hands together, as if nothing had happened.

You didn’t even look back.

Kwon stood at the top of the stairs, frozen in disbelief. His eyes locked on the twisted body of Diego sprawled at the bottom, blood slowly pooling beneath him. His thoughts were racing. What the hell just happened?

It was then that you turned to face him, your face eerily calm as you strolled back toward him, the knife still in hand. Your smile was so unsettling that it made his blood run cold.

"It’s not my fault," you said, tone utterly matter-of-fact. "He shouldn’t have chased me. He knew about the knife. He made his choice."

Kwon blinked, still processing your words. His heart was thudding in his chest. He knew exactly what you were saying, and part of him understood it, but the other part—the one that had been so in love with her—was beginning to unravel.

"You… you pushed him," he said, almost in disbelief.

You raised an eyebrow, expression never faltering. "Yes, I did," you replied simply. "But don’t worry. It’s not my fault. He was going to die anyway. If I hadn’t done it, someone else would’ve. It’s survival."

Your gaze softened for a moment, and Kwon swore he saw a flicker of something—regret, maybe? But it was gone just as quickly as it appeared.

You stepped closer, and for a moment, Kwon didn’t know what to do. Part of him wanted to shout, to be furious, but the other part—the part that had fallen for you, that couldn’t resist you—just melted under your gaze.

You were a monster, but you were his monster.

"I had to," she added with a shrug. "You understand, right?"

Kwon blinked, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts. He had always known you were dangerous—hell, he'd seen you kill before. But seeing you do it so... casually, as if it were nothing, unsettled him. And yet, he couldn't bring himself to be angry.

He reached out to you, pulling you close. His voice was soft, but there was a hint of something dangerous in it as he spoke. "You’re insane," he muttered, his forehead resting against yours.

You smirked, your hand trailing up his chest. "I know," you whispered. "But I’m your insane."

Kwon sighed, his heart still racing, but he couldn't deny the pull between you guys. You were a sociopath. You were ,terrifying. But you were his—and no one else would ever be able to tame you.

"Let’s go," You said, your voice light. "I’m bored of this place."

Kwon didn’t know whether he was going to survive this relationship. But he knew one thing for sure: He would follow you anywhere.

As you two walked off into the chaos of the Sekai Taikai, the crowd oblivious to the brutal death that had just taken place, Kwon couldn’t help but wonder what his life had become. But as long as he had you by his side, the world could burn, and he would still choose you.

After all, it was just self defense.

[ceilidho]

Me: I don't like fauxcest so I'll avoid the tag/ block any accounts.

Also me: I want a daddy Dom who's really big on being a prodiver, probably got daddy issues himself, is an older man and financially secure. Makes sure I'm fed, well dressed and happy. Maybe even makes me live with him so he can just freeuse me and have something to look after because he just really wants to-

Like. I know it ain't the same but everyday it feels like it's borderline treading into that territory and idk if I can face myself or have the strength to accept that about myself. Like I use to be a puritan prude in my youth so the fact I ended up with a daddy kink would make my teen self disgusted. But ya know, shit happens.

I probably won't ever pass over that territory as I do get icked out by the idea of referring to a sexual partner as 'dad' or anything like that. So it's clearly not for me but I need some people to look at themselves TRUELY look at the stuff they're into or want in a partner coz probably like me, they are one kink/good fic/wild fantasy away from the "gross icky kinks!!" They wanna ban so much

Ever since I became an adult and started exploring what I like, letting myself read fics I was like "I'm not gonna like this but I'm desperate for content" and then come out of a changed person - I do start caring less. Do I still have my own opinions and icks and such? Yeah but like, the best thing about the Internet is that you can just block tags, block people or images that don't agree with you. Keep to your bubble of people who agree with you and such, but like, if you're not atleast aware or open to the fact your views may be hypercritical or even abit weird or taboo yourself - that's just destined to fail.

I think a lot of people can't separate identity from interests either, or they feel incredibly locked in with their identity.

like, you're allowed to find things gross, block them, or enjoy reading certain topics but only to an extent (like you won't allow yourself to enjoy anything beyond your limit because you're scared about what you'll uncover about yourself). it's also fine to one day come back to those same things and reevaluate your original opinion.

I'm not sure how to describe this but I feel like a lot of people have this tendency to equate any Thing they enjoy with subsuming that thing into their personality/identity, and if you think that way, then obviously any potential interest seems like a Threat to the persona/identity you've been meticulously building your entire life. which is terrifying! i do understand that there's a large group of people that probably equate reading/enjoying any content that's remotely dark to a real life want.

I personally think the most generous thing you can do for yourself is say "okay, I enjoyed that. it doesn't have to mean anything." you can read the kinkiest erotica ever and then go on to enjoy a vanilla sex life (or no sex life! tons of asexual people enjoy erotica). it simply doesn't have to be a big deal.

and this is also not saying you have to enjoy or force yourself to enjoy content that disgusts you. the brain is just complex. if you're living life in a way that is compassionate and avoids causing harm to other people, but some of your interests/kinks tend to veer towards the dark/taboo, just give yourself the grace to realize that an interest is not this Big, Horrible thing that'll destroy you and turn you into something monstrous.

[whysoblue2]

Random word babble you can ignore about Shamura and Kallamar, but it's kind of fun to imagine the years when Shamura was still mostly a war god but they were also a new older brother to Kallamar and how that likely manifested at first.

Gods in general are pretty known for their selfishness, so I always end up imagining Shamura being a bit overprotective with Kallamar for a little bit and especially very possessive over Kallamar in general for longer while also being both more tending/loving and more aggressive in their actions to and about Kallamar because they're still, ya know, learning to chillax.

Which ends up with Kallamar being very confused in general and even more scared but also, at least a little bit, relieved and happy to finally have a safe space in Shamura. I can also definitely see Kallamar seeing Shamura as a sibling first before Shamura saw him as a little brother, but those feelings hit Shamura HARD in the gut, they weren't prepared at all. And it's just nice to think about

Oh, you make a lot of good points and I can see it! 

And sorry for the incoming wall of text, have a suffering Kall for your journey, friend!

When I wrote the chapter about Kall, I hinted at how their relationship worked in those years they were alone. 

To me, Shamura never really wanted to be a big sibling when he met Kall. They spared him out of pity and convenience because this squidling still had some power to unlock that they could exploit in their grand scheme of killing deities to reform a new pantheon.

So why was Kall always scared and insanely good with weapons? (yeah he was definitely the hardest fight for me, like 10 times harder than Shamura so I don't know if this is common or I just sucked, but it's part of my hc now). 

The first years they were together, it was hell for Kall! Shamura was brutal in their teachings and didn't care to be gentle or compassionate, even less empathic, all things that Kall is. 

So they taught him to fight, to kill and to go against his natural calling for healing by unlocking the power to harm with sickness. They did that through violence, through "tough love" cause ffs, god of war and all that. 

In my head, the scar on Kall's left eye is Shamura's doing, a mark they left to remind him who is in charge and that they could kill him any moment they wanted.

Things started to change slowly over the years. Kall was the one who "taught" Shamura love, and yes, I am 100% with you on the protective and possessive attitude. Kall became a precious ally, good at his powers, older, and an object of attention.

Kall indeed saw Shamura as a bigger sibling first to try and give meaning to that twisted Stockholm syndrome he was experiencing. He would love his jailer because he thought he could change them and make them better, heal them while being terrified of them.

The relationship evolved eventually, but I can see Shamura not letting Kall out of their sight, killing suitors or friends and imagining them as spies or assassins that could harm his precious little brother. 

You know "I do it for you, I love you and I want to keep you always safe"

Then Kall started to be more independent and they probably hated that, but they needed him for god-killing so they had to let him go and do his thing. 

When things got more chill, Shamura really loved Kall as much as Kall loved them, but I imagine that underneath the care and niceness that they showed to the other siblings, the feeling toward Kall would still be unconsciously toxic and possessive.

SO conclusions: I feel their relationship is unique compared to the other siblings. Kall has seen the very worst of Shamura and lived with them during that time. That gotta hurt, that is trauma. And that's why our favourite squid is scared all the time.

Thanks for the ask, I love rambling!

[xoxoch3rry]

𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕠𝕤

@ xoxoch3rry do not steal or translate my work.

Word count: 826

────

Stiles Stilinski x fem!reader

Warnings: None.

Summary: Stiles confesses his long-held love for you under the stars

────⊹ ࣪ ˖⋆˖ ࣪⊹────

Beacon Hills had an eerie way of being calm just before chaos erupted. Tonight, though, the calm was real—no looming threats, no supernatural disasters. For once, you, Stiles, and the rest of the pack had a rare, peaceful evening. The stars were out, scattered across the clear night sky, and you found yourself sitting on the hood of Stiles’s beloved Jeep, parked in the middle of nowhere.

You had always found these moments with Stiles comforting. The two of you had been close for years, your friendship filled with sarcastic banter, late-night talks, and a shared love of bad movies. But lately, things had started to feel... different. His lingering glances, the way his jokes seemed to carry a softer edge when he directed them at you, the way your stomach fluttered every time he smiled—something was changing, and it terrified you.

“You okay over there?” Stiles asked, pulling you from your thoughts. He was leaning against the Jeep, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie.

“Yeah,” you said, giving him a small smile. “Just... thinking.”

“That’s dangerous,” he teased, his brown eyes sparkling.

You rolled your eyes. “Funny. Really, though, I’m fine. Just enjoying the quiet.”

Stiles nodded, his gaze drifting to the stars. For a moment, you both sat in silence, the sound of crickets and the distant rustle of leaves filling the air. But even in the stillness, you could feel the weight of something unspoken hanging between you.

“Y/N,” Stiles said suddenly, his voice softer than usual.

You turned to look at him, surprised by the serious expression on his face. “Yeah?”

He hesitated, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie. “There’s... something I need to tell you.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Okay...”

He took a deep breath, as if trying to steady himself. “You know how, um, sometimes you think you’re totally fine just being friends with someone, but then you realize that you’re not fine? Like, not even close to fine?”

Your stomach flipped. “Stiles, what are you—”

“I’m in love with you,” he blurted out, the words tumbling out in a rush. “Like, head-over-heels, can’t-stop-thinking-about-you, I’d-follow-you-into-a-werewolf-pack kind of love.”

You stared at him, your mind racing to catch up with his words.

“I know I’m probably screwing this up,” he continued, running a hand through his hair. “But I’ve been keeping this to myself for so long, and it’s driving me insane. You’re amazing, Y/N. You’re smart, and funny, and way too good for me, and every time I’m around you, it’s like—”

“Stiles,” you interrupted, your voice shaking slightly.

He froze, his eyes wide as he waited for you to say something, anything.

“I...” You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. But then you saw the way he was looking at you—hopeful, nervous, completely vulnerable—and suddenly, it all clicked.

“I love you too,” you said softly, the truth spilling out like a secret you’d been keeping for far too long.

Stiles blinked, his mouth opening and closing like he couldn’t quite believe what he’d just heard. “Wait, really?”

You laughed, the sound lighter than it had been in days. “Yes, really. Did you think you were the only one with feelings here?”

He grinned, his entire face lighting up in a way that made your heart melt. “Well, yeah, kind of. I mean, you’re you, and I’m just... me.”

“Stiles,” you said, sliding off the hood of the Jeep and stepping closer to him. “You’re more than ‘just you.’ You’re everything to me.”

His grin softened into a smile, and for a moment, the two of you just stood there, the world around you fading into the background. Then, without thinking, you reached up and cupped his face in your hands, pulling him down into a kiss.

It was soft at first, hesitant, but then he kissed you back, his arms wrapping around your waist as if he was afraid to let you go. Time seemed to stop, the only thing that mattered was the way his lips moved against yours, the way his hands felt warm and steady on your back.

When you finally pulled away, you were both breathless, your foreheads resting against each other.

“Wow,” Stiles said, his voice a little shaky. “That was... wow.”

You laughed, your cheeks flushed. “Yeah. Wow.”

He pulled you closer, his arms tightening around you as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“Probably as long as I have,” you teased, your smile matching his.

“Then I guess we’ve got a lot of time to make up for,” he said, his grin turning mischievous.

You couldn’t help but laugh again, the sound echoing through the quiet night. And as Stiles pulled you into another kiss, you realized that, for once, everything felt exactly as it should be.

[cryptid-killjoy]

The longer this went on the more alive Arthur felt. It was thrill. It was arousal. He was boner bulging hard and he was a guy who couldn't always get it up due to meds and medical issues in life. So, this only went to show exactly how horn-dog arousing this was for him. It was fear. He was terrified of being caught where he shouldn't be, but too scared to move either. He didn't want to move. Everything in him wanted to hear more. See more. All while there was an urge to run and he'd lost his damn leg.

Delta got louder as Frank upped the stakes flittering her clit keeping her on the edge. She asked to be taken out of her mind and words started to hold no meaning to her. Only Frank. Frrr. Frrr. Frrr's started to roll off her tongue. Garbled sounds. Arthur hadn't heard a girl react like that in real life, not to him.

The temptation was getting the better of him. He put a shaky hand on the floor to balance as he stretched his neck to see around the corner. Frank had a way of making him feel inadequate in one glance.

It was hard in a moment like that not to think of the time before Frank when he thought he had a chance with Delta, back when he used to try to get her to notice him. It was even harder to not compare the time he'd spent or even time with his own girlfriend. THAT was not how he'd ever gotten her to react. Not even close. Every time Delta teased him about probably not being able to get it up just to be a bitch knowing she wasn't going to put out anyway even though at the time he didn't know that kept going through his head. She got off on him trying for some reason. Then all the time his end-of-life girlfriend told him it was okay and that it happens sometimes went through his head. He knew sometimes it was because he still wished she was Delta. It was just so hard in a moment like this to not recall the time he used to fantasize about being the guy to be able to appease Delta.

He should go. He should go. He should go. He kept telling himself.

Frank could please her. Good fucking God Frank could please her. Then right as he convinced himself to go Delta came. It was so obvious she came. It wasn't like when he had to ask his girl did you come? It was so damn clear Frank just made her cum and cum so hard and long. For a minute he was confused. He was actually thinking can girls cum that long? Is that possible? Dear fuck what is he doing to her under there to make that physically possible? Someone needed to document this for science.

Then as everything quieted down and Delta was left in some murmuring state with a blissful smile against the breeze, spent, and slumping, slowly gyrating her hips back to enjoy a softer motion not wanting it to completely end, Arthur realized he was staring too long.

Fuck.

He couldn't help but be a bit mesmerized by it all from the way Frank handled her to the clear pleasure she was in. It was weird the thoughts that went through a guy's head at this point. It wasn't like he ever thought Delta was giving up Frank. They were meant to be. Arthur knew that and made peace with that a long time ago. But considering he once had thoughts when they were younger to see that now he couldn't help but think that this was an act he could not ever follow. There was just no way he could ever satisfy her.

Then Delta turned around to face Frank. She was covered in her own blood at that point, but what turning around did was push reality in Arthur's face in a way that had him back to the stairwell when he caught sight of Frank's long, fat, still wet, biggest cock he'd ever seen. Reality check. Reality check. Alert! Alarm bells went off in head and he turned away fast.

He couldn't breathe.

Why was he comparing? Wasn't like Delta wanted him anyway.

"Mm Lurchy." She'd sound dazy like she was still in some dream state resting, leaning against him unready for reality herself. She'd flap her wings, and red droplets would spray out into the wind behind them and graffiti splatter more of the wall as she ran her tongue over favorite scars on his stomach.

Frank may have had the beautiful opportunity to be able to tell when she was feeling it so good not only by reading her body but also her mind, and she never quite knew when she was lost in it which his talent lied in the most, nor did she care. What she knew was when he got her going just right, just like that, he was God and the Devil all the same. He was the magic button and knew how to work it. She might have been the acid queen of this city, but he was the spark behind the magic. In her head he ignited all the power and that's the kind of admiration that would be behind her dragon-slitted eyes in the afters. She'd bite at the skin on his pelvis and take a deep breath of him in when she'd finally say, "Damn I love to get fucked. I needed that."

She looked down at herself as she reached for a hand to get some help up. "What's a Halloween party without any blood?" It was her way of saying she had no intention of cleaning up before going back downstairs to their guests.

That's when Arthur started to panic. He was right on the path to them going back to the party and yet he'd come all this way up to see them. He started to squeeze between his legs mentally telling it to go down. Go down. Go down. Go down stupid boner. Think about anything else he kept telling himself.

Then Delta moved to show Frank the back of her shirt. It was all lifted up weird because of her wings which weren't there when she got dressed. "Do me a favor? Rip a couple holes in the back of this so my wings can fit through. Then we'll go back down." She didn't want the back of her shirt all jacked up weird in the back.

Then with her leather wings out her dragony senses were tuning in and could suddenly hear breathing in the stairwell. She'd asked Frank to take her out of her head so maybe he'd turned off her connection to the link to the thoughts to give her what she'd asked for or maybe she was just being fucked so good she really hadn't noticed until right then. Either way when she did finally notice she looked at Frank and then over the entrance of the stair.

She actually made a tactless snort noise. Then in their mind link said, "Someone's still dreaming, huh?"

The cold added to the whole effect. Making the skin tense up, goosebumps, hardened nipples on both of them, making the warmth between them seem even warmer. Especially when he would bend over and breathe on the back of her neck, on the space between her wings where the blood is, warm split tongue licking it up, tasting it, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as if just that alone was enough to get him off. And it almost was.

Although their connection was mainly in their head, thought to thought, he couldn’t help saying some of the things outloud. The groans, the moans, the small compliments. It felt too big just to keep inside. His hands on that ass, pumping in and out of it, feeling her tighten and squeeze.

He just barely heard the sound of the leg falling down the stairs, the wooden thuds as it hit the stone stair case, descending down. Under her skirts, his hands went now, his thumb playing at her clit, wanting to feel Delta lose even more control, get there faster, as he started to feel closer himself. His thrusts grew harder, messier, his groans against her back, blood spreading around his mouth, in the complete throes of ecstasy here, all for those eavesdropping ears to pick up. Loud enough that they didn’t have a damn choice in the matter.

--

Gepetto had come in with those sage words, speaking like a wise man. It reminded Figaro of Mufasa in the Lion King movie, when he shows up to tell Simba, Remember who you are. Remember who you are, Figaro. And remember where home is. Even as the crazy world keeps on changing, somehow, you still have a home. A big part of that was thanks to Willem, since his relation to Captain Hook had been good enough to win them continued residence in Feral.

When they looked up to Willem now, despite the ol’ sweaty eyes, they were grateful in that moment. That’s what they took from their father’s message. They had that home because Willem fit in with the weird little Funkytown family perfectly.

“Oh, I get a husband tonight, moi?” They asked, wiping their runny nose with the back of their hand, and tried to pretend for a moment that everything was alright. “Definitely not something I thought I’d ever get, but cool, I can work with that, I’m nothing if not adaptable.”

“Well… hubs,” They said, tapping their chin, looking around, trying to think of what to do. “Let’s go do what you were going to do, and the I say we go Tubthumpin’ Chumbawumba style back at Funkytown with the crew. I’ve always wanted to raid Livvy’s uncle’s closet anyway."

[tsartistry]

I love the Niobe kidnaps Lester AU! I’m already so invested in it! But I have many questions…

1. How does Leto (aka mama Leto) feel about this?

2. What is/how are the Apollo kids feeling? Are their powers not working as much or what?

3. How is Olympus doing? Is someone doing apollos work? Are they trying to investigate or are they trying to pretend that nothing is happening?

4. Did Lester/apollo gain their powers back before Niobe kidnapped him? And since he’s being brainwashed did he forget he does have powers if he gained them again or are they just completely gone?

5. Will Lester/apollo have a love interest?

And last question for this post I swear lol does Lester/apollo ever show signs of their powers once and awhile? Like for example if their hair starts to go blonde suddenly?

Sorry for so many questions, I’m just so invested in this AU ever since I discovered it lol I keep going back to this tag just to reread everything :3

1. How does Mama Leto feel about all this?

in a nutshell?

For the past several thousand years, Leto's had a lot of trust in Zeus. Even during Apollo's trials, while she was begging him to end the trials and restore her son's divinity, she still trusted him. Surely if Apollo succeeded at his trials, then Zeus would keep his word and restore him to Olympus. And if he failed -- she did not want to think about him failing, but she still trusted she would see her son again. Somehow.

But now, it's not a matter of success or failure; Apollo is just gone. Leto can't find any trace of him, and suddenly Zeus isn't giving her any answers. She can't exactly bring wrath down upon the King of the Olympus the way she did Niobe millennia ago. All she can do is ask everyone she knows for help finding her son, and stew in her worry as she waits for any scrap of information.

She's not doing great.

(Whenever she finds out about Niobe's involvement, all that anxiety turns into RAAAAAGE)

2. What is/how are the Apollo kids feeling? Are their powers not working as much or what?

Their powers are weakened, but still working! Their spirits... not so much. It's not like Apollo to give them radio silence. When they ask the other gods for information, they provide no answers. But where Leto was filled with anxiety, the Apollo kids are on the cusp of despair. The only thing they're holding on to is Nico saying he didn't feel Lester die; But if that's the case, where is he?

3. How is Olympus doing? Is someone doing apollos work? Are they trying to investigate or are they trying to pretend that nothing is happening?

I hadn't thought about who was doing Apollo's work, but thinking about it now, it's probably either Hermes or Artemis. Maybe they switch off? Hermes has a precedent for handling Apollo's animals, and Artemis would want to ensure her brother's position as sun god is cared for and not usurped. She saw what happened to Helios, after all.

But Olympus is tense. Zeus is convinced that Apollo went into hiding, perhaps hoping that Zeus will come begging for him to come defeat Python --

Oh, yeah, Python's still around, by the way! He's still digesting the power of the Triumvirate, and still has complete control over Delphi, and there is now a risk of him using his power and position to start taking control of fate. With every day that passes, the serpent's power grows, and the tension among the Olympians builds.

Unfortunately, fate has decreed the absent Apollo would be the one to defeat the serpent. But Zeus will not stoop to begging Apollo to come back; That would be showing weakness! He's fine waiting out his son's little tantrum. He's just making it harder for himself, after all; Every day Python grows more powerful. But that's Apollo's problem. Why should Zeus be worried about an evil serpent possibly taking control of fate itself?

Yeah, Zeus is panicking. He pretends to know where Apollo is, but he's as clueless as everyone else, and it's terrifying. Even in the guise of a mortal, what could make an entire god disappear so suddenly? And could Python pull the strings of fate to force the Olympians to fall?

Despite his efforts to look cool and collected, the other Olympians are starting to see the cracks in his facade. Poseidon especially is starting to smell blood in the water, so to speak.

4. Did Lester/apollo gain their powers back before Niobe kidnapped him? And since he’s being brainwashed did he forget he does have powers if he gained them again or are they just completely gone?

I wouldn't say they're gone, but I would say he does not have access to them. The power still exists, but he cannot reach it.

The brainwashing and the lost powers are two separate things that were done to him. Niobe actually did some magical shenanigans (with the help of a Greek goddess I won't name just yet, it's someone who has never appeared in the Riordanverse) to actually remove parts of Apollo's soul to prevent him from accessing them.

5. Will Lester/apollo have a love interest?

I don't have any plans to write any romance for Lester, but who knows, maybe as I'm writing I'll get struck with inspiration! But the story's already complicated enough, haha, romance might tangle it up even more.

And last question for this post I swear lol does Lester/apollo ever show signs of their powers once and awhile? Like for example if their hair starts to go blonde suddenly?

Yes! While he's lost access to most of his powers due to Niobe's meddling on top of Zeus turning him mortal, she overlooked his music powers! It's actually a plot point that he can use music and rhythm to guide people's emotions and movements.

I like to imagine that if he practices hard & concentrates, he can trigger an entire diegetic musical number. The kind where he can get a whole crowd singing and dancing together. Unfortunately that sort of thing is difficult to convey in writing.

Sorry for so many questions, I’m just so invested in this AU ever since I discovered it lol I keep going back to this tag just to reread everything :3

aaa that makes me so happy!! Please don't feel bad about asking questions, it helps me fill in details I hadn't thought about before :D

speaking of Apollo's music powers, here's a bonus doodle

[urdreamydoodles]

Hi, do you have a request? If so, could you make Bane and Scarecrow (separately) if their crush confesses his feelings to them? (You can add other villains if you want) have a nice day :D

Bat-Villains x Reader

You confess your feelings to them

Characters: Joker, Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, Bane, Scarecrow, Two-Face, The Riddler & The Penguin

Being in my Batman-Comics era, this made me so happy, thank you! Hope you like it <3

Joker

- Confessing your feelings to the Joker is a feat in itself. His mind is a labyrinth, twisted and sharp, and he hardly ever makes it easy for anyone to get close. So, when you manage to muster up the courage and spill your heart out, he’s taken aback. His smile is unnervingly wide, but there’s a flicker in his eyes—a flash of curiosity and something darker that makes you wonder if he actually reciprocates.

- Joker’s interest in you grows even more as he realizes you’re different from his typical followers. You aren’t afraid of him, nor are you drawn in by just his dangerous allure. You’ve seen past his twisted laughter and manic acts, and you still want him. This intrigues him, even bothers him a little. How could anyone see anything in him other than madness? Yet, there you are, looking at him like he’s human, and it’s both terrifying and intoxicating to him.

- He teases you relentlessly after your confession, never letting you forget the vulnerability you showed him. “Oh, darling, you’re just too sweet for me,” he’d purr with a devilish grin, leaning in way too close. He loves watching you squirm, enjoying every bit of control he has over your emotions, almost like a game. But deep down, there’s a hint of admiration. You’ve got guts, and he respects that.

- The Joker’s way of showing affection is, naturally, unconventional. Sometimes it’s an offhanded compliment; other times, it’s a madcap scheme he drags you into, letting you play a part just because he wants you close. When he pulls you into his schemes, he’s almost like a kid showing off his toys, reveling in your reactions—whether it’s awe, excitement, or even horror. It thrills him to know he has that effect on you.

- Every so often, though, you catch him staring at you with a look that’s almost soft, a dangerous vulnerability creeping into his gaze. He covers it up quickly with a quip or an exaggerated gesture, but you know you saw something real. It gives you hope, even though you know that being with him will always mean walking the tightrope between love and chaos.

- Over time, Joker starts to grow possessive. It’s subtle at first—a smirk when he sees others vying for your attention, a warning look thrown at anyone who gets too close. But before long, he’s unapologetically possessive, wanting you at his side, sometimes even in situations where he wouldn’t usually bring someone along. “You’re mine,” he’ll say with a dark, playful tone that sends chills down your spine.

- Joker will never admit he has feelings for you outright, but in his way, he shows it. The more he involves you in his world, the closer he brings you to his madness, the clearer it becomes. To him, love is chaos, control, and the thrill of having someone he can warp and twist yet who willingly stays. You’ve become his favorite muse, his inspiration, the one who reminds him that even monsters can find someone to care for, in their own twisted way.

Harleen Quinzel aka. Harley Quinn

- Harley is surprisingly giddy when you confess your feelings to her. She’s spent her life surrounded by people who see her as a joke or Joker’s sidekick, so to have someone see her as her own person—and even like her for it—makes her heart swell. She’s blushing like crazy, giggling with delight, and probably wraps you in a tight hug before you can even process her reaction.

- As bubbly and playful as she is, Harley takes your confession seriously. She’s been through enough heartbreak and knows what it’s like to be used or ignored, so your affection means the world to her. She’ll ask you so many questions, wanting to know every little thing you feel, why you like her, and what you think of her quirks. She wants to believe it’s real, but part of her is scared it’s too good to be true.

- Harley is incredibly affectionate, and once she knows you care for her, she’s not shy about showing it. Expect surprise hugs from behind, spontaneous kisses, and laughter-filled moments. She’s like a whirlwind of emotions, sometimes leaving you breathless with her enthusiasm. She loves to make you laugh and will go out of her way to cheer you up, even if it means pulling out her silliest antics.

- She also starts to show a fiercely protective side, a side of her that you usually only see when Joker’s around. Harley may be quirky and fun, but she’s also a skilled fighter, and she won’t let anyone mess with you. She’ll even pick fights with people who look at you the wrong way, shooting you a grin afterward and saying, “Nobody messes with my sweetie and gets away with it!”

- Despite her tough exterior, Harley is vulnerable with you in a way she rarely allows herself to be. She’ll open up about her insecurities, her past, and her struggles with self-worth, trusting that you won’t judge her. She’s scared of being abandoned, of not being enough, and it’s clear in the way she clings to you a bit tighter than she would anyone else. It’s her way of telling you she doesn’t want to lose you.

- Harley’s loyalty is unwavering. Once she’s fallen for you, you’re as good as family to her. She’ll bring you little gifts, things that remind her of you, and surprise you with thoughtful gestures. Whether it’s a flower she picked up or a silly trinket she found, each one is given with a smile and a “This reminded me of ya!”

- With Harley, every day is unpredictable, a mix of chaos and love. She might drag you into wild adventures or plan the most unconventional dates, but through it all, she’s committed to making you feel cherished. She’ll never hide her feelings for you, wearing her heart on her sleeve and reminding you every chance she gets that you’re special to her, her own little piece of sanity in a world gone mad.

Pamela Isley aka. Poison Ivy

- When you first confess your feelings to Poison Ivy, she’s quiet, studying you with that piercing, assessing gaze of hers. She doesn’t let emotions cloud her judgment easily, and she needs to be sure your words are genuine. But when she realizes your feelings are sincere, there’s a rare, subtle softening in her expression. Her walls don’t crumble easily, but for you, she might just let one or two down.

- Ivy’s affection is a quiet, powerful force. She’s not overly demonstrative, but her way of showing she cares is through small gestures that speak volumes. A soft touch of her hand against yours, vines that subtly wrap around you protectively, or even a single, precious flower left for you in a place she knows you’ll find. Every gesture from her is intentional, calculated, and rare, making it all the more precious.

- One of her favorite ways to spend time with you is in her greenhouse. She’ll invite you to work alongside her, teaching you about the plants she loves as if they’re old friends. Sometimes, she’ll even let you help nurture the rarest ones, a gesture of trust few ever receive. She finds it soothing to have you nearby, feeling like a kindred spirit amid the chaotic Gotham world.

- Ivy’s protective nature is fierce. She sees the world as cruel and selfish, and anyone who hurts you quickly becomes a target of her wrath. If anyone so much as tries to harm you, they’ll find themselves facing the fury of the natural world—thorns, vines, and deadly spores at Ivy’s command. But with you, she’s gentle, careful, almost reverent, knowing that you see the good in her that others overlook.

- Ivy isn’t one for typical romance, but she enjoys creating beauty just for you. She might grow a unique plant in your favorite color, a species found nowhere else, just to show her affection in her own way. It’s her version of saying “I love you” without needing the words. And sometimes, when she catches you admiring her creations, she allows herself a rare, genuine smile.

- Though Ivy is usually serious and somewhat reserved, she has a playful side she only shows around you. Sometimes, she’ll playfully summon vines to brush against you or weave a flower crown for you, a small smile tugging at her lips as she watches your reaction. In these quiet moments, you can see the softness she hides from the rest of the world.

- Ivy is drawn to you because of your calmness and respect for the natural world, something she finds rare in Gotham. You’re like a breath of fresh air, and she finds herself surprisingly at peace around you. She might not be able to put it into words, but she knows that being with you makes her feel connected in a way she hasn’t before, making you her safe harbor in the storm of her mission.

Bane

- When you confess your feelings to Bane, his reaction is one of quiet surprise. He’s not used to hearing confessions of love—respect, fear, yes, but love is something rare in his world. He’s silent for a moment, his intense gaze holding yours, and there’s a flicker of something softer behind his usual stoic expression. For a man like him, vulnerability is dangerous, but with you, he’s willing to risk it.

- Bane’s love language is protection and physical presence. He doesn’t rely much on words but instead lets his actions speak for him. He’ll always be by your side, a solid and unbreakable presence, making sure you feel safe in his care. It’s his way of telling you that as long as he’s around, nothing in this world will harm you.

- Though he may seem intimidating, Bane has a gentle side he only shows to you. He’ll be mindful of his strength, his touch light and cautious, always making sure he doesn’t hurt you. If you’re ever in danger, however, his calm façade drops instantly, and his fierce, unyielding side comes forward. In his eyes, protecting you is non-negotiable.

- Bane loves sharing stories with you about his life and past, opening up in a way he rarely does with anyone else. His voice is deep and steady as he recounts his upbringing, his struggles, and his victories, wanting you to understand who he is beyond the mask of strength. He doesn’t hold back, trusting that you’ll accept him, scars and all.

- Despite his hard exterior, Bane has a surprisingly romantic side. He might bring you something small but meaningful, like a flower he picked from a rare spot he found on his travels, or a trinket that reminds him of you. He isn’t vocal about his affection, but each gesture is thoughtful and sincere, a sign of the care he holds for you.

- Bane admires your calm, composed nature, finding it a perfect balance to his intense personality. With you, he feels at ease in a way he never thought possible. You’re a reminder of the peace he’s always sought but never quite found until now. Sometimes, he’ll sit in quiet contemplation with you, enjoying the stillness of your presence.

- In private, Bane allows himself to be more vulnerable, letting down his guard and showing you his softer side. He might even let you touch his face, something he rarely allows anyone else to do, leaning into your touch with closed eyes as if grounding himself. In these moments, you’re the only one who sees the man beneath the mask, the one who loves you fiercely and would do anything to keep you safe.

Jonathan Crane aka. Scarecrow

- When you confess your feelings to Jonathan Crane, it surprises him. He's so consumed by his own dark philosophies and fear experiments that he's not used to genuine affection. He looks at you, studying your face as if you’re another psychological puzzle to solve. But he sees no ulterior motive in your eyes, and, though he rarely shows emotion, there’s a flicker of vulnerability in his gaze.

- Jonathan expresses affection in a rather unconventional way. Instead of typical romance, he offers you pieces of his twisted intellect. He might discuss his latest experiments or philosophical thoughts with you, valuing your opinion in a way he seldom does with anyone else. If he asks you to assist him with his research, it's his odd way of showing trust and letting you into his world.

- Crane finds comfort in your calm and composed nature. For a man who thrives on fear and chaos, your grounded presence is a rare stability. He’ll often sit in silence with you, just observing or talking quietly about his theories. The quiet moments you share become a reprieve from the relentless psychological battles he wages with Gotham.

- The Scarecrow isn’t one to be overly affectionate, but he shows a dark protectiveness toward you. If anyone even thinks of causing you harm, Jonathan will unleash his full arsenal of fear-inducing chemicals without hesitation. He may not be expressive with words, but he’s ruthless in ensuring no one dares to cross you.

- One of his subtle ways of showing affection is by sharing his fears with you, something he keeps hidden from everyone else. He’ll discuss the fears he had growing up, or his fascination with understanding fear in all its forms. Sharing these secrets with you is his way of revealing the man behind the mask, trusting that you’ll accept his complexities.

- Jonathan admires your resilience and ability to stay calm, even in his most chaotic moments. You’ve become a constant in his life, and though he won’t openly say it, he finds himself feeling at peace when he’s near you. He may even develop a rare habit of reaching out to hold your hand, an act he considers a grounding tether in his unpredictable world.

- Sometimes, he’ll leave small notes or bookmarks in the psychology books he knows you’ll read, with cryptic messages or quotes that he knows will make you think. It’s his way of letting you into his mind without having to speak it aloud, and he takes pleasure in watching you puzzle over his hidden meanings.

Harvey Dent aka. Two-Face

- When you confess your feelings to Harvey Dent, you can see the internal struggle play out on his face. Harvey—the man he used to be—is vulnerable and hopeful, while Two-Face, the darker half, is wary and skeptical. It’s rare to see him so conflicted, but when he realizes you’re sincere, he gives you a small, tentative smile, one of the few true ones you’ve seen.

- Harvey’s love language is mixed with his duality. Some days he’s sweet, protective, and deeply caring, a glimpse of the old Harvey who fights to emerge. Other days, his darker side takes over, and he becomes more distant, protective but harsh. He’s constantly at war with himself, but he does his best to show you both sides, hoping you’ll accept him fully.

- A symbol of trust for him is letting you hold his two-headed coin, the one he uses for all his decisions. He’ll let you flip it, letting you “decide” for him in those moments when he’s overwhelmed. This is an enormous gesture from him, showing that he values you as a balance between his good and bad sides.

- Harvey’s protectiveness over you is intense and fierce. He’ll use all his resources to make sure you’re safe in Gotham’s dangerous world, and if anyone tries to harm you, he’ll make sure they regret it. His duality comes into play here—sometimes he’s gentle in his protection, and other times, Two-Face’s wrath is ruthless and merciless.

- On good days, he’ll reminisce with you about his life before the accident, sharing memories of who he once was. In these moments, he’s vulnerable and nostalgic, as if hoping you might remind him of his better nature. He doesn’t have many people he can trust, but you’re one of the few who sees the real Harvey underneath.

- Harvey loves to show you both sides of his life, taking you to high-end places and then to his more seedy hideouts, introducing you to the two parts of his world. He’s nervous about showing his darker side, but he trusts that you’ll understand him. It’s his way of including you in every aspect of his life, letting you in where few others ever go.

- He has a unique way of showing affection, giving you small, rare smiles or reaching out to touch your hand with his scarred one. He’s insecure about his appearance, but with you, he feels a bit more at ease. Sometimes, he’ll even catch his reflection with you in a window, seeing the contrast and finding a strange peace, knowing you accept him fully—scars, darkness, and all.

Edward Nigma aka. The Riddler

- When you confess your feelings to Edward, he’s taken aback, blinking in surprise before a smirk forms on his face. He immediately assumes you must be drawn to his intellect, as he sees himself as the ultimate puzzle. After the initial shock, he responds with a playful, “I knew you would eventually fall for my genius.” But there’s a genuine glint of excitement in his eyes, and you know he’s truly thrilled.

- Edward loves to impress you with his intellect, often challenging you with riddles or complex games he creates just for you. If you manage to solve his puzzles, it only makes him admire you more. There’s a playful arrogance in the way he’ll lean over your shoulder and whisper, “I didn’t make it that easy, did I?”

- Being with him means you’re his partner in crime (literally and figuratively), and he values your opinion on his schemes. He loves the idea of two minds working together and enjoys discussing plans with you, carefully considering any clever ideas you bring to the table. To him, you’re a rare equal, someone who can match him mentally—a compliment he doesn’t give lightly.

- Edward’s affection is quirky and, at times, even a bit competitive. He enjoys subtle one-upmanship with you, and if you can outsmart him, he’s surprisingly delighted, showing a rare sense of pride in your intelligence. He even begins to share details of his most elaborate plans, trusting you with things he wouldn’t tell a soul.

- His protectiveness comes in the form of setting traps and riddles to keep you safe. If anyone so much as thinks of harming you, they’re met with a labyrinthine trap or a series of riddles that they’ll struggle to solve. It’s his way of keeping you out of danger, knowing that his “defenses” will thwart anyone who poses a threat to you.

- Edward loves leaving you little riddles and coded messages to find, each with a hint of affection or admiration hidden inside. Whether he’s planning a date or just wanting to make you smile, he’ll slip a puzzle into your daily routine, and your clever responses only make him fall harder for you.

- Though he’s not the most emotionally open, Edward surprises himself by genuinely enjoying the softer moments with you. Whether it’s a quiet evening where you’re both reading or analyzing mysteries, he feels more at ease than he ever has. It’s new territory for him, but he cherishes every moment—even if he’ll rarely admit it outright.

Oswald Cobblepot aka. The Penguin

- When you confess your feelings to Oswald, he’s absolutely shocked, and he stammers for a moment. Used to people being interested in him only for his power and status, he’s genuinely moved by your feelings. He adjusts his suit with a confident flourish, but it’s clear he’s flattered, his eyes softening as he says, “You…really mean that?”

- Oswald is incredibly attentive and chivalrous toward you. He’s always quick to hold doors, pull out chairs, and offer his arm with a refined yet protective air. He adores treating you to the finest Gotham has to offer—luxury dinners, elegant galas, and private rooms in the Iceberg Lounge where it’s just the two of you.

- When he’s with you, Oswald can’t help but show off his power and influence. He’ll make sure you’re treated like royalty everywhere you go, and if anyone disrespects you, they’ll face his wrath. There’s nothing he won’t do to protect you, whether it’s using his connections or intimidating someone into compliance.

- He’s deeply proud of having you by his side, often flaunting your relationship publicly as a way of reminding others of his newfound joy. Though he’s a ruthless criminal, he feels a sense of pride and warmth in being with someone who loves him for who he truly is. In his own way, he strives to be worthy of you.

- Oswald has a softer, more vulnerable side that only you get to see. When he’s not putting on his “Penguin” persona, he opens up about his difficult past and insecurities, grateful to have someone who listens without judgment. He’s deeply grateful for your presence in his life, even if he has trouble expressing it directly.

- Oswald loves to spoil you with extravagant gifts, from rare jewelry to designer clothes. He takes great pride in watching you wear something he picked out, and he’ll always remind you, “Only the best for my love.” It’s his way of showing affection and devotion, compensating for what he lacks in typical romantic expression.

- If you’re ever threatened, Oswald’s protectiveness skyrockets. He’s not afraid to use his network of henchmen and connections to make sure you’re safe, even if it means crossing dangerous lines. Though he’s often ruthless, there’s a soft, fierce loyalty when it comes to you, and he’ll do anything to ensure you’re untouchable in Gotham’s treacherous world.