#trying to catch a glimpse of a breakdown or something

[wernerherzogs]

.

[passengerprincessblog]

“Lewis, Next Door”~ pt 1 Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Warning: age gap, alcohol?

Summary: Coming home from university, Y/N expects a quiet reunion with family—until she finds herself face-to-face with the enigmatic Lewis Hamilton, her dad’s famous neighbor and friend. What starts as a dull evening soon turns unexpectedly electric when Lewis offers more than just small talk.

I hadn’t been home all semester. Between studying, late-night group projects, and the occasional breakdown, the past few months at uni had been… a lot. I’d pushed through, and even though I’d missed my parents, there was something about finishing this term that made me feel a little invincible. I was finally here, though, bags slung over my shoulder as I hugged my mom in the doorway and let my dad ruffle my hair in that way he always did.

Home sweet home.

After the greetings and settling in, I noticed someone else was around. Our neighbor, Lewis Hamilton, was back too. Usually, he was off racing, so it was a rare sight. I wasn’t someone who followed F1 religiously, but I knew Lewis was a big deal—and the whole “dad’s friend” thing only made it more surreal. The few times we’d run into each other, I’d been struck by how effortlessly confident he was. Attractive? Absolutely. Intimidating? Without a doubt. But, honestly, I’d never thought much beyond that. He was just Lewis, the neighbor.

That night, my dad was throwing a big party to celebrate his latest product launch. Fancy guests, fancy decorations, fancy everything—the whole nine yards. I’d barely unpacked, and here I was, getting ready to play dress-up and smile politely for a parade of strangers. My friends were out clubbing tonight, living it up, and I couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy. But I loved my dad, so here I was, hair styled, makeup on point, feeling like I’d stepped into someone else’s life for the night.

As the party got into full swing, I did my best to stay interested, though I kept glancing at my phone, imagining my friends dancing somewhere with loud music and neon lights. Instead, I was here, weaving through clusters of my dad’s colleagues. He was chatting with a group of important-looking men, so I took my chance and approached him, feeling like a little kid again as I asked, “Can I please just have one drink?”

He shot me a disapproving look. “No. You know the answer.”

“Fine,” I muttered, trying not to let my frustration show. I wandered around a bit, catching snippets of adult conversation that were all about business deals and tax write-offs. Glamorous.

Finally, I spotted a lonely champagne glass on a table. I glanced around, and with a little thrill of rebellion, I picked it up, taking a sip. It was cold and crisp, and even though I’d never been a huge fan of champagne, it felt like a tiny slice of freedom. A few more sips, and I was actually starting to relax.

That’s when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned, and there he was—Lewis, giving me a knowing smile.

“I see you like my drink?” he teased, eyes glinting with amusement.

My stomach dropped. Oh god, I’d taken his champagne? “Oh my god. I’m so sorry… I didn’t know… I can get you a new one if you want, I just—”

He chuckled, shaking his head. His laugh was low and warm, and something about it made me relax, just a bit. “Nah, I’m messing with you. It’s fine. I don’t even really drink anyways.” He grinned, flashing a glimpse of a gold grill that made him look both mischievous and effortless, a vibe that seemed distinctly Lewis.

I managed a shy nod, suddenly unsure of what to do with my hands. “Oh… good. Thanks.” I couldn’t believe I was so nervous. But he just kept looking at me, his gaze both curious and relaxed.

He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “You bored? I’m so bored. No offense to your dad, of course.”

I let out a laugh, surprised at how blunt he was. “It’s boring,” I admitted, feeling a little guilty, but somehow knowing he understood. He had this whole wild, glamorous life, and a party like this was probably as dull as watching paint dry for him.

“So, what? You’re back from uni, huh? That’s crazy. I remember when you were like, ten,” he says, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

I feel my cheeks heat up with a pang of embarrassment. Here I was, feeling all cool and grown up, and he still saw me as a kid. Great.

“Yep,” I reply, trying to keep my tone light but failing to hide the faint annoyance.

“Well, you’re better than me,” he shrugs. “I never finished school.” I glance at him, surprised he’s trying to keep this conversation going. Usually, we barely exchanged two words, and now, here we were, alone, talking like… friends? Something more? I didn’t know.

“Well… yeah, but you’re a millionaire,” I say, trying to sound casual, though there’s a little hint of playfulness in my voice. I’m not exactly flirting, but maybe a little. Just testing the waters.

He raises an eyebrow, smiling at me but seeming almost uncomfortable at the mention of his money. He shrugs again. “You’re not exactly struggling either,” he teases back.

Was… that a flirt? Or was I just imagining it? It’s just the way he said it, the way his gaze lingers a moment longer than it should. My pulse quickens, but I try to play it cool.

“No… not exactly,” I say, catching his hint and matching his tone. I glance around, making a point about how dull this party is. “Just right now.”

He chuckles, and there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Maybe next time, you come to one of my parties,” he says. It sounds more like a command than an invitation, like he’s decided I’ll be there.

I nod softly, trying to hide the thrill in my expression. He’s really inviting me? He seems amused, almost as if my reaction is endearing.

“Yeah, maybe,” I say with a slight shrug, finishing off the champagne. I feel his eyes on me, and when I look up, he’s studying me, like he’s considering something.

Then he breaks into a grin. “I could give you my number,” he says, casual but direct.

I raise an eyebrow, trying to mask the excitement bubbling up. “Oh?”

“So you can tell me next time you’re bored,” he adds, giving me a cheeky wink.

I feel my cheeks flush as I pull out my phone. He takes it from me, putting his number in. My hands are shaking just a bit when he hands it back.

“There,” he says with that familiar grin. “Now you’ll be set.”

“Cool. Thanks,” I say, somehow managing to keep my voice steady. Inside, though, I feel my heart racing.

He glances back at the party, then back at me, giving me one last wink. “I should probably go talk to your dad. See you around, Y/N.”

And then he’s gone, leaving me standing there, still holding the empty champagne glass, my mind spinning. His number. His number. A part of me feels like I’m floating.

———————————

Oo La La 🙈

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[jasmines-library]

batfam with the youngest robin (prob 12-13) who gets kidnapped by the joker during a mission and a year or so later the joker reveals the kid who is now brainwashed to be the joker jr

i was thinking like maybe how they’d react and maybe that they can rescue y/n and un-brainwash them and like comfort them and stuff

if not that’s fine i don’t mind!!! i can also like explain better if needed lol

The Stranger In The Mirror.

Note: You guys literally send in the best requests, I took inspo from Batman Beyond where this happens to Tim but I also added my own little twists as always.

Warnings: Torture (graphic), brainwashing, manipulation, drugging, breakdown basically hurt not comfort (poor reader is going through it all in this one.)

Word count: 2.5k

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

“Help! Somebody please!”

You heard the cry before you saw what was happening. A female voice begging desperately for help, pleading for mercy as the two men backed her against the wall of the alley. They stalked towards her menacingly and you could see the way her face contorted with a fear that gripped her so tight as she moved feebly in an attempt to get past the two men. But they were large and between them took up most of the alley so that it was nearly impossible for her to slip past, and even if she did they would be on her in a second. 

Using your grappling hook to secure a line on a nearby railing, you propelled yourself down from the rooftop. Before your feet hit the floor, you took the crooks out with a well placed blow that sent them crumpling to the ground like a sack of flour. Resheathing your hook, you turned to the woman. 

“Are you alright, Miss?”

She smiled, looking at you from under the brim of her hat with an all too familiar smile “Much better now you’re here.”

A brief flash of recognition crossed over your face, obscured by your mask as you realised who those brown eyes belonged to but you had no time to act on it before she hit you on the back of the head. Hard. With a manic laugh. 

“Night night, Birdy.”

~

When you awoke, you were laying on something cold. A piece of metal that you had been bound to by ropes that burned against your wrists and feet as you struggled to free yourself. The table was tilted at an angle that allowed you to squint against your throbbing head to take in your surroundings. The room you were in was well lit and seemed surprisingly sterile given the situation. Strange concoctions of colours that made you grimace hung on the walls and bubbled away in tubes on one of the many workbenches across the room. The tools made your stomach churn. But then you saw him. 

Perched all high and mighty in a chair opposite you the Joker had sprawled himself out across a chair, flashing you one of his sickening, signature grins. 

“Hiya, Birdy!” He stood with glee, making his way over to you with a spring in his step-almost like he was skipping. 

“Why the hell am I here, Joker?” You spat at him, baring your teeth. 

“Can’t a guy just hang out with his favourite vigilante?” He mused, turning away from you as he began organising things on the desk that you couldn’t see, you tugged in the restraints to try and catch a glimpse of them.

“Cut the crap.”

“You all really are no fun.” He rolled his eyes “Not to worry that’ll all change soon when I morph you into the perfect weapon. Me.”

“What?” 

“Well, what’s better than one of me? Two of me. And you little bird, know all the ways to destroy your pesky family.”

“I’m not going to tell you shit.”

He shrugged, turning back to you with a pair of jump leads in hand. “We’ll see.”

Walking towards you with a grin he attached them to the table before reaching towards the dial. You thrashed desperate to break free but the ropes securing you in place allowed no leeway for you to move. When his fingers brushed the dial and the voltage came flooding through the wires, you let out a blood curdling scream. The pain was everywhere as your body arched, twitched and writhed against the rope. It burned at your skin, drawing blood and forming blisters against your wrists and your ankles. When the current finally stopped and you fell slack against the restraints your diaphragm jerked and spluttered against each pain filled gasp. 

“Are you ready to talk now?”

~

They realised very quickly that you were missing. You hadn’t returned home after your patrol. They tried not to let the worry get the best of them, but this was Gotham. They waited, watching the seconds turn to minutes and minutes to hours, but there was no sign of you. You were gone. 

Everyone was on high alert. For three, agonising weeks they searched every inch of Gotham, using every possible connection they had but no one found any leads. Tim was growing frustrated, hacking into every database he could find as Bruce and the other boys scoured the city. But you were gone without a trace. That was until one tedious Wednesday morning, the batcave received an urgent call. 

~

Your head was fuzzy. Whatever the Joker had dozed you with this time was really taking a toll on you. 

Your head hung low resting against your chest as you breathed slowly, trying to push away the fuzziness in your brain. Your entire body had grown numb; now too used to the pain it had been put through, too weak to hold yourself up as you lay slack against the table and although all dosed up now you may not be able to feel anything, you would never be able to forget the endless torment he had put you through; that would forever be etched into your mind. 

The screams still seemed to ricochet off of the walls, burying themselves into each crack just to resurface once it went quiet. The feeling of your skin being torn apart still lingered, the pinch followed by the burn as the Joker slashed you with his weapons, screaming at you to tell him all that you knew about Batman. Of course, you refused at first. Oh how you were so brave trying to hold your tongue. But you couldn’t help the screams that ripped from your mouth and left your throat raw and soon when they layers of your mind had been peeled away by the cruel hallucinations he put you through with his serums and his words, you soon began to crack; your fragile body unable to take anymore of this torture. 

Your wrists had been burnt red raw; the trails of blood tracked down your arms and mixed with dirt and blood, showing where it had beaded down your forearms as you struggled. Burned with tears your anguish was clear amongst your struggle and you were pretty sure that you had at least three broken ribs and four missing fingernails. Maybe more. 

But you were growing to like the pain somewhat. Because it meant that you were still alive. It meant that your family was on your way…or… had they stopped looking for you. 

The Joker's cruel words rang through your hazy mind. He had told you about the video he had sent to them. How there was no response. They didn’t care. None of them did or you would have been home right now. He had injected you with something as he said it, but you swatted off the prick of the needle as though it were a pesky mosquito bite. 

“Soon,” He told you as the drug settled into the numbness of your body. “You will realise that I am helping you. That I am the only one that cares for you. Not Batman. Not any of those pesky Birds. Me.” he hovered in the doorway just before he left. “I’ll be back, Junior.” Junior.  He had stopped calling you by your name recently. 

And as much as you didn’t want to agree with the man who had put you and your family through so much…you were beginning to believe it. The Joker had dragged you away from a life cycle of patrol and ending crimes. He was giving you a place to stay when your family had so clearly given up on you. The Joker had confided so much in you in your time together that you felt like you almost knew him personally. And it had made you think that… he was misunderstood. Lonely. Much more similar to you than- 

No.

No. No. No. You shook the thoughts from your head. ‘They’re coming.’ you told yourself. ‘But…’

Your mind was fighting itself now, conflicted between what you knew and what you were being told. Fighting between your family and the man who stood constantly before you.  It fought until one side finally inched free and you realised something. 

The Joker. 

The Joker was right. He was helping you. 

When he returned to you that night, you greeted him with a dumb smile. He was  glad to see that his plan had worked. That he had broken you down enough to mould you into exactly what he wants. 

He grinned manically. He could now move onto phase two: training you to kill The Bat. This stage would be considerably easier. You already knew Batman’s weaknesses; you had admitted that during one of the electroshock sessions. He just had to convince you that Batman was the real enemy. The only thing left to do besides that was lure him over to you. Which should’ve been easy enough.

~

Tim shot up from his seat the moment your face flashed up on the screen. Somehow, someone had overridden the computer’s controls and he was now staring at your bloodied and beaten face lolling against a metal table. 

“Bruce!” Tim cried, scrambling to grab the attention of his father. 

Bruce had never moved faster across the cave than he did to reach Tim, his stomach dropping when he saw the screen, with him came the rest of his sons who too were alerted by the shout. 

Tim didn’t have to say anything else as they all gathered around to look queasily at the screen. You weren’t moving as the live stream played and this only worried your family more, but then an all too familiar green hair came into frame walking towards you menacingly. 

Bruce felt sick when he saw you flinch and try to squirm away from the Joker’s touch. 

“Smile for the camera.” He said, gripping your hair so that they could see your face. You blinked slowly permanent tears scarring your face amongst the blood and dirt. 

“I hope you’re watching Batsy. You’re about to see the end of your little bird.”

Dick, who bit his lip anxiously as he observed instinctively gripped Damians shoulders and tried to push him away as the Joker reached for the dial again. They saw your body react despite its weakened state; legs kicking and trying as you tried to scramble away. But Damian refused to leave, especially when his little sibling was in this state. It was horrific, but he couldn’t bring himself to tear his eyes away from the screen so he watched shell shocked. That was until your first scream cut through all of them and he turned away. Dick pulled him close as he screwed his eyes shut and Jason clenched his fists. 

“Tim.” Bruce ordered “Turn it off. Find a signal.”

“I’m trying.” He said “But…there is no signal and something is overriding the controls.”

Bruce ran his hands through his hair until after an agonising few minutes, your screams stopped. 

The Joker moved swiftly for a syringe which you didn’t even react to as he injected it into your system. Not good. 

“They’re not coming for you, birdy. They don’t care.” The Joker taunted before turning back towards the camera. With one manic laugh he gave a final bow and the signal fizzled out. 

The five of them stood there in complete silence. All silent. Most angry. Most heartbroken. 

“Suit up. We don’t stop until we find them.”

~

By the time the vigilantes arrived, you were ready. Poised on the top floor of Arkham’s abandoned asylum cafeteria. 

You had seen Batman arrive, sauntering furiously into the open room to where Joker had positioned himself. You had seen the other four sneak in too, wrapping themselves around the room and slinking throughout the asylum in search of you. 

Once Joker had riled up the Bat enough to send him on a chase to him around a loop of the asylum, you jumped down from the bannister with a conniving grin. 

“I know you’re all in here.” You laughed. And soon, one after the other your brothers appeared from the shadows gawping at the stark contrast of your appearance. You were skinnier and clearly injured from head to toe, but what struck them the most was the purple and green that the Joker had donned you in. 

“R…” Red hood warned as he stepped toward you. “We don’t wanna hurt you. We just want to take you home.”’

You raised your weapon. “Liar!”

“No kid. We wouldn’t do that to you. I promise.” Red Robin said.

“You left me. You didn’t come back for me and you left me here to rot!” You gritted your teeth.

“That’s not true. That’s the joker talking.” Damian.

“He is helping me! He is helping me reach my full potential- I am already so much more than I was before.”

You raised the pistol. It was loaded and you knew that it would do damage. That was the intention. And that's what you were going to do. You were going to take them out one by one until they get what they deserve-

“R…” Dick said as you raised the gun your finger inching towards the trigger. “You know us Little Wing. We’re your big brothers.”

You moved swiftly, dodging them as they moved closer in sync. One of them reached out to try and grab you, but you gripped his arm and threw him over your shoulder. The five of you tussled until everything paused when Batman burst back into the room. 

Your gun was pointed at him in an instant, locking in on him as you readied your stance and poised your finger on the trigger. no one said anything. No one even dared to breathe. Bruce just looked at you from behind his cowl as you grinned at him, sickeningly mirroring the villain who appeared behind him sending him keeling to the ground. You laughed. 

“Do it.” Joker urged. 

But you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Your hand trembled as you looked down at him pleading at you. He looked so…vulnerable. And your mind screamed at you. Wrongwrongwrong. You were torn again. This was Bruce…your father. Your family. Your enemy- 

“Do it, Junior.” He pressed. Your lip trembled. 

Do it. No. Do it-  You wanted to scream. 

“R.” Batman uttered one single letter.

You pulled the trigger. No one moved. A cry of pain rang out across the room. The Joker dropped to the floor.

You let out a sob and dropped to your knees realisation catching up on you. A pair of arms wrapped around you and pulled you to their chest as you completely broke down. 

“It’s okay Y/N. It’s okay. We’ve got you now.”

Everything hurt. Everything was so disgustingly wrong. You had tried to kill Bruce- you had given away your secrets… you let out an unholy sob.

“Shh.” Jason cooed. “It’s okay. You didn’t mean it.”

“Everyone is okay, Little wing.” Damian promised, taking your bloodied hand gently and tracing circles across the back of it. “We can fix this…”

Batfam Taglist:

@aestheticdaisies

@hell-o-kittys

@xxrougefangxx

[softpascalito]

Dulcissima I Marcus Acacius x Vestal!Reader I Chapter VII - Bona Dea

! This Fic contains major spoilers for Gladiator II ! Proceed with caution !

Spoiler-Free Summary: Set before and during Gladiator II. General Acacius finds himself entranced by a highly valued priestess of Rome – A Vestal Virgin. Both have taken vows that make sure their paths may never cross. Until they do.

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x Vestal Virgin Reader Rating: Explicit / MDNI Word count: 18k+ Tags: Secret Relationship, Vestal Virgins, Religious Guilt, Gladiator fights, Gladiator II compliant (more or less), Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Ancient Rome, Age Difference, Slow Burn (ish), Injury, Kissing, Historical Inaccuracy, (Attempted) Sexual Harassment, Smut, First Time, More tags to be added

AO3 // Series Masterlist // Masterlist // Fic Playlist

notes: ! last major spoiler warning for gladiator II below the cut !

i was supposed to upload this two days ago but silly me decided to have a mental breakdown instead. anyways, enjoy the new chapter ♡

bona dea - a goddess/her festival subligaculum - underwear

Chapter VII

The house is filled with the overpowering scent of strong wine and blooming flowers. Food and drink is being served, the atrium of the roman villa that belongs to the senior magistrate and his wife transformed into a place of worship as much as a place to celebrate.

The annual winter festival of Bona Dea, one of the most important (and as some argue, fun) nights of the year for the women of Rome. A tribute to the goddess that promises fertility along with chastity and healing, in return asking for her worshippers to hold the values of a good, roman wife. Her celebrations allow strong wine and sacrifices led by the Vestals and most importantly–ban all men from the villa and its grounds. Just laying eyes upon the holy celebration and the rites would be enough to condemn a man to a life of blindness.

It is so different from the worship you are used to from Vesta. She is quiet, a prayer whispered into the flames, the crackling noise of the wood, the only company for women who ask for safety and blessing on lonely nights.

You have barely been able to eat, despite the food seeming worthy of the gods. Bona Dea has always made you nervous, the prospect of trying to effortlessly fulfill the rituals that have been passed down from generations of women before you. But the prospect of meeting Acacius in mere hours had you trembling the moment you rose from your bed this morning. The hours seemed to tick by agonizingly slowly all day, making you wonder if the sun would ever set.

But it did. And with the early darkness of the winter night came the loss of appetite. And the later it becomes, the worse you feel. The comfortable anticipation starts mixing with an anxiety you’ve rarely felt before. Nothing can go wrong.

Of course, something goes wrong. When you reach the large front entrance of the atrium, the one you hoped to slip out of unnoticed after fulfilling your duties, is far too busy. The columns are decorated with skillfully woven vines, the entire room alight with candles and torches. A thin layer of smoke still hangs in the air from the rituals you conducted earlier, making the space feel even more sacred.

You settle on making another round, speaking some words here and there, disappearing into a crowd that has evidently already enjoyed the strong wine forbidden to them on other occasions. You catch a glimpse of Severa chatting animatedly with a few other women and duck away just in time to avoid attracting their attention.

It is already late, far later than you meant to leave. You know Acacius will be waiting. He has no rites to attend to tonight. Instead, he will be able to casually stroll out into his–

The gardens. Just like the other houses, there are spacious gardens attached to the villa you are currently trailing through. There has to be a way to slip out into that direction and get up Palatine Hill, which is rather close. Pretending to long for some fresh air, you step into the lush green, plants and trees imported from places where they do not wither in the winter. They lend themselves to your cause perfectly, barely allowing the guests inside to catch a glimpse of your white stola as you tread the small paths, the light around you becoming less and less. You slip past a few trees, fight your way through bushes–and are met with solid stone. Of course. A wall to keep out everyone who tries to sneak into the gardens. Or in your case, sneak out of them.

Your heart is pounding in your chest. Heading back inside, finding another way–it will take too long. He could be gone by then. With a small shake of your head, you step forward and let your hands run over the cold stone. The moon is hiding behind clouds, giving you essentially no light to work with. Still, you somehow manage to find two crevices to tuck your fingers into and pull yourself up. Panting slightly once you've heaved yourself up onto the stone wall, you look back for a brief moment, catching a glimpse of the lit up villa through the trees, listening to the voices and music drifting over to you.

Suddenly, it feels like you're looking down upon your whole life, like you are seeing yourself from the perspective of the gods you so worship. You try and think of something to hold you back, any excuse to just jump back into the gardens and have no one ever be the wiser about the ideas in your head. You think about the dishonor you may bring to the Vestals, to your family. To him. The punishment they would settle on. The whispers that would follow you, even after death.

You try and think of a good reason to stay. But not a thought comes to mind.

So, you jump down on the side that leads further down the path and up to the house with the lavender gardens, a path you do not wish to leave now that you’ve started walking it. Even if it leads straight down to hell.

***

Acacius sighs quietly as he gets up from the bench he sat down on what feels like hours ago. His mind is as restless as his body, his head spinning a different direction every time the wind carries the sound of what could be someone sneaking toward him through the night. The statue of Mars stands quietly next to him as he begins to pace back and forth, eventually expanding his rounds onto the stairs. Up. Down. Have you changed your mind? Back. Forth. An invisible tug of war with the thoughts racing through his head.

The small pavilion is lit by only a few candles, providing just enough light to see but not enough to shimmer too far through the trees. On Bona Dea, the whole town below is alight with the celebrations of the women. Song, Chatter and Light travelling through the night air, distractions that lay like a shroud around your meeting. A protection not unlike your veil. An indication that what lays below is not to be touched–an indication he so desperately longs to ignore.

It's not any sound that makes him turn his head. It is an instinct that he cannot name that has him turn towards the path below. And there you are. Looking almost like a ghost, dressed in a festive, white stola that swishes around your body as you hurry the last few steps, the top of your head crowned by the very veil he just saw in his mind. And he suddenly feels like he cannot wait a second longer.

Acacius meets you halfway up the stairs, his arms sliding around your waist like they belong there. Like a child resting its head in their mothers lap, like a soldier returning to his village after the war. Like the most natural homecoming, a nestling of a body against that of its lover.

“Acacius–” You whisper his name, a relief that it can finally fall from your lips again. “I’m sorry for making you wait.”

He hums quietly, his thumb rubbing gentle circles into your side. “I would wait all night for you, Dulcissima.” He cannot see the blush that spreads over your cheeks but he can hear it in the small breath that escapes you. “May I?”

Keeping one arm firm around your waist, he leads you up the stairs, towards Mars who stares into the distance. Unlike the stone eyes of the statue that are forced to stare at one point on the horizon for eternity, Acacius’s eyes never leave you. Even when he leans down to the small tray he brought along earlier, grabbing a glass filled with red wine and handing it to you, he keeps his focus on you. You barely get to whisper a thank you before a frown spreads over his face. “What happened to your dress?”

“I had to climb the garden wall,” you mutter sheepishly, embarrassed that your original plan has so clearly gone awry. He watches as you take a sip of the wine before you continue. “I will clean it in the morning, it is not worth speaking of.”

Acacius doesn't agree. It feels like another thing he's making you do. A visual representation of the way he is soiling you, tainting your beautiful white gown with reminiscents of the dirt and grime that stains his armour after returning from battle. “It is my turn for apologies. You should not have to–”

He is shut up by your lips coming to rest on his. He can taste the red wine he picked out for tonight and by the gods, he does not think there is anything he likes more. Picking out what you taste like for him.

There is a small tremor in your body, an insecurity that he immediately recognizes as inexperience. He sighs into the kiss at that, his taunt muscles finally relaxing as he blindly reaches behind himself, finding the stone bench and lowering both of you onto it, never breaking your kiss. Sweet. You just taste so sweet.

He allows you to dictate the pace, only pulling back when you do, your breath coming in short pants. His forehead rests against yours as he reaches down to take his own glass, nudging you until you toast him, glass against glass creating a light melody that fades as quickly as it has appeared. You both drink in silence, only the distant noises of the celebrations and those of the garden around you reaching your ears. 

“May I ask you something?” He hums, his voice low in his throat as he watches you raise your wine to your lips, the flames of the candles reflecting in the glass and liquid, sending smooth shadows over your face. At your nod, he continues. “Why did you ask to meet tonight? Bona Dea must mean a lot to you.”

You smile softly, though there is still a hint of nervousness present in your eyes. “The gods are busy looking down onto the feasts.” It is the unspoken part of your response that makes Acacius feel almost light-headed. If the goddesses eyes are truly on the feasts happening in the city, they are too busy to see you under the cover of darkness. One of his hands is still supporting your waist and he uses the other to set his glass down again before coming up to caress your ankle. A sliver of skin pokes out from under your stola, giving him a taste of what is waiting below the linen and silk that you are wrapped in. He feels you lean in, a hand gently coming to rest on his shoulder for support as he maneuvers you onto his left leg. In one smooth motion, Acacius runs his calloused hand past the hem of your stola and up your calf. You shiver, shifting slightly. “Acacius–”

It's somewhere between a whisper and a begging command. He forces himself to pause, his hand resting on your knee, the fabric of your dress bunched up around his forearm. “Do you want me to stop?” You shake your head silently. And he decides that maybe, he can push a bit further. “Is this why you wanted to meet?”

He can practically see you pause, your eyes flickering nervously back and forth. He may be completely wrong. It may not even have occurred to you–this. That you could do this. Because technically, you can’t.

“Maybe,” you whisper and he smiles at the subtle hint in your tone that sounds less like a maybe and more like a yes. And he'd be lying if he said he didn't have the same train of thought. He just didn't expect you to want him like this. Hell, he barely expected you to show up. Not with how much you are both risking.

“I’m sure you know–” you whisper as his hand travels further, slowly but surely inching up your thigh. “That Vestals are sworn to celibacy.”

He gives as gentle a squeeze as he can, watching with a smirk as you bite your lip, stopping yourself from letting out a noise. God, how he wants to hear that noise. How he wants all of Rome to hear the noise, wants to hear his name fall from your lips as he gives you the pleasure you've been denied your entire life.

“There are other ways,” he muses, his thumb trailing over the edge of what he assumes to be a subligaculum covering your most private area. “Other ways of pleasure.” He cocks an eyebrow at you, his hand gently rubbing over the soft skin of your inner thigh, not quite crossing the invisible threshold yet. “Dont tell me you have not discovered any of them?”

This time, he can watch as the blush spreads over your cheeks and down toward your throat. His gaze softens slightly. “You do not have to tell me, if you do not wish to.” Acacius sighs quietly, his eyes watchful, trying to gauge if he's gone too far. If he should retreat. “Does this feel good? We do not have to–” He can feel himself stumbling over his words. “I do not wish to force myself upon you. We do not have to do anything if you are not ready.”

“What if I'm never ready?” You whisper before you can stop yourself, resting your head against his shoulder and he tuts as he looks down at you.

“Then we will never do anything.”

“Go on.” It is a whispered plea. And Acacius gently obliges. He knows how to give commands that demand to be followed. But he also knows how to take them.

His fingers sneak under the delicate cloth that forms your underwear, his index finger finding the space between your legs already deliciously wet. He can feel himself getting hard at just this. The thought that merely sitting on his lap, kissing him, feeling his hands on your leg, is enough to arouse you to this point. He swipes his thick index fingers through your folds, making you clutch onto his shoulder and whimper in surprise. A low chuckle leaves his lips as he stills his hand again, not wanting to overstimulate you right away. He is keeping that trick up his sleeve for later.

“Your body does not know of your vows, dulcissima,” he rasps, his beard scratching against your skin as he places soft kisses against your neck. He feels you shiver and while he is sure some of it can be attributed to the excitement, he has a feeling the cold is also doing its part. He has a sudden urge to pick you up and carry you inside. If you truly want him to see you, to bare yourself before him–the first man to ever touch you like this–it cannot be on a cold stone bench.

“Let me take you inside.”

(art by art by Gökberk Kaya)

notes: okay, i know, i know, bad moment to stop. i promise the next chapter is in the works! ♡

[kelppsstuff]

Can you perhaps write an Adam x reader where the reader is extremely insecure about their looks and thinks they'll never be truly attractive and he comforts them after catching them in the middle of a breakdown ....... Thank you so much I love your work ♥️♥️

Divine

Summary: when your insecurities get the best of you Adam is there

F!Reader

Masterlist

Warnings: depression, depressive thoughts, making love, panic attack

Taglist: @fandomsbookclub @adamsfavoritesinner @leathesimp @mmichelleszn @sashaphantomhive @ladyninggs @sirenetheblogger @jawline-of-steel

You always were one to never feel confident in your own body. Even when you were alive. You were beyond surprised when the first man told you he wanted you, and even more surprised when you started dating.

You were a relatively high ranking angel, most people respected you. You were kind, compassionate, caring, and most of all, you were down to earth, or well heaven.

However even in your after life those thoughts followed you. Making you question everything about yourself.

The questions started small.

Were you too tall? Were you too short? Should you have long or short hair?

Then they began to form into something more.

Were you eat too much? Too less? Were your boobs big enough? Was your ass too big? What made you deserve Adam? Why are you even here?

You never told anyone about said thoughts. Heaven wasn’t a place of insecurity. Everyone was “hot” as saint peter like to put it, so no one really talked about their problems.

You tired hard to appear perfect. Always going the extra mile for something, for someone.

—

You walked around your home, glass of wine in your hand. You made a sudden stop however as you caught a glimpse of your reflection in one of the mirrors in your home.

You took another sip to try and stop the incoming thoughts, however it did no good.

Do you really think Adam wants you? It’s all a joke to him. You don’t deserve him, look at you.

Tears started to form in your eyes, tears of sadness filling eyes of rage.

You screamed out in frustration and threw the wine glass to the mirror. The glass shattered and red stained your white walls.

The thoughts stopped, finally a moment of peace, but it did not last. The came back stronger than before.

You grabbed one of your fire pokers and started to hit your glass cabinets. Throwing every thing you could find against the walls.

You didn’t find clarity though.

You slid down the walls while the tears slid down your face. “Just leave me alone!” You cried out to the empty room.

Now you’re throwing a fit? Get over yourself, god you’re pathetic.

You didn’t hear the door open, you couldn’t get out of your head. You didn’t hear footsteps crunching on the glass around you, it was blocked out by your crying.

You only focused back when Adam placed his arms around you and slightly shook the two of you.

“What’s the matter baby?” His voice was unusually soft, and it was delicate.

“I want the mirrors gone.” You begged to him. He pulled your head away from his chest and made you look up at him. “Then how would you see your beautiful face?”

You scoff out, “what a funny joke.” Your voice was bitter, and your throat was raw. The tears had finally stopped, but they still stained your face and your lashes were soaking.

“Funny of you to think I’m joking. Talk to me baby.” He noticed your insecurities to an extent. Adam wasn’t one to be too aware of mental struggles — even if he has some of his own — but he noticed things about you.

He would notice how you would always try and hide your stomach. How you would sometimes get lost in though while grabbing your thighs. He would notice how you never wanted him to go down on you even though you would blow him off. He would notice your long looks in the mirror and the distance face you had.

He would try and help. Telling how how hot he found you every time he saw you. He would always praise you. It wasn’t enough, he knew that but he wanted you to come to him about this first.

He didn’t want to upset you more with confrontation.

“I’m so ugly! I don’t know why you’re still with me! I’m an embarrassment for you. You’re too good for me.”

Adam brushed away your tears with his lips. Silently listening. This was your moment to get everything off your chest.

“I’m not smart, I’m not even that pretty.” You scoffed and looked away from Adam, “Lute would be a better partner than me.”

Adam pulled your face back to him. “You have no idea just how wrong you are. You are heaven itself. This place was hell until you.”

“You’re not an embarrassment, I’m so proud to have you on my arm. You’re so intelligent that you make god look stupid. Don’t even get me started on your beauty.”

“I love every part of you. I love every inch of skin you have. You’re so pretty baby and I love you so much it hurts that I can’t express how much I truly do. And I cannot wait until the day that I see you walking down that isle in white.”

You smiled at Adam, it would take time to fully believe him, but right now he made you happy. It had been a long time since the thoughts were gone and it was just the two of you.

“Thank you, Adam.”

Adam placed a kiss your lips and reluctantly backed away. “Don’t thank me baby. Here’s what I want you to do. I want you to go out have a spa day, go shopping, get all dolled up and when you get back I’ll have a surprise for you.”

You nodded your head and Adam kissed you all over your face leaving giggles to flea from your mouth. God you drive him crazy, in the best way.

—

You got your nails done, even gotten your hair styled, and you went to the mall to get new jewelry and a dress.

By the time you got home and walked brought the door all the glass and everything was cleaned up.

Another thing you noticed was the rose petals making a path to your room while music played out. The closer your got to the room the louder you heard the song.

You opened the door and there Adam stood. In a suit, maskless, while holding up a rose to you.

Adam could feel his heart stop. He looked you up and down and he knew that he would love you for the rest of his immortal life.

“You look…” and felt like he couldn’t breathe, you were simply, “divine.”

Red rushed to your cheeks as you walked closer to him, taking the rose. You wrapped your arms around his neck and looked around.

Candles were lit all over the room and you noticed he put a table in here that had your favorite food and wine. You looked to the left and noticed the bed was filled with rose petals just like the table.

The candles reflected against your skin and Adam knew that this was the moment, he couldn’t wait a second longer.

“Marry me.”

You snapped your head up to him, “what?”

Adam dropped your arms to his hands and he started to get onto hid knee. “I’ve lived in Heaven longer than I can remember, but it wasn’t Heaven until you. I have had two wives and yet it was you who taught me how to love.”

Adam pulled out a ring box from his jacket and opened revealing your dream ring. It was breathtaking.

“I was trapped in a marriage twice, and I don’t want you to think of this as a trap. When I ask you to marry me I’m asking for you to let me worship you. Let me wake up beside you every single day. Let me try and show just how deep my love for you goes, even though it’s impossible because I simply have too much of it to show. So I ask you. Will you marry me?”

A smile broke on your face and you dropped to you knees bringing him to a kiss. You put your hand to his cheek while he wrapped his arms around you.

You kissed all over his face saying yes a million times. Adam face was full of love and happiness as he placed the ring onto your finger.

You looked at him and placed your forehead against his, “never let me go.” You whispered.

“Never.” He promised.

He picked you up and carried you to the bed, kissing you along the way.

When he dropped you to the edge of the bed you immediately went to his belt but he pushed your hands away.

He dropped to his knees and pushed your back to the bed. “This night is all about you, honey.”

You were nervous yet excited.

He undid your heels, slightly rubbing your sore feet before his hands trailed up your thighs. “Lift your hips baby.”

You flushed pink, Adam said Vulgar things all the time but that would play a repeat in your head for days, hell eternity to come.

You did as he said and he pushed your dress up while pulling down your panties, stuffing them in his pockets.

He brought his lips to your own, and gave your heat a little kiss. Your little moan let him knew just how eager you truly are, along with the slickness along your folds.

He grabbed your legs and placed them on his shoulder, slightly angling your hips upwards.

He gave you a long lick, loving the taste of you. He wanted more, no needed more, he needed to taste you more.

He gave you more licks and suck before rubbing your clit while putting his tongue to use but pushing it past your folds and into your walls.

You could feel pressure in your stomach begging to be release, you were quite familiar of this feeling.

“Adam, I’m oh god, I’m going to cum.”

Adam paced quicken, desperate to have you gush on his tongue and gush you did. You poured onto him, crying out in pleasure. Adam didn’t let a single drop past him.

When you finally were finished riding out your high Adam climbed over you. A sight it was.

He ran a hand down his hair, his tie loose, your fluids over his face and a hungry look in his eyes. You made sure to engrave that memory in your head. You pushed off his suit jacket while he worked on his belt and shoes.

Adam ripped open your dress causing you to whine, “that was expensive!”

Adam started to kiss up your neck and to your ear, his low raspy voice right over it. “I’ll buy you ten more.” His breath blew over the curvature of your ear making your yearn for him.

You ripped open his shirt, buttons flying everywhere as you gave him begging eyes with a sweet voice to accompany it. “Please my love.”

“How can I refuse someone as pretty as you.”

You believe him, you felt pretty, you felt loved, you felt worshipped, you felt enough.

Adam pushed down his pants and lined himself up to your entrance. He slowly started to push into your slick walls, leaning down over you breathing heavy, matching yours.

When he finally bottomed out he had to take a moment to stop. You were so tight and you were squeezing him so nice.

In the very low of your stomach you could feel a tiny bulge.

He took you hand hand placed it over your lower stomach. “You feel me baby? You feel what you do to me? Only you could make me like this.”

“I love you Adam.” He placed a soft kiss on your soft lips, “not as much as I love you.”

Before you could deny it he thrusted up into you. Suddenly your ‘impossible’ turned into “don’t stop.”

“I won’t baby.”

He kept his word. He kept it slow and you didn’t ask for him to go faster. His thrust was hard and it his the exactly spot that he knew would make you tick.

He started to rub your clit, whispering praises in your ear and then suddenly you could feel yourself pulsing around him.

With you tightening Adam’s own release pushed deep into. Painting your walls white.

When you both came down from your highs he pulled out and made you two a bath.

While the two of you soak and nipped your ear and joke, “looks like I skipped dinner and went straight to dessert.” You giggled and splashed him.

The two of you went silent for a moment, just admiring the other. “I love you.” You both said.

Adam was truly happy.

You were truly happy.

Any problems that would happen you two would face them, together.

AHHHHH

Okay so let’s talk!

I’m so happy I wrote this! You have no idea, while writing this it felt like a piece of me healing.

If anyone is struggling I want you to know you’re not alone! There are others out there and I don’t mean that as a way to down play you, I mean that in a way they people understand and people will listen.

Don’t struggle alone there is always a door open and each and every person alive is beautiful and truly amazing and there is always someone something that loves you!

[soombee]

ଳ⋆｡˚𖦹 caught in the current of you — 01 , fish facts & a lil chemistry

warnings ! none

wordcount ; 573 / 0.5k words

‘thoughts’ -> “out loud”

7:30 am — chemistry

you didn’t expect to be particularly THIS nervous to present in today’s class, but then, your fine shyt, leehan, steps up to the front of the room and, all of a sudden, all your worries faded away just from the sight of his face

your heart beats raises, beating out of your chest as you remember last night’s venture through his twitter feed. he’s looking as fine as ever — in front of you, wearing a grey sweater with his tousled hair. he’s so effortlessly handsome.

‘thank god i decided to sit infront.’ you think to yourself, feeling blood flush your face

i mean, sure he’s in your chem lab, but you’re pretty sure he’s never really noticed you beyond the few shared glances when you’re stationed nearby each other and it’s killing you. but right now, standing at the front of the classroom, leehan looks so different — focused frown and tired eyes, presumably from the night before, trying to memorize the material he researched. he chose to present on the chemistry of ocean ecosystems and, judging by the look in his eyes, you can just tell that this isn’t just a topic to him

leehan starts to babble, giving the class a basic breakdown of marine life chemistry, but within seconds, he’s diving deeper, animatedly describing the ocean’s ecosystem as if it’s a living, breathing puzzle he’s trying to solve. his hands gestures excitedly when he talks about the bonds between organisms and how they rely on each other to thrive in the depths of the ocean. there’s something captivating in the way he speaks — like he’s not just presenting but inviting the whole class into his world. and slowly, you find yourself leaning forward, totally hooked, oh, on the presentation too i guess!

“and then there’s the corydoras catfish,” he says, smiling a little as he describes its contribution to the ocean system, “they’re very social fish so they’re barely alone!” the whole class might just hear a random fact, but you catch something else; a glimpse of leehan’s dedication to understanding even the smallest details about marine life, making your attraction towards him grow deeper

“i’m such a fool for u..” you confess under your breath, perchance wanting him to know how you felt about him

he dives into a ramble about coral reefs, the chemistry of their growth, and how they’re as fragile as they are beautiful. his face lights up with every word, not even glancing at his notes. it’s clear his passion isn’t just shallow—his dedication being your newfound obsession

by the time he wraps up, you’re practically just staring at him; not even in a “focused” way, you were ogling at him. this wasn’t just a class presentation; it was like getting to peek into a hidden part of his mind, one filled with excitement for something he loves. you can’t help but smile a little bigger, heart pounding in a way you didn’t see coming—even if he was fine shyt

for a brief second, leehan glances your way, as if noticing you’re there—you quickly drop your gaze, hoping he doesn’t catch the blush creeping onto your face

‘this is crazy,’ you think, ‘who tf falls for someone because of a lecture on fish!?’ but as soon as he sits down, you steal another glance, you’re definitely in too deep

“okay next up!” stupid chem professor distracting you from admiring fine shyt. 🫤

if u dont get the pineapple reference click here 🍍🍍🍍

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taglist (open) ! @saintriots @yourmyst4r @sftsohee @httpenhoon @alisonyus

[theemporium]

Could you maybe write something with Carlos and his wife who's shy and more quiet despite working for the social media team of Ferrari and when fans get a bit handsy Carlos steps in when he notices her discomfort?

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

You always preferred to stay behind the camera.

It had always been the case, even since you were a kid. You were shy, a little introverted. You didn’t like it at home when your parents tried to film a few home videos, you didn’t like it at school, you just didn’t really like it at all.

Your fascination came from being behind the camera. In being the one to capture all the moments around you so you could share it with the world. And with a growing love for motorsports ever since you were a young girl, it only made sense that your career and line of work would follow your dreams.

You joined the Scuderia Ferrari team the same year Carlos Sainz was signed on as their new driver, and it felt like fate that you two crossed paths.

It was difficult not to fall for the Spaniard. He lived true to his name and you were practically wrapped around his finger after you two first spoke. Carlos was sweet and kind and romantic, and despite having his undivided attention, you never felt like you were under a spotlight like you tended to feel with others.

Carlos always made you feel safe. He helped you grow, just as you did with him. And it was no surprise to anyone that after a few years of dating, Carlos finally put the ring on your finger.

The irony was never lost on you that despite your shy and reserved nature, the man you married ended up being one of the most photographed and sought out people in the world. He was constantly in front of a camera, and you were more than happy to be the one behind it. And all in all, fans were mostly respectful of your wishes to stay in the shadows.

But sometimes that wasn’t always the case.

Monza was a big race for the Ferrari team, one marked on the calendar and anticipated throughout the season. It was their home race. It was where the fans were the wildest, craziest, most passionate. And the boys were at the middle of it all, the hopes for a good race in front of their most loyal fans.

Carlos had one hand perched on your lower back as you made your way towards the paddock entrance. Both your paddock passes were in your hands as Carlos used his free hand to sign as many photos and caps and shirts as he could.

“Careful, mi amor,” Carlos murmured, his arm winding around your waist to keep you upright as more fans flooded your husband.

“You don’t need to rush,” you told him with a soft smile. “We still have another fifteen minutes before the meeting.”

He raised his brows. “Are you sure?”

“They are here for your, Carlos,” you assured him as you squeezed his hand, before letting him step away and give his full attention to the fans.

However, before you could step away from the crowd like you planned to do, an influx of more fans started pushing forwards to try and catch a glimpse of your husband. They were yelling and shoving and you started to feel hands all over you, and it made you want to crawl into yourself.

Your breathing quickened and your eyes darted around the group to try and find an escape, but it was useless. You tried to ignore the way your throat closed up, a sense of panic and dread bubbling inside of you as more people pushed and more hands touched you, and for a second you were concerned you were about to have a breakdown in front of everyone.

“AY! AY! MOVE AWAY, LET HER BREATHE!”

The crowd around you started to dissipate and soon enough the sight of your husband was no longer obstructed. Carlos quickly moved towards you, his hands cupping your face the second he was close enough.

“Mi amor,” he murmured breathlessly before he wound an arm around your shoulder protectively and began to guide you away from the crowds.

“Carlos,” you murmured as you sunk into his embrace. “The fans—”

“Can wait,” he finished for you. “I’ll go back later. You’re my priority.”

Your cheeks flushed. “I’m sorry.”

He paused, looking down at you with a frown on his face. “Do not apologise, amor,” he murmured with a shake of his head. “You’re my wife, you’re my world. Nothing will ever be important to me as you are.”

Your lips twitched. “Many years later and you still make me swoon, Mr Sainz.”

“I like to remind you why you said I do, Mrs Sainz,” he replied with a cheeky grin as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head before guiding you towards the Ferrari motorhome where you’d be safe from the onslaught of crowds.

.

[cherryredstars]

Here's some angst, Miguel reacting to reader who shaved off all their hair. Like, reader had a nervous breakdown one night and did it without thinking it through, and not has to deal with the fallout. Maybe reader just has mental health issues in general.

Anyways, love your writing!

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x gn!reader

Warnings: Reader is constantly crying, Angst (???), SFW

A/N: I finished writing this and then Tumblr decided to refresh the page while I was adding the tags so I had to rewrite it.

Unedited

You sob the second you look at yourself the next morning.

You don't know what you were expecting to see, but the sight of your shaved head would never be something you were prepared for. It's done horribly, splotchy due to your tear-blurred vision the night before. What used to be strands of your longer hair still lay in the sink and on the bathroom floor, and it makes you cry harder. You have to spend the next hour crying as you fix the mess on your head, cutting it even shorter to make it even. Even after that's done, you end up three hours late for work because every time you catch a glimpse of yourself in a reflective surface you begin to cry. It doesn't help that you've missed a meeting, and you know Miguel will be pissed the second you walk into his office to apologize. You'll have to swing yourself into the nearest bathroom stall after you meet with him if you miraculously don't end up sobbing in front of him.

When you compose yourself to finally get to the Spider Society, you just begin to wish you stayed at home. It seems that everyone in the overpopulated halls stops what they're doing to look at you, throwing astonished faces your way as they turn to follow you. If you could, you would throw your mask over your head, but you found that the material is too baggy now that you don't have the hair to fill it. You promised yourself you would cry over that after you send in your suit altercation request and go to the supermarket to buy enough chocolate and ice cream to eat your weight and more.

You're slightly grateful when you enter Miguel's office, his back turned to you and now shielded away from the eyes of the other spiderman variants. You hope it stays this way, but life is never on your side. Miguel turns slightly, lingering to look at his screens before throwing a glance at you over his shoulder once he's heard you enter. He moves to turn around again, before stiffening when he registers what he just saw. You fidget as you imagine the look on his face, brows scrunched as he tries to decipher if what he saw was an illusion from the harsh glow of his screens. He turns around quickly, his staring blatant and insecurity-inducing. You want to yell and scream at him for making it so obvious, but you've cried all your energy out today.

"Are you trying something new with your hair?"

You consider Miguel lucky that everything in his office is too heavy to pick up. Otherwise, you would be throwing everything in your vicinity at his face. Instead, your bottom lip quivers and a pained noise fumbles from your mouth. If you weren't having your hundredth breakdown of the day, you would laugh at the wide eyed look Miguel gives you.

"I-I didn't mean it in a bad way, I was just asking a question. I think it looks good!"

You cry harder at his words, shaking you head, "It's horrible!"

Miguel is at a loss of words, knowing that whether he agreed or disagreed with you, it would end in you crying even harder. He makes his way to you hesitantly, gently pulling you to his chest and his hand cradles the back of your head. The short hairs prickle against this skin, and he whispers reassuring words to you as you sob and sniffle into his chest.

"You're okay, it's all good now. Give it some time and it'll all grow back."

You stay glued to his chest until your sobs die down to weak sniffling. Miguel pulls away from you, giving you space as you wipe away the tears on your face with a shuddering breath. It takes a moment for your airways to clear up, breathing returning to normal and your inhales losing its noisy quality. Miguel seems to take pity on you today, allowing you to stay with him in his office as he works silently. You're grateful for it, not having to do anything or face the rest of the society any more than you have. Miguel doesn't even bring up the meeting you missed, but you're sure that once your psyche could handle it he'll tell you off. But for now, you get a short break from your rough life.

You'll have to find a way to thank him later.

[save-the-horse]

Was he that desperate? Yes. Donovan had been between bad relationships for so long and now he had the tiniest spark of a decent relationship. The depravity after was an accident. An older gentleman with a lovely tenor and hands that had wandered over his waist before. First dreaming of the mechanics hands on his hips, no barriers between them. Then more followed, night after night. Harlens hands slipping further down, disappearing further across his body before the dreams end. Forcing him awake with the low drawl of Harlens voice trailing out of his ears. “Just relax darlin’.”

A week had passed since brunch with his mother and the breakdown of his car. Donovan still saw him on Saturday classes, demoing each step with him and letting Harlen lead him through each motion. Heavy hands on his hips and thighs when they move into a lift low enough that he has to excuse himself half way through class and recompose his manners.

Late that night, only 8pm when he gives in. There was something he’d felt between them, Harlen willing to come to him in the middle of the night when his car broke down and meeting his mother the next day. A few unfortunate years have told him that the romantics weren’t open to him. Donovan had forgotten what it was like to be romanced and wooed, going off of what everyone else had wanted in him. Sex, body, form. A half hour of taking painstakingly angled photos later, he thinks he’s ready. Nothing too provocative, just a few shots from his thighs and a few glimpses of his ass.

[Harley: Loved having your hands on me again tonight.]

@murdersinthemaking

Harlen's barely been able to stop thinking about Donovan all week, almost obsessing over him and how sweet he is despite his best efforts not to.

Brunch had gone super well, at least he thinks so — Colette seemed to live him and they all had a pretty good time. A win is a win.

And dance classes have sprouted some interesting thoughts, mostly centred around Donovan's thighs and other contexts where he could touch them.

God, he's never been more embarrassed by his own mind before. Well, not recently.

The pictures catch Harlen very off-guard in the best way possible. He's been trying to work up the courage to ask Donovan out to dinner and he still wants to do that but holy shit. Apparently, now is not the time for romance just yet.

Harlen sends a picture back — his chest being the main thing, his shirt partly unbuttoned and pulled aside slightly by his nicer hand to display the top half of his pecs ,muscular and lightly hairy.

[Absolute sweetheart: Happy to hear it, baby.]

[frenziedfireworks]

hi! i was wondering if you could do something like draco having a sort of mental breakdown, and the reader comforting him? or maybe the reader catches draco trying to scrub or scratch his death eater mark off. ps, i love ur work 💗

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Summary : Your boyfriend is having a tough time and you're there to help.

CW : sad!Draco, Draco rubbing his skin raw, bit of a mental breakdown + comfort

You had been staying at Malfoy Manor quickly after you received an owl from your boyfriend. The tyrannical things his father was making him go through and the trauma he had to endure.. You had hoped to lighten it. You knew he had his bad days but he mostly preferred to keep it to himself. He had said “it’s easier for him to think” during those moments. You had more just accepted he still wasn’t used to affection and he had been terribly neglected. 

Today was one of his bad days. You had sauntered around the manor all day in hopes of catching a glimpse of him. Much to your dismay the only person you caught was Lucius. 

“Ah, Y/N. Out for a stroll? Do be careful. You never know what you will find around the manor these days. Definitely at this time of night.” Lucius said in a haughty tone as he looked you up and down. You simply nodded to the man and began to walk away. You had to see Draco.

–

Your hand went to knock on his bedroom door when you heard the muffled sobs. You knew he wouldn’t let you in until he had finished or would just act like nothing had happened. So despite better judgment and privacy for your boyfriend, you yanked the door open. 

Draco’s bloodshot eyes met yours before he turned away. You noticed his pulled sleeve and the scratches against the dark mark. He had been picking at it long enough to draw blood.

“Dray, sweetie.” You moved in and rubbed a hand lightly against his back. His body wracked with silent sobs as he slowly leaned into the touch. You took it as a good sign and wrapped your arm around him, pulling his form into you. “It’s going to be okay. I know things are hard but we are going to get through this. Together - remember?” You whispered to him and he took a few deep breaths. His head turned and you saw how puffy and red he was. Evidently crying for some time now.

“Do you really think it’ll be okay Y/N? After everything I’ve done? I am just becoming what I hated.” His words spat with disgust and his nails traveled down the scratches on his forearm. Your fingers pushed his hand away and you brought it up to your lips. You placed delicate smooches against the burnt skin, watching as his grey eyes widened.

“You have been pushed and pulled in every direction. You do what you must to stay alive. You are not them and never have been. You are a survivor.” You brush at his pale locks and lean in to press a soft kiss to his forehead. The blonde’s face melts and he automatically nuzzles into your neck. His grip around you is tight and his breath left goosebumps. 

“I love you. I’m sorry.” Draco’s voice was small, obviously still feeling the turmoil. You just hummed and held him in the embrace. You were glad he had finally allowed you to see him - the true him.

“I love you too. There is no need to apologize. I’m here for everything. Good or bad. You’re safe with me.” You could feel the tiny smile against your flesh that widened on Draco’s face. He may not have an easy life but he would always have you.

–

“Let’s clean you up and get you to bed.”

 You walked to the bathroom and grabbed a rag. You wetted it with warm water and made your way back, grasping at his mangled arm. Draco took a few deep breaths as you washed over the spot and then placed the towel against his face. Moving it against his porcelain skin you wiped away until he looked pleasantly relaxed. You placed a small kiss to his lips before placing back the cloth. Draco scooted up the bed and got in, waiting for you to join him. 

You got comfy beside him and sighed as you felt his head lean against your chest. Your fingers ran through his hair and his breathing began to slow.

“Goodnight Y/N. Thank you..”  

Your heart warmed at the soft and sweet tone, happy to bring some comfort to your dear boyfriend.

“Anytime honey. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

[androgynoussublimeangel]

So far all the ProhibitedWish content I've written Jake has either not been mentioned or already dead. But what if....human AU (cuz I guess technically it's the only AU where Jake being alive doesn't fuck the timeline too much) where essentially Jake keeps hearing things about Scarab or seeing glimpses of his relationship with Prismo before they officially "get-together" vs. Jake actually meeting the guy (including maybe a bonus where he just watches Scarab do something totally unhinged before he knows who he is then promptly is introduced to him) I would just love Jake pushing Prismo to pursue Scarab and then after finally meeting him and being like blindsided by what an maniac he actually is vs how Prismo has been describing him this whole time.

Spent my shift at work kind workshopping/brainstorming:

Set up in glimpses with Prismo and Jake regular meet-ups up to catch up. This is after Jake has already met Lady and they've had the Pups (not sure how old they're gonna be probably still kids at least). It begins with Prismo just complaining about the new auditor and what a hardass he is, Jake offering ways for Prismo to maybe befriend the guy, maybe help him to lighten up. Like inviting him to Prismos parties.

This is the cusps of change for their relationship where Prismo and Scarabs relationship becomes less outright hostile. Slowly Prismo begins actually following Jake's advice to try and befriend the other and does finally take the initiative to actually invited Scarab to the next party though he doubts he'll show up. But Scarab actually attends but spends the entire time alone in a corner before leaving early, before Prismo can interact with him all that much. Prismo reports all this to Jake who again encourages him to approach Scarab first, "maybe he's shy!". Except Scarab doesn't show at the next party, Prismo tries to pretend he isn't disappointed.

Prismo isn't that keen on the idea. Then not quite sure how I wanna make this work but Scarab has his breakdown leading to the fallout leading to his demotion, this is hot gossip in the company. Prismo ends up calling Jake after he attempts to speak to Scarab about it leading him accidentally poking some sore spots and leading to a fight. (Vaguely the idea is Scarab is on the roof he and Prismo kinda get into it ending with Scarab getting emotional and demanding Prismo leave him alone.) Prismo calls Jake as he smokes (smt he only does when he's extremely stressed and the guilt is eating him up) Jake whom encourages him to go back and talk to Scarab more.

Prismo does so and both he and Scarab are able to clear the air and force some awkward apologies out but they come to an understanding

Jake seeing this makes sure he can attend the party after that much to Prismo's delight. Usually if Jake can find time to make it to parties, (since this is after the kids are born he's not as much of a party animal anymore so his attendance is spotty) Prismo would be glued to his side. But Scarab actually shows up this time around. Jake waves Prismo off to allow him to spend time with his prickly coworker (Jake never sees Scarab his view always blocked by a guest or Prismo himself). When Jake is leaving he spots Prismo has made his way to the balcony having a quiet conversation with someone else, laughing and seemingly at ease so Jake leaves him be to head home for the night.

Prismo and Scarabs relationship vastly improves after this. Jake continues to give Prismo encouragements and maybe advice he himself had found useful when wooing his Lady (though he doesn't tell Prismo this, he figures his pal deserves a smooching partner too)

This is where it gets vague but thinkin Jake hearing stories about Scarab from Orbo and Cosmic Owl when they all maybe go out for drinks and about how crazy and harsh he is and this is where it begins, Jake gets it in his head that Scarab and Scrabby, that Prismo keeps telling him about, are two different people (Jakes got a wife, kids and a Finn to take care of cut him some slack for not remembering a faceless coworker) So Cosmic Owl and maybe also Orbo always have new stories for Jake about their borderline psychotic coworker. But in that same vein Prismo always has a new story about how cute his Scrabby is.

Finally Prismo wants to introduce Jake to Scarab after they've begun officially dating. I'm thinking Jake might own or co-own a gym with Jermaine (more like a rec center; they got classes for kids, stuff like self defense, ect) he sees some dudebro hitting on some smaller guy. When the bigger dude starts getting aggressive Jake is ready to step in only for the smaller guy to put the fear of God in the larger man with some choice words and a sharp smile. (I've got more to the scenario that might include Scarab mildly strangling the guy with weights but point is my mans is homicidal) Jake is equally impressed and frightened.

Oddly enough he and the little maniac end up leaving the gym at the same time, walking in the same direction and going to the same Cafe or park. And then Jake watched gobsmacked as the same little maniac walks right up to Prismo, who scoops him up to greet him affectionately while being scolded by an exasperated yet fond Scarab. Jake is floored. Prismo sees him and waves him over and Jake smiles and simply goes with it. Scarab seems decent enough if not mildly psychotic when pressed.

Prismo goes to the bathroom, leaving Scarab and Jake alone. Scarab pins Jake in place with a knowing gaze. They have a small interaction (not unfriendly but Jake is SWEATIN) Prismo comes back and asks what they're talking about and Scarab tells him about the man at the gym he dealt with. Prismo only responds with stars in his eyes, thoroughly enamored with Scarabs...meaner tendencies. Jake is mildly concerned for his friends taste in partners but simply glad to see him happy only watches the two weirdos with amusement.

The end lmao

(Perhaps I shall actually have time to write and polish this if my schoolwork would stop beating me with a stick)

[raibebe]

Dreamies in Hogwarts

Genre: fluff Words: 1595 Warnings: mentions of injury, mentions of bullying

A/N: I had this very sudden need to develop new characters and these are the outcome. And it may or may not have been to do with some post about Jeno being in a house he doesn't belong in.

So here I present (with the help of the lovely @flowerboykun who helped both with some of these bullet points and the little banners) my take on the Dreamies if they were in Hogwarts.

Comments and further questions on them are greatly appreciated. Also arguments about their houses. I very much appreciate other points of view.

Gryffindor (duh)

Muggleborn

Prefect

Golden boy of the house

Has only lost house points ONCE (and he will keep blaming it on Donghyuck until he dies)

If he doesn’t get 100% on a DADA exam, something is wrong

The first one to master his patronus spell by thinking of the day he first stepped into Diagon Alley

Yes, he too got spooked by the big lion he cast but that was before the animal let him pet his mane before disappearing

Had several mental breakdowns trying to choose his elective courses because he couldn’t just take all of them

Always has an open ear for his underclassman

Might just let it slide whenever he sees a first-year out of bed too late because he too would just get lost on the way from the library to their common room and suddenly it was after the curfew

Seeker of the Quidditch team

Refused the captain position multiple times because he thinks Jeno is more suited for it and honestly… He doesn’t need any more responsibilities

So oblivious to everyone who tries to hit on him… Like please help this guy

The amount of times he has been asked out on dates and he just thought it would be a friendly hangout and he brought more people is getting ridiculous

Ravenclaw

Pureblood

Do not underestimate him 

His skills in Charms are unmatched and he probably knows more hexes than all his classmates combined

His quick thinking probably saved Chenle’s life during a Quidditch match once when he fell off of his broom after taking a bludger to the side

Got thrown out of the library for shouting at Donghyuck and Chenle… permanently…

Makes them pay for it by getting his books… And some that he doesn’t actually need… Heavy ones…

Has a new love letter in his bag after every day… He has stopped reading them… 

And started folding them into little tiny cranes instead so he can charm them to fly right back to whoever wrote it… It’s his way of letting them down gently..?

Very fond of the merpeople once he saw them in the Slytherin common room

Also uses them as an excuse to accept Donhyuck’s invites to hang out because he of course just wants to catch a glimpse of them

Maybe beating Donghyuck in wizard chess is also a plus

Not a prefect but loves using the prefect bath (yes, he got Mark to tell him the password)

Found the Room of Requirement sometime during his fourth year which took on the space of a quiet and comfortable safe room for him to recharge

Whenever you cannot find him, he’s probably in there painting

Gryffindor

Halfblood

The sorting hat had a really hard time putting him in a house

Like it took a looong time but in the end, Jeno’s courage and drive got him sent to Gryffindor 

Captain of the Quidditch team

Plays as Chaser

Once accidentally broke one of the hoops because he threw the quaffle too hard and then there was the time when the Hufflepuff Keeper got a concussion…

Loves Care of Magical Creatures and no matter how ugly the creature is, he takes care of them with utmost respect and admiration 

Very fond of the Thestrals, especially the smaller foals and very upset about people being ignorant towards them just because they can’t see them

Wants to go into the forbidden forest so fucking badly to see what kind of creatures live there but he knows that he’ll get in so much trouble if he actually went in

So he just likes to hang out right at the edge of it in hopes to catch glimpses 

Once fell asleep in a Divination class that Jaemin talked him into taking with him

He thought it would be a lot more exciting and the calming scent of the tea put him right to sleep

Needless to say, he dropped the course for Arithmacy instead… Don’t ask how that’s going. 

Actually, he’s doing pretty well in the exams after staying up the whole night cramming, only making his way into bed because Mark found him and carried him upstairs after he passed out in the common room

Slytherin

Halfblood

Didn’t care for Quidditch much until he found out that Mark was playing for Gryffindor

Suddenly, he knew all the rules and had a brand new broom for the tryouts

Is he looking for the snitch or is he just annoying Mark the whole game? No one actually knows

Are you still rivals if it lasts longer than 4 years or are you just in love at this point?

Anyways

Always puts on a strong face but he’s fucking tired of stupid rich purebloods telling him that he doesn’t belong in “their” house

Whenever it just gets too much, he goes to the owlery because their sweet hooting always comforts him and his own eagle owl is always down for scritches and cuddles (and very menacing screeches whenever someone shows up to bother them) 

That is until one day, a small black cat also came to the owlery and curled up in his lap, purring when he started to pet it

And surprisingly, it was very easy to just complain to the little kitten about everything, it even gave disapproving meows at the correct timing

The most peculiar thing though… The cat doesn’t trigger his allergies. But it’s magic so that explains it. Right?

Maybe he should really ask Renjun whether or not there are any charms like that

Takes his divination class very seriously

No, I am kidding, he’s bullshitting himself through every essay… Successfully.

Slytherin

Pureblood

Fuck gender. Like seriously. Who invented this concept? Not them. So therefore it shouldn’t adhere to them.

Metamorphmagus and therefore they might have a new hair color every other day

Very fond of giving themself heterochromia  

Everyone thinks they’re just naturally very gifted in potions but they have worked their absolute ass off to be as good as they are since their grandma is a potion master and they have been brewing with her for as long as they could stir a cauldron 

Has a (very legal) business of selling love potions 

And always has an antidote on hand in case someone tries to spike Mark’s drink (again)

Could not care less about house points and rivalry 

Or Quidditch for that matter even though they show up for every game his friends play in

Might get distracted halfway through and play with cats beneath the bleachers

Friends with the kitchen elves and always praises them for their food

Very peaceful unless you fuck with their friends 

Someone is taking advantage of Mark’s or Jeno’s kindness? Some asshole is calling Donghyuck names again? A dude pushed past Renjun and made him spill his pumpkin juice all over his notes? They sure as hell will not enjoy their next meal when everything suddenly tastes like vomit

Will give them the antidote with a sickening smile on their face once they apologize because they’re just that nice of a person

Slytherin

Pureblood

Transfiguration prodigy

To everyone’s misfortune

He could use his gift to experiment and figure out new spells… But instead, he chooses to play elaborate pranks on his friends

They have stopped counting how many times Jisung’s quills have turned into bugs in the middle of the lecture

Figured out how to turn himself into an Animagus when he was 15

Nothing and nobody is safe from him once he turns into a sleek black cat

Has tea on literally everyone  

Cannot stand the pureblood fanatics and will not hesitate to curse them out very colorfully or turn their belongings into different bugs and animals whenever they’re being assholes to others who don’t fit their standards

Very obsessed and intense about Quidditch 

Do not ask him about his favorite team or he will not stop gushing about one of their chasers

The quickest of Slytherin’s chasers

Once got badly hit by a bludger and refused to be taken to the hospital wing because they were behind by quite a lot despite his arm definitely being broken

Yes, he had to be dragged off the field

Hufflepuff

Muggleborn

Baffled and in awe about everything around him

Still cannot believe that he’s able to do magic and make things LEVITATE

Also food just randomly appearing on the table??

Owls bringing his mail?? That’s crazy. Like how do owls know how to do that?

Really likes Herbology but is kind of freaked out by how many dangerous plants are out there

Please let him drop his potion class for his own safety

Claims that he followed the exact steps in the recipe but somehow managed to melt the bottom of his cauldron not once but twice and got the whole room evacuated because his concoction smelled so bad, a girl fainted

Despite Jaemin’s continuous efforts at teaching him, he seems to be a lost cause but at least he hasn’t exploded one of his potions in a long time

Almost failed the flying class because he was scared shitless after Chenle told him a bunch of nonsense about accidents that have never happened 

Very good friends with some of the portraits and therefore knows a lot of secret passages

The one who always ducks at Quidditch games if any players or balls are remotely in his vicinity

Also still gets spooked by the ghosts

Which only prompts them to scare him even more. Mostly by peeking their head through his food

[caseycabotsvu]

Casey Novak x (Student Intern) Reader x Alex Cabot (Are you coping?)

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾

Reader is a student law intern at the district attorney's office; her mentors are Casey and Alex. Reader struggles with her past after an abusive home life. When school should have been her safe place, instead she was assaulted. After leaving home and beginning law school she won an internship at the firm. Life starts looking up, but will y/n be able to cope with the pressure of her internship? (Reader struggles with Anxiety and Depression. TW: SH) - 2305 Words

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾

As usual, my day starts with my alarm blaring as I turn over switching it off, dragging myself out of bed, across the hallway into the bathroom. I undress getting into the shower letting the water trickle over my body waking me up for the day. Sometimes I miss the days when I would get in the shower and my arms would sting with the sensations caused the day previous, it was a bad way of coping and I knew that but it's the only way I knew. Pulling myself out of the shower, I repeated as always how proud I was of myself for being clean and finding other ways to cope, but with the pressure I had been under recently I was craving the release that my blade once brought me.

I loved the internship, and I knew I had earned it. Casey and Alex where my bosses and they treated me well, I knew they had high standards, and I was so scared to let them down or allow the powerful women to see any form of weakness in me. Pulling on my dress and heels I headed for the kitchen grabbing my coffee and bag before heading out the door. Today was a huge step, it was my first day in court, under the guidance of my mentors. Casey and Alex had been prepping me for weeks, going over the process and indulging my every anxiety in hopes of keeping me calm on the day. They had once been in my shoes and knew how stressful the first trial could be so they wanted me to be as prepared as possible, so I could start off on the right foot.

Stepping out into the street, the bustling of people sucked me in as I walked for my metro to work. I scanned my card at the gates striding onto the busy rush hour platform. Pushing onto the metro as it arrived I seated myself, looking up at those around me, catching a glimpse of someone I had not seen in a very long time. Feeling panic wash over me in a hot flush I fumbled around my bag trying to appear calm, my abuser, the guy from my school was sat on the same metro as me. I knew he could not hurt me, but I was still pulled back into the times he did, feeling dirty all over again. Whilst fumbling around my bag I came across my old purse, something I used to carry with me for relief in the moments I couldn't cope with my emotions. I felt so guilty knowing it was there but facing the world today was going to be hard, so I had it as a back up in case I needed it.

Getting to my stop the subway halted and I ran off the carriage as fast as I could hoping to make it straight to work without being near the guy. I never looked back as I dashed up the stairs and through into the foyer, towards my shared office with Casey and Alex, shoving the door open frantically I wasn't expecting Alex or Casey to be here already so when they looked over concerned I turned red, needing a second to compose myself. I could not let them see me breakdown.

Casey: "Good morning y/n. How are you, you look stressed?" She shot you a sympathetic smile, presuming you were worried about court. You didn't answer instead just looked at both women in shock.

Alex: "Earth to y/n? Are you okay?" Alex questioned, believing the same as Casey.

Y/n: "Yeah umm sorry I...yeah your right I'm just a bit nervous for today that's all, nothing else." I forced out a laugh trying to remain calm as they both gave you a reassuring look.

Casey: "Okay come sit and we can prepare the notes together before we go in. You can take control in this trial but if you need someone to take over at anytime we will."

Alex: "We aren't expecting you to be perfect sweetie, your only young and you have years ahead of you, all we ask is you try your best and take all the experience that comes okay." Alex reassured, trying to remove some pressure.

Y/n: "Thank you both, really I just want it to be over." You laughed composing yourself and trying to lighten the mood.

Casey: "You're going to be great sweetie trust me. We've seen what your capable of, your smart and collected and you're going to be such an amazing attorney."

With that you all sat and discussed the case and planned questions for the defendant. You began to calm down forgetting of your earlier panic, as work took over. All three of you headed for court, the corridor felt so long, as your anxiety ramped up. Walking into court there wasn't too many people which made it easier, but you were still on edge. Stepping to the stand you began the trial as instructed, cross examining the defendant. Getting into your flow, you began to feel less anxious, until the defendant's attorney decided to begin questioning you, his aggression showing. As he approaches, you backed away feeling intimidated as his eyes fixed on you.

I could feel my heart begin pounding as if I were a scared kid again waiting for him to hit me just as I was used to at home. The judge, stopped him before he got to close and reprimanded him for trying to psych out the new intern, accusing him of threatening behaviour. A small break was granted, allowing us to reconvene in 10 minutes. Alex waved me towards her and Casey, congratulating me on how well I had been doing, calling the man a pig for his disgusting behaviour towards a young woman. I smiled along, all whilst cursing myself internally, believing I wasn't good enough and would never be. They were just being nice, it's their job. But that wasn't true.

Alex decided to take over the trial as the evidence was already shaky, you believed this to be your fault, but it wasn't. There had been no forensics from the start so nothing scientific to back up the prosecution, a hard case to start with. As court ended we lost the case, unsurprising due to the insufficient evidence, but I couldn't help thinking it was my fault, I was the liability as always.

Rushing out of court I grabbed my bag running towards the toilets. I slammed the stall door grabbing my only coping mechanism from my bag. The blade I had been free from for years was back and I needed to feel the pain. Grabbing my blazer sleeve and rolling it up, seeing the faint scars left behind, I dug the blade into my arm feeling the wave of pain wash over me, I felt relieved, but guilty. I dragged to blade repeatedly over my skin creating long lines watching the blood bubble to the surface and run down my wrist. Realising I was now covered and how long I had been I quickly cleaned my arm up pulling my blazer sleeve back over them making sure they were hidden. I shoved the blade back into my bag and grabbing some tissues to dry my eyes. Looking in the mirror I could see my eyes bloodshot from crying and my hair messy. I fixed my hair and reapplied some makeup in attempt to cover up my upset. Walking back to the office, trying to appear as composed as I could, praying Alex and Casey had left for lunch, but they hadn't. They had been waiting for me to return. Giving them a sheepish look I walked in placing my bag down, the guilt consuming me. Alex approached, i didn't dare look up, backing away into the corner, my body scared of the repercussions, something that it was programmed to do over my childhood.

Alex realised you were scared and didn't approach any further, used to dealing with victims she could tell, as could Casey that something was wrong.

I sat in silence for a while before hearing Alex speak.

Alex: "Sweetie, its okay, you did incredibly well, for such a tough case. Even I couldn't have won that one."

Casey: "It was a tough case y/n, there was barely any evidence. Be proud of yourself for having the courage to stand tall in court today." She smiled at you, as tears began to fall down your cheeks. At this point both women looked concerned, never having seen your break. They came towards you quickly to console you, but you panicked scared they would hurt you. Dropping down into the corner covering your head, Casey could see the signs, she recognised her younger self in you, cursing herself for not noticing earlier. Covering your head in fear you braced yourself for the onslaught of abuse, but it never came. Casey kneeled instead, and Alex got on the floor, waiting for you to come round. After a while you looked up, tears staining your face. Casey reaching out a tissue for you to grab. Shuffling closer to them, Alex helped you up and onto the sofa, as they sat either side of you.

Casey: "That's it honey, take some deep breaths for me, you're okay, you're here and nobodies going to hurt you sweetheart."

Alex: "Were here for you sweetie, were not going anywhere, your safe with us." Sniffling I reached out for the tissues, in the moment not realising my sleeve had become stained with blood. Alex's brows furrowed shooting a concerned look to Casey as Casey nodded seeing it also. For a while silence hung in the office as you calmed down. Casey took her chance to check you over now.

Casey: "Honey, it's okay no need to be scared I know you've had a hard day, but I need to ask you something before I can let you leave." You nodded still unaware of the grave mistake you had made. "What happened to your sleeve love, there's blood soaking through it." Panicking you tried to get up, only to be pulled down by Alex who held you in her tight embrace.

Alex: "Its okay sweetie, we just want to make sure your safe. It's something we've both seen lots. Its understandable why you'd turn to this to cope."

Y/N: "I..I...I'm fine it's just been a stressful day, I saw my abuser on the metro this morning, I got intimidated by the prosecutor and on top of it all I fucked up the trial and we lost."

Casey: "Honey your clearly not fine, you didn't lose the trial it was never going to be won, that was impossible. And as for this morning, that prosecutor is a known bully. You don't deserve to carry the pain of other people's actions towards you, I've been there, and it can be unbearable feeling so alone. I promise you have us, and we'll be with you every step of the way."

Alex: "We've got you and you're never going to face judgement from either of us, we all have our ways of coping, we just want to keep you safe, okay? Can you let us see and clean you up, so they don't get infected sweetie?" Still in Alex's soft embrace you reached out your arm to Casey, allowing her to roll up you sleeve and see your arm littered with cuts. You hid your face into Alex feeling ashamed, she only held you tighter as you sobbed . Grabbing the first aid kit Casey cleaned up your arms with care, trying to be as gentle as she could, applying some antiseptic cream and plasters. She pulled your sleeve back down and pulled you into a hug. For once you felt safe and cared for, they held you as you sobbed, breaking your heart to them about your abusive household and the guy who assaulted you repeatedly throughout school. Alex and Casey listened intensely before speaking.

Alex: "Honey I was thinking, I'm not fully comfortable letting you go home alone today, I just want to make sure your okay tonight, would you like to come stay at Casey and I's appartement?" Casey nodded reassuring you it was okay, and you agreed, scared to be alone tonight. The two women held you up, practically carrying you out of the office taking your home. Once in the appartement they got you some pyjamas, which swamped your tiny frame, guiding you into the spare room to get some rest as they went back to the kitchen to prepare some dinner.

Alex: "How could anyone treat such a sweet girl so horribly. She was clearly vulnerable, and they all took advantage of her. That's no childhood for anyone."

Casey: "I know Alex it breaks my heart she faced those awful things; she doesn't deserve the pain she must face on a daily basis. How does she keep going, I would have crumbled." Casey began to cry, the reminder of her past becoming overwhelming. Alex pulled her into her embrace holding her girlfriend tight, peppering her forehead with kisses.

Alex: "I love you with all my heart Casey Novak, your the bravest person I know."

Casey: "I love you too, Alex Cabot."

[maccreadysbaby]

A Hundred Ways to Become a Wayne

batfamily + oc insert

tw: graphic(ish) death

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

NICO ALLEN NICO ALLEN NICO ALLEN NICO ALLEN

this chapter is so JAM PACKED you’ve got info hitting you from ALL angles about ALL three of the boys… eee

also… like… they really can’t catch a break can they

part twenty-six

❝ A GLIMPSE INTO THE FUTURE(S) ❞

MONDAY — AUGUST 17 — 5:12AM

BENTLEY HAD TO HELP NICO USE HIS INHALER FOUR TIMES. He didn’t stop crying until there seemed to be no tears left in his body.

Now, it was probably an hour later, and Asten still hadn’t returned. Nico had taken up residence on the bench under the awning, looking pretty much like a sad little wet cat. He hadn’t said a word since he’d calmed down — which was fine. Bentley didn’t blame him.

It had started to sprinkle again, which made the cold even colder. The streets were hazy from a thin fog that had rolled in, making it hard to see things that were far away, and Bentley was now twice as anxious about being able to spot oncoming Vigilantes. He wasn’t sure where Asten’s house was, but he was starting to get a little worried that he hadn’t come back yet.

The only sound besides the steady, soft breeze was the repetitive tap-tap-tap of Nico’s anxiously bouncing tennis shoe.

Bentley shifted where he stood with Asten’s black backpack hanging on his shoulders. He’d thought about sitting on the bench with Nico, but he didn’t really want his butt to be wet, so he took to standing against the inside of the bus stop instead. He wished he could do more. Why did hugs seem to be the only thing he was good for anymore?

Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap.

Bentley looked up into the streets beyond. What if something bad happened to Asten?

Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap.

Should they go in and see? Just to make sure? Surely Nico knew where Asten lived, right?

Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-

Bentley glanced over at Nico, whose incessant tapping was accelerating. The blonde was paying no mind to it, staring straight forward, stuck somewhere deep in his own thoughts.

Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-

“Nico?” Bentley questioned, glancing down at his leg. It was moving so fast it looked kind of like a blur. How was he doing that? The blonde didn’t hear him — only kept staring forward.

“Nico?” He tried again. The tapping was so fast that it didn’t even sound like tapping anymore, but one, long sound. Like a hummingbird beating its wings so quickly it sounded like vibrating. Bentley blinked once, twice, counted his fingers to make sure he was awake. He was awake, and Nico’s leg was moving at an ungodly speed.

“Nico!”

“Huh?” He questioned, turning toward Bentley. Something flashed — like literally flashed — in Nico’s eyes. Something yellow, streaking across his blue irises like lightning. There was yellow lightning in Nico’s eyes that left just as quickly as it came.

Bentley must’ve made a face, because Nico looked down at himself, searching for something off. “What? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” Bentley said a bit too quickly, glancing down the road.

“Why’d you look at me like that?” Nico questioned, looking up at Bentley. His eyes were just blue now — no lightning.

Bentley blinked, trying to gather his bearings. He didn’t just see that, did he? He had to have been, like, hallucinating or something. Right? 

“Like what?” He tried.

“Like there was a bug on my face,” Nico replied, wiping at his face with his hands. “Is there a bug on my face?”

Bentley opened his mouth to reply, but a different voice pierced the air. 

“Jesus! Mrs. Harrison hardly let me escape her house,”

Both Bentley and Nico turned, the latter rising from the bench on the immediate. Every hint of lingering emotion seemed to fade from Nico’s eyes when Asten approached, any hint of his earlier breakdown being skillfully wiped from his face. He turned it on, like a switch, changing from mental wreck to typical Nico in a blink. Bentley wasn’t sure why, nor was he sure if it was a good thing.

Asten stopped ahead of them, green irises flicking from one to the other. “I got a crowbar. And this article I meant to bring.”

Asten now had some kind of toolbelt on his waist that was way too big for him, where a crowbar was dangling from his torso all the way down to his knees. There were other tools there, but Bentley wasn’t quite sure what they were. He had a handful of papers in his hands, and from what Bentley could see, most of them looked like old articles that he’d printed out.

He stepped up to them and handed each of them a page. “I checked the cabins bookings again while I had my phone and, take a look at this-“ He pointed to the paper in Bentley’s hand, which had a calendar table on it. “-Davis Henderson, star Princeton student and yadda yadda had that place booked right before he went missing, too.”

Nico scrunched his face up. “How in the world did you print these out?”

“I know someone for everything, nosebleed,” Asten said, raising a brow at Nico. “I could get anything from a fake ID to a box of butterfly wings in less than thirty minutes.”

Nico blinked. “A box of butterfly wings.”

“Yeah, there’s an old woman on eighth that collects them, I think she’s kind of insane. But that doesn’t matter. Check this out,” Asten pointed to the paper in Nico’s hands. “This girl, Charlie Reins, died in a freak mine collapse on a gemstone expedition to Brazil two years ago. No body was ever recovered. Closed casket funeral.”

Bentley moved closer to Nico’s side, glancing at the photograph of a blonde girl, maybe a little older than Jason? Why did she look kind of familiar? 

“A little more research revealed that-“ Asten grabbed the page from Nico and gave him a second one, with a picture of a girl and… Dr. Keene? “It was Dr. Keene’s step-daughter.”

Nico blinked. “Uh-huh. And what does this have to do with the Secret Keeper?”

Asten’s eyes flicked between them, a glint of something swirling around deep in his irises. “Well… I don’t actually know. But I thought it was interesting.”

Bentley glanced down at the pages, watching as the letters suddenly began to swim around like they were in water. He blinked twice as a dull ache surfaced at the back of his skull. Someone was talking — he couldn’t hear them. The dull colors around them mixed into an indiscernible blur, and he could feel someone touching him, he could feel himself moving.

“Don’t worry, babybird. I won’t tell your secrets,”

And the ground fell out from under him.

When he stopped falling, he was in a car.

He blinked a few times, trying to right his teetering mind. Everything was sort of spinning, still, and the rocking of the vehicle wasn’t helping. It made him feel like he was going to throw up. Had he passed out? Was he being taken home?

Asten was sitting — no, laying next to him, curled in a small ball in the rightmost car seat. Dumbly, Bentley reached for the older boy, and his hand moved and moved and moved until his arm couldn’t go any farther, but he still wasn’t touching him. He was right there but Bentley couldn’t touch him.

“Asten. What happened? Where’s Nico?” He tried. The outside world passed in pitch black blurs, only illuminated dimly by the car’s headlights. There were two people in the front seats — a man and a woman. Bentley couldn’t look at them very long, because the brightness of the headlights was making his head hurt worse. Asten didn’t move, nor did he respond.

The woman, however, turned from her spot in the passengers seat. She didn’t seem to see Bentley. “Está tudo bem, amor, estamos quase lá.”

Bentley winced when another stabbing pain shot through his head. It’s okay, baby, we’re almost there.

He looked up at the woman, at her unmistakably green eyes. She was speaking in Portuguese but… Bentley… he knew what she was saying. How did he know what she was saying?

“Dói tanto mãe... por favor, faça isso parar,” Asten replied, and Bentley only noticed right then that he was… crying. Curled up in the car seat and crying. 

It hurts so bad, mom, please make it stop.

“Tem que ser o apêndice dele, é tudo que sei que pode causar tanta dor,” The man said softly, leaning a little toward the woman in the seat next to him. Were these Asten’s parents?

It has to be his appendix, it's all I know that can cause so much pain.

“Acalme-se amor, você vai assustá-lo,” His mother replied. Calm down, love, you’ll scare him. Then she turned back to Asten, a petite hand finding its way between the seats to rest in his blue hair. “Você vai ficar bem, querido, só mais alguns minutos.”

You’ll be okay, baby, just a few more minutes.

Bentley brought a hand up to his skull, wincing when the pain behind his eyes heightened at the slightest touch. “Asten…?”

The older boy did move, that time. But it wasn’t in response to Bentley’s call, it was in response to his mother’s hands that were beckoning him forward. He looked younger. 

“Venha aqui Asten, você ficará bem,” Come here, Asten, you’ll be okay.

Bentley watched in silence as Asten summoned all the strength he had left to climb over the center console into his mother’s arms. It was nothing short of pitiful — he was sobbing from whatever pain he was in, and his mother couldn’t really do much about it except hold him.

Bentley winced again when his head throbbed rather spectacularly, his vision blurring and then returning to normal a few times in a row. “Bruce?”

“Honey, stop!” Asten’s mother shouted rather loudly in English, causing everybody in the car, including Bentley, to leap out of their skin.

There was a girl standing in the middle of the road.

It was…

The Secret Keeper, in all her glory. Smiling at them with her twisted smile that looked gruesome and terrifying as usual, with her glowing amber eyes that only appeared when it was too late.

Asten’s father swerved into the other lane to miss her.

No one had a second to react before the car rammed into the front of an oncoming semi-truck, and Bentley’s ears rang deafeningly loud, his vision turned into nothing more than a blur of white. It felt like someone was stabbing a hatchet into his skull.

He opened his eyes. When had he closed them? He didn’t know. What he did know was that his head hurt so bad, and all he could see was white.

He looked down. He was standing on white — a solid white floor. He was still wearing the old black jacket and red tennis shoes. He was in a white box: white walls, white ceiling, white floor.

He turned, and the Secret Keeper was staring at him.

Bentley screamed, his heart immediately starting to hammer behind his ribcage as he scurried to get away from her. She didn’t pursue him, didn’t chase, just stood. Smiling.

“The past is a fickle thing,” Her voice came, but her mouth didn’t move. Bentley moved away until he found himself pressed into the furthest corner of the white room, as far from her as he could be.

“I can see your memories, babybird, but I can also see your future. Every possible variation,”

A gray smoke appeared, hovering over the floor only feet from Bentley. It swirled like storm clouds until it rose into a spinning pillar. After a moment, the smoke faded away, and a gravestone was left in its wake; a gravestone with the words Bentley Whittaker — ten years old engraved on it. A church bell that didn’t exist rang in the distance, and Bentley tried to push himself further into the wall.

And suddenly, the wall was gone. He stumbled backward a solid five steps before he was able to regain his balance, turning back to face the supervillain. 

The Secret Keeper was gone, too.

“Coming, Robin?” 

It wasn’t her voice coming from behind him, but Tim’s. Bentley turned. Tim was standing far off in the white room (Abyss? He couldn’t see walls anymore), wearing a suit that was very much not his Red Robin suit, but a solid black cloak that starkly contrasted the rest of the white everything Bentley could see.

Robin faded into view a few dozen feet from him, in a suit that seemed… somehow familiar, but also brand new. It only had two colors as opposed to the typical three or four — black and yellow, just like the bird. The black hood of the cape was tugged over Robin’s head. A glass case appeared in front of him, holding what looked like Dick’s Nightwing suit.

Tim stepped forward, the cape of his Batman suit dragging the floor. He rested a black-gloved hand on Robin’s shoulder. “Bentley?”

Robin turned, and Bentley blinked. 

He was staring at himself. Older, thirteen or fourteen, maybe, with a black domino mask clutched tightly in his left hand.

“Yeah, I’m coming,” The other Bentley replied, bringing his Robin mask up and resting it on his face.

One variation of his future was… for him to be Robin to Tim’s Batman?

He and Tim faded away in clouds of gray smoke. The Secret Keeper’s voice came: “The good variations… the bad.”

“C’mon, Bentley, c’mon, c’mon…” Another voice that wasn’t her’s echoed around the white chasm. Bentley turned, inhaling sharply when he saw himself… dead.

He… or… another Bentley was hanging slack in someone’s arms. His face was pale and lifeless, brown, glassy eyes staring at nothing. He was wearing a Robin suit — Damian’s old one, that Bruce had just made a replacement for — and there was…

God, he felt like he was going to throw up. There was a huge, jagged piece of metal debris sticking out of the other Bentley’s stomach, coating the entire midsection of the Robin suit in crimson. Jason was the one holding him, in his Red Hood get-up minus the helmet, and they were standing in what looked to be… a pool of glowing green water?

“C’mon!” Jason shouted at no one in particular. “You saved me, so save him!”

Bruce came into the scene, drifting up next to Jason in the pool. “You’ve been in here for hours. He’s gone, Jay.”

Bentley’s head throbbed as he stared into his own lifeless eyes for what seemed like forever, until that, too, faded into smoke.

“Even the ugliest variations. I can see them all,” Her voice came.

“Puppeteer!”

Bentley whipped around again, and standing a few dozen feet ahead of him, was his father. Laying limp at his father’s feet was Damian, in his new black Robin suit. The white floor beneath him was stained and streaked with blood, and his suit and mask had been burned and torn, leaving seared and ripped flesh in its wake. He was gasping for breath, and he coughed up a mouthful of blood that made Bentley’s head swirl.

Another Bentley came into view, sauntering up behind his father. Their red hair and brown eyes matched in a way that made him feel sick. They were each wearing suits. Full-blown tuxedos. His father pulled a pistol from a holster on his side, chambering a round and flicking the safety off. Then he held it over to the other Bentley.

“The last bird is yours,”

The scene seemed to expand, and several more battered and bloody corpses came into view — Jason, Dick, Tim, Bruce, Steph, Duke, Bruce, Cass, Barbara, even Alfred.

Bentley watched with mounting horror as the other Bentley — the Puppeteer — took the gun in his small fingers and aimed it at Damian’s head.

His own voice made his ears itch like nails on a chalkboard. “See you on the other side, Babybird.”

BAM!

Bentley — the Bentley, the only Bentley — snapped his eyes shut as the resounding gunshot echoed through the white, a soft whine escaping his lips. He wanted to throw up. He wanted to pass out. He wanted Bruce.

When he worked up the courage to open his eyes again, all of his possible futures were gone, and the Secret Keeper was standing mere feet from his face.

“Your future rides on what you choose when you wake up. Remember that,”

Pain. Searing pain, like a million red hot knives were penetrating straight into his brain. Bentley screamed. Couldn’t see anything. Felt something cold. God, he was so cold. He was so cold. Where was Bruce?

“Bentley, buddy, please wake up,”

He was so cold.

“I knew we shouldn’t have left!”

“This could’ve happened even if he was at home!”

“Well, he’s not at home!”

Bentley was so cold.

“Oh my God, Bentley!”

When he peeled his eyes open, Asten and Nico’s faces were both hovering ominously above him. The light from the single flickering streetlamp shined behind them like some kind of indecisive halo, coming and going, making Bentley’s head hurt even worse, if that was possible. The nights sky was still shining above them.

He was soaking wet. They all were, actually. It was pouring rain now, and Bentley was laying on the sidewalk. Well… not just laying, but shaking — trembling like a leaf, actually, and only when he hiccuped pitifully did he realize he was crying.

He felt like he got hit by a truck.

He tried to push himself upright, but his mind swirled and left him nothing but nauseous.

“You probably shouldn’t move too much,” Asten suggested. “You look like you might hurl.”

He felt like he might hurl. The Secret Keeper could see the future. His future. All of them. Him dying, him being Robin, him being the Pupeteer… And he could… he… he…

The Secret Keeper was the reason Asten’s parents died.

That’s why he was so hellbent on killing her.

Bentley buried his face in his hands with a low noise.

“We should just go home. I knew something like this was going to happen,” Nico muttered. It was only then that Bentley felt a hand beneath his head, keeping it from resting on the pavement.

He blinked a few times, pushing his hands against his eyes in a futile attempt to make the tears stop. “What… happened?” The force it took to push the words out made the pain in his head triple, and he audibly winced.

“You… your eyes… they turned amber. And then you passed out,” Asten explained softly, his stringy, wet blue hair dripping rainwater. “What did you see?”

Bentley shook his head to dismiss him, but it ended up being a terrible mistake. It just made everything spin. And he was so cold.

“Let’s take you back to the Manor,” Asten said, a gentle hand resting on Bentley’s left shoulder. 

The Secret Keeper… had said what he chose to do next would impact his future.

Maybe she was trying to scare them off. Maybe they really were on her trail.

He couldn’t go home yet.

“No,” Bentley argued, blinking a few times. Their faces went in and out of focus, and even though most of his mind was writhing, he breathed in deep. “No, I’ll be okay. We have to find her. I just… I just… need a few minutes. I’m okay.”

Asten grimaced and glanced over at Nico. The blonde looked back at him, an expression of pity and understanding painted across his features. “Look, I’m all for pushing through the worst of times, but you really don’t look good, dude.”

“No. I’m… okay, I just… don’t feel very good. Right now. I’ll be okay. Just… just give me a minute,”

He almost sighed in relief when he felt Nico’s hand brush his hair away from his face. It made him miss Bruce. He was so cold.

“Just give me a minute. I’ll be okay. I’m okay…”

Bentley curled up against Nico’s knees and cried.

—

dedicated to @sassenashsworld 💚

—

tag list! (If you want me to remove or add you, ask in comments!)

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @cademygod @skylathescholar @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun

[boba-at-323]

Punisher

Note: So uh... kyuzu x therapy when? I literally wrote this after crying for nearly 2 hours|| No this is not smut || Yes I cannot come up with titles <3 || Please ignore any mistakes!

The autumn leaves turned brown and wilted to nothingness because summer had already bid its farewell. The sky painted itself grey when September wrapped up its role in the year. The air blew silent as well, as if too afraid to speak.

The small stone bridge you leaned against displayed in front of itself a small clear lake, covered by the fog which came with the seasons changing. The ducks and their ducklings, which usually inhabited the lake, had probably migrated to somewhere warm too. It seemed like the universe was mimicking the emotions you felt and hoped to escape.

You could hear Phoebe Bridgers singing Punisher through your earphones but her voice had faded into the background because you weren’t really listening to the song. The earphones were just an escape from reality, an attempt to loosen the knot you felt in your chest.

The tears brimming in your eyes went unnoticed by you and were soon rolling down your face ever-so-gently. A defeated sigh escaped your lips when you figured that your “try” to sort out your thoughts all by yourself had ended up being an even more tangled mess than before.

Why couldn’t everything just be fine for once?

In the middle of your numb thoughts, you felt someone’s sudden presence beside you. A hand shot up to quickly wipe away the stains the tears had left when they made their way down your face without your consent. You felt embarrassed as you thought of the awkwardness you might have planted between you and whoever the person was beside you. However, once you lifted your head to catch a glimpse of what the poor person looked like, a rush of heavy guilt ran down your whole body.  

“Hi”, the boy's voice came out silent.

“H-hi…” your voice followed even quieter. Once you paused the song which was playing, you felt that the silence which followed was loud enough to deafen anyone and the atmosphere heavy enough to crush a rock.

Renjun decided it wasn’t the best time to speak, you on the other hand felt too guilty to speak. He didn’t want to trigger you any further, and you felt stupid for letting him see you this way.

“I didn’t want to worry you…” you broke the silence with a quiet mutter, head hung and eyes never leaving the lake under the bridge, too afraid to meet his gaze.

He wasn’t looking at you though, he instead chose to look directly ahead at the same oblivion you were staring into before. Another period of silence took over.

“Are you mad at me?” you questioned unknowingly, chewing your lip as you awaited any reaction from him hoping your speculation was everything but right.  

“You know I can never be mad at you, right?” He said nonchalantly as if he hadn’t just walked on you amidst a mental breakdown.

“I’m sorry…” the whisper broke off before you could say anything further.

“You don’t have to be sorry for anything, my love.” Renjun’s hand reached out for yours which rested on the cold metal of the bridge’s railing, “If you want to talk, I’m listening…and if you don’t want to talk, we won’t. I’m right here with you.”

Something about how calm and reassuring his words sounded in the moment made you want to burst into tears right at the spot. Your feelings were rootless, and you hated how these random, unpleasant emotions took over the best of you even on the days when everything seemed to be going fine. The victims of your annoyed state were usually your family, who would in return snap at you, leaving you even more miserable. It seemed like this cycle of never-ending negative emotions was never going to meet its end, pushing you further into self-hatred.

But the only ray of light in all this darkness had been Renjun; an angel sent from heaven to save you from the misery you were in, or at least make it more bearable. Since the day he entered your life, he showed you the colours of the world and ever since you started dating, he proved to be the most wonderful boyfriend anyone could have ever dreamed of. His presence played a great role in your life, helping you stay sane and making you look forward to all the days you got to spend with him.

Without a thought, you threw your arms around him, burying yourself in his comforting embrace. Renjun’s hug felt like a warm beverage on a night when the grounds were covered with heavy snow. He smelt like lavenders which had just showered in the rain and now danced in the warm sunlight. He always calmed your senses, giving you hope that everything would be all right as long as he was there for you, by your side, holding you just like this.

He held you tight, secretly wishing he was helping you feel better even by the slightest of his actions. Seeing you in pain was the worst of feelings he had ever felt, oh how he would do anything just to see that beautiful smile on your face again and know that he was the reason behind it. But for now, a hug would do.

“Feel any better?” his calm voice blessed your ears again, and you nodded against his chest in reply.

“Good.” His hand tangled itself into your hair, gently combing through it.

It was a nice feeling. Your eyes fluttered close as your mind tried to focus on everything he was doing at the moment. From his touch to his voice, you wanted to capture everything just as it was, so that on days when he wasn’t there with you, these memories would help you find peace.

“Thank you…” you whispered against his chest, still not moving a single muscle.

“No need, I’m glad I could help.” Renjun smiled to himself.

September might have been a cruel month, but having Renjun by your side made even the unkindest of times the best ones.

Title : Punisher || Word count: 1k || Genre: Angst, Comfort, somewhat fluff || Pairing: bf! Renjun x implied Fem!Reader

Tagging : @armysantiny @mosviqu @jaehunnyy @riikiblr

[aberooski]

The School Duel

So today the rewatch hit the school duel, which for me and for my fellow Chazz stans is a very loaded 2 parter. There's so much I have to say about these episodes not even really so much because of the Duel itself because as we all know, despite years and years of watching ygo religiously, I still don't understand fucking anything about this game somehow. But it's the character stuff surrounding and interwoven into it.

I'll try to keep it brief because I've talked extensively about this several times on this blog over the years. But anyways, the important part is that the School Duel is a pivotal moment and a turning point for his character in many ways. The effects of this run through episode 35 as well but we'll get into that when the time comes.

The School Duel is where the other characters are confronted by the fact that the Chazz they knew, wasn't the real one. It's the facade his had to put up in order to satisfy the insane requirements his brothers are pressuring him to fulfill. He doesn't get a say in what he does up until this point, it's already decided. He's going to win this duel and work even harder to prove himself to them and become the head of the dueling world.

He has to.

They've already decided this for him, which is why they literally televise the event. Because they've already decided that he's going to win and since they've decided that, there's no way it won't happen. So why not? Show the world that the Princeton's are the best at everything in every way. And the pressure of all of this is too much for him, because let's not forget that they are grown ass adults doing what they do and they're forcing all of this insane pressure and expectation on a child. And before the duel Jaden catches him having a breakdown and crying in the bathroom. Then he goes and tells Syrus and Chumley before the duel that he's starting to understand Chazz and why he is the way that he is, because Jaden now understands that Chazz isn't coming from "an easy place". Which no, he truly isn't. And up until this point the only ones who knew that, were the Princeton brothers, and the audience.

But now Jaden knows it too. At least to a certain extent based on what he overheard.

But this opens a door because Jaden throughout the duel is trying to coax the real Chazz out, he's trying to get him to forget about his brothers for a second and just enjoy the duel. But he can't. Throughout the duel Chazz keeps looking to them, and getting angry like they're literally breathing down his neck all the way from the stands.

Jaden reads him like a book, he calls him out for dueling for his brothers. Because he largely still is, but at the same time, he's already made the decision to take back his autonomy from them by choosing not to use the cards they gave him, and therefore, whether he knows it or not he is also dueling for himself. It's episode 35 where we see that little act of rebellion allow him to truly duel for himself again. That's a discussion for another time, but that's the thing about the school duel that gets me, it's seeing Chazz for kinda the first time be able to, in the face of his brothers, do something for himself. To make his own choice and stand up to them even by just not using the cards they gave him. Because for once he wasn't playing on their terms.

But the thing is that up until now, Chazz's entire demeanor has changed around them. He closes off, he shrinks down, he shuts up. He sits there and quietly listens and does what he's told and that's not the real Chazz, we all know that. But Chazz doesn't even know the real Chazz anymore at this point, but his little romp and North Academy showed him a glimpse of himself, his true authentic self. And that gives him that little push to find the strength he needs to defy his brothers and not use all the rare cards they tried to give him and stuck with his own cards and North Academy's cards that he was given to represent the school. That is a major step and it's his first step in breaking free and finding his true self again.

And I wanna bring in the idea of Chazz up until now having his choices dictated by others, specifically his brothers. Because this is where that begins to change. Chazz does still want to and plans on winning this duel (which sadly he doesn't) but the thing is, while he is still trying to please them, he's not doing it for his brothers completely anymore. He's not even doing it for North Academy, he's doing it for himself even though he doesn't recognize that yet because he can't yet.

And when he does lose the duel, I just wanna say it sucks that he lost for one, because it's so monumental of an occasion for him. It's everything. But it also gives us honestly another formative experience for Chazz due to that loss, because we see Jaden and the others actually stand up for him. He's never had that before in his life, I guarantee it. And certainly not because anybody actually cared enough about him and valued him enough as a person to do so out of any genuine concern and care for him. He's only ever had people hanging around him to be a status symbol, because of his wealth and high social status. The moment he loses any of it everyone turns on him. When Jagger grabs him practically by the neck and while his brothers are abusing him in front of TWO entire schools it worries me to think what goes on behind closed doors when we see what they'll do in front of that many people without giving a shit, Chazz is genuinely shocked to see Jaden defending him, much less the others backing him up. And that hurts my heart a lot, it kills me even.

This is where another shift in Chazz happens and the door is opened for him to actually become their friend. Because they are opening the door first, they are showing him that they care and again I say, that's something he's never had before. It's a beautiful moment in the midst of what for Chazz honestly must feel like is the world caving in on him. Yet another thing and another victory that he's been denied, another humiliation, another reason for his brothers to hate him and to treat him even worse and make his entire situation that much more unbearable. And yet, in the midst of it all, there it is.

The reason Luke Hemmings' Comedown is in my Chazz playlist.

---

"All my life

I've been beatin' this horse

Breakin' these same old wishin' bones

Hopin' they'd bring me back to course

All my life

I've been passin' this blame

And once you get on, you won't ever get off

And won't be the same

Let it come down on me

Let me see all the things that I was supposed to see

Light up a darkness I was never meant to

Climb out of like a bursting sunrise from the deepest sleep

A change of heart and a silver linin' down on Camellia Street

Let it come down on me"

---

Because at the end of this duel, there's that light, that silver lining, another defining shift in Chazz's character and no doubt a core memory in his life and all it took was Jaden telling Jagger to let him go.

The School Duel is everything to me.

Anyway that's why Chazz should've won the School Duel, thank you, goodnight.