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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 days ago

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Doing Time 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, threats, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you try to keep your brother safe in jail but put yourself in danger along the way.

Characters: con/ex-con!Steve Rogers

Note: I need the weekend to come so I can cum

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

"Things aren't too bad. Not since I got my ass kicked," Vaughn chortles. "Mighta knocked some sense into this thick skull at last."

"Hopefully," you agree. "Mom said--"

"I tried calling. She didn't pick up."

"Oh..."

"Why-- Why should I even bother?" His humour fades to hostility, "and why are you acting like you're my mother? When she does answer, she just calls me a fuck up. Like I don't fucking know."

"Vaughn," you hum, "please, I'm not trying to piss you off."

"But you are," he snarls. "Always gotta ruin a good time, don't ya?"

You frown. This is the Vaughn you don't know. The one with the anger like a grenade pin. One tug and it's over. You sit back and wait. Arguing only fuels the flames.

"You're the one person who's s'posed to believe in me and you're nagging me about mom," he snarls.

You look away guiltily. You wonder how he'd react if you told him about Steve. If you mentioned that the reason things 'aren't too bad' is because you did something just as stupid as him. Somehow, you don't think that him knowing you do dumb stuff too will help.

He tugs at his cuffs. The guards come forward. You say his name again.

"Vaughn, please--"

"Piss off! Yeah, you meat head, get me outta here," he turns his wrath on the guard. "Waste of my time."

"Please, I didn't-- I just--"

"I told you not to talk about it no more," he barks. He did. You didn't listen.

Your eyes well. You don't know what happened to him. Where did all this anger come from? As you watch the guards unhook him and he stomps away, you can only think you may have made a good decision talking to Steve. At least there's someone in there who can help. Or try to.

You wiggle your nose and dab your eyes with your knuckle. That was embarrassing as much as it was scary. The guard on the other side returns.

"We'll bring the next early, miss."

"Thanks," you nod. You recognise him. You realise most of the guards must know your face too. It's so strange to think this is a normal part of your life now. That this has become your social life as late.

It isn't long before Steve appears. He sits calmly lets himself be leashed. He leans forward and takes the receiver. You still have yours in hand but it's against the table. You lift it.

"Couldn't wait to see me, huh?" He purrs.

Your cheeks draw tight, "how are you?"

"Mm," he narrows his eyes as he looks you over. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing, Steve," you swallow the dregs of your tears. "Really. It was an early morning."

He stares a little longer, the lines deepening in his forehead. His eyes meet yours. His aquamarine irises are speckled with gold and silver. He takes a breath and tuts.

"You were crying."

"No, Steve, it's nothing."

"That brat brother of yours," he nods as his expression turns dangerous.

"Please, Steve, not you too. Okay? It's... a sibling spat. That's all," you assure him. You wish you were as transparent as the window between you.

"I don't like that. I had family coming to see me, I'd be nice," he snarls.

"It's not your problem."

"That's where you're wrong, sweetheart. You made it my problem when you started coming around." He insists.

You chew your lip, "I know..."

"I'm not complaining, so you know," he leans back. "Kinda used to ya now."

"Thanks," you utter grimly and stare at the desk.

"Hey," he says and your eyes flick back up. "I didn't drag myself out here to see you mope."

You swallow and push away the rest of your chagrin, "sorry, I... better?"

"How can that face get any better?" He winks. You squirm.

He's been more forward lately. You assure yourself that it's just him playing with you. He's bored and you're the only person he talks to that isn't a guard or an inmate.

"That's... Right. Um, I guess it was dumb to ask how it's going," you scoff at yourself.

"It's going good, now I'm here," he runs his hand over his mouth, feeling his cheeks, "fresh shave this morning. Looking good, huh?"

You let your eyes focus. You can tell. His chiseled jaw is bare, not one speck of stubble. And his blond hair is parted and combed back. It's getting a bit long.

"You look refreshed."

"Well, I got something coming up later today."

"Another visitor?" You wonder.

"Lawyer," he shrugs. "No big thing. I got business on the outside still. Power of attorney or whatever."

"Mm," you hum.

"Boring stuff. What about you? Besides that idiot you call a brother, how's life?"

"It's life," you say. "Go to work, come home, sleep, it's all the same."

"Huh, sounds like being in here," he snorts. "Lonely?"

You don't realise at first, he's asking.

"I guess. Thought about getting a cat."

"Ah, you're young. Probably wait a few years before that," he chirps.

You tilt your head wryly, "no harm starting early."

"You're funny, sweetheart."

"Am I?" You wonder dryly.

"Well, the things they think are funny in here..." he makes a face. "You know, I wouldn't tell a lady all that, but it's low brow."

"Right."

"I'm still trying to figure you out, you know? Your brother, well, not to pile on top but he's not exactly a model citizen, but you, you're practical, considerate, you make stuffed chicken and pesto. I can't help but wonder how you're not adopted," he snickers.

"Life is strange."

"Isn't it? Never saw some girl knocking on my cell door but here we are," he drawls.

"Here we are," you agree. He smiles and bites his thumb. You shift as his eyes sparkle.

"I might never get outta of this place, but at least I can see a pretty face now and again," he growls.

Yep, at least he'll never get out. You just need to hope Vaughn doesn't get any time added and it will all be over soon.

⛓️‍💥

It's the first night Steve doesn't call. You're a bit disturbed by how it seems to throw the whole evening off. It's not like you're friends. He's an obligation. You should be happy to have one less thing on your plate.

You take a long bath, your phone on the back of the toilet, the ringer set to chirp. But it doesn't. The soak isn't enough to ease your nerves.

If something happened to him, what about Vaughn? It's a selfish worry but you can't help it. How could that even happen? Steve has this invincibility about him. You just can't believe it.

You get out and dry yourself off slowly. You're achy from sitting on your ass all day. Admin work isn't very thrilling. You stretch and rub the cushion of your bottom, the muscles easing beneath the layer of padding. You've always had a bit extra. It never bothered you as much as it bothers men. Your brother used to beat up any guy he heard hurling insults at you.

It's not your biggest care in the world. You tend to eat those away. Your sweet tooth hardly helps.

You put on a night shirt and lay awake for a while. Even when you do sleep, it's not peaceful. You dream of iron bars and blood on the floor. You wake with a thumping in your temples.

You dress for work. Your stretch-waist grey pants and the silk blouse with roses on the collar. You pack your lunch and brew your coffee, honey and a dash of almond milk splashed in. You leave with your bag and thermos.

The traffic around the clinic is always clogged. You get in with two minutes to spare. You sit behind the window and the phone rings as soon as opening hour strikes. You're swept up in the demands of patients and doctors alike. One thing you can't complain for how quickly the days fly.

You eat your lunch in your car. You cherish the moments you're not surrounded by sniffling, coughing, and complaining. You head back in and finish the last half, yawning at the monitor.

It's even busier when you pull out into the street. You let the music flow into your ears and distract you. You tap the pedal as you slog along. Finally, you get to a side street and cut a zig zag across town. You pull up to your building and linger in your car.

You have this eerie feeling. You glance over at the unfamiliar car parked facing the brick. The sleek white muscle car is vintage and polished to a shine. Someone loves that thing.

You get out of your dusty Honda and snatch your bag from the passenger's seat. You tap your fob and enter through the side. You stop before the elevator and turn back. You should at least try to get a few steps in. You take the stairs.

You stare at your pointed flats as you drag your soles over the carpet. You smother a yawn behind your hand. A throat clears. You move over, thinking someone's coming your way. You stir in your bag for your keys. Your name brings your chin up.

You gasp and drop your keys. You teeter as you nearly spin and sprint away. Your bag slips and you barely catch the strap. You gape at Steve as he stands beside your door.

Silence wafts around you with the smell of cooking and laundry. He holds a bouquet of classic red roses. He sports a tailored suit in black that puts his prison uniform to shame. The collar is crisp and the tie perfectly knotted. His jawline is shaved and his hair is styled down to the strand.

"Hey, sweetheart," he greets with a smirk.

You wordlessly bend to pick up your keys then stand and fix your bag on your shoulder. Your eyes glaze in disbelief and horror. A million questions flurry to a storm of terror.

"How..."

"Appeal went through. They turned over my conviction," he struts away from the wall. "These are for you, sweetheart."

You look at the petals then at him as he comes close. Your shoulders sag as you shrink down at the breadth of his shadow. He's even bigger like that. You shudder, the lack of barrier unsettling.

"I got you speechless," he intones and grabs the strap of your bag. "Look like you had a long day, let me take a load off."

He takes your bag then guides your hand to the bouquet. You close your mouth and gulp. He sweeps away your keys and hooks his arm through yours. You let him lead you to the door of your apartment. He swings it open and you flinch.

"Wait, Steve, how did you-- how do you know where I live?" You quaver.

"Told you, I got friends on the outside. You don't think I'd leave you unprotected--"

"Wait, wait," you plead as you face him, untangling your arm from his. "How is this real? How are you here? How- Why-- You don't think--"

"I think I spent months talking to you and you spent the same time coming to me. It's not what I think, it's what I know," he insists. You choke.

If his conviction was flipped, maybe that means he isn't so bad. No, no, you heard of what he did in there. He's dangerous. Whether he did what the court said he didn't or not.

He waves you in, "come on, we can take it slow. We'll talk, like old times."

You shake your head but enter. You see no other choice. You're too stunned to think of any.

He follows and pulls the key free of the door before shutting it. He hangs them on the little hook beside the frame. He faces you as you focus on slipping off your flats. He puts your bag on the top of the small shelf where you store your mitts and whatnot.

He whistles, "you look... good. I mean, I never got the full angle." He steps back and you feel him raking you with his eyes. "Got a nice shape..."

"Steve," you snap and face him. "I... I never..." you pace yourself and take a breath. "The flowers are lovely, thank you. And I appreciate you coming by but I think there's a bit of a miscommunication." You turn and slowly inch away. You spin around as he watches you, his expression betraying nothing. "I only talked to you to keep Vaughn safe."

He sighs and his eyes narrow. His brows tilt slightly and his jaw squares. He nods and smooths the front of his jacket.

"Well, sweetheart, I went and got a new suit for you."

"I'm sorry--"

"No, get this," he strides forward and stops before you. "Whether it was for me, for you, or for that scum you call a brother, it happened and it's not over. You got me? I might be out but I got men inside. Men who are willing to do a lot worse than me," he snarls.

You shudder and he grabs your chin. You whimper. "I wanna be nice to you, sweetheart. That's all I've been dreaming of. I went out, got all dressed up, got you flowers, now you do me a favour, go put a dress on so I can take you out for dinner." He sniffs and squeezes just until your jaw throbs, "see, I'm still doing stuff for you. I'm not asking much except you to come out and look pretty."

He lets go and you stagger back. You sniffle and quickly hide your face. Your voice comes out hoarse, "I'll put these in water first."

Your heart races and you go into the kitchen. You find a vase and focus on filling it. You put the flowers in and toss the paper cone. He looms in the doorway.

"I'll find something to put on, okay?" Your voice cracks.

You cross the kitchen and he stays firmly in your path. He brings his knuckle up under your chin and forces your face up.

"Smile, sweetheart," he growls. "We're together. At last."

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #series #fic #dark!fic #dark fic #au #doing time #captain america #avengers #marvel #mcu

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nibbelraz · 1 day ago

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[VD: Video Animation of Moshang and The System with the music Kingslayer Ft. Babymetal playing in the background. The video starts with a black screen and text saying "Warning: This Video contains a lot of flickering, flashing lights, blinking lights." Before fading as heavy music starts up and shows Shang Qinghua running quickly as if something is chasing him. The next scene panning to view all of his peak, before dashing into his room and throwing the door shut. The music grows heavier with the visual of Shang Qinghua shakily trying to look behind him before the first vocals come in saying "Hi" with the system popping up from behind Shang Qinghua as he's stricken with fear. Next scene shows a close up of Shang Qinghua's face shaking in terror with vocals singing "Are you looking for the other side?" The visuals pan out to show the system is floating above Qinghua terrorizing him as it glitches out aggressively as Mobei Jun shadows linger in the back, he has been waiting for Qinghua but stays hidden to view what this thing is doing with Qinghua while more text moves in saying "Feel like nothing ever seems quite right?". Next Shows a side profile of Shang Qinghua looking at the system glitching in and out and yelling "WARNING!" with vocals singing "Are you circling the drainpipe, getting off on pain like" Before Shang Qinghua is standing in the middle of static, he himself glitching out with heavily distorted text saying "You're corrupted?" Then Mobei coming out of the shadows to grab at Shang Qinghuas hand and looking down at him in jealousy and anger, unsure of what he's doing with the green glitching thing as vocals and text sing "I need to know where your loyalties lie, Tell me, are you gonna bark or bite?" Mobei and Qinghua are moved to the side and blurred as the system blinks back to life behind them while vocals continue to sing "Do you really wanna twist a knife in the belly". Next is images in quick succession of Mobei Juns neck and Shang Qinghua's neck both being choked with a system induced lock at their throat.

The vocals scream "MONSTER" while the systems cheery face pops up. Next comes in a strangling, angry Shang Qinghua screaming with text behind him saying "GET THE FUCK UP" and "WAKE THE FUCK UP" With a close of of an angry crying Shang Qinghua while his eyes begining to blink in and out glowing gold. The music continues with "WIPE THE SYSTEM" Showing a new god shang Qingha wiping the system with a gold slice and zooms into Qinghua's serious face as his eyes continue to glow and vocals saying "BACK THE FUCK UP" Next is Mobei Jun clawing at his throat before Qinghuas power overrides the system and breaks the lock as it sings "YOUR A PUPPET WHEN THEY CUT YOUR STRINGS OFF" Before Mobei falls to the floor grasping at his throat and Shang Qinghua yells "MY KING" before running towards him as the sing sings "DON'T COME CRAWLING BACK". Qinghua grabs at Mobei's hand and lowers his head apologizing as he shakes while vocals scream "KINGSLAYER DESTROYING CASTLES IN THE SKY" Mobei looks at Qinghua concerned, confused, a bit angry but intrigued while another "Kinglsayer" screams in the back. Next shows Shang Qinghua crying, his eyes are glowing bright gold and in heart shapes with he has his hands clasped together begging his king. The vocals sing "FOREVER MORE THE APPLE OF MY EYE" the visuals zoom out to show Qinghua on his knees, system boxes pop up but they are bright gold and show different images of Qinghua from his life before and current, some show him as airplane, holding a mobei bodypillow, almost bashing his kings head in, and grasping at Mobeis hand. Text pop up to show as if Qinghua is speaking it "I'd sacrifice my life to find you". Next shows Mobei grasping at Shang Qinghua's hand, zooming out to show Mobei looking at Qinghua like he's the love of his life and would love him no matter hwat, before it zooms back in to then show glowing background and silouhette of Mobei Jun and Shang Qinghua kissing. It then glitches out in gold to move to the credits where text says "Thank you for watching! Novel: Scum Villains Self Saving System by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu. Characters: Shang Qinghua and Mobei Jun. Song: Kinglsayer By Bring me the Horizon Ft. Babymetal. Art and editing: @Nibbelraz" End VD]

Ah Mobei jun, Don't be jealous of that dumb system! Shang Qinghua has loved you since creation 💞

Prompt for the @moshangevents DXD event: "Pre-canon SQH's identity reveal as the author/creator. Hiding in the shadows, MBJ eavesdrops SQH talking to the System and gets jealous." With added bonus of God Shang Qinghua! For @notsofrozt ! had a lot of fun making this and hope you enjoy!

If the video isn't working click here for the YouTube Link

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lostinlovingrevery · 3 days ago

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Logan Being Bossy and Domineering

Really need Logan to just take control rn.

just need to be his mindless princess while he takes care of me

Anyhoo, both fluff, and nsfw stuff (logan is a hardcore dom in this btw, beware) under the cut, enjoy!

Love me a man who can take control

I think deep down, logan can be a little bit of a control freak. He doesn't make it obvious to anyone

dont get me wrong, he's still a HUGE sweetheart, esp with you

but years of trauma has made him antsy to jump in and take care of things

because only he can do it right anyway

he can be a great leader. an even better partner.

its starts almost immediately

you're doing chores, laundry, other random tasks, he'll come in and take over for you. "Don't worry bout it bub, I got it."

He'll kiss your forehead and forcefully take over. He doesn't mind if you stay and watch. You just need to sit there and look pretty for him

If you're an independent bitch (lovingly) (like me!) this may cause you to butt heads a few times but admittedly as your relationship flourishes, you found a little relief knowing logan is willing to take on the load, take care of you, make you feel loved and not a nuisance over it?

personally, I know I can do everything, but having a partner who wants to take care of me just as I do for them? *swoon*

He won't let you do any heavy lifting. Why should you? He's the one with the metal skeleton and is freakishly strong anyhow.

When he does tell you to do something, and you tease him about being bossy, he'll smack you on the ass and tell you "Damn right"

If you do get stubborn about something, he'll get damn firm with you. he doesn't like to use that tone but dammit quit being a brat

Will manhandle you. If youre refusing to do soemthing, go somewhere. Hell throw you over his shoulder

And he wont put you down till youre where he wants to be

he'll tell you things like to get undressed and wait in bed for him

but he'll also be bringing you water or food and telling you to eat. it's not asking. he's telling you what to do.

i personally get a little pissy with authority, so if you get shitty with him about it, he will bend you over on a table and smack your ass a few times

(by the by, theres a time and a place, he'll know when to let it go.)

he'll jnow your moods quickly.

takes on the maintenance of the house/apartment/mansion. it's quite hot.

stands over you a lot, watching what you're doing. it's a little bit of being curious and wanting to be close honestly, but there's a hint of him keeping an eye on you

you may win the arguments

but he's gonna be real arrogant later in bed when he undos you perfectly, you're begging and whining and he's like "oh, look who's wanting me to take of her now?"

If you're out in public, he gets pissy about others looking and talking to you

he's not so bad that he's gonna tell old mrs.wilkins to fuck off, but if that fucking mechanic calls you sweetheart one more godddamn time....

In a bar, it's a rule that you are to be glued to his side at all times. The most leeway he gives you is if you go off with one of the others, like Jean or Ororo, to go to the bathroom/mutual friends for the other variants

Don't worry, it's not a trust issue with you. he's trust you 100 percent

its the world he doesn't trust

Honestly though, he wants you to be happy. What he really like is for you to sit there and look pretty for him. Preferably on his lap

Once youre both settled in the relationship he is definitely glued to your side

its a mixture of him being an attached puppy and secret service body guard

if you're getting shitty/bratty with him, hes not gonna raise his voice

but he is going to manhandle you

get your bent over his knee and spank you as many times as needed till youre compliant

dont worry, he'll make it up to you

but it is for your own good, sweetheart.

He demands cuddles btw

Actually, that means that he's asking. he doesn't ask

you walk by the couch he grabs your arm and pulls you onto him, your curled into his lap- unsure what happened while his arm is around your shoulder, and hand stroking your thigh as he continued watching his show

Sometimes you both are existing and he looks at you and clears his throat to get your attention

he pats his lap, beckoning you over, the ever familiar bossy look in his expression and you know you better listen

recently discovered the appeal of being a brat because you know you're not truly getting in trouble, allowing you to argue, or be moody just because

and WHEW boy that was a whirlwind for me

doing that with logan tho? You're in for a good time

he'll be smoking a cigar when you start up and that just tells him you need a lil taken care of

he (once again) gets you bent over his knee, spanking your ass till youre crying.

then he fucks you dumb. pliant and happy again, he'll go back to finishing his cigar while you're curled in his arms

with trilogy logan, he gets domineering over your safety. you and him have probably gotten into arguments over missions, you going out on your own, etc etc. it usually ends with him fucking out his frustrations on you (you work it out too tho...) "Got me acting damn stupid out there. now look at you, practically drooling as i fuck you."

old man logan. oh boy. that man is the definition of telling you to sit the fuck down. (IM SAT). You're arguing and a simple look from him has you backing down. hes too old to being dealing with your tantrum. can and will force you to suck him off just to get you to shut up (lovingly). he knows you just need his cock in your mouth to feel better. "there you go darling, just needed to suck on my cock to feel better huh?"

DOFP (70s) logan, will simply just like the power over you. he likes you compliant. he'll tie you up simply because you didn't tell him you were going out with your friends tonight. make you beg him to fuck you and when he finally does he'll be cooing and telling you "see? see how good i make you feel baby?". it's all fun and games...for the most part.

DOFP future will literally just be a soft dom. Hes ordering you around but he's being so sweet about it. its for your own good love. if you rebel a little bit though, you might see some of his 70s self come out. "Thought id' put up with your antics huh?"

Origins Logan? You'd honestly think he'd be the sweetest out of all of them. I think he could be a very aggressive dom. Go on bub, test him. See what happens. You're not gonna be able to walk straight for days. "That'll make you behave,"

worst logan, he's very pissy over it. hes telling you to knock off the tude, to let him carry the groceries, paint the walls, fix the leaky sink etc, then he's pinning you down and you're being dealt the roughest, nastiest fuck of your life. "Obviously you just needed to stuffed full of me to get you to calm down."

wolverine (2013) is a mix of everything. probs the meanest motherfucker out of them all. he genuinely loves you, wants you safe, wants to take care of you. just fucking let him. Try anything and you're gonna be sobbing as he shoves your face into the carpet, fucking you roughly and telling you "you brought it on yourself princess". He knows whats good for you, he's been around the block more than a few times. Don't push him too far- otherwise you will get tied to the bed and he won't let you go.

he can and will be a very sweet control freak though

making you breakfast, lunch, dinner

brings you cut up fruit

fills your gas tank

the sexy stuff put aside, logan genuinely wants to take care of you. he wants to ease the burdens off your shoulders.

you may wonder is it too much for him but he actually couldn't love it more. the fact that he can devote himself to you, the one he loves. is healing for him. he's spent a lot of time being lonely. let him take care of you

He does listen to you, he'll listen to your vent and your feelings. you talk things out and everything

but BOY is it sure fun to get him riled up huh? ;)

#logan howlett #wolverine #logan howlett x you #wolverine x reader #vans daydreams #logan howlett smut #wolverine smut #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x you

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stove-top96 · 2 days ago

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what if you did a valentine’s day one shot where the reader gets asked on a date and yandere batfam are not happy about it?

I LOVE your works so far!! I hope that you’re sleeping well and eating!! have a great day/night!!!💜💜💜

-🐈‍⬛

Please, Please, Please

Oneshot

Y Batfam x GN Reader

Featuring Platonic: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Cassandra Cain, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne

2.5K Words

Masterlist

You glance at the clock—15 minutes tell school is over. To pass the time you doodle on the corner of your notebook. Mr Miller's chemistry class was the worst. His monotone voice could lull anyone to sleep.

Your eyes drift to your desk mate, Parker. They seem just as bored as you, staring blankly out the window. Chemistry was the only class you had without Tim, which left you alone without anyone to talk to. Parker is nice, they’re the only friend you have that’s not already a part of Tim’s circle— If you could call them a friend.

They seemed to catch you staring because they started to scribble something in they’re notebook. A moment later they slid it over to you.

‘You understand any of this’ you smile and glance up at them. They had a cheeky grin. It was cute.

You shake your head and scribble something down. ‘Not a bit’.

They take the notebook back, Parker chuckles as they read your message, rolling their eyes.

“Guess we’re screwed than” they whisper.

You let out a small giggle “guess so”.

The bell rings before you and Parker can chat more. You’re quick to pack up your things, you wanna get home as soon as possible.

You sling your backpack over your shoulder but before you can head out the door Parker speaks up.

”Hey Y/n I got a question for you”

you pause before turning all your attention to them “yeah what’s up?”

”I was wondering…” their voice wavers and their cheeks go pink “well you know how Valentine’s Day is in a few days” Parker stumbles out, fingers tapping on the notebook. you nod.

”I was hoping… you and me could go out together, like on a date” their voice seemed to gain some confidence, and a boyish smile tugs on their lips.

You paused. You haven't really thought about going on a date with anyone, but the more you think about it why would you say no. Parker’s nice, funny, and they’re pretty cute.

You smile “Sure sounds like fun”.

Parker stares at you, wide eyed, like a deer in headlights. You take that as your cue to start heading out.

“Uhh. Yeah we’ll talk more tomorrow yeah?” They stammer.

“Yeah lets talk tomorrow” you call out from the other end of the classroom, before heading out the door.

Walking through the halls you check your phone. It’d been buzzing all class, it had to have been Dick.

<Dick>

Hey baby bird, how were your classes?

I’m in town today and we need to go out.

I Just asked Alfred I’m picking you up today!!

I’ll be waiting outside

Tim’s got a ride so don't worry about him

just you and me today!!

You scoff rolling your eyes. He easily could have sent these as one message, he just liked being annoying.

After putting your books away in your locker, you made your way to the parking lot. It’s packed with people and cars, but before you could spot him.

“Babybird I missed you so much!”

He yelled from across the parking lot, as he leaned against his car. You cringed as students stared at you and him. Could he get anymore embarrassing?

He ruffled your hair as you got into the passenger seat.

“C’mon let's go” he ushered you inside before, racing out of the parking lot.

“So I’m thinking we head to that new cafe you were talking about, and maybe stop by that old bookstore you like so much before we head home.” He keeps his eyes on the road.

“Yeah sounds like a plan” you smile.

He starts talking again, you tune him out. Your mind wanders back to when Parker asked you out. A giddy smile tugged at your lips. It made you feel all warm inside, this will be your first valentine’s on an actual date.

“You spacing out baby bird?” Dick raises a brow.

”sorry, sorry long day” you stammer. Dick makes a face, like he doesn’t quite believe you.

“sure.” His voice is a little irritated. Great, he's already starting to get pissy.

Your family’s always been weird about you. It's probably because you're not a vigilante but you can still take care of yourself.

It’s been getting worse as you get older, they just keep adding rules on top of rules. No going out past 7. No leaving anyone’s side at a gala. Always eat lunch with Tim’. Damian has way less rules than you do, and he doesn’t even follow them. It’s like they're scared to let you grow up.

Lately it’s been worse. Conversations stop once you enter a room. Touches lingering a little longer than normal. Eyes lingering for too long.

Whatever you’re used to their overprotectiveness.

It’s why you plan to keep your Valentine’s Day plans to yourself. You can just imagine everyone’s reactions. Dick will probably get super clingy. Tim will pull up their search history. Damian will go on a rant about how Parker doesn’t deserve you. Jason might corner them in some alley. and Cass will have that disappointed look on her face, the kind that makes you feel horrible.

Bruce might even ground you.

“Yeah” Dick’s grip tightened on the steering wheel tightens “no way” he mutters to himself.

Dicks muttering snaps you back to reality “what did you say?” You ask.

He forces a smile “Oh nothing baby bird, just excited”

You and Dick make it back after a few hours, and you’re exhausted. He took all across Gotham, trying to any and everything with you. It’s pretty obvious that he was trying to make up for lost time. He’s been in Blüdhaven more often.

by the time you step through the front door you want nothing more than to calloused into bed.

Instead you’re greeted by Damian. Judging from the scowl on his face he’s more pissed off than usual

Damian crossed his arms. ”You said you’d only take them out to eat.” He scoffed.

Dick slid off his shoes lazily , not even bothering to look up.”We were having too much fun and lost track of time.” Dick forced laughed.

Damian doesn’t move. ”You were gone for nearly 3 hours.” His voice is flat, clearly not buying the excuse.

“It’s my fault” you chime in, trying to diffuse the tension. Damian’s head turns toward you, his expression softens. “I asked Dick to drive me all over town” you smile, Dick ruffles your hair before heading down the hall. Damian doesn’t spare him a glance, his eyes locked in on you.

You start to make your way to your room, Damian follows— of course.

”you promised to be my model for my newest painting. When do you expect to make it up?” He asks. You hum “After dinner? You’ll still have a few hours until patrol”.

He pauses for a moment “I suppose that will work.” He says, the faintest smile forming on his lips.

You grip the handle of your bedroom door, praying you’ll get some alone time for once.

You don’t.

As you step inside Damian follows, his sharp gaze assessing the space. You sigh but don’t say anything.

Dinner should be ready in an hour, Damian’s not gonna leave anytime soon. might as well scroll through your phone in the meantime.

You and Damian head downstairs and as you make your way to your seat the conversation at the table does. everyone's eyes flicker towards you. You raise a brow but before you can say anything Alfred pipes up.

”I cooked your favourite tonight master y/n” he says, as if nothing is off.

You smile, shaking off the tension. “thank you Alfred”

As you go to take a bite you notice Jason’s gaze. it’s not his usual lazy smile. It’s sharper, more intense, watching. Did something happen? His anger is almost never directed towards you. Did Bruce say something?

Before your mind starts to wander your eyes glance towards Cass, she’s frowning like she’s almost disappointed in you but not quite.

“How was school today y/n?” Bruce’s voice cuts through the silence.

Everyone’s head turns to look at you. Waiting, as if they’re expecting something.

It’s fine you’re used to your family being weird like this.

You take a sip of your water ”it was fine” you force a casual tone. There is no way you can let them know about Parker.

Jason tilts his head “Nothing exciting happened?” He asked, studying your face.

You swallow “No not really.” You take another bite of your food, praying they don’t press the issue any further.

The family shares a look, silent but you noticed.

you pretend you didn’t.

Dick tried to steer the conversation in a different direction. But everyone seemed to be too lost in their thoughts to put in much effort.

The air remains heavy, the tension is palpable, and you feel everyone’s eyes on you.

It was the longest family dinner ever.

As the week drags on your family grows more intense.

It’s different this time.

They watch you closer, you never get any alone time. Even after spending more time with them than usual, they still expect something from you.

But what?

You don’t have time to think about that, todays the 14th, your first real valentine’s date. And you have everything planned.

At lunch you subtly drop a hint to Tim that you have this big chemistry project due tomorrow. Then after Lunch you’ll text Bruce and Alfred that you'll be home late, ‘working on it’. Bruce might check in with Tim, but Tim will confirm your story.

It’s practically fool proof.

Excitment courses through you all day. You have chemistry next, so you’ll be able to see Parker. You were just so excited— you deserved this.

At lunch Tim did not seem amused, in fact he looked quite pissed.

When you told him about your ‘Chemistry project’ he just forced a simile and nodded, he didn’t say anything for the rest of the period.

You didn’t pay him much mind though, you were to focused on your date.

As you walked through the halls to your chem class you kept glancing at your phone, waiting for Bruce’s response.

<y/n>

I have this super big chemistry project due tomorrow. My partner and I are gonna work on it together after school.

They’ll give me a ride back, don't worry.

<Bruce>

Ok, Tim will wait for you.

Shit.

what were you gonna do now? Tim was already onto you, there’s no way you’ll be able to go out now.

You’re so lost in thought that you don’t even notice Parker sitting down.

“Hey y/n you okay?”

You frown ”I don't think we’ll be able to go out today, my family is on my ass right now”

Why can’t you just have one nice thing, for once?

”oh” Parker pauses, they fiddle with their bag. Parker’s clearly upset about the situation as well. Then suddenly their face lights up.

Parker grins ”What if we go right now?” they exclaim. Quickly packing up their things.

You blink “What do you mean?”

“There’s only 10 minutes until class starts. We can leave right now and the teacher will never know” Excitement exudes from their voice.

Your heart pounds in your chest.

you’ve never even thought of skipping class before. You family would kill you.

But then again they’re the ones that never let you do anything. They control everything

So who cares what they do, you want to have fun.

A grin tugs on your lips. You scramble to pack up your stuff “sure lets do you”.

Parker gives that same childish smile from when they asked you out.

Despite the small voice telling you this is a bad idea, you felt excited, giddy.

you felt free.

You race to Parker’s car. A mix of adrenaline and excitement made you run faster than you ever have before.

Behind you, Parker struggled to up ”Jesus, Y/n— I’ve never seen you run so fast before” they gasped, hands on their knees trying to catch their breath.

You chuckle “sorry I got excited”

Parker shakes his head, same childish smile on their face as they unlock the car, before sitting on the driver’s side.

Before you get in you look back at the school. A shiver runs down your spine and a little voice whispers at you to turn back.

For a moment you pause. If you turn back now you wont be in any trouble.

You shake it off and hop into the seat.

+++

A cozy cafe would be the best choice. It’s close to the school you’ve been there a couple of times, and the food is really good.

As they pull into the parking lot you’re nervous. This is your first date, what is supposed to happen? What’s even the proper etiquette?

You shake your head and brush those thoughts away.

As you and Parker walk inside, you relax. The cafe is warm, with subtle pinks and blues on the wall. It smells like coffee and pastries. Parker picks a table near the back, and you settle down across from them.

Conversation between you two just seems to flow. You never realized how funny they are until today.

Any doubt you had washes away.

Once you’re finished giving the waitress your order, you take a sip of water enjoying Parker’s company. Then the bell to the door jingles.

You briefly glance up— just to see who’s there.

Bruce. Jason. Dick. Tim. Cass. Damian.

They stand in the doorway, eyes locked in on you. Their faces are unreadable.

your stomach drops.

You’re stuck. frozen like a deer in headlights, under the weight of their stare.

How did they know?

They make their way over to your table.

Bruce stops in front of you, towering over the table. “I’m disappointed y/n” his voice is monotone, but you can see the crinkle in his brows.

you just stare back at him. Too stunned to speak.

you try say something, anything. But the words die in your throat.

Dick grabs your arm, his grip is soft but firm. ushering you out of your seat.

Dick and Damian walk you out. You don’t resist, you couldn’t even if you wanted to.

Before you walk out the door you glance back.

Parker is surrounded.

Bruce says something too low for you to hear. Your chest sinks. You can only guess what they’re saying to them.

They look petrified.

It feels like an eternity before everyone else gets into the car.

“You’re grounded” Bruce states. A faint smile, barely there tugs at his lips.

You want to disappear forever.

Being grounded meant one thing.

You’ll never be alone again.

Tears start to slide down your checks, your voice wobbles ”I’m sorry— please don't ground me”

No one speaks.

No one listens.

You glance out the window, watching your freedom slip away.

I got my first request done!!!!!! As you can tell I need a lot of practice with writing short stories/oneshots. I suck at making things fast paced but I did my best. I hope you like it 🐈‍⬛ anon, tysm I had a lot of fun writing it. I also kept Parker GN so that way the reader can truly be any self insert. I’m working on CH. 03 of wicked Game rn so that’ll be what I post next. But if you have any ideas send a request I need more practice.

Also 215 followers! Thank you!!!

#platonic batfam #platonic yandere #yandere batfam #yandere dc #yandere x reader #batfam x reader #gn reader #yandere dc x reader #yandere tim drake #yandere #batfam #batfam x batsis #yandere jason todd #yandere dick grayson #yandere cassandra cain #yandere bruce wayne #platonic #yandere batboys

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surielstea · 1 day ago

Text

Dancing With Fate - III

Read part one and two first!

Pairing: Nyx x TamlinsDaughter!Reader

Summary: Nyx and Reader are advancing in their relationship, now in the Day court where they can spend time together without fear of getting caught.

Warnings: A little heated kissing but this is just a fluff chapter!

A.Note: Guysss this little series is about to get so good and juicy I promise, also please vote on this poll for what you’d like to see in the next chapter!

Wordcount: 7.5k

The morning I was set to leave, Spring Court's estate felt suffocating. The weight of my father's expectations, the ever-watchful eyes of the sentries, the knowledge that I was slipping away not just for a visit—but for him—pressed down on me. I told myself it wasn't a lie. I was going to see Lucien. I was supposed to be there. But deep in my chest, the bond hummed, whispering truths I couldn't ignore.

I could still feel his lips on mine, the press of his hands at my waist, the quiet promise he had left me with before I winnowed away. Three days. It had felt like an eternity. Now that the time had come, I found myself glancing over my shoulder as I crossed the courtyard, my pulse quickening with every step toward the open lands of Spring.

My father had been surprisingly agreeable when I asked to visit Lucien—perhaps because I rarely asked for anything at all. Perhaps because it was easier for him to believe I sought an escape rather than suspect the truth. Either way, the approval had been granted after minor convincing.

I let out a slow breath, focusing on my destination as I prepared to winnow.

The air shimmered around me, and with a final glance at my home—if it could even be called that—I vanished.

The Day Court was a world of golden light and sprawling dunes, a kingdom carved from the sun itself. I landed on one of its marble pathways, the heat instantly settling over my skin like a second layer. White and gold towers stretched toward the sky, the brilliance of them nearly blinding.

Lucien was already waiting.

He leaned against one of the courtyard pillars, arms crossed, his red hair catching the sunlight in hues of copper and fire. He arched a brow the moment I appeared, pushing off the pillar with a lazy sort of grace.

"You're on time," he mused. "Did the skies part for a miracle, or are you actually excited to see me?"

I rolled my eyes, falling into step beside him as he led me toward the palace. "Don't flatter yourself, Lucien. I'm just desperate for decent company."

His chuckle was warm, genuine, but his sharp gaze flickered over me, assessing. Lucien always noticed more than he let on. "And here I thought Spring Court was finally growing on you."

I scoffed. "Like poison."

Lucien didn't argue. He simply guided me through the sunlit halls, the scent of citrus and sea breeze drifting through the open archways. But I could feel the words he wanted to say pressing against his tongue.

"Go on," I said finally. "Say whatever it is you're thinking before you combust."

He cast me a knowing glance. "You have a look about you."

I blinked. "A look?"

"A very particular look." He stopped in front of a set of golden doors, his expression unreadable. "The kind that usually means trouble."

I fought the urge to fidget under his scrutiny. "You're imagining things."

"I've known you since you were six," Lucien huffed a quiet laugh, pushing the doors open. "But if you say so."

The throne room was empty when we stepped inside. Not that I expected anything different—Lucien had told me Helion would be absent for the week, handling an issue near the borders. It made my request easier, less complicated.

"How long will I be staying?" I asked, trailing a hand along the intricate carvings of the marble table.

"As long as you need," Lucien answered, his voice easy, but his gaze watchful. "But your father expects a week. Don't get any ideas."

I turned to him, weighing my words carefully. "You did say I could visit whenever I wanted."

"That, I did," he acknowledged. "But I also know you don't make casual trips anywhere. So either you've grown fond of me—" He smirked. "—or there's something else going on."

I hesitated, the bond thrumming softly in my chest. Nyx would be here soon. I could feel it, that gentle pull like a tide calling me home.

"I just need time," I said finally. "Time away from Spring. Time to breathe."

Lucien studied me, his expression softening just slightly. Then he nodded. "Then you'll have it."

Relief flooded through me, but before I could thank him, the air behind me stirred.

The scent of summer rain and star-kissed skies filled the room.

My breath caught.

Lucien's lips twitched, amusement flashing in his russet eye as he glanced past me. "Right. Now this all makes sense."

I turned, and there he was.

Nyx stood in the archway, clad in deep blue, his dark hair tousled by the wind. His sapphire eyes locked onto mine, something unreadable flickering within them.

A slow, lazy smirk curved his lips. "Miss me, princess?"

Lucien let out a long, dramatic sigh. "Cauldron boil me. You do have a look about you."

Nyx didn't hesitate as he crossed the room, moving with that effortless confidence that made it impossible to look away. Like the world had never given him a reason to doubt himself. Like he belonged here, with me.

The bond hummed softly in my chest as he stopped a few feet away, his gaze settling on Lucien with a quiet, knowing amusement.

Lucien, for his part, didn't seem surprised. He just sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before leveling a sharp look at me. "So. This is why you came."

I winced. "Lucien—"

He held up a hand. "Tell me the truth. How long has this been going on?"

I hesitated, stealing a glance at Nyx, who only smirked. Smug bastard. "It's...new."

Lucien arched a brow. "New?"

"Three days," Nyx supplied unhelpfully, rocking back on his heels. "Well, three days since she kissed me."

Lucien's eye twitched. I swatted Nyx's arm.

"Since we kissed," I corrected.

Lucien's gaze flicked between us, unimpressed. Then he exhaled heavily. "And your parents?"

My stomach twisted. I dropped my gaze, my fingers curling into the sleeves of Nyx's jacket. "None of them know."

Lucien let out a short, humorless laugh. "Gods, just like your parents. Just like them." He ran a hand through his hair, muttering to himself. "Why do both of your families insist on making my life difficult?"

"Lucien—" I started, guilt pressing into my ribs.

"I know, Fawn," he interrupted, shaking his head. "You're good. You're okay."

I exhaled, my shoulders loosening slightly. I hated using Lucien's kindness like this, but I needed this. I needed to be here, needed him.

Lucien gave me a long, considering look before sighing dramatically. "My wife will be thrilled that Nyx is visiting, so I suppose you can stay." He gave a look of acknowledgment to the heir of Night.

Nyx dipped his head in gratitude, but before he could respond, Lucien turned to him fully with a sharp, easy threat. "Though, if you hurt her, and I'll be sending armies to your doorstep."

I groaned. "Uncle—"

"Completely understood," Nyx said, ignoring my protests.

Lucien only huffed, then turned toward the open archway. "Come on, Your Highness, let's get you settled before I regret my entire existence."

Nyx winked at me before following, falling into step beside him as they led me through the sunlit halls.

—

Lucien's home within the Day Court was smaller than the palace itself but no less grand. The rooms were warm, decorated in golds and creams, with sweeping balconies that overlooked the distant dunes.

Lucien pushed open a set of doors, revealing a guest suite. "This is for her," he said pointedly, flicking his gaze to Nyx. "You, however, can take the room down the hall."

Nyx smirked. "Separate rooms? What do you take me for, Vanserra?"

Lucien gave him a deadpan stare. "Someone with a death wish."

I stepped inside before they could continue, rolling my eyes. "You two are worse than children."

Nyx only chuckled, leaning against the doorframe as I took in the space. It was lovely—soft linens, airy curtains, a private balcony that bathed the room in golden light, and a ginormous bathtub sunken into the floor like the room's very own indoor pool. All this for a guest?

I was going to tease Lucien about it but when I turned back, Nyx was watching me carefully.

"We don't have long," he murmured, the humor fading just slightly from his voice.

I swallowed, my fingers tightening around the fabric of my dress. "I know."

Lucien cleared his throat. "Right. That's my cue to leave." He shot me a look, something softer beneath his usual exasperation. "Get some rest, Fawn. Meet me for breakfast in the morning."

I nodded, and with one last warning glance at Nyx, he slipped out.

Silence settled.

Nyx didn't move from the door. He just looked at me, something unreadable in his expression.

Three days. Three days without him, and yet the pull between us was stronger than ever.

I let out a slow breath. "I missed you."

Nyx's smile was slow, knowing. He stepped closer, hands bracing on either side of the doorframe. "Yeah?"

My pulse fluttered. But I refused to look away. "Yeah."

Nyx hummed, gaze sweeping over me like he was committing me to memory.

"C'mere then." He gives me one of those signature smirks.

I let go of the grip I had on my dress as I approached him, suppressed smile on my face.

His eyes follow me, watching my every movement as I come closer but not making a move to cross the threshold of my bedroom.

I peer up at him through my lashes, blinking once, twice. Then, "I missed you too," He murmured, leaning down and sealing a gentle kiss to my aching lips.

I pulled away first, and immediately regretted it the moment his lips left mine.

But he moved away, and with a quiet, secretive grin, he murmured, "Come find me when you can't sleep."

And just like that, he was gone.

—

Sleep evaded me.

I had tried—tried curling into the soft sheets, tried counting my breaths, tried pretending the bond wasn't a tangible thing pulling me toward the other side of the hall. But it was no use. The awareness of him, of Nyx, was a whisper against my skin, a constant hum in my chest.

With a soft exhale, I pushed back the covers and slipped out of my room.

The halls were quiet, bathed in moonlight. The Day Court at night had a different kind of beauty—soft, glowing, endless. I made my way toward his room, heart hammering for reasons I wasn't ready to name.

Nyx must have sensed me before I even reached the door, because the moment I lifted my fist to knock, it swung open.

He stood there, leaning lazily against the frame, shirtless, like he had been waiting. His smirk was immediate. "Couldn't stay away, Princess?"

I rolled my eyes, brushing past him into the room and inviting myself in. "Don't flatter yourself."

His room was similar to mine, only slightly smaller, with the same open balcony letting in the cool night air. The scent of him—night-blooming jasmine, crisp wind, something uniquely Nyx—wrapped around me instantly.

I turned just as he shut the door, crossing his arms. "So, what's keeping you up? Me?" His grin was all arrogance.

I huffed. "The bond."

Nyx's eyes darkened slightly, but he still managed a chuckle. "I am the bond, sweetheart."

Heat bloomed in my chest, but I ignored it, watching as he sat on the edge of the bed with a casual grace. "We should talk about it."

Nyx arched a brow. "About how wildly in love with me you already are?"

I tossed a glare at him. He returned it with a laugh, his sapphire eyes somehow beckoning me closer. "Alright," he said, quieter this time. "Let's talk."

I swallowed, unsure where to begin. "Are we...accepting it while we're here?"

Nyx's expression turned thoughtful, something softer creeping into his gaze. He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "I don't want to rush you," he said, voice low, steady. "But I also don't want to pretend it's not there."

I nodded slowly. That was the problem. The bond was there, a silent, unyielding thing, urging us closer. Ignoring it felt unnatural. But accepting it—fully—was irreversible. And rejecting it, for some reason, was out of the question.

Nyx must have sensed my hesitation because his lips twitched. "You know," he mused, a grin on his lips that could only mean trouble, "Lucien and Elain's rooms are at the opposite end of the hall."

I blinked, confused. "And?"

He smirked. "So if there are any... aftereffects of us accepting the bond, they won't hear a thing."

Heat flooded my face. "Nyx."

He grinned. "Just saying, if you're worried about keeping them up—"

"Nyx." I smacked his arm, and he just laughed, catching my wrist with ease.

With a soft tug, he pulled me forward until I was standing between his legs. My breath hitched as he peered up at me, his grip warm, steady.

"You're overthinking it," he murmured.

I bit my lip tentatively. "It's a lot to think about."

His hands slid up my arms, slow and careful, like he was mapping out the places he could touch, where I would let him. "Then don't think," he whispered. "Just...stay."

I hesitated.

Then, finally, I let out a breath and climbed onto the bed beside him.

Nyx shifted easily, stretching out against the pillows, one arm behind his head as he watched me settle in. "See? Not so bad."

I rolled onto my side, facing him. "Don't get used to this."

"Too late," he said, grinning.

A comfortable silence stretched between us, the weight of the bond settling into something warm, something oddly familiar.

Then—

"What if we did accept it?" I asked softly, tracing patterns into the sheets with a fingertip.

Nyx was quiet for a moment. When I glanced up, his gaze had softened, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes.

"I think," he murmured, reaching over to brush his knuckles against my cheek, "it would feel like this."

"Like what?"

His thumb skimmed the corner of my mouth, his voice dropping to something barely above a whisper.

"Like something I don't ever want to stop."

A shiver ran through me, but I forced myself to scoff. "You're so dramatic."

He chuckled, his hand drifting away, but not before his fingers brushed against my wrist, lingering. "You love it."

I did. I really, really did.

Nyx was still watching me, his expression unreadable but utterly devastating. His fingers, still barely brushing against mine, curled slightly, testing.

I should have pulled away. Should have ignored the way the space between us felt unbearable, like a string stretched too tight, ready to snap.

Instead, I turned my hand over, letting our fingers fully intertwine.

Nyx inhaled sharply.

His other hand lifted, tracing the shape of my jaw before tilting my chin up ever so slightly. His touch was featherlight, like he was waiting for me to pull back, to stop this before it started.

I didn't. I couldn't.

His eyes darkened, and I barely had time to take a breath before his lips brushed against mine.

Soft, at first. A question. I answered by pressing closer, hand against his hard chest.

Nyx groaned, low in his throat, and then he was kissing me in earnest, his hand sliding to cup the back of my neck, pulling me flush against him.

Heat curled through me, my body igniting at the sheer rightness of it—of him. His lips moved against mine with slow, devastating precision, coaxing, deepening.

I gasped as his teeth grazed my lower lip, and he took the opportunity to press even closer, his tongue sweeping into my mouth in a way that had my fingers running up his nape and tangling in his hair, pulling, needing.

Nyx growled softly, his grip tightening, his body shifting so that I was beneath him now, the weight of him pressing into me in the most delicious way.

I should have stopped him. Should have reminded him that Lucien and Elain were likely eavesdropping, that this wasn't what we came here for.

But all I could do was gasp against his lips, drowning in him as he kissed me like he'd been waiting a lifetime to do so.

And maybe he had.

The tether between us hummed, alive, crackling like a storm ready to break. My entire body felt like it was on fire, burning for something I wasn't sure I was ready for—but gods, did I want it.

Nyx pulled away just enough to press his forehead against mine, his breaths ragged, uneven. "Tell me to stop," he whispered, his lips barely brushing against mine. "Tell me to stop, and I will."

I didn't say anything.

Because I didn't want him to stop.

Instead, I tightened my grip in his hair and kissed him again.

Nyx practically purred, deepening the kiss instantly, his hands sliding down my sides, gripping my waist like he was trying to anchor himself. I whimpered as he tilted my head back, his lips tracing a path along my jaw, down my throat—

I shuddered. "Nyx—"

He froze, his breathing heavy. "Too much?"

I hesitated, my mind hazy, body thrumming, aching. I didn't want to stop, didn't want this night to end—but I knew if we kept going, if I let him keep kissing me like this, there would be no turning back.

Slowly, I nodded.

Nyx let out a shaky breath, then pressed a lingering kiss to my shoulder before rolling onto his back, dragging me with him. His arm curled around my waist, keeping me tucked against his side.

I pressed my face into his chest, inhaling deeply. His heart was racing.

"Sleep, Princess," he murmured against my hair, pressing a final kiss to my forehead.

I exhaled softly, my body still humming, my lips still tingling, my heart still pounding.

But as Nyx's warmth surrounded me, as his arms tightened slightly around me, I found that—for the first time all night—I was finally at peace.

And sleep came easily.

The warmth of the Day Court sun streamed in through the open balcony doors, golden light spilling over the plush bedding and dancing across the smooth marble floors. A gentle breeze carried the scent of citrus and wildflowers, and the distant sound of birdsong filled the air—soft, melodic, impossibly peaceful.

I stretched beneath the silk sheets, the remnants of sleep clinging to my limbs. Nyx's steady breathing was warm against my neck, his arm a heavy weight draped over my waist. The bond hummed between us, quiet, content.

Carefully, I slipped from his grasp, his fingers twitching slightly in protest but aside from that he didn't stir.

I smiled to myself, watching as he burrowed further into the pillows that likely smelled of me, the golden light turning his midnight-dark hair almost copper in the morning glow.

For a male who spent so much time under the stars, he certainly slept through the hours of night like a log.

Shaking my head fondly, I padded across the room, stepping out into the hallway and making my way back to my own quarters across the hall.

The Day Court truly was beautiful in the morning—the soft glow of the sun filtering through sheer golden curtains, the air crisp and warm all at once. By the time I reached my room, I was fully awake, the peaceful hum of the court settling over me like a second skin.

I dressed in a white silk gown, the fabric flowing like liquid over my frame, cinched at the waist with a delicate golden belt. My jewelry was plentiful—thin, glimmering chains draped over my collarbones, golden cuffs sliding up my arms, rings adorning my fingers.

I had just finished fastening the final piece of jewelry when the door behind me creaked open.

I caught his reflection in the mirror before he could even enter.

Nyx stood in the doorway, his hair an absolute mess, his eyes heavy with sleep. He hadn't bothered with a shirt, his bare chest golden in the sunlight, the tattooed whorls of the night sky on his skin dark against the warm glow. He was beautiful—in that utterly devastating, ruinous kind of way.

He said nothing as he crossed the room, his steps slow, languid, his body still half-asleep.

Then his arms were sliding around my shoulders, his bare chest pressing against my back, his face tucking into the crook of my neck. His lips brushed against my skin—soft, lingering.

"Come back to bed," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.

I smiled, meeting his gaze in the mirror as he sighed against my skin. "You are such a night owl."

One of his hands trailed up my arm, fingers ghosting over the golden cuffs there. "That's because I am Night," he grumbled. "It's unnatural for me to be awake this early."

I huffed a quiet laugh, reaching up to lace my fingers with his where they rested on my shoulder. "And yet, you're awake."

"I wouldn't be if you hadn't abandoned me." His lips brushed over my throat again, slow and deliberate, sending a shiver down my spine.

"I have breakfast with Lucien," I reminded him, though the words were already losing their strength.

Nyx hummed, as if considering coercing me out of that particular plan. His grip tightened slightly, his fingers curling around my waist as he exhaled against my skin. "Or," he suggested, his voice a low murmur, "you could stay."

I turned in his arms, pressing a lingering kiss to his lips before pulling back just enough to murmur, "I'll be back soon."

Nyx sighed, dramatically, his hands tracing slow circles along my back. "You're cruel," he muttered.

I grinned, pressing another kiss to the corner of his mouth. "You'll live."

"Debatable."

I rolled my eyes, but before I could move, he kissed me again—slow, lazy, lingering. By the time he pulled away, I had half a mind to actually abandon breakfast.

But I forced myself to step back, smoothing my gown as I gave him a knowing look. "Go back to sleep, Night Prince."

Nyx smirked, his gaze sweeping over me in a way that was far too awake for someone who had been dead to the world only minutes ago. "You'll come find me after?"

I nodded. "I'll come find you after."

Seemingly satisfied, he took a slow step backward, his lips twitching. "Enjoy breakfast, princess," he said, eyes twinkling with mischief. "Don't miss me too much."

I barely resisted the urge to throw a pillow at him as I slipped out the door.

The Day Court's dining terrace overlooked a sprawling garden, the morning sunlight painting the marble floors in warm golds and soft whites. A faint citrus breeze carried through the open-air space, mingling with the scent of freshly baked bread, honeyed fruit, and roasted coffee.

Lucien was already seated at the table, a cup of tea in one hand, a knowing smirk playing at his lips.

"Good morning, Fawn," he greeted, setting his cup down as I slid into the chair across from him.

I sighed, reaching for a slice of peach from the array of food laid before us. "I knew I should have stayed in bed."

Lucien chuckled, reaching for his own plate. "You wound me. I would have thought you'd missed me."

"I did," I admitted, which earned me a pleased look. "But I also knew that my first morning here would be spent with you poking at me like a bored hound with a bone."

Lucien hummed, popping a grape into his mouth as he leaned back in his chair, one arm draped lazily over the armrest. "You make it sound so terrible."

I gave him a dry look. "You live for gossip."

"And you have been supplying me with an endless amount of it," he countered, flashing a sharp grin. "You and the heir to the Night Court, sneaking around behind your father's back?" He shook his head, clicking his tongue. "Do you know how much restraint it takes for me not to send a letter to Tamlin about this?"

I nearly choked on my tea. "You wouldn't."

Lucien's russet eye twinkled with mischief. "Wouldn't I?"

I narrowed my eyes at him, but there was no real threat in my stare. He was teasing—mostly. "You wouldn't because I'm your favorite."

Lucien let out a bark of laughter. "You think that's enough to keep me quiet?"

I plucked a croissant from the basket, tearing off a piece with deliberate slowness. "I also brought Nyx with me, which means Elain is getting a visit from her favorite nephew," I said sweetly. "And I doubt she'd be pleased if his visit was cut short by some ill-timed news reaching Spring."

Lucien raised a brow, amused. "Using my wife against me? Low blow."

"You leave me no choice."

He chuckled, shaking his head before taking a sip of his tea. "Fine, your secret is safe with me. For now."

I exhaled in relief, but he wasn't done.

"So," he continued, smirking, "do you always sneak into his bed, or was last night a special occasion?"

I set my croissant down with exaggerated care. "You are insufferable."

Lucien grinned, positively delighted. "Oh, come now. I'm merely curious."

I sighed, shaking my head. "And here I thought you wanted to talk about Spring."

Lucien's expression didn't shift, but I saw the flicker of something—wariness, perhaps, or exhaustion—pass through his russet eye before he settled back into that smooth, unbothered demeanor.

"You want to talk about Spring?" he mused, sipping at his tea. "Now that's a first."

I hesitated, fingers toying with the edge of my napkin. "It's been... stable?"

Lucien huffed a quiet laugh. "Stable is one word for it."

I lifted a brow, silently urging him to continue.

He sighed, swirling his tea in his cup. "Your father is as he always is. Withdrawn. Distrustful. Trying to mend what little he has left, though his attempts have been... half-hearted, at best." A pause, then a softer, "He does love you, you know. Don't take that for granted."

I looked down at my plate, a strange weight pressing against my ribs. "I know, I try not to. I love him too."

Lucien sighed, setting his cup down. "Well, that was depressing."

I let out a weak laugh, grateful for the shift in subject. "You brought it up."

"Yes, but now I regret it," he muttered before shooting me a sidelong glance, that familiar smirk returning. "Luckily, we have a much juicier topic to discuss."

I groaned. "Lucien—"

He ignored my warning tone, lips twitching. "How was sleeping with the Night Court's heir?"

"I hate you."

"Did you snuggle?" He grinned. "You did, didn't you?"

I picked up my spoon, debating throwing it at his head.

Lucien laughed, positively beaming. "Oh, this is delightful."

"You are the worst."

"I am," he agreed, unbothered. "But I'm also right."

I sighed, shaking my head. "I am never telling you anything ever again."

Lucien simply smiled, far too pleased with himself.

And somehow, despite his relentless teasing, breakfast was... nice. Easy, even.

Lucien had always been that way—quick-witted, sharp-tongued, but warm beneath it all. And for the first time in a long while, I allowed myself to enjoy that warmth, even as he smirked knowingly over the rim of his tea cup.

The soft pad of footsteps against marble had me glancing up just as Elain entered the terrace, sunlight catching in the golden waves of her hair. She was radiant in the morning glow, dressed in a pale yellow gown that complemented the warmth of her brown eyes.

Lucien's teasing stopped instantly.

His gaze softened, his entire being seeming to realign as he turned toward his mate. The smug amusement he had wielded so effortlessly moments ago melted into something quieter, something devotional, as if Elain were the only thing in existence.

"Good morning, my love," Lucien greeted, rising smoothly to pull out a chair for her.

Elain smiled at him, a soft, knowing thing, before placing a kiss on his cheek and settling into her seat. "Good morning," she replied before glancing at me, her expression warm. "I'm so happy you're here."

I smiled back, genuinely. "I'm happy to be here."

She took a sip of tea before asking, "What do you have planned for today?"

I glanced at Lucien, who was too busy staring at his mate to contribute to the conversation, then looked back at Elain with an amused huff. "That depends on what there is to do in the Day Court."

Elain brightened. "Oh, there's so much. The markets are always lovely in the mornings, and later today there will be a performance in the amphitheater—music, dance, sometimes storytelling, depending on the day. We could also visit the gardens."

At that, Lucien seemed to shake himself from his daze just long enough to say, "She loves the gardens."

Elain laughed softly, reaching over to squeeze his hand. "I do."

The moment their hands touched, Lucien's thumb traced small circles over her knuckles, his russet eye drinking her in as if he hadn't seen her in ages, as if she were the only thing tethering him to this world.

I looked away, feeling like an intruder on something sacred.

Instead, I focused on my tea, swirling it in my cup before Elain's next words had me stiffening.

"And what about you?" she asked gently. "What do you have planned with Nyx?"

Lucien tensed beside her at the mention of his nephew but, surprisingly, didn't interrupt.

I hesitated before answering. "I... don't know yet."

Elain tilted her head slightly, studying me. "You two seem happy."

A small, shy smile tugged at my lips despite myself. "It's... new."

Her expression softened. "New can be wonderful."

I glanced at Lucien then, at the way his entire world seemed to orbit Elain, at the ease with which they simply existed together.

They had a love that was constant, unshaken. One that didn't need to be loud or demanding, because it was felt—in the way Lucien always reached for Elain without thinking, in the way she always seemed to understand him without words.

I wanted that.

I wanted something sure. Something safe. Something like them.

Elain must have seen something in my expression, because she reached across the table, squeezing my hand. "You'll find your way," she assured me, voice as soft as the morning light.

I swallowed, nodding. "I hope so."

Breakfast ended not long after, Lucien and Elain caught in their own little world as I excused myself.

I walked back to my room slowly, heart and mind tangled in thoughts of what I wanted—of him.

And of whether or not we would ever have something like the love I had just witnessed.

I pushed open the door to my room, the silk of my gown whispering against the marble floor as I stepped inside. The first thing I noticed was the mess of dark hair sprawled across my pillows, the sheets tangled around long limbs and bare skin.

Nyx had crawled into bed. My bed.

I crossed my arms, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. "You do know you have your own room, right?"

A low, sleepy groan rumbled from the depths of my blankets, his face still buried in my pillow. "Too far," he mumbled.

I snorted. "It's across the hall."

"Exactly," he sighed dramatically, cracking one sleepy eye open. His voice was heavy with drowsiness, warm and lazy in a way that made something in my chest tighten. "Besides, your bed smells better."

I raised a brow. "That's not a compliment if you're just stealing."

He grinned, stretching like a cat before reaching a hand out for me. "Come here."

"Absolutely not."

His lips tilted into something smug. "Oh?"

"Nyx, it's nearly noon."

"So?" He patted the space beside him. "Come lay down."

I laughed, shaking my head as I stepped closer to the bed. "You are so lazy."

"Excuse me," he feigned offense, propping himself up on an elbow, hair a tousled mess. "I am strategic in my rest."

I huffed, sitting on the edge of the bed, but the moment I did, he was moving—strong arms wrapping around my waist as he pulled me down beside him.

"Nyx!" I yelped, but he only laughed, tucking his face into the crook of my neck.

"There we go," he murmured, his lips pressing against my skin in a way that was entirely unfair. "Much better."

I sighed, pretending to be put out even as I melted into the warmth of him. "You are impossible."

"You love it."

I rolled my eyes, but before I could retort, he pressed a slow, lingering kiss to my jaw. The argument died in my throat.

"You look beautiful," he murmured against my skin, his voice still thick with sleep. "Does every court suit you? Or are you just naturally perfect?"

A rush of heat curled in my chest. "Flattery will not get you out of trouble."

He hummed, brushing his nose along my cheek before stealing a kiss from my lips. "Five minutes," he mused, brushing another kiss over the corner of my mouth. "Just five and then we can get up."

"Fine. Five minutes." I lean into him, melting into the warmth that was his skin.

He kissed me again, slower this time as if savoring the remnants of whatever sweetness still lingered. "Lucien didn't give you a hard time, did he?"

I huffed a laugh, playing with the strands of dark hair at the nape of his neck. "Lucien is always a menace."

Nyx chuckled, his breath warm against my lips. "I bet he was insufferable."

"He was fine," I admitted, tracing a lazy pattern against his bare shoulder. "Elain joined us."

He tilted his head, brows lifting slightly. "Oh?"

I nodded. "She asked about you."

His lips curled. "And what did you say?"

"That you are insufferable, whiny, and prone to excessive dramatics."

Nyx gasped, pressing a hand to his chest. "Whiny?"

I grinned. "You are."

He narrowed his eyes playfully. "So harsh, princess."

I laughed, but the sound faded as he brushed his fingers over my cheek, his expression softening. "Did you sleep well?"

I hesitated before nodding. "I did."

"Good." He kissed me again, slow and sweet, his thumb brushing against my jaw. "I like waking up with you—even though you left me before I could."

Something inside me melted at the confession, at the sincerity in his voice.

I bit my lip, trying to fight back a smile. "You're so soft when you're sleepy."

He groaned, flopping onto his back. "And the moment is ruined."

I laughed, rolling onto my side to look down at him. "Come on, Nyx. Admit it."

His arm flung over his eyes. "Never."

I grinned, leaning down to press a teasing kiss against his jaw. "I like it."

His breath hitched slightly, but his arms wound around me again, pulling me closer.

And as I settled into the warmth of him, into the safety of his embrace, I realized—this, whatever we were becoming, whatever this bond between us was shaping into—felt new and foreign.

But gods, it was lovely.

After fifteen minutes Nyx still had me caged against him, his arms wrapped securely around my waist as if he had no intention of letting me leave. Every time I so much as shifted, his grip tightened, and a pleased hum rumbled in his throat.

"Nyx," I warned, pressing my hands against his bare chest, though my voice lacked any real heat.

"Mmm," he murmured lazily, nuzzling into the crook of my neck, his lips ghosting over my skin. "Five more minutes."

I huffed, though the way my body betrayed me—melting into his warmth, my fingers tracing the lines of his shoulders—was not helping my case. "You said that fifteen minutes ago."

"I don't recall."

I let out an exaggerated sigh. "You're impossible."

He lifted his head slightly, his messy dark hair falling into his sleepy eyes. "And yet, you're still here."

I scowled at him, but it was utterly ineffective given the way my face was burning.

His grin widened. "You like this."

"No, I don't."

Nyx hummed, unconvinced. "Sure you don't." Then, as if to prove his point, he kissed me—slow and indulgent, his lips warm and sure against mine. My breath caught, my fingers tightening against his skin.

His hands roamed lazily, tracing along my waist, my back, settling just beneath the curve of my ribs. "You're so soft," he mused between kisses, his voice dripping with that infuriating smugness. "So warm."

I glared at him, my face burning. "You're so full of yourself."

His chuckle was dark and teasing. "Only because you make it so easy, Princess."

I groaned, flopping onto my back as he propped himself up on an elbow, hovering over me with a stupidly satisfied expression. "You are so lucky left my daggers in Spring."

Nyx only grinned, dipping down to nip at my jaw, his voice warm with amusement. "I'd like to see you try."

I shoved at his shoulder, but he barely budged. His weight was solid and steady against me, and I knew—knew—that I could have pushed him away if I wanted to. But I didn't.

Nyx's fingers skimmed along my arm, down to my wrist, to where he laced our fingers together. "Are you going to stay here with me?"

"I have things to do, you know."

"Like what?" He raised a brow, his nose brushing against mine. "Surely nothing more interesting than me."

I snorted. "You'd be surprised."

He gasped, pressing a hand to his chest. "Now that is just cruel."

I rolled my eyes, lifting a hand to comb through his messy hair, smoothing it back. His eyes fluttered shut at the touch, and my heart did something ridiculous in my chest.

I swallowed, brushing my thumb over his cheekbone. "You're so clingy."

His eyes opened, a lazy smirk curling his lips. "And you love it."

I huffed, but my lips twitched despite myself. "Maybe a little."

Nyx's expression softened, his fingers brushing my cheek as he leaned in. "Good."

His mouth pressed against mine again, stealing whatever breath I had left. My heart raced, my fingers fisting in the fabric of the sheets as his hand traced down, over the silk of my gown, teasing along my thigh. His touch burned—not in a way that made me want to pull away, but in a way that made me want more.

And that should have terrified me. It didn't.

It only made me want to hold onto him tighter, to let myself fall.

I exhaled shakily when he finally pulled away, his lips brushing the corner of my mouth. He was still watching me, waiting.

And gods, I knew. I knew.

The mating bond shimmered between us, pulsing, undeniable. I could feel it, pulling me closer to him with every breath, every heartbeat.

I wanted it.

Screw that our parents didn't know. Screw that this would be irreversible. That once we accepted it, there was no undoing it, no way for them to separate us even if they tried.

I wanted this. I wanted him.

And for the first time in my life, I wasn't afraid of what that meant.

"Nyx?"

"Princess?" he drawled, his voice thick with warmth, teasing as he brushed his fingers over my wrist.

I hesitated for a moment before saying, "Can you teach me how to block you out of my head?"

Nyx's lips twitched. "You mean my Daemati powers?"

I nodded. "Yes."

He hummed in thought, tilting his head. "Of course. Though, why the sudden interest?"

I kept my expression carefully neutral, knowing full well he'd see right through me if I wasn't careful. "Just seems like a good skill to have."

Nyx studied me for a long moment before his lips curved in amusement. "You're a terrible liar."

I scowled. "Am not."

He laughed, pressing a kiss to my temple. "Alright, alright. Come here."

I let him shift us so I was sitting cross-legged in front of him, his hands resting lightly on my knees. His gaze softened, the usual teasing glint dimming just slightly as he said, "I want you to imagine a wall in your mind. Something strong. Something unbreakable."

"A wall," I repeated, frowning.

"Yes. Picture it. And then focus on reinforcing it. Make it thick, make it impenetrable." His thumb traced circles against my knee as he watched me carefully.

I closed my eyes, inhaling slowly as I tried to summon that wall.

"Good," he murmured. "Now, I'm going to push just a little—try not to let me in."

I gritted my teeth as I felt the gentle probing at the edges of my mind. It was strange—like a featherlight touch, testing the defenses I'd barely managed to put up.

"Your wall is shaky," Nyx noted, the laughter in his voice evident. "I could break through it in an instant."

I cracked an eye open to glare at him. "You're so encouraging."

He grinned. "I'm just being honest."

I huffed, closing my eyes again and focusing, really focusing, on that barrier. I imagined thick, towering walls, impenetrable and unwavering. I strengthened them, bracing them against his presence.

Nyx hummed in approval. "Better."

A moment passed.

Then another.

And then—

"Huh," he muttered.

I opened my eyes to find him blinking at me, mildly impressed. "What?"

"You actually did it." He tapped his temple. "Can't hear a thing."

I grinned, triumphant. "Told you I could do it."

Nyx chuckled, his hands sliding up to my waist as he pulled me toward him. "I could still break it." He makes clear. "But now I can't hear em' unless I want to."

I smiled softly, "Good enough for me."

Then he kissed me.

Slow and deep, as if savoring the taste of victory along with me. His hands traced up my spine, his touch warm and steady as he pressed me closer. I melted into him, tilting my head to give him better access as his lips moved against mine with aching patience.

It was a reward, and I greedily took it.

When we finally parted, his lips trailed down my jaw, over the sensitive skin of my neck. "I should teach you things more often," he murmured against my skin, the words sending a shiver down my spine.

I swatted at his shoulder, but it was weak at best. "Behave."

He laughed, the sound muffled against my throat as he kissed a slow path back up to my mouth. "Not a chance."

I sighed, allowing myself to collapse onto the mattress, tugging him down with me. Nyx followed willingly, draping himself over me as if he had no intention of moving anytime soon.

"So," he mused, his lips brushing my shoulder, my collarbone, my jaw. "What do you want to do today?"

We eventually collapsed back onto the bed, tangled together. His hands roamed lazily, his lips finding every inch of bare skin he could reach. Between kisses, we murmured about what we could do today—halfheartedly listing off places we knew we wouldn't go, tasks we knew we wouldn't complete.

"We could go for a ride?" I suggested idly.

Nyx hummed, lips brushing my collarbone. "Mmm, sounds nice." His fingers traced circles on my hip. "Or we could stay right here."

"Lazy," I teased, though I had no intention of moving either.

He nipped at my shoulder in retaliation, making me squeak. "Not lazy," he corrected. "Just—" He kissed the corner of my mouth. "Comfortable." Another kiss on my cheek. "Perfectly, completely comfortable."

My heart thudded, my fingers tightening around his bicep. I could still feel the bond shimmering between us, waiting.

Waiting for me. Because he seemed to have already decided that accepting it was his only choice, the only one he'd acknowledge at least.

Nyx pulled back just enough to meet my gaze, his expression soft, but unreadable. "What?" he murmured.

I swallowed hard, smoothing my hand over his chest. "Nothing," I whispered.

Not yet.

He searched my face, but I knew he wouldn't find anything—not now. Because I had learned how to block him out. Because the next time I opened my mind to him, it would be on my terms. A choice. A gift.

Nyx pressed one last kiss to my lips before sighing, letting his head drop against the pillow. I curled into his warmth, letting my eyes drift shut, a secret burning in my chest.

The next time I let him in would be when I was ready to accept the bond. And I wanted it to be somewhat of a surprise.

Which meant he had to stay out of my mind—just for a few days. Just long enough for me to do what I had already decided.

What I knew I wanted.

I glanced at him then, at the male who had stolen my heart in the span of a few weeks, at the way he watched me with that easy, knowing smirk—completely unaware of what was coming.

A slow smile curled on my lips.

What I wanted.

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transmutationisms · 3 days ago

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Hey. So that claim that stimulants do completely different things for people who “have ADHD” and “don’t have ADHD” is obviously bullshit but I was wondering if you happen to have read anything I could refer to about that

Okay I want to try using this to break down how I would actually approach this type of question, inspired by some posts I've seen recently about how to read and analyse things that are wrong / bad / liberal.

I don't have, off the top of my head, a published & refereed source that discusses this particular claim. I'm pretty certain there is at least one such thing out there. But I'm also pretty confident it won't be very good. The claim it's responding to is relatively historically recent, & is cloaked in still-fashionable neurobiological terms. Also, the literature on ADHD is bad in general, and so is the general quality of the kinds of imaging studies that are cited to support such claims about 'brain differences.'

If I were writing a literature review or a historiography, here is the part where I would need to go find these things anyway. Then I would have to explain how they make their arguments and what's missing, and depending on the scope of the piece I might have to explain my own philosophical / political position, and advance my methodological critique of the literature I just spent several days finding & reading.

Fortunately I'm writing a tumblr post & my sense is your actual question is "how can I better argue against this obviously bullshit claim," so I don't have to do any of that. There's not really much point sinking that kind of time and effort into finding a source I already think is unlikely to adequately make the argument I'm looking for anyway.

Instead, I would now look at the claim itself. What must be true in order for it to hold?

ADHD brains differ from non-ADHD brains

This difference is relevant to the action/metabolism of stimulant drugs

Okay, claim two on that list requires dealing with psychopharmacology & very exact physiological mechanisms, which means a shitload more reading and most of it punishingly dry and technical. Sad & bad.

Fortunately, though, I already know -- from every reading ever, as well as my experience existing on earth -- that ADHD is not diagnosed by any sort of brain scan, anatomical observation, blood test, etc, but by subjective (yes, even if they made you do it on a computer) clinical observation. Hmm, that's super weird for something that is a 'brain difference.'

I also know that psychiatric categories are difficult to correlate with biological observations even where those observations do exist, because an imaging study on ADHD is necessarily only pulling the 'ADHD sample' from people already diagnosed with ADHD. It's circular. Philosophically this is the same problem I laid out in section one of 'What is an alien?' (which you can read & understand even if the main topic of the essay doesn't interest you).

And I also know that brain imaging studies generally are riddled with serious methodological flaws (post discusses the dead salmon study among others) and don't actually produce meaningful, replicable biological distinctions in any kind of correlation with psychiatric categories (also, variation within categories is also very high).

Oh, wait. Now the claim above looks like patent nonsense with zero philosophical foundations. The burden of proof is on whoever's making that claim, & the basic underlying principles are wrong. Yayyyy.

This exercise means 1) I've sat down and reasoned through my own opinion, giving me clarity on why I think what I do and what evidence would change my mind and 2) from now on, when I see someone else make the claim I'm responding to here, I'll know off the bat that they haven't done the same & are starting from a very credulous attitude toward very low-quality research. And I didn't do this by trawling the literature until I found the exact thing I was looking for, but by thinking through the arguments and evaluating a body of literature that is generally explicitly hostile to the kinds of critiques I make & respect.

#psychiatry #research and methods

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callmeizukunotdeku · 3 days ago

Text

Okay, but can you imagine a world where Jason comes back and decides proper punishment is an eye for an eye?

Bruce may not be perfect but boy does he know how to torture himself.

Bruce might not have killed the Joker, but he went off the fucking rails after Jason died.

If Jason came back--if he told Bruce that his sweet little boy was back? There's no world in which Bruce wouldn't welcome him back with open arms.

So he plans it: he'll show Bruce he's alive, cry a bit over Tim as Robin, and make Bruce send the kid packing. Then, he'll push. He'll tell Bruce how unsafe he feels knowing the Joker is still alive. How that man needs to be delt with in the same way Jason was delt with.

He'll push Bruce closer and closer to his breaking point and then, to freshen the grief, he'll kill Tim.

Do it as the Red Hood.

Remind Bruce what happens when he puts people in the suit.

Imagine that's his plan.

Then, imagine how surprised he'll be when he announces his revival and Tim gets him somewhere private.

"You know, Placeholder, I don't really like you that much. Forgive me for not wanting to talk to anyone who's not family right now, but--"

"No," Tim interrupts, "no, I know. And I'll make it quick." He takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I can't imagine what you must have gone through to die and come back and see someone else in your suit like that. If I knew you'd be back, I'd have found another way to hold him back. I just...wanted to give a formal apology before going home. I know that nothing I do could ever rectify what my taking your place must have felt like to you, and I'm sorry for that, but if you ever need anything, I'll be right next door."

Jason furrowed his brow. He was planning on waiting a couple days to plant the idea of Tim leaving in Bruce's head. He didn't anticipate Tim cornering him the first day he was back. "What?"

"I mean, I know I don't really have anything unique to offer, but the offer still stands." He watched Jason for a moment, hoping, most likely, for some reaction of 'no, please, stay in my suit, in my house, where you don't belong' or 'i don't entirely hate your guts'. Tim looked away. "Um, right, so--I'm going to leave while it's still light outside. It's--I'm glad I got to talk to you," Tim said, with something nauseatingly genuine in his eyes, "goodbye."

Good manners be damned, Jason didn't say 'goodbye' back. He let Tim leave without a word.

He expected Bruce to comment on it, but he didn't even bat an eye, just kept staring at Jason like he was something precious.

After it goes on for long enough, Jason finally asks, "You good, B?"

And all he can say is, "You're home."

And he is.

Bruce announces him as alive again on the grounds that it's Gotham and weirder things have happened. Since he's seventeen, he gets to go back to school.

Since Tim is fifteen, he's there too.

"Placeholder," Jason calls him, whenever he sees him--tries to torture him with the word.

And Tim looks at him sadly, "I'm sorry."

Every fucking time.

Tim doesn't even try to justify it or anything. Just apologizes. Agrees that he is a placeholder and apologizes for it.

And it pisses him off, but Jason doesn't lay a hand on him.

Not yet.

He keeps hinting to Bruce.

I'm not safe with the Joker alive.

I can't stay in Gotham if the Joker's alive.

I'll leave you if the Joker's alive.

I'll make sure everyone will.

And he does.

It's laughably easy to make his way into Drake Manor.

Tim seems surprised to see the Red Hood.

He's less surprised when he learns it's Jason.

Jason beats him into the fucking floor and the kid whimpers and wines, but doesn't call for his mommy or daddy.

Jason leaves happy.

He's still happy the next day when he doesn't see Tim in the halls. The boy's absence is expected, even if the lack of news about his placeholder being found beaten and bloody is, for lack of a better word, disappointing.

It's a full week later when Jason is scrolling through news articles and the whole world stops around him.

The Drakes Set to Return to Gotham after Seven Months in Iran

His brain lets him process the smaller realization first.

How he came back six months ago and how Tim has been alone for half a year and his only familiar face was Jason in the halls.

Placeholder.

I'm sorry.

And then, he pukes.

Because Jason beat Tim halfway to hell, but, as long as someone was there to see him in the morning, call an ambulance and make sure he'd get help, Tim would have been fine.

A week, Jason thinks, and then he's running to Drake Manor. It's all too easy to break in, again. To find Tim, again.

Laying where Jason left him.

Jason swallows before kneeling next to Tim.

He moves Tim's hair out of his face and--

And he's still warm.

A quick check confirms that, yes, yes, there's a pulse, and then everything happens in flashes.

Call 911.

Get in the ambulance.

Sit in the hospital waiting room until Bruce bursts in.

"I was worried sick," Bruce says, "what happened?"

"Tim was attacked," he says, quietly.

Bruce nods, "And you? How are you doing?"

"I'm fine." I attacked him.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine." Guilty.

Bruce waits over him until the nurse finally reports that Tim's out of his first round of surgery and is, for the most part, stable.

Jason asks to see Tim and is denied.

"Only family can visit," the nurse says, and Jason looks to Bruce.

In Bruce's ear, he whispers, "Tim was under your guardianship while he war Robin, right? Can you get us in?"

"I can't," Bruce says, "He's not mine. He never was. Tim has always lived with his parents."

Listen... "Placeholder" is a way more fucking tragic nickname/title than "Replacement," and thus this is the name Jason should use for Tim if ya want to max out the angst.

Because there is value in being a replacement. They aren't the original, but a replacement has their own identity. They could be better or a newer model or simply different. There's no expectation for the replacement to be traded back either (though a replacement might get traded for the next replacement). A replacement is compared to the original but they are also accepted as their own identity.

A placeholder, on the other hand, "occupies the position/place of another person." That place isn't theirs. That place is temporary. There's no value to their own existence/identity, and they don't bring anything new to the table as they are. They are a stand-in for something else. They aren't wanted or desired as they are but rather for who they are standing in for.

"Placeholder" is certainly worse :)

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johnwickb1tsch · 2 days ago

Text

lessons in anatomy XIII

a yandere art professor John Wick x drawing model muse! reader AU... (also featuring Matt from River's Edge. If you haven't seen the movie that's ok, I will fill in the gaps as we go...) warnings: dark adult themes, violence, sex, drugs, yandere shit. plz don't read if u can't handle it ->chapter map

XIII.

-You thought you’d done a good job talking yourself up to it, but you are so embarrassed, when you get up on the model stand, and it's time to start class…and you simply can't do it. You freeze, absolutely unable to bring yourself to take off your robe, to expose yourself again after your near brush with…whatever the fuck those creeps intended to do with you.

“I…”

You don't even know where to begin to explain. You wait for John to say something cutting or sarcastic. To be a jerk about it, annoyed that you're stalling his class.

You watch warily as he approaches the model stand, hands in his pockets, the very picture of the brooding artist. Yet when he looks up at you…there’s an empathy in his dark eyes that squeezes your heart with a fist. He could have pushed you over with a feather when he asks, “Are you alright, y/n?”

Sadly, you shake your head, hugging yourself. “I’m…not sure I can do this right now. I'm so sorry.” You sway on your feet, and he must sense something wild inside you, a mare threatening to bolt, or a statue ready to tumble, because he holds up his hands as though to steady you–those large, eloquent hands with their impossibly long fingers.

You don’t know what possesses you, when you take his fingers in yours, holding on to him like he is a life line. They’re strong, and calloused, and for the first time since waking up after your mishap you feel somewhat anchored to the world around you.

He lets you hold on to him, his expression softening for you the way it used to, before you had your heated little tiff over Matt’s work. His voice is low, and calming, acting like a balm for your troubled soul.

“That's ok, y/n. It's your choice. Do you maybe think you could sit for us with your robe on?”

You think about it a few moments before nodding.

“Alright.” He squeezes your fingers encouragingly. “Let's do some warm ups, then we'll pick a pose.”

You nod, and somehow, this small gesture of support empowers you again to do your thing.

- You're not sure how he knew you needed it, but in the end you decide on a reclining pose. John produces blankets and pillows from the closet to make you a comfortable nest on the otherwise hard model stand, and you hate to admit it, but…you fall asleep.

You haven't been sleeping well, and something about being here in this place you love, rather than your cold and lonely apartment fulfills something you've been missing the past few weeks.

By some miracle, as though even your sleeping brain knows, you do not move from your position even in slumber. It takes a gentle hand upon your ankle to rouse you, and you wake with a start to find John standing over you.

The room is empty of students; through the windows you can see that night has fallen outside. Fuck.

“I'm so sorry,” you immediately apologize, bolting up right. The class ends at six. How much longer did you keep him here?

“It’s ok,” he says in his soothing baritone. “Are you…ok, y/n?”

You look at him looking at you so earnestly with those infinite dark eyes–it ties you up in knots, and you feel like you can't hide a thing from him. Like…he already knows, and just wants to give you an outlet to talk about it, if you want.

“Something …bad happened at the Monster Masque,” you admit in a whisper, looking fixedly at the corner of your blanket beneath you. “I've just…felt weird, ever since.”

His frown is like a thunderhead, forbidding and beautiful. “Do you need help, y/n?”

You shake your head. “No. I think…the matter is closed.”

“Oh?”

“I think…someone took care of it for me.”

“Who?”

“I…don't know. Maybe someone I met at the ball. I think…” You look to him, drowning, and you can't help but compare his stare to the black satin shine of your Lone Wolf’s eyes. Dear lord, do you have a type. “I think he saved me.”

John lifts a single dark brow to this. “Sounds like you have a guardian angel, y/n.”

A shaky little laugh escapes you. “Yeah.” You think that guardian demon might be more likely, but you don’t say it aloud.

When you dismount from the modeling stand the concrete floor is shockingly hard and cold beneath your feet; your leg tingles with pins and needles, having fallen asleep. You take a step and would have stumbled–-but John catches you, holding you in his strong arms.

You swear you didn’t do it on purpose, but you find it’s a very nice place to be. There is something hauntingly familiar about being held like this, tucked against his chest with his arms around you. You look up at him from so very close, and you realize something is different.

“You cut off your beard,” you say, maybe with way more wonder in your voice than the observation actually warrants, but there's something about being able to see the sharp lines of his jaw that moves you to your toes.

“I trimmed a little.” He doesn't scold you for staring at him like a star struck idiot. He seems…content, to stand like this with you, while you are reeling in this bottomless freefall into deja-vu.

He has a distractingly beautiful mouth, lips full and infuriatingly kissable. You cannot tear your eyes from the lower half of his face; the sum total of its lines strum some forgotten chord inside you.

Is it possible?

Your memory is so fractured from that night. Nothing is clear amidst the bits and pieces that remain to you. The gaps are large as a canyon in your mind, yawning fissures in the landscape of your memory. Whatever those boys drugged you with…it really fucked you up, and just thinking about it makes you want to hide under John Wick’s chin and not come out for a week.

You decide that you are wishfully projecting your hopes onto this man. That he had much better things to be doing on Halloween, than masquerading around in an animal costume just to flirt with you.

“Have you been eating, y/n?” he asks, squeezing your sides gently. You suppose he remembers how much padding you had from the last time you were in his hands. The memory of that lightning-charged squabble compared to how he handles you now makes you weak all over again.

You shrug, embarrassed for some reason. “Not…well.”

He nods, because he already knew the answer. “Come home for dinner with me.”

“I…would hate to bother you.” Deep down you want to say yes, and yet you cannot shake the dogged mantle of your hesitance.

“No bother. I think it would be good for you.”

He's being polite, yet there is a firm insistence in his tone that leaves no further room for argument.

“Okay.” You manage to keep the tremor out of your voice as you agree, and you decide to give yourself a point for bravery. Your score’s been running in the negatives lately, and maybe this will be good for you.

Or maybe you'll ruin it, the way you ruin everything, eventually.

TBC...

___

->chapter map pinterest board/ photo credits

#john wick #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #keanu reeves #matt x reader #professor wick AU #yandere john wick #keanuverse #keanuverse fic #rivers edge

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urno1luv · 15 hours ago

Note

giselle coming back from practice stressed and taking it out on reader + consensual somno?😋 i luv ur writing🫶🫶

cw: not really somnophilia bc reader wakes up half way through, fingering

The clock reads 2:14 AM when Giselle finally comes home.

She’s quiet — dropping her bag by the door, running a hand through her messy hair.

You’re asleep — soft, warm breaths rising and falling beneath the covers — completely unaware of how bad her day was. Her eyes linger on you for a second.

You always look so pretty when you're sleeping — tucked up all cozy, lips slightly parted, legs curled up under the sheets like you’re waiting for her to come ruin you. Her teeth sink into her bottom lip.

You have no idea how badly she needs you right now.

She moves without thinking — slipping out of her clothes, the room dim and heavy with silence. The mattress dips beneath her weight as she crawls in behind you, warm hands sliding beneath your shirt, tracing slow circles along your bare waist.

You stir faintly — but you don’t wake.

Perfect.

Her fingers trail lower — down between your thighs, where you're soft and warm and already wet without even knowing she's there. She smirks against your neck.

"My pretty little baby... always ready for me, huh?"

You let out the faintest whimper in your sleep, hips twitching under her touch — and that’s when something snaps inside her. All that stress — all that frustration — it’s been building all day, weighing heavy on her chest.

But now you're here — soft and helpless in Giselle's arms — and suddenly the only thing she can think about is taking it all out on you. Her good girl.

Her little stress relief.

Her toy.

Her hand slides into your panties — two fingers slipping between your folds, teasing you slow and lazy. "You have no idea what you're about to wake up to, baby..." she whispers. You whimper softly, shifting in your sleep — but she just smirks, pressing her fingers deeper, feeling how easily you open up for her.

"So fucking wet..."

Her voice is low, rough against your ear — half praise, half punishment. "Such a needy little thing... even when you're sleeping, you're begging for me."

She loves how vulnerable you are like this — how easily she could wreck you without you even knowing.

But she wants you awake for this.

Giselle wants to see your pretty little eyes blink open — wide and confused — right before she ruins you. So she circles your clit just a little faster, fingers pressing deep — until your body jolts beneath her, a soft little gasp falling from your lips.

"There she is..." she purrs.

You blink groggily — hips twitching into her hand — but she doesn't slow down. "Shh, baby... don't fight it."

Her free hand slides up to wrap around your throat — not squeezing, just holding — keeping you exactly where she wants you. "You wanna be a good girl for me, huh?"

You're still half-asleep, mind hazy — but the way you whimper and grind against her fingers tells her everything she needs to know.

Her good girl always wants to please.

Even in your sleep.

"You don't have to do anything, baby... just lay there and take it."

Her fingers fuck into you deeper — slow, deliberate strokes — dragging against that perfect little spot that makes your thighs tremble.

"That's it..." she whispers, voice rough in your ear. "Let me use you."

You moan softly, hips rolling into her hand — but she just tightens her grip around your throat, pinning you down.

"Shh... don't make me gag you, baby."

You bite your lip, trying to keep quiet — but the way she's fucking you, slow and deep and lazy, has you melting in her arms, all soft little whimpers and shaky breaths.

"You like being used, don't you?" she growls, pressing her fingers harder against your clit.

You nod weakly, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. Giselle's broken little plaything.

"You belong to me, baby." Her teeth graze your jaw, breath hot against your ear.

"You're mine."

You come with a muffled little sob — legs shaking, slick coating her fingers — but she doesn't stop. Not yet.

Her fingers keep moving — slower now, teasing — dragging out every last wave of pleasure until you're squirming in her arms, overstimulated and whimpering. "You can give me another one, baby."

Her hand tightens just a little around your throat — not enough to hurt, just enough to own you.

"You don't get to sleep until I'm finished with you."

#urno1luv #aespa x reader #girl group x female reader #aespa smut #girl group smut #kpop scenarios #kpop smut #giselle #giselle x fem reader #giselle aespa #giselle x reader #aespa scenarios #aespa x fem reader #aespa imagines #aeri uchinaga

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semisslave · 18 hours ago

Text

♡ Give me your sound, making your song going loud... ♡

Contents: WLW, Dom!Se-mi x Sub!R, Guitarist!Se-mi x Singer!R, Smut

Warnings: Smut, degradation (kinda), praise, strap sex, fingering

You were part of an independent band called "The Roselights." You were their lead singer. Your band wasn't quite popular but had some fans. Your band aesthetic was quite girly and pinkish, especially you, being the lead singer.

Your band had a "rival" band, which was quite the opposite of yours. "Lost kisses" was an independent rock band that also had a small fan base like yours, and they kept fighting among each other. Both bands always suffered with comparisons between them since they were both indie rock bands but quite different. Lost kisses had a very dark aesthetic, very different from yours.

You couldn't deny that their music was good, but something was better than the music. Their lead guitar, Se-mi, was quite popular outside the band. She had 50k followers on Instagram just because she was gorgeous (something you couldn't deny). You tried to talk to her some times but she and her band mates were very rude and cold, that's one of the reasons why your band and theirs don't get along.

You and your band decided to enter an independent bands competition were the winner had the chance to sign with a big record label, of course you weren't missing this opportunity, but guess who wasn't either...

The competition was held in a concert place where people could watch and vote online for their favorite band at the end of the presentations. There weren't judges, so you had to make your biggest effort to connect with the audience and convince them to vote you.

Your band had to play right after Lost Kisses, which made you more nervous already.

You thought it wasn't fair because Se-mi was more popular than her band, and that would benefit them. Some girls even threw her bra to the stage while Se-mi's band was performing.

When they end, the announcer calls your band out, and you prepare yourself to go, but Se-mi grabs your wrist and whispers to your ear in a low voice...

"Good luck, pretty girl."

How the fuck were you supposed to concentrate after she said that? It was clearly part of her plan, fuck her.

"Now, welcome to... The Roselights"

You stood on stage and gave the best of you, hitting notes you didn't even know you were able to and expressing every lyric perfectly, making the public feel the song with you.

After the presentation, you and your band went to the backstage where there was only one person... Se-mi. The other bands where in the other room waiting for them to be called or already left since the results were going to be announced the next day. You looked at Se-mi confused while your other band mates started grabbing their things to leave.

"That was a great show... You actually surprised me ___" Said Se-mi with a smirk and playing with her lip piercing.

"What do you want?" You asked annoyed, your band mates were already leaving, each one by their own.

"I just wanted to congratulate you... Is that illegal?" She said faking innocence while you sighed

"I know you're not here just for that. You really expect me to believe you suddenly changed and now you're kind?"

"Now that everyone is gone, I can tell you my true intentions... You looked really sexy on stage, you know?"

You blushed at her comment. What was she saying? "Thanks, I guess..."

"You could say the same about me."

"I don't think you need my words, I mean... You had people throwing their underwear at you."

"But I don't care about them... They're not pretty as you." She said taking steps closer to you. Her height towering you as she slid a hand on your waist.

You were speechless, what the fuck was happening? Is this another wet dream you had with her?

Suddenly, she kissed you. You didn't pull away, how could you? You wrapped your arms around her neck while her pierced tongue was exploring your mouth. God, she was experienced.

Se-mi then, hearing the other band finished their performance, pulled you and her bag into a bathroom to continue what you both already started.

She started undressing you slowly while kissing you, taking off your black jacket, then your pink dress, leaving you only in your pink underwear and you black large boots that never took off.

She started caressing your clothed pussy as she felt the wet stain in your panties.

"God, so wet already, and only for kissing? You're such a slut." She said with a smirk in her face, placing you on the counter of the bathroom.

She pulled your panties aside and slides two fingers in your pussy. You moan as you feel them inside of you, the cold rings making you more sensitive.

"Fuck, S-se-mi~" You moaned as you felt her fingers moving inside of you, hitting that sweet spot.

While fingering you, Se-mi grabbed her bag, taking a 8 inch black strap out of it.

Your eyes widened at the sight of it, how was that going to fit?

"You look scared, I'll be gentle, at first..." She says while putting the strap on.

You moaned, almost screamed when you felt it inside of you, stretching you out.

"Oh, Se-mi!~"

You moaned as she pounded into you

"You look so pretty when you're made a mess..." Said Se-mi while she pounded into you harder

"Oh, yes, yes~" You moaned as Se-mi fucked you dumb

"You're taking me so well, keep doing it..."

You moan feeling closer to your release.

"I wish I had a cock and I could feel how tight you are..." Said Se-mi with a smirk on her face.

"I-I'm close~" You gasped as you felt closer to the edge

"That's great, good girl..."

"S-se-mi!~" You screamed her name as you came.

Se-mi keep pounding, making your orgasm last longer as you moaned and gasped desperately.

When she finally pulls out, you, with shaky legs, adjust yourself a bit on the counter while Se-mi takes off her strap, putting it in front of you.

"Lick it clean" She says codly

You, completely fucked dumb, obediently lick the strap

"Such a good slut..."

Se-mi cleaned you up and helped you get dressed, something you didn't expect her to do but she felt really caring at that moment. She helped you to get out and even brought you home. You smiled as you layed on your bed, you forgot everything about the competition, your mind was only thinking about Se-mi right now. Were you developing feelings for a member of the rival band? Your band mates would be so disappointed... Well, fuck them, it's your life. Does she feel the same? If she doesn't, why would she fuck me and take care of me like she did? Your mind was flooded with questions.

You got a message

"Tomorrow, you could say that you've been fucked with a winner" It was Se-mi

You totally forgot about the competition, you couldn't sleep all night thinking about Se-mi and the competition...

Part 2? (This is my first time writing theseee😭💗)

#squidgame #se mi #semi #se mi x reader #smut #wlw #lesbian #se mi x reader smut #squid game #squid game smut #squidgame2 #squid game x reader #squid game 2 x reader #player 380 #player 380 x reader

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jscrawls · 2 days ago

Text

Widows rest

My take on a Black widow! Reader x Batman and Batfam but with a slight twist, reader doesn't know the Bats but they seem to know them...

Warning: contains avengers infinity war spoilers, black widow spoilers, mentions of injury, poor writing, ooc writing,

Part 18: turning point

🔹🔹🔹

The police come to the manor the next morning to question you about the incident, one of them was in the garage looking over the car while another officer sits with you in the foyer with a notepad and pen like this was the forties, how quaint.

Thankfully for your sanity they don't seem to judge you much as you recount the incident in a clinical voice, after just a few moments Bruce joined you on the couch and throws an arm around your shoulder and silently sets his hand on your leg. you nearly rolled you eyes but bit your tongue for the time being.

sure he's no longer a stranger to you, but it pisses you off how he acts like he's concerned and supportive when there's other people around after the way things went last night. you have to wonder if it’s for your sake or his image sake.

He remained pretty much silent, only chiming in to tell the officer he can get camera footage sent to them to show when exactly you and Damian left and returned, the hand resting on your arm tightened near enough to bruise during certain parts of the questioning, his nails dug into your skin when you went into detail about the gun against your head and the threats against the boy. he only relaxed his grip on you when the topic changed to questions about whether you knew the man or not, whether you believed the attack was connected to your concussion, etc.

As soon as the officers leave so do you, you shrug off Bruce as soon as he attempts to speak to you and trot to your room. You don't care how childish it comes off as, you're still pissed and you know you’ll restart things if he pushes you right now.

You hardly speak to anyone for days after that, suddenly you're no longer to be found in the library or going on walks around the property edges, you stay in your room and push yourself to train to the point of incapability and then go down to the kitchens to feed yourself and repeat the cycle, it’s terribly unhealthy and you’re well aware of that, but you’d rather hurt your body while building yourself up into something useful rather than hurt what little rapport you have left with the waynes.

And that's just how things stay, Bruce avoids you after you shrugged him off and Alfred only makes half-hearted attempts to engage with you, finding excuses such as needing to clean your room or insisting on bringing you tea. The kids must know what's going on because they awkwardly avoid you, Duke constantly stumbles over his words when you walk by and leaves the room if you run into him in the kitchen, Cass stares at you silently from corners and nooks, never directly engaging with you. you haven't even seen Tim once in days, it's like he just up and removed himself from the home. Seems the only one not totally pissy is the youngest…

“can we talk?….” his knuckles rap in the door as he let's himself right in, clearly not caring to wait for an answer first.

You sit up from where you'd been doing pushups to frown at the kid, your shirt sticks to your skin from sweat and you're sure you look like a royal mess at the moment. “….i’m a little tired, damian.”

He rolls his eyes at you and drops down on your bed with a loud thump, mossy eyes scrutinizing your form while you cap a water bottle and chug half of it in one go.

“no you’re not, i just….wanted to talk.” his voice loses bravado part way through and he looks away while awkwardly fiddling with the bedding, picking at random strings like they're so very interesting. You sigh as you set the bottle down and wrap your arms around your knees. “….okay, what’s up kiddo.”

For a moment he's quiet, fidgeting in place as he tried to gather himself into his usual snarky form, you look around the room to avoid silently staring the kid down and make him more uncomfortable.

“i wanted to…. apologize….for what happened.” Damian looks uncharacteristically out of his element, that almost sounded painful for him to choke out judging by the wince of his lips like he sucked on a lemon.

With a sigh you roll to your feet and stretch your arms above your head, muscles aching something fierce in protest to your overdoing it. “what happened in the city isn’t your fault, you're not responsible for anyone else's wrong doings, kiddo.”

Damian just loosely crosses his arms over his chest while looking up at you, his expression hard to read. But you'd like to think you've got a decent read on the kid by now, his body language screams unhappiness.

“i forced you to go out, you and father are fighting because i disobeyed his orders.” his tone drops to something more sullen, your gut twists at the way he refers to Bruce's rules as ‘orders’, it doesn't sit right with you, too painfully familiar. Your own childhood ‘orders’ echoes through your mind and you quickly dig your nails into your palm to distract yourself, the pain is grounding, familiar like a family friend.

The mattress squeaks under your weight when you drop down beside him, your hands awkwardly clenching in your lap before you do something insanely out of character like trying to comfort the boy. hopefully he doesn't get grossed out by your sweaty form.

“look, i won’t lie to you or sugarcoat things, we shouldn’t have gone out without telling bruce or alfred, you’re smart enough to see that. but anything between me and bruce is just that, between me and him. things are….difficult right now, a disagreement was bound to happen no matter the cause.”

Your gentle voice doesn't seem to put the kid at ease, he turns towards you with a pouty scowl on his face as he practically bristles like a cat.

“that doesn’t change things, i almost got you killed again.” he gestures at your head while speaking, you're suddenly reminded of the fact that Damian was also there when the concussion happened, how many times has he watched his parent figure narrowly avoid death?

“….damian, you’re not responsible for me. in any way, shape or form. i’m an adult, you’re a child. you’re supposed to do….child things, i don’t know. The point is that anything that happens to me isn't your fault. Neither you or Bruce are my guard dogs.”

Damian swallows audibly and looks away from you, his eyes again downcast as he starts pulling on a loose thread on one of the pillow cases.

His voice is heavy when he speaks again, refusing to meet your gaze as he all but whispers. “….i wish you remembered.”

Something about that makes your intuition prickle, you don't know if it's the heaviness in his voice or the way Damian seems to suddenly look worn, more like a soldier than a child.

You don't like the way it makes your skin crawl, your chest heavy like there's cement behind your ribs. “…remember what?”

Damian looks up and opens his mouth to speak, them slowly closes it.

“….. Never mind…. You…you were really cool, how you beat that guy up….”

You know it's a deflection, and the way he's looking at you you know he knows you know. But you're not gonna push the boy. So instead you just mess up his hair in an annoying way.

“…don’t mention it…”

There's a lot of unspoken words hanging in the air, you know he's holding something back, something that's hurting him, and for a moment you think of spilling your own demons, to tell him you're not who he thinks you are, this isn't a mission after all, you don't have any goals here, you have no reason to keep pretending except your own cowardly desire to sweep your real self under the rug. Pretend you're almost something half good. yet it doesn't come out, maybe one day it'll rot you from the inside out until someone sees the real you gaping from between the cracks. Until then both of your jaws remain stubbornly clenched.

🔹🔹🔹

Nightwing squats on the ledge of the warehouse roof as he peers through the skylight, positioning himself just right so he doesn't cast a shadow into the building. watching the wannabe Mafia punks sort through various stolen goods on top of the wooden crates and old tables.

It's almost funny how clueless they are to being watched, thanks to these people batman's benched and the GCPD is scrambling for more manpower with the increasing attacks, luckily none so bad as the first night but it's clear what they're doing. Establishing presence. Nightwings gloved hands tighten around his eskrima sticks as a few of them laugh loud enough over something to be heard from his position.

“How many we looking at?” A mechanical voice hums from behind, Nightwing doesn't have to look to know red hood's stalking up to him.

“Looks like two, maybe three dozen, could be more coming with how quickly they're cracking boxes open. Like they're expecting more product to sort through.” Nightwing replies quietly, not taking his eyes off the thugs.

He feels a hand briefly land on his shoulder as red hood kneels by him, also trying to avoid casting a shadow in the minimal moonlight peering through the clouds.

“sounds like a party, already tagged the getaway cars?” Wordlessly Nightwing taps his com twice, Oracle chimes in red hoods ear to answer his question.

“tagged and plates all already ran, we'll have a full list of every registration within an hour.” Red Hood hears her loudly sipping on something in his com and snorts in amusement, focusing back on the men inside. “Penguins?”

Nightwing shakes his head, leaning closer to the glass to keep an eye on a man moving out of sight. “someone new, still trying to pin down the head.” Red Hood sharply turns his head to look at him, Nightwing can guess at his expression under the helmet.

“they're operating in penguins usual territory? This'll go to shit quickly once word gets out…” he groans quietly and rubs the back of his neck, he pulls his Glock out and starts checking and rechecking his ammo, pulling his extra mags out and checking those too.

“…so…. We gonna talk about the elephant in the room?” Nightwing murmurs without looking away from the men, though he doesn't miss how red Hood throws his head back and sighs.

“your ass, or the little spat B and operater had?” Oracle's voice crackles in both their ears, Nightwing snorts while red Hood sighs again. “Can you not talk about asses right now, I'd like to keep my appetite thanks.”

Nightwing playfully elbows him, snickering quietly at his reaction. “You're such a child, man. You'll get the talk from Bruce eventually.”

Oracle also giggles in both their ears, taking another obnoxiously loud sip of whatever it is she's drinking. “Someone's gotta break the ice around here.”

“I'm not talking about someone else's marriage issues.” Red Hood huffs, stubbornly checking his weapons one more time before watching the thugs below them again.

“Well too bad, I am. Operater looked ready to put themselves in jail and B nearly burst a blood vessel when he found out, you should see the clips I put together from the parking lot cams.”

“I don't blame them, B’s way over reacting and being a smothering jackass.” Red Hood replies tensely.

“He's not being smothering.” Nightwing rolls his eyes and corrects himself when both Oracle and Red hood scoff loudly. “Okay he's a little smothering, but it's more like….thin blanket smothering than heavy pillow smothering though. He's smothering with love and concern.”

“meat rider.” Red hood mutters under his breath, Nightwing elbows him in offense. “Shut it, how else is he supposed to respond to the near public execution?”

“you and I both know that if someone pointed a gun at the little demon B would do the same thing, it's like he forgets that people outside of costumes can do more than freak out. Plus he's so goddamn weird around them now.” Red hood scowls under his helmet, do they need to have this discussion here?

Oracle clears her throat quietly. “Well…I agree with that sentiment…but…” her voice takes on a hesitant edge, both Nightwing and red Hood glance at each other in confusion.

“…but…?” Nightwing presses on. “…but, I think we can agree that mentally torturing someone in a parking lot is just a bit extreme right?” At both their silence she continues. “you saw the clips from red Robin right? You'd think they'd just leave as soon as the threat was incapacitated, not shove a gun down their throat while literally interrogating them.”

Nightwing hesitantly speaks up, “I mean, obviously yeah. But they recently survived something traumatic, take it from the guy who's been in their shoes, it can fuck up your entire response system.”

“Night, a coma doesn't teach you how to successfully crack my programs and rip them out of hardware by the roots. A coma doesn't make you try to stab people or beat someone half to death. Whatever's going on with them isn't normal and we're trying to figure out where it's coming-” red Hood interrupts Oracle before she can continue. “Hang on, you're telling me you think they're what, a body double? An alien spy? You letting the old man's paranoia get to you now Oracle?” “…I'm just checking all our bases, B and red robins doing it too, It's precautionary.”

Nightwing grabs red hoods shoulder before he can react, putting his finger to his lips before gesturing down below them. “Don't lose focus.” His voice is nearly a hiss, squeezing his shoulder once before letting him go.

“…you're the one who's been going off about B lately, now you're spying on operater for him?” red Hood grumbles as he shifts, moving away from the glass to peer over the edge of the building when he hears the rumble of an engine in the distance.

“Unknown vehicle, quarter mile away. Traffic cam shows an old fire truck heading your way. Now don't call it spying, that makes it sound creepy.” Oracle's voice echoes slightly as they hear her shuffling through the ear pieces, probably adjusting her headset.

“I've got eyes on it, I'll call it what it is Oracle. You're butthurt about the hacking fail so you're going to extremes on them.” Red hood mumbles, ducking down as the truck slowly pulls up to the warehouse.

“As if you're not constantly butthurt about something, weren't you pissy for a week because they didn't pick your movie?”

“like they've ever favored the godfather over Lord of the rings, I know once they watch it they'll obviously see the superior choice.” red hood huffs exasperatedly, clearly still bitter.

nightwing holds a hand up, red hood shuffles back to his side to peer down at the men, he watches them all shuffle towards the entrance just as the firetruck parks in the alley beside the building. “more goons, great.” red hood sighs out sarcastically.

“another eight, looks to be armed. got the deets on the truck oracle?” nightwing hums, starting to do some light stretches as he gets ready.

“you know i’m on it….hmm, stolen from a collector last month. they’ve got somewhere they’re hiding stolen cars?” oracle replies, tapping coming through the mic as she switches between different monitors.

“….so are we gonna ignore red pouting?” nightwing says playfully, he snickers when red hood elbows him roughly and moves away from him to get into position. “shut your whore mouth, dickhead. i’m taking lead.” red hood rolls his eyes under his helmet when he hears two voices snickering at him.

nightwing holds his hands up when he gets a sharp look, trying to wipe the smirk off his face as he rolls his neck and shoulders. “alright, alright. it’s officially dropped…until this is done. take your spotlight red.”

red hood sighs exasperatedly as he stands, after a moment of silence he kicks through the glass and jumps into the building while multiple people yell in surprise.

🔹🔹🔹

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A/n: this is kinda giving filler chapter to me, sorry y'all 😔 the next one is much more interesting tho 👀👀

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