#trigger warning: mild panic attack

[theanarik]

Girl, wake up, new tanthamore 5+1 just dropped!!!!

Tittle: Worth the risk

Summary: Jade is not entirely sure how it all began, and she’s certain that Kit doesn’t either. One day she’s waiting for a coffee cup to go and then Kit is pretending to be her girlfriend to get a man off Jade’s back, one that didn’t seem to like or take a no for an answer.

Or: Five times Kit and Jade pretended to be in a relationship, and one time they didn't have to.

Read on A03

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Jade is not entirely sure how it all began, and she’s certain that Kit doesn’t either. One day she’s waiting for a coffee cup to go and then Kit is pretending to be her girlfriend to get a man off Jade’s back, one that didn’t seem to like or take a no for an answer. He didn’t back off, of course not; he became annoying after a while, talking at them about how he would be the one to cure them. He even insisted that he was into threesomes, and just got away from them when their disgusted faces became too much for him.

While that is something that Jade can pinpoint happening a not-so-while ago, she’s sure that there have been other instances of them just pretending to be each other’s partners when uncomfortable with others. At some point, Jade thinks, they agreed on a signal, something inconspicuous that they could do in public and that wouldn’t raise any eyebrows. They tried many things: hand movements, nose and ear scratches, tongue poking; but those never really stuck. It wasn’t until Kit realized that they both did the same gesture (scratch the back of their necks while avoiding eye contact) when uncomfortable that they figured out how to pull it off.

[lonelybeholding]

Gone

...Well, Mr. Omniscient, I don't quite understand how you don't already have all the answers to our little predicament."

That's a surprisingly insightful idea, Peter. One moment as I...

...

...

Uh, Elias?

...

Elias?

...

I...don't know. I don't Know. I...can't feel the Beholding.

Its presence isn't obscured, it's gone. I...

...I can't see.

I can't SEE, I can't—

Elias!

Elias, breathe.

You need to breathe.

...

...

I'm perfectly fine Peter, I don't know what you're talking about.

Elias.

...

[thatdeadaquarius]

Genshin Impact Sagau/Isekai:

You still have acces to characters! ...by possessing them. 👻

PART 2 (you're here!) / Part 1

All art by me! :] leave me a iced coffee?? :0

HEY!! REALLY QUICK PLEASE READ!

STOP tagging my posts as "Yandere Sagau", "Sagau Cult AU", "Sagau Imposter AU" or other related dark content tags.

I'm sick of seeing reblogs that tag my work as dark content, when I'm specifically trying to LIGHTEN UP THE SAGAU TAG 😭😭??

Please be more respectful of this. Actually read the work before you just tag it incorrectly. Tags do matter.

/nm /gen

☆

Sun: Gender Neutral Reader (they/them)

Planet: Misc. Genshin AUs

Orbit: Headcanons, Scenarios

Stars: Tighnari ft. Cyno, Alhaitham, Collei

Comets & Meteors:

Content Warnings: Mild violence (bandit attacks/non-graphic), Reader/you possess people non-consent (mild/consent given eventually)

& Trigger Warnings: Reader/"you" possess people non-consenually for short times, but given consent eventually.

(pls comment if any more!)

Edit 9/7/23: 1,000+ NOTES?? WHO WHAT WHEN WHERE WHY- THANK YOU???

Edit 12/24/23 + 4/5/24:

☆

My goofy ass forgot to put this here .-.

Anyway this is a full length fanfic now ;)

…mistakes were made.

bad decisions were had, and okay, mayyybbbeee you could’ve taken more precautions against people finding out you were “real”.

afterall, you did see the Eremites reaction, even if it was only two guys (one from each camp) that you possessed :/

word spreads quickly amongst the Eremites groups, you guess, bc next thing you knew, after you’d moved closer to floating around Gandharva Ville,

they’d called that entire bit of forest haunted.

BUT IN YOUR DEFENSE-!! how were you supposed to know they’d blab to the whole camp they didn’t remember the past 20 minutes after you unpossessed them?? and immediately be on guard and jump to possession?? (Irminsul works hard but eremites/sumeru people work harder u guess)

And by the time you were happily patrolling with Collei, the forest rangers were just so chill you didn’t really expect anybody would think a ghost was possessing them (or whatever you were now… maybe,, just code?? it’s unclear)

so when u start to see Tighnari squint at people who’ve technically just “woken up” after you possessed them, mumbling under his breath more and more as a file he carries around gets thicker and thicker-

you start to think,,, maybe.

okay, mayyybbbeee,

you’ve fucked up.

◇

You really can’t help it, first it was making sure Collei got back safely from patrols (she’s ur skrunkly okay, you can’t help it, you’re still aware she’s capable but- the urge to skrunkle overpowers you- )

but then-!! You managed to spot Cyno! :D its ur boy!! ur little meow meow, who can throw people over his shoulder!! He really doesn’t need you, hovering around, but eh ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯

what could it hurt! …it’s not like he can see, hear, or feel you anyway…

(unless u possess some animal/machine he thinks is friendly, which. sumeru is not exactly known for cuddly creatures. you don’t feel like experiencing death when possessing stuff just yet-)

imagine ur panic and shock as the General Mahamatra takes on a camp of criminals on the run, only for one of the old ruin machines (the ones that are just LEG and DEATH)

to hear the ruckus and come stomping around a thick patch of trees, it launched missiles!! You can’t warn Cyno, he can’t hear you!! No one can!!! The criminals are unconscious, there’s no other wildlife nearby they all ran off!!! FUCK-

You look at him and try to imagine his perspective as vividly as you can, he’s looking over the criminals, but now he’s turning, so people passed out and the tree-line got it-

Congratulations! You’ve possessed Cyno. 💀

It completely disorients you for a second, but then the panic of dodging the missiles comes back in time for you to make his body dive and roll off to the side, for as long as you can manage a roll too since you remember that’s the best way to dodge missiles in the game

…which works really well! bc he’s so fit and agile tbh

It was weird to finally run again after so long (two months now in teyvat?? wow)

with your feet suddenly in sandals, and feeling the breeze chilling your bare chest (Cyno’s chest??)

yeah its a shock considering most of the ppl you’ve possessed lately have been fully clothed rangers lol

you quickly imagine your ghostly form again, and just like that you’re drifting out of Cyno in ur “ghosty” form, having floated out and away from his back

Poor guy looks so fucking confused, and immediately is wielding his spear again, and is about to get out the crouch you put him in behind the dilapidated stone wall (dammit he better not waste ur efforts to keep him alive-)

until missiles slam and explode against it, he ducks back down (thank fuck) and Cyno just looks around one last time before hopping the wall and running to fight the thing

you notice that when the electro user goes to use his powers, they seem stronger than they were in his fight with the goons??

Maybe he was just going easier on them, since they are only human?

…so why does even Cyno look surprised when he goes to make a simple swipe with his charged spear and a bolt of lightning cracks out from his spear instead…?

…weird.

◇

Tighnari knows you’re here.

You figure he must have collected the reports of people “blacking out” or “sleep-walking” or whatever else and begun to suspect the worst.

…to be honest, you’re not sure what to do.

on one hand, it would be great to have someone know you actually exist, as yourself,

but on the other…

What would Tighnari think?

Of you possessing his rangers?? Temporarily taking ownership of someone without permission??? You’re afraid he’d think the worst of you…

tho u didn’t do so often, as u realized how messed up this could be, and u never did more than make them walk or talk normally for a few minutes before leaving them alone!

… afterall, you missed interacting with people. You were honestly a little worried abt going crazy, which is the only reason u were desperate enough to possess human people in the first place and continue doing so, just to talk to someone and have them look you in the face again like you really did exist as a person here-

(u thought u remember reading somewhere back on Earth that someone can only last 3 days of no other human contact until they start to lose it? but even if that’s not true, at the very least, u dont think talking one-sidedly to yourself all the time is healthy…)

so when Tighnari seems to get that file you’ve seen him adding onto, and gather up supplies, mentioning a day trip to Collei and the others to Sumeru City for some

“further research into these ‘blackouts’, and also contacting some of my colleagues who might know something…”

there’s no way you’re not going with him.

you feel increasingly anxious all day, and at one point when you were sure Tighnari was walled-in by books at the House of Daena, decide to go blow off the anxious energy by possessing an animal to get some food!

…you’re not really feeling comfortable enough to possess a living being into eating yet, that seems hella nonconsensual, and u kinda would be taking the joy of the meal from them tbh-

so u possess a cat!

a ginger cat, bc u like to think if u do anything weird, that ppl in Teyvat have the same type of cats back on Earth and excuse it as just:

“unhinged ginger cats being unhinged ginger cats yep makes sense” lol

you’d managed to be really cute (and wasn’t that weird, having to mimic animal behaviors like rubbing ur side against a person’s legs..)

and convince one of the cooks of Lambad’s Tavern to give u some leftovers, and been about to go off to try out sunbathing before the chore boy, little shit he is, tried to chase you off with a broom!! >:( the audacity!! you clearly have a little plate and everything!!

luckily, you’d finished eating, but still! Ouch!! those bristles fucking hurt-!!!

…you look and see a Sumeru-ified version of a skateboard, and u just know ur little cat face is just ✨v✨

and u steal the little shit’s skateboard as revenge! HAHA thats what you get animal abuser!!!

The kid’s yelling at you as you speedily skate away with ur little cat paws (LMAOO), but the cooks are calling him back in so he can’t pursue, (oh good u hear them get onto him for chasing u off)

and as u slow down to coast along the Sumeru streets,

you feel someone’s eyes staring you down.

You assume it’s just people being amused at a cat skateboarding, obv

but when you look just ahead of you to see a smiling Sumeru citizen or eremite-

Oh. It’s Alhaitham.

and he’s just… watching you.

he’s stopped reading whatever he’s got in his hand, and is slowlyyyy turning his head as you pass by…

You decide to just keep skating away. LMAO

◇

it’s already sunset by the you’re accompanying Tighnari back from Sumeru City, floating along behind him

and you’d been expecting a calm walk back, tbh you’d been feeling a little better bc the ranger hadn’t found much to identify you, yet, luckily-

but bc u can never catch a break:

Tighnari didn’t see the bandits dropping from the goddamn trees BEHIND HIM- and they had like claymores out- those were definitely gonna be killing blows-!!

so yeah.

You possessed Tighnari.

turns out ur pretty good at dodging bc this is second time now you’ve helped dive away for someone in an ambush, ur kinda proud of urself tbh💀

and as you make him take a few leaps back, ur ears twitch in the wind as you duck behind a tree, then float away and out of his body

The poor hybrid ranger visibly sways, then shakes his head out of it, and he flicks his ears in different directions, squinting into the woods, he’s pulled out his bow, so you’re at least reassured he’s aware there are enemies

Like Cyno last week, he too gives up and rolls for the next tree for cover and begins to shoot and take down the bandits

the rest of the week is kinda a blur after that, bc it’s mostly filled with Tighnari running in circles around the camp checking for blackouts, writing letters to Alhaitham and Cyno apparently, and you not possessing anybody out of paranoia :/

Most notably however,

you’ve unfortunately discovered one of the few drawbacks of ur possessions

(y’know, besides not existing essentially, what with no one being able to sense u outside of possessions)

apparently, if someone walks thru you, they accidentally force you to possess them 💀??

while it’d already happened once with a random ranger that you didnt notice was walking up behind you,

you didn’t want to test it again just yet bc it kinda made YOU nauseous and incredibly dizzy when this happened

(as in, u stumbled like a drunk after this poor ranger woman ran thru u, until you were so dizzy and the world spun sm u had to make her sit on the literal ground, luckily she just thought she was just really dehydrated when she came back into herself 😭)

so obviously, you’ve avoided crowds to keep this forced possession thingy from happening all the time

like at the Forest Rangers meetings or something, ur watching off to the side, instead of standing with them or beside them

so needless to say, after about a week and half since possessing Tighnari,

you definitely did not mean to possess Collei.

She’d been in her wheelchair today, the Eleazar flaring up and tiring her body out

so her wheels had been entirely silent when she rolled up to where you and Tighnari were leaning over some strange experiments of his- you were just trying to figure out what all these mirrors were for, didn’t he do plants more-?

you didn’t even know what the hell happened, you just felt that familiar dropping sensation, like a small drop on a rollarcoaster, blinked, and then suddenly you were sitting instead of standing/floating???

Oh god-

before you could even begin to process that Tighnari was in front of you instead of beside you, the world was shorter,

The fox-eared ranger yelled in triumph, grinning with sharp fangs and spinning around to look at you (Collei)-

“Ah-ha! It worked! Finally, I saw you! I saw you, I-?? Oh gods, Collei, NO-!”

And with quick reflexes, Tighnari’s summoned his bow, but he’s clearly confused on what to do about this situation, taking aim, but also holding the air glowing with dendro not as taunt as you’d seen him in the battle with the bandits

You scramble to raise your hands up, brown poofy sleeves rise to your command, light green hair you can feel on your shoulders, everything is familiar, but not-

“WAIT! I’m sorry!! This was an accident, I promise! I don’t intend to hurt Collei, or you!! Please, just, don’t shoot me, I think you’ll just hurt Collei instead…”

You talk him down and decide, that if he’s put this much effort into finding out about your existence, is an incredible leader and friend to everyone around him, and was able to accept the traveler and many other strange things that’ve (probably? maybe?) already happened in Sumeru (god fuck u dont even know where in the timeline you are)

that you can probably trust Tighnari with your existence, and your powers.

…He nearly passes out.

◇

Life has gotten a lot funnier, and happier, since you told Tighnari (and some of the more trustworthy rangers and Collei by proxy) about ur existence (or really, confirmed it)

He’d been wary at first, appropiately cautious and demanding answers, of which you were happy to give and explain yourself

luckily, after a whole lot of “hmm, I see, no, I think I’m understanding-” , finger on his chin and everything

he’s said it’s okay to hang around the rangers, so long as you don’t possess anyone anymore without them knowing about you/with permission (outside of emergency situations that is)

tho he did seem surprisingly understanding and accepting of you doing it before after you explained how u were just unbelievably lonely and were lowkey paranoid of going crazy-

The rangers seem to believe you’re some kind of god/spirit thing, as you had no explanation yourself as to what you were ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯

Tighnari’s also given you the rule to help out around here if you’re going to “ghost-laze around”, as he puts it lol

you’ve redirected ruin machines/feral animals away from rangers many times by now, to the many thanks and gratefulness of the rangers

you’ve even managed to even figure out how to push Collei’s wheelchair around when she uses it!

mostly by possessing tree after tree and using vines, or occasionally a fungi that can fly so you can nudge her along

she has insisted that you possess a ruin guard and carry her just to try it… however, Tighnari overheard her talking to the forest rangers’ dog (you) and immediately knew shit was up and banned you from doing it (at least not yet)

While most rangers are okay with you possessing them for a few minutes (and they’ve developed this bandana wrapped around their upper arms policy of “red = no possess, green = go ahead”)

Collei is the most okay with it and for longer, so you “won’t be that lonely ever again!” :’)

Tighnari is busy with stuff, so you can’t possess him as often, but the ranger has developed a theory that the more you possess someone, the more they can sense your feelings during possession/while floating around in ghost form too,

so he’ll occasionally feel you in the room with him, and start talking out loud in some one-sided convo to make you feel more included to make up for not being able to interact with him sometimes :)

(after taking you off his list of worries he’s still pretty swamped, not that he’ll tell you that, as he’s still not quite sure why he’s so, warm and safe feeling when you’re around, so willing to trust you so naturally, that it makes him want to at leats pretend to be worried abt a possessing ghost god/thing hanging out with the rangers now)

◇

basically everything is great!

the rangers are okay with you, they got a system to interact with you consensually, Tighnari and Collei are fond of you, you get to finally have something to do instead of floating around all the time (joining ranger missions)

and look!! they’ve even been kind enough to build you a little shrine or altar of sorts! Notes about Sumeru life, recipes for you to try, occasionally some books for you to read, and even some snacks/desserts for you to try out the next time someone possesses you and gives consent! (you leave them a little note stuck on their hand with your question for specific actions like that, if there isn’t another ranger there to ask for you when you unpossess them)

and everything is so cool, and everyone is so sweet and accepting

…Until Alhaitham shows up in Gandharva Ville, knocking on Tighnari’s door.

☆

AHHHH idk if this is any good! sorry it took so long, it was mostly the art 😭😭

anyway its not the best (the writing or the art) but i hope it’s at least some content to look at and be entertained for a minute!

also figured it was a good day to post what with the attack on our beloved Ao3 (tho i think it’s back up now?)

anyway, feel free to leave critiques on this one! (which I’ll probably turn this into a real fic one day soon, but not sure what to do with the plot/do a diff setup than this or what)

☆

sorry abt the radio silence! I just needed to close my mailbox bc i had a lot of stuff to answer, ur welcome to send submissions to chat/non-requests!

and also this took time to make (once again, mostly the art, bc thats how it always is with art isnt it 😭)

☆

Safe Travels Stranger,

💀♒

☆

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @justlostintheinternet   / @assassinsnake101 /@sun-wokung

If ur tag is here and didnt work, idk why!

Maybe see if your listed as a "searchable blog"?

[green-alm0nd]

Love your writing so much! Can you please do some separate headcanons of the bad batch who get assigned a female!general who’s super sweet and a total scaredy cat? Because of this, they’re SUPER protective (and jealous) of their dear general, especially when it comes to other regs! And of course as time passes, they begin to develop a crush on her

Hello! Of course I can! :p

[The Bad Batch x Jedi!fem!reader (headcanons)]: "I could never choose to love another"

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Summary:

In which the Bad Batch member you're in love with falls for you too.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: protective Batch, jealousy, fluff, mild mentions of Crosshair having a panic attack, and that's pretty much it. Not proofread.

Enjoy!

A/N: Thank you <3 and I hope you enjoy your request!

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HUNTER:

When Hunter first heard of becoming a general's squadron, he couldn't believe it. He and his brothers had been rejected by the Republic (in general), and suddenly, someone wants five clones on their squad? Unbelievable.

However, Hunter knew you were different when you first showed up and tripped over your own Jedi robe, got up, smiled and extended a hand to him. There was something in your eyes that made you different from the rest of the Jedi.

The more time he spent with you, the more time he got to meet you. At first, it was the usual jokes to break the ice; usual, playful banter; calm nights talking to his brothers... That's when Hunter saw your sweet side. There's a point where he started calling you by your real name whenever you were alone.

He literally became your protector, keeping you out of trouble whenever he could, avoiding food cantina fights so that you wouldn't get hurt, etc. He knows you can defend yourself, but there was always something that made him protective over you and his brothers.

Another reason you gave Hunter to be more protective over you was the fact that you got scared pretty easy. And, cherry on top, whenever Hunter saw you with regs, he'd become jealous and probably try to get you away from the regs as much as possible.

He didn't make it super obvious, of course. Then, he realised he might have fallen for you. However, he knew it was unprofessional, so he'd keep it to himself.

Though, he could not hide the slight blush that came over his face whenever you teasingly brushed your fingers against his calloused hands.

ECHO:

Now, Echo was happy his squad assigned to a new general. Ever since Skako Minor, he felt like the Republic had done little to nothing to try make him feel normal again. However, he was insecure about his general seeing him and rejecting him in some way.

Nonetheless, he immediately fell for you when he saw your bright smile, as your eyes came in contact with his.

Unlike Hunter, who took a long time to realise he had fallen for someone, Echo had the love-at-first-sight type of problem and he swore he'd keep it to himself. It was unprofessional and you were his general.

He found it endearing to see how scared you were of basically everything: bugs, surprise hugs, animals... However, that did not stop him from blushing every time you jumped in surprise and held his shoulders for support.

He's definitely protective over you, but he knows you can handle things. He trusts you completely and knows you won't get in trouble. He's not possessive nor jealous in any way (he's too sweet to be possessive).

Yet, he still feels a bit jealous when you prefer talking to the regs and sometimes will try to make a friendly conversation so as to keep you with him.

Again, Echo knows what he's doing. He knows he shouldn't confess to a person that's a higher rank than him.

But, his face turns red when your hands rest on his waist for a few seconds.

WRECKER:

Let's all be honest, Wrecker does not care who you are, as long as you like hugs. Because Wrecker gives lots of those.

When he first saw you arm wrestling a reg and you won, this man was ready to spar with you for the rest of his life. You were also very nice and polite.

I reckon Wrecker laughs when you get scared. Though, he does become serious and protective when there's something truly menacing happening.

He will not be bothered to beat up any reg if they're disrespectful or just mean. You're one of his only friends besides his brothers, and he feels the need to protect you.

He found out he was probably in love with you because 1) He asked Tech, and 2) He felt something pleasant in his stomach whenever you laughed.

Wrecker won't hesitate to show his love for you: whether it's by hugging, congratulate you for anything you do, let you sleep with his tooka doll...This man is not ashamed of showing how much he loves you.

He knows he shouldn't date someone in the middle of the war, but he can't help but hug you from behind and wishing you good luck whenever you go on a mission that's not with them.

TECH:

At first, Tech did not care who you were. To him, you were just another Jedi general. He hadn't heard from you, so he thought you'd want Clone Force 99 for their strength and not their personality.

Tech didn't pay much attention to you at first. But, one day, he started rambling about hyperdrives and noticed you listening. You were paying full attention and he couldn't help but blush a little.

This smart clone will be a tad surprised at how much of a scaredy cat you are. Maybe, you'll receive a comment or two from Tech, though they are harmless.

This is one of the reasons why Tech became overprotective. He started placing you behind him whenever something -or someone dangerous would happen to be there.

And, around the regs, Tech will get into a verbal fight whether they're mean or not. He registers the feeling he feels as jealous, and he will try anything to get rid of it.

That's when he realises that jealousy is laced with having feelings for someone. And he figured it was you since he felt jealousy when you were with other regs.

Tech knows he's risking his and your position if anything happened between your two, so he'll stick to telling you how beautiful you are through flowers.

CROSSHAIR:

Like Tech, Crosshair doesn't care either about who you are. He figures you didn't want to be a general for Clone Force 99 and you'd probably run away out of fear when you saw them.

At the sight of you, he couldn't deny you were beautiful. And he was genuinely surprised at you kindness, making him slightly fond of you the more time you two spent together.

Time passed, and he hated you for making him feel weird stuff on his stomach, yet he admired your sweetness towards anyone you met. This made you naive, but also endearing.

Cross will mock you for being a scaredy cat, but in reality, he will become more protective of you. Whenever a reg approached you, he was right behind you. He will listen what you are talking about, and, if things went bad, he will immediately come out of the shadows to protect you.

When he realises he's fallen for you, he tries to deny it and refuse to accept him. But the way you smile, the way you fight, and the way you are in general will keep him grounded.

There's a point where he won't deny it, and give subtle touches or a gentle nudge whenever he's around you.

Crosshair does not give a damn about the rules and the order, but he knows you'd risk everything, so he keeps his hands to himself most of the time (besides when he's doing the things from the prior paragraph).

However, the annoying butterflies will appear again when you stand opposite him whenever he's having a panic attack and you help him.

----

I hope you like it, anon :p

[reidmotif]

Safe and Sound

Summary: Reader comforts Spencer after she unknowingly does something to trigger some unhappy memories of his.

Prompt: Spencer Reid going through a panic attack because of Cat Adams. He asks Reader to stop calling him "Spencie".

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Angst (Happy Ending)/Smut/Fluff

Content Warning: descriptions of a mild panic attack, light allusions to Cat Adams/Prison, pre-established relationship, fluffy, loving smut, he's just super passionate and loves Reader, hickies, slight nipple play, female masturbation, oral sex (f!recieving), unprotected penetrative sex

Word Count: 3.5k

Spencer Reid felt like a cliche in all the best ways possible. From the way he took you on candlelit dinners on your birthday, to how he always found a way to wrestle a bouquet into your apartment right as the last one he’d given you before began to wither, you’d grown entirely fond of the man you’d met 6 months ago. A man you met possibly in the most horrifically cliche fashion.

You’d ordered a drink at a local coffee house, standing in front of the counter patiently, rocking on the backs of your heels as you waited for your drink to be called out so you could head onto work. Then came him. 

He was impossible to not notice. He was out of breath, and his leather satchel moved with him as he made a beeline to the counter you were standing at, long legs carrying him across the room swiftly as he grabbed a drink right as the barista put it down. Your eyes widened as you realized the drink he’d grabbed was actually your own, and you quickly put up your hands to warn the man before- 

His face scrunched up adorably as he swallowed the drink, and he looked physically pained, and upon looking at your bewildered expression, he grew sheepish. 

“That.. wasn’t my drink was it?” He said, slowly, putting the cup down. 

You try to play it off, taking the drink back and biting your lip a little at the antics of the man. “Unless you like straight black coffee, then no. Not your drink.” You say, letting a small laugh escape your lips. 

It was only then you got a good look at the man, and it wasn’t hard to not like what was in front of you. He had sweet doe eyes, and a mess of brown curls atop his head. His cheekbones were sharp, and yet there was a quality of softness to him, one that made your chest bloom with attraction and want. 

“I can pay for your replacement.” He offered, but you shook your head, offering a sincere smile. 

“Don’t even worry about it.” You take a sip from the drink where his lips had already touched and watch a rosy tint encapsulate his cheeks, and you internally smile at the thought that he too, could be attracted to you. 

“I actually really have to get going to work, but um-” You thought about how you could prolong your conversation with the man, find a way to look into those gorgeous eyes of his, to feel those plump pink lips against yours, until a name was called out by the barista beside you. 

“Spencer Reid?” And the sound of a coffee cup being placed on the counter could be heard. 

He grabbed the drink, and you took a second to notice his long, slender fingers grabbing the sleeve of the drink. You felt a blush rise to your face as you realized there was a way you could play the situation. 

“Hand me your cup.” You say, grinning a bit and reaching your hand out.

 Maybe it was corny. Maybe it was totally childish, but considering how goddamn cute the guy was, you weren’t about to let him go. 

He furrowed his brows a bit. “Are you going to drink from it to get me back or something?” He said, tilting his head as he subconsciously moved the drink out of your reach. 

You laugh, shaking your head. “No, silly. Just trust me.” You say, and the words seem to have a spell on him as he slowly hands you the coffee cup. 

You quickly take out a pen you’d been carrying on you and scribble the ten digits of your phone number, signing off with your name and a small heart next to it. You bite your lip as you hand the disposable cup back to him, watching as his confused expression turned to one of curiosity as he read what you’d written. 

“I’d love to take you up on that coffee some other time, if that’s alright?" You say, a bit bolder than you normally would have been, but for him? You were willing to embarrass yourself even the slightest bit at the off chance to spend more time with him. 

A flush of red spread across his face as he smiled at the cup, then you. 

“I’ll call you?” Spencer says, a small grin on his face. 

“It’s a date.” You say, mirroring his expression. You check your watch and realize you are beyond late for work at this point. “I really have to go but- I’ll see you around, Spencer!” You say, remembering the name from his coffee cup. 

“You too.” He says, and you leave the coffee shop, heart pounding with excitement and the butterflies that came with an act like that. 

He wasted no time calling you, actually dialing your number that same day and setting up a place and time for the two of you to meet. First dates were always such a hassle, but Spencer made them so easy. Talking to the man had been the most uncomplicated thing you’d ever done in your life.

 You found yourself willingly divulging details of your life as he gave you his. He was an FBI agent. His mother, Diana, was currently at a treatment facility in DC. He says she would like you, and you find yourself falling helplessly for him. He’s earnest and kind. And when he asks you if you’d like to be a more permanent item, you don’t hesitate whatsoever in agreeing. 

If dating Spencer Reid was nice, being his girlfriend was even nicer. Moving in with him was possibly the nicest, and in a short amount of time you’d grown used to the domestic bliss and routine living with him provided. 

He’d already told you the schedule he was on, in which he’d work a hundred days in the field and then be back in DC to teach a seminary class for thirty days, and you had no problem with it. You were also working full-time, albeit not the insane hours the FBI put him to- but still. You had no trouble coming home to an empty apartment, knowing that soon enough, your boyfriend would be back in your arms. 

When he was at home, it was perfect. He’d grade papers on the couch, some documentary droning on in the background. You’d read or use your phone on the opposite side of the couch, occasionally letting your eyes drift to his focused figure. He’d roll his pen between his fingers, sometimes placing it in between his lips as he thought about the next comment to jot down on the paper, or tapping the writing utensil against the side of his cheek with a distant look on his face. 

You’d smile to yourself before crawling over, slowly removing the papers from his lap and settling yourself in their place instead. He'd greet you with his hands on your hips, and soon enough, his lips would begin trailing soft kisses along the column of your neck before eventually fucking you right into the couch, having you moan out his name as his perfect cock drove you to your climax. 

Needless to say, it was absolutely divine dating Spencer. 

Which is why today, things seemed off. He was distant, retreating into himself all day. He shied away from your touch, when normally he’d lean into it. You would generally share some banter in the kitchen, Spencer oftentimes stealing languid kisses from you as you both made dinner, but this time around he seemed sullen, keeping his head down and eyes away from yours as he cooked with you.

You had no idea what had happened. 

Things had been normal just a day prior. 

You decided to take a little initiative, biting your lips a bit nervously as you came up behind him, wrapping your arms tentatively around his waist, which he responded to by lifting up his arms so you could lean against his back. 

“Mm. Something wrong?” You murmur, taking in the scent of his cologne and the feel of his cardigan that he’d occasionally sport around your shared apartment. It was soft, and provided the perfect padding for you to rest your head against as you hugged him from behind. 

“No, nothing’s wrong.” He replied, almost curtly. His voice was steady, but the tensing of his shoulders revealed that a lie had been uttered through his lips, and you instantly caught onto it. You may have not been a profiler like he was, but your shared time together had allowed you to find ways to read him, ways that revealed something was truly bothering him in that moment.

“Spence.” You say, hugging him a little tighter. “Come on.” You slowly turn him around, as to get a better look at his face, watching him carefully. 

“Did something happen- are.. are you mad at me?” You find yourself asking. It was almost like whiplash, watching your normally sweet and loving boyfriend withdraw like this, and you couldn’t help but worry some part of it was your fault. 

He immediately sensed your insecurity and brought his hands to your shoulders rubbing them soothingly. 

“Oh, baby.” He said, in a low tone. “Please don’t worry about it like that. It’s just.. work okay?” He says, hesitation in his lips as he said “work”. You narrow your eyes a little and continue to look into his eyes, trying to sense any deceivement on his part. 

“Just work? You promise?” You ask, looking up at him. You offered a gentle expression, one that conveyed the enormity of trust and love you’d placed in the man, and hoped the expression was mirrored in him as well. 

He nodded and moved to plant a sweet, chaste kiss on your lips. “I promise.” 

You return the kiss, smiling softly as you place your forehead against his, looking into his hazel eyes. You felt so safe with him, so comforted, and you genuinely loved him so much for that. 

“I love you, Spencie.” You murmur, moving in for another kiss but before your lips can meet his again, he instantly moves you away from him, nearly jumping back and moving himself towards the bedroom, effectively halting the intimate moment you’d been having. 

You watched as he went to your shared bedroom, closing the door behind him. Your eyes were wide, unsure what had even just happened. One moment you’d been kissing, and the next he was running away like he was revolted by just the thought of being near you? 

You tried to replay the action. You’d said “I love you” before, so that wasn’t it. Spencer wasn’t scared of physical intimacy. He’d shown that as much from how much he enjoyed touching you, having a need to have you close to him in public, always holding onto your hand or waist in enclosed spaces. You bit your lip, trying to regain your thoughts as you realize the only way you’d know what exactly had gone wrong would be to ask Spencer himself. You give yourself a few minutes to pace, before walking slowly to where he’d boarded himself up. 

You knock on the door once, your hand already on the knob. “Spencer, I’m coming in.” You don’t hear an answer, and start to feel your pulse speed up. “Spencer? Please? Answer me?” 

Still nothing. 

In the end, you twist the doorknob, finding your boyfriend curled up on your bed, breathing a little heavier than normal as tear stains streaked his cheeks, and you find yourself instantly heartbroken by the sight. 

It no longer matters what was wrong- you just desperately didn’t want him to feel this way. You join him on the bed promptly, your hands going to his hair, trying to soothe him the way he usually liked. 

“Spence? Spencer, baby.” You say, softly. 

Despite how he’d usually tower over you, right now he looked impossibly small and vulnerable, a look of absolute fear and panic plastered over his face. “Shh. I’m right here, alright?” 

He clung onto you, hands abruptly wrapping around your waist as he buried himself into your chest. “I’m sorry.” He said, his voice quiet and small. “I just.” He took a deep breath, and the grip around the fabric of your shirt didn’t let up in the slightest. 

You didn’t say anything, only stroking his hair and placing soft kisses on the top of his head. You had no idea what had happened. He had nightmares, yes, but this was different from those. You weren’t sure why this had happened in the first place. 

His soft voice broke your thoughts. “Please.. please don’t call me ‘Spencie’ again.” He murmurs, a small sniffle being heard from where he was against you. 

You complied straight away, nodding. Things started to click for you when you realized you’d let the nickname slip from your mouth the previous day as a sign of affection. You were quickly realizing the action had the opposite effect.  “Yeah, yeah. Of course.” You say, looking down at him with concern, even if he wasn’t looking at you. “I won’t, I promise.” 

He takes a breath and adjusts himself, wiping his eyes and looking at you now. “I don’t really- talk about these past few years with you.” He says, softly. “And honestly? I still don’t want to.” He admits, his eyes looking downward with shame. 

You shook your head as soon as the words were uttered from his mouth. “Spence- you don’t have to. I.. I like you even if you don’t talk about things. I just want to be here for you, yeah?” You say, trying to convey just how much you loved and cared for him. How badly you wanted to make sure he felt just as secure as he made you feel. 

He pauses and nods, but sighs. “I don’t want to get into the whole of it- but a few years ago there was this .. woman.” Spencer says, still looking away. “She really, really got into my head and managed to hurt me in more ways than one.” He looks down and tears start to fill his eyes again. “I don’t really know if I’ll ever be the same again. If I’ll ever be good again.” He murmurs. 

Your heart instantaneously shatters with his words as you try to pull him close again. “Hey, hey.” You say, cupping his face. “Don’t say that, love.” Your eyes dart, trying to find the words. “You are- one of, if not the bravest, kindest, loveliest men I’ve ever met.” 

He smiles weakly at the words but they don’t seem to take root in his heart. “You don’t know half of the things I’ve done.” He says, his eyes filled with sorrow and you shake your head. 

“I don’t need to, and I never will.” You say, softly. “I know you, alright? In all the ways that matter.” You pause, not wanting to say the wrong thing but still wanting to convey just how much he meant to you. “If- if this is you after, after every single bad and terrible thing that’s happened to you- God, Spencer.” You smile softly at him, tracing the nape of his neck gently. “You’re so good, okay?” You whisper. “The best.” 

He tears up at that, moving to bury himself in your neck this time and you can feel him inhaling your scent, melting into your touch. You hear him whisper again. “The woman.” He mutters. “She used to call me ‘Spencie' to mess with me. That’s why I freaked out. I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize.” You say, rubbing soft, soothing circles into his back. “She sounds awful, from what you’ve said. I’m sorry I did something that reminded you of her, even if it wasn’t intentional.” You say, kissing the top of his head once more, trying to offer reassurances and love in any small way you could. Anything to make him feel safe. 

“It’s okay.” He murmurs, and he moves to kiss your lips, softly. “I love you.” He says, his lips brushing against yours. 

You kiss him back, finding your hand going to his cheek now, nodding. “I love you too.”

He starts to kiss you a bit more vigorously and you sense his need for intimacy, for something to remind him of how close the two of you are and you respond readily, moving your lips over his as he positions himself in a way that straddles your hips, your body under his now. You want him to feel protected. To feel known, even if he couldn't talk about his past. To tell him that regardless of what he said or didn't- you'd love him. That he was your home and you were his.

He pulls back and attaches to your neck, leaving wet and hot kisses in his wake. 

“I love you.” He murmurs against your skin, lips brushing against the sensitive surface of your throat. 

“I love you.” He starts to suck softly along your jugular, making you shudder with pleasure. 

“I love you.” His tongue traces the outline of the mark he’d made, sure to bruise by tomorrow. 

“I love you too.” You breathlessly whimper, as his lips start to trail down lower and lower. He begins to undo your shirt, as to gain more access to your skin and you allow him, shrugging off the fabric as fast as you can. Your hands move to remove your bra and he's on you swiftly, tongue swirling around your nipple in a way that causes your back to arch into him. 

You can feel the way he grins when he feels it, and he continues, before moving onto your neglected breast. Your eyes have fluttered shut from the immense pleasure you’re feeling right now, and you relax into how good he makes you feel. How right this is. How safe you both are with each other. 

He moves down further, quickly undoing your pants and underwear in a clean swoop, and with little warning he dives into your wet folds, lapping up an embarrassing amount of wetness that had accumulated with so little of his touch.  

His tongue eventually begins to flick against your clit, darting to drive you to the precipice of pleasure you’d been feeling throughout this entire tryst. His fingers plunge into you as well, delivering a satisfying stretch that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. The combination of his long, slender digits buried inside your heat and the constant prodding of his tongue has you quickly unraveling, your toes curling as you release right on his tongue, which he eagerly drinks in. 

When you recover from your orgasm, you watch him, his chin glistening in your arousal, and it is just so fucking hot. You move to return the favor, but he shakes his head. 

“I want- I want to feel close to you.” He breathlessly explains. “Can I?” 

You understand, quickly lying back so he can reposition himself above you. You watch him undo his belt slowly, pulling his cock out from the confines of his briefs before passing the tip through your wet folds. 

“God, you’re so good.” He whispers, and you feel a soft smile grace your face before he pushes into you, slowly filling you, inch by inch. 

He moves with purpose, driving into a spot that has you clutching the bedsheets and moaning his name. He whispers sweet nothings as he pounds into you. He treats you like you’re made of glass, like he never wants to lose you, like his life depends on making this as good as possible for you. 

You want to do the same for him. You arch your back to take more of him, and he moans at the feeling of your cunt clenching around him. 

“Fuck- I’m not gonna last.” He pants into the crook of your neck. You can feel his thrusts getting less rhythmic and you knot your hands in his hair, nodding. 

“Me neither.” You moan, feeling your second orgasm rapidly approaching, your eyes screwing shut once more. 

He removes himself from your neck and uses his fingers to rub tight, slow circles around your clit and it’s enough to make you tip your head back and climax, the spasms of your cunt being enough to elicit the same reaction from him, his warmth spilling into your deepest point. 

He pulls out and kisses you all over. Your face, your neck, your cheek, your lips. It’s as if the sex wasn’t enough, that no action could convey the enormity of his desire and trust when it came to you. 

You grab his face as he moves to kiss you one more time, and he looks confused as to why you stopped him, tilting his head. 

“I love you, okay?” You whisper, before he can say anything, looking up at him with a loving gaze, losing yourself in his own eyes that shined with the same affection you felt for him. 

“I love you too.” He whispers. “I don’t deserve you.” He says, softly. “You make me feel so safe- and wanted and. I don’t know how I can thank you for that.” 

“You wanna know a secret?” You murmur, softly. 

He nods, and you lean up to plant a sweet kiss on his cheek. “You make me feel the exact same way.”

hello!! tried my hand at writing something just a tad more angsty and sad for @tobias-hankel 's whump challenge! hope you guys liked it. thank you so much for all your support whether its likes or reblogs or comments, i'm grateful for all of it!! ty ty ty

[sunny-speaks]

Hacker! Ren Headcanons

Basically just hc’s abt what ren does in his free time watching u, yk, normal stuff

Character(s): Ren/[REDACTED] from @14dayswithyou and mild mention of Harper from @/campwillowpeak

A/N: Definitely check out Camp Willowpeak if you have the time! Great VN in progress!

Trigger warnings: Minor panic attack after ‘And it is the worst feeling in all of Corland Bay.’

Um, mention of NSFW and kinks etc. Minors DNI !

Ren spends every waking hour of the day trying to be as close to you as he can possibly muster.

He just wants to be there with you in some shape or form!

The best days for him are the weekends, you don’t have to work and you can stay home all day if you choose to!

Some of his favorite things to watch you do is watch your anime, read fanfiction and a bunch of other things that help with his research.

When you indulge in your fixations, it helps Ren change himself accordingly to whatever you like at the moment!

You like science-y guys? Luckily for you, he took Biology and Chemistry in high school!

Totally not to figure out how to kill people effectively or clean up bloodstains, what???

You like artsy guys? He makes these amazing collages and collections of photography! Also took painting and art in high school!

Once again, totally not because he wanted the best drawings/paintings of you or the best high quality photos for his shrine, whaaat???

But having you read fanfiction is much more interesting to him.

He can see the types of characters you like to read about, your favorite genre, your favorite pairings, your favorite character dynamics…

Whether you prefer sunshine characters with a dark side, characters who look like they could kill you but are actually cinnamon rolls, two idiots + one brain cell, it’d all help him further his agenda of manipulating you to love him making him perfect for you!

And if you go into the NSFW section? He is frothing at the mouth.

This is his chance!! He can figure out what you prefer in the bedroom and win you over with his seduction skills! (not that he needs any ofc… have u seen him??? His dick is like 10 inches, that's a seduction skill on its own…)

(and maybe sometimes he takes advantage of the cameras around your place to listen in and watch you do some… intimate activities)

Whether you like submissive guys or dominant guys or service tops or brats, Ren is all for it! If you’re into some kinky shit, he might not be too into it, but he’ll give it a try for you!!

But if you share one of his massive kinks (ex. Breeding, marking) dude, you are so fucked.

Ren is straight up praying to his shrine that he can be the only one to fulfill your desires because, whoa, he would be soo good to you if you gave him a chance. He would literally cry if you wanted him to do whatever he liked to you.

Also you both like the same shit??? You were clearly meant to be!!

He sees you scrolling on social media and calling yourself delulu? (just like him ong) Don’t worry, he’ll be there so you can fufill your delusions!!

You’ll never have to be delusional again now that you have him!!

Ren saw you scroll through your Tumblr feed, seemingly spending hours lurking on this one account of… Camp Treepeak, or something. It irked him when he saw you focusing on this one character who had you swooning.

So what if that dumb brunette was 6’9’’??? So what if he was a pyromaniac??? He was just a dumb game character, Ren was real! Besides, Ren was more than sure that those missing 4 inches of height between and that fictional guy went somewhere… else.

You didn’t know what you were missing out on!! Ren was right there, always waiting for you to notice him! If you gave him even the smallest chance, he’d swoop in and make your life a living romance visual novel if you wanted!

He could be anyone you wanted him to be! At all! If that’s what it takes for him to be yours, he’d do it in a heartbeat!

(I have brought this up before lmao) Would absolutely be down to try and cosplay any character you aggressively rave about to Moth.

While he absolutely detests Moth for being the one that you go to with this stuff, he can’t deny that it's useful for him to tap into the call, mute Moth on his own end and listen to you go on and on about whatever you’re rambling about at the moment.

Your voice is so pretty, like a canary… Birds remind him of freedom in some way, some days Ren would like to keep you captive, hide you away from the world.

But then he looks at himself in the mirror and he sees his father stare back.

And it is the worst feeling in all of Corland Bay.

He hums to himself, listening to you talk on and on to Moth but can’t help and think, ‘Wouldn’t it be nice if I was the only one they ever sang to?’ and it sends Ren into a spiral of dark thoughts he immediately dry heaves at.

He’s trying so hard to focus on your melodic tone before he pants over the sink, body shaking. No, no, no, no.

No. He is not psychopathic. You are not something he can own. You are not his. That is not his decision. You have your voice. You are your own person.

“Hey, you alright?” Your calming voice shakes him out of his stupor. Of course, it did. It helped him get through nightmares, through hungover evenings where he just wanted to be with you, past his job when he felt demotivated.

Subconsciously, he knew you were just talking to Moth, but he couldn’t help but respond. “Y-yeah. I think so.”

“Mm, I feel that.”

Wow, maybe if he squinted, the two of you could be having a conversation! If it wasn’t for that lingering thought of his bastard dad, he would’ve been giggling on the couch, kicking his feet and twirling his hair.

…He was really getting into his Ren persona, wasn’t he…?

“Look, cheer up, things get better. I mean, my job’s no walk in the park, but it’s about the small wins!” He could hear the grin in your voice, you always managed to bring your emotions through audio, “Like, like! The other day, some guy on the street saw my subtle Attack on Giants jacket and stopped to me and said―”

“ ‘Yoo, is that AOG?’ “ Ren repeated the same words with a small smile on his face. He remembered how you reined in your expression before your face lit up as soon as you were by yourself.

You sighed and chuckled at whatever Moth had replied. “No, I am not a huge nerd. I simply have good taste. Oh yeah, remember how I told you about that one skater boy–” and your voice faded to background noise again.

Ren took a couple deep breaths to calm himself. He wasn’t his sperm donor, he’d be better. For you.

And the rest of his nights would be spent, adoringly adding to your shrine and his collection of your items.

Then he would lay in bed, clutching a pillow, wishing it were you he had to cuddle with but could settle for the plush, soft object until he finally won you over.

(personal headcanon that ren has one of those like, duck filled pillows he hugs instead of his stuffed toys which he leaves on display. Sometimes all the body parts just get in the way and he just wants to hug something soft… :(( like you :(( )

Which he would… one day.

[datesinredink]

could you possibly write headcanons you have of how the rise yanderes would like psychologically manipulate/punish their darling? i’m all for physical violence but what do they do to mess their darling up in the head?

ty very much for reading this if you do :)

THANK YOU SO MUCH RAGHHHHHH!!!!! Since this is such a fun question to answer im gonna order these from most to least awful. The ranking is just my opinion and i would LOVE to see what other people think jhwhnwiurfj i decided to chug a soda to write this and i think that was a great decision because i immediately came up with smth for donnie because of it.

I decided to search up some ACTUAL psychological torture methods that have been/are used in real life and let normal manipulation take more of a backseat so that this didn’t end up too repetitive- honestly would recommend researching it, it’s a fun topic.

Trigger warnings: Very unfun use of technology in your arm, Drugging, More drugging, Even more drugging, Withholding of food/water (+ a more mild example of doing so but it still happens), Mild descriptions of gore, Mentions of blood, general yandere stuff like kidnapping, and likely others- please ask me to tag anything else triggering, because unfortunately I am not perfect.

1- Donnie.

This might be surprising to some of you. Yes, Leo is the manipulator- he’s the face man, the people guy, but I think that in terms of sheer awfulness- Donnie is going to win here simply because of the potential with his tech.

He’s a genius with access to mystic powers who has incredible skill with both designing and creating various machines and gadgets. I think that he’d be very creative, just considering how much he thought to fit into just his bō staff.

My first thought was that he could come up with a small device (which might be able to double as a tracker) to embed under your skin that could move around. It would skitter up and down your arm like a beetle (likely your dominant arm, just to be worse) and be a nice cherry on top of anything else he could come up with.

To pair with that, he could force some type of hallucinogenic drug down your throat- after some googling, LSD would be a likely candidate. While apparently it usually only causes “pseudo-hallucinations” (where you know that they aren’t real, whereas true hallucinations would be where you think they are), true hallucinations can happen, and the pseudo-hallucinations combined with the environment alone would be enough to cause a panic attack. Not even to mention the kind of drugs that the mystic city might have. (edit: i just found out about datura??? GODDAMN THAT’S A STRONG DRUG.)

Also, I think that Donnie would actually take decent care of you prior to any sort of escape attempt or broken rule. He’d hate for you to waste away in a dark room for the rest of your now shared life, so he would take you outside to some private space for a set amount of time everyday while you’re chained to him and probably gagged so you don’t call for help- you need time in the sun and exercise, after all. That’s why I think he’d also stop doing that if you broke a rule. You don’t want to be anywhere near him, and he supposes that he’s fine with that- but if you really don’t want anything to do with Donnie anymore, then you’ll just have to deal with losing all the luxuries that came with him being so caring.

He’ll lower the temperature in your room and take the hoodie that he so graciously gave you and waltz on out. He still brings you food and water, but now it’s less frequent and more random since now he’s prioritizing his brilliant inventions. Sorry dear, but weren’t you the one who begged him to leave you alone? Now he is. What’s the problem?

2- Leo.

Even if you haven’t done anything wrong (yet), being kept in his room would probably be a nightmare. I feel in my adhd soul that he would NOT be good at keeping it clean. It’d be living in a constant mess, and as someone who has lived in a perpetually messy house, it will definitely take a toll on your mental health. Not to mention the additional noise from whatever he and his brothers are doing. You wouldn’t be allowed outside of it either, not for a while at least, so you’d never know what day or time it is.

Other than the already constant sensory of his room, I think that Leo would mainly use threats- of which he goes through with. Not against you, though, but against your family, (what’s left of) your friends, and any other loved ones you might have. He’ll drag their unconscious body into whatever room he’s keeping you in, and wait with you for them to wake up.

While you two are waiting, he’ll lay out everything he’s planning to do to them in awful detail- and lucky you, he even left out some things as a nice surprise!

You’ll be tied to a chair and forced to watch as their guts fall to the ground from the clean slice in their now empty abdomen while Leo picks up and talks about their functions one by one. You silently wish that you never told him that you admired his skills as the team medic.

When he’s finally done rambling about the various viscera laying on the cold floor, he’ll force you to help him clean up- “so that Raph doesn’t get mad about the mess”, as he says. He’ll hold you in his arms when the two of you are done, whispering in your ear about how sorry he is that he had to do that, but you really did force his hand, and you know that, right? If only you had listened…

When the list of people you can bring yourself to care about finally has 0 names, Leo starts to instead take things away from you. He starts small, gradually taking and taking like the parasite you’ve learned he is until all you have left are the clothes you wear and him. He’ll even deprive you of food and water for periods of time, and you can no longer tell if you wish he would shut up for once or if you’re grateful for at least anything to distract you from the constant pain in your empty stomach.

Mikey and Raph landed themselves towards the bottom because I think that they’re both more lenient with punishments (Raph would be afraid of hurting you beyond repair physically OR mentally and Mikey has generally been shown to be very patient and forgiving with people he cares about), but I also think that they might be more exhausting to be stuck with GENERALLY, wearing you down slowly in day-to-day life rather than harsh punishments for breaking whatever rules might be in place for you.

3- Raph.

Raph would try to instill learned helplessness into his darling, to make them understand why he always has to be so careful!

It’ll happen the next morning after a particularly bad argument between you two, and when he’s suddenly letting you handle sharp objects again- but oh no! For some reason you feel so sluggish and dizzy today that you messed up and sliced open your arm. It’s ok- Raph’s here for you! He’ll either patch up your arm himself or take you to Leo, and after it’s taken care of he’ll scold you and say that it’s fine, maybe he’ll give you another chance next week. And he keeps his word- once again, you’re allowed to try your hand at chopping some veggies with him or Mikey- and again, you feel dizzy and accidentally cut yourself.

This will happen many more times- or not, if you give in easily enough- at least until Raph finally decides that he just can’t keep doing this. He brought you to the lair to keep you away from harm, and despite it being to teach you a lesson, he just can’t bear to watch blood drip down your pretty skin.

So instead, he further seals you away- locking you in his room and wrapping one of his hoodies around your head. He’ll keep you like this until you finally learn.

He won’t starve you, at least. He’d hate to watch you waste away after everything, so you’ll be fine physically, but it’ll be hell to not be able to see or properly hear anything. It’ll also be more difficult to breathe properly through the fabric, so I wish you luck with that.

He’s infuriatingly nice throughout the whole thing. Of course he’s angry when you argue with him- when you hurl insults and and completely unfounded whining (yeah right) at him. Sometimes he hurriedly leaves the room so he doesn’t do anything he regrets- but when he comes back- despite your wishes that he wouldn’t- he just wraps that damned hoodie around your skull and chides you for your hostility, leaving you to wonder if this could really be better than death.

You feel insane rambling to his plushies, of which you now know the individual names of, but it’s an admittedly nice bit of company to have when your only other option is Raph. Honestly, you’d rather deal with Ms Cuddles by this point, and she even managed to wring a scream out of Donnie.

At least it’s something you can actually have even an ounce of fun doing that he won’t take away for being “too dangerous”. As long as you can tolerate his absolutely smitten behavior when he finds you talking to them.

Be careful about how loudly you complain, though- it might just land you being completely swaddled in blankets and left to go insane on his bed.

4-  Mikey.

I think that if you were to try and escape from Mikey, he’d conclude that his love simply needs to spend more time with him! Maybe if he shows them how wonderful life is with him, they’ll stop trying to run away!

Unfortunately, I doubt his sleep schedule is very consistent. He keeps you up late at night to try out new spraypaints, recipes, games, anything he can find to do with you will be done. You hardly get the chance to sleep well, and the peace you get in dreams is frequently interrupted.

When he does take a break, he insists on sleeping in the same bed, and it’s much harder to fall asleep with him staring holes into you, as though he were trying to memorize every single detail.

It takes a damn long time to get Mikey to knock it off, too. You have to guess that stubbornness runs in the family, if his brothers are anything to go by. Unfortunately, said brothers’ coddling of their youngest has resulted in quite the persistent guy, and you’re quickly losing the energy to refute him. You wonder how long you’ll need to sleep for the giant spider in the corner of your vision to go away.

When the box turtle finally does realize how much of a toll his shenanigans have taken on poor you, he decides that as the person responsible for you, it’s his job to make sure that you get plenty of rest- and if you refuse, Dr Delicate Touch and Dr Feelings are always here to make sure you’re convinced!

He does a sort of 180- where he once forced you to do everything, he now forces you to do nothing at all, even when your mind screams at you to get up and move. He’ll slip something he stole from the pharmacy into your food and carry your sleeping figure back to his room for your seemingly infinite nap.

In between consciousness, you’ve learned to just stay in bed, maybe draw or write something related to all the adventures you go on in dreamworld.

Fun fact, over sleeping has a couple negative side effects- it increases the risk of diabetes, obesity, headaches, back pain, depression (like you don’t have that already, being kidnapped and all), and heart disease! I wish you the best of luck.

When he finally believes your rest to be sufficient, everything will go back to normal. Except, of course, the lingering paranoia of when it’ll happen all over again will continue to haunt you.

Who knows, maybe he’ll continue drugging you just to keep you a little more complacent. Can’t have you running away all the time, right?

[outoftheseine]

- THOMAS SHELBY FIC RECS PART 2 -

alexa, play jealous girl by lana del rey | note: some fics are 18+ so minors DNI. be aware of canon trigger warnings (blood, violence, death, guns, etc)

main masterlist | part one

SERIES - MULTI-CHAPTERS

the royal wedding of small heath • thomas shelby x fem!reader part 2

↳ by @sneakyblinders (fluff, slightly explicit)

protection • thomas shelby x reader

↳ by @writers-hes (angst, death, mentions of abuse)

romantic escape | romantic capture • thomas shelby x fem!reader

↳ by @anonymooseforever007 (fluff, slight angst, overprotective!thomas)

immune to his charms • thomas shelby x american!reader

↳ by @readyouforfilth (love their banter so far, can't wait for updates)

happy birthday, my love • dad!thomas shelby x reader

↳ by @teenwolf-theoriginals (so so so fluffy)

safe with me • thomas shelby x reader

↳ by @kgficz

a man with a reputation • thomas shelby x reader

↳ by @kadwrites (arranged marriage trope)

your house | our home • thomas shelby x wife!reader

↳ by @vintunnavaa (angst, fluff, mentions of infidelity, looved it)

the cigarette girl • thomas shelby x reader

↳ by @huntingingoodwill (very angsty, thomas is mean)

ONE-SHOTS - BLURBS - HC'S

i got you • thomas shelby x reader

↳ by @madame-wilsonn (panic attacks, hurt/comfort, mentions of a loved one's death, fluff)

gentle love • thomas shelby x wife!reader

by @vintunnavaa (fluff)

what could've been • thomas shelby x reader

↳ by @toms-cherry-trees (angst)

love is sweeter than vengeance • thomas shelby x fem!reader

↳ by @pherelesytsia (angst, blood, death)

the secret garden • thomas shelby x reader

↳ by @celticmelody (very angsty, domestic violence, blood)

the layers of thomas shelby • thomas shelby x fem!reader

↳ by @theonewiththefanfics (angst, mild fluff)

november • thomas shelby x reader

↳ by @moral-terpitude (fluff, a little angst)

you reap what you sow • thomas shelby x reader

↳ by @springsteens (mentions of abortion, angst, fluff)

ain't she sweet • thomas shelby x reader

↳ by @look-at-the-soul (angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, injuries)

love will keep you up all night • thomas shelby x reader

↳ by @look-at-the-soul (very fluffy)

girl dad • thomas shelby x reader

↳ by @runnning-outof-time (fluff, fluff, fluff)

men with blue eyes and dark hair • thomas shelby x reader

↳ by @dandelionprints (angst, blood, name calling, fluff)

little you's and i's • thomas shelby x reader

↳ by @multific (fluff)

a small mishap • thomas shelby x reader

↳ by @gypsy-girl-08 (mention of violence, injuries, fluff)

thomas shelby as a father • thomas shelby x reader

↳ by @fanficwrit3r (very fluffy)

wailing teapots • thomas shelby x reader

↳ by @oddaodd (angst but happy ending, mentions of abuse)

as if you are still here • thomas shelby x reader

↳ by @speckledemerald (so. much. angst)

do you get déjà vu • thomas shelby x fem!reader

↳ by @calummss (fluff and humour)

venus rising • thomas shelby x fem!reader

↳ by @ay0nha (angst, this one is 🤌)

the sapphire ring • thomas shelby x reader

↳ by @kitixie (angst, but fluff)

the brother that always wins • thomas shelby x reader

↳ by @runnning-outof-time (fluff)

business and dates • thomas shelby x fem!reader

↳ by @princessofmarvel (fluff and slight angst)

[biting-miguel-ohara]

Shower - Logan Howlett x ftm!Reader

A/N: I cried so much while writing this. I think that means it’s good? Either way, I hope you all like it. Lmk if any of the warnings are missing or labeled incorrectly

Written for this request

CW: dysphoria; chest dysphoria; descriptions of dysphoria triggers; descriptions of dysphoria; anxiety attack (or panic attack. I’m not sure which one counts for this); crying; mentioned emotional exhaustion/numbness; Logan is soft in this; hurt/comfort; Reader and Logan bathe together; bathing while partially dressed; Reader is called handsome; mentions of panic; fluffy ending; talk of love; mild kissing

669 words

It really was the mirror’s fault.

One of your least favorite tasks to do was to shower. Not because you didn’t like being clean or because it was too overwhelming. No, you didn’t like it for an entirely different reason.

Taking a shower meant being naked. And that was the one thing you hated more than anything else. Well, sort of. Being partially naked was fine. The real problem came when your chest was bare.

And your bathroom had a mirror. A large one, so no matter where you were, you could always catch a glimpse of your reflection.

It made you feel physically ill. Like you could see all the people around you, laughing and mocking you for not being as flat as you needed. It made you want to rip off your very skin.

But you have to take a shower.

Everything is fine until you get into the bathroom. Your back is to the mirror, you’re focusing on something else… and then you drop something and have to turn around to pick it up.

You catch a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror, and it all spirals from there.

Logan finds you in the corner, crying and numb. He crouches in front of you. “Hey.”

You don’t answer.

He drapes one of his shirts over you, careful not to touch your chest as he buttons it up a bit. Once your chest is hidden, he steps back, starting to shed his clothes.

You lift your head a little to watch, but don’t say anything. You just sniffle and wipe at your eyes.

He turns on the water to the bath, waiting a moment to make sure it’s the right temperature. Then he gently scoops you up and steps into the bath.

He sits down, settling you on his lap. The bottom of the shirt gets wet, but he makes no move to take it off.

You lean back against him, resting your head against his shoulder.

“You alright, handsome?” Logan asks, hands gently rubbing your thighs.

“No.” You shake your head. If you weren’t all out of tears by now, you’d probably be crying again.

He nods and presses a kiss to your temple. “I’m here now. I’ve got you.”

You take a deep breath in and let it go. You do feel better now than before. The shirt you’re wearing clings to your body as the bathtub water rises, but your chest is still covered. You don’t feel so gross anymore.

Logan doesn’t leave for the rest of your bath. He helps you wash, doing it for you when your hands shake too much and bile rises in your throat. His hands are rough but gentle. They ground you, keeping you from falling into panic.

The shirt is soaking wet by the time you’re done. Wet and clingy and gross. But you feel so much better.

You get out of the tub on your own, shying away from the mirror. Logan drapes you in a towel before undoing the buttons of the shirt. When you pass by your reflection, there’s nothing visible but fluffy towel. You take another deep breath.

There are no mirrors in your bedroom, so you drop the towel to get dressed. Logan sits on the edge of your bed, watching. It makes you feel the tiniest bit insecure about yourself before you catch the look in his eyes.

Absolute adoration.

It makes you blush, hasty to finish dressing. You’ve always known Logan loves you. He’s made it abundantly clear since the two of you started dating. You just forget sometimes how much he loves you.

Once you’re done you sit on the bed next to him and lean against him. Entwining your fingers with his. “How did you know?”

Logan looks down at you. “I had a feeling. You’re always fast on shower days. Figured something was wrong after you took a while.”

You lean up to kiss him. “Thank you.”

He leans into the kiss. “Anything for my man.”

[7ndipity]

Their S/o Has A Fear Of Loud Noises

Ot7 x Reader

Summary: How the members would react to their S/o being scared/having panic attacks caused by loud noises(possibly due to ptsd).

Warnings: hurt/comfort, mentions of anxiety/panic attacks

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! I hope you like these and that they bring you some comfort💜

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Jin: Jin has a mild fear of loud noises, so I think he’d be really sympathetic to your struggles, though he knows it’s not the same type of fear. He would be super comforting and protective over you, especially during panic attacks, holding you or your hands to help keep you grounded till you calm down.

Yoongi: Yoongi would be hyper vigilant about your triggers, keeping headphones or earplugs in around just in case you need/want them. He would be super soothing as he helps you work through panic attacks, speaking gently and reminding you that you’re safe and that he’s there for you.

Hobi: He would be really good at diverting your attention whenever you start to feel overwhelmed or when you can’t avoid being around loud sounds, distracting you enough to keep your anxiety at bay till you can find somewhere quiet. He’s always super reassuring and makes sure you know you have nothing to be embarrassed about.

Namjoon: He would be super protective of you, his constant focus whenever y’all go out together is your comfort and wellbeing, whether that’s in the form of simply holding your hand to keep you grounded, or helping make a quick exit when you start to feel overwhelmed. Whatever you need, he’s there for you.

Jimin: He’d be soo patient and understanding, keeping calm when you start to feel panicked, sitting with you and talking to you till you start to calm down. He knows that you feel embarrassed about your struggles sometimes, so he tries to remind you every chance he can that you have nothing to be ashamed of and that you’re safe with him.

Taehyung: He would try to pay super close attention to what sound levels are comfortable for you and any specific triggers you might have, always ready to reassure you or help if you start to feel anxious. He’s really good at taking your mind off things when you’re tense, talking about work or something cute that Yeontan did until you’re able to relax.

Jungkook: He would be soo protective over you. The second any sort of unexpected sound happens, he’s by your side, making sure that you’re alright. If you start to feel panicked or anxious, all you have to do is look at him and he’s wrapping you up in his arms, reminding you that you’re safe and that he’s got you.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @bo0o0o0ooo @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

[starry-bi-sky]

sO i got to part two of the daniel jason todd fenton au :)

>:) word count 8k+

So, first, taglist for folks who asked for it: @blep-23 @mikyapixie @isnt-that-grape @randomenglishmajor @illryiannightmare @the-navistar-carol

SECOND: this part needs a trigger/content warning list: - CW Mild Swearing - CW Slight Psychological Horror - ^ CW mild depictions of being haunted by your own ghost/death flag and not realizing it (other people do though) - CW Brief Emetophobia (Danny throws up during a second nightmare) - CW Danny has nightmares of dying - except its of Jason Todd's warehouse death. It's not explicit but it's implied - TW Mild mentions of perceived Blood - TW Depictions of Corpses (first is non-descript, and then second one is slightly more descript but its not anything uh, super descriptive) - TW Mild description of burns (the descriptive part above) - TW Depictions of Panic Attacks (Danny's nightmares)

I mentioned that this au was inspired by a song lyric from Jann's 'Gladiator' here is that line:

I know your addiction's attention, Let's start a show Is it everything and more than you were hoping for? Show us something we ain't never seen before

The day after Danny meets himself, he's downstairs having breakfast in the dining room with the rest of the family, listening idly in on their conversations. Tim Drake is talking about something about Wayne Industries with Mr. Wayne - and wasn't that a startling surprise to learn the first time? - and Damian was slyly trying to feed Ace under the table. Duke Thomas was mid conversation with Cass, much of it audibly one-sided as Cass swaps between ASL and verbal speech.

(Danny comes across her a fair few amount of times in Wayne Manor. The first time was in the library. She hands him a book about planets, smiles, and walks away.)

(He hasn't talked much to Duke Thomas yet, but he plans to - he seems cool. They just haven't had the time to run into each other yet. Danny might just have to corner him, he thinks.)

And finally Dick Grayson on his left, his Dick Grayson, was talking away with the other Dick Grayson - who had stopped by from Bludhaven for the morning for his day off. He was a cop, ew. They were comparing lives, specifically college lives. There wasn’t much to talk about in their childhood, it seems. Danny was quietly listening in. 

(They both gave their Bruces headaches as children, apparently. Climbing the chandeliers and sliding down the staircase banisters. Flips and tricks only a child raised by the circus could do.) 

All-in-all, a very quiet morning, Danny thinks. That is, until the other Dick Grayson turns to him and goes; "I'm sure you've been asked already, but what do your parents do, Mini Jay?"

Danny squints at him, and releases his grip on his spoon to raise a pointed finger. "First off: only my Dick Grayson can call me Jay, you have your own." He says, slightly playful and nodding to Dick - oh that was going to get confusing, fast. He should come up with a nickname for one of them, probably - "And second: you're the second person to ask me that, actually. Jason - er, myself? - asked me yesterday. My parents are ectologists."

Apparently, mentioning that he met himself is a set of magic words, because the whole table stops what they're doing, and Danny's half-sinking back into his chair when all eyes turn to him in varying degrees of surprise. Dick - Richard, he’s going to call him Richard - looks at him with wide eyes and furrowed, confused brows. "You saw Jason?"

(Danny sends Bruce a confused look, but he's not paying attention - looking at everyone else with threaded eyebrows and a faint frown. Well, at least Danny isn't the only one confused by the reaction.)

(What a comfort.) 

"I guess that nickname is a dimensional constant." He mutters under his breath, and straightens up, eyeing the room warily. It... doesn't bode well to him that the Waynes were surprised by his other self's appearance -- was hisself estranged from the family?

...He hopes that doesn't happen in his world. Dick and Bruce may not be his adoptive family, but he likes them quite a lot. He wants to stay in contact with them when they get home.

"Yeah, he was in the library." He says, frowning at Richard Grayson. "He was sitting in my armchair." He supposes it was Jason's armchair first -- god, that was so weird to refer to himself in third person. "We talked for a little bit, and he asked me what my parents did. They're ectologists, by the way."

He turns to Mister Wayne and tilts his head, "Did you really not know that he was here?" He asks, narrowing his eyes. He wouldn't expect Richard to know, he doesn't live here. But Mister Wayne looks just as surprised, perhaps even a little remorseful.

(There’s a pit in his stomach that’s growing bigger.)

(His neck burns with a new pair of eyes, ones that he can’t see.) 

Mr. Wayne looks thoughtful for a moment, and then carefully, he goes; "Jason is rather... independent. He comes and goes from the manor when he feels like it." And the way he speaks sounds like he was choosing his words carefully. Danny suppresses the shiver of unease.

Something was not well in this house. Something unspoken was haunting the air. 

(Jason would know about hauntings, wouldn’t he?) 

He hopes history won't repeat itself, he likes Bruce quite a lot.

"...Alright," he says after a moment of silence, not hiding his wariness as he slowly turns back to Richard. His eyes flick towards Bruce, and then to Ricard. "Anyway, my parents are ectologists, as I've said for the third time now."

Richard, for his effort, takes the topic change easily, and his surprise shifts into one of curiosity - as does everyone else. (Did Danny really not mention what his parents did? Even Dick and Bruce look intrigued.) "That's... new." Richard says lightly, Danny commends him for the way he sounds non-judgmental. "What are ectologists?"

Danny quirks a dry half-smile, and deadpans; "Studiers of all things dead and afterlife."

...And there is that reaction again. A ripple of surprise and intrigue that spreads throughout the room as everyone looks at him, like a bunch of cats perking up their ears. 

On the other side of the table, Damian scoffs quietly, a sound much like the one Jason - the other one - did when Danny told him. Danny's eyes snap over to him in an instant, he stares at him, trying to study him. Why that reaction - again? 

He lets himself frown, briefly, before addressing Richard again. "Everyone just calls them ghost hunters, but the 'official' term is ectologists." He drawls, air-quoting the word 'official' with his fingers as he rolls his eyes. "They've been obsessed with ghosts since college. We even have a lab in the basement, and they keep liquid ectoplasm samples in the fridge."

Danny's been in the lab a handful of times, he and Jazz both have, either to clean it as part of their chores, or to listen to a lecture from their parents for their newest invention. The lab is cool, kinda, but Danny thinks it wouldn't look out of place in any evil lair of a Rogue with a doctorate. 

…He’s glad that the Fentons weren’t stationed in Gotham. They would have blown up a street. He’s surprised they haven’t already. 

"Ectoplasm?" Dick asks, leaning over to catch Danny's eye. Almost by instinct now Danny smiles at him, and then nods.

"Mom and dad say it's the stuff that makes ghosts." He explains, leaning back against his seat, his arms crossing. "It's invisible in its natural state, and it makes up everything. Kinda like the Force from Star Wars, or just, matter in general."

That cracks a few quiet, laugh-like sounds through the dining room. Danny halves a smile again, a swelling of pride in his chest that lingers for a moment. "My parents say that when ectoplasm condenses enough in one area, it can start taking on visible properties," he continues, "they say that ghosts are just the memories and emotions of a dying person or animal being imprinted on a concentration of ectoplasm, and that the ghost itself isn't actually the person or animal, just matter trying to mimic it."

Which Danny guesses makes sense, even if the way they talk about ghosts made him really uncomfortable. His parents insisted that ghosts weren't actually people, but he just couldn't shake the idea that they were. How close to ‘human’ does something get before they actually are? 

Well, no, that wasn’t fair. Superman wasn’t human, and yet everyone treated him like he was. Let him rephrase himself:

How human-like must something get before they are considered as such? Before they’re considered sapient and sentient, and real?  

"That's... quite interesting." Someone says, and Danny turns to see Bruce leaning his elbows against the table and putting his chin on threaded fingers. He looks genuinely engrossed in what Danny's said, and pride once again leaks into his heart. "You mentioned they kept ectoplasm in a liquified state in their... fridge?"

"Oh yeah," Danny says, putting his full attention to Bruce, "it's crazy. They keep little test tube racks in the freezer full of liquid ectoplasm, and it's this - uh - glowing, bright green stuff. It used to be the weirdest thing in the house."

(From his peripherals, Danny notices the room tense up again at his description — and he bites back the urge to slow his talking down and narrow his eyes. Suspicious. Suspicious. The Waynes weren’t scientists - why do they react to something like they are?)

(Nobody knows what ectoplasm is. To the scientific world, it's an unconfirmed theory of a state of matter. Why do the Waynes act like they know what it is?)

(Danny is not stupid. Even if his scientific family makes him feel like it, sometimes.) 

Bruce gives him this half-tilted, confused smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling up. "Used to be?"

Danny opens his mouth, the answer already on the tip of his tongue -- and then he freezes. His jaw clicks shut as he frowns. Should he say what his parents' latest pet project was? Surely, surely, it would be fine? Their inventions never work - and a life-sized portal is just another thing on his parents' crazy ideas list.

His teeth sink into his bottom lip, chewing on the skin as he rolls the answer over in his head. ...Surely, it would be fine. His face turns in hesitance, and his shoulders scrunch and twist to his ears, like he's about to admit something that could get him grounded by his parents.

"They... may, or may not, be building an inter-dimensional portal in the basement?" His voice steadily pitches upward nervously the longer he speaks. By the time he finishes, his voice is close to a squeaky pitch.

There is a horrified silence that follows him, sitting in the air so still-like that Danny could hear the whoosh of a pin drop. He should have expected that, nervously surveying the ranging horrified expressions on the Wayne family's faces. "...I promise they're harmless... to the living." He hesitates, "Mostly."

Bruce stares at him for a long moment. "Mostly?" He repeats, his brows arched high and pinched together. Danny cringes back a little.

"Dad's a little clumsy, that's all." He says, shrugging with a helpless smile. It doesn't help, he thinks, and the silence is strangling. Sitting up, he's a little frantic to add; "I really, really, doubt it's going to work, Bruce. Their inventions never do. Mom and dad built a mini portal in college and it didn't work either!" There's a moment of silence following him, before he quietly adds, wincing, "It- it did hospitalize the guy who was helping them, though."

He only heard about that when he asked his parents about the portal - it was still in production when they picked him up. Jack Fenton claimed it was safe as safe could be - they’d make sure that the ‘college’ instance never happened again.

Bruce - both Bruces actually - looked vaguely ill at the thought. Mister Wayne’s face was blank, his face sunk into his folded hands, and Bruce’s stare burned into Danny, intense like concentrated fire. 

Danny for some reason - either through his panicked urge to make things better, or through temporary insanity - laughs forcibly. "The worst thing that could happen is that the portal could explode, but that never happens."

Next to him, Dick makes a stressed sound. "That's not better, Jay." He forces out. He looks even more horrified.

Danny sucks on his bottom lip for a long beat. Then lets out a breath.

"Yeah, I know." Danny sighs, deep and long while his shoulders slump. He watches the room for a moment, with their various stony-like expressions, and looks back at the very concerned-looking Bruce. "But Bruce, I swear it's fine. Nothing's gonna happen, please don't call the Justice League on my parents. They really are harmless."

Bruce looks conflicted.

"I was being dramatic when I said the portal could explode, it won't." He continues, giving Bruce what Jazz has called his 'cheating puppy eyes'. "My parents are eccentric about their line of work, but they understand lab safety. They'd never do anything to put me and Jazz in danger."

...Actively or on purpose, that is.

He and Bruce stare each other down. One second, two seconds; what feels like thirty seconds pass in silence before Bruce relents, sighing deeply and uncannily dad-like. He drags a hand down his face, and rubs his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "When we get back to our universe, you are giving me your phone number so you can contact me if anything happens."

Danny beams, nodding hurriedly. "Thank you, Buzz."

Bruce isn't able to hide his smile - small as it was - quickly enough. "You're welcome, Danny."

—-----

Danny has a nightmare that night. He doesn't remember most of it. There's a ticking sound, and high laughter, and there is a thumping heartbeat in his ears. Everything is dark and he is in agonizing pain.

He wakes up in paralyzing terror, a scream lodged in the back of his throat. His head pounds like a concussion and there is a shallowing ache in his ribs, like someone's kicked him, and kicked him, and kicked him until all air has been knocked from his lungs. He can't breathe.

Danny's hands scrabble for his throat, and even though he can hear himself gasping for air, it doesn't feel like he's taking any of it in. There is no relief in the action, no reassurance, and everything is so hot. He kicks at his blankets, his panic growing higher as they tangle around his legs.

He needs-

He needs--

He needs to move. He needs to get up. He needs to free himself. He needs to prove that he's not dying. He feels like he's dying. He feels like he's burning. There are tears swelling in his eyes as he finally gets the blankets off his feet, and he rolls - quite literally - out of bed.

He tries to catch himself, he does. But he doesn't. He hits the floor with a heavy thud and can hardly bring himself to care -- he catches himself on his elbows, and the sting it causes makes him feel worse. The air is knocked out of his chest again. 

The ground is cold though, blessedly cold. And before Danny can realize this, he lifts his head and, disoriented, looks for the door. It's too dark, it's too dark. His head swivels blindly in search of it. He needs to get out, he needs to escape. 

"Bruce." He croaks, still trying to force air down into his lungs. His call comes out raspy, weak, and hot tears blur his vision.

"Dick." He tries instead when a minute passes and no one comes, and he thinks he can finally start breathing. No one comes to find him - his voice is too quiet to wake anyone up. The tears in his eyes bubble and pop, and stream down his face.

He makes a distressed noise. "Jazz?" He whispers, his voice shaky and uneven with an encompassing want for his sister. It's nearly been a month since they got here. He wants Jazz.

No one hears him. He's alone.

God, he doesn't want to be alone. Please don't make him be alone.

Danny eventually gets himself calmed down. But he is curled up on the floor, trembling with the lingering traces of fear from whatever dream had woken up. His fingers dig painfully into his arms, leaving crescent-moon indents by his nails. The contents of the nightmare are already fading further into his mind, slipping out of his hands like water. Like ash.

He feels no need to chase after it.

The back of his shirt is damp with sweat, and in between the trembling he is also shivering, goosebumps lacing up his arms. His eyes have adjusted to the dark, and he stares with wide, crying eyes at the side of his bed. His breath comes out in short, shaky pants.

He doesn't know how long he lays there, trying to comprehend what happened as his mind still hangs onto the edge of the dreamworld. It feels like there is something in the room with him, crawling along the walls.

Danny forces himself to get up, and the sudden standing makes his vision blacken and swim as blood rushes to his head. He stumbles, slightly, and lurches halfway across the room for the light switch.

He squints as the room is drenched in light, chasing away the lingering paranoia in the back of his brain. He is still shaking. His head still hurts. He still looks, wide eyed, around the room for anything out of place.

There is none.

But he still feels unsafe. He needs- he needs to find someone, or go somewhere else. He grabs a firm pillow off the bed, and leaves.

(He ends up in the library alone. He turns on the lights and grabs a book Dick recommended to him, and he curls up tight in his armchair. He ends up falling asleep just as the sun is rising.)

(He doesn't tell anyone about the nightmare.)

-

Progress in getting the three of them back to their home dimension is slow. Dimension Hopping is a rare experience, and what update Bruce gets he relays back to Danny and Dick: they're trying to figure out a way to send them back safely, from the exact time they disappeared, and to find what dimension they're from. It's complicated magic.

It's been three weeks. 

Danny, for one, is getting homesick. He misses Jazz, Sam, and Tucker terribly, and his parents. Bruce and Dick are great, really, and Danny kinda wants to keep in touch with them after they return to their own world, but they aren't replacements of his sister and friends.

His nightmare from a few days ago still haunt his steps. He closes eyes, and that high-pitched laughter and blood-rushed pounding burns itself his ears and fills a level of unseen terror into his heart. Danny thinks that if he was hit with Scarecrow's fear gas, this is what it would feel like.

He tries to avoid falling asleep by reading in his room, by stargazing, but the place sets him on edge; an unsettling reminder of that nightmare. So he goes to the library when it gets too much, he's run into Bruce twice now doing it, and they both do reading.

Danny thinks Bruce can suspect something is up with him, but he doesn't want to tell him about that nightmare. Dick either, for that matter. He just wants to forget it.

They spend afternoons in the gym, they have it mostly to themselves - Tim Drake is at Wayne Industries, Damian Wayne is at school, so is Duke Thompson, and Cassandra Cain is... doing whatever she does during the day. Danny's not totally sure.

Dick in that time, tries showing Danny how to be more flexible. He says he's a fast learner, but Danny knows he's been slacking lately with his lack of sleep.

There isn't much they can do outside of the manor - Bruce and Dick can't go outside because they'll catch the attention of the paparazzi, and they are both significantly younger than their counterparts, and Danny isn't allowed out without a chaperone.

Which has its own unique set of problems because rumors could rapidly start if he's seen with any of the Waynes multiple times. The paparazzi aren’t dumb enough… okay, most — some — of them aren’t dumb enough to make a tabloid claiming there’s a new Wayne kid just because they see the Waynes interacting with one kid, one time. Multiple times however? That’s another story. And, he has the same issue as Bruce and Dick - he's a baby-faced Jason Todd. Who is Bruce Wayne's adoptive son in this world. He could be recognized. 

And how do you explain a tiny Jason Todd to a world where Jason Todd is a full grown man?

So all three of them are... stuck inside, so to speak. And making do with what they can. Danny spends most of his morning and early noon with Dick, and then they both separate after to have time to themselves before dinner.

Bruce is in one of the studies, doing... something. Danny's not sure and he keeps forgetting to ask.

--

Dick likes Danny - Jason? - Jay. Danny said that he can call him Jason, and he doesn't protest to being called Jay. 

Point is: he likes Jay. He's a delightful kid to be around; he's funny, and clever, even if he doesn't realize it himself. And Dick's a little upset that Jay isn't his brother in his world, he would've loved to have him around the manor. He probably would have visited more if he was around.

Something that he and Bruce were still slowly trying to fix...

He likes spending time with him - getting to teach him his acrobatic tricks was not something he expected, but he loves showing Jay how to do them. He thinks this is probably how Bruce felt when he was training Dick how to be Robin, all those years ago.

Speaking of which, Dick was still not over the Robin jacket that Jay wore. The origins of it weren't the best - Jay started wearing it to take back the insult the other kids at his school were throwing at him - but isn't that what part of what being Robin was about? 

Cheesy, he knows. But his point still stands.

He thinks that if he had to pass the Robin title down to anyone, it would be Daniel Jason Todd-Fenton. Or perhaps just Jason Fenton-Todd? Jay doesn’t seem all that attached to the name Danny. 

(“Mom and dad just started calling me it when they picked me up.” Danny — Jay shrugged when Dick asked him about it, the two of them swinging from bar to bar. “I wasn’t tellin’ ‘em my name at the time, so they gave me a new one.”) 

If he had met Jason before the Fentons had, Dick thinks maybe he would have adopted him instead. And what would that future look like? Would he have been able to, when he had to go to college and classes? Would he have been able to keep going out at night, and keep that secret to himself? 

He’ll never know, he supposes. 

“I think that’s it for today.” Dick says, swinging off the jungle gym and landing on the mats with a cat-like thump. Behind him, Jay groans, and drops with a less graceful thud as Dick stretches out his spine. There’s a satisfying pop-pop-pop of his back as he leans back. 

He turns, and sees Jay going for his water bottle. He looks tired — from what, Dick doesn’t know. But there are dark bags under his eyes and a sleep-distracted look on his face. He’s been distracted, and their lessons have been suffering from it. 

Dick wants to know what’s bothering him, but Jay hasn’t said anything, and Dick doesn’t know what he could say to make it better. 

“I can still keep going.” Jason insists, but he tiredly slumps over to grab his water, and straightens up sluggishly. It’s probably not a lie, but anything Dick shows him he doubts that Jay will retain it. “You don’t have to stop.”

“Oh but I want to.” Dick says, walking over to grab his own water. “I’m human too you know—” and Jay snorts at him with a grumbled ‘doubt it’. “—so I also need my breaks.” 

“With the way you can bend I really don’t think so.” Jason mutters, eyeing him up and down. Dick laughs quietly and takes a long sip of his water. “Seriously, circus boy, what do they feed you? Actually - what did they feed myself?”

Dick’s laughter doubles as Jay’s eyes grow wide and wild, his head shaking with spasming arms. “No, seriously! I don’t know if you’ve seen the other me yet, Dick, but he- he’s fucking huge!” He exclaims, and jumps as high as he can as his arms try to make a silhouette above his head. “I- I’m almost as big as Jack Fenton, and we’re not even biologically related! I don’t know where he got that much height to him, ‘cause- ‘cause Willis, that drunk bastard, was never that big!” 

Dick hasn’t seen the elusive other Jason Todd, and he’s been so curious about him. Both he and Bruce have — especially considering that everyone else doesn’t seem to want to tell them about him. He tried stopping his other self to ask about Jason Todd of his world, and his other self just said that he was his little brother and the second robin, and that he did a lot of his own stuff. 

It was a whole bunch of fucking nothing. And he and Bruce were growing suspicious about it. They hadn’t thought of it before because, well, they were busy adjusting to being in a new world and trying to figure out a way back. And then Jason was never really brought up, but neither was Dick Grayson unless Dick asked about it, and he didn’t think to ask about Jason Todd before.

It was all just strange.

But Jay’s exclamation over the size of himself distracts Dick long enough that he forces himself to put the mystery of Jason Todd on the backburner for now. “I’ll- I’ll have to see him for myself, Jaybird.” He says when his laughter subsides, and he straightens up. 

“Seriously,” Jay stresses, and he starts to make his way towards the gym door. “He’s fucking massive, Dick. Built like a brick shithouse.” 

Dick almost starts laughing again, “Where did you even learn that phrase?” 

Jay rolls his shoulders back and grins at him slyly, “I read.” He says, and it’s so clearly not how he learned that word that Dick barks out a laugh. 

They reach the door, and Jay holds the door open as Dick reaches for the light switch. He looks behind him, surveying the room quickly to make sure that there’s nothing they could have left on the floor, before turning off the lights.

Bright green eyes stare at him from the mirror. Right where Jay is standing. 

In an instant, the lights are back on. Dick’s heart has been kickstarted into fifth gear, suddenly and loudly racing in his chest as he darts his head around the room. It was only two seconds, perhaps only even one, but fear has been shot like an adrenaline needle into Dick’s veins. An inhuman, skyrocketing fear alike to Scarecrow’s fear gas. 

What was that?

What was that?

WHAT WAS THAT?  

But there’s nothing there. There’s nothing there. There’s nothing there. There is only Jason where the eyes were. 

From the mirror’s reflection, Jason turns his head — he hadn’t been looking at Dick, he hadn’t been looking at Dick — and stares up at him. There is confusion written on his face as he glances up at Dick, and then at the mirror. He meets his eyes - Jason’s blue, blue, not green, eyes — and Dick forces himself to look away from the mirror and down at Jay.

“What was that for?” Jay asks him, perfectly normal and perfectly confused. 

Dick feels like he just ran a marathon. He’s panting, he doesn’t know why, and he forces himself to sound like he wasn’t as he wets his lips and furrows his brows. “I thought I saw something.” He says, frowning. 

He didn’t think. He did. He did. 

What did he see? 

It was standing where Jay was. Those eyes. Those green-green eyes. It was where Jay was. He forces himself to shake his head, his frown deepening, unsettled. Jason peers around him as if to see what he had, and Dick puts a hand on his chest, stopping him. “It was nothing, let's go.” 

He turns Jay around, and ignores his bewildered look. That lighthearted mood he had earlier has plummeted, replaced with an eerie paranoia as he takes the door from Jason’s hand and flicks the lights back off. 

When he looks over his shoulder at the mirror, there’s nothing there. 

—------------

Danny has another nightmare. It’s the same one. It’s dark again. That high pitched laughter fills his ears. The ticking is louder, louder, louder. It’s counting down, but to what - he can’t see — he can’t see what it’s counting down to. 

There is still so much pain. His head hurts, his body hurts. He has a body now, he can remember he has a body. He’s in so much pain. He looks down at his hands and pooling around his knees is a bloody yellow cape, it’s torn and bloody and his hands are bloody and torn and he’s wearing green gloves. 

He wakes up just before the ticking stops. He doesn’t know how he knows that the ticking stops. 

Danny rolls over and hangs himself sideways off the bed, gasping for air that doesn’t come. He wants to scream again, to shriek with such terror that it sends everyone in the manor running into his room. He doesn’t, he can’t, he has no mouth and he must scream. 

Danny gasps for air instead, and then dry heaves until he throws up onto the floor. His head is spinning with the fadings of a dream-made concussion, again. His chest hurts deeper, more, it’s no longer shallow and as if someone was sitting on his chest, like someone had beat him in the stomach and chest and head.  

He feels like he’s choking. He is, he’s choking on what bile he can’t get out of his throat, and he forces himself to swallow it back down. He’s crying, he realizes, and dragging in air down into his lungs to the point it hurts. 

What is going on? He thinks through the haze in his mind. With what lucidity he has he brings a hand to his head to make sure he’s not bleeding. His palm swipes against sticky skin, and all that comes back is sweat. He’s not bleeding. He feels like he is. 

Make it stop. His inner mind wails as he finally, finally, starts to calm down again. He’s still crying. The tears burn down his cheeks, and he absently sticks out his tongue and licks the ones that gather at his lips away. He wipes at his face again, and when he looks at his hands, all he sees is skin.

He’s not wearing gloves. 

His hands reach for his back, and grasp his sweat-soaked shirt instead. He’s not wearing a cape. It soothes him, just a little bit. But not enough to keep him feeling safe. 

Danny peers over the side of the bed, and through his dark-adjusted eyes he sees the sitting puddle of throw-up on the floor. He cringes, sniffling. He can’t keep that there. He needs to — he needs to clean that up. 

Alfred must be sleeping by now — what time is it? He doesn’t know. He can’t wake him up. Where does Alfred keep the cleaning supplies? 

Danny throws his legs over the side — they’re not broken, he thinks dazedly — why would he think they’re broken? — and he stumbles to the door. He avoids, somehow, the sick.

(He passes by a mirrored vanity on his way to the door. He doesn’t see his reflection staring at him with green-green eyes. He doesn’t see those eyes following him.) 

He runs into Bruce in the hallway. He should have guessed it so. Danny freezes in his tracks, fear shooting up into his throat as Bruce turns towards him, already a smile pulling on the older man’s face. 

It drops immediately when he sees him. It twists down, and his face burrows into concern. “What’s wrong?” He asks, and Bruce is kneeling before him before Danny can blink. He looks worried. Danny must look awful then.

(He does. He looks pale as a ghost, and his face is splotchy red and shiny with tears.) 

Danny blinks at him numbly, trying to get his thoughts in order. Bruce’s hands are on his shoulders, Danny throws his hands over them, squeezing the knuckles and blinking widely. “I had-” he licks his lips, “a- uh, nightmare. And then I threw up.”

Fuck, he feels like a toddler. His eyes burn with embarrassed tears. He’s fucking thirteen. He’s not a baby. But he feels like a little kid going to their parent’s room. Bruce isn’t even his dad. He shouldn’t feel this way. 

But Bruce doesn’t make fun of him, or scold him, and Danny didn’t really expect him to, but the concern that melts over his face as his eyes soften makes him feel all warm and fuzzy anyways. “Okay,” Bruce says, expression softened but no less worried, and stands up. “Okay, we can go find Alfred then.” 

Danny’s lips press together, uneven and wobbling. “Please don’t.” He says before he can stop himself, and his voice cracks. He feels like such a baby. “I can clean it myself. We don’t have to wake him up.” 

“Do you even know where the cleaning supplies are, chum?” Bruce asks, and in the dark hallway he can see him raise an eyebrow. Danny’s lips press tighter together. He doesn’t. But he can find it. 

They wake up Alfred. Dany feels like shit the entire time. 

“I’m sorry.” He croaks as he follows Alfred and Bruce down the hallway with a mop and a bucket. He’s so embarrassed. He’s going to cry again, and he hates it. “I can do it, Mister Pennyworth. Please.” 

“You sound,” Mister Pennyworth starts, his voice soft, “just like young Master Jason when he started living here.” He turns to throw Danny an endeared smile, and Danny thinks it’s supposed to make him feel better. It does, a little bit, and it also makes him feel worse. 

“I am Jason.” He says, and tears spill down his face again. He is Jason. That’s his name. It’s not Danny, it never has been. The time he’s been here has slowly been pointing that out to him. He may be Fenton, but he’s not Danny. 

Alfred gets it all cleaned up, and Bruce sticks with him after he leaves. Danny’s grateful and resentful of it — hasn’t he embarrassed himself enough tonight? 

Bruce leads him to the library, a funny parallel to the first time. “We can ask Mister Wayne —” Bruce’s face scrunches up slightly, and Danny laughs under his breath. At least he’s not the only one still weirded out by it. “— about getting you a new room tomorrow.” 

Danny sniffs dryly, “How’d you know?” He didn’t think it was obvious that he didn’t want to go to sleep in his room. Bruce smiles knowingly at him, sadly, and they both sit down in the lounge chair next to the fireplace. It sits across from Danny’s armchair.

“I know a thing or two about nightmares.” He says softly.

Oh. 

Yeah.

That’s right. His parents. 

He probably had nightmares about that. 

Danny looks away from him, his eyes drop to his hands. His bare, non-bloody hands. He leans into Bruce’s side. “I don’t wanna talk about it.” He mumbles. He doesn’t want to talk about dying. Or what he thought was dying.  

“And you don’t have to.” Bruce says, slinging one arm around him and slumping against the curve of the chair. Danny reluctantly follows his falling, and finds himself trapped between the back of the chair and Bruce’s side. His ear is pressed to Bruce’s heartbeat. “We can just sit here, and talk about something else.” 

Danny blinks at the empty fireplace. “Okay. Tell me about films again.” 

Bruce’s fingers dig gently into his hair, and scratch slowly against his scalp. “Okay, Danny.” 

Danny frowns. “And don’t call me Danny. It’s Jason.” 

He doesn’t look up to see Bruce’s smile, but he can hear it as the man thumbs over the shell of his ear. “Okay, Jason.” 

(Danny falls asleep halfway through Bruce’s telling of the history of the Grey Ghost. Bruce knows by the way his breathing slows into a steady rhythm and his eyes don’t open.) 

(He smiles for mite a moment, before it drops and his eyes turn to the bookshelf in the corner. Standing there is a small black figure, with two burning green eyes.) 

(They stare at each other for a long, long minute, Bruce’s heart rising slowly. The figure tilts its head, and disappears. Bruce doesn’t sleep for the rest of the night.) 

—-------

Danny stares down Bruce. Bruce stares him down back. It’s morning. It’s breakfast. Everyone is at the table eating, and he and Bruce are having a silent staring contest. Danny has to ask Mister Wayne about moving to a new room, he thought he would be able to do so after breakfast. 

(Who was he kidding? He wasn’t going to ask at all - why bother Mister Wayne about something he can get over?) 

(Bruce, apparently, wasn’t having it. With that stupid knowing look on his face.) 

But Bruce wants it to be now. Danny narrows his eyes at him, and Bruce raises an eyebrow back. Dick Grayson, his world, was going to notice soon. He was sitting next to Bruce this morning. That traitor. 

If you don’t do it, I will. Bruce’s face says. Bastard. Danny was going to take away his Jason rights.

Danny’s the first to relent, pressing his lips together into an annoyed, thin line, before he lets out a silent sigh and turns to Mister Wayne. “Mister Wayne?” He says, cringing slightly when Mister Wayne looks up at him - as with most of the room. 

“Yes, Danny?” 

He spares one last look at Bruce, who nods curtly at him, and Danny throws him one last annoyed look before turning back to Mister Wayne. “Would it, uh, be fine if I changed rooms?” He asks. 

Mister Wayne tilts his head, slightly, to the side with a look of interest. “You can, but what brought this up? Is everything okay?”

Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Danny was expecting that question. He glares at Bruce from the corner of his eye. And then smiles shakily at Mister Wayne. “Um, uh, yeah. Everything’s fine— it’s just, it’s stupid. Some, some stupid nightmares keeping me up.” 

Mister Wayne’s brows furrow, and Dick looks concerned from Danny’s peripherals. “It’s not stupid, you can change your room. I’m sorry you’ve been having nightmares.”

He doesn’t even ask what they’re about. Bruce didn’t either — he thinks he would’ve, maybe — but fuck, jeez. Danny laughs uncomfortably, scratching his jaw. “Yeah- um, thanks. It sucks.” He just barely stops himself from blurting out that he was dreaming that he was dying.

That was not a can he wanted to open. They would have questions, he knows they would, and he doesn’t want to think about it. The image of his bloody, torn hands are already seared into his mind. 

Everyone goes back to eating.

(Dick keeps looking up at him with a shadow of a frown on his face, like he’s keeping an eye on him. Quick enough that Danny doesn’t notice it. Bruce does, and watches his son from the corner of his eye.)

(Danny doesn’t see it, but his reflection turns its head. And peers around the back of its chair. Its eye burns green and it stares at Dick. The next time Dick looks up, it catches his eye.)

(He doesn’t straighten up, he forces himself not to react. He just keeps staring at it, his breath locked in his lungs, his limbs filling with a low, buzzing static. He doesn’t know what it is. It’s terrifying him.)

(The reflection doesn’t react to him, but its eyes seem to… glitch. And an eye appears next to it, and another one appears in a line. The pupils slowly turn to look��� at Danny.)

(The window begins to crack.)

“JaSON!” Dick suddenly yells, standing up so abruptly that his chair falls back and slams against the ground with an echoing bang. Danny jerks back in surprise, and stares at Dick, who looks at him with equally wide eyes. 

Dick looks like he’s seen a ghost, his face pale as a sheet. He looks ill. He’s panting, there’s a sheen going over his forehead, like he’s just run a mile. But he’s gripping the table like he may just vault over it.

And everyone is looking at them both once again. Bruce looks incredibly concerned. 

“I— what?” Danny says, pushing his back into the chair as far as he could go. 

Dick blinks, and heaves a breath. Like whatever trance he was in was just… snapped out of. His brows furrow, and he moves, suddenly, peering over Danny like he’s trying to look around him. Left, right, and over, and then back again. 

“You—” he pauses, breathing in, “you looked like you were about to disappear.” 

Danny stares at him in disbelief. And he looks behind him, laughing nervously. There’s nothing there but his own reflection in the smooth glass window. “What- what kind of fucking—” he turns back around to look at Dick. “Why would you say that?” 

“There was something in the window.” Dick says immediately, and Danny is immediately rising to his feet and rushing around the table. Nope - nope, nope, fuck that. He’s by him and Bruce in an instant, as the other Waynes stand up and turn to the window as well.

Dick’s arms are around him the moment he’s within reach, tugging him into his side as one hand presses down against his chest, keeping him close. Dick hasn’t taken his eyes off the window, brows furrowed and serious. 

Everyone looks so serious. It’s freaking him out a little bit. 

“What was your nightmare about, Jay?” Dick asks when he finally tears his eyes away from the window and looks down at him. He’s got a protective hold on him, something so similar to Jazz whenever their parents set something on fire upstairs. 

Danny swallows dryly — does he have to say it? Saying it might bring him back to it, and he doesn’t want to go back to it. Twice was enough for him. “I was dying.” He admits anyways, and regrets it immediately when half a dozen heads all snap to look at him. 

In a panic, his mouth runs. “I was- I don’t remember anything- I just, it was dark and I was in pain and-” He presses his lips together, “I— I was in so much pain. There was this laughter—” Laughter. Familiar laughter now that he thinks about it. From the news. Danny’s lips curl downwards, and he whispers to himself, “Joker?”

“Joker?” Dick repeats, his voice hard. When Danny looks up, his face is unrecognizably stern. “You had a dream that the Joker was killing you?” 

“I— no— yes?” Frustration bleeds into his chest, fear pooling up his throat as the nightmare pulls on the edge of his memory. “I don’t fucking know. I didn’t see anything, all I heard was ticking and that stupid laughter. And I was bleeding, and I was wearing this yellow fucking cape, and- and I was dying.” 

He pulls himself away from Dick, his breathing picking up. “I just- I was— there was this ticking sound and I woke up before it stopped, and I- I don’t know why I knew it was about to stop — but I know that when the ticking stops something bad was going to happen— and it was just a nightmare.” 

Danny grits his teeth, and looks back up at Dick, forcing himself to calm down before he works himself into a panic. “It was just a fucking nightmare, Dick.” He says forcibly, and then he marches out of the room to the library. 

His appetite’s been ruined. 

—---------

Danny’s — Jason’s — asleep next to him. Bruce would think it was sweet if it weren’t for the fact that Jason’s been having nightmares about dying of all things. Nightmares that weren’t, he suspects, completely unfounded. 

His other self looked ill in the face as Jason marched out of the room that morning after Dick’s outburst. Outburst. That’s all he can think to call it even if it sounds juvenile. Like it was unfounded as Jason’s nightmare. 

His other self has been hiding something from him. Something about Jason Todd of this world, who he hasn’t seen at all since they arrived, but Danny — Jason — has. He would’ve thought the other Todd was a ghost if his other world’s… children… hadn’t confirmed seeing and knowing him recently. 

(That was something he still hasn’t fully comprehended. Children, plural? He adopts more after Dick? He has a biological son?) 

He’d be interrogating his other self on this if Jason wasn’t asleep next to him. It would be remarkably easy, as they were all sitting in the living room for the afternoon. All his other children were vigilantes, he wouldn’t need to keep pretenses.

But Jason is asleep next to him, and he doesn’t know. So he resolves to staring holes into his other self’s head, who was going through documents. A case, he bets. His other self doesn’t pay him any mind, but Bruce knows he knows that he’s staring at him. 

(“What have you been keeping from me?” He growls the moment Jason is out of the dining room, rising to his feet. The look on his other self meant that he knew something about those nightmares that Bruce didn’t. 

His other self looks at him, “Nothing that concerns your world.” He says, all of the kids looked tense as well, but now they were staring between the both of them like a fight would break out. 

“Bullshit.” Dick snaps before Bruce can speak, he walks around him and points an accusing finger at his other self. “You looked like you saw a ghost when Jaybird said he was dreaming of the Joker killing him. You know something.”

He did not tell them anything.) 

Whatever it was that his other self was hiding, Bruce would find out before they went back to their world. This concerned him, and it concerned Jason’s safety. If he wasn’t safe and his other self knew something about it, Bruce would be furious. 

Jason’s ragged gasp cut through the air like a knife, and Bruce’s gaze snapped down to his face as the boy’s eyes flew open and he jerked sharply. Jason’s hands were latched onto his shirt before Bruce could react, his nails dragging into his skin like he was trying to claw himself up.

It was another nightmare. Jason was clawing at him, trying to sit himself up while jagged, awful sounding gasps filled the air. He wasn’t looking at Bruce, he wasn’t looking at anything, his eyes glazed over like he was still trapped in the nightmare. 

Bruce wrapped his arms around the small boy and pulled them both down onto the ground, ignoring his other children standing up and looking at them until he had Jay in a cradle. 

The boy was still gasping for air, hyperventilating. His hands drop from Bruce’s shirt and scratch at his throat, his arms forming an ‘x’ while he tilts his head back and desperately tries to draw in oxygen. Bruce tilts his head back up with his hand, and leans him against his shoulder. 

“Breathe.” He murmurs, pushing damp black curls out of Jay’s face. It was a poor command - Jason’s eyes were squeezed shut and his face scrunched in pain, Bruce doesn’t think he can even hear him. “You’re safe.” 

“Bruce.” Dick hisses into his ear, and Bruce doesn’t look at him. He grunts to let his son know he heard him. “The mirror.” 

Bruce’s eyes fly up.

There was a floor length mirror sitting in front of the couch. A mirror that Bruce was conveniently, coincidentally, sitting in front of. A mirror that should have been working as all mirrors do. 

A mirror that, instead of showing Bruce his reflection back as he was, showed him in his Batman suit. Jason was in his arms, but in a torn, bloody uniform. A uniform that looked like a Robin suit. Jason - his Jason - wasn’t a Robin. But here he was, dressed as one, his black-yellow cape pooling beneath him and covered in blood. 

The Jason in the mirror, the Robin, wasn’t breathing. His head lolled over Bruce’s arm lifelessly. 

Bruce’s heart skids to a stop, and he looks back down. Jason was still breathing, his hyperventilating was beginning to slow, but he was breathing. The pained crease of his face was softening, even as his brows were still furrowed. 

When Bruce looks back up at the mirror, the reflection has changed. It wasn’t back to normal, Jason was just in a different suit. He was wearing a white hazmat suit now, and he was burned, horribly. The suit was melted to his skin in patches around his body in black, charred splotches, what wasn’t burned was torn, and the skin he could see was cauterized. The only part of him that was bleeding was his head, and it soaked his black hair red. What of his face he could see, there were bright green lightning figures going up his neck, burning the skin around where it glows. 

The mirror cracks down the middle, severing Jason from Bruce. 

He forces himself to look down, terrified to see the reflection a reality right in front of him. But Jason was alive, uninjured, and breathing quietly. Bruce presses two fingers to his throat, and feels a steady pulsepoint thumping against the pads of his fingers.

Jason’s eyes open and blue stares up at him.  

When Bruce looks up at the mirror, the reflection is back to normal.  

[wangxianficfinder]

I'm in the mood for...

Aug 8th

~*~

1. Could you recommend me a list of the saddest fanfics of mdzs?

I need a trigger to uplift my reading slump. Thanks^^

🔒 salt to the sea by starmins (M, 31k, WangXian, WWX & JYL, Modern AU, Grief/Mourning, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Road Trips, Additional Warnings In Author’s Note, Canonical Character Death)

Across the street to another life by danegen (M, 99k, WangXian, Modern, unleashed au, Family Fluff, Set in America, Hurt/Comfort, Past Child Abuse, Addiction, Crime, Amnesia, Ableist Language, another fridged mother, POV Alternating, past wwx/ofc, past wwx/omc, Medium parent YZY, A-Yuan is wwx’s biological son, Musicians, Happy Ending)

grave goods by luckymarrow (E, 28k, WangXian, Grief/Mourning, Minor Character Death, Modern AU, mortician!wwx, Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Marriage Proposal, abrupt tonal shifts, Tragicomedy, Comedy, Romance, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Adoption, Implied/Referenced Abuse, for lan parents, it’s not described and is all backstory, Family Bonding, Family Dynamics, Married WangXian, brief daddy kink, the barest hint of consensual non-consent, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, BDSM)

Meet Me At The Corner After Dark by Omen1991 (M, 21k, WangXian, Modern, Ghosts, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Character Death, but he's already dead, Injury, Concerns about self-harm, no actual self-harm, Panic Attacks, Office, Tears, Sad with a Happy Ending, Reincarnation, kind of, mild romance, POV LWJ, Ghost WWX, Neurodivergent LWJ, Amnesiac WWX, Siblings who love each other, Autism, Autistic LWJ, Translation Available)

to the act of making noise by words-writ-in-starlight (WordsWritInStarlight) (G, 19k, LSZ & LWJ, LSZ & WWX, WangXian, Grief/Mourning, Father-Son Relationship, inquiry, LSZ is the best of boys and I will not hear debate, Music, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, [Podfic] to the act of making noise by Ceewelsh, flamingwell, kisahawklin, Rionaa) This is basically Lan Yuan growing up with Inquiry as a lullaby (and seeing LWJs grief through his eyes). It has a happy ending, but I couldn't get through this without a box of tissues. If you want the emotions dialed up even more, listen to the podfic version with music

ius in bello by Lise (T, 2k, JC & JYL & WWX, Canon Divergence, Tearjerker, Sad Ending, Heavy Angst, Grief/Mourning, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Not A Fix-It, POV JC, [Podfic] ius in bello by flamingwell) WWX doesn't survive Qiongqi Path, told from Jiang Cheng's perspective

dormiveglia (in between sleeping and waking) by comforting_monachopsis (M, 13k, WangXian, XuanLi, Diary/Journal, Golden Core Reveal, Canonical Child Abuse, Canonical Character Death, YLLZ WWX, Oblivious WWX, Protective WWX, WWX Needs a Hug, Grief/Mourning, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Sort Of, Dysfunctional Family, Family Issues, Thirteen Years of WWX’s Death, Dead WWX, Angst and Tragedy) where wwx doesn't come back but left a journal behind and everyone has to live with it

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2. itmf wangxian dating in cloud recesses study arc?

🧡 Stunted, Starving Juvenility by TomatenMark (E, 828k, WangXian, WIP, Fix-it of sorts, Talisman master WWX, Not JFM Friendly, Study Arc, Getting together, Fluff and Angst, Engagement)

Just Say Yes Series by edenwolfie (T/M, 338k, WangXian, Matchmaking, Pining, Getting Together, Canon Divergence, POV Alternating, Fluff, First Kiss, Declarations Of Love, Humor, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Good Uncle LQR, Engagement, Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It)

it’s just (aah) a little crush (crush!) by sweetlolixo (T, 9k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Romance, Fluff, Pining LWJ, Humor, Courting Rituals, Teen Wangxian)

🔒 in the shadow of moonlit flowers by Reverie (cl410) (T, 56k, WangXian, LXC/NMJ, cloud recesses, NHS & LWJ friendship, developing relationship, LWJ pov, minor injuries, autistic LWJ, implied/referenced child abuse, aka YZY warning, genius WWX, light angst, hurt/comfort, WWX protection squad)

💖 Hoards and treasures by apathyinreverie (T, 21k, WangXian, Siblings, Family, not particularly Jiang friendly, YZY Bashing, slightly darker Gusu Lans, LXC being the best brother, Some manipulation, But with the best of intentions, and not between wangxian, Dragon LWJ, Fox WWX, Smitten LWJ, Fluff, perfect happiness, adorable WWX, Romance, Some worldbuilding, courting)

30 Days of Secret Marriage at Cloud Recesses by starandrea (T, 43k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Bunnies, Gusu Lan Forehead Ribbon, Accidental Marriage, Coming Out, Falling In Love, supportive family, Fluff, Happy Ending, the whole story is happy)

A Wedding of Choice by scifigeek14 (T, 17k, WangXian, Everyone Lives, Marriage Proposal, Episode Related Canon Divergence, POV Third Person Limited)

You Are My Euphoria by orphan_account (M, 17k, wangxian, canon divergence, fluff, making out, 5+1, pining)

loveliness by orphan_account (T, 1k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Pining, Teen Romance, Getting Together)

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3. ITMF any fics where there is a focus or moment where wwx knows lwj can and will spoil the hell out of him and give him money for anything. kind of like the "it's not my money anyway" moment in the drama. preferably set in canon time period, but won't say no to a modern au if it has a good plot! thank you!!

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4. I was wondering if anyone was aware of any fics that are dark!LWJ but the relationship between him and WWX isn't toxic or dubcon? Something like a mafia, a/b/o, or emperor au, but without the more non-con like elements that are often found in those fics. I would love to read more dark!LWJ, but the tag is full of the more toxic stuff that I personally can't handle (no judgement here, I wish I could lol), so any help is much appreciated! (ITMF ask)

🔒🧡 Rule Number One: Never get attached. by KizuKatana (E, 130k, WangXian, Modern AU, A/B/O, Criminal underworld AU, Fluff and angst, Crime boss LWJ, Rouge criminal genius WWX, Explicit Sex)

Crown Jewel of the Hoard by xFourLeafCloverx (E, 29k, WIP, WangXian, Dark WangXian, Organized Crime, Gun Violence, Consensual Non-Consent, Omegaverse, Shifters, bunxian, dragonji, killing as foreplay and postplay, LWJ is So Whipped, Intersex Omegas, Disfigurement, Blood and Gore, Sugar Daddy LWJ, Jiang Family Bashing, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering) Got mafia and wangxian being together without one of them being forced into it

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5. itmf deaf or hoh wei wuxian please

misunderstood 'verse by sysrae (M, 7k, WangXian, Modern, College/University, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, getting hit by cars, Past Child Abuse, Friends to Lovers, Abusive YZY, Caring LWJ, Injured WWX, partial hearing loss, the real OTP is everyone x therapy)

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6. ITMF fics where Lan Zhan and/or Wei Ying smoke/get high (not drunk) can be weed or harder drugs, also okay if it's just Lan Zhan feeding Wei Ying drugs. @thehappyyellow

a constant satellite of your blazing sun (i obey your law of gravity) by Ariaste (M, 26k, JGY/LXC, WangXian, JGY & WWx, Madam LAN/QHJ, Modern, Slice of Life, Established Relationship, Family Drama, Flashbacks, HOAverse, Marijuana, Nice Lan Boys Marry Gremlins, (bass boosted) NICE LAN BOYS MARRY GREMLINS, OC(s), (sort of), OC Death(s), (but like it's already in canon so you know about it already)) this is part of the HOA series, but does feature wwx and lwj (among others) getting high. Not entirely sure if it can be read as a standalone, but the entire series is hilarious and absolutely worth checking out.

2am on a saturday by detectorist (E, 11k, WangXian, Modern AU, College/University, Recreational Drug Use, (no sex happens while drunk/high!), Humour, Pining, Getting Together, Blow Jobs, it's about the yearning, somehow a harmonica gets involved, the lz/mm/jzx best friends agenda)

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7. Itmf the juniors being protective of WWX?

Rotten Work by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 63k, WangXian, WWX & JL, Post-Canon, Protective WWX, Protective JL, Yunmeng Bros Reconciliation, Reluctant Matchmaker JL)

🔒 The Absolutely True Story of the Yiling Patriarch: A Manifesto in Many Parts by aubreyli (T, 19k, WangXian, In-Universe RPF, Romance Novel, LJY’s sense of justice, OYZZ’s sense of romance, Featuring a surprise appearance by WWX’s oft-absent sense of shame, Look the ducklings just want their sort-of dads to be happy okay?, And it’s not like WWX or LWJ are doing a good job of ensuring their own happiness, LJY rejects canon reality and substitutes his own, highly relatable actually, Post-Canon Fix-It, primarily drama-canon with cameos from novel-canon, Podfic Available, Russian Translation Available)

🧡 the stone-filled sea by yukla (T, 9k, WangXian, LSZ & WWX, Post-Canon, senior wei defense squad, a study of the way prejudice and injustice and anger trickle down from generation to generation)

bespoke by cafecliche (G, 3k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Fluff, LSZ is a very good boy, which is specifically a tag for the fic but also just true in general, mostly novel-compliant but could easily be CQL-compliant too)

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8. hello! for the next itmf, i would love to see fics where wwx does empathy with lxc and/or lqr and find out how mistreated he is. could be during his youth or post-sunshot, either one. thank you!

And Time Is But a Paper Moon by sami (M, 139k, WangXian, XiChengQing, Time Travel, Fix-It, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Healing, Mental Health Issues, PTSD, Hurt/Comfort, Depression, BAMF WWX, BAMF JC, BAMF LWJ, BAMF JYL, Getting Together) I'm not sure if these are quite what the requester was looking for but Lan Xichen uses Empathy (and is traumatized by it) to see a past timeline

❤️ All will be well when the day is done by abCEE (T, 76k, LQR & WWX, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Fix It, Not Jiang Family Friendly, JFM & YZY Bashing, YZY Bashing, Definitely not YZY centric, Fix it for our main characters, Time Travel, Butterfly Effect, Madam Lan Lives, No Sunshot Campaign, Artistic License, Unreliable Narrator, JC Bashing, non-yunmeng WWX, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Good Uncle LQR, OOC, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, WWX gets the love and care that he deserves from the very beginning, Mainly CQL but has elements of the novel as well, WWX Isn’t Adopted by the Jiangs, verbal and physical (c/o Zidian) abuse from YZY) and Lan Qiren uses Empathy to learn who a sick child Wei Ying is and learns about Wei Ying's abuse in his past timeline

Rise of the Divine Oracle by BlakSalt (T, 291k, WangXian, Boy Love, Hurt/Comfort, Romance)

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9. Does anyone have any Sizhui-centric fics where he learns about or pieces together his past with wwx and the wens before wwx comes back? 🥺 Like 'Would You Come Home?' By s6115, that was so good I need more fics with that concept. 😭 Please and thank you 🙏

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10. Hi I wondering if you knew any fics similar to: A Corpse Called by Name by jaemyun👀 thank you so much for your hard work?

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11. rogue cultivator wangji PLEASE

doesnt matter if its like post wwx's death or before the cloud recesses study arc i just have a NEED for rogue cultivator lwj if no one can find any i'll just write it myself i swear

🔒 And Miles To Go Before I Sleep by Glitterbombshell (T, 23k, WangXian, JC & LWJ, LSZ & LWJ, LXC & LWJ, Heavy Angst with a Happy Ending, LXC is not really a good brother in this sorry, Canon Divergence, rogue cultivator LWJ) This one is good & has an interesting impetus for LWJ leaving (the Jin find out LSZ is a Wen) but sadly hasn't been updated in almost 4 years. BTW please write a rogue cultivator!LWJ fic - this is an insanely underutilised trope considering the obvious story potential

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12. Hey! I’m in the mood for any and all fic where Lan Zhan marries into the Jiang sect with Wèi Ying. Thanks! @shapeshifters-anon

The Fire Lapping Up the Creek by notevenyou (E, 66k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Injury, Injury Recovery, Blood, Respiratory Illness, Major Illness, Fever, Grief/Mourning, Burial Mounds, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hunger and food scarcity, Surgery, Fix-It of Sorts)

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13. Hey, I'm looking for (and really need) a good story where WWX has had enough and just becomes a villain (+100 to interest if he goes back in time and is evil from the beginning) (+10 if WWX is a genius and uses his inventions to manipulating, getting what he wants and/or establishing his position so that no one can hurt or take advantage of him).

e.g. after destroying his new home and killing all the Wen, WWX destroys the seal and goes back in time, but instead of trying to fix everything and make it better he says "f*ck it" and simply stops being a good boy. He will be the same as the rest of the world... or something like that :)

Just... WWX as a villain <3 @ethealia

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14. Hello! I am looking for fics where Meng Yao / Jin Guangyao is wholly nice and good (and not secretly scheming and villainous and such). Any au or era, I just want to see him happy and safe and supported by friends. Thank you so much!

what builds a home by Stratisphyre (T, 45k, WangXian, MY & WWX, Canon Divergence, Adopted WWX, POV Multiple, warning for JGS behaving exactly as expected, child endangerment, Brother Feels, Minor Character Death, [Podfic] Cold read of "what builds a home" by Stratisphyre by KeriArentikaiPods (KeriArentikai))

Debts of a Child Part 2 by Hauntcats (M, 111k, WangXian, YZY Bashing, Not Jiang Family Friendly, Angst and Feels, lots of anger, JC Bashing, not Jiang friendly, Angst with a Happy Ending, Content warning for icky spiders in later chapters., hurt no comfort for Jiang siblings.)

a micro utopia born as the overture plays by tardigradeschool (T, 18k, wangxian, JGY/LXC, fix-it)

Meng Yao vs. the Board of the Homeowner's Association Series by Ariaste (M/T, 119k, WIP, XiYao, WangXian, Modern AU, Established Relationship, xiyao and wangxian are both already married, Family Feels, Domestic Fluff, Family Bonding, Slice of Life, Discussions of Past Trauma, wwx's canonical kinks, HOAverse)

结局难更改 (the ending is hard to change) Series by PorcupineGirl (G, 50k, WangXian, Time Travel, Modern with Magic, Modern Cultivators AU, Canon Divergence, Time Traveler WWX, discussion of canonical character deaths, conveniently localized fires, Discussion of Canonical Suicide Attempt, mostly happy but slightly bittersweet ending, Reincarnation, LWJ POV, Established Relationship, Aromantic JC) Not JGY centric, though.

Peony to Lotus series by Deriliarch (T, 65k, JYL/JGY, wangxian, canon divergence, arranged marriage, demisexual character, demiromantic character, fix-it, slice of life, angst)

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15. ITMF Jiang disciples trying to actually get Wei Wuxian out of the Jiang sect or keep him safe from the main Jiang family for his own safety

Just go forward like you mean it by tawaen (M, 101k, WangXian, WWX & WN &WQ, WWX & JYL, NHS & WWX, Canon Divergence, WWx does not attend the Wen indoctrination, WWX saves Lotus Pier, Inventor WWX, No Golden Core Transfer, Sect Leader JYL, JC Has No Golden Core, Bad Parents JFM & YZY, Not JC Friendly, but he gets a happier ending than canon so don't look here for bashing) There's a small scene where WWX decides to leave & a disciple helps him sneak away

Dispersing Clouds by dreamingofcake (E, 283k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Genius WWX, Inventor WWX, Not Jiang Family Friendly, Abusive YZY, Canonical Child Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Eventual Sex, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm (Background Character), Background Character Deaths, child deaths, Canon JC, Good Uncle LQR, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Cultivation Sect Politics, Homophobia, Heteronormativity, Feelings Realization, WWX is Not Oblivious) This might count? WWX leaves the clan himself, but there's a scene later in the fic where JFM & YZY are on trial & the Jiang disciples rebel & testify against them over WWX's treatment

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16. May I ask an ITMF for wwx having a pet/befriending/encountered avians like cranes, songbirds, crows, etc. please? I read a fic where wwx has an army of mischievous ravens and I'd like more recommendations if you have any!

A Long Road by Vathara (T, 187k, WangXian, Fluff and Angst, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Scheming NHS, Necromancy, Fire, Ghosts, Accidental Child Acquisition, is it an accident if the ghosts keep bringing them?)

We Meet at the Thousandth Step by Admiranda, Rynne (T, 316k, WangXian, CSSR/WCZ, Canon Divergence, No Sunshot Campaign, CSSR & WCZ Live, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Different First Meeting, Night Hunts, Genius WWX, Inventor WWX, Plot, Romance, Drama, Fluff, Strangers to married, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Everyone Lives, Developing Relationship, Minor Violence, Case Fic, Mystery, Flirting, WWX’s Canon-Typical Flower Flirting, Arson, There Was Only One Bed, Getting Together, First Kiss, Meeting the Parents, Resolved Sexual Tension, Resolved Romantic Tension, WWX Is a Good Big Brother, New Relationship Bliss, Chinese Mythology & Folklore, Blood and Injury, Yiling siblings, Married WangXian, Honeymoon, Wangxian’s Baby Fever) Wei Ying and Lan Zhan befriend and save a Zhenniao (a mythical bird) in chapters 41-44

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17. ITMF fics where Wei Wuxian is the Yiling Laozu but, like, he is established as such prior to or external to the events of canon? As in, WWX isn’t raised in Yunmeng and he doesn’t do the canon Gusu Lectures arc or Wen Indoctrination arc and such, instead he is already in Burial Mounds with a scary reputation. Usually this plot crops up in arranged marriage or war prize aus where Lan Wangji is given to the big bad Yiling Laozu to gain favor, kind of like in 山水盆景 (Shānshuǐ Pénjǐng) by meicairoubingfan where the Yiling Laozu is an immortal who the sects appeal to to intervene in the Sunshot Campaign conflict. Does this description make sense? Thank you!

what price is duty, what cost is love by thunderwear (G, 18k, wangxian, canon divergence, WWX was never adopted to Jiang, war prize, YLLZ WWX, pining, first kiss, first time, falling in love, angst w/ happy ending)

💖🔒 love, in fire and blood by cicer (E, 360k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, YLLZ WWX, Arranged Marriage, political scheming, Gratuitous Domesticity, Mutual Pining, EXTREME SLOWBURN, the inherent eroticism of the forehead ribbon, The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known, neither wwx nor lwj want to be Perceived, but sorry kids! it’s gonna happen!, rated E but the the NSFW stuff doesn’t begin until chapter 19!, bottom LWJ in chapter 20 and 27)

Old Foreshadows by protos_metazu_ison (M, 15k, WangXian, YLLZ WWX, BAMF WWX, War, Universe Alteration, Sunshot Campaign, Rated For Violence, Timeline What Timeline, Mojo's post)

🔒Fated Series by LtLJ (G, 31k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, Post-Apocalypse, Magical Apocalypse, Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Canon Diverted via Volcano, YLLZ WWX, Badass LWJ)

🔒hold me fast, fear me not by cicer (M, 16k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Fairy Tale Elements, Ballad 39: Tam Lin, Mpreg, Bottom LWJ/Top WWX, YLLZ WWX, brief reference to abortificants, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, may be interpreted as noncon by some)

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If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

You're Safe Now

Casey Novak x autistic fem!reader Warnings: Hurt/comfort, discussions of past child sexual abuse and child pornography, PTSD, flashbacks, panic attacks, brief and mild self-harm Word Count: 1,799 NOTE: Child sexual abuse/assault is a deeply triggering subject for many people. If you're one of them, please proceed with caution. As a victim myself, I know that, oftentimes, I find great comfort in reading stories that include narratives like mine, especially when they make me feel seen and heard and cared for. At other times, they are terrible for my mental health. Please just be mindful of your mental state as you read, especially if you are a victim. And if you need help, please reach out to the National Sexual Assault Hotline (1-800-656-4673).

Casey looked over Stabler's shoulder as he scrolled through grainy photo after photo. Stills from hundreds of pornographic VHS tapes, all of abused children. "Any of them prosecutable?" Stabler shook his head. "Nah, not on abuse charges. These are all 25 years old. The Feds just want us to look and see if we can make any connections."

"All the same ring?" "Yep. A Baptist church, if you can believe it. Somewhere in Tennessee. Apparently the ringleader moved to the city about 10 years ago. They just nailed him last month." Casey looked disgusted. "I absolutely can believe it was a church. They're like breeding grounds for pedophiles. No offense." Stabler gritted his teeth. "Sunday school teachers. What an introduction to God." They watched the nameless faces scroll past in silence. So many kids, so much hurt. A child flashed past the screen–a little girl with glasses–and Casey blinked. "Stop," she said. Stabler stilled his scrolling and glanced back at the ADA, curious. "Go back." He dutifully scrolled back up the page until Casey stopped him again. She stared at the pixelated photo, sick to her stomach. A little white shirt, a Ramona Quimby-style bob, multicolored glasses. And the cutest nose–your nose. It wasn't you. Surely, it couldn't be you. You would have told her. But the child in the picture looked so much like you. And you had grown up in Tennessee. Going to a Baptist church. Casey cleared her throat, trying to disguise the shakiness in her voice. "Can you print that photo for me?" Stabler looked long and hard at Casey. "Yeah, why?" "Just print it. Please." Stabler handed Casey the printed photo, and she snatched it, folding it tightly and placing it in her pocket. "Thanks," she said, walking swiftly away with her fists clenched. Stabler watched her go, concerned. He made a mental note to mention it to Olivia. _____________________________________________________________ When Casey came through the door that night, you were curled up on the couch watching Parks & Recreation. "Bye, Bye, Little Sebastian" played in the background and you sang along absentmindedly, typing on your laptop. "Hey, love," you called. "I didn't feel like cooking. Want to order a pizza?" Casey set down her briefcase and walked slowly to you, heart pounding in her chest. She sat across from you and paused the show. You looked at her and frowned. She looked terrified. You had never seen her look so scared. You threw your laptop aside and took her hand. "Hey, what's wrong?" you asked. "You look like someone died." Your eyes grew wide. "Did someone die?" Casey took a shaky breath. "Sweetheart, I need to ask you something." Now, you were scared, too. What could Casey possibly need to ask you that made her this anxious? "Okay," you replied, your voice quiet. She took one of your hands in hers and traced circles on it. After an excruciating few minutes, she asked, "Did anything happen to you when you were a kid?" Your stomach dropped and you felt ice flood your veins. There was no way she could know. Nobody knew. "W-what do you mean?" "Were you..." Casey started, clearing her throat. "Were you... abused at all?" You felt panic rising in your chest, your throat constricting as it became harder and harder to take a breath. "Why are you asking me that?" you cried, your voice growing frantic. "Casey, why are you asking me that!?"

Tears threatened the corners of your eyes, and your body started rocking back and forth. You felt like you were suffocating. Casey held onto your hand even tighter, her own eyes glistening, as she pulled the folded paper from her pocket and handed it to you. Your hands shook as you opened it, and when you saw yourself on that page, everything inside you shattered all at once. "No, no, no, no, no!" you cried, grabbing your head in your hands and rocking more and more aggressively. All of a sudden you couldn't breathe. Just like you couldn't breathe in that Sunday school room. Just like you couldn't breathe with in front of that camera with the red blinking light. And the hands. So many hands touching you, all over you. You coughed and retched, wrapping your arms around yourself. Your pupils darted back and forth, overtaking the rest of your eyes. And somehow you were back there, back in that room. The black carpet with the rainbow flecks. The smell of stale hymnals and men's sweat. The taste of the wintergreen mints they shoved in your mouth when they sent you back to your unwitting parents, masking the scent of vomit. You clenched your fists over your ears and slammed them into your head, grabbing your hair and pulling so hard a tuft came out.

Casey jumped up and grabbed your hands, trying to keep them away from your head. "Honey, don't do that," she pleaded, her voice breaking. "Please don't do that. I'm right here." She tried to wrap her arms around you, but you shoved her away. "Don't touch me!" You heard yourself screaming, as if from far away, as if you were sitting in the rafters of the Sunday school room, but no one could hear you. "No! Please, it hurts!" Tears streamed down your flaming face as you rocked back and forth, hyperventilating, tucked into the corner of the couch. You were as far away from Casey as you could get. Casey had dealt with a lot of victims. She'd been emotionally invested in a lot of victims. She cared deeply for and fought for so many victims. But you. You were hers. She felt like her heart was being physically ripped apart as she looked at your tiny, terrified form. In that moment, you were a mirror image of the scared little girl in the VHS still. Casey wiped her own tears away, trying to stay strong because you needed someone strong right now. God, she wanted to hold you. She wanted to scoop you up and protect you and tell you that it was okay, that she loved you, that she would never let anyone touch you again. But you wouldn't even let her close. "I'll be right back, sweetheart," Casey said, biting her lip as she looked at you, then jogging to the kitchen. It seemed like you couldn't even hear her. She thought you were having a flashback, but she didn't know how to help you out of it. She dialed Olivia's number and prayed to whatever powers there were in the universe that Olivia would pick up. "Benson."

"Oh, thank god," Casey exhaled.

"Casey? What's going on?"

"Do you know how to get someone out of a flashback?"

Olivia's voice deepened in concern. "Is this about that photo you got from Elliot?"

Casey paced back and forth, rubbing her forehead. "Yes. I don't have time to talk about it now. Do you know how to help with a flashback? Please."

"Uh..." Olivia started, clearly trying to provide information and make sure that Casey was okay. "Usually they need to be reminded of what's real and what's not."

"How?" Casey asked, trying to hide the desperation in her voice.

"Try engaging their senses. Something to shock them out of it. Ice, maybe. Or something with a strong smell."

"Okay, I got it," Casey said, sprinting to the bathroom.

"Casey, are you sure you're okay?"

"I'll talk to you about it later, Olivia," Casey barked, more terse than she meant to be. "Gotta go."

Casey rummaged in the vanity, looking for a specific bottle of perfume. She gripped it tightly in her hand and ran back to the kitchen, grabbing a bag of frozen green beans out of the freezer.

Casey took a deep breath before returning to your corner of the couch, where you sat curled and shaking and sobbing. She reached out to hold your hand, then stopped herself, instead grabbing the bottle of perfume and spraying it around you.

"Hey," she said, tentatively. "Honey, I don't know if you can hear me, but I'm here."

Your body shook uncontrollably, your eyes clamped shut.

"I'm gonna put this ice on you," Casey said. She wasn't sure you could hear her, but she wanted even your subconscious to know that she was there and doing everything she could to help you. She dropped the bag of green beans in your lap and you gasped, your head shooting up. You looked around frantically, and Casey grabbed at the chance to pull you out of the flashback. "Hey," she called. "Y/N, can you hear me?" You seemed to look both at her and past her at the same time. "Do you feel the cold? Honey, that's real. Can you smell my perfume? It's the one you like so much, the one that smells like pine trees. It's real."

You were confused, disoriented, but your frantic breathing was slowing down, and Casey took that as a sign it was working. "I'm right here, sweetheart, okay?" Her voice broke. She was dying to hold you, but she still wasn't sure you'd let her, and she didn't want to make it worse. "I'm right here with you. I love you, and I'm real. We're in our apartment, and that's real. Those men who hurt you, they're not real anymore." You kneaded the bag of green beans in your hands, still rocking, but less aggressively. Your vision was coming back into focus, the overlap of past and present becoming less confusing and overwhelming. You were finally able to look at Casey and see her. You looked into her eyes and a rush of shame poured over you. She looked terrified. Her face was streaked with tears. You didn't know if she was scared of you or scared for you, but either way you felt sick to have scared her.

Your face screwed up in tears and you looked away, burying your head in your hands. "I'm sorry, Casey," you cried. "I'm so sorry."

She surged toward you, her hands stopping inches short of your skin. "It's okay, Y/N, it's okay. I'm right here. Can I touch you?"

You nodded, but you still couldn't bring yourself to look at her.

Casey scooped you into her lap like a child, wrapping her arms protectively around you and cradling your head next to hers.

"I'm sorry, Casey," you said again and again, anxiety and panic and exhaustion giving way to pure shame as you grasped her shirt and wept. "I'm sorry."

Casey had tried. She had tried to hold it together for you, but seeing you so broken, hearing you apologize to her for this horrific thing that had happened to you–it broke her, too. Her tears came all at once. "You don't need to be sorry, honey," she told you, pressing her forehead to yours, your tears mingling. "You didn't do anything wrong. I'm sorry. I'm sorry it happened. I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect you."

You let out a shaky laugh, wiping snot from your nose. "You're like three years older than me."

She kissed the side of your head over and over, smoothing your wrecked hair and holding you as tight as she could. "You're safe now, Y/N," she said, for both of you, like a mantra. "I will always keep you safe. I won't let anyone hurt you ever again."

You buried your head under Casey's, making yourself small.

She rubbed your back, breathing slowly and rhythmically. You didn't notice, but yours followed.

Neither of you knew how long you sat like that, but after a while Casey asked, "Am I holding you too tight?"

You shook your head, snaking your arms around her waist. "No. Please don't let go."

"Never," she whispered, her breath hot on your cheek.

[little-diable]

Mine to own, mine to hold - Professor Aaron Hotchner (Profiling 101 Series, Part 7/?)

Chapter seven, here we go! Thank y'all for the love on the past chapters! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader enrolls in professor Hotchner's class "Profiling 101", a man she has always looked up to, a man who treats her like an asshole from day one. Will her need for academic validation manage to push the two closer together? Will her bright mind push her into the world of Aaron Hotchner and the BAU team? Will he manage to keep his distance before the world he tries to protect her from can get its grasp on her?

Warnings: 18+, some angst, some mild smut, thighriding, talks about stalking, short mention of a panic attack

Pairing: Professor!Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader (2k words)

Profiling 101 Series Masterlist

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Eight

“We treat this case like any other.” Aaron’s voice echoed through the room, gaze set on his team, flickering to (y/n)’s uneasy eyes at any given chance. The second she had told him about the pictures, and the texts, he had called Penelope, asking her to contact the others. There was no time to lose, set on finding whoever was stalking (y/n), following her around like a shadow that blended in with the night whenever she tried to look for it. 

“Hotch, this clearly also goes against you, I mean, c’mon, you’re on these pictures too.” Derek’s words left (y/n) shuddering, fingers tightening their grip on the sleeves of her sweater, hoping that the fabric would swallow her whole. Tears had instantly begun to pour down her cheeks as she had opened up to Aaron, apologising for keeping this from him, forcing the walls she had oh so carefully begun to build to collapse. 

“Forty percent of stalking victims are stalked by a former partner, forty-two by an acquaintance, and more than twice as many victims are stalked with technology than without. Seeing (y/n) with Hotch could have been the trigger that forced our unsub to escalate.” Spencer kept rambling, statistics (y/n) couldn’t focus on, once again forcing her mind to race, trying to figure out who was behind this all. 

“Hey,” Aaron whispered the word, hand placed on (y/n)’s trembling knee. Her glassy eyes found his dark and stormy ones, trying to appear strong in front of the team, not wanting to come across as scared, petrified even, and yet she clearly failed to do so. “We’ll find them, I promise.”

“It could be anybody, a person you smiled at when picking up a coffee, another student you paid a few seconds of attention to, this isn’t your fault, (y/n).” Dave shot her a warm smile, trying to soothe her pain with his somewhat comforting words. “Is there anybody you can think of, somebody you noticed these past weeks?”

“No, I keep on thinking about this since I got the first text, but there’s nobody. I didn’t really mingle with other students or professors, and besides studying at home, I’ve spent time here with you guys.” 

“I tried to trace the texts, but the unsub know what they’re doing, so far I could only narrow the radius down to the city.” Penelope’s voice dripped with annoyance, annoyance directed at whoever was tormenting her friend, annoyance directed at the unsub that tried to play games with (y/n). 

“Garcia, I want you to look at the security cameras on campus, follow (y/n) around, and try to find somebody suspicious, Reid and JJ will help you. Dave, Morgan and Prentiss, I want you to check out the cameras near (y/n)’s apartment, let’s try and follow whoever dropped off the box. (Y/n), a word in my office please.” Aaron was the first to rise from his seat, opening the door for (y/n) with a warm smile thrown her way, hand placed on the small of her back. No words were spoken between the two as they walked back to Aaron’s office, but while (y/n) was still shaken up, she couldn’t help but relax into the comforting touch, feeling safe enough to take a deep breath. 

“I want you to stay with me till we know who the unsub is, you’re no longer safe at your apartment.” She stared at him with wide eyes, trying to bite down the protest wanting to leave her. If there was one thing (y/n) didn’t want to do, it was give in and hide, not when the unsub felt as if they had the upper hand in this game, a game they’d eventually lose. 

“I won’t give in, I don’t want them to feel as if they won. And if they see me living with you, things would only escalate further. Also, I won’t be the reason for Jack to feel unsafe in his own home.” Even though she hadn’t crossed paths with Aaron’s son yet, she knew all about him, intently listening to the stories Aaron shared with her every now and then. 

“I won’t leave you alone, not if I can protect you. Jack will stay with Jessica, it won’t take us long to catch the unsub, that much I can promise. I won’t take no for an answer, (y/n).”

……

Ever since (y/n) had stepped into the lecture hall, she had felt uneasy, unable to concentrate on anything but the people surrounding her. Her eyes couldn’t stop wandering, trying to memorise every face, wondering if one of them could be her stalker. 

She tried to keep her eyes from finding Aaron’s, not daring to give into the pull she felt, should their unsub be close. If she couldn’t stay at her own apartment, she at least didn’t want to pose a threat to her fellow students.

As her eyes kept wandering she momentarily met a pair of familiar ones, allowing her racing heartbeat to slow for a few moments, shooting Spencer a small smile. Even though (y/n) felt bad that Spencer had to follow her around on campus, the one who could blend in all too easily with the other students, she felt awfully safe with him and Aaron near, grateful for their support.

Her eyes kept moving, not listening to the talk one of the students had prepared about their research project, unable to focus on anything with this kind of uneasiness sticking to her. With her breath hitched in her chest, she found the eyes of Josh Lorey, the guy who tried to belittle (y/n)’s every idea, making fun of her whenever she spoke up.

Could it be him? Could it be the guy who talked her down? Could it be the guy who left her feeling awful about every theory she spoke out loud? 

He shot her a smirk (y/n) couldn’t read, torn between too many emotions. The room began to close in on her, vision growing blurry, heart picking up its racing beat once again. Fuck, she couldn’t breathe, struggled to hold on as panic began to take over her body. Without being able to control her movements, she hastily rose to her feet, clinging to her bag as she made her way out of the room, body shaking, eyes glassy. 

A sob rippled through (y/n) once she made it out into the hallway, having to press her palm against the nearest wall to stabilise herself. Shaky breaths were inhaled into her aching lungs, trying to get herself under control, all too used to these moments, to these attacks she had struggled with for years now. 

“(Y/n), look at me, hey.” Spencer’s soft voice managed to calm her tense body, eyes struggling to focus on his concerned expression, having to blink away her tears. It took her a few moments to get her breathing under control, choking on a raspy “Sorry” rolling off her tongue. “There’s nothing you have to apologise for, (y/n). Do you know what set it off?”

“There is,” another heavy breath was forced into her lungs, “There is this guy, Josh Lorey. He isn’t the friendliest to me, what if it’s him?”

“Let me text Penelope, if there’s something off about him, she’ll be the first to figure it out.” (Y/n) kept on counting her breaths as she watched Spencer text Penelope, grateful for her friend’s support. “Alright, should I drive you back to the BAU? Hotch has two meetings after class, and I doubt he’d want you to spend any more time here than needed.”

……

With her eyes set on the ceiling, (y/n) kept shuffling around on Aaron’s couch, waiting for him to make it back to the BAU after his meetings. Ever since her panic attack she had felt restless, not able to concentrate, not able to help the others comb through the security feed, eyes glassy, mind hazy. 

Though the second she heard Aaron approach, already used to the sound of his steps, she rose from her position, meeting Aaron halfway. The door to his office fell shut, arms finding their way around (y/n)’s middle to keep her close. She deeply inhaled his familiar scent, eyes squeezed shut to cling to the wave of safety Aaron’s closeness washed through her.

“Are you okay? I was worried after you left.” A hum left (y/n), not wanting to let go just yet. Aaron kept holding onto her as he guided them towards the couch she had been sitting on, plopping down on it with (y/n) placed in his lap. “Talk to me, sweetheart, I’m here.”

“I hate feeling like this, I want to be strong, I want to help you with finding the undsub. But I feel so anxious, I hate not knowing who is watching me.” He cupped her warm cheeks, grateful for the closed blinds that gave the two some kind of privacy. Their lips met in a slow kiss, drawing a soft moan from (y/n) as her arms found their way around Aaron’s neck.

“We will always protect you, I always will. I promise you.” Aaron murmured the words against her lips before he pulled her in for another heated kiss. She tried to shuffle even closer, groaning against his lips at the friction her movements caused, leaving her thighs trembling. Without breaking the kiss once, Aaron repositioned her, making (y/n) straddle one thigh, hands placed on her waist to guide her movements. 

“Fuck, just like that, baby.” Aaron’s raspy voice left her shuddering, head rolling back as she kept grinding against his thigh, feeling her bundle pulse, soaking through her panties. Curses rolled off her tongue all too softly, not wanting to attract any attention, hoping that the team couldn’t pick up on what the two of them were currently doing. Aaron kissed his way down her throat, holding onto (y/n) with a possessive grip, leaving marks he’d kiss later that night. 

“Oh god, Aaron, I’m so close already.” His proud chuckles left her smiling, teeth nibbling on her lower lip. Just the sight of him, cheeks slightly flushed, pupils dilated, could push her over the edge, trembling on his thigh as he pulled her even closer. With his name rolling off her tongue, (y/n) came on his thigh, forehead pressed against his. “Fuck, thank you for the distraction.” 

Another hearty laugh left Aaron, pressing one last kiss to her slightly swollen lips before he rose from the couch, grateful for the dark colour of his trousers. She kept catching her breath as she watched him move around, picking up a few papers, “I’ll drop these off at Strauss’ office, and then we can go home.”

Even though she wouldn’t admit it just yet, she loved the use of “home”, imagining a life with Aaron together, waking next to him every single day. Just the mere thought of it left her heart racing in excitement, praying that whoever was listening would pick up on her wishes.

“Alright, I’ll wait downstairs. Car keys?” He tossed them her way, sending her another quick smile before he left his office. Within moments she had shouldered her bag, making her way down the stairs leading up to Aaron’s office to say goodbye to the others. 

“Do you want me to accompany you till the bossman is back?” Derek rose from his seat, ready to reach for his jacket, but the shake of (y/n)’s head stopped him, leaning back against his desk. 

“It’s alright, he won’t be long, and there are cameras everywhere, so Penelope would be the first to notice something sketchy.” She shot Derek a smile and murmured a quiet “I’ll see you tomorrow” before she made her way to the elevator. Seconds kept passing by as she rode the elevator downstairs, eyes focused on her phone to read through the notes that had been uploaded to her study drive, catching up on the things she had missed due to her panic attack. 

Her feet carried her towards the parking lot, unlocking the dark SUV she had rode in too many times to count by now. Only as she plopped down on her seat did (y/n) lift her eyes, freezing as an unfamiliar voice spoke up behind her, making goosebumps rise on her skin. 

“Good evening, (y/n). It’s finally time for the last round of our game.” 

[green-alm0nd]

[Rex x Jedi!gn!reader]: Let me help you

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Summary:

Jedi can't show feelings, yet your insecurities have not been really noticed by anyone. Except for the Captain of the 501st battalion, who happens to have feelings for you and can't stand seeing you hurt yourself.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: ANGST, MENTIONS OF SELF-HARM IN THE FORM OF SCRATCHING, AND CUTTING, lots of feelings, insecure reader, comfort, slightly suggestive in some parts, sad Rex hours, protective Rex, drinking, fluff, mild mentions of a panic attack, angst with a happy ending. Kinda self indulgent but that's not the point. Not proofread.

Enjoy!

A/N: I'm not really happy how this came out, but it's not the worst fanfic I've ever made. In my mind, it was supposed to go one way and when I wrote it it took a whole other turn. I'll probably edit it at some point.

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"'Ner Nau', a Mando'a word that means 'light', or, 'My light'."

----

Rain fell over Coruscant, coating the planet in a translucent veil. The city lights and the sounds of speeders flying everywhere made it look more melancholic than it actually was.

79's was as busy as ever, having won a fight against a bunch of Separatists droids had the 501st bursting with confidence. Which was, of course, understandable. Twi'lek waiters and waitresses served drinks to the clones, some already drunk, others with slightly more tolerance. They danced, laughed and enjoyed since the night was still young.

There stood Rex, proud of his men, yet embarrassed at the sight of his squad acting like a bunch of kids celebrating their birthday. The clone took a sip of his drink, and awkwardly looked away whenever he received some sort of whistle or sway of hips coming from any of the waiters or waitresses. He shifted his weight from one leg to the other, uncomfortably staring at the doors of the bar.

You came through the door, looking exhausted. Rex's face immediately brightened, and he left his drink aside, walking towards you.

"General." He greeted, with a small nod. You were looking extremely attractive, despite you were wearing the same Jedi robes as ever.

"Captain." You greeted back, with a small smile.

When Rex looked back at you, he couldn't help but notice the bags under your eyes, and the overall exhaustion that you seemed to show: slumped shoulders instead of a confident pose, tired eyes instead of ones filled with determination, no one needed to be an expert to know something was up.

"If I knew you'd be this exhausted, I wouldn't have invited you here in the first place."

You shrugged it off.

"Oh, don't worry about it. Today's battle was tiring for all of us, except for you lot. I've never seen a squad with such energy." You remarked, smiling fondly at the celebration they were having.

Rex let out a light chuckle.

"Yeah, my boys are like this every time."

He motioned at the bartender.

"Want me to get you a drink?" He asked.

You shook your head no.

"Nah, I'm fine." You replied, still taking a sit next to his. Your hands rested on your lap, looking around the clone bar.

You had to admit, Rex looked extremely attractive under the lights of 79's. His armour hugged his body perfectly, and his face didn't have that frown he held in battle. His face was relaxed, and calm. While you were slightly, not to say clearly, tense.

Red, green, and blue shone repeatedly, in an almost overwhelming dance. Music blasted off the loudspeakers, someone with sensitive ears might've found it annoyingly loud.

Some clones approached you, and you kept a light conversation with them. Rex watched from the side, taking small sips from his drink as he stared in awe. Even though you looked exhausted and slightly uncomfortable, you made sure to talk to people. He admired how strong-willed you were.

Until, he saw them, that is.

He stopped for a moment, his smile instantly dropping and his brow furrowing. Your Jedi robes lifted up at the exact moment where he could see some spots on your hands and wrists that were in a lighter, pinkish colour.

He frowned, weirded out by the small spots on your hands. He knew what they were, it wasn't the first time he had seen them. He had a few scars on his own, war always left a scar. But yours...yours were different.

Yours were cuts. Yours were scratches. And they weren't old. They were clean cuts, and that scared Rex.

He stared at you, at your smile, which no longer seemed like the smile that made his heart beat faster. It was fake, false, so...not you.

His head started making up questions. How did you get them? Did someone do something to you? Did you inflict them upon yourself? Had this happened before?

Had he been so dumb he hadn't realised?

He didn't want to make you uncomfortable while you spoke to the other clones, so he waited. The taste of spotchka left bitter in his mouth, no longer craving for a drink. Eventually, you and Rex were alone again, and you felt his uneasiness through the Force. His signature was tense, and a tad agitated. He spun the glass with his hand, the drink following the lazy yet tense movement. His lip quivered slightly before he started talking.

"What are those?" He asked, his dark brown eyes piercing into yours.

You didn't have to ask what he meant, based on his rigid and stiff pose, his eyes never leaving yours. You tried puffing your chest, trying to look more confident as a defence mechanism.

"War brings scars. As a Captain, you should perfectly know what it means." You excused, heart beating in anticipation.

Rex shook his head. He gripped his glass cup. How could he have been so oblivious?

"I've met many clones, people and Jedi in my time. But none lied as bad as you are lying right now."

Your view shifted to the ground. You expected disappointment, anger, and discontentment. Yet, Rex's voice remained unreadable.

"What are those, Ner Nau?" He asked, no hint of anger nor disappointment. Just worry.

Your mind went into overdrive. Your gaze started darting around. Had others noticed? Were the other clones looking at you? Did they know? You felt yourself dissociating from reality, hiding your consciousness in the darkest corner of your mind. Your breathing became more erratic, and you found yourself unable to breathe. It was pathetic, you felt pathetic. A Jedi is supposed to keep their cool, to learn to control their emotions. However, Rex had always been able to break the glass that separated control from feeling. If all clones saw you like this, it could be bad. It was already bad enough that Rex was seeing you in a weak moment, you had to get out of there immediately.

Rex's words felt like a broken, dusty record. You couldn't make up the words, he seemed genuinely confused and concerned. Your senses came back, but your panic attack didn't leave as fast as it came. You felt dizzy from hyperventilating, and you needed some fresh air.

"I have to go." You said, before getting up and leaving Rex alone.

....

Rex was left alone. He wondered how you'd get back to the Jedi Temple with the pouring rain, though that wasn't even the main problem. He had seen something that filled his body with dread. And the person he felt the closest to refused to open up to him, and it saddened the clone.

He thought about it, wanting to chase after you. However, everything had happened too quickly, and the last thing he wanted was to make you more uncomfortable than you already were.

He took a sip of his drink before heading back to his headquarters, thinking about the recent events that had taken place, and if his question had ruined the friendship he valued the most.

....

Rain continued to fall on Coruscant, clouds covering the stars that orbited around the planet. The Jedi Temple was unusually quiet, the sounds of steps being the only thing that kept the sanction from complete silence.

You were in your barracks, preparing a few things as you were going on a mission. You felt truly embarrassed for what had happened the previous night, only making a fool out of yourself and Rex even more worried than he already was. You made sure to cover your arms well, though it had been hard to hide the scratches on your knuckles, fueled by the nervousness and the need for some sort of release.

You took a deep breath, and exited your barracks.

Jedi were walking around the temple, each focused on their own task. Most of the time, Jedi were egocentric, only focusing on controlling their emotions and not helping those who mentally screamed for help. It bothered you, yet you focused on other stuff, since thoughts like those could lead you to the Dark Side. Then again, at this point it felt better to let emotions release and not just bottle them up like everyone around you did.

On the way to the hangar, you felt a hand pull you to a room. It grabbed you from your sleeve, and slid you towards the right of the corridor.

Rex.

The door automatically closed, and you found yourself alone in the room with the clone you loved the most. He had left his helmet on a small table on the side of the room. His expression remained stoic, yet he seemed worried.

"Tell me. There's no one here. You can trust me, I won't tell the Council, I won't tell anyone." He said, almost desperately.

You were taken aback by his sudden behaviour, how this strong-willed clone Captain looked so worried and concerned for you.

"I know what those are. I've seen them before; why didn't you tell me? I could've- I could've done something."

You stared at him, trying to keep it together. You didn't want to break down in front of the person you loved the most.

"Rex, it's... complicated. It's a lot more deeper than you think." Your reply didn't seem to work on Rex, he felt guilty for not realising what you were going through.

The clone took your hands in his, butterflies erupting from your stomach at the mere touch. But that pleasant feeling in your stomach was quickly replaced by dread when Rex stopped in his tracks. He felt the slightly rough surface on your hands, scratches that could be quickly dismissed by saying it had been a loth-cat; scratches you had made yourself. Inflicted upon yourself.

He stared at you, a silent plea, waiting for the consent to see how far your pain went to.

You had nothing left to lose. After all, you already had the chance to lose his friendship. You looked away, letting him.

Rex carefully lifted up your sleeves. The clone braced himself for the worst, and slid your sleeves to your elbows. He felt as if all the air had been sucked out of his lungs by a punch. Clean, and somehow concise cuts rested on your skin.

You felt ashamed that you had left Rex see your arms in the first place. However, when you stared at him, he stared at you back, a pleading look in his eyes yet again. You knew he was trying to nonverbally ask for permission to touch your scars, and even though you risked your friendship even more, you allowed yourself to feel vulnerable.

His hands slowly touched one of the scars, slowly sliding down from your elbow to your wrist. His fingertips traced and rested on the bumps on your skin; some deeper, some not so deep, a constant reminder of the neverending pain you had to endure.

His eyes tried to search for yours.

"Ner Nau..." He whispered, caressing your scars. It wasn't painful, in any way, it was more of a temporary remedy that were his fingertips.

"You're wonderful. How could you even do something like this? Why didn't you ask for help? Why didn't you let me help you?" He asked, staring intently.

Your eyes widened, surprised at his question. You couldn't believe Rex's reaction. Yet there it was, no one else in that room, a worried friend trying to comfort the hurt.

"Asking for help doesn't make you weak." He assured, bringing his lips to your scars, trying to somehow ease the pain.

He kissed every single one of those small bumps, a silent support, and his acts, a comforting lull, making sure you felt loved.

"You matter. Don't do this to yourself."

That's when you finally broke.

Your eyes filled with tears, as you quietly sobbed. Rex slowly wrapped his arms around you, providing you with the comfort you needed at that moment.

"It's alright. I've got you now." He reassured.

And ever since that day, Rex became a lighthouse, a guiding spark that helped you out, that showed you were loved, and to show that the clone Captain loved you.

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Not very satisfied with this one but I'm also working on headcanons ideas that I like more.

Reblogs and shares are highly appreciated!

My requests are still open!

[serpentsillusion]

||Tiny, but mighty.||✨💪✨

How I would have imagined my MC handling the situation about being confronted by Victor Rookwood and Harlow when she was in hogsmeade for the first time with Sebastian. (Stranger Danger) 🚫🙅🏻‍♀️ maybe a little humorous, I hope. 😂

Mild language warning and potential PTSD trigger, physical violence ⚠️

*Sebastian and MC nervously enter the three broomsticks, sitting down at the bar talking with Sirona about the troll attack.*

Sirona: Trolls in hogsmeade? Hmmm something's not right...the only brutes we usually have to deal with are...

Victor Rookwood: *aggressively opens doors* (grunts)

Sirona:  hmph, how timely.. *walks around the bar counter*

Victor Rookwood: Was that Lodgok I saw leaving just now? Hmph, your clientel's not what it used to be. Sirona.

Sirona: Not to worry. Victor. Once the two of you leave, the caliber of my clientele will greatly improve.

Sebastian: *glaces over at MC sneakily, while she drinks her mug of butter beer*

Harlow: *takes his wand out assertively**giving mad stank face*

Sirona: I wouldn't do that if I were you. Theophilus.

Victor Rookwood: Come now. No need for theatrics... I'm only here for this one anyway. *Looks over and points to MC*

MC: *chugs down the rest of her butterbeer slamming it on the counter, burps and then cracks knuckles* *gets up slowly to face Rookwood and Harlow*

Sirona: My friend is enjoying a well-earned butterbeer.

Victor Rookwood: Only want a quick word.. *VERY quickly approaches MC*

MC, (panics): *Punches Victor Rookwood square in the face, causing him to fall backwards knocking him flat on the floor. Unconscious.*

MC: How's that for theatrics? *Sharply glaring at Harlow* You wanna come at me too?

Harlow: *backs away with his hands up* No thanks, I'm good.

Sirona: OMG

Sebastian,(to himself): holy shit! I think I'm in love.

*Harlow leaves the three broomsticks quickly as MC shakes out her right hand because that mf hurt.*

Sirona: Where did you learn how to do that?!😱

MC: M-my father...

Sebastian, (still in shock): HOLY CRAP MC! THAT WAS BRILLIANT!!! So.. when can I meet him? 💕

MC: What? 🤨

Sebastian: What? 😐

✨✨✨✨✨🐍✨✨✨✨✨✨

That scene in particular made me realize again how important it is to stay safe! And don't talk to strangers! 🤣 "Stay strapped or get clapped" said pooh.