sakur4ii

[sakur4ii]

Eat your young

Ch. 02

Y Batfam x GN Reader

Soulmate and Mafia AU

Synopses: In a city ruled by crime, the Wayne family stands on top. Their power and influence behind the shadows is unmatched, however despite their soul-bond and power something or someone is still missing from the equation. You have spent your life yearning to meet your soulmates, the 5 coloured strips on your arm a constant reminder that they’re waiting for you to. You just never planned for them to be the family you fear most.

1.9k words

Masterlist

Ch.01 <- Ch. 02 -> Ch. 03

Warnings for chapters will be at the bottom to avoid spoilers.

You feel sick.

Your head is pounding, your hands are shaking, and your stomach twists in knots.

You fumble with the keys, unlocking the apartment door. Stepping inside and shutting the food behind you that you realize— you’re crying. Silent steady tears land on your trembling hands.

It hits you all at once. The weight of your situation— of everything going on.

Falling to your knees the tears come out harder.

You were bound by fate to the most dangerous family in the city, maybe even the country.

You’ve always had some vague idea about the Wayne family’s existence. But it’s always been more like an urban legend. Stories about a family who runs the city from the shadows, stories that shouldn’t affect a broke university student.

You were a normal citizen, you should be worrying about passing your classes and going out with friends, not the mafia.

But now you were tied to them, whether you liked it or not.

You’re grateful your roommate’s out of town. You wouldn’t even know where to start—how to explain any of this. If you even should.

Eventually, the sobs die down. You drag yourself off the floor, wiping at your face with the sleeve of your shirt.

A hot shower. That’s all you can think of.

Just get in the shower. Clear your head and think of a plan.

Hot droplets coat your body, your nerves calm down as your muscles relax under the hot water. Your thoughts slow down and you can finally think clearly.

You’ve always yearned to meet your soulmates, ever since they’ve burned their place into your arm when you were young.

But now, you don’t know if you want to see them again.

You can only guess how they feel about you.

You must be the complete opposite of what they expected. You’re nothing like them, there is no way you could do what they do.

Would they even want you as a soulmate?

The idea scares and comforts you. You’ve always wanted to spend your life with your soulmates— everyone has always told you that soulmates are the key to a fulfilled life. But you don’t know if you want that with them.

They already have each other, maybe that’s enough for them? What do they even expect from you?

Questions race through your mind, the familiar panic starts brewing in your stomach again.

You turn off the shower with a shaky hand.

Steam clings to the bathroom mirror, fogging your reflection. You avoid looking at yourself.

You towel off, your movements sluggish, your limbs are exhausted. Everything feels too loud and too quiet at the same time.

Once you're in fresh pajamas, you crawl into bed, cocooning yourself in your blanket like it might protect you from everything. But it doesn't. The pressure in your chest still lingers, making it impossible to sleep.

You open your laptop. The screen lights up your face in the dark room, and for a second, you just sit there—staring. You click through open tabs from earlier today, unfinished assignments, lecture slides, and video essays on the muscular system.

You close them all.

Your fingers hover over the keyboard before finally typing:

“Wayne family Gotham.”

Dozens of results pop up—articles, gossip blogs, Reddit threads. Most are vague, speculative, nothing with concrete evidence.

“Reclusive billionaire Bruce Wayne makes an appearance at Maroni-Falcone banquet.”

“The Wayne Brothers: Gotham’s Most Elusive Siblings.”

“Wayne Charities donate record-setting $10M to Gotham University Medical Center.”

“What Are the Waynes Hiding? Top 10 Theories.”

You click on everything. Each headline adds a new weight to your chest.

There are barely any photos, just candid shots from across the street, blurry security stills, and a few gala appearances. But there’s one from tonight... You recognize them instantly.

Five men who command a room by just existing. Untouchable, and Unimaginably dangerous.

You rub your forearm where the marks burned earlier, now faintly pulsing like they know you’re thinking about them.

You weren’t just imagining it. They felt it too.

You scroll further, digging through years of articles. Trying to piece together their control of politics, tech, medicine, and underground crime. It’s like they’re everywhere and nowhere all at once.

Your stomach turns. You close the laptop and set it aside, sinking deeper under your blanket. But the knowledge clings to you, keeping you awake, unable to concentrate on anything else.

—

“When did you and daddy meet?” You asked, looking up at your mom with wide, curious eyes.

She smiled softly, running her fingers through your hair. “A long time ago dear, way before you came along.”

Crossing your tiny arms you huff “I mean it mommy, how old were you?” you pout.

She chuckled tilting her chin, as if deep in thought “hmmm… I think we were about 12, we met when we had the same math class in middle school”

you looked up at her with stars in your eyes. “What did it feel like mommy?”

“It hurt, at first— but daddy made it better” she smiled tracing your tiny hand over her tattoo. “He did!” Your mouth dropped open.

She nodded with a smile, gently taking your small hand and flipping your arm over. “He walked right up to me, held my arm... and just like that, the pain was gone.”

You looked down at your soulmate tattoos then back at her. “I don’t want my tattoos to hurt” you glance back down at your arm with nervous eyes. “Don’t say that baby, your soulmates will take away all your pain and make you that happiest kid in the world”

“you promise” you say holding up your pinky “they will make me feel happy— like how daddy makes you happy”

she smiles latching her pinky with yours “yes baby, I promise”

“Look at those pictures” Dick said, tapping the screen and pointing to one of your photo dumps on your spam instagram page. “They have a cute smile”

Jason elbowed him, not taking his eyes off the screen. “Be patient we’ll get there” he says side eyeing his brother.

Clicking through the pictures— birthday dinners, parties, group selfies. Then he paused.

The picture looks normal at first glance. You’re laughing with your friends and your right arm is lifted pushing your hair back. There they were— Black, Blue, red, orange, green.

He quickly screenshots it— cropping out your friends. Dick leaned closer, smiling at the photo. “aww, send it to me”

Damian barely glanced up “Send it to me as well.”

“Yeah, same here” Jason muttered , leaning forward in his chair.

Tim rolled his eyes, before sending it to the family’s group chat.

They spent the next hour scrolling through your accounts. Building an archive of your life— class schedules, part-time jobs, weekend parties. They studied it like a religion.

You lived a normal life— you came from a small town in North Dakota, you studied hard at school, and partied with your friends on the weekends. You keep in touch with your family, and even send them money when you can.

You were innocent. too innocent.

The thought crossed everyone’s mind.

They always assumed the final piece of their family would be like them—hardend by a world out to get them, But you?

You were soft, untouched by the hardships of their world.

But even so you were meant for them, fate tied you to them for a reason. They’d just have to figure it out.

The dining room door creaked open. Bruce stepped in, shoulders heavy with exhaustion. His tie was gone, shirt sleeves rolled up, and his eyes dark with sleeplessness.

“I got their school records,” he said simply, dropping a folder onto the wood table. “Took longer than expected.”

“I don’t understand why we are going through all this trouble.” Damian crossed his arms, looking up at Bruce. “we have the means to take them, why aren’t we”

Bruce sighed, glancing at the photo of you on Tim’s computer. “look at them Damian, do you think they could handle that?”

Damian rolled his eyes. “you took Jason when you first met him, what makes this different?” He huffed.

“That’s right we did” Dick sat up from his chair, “and look at Jason, he turned out fine”

“Hey!” Jason elbowed him hard. “I was 12, and it was terrifying”

Dick rubbed his side “Yeah, but you got over it” he said.

Damian smirked “of course you’d get scared”. Jason rolled his eyes in response.

Bruce sighed, “Jason was different, he needed us”

Dick scoffed “and what, Y/n doesn’t need us?” he stepped forward eyes narrowing. “we’re their soulmates, We are meant to be together”

“We will be.” He looked down at his oldest son “We just have to be patient” his voice calm but firm.

Damian stepped beside his brother, glaring up at his father. “Patient for what exactly?”

Tim turned around in his seat, watching them. “To make sure they aren’t scared of us.” He said plainly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Damian frowned “Why would anyone be scared of their soulmate” he said, eying Tim.

Bruce raised a brow. “Did you not see how they reacted to us at the gala?” he asked.

Damian rolled his eyes “That was just because of the pain” he argued “once we touch them it will be fine”

Jason rolled his eyes “you don’t actually believe that do you” He stepped beside Bruce, glaring down at Damian.

Dick rolled his eyes. “Jason, you of all people should want them here” he snapped, glaring at his younger brother “you know how dangerous Gotham is, especially for people like them.”

Sensing a fight about to break out Bruce stepped between his two sons “which is why we have people watching them now.”

“And what? That’s enough, this is our soulmate we’re talking about!” Dick yelled, hand combing through his hair. “ Why don’t any of you understand that” he groaned.

Tim stood up from his computer, and walked over to Dick “We do.” he put his hand on Dicks shoulder. “ Which is exactly why we are doing this”

Dick shoved his hand off. “Then why aren’t you acting like it, we need to do more.” He glared down at Tim.

Jason crossed his arms. “Since when did you turn into such a child?” He snapped.

Dick whipped his head to face Jason. “Since you three started putting my soulmate in danger!” He snapped back.

“Grayson is correct” Damian said coolly “you aren’t doing enough. They need to be here with us— safe.”

“At least someone gets it.” Dick groaned.

Bruce spoke up “We ordered eyes on them 24/7, that is enough for now.” His words were commanding “ We will make our move when the time is right—and that time is not now, do you understand”

“Yes” the two reluctantly said.

Bruce nodded “Good. Now get ready for tonight, we still have work to do.”

But even as they went their separate ways, each member of the family had the same thought pressing on their minds.

You.

OMG y’all, you literally blew chapter 1 up. I had to be offline for a few days (cause my family likes to vacation in the Canadian wilderness oml) but I found out how to get a connection and am able to post chapter 2! I also only picked reader to come from North Dakota cause I’m reading the great Gatsby rn, I have no knowledge of any sort of American geography. Also if you wanna be added to the taglist please comment it’s so much easier for me to just go down the list of comments! Anyhow lmk what y’all think and chapter 3 should probably come out around next weekish. I already have the outline for it and it’s a doozy.

Warnings: None for this chapter.

Taglist: @ihavenomuse @yandere-enthusiast @angwlart @parisprinces @theangxz @holyfishbailiffpeanut @batfamobsessedgirl @cupid73 @thecloudsaremyhome @teabutnerdy @vndexd @lilyalone @misspumpkin @cruzerforce4256 @gabinapo-tulongna @gaychaoticraccoon @exactlynumberonekryptonite @justanerd1 @deathbynarcisstick @brightlycrimsonarcade @lunazeytrl @hearts4mica @daisy56789 @sharks-r-cool-l @misamisa33 @planetstrawberrie @tartsiac @bellethesleepypotato @senya-zimm @luckynemi @snake76bites76 @sachitales @jellybxchiii @hazza3000 @cvpidsbow2323

Some of them wouldn’t work make sure y’all check your settings

[sakur4ii]

Eat Your Young

Ch. 01

Y Batfam x GN Reader

Soulmate and Mafia AU

Synopses: In a city ruled by crime, the Wayne family stands on top. Their power and influence behind the shadows is unmatched, however despite their soul-bond and power something or someone is still missing from the equation. You have spent your life yearning to meet your soulmates, the 5 coloured strips on your arm a constant reminder that they’re waiting for you to. You just never planned for them to be the family you fear most.

1.8k words

Masterlist

Ch. 00 <- Ch. 01 -> Ch. 02

20 Dollars and hour.

5 hours serving, 1 hour cleaning.

Roughly 106 dollars after taxes.

Rent is coming up and you’re still short 150$. If you pick up a few extra shifts at the diner, stretch your groceries out, and skip a couple meals— you might survive the week.

You sigh, fixing your hair in the fancy bathroom mirror.

Guests would be arriving in 10 minutes, your stomach churns at the thought.

Normally you would never take a job like this. serving drinks to Gotham's most dangerous criminals wasn’t exactly how you wanted to pay your bills. But desperate times call for desperate measures— despite how nervous you were.

Your stomach feels heavy, your palms are sweaty, and a cold sweat covers your body.

You feel like you’re walking into a war zone.

Taking a deep breath “It’s just 5 hours, you can do this.” You mumble.

Just keep your head down, and do what you’re told. It’s just like any other night.

You repeat the mantra over and over in your head. Clinging onto it like it’s your only lifeline.

“Y/N! Guests are making their way in! Get in the back!” Your boss yells from the end of the hallway.

Snapping out of your thoughts you quickly stumble out an apology before jogging back to the kitchen, tying your apron with shaky hands.

Guests flood in and you’re immediately pushed to the front, balancing a tray full with champagne flutes.

You never expected to see the Falcone’s and the Maroni’s in the same room— let alone see them discussing plans with Cops and even shaking hands with the Mayor.

You quickly swallow the lump in your throat, stepping into the crowd you begin to serve the guests. Whether they sensed your fear or not they paid you no mind— you’ve never been more thankful to be invisible.

As soon as your tray was empty you retreated back to the kitchen, hands shaking as you poured another round of drinks.

Letting out a shaky breath, you're able to relax a little.

The door swings open, and two coworkers enter mid-conversation. Lucien spots you immediately and veers over with a grin.

“How’s your first real gig going, Y/N?” he asks, giving you a knowing smile.

“Yeah” Margot adds, grabbing a fresh tray of appetizers. “this is kinda a step up from weddings and charity gala’s” She laughs, and puts a hand on your shoulder.

“It’s going good.” You chuckle nervously, they can probably see you shaking right now but pay it no mind.

“Yeah I was wreck my first time serving at some Falcone wedding.” Lucien says, waving it off. “It gets better with time. Plus the money is really good.”

“Totally” Margot nudges your arm. “And it's not like the Waynes are here, so you really have nothing to worry about.” Margot smiles as she picks up her tray and walks to the door.

You freeze

“Wait, the Wayne’s!?”

The colour drains from your face and your tray almost slips out of your hands.

“I mean, yeah” Margot says casually. “they’re on the guest list, but they really come to things like this. I’ve only seen them once, and that was like 3 years ago.” Margot laughs.

“Don’t worry Y/n” Lucien pats your shoulder. “If they even bother coming they’ll show up an hour late and leave before dessert” He smiles.

You nod your head, but your mind is racing.

As the three of you split off into the crowd you can’t help but glance at the grand entrance every few minutes.

The pit in your stomach is growing heavier and heavier.

Weaving in and out and around the crowd. You slowly find your rhythm and feel your nerves start to settle down. You're able to breathe properly again.

You're in the middle of giving a guest her drink when the room suddenly goes silent. Chatter dies instantly as folks freeze looking at the entrance.

Your right forearm starts to tingle

It’s soft at first, like your arm is starting to fall asleep. But it quickly spreads to all five tattoos, a dull numbness that won’t go away.

What. The. Fuck.

You try to shake off the feeling, praying your arm is just tired.

Your head snaps to the entrance and you see them.

The Wayne family.

Five figures, dressed in tailored designer suits that probably cost more than your rent for a year. Their presence alone is suffocating. Commanding. Cold. They walk in like they own the building—because they probably do.

And worse, they’re scanning the room. Slowly. Intentionally. Searching.

You lock eyes, with the man at the center. Bruce Wayne.

The tingling on your arm turns into burning.

White-hot, Unbearable, Blinding, Pain.

Your tray slips from your hands. Champagne and glass spilling everywhere.

Gasps echo throughout the room as everyone's attention snaps to you— including the Waynes. You can see Bruce Wayne mutter something to his sons. You can’t hear it, you just see them smile in response, not taking their eyes off you.

You can’t move. Your body has locked itself in place.

The only thing keeping you grounded is the shrill voice of the woman in front of you—now soaked in champagne and fury.

“DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH THIS DRESS COSTS!”

You flinch.

“I am so sorry Ma’am, I didn’t mean to.” You apologize, your voice is weak and the burning in your arm is excruciating. You want nothing more than to disappear forever.

She crosses her arms. “You better be sorry, Where is your boss? I would like to speak to him!” She demands her voice is sharp as she glares daggers.

“I- uh- Yes, I will get him right away for you Ma’am.” You stutter

You don't wait for her reply before rushing back into the kitchen, carefully avoiding other guests and your coworkers.

the moment you’re back in the kitchen the noise in the ballroom continues. Everyone has moved on— everyone except for the Waynes. You could feel their eyes on you the whole time. There is no way you could go back out there, especially when your arm feels like it’s on fire.

Running your fingers through your hair and pacing back and forth in the narrow kitchen hallway.

You’re fucked.

You go back out there, the Wayne’s will find you. If you stay here, your manager is gonna come in and chew you out any minute. Either way you’re screwed.

Your heart pounds as you try to think of something, anything.

Leave.

Sure you won’t get paid, and you’ll be late on rent. But that’s a future problem, one you can solve without your arm burning and the most dangerous family in the city hunting you down.

Screw it. You need to get out of heee.

You snatch your bag from the staff locker room with shaky hands. You don’t even bother changing out of your uniform. You're able to sneak by the kitchen staff and book it down the hallway, pushing through the back door, making a beeline for the subway.

Just get on a train and get home.

“There are hundreds of more important things we could be doing with our evening.” Damian's statement echoed through the limo. His brothers just rolled their eyes.

“It doesn’t matter,” Tim muttered, eyes glued to his phone. “We’re expected to show face.”

“Gotta keep up appearances,” Dick added, his voice laced with sarcasm as he tilted his head toward Bruce. His smile didn’t reach his eyes.

Jason let out a low groan, leaning his head back against the leather seat. “Yeah, and spend a few hours having to deal with those ass kissers”

“God—kill me now,” Tim deadpanned, not looking up.

Bruce didn’t flinch. “It’s important we remind them who’s in charge,” he said calmly, his voice quiet, final.

None of the boys argued. They knew what he meant.

The trip from the Manor to the venue was long, Gotham passed by in a blur of shadow and lights.

Arriving at the banquet hall the family prepared for a long evening, filled with people trying to cozy up to them.

The second the Wayne family entered the gala, the air shifted.

Silence swept over the crowd. Conversations died mid-sentence and people stood frozen— staring at the door. Even the most notorious families couldn’t help but watch them make their entrance.

Bruce’s presence demanded the attention of the room— his expression unreadable. Dick’s smile was friendly but hollow. Tim scanned the crowd with methodical precision. Jason rolled his shoulders, bored already. Damian looked like he’d rather be anywhere else.

It hit them all at once. Burning. A familiar pain on their forearms— each of their soulmate marks igniting a fire on their arm.

They shared a look.

The experience was shocking— something they didn’t expect. However the suprise wasn’t welcomed.

Without a word the family began searching through the crowd.

Their eyes snapped to the center of the ballroom—just in time to see a tray of champagne crash to the floor. The poor server stood frozen, a drenched guest yelling at them. Their hands were trembling and their eyes wide.

You.

You look over at them. Terrified and trembling. Their hearts skipped a beat.

“That’s them,” Bruce said. The boys nod, not taking their eyes off you.

As you stumbled out of the room, face pale, rushing past startled guests, none of the Waynes moved.

Not one of them made a scene.

They simply watched you go—eyes tracking your every step.

Then like nothing happened the party continued, they drank champagne, talked with guests, and discussed business with their partners.

—

The limo was silent for a long time after they pulled away from the venue.

Each family member was lost in their own thoughts. Staring out the window or at their arm— the burning had stopped hours ago, but the feeling lingered.

Tim was the first to break the silence. He’d been tapping away on his phone nonstop for thirty minutes.

“Name’s Y/N L/N,” he said without looking up. “Second-year nursing student at Gotham University.”

“Is that all the information you could find?” Damian side-eyed Tim.

“I only have my phone,” Tim muttered “give me an hour at home, and I’ll get everything we need” he rolled his eyes.

“Nursing student,” Dick repeated with a soft smile. “That’s... kind of adorable.” He leaned forward. “Any socials?”

“Yeah, all private. I’ll get in when we’re back.”

“Gotham university… How much money do we donate there?” Bruce said.

Tim looked up from his phone, already anticipating the direction of Bruce’s thoughts.

“Roughly three million annually,” he replied. “More during campaign cycles and when we fund the hospitals.”

Bruce nodded once, expression unreadable. “Double it.”

Jason scoffed. “Subtle.”

Dick leaned back in his seat, arms crossed but clearly intrigued. “So, what, we’re going to bribe the school to give us their records?”

“We don’t need to bribe anyone,” Bruce replied simply. “We own half the board. All I need to do is make a call.”

Hey y’all finished chapter 1!!! I was struggling so hard how reader was gonna meet the everyone I feel like it was an okayish job, I also wanted to make Bruce like a complete monster but than I was like yeah but he’d probably still be a philanthropist and donate some money to stuff (for like tax breaks and loopholes or whatever lolll). Anyways still working on requests I kinda slowed down but I’m trying to write at least a little bit of something everyday. Then I got an ask of someone asking for this chapter and I was already like 80% done so I went to work to finish it. Lmk what y’all think and ask if you wanna be on the taglist!!! Also the next chapters will be more heavy Ybatfam.

Taglist: @ihavenomuse @yandere-enthusiast @angwlart @parisprinces @theangxz @holyfishbailiffpeanut @batfamobsessedgirl @cupid73

[sakur4ii]

αηgєℓ σн ѕнє'ѕ ƒαℓℓєη кєєριη' нєя нєαят gυαя∂є∂

❥ This is a yandere batfam x neglected!reader who regressed back in time story.

act 1, act 2, act 3, act 4, act 5

MDNI 18+ Only

[PLEASE READ: This chapter details Starling's suicidal thoughts and descriptive attempts during her past life as well as the abuse she suffered by members of the Batfamily. If that could be triggering for you in any way, please do not read. Please prioritize your mental health and well-being.] ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇ ʜᴏᴍᴇ. ᴡᴇ'ᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ.. Welcome back to where you took your last breath and to the people who pushed you to that point over and over again. Take a moment to recount the injustices you suffered and the fleeting moments of sweetness that made you believe that there was still good in this world. Summon your courage. Don't look back. ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀᴛᴛʟᴇ ʜᴀꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ʙᴇɢᴏɴᴇ. ❥ TW: past suicide, suicidal thoughts, suicide attempts, bullying, emotional and mental abuse, bodyshaming, disordered eating and habits, future incest

You strutted down the halls with a sure footed swagger you didn't have in the past. It should’ve been unfamiliar, this confidence, the sway in your hips, but your mannerisms had changed since the day you awoke in the hospital and you finally felt right. 

Once upon a tragic time, you walked without making a sound, breathed as quietly as you could even if it made you dizzy, and never spoke unless spoken to. After a while your voice stopped coming; It was like you woke up one day to find it had disappeared. 

But now? Your footsteps were music to your ears and you eyed the slimy tendrils sliding down the walls with irritation as they writhed and receded as you passed.

You could barely hide a sour expression behind your impassive mask as you could taste rotten eggs and death in the air as you put more distance between you and Bruce’s study. 

It was true what they said about demons and hauntings having  a smell and you held your breath as you powerwalked to get away from it. The odor had been concentrated in his study, one of his many broody corners, and you were getting lightheaded during your “talk.” 

You’d almost smashed a paperweight through one of his windows because it was so overpowering. 

No one could ignore that smell of death, but you realized that you were the only one who could smell the rot, see the tendrils, and hear the cries. 

You were all alone in this but for some reason you were unafraid. Being alone and getting by with your own strength was thrilling and you couldn’t wait to see how far you’d go.

You finally spotted a bathroom and went in and locked the door behind you. Composure cracked as you hacked the last tastes of the spoiled smell away and rinsed your mouth and face with cool water.

You looked at your reflection and there you were.

In the mirror was your 16 year old self: Fresh from devastation and reeling from a series of events that you’d never truly heal from, but you were still here. 

Your heart was still beating. 

So many times you had prayed it’d stop and you’d go cold, but now hot tears pricked the corners of your eyes as you thought of your mother and loved ones and how it felt like you were given a second chance. Maybe they had given you this second chance.

Your eyes were tinged with a melancholy that you might be able to hide in time, but there was also excitement and mirth in them. You smiled as you admired yourself and sniffled. ‘Thank god I didn’t take after him.’

No one had ever been able to tell you were Bruce’s biological daughter and you were grateful for it in this life. You had truly been the physical black sheep back then, but while caressing your right cheek you thanked everything out there that you got your good looks from your mother’s side. 

That’s right. Good looks. It’s funny how it took dying to clear your eyes of the undeserved self-hatred 10 years caused you. You were gazing at yourself as the way you were, not the way they wanted you to see yourself. You were good looking and your mom’s side did the heavy lifting.

You didn’t see Bruce through the rose tinted lenses that everyone else did. If they were ugly on the inside, it bled through to the outside and you couldn’t ignore it. Maybe you were just too honest like that. You knew which side of the family you got that from too. 

In your critical eye, as someone who saw Bruce in the way he never showed the cameras, his apparent beauty was warped by his bad attitude and repugnant personality. 

If you were being completely honest, he had a shovel chin and non-existent lips on a toothy mouth that lied more than he breathed. 

His blue eyes were flat like the dead’s and as cold as a shark’s and his perpetually furrowed brows only pronounced a neanderthal-esque brow ridge and accelerated wrinkle development.

‘Hottest man alive, my ass.’ 

You saw everyone you had ever loved in your looks and if you ever felt alone, maybe you could just look in a mirror. 

You noticed the bandage near your left eye and tugged to slowly peel it and the super strong adhesive from your tender skin. What lay beneath was a silvery crescent with a shimmery cast with both of its tips pointed away from your eye. 

The scar was a few shades lighter than your natural tone and you tilted your head to watch it catch the bathroom’s light.

Your eyes widened and pupils trembled with emotion as you realized that it was pretty. You had hated everything about you, everything that showed what you’d been through—what made you broken—but you realized too late that there was never anything wrong with you.

You eyed the bandage around your neck and knew what was hidden behind it. A gnarly scar that wrapped around the front of your neck and was at least two inches in height and looked exactly like what it was—evidence of barbed wire having wrapped around your throat, wrenched your flesh, and nearly sawed your head from your body. 

It was a reminder of what you survived and what was taken away. A permanent choker, but this time you wouldn’t constrict yourself.

It was healing incredibly fast and you’d keep the bandage on a few weeks longer until the wound was fully healed, and you wouldn’t hide it when it did. You weren’t hiding away for other’s comfort anymore.

Looking back, the scar had been a massive insecurity, especially when you were surrounded by unrealistically physically beautiful people. 

Your skin had been one of your biggest insecurities and comparison had been the death of your happiness. You remember it like it was yesterday, the you of the past losing her mind over her skin not being as flawless as Barbara’s or Starfire’s.

Even Cass and Stephanie who fought hard every night were unfairly pretty with their scuffs and scrapes. You’d felt like there was something you lacked compared to them, and it was something you could never get no matter how hard you tried. 

You lost yourself, and no one was there to help you find your way back.

You covered your neck and hands until the day you died with sweaters, hoodies, and turtlenecks no matter the season. You concealed your skin and the figure you’d been blessed with and for what? You didn’t have an answer because there wasn’t one. There was never a good reason to make yourself small to make others feel big.

You rolled up the thin sleeves of your top to expose your bandages, wiped your face, and gave the 16 year old you one final grin. 

Her eyes sparkled back and you could see the woman you were just beneath the surface. She wanted to sink her teeth into something and let the juice run down her chin but you lightly persuaded her to cool it. All things in due time.

You left the bathroom with a slight smile on your lips and plans on your mind when you nearly bumped into Cassandra.

You blinked until you recognized her. She stared back at you unnervingly and you would’ve wondered what she was thinking of like you often did in the past if you actually cared. 

You had been so curious about her in the past. She was a mystery to you, but so sweet and loving to the ones who earned her respect and you weren’t one of them. 

It had hurt, but did it now? ‘Not at all.’

You were so over the doom and gloom and edginess of it all. You wanted open books, not the brooding mystery and darkness. These people needed to stop being allergic to healthy coping mechanisms and therapy.

You didn’t bother to smile, but you still didn’t exactly hate her. It was actually a good thing she was around since she could be Bruce’s little princess (it was always obvious she was the favorite) and they could distract each other while you went about your business. 

You liked that idea as a corner of your mouth nearly curled before quickly being concealed. You turned your back and nearly turned the corner when she called out to your retreating form. 

“Y/n.”

You paused and turned to her with no expectations. She didn’t know why she called out to you, but she really wanted—no, did she need?—to reach out. 

There was something about you she couldn’t understand and her curiosity was piqued the moment you waltzed into the manor and clearly knew who was worth your time.

Your expressions were ever changing, and your eyes conveyed a keenness that spoke of much more beneath the surface. She needed to know more.

“Welcome.” She said awkwardly with eyes that searched your face for a lifeline, to grab hold of the olive branch she was extending and start a conversation because she didn't know where she was going with this. This wasn't lost on you. She didn’t “try” to reach out to you like she did the others.

She never had or wanted to, and she was the one to stare you down until you lost your nerve and scurried away in the past. Now, it was your turn to raise a brow.

‘I prayed for this for 10 years?’ Your eyes went cold as you turned your back. 

It was a little too late, wasn't it?

Your heart fluttered with excitement—something you hadn’t felt in over 10 years—and it wasn’t with the delusion of being part of a big happy family or even being acknowledged.

No, there were bigger and better things that thrilled your heart and made you feel like you were walking on air. An uncertain future lay ahead but you were going to grab it with both hands.

Amidst the darkness that encased the manor, something sweet was calling out to you and telling you that you needed to go to the park. It was strange because you don’t recall ever going in the past—actually you don’t recall getting out much at all in the past—but you felt like that place was where you could kick off some of your plans. 

You knew there would be key players you’d need to meet and places you’d need to venture to make your dreams come true, and you weren’t going to benefit by being a shrinking violet in this life. 

Searching online, you found that you could get to Gotham Park by bus and the nearest bus stop was around a 3 mile walk from the manor. The weather was pleasant this time of year so walking the distance wouldn’t be a problem, and you could even get a bus pass online. 

One little hitch is that you’d need bus fare and didn’t want to ask Alfred for money so soon. 

You didn’t feel like answering any questions about leaving the manor when you hadn’t been out of the hospital for one day and huffed in annoyance. 

Maybe if you buttered him up delicately over the next few days you could slip in the bit about needing a few dollars. The sweet hum tickled your ear, and gently called you to the next step. Gotham Park was the next stage of this game.

You walked familiar halls to the kitchen and looked back on the time you had avoided it—along with every other part of the mansion—completely. 

It got to the point that even the thought of coming across a member of that damned family would make your heart seize up. You began to isolate yourself more and more until you stayed put in your room, the little bathroom in the same hall, and to the kitchen late at night when all was quiet or they were on patrol. 

You snuck around like a thief in your own ‘home.’ The anxiety made you reclusive and being reclusive exacerbated the issues you already had and birthed even more. You were a complete agoraphobe by the time you were 20.

You frowned sadly. You couldn’t waste away in this house a second time. 

The purple tendrils slithered down the sides of the walls like blood in old horror movies and wriggled with minds of their own. It was truly disgusting and you held your breath to keep from gagging.

You finally turned a corner and found salvation in Alfred who was in the kitchen and embraced by the light from the large bay window overlooking the garden. He was wiping a glass when you walked in.

“My, Young Mistress, I wanted to meet you and bring you back.” He checked his watch, “I’m so sorry. How did you find your way?” 

“No need to apologize, Mr. Pennyworth. I retraced my steps no problem.” You typed.

Alfred was still disappointed in his miscalculation, but kept on, “How was your talk with Master Bruce?”

“It went well.” You swiped on your phone before pulling yourself into a seat and adjusting the bandages on your wrists. Alfred gazed at your face and found that the bandage beside your eye was now gone. “Ah, there’s my Young Mistress. I knew she were very pretty.”

You gasped and turned away so he couldn't see the smile that hurt your cheeks. The thing about compliments from Alfred was that they were always sincere as was everything he said.

 If he called you pretty, it was because he genuinely thought so and that warmed your heart. Your family would’ve loved him.

“So, is this where you work your magic?” You texted, and Alfred let you change the subject with a knowing smile.

“I wouldn’t say it’s magic, but I haven’t had a complaint yet.”

You tried to rest your arms on top of the island and lean on them as comfortably as you could so that you could watch him. 

The way he moved across the kitchen was nothing short of graceful. How could he make chores look elegant? It’s funny how you avoided the kitchen and the sunlight it let in because of fear when you felt so safe in this warmth now. It took you back to a time where you belonged somewhere and you knew that the people loved you.

You watched him in a daze and any remaining stress melted away as the image of him busy in the kitchen began to mesh with memories of your grandmother doing exactly the same. Being around him, around someone that made you feel so safe, made life’s challenges seem conquerable.

“I’m looking forward to what you’ve got planned. Something about you tells me that you know how to season your food.” You grinned and he chuckled. “I hope I don’t disappoint.”

You were so comfortable as the soft clinking of dishes, the running of water as he rinsed vegetables and the low bubbling of saucepans became sleep sounds to you. 

“Where’s my head today?” Alfred sounded truly disappointed in himself. “Let me show you to your room, Young Mistress.” You looked up at him half awake with a trickle of drool nearly slipping from the corner of your parted mouth.

“Come on. Someone needs to rest before dinner.” You allowed him to guide you off the chair and towards your “new” room.  You'd be lying if your said you hadn't been dreading this moment.

Your room had been your prison cell and sadly it was half self-imposed. Your room had simultaneously been your safe space where no one treaded after a few years and the place where the darkness concentrated the most.

‘Not again. Not again.’ You stood up straight and stepped to the side where you took Alfred’s arm in yours. You’d be brave. This wasn’t your prison. A lump formed in your throat that you could barely breathe around but you wouldn't let the shadows know it.

“My apologies, Young Mistress, but this’ll be a temporary fix. I’ve recently gotten permission to start renovations and plan to have a room made just for you.”

You think you remembered this. Alfred promised to work on your room, and he even got the go-ahead from Bruce but it was never completed. There was always something going on. 

Some members of the family needed saving or all hell was breaking loose on actual hell on earth and Alfred was spread too thin. 

You placed a gentle hand on his own reassuringly and expertly swiped with the other. “Don’t worry about it, Mr. Pennyworth. I know you’re always busy. I’m happy just to have a roof over my head.”

This wasn’t just lip service to look good even though it certainly didn’t hurt to score more brownie points. You’d only be here for 2 years and planned on banishing demons and being outside for the most part. No need to stress Alfred over something so trivial.

Alfred froze like you had insulted his cooking. “What do you mean, Young Mistress? You deserve more than just a roof over your head and I’d thank you not to settle for the literal bare minimum.” He sucked in a breath between his teeth, “I already have catalogues and swatches for you to choose from.”

‘These plans will fall through, Alfred. It’s never going to happen.’ You smiled placatingly and patted his hand as you continued down a hall to a set of rooms reserved for uninvited guests. 

You could feel a petty and sarcastic energy saying “Welcome Home” mockingly and it made your skin crawl, but you did one thing that your mother told you when you were having a panic attack at school, “Turn that fear into anger.”

Alfred opened your bedroom door and gestured for you to enter first.

He tried his best just like always. The duvet and pillows were freshly laundered and matched your favorite colors. He had washed and replaced the curtains and thoroughly dusted everything and aired out the room. 

It was pleasantly plain save for the bundles of flowers, cards, small plushes and little goodie bags displayed on the chestnut desk. They were all gifts from the people who took care of you in the hospital.

 

You made a show of admiring the room and the care Alfred put into arranging it for you and looked at the names on the cards.

Not a single one from your new “family.”

 It’s a good thing things hadn’t changed; this would make it easier to be as much of an ass as you wanted to be.

You looked over to Alfred and a wide, heart-melting smile spread across your face. Your eyes glistened and you looked away towards the window to wipe them as you sniffled. 

“I knew it…” You whispered more to yourself and Alfred urged you.

“Knew what, my lady?”

“That I could count on you.” Your voice was a weak rasp that could be carried away by the wind but he hung on every word. He couldn't wait for the day he could hear your voice as it really was. He could imagine your full laughs and playful jokes clear as day.

You sat on the bed and looked genuinely happy with how soft the duvet was and his heart ached as he watched you be so pleased with a plain guest room. You were entitled to so much more, but you were just glad to be given a room and Alfred could hardly bear it.

“I’m going to get better soon so we can garden together. My mom had a green thumb and I think I do too.” You looked like you were trying not to brag as you texted and Alfred smiled, “It’ll be nice to have a little helper. I’ll prepare your gloves.” 

A comfortable silence passed between you before he remembered the saucepan and pots he had simmering on the stove. “I’ll continue preparing dinner, Young Mistress. Please rest and I’ll come get you when it’s ready.” You nodded as he left with a soft click of the door as he took the warmth with him.

It wasn’t even a second before you heard waves crashing in your ears and suddenly the bed felt like it was tilting sideways and you had to grip the sheets to keep from tipping over.

Swoosh, swoosh

You could hear the gale winds from that night and nearly feel the flood's spray misting your face. 

It doesn’t waste time, huh?

Dark clouds were looming in the far corner of the room. Yard-long tendrils hung low and limp for now as the house was waiting to feed on you. 

Had it been like this in the last life? Everyone in the house, save for the one man who actually met you outside of it, had already disliked you before you even arrived. Was it always the house?

You could hear whispers of the dead with the loudest being the most recent—The drowned and lost. 

‘Your problem is with him. Not me.’ You thought, feeling that the energy could reach them.

Tension was building in the back of your head and your temples were beginning to pound. You inhaled deeply and exhaled all of the negative energy you could. You wouldn’t let it in. 

You laid back and your muscles immediately relaxed against the mattress that Alfred must’ve replaced before you came. Your thoughts cleared and you tried to organize the facts. Was the miasma and the haunting the cause of everything? 

Yes and No. You knew in your bones that a hint of loathing must’ve been in their hearts from the start or it wouldn’t have been so easy for the dead to manipulate them.

 It only exacerbated their most negative qualities and the biases they already had against you, and with that realization you knew you couldn’t give them grace.

The haunting needed your misery because feeding off of Bruce wasn’t enough after being a stagnant food source for almost 4 decades and you were the sensitive sacrificial lamb. 

You were the survivor who got a billionaire father while countless innocents lost their lives because he couldn’t put one maniac to sleep or get off his high horse.

‘Sins of the father…’ 

You stared at the ceiling and thought of them all–The members of Bruce’s family who made you ashamed to even be alive. You clasped your hands over your stomach and willed yourself to be strong.

Damian had been the physical one from the beginning. From the kick when you had just arrived, to shoving you against walls, and making you fall flat on your face—something about you tempted the violent nature he overcame in the years before you showed up and he couldn’t resist.

 

You developed a fear response and could detect when he was near even if he was rooms away. 

You recognized his steps, his breathing patterns, and the way the air shifted around him. You were more aware of his presence than your own, and the mere thought of him inspired the most primal fear in you more than the first humans feared the dark. 

Maybe it’s because you suspected if he “accidentally” killed you no one would question it. Maybe it’s because if he amped up his cruelty and did something truly criminal, there’d be no justice for you. 

He made Wayne Manor a 24/7 battlefield but a hell that was too familiar to escape. If you ran, where would you go? You had no life skills or safety net. There was no place for you in the manor or the outside world.

Damian was the instigator of many shameful memories that’d haunt you in your subconscious but one thing that you’ll never forget for as long as you live was the time with your Nana’s picture. 

You had found an old photo of your Nana online that you printed out and kept with you. It was your keepsake and absolute treasure, especially after you’d lost all your possessions in the flood. 

When you looked at that picture, you saw someone who looked like you. That photo was an anchor that kept you from completely losing yourself and proof that even though you didn’t belong to this family, you had indeed belonged somewhere.

It was a quiet and good day because you hadn’t seen anyone all day. You had let your guard down and you recall looking back on that moment and hating yourself.

 

You’d been standing in front of Thomas and Martha Wayne’s portrait and gazing up into Martha’s face while wondering what she had been like. Her eyes were soft but undoubtedly intelligent. She didn’t want for anything, but she didn’t hold on to her wealth with her history or charity. She was truly noblesse oblige.

Her smile made you smile back as you held your Nana’s picture in one hand. ‘I wonder if you two would’ve got along.’ You honestly felt they would’ve hit it off.

You reached forward with your Nana’s picture to tuck it into the picture frame. It was a little 3 by 2 photo that didn’t take any space at all and you weren’t going to leave it there. You just wanted to set the two women near each other so you could look at the resemblance. 

Your two grandmothers.

You were so at ease that you didn’t notice Damian had been watching you from down the hall until he stormed at you when he saw you touching the portrait. 

You were usually hyper-aware of him but had been lost in the warm feeling that thinking of your two grandmothers had brought and your heart almost jumped into your throat when he burst onto the scene. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” His tone was accusatory and you felt like you’d been caught stealing. He wrenched your wrist and bent it painfully while ripping your Nana’s picture out of your grasp. 

He scanned the small photo. “Who’s this?”

“M-my N-Nana.” You didn’t mean to squeak but he scared you and his hold on your wrist had you curling up in pain. If you had to speak anymore, you knew you’d end up blubbering.

“Hm,” He stared down at the photo but something in his eyes changed. The razor blade cruelty won.

“Then she’s nothing.” He dropped the photo and then stomped down and ground it into the floor leaving a shoe print.

“No!” You pulled away and he let go, almost causing you to fall back. You dropped to your knees to recover the picture and he stomped down on your hand. You shrieked and felt knuckles crack and dislocate. Your cries echoed in the hall and he hissed “Stop whining.” as if you were a child throwing a tantrum in the toy aisle.

He took hold of your hair and looked down at you. 

“Don’t think that because your whore mother tempted father into bed that you’ll ever be one of us.”

You were struck speechless and felt like you were submerged in ice cold water. You wanted to retort but so many thoughts overwhelmed you at once. 

How could anyone say that? 

Why would he say that? 

What had you done wrong? 

You want to defend the two most precious women in your life but words failed you as you doubled over in a panic attack.

“Pathetic.” 

He wiped his hands on his pants then turned on his heel and left you there to pick up the pieces.

Over the years, he mellowed out and just ignored your presence. He’d scowl when you were near or exude an aura that said ‘Don’t speak.’ but at least he didn’t attack you like before or ransack your room and rip up your books and anything of personal value.

For a while after you came to the manor and before he decided you were nothing, every book, notebook, sketchbook, or anything else you cherished would be torn apart and left in your room for you to find. He was mocking you. Goading you to tell someone.

 

He knew no one would listen.

No one believed you or offered to speak to him about it and actually, most everyone (minus Alfred and Jason) thought you were trying to pin your own bad behavior on him, trying to frame him for attention, or were genuinely going crazy and wrecking your own stuff.

He used Titus to intimidate you, and instigated Stephanie to harass you by saying you were talking about her or messing with her things, and she’d always believe him and fly off the handle. 

You had tried to clear up the misunderstanding once or twice but you’d overwhelmed with tears and couldn’t speak during these altercations. 

In the end, you always looked like the guilty party who could dish it, but couldn’t take it and every case was closed with you as the bad guy. 

It was like Stephanie relished in hating you. You were her prey. A way to assert dominance and maintain her place in the family. You were never invited to things and when you were, it was to the wrong location or the wrong time and you always missed it or stood up. 

“Y/n! Why didn’t you come? We waited for you.” Her eyes were mocking but her voice was concerned and almost wronged as if you stood her up. 

She had a gift for projecting her voice so all could hear her side and assume you were in the wrong. Your voice only shrunk in anxiety, and her manipulation worked every time.

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” No the fuck she wasn’t. 

“We would’ve invited you, but we didn’t think it was your kind of thing.”

“Why are you always looking so sad, gosh!”

“You’re Bruce Wayne’s daughter. You’d think you’d have something to smile about.”

“You’re like a vacuum that sucks out all the fun in the room.”

You were in social danger any time you were in her sights. Every interaction had to be in front of an audience and she laid into you with no one to intervene. The few times you tried, you were ganged up on for being too sensitive and not getting the joke.

You remember her getting up in your face shouting and you could feel little drops of spit hitting you. You remember that disgusting memory vividly. She was yelling at you to never touch her stuff again but you never did to begin with.

 

You could see Damian smiling devilishly behind her as she did exactly what he wanted. He was the devil on her shoulder and she was too stupid to see it. Maybe part of her knew but she always bit the bait giddy to have a reason to go off on you.

God, you should’ve popped her in the mouth even if she would’ve beat you up after.

Cassandra was always witness to the social humiliation. She was the toughest in the family, the only one that could best Bruce in combat, but she did nothing to protect the weakest person there.

 She watched, she judged, she ignored when you weren’t actively being a victim, and you felt like a ghost. 

Sometimes it felt like you were already dead.

Tim got you mentally and Dick got you emotionally. You thought you could be friends with Tim with him being closer in age and sharing similar interests. He got along with everyone so why couldn’t you?

Simple. He was already biased.

 After reading up on you and fighting the media circus from the moment you were discovered, he’d seen enough of you for a lifetime and didn’t hide it. 

Attempts at conversation were met with withering looks that made the words die in your throat. Questions were met with exaggerated sighs as if you were the most mentally incapable person he had ever met. 

When you started homeschooling because your mental health declined, he mocked your course work and why it was hard for you to keep up. “I guess intelligence isn’t hereditary,” Something dark took over in him, “Or this is the best your mom could do.”

He embarrassed you in front of his friends and even made them feel awkward about it. Connor and Bart were disturbed by his behavior, and couldn’t get a real reason from him for why he was acting this way.

“Just ignore her.”

“She’s no one.”

“When is she going to get out of here? Why’s she even around?” 

One time, Tim caught you struggling over a very difficult math problem when you felt someone staring at you. You turned to meet his eyes and he said something that killed a part of you that you thought had already died. 

“I wish you hadn’t been found.” 

His eyes said he meant it.

Dick was apparently physically flawless if you asked anyone. He was considered a true hero, the de-facto leader of any team he joined or at least the most trusted advisor, and countless people and respected heroes trusted him as an equal. 

Surely someone as big hearted as him could just treat you like a person, right?

Wrong.

Your weight fluctuated with your mental health and your skin changed too. Stress breakouts and pimples were a common occurrence and your skin was either too oily or too dry at any given time. 

His eyes never really saw you, or let you in like a person he accepted. He looked at you like a half finished sketch that the artist had given up on. You weren’t worth finishing, but he figured he’d take pity and steer you in the right direction. 

He was so nice like that.

“You know that’s really bad for you.” He would say when you’d grab for anything you could eat quickly as you rushed back to your room.

“You’d look and feel better if you lost some weight, you know?”

“Look at everyone. You’d really benefit from some exercise.” 

He pinched at your sides to emphasize his words. “Steph and Cass are so active. Maybe you could workout with them?” As if they’d even let you. If you tried with them they probably wouldn’t go easy on you and you’d be battered in minutes.

Or when you starved? He was proud of you. Of course, now you lost weight in some of the ‘wrong’ places and your hair was thinner and you were even weaker, but you were going in the right direction! Keep it up, Y/n! 

He was confused that you didn’t glow like the others. You didn’t look like the others. Damian was so good looking so how were you the awkward step-sibling when you had Wayne blood in your veins? Dick shrugged. Maybe it just skipped a generation.

It had weighed on you. 

The misery had been too much to carry and you had attempted to take your life several times during your decade at Wayne Manor. 

You smiled wryly. You’d thought you were such a loser that you couldn’t even kill yourself right, but maybe it never worked because there was still goodness in the world that reached out to you when no one else would. 

You hadn’t failed. You had been saved.

The faces of those special few crossed your mind, and you felt a warmth spread through your chest and to your belly. 

The horrors of the past and the attempts invaded your mind as if to overwhelm you and force you back on that lonesome path to your end, but it couldn’t force you again. Those kind faces and selfless eyes made you smile as tears prickled the corners of your closed eyes.

It all went like this…

❥

You had gotten addicted to exercise and any way to lose weight. Images of Barbara’s and Starfire’s perfect bodies flashed in your eyes whenever you blinked and Dick’s “advice” kept you awake at night. It hadn’t been an attempt, but a consequence of your pain.

You’d been doing exercises on your bedroom floor, going too fast, pushing too hard, when you went into cardiac arrest. You and Alfred don’t know how he did it, but he felt a pain in his own heart when you were having the attack and he nearly flew to your room before he knew it. 

He performed first aid and rushed you to bed where he tended to you. He took you to doctor’s appointments and put you in therapy. He managed your diet and watched you like a hawk.

Once again, no one visited. 

❥

Tim’s cruelty had become too much for you to bear. It’d been a beautiful spring day and a gentle breeze carried the scent of jasmine all the way up to the third floor balcony. 

You stood at the railing and a great sadness and bitterness consumed you. Why were you the one pushed to the edge like this? Frustrated tears blurred your vision. Why were you so hated when your only sin was living?

 Even now on such a beautiful day you were going to end it all while they were all having fun together.

It wasn’t fair.

You climbed the railing and angled yourself so you’d land on the stone below and without another thought you pushed off and tilted head first.

Bart had watched it all in disbelief from the backyard, and hoped that he was just being dramatic until he saw you climb the railing. 

Tim had been prattling on about some new tech thing he was working on while Bart’s body was vibrating with unreleased energy. 

‘She won’t…’

She did.

He was racing to you and catching you in his arms in a flash. He caught you just in time before your head was cracked open on the stone patio and your tearful eyes fluttered open and found his petrified face. 

His heart was pounding in his throat and his hands felt numb. He had never seen you so up close before. He didn’t even remember the last time you spoke or if you’d ever spoken to each other without Tim interrupting and shooing you away. 

His mind was going crazy trying to find you in his memories and he realized he hadn’t been able to make any with you with Tim around. All that came to mind were anxious eyes and an insecure smile before darting away. 

You blinked through the tears and a strangled gasp slipped out as your face broke into disappointment, “Why?”

“What?” Bart was dumbstruck. Did you mean why’d he catch you or were you just confused. He hoped it was the latter.

“Why’d you save me?” You cried and Bart stared down at you as you fell apart in his arms. 

He didn’t treat Tim the same after that. He tried to tell Tim about your attempt and Tim waved it off as an accident. “She’s crazy.” He’d said and Bart couldn’t let it go. 

He felt like he needed to avenge you in some way, but he didn’t know how. It was a family thing, wasn’t it? People always said not to get into other people’s business, especially family matters.

He stopped coming around as much and even Tim realized he was being ghosted but didn’t get why. Bart tried to keep tabs on you when he’d ask Barry to mention you to Batman but nothing ever came of it. Barry knew something was up but was stonewalled hard by Bruce whenever he tried to be a good adult and float the idea that, hey, maybe his daughter needs help.

None of the adults intervened, and he carried that with him and wondered what he could’ve done differently for the rest of his life. 

News of your death had hit him personally. He saw it coming. He knew if no one had intervened it would end up like this, but he prayed someone in your family would come around and see the signs if they wouldn’t listen to an outsider like him. 

He was too hard on himself. He had been a kid like you were, but he hated himself for not saving you,

He never forgave himself or the batfamily. 

❥

It had been a gorgeous winter day and the pond had frozen over into pure crystal. You should’ve been enjoying nature, but you weren’t here for sightseeing.

Damian’s words and actions had gone too far regarding your mother and what made it worse was that no one defended you. 

You’d had enough.

You were wary of large bodies of water since the storm, but something about drowning to meet your end seemed right. Like finishing what had been started.

You were numb, almost robotic, as you walked to the middle of the pond, kicked on the ice, and let it swallow you whole. The icy cover slipped back in place seamlessly and it was like you’d never been there at all.

Connor was always aware of you when he came over. Tim dismissed you and you were too afraid to meet Connor’s eye no matter how disarmingly smooth he tried to be with you, but he was still always aware of your presence. 

It was like he was unconsciously keeping track of you, something he’d never done for anyone else unless required for a mission. For some reason, due to a completely foreign feeling, he needed to make sure you were there. 

He could feel you getting farther away, and used his x-ray vision too look through Tim’s bedroom wall, through the mansion and out in your direction.

His eyes found you immediately and he stilled as he saw your figure getting smaller and smaller as you got further away from the manor and farther into the brush. ‘Where’s she going?’ 

He half-rose from his chair as dread began to set in and leaned forward as he watched you get farther away and then suddenly your heat signature dropped and disappeared. 

He jumped from his chair and bolted out of Tim’s room, clipping doorframes and knocking off wooden panels along the way. Once outside, he took to the sky in the direction you were and found the point where he’d lost you.

His heat vision melted the ice above you and he dove in and dragged you out in seconds. His heart was racing the entire time as he gave CPR like he’d seen in the movies, kicking himself for not knowing how to save someone when he called himself a hero. 

What if he didn’t make it in time? What if he wasn’t doing CPR right?

He flew you through the cold and gently lay you in front of the fireplace where his heat vision had it lit and raging instantly. Alfred rushed to gather blankets, but besides that, they were the only two in motion. 

Connor realized that he was screaming for someone to help, for Tim to get his ass downstairs. His mind was so loud he couldn't even hear his own screams until he became aware of his throat going hoarse.

Tim ambled downstairs and gazed at your pale, violently shivering and barely conscious self. 

“What’s the big deal? She fell.” 

Connor looked Tim in the eyes for a hint of a joke or just a simple tale of Tim putting his foot in his mouth once again but Connor’s heart plummeted when he saw that the man he called a friend was dead serious. 

‘What the fuck is wrong with these people?’ 

There’s a shouting match after that, but Tim didn’t understand what the problem was. Y/n fell in the pond, and of course she’d be out there all alone because she’s dumb and just wants attention. 

Connor saw red and it all happened so fast. He may have hit Tim, and he may have gone on a minor rampage in the manor before storming out to never return again. 

And that was the end of their friendship. 

Connor would fly as far away from the manor as possible but close enough to see you using his x-ray vision. Sometimes he’d just watch you all night just to know you were still there. Just to know you were still alive. 

Metas were barred from Gotham and when Batman and the others found out about Connor’s bodyguarding, they ramped up anti aerial measures that forced Connor to stay farther away until he couldn’t enter Gotham airspace at all. 

The one night he slacked off on watching you was the one night he lost you.

❥

Jon had been over and innocently passed by the lounge when he heard Stephanie yelling in your face, “Don’t touch my shit again!” Her voice was shriller than he had ever heard from her even when yelling at bad guys, and you were as quiet as a mouse with wide glassy eyes. Even a naive boy could tell that this was unfair.

He peeked inside and saw Damian grinning like he was watching his favorite show. “She falls for it every time.” Jon didn’t know if he was talking about you or Stephanie as he frowned in confusion. 

His brows knitted together and his face burned hot when he saw your mouth trembling and heard you choking to speak. 

“Get Bruce to buy it for you. Why do you always take my stuff?”

“Maybe that’s how she always was.” Damian offered from the background, gleefully fueling the fire. 

Jon snapped. 

He wasn’t sure what was going on but he knew this was wrong. His inner sense of justice told him so.

“Leave her alone!”

Damian startled beside him, not expecting the outburst and the sheer force the shout gave out, and Stephanie leaped up and whirled around with wide eyes like she had been caught in an embarrassing moment. 

“W-Wha-, you were there?” Jon ignored her question and marched forward, “What are you doing?” He puffed up his small chest, his fists balled. 

“W-well, she took my thing…” She was suddenly slightly aware of how immature this seemed, but pride wouldn’t let her give in.

Jon was younger than her, but stared up at her like she was a simple child. “Did you see her do it?”

Stephanie and Damian held their breaths.

“No, but Damian said—”

Jon turned around to his friend, “Did you see her do it?”

Damian sneered indignantly, “And if I said yes?” Jon stared at Damian like he was seeing his true self for the first time. 

Had he been mistaken about his friend’s character this whole time? 

“Th-thank you.” You choked out pathetically to Jon and hurried from the room.

It was a screaming match between Jon and Damian and Stephanie that shook the walls, and even though Damian was one to always get the last word, Jon’s voice shook pictures from their hooks and threatened to knock over priceless art unless he composed himself.

He had to calm himself down because he had a feeling the more he fought with them, the harder it’d be for you later. He knew that he could leave and go back to his safe warm home, but you had to stay here with them. 

He didn’t want to leave you in a worse position than he found you. Clenching his fists and screwing his eyes shut tightly, he counted to 10 like his dad had showed him.

Maybe it was something Kryptonians shared because just like Connor, Jon couldn't let this go as he felt a grudge forming for you. Jon stalked away from the argument with no answers or guilt from the people who harassed you, one of which he’d called a “friend,” and he wanted to see you one last time before he left.

He pushed open what he thought was your bedroom door and anything he wanted to say died in his throat as only a pitiful “Y/n.” tumbled out.

His voice had been so small then, and it came clearly through the eerie silence that surrounded you in your room. You had fashioned a noose and hung it over a low hanging beam and Jon had walked in on you standing in place. He knew what it was for.

“Don’t do it.” 

Your eyes were red and glassy. They begged for help but they wanted even more to not cause some innocent kid distress. You tore down the noose and tossed it to the dirty clothes hamper. “I wasn’t, I promise.”

He didn’t believe you, but he wasn’t prepared for a situation like this. What would his dad do? It finally hit him how young and inexperienced he was, and he felt like a sorry excuse for a hero.

“I’ll be okay.” You hurriedly tried to rub the snot from your nose and rushed to grab tissues and move the stool away. “Thank you for saving me, Jon.”

He thought back to that altercation in the lounge and thought it didn’t count. “I didn’t save you.” He said more bitterly than he intended. 

He didn’t make anything better! The people who hurt you didn’t care and he had even misjudged someone he thought was a friend this whole time! 

You looked over at him, “Yes, you did, Jon. You saved me twice.”

Jon’s chin quivered and he was too ashamed to cry in front of you. He never visited Damian again and after hearing about the insanity at Wayne Manor and Superman himself trying to talk to Bruce, the relationship between the Supers and Bats was never the same.

Your death caused a rift between the two families. Superman treated Batman like a coworker and stopped acquiescing to his eccentricities. 

He went toe to toe with the Bat and didn’t back down on many things.

Connor and Jon focused on Metropolis and growing into men you could be proud of. 

They’d never forget the one they didn’t save.

❥

You hadn’t had him the first 16 years of your life and you’d thought you outgrew needing a father. You didn’t know him, and didn’t want him so why did it hurt so much when he obviously didn’t care about you. 

Why was one child loved and the other wasn’t? Was it because of your mother? He loved Damian’s and not yours? Damian was blue blooded and you were a statistic?

You did it the old-fashioned way in the tub and Jason and Titus were the ones who found you. 

It’s funny that the dog that put you on edge was the first to notice something was up. . 

He’d never attacked you, he was a good boy and unlike dogs bred for fighting and assault you knew he didn’t have bloodlust, but he intimidated you with his sharp knowing eyes. 

However, contrary to his master’s wishes and the evil dead that surrounded you, he couldn’t hate you. He saw the spirits of beloved pets floating around and following after you and he knew you were a good human with a loving heart. 

He wanted to get near but the malicious energy concentrated around you knew he could see them and that put him in danger. So, he steered clear of you and watched the tendrils and the dead that hated you for surviving from a safe distance. 

He was the only one who could see what you were going through, but couldn’t do a thing about it. Who could he tell?

And things remained like that until one evening he felt a shift. The walls were groaning and the wind howled but as always he was the only one who could hear it. His tail went straight up and his hackles raised.

Something was wrong with you. 

Titus bolted for Jason, one of the few humans he could sense had good feelings towards you, and took bit down on his ankle and tugged hard.

“Titus! What the hell?” Jason pulled back but Titus dragged him clean out of his chair and to the ground. The dog dragged Jason a little more to make sure he got his point across and then dropped Jason’s leg.

 

Titus rushed to the door and turned back to Jason expectantly, barking when Jason wasn’t getting up fast enough. 

“What kind of Scooby-Doo bullshit is this?” Jason mused as he pulled himself to his feet and chased after the anxious dog, his blood going cold as he realized he was heading to your room. 

Something in him knew what this could be about.

‘No. Please, no!’

Titus ran towards a door and barked and scratched desperately. Jason was close behind, almost overtaking the dog and broke the door down with a shoulder charge. It sounded like a bomb went off as the wood split and splintered, sending its remains scattering across the tiled floor.

There you were.

Your eyes were closed.

“No, no! Y/n, why would you?” He knew why, actually. He’d always had a feeling that there was a darkness you shouldered that was even darker and deeper than he knew, but he just assumed he had more time! 

More time to come around and finally talk to you, more time to work his way into your life and get you out of the manor. Why did he take it all for granted? Why did he, like everyone else, take you for granted?

He hauled your soaking wet body out of the bath and to a room nearest to the front of the house all the while screaming his head off. 

“Help! Alfred! Someone fucking help!” 

Alfred stitched you up and treated you in the med bay, and Jason fought Bruce in a way he never did even when he first came back as the Red Hood. 

Walls collapsed, bones were broken, and several had to jump in to try to separate the two but none were strong enough to end the struggle.

It finally ended when Jason realized he wanted to kill Bruce, and he almost succeeded.

He withdrew when he realized it’d feel so good to kill Bruce for you.

After that, Red Hood and Jason Todd officially broke away from Bruce Wayne and Batman. It was like Jason had died a second time as a quiet gloom was once again cast over Bruce’s life, but he wouldn’t acknowledge his failure. He wouldn’t acknowledge that he had any fault in your attempt or that that was the reason Jason would never forgive him.

The one time Jason came back to try to build a bridge to cross over to you, was the night you ended your life in front of him.

He thought he had more time.

Your eyes flew open and you inhaled a shuttering breath that struggled down your throat. Your lungs felt like they had been shriveled up and you turned your head over the side of the bed to throw up water. Where had it come from?

You coughed while wiping the tears from your eyes and looked up to see long tendrils like thick black hair reaching out and surrounding you from all sides. It was like you were a juicy fly entangled in a web and the widow was creeping closer and closer knowing that you had nowhere to run.

It should've scared you.

It pissed you off.

"You motherfucker!" You reached out and took hold of the black mass with both hands.

With two unbandaged arms and weaving scars that healed over the course of 10 years.

You didn't waste time wondering why you were an inch or two taller or why you felt stronger than ever before. You didn't take notice of the clothes that were far sexier and fantastic than your wildest dreams.

All you could feel was the raw hatred you had been holding on to for 10 long years as golden chains shimmered and wrapped around the writhing black mass that struggled in your hold. The moment a chain touched the mass, it sizzled and popped like bacon touching hot grease.

The mass let loose a horrific shriek from a nonexistent mouth like several pigs being slaughtered at once and your eardrums felt like they'd popped. It writhed desperately as the chains from your scars tightened and squeezed around it.

It shook in your grasp but you held tight and wouldn't be knocked from your feet.

"Go to hell!"

The chains clenched tighter until the mass was eviscerated into nothingness.

Your bedroom shook and you could hear the walls and inner beams shifting around you as other entities cried in horror and retreated farther into the mansion and away from you.

Your clenched fists shook as you caught your breath.

You ran your tongue alone a pointed canine and smiled salaciously.

Then, you looked up and saw your reflection in the plain vanity mirror. The 26 year old you who you had never seen so radiant and powerful before stared right back and winked.

❥ Tag list~

@kore-of-the-underworld @simpingpandas @delusiontown-exe @ottjhe @therealme13posts @yuezodiaco @fernwehraarta @crispybelieverworld @c4xcocoa @alishii @linasrosetown @oxt3n @omgfangirlland @nxdxsworld @chaoticmoontimetravel @marmalemon @rythespy @sassam @bellethesleepypotato @oliviaewl @lovebug-apple @sydneyyyya @pearlyribbons @nirvanaxx1942 @teabutnerdy @mourart7 @galaxypurplerose @holderoflostmemories @aelxr @magdalenacarmila @romancedeldiablo @addieverse18 @dirtydiavolo @ironsaladwitch @1nfinity-void @llikeballs @bit-subway @celesteelysia @kksmush @plsfckmedxddy @dannyisdying @inkdelicious @candyluck05 @mazixxss @wonderlace19 @lilithskywalker @eyeless-kun @treeeeeeefrog @yandere-enthusiast @soriansick @dumpsterdiverinc @ecto-800-1 @the-bookish-artist @ghostxmio @crunchycereals @hopingtocleaemedschool

[sakur4ii]

when reading smut and y/n says “daddy”

[sakur4ii]

Disparities Between Our Souls

Batfam x Neglected Spider!Reader Pairing: GN!Reader x Miguel O'hara

It had been 5 years since that night, since you had seen your family. However, after a rather unfortunate event, you are taken back to the city of Gotham and forced to see them again, with your husband alongside you.

Disclaimer(s): Canon typical violence, mentions of neglect, strained relationships with family, angst galore, more to be added

Based off this idea

Rewrite

Prologue | 『Someone I Have Loved, But Never Known』

Ch 1 | 『For We're All That We Need』

Ch 2 | 『Wanna see you, wanna see you but I gotta resist』

Ch 3 | 『The Dark Sea Gets Deeper As You Approach』

Ch 4 | 『Everything Begins From There』

Ch 5 | 『And I Am Not Alone』

TBC

Original

Prologue | Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 |

Asks

Parental figure Reader - 1 | 2 |

Taglist (open)

@the-dumber-scaramouche @lettucel0ver @khalinda-ev @cupid73 @inojinieeee @bbakaricanbake @akanescrustyashes @chiizuluvr @knufd @bbmgirll

[sakur4ii]

Prologue

『Someone I Have Loved, But Never Known』

Disparities Between Our Souls

Disclaimer(s): Neglect, Spiders, Spider bites

m.list | original | prev | next |

Desolate was this manor you lived in. You traversed through the halls like a ghost tethered to the place, never able to escape, and with scarce interaction with its other inhabitants.

Though you were not alone, it felt like you were. The place was full of life, flowers of every kind, and you were the weed that invaded their space. Many resided in this manor, and much more visited, but those figures were strangers to you. Strangers whom you knew the name and face of, strangers whose secret lives were known to you, but strangers nonetheless.

You had tried to connect with many of them once. It didn’t work, and you pushed no further. No point in putting effort into something you knew would only result in futile attempts. Though, now you were left lonely.

You couldn’t go to your father. No, never. It was a mutual agreement between you two that he would always be too busy to deal with your menial problems— at least, they were, compared to the crimes he had to fight. This realisation struck you when you first came to the manor, even before he knew his persona of Batman. Your first proper conversation with him was short, walls placed around both your hearts.

At the time, you at least had Jason. Oh your sweet little brother. You truly loved him, and hell, you even tried to fix up your relationship with Bruce because of him. You found out about your family’s vigilantism through him— when you would wake up and he would be littered with bruises and cuts one too many times. You warned both your father and Jason about the dangers, but you could not stop them. You could only hope that Batman would keep Robin safe.

But he didn’t.

He didn’t, and Jason died because of it. The only light in this bleak manor was gone. The walls around your hearts were built back up again, now higher than ever. You could not reassure Bruce, not when you were dealing with your own drowning grief.

You barely spent time outside of your room, spending most your days on your studies to distract yourself. You barely noticed when Tim had first started basically living in the manor, but when you did, you knew it was too late to save him. You knew he was in too deep into this rabbit hole that was the vigilante life.

You tried once, but the fire in his eyes burned too bright. You knew it would burn you if you continued, and so you didn’t. You never bothered him after that, but neither did he to you.

Steph came not long after Tim did. You two never really interacted. She didn’t stay in the manor, and the times you saw her, she was too focused on proving herself.

Dick, when you had moved to the manor, was already living at Bludhaven. Never did you two have the opportunity to connect, even after Jason’s death. You envied him at times. He could afford to have relationships with the others, he could keep them safe. Unlike you, someone who had no knowledge in fighting, no super extraordinary wits. You harbored no hate, but the jealousy was enough for you to keep your distance.

Damian and you had no chance at all, and both of you knew that from your first meeting. He had barely heard of you from his mother, all he knew was that you didn’t meet any expectations that came from being the first-born child of The Batman. Every time you saw him, he always seemed to have barely other feelings than hatred for you. You let the other members of your family to deal with him and his rampant emotions.

When Jason had came back, you were hesitant. At first it was out of disbelief that he was alive, especially after you saw his mangled body buried deep in the ground, but when you saw him you knew he wasn’t the same. He felt different, he looked different. You tried approaching him, but he would create distance with you, like he did with the rest of the family. He was the only one who you kept trying for, trying to connect again, trying to accept this double life of his, but you were returned with only distant and fleeting glances. Now, like the others, walls were built and relationships were strained between you two.

Perhaps the only exception was Cassandra. You two didn’t hit it off straight away, in fact the start of your relationship was quite similar to most others. However, later when she had finally settled into this new life of hers, she had come up to you, offering to spend time with you. You remember you had been so shocked that the awkward silence between you two had been stretched thin before you had responded with a hesitant yes. You two reached out to each other every once in a while after that. The friendship was still new and budding, but it was there and it didn’t show any signs to die out anytime soon.

When you were alone— which was most times—, you would reminisce of when you had still lived with your aunt. You missed the simpler times when it was just you and your aunt, in a small run-down house in the city of Gotham, but alas you could not defy the fate written out for you. Instead, you spent your days in the manor, loneliness shrouded onto you with only a few occasional exceptions courtesy of Cass.

Resentment wasn’t something you felt towards your siblings. Perhaps it was more of indifference, perhaps it was something else. You didn’t know and probably wouldn’t— emotions were a complex topic you never truly understood. You knew one thing was for certain though, this was not the life your aunt had wanted you to live.

The night was silent— at least, in the manor. Batman and Robin were out for patrol, the others seemingly doing their own things as well, which you assumed were most likely vigilante-related as well.

You were asleep in your room, nothing out of the ordinary. That is except for the barely audible sound of multiple miniscule legs scattering across the room. An anomaly in the usually clean and arachnid-free Wane Manor.

You were all the unsuspecting as it crawled closer and close to you. Its miniscule hairs bristled on your skin as it walked up your arm. It stopped at the middle of your forearm and bit down, fangs penetrating your skin. It lets go, trying to quickly scuttle away from the danger that was you.

It was too slow though, as your hand had made contact with the creature. You groan at the itch from the bite, more annoyed than hurt.

That is until the pain multiplied tenfold.

Your eyes snap open, no longer half-closed from the fatigue of sleep. You tried to move, but nothing would listen to your mind. Everything felt too heavy, like a truck had been placed on top of you.

You looked around frantically, but you were alone. You tried to shout, for anyone, anything, but nothing came out. Your vision started to become blurry, tears welling in your eyes.

The room felt hot. Or was that you?

You gasped for air. It was hot. It was hard to breathe. Help. Please. Please. Someone come. Please. Please please please. Hurt. Everything hurts. It’s blurry. Someone.

You heard something beyond your sobs from beside you. You tried to look but to no avail. The only thing you could see through the blurriness of your tears were vibrant colours. You think it resembles a circle— a portal of some sort, but you couldn’t tell if it was you mind deceiving you.

You didn’t care. You wanted this pain, this heat, gone. Your vision faded in and out. The room spun. It had gotten harder and harder to get your eyes to stay open. Yet, you could also feel your energy fading away. You tried to fight the sensation of being pulled, but you lost.

Your mind faded to black. The night once again silent and calm.

Taglist (open)

@the-dumber-scaramouche @lettucel0ver @khalinda-ev @cupid73 @inojinieeee @bbakaricanbake @akanescrustyashes @chiizuluvr @knufd @bbmgirll

Prologue is done! Yippee!! Tried to flesh out Reader's relationship with the fam a bit more but I don't think I did it very well lol.

Anyways what do we think about the new border? Do we like the spider or the sparkle more?

You guys know the drill, mistakes are free to point out and will be fixed immediately.

Will take a while to upload the next chap since this term is a busy term (again lol) - currently preparing for two dance performances in 8 weeks and almost all my exams are worth 60% of my grade, if I don't pass I can't graduate so yay!! no pressure at all to me.

Have a great day/night everyone <3

[sakur4ii]

✩𝓚𝓛𝓐𝓤𝓢 𝓜𝓘𝓚𝓐𝓔𝓛𝓢𝓞𝓝 𝓧 𝓕𝓔𝓜𝓐𝓛𝓔 𝓡𝓔𝓐𝓓𝓔𝓡✩

You knew better than to get involved with someone like Klaus Mikaelson.

Especially when you were already tangled up in the chaos that was Mystic Falls. Your days were split between helping Bonnie sort through grimoires, trying to keep Elena from sacrificing herself for everyone, and occasionally talking Damon out of making terrible decisions. You weren’t the strongest witch, but you were reliable—and that made you useful.

It also made you a target.

You first crossed paths with Klaus during the whole hybrid mess—right around the time Elena's blood became everyone’s favorite obsession. He didn’t come after you at first. Just watched. You’d feel it—his gaze on the back of your neck when you left the Grill, the shift in the air when you walked home through the woods. The Mikaelsons didn’t believe in boundaries, apparently.

You confronted him once. Met him face to face.

“What do you want?” you asked, pulse racing. “I’m not involved in your war.”

He gave you a once-over, head tilted like he was trying to piece you together. “Aren’t you, though? You’re quite close with the doppelgänger and her little inner circle.”

You didn’t flinch. “I help my friends. That doesn’t make me your problem.”

He smiled at that. It wasn’t warm. “No, love. That makes you mine.”

After that, he didn’t disappear.

If anything, Klaus made himself comfortable in your life—showing up at the Mystic Grill uninvited, interrupting spellwork with smug commentary, walking beside you like he belonged there.

It was infuriating.

Worse, it was confusing.

He didn’t act like the villain they warned you about. Sure, he was dangerous—everyone knew that. But around you, he wasn’t cruel. He was careful. Curious. Like he couldn’t figure out why he wasn’t terrifying you, and why that made him want to keep talking to you.

You tried to ignore it. You had enough on your plate.

But the pull didn’t go away.

You told Bonnie about it once—just a sliver of it.

“There’s something… off,” you’d said, low enough that no one else at the Salvatore house could hear. “I feel like I’ve known him before.”

She frowned. “You mean déjà vu?”

“No. Deeper than that.”

Bonnie paused, something flickering in her expression. “Be careful,” she said finally. “Whatever bond he thinks he has with you—it’s Klaus. He always has an angle.”

You wanted to believe she was right. That it was manipulation. Some trick of magic or blood.

But one night, when Klaus sat beside you on the porch steps outside Caroline’s party, far from the noise and music, he looked… tired.

Not bored. Not calculating. Just tired.

“You ever think we’re all just… cursed to repeat the same things?” he asked, voice low. “Same wars. Same heartbreak. Same endings.”

You glanced at him. “That’s bleak.”

He gave a half-smile. “I suppose I’ve earned it.”

You didn’t touch him. Didn’t say anything comforting.

But for some reason, you didn’t leave either.

The moment it changed, really changed, came during a fight none of you saw coming.

A rogue vampire came through town—strong, old, the kind who didn’t care about rules. He wasn’t after Elena or the cure or power. He was after blood. And when you tried to stop him with a basic binding spell, he knocked you into a tree so hard your vision blurred.

You heard Elena scream. Damon’s voice cursing. And then—

Klaus.

He ripped the vampire apart like it was instinct. No flair. No speech. Just pure, furious violence. And then he was beside you, crouched low, hands trembling as they hovered over your face.

“You’re alright,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. “You’re going to be alright.”

You blinked at him. “You came.”

His expression cracked. “Of course I did.”

After that, the truth unraveled quickly.

You were mates.

It wasn’t a fairytale thing. No prophecy. No perfect love story.

Just an ancient, brutal tether between two souls who kept finding each other—lifetime after lifetime, always in the middle of chaos. Sometimes lovers. Sometimes strangers. Always doomed.

You felt it like a bruise in your chest. And he did too.

“I knew before you did,” he said one night in the woods, away from the others. “The first time I saw you. It was like… breathing after centuries underwater.”

You looked at him, raw and unsure. “Then why not say something?”

“Because I don’t deserve it,” Klaus said. “And I thought maybe, for once, you’d have a chance at a life that didn’t end in blood.”

You didn’t tell Elena right away.

You weren’t sure how. Klaus was still Klaus. He threatened her friends, manipulated Stefan, nearly killed Tyler. Nothing changed that.

But he never lied to you. Never tried to control you.

He showed up when you needed him. Kept your secrets. Watched your back.

He never pushed.

And you found yourself waiting for him. Looking for him in crowds. Hearing his voice in the quiet spaces between chaos.

It wasn’t easy. Loving him wasn’t something you fell into—it was something you fought. Every day. Every time he slipped back into old habits. Every time someone reminded you of what he’d done.

“You don’t have to defend me,” Klaus said once, quietly, when you bailed him out of another mess. “I am what I am.”

“No,” you told him. “You’re more than what you’ve done. Or you wouldn’t be here.”

He didn’t argue. He just looked at you like you’d said something impossible.

The Salvatore house didn’t take the news well.

Damon looked at you like you’d lost your mind. “You know he’s the villain, right?”

“I know he’s a person,” you said.

Bonnie was quieter about it. She didn’t judge, but she didn’t trust it either. “I just don’t want you to get hurt,” she told you.

Caroline avoided you for a while.

You didn’t blame them.

You didn’t expect them to understand.

But you stayed. And so did he.

You built something in the spaces between disaster—small, steady, yours. Late-night conversations. Quiet walks. Letters he never let you see him writing. A bond that didn’t need a label to feel real.

Klaus didn’t change overnight. He didn’t stop being angry or possessive or deeply, deeply wounded.

But he tried.

For you, he tried.

And you? You stopped waiting for someone easier. You stopped apologizing for the way you felt.

One night, with Mystic Falls quiet for once, Klaus found you sitting by the lake.

He sat beside you, pulling his coat tighter against the wind.

“Do you ever think,” he said slowly, “that we’re allowed to want something more? Not power. Not revenge. Just… peace?”

You watched the water ripple. “Yeah. I think about it a lot.”

He looked at you then, softer than you’d ever seen him. “Then let’s try.”

You nodded.

And for once, it didn’t feel like a promise made too late.

Words- 2,010

[sakur4ii]

𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖑𝖚𝖘𝖙 — TVD x female!reader — 𝕻𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖚𝖊

𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙛 𝘿𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙪𝙡𝙖 𝙚𝙭𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙏𝙑𝘿 𝙪𝙣𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙖𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙡 𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙣, 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 𝙗𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪?

𝚃𝚅𝙳 𝚡 𝚏𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

(MAJOR DISCLAIMER: This is in no way going to be historically accurate to Transylvania in the past, I'm sorry if anything seems out of place. There won't be any major historical references either. Also, none of these images belong to me. They are from pinterest, therefore I do not own them. WARNINGS: Mentions, Descriptions, and Drinking of Blood. Crude language and humor. Small description of a break down/panic/anxiety attack. And lastly death. If any of these make you uncomfortable, please do not force yourself to read this. Now, enjoy the prolouge <3)

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

𝑻𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒚𝒍𝒗𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒂 — 𝑬𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒚 1400'𝒔

Branches and twigs snapped underneath your feet as you ran. You dared not pay attention to their cries for you had much more pressing matters to worry about.

Like the angry mob behind you.

It was a funny story, truly. Something you'd laugh about with your grandchildren one day— if you manage to survive this that is. You were an orphan, you couldn't remember your parents nor did you want to. They left you on the doorstep of a house with the most unsavory of people inside. A wealthy man and woman who had three daughters of their own. You'd think their hearts would be decent enough to take in an infant who couldn't even talk, and treat them like their own. Perhaps that's how it was at first, but by the time you reached the age of ten? They showed their true colors.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

You remember being brought to sit down on one of the ornate chairs in the dining room. As the people who deemed themselves as your "guardians" stood in front with a stern expression. After a few moments of pregnant silence, the distinguished man spoke.

"[Name], I believe it's time you start pulling your own weight around here. Starting tomorrow you will help out the servants, do whatever they ask."

You were surprised. You hadn't seen any of your "sisters" do household work. So why did you? Pehaps it was to teach you character. To be appreciative of what you have. So, despite your questions and underlying worry, you nodded enthusiastically. You would make them proud.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

It didn't bother you at first, you were more than happy to assist the people that took you in. You expected the servants to treat you kindly, as they always have. Yet...

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

A plate was shattered in front of you, your hands were shaking uncontrollably in fear. You hadn't dropped it, it was thrown. By who you thought was one of the nicest housekeepers you've ever met— given that she was the only one you had ever met.

"You had one job! To polish the cutlery, to make it shine like the brightest of stars! Yet you couldn't even do that— you insolent child!"

Her words were clear and precise, as they always had been. But this time she was addressing you in anger, not in polite kindness. It was such a shift that you could barely comprehend your apparent error. One of your "sister's" had stated that her plate had an unsightly smudge on it, she refused eat off of it. She made such a huge fuss that it could be heard all the way in the kitchen.

You were in charge of polishing the cutlery that day, she surely knew it. You had been the one who told her when passing by in the corridor earlier. You had polished those plates until your fingers were numb. You knew there was no smudge on that plate. So why? Why would she lie?

"B..But they were clean. I swear it! She must've lied—" As soon as those words left your mouth, you felt her hand come in contact with your face, taking you aback. She had hit you. She slapped you. You prayed that this whole interaction was a nightmare, but if it was that slap would've woken you up.

"How dare you insinuate that one of the young misses is being untruthful! Know your place, you wretch."

Weren't you one of the young misses as well? Was it not just a few months ago that your words held that same weight?

The shock was still present, your mouth was agape as you felt tears sting your eyes. You could barely register the fact that the housekeeper had grabbed you by your hand and began dragging you down a flight of stairs. You tried to fight against her, but alas she was stronger. You had pleaded with your eyes to the other servants, but they diverted their gazes almost mournfully.

"You want to give so much lip, than maybe a night in the cellar will sort you out!"

Her words were harsh, cold, and unfeeling. What changed? Why was she being so ruthless to you all of the sudden? You wanted ask— no demand answers. However she shoved you into a dark room before you got the chance.

You landed on your knees, feeling the horrid scrape of concrete to your skin. You wanted to cry out, but your voice was lost.

You heard the door slam and the fading footsteps of the housekeeper. You were frozen. It was so dark. You hate the dark.

Finally the pleads ripped out of your throat.

"No, no, no, no— please! I'm sorry! Don't leave me in here! I'll never do it again, please!"

Whether she could hear you or not didn't matter. She didn't come back. That's when you learned that there was always a wall between you and them. One that you didn't see before. Maybe due to ignorant bliss you wished to live in. They never saw you as family, and never will.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

You grew up like that. Being skittish and fearful of making the slightest mistake in fear of whatever punishment they would cook up next.

The years flew by, and soon you were seventeen years of age. Nobody told you that being seventeen would come with admirers? You wish you had known so you could've avoided him at all costs.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

"Marriage?"

The word escaped your lips with both shock and disgust. Not towards marriage itself, oh no. It was towards the man they were about to force you to marry.

"He is of good family, wealthy, a lord in his own right—"

They were making him sound so desirable, when he was anything but.

"He is also old enough to be my father!"

You rebutted, for once holding your ground. You had put up with a lot over the years, but you refused to be married to a man you didn't even like.

"Do not be ungrateful, [Name]. We worked tirelessly to find you this match."

Grateful? You should be grateful that these people were trying to send you away to be wed to an old man? The very people that treated you worse than the dirt on the bottom of their boots? You should be grateful to them? What a cruel joke.

"I did not ask this of you."

Your voice was trembling, but it was also firm. This couldn't be your fate. You refused it.

"There will be no more discussions on this matter, you will be wed in a fortnight. That is final."

You couldn't get another word in after that. They had walked out, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Your stubborn, impulsive, and beautiful thoughts. They obviously would not see reason, that was not surprising. There was no way they would listen.

So what did you do?

You ran.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

You turned your head to look back towards where you came from, still hearing the enraged yells of the people who were chasing you like you were some form of escaped cattle.

The mob was made up of people from your so-called family along with the relatives and servants of the man that was supposed to be your husband. Today was originally your wedding day, but now it was your day of liberation.

You pushed your feet to move faster through the woods, ducking and bobbing under branches and leaves. You had no idea where you were going, but anywhere is better than here.

"Come back here, you—!" You heard a voice call out, thankful that the wind had blocked whatever vulgar word had just left his mouth from your ears.

The forest was terribly dense and it was nearly sunset, surely if you went just a little further they'd give up on their pursuit, right?

The yelling grew louder, they were catching up. You had to continue forward. This was your only chance, you can't give up now!

You pushed your way through foilage with a newfound determination. You're not giving up. You ignored the stinging pain that you felt when your ankles came in contact with sharp plants and rocks.

It was going to be worth it. That's the mantra you kept repeating in your head, almost as if trying to convince yourself that this little plan of yours would all work out without a hitch.

Thats when the doubts began to pour in. What if it didn't work? What if you were caught? Your situation would've been bad before, but it would only be worse now if you returned.

You were so wrapped up in your mind that you hadn't noticed an uplifted tree root in your path and before you blink your foot got caught in it, causing you to take a tumble that turned into a roll. A scream of terror escaped your lips as you were unable to stop your body from twisting in various uncomfortable ways as you rolled down into a small ditch and hit your head on a sharp rock. You then succumbed to the darkness that followed.

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

When you finally came to, it was dark out. You could see the stars, but you didnt hear the mob anymore. That's good. You didn't have to run anymore, but at the moment you also couldn't move. As if your body was giving up on you.

Panic filled your mind as you tried to sit up, only to stubbornly remain still. What was happening? What's wrong with you?

You continued trying to move for at least fifteen minutes, maybe even more. It was obvious your body gained some sort of damage. You cursed at yourself for not watching where you were going earlier. If only you had avoided that stupid tree root.

Suddenly you heard a twig snap, the noise causing your body to stiffen despite its current immobility. It couldn't have been the mob, you would've heard them. A wild animal perhaps? You don't think that would be any better given your situation.

"My, my... what do we have here?" The voice had come out of nowhere, it was deep, almost soothing. "Poor girl, good ol' death's got you in his grip..." Did you say soothing? You meant terrifying. The morbid words did nothing to calm your already escalating fear, and as if it couldn't get any worse, you felt a cold hand grip your chin and turn you to the other side. What you saw made your heart drop.

The man kneeling down beside you was elegantly dressed, maybe even more so than your former employer. It was obvious that he had a title of some sort. From the exiquistely styled hair all the way down to the rich leather shoes. You don't think you've ever seen footwear more shiny. Although, despite the fact that he seemed normal in appearance, your gut was still telling you to be wary.

"Don't be alarmed, my child." The man spoke again as a coy smile adorned his face. He seemed to glance you over with a thoughtful expression before a hum escaped his throat. "Tell me, do you want to die?" He asked that question as if it was just a normal day. Even though you had already guessed that falling down a ditch and landing on a rock wasn't going to end well for you, you didn't think you were going to die.

You didn't want to die. What was the whole point of escaping if you were going to perish just an hour after?

You opened your mouth to respond but words refused to come out. You could feel yourself getting lightheaded as well, everything was starting to blur.

You heard the man click his tongue in a mocking-like manner, shaking his head as he watched your eyes begin to droop. "I'll take that as a no. Well, it's your lucky day!" He smirked and then did something truly abnormal. He bit his wrist, and by the looks of it— broke skin. He then moved his wrist from his face and tilted your chin up. You were barely maintaining consciousness, but alarm bells were ringing violently in your head. "Dont be alarmed... you'll feel brand new." His voice got a tad darker and before you could register any movement he pressed his wrist to your mouth. Forcing you to drink his blood.

You were repulsed. You tried to move away, but your body was still unresponsive. The metallic taste was like fire on your tongue, your tastebuds were practically crying out in agony. Like when you taste undercooked fish. The man seemed amused by your plight and at last removed his wrist from your mouth, leaving you to spit out whatever blood didn't make it down your throat.

Your hand practically clawed at your neck in desperation as you coughed uncontrollably. Not only did it taste horrible, it burned. "W..What did you— Why did you?" You struggled to formulate a sentence, the shock of what just happened still fresh in your mind. You did however notice one thing. You could move. Even if it was just your hand, your body felt significantly lighter. This night just kept getting weirder and weirder.

"Feel better, do you?" The man said in what could only be described as a placating voice. And even though his smile appeared sincere, you could tell there was an ulterior motive lingering beneath those dark brown eyes. He then traced the side of your face with his calloused hand, his fingertips trailed along the fresh cut that you gained when your head landed on that rock earlier. Your breath hitched as you felt a pang of pain shoot through you. Although somehow it seemed the injury was miraculously healing itself, it still hurt. You couldn't help but notice that the man was staring at you intently. As if analyzing you or seeing something you didn't.

"You've had a hard life haven't you, little lamb?" He finally spoke, his words were quiet and kind, genuine if you will. Almost as if to not break what little stability you had left. His eyes were filled to the brim with pity and perhaps a hint of remorse. In a way, it captivated you. Filling you with a warmth that you never got for as long as you've lived. Acknowledgement.

You felt his vacant hand grasp the other side of your face, it wasn't a rough gesture, it was more nurturing. As if a hand guiding you through the foggy darkness that was currently your life.

"The pain will vanish in a moment, and will never return." He said ominously, his voice causing your brows to furrow. "With that knowledge in mind, I do hope you can forgive me for this." The man murmured in a resignated tone as his grip on your face grew painfully tight, and before you could even begin to panic at the sudden change in the once comfortable atmosphere—

SNAP!

It all went dark.

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

When you awoke, your surroundings were no longer the dark and uneasy forest that seemed to hold secrets at every corner, but a lavish room that would only belong to the highest of nobles and clansmen.

Where were you?

You had expected your body to still be unwilling and stubborn, but you had found yourself surprised when you were able to sit up with ease. You looked across the room towards an open window, seeing the bright and frankly blinding sun. Raising one arm to clutch at your tender head you let out a groan exhaustion. You were so tired despite having just woken up, and oh so very hungry. But you couldnt pay any mind to that right now— you had to remember what happened.

You closed your eyes in thought, recollecting the events of last night. You had escaped your previous situation, but then ended up in a ditch on deaths doorstep. Then a man appeared out of nowhere— That was it! The man!

Your eyes snapped open, the previous fatigue that was once lingered was now replaced with fresh fear and hopeless confusion. You remembered it all. The talk, the blood that he made you drink, and... that he snapped your neck. The realization made your blood run cold as you finally put the remaining pieces together.

You had died.

But... You're still alive? You were still breathing, you could still hear, see, and smell. Even if it all felt so unbearably heightened. You weren't in the afterlife, you were sure of it. Had god granted you a second chance? Mercy? You hoped.

Your brows furrowed. That man must've been the one that took you here, but for what? Surely he thought you were dead right? What morbid reasons could he have for not only taking you with him, but also for housing you in such a nice bedroom? Regardless, you couldn't dwell on that at the moment. You had leave quickly before he returns and realizes that you're awake.

You flung the duvet off of you, swinging your legs to the side and standing up off the bed in urgency. You took one step into the sunlight that was beaming through the open window and out of the shadow that shielded the bed, only to feel an excruciating burning sensation hit your foot. You screamed out agony and meant to only scurry back to the bed, yet somehow instead found yourself rammed into the far shaded corner of the room in record time.

What was that? What burned you? How did you move so fast?

Those questions circled and echoed through your mind as your body curled into itself, seemingly wanting to hide in the corner from the light. You were shaking and breathing rapidly, your nails were digging into your forearms and even that felt more painful than usual. You didn't dare glance down at your foot in fear of seeing a ghastly burn marring your already rough skin. What was happening to you?

Just then, you heard the door open. The creaking of its old hinges causing your anxiety to spike. What if it was that man again? What would be his reaction to seeing you alive and moving? What was going to become of you?

You braced yourself for the appearance of the one you so quickly grew to fear, only to be surprised when a shaggy haired boy came into view instead. He didn't look much younger than you, perhaps fifteen or sixteen? He was slim in build but average enough height.

Was he with the man? He didn't look menacing at all, but you've learned throughout the years that appearances could be deceiving. Interrupting your thoughts, the boy spoke, seemingly just realizing that you were no longer in bed but cowering in the corner.

"What in world are you doing over there?" He tilted his head to the side in confusion, almost as if expecting a logical response. His voice wasn't deep, but it wasn't soft either. It had a sort of charm to it that could ease anyone of their worries. Unfortunately right now, they weren't doing anything to ease yours. The boy then noticed the open window and his eyes widened in what could only be described as horror and understanding at the same time.

He immediately rushed over in a blur of color and shut the window along with closing the curtains, huffing a sigh of relief after. He turned his head back to you, offering an apologetic smile. "Are you alright?"

You opened your mouth to answer, but no words left your throat. You were still shaking, still paralyzed. The boy's smile dropped a little, and in yet another blur of color, he was suddenly crouched in front of you. "Hey, hey! It's okay... you don't need to be scared, you're safe here." He said in a reassuring tone, his hands lifting in a pacifying gesture. However you only hid yourself in the corner further, your next words were sharp and defensive. "Who are you?"

The boy didn't flinch at your tone, his eyes only showing sympathy. As if he's been in this exact same situation before. "I'm Emil and I'm your brother." He responded, his voice going a pitch higher due to the excitement and joy the words brought. You, on the other hand, were flabbergasted. Brother? What? "I don't have a brother." You grit out. Your anxiety and suspicion only rising as the conversation went on.

At your words, Emil seemed to backtrack. "Well, biologically no." He confirmed. "But since dad turned you and brought you back home, that means he's adopted you— which means we're siblings!" He grinned, his eyes practically shining in child-like delight.

"Turned?" You echoed, terror entering your voice. What did he mean by that? What exactly did that man do? And why did you feel so hungry? Frustration was slowly filling your veins, you felt like a pot of boiling water that was about to spill over. "What do you mean by that? Is your dad the man who did this to me? Answer me!" You demanded, reaching out and grabbing Emil by his shirt in impulsive anger. You felt a tingling sensation underneath your eyes, but pushed it to the back of your mind for the time being.

Out of nowhere, a dark-skinned hand grabbed onto yours, prying your hands off of Emil. Emil fell backwards slightly, but was supported by another pair of hands that belonged to a red-haired girl that looked a little older than you. Her expression was one of pity, your situation seemed to sadden her? You didn't need her pity. You didn't want it.

A masculine voice spoke up from the entrance of the room, it came from a young man who was leaning against the doorway in a lazy manner. "Ooh... new little sis got claws." His voice was mocking, and by the smug smirk on his face you could tell that was his intention. You also couldn't help but notice the term he used. "Little sis" Does that mean he was related to Emil?

"Knock it off." Another voice said coldly. This one was more feminine and biting. You directed your eyes over to the bed to see the figure of a young woman sitting on it. One of her hands were thrown carelessly over the bed post, while the other was holding a goblet that was filled to the brim with something. Her eyes were a piercing hazel color, and her lips were formed in a firm scowl at the young man's antics.

The young man had frowned, a huff of irritation leaving his lips. "Erika. When did you get back?" His arms were now crossed, his mood turning from teasing to sulky.

You had tuned out the rest of their conversation, your mind too scrambled to register any more shocking and disturbing information. You were on the verge of breaking down, feeling as if the world had stacked dozens of blocks on your shoulders with no way to get back up again. Like the walls were closing in and you had no way out. Was it always this hard to breathe? You didn't even realize that tears had begun to form and fall until a warm hand moved to brush them away.

Suddenly it went quiet. It felt like everything had paused. You took the chance and glanced up, meeting the sight of calming dark brown eyes that seemed to speak a thousand words at once.

"You need to calm down." The owner of the eyes and the hand that was still grasping yours spoke. "You're confused, freaked out, and scared. I get it, but you won't solve anything if you don't take a deep breath." The man's words were firm yet soft as he slowly released his grip on your wrist. Everyone else seemed to wait for you to follow his directions which made a slight chill go down your spine. Nevertheless, you took several deep breaths and then exhaled multiple times in order to recompose yourself. You reopened your eyes. You had so many questions, but before you could ask any you were met with the girl that you remembered was called Erika squatting in front of you. She was holding the same goblet that you saw before, but this time she was holding it out to you.

"Drink." She stated sternly, although her eyes held a hint concern that was carefully guarded. You nervously peered down in the glass, taking in the deep red liquid that was being presented to you. "What is it...?" You dared to ask, your voice was below a whisper.

"Blood." She replied in a straightforward fashion, however her words made you lurch back. More blood? What is it with people and trying to make you consume blood? "Erika!" The red-headed girl called out, reprimanded the former who simply shrugged. "What she means is, you have to drink it to quell the hunger your feeling." The red-head explained in a kind tone.

Thats right. The hunger. You had forgotten about it for a minute, but now that it was mentioned once again, that cup of blood was starting to look appetizing...

Wait— no! What are you even thinking?! You can't drink blood. Not only is that disgusting, but also morally wrong.

"It gets better after the third sip, trust me." Emil remarked after being silent for so long. His voice causing you to snap your head towards him, your shoulders slumping in relief when seeing he was okay. You did feel guilty for snapping and grabbing him the way you did.

"Drink, and I'll explain everything to you." The dark-skinned man added, giving you a trusting gaze. You did want to know everything. But was drinking this really worth it...? You looked back to the goblet before glancing around at the several pairs of eyes that were waiting on you to take a sip. Was this peer pressure? It sure felt like it.

Your eyes returned to the glass, contemplating for a few minutes before you grabbed it and impulsively tipped your head back to drink.

And it felt good. Unlike before when you were repulsed at the taste, now it felt like nirvana on your tongue. You should feel disgusted with yourself, guilty even. Knowing that this blood had to have come from somewhere. But at the moment? You couldn't bring yourself to care.

Though, you still needed to breathe. So, reluctantly, you separated your lips from the glass, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You felt so much better than you did before. It was euphoric almost.

"Feel better?" Emil asked with a cheeky smile, already knowing what your answer would be. You nodded in response, unable to form a coherent sentence.

"My name is Conrad." The man that promised to explain everything to you revealed, gesturing to himself. "That's Erika." He pointed to the dark skinned and hazel-eyed girl who gave you a small smile. "That waste of space over there is Cassian." He playfully yet sharply regarded the young man that had mocked you earlier. Cassian bowed his head with a stupid grin that almost made you smile.

"The red-head's Gregoria." He directed over to the fair-skinned woman who smiled brightly in your direction. Her presence and impression, though smaller when compared to the others, eased you a bit. "And you've already met Emil." Conrad declared, a tired sigh following his lips after. "Who we told to wait."

Emil didn't look guilty in the slightest as he shrugged. "I was excited." He responded with a small laugh.

Conrad directed his attention back to you. "And that man that you met in the woods? That's our father. Count Vlad Stoker." Unlike before, he said these words carefully, not knowing how you'd react. You wanted to say something, ask so many things, but you forced yourself to remain quiet and allow him to explain.

He took a deep breath and continued. "You were... dying, and father must've seen that you were worth saving, so.. he turned you." He was cleverly trying to avoid a specific word, even with his attempts to hide it, you saw. "Turned me into what?" You asked, your voice laced with caution. You gazed around at everybody in the room who seemed to internally wince at what was coming next.

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

They had proceeded to explain to you that even though you were still breathing, you were no longer "alive". You were dead. The information horrified you. You had misunderstood the situation from the very start. The man— Vlad, had brought you back here because he saved your life in a way. Sure, you weren't living by normal terms, but you were still in some way alive.

Conrad and the others explained that you were like them now— a creature of the night who had to feed on blood to survive, that could never freely walk during the day without something called a daylight ring, and had to avoid any point shaped wood at all costs.

At the time, you didn't fully grasp that your life was never going to be the same. You were no longer human. You would live forever, but at least you weren't alone. You at first thought it was going to be like your previous home, where you had to practically be a servant to their every whim. But instead, they treated you like family, because to them you were.

Conrad had taught you how to control your urges so you wouldn't go on a rampage in the night. It was difficult for you at first, not only having to learn to control them, but also battling with your loss of morals. But your older brother was patient with you. He even shared some of his own stories.

••••••••••••••••••

"You've been like this for over 200 years?" You echoed in amazement, watching as Conrad chuckled in amusement at the expression on your face. "Around that long, yes." He replied before his eyes softened. "I was... distraught when I found out, and I didn't have anyone but father to help me through the transition." His voice had grown quiet as a faraway look appeared in his eyes. "I can't say that it gets easier as time flies by, but... it is bearable when you're not alone."

He offered you a genuine smile, and bumped your shoulder with his. "And you're not alone."

••••••••••••••••••

Those words stuck with you, because truth be told, it was bearable. Everybody made you feel at home, there was a warmth there that you've never felt before. They also lived in a castle. That's right, a castle. Over the years, you became more integrated in this dysfunctional family.

Vlad truly did feel like a father, an unconventional one, but still a good one.

Conrad was definitely the most responsible of the bunch. He broke up fights that tended to happen mainly between Erika and Cassian and kept the peace between all of you.

Erika was off-putting at first. She had a stare that you swore could freeze anything and anyone, but as you got to know her she became more sweet and sisterly. She took you hunts with her occasionally with the excuse of: "You're less irritating than the others." For some reason you didn't buy it, but you let her believe you did.

Cassian... was complicated. You thought that the mocking and teasing would stop eventually, but it never did. He never really took it too far, but he still annoyed you. However, he was always the first notice if you were feeling off or down. Everyone had those days, even him. So when they happened, he'd take you out to the village that was nearest to the castle for a day. You could browse, purchase, or eat whatever you wished. It was on his dime after all. He'd always say: "Our home is already bleaky, I can't have you moping about the corridors like some ghost." You would glare at him each and every time, but in the end you would eventually burst out in laughter.

Gregoria was not only a older sister, she was also your teacher for the more normal aspects about your new life. Like making sure you were educated. She was positively apalled that at your age you barely knew how to read, she didn't judge, but certainly wasted no time in assisting you. She taught you the basics of math, literature, even science! She even taught you how to play chess after you had mostly everything down. She won every time, but it was still fun.

Lastly, Emil. It was always strange to you that despite the fact that Emil was only around a dozen years older than you in undead age, in physical age he was younger. And he made sure to act like it around you. You wouldn't say he's childish, but he's leaned on you a lot over the decades. Sometimes about ridiculous stuff and other times about personal things from his past that still ate him alive inside. For example, like how you reminded him of his dead older sister that sacrificed herself to save him when he was still human. Save him from what exactly? You didn't dare to ask because he was already sobbing in your neck during the tale. Needless to say, you let him cling to you and somehow became protective over him despite the odds.

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

Over the centuries, you got the hang of your new life. You were practically a natural at it by now. It was weird seeing time move by and unaffected by it, the knowledge that the people that had such a presence in your previous life were long gone by now haunted you yet it also freed you.

As the 17th century rolled in, what you and your family were gained a name: Vampires.

You had no idea who came up with it, all you knew is that your kind had become a sort of legend around the world. It made Vlad grow weary. While he knew that you all weren't the only vampires in existence, he knew that this could bring trouble to your front door. His main priority was to keep you all safe. So, he made a rule that none of you could venture past the woods that surrounded the castle. For the time being you'd all survive off of blood reserves that he stored. It was for your own safety, you knew that, but that didn't mean anyone liked it.

Conrad and Gregoria had accepted it, they rarely went against the older vampire. Erika was the most outspoken about her dislike, saying that because of the actions of the idiots that went and got themselves exposed you'd have to hide even more now. That it wasnt fair. Cassian was neutral about it surprisingly, he only ever went out to town with you or with whatever random woman he managed to charm. He didn't mind being confined in the castle, he could bug the others if he got bored. Emil wasn't bothered it by it. He only ever left the castle to hunt or study the wildlife in the woods. You were stuck in between on it. You loved going to the village, not for the people, absolutely not. But just being there made you feel happy for some reason, and even though you understood the risks, you couldn't help but feel down at the news.

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

𝑻𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒚𝒍𝒗𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒂 – 1772

Now, with all the war that had been going on out in the world recently, and the restriction of none of you leaving the castle premises, you'd think Vlad would also stay put and out of sight. You were proven wrong when he told you all that he had leave on a "business" trip. This wasn't any news to you. He'd always leave once in a while on these trips and never disclosed just where he was going. He was always so secretive when it came to what he does whenever he would leave the castle. It rubbed some of you the wrong way, and by "some", you mean mainly Erika.

None of you stopped him though.

Over the eight years he's been gone, he's sent letters and small gifts for each of you. Unfortunately the absence of his presence was still felt. Especially when people in the village were starting to snoop around the castle. They were starting to get suspicious, and that brought worry amongst you. What if they found out? When Conrad wrote to Vlad about it, the man had written back saying things along the line of: "Cut off more pathways so they can't get any closer." Or "Compell people that there's wild and dangerous beasts in the surrounding woods." It had worked for awhile, but the townsfolk were getting harder to fool. In his letters he'd promised to make it up to you all.

None of you had expected that when he'd return, he'd return with another sibling to add to the bunch.

••••••••••••••••••

𝑻𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒚𝒍𝒗𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒂 – 1780

Everyone was quiet, the room was dangerously still, but that was to be expected after the last words Vlad had spoken just after he'd at last returned.

"This is your new sister, Catalina."

You were the lastest addition to family, and frankly everyone thought you'd be the last. Only for Vlad to return with a young girl that looked like Emil's physical age. The same thing was running through everyone's minds: All that talk about "laying low" and he went and turned another person.

The girl was looking at you all shyly through the curtains of her blonde hair, she was bouncing on her heels, she seemed so out of place.

"So much for laying low, huh?" Erika spoke, saying what was pretty much on all of your minds. Gregoria gently elbowed her in a quiet reminder to be nice and not crabby right now.

Conrad interjected before she could form a rebuttal. "That's no way to welcome our new sister, Erika." He stated in a soft yet reprimanding tone. He turned back towards Catalina offering her a small smile, although you could tell it was more strained than his usual ones. "We'll help you come to terms with being... something like us." He hesitated, but could you blame him? How do you easily put what you all were into words? How do simplify something so complicated?

After a few moments of letting Conrad's words wash over the room, Emil wasted no time in approaching Catalina with a bright and bold smile, similar to the one he wore when he first met you.

"Come on, I'm sure at least one of these extra dozen rooms will be to your liking." The boy said with a playful yet cheeky grin, offering his arm to the girl in a gentlemanly manner. She smiled at him in response, you could practically see the weight lifting from her shoulders as she took his arm in hers. "I'll assist." Gregoria offered with a welcoming and fond gaze. Emil then proceeded to lead both of them away and out of the room, leaving the rest of you to contend with the more pressing matter at hand.

Vlad cleared his throat, his brown-eyed gaze roaming each of you in deep thought. "How dire is the situation?" He questioned as he firmly crossed his hands behind his back. It was needless to say that despite his less than helpful tone in his letters, the fact that the humans were getting closer to finding out the truth to the sanctuary that he had spent centuries building bothered him immensely.

"They keep growing in numbers. We cannot simply corner one and compel them into thinking whatever we want them to anymore." Cassian muttered through gritted teeth as his fingers tapped against the surface of the couch that he was lounging in. As one of the older ones of the bunch, he'd seen those nosy humans first hand. If they're curiosity didn't get them killed in the woods, he would happily help with the extermination process of those pests. Yet, he couldn't. When Vlad went on his little excursion, Conrad had placed a strict "No Killing Humans." policy. It would only draw more attention if they started dropping dead like flies.

Vlad's gaze darkened, his jaw clenching in irritation at the news. He hated how just because they noticed he was gone, the townsfolk took it upon themselves to try and investigate his private property. He began to pace back in forth with a huff. He found himself internally grateful that his children weren't fools. What would've happened if one of those aggravating blood bags found a way past the forest and into the castle? He didn't even want to think about it. "Are there any remaining pathways still open?"

"Just a few." You answered in a measured tone while leaned against the arm of the sofa that Cassian laid in. "Some remain in order to avoid them from cutting down any trees to make new ones."

"We must block them all off, we have to isolate the castle." The aged man announced firmly, causing you all to freeze. You all agreed that you had to do something, but isolation? Was that really the right move here?

"Is that not a bit drastic? Would that not increase the already troublesome curiosity that is brewing amongst them?" Conrad inquired, trying to keep his voice leveled but failing to catch the skeptism that slipped out. "You do understand that they will eventually realize that the paths they're accustomed to taking are being cut off, right?" Erika spoke with incredulity lacing her words. Why did they have to hide? There were eight of you and only a mere handful of them in Erika's eyes. You could take them. This was your home too.

Vlad's pacing came to a stop as he turned towards you all, a heavy sigh leaving his lips. "It will only be temporary, just to discourage most of them from exploring further." He explained calmly. "That way if they are a few stragglers we can handle them with ease." He let his gaze sweep over each of you once more. "This will not be forever my children, we must simply play the long game." He declared with stern finality and determination. He would keep you all safe, no matter what.

••••••••••••••••••

In a way, it did work. The number of humans that were poking and prodding around in woods to find a way to the castle had dwindled over the next sixty years.

Vlad's plan had worked to an extent, but of course there were still a few humans who were persistent now and then. He was convinced that you all had to remain in hiding just a little longer. At least that's what he said every time any one of you asked about it.

"Just a little longer."

It began to irk all of you slowly, some more than others. However, Vlad knew best. That's what you wanted to believe anyway.

Despite the underlying tension that was present, you all went back to being a loving dysfunctional family with a new addition.

Oh, how you wished things would've stayed that way.

Oh, how you wished that night never happened.

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

𝑻𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒚𝒍𝒗𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒂 – 1840

None of you ever saw it coming. That warm autumn's night that was originally supposed to spent playing games and bonding as a family that got interrupted when Cassian barged in, flushed and out of breath, claiming to see a light in the woods.

'Just one singular light?' You all thought after moving to one of the balconies to get a closer look. "The quiet before the storm." Would be the best way to describe it. For one light turned to two, than two lights turned to four, than four turned to six, and it just kept multiplying from there.

A horde of torches that were held by a mob of angry humans— the townsfolk, that sought to burn down your home, to kill you.

There was no way to divert them, there were too many of them to even attempt compulsion, and what killing them do? There were far too many.

So Vlad was forced to speak the grim words that he wished he never had to say.

"Pack what you can and prepare to flee."

••••••••••••••••••

You could hear yelling coming from all around you as you ran through the corridors of the home you had grown so attached to. A sack that had been tied to some rope rested over your shoulders, it held everything that you deemed important, everything that you would need to survive. You were trying to desperately find the others, hoping and praying that they were okay.

You could smell smoke, and where there's smoke, there's fire. They were trying to burn your home down with you in it. You scampered down a flight of servant stairs, figuring that it was safer instead of taking any of the main staircases. You were coughing and it was getting hard to see as you reached a lower level.

'Where is everybody?' You thought to yourself in worry, only for you to collide into someone's shoulder. You immediately panicked, what if it was somebody from the town? Backing up quickly, you were relieved to see it was just Cassian, and behind him was Gregoria and Emil.

"Oh, thank god, you're all right." You breathed out as your shoulders sagged. Cassian pressed a cut piece of cloth to your mouth and motioned for you to hold it, which you did. You could see the relief morph onto his face before he glanced around behind you. "Where's Conrad, Erika and Catalina?" He asked, his voice rising in alarm.

"I don't know, you're the only ones I've run into." You responded in between coughs, resulting in Gregoria softly patting your back. "They must be further down." Emil interrupted, his voice determined from behind the cloth that he held to his face. He rushed off ahead, causing Cassian to yell out. "Emil, wait!" He then ran after him, leaving you and Gregoria to follow behind.

You all sprinted through the castle searching for the others. After you turned into a vampire all those centuries ago there weren't many times where you were scared, but now? You were terrified.

"There they are!" You heard a voice call from up ahead, and were thankful to see it was Vlad and the rest of your siblings. You came to a stop, sighing in pure unconditional relief at seeing them okay. Catalina ran to meet you halfway, crushing you in a hug to which you returned. "Are you all okay?" Erika asked, her voice raw and hoarse with fearful concern. Gregoria nodded, pulling her into a hug while Conrad checked in on Emil and Cassian. Vlad seemed to glance over each and every one of you, silently making sure that there wasn't a single scratch.

You all were reunited. A moment of happiness and peace admist the chaos.

Sadly, that moment of tranquility was broken by a combination of cruel voices from not too far away.

"Search the place and set it ablaze! Those demon spawns shall not be permitted to escape!"

The voice was harsh and unfeeling, and made made all of your bloods run cold. How would you get out of this?

"Quickly, this way." Vlad said, leading you all down a hallway and into a room that wasn't heavily furnished yet was filled to the brim with empty book cases. You gazed around in weary confusion. You've never seen this room before, and you thought you had explored this castle from top to bottom.

"What is this place?" Catalina wondered aloud, slowly spinning around to take it all in. Everyone else seemed to have similar reactions except Conrad, who's expression was more resigned than anything. "A last resort." Vlad stated ominously and motioned to Conrad to help him as he placed his hands on a specific bookcase in the far left side of the room.

They both grabbed onto the edges, seemingly lifting the piece of furniture up and pulling it forward. You all heard it make a small clicking noise before the bookcase was being opened like it was a regular old door. Your jaw dropped when you realized that what was in front of you was a damp and dimly lit passageway. Since when has that been here?

"...That's certainly a new development." Gregoria spoke out, her face showing the same level of bewilderment as the rest of you. "I don't recall this being here before...?" Emil mumbled, taking a step closer to observe the tunnel.

"It's always been here, it's an escape route from the castle for times like this... I just never thought we'd have to use it." Vlad muttered with a grunt, a distant look growing in his eyes as if recalling a past memory.

"You knew about this? And didn't think tell us? To tell me?" Erika directed towards Conrad, a hint of betrayal lingering in her eyes as the older boy averted his gaze to the floor in shame. Just then, you heard a crash come from somewhere outside in the hallways. The sound caused you all to stiffen, remaining frighteningly still for a moment. "Great. Now they're breaking stuff?" Cassian whispered in agitation before another crash rang out.

The progressive destruction of his home seemed to make Vlad move with more urgency, ushering you all towards the passageway. "This tunnel will lead you out of the castle and into a secluded part of the woods, after you are out, you must leave Transylvania." He explained, before taking off the satchel that he was wearing and hanging it around Conrad's neck. "In this bag you'll find multiple deeds to properties across the globe in your names, along with enough money so that you'll never have to work a day in your lives." The man proclaimed, guiding you one by one into the tunnel.

"That's what you were doing whenever you would leave, isn't it? Gaining land." You realized, turning back towards him with understanding fresh on your face. The others paused, turning back as well in shock. Vlad sighed when he saw all of your eyes on him and nodded in response to your words. "Yes, yes I did. I knew Transylvania wouldn't forever be safe for you, for us." He looked like he wanted to say more, but another crash was heard and the smoke was now beginning to invade the room. "I will hold them off, but you must go now."

Thats when dread filled your stomach. "I'll hold them off." Surely he's not about to do what you think he is right?

"Vlad—" You began, fear and uncertainty are clear in your voice, but Cassian beat you to the question. "You're not coming with us...?" His face dropped even more than it had before, and his sentence caused the rest of your siblings to look at Vlad with heartbreak present in their eyes.

The older vampire inhaled deeply, knowing that there was no avoiding this any longer. "If I stay and keep them occupied, it'll give you enough time to escape." He said in a low voice, his eyes were stern but you could see the hint of sorrow in them. "No, no way, we are not leaving you!" Erika yelled, her tone was harsh but it was also filled with trepidation. Her and Vlad have had many disagreements over the centuries, but that didn't mean she didn't care for him.

"We can escape together, all of us." Emil uttered out shakily, unable to believe what was happening. He could still remember the day he was turned, how Vlad and the others were there for him... how could he expect them to just leave him behind? You heard the infuriated yells of the townsfolk getting closer, silently wishing that this was all a horrible nightmare that you could all wake up from. "Vlad, come on!" You urged, tempted to reach out to the man and just drag him along down the tunnel.

"There's no time!" He snapped and shoved you further down into the tunnel, causing Gregoria to steady you as the horror on her face grew. "I will find you, you have my word." He promised, his eyes softening at the sight of all of you. How much you've all grown since the beginning. He shook his head, snapping out of it. "Go!" He yelled and then slammed the bookcase shut, leaving you all in the dark tunnel with barely enough time to grapple what had just happened.

You heard Catalina choke back a sob as tears slowly filled your eyes. Had that really just happened? Had you just lost your father? This couldn't possibly get any worse, can it...?

"...We have to go..." Conrad whispered, his own weak voice barely making it to you above all the noise that filled your mind at the moment. You didn't even register Gregoria tugging you along down the passageway when your feet refused to move on their own.

••••••••••••••••••

The next twenty minutes or so were spent in solemn silence as you all traveled through the tunnel towards your freedom. What were you going to do now? You left him there... Vlad was powerful, but that was a lot of humans even for him. The thought of something happeneing to him sent a pang of guilt and uncertainty straight to your stomach. 'You should've went back for him.' You mentally scolded yourself before letting your gaze set firmly onto the ground. But what could you have done? Would you be of any help or just a burden for him to look out for?

You glanced up as the opening to the woods came into view, not sure whether to feel relieved or uneasy as the cool night air hit your face. The smell of smoke was still lodged in your nose but the familiar scent of pine was a welcomed change. Everyone was silent as you took a breather against the trees and rocks that offered respite to your current weary souls, the weight of what had just transpired hung over you all like a dark cloud. You noticed that Conrad had opened the satchel and began inspecting the deeds and money that Vlad had left you. His eyes were narrowed in focus and maybe in a bit of frustration as well.

"Spain, the Caribbean, the Netherlands, Bulgaria, Austria, France, England, even America... all these places have plots of land under the name, Stoker." He spoke in quiet awe, his eyes widened as he reads more and more. "We could go anywhere we want..."

Erika let out a scoff, rolling her eyes as she slouched even more against the tree nearest to him. "Yeah, that would fine and dandy if we weren't just run out of our home, but of course you and Vlad were prepared for that, right?" Her words were brutally sarcastic but her voice cracked. You heard Gregoria sigh in weak annoyance, "Erika..." She warned.

"No! Let's talk about it— because I know you all are wondering the same thing." She cut the red-head off and marched closer towards Conrad, her fists clenched in unrestrained fury. "You knew about a secret escape tunnel and didn't think to tell us?" She questioned, staring the older boy straight in the eye.

The look of shame had returned to Conrad's face, but this time he did not avert his gaze from the angry one that belonged to his sister. "We didn't want to make any of you panic—" He tried, only to be unabashedly interrupted. "We? Oh, so you're keeping secrets now too? Never knew you were such a daddy's boy— Oh wait, yes I did." The girl retorted harshly, her words causing Conrad and the rest of you to bristle. "Watch it, Erika." He replied, his tone growing cold. "Oh, I'm so scared. I'm just as strong as you, maybe even more." She laughed crudely and took a step into his personal space. "So please, try me."

In your lifetime, you've seen Erika and Conrad have their fair share of disagreements. Some were over stupid stuff, like who ate the last blueberry muffin, others were more serious, like now, but they've never gotten physical. And at the moment, that's where this one looked like it was heading. Thats when Emil stood up from his seat on a rock, "Woah, come on guys, we're all tense, lets not say or do anything we'll regret." He said worriedly, about to walk up to them when—

"Erika, watch out!"

••••••••••••••

There was so much happening around you, it was all going by so quickly, but for you... it was moving so slow.

Charging out from the trees was a human, one of the townsfolk, and the deranged yet determined man wasn't holding a torch... no, he was holding a stake. You had no idea how he got past your hearing, maybe it was because you were so distracted and overwhelmed with everything that's happened... but this made it all so, so much worse.

He was a man on a mission, one that he was definitely seeing through as he swung out his arm, aiming the stake straight at Erika's heart.

The world seemed to pause, almost as if in as much shock as you all were. Your ears were ringing incessantly, your jaw dropping as your eyes widened in raw pain and horror.

You heard Catalina let out a blood curdling scream.

You saw Emil's knees buckle, his legs failing to hold him up as the weight of grief practically shoved him down.

Gregoria was still, petrified even, her eyes were filled with heartbreak and fury, but you didn't know which was consuming her more at the moment.

You had helplessly watched as Conrad forcefully shoved Erika out of the way and took the stake right to his heart. You watched as the older boy who had helped you from the very start, the one who had taught you how to control yourself, and how to be responsible for your own actions, your older brother, fall to the forest floor as his skin turned a pale and lifeless gray.

Before you could even blink, you witnessed Cassian moving at the speed of light— perhaps the fastest you've ever seen him go, and snap the man's neck. His eyes were dark and vengeful, but nothing could hide the irrefutable anguish that was also present.

Erika looked absolutely distraught and disgruntled. Wasn't it only a few seconds ago that Conrad was still standing in front of her, alive, and arguing with her?

That's when the world started moving at normal speed again.

"Conrad...!" You cried out in agony, your voice breaking as if your vocal cords were made out of glass. You frantically darted over to him, dropping to your knees and reaching down to shake his shoulders anxiously. You had never seen a death of a vampire, you obviously knew it was possible, but you've never thought that you'd have to see it, you never thought that it would be your brother in such a position. The others followed your lead swiftly after, coming to either stand or kneel beside you.

Gregoria had her hand clasped tightly over her mouth, hot tears were streaming down her face while Catalina sobbed into her shoulder. Emil was right there with you, naively hoping that his brother's eyes would regain light, that those familiar bright brown eyes would comfort him like they've always done, but now they were glossed over and dull. Erika couldn't bring herself to cry, her body was still in too much shock. Her previous clenched fists were now hanging limp at her sides, she didn't know whether to yell or break down.

Cassian was desperately trying to hold it in, his bottom lip trembling as he tried not to collapse in a sobbing and shaking mess. His nails dug so hard into his palms that they were on the verge of breaking skin. What was he to do when the man that he thought was invincible for centuries, was now laying dead right before his eyes? And it was all his fault.

In an act of desperation you went to bite into your wrist. You could save him right? Just like how Vlad had saved you back then. Right?

Your action was stopped by Cassian's bruised hand, his fingers wrapped tightly around your wrist as he kneeled down from his standing position, and firmly tugged your hand away. In spite of that, you tried to pull your back, but it was of no use. "Let me try—!" You begged through your tears only to be gently shushed by the brunette and brought into his arms.

"He's gone, [Name]. He's gone."

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

That night, you mourned the loss of the two people that helped you the most when you were at your lowest.

That night changed your family's life forever.

That night changed your life forever.

After that night, you only dared to return to the now ruined castle after you were positive that the mob had dispersed. You had intended to bury Vlad with Conrad before leaving Transylvania for good, but there was one problem: none of you could find his body. At first, you thought that maybe it burned or that the townsfolk took it, but soon found out that wasn't the case.

For on his desk in his study were two words that had been deeply engraved into the mahogany wood.

"Find me."

The hope in the possibility that your father was still alive became the new glue that kept the rest of you together. You searched for decades, centuries, but every clue and every lead eventually led to an unfortunate dead end. One by one the others deemed the search futile, your little family dwindled until it was only you and Emil that remained, still foolishly optimistic.

The others went on and explored what else they could do with their lives, and at the beginning, maintaining correspondence held no issue, but as time went on, and as the world evolved, communication grew less and less, until it came to a complete and total stop.

Maybe the two of you were foolish, but you and Emil promised to never abandon each other or your shared goal.

And one day in the far future, it finally paid off.

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

𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐰𝐢𝐜𝐡, 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐮𝐭 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 — 2009

"Don't you ever get tired of that thing?" You called out to Emil with a teasing tone from in the kitchen as you washed grapes in a bowl for an afternoon pre-dinner snack.

He let out a playful scoff in response, not once taking his eyes off of his Nintendo DSI. "I just got it, give me a break!" He retorted, the grin on his boyish face only growing as he won the game. You watched him cheer in victory with a fond sigh and a shake of your head. He really did keep you sane sometimes. You took the bowl out of the sink, plucking one grape off the stem and popping it into your mouth with a hum. It was a relaxing Sunday. No school, no stress, no distractions—

RING-RING!!

It seems you spoke too soon.

You stepped away from the sink and walked towards the kitchen island where the red house phone sat, an unknown number was displaying across the screen. You narrowed your [eye-color] eyes in suspicion. It couldn't be any of your or Emil's friends. It definitely wasn't the school. Maybe it was one of your siblings? No, that was a naive thought. Seeing no other choice, you picked up the phone and pressed the answer button, speaking with a casual yet guarded voice. "Hello?"

All you heard on the other side was somebody's breathing hitch. You waited for a moment before a tinge of frustration began to fill your veins. Was this a prank call? Were you seriously being prank called?

Just as you were about to hang up and block the number, a female voice finally spoke. "Miss [Name]?" That caused you to freeze and your lips to form into a frown. She knew your name. This stranger knew your name.

"Who are you and how did you get this number?" You replied, taking on a stern and serious tone as you straightened up. "You may not remember me, but my name is Sylvia Manchester." You paused. Manchester... why did that name sound so familiar? "You used to call me Sunny when I was child." Sunny. Sunny. There it was, now it was making a little more sense. Sylvia was the granddaughter of one of the many caretakers that were descendants of the people your father had entrusted with the multiple estates that were under your family's name all those centuries ago. "Little Sunny." Your voice softened as the nostalgic words were spoken. "To what do I owe the pleasure after all these years?" The question was valid, you thought. You hadn't talked to this woman since she was a third-grader, and that was three decades ago. Why call now?

"I've..." You heard the hesitation in her voice, it was faint, but still there. "I've come across some information, that I think you'll want to know about."

With those words spoken and your interest piqued, a thirty-five minute conversation ensued, and by the end of it? You were grinning like you were the cheshire cat.

Emil had walked into the kitchen soon after you hung up the phone, staring at you in confusion and weary at seeing your smirk. "What's up?"

"Pack your bags." You say, turning your head towards him as you leaned back against the cool marble counter.

"We're going back to Mystic Falls."

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

[sakur4ii]

Written in the Stars Book Two- Written in Fate Masterlist

Chapter 1-

Chapter 2-

[sakur4ii]

Klaus Mikaelson X Soulmate!Reader x Elijah Mikaelson Ch. 31

Word Count- 6.2k

Warnings- literally so much. Swearing, death, blood, lots of symptoms of depression, derealization, abusive parents, gore? Just beware

Y/n Y/l/n Age: 12

The sound of the front door slamming shut wakes me from my sleep. I sit up in my twin-size bed with a soft sigh and look out the window next to me. The moonlight flows throughout the room, signaling that it’s quite late into the night. A loud thump comes from outside my door, and I jolt out of bed quickly and walk up to my door to lean my ear against it. The house is quiet for a moment until the sound of glass breaking cuts that silence. I open my door slightly and I flinch back, scared for a moment when a pair of eyes catch mine, but I relax when I see my little brother, Theo. Theo, who just turned ten last month, is about a half-inch shorter than I, he’s wearing his Land Before Time PJs, and is clutching his toy dinosaur in his arms. 

“There’s a monster, Y/n,” Theo’s shaking voice makes me frown, and I quickly pull him into my room. 

Theo clutches my arm as I lead him to my bed and put him under my covers, “I’m sure Mom and Dad will get rid of it, Theo.”

Theo sniffles, and I notice the small tears flowing down his cheeks, “You can stay in my bed until the monster goes away, ok?”

Theo grabs my blanket and puts it under his chin, “Okay, will you stay with me?”

I begin to agree, but the sound of my mother yelling stops me. Theo quickly tightens his grip on my hand and looks up at me with fear in his eyes.

“The monster got mommy!”

I look at my little brother and then at my closed door.

“I’m going to go make sure mommy’s ok.”

I try to get my hand away from Theo’s grasp, but he holds on tighter, “Don’t go! The monster will get you too!”

I give my brother a small smile and press a kiss to his head, “There’s no such thing as monsters, Theo.”

Y/n Y/l/n Age- 18

“Elena’s in the hospital.”

“Y/n?”

“How long has she been like this?”

“Too long.”

“I can still hear you two,” I mutter, not taking my eyes off my ceiling.

“Well, at least she’s not completely catatonic,” Alastair’s accent grates against my ears. 

“I’m not catatonic, I just want to be alone.”

There’s a silence for a moment, and I almost think my wish has been answered until my view of the ceiling is blocked by Theo looking down over me.

“Ya…not happening.”

I can’t even find the strength to roll my eyes as Theo puts his hands under my arms and forces me to sit up. 

I look to see Alastair standing at the end of my bed, looking slightly worse for wear, and Theo stands at my side. Both of them have their eyes stuck on me, and it’s been this way for the past few hours. Or at least Theo’s been watching over me for these past few hours, and Alastair just got here. Before he was here, he was probably off dealing with the fact that his sire is currently all veiny and out of commission, and that a history teacher turned vampire hunter vampire is currently trying to kill him and all vampires of his sire line. 

“Why’s Elena in the hospital?”

My voice sounds almost foreign to me. It lacks any emotion, and as I give it a thought, I realize I don’t think I even feel anything right now. I know I should probably be crying or throwing things and having a breakdown at the realization that I won’t see Klaus again, or the fact that my so-called friends went behind my back and desiccated him, but… I don’t really feel anything. It’s as if I’m just…here. Just going through the motions. Ever since Elena told me that Bonnie performed a spell to desicate Klaus, I’ve just felt…numb. Not sad, not angry, not tired, just numb. As the hours passed since Elena was taken home by the Salvatores, and Elijah drove me back to my house to a freaked-out Theo, I’ve continued to feel this way. When I got home, Elijah handed me off to Theo and told him that he’d be back; he just had to deal with some things. It’s been hours since then, and we’ve heard nothing from him. Not that I’ve cared enough to check my phone, but Theo has not been quiet these past hours talking to himself out loud about stupid vampires, and stupid Mystic Falls, and how one of these days he’s just going to pack our bags and move us to Vegas. 

Theo’s been quite attentive since I got home, bringing me food, food that I haven’t touched since even the idea of eating seems too much of a task right now, he’s constantly trying make me laugh or even just communicate with him, and a part of me knows that I shouldn’t shut out my younger brother but…honestly who fucking cares at this point? 

“She passed out. Jeremy just called and said he’s waiting for the doctors to talk to him.”

My eyes fixate on the small ballerina jewelry box my father gave to me when I was six, which is currently sitting on my desk, “Elena passed out? What’s new?”

I hear Alastair huff, and then I feel Theo sit down next to me, “Do you want to go see her?”

My gaze shifts from the ballerina to my brother, “Why would I want to do that?”

Theo’s eyebrows furrow, and his eyes search my face for something. And after a moment, he sighs, “She’s your best friend.”

“A best friend that desiccated her soulmate,” Alastair chimes up, and Theo whips around to glare at him.

“One, not helping, two, she wasn’t even a part of the plan to desiccate Klaus, and three, why the hell are you even here?”

Alastair unbuttons his jacket and then sits on the end of my bed, “The same reason you are.”

“I’m here because I’m her brother. Last time I checked, you’re just some annoying vampire who broke my sister's trust.”

Both of them continue arguing, but my eyes turn back towards the ballerina. Her y/h/c flows down her back as the light purple ballet dress she’s wearing contrasts against her y/s/c skin. My father had gotten it for me because he said when he saw it in the store, all he saw was his little girl.

Y/n Y/l/n Age- 6

I watch as the only other child in the school waiting area is picked up by her mother. I fidget with my ripped leggings as I watch their car pull away, and the on-duty teacher walks over to me with a scowl on her face.

“Your parents should’ve been here an hour ago, pickup was at 3, it’s 4:25 already.” 

Her scowl only worsens my mood, and I feel my lip quiver slightly at her raised voice. It’s not like I know where mommy and daddy are.

“Oh, finally, that better be one of them,” I hear her mutter.

I look up and see my father’s rusted blue pickup pull into the parking lot. After a moment, I see him hop out of his truck and over to us. He’s got a bashful smile on his face and raises his hands in surrender as he reaches us. 

“I know I’m sorry, I got held up at work and my wife is busy with our sick son,” My father gives the woman a smile, and after a moment, she just huffs.

“Well, next time be here at 3, I’m a teacher, not a babysitter.”

The woman walks away, and my father turns to me with a smirk, “She needs a day off.”

I smile back at him, and he leans down to grab my backpack. He pauses when he notices the scrapes on my knees, where my leggings are now ripped. 

“What happened there, Princess?”

I look away from him.

“Y/n?”

My father lightly grabs my chin to face him, he’s currently kneeling before me. My dad looks like a prince. He’s super handsome, and he looks like the princes in all my fairy tale books. One day, I’m going to marry a prince like him. 

“It’s nothing…just some kids on the playground today were being mean,” I say quietly with a shrug. 

My dad instantly stands up, “And why didn’t I get a call from the school?”

“I didn’t tell anyone…”

My dad instantly grabs my arm and pulls me up, and starts dragging me towards where the teacher just went.

“Daddy, please don’t tell her! Please!”

My dad stops, he notices his grip on my arm and releases his hand, and rubs over the area softly, “If you don’t speak up for yourself, they’re just going to keep hurting you, Princess.”

I nod and look away from him, embarrassed. 

My father is silent for a moment before he sighs and picks me up. 

“If something like this happens again, you tell me. And I’ll protect you.”

I nod and wrap an arm around my father’s neck as he carries me to his truck. 

“I got you something,” His tone is no longer harsh but instead filled with excitement. This isn’t something that is unusual with my daddy. Sometimes he can be really sad and won’t talk to me or my mommy or my baby brother for days, but then right after he’s completely happy again, and he’s buying mommy flowers and taking me for ice cream, or sometimes he’ll play music in the house and dance with us for hours until our feet hurt. I like happy daddy. I wish he would stay happy. 

“What is it?”

My dad beams a smile at me and opens the truck door, and sits me in the seat. He reaches behind me and pulls out a little box with a ballerina on it. 

“Wowwww, it’s so pretty!”

Excitement fills me as I look at the pretty ballerina.

“Do you wanna know why I picked this one out?”

I nod quickly and my dad twists a nob and music starts playing from the box, and the ballerina starts twirling, “I got it because it looks like my littlest princess. And every time you see her, I want you to know that I bought it because it represents my love for my little girl.”

I smile up at my dad and jump into his arms, “I love you, too.”

Present day-

“Why are we going to the Gilbert house again?”

Alastair gives my brother an annoyed look from his position in the passenger seat of my car. Theo is currently driving us, so who knows if we’ll actually reach our destination.

“Jeremy just got Elena back from the hospital and we need to get you know who out of that small ass house so… adventure time.”

Alastair gives my brother a look, “Right, so bringing her to the house filled with people that caused this problem,” He gestures to me with his thumb, “Is the best idea? And adventure? It’s a 20-minute drive.”

Theo thinks for a moment before grimacing and then shrugging, “Whoops, didn’t process that,” He then smirks at him, “And it might be 20 minutes for slow drivers like yourself, but I’m going to get us there in 8.”

—

7 minutes and 54 seconds is how long it took us. I know because I counted each second. I hear Theo and Alastair get out of the car and close their doors, but I don’t move. After a few moments, my car door opens, and my nostrils fill with the scent of something masculine and yet almost comforting.

“Elskan…”

Elijah leans down to look at me, but I don’t look at him. I just keep staring ahead. 

“She’s been like this since you left,” Theo says from behind him, and Elijah turns and says something to him. My brother narrows his eyes and the vampire.

“Fine. But I’ll be watching through the window,” Theo says as he gives both of us one more look before going into the Gilbert’s house.  

“Y/n, I need you to look at me.”

I don’t.

Elijah sighs, and then I feel his hand grab my cheek and force me to look at him. He looks tired. 

“I know you’re mad at me, My love… and I can’t express how sorry I am that I didn’t tell you about your mark, but… Klaus and I discussed it, and we thought it was best to wait until things calmed down before dropping that big news on you.”

I don’t say anything to him. I just blink. And then I blink again…and once more. Elijah’s jaw clenches at my lack of words, and then he runs a hand over his face.

“Y/n just…say something. Anything. Scream at me, hit me, cry, tell me you hate me…just say anything,” Elijah’s dark brown eyes burn into mine as they shine with exhaustion and unshed tears. 

Fucking crybaby. 

I open my mouth, and Elijah’s eyebrows raise, almost in excitement.

“I’m bored.”

His face drops.

I unbuckle my seatbelt and push past him to get out of the car. He trails after me as I reach the front door and open it up to find Elena standing there looking at me. 

“Y/n…hi,” Elena gives me a nervous smile, and I just walk past her and into the living room where Matt, Jenna, Stefan, and now my brother, and Alastair are sitting. They are watching me as I place myself on a chair. Everything is quiet until Elena gasps, “Elijah?!”

—

Elijah is telling everyone he wants Klaus’s desiccated body. They moved the conversation to the kitchen because they didn’t want to talk about it around me, but they’re quite literally in the next room over, and I can hear everything they’re saying. Elijah’s being all noble again, talking about how he wants Klaus’s body because they’re family, yada yada yada. 

The only one who didn’t go into the other room was my brother and Jenna, who both sit near me. Jenna is on the couch to my right, and Theo is sitting in the armchair to my left. 

“How are you holding up,” I feel Jenna place her hand on my arm, and I glance at her before turning back towards the burning fireplace.

“Fine.”

“Sweetie, it’s ok not to be ok. If you want to talk about it, I’m-”

“I said I’m fine,” I don’t mean to lash out at the older woman, she doesn’t deserve it but…that numb feeling is starting to go away and it’s being replaced by this annoyance because everyone and their fucking mothers is coddling me like a fucking baby.  

I turn away from the hurt look on Jenna’s face as I hear Matt Donovan‘s voice.

“Klaus is a monster, he deserved what he got.”

Y/n Y/l/n Age- 12

I shake Theo’s hand away and move towards the bedroom door slowly. My shaking hand freezes on the handle as a loud crash comes from outside. I want to turn away and hide under the covers with Theo, but I can’t let him know I’m afraid. I twist the knob and push open the door. The only noise I hear as I walk down the steps of the staircase is my loud, nervous breaths. 

“Stop it! What are you doing?!”

My mother’s shrill voice makes me jump and almost fall down the stairs. I release a shaky breath as I tiptoe down the stairs and peek my head around the wall to see why my mother is yelling. I expect to see a huge, ugly monster attacking my mom, but all I see is her and my dad. 

“Daddy?”

At the sound of my voice, my mother instantly gets a scared look. 

“Sweetie, go back upstairs, everything’s ok.” 

My mother tries walking over to me, but my father’s huge frame blocks her from me, and I jolt back as he shoves my mother away from me so hard she falls onto the floor. 

“Mommy!” 

I try to run to my mother, but a strong hand grabs me by the arm and picks me up.

“Okay?! Everything is not ok,” He yells, his loud voice booming throughout the house. 

His angry voice is something I’ve become used to by now. But he’d never grabbed or pushed us before. 

My father is still holding me, and it gives me the chance to smell the awful scent coming off of him. I’ve smelled it a few times, and I think I heard Mom say once to one of her friends about Daddy liking alcohol too much. I don’t know much about alcohol, but I know I don’t like it if it makes my dad mean. 

“Why don’t you tell your daughter how much of a WHORE her mother is,” My father practically throws me onto the ground and I land on my knees. 

Tears instantly welled in my eyes at the stinging pain, and I instantly crawled towards my mother, who quickly grabs me and pulls me behind her. 

“Mark, you need to calm down,” My mother raises her hands to my father, trying to calm him down, but this only seems to make him more angry.

I watch through watery eyes as my father grabs a dark bottle behind him and takes a long sip of it before turning and glaring at my mother and then at me. 

“She was my princess,” My father yells as he points to me and then to himself, “MINE!” 

“Mark, you don’t understand,” My mother tries to stand, and a m moment passes before a stinging pain shoots through my head. 

I hear my mother’s scream as I feel myself being pulled into someone's arms, “Baby, you’re ok. Just keep your eyes open, alright. Mommy will get you help.”

“I didn’t mean to hit her,” I hear my father’s voice come closer, and I start to get really tired. 

“Get out! Get the fuck out! And never come back!”

After a second, I open my eyes slightly and I see my mother rocking me with tears streaming down her face, “Don’t worry, baby, momma’s gonna keep you safe.”

That was the last time I ever saw Dad. 

Present Day-

“Hey, Y/n.”

Oh, great, my brother’s boyfriend is here. 

“How are you-”

“I wouldn’t ask her that if I were you,” My brother interrupts him and shakes his head. 

“When did you get here?”

Jeremy frowns and then glances at Theo, who shakes his head slightly. 

“About 20 minutes…You didn’t hear everything we just planned?”

Twenty minutes?

I shake my head, and Jeremy gives me a small smile, and then he and Theo tell me how they tricked Alaric into thinking Damon is dumping Klaus’ body in the woods and whilst he is looking for a body that won’t be there Rebekah is going to get Klaus’ body and then her, Elijah and Kol are going to go on the run from Alaric. 

“Ok.”

Jeremy and Theo both look unsettled by my lack of care. 

“Gentlemen, do you mind if Y/n and I have the room?”

They both turn to see Elijah standing behind them, and Theo groans in annoyance but still grabs Jeremy and Matt as they leave the room.

“I know you’re upset, but there are some things we need to discuss.”

I raise an eyebrow and wait for him to continue, “I know you now know of the plan, but…we need to discuss where you fall into this,” Elijah gives me a sadden look before continuing, “Because of your connection to myself and my brother that would mean that even if my family were to leave you here in Mystic Falls, you would still be in danger of being used as leverage against myself and my family from Alaric. Which is why… I need you to leave town with me. If you want, Theo can come as well, even your mother. But, we must leave as soon as Rebekah gets Klaus’ body.”

“No.”

Elijah seems displeased with my answer but not surprised.

“Elskan, I know this is hard, but-”

“I can’t just leave town, Elijah. I have a life here, I have friends and family. I haven’t even finished school,” I shake my head and stand up, and try to move around the suited Original. 

Elijah stops me with a dark look, “I understand that Y/n. Trust me. But you,” He places his finger on my chest, “Are my life. And I have always respected your choices and decisions, but this time I can’t. Not when it comes with the risk of you being harmed for being connected to me. You can be mad at me, you can even hate me, but you will hate me thousands of miles away from this small town.”

“Elijah I-”

“I. Love. You. There is nothing under the sun that I would not destroy if it meant keeping you safe. I have lost too much, but what I won’t lose is you. So you’re going to go home and pack now. Say your goodbyes.”

“What about my brother, Elijah?! He won’t just leave!”

“Yes, I will.”

We both turn to see my brother walk down the staircase with Jeremy following close behind. 

“Anywhere she goes, I go. I won’t lose you because you’re too stubborn to leave this stupid town. So if me going helps you leave, then I’ll go with you.”

I shake my head and walk over to my brother, “I can’t ask you to do that, Theodore. You have a life here.”

Theo shakes his head and grabs my hands in his, “You’re my sister, my mother, my father, and my best friend. You are my life. Besides, when was the last time we went on vacation,” Theo tries to joke, but I know he’s heartbroken at the realization he’s leaving his home. 

“We have to tell Mom.”

Theo pauses and then nods, “We say our goodbyes, and then we’ll go home to talk to her and then pack.”

“I’ll be there as soon as Rebekah calls, and pick you two up,” Elijah says as he walks up to us. 

“So this is it? We’re leaving?”

Theo looks to me and then back to Jeremy, who wears a solemn look.

“Ya, I guess we are.”

—

Jenna cried when I said my goodbyes. She told me that it wasn’t goodbye, just a see you later…but we both know this isn’t. Matt hugged me and told me to call him if I ever needed to, not sure why I need to call him of all people, but the thought was nice, I guess. Jeremy and my brother have been talking in his room for the past 10 minutes, saying their goodbye, and I feel horrible for splitting them up.

“You’re leaving?”

I pause as I reach the top of the stairs by Elena’s room and see Stefan staring at me with a sad look. 

“You heard.”

He nods.

We both stand in silence for a moment before Stefan takes a step forward, “I know you hate me. And you have every reason to. But I want you to know that I never wanted this. You, out of all people, deserve a normal and happy life. You shouldn’t have to run.”

“And yet here I am. Running.”

Stefan gives me a guilty look. Good. 

“I just want you to know that…I’m sorry. When I first met you, I knew you had a good heart. And over the time I got to know you I thought you and I would become good friends,” I go to chime in but he stops me, “And yes I know we could’ve if I hadn’t been a complete jackass and tried to kill you. Which I wouldn’t have, by the way. But… hopefully one day in the far future, if you ever change your mind on hating me…just know I’ll pick up the phone if you want to call.” 

I don’t say anything. I don’t know what to say. But I give him a smile, and that seems to be enough for him. 

I walk past him and stand at the entry of Elena’s room. My friend is currently pacing but stops when she sees me. She quickly gains a smile on her face, but as she notices my look of sadness, her face drops, and she takes a step towards me. 

“Y/n? What’s going on?”

“I’m…saying goodbye.”

Elena freezes and then shakes her head, “Goodbye? What are you going home?”

I don’t look at her as I shake my head.

“Well, if you’re not going home…then where are you going?”

I shrug, “I don’t actually know. But I just can’t be here. In Mystic Falls. I’m leaving with the Mikaelsons. Theo is coming too.”

I look up to see Elena shaking her head quickly, “No. No, you can’t leave. They can’t make you. You…You have a life here. You’re life is here. Your family is here, your friends. I’m here. You can’t just leave. What about school or your mom or-”

“Elena,” I stop her rambling, “Alaric will kill me if I stay. I know, and you know it too.”

Elena shakes her head and starts pacing again as if she’s trying to think of a solution, even though we both know there isn’t one. 

“You’re human, he won’t hurt you.”

She says it, but we both know we don’t believe it. And technically, I’m not fully human. 

I take a step into her room and she pauses and looks at me with tears in her bambi eyes. 

“I don’t want you to leave,” She says as her voice cracks. 

I feel a sob build in my throat, and it’s as if all the emotions I haven’t felt the past 12 hours have come rushing towards the surface as I feel tears explode out of my eyes. 

“I don’t want to leave.”

Elena drops onto the edge of her bed, and I sit beside her. Tears run down both of our faces, and I feel Elena grab my hand in hers. I tighten my hold on her hand, and I turn to face her. 

“I never had friends before you, y’know. Kids didn’t really like me very much growing up. I was always the odd one out. The weird and quiet one. And I know this is going to be weird to say, but…I’m happy I got kidnapped that first time with you,” I say this, and we both let out sobbing laughs, “So, thank you for taking a chance on me and being my friend.”

Elena lets out a small sob before launching herself at me into a hug. 

“I never took a chance on you, Y/n. You’re the one who took a chance on me. I dragged you through hell since the first time we met, and yet you’re still here. And I may have other friends, but…Well, I know that soulmates are just for the Originals, but…in another life, you’re my soulmate.”

I give her a shaking smile, “In another life.”

—

I leave a crying Elena as I walk out of her bedroom and shut the door. At the same time, Theo leaves Jeremy's door, and we both look like we’ve been through hell and back. 

“You ready?”

“I’m coming too.”

We both turn to see Alastair climbing the stairs. 

“You don’t have to do that, Alastair, Klaus is desiccated, you don’t have to follow his orders,” I shake my head.

“Good Lord, woman, do you ever hear what I say to you. I’m not going with you guys because of him. I’m going because of you.”

Theo and I share a glance, and he just shrugs.

“Ok… then I guess we’re all going.”

—

“Still nothing from Damon?”

Theo asks as he pulls down the road that connects to our house.

I shake my head, “No.”

“Why are you even calling him? I thought you hated him?”

I pause. 

“I honestly don’t know. I mean, I lived with the guy for months. I told him things I’ve only ever told you. Before he betrayed me, he was like an older brother, I guess. I don’t know, it’s probably pathetic, but I just wanted to have a final goodbye.”

Theo reaches over the console and grabs my hand, “It’s not. It means you’re human. Well…not entirely.”

I shove him, “Ass.”

We both let out small laughs as we pulled into our house.

“Y/n?”

Theo’s shocked voice startles me. 

“What?”

He points his finger forward, and I feel my body freeze up when I see the blue pick up. 

— 

“Theo, stay here!” 

I try to hold my younger brother back, but he pushes past me, “Hell no. I want to see that Bastard for myself.”

I want to stop him, but he pushes past me and runs into the house. 

I run after him, and as I enter the house, I freeze when the man I once loved and called Dad stares back at me. 

“What the hell are you doing here, you bastard,” Theo growls at the man. 

“You’re calling the wrong person, bastard, son,” Marc says as he glares at me.

“Marc, I told you you need to leave,” Our mother yells at him, and that’s when I notice the small cut in her lip. 

Theo must notice this too because he instantly charges at our father, “You hit my mother!”

Before I or my mother stops him, Theo throws a fist into Marc’s face as hard as he can, sending the man flying backwards into the wall. 

“You little asshole!” 

Marc stands back up and goes to charge at my brother, but I push Theo behind me.

“Don’t you dare put a finger on him, you asshole!”

My father pauses as he stares at me. Then he releases a sick laugh as he shakes his head. 

“If I still thought you were mine, I’d be proud in this moment to see you finally grew yourself a backbone. Too bad you’re whore of a mother made sure you weren’t mine!”

A harsh slap hits my face, and I fly backwards, knocking Theo down with me. I hear a loud thump, and I quickly turn and see Theo with his eyes closed. A wave of panic rushes over me, making me completely forget everything around me as I try to shake my brother awake.

“Theodore! Theo, wake up! Please! PLEASE!”

A crashing pain to my ribs knocks the breath out of me and throws me off my brother.

“You BASTARD! You killed him! You killed my son!”

I clutch my ribs as I stare wide-eyed at Marc as he looms over me.

I shake my head and try to deny it, crying as I speak, but he just looks down at me with an anger I’ve never seen on anyone before.

“I wish that bottle to the head would’ve killed you, you bitch!” 

Marc charges at me, but my mother jumps on his back, stopping him. 

“Baby, RUN!”

I look to my mother and then to my unconscious brother, and then turn and run down the hallway into my bedroom. 

Shaky breaths escape from me as I lock my door and grab the closest thing to me to protect myself. I walk to the corner of the room and wait. I hear my mother yell out in pain, and my sobs get louder. Everything is quiet after another moment. That is, until I hear the steps of loud boots. 

“Come out, Princess. I’m sorry. You know I don’t mean it when I get angry. I just can’t control it sometimes. So just come out and we can start over, okay. Think of your brother… he needs a doctor.”

The boots stop in front of my door. 

“Princess… OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!”

The door threatens to break apart as my father continues to kick it. I quickly look around to find anywhere to hide, and when I see my window, an idea pops into my head. 

I quickly open my window and then hide under my bed and wait. I have to bite my lip from not releasing a gasp as the door finally gives in and breaks off its hinges. The next few moments of my father looking in my room and then pausing at my window seem to go on forever. I only release a breath of relief when he swears and runs out of the room, hopefully outside where he thinks I ran. 

I give it another moment before I slip out from under my bed and run to the living room. Tears fill my eyes as I see my mother holding Theo’s unconscious body on her lap. I kneel down, and that’s when I notice the blood trickling down her forehead. 

“Momma?”

My mother pauses, stroking Theo’s head as she looks up at me. The blood falls down her face, but she doesn’t seem to notice or care. Her eyelids drop, and I quickly grab her and shake her shoulders.

“Mama, wake up, please!”

My mother’s eyelids peel open, and she gives me a bloody smile and raises her hand and strokes the side of my face. 

“My beautiful baby girl, I’m sorry I wasn’t always able to protect you… But this time I did. Right? I did?”

Her head drops, and I release a loud sob, and I shake her body.

“Mommy, please, please, mommy, wake up,” I’m wailing now. Salty tears and snot fill my mouth as I continue to yell for my mom, “Please don’t leave me! Don’t leave me…”

“You destroy everything you touch, don’t you?”

I turn over my shoulder to see Marc standing behind me. 

“You killed your brother, you killed your mother, and now you have nothing.”

I look at my mother and then towards Theo, and I close my eyes and throw my head back as I release a painful wail. 

“A bastard like you doesn’t deserve to mourn my family!”

My head is thrown back farther as he grabs my hair and pulls me away from my dead mother and brother. I feel him pull me, and then I feel a harsh kick to the ribs again. He does it over and over again, and I take it. I deserve it. I killed Theo. I’m the reason my mom is dead. I deserve to be dead, too. 

A harsh kick to my lower back pushes me over to where Theo is lying, and I admire the soft look on his face as the hits keep coming. A small groan fills my ears, and I realize it isn’t mine. I narrow my eyes at my brother, and that’s when I notice the small shift of his chest. 

He’s still breathing. 

My baby brother is still alive. 

But he won’t be if I leave him here with his father.

Stand up, Y/n. 

Fight back, Y/n. 

GET UP, Y/N!

“Seriously! Now you fight back? Why? You have nothing to live for.”

Marc finds enjoyment in watching me stagger up, he’s too busy gloating that he doesn’t catch my hand, grab a hold of something. 

“You’re wrong,” I choke on my own blood as I speak.

He takes a step closer, “I’m sorry I didn’t catch that. Say it one more time,” His mocking tone sends a wave of anger through me. 

“I said. You are WRONG,” At the final word, I throw my hand back and then thrash it forward into my father's neck. 

We’re both silent for the next moment. Me, because it hurts to speak, and him, because I stabbed him right in the neck. 

Blood spurts out of his mouth as he reaches up and pulls the small ballerina from my jewelry box out of his neck. Blood spurts from the wound and soaks my face, but I don’t care. Fuck him. Let the bitch bleed. 

Marc staggers back and falls onto the ground, dropping the ballerina right next to him. I stalk over to him and watch as he stains our carpet with his tainted blood. 

He reaches out a hand for me, and I take it and kneel beside him.

“Don’t speak. You’ll just bleed out faster,” I whisper to him with no ounce of remorse. 

He gurgles on his blood, and I stand up. 

I raise my foot and with one stomp, I break his neck. 

I stare at my fathers, Marc’s limp body, and then I look at my mother and father. With the little strength I have left, I fall to my knees and crawl towards them. I’m about to reach them when a blinding pain flows throughout my body. It feels as if every bone in my body is cracking and my body is on fire. 

And then it stops. 

I lean down and place my head in my mother’s lap right next to Theo’s. 

“Y/n?”

I look up and see Alastair kneeling before us with a look of horror on his face. 

I cough out blood as I try to smile at him.

He quickly bites into his wrist and forces it to my mouth. 

My eyes flutter shut, but not before I hear him say three words. 

Klaus. Is. Dead.

THE END OF BOOK ONE

[sakur4ii]

Written in the Stars Masterlist

Klaus Mikaelson x Soulmate!Reader x Elijah Mikaelson

Parts-

Part 1

Memes

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Memes

Part 8

Memes

Part 9

Memes

Part 10

Memes

Part 11

Memes

Part 12

Memes

Part 13

Memes

Part 14

Memes

Part 15

Memes

Part 16

Memes

Part 17

Memes

Part 18

Memes

Part 19

Memes

Part 20

Memes

Part 21

Memes

Part 22

Memes

Part 23

Memes

Part 24

Memes

Part 25

Part 26

Part 27

Part 28

Part 29

Part 30

Part 31

Questions

1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

6.

7.

8.

9.

10.

Playlists

Pinterest

[sakur4ii]

ready (klaus mikaelson)

plot: klaus always knew that one day you'd take him up on his offer.

character: female vampire reader x klaus mikaelson

inspired by something similar he says to caroline

"One day, love, you'll come to me. Might be in two years, might be two hundred but mark my words, you'll realise I was right along. I am the only one who can fulfil your wildest desires and your largest dreams. When you realise that, you'll come knocking on my door and then... well, love, then I'll give you the world."

It had been three and a half years since Klaus Mikaelson had said this to you. Three long years. He'd came into your life as a villain, you were supposed to hate him. He had killed, harmed and tortured so many of your friends (and his sister had tortured you a fair few times) and yet, he was always so delicate and gentle with you. He'd been interested in you pretty much ever since he came to Mystic Falls. You'd hated him... or at least, you tried.

He had gotten under your skin all of those years ago. He'd saved you too many times to count. He had shown you kindness and compassion, had recognised you for who you were; Klaus had seen you. You'd gotten to see a glimpse of the human side to him, not the scary big bad wolf, you'd started to see him. And when he left, with an invite extended your way, it took everything in you to say no.

Klaus hadn't stepped foot in Mystic Falls since he left and yet, every few months or so, he would write to you. Seldom did you respond but you enjoyed reading about his travels. Each time he wrote, he would send photos of the new place he was visiting usually with a list of reasons as to why you'd love it there with drawings he'd done and every single time he wrote, he attached a plane ticket to whatever destination with your name on it. You never used them, instead they gathered dust in a drawer which was full of his old letters. Klaus also always wrote exactly where he was staying at the end of the letter so you knew exactly how to get to him. Periodically, you'd go through and read some of them. They always smelled like him and had the same send off each time.

'Unequivocally yours, Klaus'

You knew that if you needed him, he would be there immediately. He had promised you as such. And the one time you called for help when Caroline got bit by a werewolf, Klaus couldn't be there in person but he sent Elijah with a few vials of his blood (extras for any future emergencies). He would do anything for you and all he wanted was the chance to show you as such.

So when this month's letter arrived with details of his new adventure complete with a plane ticket to Italy, you decided to take the chance you'd regretted not taking three and a half years prior. Your friends were oddly supportive which surprised you but Bonnie had told you she wanted you to be happy and if he's what made you happy then so be it. Damon wasn't impressed but he rarely ever was. Stefan urged you to your happy ending. Caroline approved, she'd seen the way Klaus would've done anything for you so even though she didn't like him, she knew that he was the real deal. Elena was supportive, she'd gone for the 'bad guy' in Damon so she understood the inner conflict and told you that it was okay to let yourself be happy.

So, you packed a bag and headed to Italy.

Getting there was the easy bit; the hard bit was finding the courage to knock on the front door. Your heart hammered in your chest as you stood on the grounds of what you could only describe as a small castle. It was beautiful, with glorious gardens and fragrant flowers. You swallowed hard before taking a breath, this is what you came for, and you knocked three times.

After a few seconds, you could hear someone's voice approaching. Klaus.

"-I didn't ask you to go to such lengths, brother, though I have to say I do appreciate it-"

He opened the door and his expression turned from one of mild annoyance to complete shock.

"Elijah, more important matters have emerged, I'll speak to you later." He hung up, pocketing his phone quickly. He looked good. The Italian sun suited him, turning his hair a shade blonder and making his blue eyes pop, "(y/n)..." A slow, wide smile spread onto his face.

You swallowed hard, "Hi, Klaus."

He stepped aside, silently inviting you into his castle, and with a small smile you breezed past him. He closed the door and led you through to a grand room with various couches and paintings. You looked around incredulously, "This place... it's incredible."

Klaus smiled, "I told you that you'd like this one."

You looked at him and felt nerves bubble in your stomach. You'd came all this way and now... you didn't know what to do. Klaus eyed you curiously, trying to gauge how you were feeling, "Do you need something?" Oh, how he hoped that you were here for him but he had to be sure.

You shook your head, finding words too hard to find, and instead looked back to the paintings, "These are beautiful, did you do these?"

Klaus appeared at your side, making you jump slightly, "Sorry, love," he smirked. He was so close to you, so near that you could smell his cologne. Your heart raced. His hand reached out past you to touch the painting, "I painted all of these, yes. This one is my favourite."

"The colours are lovely," you nodded.

Klaus smiled, quickly vanishing and then returning to your side, "Here, look in the mirror and then look at the painting."

You frowned at him but complied regardless of your confusion. He handed you a small hand mirror which you looked into and then at the painting, "I don't get it," you said to which he urged you to look again and then you realised, "my eyes."

Klaus grinned, "There we go, love," he beamed proudly, "my favourite colours and shades to use. They crop up a lot in my paintings. Go, look," he encouraged you forwards, "take a look and you'll see how often you feature in my paintings."

For a moment, you walked around the room, soaking in the subtle (and sometimes not so subtle) hints of your eye colour in every single one of his paintings. It touched you causing you to feel warm inside and you couldn't understand why. You looked at him. He stood on the other side of the room watching you with awe filled eyes, "But why?" You asked softly with tears filling your eyes, "Why me?"

In an instant, he was in front of you, chest touching yours, with his eyes locked with yours, "Oh, love," he whispered, hand reaching out to graze your cheek softly, "It's always been you."

You looked up at him, "You asked me if I needed something earlier." Klaus's brow furrowed and his hand stilled - fear; fear that you weren't here for him, fear that you needed something and then you'd disappear again. "I do need something, Klaus."

"Anything."

"I want... I need you." Your admission was quiet but he heard you loud and clear, "For years, I've regretted saying no to your offer to come with you. I want to live, Klaus. I want to be free. I want to be happy and that means letting myself be happy with... you."

"Me?" Klaus asked.

You nodded as your own hand found its way to rest on his chest, "I'm ready to fall in love with you, Klaus. I just hope I'm not too late."

He grinned, wider than you'd ever seen him smile, "You're right on time, love," he said before his lips crashed to yours. And for the first time ever, you let yourself give in.

[sakur4ii]

It's A Beta Life, Not A Better Life | Part 11

A platonic yandere Batfam x neglected beta reader story

In the end, you didn't tell Duke what you were.

It was cowardly of you, perhaps. Disrespectful of Duke's person. But when you looked straight into his eyes and remembered the boy you protected back then, remembered how he hadn't forgotten you either and now chatted with you so happily...

You didn't want to–sully it? Ruin it? By telling him how now you were a beta too. You didn't want to stop chatting like this, you didn't want to start empathizing with Duke over how awful it was to live as a beta in this world, you didn't want to put Duke at risk for knowing what you were.

But you didn't want to lie to him either, so in the end you asked Duke, "Actually, I'm... Well, I kind of miss you? Can we... if you don't mind, can we hang out, from time to time?"

Duke looked a bit surprised, then abashed, then eventually–pleased. He beamed. "Sure thing! It'd be great to hang out with you again, Reader!"

The two of you traded smiles, followed by phone numbers. Starting that day, you and Duke began to hang out–only from time to time, considering you still had to prepare and Duke himself had his own thing to do, but whenever you couldn't meet you still messaged or called each other.

It was nice.

It was fun.

It was, unbeknownst to you, the last month you could spend peacefully before the worst happened:

The Waynes found out.

The Wayne pack did not care about you.

For the past nine years, ever since they knew of your existence and you came to live at the manor with them, all the pack members from that time and subsequent ones had displayed their lack of care for you openly. Shamelessly. Guiltlessly, as neglecting you wasn't a wrong thing to them.

But when Bruce summoned his chosen children to the manor for a pack meeting concerning you, they all turned up.

Damian returned from school as soon as class ended–although that was his regular habit. Tim shambled down the stairs from his room where he'd been sleeping off the high of solving three cold cases. Jason arrived accompanied by the loud revving engine of his bike. Dick burst in at the last minute, hair askew despite still looking as though it had been artistically arranged that way, before all but throwing the whole length of his body on a chaise.

"This better be super important, B," groaned Dick, half-muffled into a cushion. "Oh my God. When I meet whoever it is has been leaking all those stuffs I'm gonna kiss them. Kill them. Both. Either. Oh my God I'm tired."

"We do not kill," reminded Bruce. Dick flipped him off.

"We do not talk about Reader at pack meetings either," added Tim evidently without thinking, judging from how he winced after blurting that out. Though the way Damian glared and flashed a knife his way likely also contributed.

Jason snorted. "So what's this about, B? The pup finally bit off more than they could chew, or did they chew your handmade Italian leather shoes?"

"Refrain from equating my sibling's behavior to a dog, Todd," Damian snarled. Jason sneered and opened his mouth likely to provoke Damian, but was cut off by Alfred coughing pointedly.

"If you two young gentlemen would be so good to listen to Master Bruce's answer, please?"

A mumbled sorry Alfie and similar sounds were uttered by not only Jason and Damian, but also Dick and Tim. Bruce observed all but one of his children and felt a mixture of fondness and pain.

Fondness for his children. Pain for you, who somehow had been overlooked by everyone in the pack including himself.

But not anymore. Nevermore, Bruce swore to himself.

He spoke, "It has come to my attention... at the very least, that I have been neglecting Reader."

A series of frown answers him.

"You, Bruce?" Dick paused, rising from his prone position on the chaise. "...I might have been the same. In my defense, well. You guys know what is happening in 'Haven right now."

Tim nodded, hesitantly adding, "I've been trying to talk with them these past few months, but... I never did before..."

Jason scoffed, but self-consciously averted his gaze. "I took it for granted you'd take care of your biological kid yourself, B. I–the me from–before, wouldn't want to discover how welcome he'd be. And after... Eh." He shrugged, still not looking at anyone.

Damian alone looked at his brothers one by one, clearly confused in spite of the forbidding scowl on his face, before directing his gaze to Bruce in disbelief.

"Am I meant to conclude that you not treating Reader as pack member was not deliberate?"

Everyone exploded at that. Bruce reeled despite remaining seated on his armchair.

"Gods, Dami, of course it wasn't?!"

"Hold on, hold on. You knew?"

"Old man!" Jason snapped, eyes now flashing fiery and green at Bruce. "Tell me you didn't!"

Bruce slowly blinked once, twice, like a man concussed. His face pale and his voice hoarse when he finally spoke, "Yes, Damian. I didn't–sincerely, I didn't notice."

The disbelief on Damian's face was now mixed with anger and disgust. "So you are telling me," he intoned, "that I could have laid claim on my blood sibling from the start?"

"You were going to...?" Dick's voice faltered as a thought struck him. "Guys," he called, "who assisted Reader back when they presented?"

Tim, Jason and Bruce traded uneasy glances with each other. Bruce paled even more at this and hurriedly sought Alfred, silently pleading that at least his always-reliable butler, his sole caretaker after his parents' passing, his pack omega had been there for you when no one else was.

His heart sank when Alfred pressed his lips and refused to meet anyone's eyes.

Dick began to tremble. "Nobody did? None of you did?" He whirled towards Bruce. "B, how could you?! You know how dangerous a first heat can be! You told me all about it when you sat through my first heat!"

Tim shrank into his seat, palm over his horrified face. His brain very likely going at mach speed at the implication and various possibilities while his mouth was only able to mutter "Oh my God, oh my God–"

Bruce himself seemed to be experiencing the same thing as Tim, before he belatedly realized something odd.

"Heat?" Bruce looked back at Dick, bewildered. "Dick, Reader is an alpha."

"They're what?"

Not only Dick, but Tim stopped at that. Jason blinked the green off his eyes, confused as well, but in opposite direction.

"Of fucking course kid's an alpha? They snarled at me when I–hold on." This time, it was him who turned to Bruce. "Hey, B, did you know Reader is attending Park Row High?"

"They what?"

"Attending Park Row fucking High. According to their files, they'd been there since freshman year. They're a junior now. I confronted them about being there in Crime Alley to keep an eye on me under your order or something, and they told me you probably knew nothing about it."

Tim all but leaped to his laptop, fingers rapidly clicking to hack your academic files. Meanwhile, Dick shook his head, unable to come to terms with the concept of you being an alpha instead of an omega like your mother.

"Reader is not an alpha. They never said they were–" Suddenly he stopped, realizing that you never explicitly said you were an omega either.

But. But if you weren't an alpha... or an omega...

"Tt."

As Damian clicked his tongue, for some reasons everyone fell silent. Even Tim paused his hacking to look at Damian, whose eyes swept the great room and all its occupants with condescension before he went on,

"I don't care what my sibling is. Now that I know I did not need to wait until I become pack alpha, I shall claim Reader as my beta."

A literal bomb could not stun the rest of the pack more. They either stood or sat still, stupefied. Until an alarm set to their respective phones or other devices suddenly rang, alerting them to an even more urgent matter.

An Arkham breakout.

Despite the alarm blaring through the whole city, you remained rooted to your seat, earphones on from when you listened in on the Waynes via the bugs you made yourself.

You still felt the figurative icy water down your spine hearing Damian state his intention for you. Your hands shook. Your eyes stared without your brain registering anything. You had no idea how many times in a minute you thanked fates for deciding to plant those bugs and make the program to alert you exactly for a situation like this.

Had you not done so, had you cluelessly been there...!

Blindly, you groped for an inhaler. You wheezed to yourself, remembering how you thought that had to be excessively prepared of you to get an inhaler alongside the rest of your med supplies. Dimly, you wondered if you were dissociating.

You had to leave. Run away. Hide? Fake your death? The timing was perfect actually, what with Joker out there.

You wheezed again until you choked. For a brief moment, you scolded yourself for not having the forethought to prepare a fake corpse to dump. Was this a panic attack?

Wait, you heard them speaking again.

"–suit up."

"Robin, you're with me."

"Red Hood–"

"I'm fucking peachy, Nightwing. Shut it."

Wait a minute, wait a minute, wait a freaking minute.

All those names–weren't they...? But wouldn't it mean the Waynes–legally your family members–were the vigilantes of Gotham?

You hadn't even finished wrapping your head around the idea when you heard something else. Something almost as terrifying, actually.

The window nearest you shattered by the swing of a crowbar. With a stifled gasp you rolled away, arms shielding your face from the glass shards. Before you lowered them, you could already tell who it was from their speaking.

"WHAT'S THIS?! A LITTLE BIRDIE FALLING OUT OF THEIR NEST! C'MON, BIRDIE, LET'S PLAY A GAME WITH UNCLE JOKER!!! HAHAHAHA!!!"

A/N: *evil dramatic music intensifying*

We're getting to the climax, folks! Brace yourselves, I predict about three to five chapters left!! This one is kinda rushed in pacing I think but hopefully you guys still like it. Please send asks and replies to motivate me! 🙏

Btw in case it was unclear, the scene with Duke in the first half happened on the FIFTH month mark right after Damian left Chinatown. So reader still had one (1) month left with Duke before the Batfam found out in the second part on the SIXTH month mark. Yeah yeah I know it was unnecessarily complicated, my bad 💕

Also catch Alfred trying to avoid confessing he had been deliberately neglecting reader lmao

P. S. Question. Does the tag still work if it can't be clicked? Like it's just the name with the @ symbol, does it still work or is there a limit to how many people I can add to the tag list?

Taglist: @randomlyappearingartist @bellethesleepypotato @nirvanaxx1942 @tenswife @galaxypurplerose @shycreatorreview @cupid73 @time-shardz @mikusamsan @simpingpandas @kore-of-the-underworld @elmichi0 @mirabilis-polaris @farsketch @altumsomnum @hai-there-how-are-you @vanessa-boo @ashjade19 @yandere-enthusiast @a-lurking-fae @hyperfixatedcatlover @leeiasure @luckynemi @lowkeyjarrr @lunoorbonoor @deathbynarcisstick @tacendxx @staarflowerr @anonlikesfics @magical-panda2 @whognuthis @arwenyukiamoto @hon3ydewcaram3l @lilyalone @jazzyspaceghost @teabutnerdy @bunbunbread @darktrashpoetry @conqcakes @sleepdeprivedcrappywriter @unrelatedlily @ciatin @ratchetprime211 @mybones537 @anonasatoruu @vikkus-main @shqyou @sitepathos @ee-1ovelifedownthedrain @totallynotacat13 @ratterpatter @hayourdadgon @justannie18 @jungkooks-tiny-waist @holderoflostmemories @woodscranesbill @neverdead2 @iansimpsforeveryone @numbu5 @eas-kat @hanz-176 @alishii @holyfishbailiffpeanut @type-ink @mysh-lynnn @juskonutoh

[sakur4ii]

It's A Beta Life, Not A Better Life | Masterlist

By popular request (read: one (1) ask in my inbox) I present you... The Masterlist™

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

To be erased later: Update tomorrow at the earliest, guys! 💕

[sakur4ii]

Tim reacting to YOU having a crazy unhinged confession to him because your brain is going 100 miles per hour and doesn’t seem to stop until he kisses you.

You got it, shawty. Lowk inspired by myself bc I also can't process my emotions for shit, and my self regulation skills are okay at best. Thanks for the ask, hope it does it justice ! If not, feel free to send in another !

｡⁠.ﾟ✧ ˎˊ˗

My Shell-Shaped Mind｡⁠.ﾟ★ ˎˊ˗

｡⁠☆Synopsis: you've always had a hard time understanding what you're feeling, thank God Tim is here to help

｡⁠☆Cw: panic attack, a little stuttering, no use of y/n, no pronouns used

You've never been good with emotions. Maybe it was your less than pleasant upbringing that started it, or maybe you were just born that way. All throughout your life you've had a hard time processing what you're feeling, many relationships, both romantic and platonic, have ended over the years because you can't self regulate, because you can't identify your emotions.

And then came Tim, your best friend.

Now, Tim also has never been good with emotions, making you two peas in a fucked up little pod. Though, instead of being unable to identify them like you, it's more like he's been trained to ignore them. There's no time for feeling when you're on the field, after all.

So a true friendship was born. One that blossomed in ways that could only be understood by you two. Both of you left brained and logic leaning on the outside, but twisted up masses of unexpressed emotions on the inside. You just got each other. From the moment you met it was like you could read each other perfectly.

So this must be why you're so off kilter now, right? You've never thought of Tim in a romantic way before, at least, you didn't think you had! He was- is- your best friend, and friends don't think of friends that way, or you don't think they're supposed to. So now you're stuck, hot faced, embarrassed, alone in your room, in the middle of the night.

What are you even supposed to do with these feelings? Do you say something? Do you keep it a secret? You've had boyfriends before, but it's never felt the way it does with Tim. He makes you feel hot, and makes your stomach turn, and your heart flip. He makes you nervous, and you don't understand why because it wasn't like that before you had this realization! It doesn't make any sense.

You're hyperventilating a little, maybe a lot. You don't know what to do and you hate not knowing what to do because then you can't fix it! Nothing will get done when there's no solution, but you can't even identify the problem, and how the hell are you gonna solve anything if you don't know the problem.

Fuck. You're so out of it, you don't even notice when Tim climbs in through your window. He's still decked out in Red Robin gear, frowning at his phone, until his gaze turns to you. You look like shit, to put it frankly.

"Woah-" Tim barks, practically throwing himself to your side. "Breathe, breathe, what happened, are you hurt?"

You stutter and you gasp like you're learning to breathe for the first time. Getting words out is an internal battle. Tim is trying to help, a hand on your shoulder as he crouches beside you, a worried glare in his eyes. He's clearly just as lost as you though.

"C'mon, what's wrong?" He sounds a little more forceful than he meant to, desperate.

"I-I just- I don't- I can't-" you gasp, "I don't know what to do! Tim, Tim, I think I'm in love with-with you, and I don't know what to do about it! You're my best friend, I don't want to ruin anything, I don't want to be in love with you, but I can't help it, and I don't know why, and I feel like I don't know anything at all anymore and-"

And suddenly there's lips on yours. Soft, careful lips. There's hands slowly trailing up to your face, gently holding your cheeks, and then Tim pulls away. You didn't even close your eyes, too startled to do anything but sit there.

"I know."

"You know?"

"Yeah." Tim's voice is flat, monotone, but his eyes bore into you like a shovel digging into the earth. "I mean, I like you a lot too, so I didn't think it was a big deal."

There's a heavy silence between the two of you for a moment, your brain is still lagging behind the situation, unable to form the correct response. You're stuck staring at each other, waiting for the other to make the next move.

Tim clears his throat. "Can I kiss you again?"

"Yeah..."

Your lips are captured again, a few soft pecks being pushed into something deeper. You feel like a newborn foal for a moment, clueless on where to put your hands or how to move your lips, even though you've kissed before. It's like you've forgotten everything you've ever learned.

As usual, Tim senses your unease, and finds your hands in his without breaking the kiss. He rubs soft circles into your palms until you finally relax into it, nerves floating away for a sweeter feeling to take it's place.

Distantly, as your brain grows a little fuzzy, you think to yourself; it might be worth it to feel new things, if this is my outcome.

Ngl I had no fucking clue how to end this, so hopefully it's okay

Also, my Tumblr keeps deleting the writing I'm doing for my asks, and why I copy-paste my work from Google docs to here it crashes 😩😩 I'm trying so hard y'all I'm so sorry it's taking forever to answer asks it literally isn't my fault LMFAO

｡⁠☆Requests Open

[sakur4ii]

Eat your Young

Ch. 00

Y Batfam x GN Reader

Soulmate and Mafia AU

Featuring Platonic: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Damian Al Ghul Wayne

810 words

Masterlist

Ch.00 -> Ch. 01

Five strips.

Each a different colour across your right forearm. ¼ inch thick, 1 inch long.

Black. Blue. Red. Orange. Green.

You knew what they represented, you’ve been preparing to meet them ever since they burned themselves into your arm at the ripe age of 5.

It hurt only for a minute, you remember it like it was yesterday. The excruciating burn of fire as the colours filled up the 5 tiny rectangles. You cried for days to your parents that’d you never forgive your soulmates for doing this to you. You’ve never experienced pain like that before, and no pain has ever come close.

but now— you’d go through it all over again. if it meant finally meeting at least one of them.

You were the first kid in your tiny neighborhood to get your mark, but the last to meet their soulmate. It’s been hard watching your friends grow distant— they drifted away one by one, swept away by destiny. They rarely made time for you now, choosing to spend their days with their soulmate over you. You never blamed them— you were sure you’d do the exact same thing once you met yours.

Throughout the years you’re sure you’ve seen it all. The platonic friendships that feel unbreakable, Lovers whose stories feel like a movie, toxic ties that neither person could escape from.

Soulmates didn’t always mean safety. For many the connection was too much, the love between soulmates is often overwhelming, and can cause them to hurt each other. But even when soulmates hurt each other— physically, emotionally or worse, they always stay together because they were chosen for each other.

Being chosen. The thought brings you a lot of comfort. As you lay in bed tracing your thumb over your marks, just as vibrant as the day you got them— still strong, still waiting for you like you are for them.

Five strips.

Five colours.

Five people, destined to choose you.

—

Wayne.

A name that carried so much weight in Gotham it was taboo for even the slimiest of criminals to mention. The Wayne crime family was established generations ago, built on drugs, politics, and blood. The Wayne’s have built their empire through fear and power. The current head, Bruce Wayne, known for his calculated leadership and ruthless methods, his reputation as the most dangerous Godfather haunts the streets of Gotham.

Dick. Jason. Tim. Damian. The sons of Bruce Wayne— adopted or biological, the four boys carry the same expectations to live up to the family's legacy and earn the title Wayne.

Richard Grayson, the eldest son. His charisma and charm are his greatest strength. He was born with the uncanny ability to make anyone comfortable— lower their guard, spill their secrets, betray their friends. He’s a people person who can spot a liar and a rat before they even have the chance to become one. He is the family’s spy, gathering and distributing information he knows everything going on around him.

Jason Todd, The second son. Born in the streets of Gotham, and reshaped into something terrifying. His control over the eastside has allowed him to strengthen the family’s drug ring and connections. He is the family’s brute force— his men are everywhere, their loyalty to him unwavering, all it takes is one call for something or someone to disappear.

Tim Drake, The third son. His mind and detective skills are his most prized talents. He has honed his intelligence and perfected his technologies, he built Wayne's digital empire from the bottom up— bugging phones, planting surveillance, nothing happens without him knowing. His obsessive nature and sharp mind make him their family’s greatest strategist.

Damian Al Ghul Wayne, the fourth son. The blood heir, raised as an assassin— he was born for war. His strength and skill has allowed him to cut through enemies without a second thought, maintaining the family’s status and reputation. His loyalty is unwavering, and his temper is lethal. He is the family’s future, and it’s a responsibility he doesn’t take lightly.

To the public, the family is an urban legend, barely seen— only blurred photographs, and rumours from tabloid magazines keep their image alive. The poparizie learned years ago to stay away and only take photos of what they want them to see. To Gothams underworld they were God— Ruthless, Cruel, and power hungry. Each family member uses their unique talents to Keep the bloodstained Wayne legacy thriving.

Being bonded together by fate and having immense strength and power, the family is in a league of their own. However despite this, they are still incomplete, they are still missing one thing— Their last mark, the final member of their family. They need you to be fulfilled, to have everything they could possibly want— which is why they are willing to do anything to find you.

Hey guys I’m back!! I feel like I definitely am a little rusty but oh well once I post a few more one shots and chapters I’ll be back into it. My sports thing went swimmingly I am so proud of myself!! But it’s over so now I can write as much as I want, updates will still be random but more frequent. I’m cooking up Ch. 04 of Wicked game as well as a lot of one shots (ty guys so much for sending me Ideasss). This chapter is mostly just world building so when I post chapter one there is already an idea of how the soulmate stuff works and how the Wayne crime family runs. But I’ve had this idea rolling around in my head for a while and it’s low key a combination of 2 fics I’ve read. @darkstaria soul animal fic it is so good, and @mimiiiiiiiiisstuff this is me trying, I love all of Mimi’s story’s they are so good. Anyways let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist thank you guys!!!

[sakur4ii]

Stefan: Y/n, please keep an eye on Damon. He’s gonna say something stupid and get punched

Y/n: Sure, I’d love to see Damon get punched

Stefan: Try again

Y/n: *sighing* I’ll stop Damon from getting punched

Stefan: Correct