#but she's a nightmare instructor

[fandomfluffandfuck]

You ever have one of those professors where you're just like... how? How are you,, employed? Y'know, as an instructor. A teacher. Someone who is supposed to teach. How did you get here because, in the least mean way I can possibly say it, so fucking bad at your job?

[sanarsi]

Private lessons

no-outbreak!instructor!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: Joel gives you private horse riding lessons Warnings: +18, MDNI, age gap (reader is 36, Joel is 41), dom!Joel, unprotected PIV, playing with pussy, horse accident, wounds and blood Wordcount: 2,7k An: Oh yeah, cowboy Joel taking care of your wounds and you? The dream came true. Enjoy your meal xx Music I worked with: West Coast - Lana Del Rey

Masterlist

Sunday lessons with Joel Miller became your routine.

The desire to learn to ride a horse turned into a stubbornness that Joel had never seen before. He was honestly amazed to see how hard you tried to tame one of the most submissive horses. And he was even more amused by how you failed at even that.

Joel was usually in charge of young people, school children or young adults.

And then there was you.

The only woman over thirty who fell off a horse more times a day than she was years old. No small feat.

So yeah, Joel Miller was stuck with you.

“Loosen the reins,” he said, watching you slowly ride around the training field.

“They’re loose. Should I let go of them completely?” you growled under your breath. An hour of riding and all you’d learned was that your ass was sick of that damn saddle.

Joel smirked as the horse tried to turn to the side again. And that certainly wasn't the reason you were unconsciously tensing one hand more than the other. You stubbornly tried to put the horse back on the right track, which made the horse neigh disapprovingly.

Yeah, Joel had to admit that he enjoyed your lessons despite everything. He laughed so much it would make his stomach hurt.

"Synchronize your hip movements with her. You bounce off her like a ball," he said again, crossing his arms. You sent him a deadly look and tried to fix your mistake. You really tried.

But suddenly the horse neighed restlessly, changing speed, and you flew too far forward. You squealed, grabbing her neck, then fell flat on the ground. You groaned in pain, turning to the side and bent in half, feeling your crotch burn with pain. You hated that fucking saddle.

Joel quickly found himself by your side, kneeling down to take a closer look at you. His hands turned you onto your back, making you moan louder.

"You were supposed to synchronize your movements, not fall off of her," he commented, amused. His hand touched your temple, making you hiss in pain. "You're bleeding," he said seriously.

You barely opened one eye to look at him. He carefully examined the cut on your forehead until he finally looked into your eyes.

An eye, actually.

"How much can you see?" he asked, holding up two fingers in front of you. You frowned, looking at his hand.

"I don't know. Three?" Joel sighed heavily, and you groaned again from the pain in your head, back, crotch, and everything, actually.

After a moment, his arms were under your knees and back, lifting you up. Ignoring your moans of pain, he moved towards the exit of the training room. You curled up more in his arms as you walked through the stables, the loud neighing of the horses only worsening the pain in your head and PTSD.

Horses would be in your nightmares for the rest of your life, that’s for sure.

"I guess we'll have to go back to basics before I let you ride a horse again," he said amusedly as he walked through the clearing towards his home.

A medium-sized wooden cabin like something out of a movie. Perfectly in Joel's style.

He walked inside with you and immediately the smell of pine, wood and grain hit you. A pleasantly calming mix that sobered your mind a bit. He sat you down carefully on the sofa and you immediately fell flat feeling the pleasant softness of the leather beneath you.

"Am I dying?" you asked groaningly as Joel began rummaging through the cabinets in search of a first aid kit.

"Yeah," he nodded, pulling out more things onto the counter. "But I'll save you, don't worry," he added, returning to you with a few necessary things.

You opened one eye, looking at the table where hydrogen peroxide, a few patches, and some pills were now lying. You groaned painfully as he knelt down by the couch and examined your wound before he got to work.

You obediently lay there not moving an inch as he cleaned your wound and then carefully applied a few small plasters. You winced from the hypersensitivity as he began to clean the remnants of dried blood from your face.

"You will live," he said, handing you two painkillers and a glass of water. You propped yourself up on your elbow, taking a few sips before handing the glass back to him. Joel looked at you for a moment, worried as you winced in pain. "Does it still hurt anywhere?" he asked, to which you immediately nodded.

Bad move because your head was spinning.

You stopped, trying to calm the growing nausea.

"Where?" he said again, starting to wander your face, searching for any wounds he might have missed.

"I hit the saddle" you groaned automatically clenching your thighs. Joel immediately looked at your hips looking for potential injuries. He gently squeezed his hand on your thigh and placed the other on your stomach holding you in place so you wouldn't squirm.

"You probably bruised your pelvis. I can't see any-" he suddenly stuttered, frowning when he noticed the blood stain on your pants.

His hand moved between your thighs to look at the stain that was almost next to your intimate areas. He pinched the material next to it with his thumb, which made you hiss in pain.

"I have to take your pants off" he announced and without waiting he started unbuttoning the button and zipper of your jeans. You lifted your head to watch as he concentrated on each movement.

"You could at least buy me a drink first" you mumbled under your breath and laid your head down again staring at the ceiling.

In one confident move he pulled your pants off your hips, which made you move a little towards him.

"Easy, cowboy" you snorted surprised by his strength. Your pants landed on the floor and Joel's hands immediately pushed your thighs apart. You gasped as you felt his rough, warm hands way too close to your pussy.

"You cut your thigh," he announced after a quick look at your wound. And again without a word he got to work. You hissed as he gently cleaned your wound. His fingers gently stuck plasters to secure the cut.

And with each movement his knuckles accidentally brushed against your clit covered by the thin material of your panties.

You swallowed hard feeling how in addition to the pain you were starting to get hot and all the blood was flowing between your legs.

"Joel..."

"Almost finishing," he interrupted you frowning in concentration as he tried to perfectly secure the wound.

And his knuckles continued to irritate that damn nerve point.

Your breathing quickened as you started to feel too much pleasure from it. You moaned quietly closing your eyes and he took it as a sign of pain that he could accidentally cause.

"Sorry," he said quietly and started to be more careful with his finger movements.

“It’s okay,” you replied, trying to sound normal as his knuckles began to rub your clit slower and more sensually. The fire in your belly began to creep dangerously towards your clit, signaling an approaching orgasm. You clenched your hand on one of the sofa cushions, feeling that you only needed a few strokes to come.

But then his touch disappeared.

"I'm done," he said, satisfied, watching his work. You began to breathe heavily and blinked a few times in shock at what had just happened. "Anything else?" he asked, looking at your face. You swallowed the lump in your throat, trying to act normal.

"Y-yeah," your voice trembled. "My synchronization of movements ended with a battered cunt," you snorted quietly, feeling the weight in your lungs.

Breathing became exceptionally heavy as you lay before him, battered, half naked, and warmed up from the near-orgasm he had unknowingly given you.

Joel's gaze immediately dropped to your hips and panties. He was about to make some dry joke when he saw the wet stain on your panties. And it didn't escape his attention how your pussy tightened, wetting the gray material even more.

Oh fuck.

Joel glanced at your face and again at your cunt, feeling a wave of heat pass through him. The wisest thing would be to withdraw from this situation. But doubt flew through his head.

Because after all, he was only a man.

And you lay before him, wet, breathing heavily.

Oh, you were thirsty.

"Here?" he asked, slowly running his hand along the length of your cunt until his fingers touched the wet spot. You gasped loudly, feeling his large, hot hand warm your pulsating womb.

His fingers pressed against your wet hole until your panties were soaked through. Your breath hitched as his other hand settled on your stomach.

“Or here?” He ran his fingers higher to your clit and gently began to rub circles on her.

A soft moan escaped your lips, unable to respond, too drunk from his touch.

“I guess here,” he nodded with a smirk. His fingers slowly teased your throbbing clit, and he watched as your face turned from pain to pleasure. He used his other hand to hold your stomach as your hips began to push into his hand. Your soft, sweet moans filled the room, hitting his cock as it hardened in his pants.

You wanted him to give you more.

To really touch you.

To sink his fingers into you.

To feel how wet he made you.

But he just gently rubbed your clit through the material of your panties. Fucking torture.

Your head began to spin, not from the accident, but from the orgasm that was approaching like a tsunami. You knew it was coming, slowly, making itself known in every part of your body. Until it finally hit.

You arched your back with a groan and shuddered as the orgasm hit your body. Joel held your hips in place, continuing to stroke your clit. Until you began to tremble in his hand.

He took his hand away and you started to breathe heavily. Your panties were soaked from the orgasm that was still pouring out of you. You rubbed your hand over your face and slowly propped yourself up on your elbows. Your gaze immediately met his, but your attention was drawn to his hand gripping his crotch.

Oh.

He was painfully hard. And his look was enough to show how much he had to hold himself back from fucking you on the floor like an animal.

You swallowed hard and slowly sat down on the couch. You were now like predator and prey. Joel watched your every move carefully, his jaw clenched tightly.

“I feel better now,” you said uncertainly. He nodded without a word. You blinked a few times, clenching your fists on the sofa, feeling something incredibly heavy hanging between you.

But Joel couldn’t help himself.

He stood up on his feet, not taking his eyes off you for even a second. His fingers found his belt, which he began to unbuckle.

“Time for your riding lesson” he said seriously in a hoarse voice. Your mouth fell open in shock as you watched him with those gleaming eyes.

He unzipped his fly and lowered his pants a little before wrapping his hand around his hard cock that was waiting ready in his underwear.

You didn't even register the moment he sat down on the couch next to you and pulled you on top of him. You sat on him with a lost look, resting your hands on his chest.

"Relax, after-hours classes are free," he said with a smirk.

His fingers pushed your panties aside and your snot immediately flew down, staining his boxers. His gaze fell down to your pussy and he hummed in satisfaction before looking you in the eye again.

"At our age, I'd take it as quite a compliment that I've made you so wet," he said teasingly. And a moment later his lips were on yours. You immediately returned the caress and ran your hands down his neck.

Fuck, even his neck was fucking masculine.

His stubble tickled you with every movement of his lips. Your tongues quickly found each other as his fingers found your wet slit. You moaned as he began to spread wetness along your entire length.

After a moment, his hands gripped your hips, forcing you to lift them a little. You pulled away from his mouth the moment you felt his tip just before your exit.

"We'll teach you how to ride a horse properly now," he said, raising his eyebrows encouragingly. Your breath trembled and a moment later his hands forced you to impale yourself on his cock. Slowly, so you could feel every inch of him entering you.

You parted your lips and moaned loudly only when you were sitting all the way on him. Joel gasped as he felt your so damn wet cunt tighten around him. He tightened his fingers on your hips as his cock twitched inside you.

“Forward and back. As if you were rubbing against me,” he began to explain and began to guide your hips. You moaned as his cock gently moved inside you and your clit rubbed against his happy trail. “That’s right,” he whispered, panting heavily.

You tilted your head back, submitting to his strong hands that guided your every move. His cock was still deep inside you, never stopping rubbing against your sweet spot.

“Yeah,” he panted, watching your pussy grind against him. He dug his fingers deeper into your skin. "Now we'll add bumps," he said, forcing your hips to rise with each thrust.

You moaned louder, barely catching your breath as your hips made semi-circular movements, impaling yourself on his cock.

Joel moaned softly and clung to you, attacking your neck with his lips. He bit into your skin, leaving wet marks behind as his hands forced you to speed up your movements. You moaned louder and louder, tightening your fingers around his neck.

“Fuck, you ride me like a pro, baby,” he growled against your neck, impaling you harder on his cock. You nearly screamed as he drove himself into you to the very base. His breathing quickened as he forced your hips into faster but still smooth movements.

“Fuck, Joel-” you moaned, tangling your fingers in his hair. His cock twitched inside you at the sound of your voice.

“Just a little more, baby. You’re doing great,” he panted, feeling your pussy squeeze him perfectly every time he hit that perfect spot.

“Yeah but I-” you stuttered, moaning. Joel looked at you and ran his tongue up your throat, finally biting your chin.

“Cum on my cock,” he breathed, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer to him. You collapsed into his arms as he leaned back on the couch and began thrusting into you. You buried your face in his neck, moaning as he held you in place, thrusting into you with fast and hard movements.

Your orgasm hit its peak in an instant. You gasped for air as you experienced the intense rush, clenching around his cock. Joel groaned into your ear as he felt your cream flow out of your pussy and onto his balls.

“A gallop is always captivating,” he whispered, nibbling on your earlobe before growling throatily as he came inside you.

One hard stroke.

A second hard stroke.

And a third hard stroke.

His cum began to flow from your slit as he panted like an animal against your ear. You groaned tiredly, falling into his arms with all your weight.

Joel tangled his fingers in your hair, hugging you to his chest. He tilted his head back, calming his breathing as his cunt squeezed against him, squeezing the last drops of cum out of him.

“Next lesson next Sunday,” he panted, making you laugh tiredly. He smiled to himself before placing a kiss on your head.

[darkbluekies]

The track runner reader fic w/Silas got me thinking👀

Hear me out okay..

Ballerina reader x Silas

How would he react to see her practice,her shows

Swan lake, Giselle..

Italian fouettés, Entrechat quatre x3 royale, Developpe A la Seconde etc

Yk the high extensions,leg holds the whole shebang

Just a thot👀

Stolen part

Yandere!mafia x fem!reader

Summary: you've finally been granted to do ballet, but when Silas sees you upset, everything turns into a nightmare

Warnings: yandere, mentions of blood, broken bones, a lot of guilt and confusion, panic attack(?), reader just feeling horrible

Word count: 2.1k

A/N: I took some creative liberty with your request, I hope that's okay. And uh, I know 0 about ballet, so take this with a handful of salt<3

One performance — that’s the deal. One single performance and then you’ll go back to normal life. You nearly fainted when he told you that you could do one dance, after months and months of begging, pleading and crying. You almost started threatening him when you became desperate enough. 

“Well … we’re here”, Silas sighs as his men stop the car. “You know the rules, don’t you? Do we have to go through them again?”

“No, I know them”, you smile. 

You take his hand while exiting the car. Silas smiles and squeezes your hand softly. It’s worth all the trouble, he tells himself. If you’re happy, then it’s all worth it.

When you enter the practice room, you’re met by a dozen other girls wearing the same clothes as you. It’s been such a long time ago that you’ve felt so … included. There’s a certain feeling about wearing the same thing that creates a unity you can’t explain. 

“Run along”, Silas tells you, giving you a small push towards the group. 

He walks over to the instructor. He can tell right away that she knows who he is. He braces himself. She can either call the police or let him go. If she decides to call the police, he’ll have to create a blood bath and snatch you back in the car. 

“Can I have a word with you?” Silas asks politely. 

“Sure”, the woman answers hesitantly. 

“I can tell by the look on your face that you know very well who I am, so I want to make a deal with you.”

“What type of deal?”

“If you don’t call the cops on me and give my girlfriend an honest chance — because I know that she’s magnificent — I will fund your entire club. All clothes, all expenses, all props, venue, is on me. Fair?”

The woman thinks for a moment. Silas know that the club is underfunded. He knows that she has to agree.

“Okay”, the woman says shortly. 

“Good”, Silas replies and waves at you to come over. 

You skip over with sparkling eyes. He pulls you in to kiss him, in front of everybody. His kisses are always controlled by him, but they always show extremely much love for you, a deep hunger nothing can satisfy. 

“My men will stay to supervise, to make sure nothing happens to you”, he says and gives you another kiss. “Have fun now, little thing. I’ll see you soon.”

You nod. Silas squeezes your shoulder, gives the group of ballerinas a warning stare and then leaves. 

You return to the group. The people who knows who Silas is give you nervous gazes and the ones who don’t look at you with jealousy. 

Well, this is starting off great, you’ll absolutely make many friends.

Time goes on. Silas enjoys seeing the wise smile on your face every time you exit the building after a practice. Every time you’re in practice, he takes the opportunity to do some errands. He always makes sure to come pick you up clean, never covered in blood. 

But one day, you’re crying when you meet him. His heart drops in an instant and he thinks that putting you in ballet was a mistake. It wasn’t worth it at all. 

“What happened, baby?” he asks worriedly and takes you in his arms. “What did they do to you?”

You struggle to talk through your violent sobs. He believes that you’re having a panic attack, but you can still move relatively well. Silas grabs your shoulders and waves at his men to come over. 

“Y/N, what did they do to you?” he asks and looks at his men. “Did any of the others hurt her?”

The men shake their heads. 

“Y/N!” Silas says sharply. 

“I-I didn’t … get … the ... lead role”, you manage to get out through your sobs. 

You know it’s silly, of course. Honestly. It’s childish to cry over not being the main character, but this was your only chance to be on stage before you’ll get pulled back into capture. You’ll never have this much freedom again. It’s embarrassing to cry about this, and you know that very well, but they don’t know how much you’ve suffered to even be in the practice room. 

“You didn’t?” Silas asks shortly. 

“No”, you cry. 

Silas turns to his men and hands you to one of them. 

“Bring her to the car”, he says. “I will be back soon.”

He disappears into the building. The practice room is empty, apart from the constructor who is cleaning up after today's class.

“Oh”, she says, noticing him. “Can I help you?”

“If you're smart, you can”, Silas says coldly. “I heard that Y/N didn't get the lead role. I'm just wondering why?”

“She wasn't exactly what I had in mind for this particular role … I mean, she's extremely good, but just not what I had in mind when I visualized the lead. She's a runner up, though.”

Not good enough, Silas thinks.

“Okay”, he says and nods. “I see.”

Without waiting for an answer, he turns around and leaves. Anger is burning through his chest. Seeing you so upset makes him see red. He would burn down the entire world for you to watch you smile. He walks back to the car where you sit in the backseat and the two men in the front. 

“Hey, baby”, he smiles and sits down beside you. “Are you feeling better? Should we get some food on the way home?”

You nod. Silas smiles and wipes your tears. His men are forced to hear how he sucks the air out of you in the backseat. He devours your lips, trying to comfort both you and himself. He holds you in his arms, letting you cry. The more you cry, the more embarrassed you feel. You’re ashamed because you can’t understand why you are so upset over it. It’s just a role, you’ll still be on stage, won’t you? Is it because you think that you’re better than the others? That you deserve the position of the lead? Do you deserve it because you’re so good or because this is your only chance? The others have many more opportunities to get the role you want, why can’t you just get one? You’ll never be seen again, why can’t you get it?

Why are you thinking like this? You’re not entitled to anything. Has Silas imprinted the narrative that you’re so special, so wonderful that deeply into your brain? Do you believe that you’re this special, one of a kind person that deserve everything because you’re so special? 

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Silas asks, caressing your cheek. “You look so thoughtful. Let me in.”

“I- … I- …”, you start, but can’t seem to talk — you can’t even formulate your own thoughts.

“Breathe, baby. It’s okay, you’re with me now.”

“I am breathing … I just …”

“Just …?”

You shake your head. 

“Just hungry”, you lie. “And tired.”

“It’s okay, you’ll get some food soon”, Silas promises and kisses your lips once again. “We’ll stop by McDonald’s.”

You get your food and you eat together with Silas in your bedroom, but you can’t stop thinking about the lump in your stomach. Why are you so upset? Why can’t you put words on your feelings? 

You lay awake the entire night in your empty bed (because Silas is out working) and think. Crying over not getting the lead role won’t make you enjoy the last few weeks in the club. Ballet is your true love, you should do everything you can to enjoy it — specifically because you’ll not get it back. You should be happy with your role — you’re even a runner up! That’s fantastic. You breathe out. Ease sets into your heart. It doesn’t matter what role you get, as long as you have fun. 

When you enter the practice room the next time, you can tell that something is wrong right away. The girl who got the lead part … has crutches. You feel a shiver run down your back. Mortified, you shake your head. Silas. He must have done something to give you the lead role, that you so desperately wanted. He never got to know that you became satisfied with your original role. Guilt washes over you, suddenly you feel extremely sick. You need to take a hold on the wall to not fall. One hand presses against your chest to not vomit. 

“Y/N, are you okay?” one of the body guards asks as they hurry over. 

You nod sloppily. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, oh my god. This is all my fault. 

This is what you had been feeling bad about — finally you can put words on that weird feeling in your stomach. You were scared that Silas would do something to the girl that got the lead without even noticing it. If anything, that shows how close you know Silas.

“He … he did this … didn’t he?” you whisper, feeling distant. 

“The boss couldn’t stand to watch you be upset”, one of the body guards answers quietly, only for you to hear. “He made sure to get you the role he wanted.”

You’re freezing. That poor girl. Suddenly you don’t want that part anymore. The part is dirty, and your hands are covered in blood. 

Your mind is anywhere but in practice when you dance your stolen part, but your body works for you. 

Silas is standing out in the parking lot a wide smile when you walk out. He opens his arms for you, but you don’t walk into them. 

“Are you happy now?” he asks. 

“You shouldn’t have done that, Silas …”, you say quietly and shake your head. 

He tries to grab you, but you jerk back. Silas frowns. 

“But you wanted it”, he says. “You had a panic attack. I gave the part to you.”

“Silas, I feel extremely guilty. I stole her part. It’s not fair.”

He grabs your shoulders and force you to look at him. 

“The world isn’t fair, little thing”, he says. “If you have some power, use it. I want to use my power to make you happy, baby. You’ll do better than that girl ever could. You should have gotten that part from the very beginning.”

He gives you a kiss and brings you to the car. 

When the day for the performance arrive, you refuse to come out of the dressing room. The costume looks horrible on you. You can only see the other girl in the mirror. None of the other girls have talked to you after the lead girl ended up with crutches. They all know why you got the role. And how you got it. 

“We start in five minutes, get out!” the instructor tells you and basically pulls you out on stage. 

You see a lot of familiar faces in the crowd. Silas has brought as many of his men as he possibly could. Silas himself is sitting in the front row with his right hand man beside him, smiling at you. You look around. All his men are smiling at you. Weirdly enough, it’s somehow cute. They all look like they could kill anyone in any second, but the second you look their way, big, genuine smiles creeps up on their faces. Turning them from killer machines to teddy bears. 

You dance to the best of your ability. This is what you’ve been begging and pleading for. Better enjoy the spotlight while you can. You can’t help but feeling dirty throughout the performance. Silas, however, has never looked this proud before. 

The second the applauds roll in, you fall to your knees, crying. You fulfilled your childhood dream, but at what cost? A girl broke her leg because of your emotions, you stole her role … you’re covered in dirt that you can’t wash off. You don’t deserve these applauds. You don’t deserve any of this. 

“Y/N!” Silas gasps and runs up on the stage with his right hand man by his side. “Are you okay, baby?”

“I want to go home”, you sob. “Get me out of here.”

Silas nods and waves at his men to walk out. He picks you up and follows his men. 

“You did so well, baby”, Silas smiles while walking. “I’ma always proud of you, but this was something else. Everyone saw how absolutely fantastic you were. You’re an absolute badass, baby. I fucking love you so much.”

You smile slightly. It’s finally over. You’ve achieved your dream — although you wish that you never had done it — and now, you’re going back to your locked bedroom. You almost long for it. 

[misserabella]

Is it ok if I ask for more police!ellie?????

a/n; ofc! :))

yes, sir

ellie williams x fem! reader

cw; +18 content! minors dni!, dom! ellie x sub! reader, punishment (r receiving), teasing, ellie being mean, spanking (r receiving), jealousy, possessiveness, kissing, make out session, praising, use of sir (ellie loves it), praise kink, degradation, fingering (r receiving), cum eating…

the training to enter the police corpse was hard. your body was always sore. and your stress levels were high. but it was worth it. you were helping people. making them safer. and that’s what mattered. or that’s what you repeated to yourself, ‘cause if you didn’t you’d actually forget about it and kill your fucking instructor.

ellie williams was a living nightmare. she was mean, and harsh, didn’t give a fuck about you or your problems. she wouldn’t have no crybabies on her team. she also seemed to despise you.

“what was that? i heard mumbling there.” she squinted her eyes at you, and you gritted your teeth.

“yes, sir.” you repeated, and she smirked.

“it’s nice to hear you can actually speak. you’re not dumb after all. but i’ll have to teach you to follow orders…” your muscles tensed. all of this ‘cause you had forgotten that today you were supposed to use long cargo pants instead of the short ones. fucking bitch… “20 push-ups.” you looked at her in disbelief and she arched her eyebrows like a ‘well?’. you dropped to your knees. “i wanna hear you count, understood?”

“yes, sir.” your palms made contact with the floor. you swore your teeth might broke by how hard you were grinding them. “one…”

she stood there, looking at you suffer as you managed to do the 20 non-stop. you knew that if you stopped to take a rest she’d add another 20, so even if your arms were shaking, you pulled it off.

“turns out you’re not as useless as i thought.” she smiled at you, and you swallowed the scoff that wanted to scape your throat. you almost fucked it up by rolling your eyes. “get up and out of my sight before i change my mind.”

“yes, sir. thank you, sir.” you said, getting up from the floor and leaving.

dina, your best friend, whistled as you walked towards her. you rolled your eyes now that corporate willisms couldn’t see you.

“she really has it for you.” she laughed and you sighed.

“she hates me. and i don’t even know what i’ve done!” you took a sip of your water.

“probably cause you look good all the goddamn time.” dina winked at you and you scoffed, bumping her shoulder.

“stop flirting with me or i’ll think you want to take me to bed.”

“and what if i do?” you laughed as she rose and lowered suggestively her eyebrows.

your body froze when you heard william’s voice screaming your last name.

“yes, sir?”

“you two take your bullshit out of my camp.” she scowled, giving dina a dirty look. “people are here to take their futures and training seriously, not to flirt and have fun.” you gulped. she had a fucking stick up her ass or what?

“yes, sir.” you gritted.

“don’t make me punish you again.” she warned before going away, the muscles of her back tensed through her white wife beater.

“fucking dick…” you muttered and dina snickered.

“dude she’s so into you.” your eyes shot open.

“what the fuck are you talking about?”

“that right there? pure jealousy.” she took a sip of her electrolytes drink.

“maybe she is into you.” ellie almost choked.

“you’ve gotta be kidding. did you see the way she looked at me? almost killed me.”

you rolled your eyes.

“you’re delusional. she’s not into me.” you looked at ellie just to find her already looking at you with her arms folded against her chest, quickly looking away with a frown.

oh?

“you’re the one being delusional. it’s obvious. that’s why she’s being a dick with you.” dina shrugged. “and you like her too.” you scoffed.

“me? woah. the sun is really making you hallucinate.” you put a hand on her head to feel the warmth on her hair.

“sure. call me crazy.” she was the one now rolling her eyes. “but you can’t fool me.”

“i’m not trying to fool you.”

your eyes met again, ellie‘s green ones staying put this time.

or maybe you were.

-

it was late at night. you had had to stay today to do your rounds, and you were fighting to not fall asleep.

it’s not like you could anyways…

“falling asleep?” you rolled your eyes at ellie’s voice.

“no, sir.” she had been rounding you for hours, making sure you stayed awake and teasing you.

“sure. you look about to pass out.” you scoffed.

“i wish. that way i would have to deal with you…” you muttered and her eyebrows rose.

“what was that?” she inquired, getting closer.

“nothing, sir.” you said and she hummed.

“really? ‘cause i definitely heard something. why don’t you speak up for me, hm?” she leaned over you, since you were sitting on a chair, her eyes harshly looking into yours.

you stayed silent, to what she smirked.

“what is it, huh? cat got your tongue?” your heart jumped into your chest when her index and thumb took your chin, making you look up at her.

“no, sir.” you answered.

“then go ahead. speak.”

“i said; i wish. that way i wouldn’t have to deal with you.” you gritted your teeth, cheeks blushing in anger.

“well aren’t you sweet…” she cooed, her hand trailing down to your neck before harshly pulling from you to pull you closer and up. her breath hit your face as she pushed you against the wall, making you let out a gasp. “is that the way in which you talk to a superior?” your chest puffed up with a deep breath.

“no.”

“no, what?” she squinted her eyes.

“no, sir.” she hummed.

“atta girl. see? it’s not that hard to be nice. although i do think you need a lesson, what do you think, princess?”

princess. princess. princess.

“answer me.” she ordered.

“yes, sir.”

“on your front. hands on the wall.” you followed once she freed you from her warm hand. you almost missed it. the skin on your neck was burning.

you gave her your back, placing your hands on the wall and she harshly pushed your head down, making your ass stick out. her eyes fell on it, her tongue dampening her lips.

“3 fucks up on a day. you really like trouble don’t you?” you shivered at the low on her voice, her hand on your hip. “pull down your pants.” she ordered and you froze. your cheeks burned. oh fuck. “did you not hear me? pull down your pants.” she repeated, and that’s when your shaky hands found the hem of your cargo shorts, undoing the button and the zipper. you knew you could stop this. you knew she wouldn’t push you. but you wanted it. you wanted her to punish you. see how far she would go. “that’s it. good girl.” she praised you as you pushed them down your legs, letting them pool down on your ankles.

you bit down on your lip as you placed your hands back on the wall. you were shaking.

her eyes took in the pretty lace panties you had worn that day, smirking. “these are pretty.” you shivered when her fingertips traced them. “you wore them for woodward?” you shook your head. “can’t hear you.” you jolted when she left a soft spank on your ass. your knees almost buckled. what was going on? how the hell had you ended up here? and why the fuck were you enjoying it so much?

“no.” you shakily said, and ellie hummed.

“you sure? you too seemed awfully friendly this morning. you fucking her?” you could hear the sting on her voice.

“no.” you promised, but she spanked you once again, this time harsher.

“manners.”

“no, sir.” you corrected yourself.

her hand roamed on your ass, cupping your cheek and squeezing, making you let out a muffled whimper that made her smirk.

“you really need a lesson, huh?” you nodded, biting down on your lip. “that’s what i thought. why don’t you count up for me, hm? i think 15 will do.” you almost moaned.

“yes, sir.” fuck. how much it turned her on when you called her sir.

“atta girl.”

“one.” you muttered when the first harsh slap hit your skin, bracing yourself. she was kind enough to not start strong, although you knew you’d be left shaking. “two…” your breath was growing shallow, and your legs were trembling.

“just like that. loud and clear for me, baby.” you whimpered.

“three, four…”

it stung. it hurt. but it hurt so good. you were sure you were soaking your panties.

by the time you reached ten your knees were wobbling and ellie had had to use her free hand to keep you upright.

“please, sir…” you moaned, tears stinging your eyes.

“just five more, come on, you’re doing so good… be good for me just for a little bit more, hm?” you nodded, and she smiled. “good girl.”

“eleven, twelve…” you whimpered. you were sure your ass would be glowing red. “thirteen, fourteen…” you took a deep breath, nails digging on the wall as her palm made contact with your ass one last time. “fifteen.” she caressed your irritated skin, hushing you.

“that’s it. now breath for me, doll. breath for me.” you followed her orders, taking deep breaths. she pushed you up, spinning you so you would be facing her. your cheeks were flushed red, your lips bitten and glossy, along with your glazed eyes. you looked beautiful. and she knew this was all her. and you were soaked. she groaned as her hand cupped your clothed cunt. “how pathetic, you’re getting wet over this?” you whimpered as her fingers pushed in between your slit, teasing you.

“please…” you begged, your hips jolting against her touch.

“please what? speak up.” she ordered.

“please, sir. touch me.” she hummed.

“seems a little spanking did the trick, hm? being so obedient… i think you deserve a reward, don’t you think?” you nodded, and she cooed, pushing your panties aside and making you moan when her fingers were finally touching you with no barriers.

“oh fuck…” you cried out, your clit throbbing under her touch. she hushed you.

“shh, it’s okay. i’ve got you. i’ve got you.” she circled your clit, and your legs buckled. her other hand took your hip, bruising your skin as she held you up.

“ellie…”

“nuh-uh. gotta ask nicely, baby.” she was teasing you, a smirk on her lips as her finger prodded at your entrance.

“sir…” a moan left your lips, and she groaned. that went straight to her cunt.

as a reward she pushed her middle finger inside, stretching your pulsing pussy. “so tight…” you moaned as she started to thrust it in and out, hearing the slick sounds your cunt made for her.

you were a moaning and whimpering mess by the time she pushed the second finger inside, curling them to hit your g spot. it was almost embarrassing how turned on you were, how close you were to cumming. her lips were on your neck, sucking bruises that she knew everyone would see tomorrow. maybe that’s what she wanted, for all of them to know that you were already hers.

there was something so primal in the way she had taken one of your legs to her hip to fuck her fingers harsher and deeper into you…

one of your hands were on her hair, tugging at her auburn strands as she fucked you closer and closer to your orgasm.

“you close, baby? gonna cum on my fingers?” you nodded, biting down on your bottom lip. “then go ahead, wanna see it drip down your thighs.” and you did, letting go as the band snapped and your cunt gushed all over her fingers with a long moan. she fucked you through it, circling your clit to extend your high. “that’s it. give it to me. good girl…” you moaned at the praise, panting as it subsided. you whimpered when she took them out, pulling her fingers up to her mouth to suck on them. “so sweet…” you couldn’t help but tug from her hair to kiss her, tasting yourself on her tongue.

that night turned out to be really long one…

-

[kick-a-long]

Jewish Columbia students were chased out of dorms, spat on, and pinned against walls: damning report

By Matthew Sedacca

Published Aug. 31, 2024, 3:44 p.m. ET

Jewish students at Columbia University were chased out of their dorms, received death threats, spat upon, stalked and pinned against walls, as the Ivy League school devolved into a cesspool of antisemitic hate in the wake of Hamas’ Oct. 7 murderous raid on Israel.

The new and disturbing details emerged from the lengthy, 91-page document released Friday by the school’s faculty-led antisemitism task force, which revealed the extent to which the hate permeated the institution.

“Students described being shoved, pushed to the ground, berated for showing support for Zionist causes, and watching Israeli flags burned,” the task force’s authors wrote.

Jewish and Israeli students at Columbia University endured a months-long nightmare of harassment, violent threats and assaults after Oct. 7.

Getty Images

“They recounted seeing drawings of swastikas in their dorms, students yelling pro-Hamas chants, and being denied access to public spaces and opportunities simply because they were Jewish or Israeli.”

Testimony from nearly five hundred Columbia students informed the report, which found visibly observant Jews had been pinned to the wall and had their jewelry ripped off while coming and going from synagogue. Others recounted being spat on and having been called ethnic slurs on campus.

One student, who had installed a mezuzah on her dorm’s doorway prior to the Israel-Hamas war, was forced to move out after people were pounding her door throughout the night beginning in October, demanding she explain the Jewish state’s war in Gaza.

“If I walk on campus right now with my star out or kippah or say ‘am Yisrael chai,’ I could start World War III,” one anonymous student’s testimony read.

Instructors tasked with guiding and mentoring students instead contributed to the sense of isolation and unease among Jews and Israelis on campus, according to the report.

Students recalled being pushed to the ground and watching Israeli flags being burned.

One faculty member leading a class that delved into the Israel-Hamas conflict called a student who previously served in the IDF a murderer. Another professor extensively said a pair of Jewish donors to the university had “laundered” “dirty money” and “blood money.”

During the spring, as protests and encampments roiled the school’s Morningside Heights campus, protesters, including outsiders and members of the university community, bellowed death threats at Jewish students. Demonstrators who held Israeli flags, meanwhile, recalled being assaulted.

“There is a sense of personal threat, and we keep looking over our shoulders,” master’s student Omer Lubaton Granot, an Israeli veteran and father of a toddler, told an Israeli radio station in the wake of protesters seizing the academic building Hamilton Hall in April.

Councilman Eric Dinowitz (D-Bronx) described the students’ testimonies as “horrifying — and not surprising.”

“These are stories we’ve been hearing about, as the report says, even before the encampments,” he told The Post, adding that antisemitism had been on the rise at college campuses even before Oct. 7

“Without any sort of consequence [for students and faculty] this sort of behavior will continue

The task force offered several recommendations to address the issues detailed in the voluminous report, including improved anti-bias training for students and staff along with a new system for reporting complaints about antisemitism.

The report was issued just days before Columbia’s fall semester begins and less then three weeks after embattled university president Minouhce Shafik suddenly resigned, citing the “period of turmoil” that marred her brief tenure at the school.

Interim President Katrina Armstrong called the disturbing incidents “completely unacceptable” before rattling off new initiatives at the university aligning with the panel’s recommendations.

“This is an opportunity to acknowledge the harm that has been done and to pledge to make the changes necessary to do better and to rededicate ourselves, as university leaders, as individuals, and as a community, to our core mission of teaching and research,” she said

[two-white-butterflies]

peaches - am. targaryen

Description: Your father decided to marry you to the elusive, Aemond Targaryen. After a year of marriage, he still refuses to acknowledge your existence - that is until after Criston Cole becomes his son's teaching instructor. Cole isn't only interested in teaching your son. (MODERN AU) Rating: Mature 18+ (breast play, jealousy sex, desk sex, slight breeding kink, size kink, spit kink because it wouldn't be an aemond fic without it.)

There was nothing to love - no personality or show of appreciation. He kept to himself and expected you to do the same. "Aegon, please calm down." you mumble aware of Aemond's gaze from inside his office. "I wanna go swimming!" the child demands staring at the pool with his adorable purple eyes.

Aemond has shown no interest in helping you raise his son. He's there for parties and events - there when the child has a nightmare, but when it comes to Aegon's day-to-day activities - he's absent. You sigh. Aemond is a great father, but he's occupied with his work.

"We have to wait for the instructor, ñuha tresy." you smile, adjusting the skimpy swimsuit that you wore. It was revealing - it exaggerated the best parts of your body, while hiding the parts that you hated. Any husband wouldn't be able to keep his hands off you - but he was able to. Aemond has never touched you before - not even a strand of your hair. "Please, I won't go in the deep parts." he promised, jumping up and down with excitement.

A laugh escapes your lips, not trusting the little boy.

You lean down to his body - pushing a strand of his hair away from his face. "Have patience, little one." you answered firmly, prompting the boy to give you his best puppy eyes. You were about to allow him down the pool but someone clears their throat from behind you.

Criston Cole was staring at you - specifically your endowments. Your posture shifts as your body regains it's full height. He had that porno look in his eyes. The one that a man has before fucking a girl in a pornhub video. You didn't like it - you felt disgusted.

"Well, Mr. Cole will take care of you now." you walked to the side - gathering the robe on the daybed. You walk away from the pool - trusting the maids to supervise your step-son.

Completely unaware of Aemond's gaze.

He tried to focus on the mountains of paperwork on his desk - but he couldn't. His mind was elsewhere. He imagines you wearing that red swimsuit. The fucking swimsuit that you bought for him - the swimsuit that he should be the only one looking when you wore. He sees the way Criston Cole stares at you.

He places his pen down, opening his venetian blind slightly to watch his son learning to swim. You were standing there again - hovering over them with a blue-towel on your hands.

His son wasn't learning to swim - he was on top of a fucking floater while the instructor ogled at your breasts. His grip on his fountain pen tightens, spilling ink on his brand new pants.

He'll fucking gouge that man's eyes.

He reaches for his telephone, dialing his sister. "Helaena, are you there?" he pauses waiting for his sister's reply.

"Yeah?" she questioned.

"Can you escort Mr. Cole to his car? We won't be needing his services any longer." he commands, earning a snort from his older sister. "Is this because of his wandering eye?" she inquired, and he could hear the faint sound of someone slurping milkshake on the other line.

"If you have a problem with him staring at (your name)'s body, then you should fire all of your house-staff." she taunted, not telling the full truth - but also wanting to see how the situation would turn out. You were a pretty little thing - the eye-candy inside the Targaryen manor.

Everyone but Aemond seemed to be engrossed with you.

"What?" he interrogated, voice suddenly raising with anger. He could imagine all of his servants staring at you, watching you strut like a model on fashion-week.

"Fire Mr. Cole, right? I'm on it." she promised, ignoring his outburst and hanging up on him.

You were annoyed with everything.

Annoyed with Aegon singing his favorite nursery rhyme while underwater. Annoyed by your husband's lack of emotion and annoyed with Cole trying to talk to you.

Helaena comes to save you.

"Mr. Cole." she looks down with her sweet voice. "Yes?" he asked, pretending to hold little Aegon. "The maids have prepared your towels and the shower that you will be using. We do not need your lessons anymore." she announced and his face falls flat on the ground. "What? That's impossible - Aeg doesn't know how to swim yet." he defended but Helaena's thin-lipped smile proved that he wasn't doing shit.

"We can have that arranged, but as of the moment we have no need of you." the woman added, one of the maids held unto the boy while Criston emerged from the pool - mumbling strings of insults.

There were three rules before your marriage to him. One, don't do anything that would ruin his reputation. Two, remain loyal to him. And three, never go inside his rooms.

This was your first time stepping on the carpet that was outside his office door.

"Aemond." you call out.

The door opens automatically and you welcome yourself inside.

He doesn't stare at you - or even acknowledges your existence. He keeps on jotting down his notebook. "Did you have to fire Mr. Criston? I don't like him but Aegon adores him." you ask in a soft tone, careful to not offend him.

It was impossible to offend him - no matter how hard you tried, he always kept his cool.

"He's incompetent. There's no room for that in my household." he replies in a cold tone, continuing to sign a few bands of contracts. "I suppose," you look around the room - scanning around his decor. There were pictures of history around the walls - the beginning of industrialism and the decline of tradition.

He was a man of the arts - and you didn't know that.

You knew nothing about your husband. How fucking stupid.

" - and don't wear that swimsuit again." he added after a deep breath. Your eyebrows merged into each other. He wasn't going to tell you what you could and couldn't wear. "I beg your pardon?" you inquire.

He looks up from his paper - and unto you. The girl who was still wearing the said swimsuit.

"It's not appropriate." he asserted through gritted teeth. He couldn't understand why he was riled up at the thought of other man staring at you - and your round and perfect peaches. "What is appropriate to you? I cannot wear my pajamas around the pool." you responded in a brash manner, his eye widens at your show of rebellion.

"You can wear a bikini but not around men." he tried to reason, navigating himself around the labyrinth of his own reasoning. He didn't make sense. "Not around you, then?" you take a step forward, dominating over him in front of his desk.

He stands up, reaching for the collar of the bathrobe that you wore - he pulls your body closer, merging his lips with yours.

What is his is yours.

His money, his empire, even his son - but you were only his.

His to fuck. His to breed.

A moan escapes your mouth as you began climbing over the desk. Kneeling but you weren't able to reach his height. Your head only reached his eyebrows. "He was staring at you, huh?" he asked, slowly untangling the strings that held your top.

With a tug of a string, your breasts were revealed to him. Taut and bouncy, like he imagined them. His hands fondled your breasts, playing and teasing them. He lowers his head, sniffing your neck and placing a nipple inside of his mouth.

He was sucking you - like a newborn babe searching for milk.

"Aemond." you moaned, pulling his head closer.

His right hand trails down to your mound, teasing it through the cloth. "You are mine." he announced, pressing kisses on both of your breast - alternating between the two of them. "Yours." you replied, his hands untangling the string that held your bottom - letting it loose.

He frees himself from your grasp, reaching down to unbuckle his belt. He lowers his boxers - freeing his cock that stood tall and proud. Your eyes widened at his length - it was going to fit, but it was going to hurt.

You sit properly on his desk, legs wide open as you welcomed him. "Do it." you demanded earning an amused chuckle from the business magnate. He places a hand on your face - cupping your cheeks. He inserts a finger inside your mouth, allowing you to suck on it as his cock enters your hole.

It was pleasure - breath taking pleasure.

Your grip on his shoulder tightens, telling him to go deeper.

"Harder." you moaned.

He complies with your order, lifting your leg to reach the top of his elbows. "Fuck - shit." you cursed, entering a new realm of pleasure. There were stars in your eyes. You hold unto his shoulder, eyes gazing up to interlock with his.

His eye was beautiful.

It was a deep shade of lavender.

"Keep moaning and I'll cum." he threatened, pulling your body closer and rocking his desk. The paperwork was forgotten - all in favor of his beautiful girl. "Cum inside of me." you moaned again, feeling his length prod inside your cervix. "You want to give our son a sibling?" he chuckled darkly.

"Yes!" you moan. His cock was reaching places you didn't believe was possible.

You hear the desk rock loudly - like an earthquake. Your leg falls on his side, and he raises the other one over his shoulder - slightly tipping your body to be lying down. "Oh - Aemond!" you scream feeling otherworldly bliss.

His hands squeeze around your cheeks, staring at your face - mouth wide open with lust. "Who owns you?" he asks, squeezing it tightly. "You do!" you answer, and he smiles.

Rocking on a steady rhythm.

"Open your mouth, princess." he commands and you follow him, opening wider. He closes his mouth - gathering the spit on his tongue, releasing it on your mouth. "Swallow." he ordered and you obeyed him - the faint taste of whiskey lathering inside your mouth.

"I love you," you confess feeling a hot sensation in the bottom of your stomach. "I love you to, princess." he replies, merging your lips together as thick ropes of cum populate your ovaries.

[suguru-getos]

— soft yandere suguru geto pt 1 —

-> building the story in this one. warnings: none! the reader meets suguru for the first time since her best friend was encapsulated by a curse causing nightmares and issues. it’s fluffy <3

suguru had one goal — irradicate the non-sorcerers so there comes to be a world without curses. satoru on the other hand wanted to make people capable enough to fight the curses. the goal was same - a world where curses don’t exist anymore. suguru was hell-bent on achieving that of course. gaining fame as ‘geto sama’ a monk-looking saintly human being who helps people. the backgrounds are for suguru to handle anyways - he needed curses to get powerful & eventually achieve his goals.

his hatred for monkeys was unsubstantiated. no one who was not in control of their cursed energies would be spared by suguru geto. he didn’t even spare his parents. though he knows certain monkeys are slightly more valuable than others. some are his banks, some give him curses to swallow. and some are the ones who have no control of their CE and end up attracting higher curses/creating them.

what he didn’t take into account was you. your best friend was tormented by sickening nightmares of being non-conned almost everyday. aches in the back, cramping and utter pain during her period. you had almost given up — as her roommate, you had searched all psychologists; all doctors. nothing seems to be working. until one day — you found a ‘monkey’ treated by none other than geto sama.

without wasting time, you believed their gratefulness and their willingness to lend you the address. since nothing is working — you will definitely try anything at this point.

the moment your car landed on the geto estate you knew this man was no joke. why else would he be able to afford something like this otherwise? on the other hand — you were suspicious as to his ulterior motives. what if he was a mafia boss or something? who knew. finally, after some wait; you were advised to follow the instructor who led you to suguru geto.

he sat there, a merry & a friendly smile over his face. something that’s practised even as he talks to your friend. “yumiko san.” he grins, “you have symptoms like rape nightmares, don’t you? you feel like you’re being touched in the wrong places & there’s nothing you can do about it?” your best friend teared up, she had never felt so intricately seen and heard the way geto had made her feel. he raised a hand, and the curse that was latched into her, unseen by you. unseen by her.. latched itself into suguru’s hand.

she instantly felt lighter & felt better. while you were extremely considerate of what suguru geto did, you were not pleased. what even was that — you and your best friend bowed and on your way to leave. you turned back, “what did you do?” you couldn’t help but ask.

“ah, i have god’s grace in my hands thankfully. nothing much. prayed on her behalf that her problems go away. little one.” he hums, monkeys are usually dumb enough to be happy-go-lucky with the treatment. you weren’t. suguru hums, “if that’d be all, you may leave. i have other things to cater to.”

your siren eyes met his own, deep down. you could sense suguru hated your best friend. it was just a hunch— the vibes were so off. you hum, “what do you practise then? what form of meditation?” you crossed your arms, eagerly wagering for more answers on his behalf.

suguru chuckled in disbelief, an insignificant, puny monkey was asking ‘him’ questions? “be grateful and leave.” he said dismissively. and your best friend held your wrist, dragging you outside. you were adorable and so curious. pity you were just an ordinary, low-class monkey.

“he’s a scammer, a fraud! i’m fucking sure! let’s go to a doctor.” you scoffed, gritting your teeth. glaring daggers at the man who laid down in front of you on a stage, seemingly uninterested. suguru wanted to play with you too, the same curse that was latched onto your friend, he transferred it into you, going out. now you’d have the same symptoms and suffer. shouldn’t have voiced your shit so hard, tsk…

unfortunately for suguru, you ended up like one of those who can see curses once subjected to cursed energy. you screamed gutterally when you saw the hideous creature attached to you. an amused smirk ran past his lips at the way you tried to shove it away. your friend was in utter confusion — what did she do? got on her knees and apologized on your behalf to ‘geto sama’ who promised to treat you. and forgive you of course. forcing her to leave.

you screeched curses and profanities at suguru, who was more than pleased to see you hit some sort of a standard he has for people he’s allowed to care about. his hand touched your crotch, right where the curse was supposed to be holding, unconcerned with your flustered resistance as he absorbed it.

“there we go, little girl.” he smiled, while you watched the curse turn into a ball. “this is the thing that was latched onto your friend. normal humans can’t see these. some of them can. i can.” you sat next to him and asked him a multitude of questions about this. you don’t remember the last time you had talked to someone this much & suguru doesn’t remember the last time he was so thoughtless. he was observing literally everything. your facial features, the way your brows scrunched when you emphasized over something, how you overcommunicated with your hands at times, rolled your eyes ever so often and shook your legs while you asked questions and waited eagerly for your answers. you blinked and your lashes looked so long and luscious, your hair suited you just well. he wonders how your soft looking skin would look all marked up with hickeys. he wonders how your voice would sound when you would moan or scream out his name. he wonders how his name would sound. how your lips would curve a certain way to pronounce ‘suguru’. oh he’s slowly losing his mind isn’t he?

he asked you to stay the night and join for dinner since it was quite late because of everything he just told you. you of course obliged and met his adopted daughters, miguel and the others who he called family. holy fuck they worshipped him. you knew that because of the way they respected you — treated you as their own because suguru said you are a guest today. his daughters were bratty but they knew their limits; seems like suguru raised them well.

after dinner, you joined him for a walk outside, pouting and flushed because he wasn’t wearing his gojo-gesa anymore. he almost looks so normal with that. “you aren’t an actual monk are you?” you raised a brow, grinning when he shook his head in denial. “no, i’m just here to collect cursed spirits because of my technique for a greater cause.” he hums; replying gently and looking deeply into your inquisitive eyes. you threw another question at him, seemingly obvious. “what greater cause?” you tilt your head like an indulged bird, and he caught that gesture. “want to know everything at once? hmm? little bird.” he smiled, looking relaxed and like a normal human being. “i’ll let you know with time.”

you had a peaceful and a sound sleep, why? because you were unaware how suguru watched you sleep in awe. just thinking of the ways he would watch you smile again, just thinking how he could make you feel special again? he can brain wash you into thinking humans are detestable, no?

the next morning, you were called for breakfast and had a great time, making promises to visit again while suguru bid you a farewell by kissing your knuckles. looking ever so charming. oh you will visit again, otherwise suguru geto would: either way… your red thread of fate was sealed.

suguru geto had a little crush…

or was he in love?

[ghost-bxrd]

Jason opens his mouth to retort when his phone starts ringing.

And not any kind of ringing, no. It’s the fucking Spooky-Scary-Skeletons song.

This is a goddamn nightmare. He should have stayed in bed.

He has exactly two options.

One, not pick up.

Which would be a good option, the best option, if it were anybody else. Because Jason knows the fucker isn’t above trying to ring up the manor itself if he feels slighted.

Two, pick up. And suffer the most awkward birthday congratulations since… well, last year.

Jason glares at each and every curious Bat watching him from the sofa as he excuses himself and heads into the hall, pressing the green button with a long suffering sigh.

“What?”

“It has come to my attention that you have not yet contacted my daughter for your name day well wishes.“

Jason thunks his head against the wall.

“I’m busy.”

“I am aware,” Ra’s says smoothly, and Jason just knows the bastard is stirring his sinfully expensive blend of tea with some golden spoon, “And yet this has not stopped you before.”

“Is there a point to this call?”

“Yes. Do make sure to call my daughter soon. She is being quite insufferable.”

Righteous indignation rises inside Jason like hot coals.

“She isn’t—“

“She has disposed of three potential tutors since this morning,” Ra’s cuts him off, and Jason’s mouth snaps shut, “Yes, I do consider this to be insufferable. And your brother has brought it to my attention that the likely cause of her irritability is your lack of communication.”

“I’m busy.” Jason repeats, but it sounds petulant even to his own ears, “Look, I’ll call her as soon as I get out of here, ok?”

“Make sure that you do. Finding instructors is a difficult enough task without my daughter culling half their numbers before they even stepped across the threshold.”

“Maybe mom wouldn’t have to dispose of them if they were skilled enough to evade her.”

“Oh, some of them were,” Ra’s says drily, “But it proved to be for naught when she decided the your brother’s pets hadn’t had enough sustenance for the day.”

…so, maybe Jason should have called.

— silly little outtake of chpt X of What You’re Longing For (you claim to abhor)

[nataliasquote]

The Price of Perfection | n romanoff

Summary: Natasha will stop at nothing to be perfect, but what will it cost?

Warnings: body dysmorphia, negative self image, toxic thoughts, self hatred, tiny mention of SA

wc: 1k

notes: this is depressing as shit. I wrote it one go (again) and tbh I don’t think it makes sense. I just started writing and didn’t stop. Yeah… vent fic idk. Anyway, enjoy, you angst lovers :)

-⧗-

Mirrors.

A symbol of vanity, casting reflections upon the eyes of the beholder. They’ve seen the most lavish ballgowns and the sleepiest eyes, countless discarded outfits and miniature fashion shows.

Used with friends, with families, with loved ones, a way to see one’s favourite people in the same place. They brought so much happiness without so much as a second thought, so why did she hate them so much?

Whilst the rest of the world crowded to take pictures in the mirror, Natasha had hers concealed away like an antique. A pale sheet usually covered the large reflective glass on her wall, she couldn’t bear the sight.

It wasn’t the mirror itself that caused such repulsion in the Russian’s stomach, no. It was the figure she had staring back at her that left her paralysed in disgust. She avoided all reflections like the plague, far too afraid of what she would find if she looked.

Mirrors hid nothing. They were as raw as could be, every flaw highlighted like the freckles on her pale skin. Natasha never cared for the way her body looked, it served her just fine, but something had shifted lately, something small in her mind triggering an avalanche.

How do you even begin to understand something that has been objectified your entire life? How do you view it as anything more than a way to assist a mission, anything more than something for other people to break at will. The visible scars were one thing, but the invisible marks of the many hands that had slid grotesquely around her waist and pawed at her chest like pieces of meat were what stuck out the most as she obsessed over her reflection.

Perfection was a slippery slope.

And Natasha Romanoff craved perfection.

It was all she knew. But gone were the days of having instructors barking orders to ensure she maintained that divine perfection. She was on her own now, but was that a good thing?

Her self control was impeccable but her eyes told another story. They burned across the expanse of her stomach in the dim bathroom light, slender fingers tugging at the flesh on her hips whilst her jaw was set rigid. The cool air barely raised a hair on her arms as she picked herself apart, falling deeper and deeper into her nightmares as red lines began to form across her limbs and torso.

Where was the perfection she had been told she was?

Was it buried underneath the blanket of snow that coated her homeland in its icy beauty? Or was it simply a ruse, a false pretense, meant only to manipulate her further into the ultimate weapon.

Whatever it was, she couldn’t see it now. Even through blurry eyes filled with tears that warped her reflection further, Natasha still stretched and pulled at her skin, ignoring the burn that ignited just under the surface.

How can someone possibly want to love someone like her? A freak, a mess. Bile rose in her throat the longer she panicked, her eyes frantically darting between countless scars and layers of muscle she only perceived as extra weight.

Where had she gone so wrong?

Her mind, usually her sharpest weapon, unmatched in the face of the enemy, had turned on itself and left her the victim in the lonely battlefield. But who was she fighting, if not the figure who mimicked her every move and felt so familiar yet so horrendously foreign.

She didn’t know who she was anymore. Who did her body belong to, because it certainly wasn’t her. Would anyone want her in this state, or would they be just as repulsed as she was after mere seconds of inspection.

“But you’re beautiful.”

What lies. Her grip on reality may have faltered, like fingers slipping on sodden rocks, but she knew what beauty was. And yet now, face to face with the one so many people had admired, she couldn’t see the so-called beauty.

A breathy laugh escaped her lips, yet her expression did nothing to match it. It wasn’t that of happiness, but of desperation, of insanity, the final parts of her slipping away as dysmorphia finally took its hold.

She would never be beautiful, not to herself. Maybe for a fleeting moment when the sun shone just right and her chest felt a little lighter, but that feeling never lasted. All it took was one glance at her reflection in a window for the clouds to settle back inside her mind, reminding her over and over that she would never look the way she wanted. No matter how much she craved it.

The sheet went back up. Her eyes stayed glued to the sidewalk in fear of catching herself in a shop window, and slowly Natasha felt herself slipping away. Her close circle barely saw her anymore, she didn’t want them to see what she saw, and her fork only pushed her food around her plate instead of allowing her a taste.

She knew the price of perfection was high, but it felt astronomical as she scrambled after it, neglecting her life for a glimpse of that feeling. Yet it seemed the harder she tried, the further it felt, leaving her exhausted day after day.

But she never quit. That wasn’t Natasha Romanoff. If she wanted something, she got it, no matter the sacrifice.

But she was fighting a losing battle. Her clouded mind never once gave way to the idea that she was already perfect. How could it? She wasn’t happy with her body, no matter how much she lost or how far she ran.

To the rest of the world, she was the epitome of perfection.

But to herself, she would never be enough. No matter what.

And no compliment could fix that. Not when her self image was so warped that she couldn’t see straight anymore.

She was, and always would be, the reason for her downfall. No enemy could take her down quite like her own mind could and it was the only thing that gave her a sense of control.

But for the price of perfection, could she give it all up?

[respectthepetty]

The patients who Den interviewed said that everything was black

Then there was a flash of light when they were having a heart attack

Therefore, I think Tyme is experiencing cardiac arrest in the opening scene

And the doctor who is working to save the man's life in the beginning

Is the same doctor who wants Tyme to be an instructor

Finally, Great is white

Tyme is black

Yet . . .

When Great woke up from his nightmare about hitting the woman (behind bars *wink*) and felt chest pain, he was in gray

And in the beginning when Tyme had been shot in the chest, he wore gray

Real funny that grandma who joked about having a heart attack only has black, white, and gray yarn, and the one she is currently using is gray.

Kinda like the black and white are connected together by a single thread

[ivetried27nameswhataboutthis1]

Yoko: How did the athletic tests go?

Enid: You know how you said the high jump was easy peasy lemon squeezy?

Yoko: Yeah?

Enid: It was actually difficult difficult lemon difficult.

Wednesday: Enid broke three bars by bellyflopping onto them.

Enid: Wednesday couldn’t get over the bar at all and hit her head twice. Then she was disqualified for threatening to stake the instructor with the bar.

Yoko: And what do we learn from that?

Wednesday: That whoever invented the high jump should be assassinated immediately.

Yoko: No.

Enid: That the world is an unforgiving nightmare, that keeps kicking you when you are at your lowest?

Yoko: I was gonna say that you can’t expect to be good at something you never trained for. But now I think the lesson here is that you both need therapy.

[vivwritesfics]

Shine A Light Into The Wreckage

Chapter Nine - Positive

Bob Floyd was many things. He was an instructor at Top Gun, a lover of Tolkien books and a huge fan of coffee. But Bob was also clumsy. That was how he bumped into the table, knocking her drink onto her notebook. He felt bad about it. Bad enough to come back time and time again, in the hopes that she would be there. And, every time, she is. Each time looking a little worse for wear. It doesn't take Bob long to realise he has to save her.

Warnings: Abusive relationship! Abusive hair pulling! Abusive choking! Forceful sex! Domestic abuse! Seriously don't read if you're affect by stuff like this! Talks of stalking (but in a non serious manner), talks of non consensual groping. she gets called a whore, choking, SA, 'missing' birth control, blood, pregnancy, hint at child abuse (not explicitly written)

Series Masterlist

There was three days of nothing from her. Three days that she sat on the couch. Bob left food on the coffee table, but it would have been a miracle if she ate it.

There was nothing he could do. He couldn't even touch her without her flinching away from him. Gone was the girl in the coffee shop, the one who dressed like a grandpa and got her fancy hazelnut latte with oat milk.

Still, he sat with her, close enough to touch if she wanted to. It was all on her terms, and Bob wasn't going to push her. He'd never push her.

She wouldn't take his bed, instead curling up on the couch with Frodo. No matter how much Bob insisted, she wouldn't take it. And, instead of pushing her (He'd never do that, remember?) he cleaned out his spare room. The boxes of shit he'd been meaning to throw away since he arrived in North Island, he finally had an excuse to sort it all.

She wasn't herself, but at least she took the spare bed. She had also started wearing Bob's clothes, neither of them wanting to go back to that apartment. But if she'd asked him, Bob would have. In a heartbeat he would have.

But he didn't much mind her wearing his clothes. It was a nice sight, a woman wrapped up in his jumper or his naval academy shirts.

The hardest part about living with her was pretending he didn't hear the nightmares. Scenes of her abuse, of her abuser playing over in her head while she slept. When she had her first nightmare, Bob had run to her on the couch, wrapped his arms around her as he tried to wake her up. But that had made everything so much worse, with her desperately pushing him away.

After a week of living with him, of wearing his clothes and sharing his space, she finally laid her hand on top of his.

Bob had brought her food. A simple sandwich and something to drink. He placed it on the coffee table and gave her a moment to say something, anything.

But she was silent, staring ahead. Bob turned to leave. He wasn't annoyed, but sad. He didn't think he'd miss her this much when she was in the same room.

As he turned to walk back into the kitchen. She grabbed his hand and squeezed. "Thank you," she whispered, eyes pleading. Bob could only guess as to what she was pleading for. It was understanding she needed, and it was understanding she was going to get.

The second week came and went. Bob didn't make a comment about how she hadn't gone into work. Hadn't been able to contact them without a phone. It was on that second week that Bob realised she hadn't contacted anyone. None of her family, friends, knew she was staying with him.

At the end of the second week, she realised something. How long had it been since she had her period? The pill would have stopped her cycle, sure, but she should have been back on it by now, right? Then, why the hell wasn't she?

She didn't remember walking to the store while Bob was at work, didn't know how she got there. Her mind was blank as she bought the tests and headed back to Bob. It never hit her how long the walk was, didn't hit her that her legs were aching.

But she sat in the bathroom, looking at the three tests in her hands.

Fucking positive. All of them. She stared and stared, back against the bathtub.

It wasn't real, couldn't have been real.

Time passes weirdly when you're in that sort of state. Unaware of her surroundings she sat there for hours.

She didn't hear it when Bob opened the front door, didn't hear it when Bob called her name. She didn't answer as he ran around, desperately searching for her. Even when he stepped into the bathroom, it was like she didn't know.

Not until he was crouched in front of her, concern written on his face. "Talk to me," he said gently, before he looked down at the plastic sticks in her hands.

He sucked in a sharp breath. As gently as he could, Bob took the tests from her hands. He'd expected that to have her flinching, but she was still. "It's okay," he whispered, placing his hands into her own.

The first tear fell, but she was still silent. Bob was careful as he reached up and wiped it away. When he pulled away, she followed him, chasing after his touch until she was resting against him.

Bob didn't move her from the bathroom floor, not yet. He sat beside her with his back against the bath tub and pulled her into his side. With her head against his chest, she let herself cry. Sobs shook her body, but Bob didn't get go at her, fingers moving up and down her spine.

He didn't say anything, and for that she was grateful. He just let her cry until she had no more tears to fall. And then, when she was still, tears no longer rolling down her cheeks, Bob looked over to the tests he had discarded on the floor.

Positive. They were both positive.

He didn't ask the obvious question, didn't ask her what she wanted to do as he helped her stand and led her to the couch. Her legs shook with every step, and he didn't blame her. He couldn't imagine it, being tied to someone like that.

Especially not someone like Ken.

Bob sat her down and wrapped her in a blanket. He turned towards the kitchen as she pulled the blanket closer, held it tighter. But he didn't get very far before she was grabbing him, pulling him back. "Stay," she croaked, eyes desperate, pleading.

He crouched in front of her and kissed the back of her hand. "Let me get you some water, doll," he whispered, the nickname slipping through.

She nodded and, reluctantly, let go of him. Bob was as quick as he could, poured the water into a mug and walked it back over to her.

He sat beside her and handed the water. Watching the way her hands shook as she lifted it to her lips, he knew he'd made the right choice in the mug.

"Can... we watch something?" She asked, her voice somewhat hesitant.

Bob swallowed down a shuddering breath. "Sure we can," he said, voice soft, as if she was some kind of frightened animal. Essentially, she was. Any louder and Bob was sure she would have been hiding back in the bathroom.

He grabbed the remote from the coffee table and sat back beside her, arm resting on the back of the couch. If she wanted to curl into him he could, but it was completely down to her. "What do you want to watch, Doll?"

"Star Wars?" She asked, looking down at her stolen shirt. How long until it stopped fitting? How long until she had a bump stretching out Han Solo's face? Her eyes shut at the thought.

Bob nodded his head. "What are you thinking, original trilogy or prequels?"

"Not the sequels?"

"I'm gonna pretend you didn't just say that."

She giggled, actually giggled, at him. "Fucking dork," she giggled and leaned against him.

It was a stark contrast to the scene Bob had come home to. She had her head on his shoulder, legs over his lap as they made their way through the original Star Wars trilogy.

Bob opened his mouth, ready to spill some movie trivia, but he held back. That wasn't what she needed now.

"No, say it, Floyd," she mumbled as her fingers absentmindedly played with the bottom of his shirt.

He didn't hold back after that. No, he told her every piece of Star Wars trivia he knew.

After they'd gotten through A New Hope, Bob started on Empire Strikes Back as he went to make dinner. It was simple, just egg on toast. All that mattered to Bob was that she ate it; he could make something proper tomorrow.

But, when he returned to the couch, she was already asleep, curled around the spot where he was. The space was still there for him, ready to slip back into. He let out a sigh as he placed her plate onto the coffee table and gently shook her shoulder. "C'mon, Doll. Y' need to wake up and eat something."

She opened her eyes and stared at him. "There y' are," he said with a small smile. Bob grabbed the plate from the coffee table and placed it in her lap. "Eat up, you can sleep after."

"Okay," she squeaked and dug in.

She didn't finish all of it, but that was okay. As soon as she was done and holding up her stomach, Bob took the plate and put it on the coffee table. He slipped back into his seat and she fell against him once again, promptly falling asleep.

"Ready?" Bob asked as he pulled the truck up around the corner from her old apartment.

The apartment Ken still lived in.

Sucking in a breath, she rested her hand on her swollen stomach and nodded. When had she gotten this big? It was like she had ballooned over night. With every touch the baby was kicking. She couldn't have been that far along yet, could she?

She looked at Bob as his hand came to rest on her bulging stomach.

She nodded and Bob climbed out of the truck. He opened her door, took her hand and helped her step out. "You've got this," he said, his hand squeezing hers.

But she didn't have this. She couldn't have had this. This was maybe the scariest thing she'd ever done.

Bob stayed behind her as she walked up the stairs to her old apartment. Even half way up the stairs she was already exhausted. Bob simply took her hand and supported her to the door of her own apartment.

She couldn't bring herself to knock on the door. She raised her fist, but could go much further than that. Desperately she turned to the man sweet man beside her. "I-I can't."

But Bob was happy to do it for her. He knocked on the door, remaining beside her as Ken pulled the door open.

Ken, who she hadn't spoken to since Bob, Jake and Bradley had saved her from the apartment. She thought it had only been a number of weeks, but, looking at her stomach, it could have been a full nine months.

"Holy shit," said Ken as he crushed the beer can in his hands.

Bob couldn't help but clench his jaw as he looked at Ken. That asshole, the reason she was knocked up and miserable. The baby was probably going to come out with red devil horns, a tail, and a want to set things on fire.

He looked at her, completely ignoring Bob. "She's just here for her stuff," Bob said, but Ken was still ignoring him.

"Come here, Barbie." He reached his hand out towards her and grabbed a hold of her wrists. His grip was so tight, she couldn't pull back if she tried. But she wasn't trying. Why wasn't she trying? Why wasn't she desperate to get away from him?

And why wasn't Bob helping her?

He just watched as Ken pulled her into the apartment and shut the door. Bob was still on the other side of the door when Ken hit her again.

And then she went into labour. Ken watching as she struggled on the floor, Bob on the other side of the door, not trying to get in and help her.

And then she had the screaming, crying bundle in her arms. But, when she looked down at her baby, there were no devil horns and she didn't have a tail. She was a perfect little girl.

But she couldn't protect her from Ken.

Taglist: @nurse-sainz

@not-nyasa

@burningwitchprincess

@darksparklesficrecs

@primroseluna

@littlemsbumblebee

@wretchedmo

@imaginecrushes

@calpalsbestie

@hiireadstuff

@lyn-js

@emma8895eb

@teacupsandtopgun

@finnydraws

@writtingrose

@afriendlyneighbourhoodhufflepuff

@mp0625

@els-marvelvsp

[perfectsunlight]

𝐲𝐨𝐮 [𝟏𝟎]

𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱𝗵𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘂𝗺𝗮, 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝘃𝘆 𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘀𝘁, 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝘃𝘆 𝘀𝘂𝗯𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗮𝗯𝘂𝘀𝗲.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 1.9k

𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀: 𝗴𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗽𝗶𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲

the drugs in her system had decided to place her in the moment she felt happiest – naturally it was one with you from some while ago. 

“do you miss harbin?”

ningning’s gaze met yours through her hooded eyes, gray smoke from the blunt between her fingers dancing in the air as she passed it to you. the two of you were laying on your backs, legs intertwined and sheets disheveled.

the idol shook her head gently in response to your question. “not one bit.” she whispered before moving closer to you, wrapping her arms around your bare torso. 

she smelled like smoke and expensive perfume, and you could make out the subtle hints of her shampoo that she used. her breath against your skin sent the hair on your arms to attention. 

it was like you were used to being hyper aware of ningning’s body whenever it was next to yours.

“you don’t even get homesick?” you whispered, gently running your fingers through her hair. ningning's hazy eyes met yours again. 

“harbin isn’t home.” she said quietly, almost barely audible. “i’ve never had a place that feels like home.”

‘but you feel like home’ was what she wanted to add. but the words died in her throat and for some reason yizhuo felt like they’d never come out. and what came out instead she felt wasn’t arguably better; it was worse.

maybe then she should have realized she loved you. but then again, she never knew what the emotion felt like anyway. how was she supposed to know? 

when ning yizhuo was not much older than the age of 7, she was asked to draw a picture of what the word “love” meant. love was not something she would say her household had. she remembered going to her teacher and asking for help on the assignment, but she would never forget how her instructor described the word to her.

“it’s a lot of things, but it’s a feeling that never goes away, no matter what.”

you were the feeling that never went away. you plagued the young idol’s mind, morning, noon, and night. 

as she sat there, grappling with these thoughts, she couldn't help but wonder if this was what love truly felt like. it wasn't the butterflies or fireworks like she often read about in stories she read as a child. 

it was a constant presence, an ache that lingered even in the quietest moments. 

she glanced at you, your eyes filled with something she refused to admit out loud. but in that moment she realized that maybe, just maybe, this was what love was supposed to be. 

it wasn't easy or perfect, but a feeling that rooted deep within her, refusing to let go for anything. it was takeout dinners and twisted sheets, smoke sessions and midnight conversations with cartoons in the background. it was your laugh, and god your smile.

it was you. you were what love was supposed to be. 

but ning wasn’t lovable. did she know anyone who loved each other?

did her parents even love each other? her mother left her father because she loved him, right? at least that’s what she always heard.

which meant if ning loved you, then she had to leave. but why did it hurt even at just the thought?

she didn’t like the way her stomach churned, or the way her heart suddenly felt like it was being squished against her ribcage at the idea of being anywhere but right here with you. 

yizhuo remembered when she got nauseous when she once saw you in tears over a youtube video with a baby duck getting lost. you both were higher than a kite, and outwardly she made fun of you for acting like such a baby, but she felt her breathing stop when those tears fell from your eyes.

ning now hated two things – the quiet and you crying. especially if she was the reason for it. 

she had been having constant nightmares about that night at the club. yizhuo would never forget it.

ning easily recalled the tears that cascaded down your face in the dimmed light. the bass from the poorly mixed and mastered remix of some 2000’s pop song muffled by the room’s walls. she didn’t remember the name of the girl whose thighs she was in between, or how loud she was being.

but what she did remember perfectly was your reaction. the whole purpose of ning’s stunt was to make you want her more, to finally make you confess how you truly felt, not to drive you away. she thought you’d go rip her away from the other girl and she’d be able to relish in the fact that you needed her.

except she was horribly wrong. 

when she saw you initially, she managed to shoot you the most arrogant smile she could muster in the hopes of making you just jealous enough. however, she failed to realize that there could have been other outcomes to what she did. 

when she fully took in the look on your face, her heart shattered.

there were no words to correctly describe the emotions you displayed. 

furrowed brows, the subtle twitching of your lower eyelid, the way your bottom lip quivered when you finally locked eyes with her. many different emotions could have been used to describe you in that moment, but ning couldn’t quite figure out which ones exactly. 

was it hurt? anger? perhaps a potent mixture of both, laced with the bitter taste of disillusionment. 

but whatever it was, it destroyed whatever it was you shared with her. 

her world went silent when she finally honed in on the tears falling down your face. pain was written all over your features.

everything in you was hurting—all because of her. 

and yizhuo knew it also destroyed you. she destroyed you.

her trance was broken once you left and the other girl started talking to her, to which she completely ignored. the young idol quickly fixed herself up and scrambled looking for her phone to call you. once she realized it was dead, she cursed under her breath and ran out of the bathroom.

“y/n!” she shouted, shoving people out of her way, ignoring the confusion from their faces. ningning knew she looked like a mess, but she didn’t care. 

she fought her way through the sea of bodies and eventually caught a glimpse of the back of your head slipping through the exit. the vocalist used every ounce of energy left in her to try and run after you, but unfortunately it was all in vain.

by the time she made it outside, you were gone.

her knees buckled as she leaned against the wall, tears falling now from her own eyes. she had messed up. and now you were gone.

but you had to feel the same way, right? that’s why you left, that’s why you were upset. 

ningning didn’t notice she had been balling her eyes out while sitting on the floor of her bedroom. she also didn’t remember falling asleep either, and yet there you were, plaguing her dreams like you did her thoughts.

it was more like a film reel of different scenes, almost like a movie. 

in one scene, she found herself standing on a sun-drenched beach somewhere far from seoul. the salty breeze tangled her hair as she reached out to you. the warmth of your embrace enveloped her, sending shivers down her spine as she melted into your arms. 

it was a moment of serenity, and a fleeting glimpse of the happiness she craved more than anything. 

but as quickly as it had come, the scene shifted, morphing into another tableau of intimacy and closeness.

this time, she found herself nestled against your chest in the darkness of her room, the steady rhythm of your heartbeat lulling her into a sense of security she had never known. there was a soft hum from the tv in the background, and not a single ashtray or rolled up blunt in sight. you two must be sober. she must be sober, at least in her dreams. that truly was a dream for her. 

it was a simple moment, but it spoke volumes. even in her forced and fabricated dopamine state, she only wanted you. every single cell in her body screamed for your presence. 

and then, there it was — a moment that truly made her heart stop. 

you, radiant and resplendent in a wedding dress, a vision of ethereal beauty that took ningning's breath away. she was surrounded by different faces, she recognized her members and a few chosen family all bathed in the soft glow of candlelight. 

she could hear muffled sounds of a violin and maybe a piano? the chinese girl couldn’t quite tell. all she was focused on was you in a white dress, standing across from her at an altar. the tears poured from her eyes, both in and out of her dream.

for the first time in what felt like an eternity, she allowed herself to imagine the possibility of a future filled with love and happiness. and it was only possible with you, she was fully convinced.

“ning?”

she didn’t want to leave this moment, or any of the others. she always wanted to sleep, but now she wanted to stay asleep. yizhuo wanted to stay here, trapped in her delusional fantasies of a life with you.

she didn't want to wake up, didn't want to face the harsh reality of a world where you were just out of reach. the real you was probably locking lips with her bandmate somewhere.

but here, in this world of her imagination, you were hers, and she was yours. 

and she was finally happy.

“is she still breathing?”

you looked so beautiful in this light, and god your eyes. they looked full of life, full of happiness. it was written all over your dream-like face. she wanted to kiss you. she wanted to be like those cliche movies and run into the sunset with you next to her. 

however, her dreams were still only just dreams.

her fabricated world slowly morphed into fading tendrils and muffled sound. the chinese girl could feel the outside world manifesting itself into her mind after god knows how long. panic set in once she saw your figure starting to fade as well.

it felt like she couldn’t breathe again. why couldn’t you stay? why did she have to go back to the reality that left you in the arms of someone else?

and then that’s when she heard it.

“yizhuo.”

it was your voice. the sound of your sweet, gentle voice. 

all at once, she awoke in a cold sweat. however, she immediately thought she was dreaming again because you were hovering over her.

“hey, it’s okay, you’re okay.” you said quickly, clearly trying to prevent her from panicking. it took the young idol a few seconds to fully take in her surroundings. a hospital bed, her members surrounding her, a few machines beeping. 

ningning's heart pounded in her chest as she struggled to connect her memories to understand what got her here. a hospital room felt like a stark contrast to the warmth and comfort of her dreams. 

but as she looked up at you, hovering over her with a look of concern etched on your face, a wave of relief washed over her like a tidal wave. 

this wasn't a dream — it was reality, and you were really here, by her side. 

however, she didn’t understand why you were here. what was going on? and why did her head feel like it was splitting in half?

“what happened?”

𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧: @jiihu @silantryoo @rosiehrs @craftymasterlistcomicsprune @skisk1 @jisooftme @babycubchae @yunjinhart @pandamiswifey @jenoteamo @lcv3lies  @pagedpick7 @bexisbomb @lcv3lies @lauxymy4 @justalittledissociation @captivq @jeindall777

[mirisss]

8th member of Enhypen

Pairing: Enhypen OT7 x afab! 8th member! reader

Wordcount ≈ 1.1k

Warnings: reader being stressed, anxious, not eating, nausea, calling reader darling, a suggestive joke or two, 

Summary: Being the 8th member of Enhypen isn’t always easy, luckily the boys are always there to comfort their bandmate, who also happens to be their girlfriend. 

Thanks for the request! Hope you enjoy it! Please reblog! 

Third person POV

The day had been terrible for (Y/n), she had barely slept during the night because of nightmares, during the morning she felt sick so she didn’t eat any breakfast, which in turn, only made her more sick later on in the day. During dance practice (Y/n) kept messing up and the instructors yelled at her for being so “unprofessional”, the boys were worried and Jungwon tried talking to her but she just said “It’s nothing, my legs just don’t want to cooperate with me today,” The boys all felt uneasy but trusted that (Y/n) would tell them if something was actually wrong. During vocal practice (Y/n) kept straining her voice because she was so exhausted that she couldn’t breathe correctly. “(Y/n), if you’re not going to take this seriously you can leave today’s practice. With you messing up so much we might have to cut down your lines for the comeback,” (Y/n) took a deep breath, her whole body was shaking from exhaustion and nausea, “I’m sorry ma’am, I’m trying my best, I just can’t breathe,” “Ma’am, (Y/n)’s been off all day. I think she might be catching a cold or something,” Heesung stepped in, hoping the vocal teacher would back off of (Y/n). “Hmm, really? (Y/n), are you feeling sick?” “I-” (Y/n) didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want to worry the boys nor did she want to be a burden to them. “I’m not feeling too well, no. I couldn’t sleep and have been nauseous most of the day,” As soon as she admitted to not being well, the boys all went into a frenzy. Jay ran up to her and felt her forehead, “She’s warm, she definitely has a fever,” “(Y/n), you should know better. You have to tell the manager when you’re not feeling well or you might make the boys sick or hurt yourself,” The vocal teacher scolded (Y/n), who was becoming more and more light-headed. “Let’s sit down, come on,” Sunoo saw the color fading from (Y/n)’s face and realized that she might collapse unless she sat down. Jay and Jake who were standing closest to (Y/n) helped her sit down on the floor while Niki ran to get her some water. “We’ll end practice here, good job today boys, (Y/n), when you’re feeling better you’re gonna have to practice some more to make up for this lost time. Boys, make sure to get her home safely and get some food in her,” “Thank you, ma’am. I promise we’ll take care of her,” Sunghoon said as he followed the teacher to the door. 

An hour later and the boys had managed to get (Y/n) to drink some water which helped ease her nausea enough for her to walk to the car and get to their dorm. Sunghoon and Jay helped (Y/n) walk over to the couch while the others ordered some food and got some new clothes for her to change into. “Here, I brought you one of my t-shirts,” Heesung said as he handed her a t-shirt that she once said was her favorite of his. “And I brought you some sweatpants, yours, do you want anything else?” Jungwon asked as he gave (Y/n) a pair of her sweatpants. “I don’t know, I don’t even know if I have enough energy to change clothes,” “Need some help?” Jake said in a flirty tone before he chuckled. “Mmm, you know maybe I do, just thinking of having to stand up makes me want to throw up,” “We’ll help you if you want us to, just say the word,” “Thanks Hoon,” “No problem darling,” “We ordered [insert food of choice], it should be here in 15 minutes,” Sunoo said. (Y/n) with the help of Niki, managed to stand up and change her shirt but had to sit down before she could change into the sweatpants. “We could just get a blanket and you won’t have to put on the sweatpants, you’d just have to take off the ones you’re wearing now,” Jay suggested, not intended in a sexual way but rather for (Y/n)’s comfort. “Here, take this one,” Heesung handed her a blanket. “Maybe I should just head to bed,” “(Y/n), you need to eat, you’re not gonna get better unless you eat. So as the leader of Enhypen, I won’t allow you to go to sleep until you have eaten something. And as your boyfriends, we are all really worried about you, how come you wouldn’t talk to us and tell us you weren’t feeling well?” Jungwon said in a stern tone, one he rarely ever used but he was just so worried about (Y/n). “I’m sorry,” “Darling, you don’t have to apologize just please, next time, tell us, so we can help you,” Sunghoon said as he sat down beside (Y/n) to give her a hug. “Honey, we will always be here for you. No matter what,” Sunoo said while he sat down on the side of (Y/n) and draped the blanket over her legs. “Can someone help me pull my pants off? I don’t have the energy to do it myself,” “Of course, can you hold up your legs?” Jake asked as he bent down a little. (Y/n) lifted her legs and Jake along with Niki pulled the pants off while Sunoo readjusted (Y/n)’s blanket. *Ding* “Food is here!” Jay ran over to the door and got the food while everyone sat down. 

The night continued with (Y/n) slowly eating her food, eating too quickly would only spark her nausea again. The group watched a few episodes of a drama they all liked while cuddling. Eventually, (Y/n) fell asleep with her head resting on Sunghoon’s shoulder. So yeah, being the 8th member of Enhypen isn’t always easy but it’s easier when you have seven amazing boyfriends who are ready to help you with anything and everything. 

[finelinevogue]

tough love training

summary - you attend defence training with the most attractive shadowsinger

word count: 2k

a/n: fic is basically what it says on the tin.. i made up a character so you could get mad at someone without them being an existing sjm character!! bit of angst and near death experience in this fic..

It was another day in of training up in Windhaven.

Everyday you still wonder why you had chosen to train here and not at the local self-defence classes down in Velaris, because you weren't exactly the fittest, no thanks to your asthma, and you weren't exactly the bravest.

You had chosen to train with the fiercest instructors to have existed in the Night Court, in order to prove your worth to yourself.

Your whole life your parents hadn't been that loving and would never really acknowledge your presence. But that is how parents treated their offspring in the Court of Nightmares. They would run little experiments on you and treat you as a specimen rather than a daughter. You got used to it over the years but never got over it. Joining this training was an effort to prove to your parents that you were more than a science experiment.

That and you had found yourself incredibly attracted to Azriel, the Shadowsinger.

Azriel had been one of the founders of this training camp, specifically made for women who wanted to gain confidence and self defence skills. His sister-in-law, Nesta, was the one whom had initially come up with the idea and his brother, Rhysand, had funded the activities.

Azriel and Cassian joined as instructors without hesitation, knowing how sparse training for women was across the courts.

You and around 10 other females stood in a semi circle in front of Nesta, Cassian and Azriel, awaiting instructions for the morning session.

"Okay, listen up! Today we are going to do one on one combat. You lose, you're benched for the rest of the season." Nesta explained.

“Winner gets to skip the 10km run tomorrow.” Cassian added the prize, earning a round of cheers and excited nods.

"Choose partners and then let's go." Azriel finished off the talk and then you were off to find your close friend, Gwyn.

On your way over to your ginger-haired friend, someone aggressively nudged you. You didn’t need to turn around to guess who it was, but when you did you weren’t shocked to see Lia standing there unkindly smiling.

Lia had had an issue with you ever since she figured out your crush on Azriel. She, too, had a mad crush on him but to the creepy point of bringing him gifts all the time and holding onto his biceps without permission. Maybe Azriel liked her back, who knows?

"Can I help you? " You questioned Lia, looking around to see if anyone has noticed.

"Let’s be partners." You looked around to see if anyone else wasn't partnered up, but unfortunately Gwyn had partnered up with someone else having thought you were going with Li today. You sighed. "It also looks like you don't have a choice."

"Fine. But push me like that again..." You were cut off.

"Lia? A word?" It was Azriel. "Make your way over to the training mat Y/N. Lia will be over in a minute."

You couldn't get any words out so you just nodded your head, making your way over to your area. Looking back at Lia and Azriel you expected them to be flirting, but instead found Azriel angrily pointing a finger at Lia. You had no idea what it was about but Lia looked quite sheepish after Azriel was finished talking.

Lia walked over to you with her head held lower than its usual prideful self. "Listen Y/N. I think I'm gonna work with Cassian today. Azriel said he wants to intensify my training."

Lia didn't look you in the eyes, but you were glad she would be gone. You nodded and walked over to a bench in your training area, taking a quick drink before walking over to the punch bags. If you couldn't do one on one combat then you would just have to tirelessly punch a bag instead.

You heard footsteps behind you and thinking it was Lia back for a second bite, you sighed and asked. "Can I help you?"

"I should be the one asking you that." Azriel chuckled with that charming smile, making you turn around with a blush on your cheeks for your tone of voice.

“Azriel… I…”

"Also that’s an extra 1km tomorrow for being cocky with me." You rolled your eyes and turned back around. "Don't make it 5." He said firmly.

You turned around smiling and went back to punching the bag. You didn't have much upper body strength, or any for that matter, so it made punching the bag a lot harder and painful than anticipated. However, that was the whole reason you were here - to build muscle and improve your self defence.

You heard Azriel sigh behind you. "You're weak today."

"Yeah I've heard that my whole life, yet it's still not done anything to solve the issue." You stopped punching the bag and turned around to face Azriel, crossing your arms in the process with annoyance.

"Well that's only because they haven't helped you find your strengths." Azriel smiled.

"What, and you're willing to?"

"Yes, actually."

"Listen Azriel. I’ve been bossed around my whole life and I don’t need someone new mansplaining my whole life away. If I end up nearly dead on a battlefield then I might need a few pointers. but for now I'm going to fight on my own."

You turned back around to start punching again, but Azriel caught your wrists before you could swing at the punchbag. Not only did his touch deliciously burn your skin, but when he pulled you closer to him your whole body set aflame from how warm and comforting he felt. His warm eyes looked down upon you and you licked your lips to looked away before he could truly read you.

"Y/N. I don't think you heard me correctly when I said I will help you. Normally people don't turn down an opportunity for help." He gave you a questioning look.

"Well then I’ll be your first." You tried turning around but Azriel still had a firm, but gentle, grasp on your arm.

"Stop being stubborn." Azriel almost shouted at you. "Y/N I want you to progress with these sessions... I... I... need you to be that good that you won’t end up nearly dead on a battlefield." You'd never seen Azriel so choked up on his words.

As he was talking he started to let go of your hands so they fell back by your sides, his skin still burning beautifully in the after-feeling. You stared at him blankly. What did he mean? What did "need" mean to him? Was it possible he might like you too?

"Need?" You quietly ask.

You stared at him hoping to catch his eyes. Azriel just coughed quietly and brushed his hand over his mouth. He then quickly departed the scene and left you wondering what the Mother that was all about.

••••

It was later in the evening that you found yourself in the training area again.

You continuously punched the punchbag, your hands slightly bleeding from the blows. One punch for your mother. One punch for your father. One punch for your messed up childhood. One punch for being weak. One punch for the inevitability of becoming nobody. One punch for Azriel. The last punch was enough to set you off crying.

You rested your forehead on the punching bag and cried softly to yourself, your hands and body tired and weak.

"It’s pathetic how hard your try, only to fail.”

Your head whipped around to see Lia standing there, watching you like you were the most pathetic being alive.

"I haven’t failed." You stood up straight and wiped the tears from your eyes with your bloodied hands. You weren’t going to let Lia see you for what she believed you were; weak.”

"Don't lie to yourself, Y/N." She chuckled. "You have two options. Either you quit these sessions and make it easier for yourself. Or you one on one combat me, right now, and prove to me you're worth more than what I know you are."

“I’m worth more than you think.”

“Aww is that what Azriel’s been telling you?” She cooed. Your heart tweaked at the mention of Ariel’s name.

You heavily sighed, not going to let her taunt you anymore.

You were ready to walk a tightrope over a cavern or jump out of a tall building, but no. Just as you were feeling your weakest you would have to fight. "Ohh. Is that a sigh of defeat?"

"No. I accept your challenge." You looked her dead in the eyes whilst tightening the bandages around your wrists, wincing as you did so.

You both took your starting stances on the combat mat, trying to control your breathing for what may come next.

Lia made the first jab right into your throat which threw your balance off, and gave Lia the chance to kick your legs from underneath you. You plummeted to the ground with force and let out an oomph when you landed on your ribs. "Wow. I mean, that couldn't have been more pathetic."

Lia was expecting you to not stand back up. So you did.

"I'm not done yet." You said, wiping away the sweat on your forehead.

"Alright, but this time last longer than 2 seconds." Lia chuckled.

She ran towards you and you could tell she was aiming for your stomach, but your were quick enough move around her and kick her legs from underneath her. You smiled to yourself as she landed on the floor harshly.

You turned around and shook off your hands, feeling a little more confident now that it was a tie. As you were congratulating yourself you didn't see Lia run up behind you and grab and pull your neck. She started to squeeze and cut the air off from your lungs.

“What you gonna do now? Huh?" Lia chuckled.

You wanted to tap your hands against her arms, as you would do in training, to let her know that you quit because you couldn’t breathe, but she had your arms locked in place too.

Your felt your face flush red as her hold on your neck was too tight. Your eyes watered as you tried your best to move and wiggle your way out of this hold, but nothing was working.

“Gah…” You tried to speak, but only a mutter of sounds fell from your lips.

“What was that? You trying to say something? No one is going to hear your shouts even if you could speak. You’re fucking alone, Y/N. Remember?”

"Is she?” Was the final thing you heard someone say, before your body gave out on you and the world turned black.

••••

You could feel the wind softly blowing on you whilst the birds sang their morning songs.

That's when you realised that you were not in your normal bedroom, but rather someone else's bed. You sat up in alarm and threw your legs over the side of the bed. Too busy to take in your surroundings, you stood up for quickly only to get hit with a spell of dizziness. Luckily someone's strong arms caught you before you could fall forwards.

"Woah. You need to be careful Y/N. You took a hit yesterday." Azriel spoke down to you, his arms warm and strong around your body.

He guided you to sit on the edge of the bed, him following.

You tried to speak but your throat hurt too much. Before you could even signal to Azriel for some water, he was holding a glass for you with his hand that wasn’t still holding onto your waist for support. You drank the water with a small wince as it passed your throat.

“Thank you.” You whispered, not being able to bring yourself to look at him.

“How are you feeling?” He asked in return, taking the glass back off you. Your fingers started to play with each other, picking at your nails anxiously.

“O-okay.” You nodded.

“Lia has been banned from the training programme and Rhys has her on community service for the rest of her life.” Azriel explained. “I would’ve put in her prison, personally, but…”

“If anyone should’ve been banned from the programme it’s me.” You picked extra hard at your nails, only to have Ariel’s hands cover yours to stop you. You heartbeats picked up at the gentle touch.

“Why would you say that?” You turned to see Ariel’s eyebrows furrowed and eyes full of sorrow.

“Because Lia was right. I-I am pathetic and if I can’t defend myself in training, I don’t see the point in trying anymore.” You watched his eyes watch yours with intensity.

“You should know your words hurt me.” Azriel kept focus on you and it was hard to look away.

“How so?”

“Because the idea of you being cruel to yourself is just as painful as watching you slip out of consciousness yesterday. It’s the same pain.”

“But why? I don’t understand…”

Your lips were shortly cut off with Azriel’s on yours. You were taken aback by how soft the fearful Shadowsinger’s lips were against yours, but slowly melted into the kiss. Azriel was careful not to knock your bruised back, but he did not hold back from kissing your existence out of you.

He slowly pulled away with apprehension, whilst you licked your lips to continue revelling in his sweet taste.

“Do you understand now?” He asked.

“You only did that because I talk too much.” You smirked, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

"Shut up, you!" Azriel laughed with you, before kissing you once more. His lips felt so right against yours, even if the thought of this beautiful male was attracted to you seemed so wrong. You could and would kiss him for days if this happy and bright feeling in your chest remained.

"What does this mean to you?" You shyly asked, reluctantly pulling away from his lips to hear his answer.

"Everything.” He nodded with a smile. “Ever since day one I've felt this unexplainable pull towards you. Now, I understand why.“

You smiled lovingly as he carefully took the back of your head and brought you in for a hug. You rested your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes, knowing you were safe here and had more than one reason to continue training.

[dyns33]

Down the Pit - Part 2

I think I'll make like 5 or 6 part for this story. While writing other Bane's stories, because I love the man.

Tag : @jaxitaxibolehlaf (I remembered, I hope you'll like it)

It had been almost five years since Y/N had left the Pit.

The world had continued to turn, she had found a new job, a bigger apartment, but nothing made sense anymore.

Out of curiosity, Y/N had done some research on Ra's al ghul, but it had yielded nothing. No information either on the infernal prison of India, on Talia or Bane.

She held out hope that just typing these names into Google or whispering them in the street would one day bring them up, since the ninja leader had found her that way the first time.

It was also possible, even certain, that he had never lost sight of her since. Y/N didn’t feel like she was being monitored, but they were probably very good at it. It wouldn't make any difference if she indicated that she wanted them to show themselves, they would stay hidden.

Maybe if they made a lot of noise, they would have moved. By going to an independent journalist to tell them her whole story, with the certainty that he would publish even if she had no proof to offer.

But they would find a way to make it all disappear. They would kill the journalist, and maybe they would kill her too.

So Y/N waited, without really waiting, remaining alone with her memories and her nightmares.

However, she didn't think about all that at all when someone knocked on her door and she went to open it without looking at who it was.

The girl was brunette, her hair tied in a messy ponytail. Her large almost black eyes stared at her while her face remained impassive. The clothes she wore were slightly too big, as if she didn't know how to dress or had grabbed what she could. She couldn't have been more than thirteen or fourteen.

It's been almost five years. But it only took a moment, a brief moment, for Y/N to forget how to breathe, taking the girl into her arms.

“Talia !” she cried, hugging her tightly. "Talia, I'm so happy to see you. I missed you so much !"

"… I missed you too." the little girl whispered, shyly returning her embrace.

Obviously, her father didn't hold her often. The master of the League of Shadows, as Talia told her it was called, preferred to train her so that she would be ready to take his place when the time came.

It wasn't really the life Y/N would have wanted for the little girl she had practically raised in the Pit. It had nothing to do with the bedtime stories she told her.

While eating chocolate for the first time, Talia told her about what she was learning from her instructor, a man named Barsad. The girl didn't like him too much, because he was too strict and he had vulture eyes according to her.

In addition to basic lessons like writing, math, and geography, Talia learned to fight, kill, manipulate weak minds, lead troops of soldiers, and many other things a child of her age shouldn't have to learn.

Locked in a temple in the Himalayas, she had only seen the things Y/N had told her about in pictures. Except the snow. There was a lot of snow, an intense cold, absolutely not alleviated by the people around her.

That was why Talia had decided to look for Y/N as soon as she had the chance. Her father had told her that she had abandoned her, leaving her in his care while begging to be sent home, and with the promise that she would never hear from the child again.

"I believed him… I was young and stupid. I hated you for a long time, and then I realized that he must have been lying, because you would never have done that ! You wouldn't have left me. When Barsad told me I was going on my first overseas mission, I knew it was time."

Thanks to everything he had taught her, it was easy to escape the surveillance of Barsad and his men. After finding a disguise, Talia had managed to get to Gotham without attracting attention, until she found Y/N's apartment.

It might have been difficult, but with her training, stalking someone was perfectly natural.

In addition to the need to see Y/N again, Talia also wanted to see the world she had dreamed of so much when she was in the Pit.

The plane had scared her a little, she wasn't sure she liked the city with all the noises, the smells, the lights, but seeing so many people was fascinating for her.

The feeling of new freedom was exhilarating. She could go wherever she wanted, whenever she wanted, talk to whoever she wanted, eat whatever she wanted… And Talia wanted it all.

"I want to watch TV ! I want to dance ! I want to go to the beach !" the little princess of shadows almost ordered, jumping around in circles in the living room. “Now, now, now !”

"Calm down, Talia. You should probably call your father, he'll be worried."

"I don't care ! He lied to me. I want to try pizza."

"And… What about Bane ? Have you heard from Bane ?" Y/N asked with a bit of fear.

Talia stopped jumping, staring at her with a serious look. For a moment, Y/N trembled, thinking that she was going to tell her that he was dead, or that Ra's al ghul had refused to go get him.

"Bane… is fine. I'll call him."

There were many things her father had denied her, but going to save the man who had kept her safe since birth didn't seem possible.

Since he was strong and intelligent, as well as being completely devoted to Talia, it was decided that he could be useful, and he was allowed to join the League of Shadows. He quickly became an important member, earning the title of lieutenant.

Talia didn't see him often, at least not as often as she would have liked. As if he didn't want them to be together, her father sent Bane on missions outside the temple very regularly, and when he didn't have to report, he trained the new recruits.

Obedient, because he owed him his life and respect, the giant still found time to come and see Talia training. He asked Barsad, whom he treated like a brother, to give him news and watch over her in his absence.

Shyly, the girl admitted that he hadn't spoken about Y/N once since he was taken out of the Pit. No questions, no worries. Perhaps he also believed that she had abandoned them, or perhaps he had understood that their leader did not want her to be part of their lives.

The call was quick, calm. Talia gave the address where she was, firmly requesting that Bane and no one else come pick her up. No doubt she wanted to offer them a moment alone, all three of them, like before.

The tension was almost palpable when three knocks were given on the door. As Y/N took a deep breath, she was held back by the girl, who stared at her with great seriousness, but also what looked like fear.

“Promise me you’ll always love him.”

"… What ?"

"You love Bane. Nothing has changed."

"Of course. Why are you so worried ? Do you think… Do you think he doesn't want to be here ?"

"He'll be the happiest of all. Promise me."

Y/N promised her. She understood better the reasons for this insistence when she opened the door.

Taller than she remembered, Bane stood still until she invited him inside. Like his pupil, his eyes showed nothing, the only part of his face visible between a hat and a huge scarf.

It wasn't exactly cold outside, but since he was coming from a snowy mountain, Y/N figured he didn't have time to check the temperature of Gotham.

As he greeted Talia, he seemed to hesitate. It was not polite to keep his face hidden like that. With a gesture of her head, the young girl gave him a silent order. Then the presence of the scarf was clear.

The mask was strange. Impossible to say if it was so complicated and imposing for technical reasons, or also in order to scare.

For a moment, Y/N was afraid. But not because of Bane. More for him, wondering why he had that horrible mask, what had happened to him, but not knowing if she had the right to ask such a thing.

When he first spoke, his voice was weird, distorted. The pronunciation was also not normal. Sparing her any torture, between asking and staying in the dark.

"The other prisoners didn't accept that I help you escape. With everyone against me, I didn't have the slightest chance. But the doctor finished the job, trying to treat me."

“You… Are you in pain ?”

"No."

She wanted to know more, but Y/N decided now wasn’t the time. She would see later if he could remove it or if it might kill him. It didn't matter anyway, as she had promised Talia.

Instead, she held him in her arms, as she had held the child, letting her tears fall. This seemed to scare the giant, but he stood still, letting her do so.

"I missed you both so much. I'm so happy you're here."

"… Habibi." he whispered, his head leaning slightly to rest against hers.

The separaton was not easy.

Talia did not want to leave, while fully understanding that her father would not accept her staying. There would be consequences. Bane knew it too, and he was more adult, even if Y/N sometimes felt his hand brushing against hers, hesitant to take it.

No doubt he wouldn't have had the will to let go of her if he had given in.

Before agreeing to return to the temple, the young girl called her father, to present an absolutely insincere apology, promising to focus on her training, if in exchange she had the right to stay in contact with Y/N.

Ra's agreed, reluctantly. He knew nothing could stop his child anyway.

"We'll be back soon. I'll call you every day."

"You promise ?"

"Yes !" Talia said solemnly with bright eyes.

"The master agreed for you to come back. He didn't say anything about me."

"You are my protector. You will have to come with me, that's logical."

Translation, her father would have no choice. He had managed to separate them once, he wouldn't have that chance again. And since he was clever, he saw that the compromise was fair.

His daughter would continue to follow her destiny, as the future leader of the League of Shadows, not sticking to Bane when she was with her followers, but she would have the small freedom to see him and be with Y/N when she went in Gotham, from time to time.

All that remained was to define this time.

But since Y/N had waited five years, she was willing to wait a few more months, knowing now that they were fine, and that she could call them if she missed them too much.