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slaybestieslay946 · 3 months

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Everything About You - Luke Castellan

Summary: You've been Luke Castellan's closest friend ever since he arrived at camp, but unbeknownst to you, he's been desperately crushing on you this whole time. And of course, the feelings are reciprocated. In hopes of getting over you, he agrees to give it a go with someone else. Will he realise how you feel before its too late?

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Ares!Reader

Warning: Swearing

Word Count: 4.9k

a/n: uh sorry for shitting on that demeter girl sm, there needed to be some conflict somewhere

also please forgive me for this fic being crazy self-indulgent and therefore not up to par with my usual writing, i needed to express the obsession i have w this man otherwise I'd go INSANE

MASTERLIST

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You thought you knew everything about Luke Castellan.

After 5 years of being best friends, how could you not? You knew about the big things in his life, his damaged mother, the strained relationship with his father. You understood his anger towards the gods, the way it fuelled him to be better, work harder.

You knew about the little things too. He liked green olives, not black ones. He always stuck his leg out from under the duvet when sleeping. He sucked at tightening his armour, always convincing you to do it for him.

You could recognise each and every one of his tells. He always cracked his knuckles before sparring. He scratched the back of his neck when he was nervous.

But the one thing you didn’t know about him was the way he felt about you. You, who was normally so observant, was entirely oblivious to the gentle touches and soft looks he threw your way. And that, more than anything, was driving him crazy.

“You gotta tell her how you feel man.” Chris said to him, noticing the way his gaze would constantly stray to the Ares table. Your table.

Luke scoffed, “Yeah, right. I’d rather die…”

“Yeah, well it’s driving me nuts. All this pining. It’s-”

“Pathetic? Tell me about it.” He responded, not taking his eyes off you.

“Well, yeah. It’s pathetic. At this point, either confess your undying love, or move on.”

Luke could safely say that neither of those options sounded particularly appealing.

“There’s that new girl, y’know the one in Demeter?” Chris continued.

“What about her?”

“She’s pretty cute, don’t you think?”

Luke tore his gaze away from you to look at the girl Chris was on about. She was pretty, sure, with pale blond hair and flushed cheeks. He recognised her as one of the girls that would always sit in the fields and entertain the kids with her flower magic. But still, she couldn’t hold a candle to you.

“Yeah, she’s fine I guess.” Luke responded, noncommittal.

“See, told you so! Look, how about I set you guys up-”

“No thanks.”

“Ugh, you're no fun. Fine, just talk to the Demeter girl at the campfire tomorrow.”

Luke opened his mouth again to refuse, but Chris cut him off.

“And if you do, I’ll stop bugging you about it. Promise.”

Luke looked at his pleading face, and knew that there would be no shutting him up until he agreed.

“Fine. I’ll talk to her.”

The next morning, Luke woke up earlier than normal, so he figured he might as well get some extra training in before capture the flag in the afternoon.

He climbed out of bed as quietly as possible, not wanting to disturb his many, sleeping, half-siblings, and grabbed his sword, stepping out of the cabin into the fresh morning air. He jogged down towards the amphitheatre, and was confused for a moment when he could hear movement inside the small arena.

Then, as he walked closer to the entrance, he realised it was you, slashing dummies left right and centre. And, gods, the sight took his breath away.

The early morning sun shone on your face, highlighting your sharp features. You moved like a dancer, and the sword in your hand was merely an extension of your body. Yes, they called him the best swordsman in the last 300 years, but his technique couldn’t compare to the grace of the favourite daughter of Ares.

He watched you for a few more minutes, standing just in the entrance to the amphitheatre, until he realised it might be a little creepy to stand there and watch you, so he decided to make himself known.

“What are you doing up so early?” He called out, striding forwards towards you.

You quickly spun around, a shocked expression on your face that softened into a fond smile when you realised it was just Luke who had snuck up on you.

“Oh, y’know, just preparing to beat your ass later on.”

“Aw, really? Hate to break it to you, but you don’t stand a chance.”

“Wanna test that, soldier?” You smirked, gesturing to the sword in this hand.

Luke laughed, stabbing the sword into the sandy floor and cracking his knuckles, meanwhile you took up an offensive stance.

And, as soon as he picked up his sword, you were on him, ruthlessly slashing through the air, and he barely had enough time to block the blow before you sliced through his face. He returned your strikes with equal vigour, moving with the precision and technique that he was so famous for.

With the way the pair of you fought, anyone would think you hated one another, trading blow for violent blow, both of you refusing to hold back.

Of course, it was the complete opposite, but that had never stopped the pair of you from sparring so aggressively.

The session went on for close to half an hour, neither of you wanting to surrender to the other. Eventually you were bested, as Luke sent your sword flying from your hand, holding his own up to your throat.

You held your hands up in defeat, rolling your eyes at him, before moving to sit down at the edge of the arena.

“I’m still gonna win in capture the flag today.” You remarked, your voice strained from physical exercise, but jovial nonetheless.

“As talented as you are,” He responded, sitting down next to you, “You're not gonna be able to beat Annie’s new strategy.”

“And what might that be?” You said, shuffling closer to the boy.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He teased.

You pretended to sulk at that, turning your body away from him in the process. Luke frowned, pulling your arm to turn you to face him again.

“Don’t be sad. Even if I told you you still wouldn’t win.”

“Whatever. Asshole.” You mumbled.

“What did you call me?” He asked, accusatory, and you quickly made your escape, running out of the amphitheatre to avoid his wrath.

But, of course, he managed to catch up with you easily, slinging an arm around your shoulders as you walked.

Somehow, you both telepathically communicated a need for breakfast, and your feet naturally led you both to the pavilion.

“I’ll see you later on, yeah?” You asked, detaching yourself from him to look him in the eyes.

“Mhm. Can’t wait to kick your ass.”

You laughed, cocking your head at him, “Why are you thinking about my ass Castellan? Bit weird.”

And then you were striding away towards Clarisse, leaving the Hermes cabin counsellor frozen, a faint blush covering his face.

Maybe Chris was right. His addiction to you was getting slightly out of hand.

“That boy is so obsessed with you.” Clarisse muttered, her voice derisive as you sat down opposite her.

“Who? Luke?”

“Who else?”

“Nah, no way.” You responded, chuckling as you grabbed a slice of toast from the centre of the table.

Clarisse rolled her eyes. How oblivious could you be?

“Whatever. As long as your little romance doesn’t get in the way this afternoon.”

“No chance. Besides, there is no romance. Gods, you’re just as bad as Silena!” You laughed, slightly sheepishly.

“Rude. But still, she’s right about these things like 90% of the time.”

Silena had been trying to get you to admit that you liked Luke for months, but each time she brought it up you would staunchly deny it. Of course, you were lying through your teeth, but it’s not like you could just admit something like that. It would open up a whole can of worms that you didn’t need.

“Yeah, well this is the 10% then.” You shrugged, taking another bite of your toast.

“You’re impossible.”

“Aw, don’t be like that. You know I’m your favourite sibling.”

“You were my favourite. I don’t know anymore.”

“Bitch.”

When Ares and Hermes were on opposing teams, suddenly capture the flag became even more serious.

Ares, of course, was the warrior cabin. Their father was the god of war, making them the most feared in combat. And, most of Camp half-blood was scared shitless of you and Clarisse.

Then there was Hermes, and their automatic alliance with Athena. That meant they had Luke, the camp's star swordsman, and Annabeth and her siblings, who always came up with the best strategies.

It was safe to say that when they weren’t competing against each other, it was painfully boring.

You only had about half an hour before the game started, so after you had secured your armour and recovered your sword from the amphitheatre, you decided to seek out Annabeth, both because you enjoyed her company, and because she may spill something about her new strategy.

“Hey, Annabeth!” You called out, and the young girl spun around to give you a little smile.

“Hey. What’s up?”

“Nothing. Just wanted to see how things are going over here, y’know, scope out the competition.”

“I’m not gonna tell you our strategy.” She deadpanned.

“Damnit. Oh well. What’ve you been up to, I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.”

It was true, you hadn’t spoken to Annabeth for a few days, nor had you even seen her.

“She’s been too busy stalking the new kid.” Luke’s voice interjected and he stepped out of seemingly nowhere to pat the girl's head.

“Shut up! No I haven’t.” She sulked, pushing him off of her.

“Wait, which new kid is this? Percy?” You asked.

You’d seen Luke show the boy around camp. You’d been briefly introduced, but you hadn’t spoken to him all that much. The only other thing you knew about him was that Clarisse had a bit of an issue with him. Well, she had an issue with a lot of people, so that wasn’t exactly new.

“Yep. Can you believe it? My little sister has a crush!” Luke exclaimed, holding a hand to his chest.

Annabeth then gave him a small shove, before something clearly occurred to her, and she gave him that look that meant she had something on him. And whatever the blackmail was, it worked as he immediately held his hands up in surrender.

“Sorry, sorry! You could never like a boy, I know that!”

Annabeth didn’t respond, simply glaring at him whilst you laughed. Sometimes, she really was intimidating. Despite being only 12 years old, she had a stare harsher than medusa.

“Anyway. You need to get going, otherwise you're definitely gonna lose.” Luke said, pushing you away by your breastplate.

“Fine.” You said, and were about to walk away when you noticed his own armour, as usual, wasn't done up properly.

You walked back towards him, sighing, and grabbed the straps on either side of his body, pulling them taut, doing the same for the guards on his forearms.

“You seriously need to learn how to do these yourself, soldier. One day, I might not be here to do them for you.”

“That’s not true. You’ll always be with me.” He whispered, more hopeful than certain about his statement.

You just rolled your eyes, grabbing his helmet out of his hands to push it on his head.

“There. Can’t have someone hurting your pretty face, can we?”

“Uh-”

“Bye, have fun losing!” You laughed, and then you were walking away, once again leaving a malfunctioning Luke in your wake.

“And you say I have a crush.” Annabeth snorted.

“Shut up.”

Pretty much as soon as you made it back to your team, the conch sounded, and Clarisse shouted at you to ‘get your ass over here’.

She then quickly outlined her plan to you as you both made your way deeper into the woods, the rest of your team splitting off at different points as you went.

You two, as well as a few others, were to be on the offensive, searching for the flag, meanwhile the rest of your team were either guarding the flag, or serving as distractions. It was a pretty typical strategy, but it had every chance of working, as long as you two were able to work out roughly where the other team's flag was.

“Well, I’m pretty sure it won’t be at Zeus’ fist this time, that’s where Annabeth put it last time, and apparently she has a new strategy.”

“She could be lying to you?”

“Yeah, I guess. But it’s a place to start.” Clarisse reluctantly agreed, and the two of you moved further into the woods.

Along the way you came across a few of the blue team on border patrol, and the pair of you quickly disarmed them, you with your sword, and Clarisse with her electric staff.

You made your way down to the south edge of the woods, and it appeared that the number of blue troops were decreasing. Normally you would take that as meaning the flag wasn’t this way, but knowing Annabeth that could be some kind of purposeful bluff, so you kept going, until eventually you reached a dead end and had to choose a different direction.

“Ugh, the others better be closer than us I swear. I’m not losing again.” Your sibling said, batting aside a tree branch with her crackling staff.

“Yeah. I’m sick of having to listen to Castellan gloat.” You sighed, although the noise was more fond than anything else.

Clarisse rolled her eyes at your inability to keep him out of a conversation.

Then, there was a sudden noise of people crashing through the trees. You both raised your weapons, ready to defend yourselves, when you realised that they wore red helmets and were in fact, your siblings.

“Oi, Clarisse, we heard some of them talking that they’ve got the flag down at the creek! And that brat Jackson’s guarding it!”

You noticed the way Clarisse’s eyes filled with anger (and a little bloodlust).

“You keep going,” She said, “I’ll check it out with them.” She then patted you on the back and spun around, sprinting off into the woods.

“DUMBASS! IT’S PROBABLY A TRAP!” You yelled, cupping your free hand to your mouth, but either she didn’t hear you, or she didn’t care, because she gave no response.

You sighed, unable to believe how gullible your sister could be sometimes. But, you had nothing better to do than keep searching for the flag, so you kept walking, slashing through the undergrowth with your sword as you went.

Eventually you felt like you had covered the entire forest, and at a certain point you weren’t entirely sure if you were still in enemy territory or not.

That was until Luke Castellan burst into the clearing holding your flag.

“Fancy seeing you here.” He smirked.

“Asshole.” You snapped, immediately leaping at him, sword in hand, just as you had during sparring that morning. God he loved your temper.

You then began to battle one another with even more zeal than earlier, your slashes quicker and your blows harder as you moved. It was strange the way you two sparred, it was like as soon as you were in combat you forgot that he was your closest friend and that you would die for him in a heartbeat. Instead all you could think about was winning.

He was so annoyingly graceful as he moved, each swish of his sword perfectly calculated to hit at a certain spot, each block and parry almost perfectly executed.

Of course, your anger at his flawless technique was only further intensified when you realised that one: he didn’t have a shield, and two: he was holding his sword in his non-dominant hand, with the flag in his dominant one.

You ground your teeth at that. How could you expect to ever beat him if he held his own so easily? Whenever you watched Luke Castellan fight, you couldn’t help but wonder how he was a son of Hermes, and not a son of Athena or Ares.

And, as always, he defeated you eventually.

He threw a blow at you that you couldn’t quite block, and the force of it sent you toppling backwards, and landing on your ass. He quickly lunged down too, pinning you to the floor and holding his sword to your throat, so close that it almost broke skin.

“Do you surrender?” He asked, grinning smugly down at you, and you couldn’t help but notice just how close his face was to yours.

“Never.” You spat, furrowing your eyebrows at him.

He sighed fondly, before moving upwards to press a quick kiss to your forehead and saying, “You’re so cute, y’know that?”

Now it was your turn to be left malfunctioning, your face bright red with astonishment as he leapt off of you, and ran away into the forest, leaving you behind, on the floor, and completely and utterly frozen.

And then you came back to your senses, pushing yourself off the floor and chasing after him.

“LUKE CASTELLAN, YOU MOTHERFUCKER!” You screamed, sprinting through the woods as fast as you could, but you knew there was nothing you could do to catch up, and you could faintly hear him laughing as those stupid long legs carried him over into friendly territory.

It appeared that a lot had happened during that game of capture the flag.

Luke had gotten your flag, and was about to go over and taunt Clarisse about it, but he immediately saw that she was even angrier than usual, and seemed genuinely upset.

He quickly went over to ask Annabeth what was going on, watching as you ran over to console her.

“Percy broke her staff.” She said, pointing to the shattered piece of wood in Clarisse’s right hand.

Luke winced. He knew how precious the girl was about that staff; it was the only token she had from her father. He was surprised Percy was even still breathing right now.

“Wait, where is Percy?” Luke asked.

“With Chiron. He got claimed.”

“What? By who-?”

“Posiedon.”

The boy’s jaw dropped.

“You’re joking. No fucking way.”

“Tell me about it. He could be the one, Luke.” The younger girl said, her voice quiet and hopeful.

“Hm. He could be. Don’t get your hopes up too high though, yeah?”

Annabeth sighed, but nodded nonetheless.

Luke then gave her a quick pat on the shoulder, before beginning to walk away, intending to get a shower in before dinner, but Annabeth quickly stopped him in his tracks.

“Where are you going? It’s dinner, silly!”

“What, no it’s not-”

“Yes, it is. Campfire tonight, remember? Early dinner? C’mon, you’ve only been here for what, five years?”

Luke groaned, and suddenly all the adrenaline from Percy being claimed, and from winning capture the flag melted away, as he remembered the deal he had made with Chris the night before.

He traipsed behind the daughter of Athena on the way to the dining pavilion, suddenly dreading the rest of the evening.

As the pair entered the building, a cheer went up from the Hermes and Athena table, a few of their respective siblings rushing over to give them pats on the back and congratulations for their efforts.

Luke laughed along with them, eventually being dragged away from his sister to his own table.

Then dinner began, and it was as loud and raucous as usual, maybe even more so coming off the back of a capture the flag victory. But Luke was unusually quiet, pushing his food around his plate and taking the odd sullen bite. He could feel Chris’ eyes on him, probably pissed off he was sulking again, but he didn’t really care.

He could also feel another gaze on him, and he looked up, expecting it to be you, giving him a feeble glare or mouthing some stupid insult. But instead it was the girl from the Demeter table, twisting a lock of hair around her finger and smiling sweetly at him.

The boy felt slightly disappointed, but masked it with a grin of his own, winking at the girl before returning to his food.

He felt that strange sinking feeling in his stomach as he continued to eat, but decided to push it away. What choice did he have? It’s not like you’d ever reciprocate his feelings, so maybe Chris was right and he should give someone else a chance. Besides, how bad could it be?

As it turned out, it could be really bad.

Ok, maybe that was an overstatement. Really boring was probably more accurate.

As soon as they got to the campfire, Chris disappeared, but not before practically shoving Luke down beside the girl from Demeter, who let out a high-pitched giggle as he fell into her slightly.

And gods he wished he hadn’t agreed to his friends stupid plan. Because he then had to spend the rest of the evening being obnoxiously flirted with. And sure, she was nice, and quite pretty, but not in the way that mattered.

She didn’t take his breath away like you did. He couldn’t imagine searching for her face in a crowd. The whole thing was just dull.

And her laughter was grating. Really grating. There was no way she thought he was that funny, especially when he was giving mostly one word responses.

They had nothing in common. She liked lounging about in fields, playing games and making flower crowns, whereas Luke couldn’t think of anything worse. He’d much rather spend an afternoon sparring, or at archery, or even swimming in the lake.

All the things you liked to do.

He tried to push the thought to the back of his mind. He shouldn’t be thinking about you, not whilst another girl was clamouring for his attention. It was cruel. But he couldn’t help himself.

And eventually he gave in, switching off from the conversation and settling for observing you through the flames.

Your hair was down right now, like it only ever was at dinners and in the early morning. You lounged back comfortably on the benches, smiling lazily and joking around with Clarisse and Silena. Your face was lit up by the flickering flames, complimenting you so well, like they just wanted to be near you, close to you. He couldn’t blame them.

And then your eyes met his across the fire, and he thought his heart was about to combust with the way you smiled at him. He recognised that smile. It was the one you reserved just for him.

At that moment he steeled his resolve to reject this Demeter girl, grab on to you and never let go.

But as he was about to do just that, he felt a slender hand wrap around his bicep, and he turned to the blonde girl next to him. And without any warning, she reached up and kissed him, snaking her arms up and around his neck.

He pulled away after a second, shock written all over his face. He quickly whipped around, looking to see if you saw that, praying that you hadn’t.

But you had. And you seemed just as shocked as he was, except there was something else in your eyes. Hurt.

Why were you hurt?

As you walked away from the campfire, you couldn’t help but ask yourself the same question. Why were you so hurt?

You had known for years that your pathetic crush on Luke would never amount to anything. He was just way out of your league. Perfect in every way.

He was so smart, and kind, and funny, and well-liked, and you just couldn’t compete with that. You were rough, and mean, and cruel, and angry. Why would he love someone like you?

Of course, you hadn’t seen the daughter of Demeter coming. But maybe you should’ve. She was everything Luke should want in a girl, gentle, sweet, feminine. Someone fit to be a girlfriend.

And let's face it. You were much more skilled in matters of the sword than matters of the heart.

You had always known this day would come. Eventually you’d have to let go of your best friend and come to terms with the fact that you weren’t the most important person in his life anymore (besides Annabeth).

So why were you so devastated?

You reasoned that it had to be the shock. Yes, it was surprising, that’s why you were reacting like this, running away from the campfire like a child, foolishly hoping that he would come running after him, when of course he wouldn’t. He’d stay with his new girlfriend.

“Hey!”

You whipped around, shocked to see the very boy you were just pining after running up to you.

“What?” You asked, snapping at him slightly, and immediately regretting it as he took on the look of a kicked puppy.

“Why’d you run away from the campfire?”

“Just needed some air.”

“You sure? I mean you look kinda-”

“I’m fine! Just fine! Now you can go back to your little girlfriend and leave me alone!” You burst out, waving your hands around manically.

He looked shocked by your sudden shouting, probably because you had only genuinely been angry with him about three times in your whole friendship.

“Sorry. Just give me a minute, ok?” You said, your voice shuddering slightly. God it was pathetic, getting so worked up over a boy? You wanted to crawl into a hole and die. You then turned around and began to walk away, but didn’t get far before a hand grabbed yours pulling you back.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” He said firmly.

“What?”

“She’s not my girlfriend. I don’t even really know her name.”

He then apparently realised how that sounded, because he quickly amended his statement.

“Not like that. What I’m trying to say is that I don’t like her like that. She just kinda grabbed me.”

You stammered slightly, trying to regain composure. Right now you looked like a jealous loser, and while that is what you were, you didn’t want him to see you like that.

“Ok cool. I don’t care, y’know. Kiss whoever you want, man, not my problem!” You laughed although it was painfully strained.

“Again, not what I’m trying to say.” He said, scratching the back of his neck. Nervous.

“So what are you-”

“I’m trying to say I’m in love with you!” He rushed out, holding you by the shoulders and staring directly into your eyes to try and get his point across.

“What?” You whispered, once again not able to believe your ears.

“I said I’m in love with you,” He repeated, slower this time, his voice more even, “I’ve been in love with you for so long, you have no idea. I was only talking to that girl ‘cause I thought I’d never have a chance with you. But then I realised that I don’t want some other girl. I only want you.”

You took in a sharp intake of breath, scanning his face for any sign of insincerity.

“You’re being serious?” You asked.

“Deadly serious.” He responded immediately, smiling sheepishly.

You paused for a minute, before whispering, “I love you too.”

Only then did he finally make his move, holding you gently by the face and bending down to kiss you.

And it was like a piece of the puzzle finally clicked into place. It was painfully cliche, and it felt like you were in some dumb rom com, but kissing him really was like fireworks going off all over your body.

He clearly felt the same way, holding you by the back of the head and pulling you in further, closer, like he didn’t want to be apart from him ever again.

Eventually you both pulled away for air, and he looked at you with a smile of pure joy, until the shock of the whole situation hit him.

“Wait, so you really mean it?”

“I mean, I did just let you kiss me, didn’t I?”

“Good point. Sorry, I’m just a little surprised.”

“Fair enough. I mean, I had no idea you felt the same way.” You laughed, all the previous tension ebbing from your body.

“What, really?” He asked, seeming genuinely surprised.

“Yes, really! How was I supposed to know? Besides, I didn’t think I was really your type.”

At that his eyes practically bulged out of his head in shock, more so than any other time that night.

“Not my type? You’re entirely my type! Not like it matters anyway when you're the most perfect girl I’ve ever met in my life.”

You frowned, “Now you're just lying to me, Luke.”

“No I’m not. You're everything I’ve ever wanted. The only girl I’ve ever wanted.” He said firmly.

You looked at him, still slightly doubtful, but he was determined to fix that.

So he kissed you again, and suddenly all your doubts were swept away in his strong embrace as he kissed you like it was the last thing he ever wanted to do.

“Believe me now?”

“Yeah. And, I guess you’re pretty great too.”

He looked at you teasingly, daring you to elaborate, and for once you decided to stroke his ego.

“Fine. You're the most handsome, funny, charming man I’ve ever met in my life.”

That clearly satisfied him, because a wide grin wriggled its way across his face that you couldn’t help but mirror, because you both knew you meant every word.

“So does this mean you’ll give me a chance?”

“Yes. I’d give you a hundred chances.”

#percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan x reader #x reader #fluff #romance #minor angst #fanfic #writing #luke castellan #jealousy

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baby-jaguar · 6 months

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CoD Wedding Headcannons

Some sweet love for our boys, hoping to cheer anyone up after MW3. While the photos do have fem/wedding dresses in them, I tried to make it as gender neutral as possible!

I hope everyone can enjoy!

Price

Getting married to Price warrants an old Hollywood glamour, something more intimate and small for the people you both hold close, so you can make memories of the long-awaited night while being able to relax in good nature of the celebration.

You both decided to find a nice speakeasy for both the ceremony and reception, as Price had surprised you and rented out the entire venue. The soft and warm glow of candles and old lights casted a romantic light on you, showing the etheral glow to you.

Price is a traditional man, and decided to save his first look to seeing you walk down the aisle. As your eyes lock onto his, he sniffles and the distinct tell of his moustance twitching is what keys you in on him being able to feel comfortable showing his emotions as he hones his ice blue eyes on you.

He did in fact, make quite the show for your first kiss, taking you in his arms and giving you a gentle but deep dip, showing off the romantic (almost steamy) touch of your lips as you lock in your unity.

Your first dance is a slow sway in circles, focused on whispering sweet nothings to each other in between the kisses you reach up to give him. Saving the absolute last dance for both of you, as the clock strikes into midnight and the day is now Sunday, Etta James' Sunday Kind of Love plays out softly as you sway together before heading up to your honeymoon suite.

Vows:

"My angel, you have been everything I believed I never deserved. You have shown me what I have always been missing, the love that I never knew of. I know I will never be able to amount to the thankfulness of you sticking by me through and through, I will never stop thanking the heavens of the gold and glory that you are, as you run through my veins to find your home in my heart.

Just as I fought by your side on the field, I promise to fight for our love, to shield it from any harm that may come its way. Through the scars and wounds we bear, both seen and unseen, I vow to cherish every part of you. Your strength, your vulnerability, your laughter, and your tears - they are all precious to me. Our love is a force that any creature made by god would fear, as I know we are forever to be unstoppable together, through every small and great task.

Together, we will conquer any obstacle that stands in our way. I promise to never forget the sacrifices made; honoring our fallen, for they have paved and protected the way for our love. They watch over us, guiding us, and reminding us to cherish every moment we have. I love you, with every last being of myself, and even past my last breath. Forever and always, angel."

Gaz

Gaz has a flair for the dramatics and also loves a fairytale and nature aesthetic. He requested a fairytale wedding, and it was an extravagant night for the two of you. Gaz values some traditions but was ready to blow those to the wind for his excitement to celebrate your love. You did a first look, and he was rendered speechless as he took in your form, tears already pooling and beginning to stream down his face.

Gaz took the time with you to learn a ballroom dance for your first song, impressing your guests and even yourselves with how beautiful and magical the two of you are. Cutting the cake was a very sweet moment for the two of you, as you both happened to have the same thought and booped each other on the nose with icing at the same moment.

Your wedding was held in a mountaintop venue, the night sky showing all the stars that shined brightly and reflected on a lake, approving of your love as if the faries make an appearance for your royal court of a wedding. As you danced the night away, Kyle was sure to keep a mix of whispering the most heart warming sweet nothings, and making sure to catch your reaction by the photographers when he murmured sinfully sweet thoughts in your ear.

Vows:

"Through the chaos and uncertainty, you became my anchor, guiding me with your strength and infectious spirit. Together, we have faced the darkest of days, and it is in those moments that our love has grown stronger. When I look into your eyes, I see a reflection of my hopes, dreams, and desires.

Your love has breathed life into my soul, and I vow to nourish that love with tenderness and compassion. I promise to be your confidant, your partner, and your best friend, as your happiness is everything that can and will continue to let my heartbeat to our special song. I promise to be the keeper of your dreams, the one who will protect and nourish you from any challenges we face, always together.

You are my life; I will walk beside you, hand in hand, supporting you in every step. You are the greatest reward life has ever, granted me. With every beat of my heart, I will love you fiercely, unconditionally, and without reservation, for you are the missing piece that completes me."

Soap

Johnny was all for having a fun and colorful wedding, and a maximalist and retro decor was decided on. Because for a MacTavish? Go big or go home baby.

He never stopped smiling the day of your wedding, his astonishment at the environment and scene of your unity never leaving his face. You decided to read your vows privately to each other, holding hands and having your backs to each other while waiting to have your first look down the aisle. Under disco balls, your first dance felt like something out of a movie.

Johnny was one to always show off, and he was sure to spin and dip you around, his strength holding you as he even lifted you and twirled you around. Now as a real MacTavish, you both knew how to throw a party and made sure that your open bar helped your guests get as wild as you two are.

If you did decide to wear a garter, or simply put one on for the tradition, Johnny made a damn great show of taking it off; crawling underneath your dress/between your legs and made you squeak in embarrassment as his stuble tickled your thigh.

Vows:

"Today, I stand before you, to pledge my undying love. You, my little sparrow, have held my attention, obsession, and heart from the moment our eyes met. I promise to always have your back, whether we're dodging bullets or just trying to figure out what to have for dinner. With you, life is an adventure, and I can't wait to tackle it together.

I promise to be your partner in crime for life, always up for exploring new horizons and creating memories we’ll never live down, But as long as we're together, every moment will be an adventure worth cherishing.

You bring laughter and lightness to my life, even in the darkest of times. Your smile is like a ray of sunshine breaking through the storm clouds. Life is too short to not enjoy the simple pleasures, and with you by my side, every moment is a treasure.

I vow to keep the flames of passion alive, As Our love is a fire that burns bright, even amidst the chaos. I promise to keep the spark alive, to always pursue you with the same determination and intensity that challenges the forces of this earth."

Ghost

Simon was enthusiastic to have a wedding that featured a dark and mystical aesthetic. He wanted something small and private, requesting that it be some of your closest friends and family to spend the special night together.

With a romantic and dark church, it was a powerful and mystical wedding that incorporates both of your energies. You both decided not to have groomsmen/bridesmaids and instead placed altars of your fallen teammates and loved ones under the arch with you two, feeling their love in your unity.

Simon waited for his first look down the aisle but began crying with a wavering voice during your vows. During the first dance, he lifted you to stand atop of his feet, holding you as he moved the both of you in a surprising fashion of a waltz, elegantly for the seasoned stealth veteran.

His eyes seemed to swim with tears, iris' almost as black as his pupils in the dark lit church and ballroom. His eyes were rarely straying from you, far to enamored with keeping every memory to be held in his soul- even in the next life.

Vows:

"From the darkness where death once consumed us, to the light that now shines through our love, I stand here today, my heart laid bare, to vow my eternal devotion to you. In the face of danger, amidst the chaos and uncertainty, our love has blossomed like a fragile flower, defying all odds. Today, I stand here, a silent guardian, to pledge my undying love and devotion to you. In our promise, my heart will always yearn for your touch, laughter, and the warmth of your presence.

Through the pain and loss we have endured, I promise to cherish every memory we share. Your laughter, your touch, your soul - they are etched into the very fabric of my existence. I will hold you as tenderly as the spirits did when creating you, as you are a gift that I will forever cherish. In this broken world, I vow to mend any pieces of your heart, to hold you close when the weight of the past becomes too heavy to bear.

I will be your strength when you feel weak, your rock when you need stability. With you, I have found a love that mends the scars of the past."

Graves

Phillip desired a venue within the wilderness and countryside, deciding that a farm with a Barn reception was perfect. His vows were as strong as his commands, his voice was deep and rich with honey, and maybe a few tears, as he spoke his heart out to you and let the crowd hear just how much you have changed him into a loving man.

You partook in “burying the bourbon,” planting a favorite bottle in the ground of your wedding venue, one month prior. Once dug out, you intertwined arms and took shots all night, the heat of the drink and your love enveloping you both. two-stepping through the night on the dance floor, he twirled you expertly and dipped you low to the ground before always leaving a kiss on your lips.

It was during the ceremony that he surprised you, having ordered a mechanical bull for you and the guests to ride. Taking you and himself on the first ride, you laughed so hard you cried at how silly, but fun it was.

Taking you to the airport after the wedding, he had a classic American car with a "Just Married" sign on the back. And of course, the Shadows were your escort to the airport.

Vows:

"My sweetheart, from the moment our stubborn hearts crossed paths, I sensed a connection deeper than what ties us to this life. I will be a guardian of our love, ensuring that it shines brightly in every step I take, and every breath I draw, as you are the whisper that breathes into my greatest devotion.

In the depths of my soul, and the depths of you, I promise to carry our love of shared laughter, whispered promises, and the unspoken bond that will forever be the piece that grounds me in this realm. I vow to live a life worthy of the love you bless me with, to carry forward the lessons you teach me, and to honor the sacrifices we have made to make it this far, together.

Your courage, compassion, and unwavering loyalty will forever inspire me, my angel, whom I vow to cherish and love and you beat your wings to the pulse of my heart.

As I walk this Earth with you by my side, I know that we will be forever united no matter the realm we are in. As our love knows no boundaries, and as we exchange these vows, we will be together, holding each other in a timeless embrace. To the moon and farther, you are my saving grace. ”

Alejandro

Alejandro was excited to celebrate your commitment and love to each other, already planning a massive celebration between each other's families, friends, and Los Vaqueros, who helped set up your beautiful wedding. In true Vaquero fashion, the Wedding Lasso Ceremony was incorporated.

By a thick cord of white rope, the priest tied it around you two in an infinity shape and blessed your unity to eternity. As he read his vows to you, Alejandro tried very hard to not cry but in the last paragraph (and from hearing his own mother’s soft sniffles in the crowd) he had a quiet sob while his eyes found yours, reciting the lines from his heart.

As the ceremony concluded, you and Alejandro rode your horses down the streets of the town, waving and smiling at all who had come out to shout and cheer for your parade of love in La Callejoneada, many throwing rice and flower petals towards you two in a token of celebration. Your wedding was held in an orchard of Mango trees, the meaning of affection and adoration not.

Vows:

"Mi Amor, as we stand together, I vow to be the person you deserve, to love you unconditionally, and to be a witness to your growth and transformation. Our love is a flame that burns brightly, illuminating the path before us, and I am grateful to walk it by your side.

In your eyes, I find the force that drives me to be what you deserve, as you are the most sacred thing to ever cross the path of my heart. Eres mi existencia, la luz que hace que mi sangre lata en mi corazón como siempre ha sido el tuyo. (You are my existence, the light that makes my blood beat into my heart as it has always been yours.)

Mi Vida, in you, I have found a sanctuary where I can be myself, unburdened by the weight of the world. I vow to be your shelter and support, and together, we will create a haven of love and understanding, where we can always find solace and rejuvenation.

Desde este día en adelante, caminaremos juntos por el sendero de la vida, enfrentando los desafíos con valentía y compartiendo las risas y los sueños. Mi amor por ti trasciende las palabras y se manifiesta en cada gesto, en cada mirada, y en cada latido de mi corazón."

(From this day forward, we will walk the path of life together, facing challenges with courage and sharing laughter and dreams. My love for you transcends words and is manifested in every gesture, in every look, and in every beat of my heart.)

Rudy

Rodolfo was ready for a celebration but wanted to keep it intimate to your closest family and friends, and of course, Los Vaqueros as well. You both chose a beautiful wedding venue next to the beach, having the white decorations tied into the beautiful white sand and blue ocean water.

Exchanging Las Arras matrimoniales proved to be heartwarming as the priest and los padrinos y madrinas made sure you felt the love as you became a Parra, a member of their family. You were surprised as Rudy managed to only have his eyes water during his vows but his voice wavered, and he had to clear his throat multiple times while reading them aloud.

That didn’t stop his voice from showing his conviction and devotion; entering the reception, Rudy placed you on a lone chair in the middle of the dance floor and lined up with his men and a mariachi band. Under the sunset, he serenaded you. His voice rang out richly and perfectly, causing tears to stream down your face as your hand laid over your heart to try and keep it still.

Vows:

“Mi Cielo, your presence in my life has been like a symphony, each note perfectly harmonizing with the next. Together, we have created a melody that resonates deep within me. You have become my muse, my inspiration, and the beat of my soul.

Mi Corazón, prometo nutrir nuestro amor como una flor delicada, cuidándolo con cuidado y devoción. Así como un compositor cultiva su obra maestra, yo me haré cargo de nuestro amor, colmándolo de cariño, comprensión y respeto. Nuestro amor florecerá, irradiando su belleza al mundo. (My Heart, I promise to nourish our love like a delicate flower, tending to it with care and devotion. Just as a composer cultivates his masterpiece, I will take charge of our love, showering it with affection, understanding and respect. Our love will blossom, radiating its beauty to the world.)

Our love is a masterpiece, and I promise to protect it with all my being. As we embark on this journey together, I vow to always walk beside you, hand in hand, navigating the twists and turns that life may bring. Our love will be the melody that carries us through, and with you by my side, I am confident that we can conquer anything. En este día y todos los días venideros, me comprometo a amarte con cada fibra de mi ser. (On this day and every day to come, I commit to loving you with every fiber of my being.)

Our love is a melody that sings of devotion and commitment, and I am honored to be the one who shares this beautiful symphony with you.”

König

While planning your wedding, König asked for a deal between you two for the ceremony. If you granted him a private elopement, he would deliver the wedding of your dreams. Deliver he did, as he picked a literal castle for your venue. An enchanting and historic architecture with plants adding to the mystical feel, he made you feel as decadent as two rulers who are together forever more and uniting two kingdoms.

He chose to speak his vows privately to you, with a camera pointed towards you to watch as you both had tears running down your faces at the words spoken softer than any feeling your heart has ever felt before. However, he knew that a party was needed to celebrate your love, so the reception was held in a ballroom that overlooked the forest.

As a man who values his heritage, you and König had a private ‘Brautraub’ where you hid within the castle, waiting for him to figuratively seek and kidnap you as a symbol of starting a new portion of your life with him as he (literally) swept you off your feet and into his arms.

Vows:

"Mein Schätz, our love is vital as the bond between two rulers has created a kingdom of love and unity that reigns within our souls. You are the crown of my life, the sun that illuminates my kingdom. With you, I have experienced the true meaning of love and devotion as you have captured my heart, forever I will honor and protect you, as you are my guiding star that will lead me to my heaven.

Mein Liebling, ich gelobe, unsere Liebe wie ein kostbares Juwel zu hegen und sie mit Hingabe und Aufmerksamkeit zu pflegen. Ich gelobe, unsere Liebe immer zu nähren und sie stärker zu machen als einen funkelnden Diamanten, denn niemand wird jemals meine Hingabe an Dich schmälern. (My darling, I vow to cherish our love like a precious jewel and to nurture it with devotion and attention. I vow to always nourish our love and make it stronger than a sparkling diamond, for no one will ever diminish my devotion to you.)

Meine Sonne und Sterne, I vow to cherish and nurture our bond with tenderness and care. Like a king protects his kingdom, I will guard our love fiercely, shielding it from harm. Our love will stand as a beacon of hope, one that is a testament of royalty, radiating its warmth and beauty to all who witness its majestic journey. Ich liebe dich für immer.”

(Meine Sonne und Sterne = My Sun and my Stars. Ich liebe dich für immer = I love you, forever.)

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weebsinstash · 3 months

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Kinda obsessed with the idea of a reader pregnant with Lucifer's kid and just he's really into it and wants to get married while the readers there being like damn I just wanted the bragging rights of saying I fucked the king of hell and now I have to be married to him !?!

Reader: ugh oh my god that dick was so fucking good, thanks Lucifer

Lucifer, currently painting sigils with his own blood on your tummy: oh my god, no, I know, right, it was amazing, I had an amazing time

Reader: hey uhhhhhhh by the way, what are you

Lucifer, taking a break from speaking ancient Latin incantations: oh hey, no don't worry about it it's totally cool I'm just, doing a thing here

Reader watching the very foundation of Hell shake around them like an earthquake as all the candles in the room burn higher and the unseen spirits of the damned sing comgratulatory praises for their dark lord: you know this kiiiiiiiiinda feels like you miiiiiight be doing something kinda sinister and magic-y right now

Lucifer, watching his symbol appear on your belly: whaaaaaaaaat, no, that's crazy! It's just a little.... surprise! Nothing to worry about! So hey also completely unrelated but I kind of need to splash some of this goat's blood on you--

I feel like sleeping or even FLIRTING with Lucifer is the ultimate case of fuck around and find out because at the very least you have an all powerful clingy depressed obsessive boyfriend in THE DEVIL and at his very worst you have you know THE DEVIL, treating you as his equal half, wanting all to bow before you, worship you, erecting churches with stained glass telling the Epic Tale of how you two fell in love, wanting you draped in fineries, at his side at all times, having only the best

I just feel like... he's one of those yandere that really could take you 0 to 100. You fuck the guy ONCE as like a drunken one night stand, a real "fuck it why not maybe it'll be fun" kinda romp, and then he's making plans behind your back about marriage because, well, he just loves you so much already that he can't see doing anything else! 🥰 like can you imagine going from getting cream pied to like only a week later some church is getting constructing with like biblical art of "oh how the king of hell met another and fell in love" and it's foretelling some epic saga that hasn't even. Happened yet. Like imagine the whiplash of finding out the guy you casually fucked is dedicating buildings to. A story of. How he impregnated and married you and you guys "lived happily ever after" and you still barely know him

I like the contrasting options of Lucifer intentionally impregnating you vs unintentionally because THE VISUAL of like. He's just nutted and you're laying there amd he looks down and suddenly there's this little glowing moving picture on your skin of a snake twining around, circling, becoming an apple with a heart or some-- this is a real specific genre of fetish I'm discussing here ok we don't need to like exactly describe whatever magical mark of pregnancy the devil gives you fjdnfjf. But the apple appears and he's blinking at it and, finally, it clicks, and he's all "BABY! B-BABY! IT'S A BABY HHHOHHHHH MY GOD" and he's like EXCITED but also just like. Do you think he'd get a little biblical drooling about 'your womb being blessed' or some shit. Your absolute fucking LUCK OR LACK THEFEOF if Lucifer turned out to ACCIDENTALLY BE CORRECT and you kind of WERE created to be his wife or end up with him, like GOD is up there, "yeah Luci I threw you a bone, enjoy it 👍" like SHIT the one time you ARE cosmically fated to have a mate and it's AFTER YOU DIE? It's also LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR???

I feel like, genuinely the only way Lucifer would mistreat the Reader is completely unintentionally, like he has a bout of depression and neglects you a little, or he becomes socially withdrawn and you think he doesn't like you but really he's just feeling sad or working on something that's really important to him. I mean. This is BESIDES the possibility of confinement but that's for your protection and it's not like you're in PRISON. This guy is clearly packed with goofy loving positive energy. He'll be taking you to the circus and to musicals with his daughter like you've always been a member of the family, getting you your own special throne to sit beside his own. He's having audience with like some wretched soul, there are flames, he's being TERRIFYING, telling them how they've betrayed him and he's going to tear their soul to pieces and sentencs them to eternal suffering, and then he turns to you, "I'm sorry am I making it too hot in here shnookums 🥰 I don't wanna make you and our lil hellion uncomfy 🥰" like.... truly, you got yourself a man that can do both

#yandere hellaverse #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere x reader #hh #sinprompts

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earlgreytea68 · 10 months

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LOOK AWAY IF YOU DON'T WANT SO MUCH FOR (TOUR) DUST SPOILERS, OKAY?

~~~

Set list:

(1) That Pink Seashell spoken word thing actually opens the show

(2) Love from the Other Side: I assumed they'd play this first, and they did, and they looked very happy with the reception that it got

(3) The Phoenix

(4) Sugar, We're Goin Down: I overheard two guys when I was leaving saying, "I only came to this show for that Sugar song, and it was the third song they played," whatever to those two guys lol

(5) Uma Thurman

(6) A Litttle Less Sixteen Candles, A Little More Touch Me

(7) Chicago Is So Two Years Ago: I know they always play this song when they play Chicago but the way the show is set up, there's this spoken intro that references a light being left on in Chicago, and then they launch into this song, and so I feel like maybe it's permanently in the set list for this tour, we'll see.

(8) Grand Theft Autumn: Patrick told the story again of how he wrote the lyrics while jogging with Pete. Here is exactly what he said, because I recorded it, hahaha: "I wrote this song out here, jogging, trying to figure out the words. This was back when I wrote a lot of the words. And Pete was jogging with me and he was like, 'Eh, maybe change this, maybe change this.' Before we knew it he was writing all the lyrics." And then Pete said, "Imagine us jogging" lolololol

(9) Calm Before the Storm

(10) This Ain't a Scene, It's an Arms Race: They added a little Peterick-y moment in here? I don't remember them playing at each other during this song in previous performances? It was cute, it was during the instrumental part before Patrick leads the singalong, maybe I've just always missed it? They played it each other and kind of did some kind of kick thing with their legs??

(11) Disloyal Order of Water Buffaloes: Honestly, always a delight to hear this song, this is one of my favorites <3

(12) Heaven, Iowa: THIS SONG LIVE, I SWEAR

(13) "The Take Over, the Breaks Over": OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS SONG AND I TOTALLY DIDN'T EXPECT THEM TO PLAY IT, I WAS SO HAPPY

(14) Headfirst Slide into Cooperstown on a Bad Bet: <3 Guess they got over being scared of playing this one lol

(15) Fake Out: I CANNOT TELL YOU HOW EXCITED I WAS THAT THEY PLAYED THIS ONE OMGGGGGGG. Also, there was some plan I wasn't aware of to, like, hold up cell phones with pink paper over the lights so the crowd lit up pink???? I have no idea who engineered that but it was CHARMING and at the end of the song Pete said, "Thanks for that, guys, that was beautiful," and the stage was on darkness so it seemed absolutely spontaneous on his part and I think they really did like the effect, so, Idk, future shows, keep doing it????

(16) Patrick did some kind of piano interlude where he played "Don't Stop Believin'"????? It was random but he was super charming, I think the rest of the band used it as a break, it was just SO GREAT. Part of his intro was: "Pete was putting together this show and he said to me, 'Hey, you should play piano.' And I was like, 'I kinda only play songs I wrote. I don't really play piano. I don't know how to play piano.' And he's like, 'Eh, you'll figure it out.'" And then Patrick sat down and played gorgeous piano ugh THANKS, PETE.

(17) Last of the Real Ones: I am glad Mania got some love.

(18) Save Rock and Roll

(19) PETE RECITED BABY ANNIHILATION WHAT. I SWEAR TO GOD. I SO DID NOT EXPECT THIS AND I STILL CAN'T BELIEVE THAT IT HAPPENED. If you're going to the show, pay attention, because I looked away and apparently there's, like, a magic trick at the end of the monologue where he disappears behind a piece of black silk?????

(20) Crazy Train cover: I...don't know what to say about this randomness hahaha but it happened??

(21) Dance Dance

(22) Hold Me Like a Grudge: I think Patrick adores singing this song, I really do.

(23) G.I.N.A.S.F.S.: I KNOW. I CAN'T BELIEVE IT, EITHER.

(24) My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark (Light Em Up)

(25) Thnks fr th Mmrs

(26) Centuries

(27) Saturday <3

The show ends with a little piano version of So Much (for) Stardust played over the sound system, so pay attention for that.

The set is super Alice in Wonderland-y and I adored it, it's playful and fantastical and has all these whimsical touches and interludes and I just thought it was delightful and at one point there were bubbles, and I heard some people complaining after the concert that the fantasy thing didn't suit their style of music and really, I was surrounded by downers after the concert, I thought they were perfect hahaha. Like, ABSOLUTELY PERFECT. They looked so, so, so tangibly happy, all of them. Patrick sounded fantastic and he looked like he was having a blast, he smiled the whole time.

I have a lot of videos but they seem like they're all pretty terrible, but I'll see how I feel in the morning lol

#fall out boy #fob #bandom

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writingwithcolor · 8 months

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Depicting Real World Religions Alongside Constructed Religions

Maya asked:

Hi WWC! Thank you so much for this blog, it's an infinitely wonderful resource! Do you have any suggestions for how I can balance representation of real religions with fantasy religions, or should I avoid including these together? Does the fact that certain things bleed over from our world into the fantasy world help legitimize the appearance of real world religions? I feel like I can come up with respectful ways to integrate representation in ways that make sense for the worldbuilding. For instance, no Muslim characters would practice magic, and both Jewish and Muslim characters would conceive of magic in ways that fit their religion (rather than trying to adapt real religions to fit my worldbuilding). I also have some ideas for how these religions came about that fit between handwave and analogous history (though I realize the Qur'an is unchangeable, so I'm guessing Islam would have come about in the same way as IRL). BTW—I'm referring to humans, not other species coded as Muslim or Jewish. I may explore the concept of jinns more (particularly as how Muslims perceive fantastical beings), but I definitely need to do a lot more research before I go down that road! Finally, I saw a post somewhere (*but* it might have been someone else's commentary) suggesting to integrate certain aspects of Judaism (e.g., skullcaps in sacred places/while praying, counting days from sundown instead of sunset) into fantasy religions (monotheistic ones, of course) to normalize these customs, but as a non-Jewish person I feel this could easily veer into appropriation-territory. *One of the posts that I'm referring to in case you need a better reference of *my* reference: defining coding and islam-coded-fantasy

[This long ask was redacted to pull out the core questions asked]

"Both Jewish and Muslim characters would conceive of magic in ways that fit their religion (rather than trying to adapt real religions to fit my worldbuilding)."

Just a note that while having religion be part of magic is a legitimate way to write fantasy, I want to remind people that religious characters can also perform secular magic. Sometimes I feel like people forget about that particular worldbuilding option. (I feel this one personally because in my own books I chose to make magic secular so that my nonmagical heroine wouldn’t seem less close to God somehow than her wizard adoptive dad, who is an objectively shadier person.) I’m not saying either way is more or less correct or appropriate, just that they’re both options and I think sometimes people forget about the one I chose. But anyway moving on—

Your decision to make the water spirits not actual deities is a respectful decision given the various IRL monotheistic religions in your story, so, thank you for that choice. I can see why it gets messy though, since some people in-universe treat those powers as divine. I guess as long as your fantasy Jews aren’t being depicted as backwards and wrong and ignoring in-universe reality in favor of in-universe incorrect beliefs, then you’re fine…

"I saw a post somewhere (but it might have been someone else's commentary) suggesting to integrate certain aspects of Judaism (e.g., skullcaps in sacred places/while praying, counting days from sundown instead of sunset) into fantasy religions (monotheistic ones, of course) to normalize these customs, but as a non-Jewish person I feel this could easily veer into appropriation-territory."

That was probably us, as Meir and I both feel that way. What would make it appropriative is if these very Jewish IRL markers were used to represent something other than Judaism. It's not appropriative to show Jewish or Jewish-coded characters wearing yarmulkes or marking one day a week for a special evening with two candles or anything else we do if it's connected to Jewishness! To disconnect the markers of us from us is where appropriation starts to seep in.

–Shira

To bounce off what Shira said above, the source of the magic can be religious or secular--or put another way, it can be explicitly granted be a deity or through engagement with a specific religious practice, or it can be something that can be accessed with or without engaging with a certain set of beliefs or practices. It sounds like you’re proposing the second one: the magic is there for anyone to use, but the people in this specific religion engage with it through a framework of specific ideas and practices.

If you can transform into a “spirit” by engaging with this religion, and I can transform into a “spirit” through an analogous practice through the framework of Kabbalah, for example, and an atheist can transform through a course of secular technical study, then what makes yours a religion is the belief on your part that engaging in the process in your specific way, or choosing to engage in that process over other lifestyle choices, is in some way a spiritual good, not the mechanics of the transformation. If, on the other hand, humans can only access this transformative magic through the grace of the deities that religion worships, while practitioners of other religions lack the relationship with the only gods empowered to make that magic, that’s when I’d say you had crossed into doing more harm than good by seeking to include real-world religions.

Including a link below to a post you might have already seen that included the “religion in fantasy worldbuilding alignment chart.” It sounds like you’re in the center square, which is a fine place to be. The center top and bottom squares are where I typically have warned to leave real-world religions out of it.

More reading:

Jewish characters in a universe with author-created fictional pantheons

–Meir

#religion #magic #fantasy #Judaism #Islam #Worldbuilding #Jewish #asks #supernatural beings

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callsigns-haze · 1 month

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Oh, How She's Changed...

Pairing: Acotar x reader Warnings: Contains mature themes, including violence, romance, and adult situations. Summary: YN, the immortal descendant of gods, reunites with her friends Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel at a lavish gathering in the Night Court's grand ballroom. As they reminisce about past adventures and observe the antics of other courtiers, they marvel at YN's transformation from an innocent girl into a captivating woman. However, their reunion is cut short when one of YN's guards arrives to escort her away, leaving Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel with lingering thoughts and a sense of longing as they watch her depart into the night.

As the evening sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden hue across the Night Court's palace, YN, the immortal descendant of gods, found herself ensconced in a lavish chamber. Intricate tapestries adorned the walls, depicting scenes of ancient battles and celestial beings, while flickering candles bathed the room in a soft, ethereal glow. At the heart of the chamber, YN stood surrounded by the opulent splendour of her surroundings, her gaze drawn to the figures of Mor and Amren bustling around her.

Mor, her fiery locks cascading in loose waves around her shoulders, moved with a grace born of centuries of battle and camaraderie. Dressed in elegant attire befitting her station as a high-ranking member of the Night Court, she approached YN with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "Well, YN," she said, her voice carrying a note of playful anticipation, "are you ready to grace the fae with your divine presence tonight?"

YN, radiant in her own right, adorned in garments woven from the finest silks and adorned with jewels that shimmered like stars, offered Mor a warm smile. "I hope I can do justice to the legacy of my ancestors," she replied, her voice infused with a hint of humility.

Meanwhile, Amren, the enigmatic being of ancient origins, moved with a fluidity that spoke of eons spent mastering the arcane arts. With a flick of her wrist, she summoned forth threads of celestial magic, weaving enchantments into the fabric of YN's gown. Each stitch pulsed with otherworldly energy, resonating with the divine power that flowed through YN's immortal veins.

"Fear not, YN," Amren reassured her, her voice a melodic echo of distant thunder, "with Mor's impeccable taste and my arcane prowess, you'll be the epitome of divine elegance."

Mor nodded in agreement, her gaze sweeping over YN with an approving smile. "And let's not forget your own innate charm and grace, YN," she added, her eyes alight with pride. "You were born for moments like these."

Grateful for their support and guidance, YN felt a surge of confidence coursing through her veins. "Thank you, both of you," she said, her voice filled with genuine warmth. "I'm grateful to have such wise counsel."

Amren's lips curved into a knowing smile, her eyes glittering with ancient wisdom. "The honour is ours, YN," she replied, her voice carrying the weight of centuries past. "Now, let us ensure that you're prepared for whatever the night may hold."

But as YN caught her reflection in the polished mirror, something stirred within her. Gone was the innocent girl she had always been, replaced by a woman exuding an air of confidence and allure. With a subtle sway of her hips and a coy smile playing upon her lips, she realized that with this new look, she was ready for some spice.

And so, as she stepped out into the night, her heart brimming with anticipation, YN knew that she was not just a descendant of gods, but a force to be reckoned with—a goddess in her own right, ready to conquer whatever challenges lay ahead.

In the heart of the Night Court's grand ballroom, the air hummed with the vibrant energy of celebration. The room pulsated with music, the melodies weaving through the throng of fae dancers swirling gracefully across the floor. Amidst the lively festivities, three figures sat at a secluded table, their voices mingling with laughter and camaraderie.

Rhysand, the enigmatic High Lord of the Night Court, reclined in his seat with an easy grace, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. Beside him, Cassian and Azriel, his loyal companions and warriors of the Night Court, shared a toast, their laughter echoing through the hall.

"Another round, gentlemen?" Rhysand suggested, raising his glass in a playful salute.

Cassian grinned, clinking his glass against Rhysand's. "You read my mind, Rhys."

Azriel nodded in agreement, his usually stoic demeanor softened by the warmth of the moment. "To old friends and new beginnings," he said, his voice a low rumble that resonated with quiet strength.

As they sipped their drinks, their conversation turned to memories of times long past. They spoke of battles fought and victories won, of challenges overcome and bonds forged in the crucible of war. And yet, amidst the tales of triumph, there lingered a sense of longing—a yearning for something—or rather, someone—missing from their midst.

"I can't wait to see YN again," Cassian remarked, his eyes alight with anticipation. "It's been far too long since she graced us with her presence."

Rhysand nodded in agreement, a flicker of excitement dancing in his gaze. "Indeed. It will be interesting to see how she's changed over the years."

Azriel's expression softened with a hint of nostalgia. "She was always a force to be reckoned with," he said, his voice tinged with reverence. "I have no doubt that she's only grown stronger with time."

As they spoke of YN, the immortal descendant of gods, their voices filled with a mixture of fondness and admiration. Though separated by distance and time, their bond with her remained unbreakable—a testament to the enduring power of friendship and loyalty.

And so, amidst the revelry of the Night Court, Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel raised their glasses once more, toasting to the promise of a long-awaited reunion—a moment that would soon bring together old friends and new beginnings in a celebration of life, love, and the enduring bonds that unite them all.

As the night wore on and the revelry reached its peak, the grand ballroom of the Night Court was alive with energy. Fae of all shapes and sizes danced in a whirl of vibrant colors and laughter, their movements reflecting the joy and freedom of the moment.

Amidst the swirling throng, Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel found themselves drawn into the rhythm of the music, their spirits lifted by the infectious enthusiasm of the crowd. They moved with a fluid grace, their movements a testament to years of training and camaraderie.

As they danced, their thoughts inevitably turned to YN, the immortal descendant of gods they had long considered a dear friend. Memories of their past adventures together flooded their minds, filling them with a sense of nostalgia and longing.

"I remember the first time I met YN," Cassian reminisced, his voice tinged with fondness. "She was like a breath of fresh air—a ray of sunshine in the darkness."

Rhysand chuckled, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. "Yes, I recall that day well. She certainly knew how to make an entrance."

Azriel nodded in agreement, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "She was always full of surprises. I have no doubt that tonight will be no different."

As they danced and laughed, their anticipation for YN's arrival grew with each passing moment. They imagined the joy of seeing her again, the warmth of her smile, and the strength of her spirit.

And so, amidst the music and merriment of the Night Court's grand celebration, Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel continued to dance, their hearts filled with excitement and anticipation for the long-awaited reunion that awaited them. For in that moment, surrounded by friends and allies, they knew that no matter what the future held, they would face it together, united in their bond of friendship and shared experiences.

As the trio continued their animated conversation, a sudden interruption from behind caught them off guard. Before they could react, a voice, once familiar but now tinged with a newfound confidence, sliced through the air.

"Did I hear someone talking about me?" YN's voice teased, laced with amusement and a hint of mischief.

Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel froze mid-conversation, their heads snapping around to find the source of the interruption. And there, standing before them, was YN—transformed beyond recognition.

Gone was the innocent girl they remembered from years past. In her place stood a woman of breathtaking beauty and undeniable allure. Her hair cascaded in waves of midnight silk, framing a face that radiated with confidence and strength. Every movement she made exuded grace and poise, her eyes sparkling with a newfound fire that sent shivers down their spines.

For a moment, the trio could only stare in stunned silence, their minds struggling to reconcile the image before them with the memories of the girl they once knew. It took them a beat too long to realize that the innocent girl had blossomed into a captivating woman—a realization that nearly caused Azriel to choke on his drink.

Cassian was the first to recover, his trademark grin spreading across his face. "Well, well, well," he exclaimed, his voice filled with playful delight. "Look who decided to grace us with her presence."

Rhysand's eyes sparkled with amusement as he surveyed YN's transformation. "I must say, you clean up rather nicely, YN," he remarked, his tone teasing yet genuine.

Azriel, usually composed and reserved, found himself at a loss for words. He cleared his throat awkwardly, his cheeks flushing faintly as he struggled to regain his composure. "You... uh... look... stunning," he managed to stammer out, his voice barely above a whisper.

YN chuckled at their reactions, a knowing gleam dancing in her eyes. "Why, thank you, gentlemen," she replied, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "I must admit, it's been quite the journey."

As they exchanged pleasantries and caught up on lost time, Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel couldn't help but marvel at the woman YN had become. And as they continued to bask in the warmth of her presence, they knew that this reunion would mark the beginning of a new chapter—one filled with excitement, adventure, and the enduring bond of friendship that had stood the test of time.

As Rhysand, Cassian, Azriel, and YN retreated to a secluded corner of the ballroom, their conversation took a more relaxed turn. Surrounded by the lively festivities of the Night Court, they observed the arrival of other lords and ladies with a mixture of amusement and mild skepticism.

Rhysand leaned against a pillar, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips as he surveyed the gathering crowd. "Ah, it seems the usual suspects have graced us with their presence," he remarked, his tone laced with a hint of sarcasm.

Cassian chuckled, his eyes scanning the room with a discerning gaze. "Indeed. I see Lord Tarquin has brought his entourage of sycophants," he observed, a bemused expression crossing his features.

Azriel's lips quirked into a wry smile as he watched the various courtiers mingling with practiced charm and false pretenses. "And let's not forget Lady Ianthe, fluttering about like a peacock in heat," he added, his voice dripping with dry humor.

YN, who had been quietly observing the scene, couldn't help but join in their laughter. "It's almost comical, isn't it?" she remarked, a mischievous glint dancing in her eyes. "All this posturing and preening for the sake of appearances."

As they continued to share in their amusement, their conversation turned to lighter topics—old memories, shared experiences, and the absurdities of fae society. They laughed and joked, their camaraderie growing stronger with each passing moment.

But amidst the laughter and light-hearted banter, there was an unspoken understanding—a recognition of the challenges they faced and the dangers that lurked in the shadows. And as they stood together, united in their bond of friendship and shared experiences, they knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, they would face them together, with strength, courage, and a healthy dose of laughter to see them through.

As Rhysand, Cassian, Azriel, and YN observed the arrivals, their conversation took on a slightly more critical tone. They couldn't help but exchange knowing glances and subtle nods of agreement as they assessed the behavior of the other lords and ladies.

"Look at Lord Beron," Rhysand remarked, his voice dripping with disdain as he gestured towards a particularly pompous nobleman. "Does he ever tire of hearing himself talk?"

Cassian snorted in amusement, his eyes following Rhysand's gesture. "I doubt it," he replied, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "He's too enamored with the sound of his own voice."

Azriel, ever the silent observer, watched with a keen eye as the various courtiers vied for attention and favor. "And what about Lord Eris?" he mused, his tone tinged with skepticism. "Does he ever tire of playing his little games?"

YN nodded in agreement, her gaze narrowing slightly as she observed Lord Eris' calculating smile. "He's always been one for manipulation and intrigue," she remarked, her voice tinged with a hint of disdain. "But I doubt he'll find much success here tonight."

As they continued to pass judgment on the behavior of their fellow courtiers, Rhysand, Cassian, Azriel, and YN found themselves sharing in a sense of camaraderie born of mutual understanding. They may have been outsiders in the eyes of some, but together, they formed a formidable alliance—one built on trust, loyalty, and a shared disdain for the superficiality and pretense that often permeated fae society.

And as they stood together, laughing and jesting in their secluded corner of the ballroom, they knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would face them with unwavering resolve and the unbreakable bond of friendship that bound them together.

As the night wore on, the revelry continued to swell around them, but amidst the celebration, a hushed murmur reached YN's ears. Turning slightly, she saw one of her guards approaching, his demeanor serious and resolute.

Excusing herself from the conversation with Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel, YN turned to face her guard. His presence reminded her of the responsibilities that came with her divine lineage—the duties and obligations that often weighed heavily upon her shoulders.

With a nod of understanding, YN bid farewell to her companions, offering each of them a warm smile and a promise to meet again soon. Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel returned her smile, their expressions filled with a mixture of fondness and admiration.

As YN began to make her way towards the exit, the trio watched her go, their eyes following her with a mixture of awe and longing. It was impossible not to notice how she had changed—the way she carried herself with a newfound confidence, the subtle shift in her demeanor that spoke of experiences and challenges faced.

"She's grown into quite the remarkable woman, hasn't she?" Rhysand remarked, his voice tinged with a hint of pride.

Cassian nodded in agreement, his gaze never leaving YN's retreating figure. "Indeed. She's like a jewel—radiant and untouchable."

Azriel remained silent, his eyes fixed on YN with a depth of emotion that spoke volumes. He had always felt a special connection to her—a bond forged in the crucible of shared experiences and unspoken understanding. And as he watched her disappear into the night, a sense of longing stirred within him—a yearning to be by her side, to protect her and guide her through the challenges that lay ahead.

As YN disappeared from view, Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel turned back to the festivities, their thoughts lingering on the woman who had captured their hearts and inspired their admiration. For in that moment, they knew that no matter where their paths may lead, their bond with YN would remain unbreakable—a beacon of light in the darkness, guiding them through the trials and tribulations of the fae realm.

Tagging some:

@callsign-magnolia

@shanimallina87

@kmc1989

@djs8891

@hardballoonlove

@callsign-dexter

@mamachasesmayhem

@senawashere

@hookslove1592

@rosiahills22

#acotar #rhys x reader #rhysand x reader #rhys x y/n #rhys x you #rhysand x y/n #rhysand x you #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #cassian x reader #cassian x you #cassian x y/n #bat boys #bat boys x reader #bat boys x you #decided on something new...

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allysunny · 2 months

Note

heyyy hope ur well <3 i looooove ur writing so much it’s amazing! i had a request for bruce if that’s ok 24 & 2 + a book i was reading gave me an idea lol so could the reader be in an unhealthy abusive toxic relationship and falls for bruce who treats her soooo well and loves her soooo much unlike who she is currently with (she could have a reason why she can’t leave her partner maybe she’s so scared) and bruce is there for her always protecting her looking out for her worrying about her spoiling her he he genuinely is in love with her and you can add all ur magic to it and all ur awesome ideas. anyway if it’s not something u think fit ur writing or u don’t have enough time don’t worry it’s totally ok :))))) <3 <3 have a great day xx

For the Better

“You light up even the darkest of days” + “Please don’t leave me” + Kiss on the lips x Bale!Bruce Wayne

Pairing: Bale!Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

Words: 22.1k words

Warnings: Abusive & toxic relationship, domestic violence, gaslighting, lying, manipulation, I'm talking really, really unhealthy relationship, angst, bruises and some blood, fluff, angst with happy ending, kissing, I literally don't know how else to tag this, but please read the warnings because this is a very fucked up relationship.

A/N: Hey everyone! This is the last entry for my 200 Followers Event. I want to thank everyone who participated and all those who showed their support. That means the world to me.

Now, oh my god. This is my magnum opus, I believe. It took me a whole week to write this. This fic is the apple of my eye, my baby, my sin, my soul, I would die for this. I think it's my best work so far. I have worked my ass off for this, I really have, and I have no words to convey just how special and dear this fic is to me.

I would also like to apologise if there are any inconsistencies - I started writing it last Monday and finished it Saturday, so it's been nearly a week and I might've forgotten small details as the days went on. I tried to proofread it!

I really hope you guys will enjoy it and cherish it as much as I did. <3

To Bruce, you were the most gorgeous woman in the entire world.

Your eyes could rival even the brightest star in the sky, the sun did not hold a candle to how radiant your smile was, and no flower could compare to your beautiful. You were simply gorgeous, inside, and out.

Unfortunately, you weren’t his.

Bruce had met you during a charity event. Some wealthy couple was raising funds for the Gotham Police Department (even though Bruce did not believe half of them deserved such charity), and he had of course been invited. The couple in question could not care less about philanthropy – they were merely trying to appear that way. That’s Gotham, for you.

You’d been waitressing during the event, carrying trays of hors-d'œuvre and champagne, smiling politely at guests and trying to do your job the best you could. You’d walked by him twice, and although you weren’t really paying attention to the guests (you were far more preoccupied with not tripping and making a scene), he couldn’t take his eyes off you.

He was so mesmerised, that he found himself searching for you whenever he wasn’t talking to anyone else. Sometimes when you returned to the kitchen, he saw you talking to your coworkers, smiling, and giggling about.

After a few hours of being bored to death by patrons with faux smiles and untrue compliments, he was ready to call it a night and return to the loneliness of his mansion – and that’s when you caught his attention.

Or rather, everyone’s attention.

You’d bumped into someone’s shoulder (it was actually someone’s shoulder who had bumped into you) and spilled the tray of appetisers on top of an old man who wasn’t pleased with the situation. The man, who he recognised as Charles Carnegie – a crooked businessman famous for his dabbles with illegal gambling and corruption – yelled at you, insulting you with every name in the book. The man was just about to raise his hand, no doubt to strike you across your face, when Bruce intervened, rushing between the two of you and gripping the man’s arm.

Charles looked up in confusion and his turbulent eyes widened in recognition.

“Mr. Wayne!” he exclaimed, voice dripping with anger, “Let go of me this instant. Did you not see what happen? This foolish girl was not paying attention and spilled her tray all over me. I do not know how such incompetent staff can be hired. Someone ought to teach this insubordinate brat a lesson!”

Bruce’s hold on the man’s arm only tightened. How dare he speak to you like that? You were standing behind him, head hung low and muttering a string of apologies that were barely audible.

“Mr. Carnegie, if anyone here deserves to be taught a lesson, it is you.” He said, eyes narrowing. “Your inebriation and inability to watch where you’re going is not this woman’s fault. If you cannot behave at a public function, perhaps you shouldn’t think of attending. This server is not at fault, and you will apologize to her.”

The older man scoffed and tried stepping away from Bruce’s grip but failing.

“How dare you! Mr. Wayne, this – this – this harlot bumped into me! My suit is ruined, and she has insulted my dignity. Let go of me this instant, Mr. Wayne, or else – “

“Or else what?” Bruce asked, his voice dropping to a whisper, audible only to the man standing in front of him. “We are currently surrounded by the police our hosts were so kind to fundraise for. The entire Gotham Police Department is here, and while I know that most of them are corrupt scum like you, I am also familiar with the ones who would be more than overjoyed to throw you into jail for illegal gambling, embezzlement of funds and propositioning. I can ruin you with nothing short of three sentences, and you can bet that should you not apologize to the young woman standing behind me, I will.”

The colour drained from Charles’s face, and he stuttered, trying to come up with a decent response. It was no secret that the Carnegies were a powerful family. But the Waynes were almost royalty, and everyone in Gotham would rather swallow their whole fist than get into their bad graces. Especially Bruce Wayne’s. Surely, a man who showed up to every social function with not only a new car but a gorgeous new woman on his arm, wasn’t afraid to pull a few strings to get what he wanted – even if that meant ruining someone’s life.

“I – I – Mr. Wayne, how dare you – “

“Apologize to the young lady, or I will personally make sure all your belongings are gone by the time this godforsaken party is over. You’ll be sleeping on the floor before you can threaten me or anyone else again.”

Charles stuttered a few more times, before gulping and nodding. Bruce released his arm, and the man was quick to hold his wrist, twisting it a few times. Who would’ve known the Wayne orphan had such a death grip?

He looked up and Bruce moved out of his way to partially reveal you, yet still close enough to protect you should Charles decide to hurt you further.

“I – I am…” he stumbled over his words, shaking his head. “My apologies, Miss. My behaviour was… It was unacceptable. I am sorry for my lack of attention, and for bumping into you. I hope you can accept my most sincere apologies.” The words sounded scared – not necessarily genuine but scared – and they almost made Bruce smirk.

“It’s alright,” you muttered, eyes still fixated on the floor. “Don’t worry about it.”

Bruce wrinkled his nose at how meek you sounded and looked around himself. The situation had turned rather awkward – people were staring in his direction and murmuring to themselves. So, he did the only thing plausible.

“Ladies and gentlemen, why are we standing here, when the caviar has just been served?” he exclaimed loudly, plastering on his most charming Bruce Wayne smile, which had the guests immediately react, answering with soft chuckles of their own. “Our lovely police force should be honoured the right way – but that doesn’t mean they should get all the good food for themselves!”

The crowd that had formed around you three quickly dissipated, and so did Bruce’s smile when he finally got a good look at you. You were down on your knees, picking up your tray and trying to pick up some of the appetisers to clean up your mess a bit.

“Hey,” he chided softly to get your attention. “Hey, please, look at me.”

When you didn’t, he kneeled down next to you.

That’s when he saw you. Truly saw you.

Your face was puffy, eyes red and wet with tears that you’d tried your best to wipe away. You looked nervous and miserable, and all Bruce wanted to do was bring you close and make you feel better.

“Sir, I – he was right,” you mumbled, shaking your head, trying your best to clean up the floor with nothing but your bare hands and the napkin you carried on your arm. “I bumped into him. You shouldn’t have gone through all that trouble.”

“I saw him,” Bruce replied softly. “He bumped into you. And even if he hadn’t, it did not mean he had the right to hit you. I was not going to let him do it.”

You nodded and sighed, wiping your tears with the sleeve of your arm.

“I caused you all that trouble. I’m really sorry. Shit, I feel terrible. I ruined that man’s suit and made such a mess… Nathan would mock me to hell and back if he saw me like this…” this caused the dam to break, and you wept loudly. Bruce did not really know what to do. What did one do whenever a woman was crying? He’d had a few one-night-stands in which the women cried once they realised he wanted nothing more to do with them, but they usually left by themselves, claiming he was a “heartless jerk”, and that was the rest of it.

He took the napkin from your hands and offered you a reassuring smile.

“If it makes you feel better that man deserved it. Charles Carnegie is a well-known corrupt and needed a reality check. If I could, I would’ve probably done that on purpose.”

This earned a soft chuckle from you, and you stood up, Bruce following right after.

“I’m going to call someone to take care of this.” You said, to which Bruce nodded.

“I’ll come with you.”

“There’s really no need for that, it’s okay – “

“Nonsense. That old jerk might try to follow you and threaten you again. I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

You nodded, and quickly made your way towards the kitchen, where you asked for someone’s help. They were quick to reply, and within a few minutes, the whole place was spotless, and no one could tell anything had happened if they looked at the floor.

As soon as it was done, you turned to Bruce and offered him a small smile.

“Thank you very much, Mr. Wayne. What you did back there was very kind. I don’t even know how I could ever repay you.”

Bruce lifted a hand and shook his head.

“There’s no need to repay me. I’m just happy I could help.”

You nodded sheepishly, and extended your hand, telling him your name.

“It’s very nice to meet you.”

Bruce shook it and his hold may have lingered on yours for a tad longer than what would have been acceptable, before tasting your name on his lips.

“It’s a lovely name. I’m Bruce. Wayne.”

“Yes – I gathered. Everyone knows you,” you chuckled.

“Sometimes I wish they didn’t.” He confided.

“I’m not sure that’s for the best. Being invisible has its downsides, I’m afraid.”

You gave him his number, and the two began to talk rather quickly, even going as far as deciding to gather for ice-cream about two weeks after your initial meeting. He texted you, saying he knew of a fantastic ice-cream parlour next to his company’s building, and invited you. You’d agreed almost instantly, replying with a bunch of emojis – and that’s how you found yourself next to Bruce Wayne, eating ice-cream. You’d gotten a lemon flavoured scoop, while Bruce went for mint.

“I was surprised you wanted to meet up!” You said, beaming up at him once you had paid for your sweet treat. Or rather, after Bruce had paid for it. He insisted, telling you he couldn’t possibly let a lady pay. You made him promise he’d let you pay next time, to which he replied, “We’ll see”.

“Really?” He replied. “Why is that?”

“Well, you’re Bruce Wayne. Don’t you have like, I don’t know, a bazillion cars to drive, and a bunch of models to date, and lots of money to spend? Why’d you invite me to ice-cream?”

“I’m spending my money on ice-cream,” he gave you a cheeky smirk.

“That’s not what I meant.” You chuckled and ate a spoonful of the treat in your hand.

“To be honest, my day was going terribly. I needed some fresh air, and you seemed like good company.” He was being as honest as he could. His day at Wayne Enterprises was going terribly, with a bunch of investors trying to go behind his back and steal some of his money. It had been a hassle, but thankfully all had been taken care of. He needed something to distract him from the stress.

“Oh, tell me about it,” you groaned, rolling your eyes. “The restaurant today was hellish. It was as if Satan had spawned a hundred different little devil women to make my day worse.” You told him about all the “Karens” that had bothered you, insisting you’d gotten their order wrong, when they were simply too drunk to function (even though it was around midday), complaining about how weird their food tasted, or even going as far as telling you they did not like the decoration. It made your blood boil, but a girl needed to pay her bills, so you sucked it up.

Bruce chuckled at your descriptions of the acts you’d like to perform to those women – none of them very family friendly – and found it rather cute when you decided to deal with your frustrations by scooping a large spoonful of your lemon flavoured ice-cream. You moaned in delight once the soft food melted on your tongue and smiled.

“Nathan would just freak out if he tried these,” you said, “He’s a sucker for good ice-cream.”

Bruce’s brow quirked quizzically. Nathan? The name sounded oddly familiar coming from your lips, but he couldn’t quite tell why. You seemed to notice his expression because you were quick to continue.

“My boyfriend. I’ve mentioned him before, remember? I think I mentioned at the party too.” You hummed and ate another spoonful of ice-cream, groaning once again. “This is good. Really good. Wow.”

“Ah. Yes, your boyfriend.” Bruce nodded. He couldn’t say he wasn’t disappointed. Sure, he’d only known you for two weeks, and you had told him about Nathan early on (he simply decided to ignore that) but he’d be lying if he said the thought of more than just a friendship hadn’t crossed his mind. It was only natural, and he considered himself to be an efficient man, who went for what he wanted – well, almost. Batman had made that a tad impossible, but Bruce was still figuring it out.

“Mhm!” You exclaimed excitedly. “Nathan and I have been dating for a few years. We’re actually close to four!” You quickly told him how you and Nathan had met, something you surprisingly had not done before. You’d been accompanying a friend of yours to the ER after someone had spilled a pan of burning hot oil on top of her. The Emergency Room Doctor, Nathan Smith, had taken care of her very quickly, but it was on you he had his eyes during the entire appointment. After the both of you had thanked him, and your friend had a bandaged arm, he’d stopped you in your tracks and politely asked if you would give him your number. You couldn’t lie to yourself – he was handsome, with dirty blonde hair and blue eyes, and a kind smile, and you swore he could’ve been a model if he wanted to. So, you had said yes.

“And the rest was history,” you finished. “We’ve been together ever since.”

Bruce hummed and busied himself with taking another spoonful of mint ice cream to his lips. “I see,” he hummed. “Well, I hope everything goes well with your relationship. He sounds nice.”

“He really is. I love him.” There were stars in your eyes, and while part of Bruce scowled, unhappy with this man he had never met before, another wanted to smile, because you did seem like a lovely girl, and he did want to see you happy.

After that day, you and Bruce became close friends.

He got to know you. You worked a job at a two Michelin star restaurant, waiting tables. That’s how you’d heard of the charity gala gig – word spread around that a rich couple was looking to hire some servers, and you’d applied in the hopes of making a few extra bucks.

He learned that you were a very resilient person, not at all like the way you’d appeared that day at the gala. You’d told him you were simply having a terrible day, with a few costumers yelling in your face during your regular shift. Charles Carnegie doing the same thing at night was the straw that broke the camel’s back and seemed to break you.

He got to know all your hobbies, and the things you liked to do for fun. Learned all your favourite books, the movies you liked to watch when you were down, the snacks you liked to munch on whenever your day went sour. He learned what made you tick, and the things that inspired you. You told him about your family – the relatives you loved, those you were close with, and the ones that simply did not deserve to be in your life anymore.

Every time you disclosed some piece of information about your life, Bruce drank it all up. He wanted to know you, all of you. He listened whenever you complained to him about work, whenever you texted him with any sort of happy news, or when you called him late at night because you felt lonely. It had been so long since Bruce had someone to call his friend, and he loved every bit of it. He knew he wasn’t the first person you came to whenever you wanted to talk. Part of him wished he was your first choice, but he saw the look in your eyes whenever you mentioned Nathan.

And speaking of, he even got to meet said Nathan.

A few weeks after your second meeting, the one where you’d gone out for ice-cream, Bruce decided to surprise you by having a meal at the restaurant you worked at. He asked for a table, and specifically asked for you as his server. The owner was clearly surprised; not only did he not expect Bruce Wayne of all people to have dinner at his restaurant, but he also wasn't expecting him to ask for a specific server. Especially one that seemed as insignificant as you. Bruce assured him it was vital that he had you as his server, and the man quickly relented, happy to tend to the billionaire’s every need.

“Hi, welcome to La Lune d'Argent. My name is – “ Before you could continue, you looked up and a grin spread across your face. “Bruce! What are you doing here?”

“Having dinner. What does it look like?” He replied with a smile.

“You could've told me you were coming! I’d have gotten you the best table.”

“This one is just fine, I promise. And letting you know in advance would sort of ruin the purpose of a surprise, don't you think?”

“You wanted to surprise me?” Heat rushed to your cheeks, and you shook your head, trying to get rid of it. Not only did you have a boyfriend, but you were also at your workplace and needed to remain professional. “Thank you. That’s very nice.”

Bruce smiled once again, before opening the menu in front of him and eyeing it.

“What do you recommend?” He asked.

“Well, the Seared Scallops with Truffle Risotto are our specialty. The Lobster Thermidor is also really good, and so are the Stuffed Shrimp with Crabmeat. But if you’re not in the mood for fish, then I recommend the Chateaubriand and the Filet Mignon. The Tournedos Rossini is a costumer favourite, but I’ve tried it and don’t think it’s all that.”

Bruce nodded, before going over the wine section.

“And the wine?”

“It depends. If you pick any of the fish dishes, then you should go with the Chardonnay or the Prosecco. If you go for the meat, then you should most likely enjoy a glass of Cabernet or Merlot. There’s plenty more, but I’m I wouldn’t be of any help with those. I’m terrible when it comes to wine.” You recited, the words spilling naturally from your lips – you’d done this a thousand times.

“That’s okay. Well then, how about I have the Foie Gras Terrine and the Truffle Risotto Croquettes as appetisers, and for the main dish, I’d like the Chateaubriand if possible. I’d also like a side of salad. As for the wine, I trust the owner’s good judgment. Cabernet it is.” He waited until you were done writing everything down and handed you the menu.

“Anything else?” You asked, taking it, and tucking it under your arm.

“Is your company too much to ask for?” He offered you a smile.

“Some of us have to actually work, Mr. Wayne,” you joked and stuck your tongue out playfully, “I’ll have your appetisers here in a minute.”

Dinner went well. The food was stellar (there was after all a reason the restaurant had two Michelin stars), the wine lived up to the expectations, and your company – or rather, the small moments you managed to spare him – warmed his heart. You offered him small quips about your work, told him about the usual costumers that sat on their usual tables and had their usual meals, gossiped about those you didn't like. It felt nice, to have a good time at work. You didn't completely hate your job, no, and some days were definitely fun thanks to your coworkers or any sort of shenanigans that happened during your shifts, but it could get boring and lonely and upsetting. Bruce being there was a nice change, and a welcome one.

“When does your shift end?” He asked, after he’d eaten a nice slice of cheesecake for dessert.

“In about half an hour, I believe. I have an early night today.”

“I’ll wait for you then.”

“Oh, you really don’t have to, Bruce – “

“Nonsense. Do you have a ride home?”

“I’ll just take the train.”

“I'll give you a ride then.”

“Bruce, that’s seriously not necessary – “

You were interrupted by the voice of your boss, calling out your name in an accusatory tone. “Do I pay you to sit around and talk to costumers?”

You sighed and nodded towards Bruce.

“Thank you. A ride home would be nice.”

He waited until you were done, paid for his meal and left you a nice tip, and then waited outside. You took a few minutes, but soon enough you were walking towards him, wrapped around in a comfortable looking jacket.

“You ready to go?” you asked before a voice called out.

“Babe?”

You turned around, and your eyes widened before softening at the sight before them. “Nate!” You smiled, making your way to him, and hugging him tightly. Nate hugged you back just as tight, but his eyes did not leave the tall man that had been by your side.

“Who is this?” He asked, discontent clear in his voice.

“Oh!” You turned to face Bruce, arm linked with Nathan’s. “This is Bruce! I told you about him, remember? He’s my friend.”

“You did tell me about your friend. You did not mention your friend was the Bruce Wayne.”

“Well, that’s because he’s not the Bruce Wayne to me. He’s just Bruce.” You smiled, and Nathan didn't seem too pleased once Bruce extended his hand.

“Bruce Wayne.” He spoke. Nathan shook his hand, steel-like eyes taking the taller man in, his expensive clothes and pulled-together appearance.

“Nathan Smith. So, you’re my girl’s friend, is that right?” He asked, pulling you closer by the waist. It wasn't hard to miss the jealous look in his face, and Bruce decided to ease the guy’s mind a bit, not wanting to get into any trouble. And not wanting to get you into any trouble.

“Yes, that’s right. I’ve heard a lot about you, it’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Yeah? That’s funny because she’s barely said a word about you.” Nathan replied, offering Bruce a tight-lipped smile, and turning to you. “I came here to surprise you. Heard you were getting an early night, wanted to give you a lift home. Maybe we can make up for lost time? I miss you.” It did not take an idiot to see what the hell he was getting at, and it made your duck your head slightly, clearly embarrassed.

“That’s very kind of you, thank you. I loved the surprise.” You faced Bruce once again and offered him an apologetic smile. “Nate will take me home, if that’s fine by you.”

“Fine by him? What's this got to do with him?” Your boyfriend asked, chuckling dryly, and giving you a not so amused look.

“Bruce had offered to take me home. It was kind of him, so I said yes.”

“Yes, yes, very kind.” Nathan turned to Bruce too. “As you can see, your help is no longer needed. I’ll be taking my girlfriend home now.” He said the words with a sneer, happy to claim you as his.

“Yes, well. Thank you for taking care of her.”

“Oh, I do.”

You looked awkwardly in between both men and cleared your throat moving away from your boyfriend to envelop Bruce in a hug.

“Thank you for the surprise. It was really nice. And thanks for the offer too. The ride back home one. I’ll see you some other day?”

“Absolutely,” He replied and turned to leave.

As he walked away, he could hear Nathan’s voice and how accusatory it sounded.

“Surprise? What was that all about? Why was that guy visiting you at work?”

“He’s a friend, Nate. He just wanted to stop by.”

“Oh yeah? And what business does he have just stopping by? He’s not your boyfriend. I am.”

“He’s just a friend, Nate. I promise. Let's just go home, please? I miss you.”

Bruce was inside his car before he could properly make out whatever Nathan had replied to you, but he could tell it was nothing good.

The next time Bruce saw you, you were sitting by yourself at a coffee shop, having an iced drink and reading a book. He thought about approaching you but decided against it. You looked peaceful, and he didn't want to upset you should you not want to see him after the whole ordeal with your boyfriend went down.

But he was pleasantly surprised when he heard your voice call his name, and your hand beckoning him to come closer.

“Hey! I had no idea you came to this place. Wanna sit next to me?” You asked, moving your bag out of the chair in front of you, making space for him,

“Sometimes, on my lunch break. I take it today is your day off?”

“Mhm! Got today all to myself. I was supposed to spend it with Nathan, but we kind of fought so I decided to get some fresh air myself. You know, just to clear my head.” You said the words “kind of fought” as if they meant nothing, as if fighting with your boyfriend was a daily occurrence. He didn't like that.

“I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?” Bruce sat down in front of you, placing his own coffee on the table.

“Nah, not really. That’s just who Nate is. He gets upset sometimes, and I have to put some space in between us. No big deal. What about you? What are you up to?”

“Well, like I mentioned, this was supposed to be my lunch break, but I took the afternoon off. Alfred – my butler – is supposed to come pick me up later. It’s the anniversary of my parents’ marriage. I want to visit their graves.”

Your eyes softened and you placed a hand on top of his. Your palm felt warm on top of his, and Bruce immediately turned his hand so he could slot his fingers in between yours.

“I’m sorry.” Was all you said. After all, what more could you? Everyone knew Bruce Wayne’s story, but you did not want to seem presumptuous and assume you knew all about him. “I’m sure they’ll appreciate it.”

“Me too,” Bruce replied quietly, his voice thick with emotion, the way it usually was whenever he mentioned his parents. He didn't speak about them to many people, but let his facade slip completely for those he did trust enough.

“Is it okay if I come with?” You asked, and immediately regretted it. Why would you ask such a thing? Why would he even allow you to attend such a private thing with him? It was dumb, really. Before you could take your words back though, he replied, eyebrow quirked.

“Really?”

You shrugged sheepishly.

“Sure. It sounds tough, and I don’t want you to suffer all by yourself. You tend to do that.”

It was true. Bruce often hid his feelings, his emotions, shielding them from everyone. It hadn’t been that long since you two had started talking – maybe one or two months – but you could already tell he was very selective with the people he trusted. And how could he not be? You wanted to be someone he could trust, though. Wanted to be someone he could rely on, help him shoulder all his burdens.

Bruce thought it over for a bit. It would be nice to have some company. Visiting his parents’ grave was a very personal and intimate thing, yes, but he considered you a friend, and he’d be lying if he said he didn't want your company. He was sure both his father and his mother would've liked you, would've enjoyed your sense of humour and appreciated his kindness. So why not?

“I would appreciate that,” he said, and you smiled. “Won't it be a problem with Nathan?”

“Don't worry about him. He’s not the boss of me, and I'm not doing anything wrong.”

That’s how you found yourself, standing in front of the graves of Thomas and Martha Wayne, the beautiful Wayne Manor just ahead.

“I’m sure they loved each other very much,” you said, eyes not leaving the carved stones in front of you.

“They did.” Bruce agreed with a nod. “My father would bring my mother flowers nearly every day. She used to joke about having her own private flower shop thanks to him. He never stopped though. He’d bring her different flowers according to her mood. That’s just how he was. Always looking out for her. He could tell whenever she was sad, or happy, or worried.”

“What an amazing husband,” you smiled, picturing the late Thomas Wayne reading his wife and choosing flowers accordingly.

“And my mother was just as amazing as him. She could tell when he had had a bad day at the hospital. I never could – she used to tell me she could sense it in the first few steps he took whenever he arrived home. Whenever he felt down, she’d help Alfred make his favourite meal. He didn't have to ask, she simply did it out of the goodness of her heart, and all her love for him.”

“It must've been incredible to be surrounded by such love. You were very lucky, Bruce. And I'm sure your parents loved you just as much as they loved each other, if not even more.”

You smiled up at him and he offered you a small smile in return. You were right. He had been lucky to have experienced such love and affection at a young age. It made him realise the kind of relationship he wanted to be with and taught him the kind of partner he should be.

He was just about to speak when your phone started chiming.

“Sorry – forgot to mute it,” you mumbled, turning the sound off. It didn't do anything to quiet it down though, since it just kept vibrating in your pocket. You huffed and turned it on, brows furrowing in confusion, and then relaxing.

“It’s Nate,” you said, not looking up from the screen, “He’s apologising for our fight. Says he was in a very bad emotional state. Poor thing… He’s very self-conscious, you know. Keeps telling me he’s too lucky to have me, that I could have anyone in the world, but I settled for him. He always thinks he’s not good enough for me, that I'll leave him for someone else” You chuckled dryly, before continuing, “He couldn't be farther from the truth, though. I’m the lucky one.” You looked up and Bruce and pointed to the phone in your hand. “I should probably go. Nate wants to apologise in person, and I should probably talk to him.”

Bruce nodded and pointed to the limo standing near the street.

“Alfred will take you home.”

“Thanks.” You smiled up and him and moved forward to hug him. Bruce softened immediately. You slotted perfectly against him, and he felt like a piece of a puzzle that had just found its matching half. Unfortunately, you pulled away, taking all the warmth with you.

“I’ll see you some other time,” you said, walking away.

Once you were out of his view, he turned to his parents.

Perhaps someday he’d be able to love you like they loved each other.

Bruce was working when he received a text from you. It had been a few days since you’d visited his parents’ grave with him, and you hadn't spoken face-to-face since. You’d been texting non-stop though, telling each other about your day, sending pictures of your respective meals, or just sharing funny anecdotes or pictures you saw online that reminded you of each other. Bruce clicked on the notification with your name.

Look at this!

[1 file attached]

Clicking on the picture, he could see your radiant face, partially hidden by a huge bouquet of roses. They did nothing to steal the shine from you though, and Bruce cringed at how they paled in comparison to your beauty. He was quick to shoot back a reply,

They look pretty. Secret admirer?

You were even quicker to reply.

They’re from Nate, as an apology! Isn't he the sweetest? He’s been spoiling me rotten. I don't think I deserve it.

Bruce’s stomach twisted at the mention of your boyfriend. His fingers flew across the screen as he typed.

You deserve that, and much more.

You replied with a smiley face, and that was the end of your conversation for the day.

It was hard to get back to work after that, his thoughts plagued with you. Your nice smile, your kind words, the way you fit perfectly against the shape of his body and how tightly you’d hugged him back on the Manor grounds. He knew it was wrong to want you - you were dating someone else, and it’s not like you knew each other for a long time, but he couldn't help it.

Bruce took a deep breath, and gulped down an entire glass of water, before chastising himself and focusing on whatever task he had left to complete.

It didn't work, and Lucius found him staring at the screen of his phone for a good five minutes, before deciding his boss probably deserved a break from his somewhat incessant teasing.

After that, you met up with Bruce a few more times.

You’d meet up sometimes for lunch or a late afternoon snack, and you’d even had breakfast together once. You chalk it up to friendly outings, and so does Bruce (although he’s sadder than you to admit that). Unfortunately, these meetings were not filled with chatter about your lives, motivations, and dreams for the future. Instead, you worried your pretty little head off thinking about Nathan, who didn’t text you for hours, seemingly pushing away from you, only to give you mixed signals the next day and apologising for his behaviour. Bruce could see how draining it was, could see how you always glanced at your phone whenever the two of you were together, and how you seemed to walk on eggshells whenever Nathan called you.

Things would get harder for the two of you at night – Bruce was out patrolling the city as Batman, something he had not and would never tell you – and you sometimes you got lonely. Bruce simply told you he was busy, and you in good faith, believed him. After all, he was a busy man, running a busy company, leading a busy life. You were lucky enough he managed to spend some time with you during the week.

Bruce had become your closest friend. You loved hanging out with him. It was like he got you. He was a great listener, always providing you with great insight whenever you asked for it, or simply being a shoulder to cry on if you wanted to. He would give you solid advice, support you on (nearly) every decision and all of your hobbies, encouraging you to seek out new experiences and the things you’ve always wanted to do but were never brave enough to.

One day, the two of you were meeting up for coffee. You had your legs tucked under yourself, grabbing a warm mug with both of your hands. You loved this café; loved the ambient, the fluffy pillows and couches, the vast choice of drinks. It was your own special little corner, and you were happy to bring Bruce along.

You two were in a middle of a conversation about your favourite books, before your phone buzzed. You decided to ignore it, but it just buzzed again. And again. And again. A bunch of texts messages started coming through, and as you picked up your phone, it started ringing.

“It’s Nate,” you mumbled, accepting the call, and mouthing a small “sorry” to Bruce, who nodded.

“Hey honey,” you said. Bruce could make out your boyfriend’s voice from the other side of the line, and he could tell he wasn’t pleased.

“Where the hell are you!?” he heard Nathan say, and you involuntarily flinched in your seat, frowning.

“I’m at a café. I told you this, didn’t I?” you asked.

“Yeah, well, Ricky just texted me saying he saw you sitting with some other guy. What the fuck is going on?”

“Another guy?” you mumbled, “Nate, I’m with Bruce. We’re out for coffee, that’s all.”

Bruce heard Nathan scoff, and his fists curled on his lap. He was just glad you couldn’t see it.

“Ah, of course. Fucking Bruce. It’s always him, isn’t it?”

This seemed to get you riled up.

“I asked you if you wanted to come with me, and you told me no. You said you had better things to do and hated this place,” you shook your head, brows furrowing in anger. “So, I invited a friend. I’m allowed to have other friends, you know.”

“Yeah, sure. And it had to be a guy? You had to invite a guy out for coffee? Just the two of you?”

You curled into yourself and away from Bruce, lowering your voice.

“Nate, if you cancel on me, I’m going to invite other people. It’s just Bruce.”

“That guy’s trying to get into your fucking pants, and you know it, and you keep encouraging him. How does that make me feel, huh? Knowing you’re out there with some other douche who wants to jump your bones?” Bruce wanted nothing more than to seek out the asshole you were dating and beating him to a pulp. How he even dared to speak to you like that was beyond him, but he decided to say nothing. At least not yet.

“Nate, I don’t like it when you talk to me like this. He’s just a friend, I told you, you have no reason to be jealous – “

“Yeah sure. Don’t bother coming home.”

And he hung up.

Bruce eyed you, the way your pretty eyes welled up with tears and how you quickly wiped them away, throwing your phone and belongings to the purse sitting next to you.

“I – I’m sorry, Bruce, I – I need to go. I have to sort this out with him.” You mumbled, standing up. Bruce, however, was quicker, and stood in front of you, blocking your path.

He furrowed his brows and spoke in a low voice as not to startle you.

“He shouldn’t talk to you like this.”

“He’s right. I know he is – I know he’s got low-self-esteem issues, he’s just worried is all. He’s afraid to lose me, I know he is.” You said these words like a mantra, and Bruce wondered just how long you’d been repeating them to yourself. It made his heart ache. He reached out to wipe your tears, but you took a step back, shaking your head.

“I’m sorry for cutting our meeting short, Bruce,” you mumbled. “I’ll see you later.”

And you were out of his sight.

“Hang out?” Bruce asked, balancing his phone between his ear and his shoulder as he shaved.

“Yeah!” he could hear your excited voice on the other side, and it made him smile. “It’ll be just me and Nate and some more friends. I know how you are with strangers, so you don’t have to come if you don’t want to, but I thought it’d be nice if you were out of your house for once. You spend all those nights working, you’ve gotta learn to have fun!”

It was partially true. He did spend all these nights working. Just not a very conventional job. In fact, he’d been spending the last few weeks looking into Nathan Smith. His past, his present, and making assumptions on his future. He had all eyes on this douche.

“Bruce? Are you there?” you called, “Look, I’m sorry. I know you’re not a fan of other people – “

“I’ll be there.” He said curtly, blade gliding against his smooth skin. “Just text me the details and I’ll meet you there.”

“Really?” you let out a squeal of excitement and Bruce nearly cut himself with the sound. He realised then just how much he wanted you to be like that all the time. Happy. Excited.

“Really.”

“Okay – okay! I’ll let you know where and when! I can’t wait to see you again! I have to go now though, my shift’s about to start. See you soon, yes?” You hung up and Bruce chuckled to himself. He couldn’t wait to see you either. He wasn’t, although, very eager to see Nathan. But for your sake, he’d be on his best behaviour.

You met a few days after the phone call, at a local bar.

It was bustling with people and energy. Loud music was being played on speakers, the whole place smelled of cheap beer, and the people’s noise was deafening. Still, he overlooked all of that just for the sheer pleasure of hanging out with you.

“Bruce!” You called out, getting up from your spot near the counter and hurrying to meet him halfway. You hugged him tightly and he once again felt like you were meant to be in his arms forever. When you pulled away, he smiled. “You made it!” You were wearing an off-the-shoulder top and a pair of shorts decorated with small lace at the bottom. But Bruce couldn’t care less about what you were wearing – you always looked radiant.

“Of course I did.”

“Here, come meet my friends!”

You dragged him to a small group of people and introduced him to everyone. He was expecting more and was glad to find it was only you plus 4 others. Nathan was still on his way, you told him.

All of you kept light conversation for a while. Bruce did not really try to keep up with your friends’ conversations. One of them kept rubbing herself all up against him, giggling and obviously trying to get herself into his good graces. She was clearly only interested in his money, and Bruce had to excuse himself a few times just to get away.

After a few minutes, your head turned and you smiled, standing up to greet someone.

Nate.

“Hey honey!” You smiled, lifting your head to kiss him on the lips. Nathan quickly scanned the table, and once his eyes fell on Bruce, he scowled, one hand coming down to grip your waist, and the other to give you a light squeeze on your ass cheek (which made Bruce cringe and want to punch this jerk to next Sunday).

“Hello. Didn’t know we’d be having so much company,” the doctor sneered, eyes lingering on the Wayne billionaire.

“Well, if you don’t like me meeting up with friends on my own, I thought we could all meet up. Isn’t it a nice solution?” you smiled, but Nate didn’t seem to care about it. How dare he, Bruce thought. If you were his, he would never overlook your smile. Never. But she’s not yours, a tiny voice whispered inside his head.

Nate then turned to you, eyeing you up and down. His eyes lingered on your exposed collarbone and shoulders, and on the shorts that adorned your pretty legs. He sneered.

“And what the fuck is this?” he asked with a scoff.

“Hm?”

“What the fuck are you wearing?”

“Oh! These are new!” you spun in your place, showing off your outfit. “Do you like them? I thought the lace details were super cute – “

“So you’re wearing this out?” Nate crossed his arms, visibly upset. “Seriously? Don’t you think it’s a bit too revealing?”

It wasn’t, really. The top, even if it was off-the-shoulder, did not expose your cleavage too shockingly. The shorts weren’t too short either, covering just the right amount of skin. And even if the clothes were too short (which they weren’t), Bruce thought Nathan should just mind his fucking business.

“You think so?” your smile was quickly replaced by a pout, and you looked down at your clothes self-consciously.

“Yes, I fucking think so. I don’t understand why you feel the need to dress like that, show that much skin. People might get the wrong idea.”

“What wrong idea? Nate, they’re just clothes. There’s nothing wrong with them.”

The atmosphere had become tense. Your friends were all giving each other knowing looks but kept to themselves. Bruce didn’t have the heart to simply stand there and watch though. He put an arm in between you and Nathan and spoke calmly.

“Look, I think she should be allowed to wear whatever she wants. It’s not like she’s naked – “

“Stay the hell out of this, rich guy. I couldn’t care less what you think, this is not your relationship, and she is my girlfriend.”

Bruce looked at you, but you seemed to be avoiding his gaze, eyes fixated on Nathan.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think they were that revealing when I tried them on. I just liked how they looked on me.”

“Yeah, well, I’m fucking embarrassed to be seen with you when you dress like that. Dressed like a common whore.”

That was enough for Bruce. He stepped forward, ready to send his fist flying across this jerk’s face, but your smaller hand wrapped itself around his arm.

“Bruce, please,” you pleaded, looking up at him with wide eyes. “It’s okay. He’s right. I am showing too much skin. I should dress more modestly.”

“He’s being a jerk,” Bruce muttered, eyes urging you to let him go. “I’m not letting him speak to you like that.”

“Please.” You sounded so meek, so small. It tugged at Bruce’s heartstrings, and he immediately lowered his arm. He’d do anything for you, really.

“Fine.”

“Yeah, that’s better.” Nathan scoffed, before grabbing you by the arm and pulling you close. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

Without sparing him a second glance, you were out of the bar.

“I’m telling you, Alfred, that guy is the worst. I don’t understand how she’s still with him, he treats her like shit,” Bruce muttered to himself as he paced back and forth in his bedroom.

“Master Wayne, although I admire your compassion, I cannot help but wonder if you are sticking your nose in someone else’s business.” Alfred replied. He’d been watching Bruce walk holes into the floor, and although he wanted to help, the older man knew there was really nothing he could do.

“I know. I know I am but – she deserves better. She does, she deserves someone who’ll treat her right, who won’t talk to her that way, who will respect her and adore her – “

“Someone like you, I presume.”

“Yes. Exactly.”

Bruce sighed and sat on his bed, defeated.

“Master Wayne, have you considered telling this girl the feelings you’re harbouring for her?” Alfred asked, moving closer to the bed.

“I can’t. She loves him Alfred, she… she loves him.” He muttered again.

The butler gave Bruce a sympathetic smile, before walking away.

You loved Nathan. You didn’t love him.

So why did it all feel so terribly wrong?

You walked inside Wayne Manor for the first time a few weeks later.

It was raining – pouring, even – and you’d desperately knocked on its big doors. Alfred opened them for you, and recognised you instantly, having stolen glances at Bruce’s phone whenever he looked at pictures of you.

“Hi – Hi, I’m sorry for the intrusion,” you quickly introduced yourself, tears running down your face. “Is – is Bruce here?”

Alfred gently guided you to the living room, where he told you to wait. You stood there awkwardly, picking at your fingers, and looking around, taking in the beauty of Bruce’s family home.

When Alfred returned, he brought with him a few towels, and Bruce Wayne himself. The latter was just about to leave for patrol, but upon hearing from Alfred that you were standing on his doorway, drenched from head to toe and crying, he decided to ditch his nightly duties.

“Hey,” he said, hurrying towards you. It was all it took – you collapsed in his arms, tears running down your face. Bruce held you tightly and you cried, burrowing your face in his chest. Alfred simply placed the towels on top of one of the couches, and took his leave, silently going upstairs to get a robe for you. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”

Once you managed to stop crying, you looked up at him and sniffled, shaking your head.

“I’m so sorry – you’re all wet because of me now,” you told him.

Bruce shook his head and moved to hand you a towel.

“It’s okay. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

You sighed and used the towel to dry your hair, wrapping the other one around your shoulders.

“It… it was Nathan.”

Bruce looked at you, eyes narrowing.

“What did he do?”

“Nothing! I mean – we just fought, that’s all. But it was a really nasty fight.” You said and burst into tears again. “He – he kept saying all I did was walk around and cheat on him! He said I didn’t truly love him, that I was selfish and only thought of myself. It – it’s not true! I love him Bruce, I really do!” You buried your face on your hands, and Bruce moved to sit by your side.

Bruce held you tightly in his arms, hand stroking your back and your head. You melted in his hold, breath evening out and tears eventually subsiding.

"I just... I don't know what to do, Bruce..." You mumbled against his chest. "I really do love him, but he said all of those mean things..."

Bruce's lips pressed into a thin line as he navigated the best way to go about this conversation.

"Nathan..." He mumbled, hands running through your hair. "Does he speak to you like this a lot?"

You sniffled, stilling in his arms.

"We fight... Lately we've been fighting a lot, but... I know he loves me... He doesn't mean it. He's been under so much stress, things at the hospital are getting chaotic and I've been stressing him out..."

Bruce shook his head, his hold unconsciously tightening around you. So he took his stress out on you? Jerk.

"That's not okay. He can't speak to you like this, he doesn't have the right to." Bruce pulled away to look you in the eyes and you sniffled as his big hands wiped your tears.

"He doesn't mean any harm, you know... He's under a lot of pressure from his superiors..."

He sighed once again, and then watched from the corner of his eyes as Alfred carried in his hand a tray of warm drinks and a fluffy robe.

"Look," he said, tilting your chin to meet his gaze. "How about you change into something more comfortable, and we'll talk about it over a drink?"

You smiled and nodded, getting up and thanking Alfred, grabbing the robe so you could go change.

Once you came back, you told Bruce you did not want to talk about such sad topics any further, and simply wanted to distract yourself. Bruce was happy to oblige.

You settled in the couch side by side with a blanket covering your laps. He let you pick a movie, and you sat side by side, poking fun at whatever it was that was playing on the TV, sipping on warm beverages, and talking.

“So you’re telling me you don’t know how to make a cup of tea?” You asked, leaning back to look at Bruce with a serious expression.

“Look, I was a failure and I decided it was better not to learn instead of having Alfred annoy me about it. He’s very serious about his tea. You should hear him yell at me.”

You chuckled and involuntarily placed your legs over Bruce’s lap under the blankets. He was quick to lay his hands on top of them, drawing patterns absentmindedly.

“You’re impossible,” you chuckled.

“Oh, so you’re all high and mighty and capable of cooking anything and everything?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Even if I wasn't very good, I'm sure I'd be able to cook more than you. I had to, you know. Living on my own and all,” you shrugged, “Some people don’t have butlers doing everything for them.”

Bruce hummed. You were right. It was one of the things he admired the most about you. How unafraid you were to tell him exactly what you think, and how resilient you were, how strong-willed and stubborn. Bruce was sure he’d never met a woman as strong as you in his entire life.

“Alright, pay up.” You extended your hand.

Now you were sitting a few inches apart, a Monopoly board on the couch in front of you.

“You’re cheating,” he huffed, counting his bills.

“No, you’re simply not very good. Aren't you like, supposed to be a god at this or something? This is your whole life.” You popped a popcorn inside your mouth and smiled.

“Usually, lives aren't dictated by the throw of a dice,” he said, handing you two bills. “You're ruining me here. I’m gonna go bankrupt.”

“Then learn how to play better.” You shrugged and rolled your dice again, moving your piece accordingly. Bruce smiled. He could get used to this, spending time with you, cuddled up in his couch. That's where you were meant to be, next to him, in his arms, in his blankets. You were meant to be in his home, brightening up the place with something as small as a smile, in his life, brightening his whole existence with just a tilt of your head. It was at this moment that Bruce realised that his feelings for you ran way deeper than just a simple friendship. After all, friends didn't wish to spend eternity together. Friends didn't want to lick the popcorn salt off each other’s lips, friends didn't want to hold each other close and whisper sweet nothings in their ear.

As the night went on, so did the activities. When you were done with board games, you switched to card games (getting your ass kicked by Bruce, who was far too good at Poker for your own liking). You changed movies about three times, simply not satisfied with the choices you’d picked earlier – not that Bruce minded. You’d made a game out of changing movies every time the characters gave you second hand embarrassment and had plenty of fun yelling at the protagonists who slipped and stuttered and acted like bozos.

“Oh, come on,” you cringed, body twitching involuntarily. “Why is she singing Fight Song on top of a table? Do directors think this is how people behave?”

“You stood on top of my couch and yelled. I think that’s close to what’s happening on the TV,” The man next to you eyed you with amusement as you scoffed and pointed an accusatory finger at him.

“That’s different, I won Monopoly,” you said nonchalantly, “Everyone knows you’re entitled to do whatever you want once you win Monopoly.” You grabbed a pillow and threw it in his direction, but you should've known better, because Bruce simply picked it mid-air and raised it in front of his head, to hit you back. However, at the sudden movement, your eyes widened, and you quickly flinched away from him, panic spreading all over your face.

Bruce let go of the pillow, heart breaking at the sight before him. What the fuck had just happened? Did you flinch away from him?

“I – “ You seemed to notice his worry and were quick to shake your head, laughing weakly. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you okay?” He asked, torn between reaching out and staying in place. He didn't want to scare you even more than he already had.

“Yes! Yes, I am. I’m sorry, I wasn't expecting you to do that. Was just trying to get away from the pillow.”

“You scrambled away from me.”

“Well, yes, you were going to hit me with a pillow, weren't you, Bruce?”

“I would never hurt you. You know that,” he whispered, and you looked away, still trying to pretend everything was fine.

“Well, I didn't want a pillow on my face. Alright? It’s nothing, I promise.”

He wasn't convinced in the least, and Bruce knew what it usually meant. His mind went back to Nathan, to the way he had treated you at the bar, to his behaviour towards you whenever you and Bruce were out for ice-cream or coffee. The gears were turning in his head, and you took notice of that, moving forward and holding his hands.

“Hey,” you smiled, although it didn't reach your eyes, “It’s fine. I promise. Everything is okay.”

He didn't believe it. Didn't buy it. But he had to earn your trust if he wanted to do something about it, and scaring you away wasn't an option.

He attempted to smile back, and nodded, muttering a small “Alright.”

You settled back next to him, and he could feel the way your body had tensed up as soon as your arms had brushed together. He needed to calm you down. So, he spoke.

About his life, about his childhood. He told you about all the times his father would let him tag along whenever he went to work at the hospital, how fascinated he was with his occupation. Saving lives. How great was that. He told you how much his father’s work had inspired him. He explained to you the intricate games he’d play in his gardens, pretending to be a detective who was investigating every sort of crimes. He wanted to save lives, just like his father did.

“You do, you know,” you mumbled, looking up from under his chin to get a good look at his beautiful face. “Even if you’re not a doctor, you still save lives. You make people’s lives better. All your philanthropy and charity are helping Gotham. You’re not doing this in vain.”

He smiled. If only you knew how much his charity and philanthropy extended.

You replied with stories of your own. The things you liked to do while growing up, the games you’d make up in your room, thinking of faraway lands with castles and elves and fantasies. You’d be a police officer one day, and a pirate the next. You told him about your childhood home, your high school, your college major. You showed him pictures of your roommates and the fun activities you did together.

It was an exchange. You’d tell him about yourself, and he would open up to you in return. The TV was still on, and both of you were looking at it, but none was paying attention. Your conversation was much more important.

Bruce told you about his childhood, how lonely he would feel sometimes. He told you sometimes he would isolate himself, the grief of having lost his parents far too much to bear. It made your heart ache and you found yourself leaning closer, wishing to take all of his pain away.

"You don't have to suffer all on your own now, though," you said, looking up to meet his chocolate brown eyes. "I'm here now. You can count on me to help you with whatever. You can trust me, Bruce." Your hand was suddenly on his cheek, palm hot and caring, and Bruce instantly leaned into it, sure that this was where he was meant to be – in your arms, staring into your eyes, baring his soul open. The air crackled in between you – it was as if the world had shifted and finally landed in place. It felt right. Everything felt right, and your eyes briefly drifted towards his lips.

He was just about to say something when a few loud knocks could be heard on the door. Your head whipped around in panic, the sound clearly startling you (something Bruce kept in mind).

"Alfred, could you please get that?" He asked, arm wrapping itself around you in an unconsciously protective move. You relaxed in his hold just as quickly as you’d stiffened, and his heart leaped. Did you feel safe with him?

The door slid open, revealing behind it a massive bouquet of red roses. The roses moved and Bruce quickly spotted the figure who was holding them.

"Nate?" You whispered, untangling yourself from Bruce's hold and taking tentative steps towards the door. Shit.

"Babe – hey," Nathan replied, sighing with relief once he spotted you. "I'm so sorry, I – I'm such an idiot. I'm the worst."

You eyed him sceptically, something like doubt shining in your eyes.

"I shouldn't have said any of those things. The hospital has been so busy, my bosses have been giving me shit every day, and I took it out on you. I'm so sorry, will you please forgive me?"

You hugged your arms, shielding yourself. You looked back at Bruce, who was watching the situation, lips a thin line and eyes cloudy.

"I didn't like the way you spoke to me... You really hurt, Nate, did you mean all of those things?"

"No! No – fuck no, I didn't. I was an idiot. I am an idiot. Please, let me make it up to you. I don't deserve you, but if you forgive me, I'll spend the rest of my days trying to prove to you I am worthy of your love. I'm so sorry. I'll be better. I promise. Babe, you make me better."

Bruce wasn't fazed by this speech. He didn't buy a single word of what Nathan had just told you, and once again, he would not keep it to himself. This man was manipulating you, preying on your emotions and your love for him, probably even going as far as laying his hands on you, and you deserved better.

"Perhaps you should've thought of those things before you treated her like shit." He said coldly, standing up and walking towards you. You turned away from him, which had Bruce's heart clench. Why were you turning from him?

But he didn't need to give it much more thought – you were already falling for Nathan's narrative.

"You – " Nathan's grip tightened. Bruce saw the way it tightened and saw your eyes land on his fist as well. This caused him to loosen it, and give a small, dry chuckle. "Bruce. Thank you so much for taking care of her. Truly. I'm so thankful you took care of my girl when she wasn't feeling well."

You raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yes, babe, really. He's your friend, and I'm willing to get along with your friends. I'd do anything for you, you know it. Don't you?" He stuck out his hands, presenting to you the bouquet of roses in one hand, and a box of chocolates in the other. It was only now that Bruce (and apparently, you as well) realised that both items, as well as the person who was carrying them, were dripping wet.

"You came all the way out here in the rain to apologise?" You asked, stepping out towards the man standing outside the door.

"Yes. Of course. I would do this and more for you, baby. You know that, don't you? I'll do anything for you. You drive me nuts, that's it. That's all! It's only because I love you so much that I act like this. Please give me another chance. I won't waste it. I know you deserve better than me, you could literally get any guy out there, but fuck... Please, just let me prove to you that you make me a better man." He looked desperate, panicked, blue eyes widening with fear.

It was useless. You were completely entranced by the manipulative bullshit this guy was spewing.

“Do you promise not to yell at me again?” You asked, taking another step towards him, fingers softly touching the rose petals.

“Yes. I do. I’ll never do it again – I promise babe. I’ll be better. I am better whenever I am with you. I know I overreacted, but it’s only because I love you. You make me crazy – I am crazy, for you.”

You looked up at him, something unsure in your eyes. You glanced back at Bruce, who furrowed his eyebrows and softly shook his head “no”. It wasn't a command or an order, simply some advice. This jerk didn't deserve you. You turned back to look at Nathan and took the roses he was holding from him.

“These are really pretty,” you mumbled, inhaling their scent.

“Not as pretty as you. So, what do you say? Will you forgive me? Please? Just give me another chance.”

You seemed to ponder it, quietly analysing the roses before you. Then, a bigger smile spread across your face, and you nodded, moving towards Nathan to wrap your arms around his neck. He sighed in relief and hugged you back, burrowing his face in your hair. When his gaze caught Bruce’s, his eyes hardened. If looks could kill, Bruce would be dead and gone. Perhaps it’s a good thing he wasn't scared of this jerk.

You let go of your boyfriend and turned to Bruce, holding the bouquet tightly in your hands.

“Thank you for your kindness, Bruce.”

“Are you sure about this – “

“But this is my relationship. We’re friends, aren’t we? I need you to trust me here, okay? It’s fine. Nathan’s apologised. Everything is okay now,” you smiled, and Bruce swore he could see something breaking behind your eyes.

“He doesn’t deserve you, he yelled and – “

“Look, I said I was sorry, alright, rich boy?” Nate interrupted, spitting the words. “Mind your own business. This is my relationship, alright? I appreciate that you were here for my girl, but your help is no longer needed.”

Then, he turned, taking you away with him.

The last thing Bruce saw before Nathan’s car was out of you, was you leaning over the console to press a sweet kiss on his cheek.

He didn't like this one bit. And he was not going to rest until he was sure you were away from this guy.

He didn't see you for a while after that.

At least not directly.

During his patrols, he would stop by your apartment and watch for any signs of either you or him. But either you were extremely shy, or Nathan was very careful about not letting anyone peek into their lives, and usually closed the blinds. Bruce was sure it was the latter. He could no longer peek inside – Lucius had destroyed the system that had allowed him to spy on every citizen in Gotham, after all – and was stuck texting you and trying to pry information from you.

The only thing you told him was that everything was fine. Nathan was a gentleman, taking you out for dinner and showering you in gifts, telling you he loved you. According to you, things couldn't be better.

Your texting patterns would be sporadic. Some days, he’d spend all day chatting with you, sending pictures and things that had reminded him of you, making plans to meet up and grab a bite. Others, you’d ignore him all day, giving him one-worded replies once or twice.

“Alfred, I just don’t know what to do,” he confessed once. “I’m pretty sure the bastard might be hitting her or something. The way she acts, the way he acts? Yelling at her, fighting, and then showering her with gifts and affection? It doesn't sit right with me.”

“Have you thought about reporting it to the police, sir?”

“I don’t have enough evidence,” he grumbled. “She flinched once, and they fight. That doesn't necessarily mean he’s abusive towards her. Besides, what if anyone investigates it, does not notice anything wrong, and he gets angrier? What if he takes it out on her?” Bruce placed his hands on his face and laid his arms on his knees. It was a tricky situation. If he wasn't abusive but was still a scumbag, he doubted you’d ever leave him. If he did hurt you in any physical way, he might be risking your own safety in case he reported anything.

Suddenly, his phone chimed, and he was pulled from his thoughts as your ringtone played. He picked up on the first ring.

“Hello?”

You were breathing heavily but did not say anything. Bruce was starting to worry.

“Hello? Is everything okay?”

“Yes – yes, it is,” you quickly said, and your voice held a foreign emotion to it, something Bruce couldn't quite place. “I’m sorry, I know it’s short notice, but do you want to grab something to eat? I was supposed to meet a friend, but she cancelled on me.”

Bruce looked up towards Alfred, who nodded in acknowledgement.

“Yes, sure. Of course, I'll meet you. Did you have any place in mind?”

“There’s this sandwich place near Gotham Mall, perhaps we could go there? I’ve been meaning to try it out for a while, but… Well, it’s just never been a right time. I’ll text you the address if you want to.” Something was up with your voice. You didn't usually sound so unconfident, at least not with him.

“I’d appreciate that. I’ll meet you there in 20. That okay?”

“Yeah, that’s perfect. Thank you, Bruce.” There was a small tilt to your voice that Bruce paired up with a smile, and then you hung up.

20? He’d be there in 10.

Bruce was already sitting down by a window, wearing a casual dark blue polo when you walked in. It was impossible to miss him – you found him the most handsome man in the world, with his beautifully carved jawline and his kind eyes.

What were you even saying? You have a boyfriend. Control yourself. If he knew you were even having these thoughts…

Instinctively, you wrapped your jacket tighter around you.

Once Bruce spotted you, he stood up to meet you halfway. You hugged him briefly, tensing under his touch, which he simply chalked up to awkwardness after that night. Had you felt the same he had? Was that why you were acting so strange?

“Thank you for meeting me,” you sighed, sitting down. “My friend cancelled last minute; I didn’t know who else to call. I hope you don’t feel like a last resort or anything – you were actually the first person I thought about.”

Bruce nodded. A waitress came over and asked you both if you would like to see the menu. You looked over at the options and a small smile was pulled from your lips. Once Bruce had picked a Caprese sandwich, you asked for a Pesto Chicken one, and a lemonade. The waitress smiled at you both (well, she smiled at Bruce), grabbed your menus (making it a show of bending over to show off her cleavage) and walked away.

Bruce, however, didn’t seem to notice, seeing as his eyes were on you.

“Is everything okay?”

You looked away, before meeting his gaze. And you smiled. It was gentle, and soft, and fake. Bruce knew, because he plastered on the same smile whenever he had to attend galas full of people whose only interest were his last name and his bank account.

“Yeah! I’m just tired, I think. Haven’t been sleeping well.”

Bruce’s gaze landed on your figure. You were leaning on your right arm, staring absentmindedly at the counter. You were wearing a pretty denim jacket, and a simple purple shirt underneath, as well as a pair of jeans. It wasn’t a very flashy outfit, and yet he thought you looked gorgeous.

“Aren’t you going to take that off?” he asked, nodding towards the jacket you were wearing.

“Hm?” You turned to him and blinked repeatedly. “Oh – no. No need, I’m kind of chilly. How have you been?”

Rather good at deflecting attention, you were. He decided to play along for the time being.

“I’ve been good. Work has been hectic, but what else could you expect when you’re running a company,” he sighed. “I’ve been worried about you, though. You’ve been ignoring me for a few days – are you sure you’re doing okay?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Work has been hectic as well. The restaurant is going through a few renovations, and we know have more tables to wait. It’s been a hard adjustment, but I’m doing my best.”

“I’m sure you are,” he smiled.

After that, conversation flowed easily, as it usually did between you two. Your sandwiches arrived and you tried each other’s comparing tastes and flavours, trying to prove to each other that your choice was superior. You told him about your new patrons at your job, an old couple who left you extremely big tips and called you “darling” every time you walked by. In return, he told you about this big investor who was interested in a fundraising project to combat poverty in Gotham.

It was as nice as always, and when the bill came, he reached for it without batting an eye.

“Hey – Mr, let me. You can’t just pay for everything.” You chided, reaching out to grab the bill from his hands.

“No, that’s out of the question,” he replied, as casually as asking about the weather. “You don’t have to pay for anything when you’re with me.”

“Bruce,” you whined half-jokingly, still trying to fetch the piece of paper from him. He lifted it over his head, and you huffed, leaning back once again. “You can’t pay for everything every time we’re out.”

“Why not?” Bruce raised an eyebrow. “I’m allowed to spoil you. Aren’t I?”

The word spoil had you turn your head, heat creeping up to your cheeks.

“I don’t deserve to be spoiled.”

“Sure you do. If anyone deserves to be spoiled, it’s you.”

You looked into his eyes for a few moments, unable to form any words. Every time you were with him, you felt your heart warm. You felt like everything was right. It was easy to talk with Bruce. To Bruce. You felt like you could tell him just about anything.

Not anything.

“How about we go for a walk?” Bruce asked. You nodded and moved to get up.

But as you did so, the left sleeve of your jacket got stuck on your table. You pulled away, causing your whole arm to be exposed to him, a large bruise running along it. Your eyes widened and you panicked, forcefully pulling your jacket from the chair, and wrapping it around yourself again.

You heard Bruce call out your name, but you were far too focused on picking up your things and running out of the establishment, Bruce right behind you.

“Hey! Hey! Come black, please! Don’t go!” He wanted to scream, to yell, to reach out to you and hold you tight, but he knew doing any of those things could scare you off. He could lose you forever, and he was not going to let his anger at Nathan cloud his judgement.

You didn’t want to run, though. You crossed the street and stopped right in front of a park bench, tears streaming down your face. Once Bruce caught up with you, he maintained his distance, but remained close enough should you want to come closer. He called your name. Softly. As if it was some sort of prayer, a mantra. It felt nice coming from his lips. He sounded kind. Unlike…

“Who did that to you?” he asked, exasperation in his voice. There was no point dancing around the subject.

“No one. I tripped, and I fell, and I – “

“Please, don’t give me that crap.” His words were harsh, but his voice was soft, and everything was so confusing, all you could do was sit down on the bench in front of you and cry.

“I fell, Bruce. I’m so clumsy, I fell during one of my shifts at the restaurant and that’s all, I promise you.”

Bruce sat down next to you. A few inches, but still, next to you. His mind was running hot with anger. That bastard had done it, he’d actually touched you and hurt you, and Bruce was going to do everything in his power to make sure he never saw the light of the sun again. You raised your head and looked at Bruce. You thought he’d be looking at you with disgust, but there was none in his gaze. Only kindness, only softness.

“It was an accident…” you mumbled, and he had to move closer in order to make out the words you were saying. “It was my fault. I provoked him…”

There it was.

Not his fault. You’d provoked him.

Bruce did his best to school his features. He needed to be calm, he needed to look collected and cool. If he acted out and showed just how angry he was, he might scare you off, and that was the last thing he wanted to do. He didn’t want you to associate him to Nathan, to the monster who’d hurt you.

“Can you tell me what happened?” he asked.

“It, it was my fault…” you sobbed. “He came home from work, and he was so tired… He’d had a really rough day, and all he wanted was to come home to a nice warm dinner, but, but… I was so tired, Bruce, I was so tired, so I didn’t cook – not even for myself! And when he came home, he started shouting and telling me I wasn’t good for anything, that he couldn’t even count on me to make him dinner.” You hid your face in your hands and sobbed louder. “So – so I told him to cook his own dinner, and I know I shouldn’t, because he was so tired! And – and he got mad, and… He... he...”

“Can I come any closer?” you furrowed your brows. Why was Bruce asking that? Why was he being so sweet with you? Especially after you’d just told him you were a terrible girlfriend, being as selfish as to not cook for your boyfriend after a tiring day. But the only thing in his eyes was gentleness. And he was being so sweet with you. Did you even deserve such a treatment?

You nodded your head yes, and he slowly moved closer, hand picking up yours.

“You need to report him to the police.”

Your eyes widened, and you began to shake your head while he spoke.

“He hurt you. This is domestic violence, it’s abuse. You need to report him – “

“No. No, no, no – “

“He can’t keep hurting you like this. All the yelling, all the fights, he’s taking advantage of you, and you don’t deserve any of that. Honey, he’s hurting you – “~

“No, no, no, no, no, no – “

“He’s abusing you.”

“He’s not – he loves me, it was an accident – “

“It wasn’t an accident; he’s hurt you before – “

“He hasn’t!” you exclaimed, shaking your head, “He has not hurt me!”

“Not physically, maybe, but he treats you like shit, which also counts as abuse. Listen to me, please,” he moved closer and slowly lifted his hands to cup your face. He did it slowly, giving you plenty of time to adjust, react, move away from him, do anything to show your discomfort. You did not, so he held your face in a way that showed just how afraid he was that you would break.

“You deserve better. This scumbag is hurting you. Let me help you.”

You looked into his eyes, and the whole thing felt foreign to you. Being held so gently, being talked to so calmly, being regarded as something close to precious, to dear. Wasn’t this how relationships were supposed to go? Wasn’t Nathan supposed to be just like this?

“I love him…” you whispered, attempting to look away. Bruce did not let you. He kept his gaze focused on you. “I can’t leave him Bruce, I… He was so sorry… You should’ve seen him; he was so broken… He regretted it so much.”

"He looked broken because he's trying to fool you." Bruce let go of your face and held your hands in his, hoping to convey everything he meant just by this touch. "I can't stand and watch as he hurts you like this. Please let me do something. Let me help. I'll get him fired. I'll get him arrested. This can't go on; he can't keep hurting you – "

"I love him!" You sobbed, shaking your head. "I do, and he loves me, and he did not mean it! It was an accident! You can't do anything; you can't take him from me! Please, if you care about me in any way, don't do anything. We'll sort it out. I promise you it won't happen again, honest."

Bruce was torn. Torn between storming out of there and beating that asshole boyfriend of yours into a pulp and staying there comforting you. He wanted to do both so badly. He couldn't just stand aside and do nothing, but he also did not want to lose you forever. He could still do it, of course. Hurt Nathan, the same way he'd hurt you. But then he was most definitely sure he'd lose you forever. And would that be worth it? It would. He'd lose you, but you'd be safe. And wasn't that what mattered the most in the end?

"Please, Bruce... Trust me..." You whispered, looking deep into his eyes, trying to find some sort of sign in there that would show you he was still on your side, by your side. Your friends were against you, so was your family. Nathan was right. They were all terrible, they hated you and did not want you to be happy.

With all those people gone, you needed to know you still had Bruce. That despite everyone leaving, he was still yours.

He's not yours though, a little voice said inside your head. You tried to drown it. Who Bruce belongs to is none of your business. And it’s not like he even belongs to someone, he is his own person. Not some property to be handed around carelessly.

You’d never handle him carelessly though. You’d love him. And he’d love you, the way you’re meant to be loved. No. This was wrong. You were not supposed to have these thoughts. You had Nathan. And you loved him.

Did you, though? What had Nathan done for you as of late? Hit you and berate you and fight you and yell at you. Was that even how relationships went?

Sure. That's how passionate relationships went. And you knew Nathan was passionate about you. That’s why he got angry so often, because your love drove him nuts. Loving you drove him nuts. He adored you so much, you made him lose rationality. And wasn't that romantic?

Bruises aren't romantic. Taking care of someone is romantic. Holding them while they cry. Cheering them up with ice-cream and Monopoly, and surprising them at work. What a wonderful boyfriend Bruce would be.

No. Stop it. Those thoughts are wrong.

You looked at Bruce, standing in front of you, regarding you with so much care and worry. How you wished you could just melt in his arms forever. Sometimes you liked to relive how nice it felt to rest in his hold. How natural. You wished you could hug him again and never let go.

It was frightening, really, the way your feelings for Bruce were growing. He’d been just a friend at first, someone you could trust, someone you could spend time with and have fun. But now, he was so much more than that, and you feared the lines between friendship, and something more had begun to blur.

“I’d treat you so much better,” he suddenly blurted, drawing circles on your hand with his thumbs. “You deserve better than him. Please let me do better. Let me show you how you deserve to be loved.”

Tears found their ways to your eyes, and you shook your head, slowly.

You couldn't. No, you couldn't, possibly.

“I’m sorry…” you started, trying to choke back a sob.

“Please. You deserve to be treated with respect. With kindness, with love. Nathan isn't doing any of these things, he’s disrespecting you by laying his hands on you and hurting you all the time.” His face was mere inches away from yours now. Why was he so close? You could smell his cologne, see every speck of light in his eyes, listen to the breath he let out as his lips parted.

It wouldn't hurt to get closer. His lips must taste nice.

It would be wrong. So wrong.

You like him, don't you? And he treats you nice and likes you so much.

You love Nathan. You’d been with him for years now and loved him. He was good for you. He loved you, he provided for you. He paid most of the rent every month and 1bought most of the groceries. Your salary as a waitress could not compare to his, the one of a prestigious doctor. You couldn't leave him. It would ruin you.

Bruce has way more money than him. He would help you get back on your feet.

Quickly, you scrambled to your feet, getting away from him. This was wrong. Extremely wrong. You were dating Nathan. And that was the end of it.

“I'm sorry, Bruce,” you said, sounding more confident than you felt. “I'm in love with Nathan. Please trust me on this. I know what I'm doing.”

“I can’t just stand by and watch as he hurts you.” Bruce's voice held something to it you couldn't quite place. It felt like sorrow, like grief. You hated it. It made your stomach churn.

“He won’t hurt me anymore! He loves me!”

“Are you saying that because you believe it, or because you're trying to?”

The question took you by surprise.

“I…” you stuttered, shaking your hand. “I… I believe it.”

Did you?

“If you care about me Bruce, please let me be. My relationship is none of your concern.”

“What? Please – “

“Please mind your business, Bruce.” You mumbled, pulling your jacket tighter around you, and sighing. “Thank you for the sandwich. I’ll see you around.”

You spun on your heel and walked away, leaving behind a very broken-hearted Bruce Wayne.

You were constantly on Bruce’s mind. You plagued his thoughts 24/7 – your face, your eyes, your smile, your laugh. Again and again, from the moment he woke up, to the second he closed his eyes and fell asleep. You haunted his dreams too. Cried, lovely face covered in black and purple bruises, blood dripping down your mouth. These nightmares usually ended with a blood-curdling scream from you, and Bruce waking up in cold sweats.

It wasn't pleasant. Not at all.

And the worst part was, he had no idea what to do.

“If I report him, he might hurt her even further.”

“Yes, but that was when you had no evidence. You’ve told me she told you he hit her, things are different now, she confessed he was acting abusive towards her.” Alfred said, preparing a cup of tea. Bruce had foregone coffee for a while. Ever since you made it so difficult for him to sleep, Alfred had been trying different methods of getting his boss to sleep.

“Maybe I should have a little run-in with him. Or rather, the Batman should.” Bruce muttered, running a hand through his already messy hair.

“And what good would that make, Master Wayne?”

“I’d tell him to stay away from her. Shake him up a bit. Beat him up. Teach him a lesson.”

“I thought this wasn't about revenge,” the old butler settled a cup of tea in front of Bruce and sat next to him with a sigh. “Master Wayne, may I speak freely?”

“Of course.”

“Gotham has just begun to see Batman as a symbol of hope. You don't want to scare its people by beating up a doctor. Granted, he’s a despicable man who dares hit his partner, but a doctor, nonetheless. It would be foolish to destroy everything you’ve worked so hard to build so far.”

“Then what am I supposed to do, Alfred? How am I supposed to save her if I'm not Batman?”

“That is curious, because I don’t remember hearing the Miss say she liked spending time with the Batman. She did not cling to his arms and cried and told him her darkest secrets. She did not invite him for lunches and afternoon snacks and walks because she liked his company.” He mused. “She did all of that with Bruce Wayne. Perhaps you don't need a mask this time, Master Wayne. Perhaps, this time, being you is enough.”

Bruce thought the words over in his head. Alfred was right – something that happened abnormally often. You had never needed him as Batman. Just Bruce was enough.

“There’s also the fact that your family has left you a rather comfortable fortune, and more prestige that you could ever ask for. I’m sure Bruce Wayne would suffice.”

Bruce chuckled humourlessly, sipping from his cup of tea.

“She won’t open up to me, though. I mean, she will. She told me he was hurting her, that he’d pushed her. But she refused to let me help and said that I couldn't tell a soul. How am I supposed to get her to trust me?”

Alfred hummed.

“Perhaps you should invite her over again. Tell her you would like to talk. Or, you know, go to the police like a regular person and end the nightmare she is undoubtedly living.”

“I’ve done some research, Alfred,” Bruce sighed, “Dr. Nathan Smith is well liked in his community. Volunteers, donates to charity, the whole ordeal. If she tells the police, it was an accident and she fell, they’re likely to believe her. We need something more concrete.”

Alfred hummed once more. He could see where Bruce was coming from. On one hand, it was endearing. He’d never cared so much about someone and was clearly smitten by you. On the other, he was afraid the man would make a move far too late.

“And your plan, Master Wayne, is?”

Bruce dropped his head on the kitchen table. The white marble felt cold against his skin, and he relished in the comfort it provided.

“I don’t know, Alfred. I don’t know.”

“I thought I told you to stop hanging out with her?”

Bruce would recognise that voice anywhere.

As soon as it reached his ears, his fists clenched involuntarily. It seemed to him it was second nature to be angry around that piece of shit.

“Nate, she’s my oldest friend… I miss her terribly; it’s been ages since we've hung out.”

You were walking a few steps ahead of him, arm linked with Nathan’s. Well, rather, Nathan was gripping your arm, and you were simply being pulled along. Harshly.

“Ah, I see. So you’d rather hang out with her than me.” Nathan scoffed and shook his head, and you turned to face him. Bruce could see the heartbreak in your eyes.

“No! That’s not true!”

“She hates me. She doesn’t think we’re good together and wants to break us apart. And you want to hang out with her. Just tell me you want to break up and leave me the fuck alone!”

Nathan shoved you away from him, before shaking his head and walking faster down the road. Your teared up and ran after him. “Nate!” you yelled. “Nate! Please!” Once you reached him, you held onto his hands tightly, trying to get him to stop. He did not. “Please, Nate, I’m sorry! I won’t bring her up again, I promise!”

Nathan kept walking, not even sparing you a glance.

“I promise Nate, I’m so sorry! I’m sorry, please, forgive me!”

No one seemed to give two damns about the two of you. After all, people were selfish and did not care enough about the world around them. Only Bruce’s gaze was on you.

Nathan finally stopped, and sighed, looking at the floor.

“If you want to be her friend, and don’t love me anymore, I get it. That’s okay. You can move out, get your stuff – “

“No! No, I don’t want to be her friend, Nate, I don’t,” you pleaded, holding both his hands and shaking your head vigorously. Bruce felt like a creep, staring at you like that, staring into your private life like that, but what else could he do? “I’m sorry. I won’t bring it up again. I promise. I love you. Okay?” You placed yourself on the tip of your toes to reach his face and kissed his lips gently. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, please, I love you, please forgive me…”

Bruce swore he could see the glint of victory in Nathan’s eyes, and it made his insides churn.

“You promise?”

“I do! I promise! I love you so much, Nate, I won’t talk about her ever again. I love you and only you. You’re the love of my life!” You reached up to kiss him again, and Nathan responded, albeit unexcitedly. It was enough for you though, and you linked your hand with his. “I love you, Nate. So much. You’re the only person I need.”

The blonde man hummed, and you pulled him along. You tried your best to keep him close to you, but he wasn’t responding. That’s when Bruce decided he needed to intervene.

It was only when Bruce said your name a second time, louder, that you turned around, eyes widening with surprise.

“Bruce!” He could tell you weren’t expecting to see him here. He could also tell you were scared. Not of him, of course, but of the man at your side, by the way your whole body tensed, and your eyes drifted from him to Bruce.

“Ah. Bruce.” Nathan spit, looking at him with a fake expression of politeness. Bruce could tell his smile wasn’t real and noticed how his hold tightened on you. “What a coincidence. Have you perhaps been following us?” He laughed dryly. It was a poor attempt at a joke, and an even poorer attempt of figuring out if you’d listened to his whole conversation with you.

“Ah, no. I was just on my way home.”

“What were you up to?” you asked, voice relaxed as it often was when you were around him.

“Well, I'm celebrating the establishment of a new children's school in my family's name. It's a very important cause, and I’m throwing a party later this week. Alfred and I were shopping together.” Bruce replied.

“You? Shopping?” There was a happy tilt to your voice. Bruce only wished you would always sound like that.

“Well, I wasn’t alone. Baby steps.” He chuckled.

“And who is this Alfred?” Nathan interjected. “Some servant of yours?”

Bruce frowned. He did not like the way your boyfriend referred to the man who was the closest thing he had to a family. Still, he wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of anger.

“Alfred is my butler. He has been with my family for many years, and I consider him part of it. He is not a servant, and it shocks me that someone surely so well-read as you would refer to someone with such a degrading term.” Bruce raised his eyebrow, and he could swear he saw Nathan shrink a bit. It made you smile. It made Bruce feel good.

“My apologies, Bruce.” Nathan responded, offering a tight-lipped smile. He did not like losing, and that’s all he felt himself doing when he was around Bruce Wayne. Losing his temper, losing his control, losing his upper hand. It was something he detested greatly. He needed to get away from there. And quick.

“Honey, we need to go. Don’t want to steal too much of Bruce’s time, do we?”

“It’s not a problem, really,” Bruce retorted, ignoring your boyfriend, and turning to you instead. That’s when he noticed what you were wearing. Another jacket – a big one, oversized, a turtleneck and a pair of jeans. Gone were your shorts and flowy tops, you were now covered from head to toe. Why? To conceal what, exactly? And now that he got a good look at your face, was the hell was going on with your lip? It seemed split. “There’s nothing else in my list. Say, do you have any plans for next Friday? I would love if you two stopped by. It’s for a good cause, and perhaps you’ll have fun?”

He had to get you there. He had to get you alone with him, safe, away from Nathan.

“A party? At Wayne Manor?” Nathan asked.

“Yes. Will you be there?”

You looked up at your boyfriend, hope in your eyes.

Nathan noticed your excitement and blew air through his nose – the closest you’d get to a chuckle.

“Of course. We would love to go.”

“Really?” You beamed. That was not the answer you were expecting from him. Nathan hated Bruce – you knew this. Did this mean he was trying? Trying to befriend your friends? For your sake?

“Of course.” Nathan bent down to kiss your forehead, earning a genuine smile from you. “If you’d like to.”

“I would!”

It was small, the notion of a happy relationship, the notion that you were happy. But Bruce saw right through it. None of it was real. He was just playing a part.

“We should get going. It was nice seeing you, Bruce.”

“Oh – okay!” you yelped when Nathan turned you around and pulled you along with him. “It was nice seeing you, Bruce! I’ll see you Friday!”

And just like that, you were gone.

But Bruce wasn’t one to give up. Something felt off. Something smelled fishy. Nathan had been too kind, too nice, too allowing. Was it all a façade? He knew Nathan would never allow you to go to a party, especially one hosted by him. Something was definitely up. His feet moved, and before he could realise it, he was following the two figures in front of him to a dark alley. He heard voices and walked deeper.

That’s how he found you, pressed up against the wall, Nathan’s hand cruelly pressed against the hollow of your throat.

“Why the fuck are you still talking to him?” Nathan grumbled, tightening the hold he had on your throat. His knuckles turned white. “Huh!? You say you love me and then go around and fuck that rich motherfucker? Is that it, yeah?”

“N-No!” you sobbed, struggling to breath. Tears streamed down your face, hands clutching his. “Nate, please. You’re hurting me.” Your words were interrupted by coughs, and just before your vision could go completely black, you saw Nathan get dragged around and thrown on the floor. As soon as your vision (and your air) returned, you saw Bruce do to Nathan what he’d done to you.

“How dare you lay your disgusting hands on her,” he bellowed, and you somehow recognised that voice. It felt familiar. Bruce turned to you, and shook his head, arm still against Nathan’s neck. “Are you okay?” You nodded silently, wiping your tears, and taking a few steps back.

Bruce was surprised no one else had interrupted the two of you, but then again, this was Gotham. It didn’t matter if Batman was ridding crime for good, people would still look the other way, far too accustomed to violence to even bother.

“Are you seriously going to let him do this?” Nathan scowled, fighting against Bruce’s iron grip – it was no use. Somehow, this rich dumb playboy was stronger than he looked.

“I… I…” You looked in between the two men, still wiping your tears away. Part of you wanted Bruce to teach him a lesson. The other wanted him to let go of your boyfriend.

“Fuck – do something! Are you going to let this brute hurt me like this!?”

“Keep your filthy mouth shut,” Bruce whispered, before turning to face you completely. “What do you want me to do?”

This surprised you. You had a choice? You could decide?

“If you want to, I’ll beat him to a pulp myself. We’ll take him to the police. I’ll protect you. I promise I will. I can take care of you. You will never have to look him in the eye again.” Bruce’s eyes were filled with longing, and you found yourself walking towards him.

Wouldn’t that be nice? Nathan could go to jail. He’d leave you alone forever. No more fighting, no more hitting you, no more hurting you. You’d be free.

“Tell him to let go!” Now, Nathan’s face was turning a nasty shade of purple, and his lovely blue eyes were wide with fear. “Tell him! Are you going to let him do this to me? I love you!”

Bruce said your name softly. “Don’t listen to him. He’s done nothing but lie to you over and over again. You can end this nightmare right now.”

“Please! I’ll be better! I promise” Nathan coughed, the lack of air getting to him. “I was just jealous! You know me, I – I get like this! I thought you were going to leave me for him! I can’t compete with Bruce Wayne.”

“Shut up.” Bruce shook his head. “All you’ve been doing is hurting her. Abusing her. Do you seriously think I’m letting you go unscathed?”

It was scary, to be honest, seeing Bruce like this. You’d never seen him this angry, and he somehow reminded you of Nathan. Granted, the anger wasn’t directed towards you, but it still made you feel uneasy and unsafe, and all you wanted him was to go back to the sweet and kind Bruce who stole spoonfulls of your ice-cream and cheated at Monopoly when you weren’t looking.

“Bruce?” you whispered, frozen in place.

“Yeah?”

“Let go.”

“What?”

“Please let go.”

He looked at you and noticed the fear in your eyes. Something inside him broke and he wanted to punish himself for making you feel like that. Were you afraid of him? His hold on Nathan’s neck loosened, and the latter took this as an opportunity to get away and walk towards you. Nathan embraced you tightly, burrowing his face in your hair and crying loudly.

“I’m so sorry… I hate myself for the way I’ve been treating you… You deserve so much better than me, and I don’t deserve your forgiveness… I’m just a mess who seems to ruin everything… Please forgive me for being so possessive, I just – I just never feel like I’m worthy of you.” Nathan’s lies spilled from his lips, and the very same lips found their way to yours, kissing you softly as he held your face in his hands.

You seemed unresponsive, though, eyes fixed on Bruce. Was this how he always behaved? Had you simply not seen it before? Would he act this way towards you?

“I’m sorry…” his voice somehow got through to you. “I just… I couldn’t just stand by and watch as he hurt you…”

It was true, you gathered. He’d said it before. He’d always put himself between you and Nathan whenever you two fought. He’d never allowed Nathan to mistreat you in front of him, always protecting you – or trying to – no matter what.

Still, it had been horrifying to see those eyes who regarded you with such kindness, look at someone else with nothing but rage. To hear that lovely voice that always cheered you up sound so hateful. It wasn’t your Bruce. It simply wasn’t.

Your arms wrapped themselves around Nathan’s torso, almost as if mechanically. You had to do it. It’s what you did. Nathan yelled and fought and hurt. And then he’d apologize and take you back. It made you feel sick and nauseous and empty inside. But you knew no one else you love you like he did. No one would love you as passionately as Nathan did. And you didn’t want to be all alone.

“Let’s go home, okay, baby?” he asked, one hand caressing your cheek, the other rubbing circles on your hip affectionately. “We can cuddle and watch a movie. Anything you like. How does that sound?”

“Don’t,” Bruce pleaded, eyebrows furrowing. Were you seriously still going home with him? After all that had happened?

You did not break eye contact. You knew you shouldn’t go back home with Nate. At least a part of you did. A part of you knew this was wrong. Knew that you deserved better, knew that Nate was abusive and did not deserve you. But that part had long been defeated, and all that was left were small voices in your head that yelled “No one else is going to love you like this” repeatedly.

And you always let them win.

“Let’s go,” you mumbled.

Nathan wrapped his arm around your waist, kissed your forehead, and Bruce watched as you two left the alley.

You did not text him anymore.

And on Friday, none of you appeared at the Manor for the party.

It was close to 2 in the morning when Bruce was stirred awake by the sounds of knocking on his front door.

He’d fallen asleep on the couch, exhausted from exploring a few new gadgets and functions Lucius had implemented on his suit. Patrol had been rough on him, the new holographic projection system taking a while to get used to, but well worth it in the end. It would spare him a handful of bruises and stress.

Alfred had retired for the night long ago, so it was just Bruce, a copy of a book you’d mentioned in passing once and he decided to read, and a fire cackling in the fireplace.

He got up, groggily rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and made his way towards the door. Far too tired to be careful (really, who the hell would be knocking at his door at 2 in the morning? And it’s not like he could blink the sleep away in a matter of seconds. He had enough training for that) Bruce opened the door, coming face to face with a hunched figure.

“This better be good for you to be knocking on my god damned door at 2 in the morning –“

That’s when the figure in front of him shifted. It was no longer a mere figure. It was you.

You were hunched over, looking down, head covering your whole face, and Bruce could make out faint sobbing. He called your name once, twice, three times, softly. All you could do was shake your head. hands tightly clutched in front of you.

“Come on, let’s go inside.”

Bruce stepped aside so you could walk in. He would not touch you without your permission, without not knowing what had happened. You stepped inside, shaking all over. The clothes on your body were comprised of a flimsy pyjama set, a long-sleeved shirt, and a pair of pants. Your feet were bare save for the fluffy bunny slippers on them. You looked cold – had you left in a hurry?

“Hey, can we sit on the couch?” Bruce asked, fluffing up some pillows. You nodded and followed him, sitting down, head still hung low. Would you even look at him?

“Do you want something to drink?” He kneeled next to you but did not try to look into your eyes. He wanted to be on the same level as you, make you feel safe, but also give you the space and freedom to move away from him should you want that. He’d never want to smother you. You nodded your head softly, and Bruce was quick to move to the kitchen. He knew your favourite by heart, and within a few minutes, had it prepared and on top of the coffee table in front of you. “There it is,” he mumbled, sitting back again. He'd wait for you to take the first step.

And when you did, all the air left his lungs.

You looked up, hair clinging to your sweaty forehead, silent tears streaming down your face. Most of the lights were off, the fire being the only thing illuminating your features. Your delicate lips, your nose, your beautiful eyes, and the black and purple bruise surrounding one of them. The look Bruce gave you, whatever it was, just made you sob uncontrollably once again. He didn’t know if whether to touch you, come closer or back off, but you answered that question yourself when you wrapped your arms around him, sobbing loudly.

“I’m sorry…” you sobbed, holding onto him tightly. Bruce reciprocated the hug, spreading his legs so you could move comfortably in between them. He adjusted you in his lap and kissed your forehead, just holding you tightly.

“No, none of that,” he shushed you, rocking both your bodies back and forth. “You don’t have to apologize. Never.”

“It wasn’t my fault… it wasn’t Bruce, you have to believe me…”

“I do. I believe you. It’s not your fault.”

He wanted to know what the hell that jerk had done to you. But he knew he couldn’t – you might close yourself off even more and refuse to talk if he pressed further.

So, he made sure you were comfortable. Bruce picked you up and moved to the couch, covering both of your bodies with a blanket, and pulling you closer. You took the hint immediately, snuggling up as close as possible to him, face pressed against his neck. You were hiding from him, but it felt nice to be in his arms.

The two of you stayed like that for a while. Bruce turned on the TV and allowed you to pick a channel (“Mhm” for yes and “Hm-hm” for no) until you were watching some silly rom-com that got you chuckling occasionally. Bruce was stroking your arms gently, bending down to press kisses against your forehead whenever he felt you might need them. He wasn’t paying any attention to the movie in front of him, instead coming up with a plan to throw that idiot in jail.

After you’d finished your drink, you gathered the courage to shift in his lap and completely face him. The bruise covering your eye was on full display, and Bruce could now make out the dried blood on your lip.

“He… he hurt me, Bruce…” you mumbled, reaching for his hand. Bruce squeezed yours tightly, a silent reminder that he was there and listening, and that you weren’t alone. “I’m so scared… He pushed me and kept hitting me, and I was begging him to stop but he wouldn’t… I didn’t know what else to do, so I just waited for him to fall asleep and ran… I had to – I had to wait. He wanted to sleep next to me. He kept apologizing and promising he’d be better, so I told him it was okay, and I went to bed with him…” Bruce wiped away your tears, nodding along. Outside, he was the picture of compassion and sympathy. Inside, a fire was burning, and he had to control every bone in his body not to get into his car and drive to your (hopefully ex by now) boyfriend’s house.

“You’re so brave,” he muttered, running his hand through your hair to soothe you. “I can’t believe how hard that must’ve been. But you’re so brave, and I’m so proud of you.”

“I thought he could change,” you started to sob, shaking your head. “He – he said he would. He said that he loved me a lot and he’d only hit me because he was jealous and afraid I would leave him. All because I told him I regretted not going to your party that Friday… I’m so sorry, Bruce.”

“No apologies needed. You’re not the one to blame here, okay? It’s him, and him alone.” His hands reached up to wipe your tears, and you flinched, the pressure of his fingers on your bruise sending painful memories through your head. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Let’s take care of this, shall we?”

And he did.

Bruce took you to the master bathroom and sat you on top of the counter while he fetched his first-aid kit and a few ointments and creams. Your hands never left him as he worked – on his shirt, on his shoulders, on his hands. He cleaned the bruise with some water and pressed an ice pack against it to reduce the swelling. He told you a few anecdotes that had happened at Wayne Enterprises – angry costumers who tried to scam him, spilled coffees, and other amusing situations – to keep you grounded. His voice was like a lifeline to you.

After the swelling was taken care of, he softly applied ointment around your eye, being careful as to not put too much pressure on the pads of his fingers. He smeared some of it on the tip of your nose, earning a smile from you, before moving on to your lip and taking care of it too. Once all was done, he took a step back.

“Don’t look at me like that…” you mumbled, looking away.

“How?”

“Like that. Like I’m pitiable.”

“Hm.” Bruce tilted his head, pretending to think your statement over, “No. Not pitiable – that’s not who I’m looking at.”

You met his gaze again.

“I’m looking at the bravest woman I have probably ever known.” He crouched in front of you to stay at your eye level. Your hands did not leave his. “I’m looking at a remarkable woman, one with a big heart and a courageous spirit. You’ve endured all of this, and you’re still standing.”

“I’m a coward, Bruce,” you shook your head. “I let him to this to me. I let him break me. He’s right – who would ever love me after him? Who will ever love me like him? Maybe this was a mistake – I shouldn’t have left me. He’s the only one who will love me as I am.”

Bruce was quick to refute you.

“He’s wrong. I hope you know just how wrong he is. Nathan has spent all this time hurting you, lying to you.”

“He hasn’t – I’m broken, I’m damaged goods – who will ever want me?”

“You’re not damaged goods. You hear me? You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. You’re so kind and brave. What you endured is beyond me, and I know I will never understand it, but please believe me when I say that you’re not broken. You’re not damaged. And Nathan is not right. He’s lied to you.”

You looked at him and searched his eyes for any sign of falsehood, of deceit. All you found was kindness. And a warmer emotion you couldn’t pinpoint yet but wanted to figure out.

“You light up even the darkest of days,” Bruce mumbled, moving closer to you. His hand moved to cup your face and you instinctively pressed against it. You’d never felt safer than whenever you were in Bruce’s arms. “And I will do everything in my power to protect you. To keep you safe. The truth is…” He looked at the floor for a few seconds, before meeting your eyes again. “I love you.” You sucked in a breath. “I have, for a while. And I know that’s not what you want to hear right now, nor what you need to hear. And I’m not saying this to force you to be with me, especially after I took care of you. What I’m trying to say is, I don’t expect compensation. I don’t. I’m just saying this because – because I want you to know Nathan is wrong. You’re not damaged goods. And I love you. So much. Ever since I met you, my life has been happier, brighter. For years I’ve had a hole inside of me. Something empty, something that would eat me up from the inside. But then you came along. And you filled that void. And Nathan is so, so wrong, because how could someone not love you? How could someone not love you? How could he try and make you believe you’re not worthy of love, when that’s all you deserve?”

Tears were now streaming down both of your faces. Bruce had never been this vulnerable before, and to his surprise, it didn’t hurt nor scare him. It felt right, to trust you like this, to open up.

“You don’t need to say it back. Please don’t feel forced to say it back. I just wanted you to know that you’re worthy of love, and that I’ll be here to help you. Always. Even if all you feel towards me is friendship. I’ll protect you forever, I promise. He will never touch you again. No one will.”

When you did not reply, Bruce’s stomach fell. Had he screwed up? Had this been a terrible occasion to let you know of his feelings? It wasn’t ideal, no, but he had to tell you. Fuck. He had screwed up, didn’t he? And now he would lose you forever –

You interrupted his thoughts, hands on his jaw, pulling him closer. You blinked slowly – once, twice.

“I love you too,” you whispered, afraid that should you say it any louder, the fantasy might break. “I think I have for a while too. But I was so scared, Bruce… I have nothing to offer – I work a shitty job, and Nathan was paying for everything. My bills, my groceries, my clothes. I was so afraid of leaving. And then whenever I was with you, all I felt… Was happiness.” You chuckled through the tears. “You made me feel so happy, Bruce. And so safe. I always feel safe with you. But I was so scared… I’m so sorry…”

“No – shh. You don’t have to say you’re sorry,” Bruce shook his head, turning to place a kiss on your palm. “You’re so brave. Have I said this already? You’re so brave. I’m so sorry for everything you had to endure. I’m so sorry I didn’t do anything earlier. Shit, I’m an idiot. I should’ve reported him to the police as soon as I realised he was hurting you, but I was too scared he’d turn their heads and you’d get the short end of the stick.”

You smiled, something warm blooming in your chest. Bruce really did care for you, didn’t he?

“My plan was to report him, but I didn’t know if you’d lie to the police in order to cover everything up. I was afraid you would, and he would hurt you further. I’m sorry.”

You repeated his words back to him.

“You don’t have to be sorry. You always stood up for me whenever Nathan was around. You never let him talk to me the way he did whenever you were there. I just wish I hadn’t been so blind… I wish I’d trusted you the first time you told me he was no good… It’s just – we’d been together for so long, and I was so afraid to leave him. Nathan was all I knew. I didn’t want to be alone. I didn’t want to be unloved.”

“You’re not.” Bruce shook his head again. “Not unloved. I love you. You’re worthy of love, and happiness, and kindness, and good things.”

You nodded at him, a single tear running down your cheek. This one, however, was a tear of happiness. Your eyes flickered to his lips, and Bruce whispered.

“Can I kiss you?”

You chuckled.

Bruce raised an eyebrow.

“Is this funny?” he asked with a smile.

“You’re always asking for my permission. If you can touch me, if you can hold me.”

“I would never do anything you were uncomfortable with. Anything you didn’t want.”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Please kiss me,” you mumbled, and no other words were needed, as Bruce closed the space between the two of you and kissed you on the lips.

It was the softest kiss you’d ever had in your entire life. There was no roughness, no edge, no anger, or rage – all the things Nathan kissed you with. Bruce, however, kissed you with love. His lips moved in tandem with yours, brushing and caressing and telling a story of tenderness and warmth. It felt nice. It felt perfect. It felt like you had been made to kiss him. You pulled him up by his shirt, and he did so, placing his hands on either side of the marble to trap you. Your legs spread instinctively to accommodate him, and his hands brushed against your cheeks and hair, fingers shyly exploring, afraid to break the moment he’d been waiting for for so long. It was only a shame it had to be in these circumstances.

When breathing became more important than kissing, you pulled away and Bruce pulled you against his chest. You breathed him in, the smell of cologne and bodywash and something so inherently Bruce calming you down almost instantly.

“Please don’t leave me,” You whispered, gripping his shirt as if it was the only thing keeping you alive right now. And maybe it was. You needed him.

“I wouldn’t even dream of it,” he whispered back, kissing your forehead. “And I’ll fix this. We will fix this.”

“What if he comes after me? He’s a very respected doctor, Bruce, I – I don’t want him to hurt you or anything.”

This caused Bruce to chuckle and pull you back to look at your face. Even with a terrible bruise covering your features, you were the most beautiful women he’d ever laid eyes on. Your courage and kindness only added to that charm. What a lucky guy he was.

“I don’t usually brag about my status, but I happen to be Bruce Wayne. I’ll take care of him. I promise. You won’t have to worry about anything.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. He won’t be able to hurt you anymore.”

You smiled. Bruce loved your smile.

“Do you want to get some sleep?” he asked, caressing the side of your cheek that wasn’t bruised. “I can sleep in one of the guest rooms. My bed is quite comfortable, you can stay there. Unless you want to stay somewhere else? I won’t force you to stay here.”

You shook your head.

“Here is fine. Although…”

“Yes? I’ll do anything.”

A blush crept up on your features.

“I… I don’t want to be alone tonight. I can’t.”

Bruce nodded.

“Do you want me to stay with you?”

“Please.”

Bruce gave you a soft look, a quiet question, asking for your permission. You answered it by lifting your arms and allowing him to pick you up and carry you to his bedroom. He laid you down on his bed, and you sighed at how comfortable it was. He smiled. You looked content as you adjusted, getting under the covers.

“Are you going to join me or just stare at me like that?”

“I’m just happy you’re here. Safe, with me,” he said. “I’m sorry the circumstances were… not the best.”

“I’m here now, though, aren’t I? And so are you.”

“I am. I’m not going anywhere.”

Bruce moved and laid down next to you, pulling the covers over himself. “Can I?” he asked. You nodded, and he wrapped an arm around you, bringing you close to his chest. Your bodies fit perfectly together, like two pieces of a puzzle that had come together at last. You entwined your legs with his and rested your head on his chest while his arms snaked around you, protecting you even in your sleep. The beat of his heart soothed you and lulled you to slumber in an instant.

Before you lost conscience, you felt Bruce’s lips move against your head, and made out a soft “I love you”.

It was the best you’d ever slept.

It was hard adjusting to live after that, but Bruce was there for you every step of the way.

You finally filed a report against Nathan. It was tough, and you cried and doubted yourself when you gave your statement, but with Bruce by your side, you felt like you could do it. He reminded you of how brave you really were, and how much you could accomplish – with him or without him. But you liked his company anyway.

Thanks to Bruce’s resources, an investigation was conducted. You’d kept records of nearly every time the two of you fought in your diary, and even photographed every bruise he’d given you. He did not know of this, of course. You did it whenever he was asleep, a small voice in your head telling you it’d be useful to bring him down.

Apparently that little voice had been right, and your pictures were essential for the investigation.

Your friends testified in your favour, and you had cried when they’d hugged you after, congratulating you on your bravery, and lamenting what you’d gone through. You’d missed them so much.

All seemed like it was going in the right direction.

Your old apartment had been cleared, and although you’d gotten a place of your own (Bruce told you he did not want you to feel like you had to move in with him simply because he was helping you out and you two were in the beginning of a relationship), you found yourself spending more time at Bruce’s manor than your own house, and you quickly sold it in order to move in with him.

Everything was going perfectly.

You felt happy – more than ever – going about your daily job, meeting with friends for coffee and lunch and walks on the park without being berated or yelled at. Bruce supported you on every endeavour you went on, encouraging you to spend time with your friends and go out with them, instead of keeping you home all to himself like Nathan did.

In fact, Bruce was the perfect boyfriend. He’d bring you breakfast in bed sometimes, offer you rides to your job, bring you flowers when he could tell you’d had a hard day, and even when he had to cancel date nights or other plans you two had made because of some last minute emergency at Wayne Enterprises, he made it up to you later, with lots of love and reassurance, perhaps a bouquet of flowers and a ticket to whatever event you’d been interested in.

Bruce reminded you of what love felt like. True love. He never raised his voice at you, opting to voice out his concerns in a calming manner. He never made you feel like you weren’t worthy of him – quite the contrary. Every single day, he thanked you for choosing him, letting you know just how lucky he was to have you in his life.

Alfred liked you too – very much. He adopted you as his family rather quickly, teaching you how to make your favourite drinks (even better than you used to do them), and spending time with you whenever Bruce wasn’t home, and you felt particularly lonely. He liked having you around. In his opinion, “Master Wayne was in need of a woman’s touch in his house and his life”. You couldn’t agree more and loved him immensely.

There was only one time you crossed paths with Nathan after you’d left him that night.

The Gotham Police had gathered enough information and evidence to build a case against him, and you’d been called to testify. You weren’t sure you wanted to do it – you were still scared of whatever he could do to you.

That day, Bruce sat you down on his lap, kissed your forehead and promised Nathan wouldn’t even be able to touch you, and that he and your friends would be there.

It was all the reassurance you needed, and although you choked back a sob once or twice once your gaze met his, your testimony was clear and strong, and it was enough for the trial to be wrapped up in around two days (and perhaps Bruce had pulled a few strings to get it over it so quickly, but you didn’t need to know that, now did you?)

As he was being handcuffed, Nathan turned to you, face twisted in agony.

“Babe – “ he yelled, doing his best to free himself from the police officers’ grips. “I’m so sorry – tell them this is just a misunderstanding! Tell them! I love you so much, fuck, don’t let them do this to me!”

When it was obvious you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of an answer, he furrowed his eyebrows.

“You slut! You stupid bitch! I bet you’re fucking him, aren’t you? You’re fucking the rich bastard, aren’t you? I knew it! You’re a slut – you’re disgusting! No one will ever love you as I loved you, you’re a slut now, and you’ll be a slut fore – “

Bruce’s fist collided with Nathan’s face, promptly shutting him the fuck up. He adjusted his cuffs and his blazer and offered you a doe-eyed look.

“I didn’t do anything. I don’t know what you’re talking about. Officers, I’ll be sure to guarantee you all a very nice Christmas bonus if you keep this little incident in between us.”

The excited nods from the officers around him were enough of an answer for him to walk away unscathed. That, and your giggles.

“Couldn’t stand hearing him go on and on about you like that,” he’d muttered to you lately as you cuddled up together on the couch and watched a movie.

That was the last you saw and heard of Nathan. You’d heard Bruce tell Alfred that he was going to be locked up for eternity one day, and while it was suspicious (surely it wouldn’t warrant him a life sentence, would it?), the thought of Bruce using his influence to put your abusive ex-boyfriend behind bars forever made you smile.

Right now, you were sitting on top of a plaid picnic blanket in the gardens of Wayne Manor. On your right hand was a book, on your left hand the chocolate brown curls of your boyfriend, whose head was resting on top of your lap.

You had never felt so at peace with yourself.

Your physical scars had faded, bruises had healed, leaving your soft skin as it once was, but you were sure the emotional ones would remain. Luckily, you had the best boyfriend in the world to aid you in every step of the way.

His voice pulled you from your thoughts.

“You’re beautiful,” he mumbled, eyes closed. This was one of his favourite things to do – lay on your lap after a hard week and relax under the sun. It was one of your favourites as well. You got to spend time with the person you loved the most and remind yourself that even though your life was so dark once, it could get better. It was getting better.

“You’re not so bad yourself, handsome.”

“Not so bad?”

“Fine. You’re the most handsome man I have ever seen in my entire life.”

“Hmm. That’s a lot of responsibility.” He raised an eyebrow.

“I think you’ll manage.”

Bruce chuckled and lifted his head up ever so slightly. You rolled your eyes with a smile. How needy. Bending down, you met him halfway, kissing him tenderly. His tongue swept over your lower lip, and you sighed contentedly before he pulled away and closed his eyes.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Bruce. So much.”

Yes.

Everything was going to be better.

A/N: And that's it! Oh my god what a rollercoaster hahaha! I hope you guys enjoyed this! I understand all abusive relationships are different - a lot of this came from my own experience.

I also hope the ending, the little epilogue wasn't too rushed! I wanted it to be a nice conclusion, not dwelling too much on the past, but rather focusing on the hope of the future.

Alright, this is all! I think I'll take a break from Bruce fics for a while, hahaha. Once again, I really do hope you all enjoyed this.

Have a wonderful day ahead! <3

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x you #bale!bruce wayne #bale!batman x reader #bale!batman #bale!bruce wayne x reader #the dark knight #the dark knight trilogy #nolanverse #the dark knight fanfiction #the dark knight fanfic #bruce wayne fanfiction #bruce wayne x fem!reader

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athanasius-symposium-of-writings · 7 months

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i was wondering if i could request a combination of ❛ so good for me. look how much you came. ❜ and ❛ have a little trust in yourself, i know you can take it. ❜ w/ good endind astarion and including the topics of virginity loss? maybe taking place after the events of baldurs gate ^3^ thank you so so much your time and im looking forward to read more of your incredible writing!

<3 ngl i wrote this to 'To be loved' by aurora lol

Send asks using this prompt

Rated Explicit

Two rings. They are a matching pair bound by magic, warding magic shared between the rings. The magic of love, the lover's embrace.

Astarion gives you his left hand, you place the ring on his ring finger. The same action is repeated by you and his actions match yours.

It is a private wedding, or as close to one can get as close to, and takes place in the inn room for two. Those special ones for honeymoons.

Dark flames from purple-scented candles, the moonlight shines through the open window, and those ruby eyes shine with gentle warmth.

You found a pretty white outfit and Astarion wears one of those fancy black suits with a coattail.

With Selûne as the witness in this clear night with the moon up high and the stars dazzling in the sky, silence as there is peace, soon to be gone in the morning, but tonight you both will bask in each other as if the world is brand new.

The first of many nights to be lived.

You kiss him with a laugh, how could you not be happy!? "I like your last name. I'm taking it."

"My last name?" He half expected to take yours, "Sweet thing." He kisses your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, "You can have anything of me."

You stare at the wonder of this world, your world in your arms, "All that I am, let us share eternity with each other." No longer will he have to face the darkness alone, it will be with someone— With you. His sun, dawn breaking through the shadows.

Love. Gods, it is as if his heart is racing.

This is a wedding night, a night he wants you. Wants everything he can feel against his skin, every inch of your body to ache for him, and to experience sex because he wants it— And because he wants to share this first night of everything with you.

In this room, with only the moon as the light and witness, he guides you to bed.

"Are you sure? We can do other things." You show genuine concern.

"Yes," Taking a deep breath, "With you, I want this." Confidence and certainty, the ability to consent.

You read his face then your mind stirs as you feel his touch on your mind, just as you had opened your mind to express your feelings to him, Astarion lays bare his emotions and desires. The desire to love and be loved.

His magic is dark, yet soothing. Yours is warm, light, wild, and untamed.

"Astarion."

"If you will have me."

You smile then nod, "Thank you." Though he feels he should be thanking you for giving him something he thought he lost: freedom.

Everything that freedom entails returned to him, though you take no credit for his victory, he is grateful you were by his side.

His lips take yours, guiding you with slow easy movements for you to match him. "Good pup." Your cheeks burn as your hands reach up, fingers tracing the shell of his ears, "(Name)." His eyes flutter shut, his lips seek yours, hands on your hips.

"So good for me," Smiling above you as he gets to be first to see you like this, "Look how much you came." The spell to see through each other's eyes is an inspired one you created to be his mirror. To use the innocent spell to show you the wonders Astarion is doing is… You can't hide, he won't let you hide from his adoration.

Tonight, every night or day, for as long as time will allow: he will be loved and you will know his desires, bare and raw.

"Astarion, oh! Ah, Gods."

Wow! It is like dying! Astarion chuckles from your thoughts as you cum once more by his hand.

"I can't!" Panicking as you never felt so much at once.

"Have a little trust in yourself, I know you can take it. My little love, breathe in and out."

Love and lust, it is as if he is your missing half. Astarion groans at the way your mind races with so many emotions for him. Raw and messy, he never will doubt ever how much to truly love him. Boundless and limitless.

When he is finally inside of you, two bodies made one, he has to stop himself from cumming so soon from how tight you are. The spell doesn't help as you both feel the union not only from yourselves but each other too.

Your nails scratching his back, your legs locking close to you. His fangs bite into your neck, his grip fierce as he moves. Your hips moving with his, your body singing for him.

You can feel how happy he is, he can feel how amazed you are.

The evening seemed endless, and maybe Selûne stayed a little longer in the sky for some love birds.

#anon ask #baldur's gate 3 #reader insert #astarion #astarion x mc #astarion x vampire spawn!tav #astarion x you #astarion x reader

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randomfanner · 6 months

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Gale + Tara Headcanons

I love Gale so much. SFW Headcanons only, relationship and also just general life headcanons I have about the worlds saddest oxymoron.

Labeled TW: Gale got groomed. We are going to be discussing today Because even if he was an adult(which he probably wasn't) he still got groomed because Mystra had so much power over this man.

General TW: Gale has self hatred issues. I hate Mystra. We will be talking about Mystra in depth I promise. Also Gifted kid burn out and general tying all of your self worth to a talent.

So, body type head canon because Gale does not have abs. You cannot look me in the eyes and tell me Gale has abs. He is soft and a little squishy and very huggable.

Man is a cuddler. He always wants to cuddle. Whether it be you two be lounging on a sofa, each reading/doing your own tasks well you snuggle together, spooning in the morning, laying together after a night of passion, or whatever reason he can get to just hold you in his arms.

I think he is touch starved other than Tara. Which as great as Tara is it is not human touch. And gods don't... really physically touch. So I don't think he got very much physical affection from Mystra. So being touched, being held with your hands and feeling your flesh on his means so much to him.

He doesn't think he is good at it. But he still really likes to do it. If you ask him to cuddle with him, he will flip in his heart because it makes him the happiest man in the world to know you want to cuddle with him as much as he wants to cuddle with you.

Tara likes you. She likes you fast. She begins telling you all of Gale's stories from when he was younger, how sweet of a boy he was and how he would use his beginning magic to help people. If you give her attention she will purr so loud. Gale and Tara both really like chin scratches.

She begins calling you "Mrs/Mr/Mrx. Dekarios" pretty damn quickly. she has accepted you as his partner which she never did Mystra. it really throws Gale off when she does it. He admittedly thought Tara was so against Mystra because she was a lover period.

Tara also may begin to favor your lap. If this happens, Gale is... shocked and disappointed "You have stolen not only my heart, love, but my Treyssem as well." "Would you like to repeat that, Mr. Dekarios?"

And he wonders why she favors your lap.

She also favors you lap because she has to thank you for keeping her sweet boy alive for her. She may even allow you the honor to stroke her stomach a few times.

She also brings you gifts, magic items, trinkets, carcasses, whatever she can get her paws on and thinks you would like.

She takes you in fast and begins asking for grand babies. She wants grand babies and Gale's mother wants grand babies. The topic of course make your flustered each time and Gale denies the possibility of being a good father, but Tara is pretty insistent.

Morena also loves you as well and you best believe she is showing you pictures from Gale's childhood and telling you as much information as she can. Poor Gale just sits there and is extremely flustered well she recounts even his less flattering tales... but he does nothing to stop it.

He is really happy his mom and Tara both like you. It makes him the happiest man in the world.

Gale likes to cook for you. A lot. He cooks the fanciest, gourmet food and he is extremely good at it. He will set up fancy candle lit dinners with music in the background. This is basically every night but he tries to make sure it never truly loses its luster. (It never does).

He also makes you breakfast in bed. He has to crawl away from you in the morning to feed Tara and so he just makes you breakfast and comes back freshly deserved.

If you cook together man is smiling so much his jaw hurts. I cannot describe to you the joy he feels having you by his side, helping him cook.

Expect so much love poetry all of the time. Even when you are questing or not he will just slip a small piece of paper into your hand with all of his affections written down as poems.

He also quotes poetry verses that make him think of you, to you, at random times. He is hoping to make you smile with all of them.

Gale is so sweet to you all of the time. He treats you like you are divine, and to him you are. Complete gentleman all of the time. He does not carry anything. You could be a fighter with a 20 in strength with thighs and arms that could crush his fucking head like a grape, He will still insist on trying to carry anything heavy for you. He holds doors, pulls out chairs, makes sure your wine is refilled. He is so doting.

Man feels guilty that he is doing so little to help you at times. He wants to do more for you then he does. He tries to make sure you are pampered at all times. Kisses, gifts, fancy shows, lovely nights together.

But he tries to do more. he always makes sure to protect you in battle. He will take attacks, using shield and mage armor to make sure he can take as many hits as needed to protect you. He will be your knight in magic armor, a dashing smile well he does so.

This often leads to the ES(Emergency Shadowheart) because Gale is an over-confident wizard but if you are safe he doesn't care. If you are meant to be a tank, you may need to have a chat with him about the fact he is the squishy wizard man and you can protect him.

But it is Gale.

If you get sick or injured or anything Gale is fretting over you. He is holding you and yelling for Shadowheart like you are going to die at this moment. Even if it is a small thing he is very dramatic and very scared of losing you.

When you get sick or are on your period he makes sure to give you medicine to help with illness and pains, magic hiding the taste, and so much good food.

Tara also rests on your lap and acts like a heating pad. Purring and trying to help you feel better.

So like, after the ending I think Gale and you take a break from everything and just, go and look around. And Gale takes a break from magic. He can still love the art, and he will go back to it but I just think he needs to take a step back because magic and his talent for magic has kind of defined Gale his entire life.

I think him taking a break and just... being a person rather than a wizard for a little a while. He can be both, he knows he can. But he will need time and a deep breathe. He will go back, he loves to do magic. It means the world to him. But absences makes the heart grow fonder. And I think working on other skills he can be proud of and knowing Magic is one of the many things he is good at rather then the ONLY thing he is good at will do him wonders.

So I am going be talking about Gale's trauma a lot in the lower half of this. First, Gale's confidence issues and how fucked up the orb is. There will be comfort with Tara and you. After that we are going to get into the problem. The problem will come up in this section, however not the fact Gale got Groomed. That will be another different section.

Warning out of the way:

I think his self confidence and self image is being held together by the type of "I am good at magic". He was a prodigy and I think Gale only saw worth in his magic and his skill on it. He loves to do it too but at the same time he HAS to be good at it, or it feels like. He respects people who are better.

He did fuck up with the orb, but I also think he wasn't fully aware of what he was getting himself. Yes he should have known not listening to Mystra was a bad idea, but she didn't explain exactly what he did wrong until Gale talks with her in the game. This is years later.

Gale really needed Tara after he went from Mystra's Chosen and the Lover of Mystra to a fool who flew too close to the sun and came crashing down in a brilliant display of horrible glory. Man ruined his life, lost everything, and had a problem that Mystra gave him no ideas how to fix.

Mystra DID NOT EXPLAIN ANYTHING TO GALE UNTIL THAT CUTSCENE IN GAME YOU GET AFTER MYSTRA TELLS GALE TO BLOW HIMSELF UP. Gale was kept alive due to Tara. Tara was the one who flew off and found out how to help Gale.

I also think the only thing Mystra valued with Gale's magic knowledge and abilities. She is a goddess, she doesn't really eat human food, Tara and Mystra didn't each other, she is a goddess and I doubt physical touch was common.

So I think Gale being rude to you about magic, especially if you are a different class who can do magic and he insulted you, is because the is grasping with issues of trying to remind himself he is a good mage. This does not excuse his behavior. But I think when he realizes what he did he is going to apologize whole heartedly

One day he is just thinking about how you first met and he just realizes 'I was awful!"

He is going to hold your hand to his cheek, and apologize for doing that. Because you make him realize that he is more than his magic. He is more then what he has been called talented for and tied everything too for so long.

He isn't a failure if he fails with his magic.

Don't get me wrong, Gale can get ahead of himself and is pushy. I want to flick him in the head as soon as he begins thinking trying to become a god is a good idea in the first place. It is a horrible idea as much as I hate Mystra, don't want Gale to become a god. He deserves to be a good man with his wine, his library, his treyssem, and, should fates permit, you.

So, we are going to start talking about Mystra being a P*dophile and just the worst emotional manipulator. When we get to talking about it I am not censoring the word.

This is the end, I am not putting anything else below this. You are free to move along your day, you will not miss out on any of the good stuff. I promise.

This is the only notable part of this: I want Withers to be the god of Magic. He would be a great god of magic, he proves with Arabella.

So, Gale was like, 17 to 23 I believe the range is. And even if Gale is in the later half of that, he still got fucking groomed by Mystra because Mystra had and still has so much power over Gale.

She is the goddess of his greatest asset. His magic. And as we just discussed, the goddess of the thing he ties all of his self worth to. Mystra was literally someone he worshipped. She IS the goddess of magic. Gale had no power in the relationship and never did.

Mystra knows this. She is smart enough to know what is doing is fucking horrible, and get it, she is a god, but she is also a straight up pedophile. We all know about the fact people LITERALLY HIDE THEIR CHILDREN FROM HER.

I do not doubt that being Mystra's chosen meant doing everything she asked. I don't think Mystra took no for an answer in any matters. I also think mistakes were punished with emotional manipulation. Not violence like we see with Shar or Vaalikith (She sorta counts) but gods did he make Gale feel worthless if he failed.

I think Gale feels guilty for a lot of things a lot he shouldn't feel guilt for. I think one of the biggest things Mystra would make Gale feel guilty for was talking to basically any one else if it was not a work relationship.

I would not doubt if Mystra cut Gale off from his mother and would have from Tara if Tara was anyone else. Mystra is noted as a jealous goddess if you are dating Gale. I do not doubt that jealousy was a pretty frequent thing.

Tara hates Mystra with every bone in his fluffy body and tried so hard to talk to Gale but Gale would not listen to her because, well- she is his boss, his teacher, his lover and also the person who controls the thing he ties his self worth too of course he is going to listen to everything Mystra said.

Also Mystra 100% cut Gale off from any source of help he could actually get. Again, Tara was the one to find out about the orb. And I think more than just shame, embarrassment and being a laughing stock from one of the greats, I think Mystra made sure no one was going to be talking to Gale.

I want DLC where we beat the fuck out of Mystra. I really want to kill her. I know I cannot but she is terrible and she deserves death. I know I am captain obvious right now but I cannot stress this enough.

I want Withers to be the god of Magic. He would be a great god of magic, he proves with Arabella.

#gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #baldurs gate gale #gale x tav #bg3 gale #gale fluff #Gale needs a hug #fuck mystra #I hate Mystra so much #Tara is my favorite momma cat #gale x reader #Gale is baby #Withers should be the god of magic #tw: mystra

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rogueddie · 1 year

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Steve loves the rain. He just doesn't like being in the rain. He loves how it sounds, something about it is so calming, and the smell of wet grass that always filters through his windows, from the woods behind his house? He'd bottle it if he could.

Sometimes he sits on the floor, the backdoor open, a blanket wrapped around him and just... listening.

So, when Eddie insisted that their first date shouldn't be some romantic dinner or some other stereotype, that it should be something that means something to Steve? The rain is the first thing he thinks of to share.

He makes a little picnic, watches the weather forecast so carefully, finds blankets and pillows and buys a battery powered 'candle'. He makes a little nest by his backdoor, soft and warm. He makes sure to get his thickest, softest blankets and even lays extra ones down just in case.

Eddie had been worried when Steve asked him over for their date, tries warning him that it is going to rain. Steve brushes him off, insists. He doesn't explain anything, knows it sounds stupid.

It starts raining seconds after Eddie arrives. It's the most perfect timing Steve could dream of, decides to take it as some sort of sign, and leads Eddie to the backdoor.

"Oh, Steve," Eddie sounds a little sad when he sees the little nest of pillows. "We can have a picnic another day, we don't need to rush this or-"

"No! No, uh, that's not... it's um..." Steve rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed. "The rain. It's just... you said you wanted to do something that means something to me. Uh, this is... this is the most, like, important thing there is."

Eddie blinks, looking between him and the blankets. "Ok... so, how do we do this?"

Steve still feels a little embarrassed, even as he leads by example and curls up in a blanket on the pillows. Eddie settles down next to him the same, just as the rain starts to pick up.

Eddie looks out, towards the woods, head tilted. "Hm... it does look pretty."

Steve follows his eyes. The sun is starting to peak out from behind the clouds, the mix of rain water and small streams of sunlight making the woods look more magical than the rain usually does.

"Yeah," Steve breathes. He glances at Eddie, flushing when he sees that Eddie is already staring at him with a soft smile. "It's just... comforting. The noise and... yeah. It's nice."

"It is," Eddie shifts so he can press their sides together. "Thanks for sharing this with me."

It doesn't go the way Steve expected their first date to go.

With how loud and playful Eddie is, even in their flirting and how they got together, he expected the same during a date. He's almost certain that it would be, if they went to a restaurant.

But, sat listening to the rain, Eddie is... soft. Loving. He keeps giving Steve adoring looks and slipping in comments about how much he appreciates Steve sharing this thing with him. He doesn't shy away from anything cheesy or silly, saying them so lovingly and looking at Steve like he hung the moon.

As the night draws to an end and they have to close the door, Steve has to ask; "so, you like the rain too?"

Eddie laughs, like the question is ridiculous. "God no, I hate the rain. The worst thing nature has ever invented."

"Oh," Steve frowns, confused. "You seemed to enjoy this though?"

"I enjoy you." Eddie shrugs.

Steve stares at him for a moment, heart speeding up to an almost aching degree. All he can manage is a quiet, "oh".

Eddie smiles, soft with his eyes crinkling, kisses his cheek. "Let me know when you want to do this again. It's lovely seeing you so content."

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie fic #ficlet #fluffifc

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lunar-bat · 7 months

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Witchcraft 101: Wicca & The Wheel of The Year

Paganism - An umbrella term for many nature-based and polytheistic spiritual traditions. Note that not all pagans practice witchcraft. Wicca - A pagan, nature-based religious movement. Wicca blends aspects of witchcraft, nature veneration, and ceremonial magic. It places a strong emphasis on honoring nature and follows a duotheistic belief system often known as the Triple Goddess and Horned God. Wheel of The Year The wheel reflects the cyclical nature of life, death, and rebirth in the natural world and is central to the rituals, spells, and celebrations of many pagan and witchcraft traditions. The Wheel of the Year is divided into eight significant points, which correspond to the Sabbats or festivals:

Samhain (October 31st): Also known as All Hollow's Eve, marks the beginning of the Wheel of the Year and is associated with the end of the harvest season and the onset of winter. Samhain is a time for honoring ancestors, reflecting on mortality, and recognizing the thinning of the veil between the physical and spirit worlds. Samhain is a time to acknowledge the cyclical nature of life and death and to connect with the spiritual realm. Yule (Winter Solstice, typically around December 21st): Marks the rebirth of the sun, with a focus on light, hope, and renewal during the darkest time of the year. Yule customs include lighting candles or a Yule log, feasting, gift-giving, and spending time with loved ones. It's a significant part of the Wheel of the Year, emphasizing the cyclical nature of life and the changing seasons. Imbolc (February 1st): Marks the early signs of spring and the gradual return of light and warmth. Imbolc is associated with the Celtic goddess Brigid and is a time for purification, cleaning, and preparing for the coming season's growth. It's often celebrated with rituals, candle lighting, and dedication to Brigid. Imbolc highlights the theme of renewal and the awakening of life after the winter months. Ostara (Spring Equinox, typically around March 21st): Marks the arrival of spring, where day and night are in balance. Ostara is a time for celebrating fertility, new beginnings, and the growth of life. It is often associated with themes of rebirth, renewal, and the awakening of nature. Common customs include egg decorating, planting seeds, and celebrating the return of warmth and longer days. Beltane (May 1st): Celebration of fertility, love, and the union of the goddess and god. Beltane is often observed with rituals, bonfires, Maypole dancing, and other festivities that emphasize the vitality and growth of life in the natural world. Midsummer (Summer Solstice, typically around June 21st): Also known as Litha, marks the longest day of the year when the sun is at its peak. Midsummer is a time for harnessing the sun's energy, celebrating the abundance of nature, and enjoying outdoor festivities. Common customs include lighting bonfires, dancing, and gathering herbs and flowers for magical and medicinal purposes. Lughnasadh (August 1st): Also known as Lammas, marks the first harvest of the year and is associated with the Celtic god Lugh. Lughnasadh is a festival dedicated to expressing gratitude for the Earth's bountiful harvest and agricultural abundance. Traditional practices during this time involve crafting corn dollies, enjoying meals made from freshly harvested crops, and engaging in various games and competitions. Mabon (Autumn Equinox, typically around September 21st): Marks the second harvest and a time of balance when day and night are equal. Mabon is a festival for reflecting on gratitude, giving thanks for the fruits of the Earth, and preparing for the darker months ahead. Common customs include feasting on seasonal foods, making offerings to the land, and creating altars with symbols of the season.

#divination #witchcraft #witchblr #grimoire #magick #baby witch #witchery #witchcraft 101 #spirituality #broom closet #fyp #sabbaths #paganism #paganblr #wicca

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xxxdreamscapexxx · 10 months

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Sacrifices

Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Word count: 4.8k

Summary: After closing the Darkhold, Wanda struggled to find her place in the word. Until she met you that is. And in you, she found hope. But the past has a way of coming back and she’s faced with an impossible choice once again. A choice that’s going to break her heart.

Warning: So much angst!; lesbian relationship, break ups, nightmares, emotional trauma; Hurt No Comfort... This is my first ever Angst fic, so please be kind! As always, I’d love to hear your thoughts! Part 1: Sacrifices; Part 2: The hunt

Wanda drove through the dark, seemingly abandoned streets with a sense of unexplainable nervousness. She had that feeling all day. A sinister, foreboding feeling had been hanging over her head and she couldn’t shake it, no matter what she did. Perhaps it was the nightmares she’s been having. They were back the past few weeks and that last one had her reeling. If she closed her eyes, she could see it again, every detail of it, that filled her heart with dread. She’d been dreaming of the Scarlet Witch again, with her torn suit and tattered cape, surrounded by candles by the dozens, her scarlet magic emanating from her, surrounding her, spreading out from within and taking over everything it touched, until there was only magic. Until there was only her. Her power, her magic, her will. She could see the Darkhold too, its blackened pages filled with magic and a will of its own, a will that corrupted everything it touched, just like her, both of them battling to take control. But it didn’t matter anyway… If she won, if she lost herself to it… What was there to return to, when there was only her left. A whole world, bent and twisted, filled with nothing but mindless slaves, bowing to the Scarlet Witch and her alone. Shaking her head, Wanda tried to push the memory aside. She wasn’t that woman anymore. She had destroyed that book, destroyed the temple… Her temple. She had left all of that behind. That woman, the other one, the one she liked to think of as the Scarlet Witch, as if she wasn’t part of her, was long buried beneath the rubble of her temple. She was just Wanda now. But that didn’t give her any peace. After everything, she doubted that she’ll ever find peace. That such a thing even existed for people like her… She had wandered Earth for months after that. Trying to escape governments, heroes, “private organizations”… Trying to escape herself most of all. It was in you that she finally found some semblance of calm. She met you at the park of all places. You’d been walking your dog, listening to something on your headphones, blind and oblivious to the people around you, blind to her too, until your dog ran and found her way to Wanda, wagging her tail and begging for pets and attention. “I’m sorry if she’s bothering you.” You said as you caught up to her, seeing Wanda pet her gently, while your dog liked her hand. “She’s friendly, but she doesn’t usually just run up to people like that.” “Oh no, no bother at all, she’s a sweetheart.” Wanda had responded, her eyes studying you up close. Of course, she had seen you, found you beautiful, found your calm, soft demeanour very attractive, but she never dreamed she’d actually talk to you. Her days of chatting up girls and sweet talking them into falling into bed with her were behind her now… She didn’t want that kind of thing anymore either. She longed for a real partner, someone who would choose her and continue to choose her every day, for the rest of their lives. She wanted love, wanted companionship… A family. Oh, how she longed for that. Her glimpse of a normal life, of a normal family had left her aching, even if everyone kept telling her it wasn’t real. God, how could they not understand? It was real to her… “She likes you very much. I’ve rarely seen her do that.” You noted, looking lovingly at your dog and bringing Wanda back to reality, your dog still rubbing her head in Wanda. “Thank you for indulging us.” “Thank you for the company.” Wanda found herself responding, genuinely pleased to have someone to talk to. To her surprise, you and your dog stayed that day. The conversation started with something so simple and flowed from there. You sat on the bench next to Wanda, keeping a respectful distance, while sweet Bella perched her head in Wanda’s lap and refused to leave, content with the small, gentle pets Wanda offered her. Whenever the woman stopped petting her, too caught up in the conversation to notice, your dog would sometimes nudge Wanda with her head, silently asking for more of her attention. Wanda found that it was the loveliest afternoon she’d spent in months and she almost asked you to stay a little longer, when you told her that you had to head home, but she never worked up the courage to ask for your number or to ask to see you again. She could hear your thoughts as you considered asking, but felt too shy, too insecure to be so bold as to presume that this lovely woman would want to see you again, or would consider going out with you. You walked away, sometimes turning back to see her, still sitting on her bench, hands in her lap, motionless, now that she didn’t have your dog’s soft fur to run her fingers through. You thought she looked beautiful in the golden light of the sunset, so beautiful and so sad. Wanda couldn’t stop thinking about you after that day. Couldn’t stop thinking about the way you quieted down the worries and the dark voices in her head, the way you smiled, the way you spoke softly, the kind look in your eyes, the delicate gestures you used… You were smart, introspective in a lot of ways, but stable. You knew yourself, knew your mind and that gave you a calm security. Something that seemed to follow you. Your presence gave Wanda the same calmness and she found herself yearning for that. Eventually, she found herself in that park every day, hoping to see you again. It became her routine and the brightest part of her dull day, even if you were nowhere to be seen. The simple memory of that interaction filled her with a sense of hopefulness. She came back for weeks, until she finally saw you again, wearing light blue jeans and a simple white shirt. You were lovely, your hair down and your sunglasses on top of your head, while you walked. It was your dog that found her again, but this time you seemed unsurprised when you found Bella with her head in Wanda’s lap and you fell into a conversation, each of you sharing about the new things in your life. Truthfully, Wanda didn’t have much to say, she was content to just listen to you, her eyes following you with a tranquil reverence. It was only when you mentioned that you should have taken some water with you, that she realized how long you two had stayed and in hopes of securing your company for a little while longer, she offered to take you for coffee. It was with that one little question that she started her slow, steady relationship with you. It was just friendship at first, walks in the park and going out for some coffee in the afternoons, picnics during weekends. It was friendship, yet so much more. She longed for the days, when she knew she’d see you, because she knew you’d greet her with a hug, that for a moment she’ll get to be enveloped by your scent, your perfume, that she’ll feel your hands around her… And even though she hated to let you go, she knew you’d say goodbye in the same way and it melted her heart. She fell for you steadily, day by day, hour by hour, until she couldn’t deny it any longer, yet she held it all back, so afraid to lose this one thread of positivity in her life. She longed and she yearned and she let her heart ache at the thought of you, until she could stand it no longer and she asked if she could take you out on a date. A real one. A proper one. And she almost cried, tears of heartbreaking happiness stinging her eyes, as she watched you say yes. Restraint was a new thing for her, foreign yet appropriate when it came to you. It felt right that she would love you with reverence, with patience, with gentleness… She would often look at her hands, those blackened fingers that only she could see, always making her stomach turn in revulsion at the things she’d done. The same hands that she used to hold your own, to stroke your cheek, to remove strands of hair from your face. The same hands that she used to bring so much pain, so much destruction in this world… The same hands that you so often kissed with silent awe. As she drove now, on her way to your house, Wanda couldn’t help but let her heart break all over again at the memory of it. Fuck, how could she be so stupid as to let you go? But she had to! She never wanted to, never imagined she could or would do such a thing, but God, she had to! She’d spent the best part of a year with you, when it first happened. Someone knocked on her door, way too early in the morning, but she wasn’t sleeping anyway. Wanda was ready to send them away, when the sight of them had her frozen in place. Clint was there, another agent at his back, a young girl with a bright face. He was there to tell her that the government had been watching her, seen her turn her life around… He was there to tell her that the Avengers, whatever was left of them, were willing to take her back. And she tried to listen, she really did, tried to pay attention to the words of a man she respected, who had helped her put herself together, when the task seemed impossible to accomplish, but it was all just noise. All she could think about was you. Sweet, innocent you, the girl who had made her life better, who slept in her bed upstairs… Who the government had been watching. Because of her. She rushed them out of her house quickly, Clint and that girl, Kate, watching them get into their car and drive away. But she knew she’d see them again. From the moment she saw them standing there, she knew this won’t be the last she sees of them. And she wasn’t wrong. They came back, but she, she never wanted to return to that life. If only refusing was that simple. But it never was. The past had a way of finding you, claiming your present with the things left unfinished, and she could never escape it. Magic had resurfaced, old, powerful magic and with that, her past came knocking at her door. Agents that followed her, that sat across the street from her house, watching her, that investigated every small detail of her life. Agents, that eventually knocked on your door, looking for her. They hadn’t really told you anything, just scared you, but they also made her past impossible to deny. And even though she had no intention of keeping it a secret, she hadn’t yet been ready to share that part of her life. But they forced her. And that conversation had been one of the hardest things she’d had to do. The kind of thing that she expected to break you. To tare you apart from her and leave her heart bleeding yet again. She thought this will be the end. It certainly seemed that way at first. It was so hard to find the right words, to explain the things that happened, the things she had done out of grief and sorrow and your face looked so solemn, so shocked and full of bewilderment, while you stared at her quietly. By the end, she was ready to just leave, walk out of your home and away from the warmth of your presence, her tears streaming down her face endlessly, but you didn’t give her the chance. You got up from your spot and you took her into your arms, dragging her to the couch as she sobbed in your shoulder. You cried with her, cried for the pain she’d been through, cried as you imagined all the times she wanted to tell you these things, but couldn’t. You cried because you loved her and your heart couldn’t take her sadness. When her tale was over and she had no tears left to cry, her head pounding terribly, almost as hard as her heart was, Wanda knew you’d have to make a choice. A choice she never wanted you to have to make. But none of this was fair to you. That mess she had for a life was hers. It would be much better, much safer for you, if you walked away. You should have. You should have walked away and left her with her monstrousness and her grief. But you chose her. In a twist of fate, in foolishness, you chose her. The words you said that night, in their quiet strength still haunted her. “I will always choose you.” You whispered, as you placed a gentle kiss to her lips. “Love is the easy part. It has been so easy to love you, Wanda. But love isn’t enough. I’ve always known that. Love comes and does in an instant, if it is left untended. Forever takes commitment. Forever is a choice. And I will always choose you.” Fuck, she was a fool! She had that! She had you and she let it all go. Her hands squeezed the steering wheel, until her knuckles turned white, her body going through the motions of driving, even though her mind was somewhere else completely. She was so close to your house now. She knew every street, every turn, every house on her way there by heart. But she couldn’t pay attention to them. In her mind, Wanda kept seeing the days long past now. Despite your acceptance, things changed. She was never alone with you anymore. She would spot cars outside your apartment, dark vans across the street from her house, felt them lurking near you and felt so scared for you. She could feel the sticky, hot air of the summer, the smell of her Heliotropes and Gardenias sticking to her nostrils. Usually, she’d be delighted, but she couldn’t stand it now. It was making her sick, almost dizzy as it filled her lungs and her hands shook almost violently. Violence… Yes, that’s what was on her mind, her hands squeezed into fists as she watched yet another car with tinted windows park across the street. She had nothing to do with the sacrifices, she needed none for her spells, her magic was far more powerful than that. She had nothing to do with the dark omens that followed them either. Ugly things, created more by mistake, than design, but powerful none the less. Bloody rain, falling on top of the first massacred body and scaring the masses, the people who wondered near the next one going blind, parts of the city disappearing into stormy clouds that nothing and no one could thread. It was getting ugly, it was getting out of hand and she started to fear for you with each passing day. But the agents came to watch her do absolutely nothing. It was infuriating. More so, when she watched them take pictures of you, as you approached her house. That almost made her snap. But she pulled you inside, one of her arms wrapped protectively around you, as she rushed you inside. In a moment of weakness and a surge of magic, the pictures they took disappeared and the agents had the good sense of leaving quickly, but she knew they’ll be back. She just hoped that she’d sent her message clearly enough. You were off limits. She should have known it wouldn’t be that easy. In the coming days she saw them everywhere. At the grocery store, out in the park, at her house, at your job… They were following you too, you just never knew, your eyes were never trained to see them, to recognize their presence. But they were there. They approached you after work this time. And they weren’t gentle either. They had asked you so many questions, personal questions, followed you to your car, made you feel unsafe, made you feel threatened. And it drove Wanda mad. She spent the night consoling you, soothing you, trying to calm you down, all while her mind seethed with rage. They were never going to leave her alone, would they? They would never leave you alone either. And she feared there wasn’t much more you could take of it. Perhaps she underestimated you, perhaps it was her fondness for you, her love for you, that made her see you as fragile, but she feared this will break you. That it would kill your love for her, that it will make you stop choosing her. Perhaps she was afraid of how far she was willing to go to shield you from it all. But she found herself waking each new day with a fear. A fear that she’ll lose you. As if to spite her, as if to make this even harder, they kept coming, making themselves known, making their presence so obvious, that even you saw them. And you were afraid. Afraid to leave the house without her, afraid to be alone and afraid that one day you’ll come back to this house, her house that had just started to feel like a home, and she won’t be there anymore. That she’d be gone and she’d never come back. That you’ll never see her face again. Fuck, that scared you. Wanda could hear you cry at night sometimes, face buried in her neck and your hands squeezing her tightly, your fingers digging into her sides, as if to remind yourself that she’s here, that she’s real, that she’ll stay. And it tore her apart. It made her soul cry out to be the cause of such pain for you, yet tears never came. When she saw Clint again, she knew there was no other way. She had seen the news, so many people trying to make sense of what was going on, she’d seen the way people’s minds had started to shift too. Young people, so full of hope and understanding were in awe of magic, but most people feared it. They feared what they couldn’t understand or control, they feared what it could do to their lives and loved ones… They feared people like her most of all. And she knew where it could lead. Magic wielders, mutants, people with gifts had been persecuted before. If she didn’t help stop this threat, if it got out of hand, it could happen again. But she couldn’t do it, while fearing for you. She couldn’t go out and fight whoever was doing this, if she knew that you’d be followed around by agents, that her involvement would put a target on you, that maybe the wrong kind of people will come looking for you, do to you the kind of things she only saw in her nightmares… No, that was unthinkable. As Wanda reached your house, her car parking discretely some distance away, she walked the calm neighbourhood with her heart in her throat. She knew you’d be home, knew your schedule and she wasn’t surprised to see you in your living room, yet the sight stole her breath away. You were dressed in a black tank top she got you, long and loose enough to just about cover the tops of your thighs, the material of your black pantie poking out when you shifted and Wanda stood there mesmerised. God, you were beautiful. Just as beautiful as she remembered you… She came here every week, always choosing a different day for fear of being seen, but it had been a little over a month since the last night she ever spoke to you. She hated to remember that night. It opened a gaping wound in her chest every time she did. But she remembered none the less. She remembers the pained, desolate look in your eyes, as you realized she was saying goodbye, that she was leaving you. She remembers the silent tears that fell down your cheeks, unstoppable, no matter what she said. And the more she spoke, the more it pained you, Wanda realized, because in your love you understood. Fuck, she wished you didn’t. Wished you would get angry, that you would hate her, that you would hit her, because she would rather suffer than see you so broken-hearted. But you did none of those things. You just cried, curled up and so small now, so fragile it was sickening. And when she came closer, when she came to hold you, you recoiled, making yourself smaller, in hopes of hiding yourself away from her, as the pain inside your chest solidified. It was a living, breathing thing that Wanda could feel. It was drowning out everything, deafening and cruel in the way it turned your usually calm mind against you. “You weren’t good enough.” “You were never good enough.” “Baby, no, don’t think that.” Wanda almost broke down, her voice hoarse and shaking. Fuck, her whole body was shaking. She hated to hear those thoughts, hated that you pushed her away as she tried to take you into her arms, hated that she could feel you longing for her, while she was so close to you, yet you wouldn’t allow yourself, wouldn’t allow her to make it better. As she took the key for your house off her chain and put it on the table, knowing she could never get back from this, Wanda almost didn’t do it. She could walk away with you. She could just take you and go somewhere, where no one would ever find you, where there were no sorcerers, no sacrifices… She could protect you, protect the life the two of you had. She could be happy. For once, she could choose happiness, over everything else. She deserved that! She had earned that! Wanda had taken one final glance at you that night. Your face was turned away from her, unable to look at her, for fear that if you did, if you allowed yourself to see her quivering lips and her tearstained cheeks and her solemn expression, you would break down. You would forget about your pride and your self-respect and you would beg. You’d beg her to stay, you’d beg her to choose you, the way you had chosen her… Most of all you were afraid it wouldn’t matter. Now, as Wanda stood outside your house, as she saw the most precious thing she’d had, she couldn’t help but think of all the things she wished she’d done differently that night. But if she did that, she’d never leave this spot, never go back to the Tower, never do anything but look and admire you. No, she wasn’t here for that. She just wanted to see you, wanted to hear your voice again. That’s why she was coming back here every week. For you. For the reminder of why she was fighting in the first place. Slowly, tentatively, she opened her mind, her telepathic field extending around your house, as she let the thoughts inside your head fill her… And she let the sound of your voice break her heart all over again. “I know, Bella, I miss the park too. But I can’t go there, girl. I’m sorry.” You spoke as you scratched your dog, allowing her to hop on the couch next to you, so you’d hug her. “It just reminds me so much of her.” Wanda watched you blink back tears, dangerously close to letting her own spill down, her feet bringing her a little closer despite the danger. “I wander where she is. If she’s ok… God, I hope she’s ok.” You whispered pleadingly, even if the words were uttered only in your mind. “It’s gotten so bad, lately. It’s what everyone talks about. God, I wish she’s safe. No one will ever tell me if she is… They’ll never report it, if something happens to her. I’ll never know…” As Wanda practically reached your window, getting closer than she’s been since she left, she considered knocking on your door. Just to ease your mind, she thought, just to reassure you that she’s safe, that she’s ok, that she’s still here. But she couldn’t do that… “Oh, Wanda… My Wanda… I miss you so much, baby… I wish I could tell you that. I wish you knew how empty I’ve been without you. How pointless it feels to live day by day… I don’t want to face my days without you. I don’t want to face life without you. Fuck, Wanda, it’s not fair that you left! It’s not fair! You should be here! With me. You should have loved me enough to stay…” Wanda tried to breathe, tried to stay calm, tried to stop herself from sobbing as she doubled over, an ugly scream clawing at her throat. “Baby, don’t think that!” She responded in her mind, knowing you would never hear her. “Please, don’t think that!” “I would rather face life with you, than watch it pass me by… I would rather die beside you than waste away, one pathetic heartbeat at a time. Nothing’s worse than this.” “Losing you, Y/N. Losing you is far worse…” If only Wanda could tell you that. But it wasn’t meant to be. You could never hear her and she didn’t have the strength to knock on your door. “I wish I could see you. I wish I could just catch a glimpse of you… I look for you everywhere I go now. Every window, every street corner, every shadow and dimly lit space… I just miss you. I miss the way you smell, the way you feel, the way you taste… I miss your laugh, I miss watching your sitcoms with you. Damn you, I can never watch one again…” “I miss you too, my love. I miss you so much.” She tried to close her eyes as she listened, tried to look away from your face, but she couldn’t. You were so close. She could see every feature, every expression, every small detail… The dark circles under your eyes, the sagging shoulders, the defeated way you moved… You never looked like that before. Not on your worst days. You had lost weight, she could tell that too. You probably wouldn’t eat at all, or leave the house if it wasn’t for Bella… She had done all that. And it hurt so much to know she could never take it back. “I miss your presence so much, Wands… The way you’d wrap your arm around me, your fingers tracing poetry on the skin of my shoulders, as we talked. I want that back, baby. I want you back.” “I want you too, my love, I do. But it’s not safe for you… Not yet.” “Damn you… I don’t know how to feel anything but sadness anymore… I want so much more. Is pain really what we’ve earned in life? There’s gotta be more! I want to feel joy, I want to feel your love again, I want to hold your hand… I want to feel human again! Please!” You sobbed, tired and desperate and feeling so utterly alone. “I can’t… If I knock on that door, if I look in your eyes, if I take you in my arms again… Baby, I won’t let go! I’ll kiss you till I’m drunk, I’ll press you against me and I’ll watch the world burn. I’ll let it all burn for you” Sobbing, unable to stop it for a second longer, Wanda pulled away from your thoughts, closing her mind and letting her eyes move away from you, even if you were the only thing she wanted to see. She whimpered, back pressed against the wall of your house and letting her tears cloud her vision. It was better that way. Better not to see. Better not to hear. Better not to let temptation break whatever was left of her will. Pushing herself away from your wall and away from your house, she looked back one last time, seeing your body curled around your dog as you cried and as she allowed her heart to shatter. “There wasn’t much left of it anyway…”

#lesbian #writing #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #Scarlet Witch #Angst

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