#/say it aloud lmfao | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

namism · 13 days ago

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take me back | hange zoë

➳ categories: modern au, ex hange, female reader, angst

➳ word count: 11.7k

➳ summary: Hange Zoë realized that they didn't account for a lot of things before ending your relationship.

➳ notes: for everyone's reference, nifa, abel, and keiji are members of the fourth squad (hange's squad) and this fic was lowkey inspired by the lyrics of "kiss me better" by rihanna (don't ask lmfao it's so random). also, if you'd like, please read this on ao3 instead as i worked my butt off coding (yes, i coded instead of using screenshots) your DM's with hange. the version on tumblr is just a bunch of words, so the ao3 version is worth the read! you can find the link below :)

➳ cross-posted on ao3

ONE.

Five seconds before Hange ended your relationship, they noticed their hand clench tightly into a fist.

Three seconds later, they relaxed their hand before sucking in a deep breath and saying the three words you had always dreaded.

"Let's break up."

After three minutes of constant denial, you finally sucked up to your lover's—ex-lover's—decision and promptly stormed out of your apartment. It wasn't until the next morning did you come back to the shared space to pack your things and leave, not even daring to look at Hange's direction as you stowed away items into numerous moving boxes.

Hange remembers telling themselves to behave before you visited the apartment one last time. Knowing themselves, they would have said something stupid with the intention of taking back their words to get you back. Just before you strutted into the living room, Hange talked themselves through their crazy ideas in the mirror, eventually deciding to withdraw to the confines of their study in fear of interfering with your purposeful packing and making matters worse.

Hange got the signal from your tabby cat that you were out the door when it started making noise at the entryway. Its nonstop meowing was the go-signal for Hange to emerge from their study to find the apartment completely dulled down as it lacked the color that once filled the room.

It wasn't until near midnight that they decided to get something to eat after more than 24 hours of not having had a proper meal. With the intention of snacking a bit before hopping back on call with Levi and Erwin (their current emotional support duo who were surprisingly amazing at providing comfort), Hange walked over to the fridge to grab something to eat. When they opened the refrigerator, however, a green sticky note posted on the door caught their attention.

Adjusting their crooked glasses, Hange read the writing aloud.

"Cat food in drawer. Ask Nanaba for feeding schedule. Molecular kits to be sent this week. Nori hidden in pantry. Check all sockets. Check stove. Prepped food in fridge..."

It was at that moment Hange knew how badly they messed up. Written telegraphically, you had fit as many words as you could in the little sticky note to list all the essentials that only you would know how to do around the flat and the ones that Hange easily forgot to do. As another wave of sadness washed over them, Hange bitterly ransacked the fridge for an apple and a bottle of beer with decent alcohol content, then retreated to their study where Levi and Erwin chastised them over the screen for doing dumb and dumber things.

That essentially sums Hange's first 72 hours after breaking your heart into a million pieces. As a research scientist who's been confined at the lab for the past 15 years, those were by far the most uneventful 72 hours of their life. Hange found themselves weeping, drinking beer, ranting to Erwin and a less interested Levi, and sleeping for a maximum of two hours before doing it all over again in a never-ending cycle. It momentarily stopped when they had to work first thing the following Monday, but they relapsed quickly once they arrived home.

Hange couldn't remember the last time they drank that much beer. Their diet got worse as time passed, and thankfully Levi seemed to notice as he had come to their rescue the following evening by giving—drugging?—Hange with a sufficient dosage of melatonin in the black tea he offered. Much to Levi's surprise, Hange was down in 20 minutes without noticing a damn thing. They woke up the next morning, feeling lighter and well-rested.

Unbeknownst to them, Levi continued the routine with an appropriate concentration of melatonin until Hange was stable enough to be told the truth. They weren't bothered by the idea and were frankly more grateful than surprised. Over time, Erwin would swing by to share a cup (minus the dosage) only to leave the apartment with Levi after tucking Hange neatly in bed. Hange would wake up, feel energetically amazing despite the inevitable emptiness in their heart, and go to work.

TWO.

If you told Hange Zoë four years ago that there would come a time in which they would do something as dumb as breaking up with the only woman they were ever attracted to, you would have been called insane.

To be clear, Hange was never big on physical attraction. They were attracted to the weirdest, nerdiest, most mystifying things in the world, but attraction to humans? Certainly not. Hange Zoë, PhD (aged 27 and a certified organic chemist who had made at least a hundred drug-dealing jokes in the past eight years of studying), couldn't concern themselves with romance when it never crossed their mind to begin with. The only types of attraction they ever concerned themselves with were intermolecular forces (which they very much enjoyed learning in sixth grade chemistry) until they met you.

You were the perfect woman. Of that, they were certain. You began as friends in Hange's final year in university for their Bachelor's degree, but your friendship continued until Hange was halfway through their Master's. At that point, Hange felt as though your relationship was pretty solid given how often you spoke and saw each other outside campus. Before they knew it, they found themselves falling for you, their thoughts being muddled by images of your sweet face during the most random times of the day. Hange was wrapped around your finger and they couldn't get themselves to stop.

A month after that realization, Hange decided to ask you out in their own fashion—casually, but enthusiastic. You began dating some time after that and your relationship had been going strong ever since.

Now, after calling off the relationship with four years of dating and no rocky bumps on the road, Hange does, indeed, feel like an idiot. An imbecile. A dumbass, even. Blockhead. Nitwit. Stupid twit. A cretin. Hange could open the Cambridge Thesaurus and list out the synonyms for "idiot" because that's exactly what they are and there is no way of redeeming them from it.

"I just wished you would make the effort to spend time with me!" you exclaimed, eyebrows knitting in sorrow rather than anger, like Hange expected. "You can't even help me clean because you're so busy at your job, like— like I don't even exist sometimes to you."

Hange understands that it's their fault, but they cringe every time they recall the argument that led to the ultimatum. It started on the wrong foot. Looking back at it now, they suppose it was a chain of misunderstandings, one piling onto the other, until the tension finally snapped and dragged both of you into a full-blown argument.

"When the hell did I ever make you feel that way?!" they barked back, eyes wide and irises firm. They looked at you, waiting for an answer. "See?! You can't even answer me! Ridiculous!"

"I'm just— I'm just disappointed, okay?! Fuck, I don't know..." Head falling to your palms, you wiped your face in a stressed motion. "You never, and I mean this, you never—not once in our relationship—ever misunderstood me, so what's gotten into you? Aren't you're so clever, huh?! High IQ, high EQ?"

"Oh, please, in what world would I forget that my girlfriend exists?!" they yelled. You flinched at their tone. "I don't ghost you, I don't ignore you— I come home late, but damn, you don't know the guilt that eats me up every night because the only times I see you are when I go to bed and leave for work—"

"And who's at fault for your guilt but you?!" you retorted. "Hange, you"—you shoved a finger to their chest—"you're the one who can't take care of yourself because you're so invested in everything but your life at home! We haven't gone out in three months, like— like don't you think that's strange? Everyone is getting married, having kids, fuck, even my juniors are on their third night out of the week, yet you can't even take care of yourself unless I do it for you!"

The truth is, being obsessed with your job and anything that has to do with it is also detrimental to everyone who loves you. It never crossed Hange's mind because they haven't had this much on their plate since you started dating. There was always some time allotted for you at the end of the day, but things started to change lately.

On top of their regular job at the lab, Hange has four other things to do: tutor high schoolers for their admissions tests, teach as a part-time lab instructor at a private university, be a loving partner to their girlfriend, and be an equally loving parent to their adopted cat. Life hadn't always been like this, but they found themselves taking up more responsibilities over time until it was physically impossible to rest on most days. They couldn't even enjoy their weekends, for goodness' sake (because the high schoolers would always come knocking in their emails with more questions)—but if they were to take a break, they would return a day later to even more work.

Hange is simply not the type of person to live a peaceful life. Their peace is chaos; it doesn't help their mood when they aren't working on anything that stresses them out. Perhaps that's just the person they are. It should be okay to be this way, to always be in constant motion as long as the heart is followed and their happiness is fulfilled, but it isn't because they're risking so much of your relationship the more they work, work, and work.

You've always been supportive, but even your unconditional support can't realistically understand their position. Or that's what Hange thinks. They assume as such because your lifestyle is much freer than theirs. You have more time to yourself despite your regular 9-to-5 job. You don't have responsibilities outside of it and your personal life at home. Because of it, you decided to handle the work at the flat; Hange never had time for it anyway, much to their dismay. They had always wanted to help, but their schedule just never allowed it.

After a while, the chores automatically became your responsibility and never theirs. You had no problem with this. Hell, you even enjoyed it—you bonded with Hange's friend Levi over being clean freaks together as you always hated seeing mess. Although the duty of cleaning and keeping everything in check (including Hange and their health) soon became an irksome chore rather than something you enjoyed for the fun of it. The less Hange spent time with you, the more it annoyed you. You felt used, like some sort of maid. It was not a problem when you volunteered in a compassionate understanding of Hange's circumstances, but the least they could do was to make up for it by arriving home early or spending even a moment of intimacy.

But no, they had been so busy about other things that they couldn't provide the time. You hadn't gone out in almost three months to grab something to eat or go somewhere fun like you used to. You would take each other out to places you've never been to before regardless of how low-budget it was. You would have been happy with a simple late night trip to a fast food chain if it meant having your partner to yourself after months of no quality time, but such a trip just never came to be.

Witnessing Hange have a destructive breakdown whenever they came home exhausted was an even bigger problem. They never cried, but they were always so close to it. You would hear their frustration at one o'clock in the morning or through your heavy eyelids after being awoken by their wailing. When it got mentally tough, you would offer to stay up with them for comfort, but you were always sent back to bed or, worse, shut out from their study, where they isolated themselves.

They were awfully good at taking care of anything and anyone but themselves, so you felt the need to do it for them. And overall, the cause of your separation was a problem built on top of another. It was why you were so agitated when Hange could barely spend time with you, but your intentions came out wrong. You had explained all of this to them as you argued, yet they misunderstood your concerns as an insult to their work and commitment to your relationship.

Hange rolled their eyes as you cried. They were tired and had no time for this. They were running late for class and figured it would be cancelled at the last second because of your argument.

"Okay, let's get this over with—"

"You're mean. You're so mean, Hange." You slapped their hand away when they tried to touch you. Hange's face turned sour at your reaction. You were still crying.

"Please, can we just stop this?" they asked, voice sounding impatient. You glared at them with all your anger, but your gaze softened when Hange returned a look, weariness written across their face.

"I would never, ever, do this to you if I lived your life," you said softly. Hange remained silent. "I can do it all for you, so why can't you do it for me?"

You were right. Even with your freer schedule, you kept yourself busy with maintaining things at home that it technically felt like a second job. It didn't help your feelings when Hange was oblivious to the work and effort you did. When they cried to Erwin and Levi about this, the pair had opened their eyes to your side of the conflict and made Hange understand. Truly, they didn't account for a lot of things before ending your relationship: from the responsibility of feeding your cat and cleaning the house to understanding your partner's feelings.

Levi called Hange a moron for making you upset and a four-eyed loser for prioritizing "that nerd shit" over you. He had known Hange since high school and was aware of their insatiable obsession with science, even going as far as to believing that they would earn a Nobel Prize in Chemistry one day. Hence, when you started going out, Levi knew that they had fallen for you deeply, and anything that would break your bond could only be explained by supernatural phenomena or Hange's bewildering stupidity.

That said, Levi did the best he could to make Hange understand your viewpoint while Erwin patched their empty heart with anything but beer, apples, and Levi's special melatonin-infused black tea. Hange felt better having understood your feelings, so the next logical step was to talk it out with you for proper closure.

Except they couldn't.

You had already blocked Hange's number just days after the breakup, and your friends—unsurprisingly—weren't about to offer them any help.

THREE.

"Thanks for all of this, Nanaba."

It turns out that even with Hange's attempts at achieving the perfect work-life balance, they still can't master the duty of being a proper owner for the cat. Hange called Nanaba the day they saw your sticky note on the fridge, and since then, they have been keeping in touch with her for the cat's essentials. Hange has also been trying to manage their time better as a way of retribution that they can do better for your relationship, even though they no longer have any means of telling you (which is the harsh reality that they don't want to accept).

"Pfft, don't question it!" Nanaba pats Hange's shoulder as the cat rubs itself on her legs. "I would do anything for this little one! I've grown to like Ion so much, I want to keep him forever!"

"If only Miche wasn't allergic, I'm sure Ion would love to be your new owner," Hange jokes, mentioning Miche, one of Nanaba's roommates.

"Oh, you're just saying that. I'm sure you're a great owner. Sometimes you simply don't have the time to be perfect, and that's okay!"

Nanaba leaves a few moments later after giving Ion a much-needed head pat. Afterward, Hange and the cat decide it would be best to lounge at the living room couch and stare at the ceiling to absorb the quiet.

Ion struts over to the empty space by Hange's feet and lays his body flat. A few seconds later, he conforms his body into the oh-so-famous "catloaf" position, hiding his limbs and tail under his chunky body. Closing his eyes, Ion drifts off to sleep while a laying Hange watches the feline.

Ion, a male orange tabby Persian cat, is the devil reincarnate who happens to be your and Hange's practice child. Hange remembers you describing Ion to be the real-life twin of Garfield, the fictional cat who happens to be of the same breed. They recall questioning your choice at the adoption center upon hearing your many complaints of the feline's behavior, but you shook your head and snuggled the animal in your neck.

"This one's okay," you told them. The cat purred. "I need a little shit for a cat to entertain myself with whenever you aren't around. Also, it should be good training for a kid in the future."

Hange recalls bringing the cat home after a long day and trying their best to make friends with it. You chose the cat yourself, so it liked you more than it did Hange, but it didn't take long for it to start liking them.

"Hey, it likes me!" Hange cheered to themselves as the cat rested on their chest. You smiled. "I can't wait for it to like me better than you."

"You wish!" you retorted, seething with jealousy.

The cat was nameless for a few days as the both of you tried to come up with the perfect name, opting to call it "The Cat" for the meantime. You were against the common ones in favor of unique names, but you were also against certain names that could fool people into mistaking your cat for a human.

Hange kept suggesting the strangest names that were more often than not derived from scientific terms—you liked most of them, but they sounded too scientific for an orange cat who spends most days lazing around the flat. For lack of a better word, they sounded out of character.

That was only until Hange came home from a productive day at the lab, where they toured a bunch of interns and introduced them to their stations.

"Knock, knock," they began. You didn't reply. "You're supposed to say, 'Who's there?'"

"Is this another orange joke?" you asked. Hange shook their head.

"No! It's even better than that. Knock, knock."

You rolled your eyes, laughing.

"Who's there?"

"Cation."

"Cation who?"

"Can't ion-ly knock once? I'm positive you'll open up!"

You snickered.

"You and your silly jokes. Please don't tell me you were telling the interns knock-knock jokes at the lab all day."

"Ha-ha." Hange laughed slowly. "Wow, you totally figured it out!"

Suddenly, The Cat leaped onto Hange's shoulder, frightening them momentarily before being seized. The Cat struggled in Hange's arms as your partner hadn't learned the proper ways of holding a cat yet, but The Cat eventually nestled on their chest. A bright idea came to mind.

"Hange," you called out to them in excitement. They looked at you, intrigued. "What do you call a meowing ion?"

They thought about it silently.

Once they realized, they held up The Cat in the air, effectively surprising the feline.

"A cation!" they answered. They swayed The Cat around swiftly, confusing the poor animal who had no clue of what was to come. "You're a genius, (Y/N)! We should call this one Ion!"

It was a simple but nice name, one that you liked enough to give your partner the go-signal to name the cat as such. Ion seemed to like his name as he picked up on it quickly. It took him a week to get used to the one-syllable three-lettered name before it occurred to him that his two owners identified him with it.

At present, Hange watches Ion open his eyes and hop on the coffee table, sniffing the black tea they had prepared for themselves (this time, melatonin-free). Suddenly, he spots a particular item on the open shelf by the television and jumps over to inspect it, prompting Hange to move.

"No, Ion, get away from there."

Hange stands up from the couch and walks toward the cat. They heave it from the shelf with skilled hands, but it refuses to be picked up as it clings to a picture frame, its claws digging into the glass. Ion hugs the frame for dear life, but its grasp isn't enough to support the weight. One wrong move and it will fall.

"Ugh, put that down, you little cat! If that breaks, I swear to god!"

They manage to get the item out of its grasp when Ion is distracted. Hange decides to put the frame on their work desk in the study room, the one space in the entire apartment that the mischievous cat rarely enters, and believes it to be a fool-proof plan.

Despite all efforts, however, Ion leaps from Hange's hold and onto their work desk.

"Ion!" They grumble in frustration, seeing the cat sniff the picture frame and sit beside it. The photograph is special; it was a photo of you and Hange on your first anniversary that they never bothered to put down after the breakup because they've been clinging on to the little shimmer of hope that you would come back. It's one of the few traces they have left of you at home (and they're eternally grateful that you decided to leave it), so if the cat breaks it, it's over.

Another wave of sadness washes over them when Ion caresses the glass with his paw. Hange notices how he paws your face in the photograph, clearly missing your presence. They frown.

"I know, Ion. I miss her, too." They rub the cat's fur comfortingly. "I'm sorry for being stupid. If I could let you see her again, I would."

And they mean that. The cat misses you dearly and it breaks Hange's heart to imagine that it probably thinks you're dead. Hange isn't too deep into zoology to know if animals can understand human conflict, but they most likely don't. They suppose cat and human break ups are different.

Ion meows as his owner picks him up with a tight grip. He tries to reach out to the frame once more with his stubby limbs as Hange pulls him away from the desk, but he unleashes his claws in protest and grips Hange's shoulder in a devious attack.

"Ow— what the fuck!" Hange hisses as Ion's claws dig deep into their shoulder. They let go of Ion as he leaps back on top of the table, sitting beside the picture frame once more.

They palm their scratched shoulder, glaring at the cat.

"Alright, you want to stay in here like a sulking loser?! Fine by me!"

Hange leaves the study with the door open and the light fixture turned on just so they wouldn't forget to retrieve Ion later. As they walk to the bathroom to wash the wound and rub it with an ointment, they put on some music with the iPad Mini they rarely use.

When the device connects to their home network, a notification instantly appears on screen.

(Y/N) (L/N) recently added to their story.

Hange stands in front of the mirror, dumbfounded.

Not knowing what to do, they simply stare at the notification with raised eyebrows, feeling their chest get heavier by the second. They have an internal argument with their imaginary shoulder devil, who tempts them into clicking the notification. Nothing can go wrong, right? Well, it's just social media—yet their angelic side knocks into their conscience in hopes of waking them up from the temptation, serving as some sort of warning for any consequence that is to come the moment they snoop around your social media. Hange doesn't do anything long enough for the notification banner to disappear, effectively sealing their decision to ignore it—

Hange clicks on the notification at the last second.

The Instagram app opens, then it loads the first photo you added to your story an hour ago.

Great job, Hange. You're responsible for your actions and for your broken heart! They think.

Once your Instagram story loads, Hange recognizes you in a group photo with your friends from university. Dressed in comfortable clothing and makeup done so beautifully, Hange thinks you look stunning as usual. You look no different from the last time they saw you, but they're not quite sure how you're doing behind the sweet smile you have on your face.

Or perhaps they're just projecting their own sadness and can't fathom the idea of you moving on from them. It's a selfish thought coming from the person who initiated the break up, but they yearn so hard for you to still be in love with them against all odds.

Who's a sulking loser now? They think again.

They tap through your story, thoughts continuing to barrage their mind until the last one catches them off guard.

It seems pretty normal: a photo of the sunset with a song from an artist you like playing in the background, not until they notice the little green icon at the topmost part of the screen. They're still in your Close Friends.

They squint their eyes and read the small text at the bottom of the image.

let me see ion one more time pls. i miss everything

"What the hell?"

Breathing in deeply, Hange steps away from the iPad in shock. Dramatic, they know—and there is absolutely no way that this is real since they have been blocked from your contacts just a few days after the breakup, but knowing you, this is something that you would totally do. And it's not like you voiced out to see them—you wanted to see Ion, the cat. Hange should be jealous that the cat gets your attention in this scenario, but knowing you (yet again), you would never be the one to articulate that kind of desire. Regardless, Hange knows that you still want them. Or they pray that you do.

You must. You have to.

Hange is just surprised that they chanced upon your story since they haven't opened their Instagram account in months, and truth be told, they only had one for the sake of having a social media presence that isn't Facebook. Suddenly, the pain in their shoulder fades away, and their only goal is to find some way to respond without sounding like a selfish asshole.

They should post a story with just you in their Close Friends, something that would totally shock you like how you shocked them. Hange believes it's an amazing plan until they try to execute it. Well, they had never posted anything on their story before. Everything that they ever posted on the platform went directly to their feed which over time became a messy jumbled dump of random photos. They don't have many followers, either. You had once called them a "shitposter" with a "garbage dump of a feed", which tells Hange enough that they probably shouldn't proceed with the plan.

So, they settle for your private messages with a direct reply to your story.

Upon opening your direct messages, however, Hange's heart sinks. You didn't block them on Instagram, much less take down the customized settings in your private chat, so everything stayed the same as before as if nothing ever happened: your nickname is still "My Darling Dearest", while theirs is a matching "my beloved". Your chat theme is still the "Love" theme on Instagram with your back-and-forth messages colored pink.

Hange thinks of what to say, what to type. This will be your first conversation since the breakup, after all. They shouldn't mess it up by saying something stupid.

An idea comes to mind. Hange hurriedly exits the bathroom, iPad Mini in hand, and enters their study. They find Ion in the same position as before, laying beside your picture frame as he paws on your photograph. Hange tucks the iPad in between their armpit and seizes Ion from behind.

"A-ha! Gotcha!" Rejoicing, Hange carries the cat out of the study as he instantly goes feral in their hold. They restrain his paws as much as they can while they talk Ion into doing them a favor. "Please, Ion, don't you want to see your mother again? (Y/N)?"

At the sound of your name, the cat calms down and Hange sighs.

Man, this cat has issues.

With the behaved cat, Hange sits on the couch and places Ion on their lap, belly facing them. The cat looks at them in confusion, watching his owner pull out the iPad and excitedly open the Camera app to take a photo of his vulnerable form.

"Mrao?" the cat asks.

"Just stay still," they order.

Ion makes a face of disapproval and shuts his eyes tightly, stretching his limbs out as he tries to contain his annoyance. He wants to see you again, even if it means just staring at your photograph and burning your image in his head, as opposed to being captured and taken photos of like a show animal. He loves Hange for feeding him and taking care of him, but why would they separate him from you? He misses you so much.

"Looks good enough." Ion hears Hange mumble to themselves. He meows another time in a questioning tone to ask if the job is finally done so that he can go back to admiring your photograph. When Hange puts him down on the ground, he bolts for the study.

Meanwhile, Hange stares at the messages they had sent you on Instagram.

my beloved: Heyy... Ion misses you too... my beloved: Attached Image my beloved: hahahahhaaafh :') Seen

They sound like a nervous wreck, akin to a middle schooler who's confessing to someone for the very first time in fear of rejection. Hange doesn't expect you to reply right away, so they stow away the iPad on the coffee table while they scream into one of the couch pillows to relieve their stress. Suddenly, the device vibrates.

Hange is looking at the notification in no time.

My Darling Dearest: thank you

Their heart leaps out of their chest. You replied. You actually replied. It's a simple thank you that probably doesn't mean much to anyone else, but it means the entire world to them given the current circumstances. Hange breaks into a grin as they stand up from the couch and pace around the living room, rereading your two-word reply over and over again.

my beloved: Of course of course, don't mention it!!! my beloved: Sorry for the exclamation points, I'm not shouting :( Seen

Their celebration ends quickly, however, as Hange curses to themselves upon typing a stupid response with the apology at the end. They take a deep breath. Okay, Hange. Don't mess this up now!

They watch as the read receipt appears at the bottom of their message. A small bubble with three dots appears then disappears every so often. You continue to type for the next 30 seconds and Hange grows anxious.

When you don't reply, their shoulders fall.

"Just my luck," they mutter. Hange is left at read even after six minutes of waiting. At this point, they can't identify the best course of action after getting ignored. They guess that it's better than being left at delivered, and that they should be grateful that you replied in the first place, so they exit the app and admit defeat.

But they come back running a minute later after having realized that they should initiate. Of course you wouldn't want to talk to Hange after they broke your heart—even if you still love them dearly, it's only appropriate if you refrain from any kind of interaction... yet you had replied to their message when you could have just totally ghosted them, removed your cute chat decorations, and blocked them on every social media platform there is to exist.

Hange isn't giving up on your relationship. They can't give up on you.

my beloved: To tell you the truth, I saw your story earlier and I figured that you might want to see Ion again my beloved: I understand if you don't want to see me, but I can drop him off my beloved: He misses mom a lot! D: Seen

Hange observes just how fast you read their message and smiles to themselves when they see you typing. They're glad they pulled the "our-son-misses-you" card as it seemed to be enough to get your attention. Hange looks at their study, remembering the cat who's snuggled up with your photo. Ion would be more than delightful to hear about this.

My Darling Dearest: tomorrow 2 PM. my beloved: Oh okay!! my beloved: May I ask where? 😅 My Darling Dearest: i'm staying at nifa's my beloved: We will be there! Seen

Hange giggles, kicking their feet. They throw the iPad on the couch and run to the study. Picking up Ion from the work desk, they hoist the cat in the air as they celebrate. "We did it! We're seeing (Y/N) tomorrow!"

"Miaow!"

"I know! Okay, I'm giving you a bath tonight." Hange puts him down and lets the cat roam free. Suddenly, they remember that they have work tomorrow. It's currently Sunday afternoon and their workload is calling their name. "Fuck."

Running their fingers through their hair, they shake their head. It shouldn't matter. They have more important things to attend to.

FOUR.

"Look, I'm sorry for being an asshole. I reflected on everything I said the past month and I understand that I was wrong. Please, from the bottom of my heart, can you give me a second chance?"

"Wrrrao!"

"Ugh, get up. We're both bad at this."

Ion meows angrily a second time when Hange picks him up. It's his call of hunger. He demands food and water because he's Hange's (and your) precious cat who can do no wrong, like the king of the flat, the king of everything. Hange situates Ion on their shoulder and lets him balance there as they prepare the cat food that Nanaba had sent yesterday. He smugly watches Hange plate his meal and promptly hops off their shoulder once they put his pet bowl on the ground. While Ion digs into his breakfast, Hange disappears into the bedroom and locks themselves inside to be left alone with their thoughts.

Ever since you consented to seeing Ion—and Hange—yesterday afternoon, they decided to call in sick at work. Once that problem was out of the way (which, to their surprise, was a fairly easy process), they decided to craft an apology to rehearse if they ever find the time to insert a small discussion in your "casual" meeting.

"That's great to hear, Hange!" Erwin told them last night over FaceTime. Hange had to break the news to someone other than the cat, and since Erwin (and Levi) had been there for them since day one, they decided to tell him immediately. They were hoping to get his opinion on the matter, maybe some word of advice and a 101 on "how-to-approach-your-ex-girlfriend". But Erwin was empty-handed, equally clueless as he hadn't been in their shoes before; he never tried to get back together with an ex. He was hopeful, though. "Sorry about that. In any case, I believe you can handle it on your own. No one knows her better than you."

But Hange isn't handling this as well as they'd hoped. Usually quick with words, they thought finding the right ones for their apology would come naturally, but it hasn't. Every attempt feels clumsy, every phrase falls short. The weight of the moment presses on them, and the uncertainty of how this meeting will unfold only makes it worse. It could go right, or it could go wrong—but Hange can't shake the sinking feeling that the odds of success have never felt slimmer.

Hange wonders what's running through your mind. Did you sleep well last night after your conversation? Are your friends warning you it's a bad idea to meet up with your ex? Or maybe you're considering canceling altogether? They figure that's unlikely, though—after all, you've missed Ion like crazy. Your bond with Ion (Hange chuckles softly at their own chemistry joke) is far too strong for you to say no to seeing him. Still, they wouldn't blame you if you canceled. After all, who'd want to face the person who shattered their heart?

Regardless, Hange has been rehearsing countless scenarios, crafting a plan for every possible outcome if things don't go their way. They've already revised their apology at least four times, hoping one version will hit the right note when they see you this afternoon. In one scenario, they picture knocking on your old friend and roommate Nifa's door, leaving Ion on the doorstep, and waiting out of sight until you step outside to find him sitting there, alone on the mat. Then, they'd emerge—calm, composed—and launch into their carefully prepared speech. In another, they imagine standing at the doorway, holding Ion and a bouquet of flowers, their nerves barely hidden. They'd offer you both—flowers and cat alike—with a heartfelt apology for their foolish mistakes, hoping it's enough to bridge the gap they created.

As they sit in silence, though, Hange thinks they're going overboard. You would probably appreciate it if they brought you something other than the cat, but spoiling you with flowers and some other romantic shit when you aren't together anymore just sounds... pathetic. Pitiful. It feels like they're begging for your love through material possessions when they shouldn't. They hurt you with their words, their gestures, so they might as well patch it up by promising to do better and showing it all through their actions.

So Hange arrives with just the cat. No flowers, no chocolates, none of that romantic stuff. Just them, Ion, their keys, and wallet.

Breathing in, Hange rings the doorbell. They arrived pretty early—it's still 1:46 PM, but your and Nifa's old apartment used to be on the other side of town so they had to leave the flat early. As they wait to be let in, they stroke Ion's orange fur and pray to a transcendent being that everything will be okay.

FIVE.

A month away from Hange feels longer than it should have been. A month is a year in your book, and on some days, it feels even longer.

It's the aftermath of a breakup—an unwelcome shadow that lingers over your life. Even with a regular job to keep you busy, Hange's words haunt you, often pushing you to the brink of a breakdown. You can't seem to escape it. The moment you're alone with nothing to distract you, the discomfort creeps in, settling like a heavy knot in your stomach. Whether it lasts three minutes or five, it always ends the same, your tears threatening to spill as the weight becomes too much to bear.

To your luck, your old roommate Nifa had provided you amazing company while you tried to mend your broken heart. You met her in university when you moved out from your hometown and lived within the residence halls for the duration of your undergraduate program. When your friend group expanded, the both of you moved out of the dorms with Abel and Keiji into a four-bedroom apartment near campus, which became your home until you decided to move in with Hange three years ago. Hence, when you stormed out of your apartment after the breakup with nothing but your phone and wallet, Nifa was the first person you called.

She welcomed you to your old home with open arms, followed by Abel and Keiji who came running back home to tackle you into a group hug. You had been away for so long that they almost didn't recognize you—you had grown since you had last seen them five months ago, but you ought to think that it was the stress taking a toll on your body.

The merriment of your return drifted away as you explained to the boys why you visited. They comforted you for the rest of the evening and offered every kind of help. To say they were disappointed about the news was an understatement. Abel and Keiji were upset to learn the details, while Nifa exploded into flames—they found it absurd that Hange broke up with you and not the other way around.

"Seriously, why would someone do that to the sweetest girl out there?!" Nifa exclaimed, eyebrows knitted and face evidently furious.

You agreed with them. It was quite strange that Hange ended your relationship for that reason when it was something you could have made amends with. You had never fought in your relationship as any issue encountered was almost immediately solved with proper communication. It had always been that way since you started noticing Hange's workaholic attitude, which merely turned out for the worst.

You were lonely. On some days, you felt unloved. Hange couldn't spare you a glance as you made breakfast in the morning because they would be working away at the study the moment they woke up. The longest stretch without any real acknowledgment from them lasted four days, and it drove you mad. It was a cycle of waking up, going to work, and going to bed without them, and you had never felt more distant. You tried to invite them out to dinner in hopes of rebuilding your relationship, but you were always politely turned down.

That was arguably the worst part: they weren't mean about it. In fact, Hange seemed genuinely apologetic every time they declined. Yet as the days dragged on, the apologies began to sting. It didn't feel like them to refuse you so often. They had always loved going out with you, and even when work consumed their time in the past, they had always found a way to make room for you. This wasn't the Hange you knew.

What changed? You had wondered. Hange was always running around doing things and you were aware of that. They could never sit still because there was always something that they wanted to work on. You loved that about them; it was what you found interesting about Hange that made you fall for them harder. There is great honor in working so scholarly at a lab day and night and you couldn't be any prouder, but to do so in excess transformed it into a vice that hurt the both of you deeply.

Hange didn't know how to take care of themselves until you came into the picture. Their obsession with constantly working on things hindered them from eating regularly or looking after themselves. When their schedule got tighter the past few months and you witnessed their health deteriorating like a decreasing health bar in a video game, you got mad. Call it motherly girlfriend instincts and whatnot, but you were bothered by it.

"You didn't eat your food." You frowned upon seeing the small container with the food you cooked that morning. "What the— Hange! Why is your water bottle still full?!"

It was excessive. They weren't eating the food you packed them yet they would have the audacity to come up to you a few days later with a growling, aching stomach. "I swear, if you develop an ulcer, what are we going to do?!" You would cook for Hange whenever that happened, whether it be at 10 in the evening or two in the morning. Whenever they needed something, you were up and standing, ready to help them with whatever—and it was exactly why it hurt so much when they couldn't even hang out with you like you used to.

"I can do it all for you, so why can't you do it for me?"

Nonetheless, you didn't want to break up. No, that wasn't the best decision. It never was and it never will be. Hange is a scientist with a passion for learning, so surely they can learn to be better, yet they ended your relationship like they weren't willing to.

And even after weeks of not having Hange by your side, it still pissed you off so much that they couldn't just listen to you or make the commitment to do so. You couldn't suppress your anxiety either. Everyday, you would think about how they're doing without you being there to maintain things at home. You doubt the note you left by the fridge was enough to keep them going. While they eventually had to learn how to do things without you, there's a discomfort at the pit of your stomach that they wouldn't be able to live like normal without you around. Their regular job requires lots of time and attention on top of the many other commitments they have—hell, they probably will struggle with taking care of the cat!

Although the wound in your heart faded as time passed. While you still worried for Hange, your hurt became anger and anger became misery. You were upset—so upset, and you miss Hange (and Ion) so badly. Moving out of your apartment with not even a single word of closure stung so badly as if a part of your soul left and never returned. You would do anything in your power to get back together with them again, but was it a good decision to initiate?

"Especially when they ended it first?" Nifa spoke, rubbing her knees with cold hands as she sat across you on the living room floor. You had asked her if it was a good idea to ever come running back to an ex, to give them a second chance to make things better. "Usually not, but this kind of scenario often plays out for cheaters. Maybe it wouldn't be bad to get back together."

"I second that," Keiji said, seated on the armchair. "If they still don't change, make sure to end it once and for all."

"I wouldn’t initiate it myself," Abel added. Nifa shot him a pointed look, but he continued. "They broke up with you. No offense, but do yourself a favor—don’t go making a fool of yourself chasing after someone when you’re not even sure they want you back. If Hange wants to reconcile, let them do the begging."

You took their advice and followed your heart. You wanted to get back together because you weren't letting a single argument be the end of your relationship, and if Hange didn't want to restore your connection, you at least wanted some form of closure. On top of that, you wanted to see your cat.

So you distracted yourself.

You waited for them to reach out. Right after the breakup, you had blocked Hange's number partly to avoid the inevitable messages, knowing full well they'd try to reach out after a couple of days of silence. But you weren't ready to talk at the time, so their contact remained blocked for an entire week while you sorted through your emotions and sought advice from your friends. Eventually wanting to hear from them, you unblocked their number and left the door open for them to message you, but to your dismay, the days passed in silence and Hange hadn't reached out at all.

You looked through your private messages on different platforms yet you didn't receive any word from them. Your heart sunk at the revelation. Maybe Hange didn't want to talk to you. After all, they hid themselves inside their study when you came back to the apartment the morning after the breakup to pack your things into boxes. Maybe Hange truly didn't want to talk.

Grief consumed you in the days that followed, yet you couldn't bring yourself to reach out, afraid it would only deepen your pain. If nearly three weeks had passed without a word from Hange, it had to mean they were done with you, didn't it? Still, you clung stubbornly to the faint hope that they'd reach out one day. As the silence stretched on, however, the weight of waiting became too much to bear, and you knew you had to do something about it.

You couldn't stand it anymore. Waiting around for nothing just made you more anxious than you already were, so off to Instagram you went, removing everyone in your Close Friends except Hange. You knew they rarely spent time online except for networking sites like LinkedIn and ResearchGate, but you wanted to send some kind of signal without being too obvious.

You had gone out with your roommates the day you posted the story, so if Hange ever decided to open their Instagram after months of inactivity, it wouldn't be too obvious that you posted. When the post went through, you held your breath and ditched your phone to calm your raging nerves.

Will it work? Will they even see it? You thought to yourself, hopeful about the outcomes.

After an hour of waiting, however, you didn't hear anything from them. No view receipt, no new message, nothing. It didn't hurt that much since Hange rarely opened Instagram in the first place, but you were hoping that they would at least have the idea of coming online to check your account. Yet their account showed no activity, the green dot at the side of their profile picture missing every time you checked.

Suddenly, your phone vibrated. A notification went through.

my beloved Heyy... Ion misses you too...

The rest was history. You managed to arrange a meeting with Hange the following day under the guise of meeting Ion, but you hadn't done so without prancing around your room like a panicking idiot. You hadn't told anybody about posting your story in fear of jinxing things, so you replied to Hange with no one's help but yourself.

Now, you sit at the dining table with your roommates, who bicker over Keiji's homemade lunch about a manga series they've been following. You eat your food in silence as you think of a way to tell your friends that you had invited Hange over for a casual meeting in two hours, but you're left dry with ideas.

Eventually, it comes out of your mouth.

"What?" Abel mumbles to himself, freezing midair with the serving spoon and a bowl of chicken in his hands. Keiji drops his fork.

"You did what?!" Nifa screeches, followed by an apology from Abel for her indecency. "Girl, I— sorry, you invited them here? Like, you aren't joking?"

"Listen, I"—you gulp—"I invited them because I wanted to see the cat."

"Never mind the cat. Your ex is still coming," Nifa points out.

"Of course, I know that—"

"Are you sure about this?" Abel asks. Your eyes fall down to your plate. "Just so we're clear, we're not mad at you for having them over."

"I understand," you reply.

"We're worried for you."

"I understand that, too," you say. Abel is silent. "Look, I know it sounds dumb, but I promise I didn't invite them over just like that. I truly did want to see Ion and I wasn't expecting a reply."

"What did you do?" Keiji asks. You tell him about your elaborate plan and he nods his head in approval. "Wow. You have insane luck."

"I do, and I just— I meant it when I said that I didn't expect it, okay? You all know Hange, they're... chronically offline. Not that good with social media."

Nifa snorts. "Yeah, you could say that again. I'm surprised they even knew how to reply to an Insta story." Mashing her chicken with her fork, she clears her throat. "Well, I guess we should get going ASAP."

"You aren't mad?" you ask, surprised.

"I don't see the point. You should live your life the way you want to," she says. "Also, it makes us feel better that you're here because of a misunderstanding and not any of that cheating bullshit."

"I would have ripped their throat out if you had come here for that." Keiji seethes. You giggle.

"Don't worry. You'll never have to."

"Ugh, why am I tearing up?" Nifa dramatically pauses. She lets go of her utensils and leans over to your side. "God, come here for a hug!"

"Group hug!" Keiji rejoices, his hands automatically locating your head and giving you a couple of pats. Abel follows suit, leaning next to you.

"Just don't hurt yourself," he says as he embraces you back. Keiji and Nifa nod.

"I won't. I promise."

SIX.

Your roommates left the apartment after they finished cleaning up. They promised to hang out for a few hours at a nearby café and that they would be one call away in case you needed anything. They trusted that you and Hange won't go batshit crazy at the apartment, but if it ever came down to that, Keiji and Abel promised to arrive in three minutes tops.

The clock ticks by as the silence envelopes the apt. You're sitting on the arm of the couch as you bounce your knee impatiently. It's 1:45 PM, exactly 15 minutes before your scheduled meeting, yet you're already stationed by the door.

You inhale sharply when the doorbell rings.

Standing from the couch, you approach the entrance. You look through the peephole to check the new arrival, and your heart swells upon seeing a patch of orange fur in Hange's arms.

It's now or never.

You open the door.

"Hi. I'm here, like you asked... ha-ha." Hange laughs slowly, the awkwardness sinking in. When silence falls in the air, they look at the cat and offer him to you. "Um, anyway, here's Ion, the cat. Our cat... that we, um, co-parent together— sorry, was that term triggering? Whatever. Anyway, here he is— oh, uhuh, yep— Ion, relax!"

Ion leaps into your arms the moment he realizes that you're in front of him. You look the same as the last time he saw you, your features still recognizable by his little cat brain. Ion is also delighted to see that you aren't crying anymore. When you dashed in and out of the apartment a month ago with tears falling on your face, he couldn't handle the fear and confusion that consumed him.

The moment you catch the cat, you hold him close to your chest and snuggle his head into your shoulder. Ion does so obediently, sniffing you in the process to refresh his memory with your scent. Hange watches the scene unfold in front of them, their heart warming up and a big smile appearing on their face as Ion happily purrs in your hold. Leaning on the door, they allow themselves to get lost at the warm sight in front of them, nostalgic of the domestic life with you and your feline child.

When Ion calms down, you thank Hange sheepishly.

"Well," you start after a few seconds of quiet, "are you just going to stand there?"

"Oh." Hange's eyes shoot up. "You want me to...?"

You sigh. "Just come in."

Hange follows your request and slowly walks in the apartment. As you close the door, they look around to observe. So much has changed since the last time they visited. It's a much bigger space compared to your shared one on the other side of town to house four people, and although your creative touch is initially unrecognizable as opposed to the old days, Hange figures out that if they look hard enough, they can see your touches here and there—the flower vase at the foot of the TV and the little figurines inside the glass shelf by the dining room corner are household articles that only they can recognize in familiarity.

"Are your roommates home?" they ask. You shake your head. "So that leaves the both of us here... alone?"

You sit yourself on the couch and release Ion to let him explore the apartment. Hange cautiously occupies the space beside you, leaving some space in between to make things less awkward.

You bat your eyelashes. Nodding your head, you purse your lips and decide to let your actions do the talking. You still aren't sure if you want to initiate the conversation, so you leave the opportunity for Hange to grab.

And they notice. Taking a deep breath in, Hange decides it's the perfect time to address the elephant in the room.

"I'm sorry," they say softly. Rubbing their hands together, they decide at the last second to ditch their script and just go for it. You listen intently. "I thought about it after you moved out. I've done wrong in the past, but this has to be the pinnacle of my mistakes. I was mad, and I didn't realize the weight of my words until you left... I'm sorry."

"Is that all?"

"No." They shake their head. "Of course not. I would say more, but it gets overwhelming." Hange turns their head to the side and meets your eyes for the first time in a month. You allow them to look. "What do you want to know?"

You shift in your seat.

"Why you broke up with me." Hange looks away when they hear the sadness in your voice. "Why you thought breaking up was the best decision at that time."

"I didn't," they say. "I eventually regretted it. I still do."

"But you just let me be." You frowned. "You didn't... you didn't chase after me, you didn't run after me when I left the next day. I didn't even receive a single message after two weeks—"

"You know I wanted to," Hange cuts you off, looking back at you with a pained expression. "But I had to stop myself. I couldn't start begging you to come back without considering your feelings. What kind of person would that make me, if not even more selfish?"

They lean forward, elbows on their knees as they stare into nothingness. "I was angry. Stubborn, but angry. When you nagged at me, I just— I just wanted you away. I didn't want to be disturbed and it annoyed me when you did because I was working. I did it to push you away even though it wasn't the best decision."

"That was a mistake, Hange," you remark. Hange mutters a quick, "I know," in response. "Did you think that I could do better?"

"You could say that. For the longest time, I never thought of one to be less sufficient than the other. We were great, but I couldn't meet your needs as well as before when things were becoming busy." Hange rests their forehead on the heels of their palms and shuts their eyes. "I wanted focus. I didn't want distractions, and more importantly, I was tired."

Expression turning sour, you say, "Distraction? Our relationship was a distraction, was that it?"

"It," Hange hesitates, "it was what I thought."

Leaning back on the couch, you look away from Hange as their words sink in. Your eyes well up with tears, an irksome occurrence amid the exchange. You promised yourself earlier that you wouldn't cry as you had already done enough in the past few weeks, but they just come, and you make no effort to stop them.

"Even after everything I did?"

Hange heeds the hurt in your voice, prompting them to come closer in response for comfort.

"I-I'm sorry. I promise you, I thought things out when you were gone and I regret it. I really do!"

"A distraction," you choke out. "Ugh, god. I've never heard that one before."

"I'm sorry..." Hange says for the nth time that day. They try to come closer to see your face, but you avoid them. "I didn't have my priorities straight. I always made time for you in the past, but I just got so obsessed and I— I'm so sorry."

No response. You let your tears run while you cry in silence. Hange doesn't know what to do and the panic settles in.

"Hey… I realized how hard it was to live without you, so I'm here to talk it out." You sniff. Hange is starting to crumble. "Baby, I'm a difficult person who had an easier life because of you. In hindsight, you were no distraction. I thought that way because I was an obsessive freak, and I hate myself for hurting you! I've gotten even crankier to the point of drinking Levi's melatonin black tea, and— and—"

Ion suddenly hops on you, finding his normal spot on your lap before you decided to one day disappear from his life. Surprised, you let the cat sit on your lap as he meows anxiously at the tension in the air. Hange breathes in.

"The cat!" They cry. "The cat misses you! He scratches me like I'm a walking cat scratcher every time he demands to see you. He's been wondering where his mother went because she hasn't been home in a month!"

Hange watches Ion purr against your touch, enjoying your company as he realizes that you aren't dead after all, just gone for a very long time. He turns around from his seated position on your lap to lay on his back, his tummy showing and vulnerable to you, a sign of trust toward his owner.

Hange's heart sinks another time when you pull Ion close after wiping your tears away, a bittersweet pang reminding them of the days when they could simply glance at you and the cat, content in the quiet comfort of your shared space as they worked in their study. For what feels like the hundredth time that day, regret wells up, filling the hollow ache in their chest. If it weren't for your presence keeping them anchored, they might have broken down completely right then and there.

"I'm sorry," they choke out as they gently reach for your hand and hold it in theirs, possibly for the final time. They know there isn't a single word, phrase, or sentence out there that can articulate the graveness of their apology, but they hope to get it across as much as they can. "I'm an asshole for coming here in the first place, but if it means getting proper closure and allowing our cat to see you again, I don't regret it. I hope you can forgive me for invading your space."

You sigh. "That's enough, Hange."

"Huh?" They drop your hand in response, afraid of what's to come.

"I get it. You're sorry for what you did." Ion rolls around in your lap, soon standing on his hind legs with his forelegs reaching out to you for a hug. You hug him back. "I'm just, um, I'm just worried now, and I've been worried. How were you? Were you doing okay?"

Hange exhales in relief. "Dear, you didn't have to worry about me."

You frown.

"No, love. I want to worry about you. What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn't?" Hange's heart skips a beat when you call them with the term of endearment. "So? How was life then?"

"I reached the conclusion that being single isn't good for me." They pout. They hold your hand again. "I struggled so much alone. I survived, but surviving isn't living. Life felt empty when I didn't have the sweetest girl making me happy."

"You're just saying that."

"No, I mean it! I love living with you, I love loving you. I know I can do that even when we're not together, but it makes my life so much fuller when you're in the picture."

They look down at Ion, who looks at them from his peripheral vision like he's judging them dramatically.

"You and Ion, of course."

"Mrrao!"

Snuggling with Ion, you kiss his nose. He purrs back in contentment.

"I just... I didn't feel as loved as I used to," you say. "I love living my life knowing that it's you who I end up with, but I must have loved you too hard. Maybe I love you too much because I want to spend more time with you, to always be around you."

"And you aren't selfish for that," Hange declares. "You deserve to be loved for the woman you are and for the love you give. You did so much for me, yet I didn't pay you back. You had every right to complain. Now that you have, I hope to make things right and compensate you for all the times I acted so dumbly. I'll make time for you again and I'll take care of myself better—I promise."

"But how do I know that you're telling the truth?" you whisper. Second chances are hard to come by. To give an ex this special chance to make things right doesn't happen to just anyone, and it rarely even works out the second time around. What is Hange willing to do for you when you've already done so much for them? "Tell me what you're willing to do. How do I know, Hange?"

"Because I called off everything I had to do today just to come here." Hange smiles a bit. That's your cue to realize that they did, indeed, skip work today just to visit you and iron things out. It's a Monday afternoon, and Hange could have simply taken a half-day shift, but they decided against it entirely. "And, as a matter of fact, I would do it again, and again, and again."

"Oh, Hange, don't waste your—"

"No, no! You got the wrong idea!" they exclaim. "I'm not going to take the entire week off just to prove a point briefly and go back to being a douchebag the following week. I figured that, out of everything, temperance is a virtue that I should work on. I want to be there for you when you need me and I will be there."

Your tears have dried at this point, having left a puffy texture on your eyes. Hange carefully massages your hand in theirs as you find the right words to say.

"Promise me this, Hange."

"I promise."

"Then kiss me if you want to seal it."

With a big grin on their face, Hange leans forward and wraps their hands around your body, laughing softly as Ion looks up in between the both of you with curious eyes. Hange pats his head, mumbles a quick apology to the cat, and kisses you gently with that silly grin still on their face. You kiss them back slowly, heart warming up to the sweet moment of having your partner back into your life to complete your little family of three.

Hange pulls away, but they stay close to you, their hands cupping your face. "I missed you so badly."

"I missed you, too. Being away from you killed me more than being with you all the time. Believe it or not, it felt more toxic." You sigh. "I want to move back in, but you need to give me a few days to… well, process things."

"Of course, take your time as needed. I can't just steal you a second time from your roommates, you know?" Hange jokes as they stroke your cheek.

"I stole you from Erwin and Levi," you deadpan, "but yes, it should be fine. Just give me time to say goodbye and pack my things."

Hange looks over to the side. A part of them feels guilty for taking you away from your roommates so easily. "You don't have to move in right away if you still want to stay here for a bit, you know? I respect your decision if you think it's too fast."

You shake your head cutely. "Cut that out! We need to pay our bills soon and I have to cuddle Ion in bed!"

"Huh? But what about me?" They frown out of jealousy. Ion yawns, like he's telling them to get over it. "Cheeky cat."

"You'll get even better cuddles." You giggle. Hange laughs along, completely missing the innuendo. They're just happy to hear you giggling again. "To start, would you like a complete family hug? Maybe you'd even want to stay for a bit. The guys won't be going home unless I tell them to—"

"Are you joking? I would love to!"

If you found Hange clingy before you broke up, then you certainly find their behavior ten times more excessive now. Upon your request, they rest their body on yours, placing their head on your chest and feeling the rise and fall of your calm breaths. They pet the cat next to them, whom Hange believes to have smiled as well when he notices your physical contact. They're right—Ion is happy. He's satisfied seeing that his two owners are back together, and that neither of you are crying anymore.

As they lay on your chest, Hange lets their mind go numb. They lay in silence, keeping their delighted reactions to themselves when you would fiddle with their hair or play with their fingers. The moment is spent in quietude, but it's perfect—the ideal time for Hange to solemnly swear to the gods, the transcendent beings, to themselves, most especially, that they will never let you go.

There are only so many people in the world that they get along with, let alone be so open to the idea of loving. Hange vows to stay true to their words, to treat you better—kiss you better—as you have always deserved.

ctto for the cat photo (via pinterest)

also i saw this tweet while writing and i just NFDHBFHD THIS IS SO ACCURATELY HANGE IN THIS FIC LMAO

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joelsmochi · 2 years ago

Text

Joel Miller — There You Go

warnings: post-apocalypse, pre-ellie, age change + gap (joel is 53, reader is 33), smut (minors dni), unprotected piv sex + creampie, outdoor/public sex, reader has a thing for joel’s hands, joel has a thing for reader being a pillow princess, joel also has a thing for praising reader, joel loves spoiling reader what more can i say, definitely ooc joel, pet names (baby, pretty girl, doll, etc.), dirty talk, vanilla sex (? should this even count as a warning LMFAO), possessive!joel (only a little it's kinda cute), fluffy!joel, probably an over-usage of the word “pretty”, i always lazy proofread so there may be some typos <3 wc: 4k a/n: there are so many mean!joel or rough!joel smuts (don’t get me wrong i be eating that shit up!) so i thought i’d do something a lil different & give y’all a sweet and endearing joel smut <3 this is lowkey inspired by the scene from jason’s lyric + inspired by a comment i saw where someone said pedro/joel would definitely talk you through it .-.

masterlist

“The sun feels so good,” I think aloud. “Come lie down! You should try it!” I glance over at Joel who is cleaning the pot that we just ate dinner out of.

“You’re gonna get sunburnt,” is all he says. I don’t respond, enjoying the warm blanket the sun is providing. A few minutes later I hear him sit next to me which makes him block the sun from my face so I open my eyes and smile up at him.

He and I aren’t that close, but it never hurt to try and grow closer with him—sometimes he’d give in and laugh with me, but most of the time it was like talking to a brick wall that occasionally grunted at you or rolled its eyes. I understand though. I’m sure he lost someone he loved so deeply and that kind of shit changes you. I’ve lost more people than I can count and no matter how much you try to prepare for it, you’re just never ready. That’s why I always try to get him to smile, I want him to know that someone still cares about him even if he doesn’t care for anyone anymore.

But I know he does. I know for a fact that he cares about me. He never let’s me hold him when we’re trying to sleep but the second I hear his breaths deepen I always wrap my arms around him and he shuffles his back deeper into my body. I loved the way he was too emotionally calloused to warm up to me because it makes me want to fight harder for him which reinforces the fact that I care about him.

“Thank you for dinner, you sure know how to whip up some twenty-year-old ravioli,” I joke.

He just nods and looks at the trees in front of us.

“How old were you when this all started? Thirty-two?”

“Thirty-three,” he corrects.

“Hmm, same age I am now.”

“Ain’t that a bitch?” He huffs, clearly exhausted from our hike. I sit up in front of him and grab his hands; he tries to pull back while giving me a dirty look so I just grip him harder. “What are ya doing?” He asks.

“Holding your hands,” I say with a cheeky tone and a grin.

“Why?”

“Because I think about touching ‘em all the time,” I tease.

He takes a few breaths, watching to see if I break my smile. “You think… About my hands?”

“Mm-hmm,” I hum, “I think about your fingers.” I hold one of his hands up to my face and analyze his digits, memorizing the cuts and bruises and wrinkles along them. Even though my words are true, I still played as if I were joking endearingly, but the more I looked at his fingers the more complicated it got. I feel my nipples perk up underneath my tank top from the cool breeze and… Well, from being horny. “I think you’re a cool guy,” I say after looking at him and dropping his hand.

“Why?”

Shrugging, I say, “Because you take care of me. You teach me a lot.”

His eyebrows rise and force wrinkles onto his forehead. “I teach you a lot?”

I hum again, nodding slowly and blinking even slower not able to hide my true intentions anymore. “Yeah, you… Taught me how to use a gun safely… You taught me how to get past an infected… You taught me how to hunt a buck.”

“Shit your parents shoulda taught ya when your were a kid,” he retorts, letting me know he doesn’t see my desperation.

“Maybe,” I whisper. I carefully move onto my hands and knees, slowly crawling closer to him. “Maybe I was just meant to have you as my teacher.” The look in his cold eyes shifted yet he continues to leave me confused. I may be overstepping here, but his lack of resistance only urges me to push further and further. I bat my eyelashes at him and reach my nose just in front of his. “You could even teach me how to fuck.”

His eyes bat shut and he exhales as if he were committing the worst of sins. His eyes reopen after a few quiet seconds and they flicked between both of my own eyes. His cold irises were now warm with dilated pupils and his pulse is beating so strong I could see it pump against the skin along his collarbones. I glance at his lips more than once and press one of my hands to his thigh.

“Is this okay?” It comes out shakier than I intended it to as my breathing feels much heavier than before. Joel makes me feel so small but in the best way possible. It’s as if he were my sworn protector and I could always count on him to be there for me. Like a lovestruck twenty-year-old, I cling to him in my most desperate of times even though he pretends to hate it. I could tell he likes having someone to take care of, and I love that he takes care of me.

Hesitating, he nods and carefully reaches for my forearms.

“You sure?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he whispers sounding more desperate than me.

I can’t help but simper at both his confirmation and touch, finally touching my nose to his. A knot twists deeply into my stomach, and my chest fills with waves of nervousness. “I’ve only done it a couple times,” I whisper.

“That’s okay,” he hums against my lips, his chest rumbling at the low vibrations from his voice. “I’ll teach you.”

I snicker and giggle at his words earning the sweetest smile I’ve ever seen on him in the time I’ve known him, then he presses his lips to mine so softly I thought I was imagining it. The smack of his warm mouth dazes me momentarily and I grasp onto his shoulders before completely falling into his touch. He lies back onto the blanket and encapsulates my body with his thick legs and firm arms. He whines into my mouth and holds onto my waist as if I would fall apart if he let go.

I pull away after a while to look down at him, wondering how we should start. It’s been well over a decade since my last time and I don’t want to disappoint Joel.

“Lie down,” he instructs while admiring my flustered look.

I do as he says and allow him to take my shoes off, which he does so carefully. I always pegged Joel to be a bit rougher, and eager for it, especially after a long time of waiting.

His fingertips nuzzle the hairs along my calves and thighs up until they reach the hems of my shorts and this is where my expectations become true; he wraps his fingers into the folds and tugs gently, probably trying to pace himself, but the rise and fall of my chest catch his attention and his patience runs out. He yanks my button undone and doesn’t even bother taking my shorts off, he just slips his hand inside to feel around. I prop myself up with my elbows to get a better view of everything. He strokes the stubble along my pelvis, then around my clit, dipping down to my entrance and slightly parting my lips to see how ready I am.

I inhale at the feeling of his warm finger coming into contact with my cool precum, locking eyes with him to watch the subtleties in his face change at every new feeling he notices. He just barely whispers, “Fuck,” when he rises his finger to my clit. He gives it a gentle stroke and watches me breathe slowly for him. “You’re doing so good, staying still like that for me,” he praises. I bite my lip and confidently smile at him. He starts to rub soft circles onto my skin, eliciting a gentle coo from me. The space between my eyebrows tightens at the relief and my eyes close softly. “Fuck, look at’ya… So eager for me already, huh?” I look at him and nod. “Tell me how bad you want it, doll.”

“Do you remember the night we first met?” I ask between moans. “And I had that cut on my arm that you had to clean and wrap? All I could do was stare at your fingers and—and imagine how good they would feel rubbing my clit the way you’re doing right now. It was the first night I had touched myself in almost a year.”

He squints at me sharing this information and rewarding me with more pressure from his fingers. “And how often do you touch yourself now?”

“In the past two years I’ve known you?” I sheepishly ask; he nods and halts his moving fingers. Desperately wanting him to keep going, I shout, “Almost anytime I get left alone for longer than ten minutes.”

“Since we’re being honest…” He leans down to my ears to whisper, “…Sometimes I leave you alone to touch myself as well.” He takes his hand out of my shorts to slide them off of me.

He looks around the trees, and I do the same to make sure no one living or infected is around; once we’re sure it’s clear he sits to remove his boots which I laugh when it starts to take a long time. I reach for his shirt buttons, undoing them carefully as a few were hanging literally by a thread. I push his flannel shirt off of his arms while he finally kicks his boots off, then he hovers his head over mine and just barely pushes his pants down to reveal his swollen cock. I reach for it despite my intimidation at the girth but he stops me, guiding me to lie down again.

“Joel?”

“Yes, baby?” He asks against the skin above my collarbone whilst placing lovely kisses all over my neck.

“It’s really big,” I say tensely, laughing at myself.

He gives me a juicy kiss and shares a winsome look with me. “I’ll be gentle if you want,” he promises. I barely smile, not realizing how harshly my nails are digging into his arm. I give him a slight nod and spread my legs slowly for him. “I promise I’ll be real nice to your pretty pussy.”

I lift my head up to kiss him again and he shifts to rest his body weight on top of me with his hand reaching between our bodies to line his tip up with my entrance. His tongue folds over my lips and into my mouth restlessly and I feel his hips push forward against me. I prepare myself for the discomfort, squeezing my eyes tightly and pulling away from the kiss to brace myself.

It’s difficult to breathe with my ribcage pushing against him and I feel him leave a trail of kisses along my jawline in an attempt to soothe me. I constantly squeeze around his thick cock, trying to ignore the slight burning and get used to the pain faster. He notices how long I remain tense and anxious, so he taps my cheek gently with his fingers and I open my eyes to look at him which relaxes almost every nerve in my body.

“Just relax, honey, okay? Can you do that for me?” My eyes roll to the back of my head as his raspy voice continues to beg me to relax. “Hmm? Can you relax for me, baby girl?” He pulls back a little and begins to slowly pump himself in and out of me, chuckling as he watches my body actively relaxing around and beneath him. “There you go… There you go… Here.” He adjusts his knees to be flush against the back of my thighs and moves my arms and legs to wrap around his back. “How’s this?”

I wait for him to start moving again, noticing the difference in closeness. “Yes!” I hiss. I feel his hand pop my boobs out of the top of my tank top and I look to his fingers to watch them rub against the sewn-in rose in the middle of the shirt, but soon enough his hand cups my boob and gives it a delicate squeeze. I notice my pussy get wetter at the steady pace he is going at, feeling the curve of his cock hit the deeper parts of me.

“That feel good, baby?”

“Yes, Joel,” I moan. I slide the straps of my shirt off of my arms to get a better grip on him making him smile at the now bunched-up fabric around my waist. All I can do is moan and roll my eyes back and forth at his cock filling me up repeatedly. With my thighs trembling around his hips, my nails digging into his back, and my back arching deeper into the ground, he lifts his upper half off of me more than likely to see me—all of me.

He drives his hips faster, not fully entering inside of me but using the curve of his shaft to his advantage. As my hands flail around either gripping the sheet or his arms, I accidentally dig my knees into his stomach, and I can tell it’s hurting him but he doesn’t stop.

“Come on, baby,” he grunts, somehow managing to go even faster, “cum for me, pretty girl, I can feel it—oh, look at’cha!”

I whine at the ticklish feeling of his tip rubbing against my g-spot, feeling sudden shocks in my nerves from my stomach to my feet. I feel my muscles stop squeezing around him and start pushing against him as my orgasm creeps up. Joel hunches over to pop one of my nipples into his mouth adding waves of electricity to swim through the rest of my body.

“Joel, I—“

“Shh, shh shh shh,” he mumbles against my breast. “Look at me, darlin’. Hold onto me.” My fingers wrap into his curls and I watch his eyes trail over my face. I feel myself fall over the edge and into my orgasm, and his words seem to only exist to intensify this burst of energy. “God, look at you cumming for me—oh, my God, I can feel it," he repeats. "I can feel you cumming, it feels so fucking good."

“Yeah?” I whimper. “Fuck, please don’t stop!” He grunts and gets a bit more sloppy with his thrusts which help ride out the rest of my orgasm. I release his hair and drop my legs down next to his, feeling soreness spreading throughout my thighs from them being stretched. “Do you want to switch?” I ask after seeing how tired he is.

He pretty much pouts and shakes his head, cupping my face in one of his hands. “No, baby. I wanna take care of you,” he says. “You look so pretty in the sun.”

I blush to thank him, then take his scruffy face into my hands and give him a few kisses until they turn into our tongues dancing together. I moan at the taste of his skin, pushing my hips down to get his shaft deeper inside of me.

He listens to my body and instead of thrusting he rocks his hips after resting some of his weight on me again. I feel the layers of sweat from both of us stick his skin to mine but we just ignore it. All I care to focus on are his groans and the way his cock fits so perfectly inside of me.

“I was made just for you,” I moan, reaching out to run my hands along the hair on his chest.

He shoves one of my legs up on his shoulder, bending forward to somehow fuck me even deeper. “You were made just for me?” He asks, kissing the inside of my knee.

I mewl out, cursing at how smoothly his hips continue to roll in between my thighs. “Yes, Joel!” I shout when he shoves his dick all the way inside of me, stopping once he presses against my depths. “My pussy was made just for you!”

I watch his pretty eyes roll under his twitching eyelids, and he whimpers. He actually fucking whimpers. I gasp at his shaft throbbing inside of me and cradle the back of his head.

He lifts himself to his knees again, forces my legs to spread apart, and pulls out. “Fuck, baby,” he groans with furrowed eyebrows. “You keep talking like that you’re gonna make me cum too fast.”

Grinning wide, I sit up and turn around to my hands and knees like earlier. I figured a change in position could help excite things a bit more, plus my ass is starting to hurt. I moan and giggle while I tauntingly wave my ass for him to grab. Instead, he yanks my knees back knocking me down to my stomach which admittedly hurt a little bit, but I didn’t care. I finally got to have Joel and that was all I needed.

He pushes my legs apart with his chest pressing against my back. I shudder at his warm breath on my sweat-covered cheek and ear, flinching when he nibbles on my lobe—not from pain, but surprise. He moves down to bite my shoulder, then my spine before I feel his hand push his thick cock back inside of me.

I kick my limp legs up to meet his wide thighs and lay my face against the ground. He fucks me like he’s desperate for me to know how strong he is, how weak he can get me. I arch my neck up for my lips to meet his chin; listening to his little whimpers has my entire body weak for him. I didn’t want the noises to stop, I don’t want him to stop.

“Oh, baby,” he whimpers some more, “you feel so good. S-oh good.” His breath is shaky as are his words.

“I want you to cum inside of me, Joel,” I beg before pecking his chin. I relax the arch in my neck to instead bury the back of my head into his shoulder. He stops for a few seconds to absorb my words, using this time to wrap his arms below and around my stomach. “I love the way you fuck me,” I whisper against his jaw. “You make me feel so good, baby.”

“That’s my job, honey,” he tells me, thrusting a couple of times. “Oh sh—oh my God,” he mewls. He bites my cheek which makes me giggle and turn my head to kiss him. He starts to drill in and out of me while our lips fold over each other, our moans and begs and whimpers falling out occasionally. I feel that bubble growing inside of me again just itching to be popped, and I completely crumble when he says, “You take my cock so good, princess, I know you got another one in ya.”

I can’t even speak whilst he wraps his strong hand around my neck to hold my head up rather than to choke me. I cry out his name shallowly and squeeze around him so tight I’m sure his cock started to ache. He curses into my neck, not letting up on my pussy one bit. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love it.

“You look so fucking pretty when I fuck you. Look at how helpless you are, fuck. You’re mine, pretty girl.”

“I love the way you fuck me, Joel,” I say breathlessly as my orgasm doesn’t let up.

“My sweet girl,” he coos in my ear. “Keep talking to me, mmm, I love hearing you beg for it.”

By this point, I am suffering from the pain of overstimulation, which I never thought could hurt so bad but feel so damn good at the same time. “You’re so good to me, Joel,” I tell him doubtlessly. “I want you to cum for me, please.” His body jerks a few times and it instills confidence in my tone. “I want you to use me… Use me to cum, please…”

“You want me to cum in that pretty pussy a’yours? Hmm?” He cuddles his face into my shoulder blade, striving to reach even deeper inside of me. “Turn around. I wanna see you,” he whispers; I turn around and he lifts me onto his lap, still standing on his knees. His burly forearms manage to hold me up enough for him to keep doing all of the work, but by this point, I was thankful for it with how much he’s worn me out. “You take my cock s’good. Look at your pretty face, your pretty little helpless face.”

I watch as he takes his lip between his teeth into his weeping mouth, breathless gasps leaving my own. He looks so majestic with how the sun casts subtle shadows along his face; his vulnerability coats the look in his eyes as his face begins to relax which tells ms he is close. His nails dig into my spine and he looks to me for reassurance.

I run my fingertips over Joel’s broad shoulders and blink slowly, drawing my tongue out to lick his lips briefly. “Can you cum for me, baby?” I ask softly.

“Yes,” he says, heavily nodding his head. “Anything for you, honey.” He kisses me swiftly, smiling at me and stroking my thumb over his cheekbone. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

We both moan out little praises against each other's faces and lips and sometimes kiss roughly. My chin burns from his stubble but I don’t pull away from him. I don’t want to. I just want to feel all of him.

He tells me he’s going to cum once more and I say, “Look at me, baby. Look at me when you cum.”

I hold his head still in my hands and rock my hips against his, but he stops me by pushing my hips into him and holding me there. I whine but allow it, cockily grinning at him when I feel his warm cum paint my walls. He is a whimpering mess, cowering his face to my chest. His body twitches underneath my legs and his hands fall to my ass, squeezing it enough to lift my hips up and back down a couple of times. Grunting when he finishes, he peels his face from my skin to smile down at me after lying me down carefully. He looks around for a moment before pulling out and laying next to me.

“Sorry, I got a little carried away,” he says, still out of breath.

I look over at him and twist to my side. “It’s okay. I know you like taking care of me.”

“Do I now?”

I nod and hum. “You’ll never say it, but I know you do.”

Joel also turns onto his side to stare at me. “I like taking care of you,” he admits with a hoarse voice. He reaches to pull my shirt straps back over my arms before covering my boobs, then grabs my panties to slide them up my legs but stops when he gets to my vulva just to place a kiss on it. He half-dresses himself before pulling my warm legs onto his lap; I sit up to get more comfortable and stare at his hands massaging my legs. “Your face is sunburnt,” he tells me.

I touch my cheekbone and flinch when I feel it is indeed sunburnt. “Dammit.”

“Doll, I want ya to know that this doesn’t mean nothing to me. It isn’t nothing, I mean… It’s something… If you want it to be.”

“Something?” I question with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah…” He shrugs, looking back down at my legs. “If you want.”

I crawl into his lap, responding to him with a loving kiss. “I want you. Not something.”

“Oh, pretty girl…” He moves some hair from my face and bashfully smiles at me. “You already got me.”

#joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller fluff #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #tlou smut

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seivsite · 1 year ago

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okioki so i was listening to "from the start" by laufey and started daydreaming to it LMFAO

so im thinkingggg maybe a drabble with blade or dan heng where reader secretly pines over them. one day reader is alone in a room and theyre listening to this song and they start singing along and getting really into it. then when they turn around they see blade/dan heng watching them and they're like "so who's this about?" (or smth idk you can change it) and reader gets really embarassed but confesses anyway

PHEW ok im done im sorry tjis was so long ACK

FROM THE START .ᐟ

includes: dan heng x fem!reader. soft bf dan heng, can be interpreted as imbibitor lunae, not proofread — wc: 691

(Name) was listening to her playlist in her room, engaging in various activities such as reading and tidying up her space. The song “From the Start” by Laufey began playing, causing her to halt in her tracks and swiftly turn up the volume. She sang along to the lyrics, using a makeshift microphone hairbrush, and complemented her performance with gestures that mirrored the song’s sentiment.

Unbeknownst to the eyes of another person observing her, she sang the lyrics aloud, her voice carrying the melody of the song as her body gracefully moved to its rhythm, lost in the joy of the moment.

Have to get this off my chest

I’m telling you today

That when I talk to you, oh, Cupid walks right through

And shoots an arrow through my heart

As she sang, she made a makeshift arrow with her hand, delicately gesturing as if it pierced through her heart, adding a touch of emotion and artistry to her performance.

And I sound like a loon, but don’t you feel it too?

Confess I loved you from the start

Confess I loved you

Just thinking of you

I know I’ve loved you from the start

Startled by the unexpected claps, she froze up, slowly turning towards the door where the applause came from. There he stood, leaning against the doorway with a gentle smile on his face. “So, who’s this song about?” he inquired, his eyes filled with curiosity and a hint of intrigue.

With a fond gaze, Dan Heng observed how she immediately blushed and hastily sought refuge under the covers of her blanket, attempting to escape his gaze.

“It’s rude to ignore someone who’s talking to you, you know,” he playfully chided, moving towards her form, gently patting her head above the blanket.

“Stop it, this is so embarrassing,” she whined, trying her best to avoid Dan Heng’s teasing but finding it rather difficult to resist his affectionate gestures. The playful banter between them brought forth a sense of warmth and familiarity, making their bond even stronger in that intimate moment.

Dan Heng chuckled at her response, settling himself more comfortably on her bed as he persisted with his question, “So, back to my previous question, who’s this song about? I’ve never seen you like that before.”

“I don’t think you’d wanna know,” she mumbled, her voice muffled as she hid her face in her pillow.

“Why?” Dan Heng inquired, curious to uncover the mystery.

“Because it’s...” she hesitated, the ending of her sentence inaudible to Dan Heng’s ears.

“Hmm? Can you repeat that?” He teased, finally catching a glimpse of her red face, though only the top half was visible due to her continued attempts to shield herself. The playful exchange between them brought a sense of lightness and comfort to the moment, allowing them to share a connection that transcended mere words.

She suddenly groaned and tried to turn away from him, “It’s you, idiot,” she whispered. Dan Heng froze in his spot, hearing her confession, before swiftly moving to be on top of her lying form, gently trapping her between his arms.

“Are you serious? (Name), oof—” Dan Heng began to say but was interrupted as she smacked him in the face with a pillow, causing him to fall down beside her.

Her back turned towards him, Dan Heng felt an overwhelming desire to cuddle her and shower her with kisses. Cautiously, he hugged her waist from behind, finding comfort in the fact that she didn’t push him away. He continued to cuddle into her, basking in the warmth of their affection.

“I like, no, love you too, my dearest,” he declared with sincerity, his heart brimming with affection.

He was taken aback by her sudden movement, now face to face. Dan Heng couldn’t resist the urge any longer and asked, “Can I kiss you?” to which she nodded in consent.

Sealing their lips together in a passionate kiss, they immersed themselves in a tender embrace, embracing each other with gentleness and devotion. The world around them seemed to fade away as they expressed their feelings through that intimate connection, creating a cherished moment that they would remember forever.

NOTES. aaa i rly liked writing this, i’ll post a blade version probably later heheheeheh so soft n tiny dan heng bbg

TAG LIST. @rintosei @yanqingisim

LIKES AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED! ‹3

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detectivemarvelingcomics · 1 year ago

Text

Not Your Classic Vigilante [Ch. 13]

Alternate Dimension AU TW: Language, Light Alcohol, Attempted Kidnapping, CW: OC Use, See the OC Guide [Here] Genre: Drama, Action, Angst, Light Comedy Pairing: Batfamily & Batsis!Reader, OC x Reader YN Pronouns: Female (She/Her) Word Count: 8.8K

(13/?) [First] | [Previous] | [Next] [DC Masterlist] | [Not Your Classic Vigilante Masterlist]

Notes: IT'S FINALLY DONEEEE this is crazy how many chapters have I updated this year? LMFAO Not fully proofread by my awakened mind yet but I did run it through grammarly lol I'll give it a proper look later

Disclaimer: This series is originally by @fandom-meanderer who is a close friend of mine, but she has since fallen out of her Tumblr days and asked me to finish a few series for her, hence why I am now in ownership of the Not Your Classic Vigilante series, I hope I can still live up to her writing as I rewrite this series! (I promise not to change too much, hehe)

2012

Things were different. Lonelier. And maybe a bit sadder. You stood in front of the room that now loomed over you, and you took a deep breath to steady your nerves. You opened it, the door slamming against the wall with a loud bang, and you waited, you waited for the usual ‘Get out of my room!’ But none came. And there hasn’t been one for months now. You walked inside, still a mess and untouched as it was the night before he left, and you sat in the middle of it, hugging your legs close to your chest.

“There’s another party downstairs,” you said out loud. “I was thinking I should go for a walk, should I?” You wondered aloud. No answer. No 'Wait for me,' no 'ask Dick to go with you.' Just silence. You just wanted a quiet place to escape the noise, what with the gala going on downstairs and your father acting in front of the masses, you just didn’t feel up to it. Besides, Dick wasn’t even there to keep you company this time. You sat in the silence for a while, looking around the room as if he was hiding somewhere and was about to jump out to scare you. But no surprises came. Instead, you got up, took one of the dusty books from the shelf, and left the room.

“Oh, hey!” A younger boy stood in front of you, he looked vaguely familiar. “Could I ask you a quick question?”

“Yeah, the party’s just downstairs, walk down the corridor and you’ll hit the ballroom eventually,” you answered.

“No, it’s something else,” he shakes his head.

“Ah, the bathroom is also downstairs right next to the ballroom,” you cut him off and turned to walk into your room.

“(Y/N) Wayne. I know who your father is, we need to talk.” That got your attention. You stopped with your hand on the doorknob and sighed.

“Right, he’s a businessman, nothing else,” you nodded. But the boy’s face remained grim. “Let’s go somewhere private,” you nudged your head further down the hall and he followed. Once you were both situated in a secluded part of the mansion, he spoke up.

“I’m Tim Drake,” he introduces himself. You shook his hand. Tim Drake, a couple years your junior, you've seen him around in your family's galas before but you've never really talked to him, you were always more preoccupied with your brothers or too busy taking pictures to go up to the boy who tended to stay on the sidelines more.

“I know.” Now you remembered him, he’d gone to a few of your father’s galas before.

“Oh, cool, I was worried for a second, we didn’t usually talk much,” he says, “you were always with two older guys.”

“My brothers.”

“I know that,” Tim shrugs. “I tracked you down because I had a favor to ask you,” he says.

“Sure,” you agreed only as a formality. The Waynes and the Drakes were somewhat of friends. Tim glanced around.

“Batman needs a Robin,” he says quietly. You wondered how he figured it out. There was no point in hiding anything either, he must have been really smart to have figured out your identities, even people who worked right next to your dad couldn’t have deduced it. “Don’t try to deny it, I have pictures,” he says. You shook your head.

“If you’re asking me then that means that Dick said no, huh?”

“Right away,” Tim mutters.

“I can’t give you an answer,” you told him. But Tim’s eyes seemed to shine, as if he’d found a treasure he’d been looking for. Why he was so desperate, you didn’t know. “Well, either way, you figured them out, I’m sure you can think of something too just in case,” you replied bluntly.

“Thank you, (Y/N),” he says. “Even just thinking about it is enough.”

“Why do you feel like you should do this, though?” You asked him.

“I…” Tim hesitated. “I’m sure you know as well as I do the kind of rampage Batman has been on in the city.” You were. Recently, you were certain, that your father and the one behind the mask are two different people now.

“And you think having a Robin would help him?” You muttered.

“Yes, I do, and who better than his own daughter?” He asks. You looked away and toward your clasped hands.

“You may be asking the wrong person, Tim, I have no qualifications to be a Robin,” you say.

“Better you than none,” Tim insists.

“I could never do what they did,” you shut your eyes. “The Batman... he scares me,” you mumbled, clutching onto the book in your arms a little tighter now.

“I’m sorry,” Tim says. You held your hand up to stop him.

“I’m sorry too, Tim, this isn’t a good time,” you shook your head, stood up, and you left. You admired Tim’s good intentions, truly, but they paled in comparison to the thoughts that ran rampant in your mind right now. You just lost a brother. Your father didn’t want to listen to you. Your other brother was nowhere to be found, and that left you to mull all this over.

You felt lost.

Lost in your thoughts, and all alone. This was the first time, the first in a long time, where you once again felt alienated in this manor. Not a vigilante and barely a Wayne, was donning the Robin mantle what you needed to do to be seen again?

You didn’t know.

2022

The three brothers climbed onto the train after Damian pulled an insignia out of his pocket.

“The Captain sends her regards,” Damian says to the guards. They salute and march away after leading them to a private cabin, one that Damian shut and locked as soon as the other two were situated.

“Alright, Damian, you first,” Tim invites him. Damian nods.

“After that man teleported me here, I woke up on a battlefield, it was… very different than the ones we’ve seen before,” he says. “Everything in this world is different from ours, laws, people, everything,” he says. “I don’t even know where to start for you two. I’ve been here for almost two months now and I’m still learning things.”

“Two months?!” Tim shouts. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah?”

“Damian, you went missing two weeks ago,” Jason corrects.

“Weeks? No, no, I’ve been here for a while now,” Damian shakes his head. Tim pulls out the remains of the watch. “Where did you get that?”

“(Y/N) left it behind before she left,” Tim mumbles.

“This is it. This is the watch that the stranger had too,” Damian takes the watch and opens it.

“So this is the culprit then,” Tim looks down at it. “Maybe we could reverse it somehow to get home.”

“Not in this state, it won’t,” Damian shuts the watch in his hands and places it in his pocket. “I’ve been trying to do my own investigation, but without the watch and with the constant surveillance I’ve been drawing blanks.”

“Superveillance?” Tim, always the skeptic.

“To avoid any unnecessary complications, I had to hide in plain sight, but that greatly restricted my movements,” Damian grumbles. “Now you two, how did you figure it out?”

“We were tugging it around, and somehow it activated the mechanism inside of it,” Tim explains.

“Before I was transported, the man swang it back and forth, maybe moving the watch is key to activating it,” Damian hypothesizes.

“Movement of some kind, but it has to be precise, otherwise you’d be teleporting everywhere with every step,” Tim swings the pendulum of a clock, but in its sorry state nothing happens.

“Well, either way, we’re not going to figure out shit with it like this,” Jason shakes his head. “I say we find (Y/N) then we figure out how to fix the thing.”

“That’s a good start,” Tim agrees.

“Luckily, I know where she is,” Damian cuts in, “we’ve been sticking close to each other since I landed here.”

“That’s good! She’s alright, then? Safe?” Tim worries. Damian hid the smile behind his hand.

“Good, great even, and most of all safe,” he answers. The train halts and Damian stands up first. “But, since I have you both here, we’re going to have to figure out a way to have both of you go under the radar too. So I’ll share the story we've been using.” Tim and Jason shared wary glances.

“Okay.”

“Sure.”

“We’re from the mountains—”

“Fuck, couldn’t you have come up with something more believable?” Jason groans.

“Trust me, it’s worked so far, it explains our general lack of knowledge on how everything in this universe works as for the lack of ID,” he starts, “so, we’re from a mountain village. Recently, due to impoverished conditions, our parents sent all of us down to start working and to send money home. It works with (Y/N) in her position, it works with me being inducted late, and we’ll find a way to make it work with you two.”

“Sure, alright, I’ll play along if it means we can get home easier,” Tim says.

“Home… yeah,” Damian nods, but Jason is quick to catch his unease. He chose not to bring it up, though.

“Fine, yeah, I’ll be a farmer, or whatever,” Jason leans back against the seat.

“This world, though, you mentioned different laws. Hell, Jason and I got arrested for taking care of things the way we usually do, how can you explain that?”

“The law enforcement in this world is basically airtight, and it’s based on an honor system,” Damian explains, “At any moment, someone can be removed and replaced in the Knighthood under two circumstances: reasonable petition or honorable combat. Reasonable petition is when enough people with viable grievances petition for a member to be removed. Honorable combat is when someone challenges a Knight for their position. Because of this system, a natural respect is garnered by the people, and as a result of that there’s hardly any petty crime. As for the larger crimes, those are dealt with quickly, there’s far worse problems to deal with in this world than crime,” Damian says.

“And the law?” Jason probes.

“No unreasonable violence without just cause and material evidence,” Damian says. “That’s the best way to put why you two were arrested. The victim ran away so you didn’t have their testimony, the criminal was knocked out cold so he couldn’t say anything anyway, and two people without IDs were spotted at the scene. Not a good look, right?”

“Fair enough,” Tim brushes his shoulder.

“It’s a good thing you two are in civilian attire, makes it easier for you to blend in,” Damian says.

“Yeah… speaking of, where’s your uniform? What’s with the get up?” Jason asks.

“It’s at the apartment right now, we had to keep it hidden. To be able to integrate quickly I joined the Knighthood alongside a new regiment, I lucked out in the timing, but because of that I have a strict regimen to stick to, it’s been hard to investigate, but now that I have you both here we should be able to delegate.” The train slows to a stop and the cabin door opens automatically. Damian held a finger to his lips to signal that the conversation was over and the older two nodded. Damian leads them out of the train and the trio steps into a high-ceiling station. “We’re in the citadel now, the Knightsguard is the primary form of law enforcement here,” Damian says just loud enough for them to hear.

“This looks right out of a fantasy book,” Tim looks around.

“Uh… yeah,” Jason watches people interacting with holograms and other tech he couldn’t have even imagined. “So, where’s (Y/N)?” He asks.

“I’m taking you to her, obviously,” Damian grimaces. “But she’s busy right now, we’ll have to wait, but you’ll be able to see her,” Damian leads them down a series of corridors. “I need you both to remain calm while we’re here, though, remember we have to fly under the radar if we’re all going to go home, that means we have to play by their rules,” Damian says.

“Yeah, I can be calm,” Jason huffs. Tim and Damian deadpan toward him. “What? I can!”

“Says the man who decked someone first thing,” Damian chuckles.

“How’d you even know that was us anyway?!” Jason gasps.

“Two men in their twenties, one used excessive force on a civilian and the other screamed in frustration when it happened, then they argued with each other right after,” Damian recites. “I didn’t even have to listen to your names to know it was you two,” his mouth falls into a flat line.

“That could’ve been anyone, though,” Tim says.

“Sure, in any other earth where law-breaking was common, like ours. I already explained to you that things are different here. Not to mention, those other worse things to worry about,” Damian led the two into an arena-like room.

“Dami! Over here!” A voice yells out.

“Ooh, Dami, huh?” Jason nudges him and Damian rolls his eyes.

“Don’t embarrass me,” he glowers.

“It’s kinda in the job description,” Jason snarks and Damian frowns.

“You two are so similar,” he mumbles under his breath. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” he responds to Retta regardless and the three approach them.

“Whoa, who are these?” Lowen asks.

“These are my brothers, Tim and Jason,” Damian introduces them. “They are also from our backwater mountain village,” Damian glares at Hugo.

“Whoa…” Hugo was stuck in admiration, though.

“You two, the group here are my friends, don’t be weird. The one eating a sandwich is Niers, the one who called us over is Retta, the girl playing with those rocks is Luciana, the one reading over there is Lowen, and the one making googly eyes toward Jason is Hugo,” Damian runs through the list and the group exchanges awkward hellos.

“Well, you’re all just in time! The Brigade’s about to start their sparring matches,” Retta points toward the ring in the middle. “Every month the Brigade checks their individual progress through these matches, randomized opponents and randomized scenarios. Though we don’t have to be here, it’s always fascinating to see how quick-witted they are. Truly they are the best of the best for a reason,” she explains.

“Yeah? We’ll see about that,” Jason mutters.

“Jason’s somewhat of an expert,” Tim nudges him.

“What about you?” Lowen snarks.

“He’s smart,” Damian answers for him.

“That’s… that’s it?” Lowen hums.

“Trust us, he’s the most important one,” Jason sighs.

“Oh! It’s starting!” Niers leans forward, pulling out his phone to start recording. “Looks like Officer Jones and Lieutenant Wright are first,” he says.

“Jones is the one on the left, Wright, I’m sure, looks familiar,” Damian speaks so only the two could hear him.

“Holy shit… that’s Alex,” Jason squints his eyes. “What’s he doing here?”

“I’m still trying to figure that out myself,” Damian leans forward. “I don’t believe in coincidences.”

“In our line of work, those don’t exist,” Tim replies.

“What’s your first impression of them? Just a curious question,” Luciana butts into their conversation, she’s looking at Jason, the so-called expert.

“Well…” Jason leans forward. “Both of them are in the military, that’s clear from their builds. Jones has a broader build, though, his shoulders are heavier but his arms are just as built, he probably uses a heavy weapon, right?”

“Right, he uses battle axes,” Luciana leans back. “And the lieutenant?”

“Hm…” Jason thought back, he’d met Alex a couple of times, that nerd. He couldn’t imagine him wielding anything as heavy as an axe, and with that more balanced build it was clear that, if anything, he would only be able to use lightweight weapons. Then again, Alex is a nerd, and if this world is straight out of a story booy then one thing could be plausible. “Magic user.”

“He is an expert!” Niers gasps.

“Just lucky guesses,” Jason hums.

“Watch the screens there,” Retta points to the monitors. “Look, you can see who’s fighting on that first one and the second one shows the random scenario.”

“Swords, wow,” Lowen closed his book and watched with an intent gaze. “Just look at the way they even hold them,” he was amazed, and rightfully so.

“So, you both have talents in martial arts?” Retta asks.

“Yeah, but I’ve never used a sword before,” Jason shrugs.

“Observe carefully,” Damian mutters. Tim and Jason catch onto his words and they turn their focus to the fight ahead of them.

2013

You walked downstairs one night, the moon was high in the sky and the stars just barely peeking out of Gotham’s smog. You had another nightmare, the same one you’ve been having for a while now. Your fear of being left alone because of the looming threat of death was one that you didn’t think would be going away any time soon. You walked into the kitchen, ready to pour yourself a glass of water.

“Hey, (Y/N),” Tim says behind you. You gasped in surprise, nearly dropping the glass while turning around. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says. There’s a mug in front of him, freshly poured and still cooling down.

“Is everything okay?” You pulled up a chair in front of him and he hesitated before answering.

“… No,” he looks into the mug in front of him. “I know I volunteered to become the next Robin but… training’s been harder than I thought it would be,” he shakes his head.

“That bad?” You rest your head on your hand. “Is Dick being too hard on you?”

“No, it’s not that, if anything Dick is the only one I’m actually learning from,” Tim shakes his head. “It’s just… it’s a lot,” he admits. You leaned forward on the table now.

“Well, for what it counts, I know next to nothing about fighting crime, so if you ever want to take a break, why not spend the day with me? I’m just a boring old civilian, but it’ll be nice to get some fresh air once in a while,” you offered.

“You’re not just a boring old civilian,” he shakes his head. “But… if you’re not doing anything tomorrow, maybe we can do something then?”

“Tomorrow?” You hummed. “Sure, let’s go do something after school,” you nodded. “I’ll tell dad so don’t worry about it, if he gets upset he’d have to go through me first,” you joked.

“Yes! I can’t wait!”

The next day, you and Tim were practically bouncing in your shoes waiting for the day to be over. Tim wondering what you had planned and you wondering how the day will go. This is the first time you’d have something of a younger sibling and you were so excited about it. You were excited to spend time with Tim the same way your older siblings spent time with you. It was a miracle that your dad agreed to let you take Tim out for the day, granted Dick did most of the talking, but you were thankful nonetheless. And, once the bell rang, it was nearly in the blink of an eye that both of you were outside.

“So, what are we doing today?” Tim asks.

“Hmm…” you pulled out two slips of paper and showed them to Tim, blank side up. “Choose one.”

“Any of them?”

“Yup, the one you choose is the one we’ll do today,” you nodded.

“Okay, well…” he looks between them both and selects the left one, “ice cream?”

“Ice cream it is,” you showed him the other paper which simply read ‘Arcade’ and you saw the way his eyes lit up, “this one is for the next time we hang out.”

“Next time?”

“Sure, even heroes need breaks,” you nudged him. “Anyway, there’s this hole-in-the-wall place I used to go to all the time, you’ll love it there, they have this cookie-butter flavor that is just so good,” you hummed.

“Cookie butter sounds good right now,” Tim follows at your heels.

“Hey, catch up! Don’t walk behind me like that,” you waited for him to join you at your side before continuing onward. “Look at those, Timmy,” you pointed into the shop window at the shoes. “I’ve been wanting that pair since forever,” you pointed at the one in the middle.

“Why don’t you just buy them then?” He asks you.

“Where’s the fun in that? My mom taught me from the get-go to earn things before getting them. Sure, her way was a bit…”

“Illegal?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you tilted your head to the side and nodded, “so I decided to combine both her and dad’s philosophies.”

“Beating people up?”

“No, no,” you shook your head quickly. “Work hard to make the prizes more worthwhile. It’s good for goal setting, and motivation, and it feels nice to finally reach a goal,” you pointed at the shoes. “I’m not going to buy those shoes until I graduate high school. No ifs, ands, or buts,” you announced. You and Tim walked into the ice cream parlor next to it and Tim slid into a booth. “How about you, Timmy? What’s your motivation?” Tim hums for a second.

“I want to do what’s right,” he says.

“You sure about that?” You asked him. He looks confused. “Think about it, Tim. I’m gonna get our ice cream.”

“But, that is my motivation.”

“That’s like premeds saying they want to save lives when asked why they wanted to go into medicine,” you explained.

“Well, you want to be a premed, why do you want to go into medicine?”

“Surgery, I want to specialize in that specifically because I like cutting things open,” you laughed and Tim’s face grew grim.

“Are you serious?!”

“Yeah, I mean, cutting things open with consent, duh, but see it’s small reasons that will help you drive your bigger one,” you say. “Anyway, what flavor do you want?”

“Chocolate, please.”

“Sounds good, think about it, Timmy, I’ll be right back.”

2022

“Talk about crowd,” Carter looks out from his spot. “When did we become zoo animals?” He nudges you.

“Who knows? It started out with the twins observing us, and now we have half the knighthood here,” you shrugged. “Poor Nix, though, he got the short end of the stick with swords.”

“He was never good at that subject,” you and Carter watched the sword slip out of Nixon’s hand and land stuck to the ground beneath. Alex, meanwhile, stops the blade right as it would’ve hit Nixon’s neck.

“Yield! I yield,” Nixon rose his hands and Alex put the sword away, offering his hand instead, which Nixon took with pride. “Good one, Lex,” he pulls Alex in and the two bump shoulders before separating. “Hey, stage’s all yours!” Nixon flags you both down.

“Yeah, yeah, take your time to walk that one off,” you fired back. Nixon rolled his eyes and followed Alex.

“Nixon, you have to pay more attention to your footing, I didn’t even have to worry about striking you since you were too busy tripping over yourself,” Alex says, “it’s amazing that you can wield an axe a foot taller than you.”

“Hey, come on, an axe is weighed totally differently than a sword,” Nixon shrugs. “Who’s up next anyway?”

“That would be us,” you raised your hand alongside Carter’s.

“Oh, now this I gotta see, you two don’t get paired up often,” Nixon grins. “My money’s on the Captain, of course,” he whispers to Alex.

“That all depends on what the random scenario is,” you shrugged. “If it’s anything other than swordsmanship or rifling, I’m screwed,” you sighed and followed Carter out, keeping your eyes glued to the screen to see the scenario. The words moved through the screen quickly in a wheel-like fashion until they settled on one phrase.

‘Hand-to-hand combat’

“Damn it all,” you cursed. Carter, meanwhile, stretched his arms across his chest. “You’re an expert at this one, Adara.”

“You would know,” he answers with a grin.

“Oh shut up,” you rolled your eyes, but your smile betrayed you. You grabbed the wraps from the table and secured them around your hands. “Go easy, maybe?”

“You’d hate me if I did,” Carter held his hand out and you shook it with a firm grasp.

“Good answer,” you separated and took a deep breath and, once the buzzer sounded, your first move was to block, of all things. Too preoccupied with what was going on in the stands, you were more focused on not getting knocked down.

“Hey, she kinda looks like (Y/N),” Jason whistles. Damian and Tim turn back to look at him, the latter’s jaw on the floor.

“You really are stupid, aren’t you?” Damian clicks his tongue.

“That is (Y/N)!” Tim gestures toward you with open hands and Jason whistles louder.

“Oh!” He leans back to get a wider view. “Oh,” his voice drops alongside his jaw. He shoots up and runs down the bleachers.

“Jason! Don’t do anything dumb!” Tim makes a move to follow, but Damian pulls him down.

“Shh!”

“He’s gonna blow our cover!”

“You’re both going to blow our cover if you make a scene,” Damian hisses.

“(Y/N)!” Jason cupped his hands around his mouth and your head whipped to the side.

“Jason?!” Now it was your turn to be shocked.

“Twelve o’clock!” He shouts. You duck your head in time to dodge the jab.

“Distracted, cap?” Carter pulls his fists back and you hold your arms in a defensive stance while shaking the shock from your thoughts. You knew Carter well enough to know that he wasn’t going to let you off easy, and such was true when he landed a hit clean on your jaw. You stumbled back on slightly, pushing your mandible back in place.

“Good hit.”

“Not good enough apparently.” Carter was relentless, you knew he had a natural talent at this but goddammit you were about to get schooled in front of the newbies. You blocked another hit from him and ducked under his swing. You could only dodge him for so long, you’d have to fight back eventually, but he kept all of his weak points well-guarded, moving just enough every time to block you off. It was when he knocked the wind out of you, causing you to stumble back and land against the railing, then a small ray of hope appeared.

“Hey, kid,” Jason takes your shoulders and holds you steady, “come on, shake it off. When dealing with opponents twice your size, you gotta go for the spots they won’t think twice of. Looks like this guy doesn’t skip chest day, but if you look at his proportions, your best bet is to go for the legs and then you throw punches,” he instructs. You nodded your head shakily, your pride was getting in the way of your logic right now.

“Yeah, okay, why?” Was all you were able to get out.

“I’ll be damned if my little sister loses in a hand-to-hand fight, this is my bread and butter,” he hits his chest with his fist. “Now go fuck him up!” He pushes you forward and you roll your neck, the world stabilizing around you and your breathing steadying again.

“Okay, I’m back,” you hold your hands in front of you.

“Isn’t that cheating?” He nudges his head toward Jason.

“Please, he just wanted to say ‘hello,’” you shrugged and charged again. Go for the legs, that’s right, that was always Carter’s weak point, why didn’t you think of that before? Good on Jason for noticing it as soon as he looked at him too, just goes to show you still have a lot to learn. Color Carter surprised when you roundhoused him first, knocking him onto his back and grabbing him by the collar. “Yield.”

“Nah,” he grabs your arm and sweeps you off of your feet, you were airborne for a while before you felt yourself pinned to the ground. You broke free from his grasp and rolled to the side, regaining your footing quickly to move out of the way of another swing.

“Come on, (Y/N)!” Of course, Jason was always the loudest in the room. You adjusted steadied your stance and threw a jab just as you moved out of the way of Carter’s right hook.

“Who’s he, anyway?” Carter asks.

“Focus,” you duck behind him and sweep his legs again, this time Carter falls forward, but you grab the back of his shirt on time. “You always keep your back open,” you shook your head.

“Well, I usually have you to watch it,” he pushes up and pivots on his heel, once again grabbing your arm, but you took this as a chance to slam your knee into his abdomen, effectively knocking the wind out of him and pushing him to the side. You stretched your arms out again and, right as he recovered, you landed a hit clean against his jaw, knocking him onto the floor. You shook the stinging pain out of your hands while he raised his right one. “Yield,” he adjusts his jaw and you help him up.

“Goes to show I’m captain for a reason, right?” You pulled him close so you could whisper in his ear. “Why’d you let me win? I know you can pack a harder punch.”

“Half the knighthood’s watching, and that guy who said ‘hello’ is glaring daggers at me,” he nudges his head toward Jason. Jason. You let go of him and turn to your brother, nodding toward the side of the stage, and he catches your signal, going in that direction while you drop the wraps back in their place. “Where are you off to?”

“Investigation, watch over Eve’s and Alex’s spar for me,” you walked under the entrance and spotted Jason at the end. “Don’t get excited, he let me win,” you jutted your thumb behind you, but Jason still had a proud grin on his face.

“Does it matter? Look at you go, kiddo!” He clapped a hand against your back and you groaned. “Now… what the fuck was that?!” His shout was obvious and you squeezed your eyes shut.

“Look, Jay, a lot has changed since we last spoke, but more importantly, what the hell are you doing here? How? Are the others about to come pouring in?” You asked.

“Oh, actually, Tim’s here too.”

“Tim’s here too?!”

“Yeah, wanna say hi?”

“Jason, be serious, you shouldn’t be here, the three of you!”

“Well, duh, Tim and I came here to nab you and Damian and head back.”

“Head back? Do you even know how to head back?!”

“Sure,” Jason pulls out the wristwatch and you grab it, looking at the damaged insignia on the front. It was almost too scraped and worn through to be able to get a clear image, but the shape was a dead giveaway.

“How did you get this?”

“You left it behind?”

“Me? No, no, that’s impossible, I don’t use this model,” you said.

“Model? Wait, you have one of these?” Jason points at it in your hands.

“Yes, kind of, it’s complicated, Jay.”

“And you never came home?!” You stopped. You took a deep breath.

“… No,” you shook your head. You opened the watch. “Whatever you two did to this, it’s busted beyond repair. It can’t get you back now, and the models I use are under lock and key by the Crown,” you shut the watch with one hand and handed it back to Jason.

“And since Damian’s still here then you haven’t been able to get it, huh?”

“Without putting him at risk, no,” you crossed your arms and Jason mirrored your stance. “I’m not going back, Jay.”

“I’m not going to try to convince you,” he says while rubbing the back of his neck harshly. “Look, I know you have your reasons, and I’m not going to bang my head against a wall to understand them—”

“I thought you of all people would understand,” you interjected.

“What?”

“You didn’t come home either, did you?” You asked.

“That was different.”

“How so?” You stepped up. “We both died because of a mistake that father made and we both came back fundamentally changed from who we were before, how are we different?”

“Because you are you and I am me,” Jason points to you then to himself. “I… I can’t explain it other than that,” he shakes his head.

“Sister,” Damian approaches with Tim in tow.

“We’ll finish this conversation later,” you took the watch from Jason’s hand and held it up. “Look familiar, Damian?” You held it by the chain and the younger nodded. “Shit, this just got more complicated,” you muttered. You shoved it into your pocket as soon as you heard footsteps.

“Ayo, Cap!” Nixon waves his hand. “Ayo… everyone else,” he observes the group while the rest of the Brigade follow behind him.

“Whoa, long time no see, Alex,” Jason waves.

“Hello, Jason,” Alex nods his head. “I don’t suppose daddy dearest will be next, will he?” Alex whispers toward you.

“Interesting to see a familiar face,” Tim was already making connections, you could see it in his expression.

“Shit… the Queen’s gonna kill me,” you slumped your shoulders and your eyes rolled toward the ceiling. “Would it be nepotism if I just tossed them in some honorary role?” You looked at Alex.

“Yes, very, but they’re too old to take the recruits’ test too,” Alex hums.

“It’s fine, there’s no need,” Tim cuts in. “We’ll be in and out, we’re just here to get Damian and (Y/N) and we’ll be on our way—”

“Whoa, whoa, what do you mean you’re here for the captain?” Carter subtly steps next to you now. “Sure, take the kid, we were looking for ways to send him back anyway, but you can’t take her.” He looks toward you and you sigh.

“What do you mean we can’t take her?” Tim frowns.

“Stop,” you held your hand out and the group fell into a tangible silence. “Look, we can’t have this conversation until we even find a way to send them back. We haven’t had access to our watches since we came back, and we can only use those with a direct Royal order, so until then, we’re going to have to find a way for you both to lie low, that’s why I inducted Damian into the Knighthood, it gave me a way to keep an eye on him while I researched the monster outbreaks,” you explain.

“There’s monsters here too?” Tim asks.

“Naturally,” you nodded. “Any of you have any ideas on how I handle my brothers?” You looked at your team.

“You are taking this surprisingly well,” Alex comments. You look at your watch.

“No time to freak out, I have to head down to the lab soon, there are developments with the daemon I need to check out,” you silenced your phone, “well? Anyone?”

“It’s a long shot, but…” Eve hums. “I know we have openings on our research team, we could probably fit them in there,” she says.

“I could do that,” Tim says. “Jason, though, I’m not too sure,” he looks at his brother, who crossed his arms.

“There is that way,” Alex speaks up but you shook your head.

“No way.”

“Well, it’s your best bet if you don’t want Jason around vials ten times older than he is,” Alex insists.

“What is it? I can handle it,” Jason nods.

“Mm… who would he fight though? He has to take someone’s place,” you mumbled.

“Or, if he fought someone with high authority and they were impressed with him that could work too,” Alex insists.

“Who has that authority?” You asked him.

“…” Alex didn’t answer.

“Oh,” your eyes widened slightly with the realization. “Okay, yeah,” you nodded. “Jason, repeat after me,” you looked at him and he nodded. “I, Jason Todd.”

“I, Jason Todd.”

“Challenge.”

“Challenge?”

“The Captain of the Brigade.”

“For a position on their team.”

“For a position on their… team?” Jason’s head tilts slightly.

“Sure, challenge accepted,” you took his hand and shook it.

“Wait… What?!” You pushed him toward the arena. “Hold on!”

“See you guys in a bit, I’ll explain everything after this, promise, meanwhile someone makes up an ID for him and Timmy,” you looked at your team and they nodded, heading toward the stands. “Jason, make it look realistic, yeah? Eyes everywhere.” You pushed him out of the entryway and Jason looked around the arena. He’d seen it from above, but to be in the center of it all was a whole new experience.

“Get a load of this! Someone challenged the Captain!” A voice shouted.

“Captain Wayne?! He doesn’t stand a chance!”

“Who is he anyway? Someone pull up his ID.”

“Not every day we see someone not in the Knighthood challenge, should be interesting.”

“What did you get me into?” Jason asks, looking around the now looming arena.

“Shh,” you pointed toward the screens. The phrases rolled in roulette until it settled: No scenario. “Well, that’s just luck.” Two tables rose on either side of you. “Take your pick, Jay. Whichever you choose I’ll go with too. If I’m impressed, I’ll induct you in, if not… well, we’ll deal with that after,” you shrugged and stood at the table, waiting for your opponent to make his choice. Jason, as predicted, picked up the pistols. “Don’t worry, there’s an enchantment on them, nothing here is deadly,” you told him, picking up your own pair of guns. “We’re sparring, not killing.”

“Sure, yeah,” he gives them a spin to test their weight, and, strangely enough, they felt perfect. “So what exactly are we doing?”

“Only way I can keep you two close by. Tim goes with research, you stick by me. I can’t have you running off punching people, Jay.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Not here you can’t, god, you’re worse than Damian,” you readjusted your grip around the handles. “Think of it as a spar, you’ve done plenty of those.”

“This isn’t fair, though,” Jason stood at one end of the arena. “You’ve watched me since I started, you know all my moves.”

“Not true, there was a three-year gap, right? I would hope you learned something new.”

“Oho, you really are my sister if you’re making jokes about your death,” Jason held the pistol up. “I saw that fight too, let’s get caught up,” Jason takes the first shot and you move out of the way just in time, taking your own shot in response.

2015

“So, anyway,” Tim takes a bite of his cheeseburger while you drank your soda, “Conner did some crazy shit where he ripped the robot in two, it was insane!” Tim continued to tell his story but soon he caught himself.

“It’s okay, he’s still your best friend,” you urged him to continue.

“Still, though, I mean…” Tim crosses his arms.

“At least he did it the right way, he broke up with me first,” you shrugged. “And it’s good for you too! You don’t have to hear me talking about him anymore,” you nudged him playfully and continued eating. “Anyway, you were saying?”

“Oh, it’s nothing, sis,” he shakes his head. “Plus, I’m out here with you, why would I want to talk about work?” Tim groans. “How are you?”

“Oh, you know, the usual,” you hummed. “I’ve just sent out my applications. I’m looking into some different universities,” you pulled up the list on your phone. “I’m really looking at Metropolis or Central City, they have strong STEM programs that I’m interested in,” you said.

“Oh… what about Gotham U?” Tim asks. You look up from your phone and you don’t quite think you’ve seen that expression on him before.

“Of course, that’s my safe university, I’m pretty much guaranteed acceptance with my namesake alone,” you cleared your throat. “Is… is everything okay, Timmy?” You asked him. You couldn’t beat around the bush anymore. You’d noticed Tim being a bit more… resistant to certain things going on in the house. You leaving for college being one of them, you never noticed just how close you two were until now.

“Bruce… he doesn’t need me anymore, huh?” He says quietly.

“Oh, Tim, don’t say that,” you straightened your posture and you took a deep breath.

“And you… you have an actual younger brother now,” Tim says quietly.

“Hey, come on, blood doesn’t make the bond,” you say. “Plus, no one could ever replace you,” you continued. “I mean, not just anyone memorizes 200 digits of pi for fun.”

“Come on, that’s nothing!” Tim grumbles.

“Definitely something, Tim I cry tears of joy when problems tell me to just use pi instead of 3.14,” you laughed. “But, I’m serious, Tim, if anything you’re going to get promoted,” you grinned. Tim shoots you an uneasy smile.

“Yeah, I guess, I don’t know what exactly I’m so worried about,” he says. “I mean… well, I don’t know,” he stops and decides not to pursue it any further. “But, uh, Metropolis, huh? That’s a good school!”

“I know, just a little far now that I think about it,” you muttered. “Gotham’s program isn’t so bad either, I guess,” you hummed and took a quick glance at Tim, who already seemed a little happier.

“But, (Y/N), you don’t have to go there, you looked excited talking about those other two,” Tim catches your glance. “It’s just… they’re far,” he leans back against the booth. “We can’t be with you there, you know? You’d be on your own and you’re a Wayne and…”

“Hey, I can handle myself pretty well, I think,” you insisted. “I mean, I made it this far, right?”

“Because you had us!”

“Tim,” your voice dropped and you looked both ways, ensuring that no one was listening. “I get that I’m not as… extraordinary as you all, but I’m not helpless, I can take care of myself, I’ve been taking care of myself, and I know you mean well, but Tim you’ve gotta trust me a little,” you folded your hands in front of you. “I’m not as fragile as Dick likes to make me out to be.”

“That’s… that’s not what I meant,” Tim looked away and you sighed.

“I know, I know you just want me to be safe, all of us,” you crossed your arms. “But I can’t just live in fear. One thing being in this family teaches you is how to be careful,” you looked to the side. “And another thing it teaches you is that family is what you make it,” Tim looked at you now. “Dick and I aren’t blood-related, neither was Jason, and neither are you, but still I have never looked at any of you as anything other than my brothers. The same goes for Babs, Steph, and Cass, you’re all my family regardless of anything, and I will always put you all first. But, with that said, the same goes for Damian. He’s young, alone, and probably confused, we can’t alienate him just because of his background, if anything, that’s why we should accept him more. And you, Tim, I get it, you’re different from the first two, but that doesn’t make you any less than them, hell, I bet if Jason were here right now he’d say the same.”

“But…”

“No ‘buts, Tim, I mean it, you’re amazing!”

“Maybe… maybe I’ll take a page out of your book then, (Y/N), retire early,” he says. Your shoulders slumped.

“Whatever you want, little bro. And if you do, I’ll be here to help you out. And if not, I’ll still be here.”

“Even if you’re miles away?”

“You know, there’s this wonderful invention called cell phones.”

“Stop it! You know what I mean!”

“Yes! Yeah, of course, even if I’m partying it up in Central City, if you call me I’ll come running, I know you’d do the same.”

“Well, that goes without saying,” Tim crosses his arms now.

“So… the new team, huh? I’d love to meet them.”

“Oh, you are going to love them, (Y/N)!” Tim beams.

2022

You just narrowly dodged the bullet this time, had Jason already gotten a reading on you? Impossible. You had to switch up your tactics quickly or else you’d actually lose. Think, (Y/N), what was he going to do next? Jason, as much as a wildcard he is, you could read him easily. He had these kinds of wind-ups to certain moves, you noticed. Like now, that roll of his shoulder, he’s going in for a hook so now you had to think about where he’s aiming. If he ducks low enough it’s your abdomen, if he keeps his level then it’s your shoulder. Leave it to Jason to play dirty, he picked up the pistols only for them to be a red herring, but, then again, you should’ve expected this from him as soon as he holstered the damn things.

But you knew him as well as he knew you. You play by the rules, maybe a little too much, out of the box operations were more of Carter’s forte while you and Alex tried to stick to orders more. But, come to think of it, you’d always been this way. Always doing what you’re told and never standing up until you have to. Then here’s Jason, an absolute force of nature when he’s pissed and an unstoppable machine when he’s focused.

You dodged his punch and bounced back, creating some distance before aiming the pistol and taking three shots. One on his arm, the other on his leg, and the third missed its mark when it grazed his shoulder. On each impact the bullet dissipated, hitting him with enough force to push him back but hardly enough to leave more than a bruise. You switched hands and fired another round, this time the bullet grazed his cheek and Jason couldn’t stop the proud smirk that rose on his face.

You never really got why your siblings were so crazy about sparring. Sure, you got it from a training standpoint, but their obsession with it was on a new level. It was just a pass time for them and you’d just sip on a juicebox and wait for them to finish.

But you get it now.

It’s a whole different language, one that was perfected by the Waynes. Each attack was like a part of a conversation, let’s get caught up, you get what he meant now. Even your spars with the other members of the Brigade weren’t this entertaining, and everyone in the stands agreed. Usually, you’d hear roars of shouts but this time it was silent. Everyone was watching in tense observation, trying to see if Jason had what it takes to join the Brigade and, hell, he actually might.

“Come on, Jay, you picked up those pistols, use them,” you taunted. Jason shook his head and charged again, you barely moved out of the way this time. “You’re faster.”

“I do cardio with Steph.” You ducked under his swing.

“Wider shoulders too.” He grabbed your fist before you could hit him and you shook him off before he could toss you.

“Dick would kill me if I skipped chest day.” You held the pistol up but misfired.

“Thought he was more of a glutes guy.” Jason evades your attacks easily.

“You know that’s all genetics.” He shrugs and you take this chance to shoot at his foot, causing him to lose his balance temporarily.

“True.” It didn’t last long, Jason was up on his feet in seconds and you were planning your next attack.

“I’m starting to think you just use those things as a safety blanket,” you looked at either pistol and Jason rolled his eyes.

“You know one thing about you that hasn’t changed, kiddo?”

“What?”

“You still don’t look under you.”

“What?” You looked down and your breath stopped, seeing the array of bullet shells and spikes beneath you. “Now when did you get those?”

“Had them from the beginning, you just weren’t paying attention,” he shakes his head.

“Effectively, this would be a draw,” you looked around you, one misstep would be something of an unfortunate lego brick under your shoes. “Neither of us can move forward,” you explained.

“Oh yeah? Boring,” he shakes his head.

“This match is over,” you announced, stretching out your neck and, in seconds, all the weapons disappeared as if in a simulation and the cheering was deaf to you. “I like you, you’re not Brigade material, but I’ll find a place for you,” you held your hand out and he shook it.

“Sure, I look forward to it,” he says.

“So, I have to ask, why didn’t you use them? Wanted to prove you didn’t need them?”

“You really think I would shoot you? Spar or not, I couldn’t do that,” he shakes his head. You stopped for a moment, but regained your senses before anyone could notice. “Now what?”

“I either get my ass kicked by the queen or we start your onboarding, should be quick, I’m putting you in one of the honorary squadrons,” you nodded. Jason followed you into the end of the arena. “What we talked about earlier? We discuss it to no one. Not Damian, not Tim, and no one on my team,” you said.

“What did we talk about again?” Jason caught your hint.

“Captain! Captain, we have a problem!” Marion was quick to meet you.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“That beast from a few months ago, the one that attacked the new recruits! It’s back! It’s in the courtyard right now! Aldryn’s moving the royal family to a safe house as we speak.”

“Shit,” you looked at Jason, then to Marion. “Take me there,” you pulled your phone out and held it to your ear. “All members of the Brigade report to the courtyard, we have another Daemon to take care of,” you held your hand over the speaker, “Mary how many of them are there?”

“We counted one so far, but if it’s anything like before…” She doesn’t finish her sentence.

“You take the recruits and go somewhere safe, we’ll call for help if we need it.” You ran off toward the courtyard and Marion looks at Jason.

“Who are you?” She asks.

“I’m with her,” Jason jogs after you. “What the hell is a Daemon, (Y/N)?!”

“We have monsters. This is a recent one that happens to decimate towns,” you explained, “why are you following me? Go somewhere far!”

“I wouldn’t even know where to go!” Jason defends. You both stop once you reach the outdoors and Jason swallows down his words. “That… is that it?”

“Whatever it is… that is not the one that attacked the recruits before,” you looked up. It was huge, bigger than anyone you had fought before. It towered over you easily while fresh blood dripped down its maw. It spots you and its ears straighten in alert while its eyes, empty white sockets, bored their way into you. Your eyes drifted to its neck and you could just barely make out the glint of metal that was hidden in its fur. You held your phone up again. “We need it alive.”

“Roger,” Nixon answered first.

“I’ll handle crowd control,” Alex says.

“I’m on my way now,” Eve was next.

“Can you handle it until we get there?” Carter.

“Sure… maybe.” The beast growled and, maybe you were just noticing it, but with every roar or grunt the skies seemed to get darker.

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