#and of course they make up and learn to be brothers again

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

Apr 27th

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1. hello! im looking for what I think is a canon divergence fic. I think wwx goes to gusu, but im not sure if he has married lwj for political reasons? yet?? the key details I remember: lwj and wwx aren't living together, lwj seems to have left a path unsecured out of cloud recesses for wwx to escape with, and wwx sneaks out regularly to go to the burial mounds, where the wens remain. the first time, lwj thinks that wwx has escaped forever, and is surprised to hear wwx playing chenqing again after 2 weeks or sth. at some pt lwj follows wwx, who notices and confronts him at yiling. thank you for your help! @potatokunst

FOUND! 🔒 Light of Stars (and the Destroyer) by Sanguis (T, 22k, WangXian, Legends, Arranged Marriage, Pining, Pining for your spouse, Adoption, Canon Divergence, Married Couple)

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2. hello! I need to find a fanfic, this is all I remember: Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji, Jiang Wanyin and Jin Zixuan stay behind in the xuanxu cave, they defeat the tortoise and somehow a soulbond is created between the 4 of them. wangxian happens then. I have the impression that if one of them dies they can come back to life with the help of the others and that they can hear each other in their minds. that's about all I remember, I hope this information helps. @laura-101s

FOUND? 🔒 Quartet by WithBroomBefore (T, 69k, WangXian, JC & JZX & LWJ & WWX, Canon Divergence, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, WWX's canonical comfort with the prospect of his own death, Hurt/Comfort, JZX makes friends, Eventual Happy Ending, some unhappiness along the way, Canon-Typical Violence, JC keeps his golden core, JYL Lives, WQ Lives, Minor Character Death, Kissing, WWX Lives, no golden core transfer, JZX Lives, Fix-It, WN Lives, Weeping, temporary major character death, like extremely temporary, they're all fine, Murder Road Trip, Implied Sexual Content, Sunshot Campaign, Nonbinary NHS, Telepathy, platonic group soulbonding, Family, Found Family, POV WWX, Podfic Available, Siblings, Sworn Brothers, aroace JZX, all the Wen remnants live, POV JZX, JGY is less murdery, Asexual Character, Aromantic Character, JZX's social awkwardness, Poison, Everyone/Therapy)

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3. Hi! I read this fic this year, but now I can't find it. It is the YLLZ era, Wei Ying saves the Wen Remmants, and they go to Gusu, so he spends a lot of time there. But the important is JGS and JGY accused him of rape and got a lot of women pregnant; of course, is not real, but people believe he is guilty. So he is planning to lie and tell everyone he is a cut-sleeve and is looking for someone who helps him pretend. He asks Wen Ning, but Lan Zhan is there, and he accepts to be the "false" partner. WQ tell him if he wants the people to believe him, he must be the one who "receives" Then Wangxian travel together to Jilintai, and Wei Ying must learn about sex because he does not have any idea about real sex, "cut sleeve" sex and relationships. Thanks, and sorry for my English.

FOUND? THE DEMON OF YUNMENG by nevertheless_turtle (E, 54k, WangXian, JYL/JZX, Rape/Non-Con, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Frottage, Golden Core Reveal, JC & WWX Reconciliation, Jealous LWJ, Canon Divergence, For Want of a Nail, The Yin Tiger Seal, things get derailed before we get to YLLZ era so no YLLZ title sorry, but in essense the LWJ Has a YLLZ Kink is still there, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Rape/Non-con Elements, LWJ and WWX Have a Non-Con/Rape Kink, so that's a bit messier within the context of the story but eh they're messy people, Clothed Sex, Canon-Typical Behavior, Crack Treated Seriously, Bad BDSM Etiquette, actually its probably better bdsm etiquette than canon, does using resentful energy count as a safe word, JYL and JZX Live, Fix-It, this is a sex comedy ok, the fucked up elements are within canon levels of fucked up and then its a sex comedy, the noncon isn't explicit or between main characters but is a main story element for a while, Subdrop)

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4. Hi! You are all heros just so you know. Also I of course came here for selfish reasons too. I read a fic awhile ago. Actually there were 2 similar. One was finished and the one I'm looking for wasn't.

All the past and present cultivators get sucked into a cave during a conference and watch a movie of sorts of WWX tragic misunderstood life. And a lot of people get the punishments they deserve.

Anyways thanks you in advance 😘

@justastraymoa

FOUND? The Characters of MDZS Watching the Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation by emma_screams (M, 166k, WIP, WangXian, Humor, Fluff, Angst, Drama) sounds a little like The Characters of MDZS Watching the Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation in that it's a WIP, everyone's trapped in a cave in the Burial Mounds, and the people are shown a "movie" about what really happened with Wei Ying.

FOUND? Song of Joy and Regrets by HelloKitten (Not Rated, 134k, WIP, WangXian, Angst, Self-Harm, Child Abuse, Time Travel Fix-it)

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5. Hello! I tried asking for help in reddit for this and 1 month gone by and still nothing so I thought why not try my luck here.

It's probably a sect leader wwx fic. I remember that he invented a lot of things, like lamps for the sidewalks, heating also for the sidewalks (it was for the winter I think) and cctv! The most notable memories I have is that he has the Xuanwu as his pet and the wens were causing scenes in Yiling so he released the footage that the wens are doing that and said they committed a crime (disturbance of the public?) and because of that the wens has to pay money for it. Wwx had never been in the jiangs. And I remember how the cultivation world thinks that yiling is the true "nightless city" because it has never been dark there (because of the sidewalk lamps, etc.)

This is so badly explained and idek if this is one or more than one fic combined. Thanks for helping!

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6. Hi friends!

I'm searching for a fic that I'm afraid might have been deleted. If I'm recalling correctly it was one of the older mdzs fics and had a lot of kudos, but I'm not seeing it anywhere. If anyone has a download or at least a name, I'd really appreciate it

It was an angsty post cannon fic where wwx is cursed, and the curse affects people who feel strong emotions towards him. I don't recall exactly what the curse does (makes him invisible maybe? Makes other people invisible?) but I know it breaks wwx's heart when the curse affects the juniors because he assumes "strong emotions" means "hate".

That's the key part of the fic. Wwx is heart broken bc he loves the juniors and thought they at least Liked him, but he just quietly accepts that he was wrong and they still see him as the horrible yllz and he tries very hard not to show how hurt he is. (He is in fact wrong. The juniors love him. But it takes him a while to believe that)

Thank you for the help! Have a good day! @feels-of-an-asexual-anemone

FOUND! See Me, Feel Me (Listening to You) by Ghost_Honey (T, 29k, WangXian, POV WWX, WWX Needs a Hug, WWX’s Abyssmal Self-Esteem, Emotional Healing, Angst, The Juniors love their Senior Wei, Curses, WWX is an Unreliable Narrator, JC & WWX Reconciliation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Cuddling)

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7. Hi,

I was looking for a wangxian fic that I can't find. I remember that wei wuxian had like a really reveling armor that he couldn't take off and that one day it broke and lan wangji came with him to get it fixed. It may be a little like a spoiler but lan zhan cut the neck of the blacksmith that made the armor so wei ying could be free because the armor was a punishment that madam yu gave him when he was a teenager.

I have been looking for that fic, but o can't remember the title. If someone could help, I would be really grateful.

FOUND? 🔒 His Knight in Shining Armour by celerydragon (E, 23k, WangXian, dead dove do not eat, Curses, Sexual Abuse, Child Abuse, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Slut Shaming, Top LWJ/Bottom WWX, yu furen sucks, protective lwj, Hurt/Comfort, Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, mild dirty talk, Biting, Outdoor Sex)

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8. Hello!

Im looking for a specific fic where LWJ gets badly hurt during the fight at nevernight and WWX thinks he died, but actually LXC and NMJ had taken him away where he was in a coma for a while.

Then sometime later WWX comes to find that LWJ didnt die and reunites with him at Qinghe.

I know this is really vague but it was a really good fic 😭🙏

Thank you!

FOUND? If I Could Go Back in Time by Runningbarefoot (M, 122k, WangXian, NieLan, Canon Divergence, Role Reversal, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, Grief/Mourning, YL WWX, Eventual Happy Ending, The Twin Jade Brotherhood, Hurt/Comfort, Character Study, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Dynamics, Slow Burn)

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9. Hello everyone 😊 I believe last year or 2023 i read a fanfic in which Wei Ying was possessed by Mo Xuanyu, who tried to hurt Jin Guangyao as revenge for something that i don't remember. I want to read it again, but i don't remember the title and can't find. If it helps at all, I'm sure the story is already finished. I'm not sure if it's happens in a modern au or not, sorry:[

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10. Also, i want to find another ffs: It's where wwx still in cloud recesses but he got pregnant and madam yu brought him to meishan so he could gave birth there and his first kid was a girl ig, it's a child out of wedlock w/lwj and I think even in yk war they still have another kid. I think one moment is that one of the child prob the oldest is called a demon by the lans bc she/he has red eyes and wwx is dead at the time.

FOUND? 🧡 Like Rabbits by Setari (T, 41k, WangXian, Kid Fic, Canon Rewrite, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Mpreg, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Transphobia, Family Feels, POV Multiple, Next Generation Original Characters, Subverted Blame the Bastard Trope, Miscarriage Scare, Horny Teenagers, Hopeful Ending, Crack Treated Seriously, Oblivious WWX, Pining LWJ)

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11. Excuse me, but could you help me find/rediscover a fanfic where it's either Lan Wangji or Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian who travel back in time after their deaths. Lan Wangji goes back after he dies being stabbed in the back by Jiang Cheng to kill Wen Yuan. Could you please help me find it? @kaitou-cure-prism12

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12. hiii thank u so much for this blog. I was wondering if u could help me find a fix where wangxian were children. It was a modern au, and both lan zhan parents and uncle jiang and madam yu thought the other child was an imaginary friend until they bump into each other at a beach. Thank u so much!! @anagenderfuckup

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13. Hi Mods!

Really appreciate your work! I’m trying to find a fic that’s a lot like You’ll Always Know Me by anaphoricae, but angstier, in which Wei Ying ( now famous ?)comes back to his small town in order to reconnect with Lan Zhan ( a teacher ?) but LZ will not speak to him at first. I recall an early scene where LZ is basically hiding in his house or it might be MianMian’s, not wanting to engage with him. I think that MM intervenes. I’ve scoured my bookmarks and fear it may be deleted. @liluja3

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14. Hello!! Thank you for your hard work!! I'm looking for this specific fic where it mostly canon but LWJ has white hairs bc loosing his beloved (WY) provoked and emotional qi deviation and his hair turned white. I think that maybe they get together sooner and it was a complete fic. That the only thing I remember.

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15. Hi. Thank you for all your hard work finding these fics. I've found so much great WangXian fic thanks to your blogs. I would like to ask if you could help me find a fic, please? I don't remember much, but it was an AU and the scene I remember specifically is LWJ is in the library and WWX comes in really annoyed. There's a Lan elder in the library as well. WWX says he hates that JZN bad mouths JYL so much because it damages her reputation and, because JZN is higher ranked than her everybody just believes him and nobody cares to see any further than that and that it wouldn't be hard for JZN to just be polite, even if he doesn't want to marry her. He says LWJ doesn't want to marry him, WWX, either, but he's not rude and disrespectful the way JZN is to JYL. Then WWX goes on about how stuck up the Jin are and how they only have the butterfly message to back that up and he's going to make something better to stick it them - which even the Lan elder quietly laughs at, because the Jin go around thinking they're all that, but most of the other clans can't stand them, including the Lan. I think the elder was there to chaperone Wangxian in the library, which made me think it was an arranged marriage fic, but I searched your comp list and couldn't find it, so maybe it's not tagged for that? Or possibly I just missed it. @immoralq

FOUND? 🔒 Hold Me Like Holy Water by trulywicked (M, 15k, WangXian, WIP, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Arranged Marriage, Merperson LWJ, Courtship, Cloud Recesses Study Arc The Lan Clan Loves Their Second Jade, Moderate burn, Good Sibling JC)

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16. for the fic finder, all i remember is that either the wens and wwx were rescued from the burial mounds, or jyl went to visit, and when she saw wwx interravt with a-yuan, she was saying smth like “i didn’t know you had a son”

i hope somebody knows which fic this is, thank you!!

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17. Hellooo! I want to find a fic that I just recently remembered. It is an mdzs oc/reader fic and the oc/reader is male. The fanfic was set in modern times. The oc/reader was paired with Lan Qiren actually and the oc/reader was shameless towards Lan Qiren, really shameless and it was actually quite funny to read. I think it also has some omegaverse???? Lan Qiren was an omega and the oc/reader was an alpha— alsoo there was at one point it mentioned that Lan Qiren and Wen Rouhan were exes and the oc/reader for jealous. It was a happy ending though. @yurinaba3

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18. Hi!! This is for fic a wangxian fic finder

Theyre married and its a modern setting i think it was jiang yanlis marriage? So wwx goes there to help with the preperations and madam yu is rude to him and stuff and he cant go back home because she keeps emotionally black mailing him and Lwz gets mad that wwx wont come home so he goes there himself and stands up to yu furen

Thank you so much!!

FOUND?🔒tipping point by cherrywhiskey (M, 13k, WangXian, Established Relationship, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Married Couple, Married Life, Bickering, Idiots in Love, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Fights, Arguing, Making Up, Kissing, Angry Kissing, Making Out, Modern, POV Alternating, Fighting, love and loyalty through petty fights, it gets intense before it gets better, but only coz they're SO IN LOVE, WangXian fighting, no seriously, this is just a fic where husbands wangxian have a fight, like typical married couples, then they make up and make out, lots of banter)

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19. Hiya I’m looking for a fic where after the sunshot campaign (maybe the yunmeng sibs sends has) wei wuxian going to the other great sects to prove he isn’t a threat and the fic i remember being suite short on chapters but is completed. the last sect he goes to is the jin, that’s all i remember and i’ve spent the last 2 hours looking for it ^^; @yeetusbejeetus

FOUND? Field Trips with Wei Wuxian by antebunny (G, 42k, WangXian, WQ & WWX, NMJ & WWX, JZX & WWX, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Found Family, Angst with a Happy Ending, Misunderstandings, Miscommunication, protective Jiang siblings, Unreliable Narrator, due to WWX assuming ppl hate him, JYL is gonna dropkick her baby bro into having friends)

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20. Hello,

I am trying to find either one or two fics. I think they are two seperate fics, but its been so long since I read them, I am not sure anymore. A) One, Wei Ying comes back to life only to find out that Lan Zhan died due to his whipping. He decides to destroy Gusu in his rage.

B) The second one is that the demons destroyed the Cultivation world after Wei Ying died because he was the only person from a blood line that kept them in check. Once he died, the demons were able to get out and they destroyed the Cultivation World.

Again, I believe they are two separate works. But not sure. Actually, any fic where Wei Ying goes ahead and destroys the Cultivation world would be fine as well. Either with Lan Zhan dead or alive. Sometimes I just want to see the morons destroyed. lol. Guilty pleasure. @marietsy40-blog

20A)

FOUND? beautiful scars (being rewritten) by woolyseok (G, 2k, WangXian, WIP, Major Character Death, Angst, What-If, Minor Character Death, Promises, Broken Promises, YLLZ WWX, POV WWX, Major Character Injury, Hurt No Comfort, POV LWJ, Unreliable Narrator WWX)

20B)

FOUND? 🔒 Ancient Smiling Memories Of Blood and Evil by Preludian_Staves (T, 2k, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Canon Divergence, Demons, Bad End for the Cultivation World, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death)

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[ryemiffie]

Stanley won the Tumblr sexyman contest? Alright, y'all know what this calls for, Stan angst! (Tw: sad animal content ahead)

Okay okay, so basically when Stan and Ford were kids, Stan found a little bird egg that had fallen from a tree , so of course him and Ford spend hours trying to get it back to the nest but in the end they ultimately fail to return it. Ford said it was probably a lost cause and to just leave it but Stan was resolute, he didn't want to give up on the little guy within, so he decided to take the egg home with him and try to keep it alive.

Him and Ford manage to sneak the egg in without their parents noticing, and Ford helps Stan get books from the library (Stan is banned from all near libraries) to learn how to care for the egg. Stan spends all of his time caring for the little egg and trying to keep it a secret from his parents so that they don't take it away, he even made up all sorts of excuses to skip school so that he could stay home with the egg.

Eventually the egg does manage to hatch and a gross little creature emerges, a tiny baby bird. Stan is the most excited little kid as he hears the egg start to crack, watching with wide eyes as the shell falls apart, his hands gripping the side of his dresser as he peers over into the box, completely silent as the little bird starts trying to chirp.

He's amazed, his heart melts as he finally sees the creature he spent so long caring for, the little baby he helped bring into the world. His melted heart is replaced by pride, he was successful! He actually did it! He couldn't wait to show Ford when he got back from school!

Stan's usually ungraceful hands made careful, almost calculated, movements to grab the box, slipping it off the dresser and setting it down in his lap as he rests upon the floor. His eyes are filled with stars as he picks up the baby bird, delicately craddling the smallest creature he'd ever seen. He decided he'd name it Shark because of it's bluish grey colour.

Stan spends hours just watching the little bird, trying his best to entertain it and teach it things.

Just as he's reading one of his favourite comics to the little bird, his dad barges into the room, his eyes quickly falling on the little bird that Stan holds. He demands to know where Stan got the disgusting little varmint, saying Stan needs to get rid of it.

Stan rushes to try and explain but it's to no avail, his father refuses to let him keep Shark, so Stan asks if his father will help him return Shark to the nest it had fallen from. His father says no, he tells Stan that once a human has touched a bird the other birds will never take it back, that Stan's little pet would be left to die in the wild, he calls Stan stupid for ever thinking that would work and instructs Stan to take the bird outside and dispose of it. Stan begs his father not to make him, he begs and cries and tries to shield the little bird in his hands from the outside world, but his father insists, Shark has to go.

His father drags him outside and hands him a stone, then tells him to be a man and finish what he'd started.

Stan would never forget that day, after that moment he decided he'd never care for something the same way again, he decided caring for something that much wasn't worth the effort, it would only ever break his heart. At least he still had Ford, at least once his brother was home he'd have arms to cry in.

[coniferouspines]

Stanley Pines is dying.

A good samaritan on the street found his unconscious body and decided to call an ambulance for him. Stan doesn’t remember everything that happened. He just knows that a few days and a multitude of tests later, he was unceremoniously diagnosed with a terminal illness in a random hospital in the middle of Oklahoma. Emphasis on terminal. The doctors tell him that without treatment, he has maybe two weeks to live.

Stan can’t afford treatment, nor the hospital bill he’s sure to be slapped with from his current stay. He sneaks out during the night shift and disappears. It’s one more debt added to the list but it’s not like it’s going to matter once he’s dead anyway. He finds the last place he left his car and spends the rest of the night awake in the backseat, wondering what he should do.

In the end, the conclusion is obvious: he wants to see his family. To say his final goodbyes to them in person. However, this brings a new dilemma. Stan’s family are all in different places. His parents in New Jersey, Shermie in California, and Stanford in Oregon. Stan, currently in Oklahoma, is stuck in the middle and with a decision to make.

He can’t visit them all. As much as he’d like to, Stan has neither the money, the gas, or the time to do so. He’d probably die before he could see all of them. He only has enough energy and resources to make it to one of them; he’ll have to be content with phone calls to the others to say his goodbyes.

When the morning comes, Stan gets into the driver’s seat and starts the engine of the car. He sits there for a moment, just breathing deeply. He has to pick a family member to see in person before he dies, and he doesn’t have a lot time, so he has to choose quickly.

It was never really a question.

He chooses Ford.

AKA a terminally ill Stanley makes his way up to Gravity Falls, Oregon to reunite with his brother. He wants to say his goodbyes and apologies in person before he dies. He’s not happy about dying, but he doesn’t think he has much to live for anyway, so he accepts it. He just wants to make things right between himself and Ford before it happens so he can go without regrets.

Stanford is not expecting his estranged twin to randomly show up looking like he’s literally on death’s door. Nor is he approving of Stanley’s plan to seemingly just lay down and die. Good thing Stan came to him. Now he’s given Ford a chance to do something about it.

All current research and projects get shoved aside as Ford focuses everything he has on a new, single task: take care of Stanley and save his life.

(Amazing addition by tinfoil-jones here)

[blackswallowtailbutterfly]

Still haven't messaged my mom back. And I don't think I'm going to.

[shadowykittengladiator]

Damian looks at the green letter that simply appeared in his room a few minutes ago. He wasn't sure if he is supposed to be happy or crying.

He still thinks about Danyal all the time. It has been a long time since his brother died. Damian still mournes him two times a year, at their birthday and the day Danyal died.

He told his family, on his fifteenth birthday. Father hadnt been happy but he tearfully hugged Damian the next day and apologized for ever making him feel like he couldn't talk about his brother.

He still thinks of his brother every time he goes to the Watchtower. Father thankfully gives him a minute. Sometimes he joins him too.

But he wasn't expecting this. He looks at the green letter again. He already read it. A bit idiotic, touching an unknown like that. But the code on the side of the letter almost caused him a struck, because it was the code. The code that him Danyal came up with and nobody else knows about.

Dear Damian Wayne

The note reads.

You are invited to the coronation of the Prince of the Infinite Realms, Danyal 'Danny' Phantom, formerly Al-Ghul. The coronation is set to take place two weeks from now. As a part of the Royal Family, you are obligated to join the coronation at your brother's side. You are to wear formal clothes of whichever culture you subscribe to. A knight will take you to place at which coronation is set to take place.

The letter continues on and on about the coronation, about his brothers numerous titles, about proper ettique and many more things. But Damian does not care about that.

What was the possibility of this thing being fake? Maybe, but he doesn't think so. The code alone would confirm its authenticity.

A knock sound from the door and his father enters the room with a familiar copy of the green letter in his hands.

---------------------------------------------------

Constantine has been looking at the letter for the past ten minutes and he looks more like he is about to faint with each line he reads. Finally Damian can't hold it anymore.

"Say something magician! Is that thing real? What is the Infinite Realms!? "

Constantine looks up from the letter and takes out a cigarette to smoke, only to put it down at his father's glare.

"Of course you people would get tangled in the business of the bloody Infinite Realms." Constantine stops for a second. "Basically it's the dimension between dimensions. Thing of it like the glue holding the multiverse together. It's also where ghosts live."

Oh.

Of course.

Damian is an idiot for thinking his brother might be alive. Danyal is dead.

He hears his father turn around and sitting down on the bat computer.

"Ghost?" Richard thankfully asks. "Like Deadman?"

"No."

As Constantine starts a lecture about the difference between magical and ectoplasmic ghosts, Damian's mind wanders towards his brother again.

His brother is still dead, he still died. And of course his brother, his wonderful, idiotic, amazing brother would somehow make himself a king of an entire dimension after death. One of the strongest beings in existence, according to Constantine.

"Damian!" Richard is snapping his fingers in front of his face. "Are you alright? "

"I am fine." Damian says, "I am fine." He repeats a second later.

"It would be a shock if I learned my brother is going to be a king." Constantine is staring him weirdly. "How in the bloody hell that happened? I never knew bats had another kid."

"Doesn't matter." Damian snarks, "Is it safe to assume this coronation will take place in this Infinite Realms? "

Constantine shrughs his shoulders.

"Wouldn't know. Not exactly my area of expertise."

Great, just great.

[interestingturnofthetables]

I’m about to go off about this in the tags. I didn’t know there was a tag limit until it got out of hand. Very intriguing idea dude!

Stan Pines once fantasized about traveling the world on boat with his brother.

But ever since that brother died to a rogue wave while the two were swimming at the beach, he's had a fear of the ocean and never intends to set foot on a boat.

Fiddleford McGucket is pursuing his hobby of making personal computers, after having a normal college life, getting married, and having a kid. He has it good.

The town of Gravity Falls lives cult-free, and get to keep their memories of all the mysterious happenings. Bill Cipher was never summoned.

Stan is on the run from the law and people he's crossed with his scams. One night, he hears a strange noise from his closet. He grabs a baseball bat and opens it, and it's almost like looking in a mirror. Almost, because the person staring back has glasses, a cleft chin, and looks like he's been through hell, among other universes.

The mysterious man says, "Stanley?"

"How the hell do you know my name?" Stan raises the bat, ready to beat up this uncanny stranger who magically appeared in his closet.

Then he spots his hands.

Six fingers.

"I must be high out of my mind..."

(Or: AU where Ford died as a kid and then at some point in the portal he encounters a universe where he doesn't have to worry about meeting his alternate self. As long as he can convince his brother he's real.)

[foreverdolly]

ೃ࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part I 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』

summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.

warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking. (needs to be edited, so please excuse any temporary errors!)

word count: 5.3k

← previous chapter | next chapter →

The ancient walls of Castle Caladan were a fortress, the long winding halls a labyrinth to those unfamiliar with its layout. You had tried feigning sleep when you had been made aware of the surprise guest’s arrival, a one “reverend mother”- as your mother referred to her. The cool air from the hallway nipped at your exposed arm, which currently hung limply over the side of the bed. 

“She’s even smaller than your son, Jessica.” The voice sounded more like a wheeze- and it certainly didn’t belong to anyone you had ever met before. 

“As I’ve already said, the Atreides are slow to grow.” Your mother’s tone didn’t hold even a semblance of a bite to it, not like you expected. She was usually fiercely protective of you and your brother. 

Your finger twitched, causing the woman to stifle whatever disapproving comment she was about to make. Being caught eavesdropping like this certainly wasn’t ideal, but you found it impossible not to be curious. 

“She really is just like her brother,” More like he was more like you. You’d always been the rowdy one of the two. Paul must have been listening in as well, and you imagined that he was more insulted at the comments of his lack of height and muscle than you were. “The little rascals.” 

There was a beat of silence before the woman began to crone again. This time you opened your eyes just a sliver, staring into the dark abyss of your room so that you could make out the shapes of your mother and the stranger. 

“Rest now. Both you and your brother need to be prepared to meet my Gom Jabbar.” The reason couldn’t be pinpointed, but there was something about her tone that filled you with dread.

Your mother woke you up the next morning, bright and early. 

Not even the breathing exercises that your mother had taught you had been able to calm you down last night. The darkness had swallowed you whole, which resulted in a dreamless sleep that left you feeling just as unrested as you had felt the night before. Your mother noticed your hesitations, the skirts of her dress dragging against the stone floor as she moved in the direction of your closet. The dress that she picked out for you was one of your more official garments, the red hawk of the Atreides crest proudly sewn onto the right breast. 

“Did you sleep well?” She questioned as she laid the dress neatly onto the edge of the bed, urging you to stand once her hands were free. 

You blinked at her, nervously brushing your hands along the soft cotton of your nightdress. Your voice felt stuck in your throat, but you still managed to lie. 

“Yes, of course.” Your tone was flat, and for once she didn’t question you on the reasoning. She knew exactly what had you feeling so uncomfortable in your own home. 

Gom Jabbar. Gom Jabbar. Gom Jabbar. 

What exactly did the old woman want from your family? Lady Jessica was a Bene Gesserit, which could only mean that this woman was a higher up, sent to pay you and your brother a visit. You knew nothing about any “coming of age” rituals. 

Paul barged into the room, dressed in his finer clothes as well. He leaned against the wall of your room, lips pursed as if he was deep in thought. You tilted your head to the side, leveling him a worried glance. He simply shook his head, and you knew at once that he wasn’t trying to dismiss your worries. 

‘Not here. Later.’ His expression told you, and for once you obeyed. 

“The reverend mother is waiting on the both of you. Paul, get out of your sister’s room so she can get ready.” She commanded, her tone leaving no room for whining or disobedience. 

He groaned, pushing himself off of the wall so that he could head back out and into the hall. You shrugged out of your dress quickly at the hurried insistence of your mother, allowing her to do up the clasps of the dress for you. 

“Who is she?” You asked simply, brushing your hair to the side so that she could get a better grasp of the dress. 

“She was my teacher at the Bene Gesserit school and now she is the Emperor’s Truthsayer.” Your mother sighed out your name, turning you quickly so that you were facing her. “You need to do exactly as she says. There is no room to be prideful today, do you understand?” Her eyes were pleading, and you knew that she had your best interests in mind. 

You and your mother walked wordlessly out into the hall, catching up with your brother who was busy running his fingers along the uneven stone walls. You flashed a quick look at your mother before jogging to catch up with Paul, taking the hem of his sleeve into your hand. 

“What do you know?” You whispered, turning your head so that you could look at your mother. Much to your surprise she seemed to be in no hurry to separate the two of you. 

“I’ve had dreams about her before,” He whispered, and you had to pick up your pace to keep up with his strides. “And mother told me this morning that I have to tell her about my visions.” 

Your mouth went a bit dry at the realization that this woman truly was here just for you and your brother. What is the Gom Jabbar and what did it entail? There was no telling. 

“She’s in my morning room, you two.” She called out after you. 

Jessica caught up, leveling the both of you a disapproving motherly look that had the two of you slowing your strides to match hers. She seemed a bit hesitant, eyes flickering between you and your brother and the closed door. 

The “reverend mother” sat in one of the tapestried chairs, her arms perched on either side of the armrests as she watched the three of you come in. The view behind her was beautiful, the sprawling, green farmlands of the Atreides family holding on full display through the large windows behind her. You glanced at your brother, eyes widening when you realized that he was already looking at you. He bowed in her direction and you followed his lead. 

“They are a cautious bundle, aren’t they?” The witch-like woman croaked, looking between the two of you. 

“As they have been taught, your reverence.” 

In this room, here in front of this woman, Jessica was no longer the Duke’s concubine nor your mother. She was reduced to that of a pupil in the face of her teacher. You kept yourself from fidgeting, clasping your hands in front of you. You fought the urge to reach out and grab your brother’s hand, as the two of you so often did when faced with anxiety as children. Fear hadn’t regressed you to that of a blubbering child in years. 

Your mother also seemed to fear the woman before her. There was something in her tone that led you to believe that whatever she was here for, it surely wasn’t a pleasantry. Your brother was tense at your mother’s other side, jaw tense as he stared the reverend mother down. 

“Teaching is one thing, but there are some things that cannot simply be taught,” Paul’s eyebrows furrowed as she spoke, and as if she was dismissing a servant of the castle, she waved your mother off with a flick of her wrist. “You and your daughter leave us. It will be her turn soon.” 

For the first time that morning your mother hesitated, eyes softened as she looked upon her son.

“Your reverence, I-” She began, but was cut off before she could finish whatever it is she was going to say. Surely it was meant to be an objection. 

“Jessica, you know that this must be done.” Her voice held a tone of finality. There was no room for your mother to try and wiggle the both of you two out of this trap.

“Yes. . . of course.” Your mother straightened, turning towards both of you. 

“This test. . . It’s very important to me, you two.” She spoke in a hushed voice, eyes still fearful. 

“Test?” The two of you questioned at the same time, looking at one another in concern. You were confused, even more so than you were before. 

“Remember that you’re the duke’s son.” And with that your mother was grabbing your arm, pulling you in the direction of the door. 

“I suppose that it is my turn?” Your voice shook with anger as you practically tore the door off of its hinges, anxious to take your brother’s place. His cries and whimpers did not go unheard, even with the thick wood separating the two of you. 

Looking at him now, his right arm still shaking from the pain, was like being slapped across the face. 

“Right you are, girl. Jessica, please escort your son out of the room.” There was a silvery glint in her bright eyes- a challenge. She could sense it in you. 

Your mother didn’t interrupt this time, and without any words exchanged the door closed. Your brother was too shaken up by whatever had taken place in that room to fully comprehend that the same thing was going to happen to you. He tossed a terrified glance over his shoulder at you just before the heavy doors closed. The sound of it echoed around the room, pulsing in your chest as you tried to steady the adrenaline pumping through your veins. 

“Your future. . . do you know what is expected of you?” 

You eyed the black box that sat next to her as you began closing the distance between the two of you. The question she had asked. . . it was a touchy subject with you. Of course you knew. A day didn’t go by that you weren’t mortified by the prospect of your future. You only had three short years to live and enjoy before you would be forced to abandon your family to join hands with another one. 

“Of course I do. It is my duty to marry.” Your voice had a bite to it, your eyes unwavering as you stared her veiled face down. 

“It is your duty to marry a Harkonnen. It is an honor to be the only reason that these two great Houses are allies. Your heirs will be powerful beyond comprehension.” The way she spoke. . . she truly believed the shit she was spouting. 

It was impossible to consider marrying Feyd an honor. It was an ever-present looming threat. 

“Put your right hand in the box.” She commanded, nodding her head in it’s direction. 

It seemed harmless enough, nothing more than a metal box. You bent your head ever-so-slightly, trying to have a look inside. It appeared to be a pitch black, endless void. No beginning or end in sight. 

You did as you were told, biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from muttering anything too disrespectful under your breath. If Paul’s screams were anything to go off of then this was going to be painful. Still, you were shocked by how cold the box was. You wiggled your fingers a few times, feeling the metal encasing them. Slowly a tingling sensation began, almost as if they were falling asleep. 

“You’ve heard of animals chewing off a leg to escape a trap? There’s an animal kind of trick. A human would remain in the trap, endure the pain, feigning death that he might kill the trapper and remove a threat to his kind.” 

The tingling sensation somehow melded into. . . heat. No, not heat. Burning. It felt as though you had your hand held up to a bright flame. You flinched, but froze when you finally noticed that the reverend mother was holding something against your neck. Your eyes flickered the best that they could to her hand, not wanting to turn your head. 

“What I hold at your neck is the Gom Jabbar. The tip of the needle is dipped in poison. Remove your hand from the box and I will plunge it into your neck.” 

The palm of your free hand began to sweat, the gravity of the situation finally landing on your shoulders. You would be forced to endure the pain and there was nothing that anyone outside of the doors could do. No guards had come to protect your brother when it was his turn, and no matter how emotional your mother had gotten whilst hearing his screams she still hadn’t rushed in after him. You could truly die here in this room. 

“Why are you doing this?” You urged, wincing again as the burning continued to worsen. 

Now it felt as though you were almost touching a flame, fingers dancing dangerously close. It wasn’t just uncomfortable now but painful.  “To determine if you’re human. Now be silent.”

Meant for greatness, yet stifled before her prime. 

It was impossible for your clipped wings to take flight. The Bene Gesserit had instilled in you your purpose from a very young age, letting it be known that you were little more than cattle to be sold off to breed. The whole arrangement was dehumanizing, but this was the way of galactic high society. Every House had been developed by the close, watchful eye of the Bene Gesserit. Your mere existence was a result of a centuries long breeding program, so how could you ever expect for your own life to be any different? 

Every child, especially in their naive youth, dreams of greatness. There was a point in time where you had hoped to mean something. There were differences to be made, rules to be broken, wars to be raged- but you would never be at the helm of any of it. But Paul. . . Paul was different. 

“You know something that I don’t.” You weren’t asking Paul, rather telling him what you already knew. 

Where you were used to your brother pulling no punches, he had been overly cautious with his treatment of you during training today. For a second he just stared ahead blankly at the wall, and you wondered whether he would try to lie. The older you’ve gotten, the stranger other people’s treatment of you has become. Women were little more than something to be owned. It was a hard lesson to learn and was one you were still grappling with. 

Your femininity were the chains that bound you. And what of your ambition? It was currently acting as the flames licking at your boot heels. Soon you feared that it would fully engulf you; become your undoing. 

“Tell me.” Your lovely features crumpled, and as childish as it was you found yourself giving his arm a slap. 

He jumped at the sudden contact, eyes widening as he turned to face you after what felt like an eternity of prolonged silence between the two of you. The hard flooring felt cool beneath your legs as you stretched them out beneath you, and for a second you found it hard to keep yourself up in a sitting position. The world felt unsteady beneath you, both literally and figuratively. 

Paul didn’t have to say anything at all. You looked, you saw, you felt, you understood. Your shared connection had nothing to do with your genes, rather it had to do with your likeness. Two bodies, two minds, but one soul. Your twin’s features crumpled, mirroring that of your own as he pushed a few strands of dark hair away from his face. 

“So there is nothing I can do? My fate is sealed.” Your lips felt numb as you spoke. 

Your brother’s visions were more frequent than they had ever been before. “Horrors”, he’d described them.

“If there was something I could do. . .” He started, turning quickly to face you, tucking one leg beneath himself. “My hands are tied. Mother and father’s hands are as well.” 

Hiding you away or knowingly allowing you to escape your duties would be seen as an act of treason. You’d be putting your parents and their status in danger, and no matter how desperate you were to get out of any sort of marriage pact, it was far too late. Since the very moment you were conceived, this was what you were meant for. 

“When will the orders come down, you think?” You pulled your legs up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them tightly. 

You wished that you could stay like this forever, protected from the rest of the world. If only you hadn’t been born as twins at all. You wanted so badly to be like Paul. 

But the galaxy didn’t work like that. You were not fortunate enough to get what you wanted. 

“Soon.” 

You felt comforted by the hand that he placed on your shoulder, and even more so when he kept it there until you felt as though you were able to stand up. 

You were to marry into House Harkonnen. That was your purpose; to unite the feuding houses and birth powerful offspring. You had met Feyd once before, but only for a fleeting moment. It hadn’t been awkward- no, back then the two of you hadn’t cared enough to pay any mind to the looming threat that was your betrothal. You’d been too young back then to fully grasp the severity of the situation. 

You remembered being shocked by his size. He towered over Paul, appearing to be years older than he really was. His hair had been dark back then, thick and slightly curly. 

He had only just been taken under his uncle’s wing at the time. The environment of Giedi Prime had yet to fully sink into the young boy. The Harkonnen’s looks had always been startling to you, no matter how many times you’d been exposed to it. They were dark creatures, brooding, hairless with skin as pale as milk- not to mention violent. 

The desperate way that Paul had clung to you was not lost on you. You let him squeeze you as tightly as he needed, your arms locking around his back. This meeting would change everything. In a matter of moments your life as you knew it would be taking a drastic turn, and not for the better. 

You’d made that very same trek to the parlor room a million times. This was your ancestral home- had been in your family longer than you thought was conceivable, and yet this felt new to you. Wrong. The shadows from the windows were casting strange lights on the wall beside you, and your footsteps sounded muffled in your ears as your pounding heart nearly deafened you. Your father’s hand brushed against your palm a few times, his attempt at showing you physical comfort without causing any sort of scene. You knew that this was Feyd-Rautha’s right. 

You were Feyd-Rautha’s right. That simple fact alone was enough to send you reeling, that morning's breakfast churning in your stomach. 

“It will be fine.” Your mother’s fingers shaped the words at her side, a comforting and silent presence. 

Your parents had always protected you. They had taught you well in all aspects of life. She was right. You had to trust yourself just as much as you trusted them. This will be fine. You will survive. 

But god, you wanted to live. 

Your worst fear was being locked up like a caged animal, only taken out to be played with or paraded around. You didn’t want to be somebody's little wife; you were no homemaker or bed warmer. 

‘I am better than this.’ You thought to yourself, your hands balling into fists at your sides. 

As the double doors began creeping open, you felt the sudden urge to run the opposite direction, your parents be damned. The feud between House Atreides and House Harkonnen would surely become deadly if you were to turn your back on the promise now, and that was the only thing that steeled your feet. You stood, back straight and hands clasped tightly at your front. 

You looked to be a pillar of strength, but oh- you were so close to crumbling. Your father took a step past the threshold, eyes hard as he bowed his head respectfully in the Baron’s direction. There was still time to turn around. The door was right there, and you were sure that you could commandeer a ship. You’d piloted a few times before in your life, and while you weren’t the best, you were certain you could get yourself the hell off of Caladan. You shuffled your feet, eyes wide as you looked up and caught your mother’s gaze. Her lips were parted, and you could tell that she was trying to decipher your expression. 

“What are you doing?” Her hand moved quickly at her side, the flowy gauze-like material of her skirts hiding her frantic movements from the visitor’s view. 

Nothing. You were doing nothing. There were no options yet. If you fled then the insubordination would fall back on your parents. If you downright refused then the outcome would be the same. There was nothing you could do but keep your mouth shut and try not to show the Harkonnen even a semblance of vulnerability. 

Disdain rolled off of you in waves as you breezed into the parlor, eyes locked on the side of your father’s face as he conversed with the baron. Tensions were high, even now. No pleasantries were being exchanged, that you were sure of. The Harkonnen’s stark black attire was a startling contrast to their pale skin. There, in the middle of two other men, whom you were sure were present for reasons of protection, was Feyd. 

He looked the same as the rest of them. Hairless, blue eyes dripping with something that could only be described as malice. Gone was the curly haired child that you remembered. In his place stood someone unrecognizable to you. You wanted to question what the Baron had done to Feyd, but you already knew. Perfection was expected on Geidi Prime. 

He had shaped Feyd into the very likeness of perfection. The once dark haired boy was now a walking, talking machine; not even a dead leaf echo of the boy you met all those years ago. 

You tried to map out every single one of his microexpressions, searching desperately for any sign that he might disapprove of the predicament the both of you had found yourselves in. He tilted his head to the side, observing you with a horrifying level of concentration. The Baron began to speak, saying something that you didn’t care enough to listen to. You were too distracted by the terrifying man before you. 

“She will come back home to Geidi Prime with us. No objections, correct?” 

You were marrying him out of an obligation, this he was already privy to. He had seen the reluctance written plain across your face as you’d entered the room. You’d wanted to run. Away from him, away from your responsibilities- and he could not blame you for it. His understanding stopped there though, simply because this proposal wasn’t going against his own wishes. 

“The wedding isn’t taking place for another week.” The Duke didn’t seem to like the idea of his unwed daughter leaving his side. 

Feyd fought back a smile, having known that the Baron’s sudden request would have this effect on the Atreides family. He watched you squirm like a bug under a magnifying glass, your hand moving at your hip. For a second he thought that you might be tugging at the seam of your dress, writing it off as nothing but a nervous tick- but then he saw the way your mother’s eyes followed those movements. 

The two of you were communicating. 

“That may be so, however I think that it is only right that your daughter,” Baron Vladimir motioned in your direction. “Becomes better acquainted with Feyd. You don’t agree?” 

His uncle decided that it was best to test the boundaries of this alliance. He was pushing the Duke, seeing how far he could get. Leto’s lips twitched, his eyes flickering thoughtfully towards you. Feyd was finding it hard to pay attention to anyone else other than you in the room. He’d spent years imagining what you would look like as an adult- dreamt about it. He’d eagerly been awaiting this moment, counting the days that he could finally be reunited with you. 

It wasn’t just because he had been promised powerful heirs. It was the thought that someone was fated to marry him. Since before he was even conceived, you had always been promised to him. That idea had been put into his head since childhood. You were the constant topic in his mind, a person that was unavoidably meant to be in his life for the rest of his days. 

In a strange way he had loved you since he was but a child. 

Seeing you for that first time had been better than he had anticipated. You were a beautiful little girl, but now? The child that he had met all those years ago did not hold a candle to the grace and brilliance of the woman that stood before him. Nobody else could ever compare. You didn’t have to fall for him right now, he was content with that. Hell, you didn’t even have to tolerate him.  He would find pleasure in wearing you down. He was going to make you love him.

I must not fear. Fear is the mind killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. 

The adrenaline had run its way out of your system, leaving you cold and alone on a planet that was so incredibly alien to you, you weren’t sure how you’d ever be expected to adjust. Even the oxygen felt different in your lungs- the sweet, acrid smell of chemicals tinging the air around you. It was nothing like your home on Caladan. Your home was a stone castle, but this? This was a cold, black fortress. 

You weren’t sure if it was meant to keep people out. . . or in. 

You thought back to that fateful day with the reverend mother. 

“You’ve heard of animals chewing off a leg to escape a trap? There’s an animal kind of trick. A human would remain in the trap, endure the pain, feigning death that he might kill the trapper and remove a threat to his kind.” 

You couldn’t chew your leg off to be free of this. No, you had to lay in wait. Only then could you strike if the situation called for it. 

“Striking” could wait until tomorrow though. For now you wanted to rid yourself of the anxiety. Sleep was the only cure you could think of. 

“Is the room to your liking?” That husky voice of his was already grating on your nerves. 

Feyd had only attempted to speak to you a few times and already you were sick and tired of his presence. He was a constant reminder that you would never know what it was like to be free. Then again, was anybody in the galaxy truly free? Feyd sure seemed to be carefree in his current position. 

His tone felt off, like he was toying with you. 

“I would be far more pleased about my new living quarters if you were to leave.” You said simply, pulling the slate gray blanket up and over your chin. 

You weren’t sure if it was due to his ill-breeding, but he didn’t seem to care that you were in nothing but your night dress. He walked into the room in long-legged strikes, letting the door shut behind him. Never before had the two of you been alone together, not since you were children at least. If you were back in your family home you would feel safer during a moment like this. 

You were in his territory now, meaning he had full reign over everything. Your father and family name couldn’t protect you on Geidi Prime. 

“You’re in quite the rush to be rid of me,” He didn’t falter for even a second as he moved to sit down on the edge of the bed, leaning back against the plush mattress with a small sigh. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think that you didn’t like me.” He didn’t seem upset at the notion of you disliking him. In fact, there was a glint in his eyes. That same sort of silvery glint you’d seen in the reverend mother’s eyes all those years ago: a challenge. 

This was nothing but a challenge to him. You were a conquest, and you detested that. Your stomach soured, your face becoming pinched as you glared at him. This was all too much too fast. You were in the comfort of your own home not even four hours ago, and now you were expected to make small talk with the source of your life-long discontent.  

“And what of your concubines? Could you not pester them tonight and give me a moment's peace?” 

“I dismissed them from their duties, permanently, weeks ago.” He said simply, his fingers running along the cotton of the comforter. 

“What?” You’d never heard of such a thing. 

“Spending time with them would be a waste.” His blue eyes flickered up to meet your eyes. “Acquiring concubines had just been a show of status.” 

It took you a few moments to process what he was saying, the burning hatred you had felt just moments ago flickering out into a dull flame. 

“Why would spending time with them be a waste? Am I expected to spend that much time with you?” A horror, truly. You had hoped that you’d be able to get away with spending a night or two a week with him, if only to achieve the Bene Gesserit’s goal of siring an heir. 

“A waste of time. A waste of seed,” He looked at you pointedly, his lip pulling up into a smile that revealed more of his black teeth. “And both of those things are important to me.” 

Your stomach hollowed out as you were once again reminded of what was expected of you. You had a week to prepare mentally for your wedding night, which you weren’t sure was enough. 

“And what happened to the concubines? Are they still being housed here?” 

“Why? Are you jealous?” He was smiling even wider than he was before. 

A shiver ran through you as you noticed how predatory his body language was- you felt like prey under his haughty gaze. It was hard to believe that Feyd had been administered the Gom Jabbar test and passed. 

This man was no human. He was an animal, that you were certain. 

“Wickedly.” Your tone was flat and noncommittal. Even now, you never saw Feyd as a potential lover. 

The man that was your so-called “destiny” was also your jailer. 

“Well then you’ll be happy to know that they no longer live here. . . or anywhere, for that matter.” He sat up, rolling his shoulders back to stretch his broad muscles.

The blood drained from your face as you stared up at him from your spot on the bed. He must have felt the weight of your gaze and turned his head, his eyes alight with. . . pleasure. Violence was as ingrained in him as breathing was. It was his life. Standing before you was the prince of death- pale, striking and terrifying. 

Animal, indeed. 

I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain. 

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A/N: this chapter was plot heavy, I know, however it was crucial to give you guys some background information so that I can better build tension. the beautiful dividers were created by @ kitsunecafe!

[multific]

The Dreamer Empress

Emperor Geta x Reader

Warnings: mention of murder, blood, and spoilers of the movie. The reader's character is based on Helaena Targaryen from House of the Dragon. 

Summary: You always dreamt—dreams of death, happiness and the Empire. But your dreams always come true.

The Dreamer Empress.

That is what the people of Rome called you.

What not one of them knew is how your dreams always come true.

Even as a child, you had dreams, and soon your suspicions were confirmed.

You dreamed of a man with firey hair whom you would marry. Who would love you so much, it was unimaginable. 

But whenever you see him in your dreams, he always has fire and death surrounding him.

You knew that had to be a sign.

A sign of his true nature.

But his eyes were so soft as he looked at you.

He couldn't be that bad right?

Perhaps you shouldn't have assumed so much. 

Perhaps you should have believed your dreams.

Emperor Geta was sadistic, angry and impatient.

But his eyes as he looked at you, seemed to change.

You saw it in them.

But you got scared, turned around and left.

After all, how would you explain to him that you have been having dreams about him? About a life you two can have.

The Emperor.

Of all men.

Of course, it had to be the Emperor.

You thought about running far. Never meet him again, but you still went to the Colosseum.

You still sat so you could see him. 

You watched as he decided on the fate of the men.

How can you already love him?

You only met him in your dreams.

Never even spoke a single word with him.

And yet you knew, you loved him.

Then, he suddenly looked at you. Of all the people there, his eyes locked with yours. 

And you immediately knew, there was no point in running. 

You were destined for him.

You met him the same day.

He was drinking some wine while his brother was laughing.

Geta was drawn to you the moment you entered. You tried your best to avoid him, but you knew it was pointless.

He found you and you gave yourself to him fully.

"Marry me." he whispered into the night before he kissed you.

---

You woke up in his arms, like many mornings before. 

You stirred and so did he. 

"My Love?" his voice was always so deep in the mornings.

"I had a dream." you whispered and he moved his head into your neck, you hugged him. "I dreamt... your brother was holding your head, but, your body wasn't there and Macrinus was behind your brother with a bloody knife in his hand."

"My Empress and her dreams. My Beautiful Wife and her gift from the Gods."

Geta learned about your dreams almost right after you two wed. You mentioned to him a Gladiator he would like. The next day, a new Gladiator showed up, earning the amusement of both Emperors.

Later, you mentioned to him a plan. The Senator's plan to overthrow him and his brother. You told him that in your dreams the Senator gathered with his people behind a lion.

Geta's soldiers found the Senator and his group of men hiding in a room with a lion statue blocking the door.

Geta believed in your dreams. He had no reason not to. They were all true.

He was the first to call your dreams a gift from the Gods.

"I will make sure Macrinus' plan falls." he said before kissing your lips. "My wife cannot lose me."

"I truly cannot." you looked into his eyes and he smiled, knowing just how serious you were.

He made sure Macrinus failed. 

Geta promised you a long and fulfilling life. And he would make sure to give you just that. 

Weeks passed, then a whole year.

Rome was growing and the people were happy.

They all loved the Empress, as much as the Emperor did.

"You haven't been having dreams recently." Geta noted one evening when you got ready for bed.

"I do have them, Geta. They are happy ones."

"You said those are rare."

"They are. But they do happen."

"Will you tell me what it was?"

"I had a dream of you with a boy."

"A boy?" he asked confused.

"Your son, I believe he was. He called me Mother as he ran to me when you told him to and he looked much like you."

"You dreamt of us having a son and didn't tell me?" he sounded rather hurt.

"I am sure I'm not pregnant."

"I know but... sometimes I wish I could see your dreams. The happy ones sound truly spectacular."

You smiled at him as you lay down in your bed.

"I am so used to seeing bad things, I rather not get carried away when I see something happy. I didn't mention this one to you because I was afraid it wouldn't come true."

"Of course it will. All of your dreams come true. This won't be any different. We will have that beautiful boy you saw. And we will be happy. I promise you, My Love."

"I like your promises. They are much like my dreams. You always make sure they become real." he kissed you on the lips after he joined you in bed. Moving to lay you on your back and he moved on top of you.

"That is because I simply love you."

"And I love you too." you said with a tear in your eye and pulled him in for another kiss.

Just how glad you were for not running away.

You were glad you stayed and decided to face your destiny. 

You were glad to have such a man by your side.

The crazy and violent Emperor of the people, who was also your loving and caring husband.

Gladiator II Collection

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou 

@mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief 

@fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen 

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, TO STEAL OR TO REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[girlgenius1111]

learning curve

alexia putellas x reader [& r's nephew] r gets custody of her 5 year old nephew when her brother gets into trouble. alexia insists on sticking around even though r gives her an out. it's a new and entirely stressful situation for r, but alexia makes it a bit easier. fluff, angst, etc. this is a kidfic.

—

How was it possible? That the most ordinary of days could be just one phone call away from shattering life as you knew it. 

You should have known, really. Should have seen it coming. You were happy for the first time in a while. Happy in your career, in your relationship. Of course something would come along to change everything. 

It was a pleasant day off, the day you got the call. A slow morning where Alexia woke up way before you, but didn’t get up. Instead, she let you sleep in her arms, completely content to just… be there with you. You’d made breakfast together, Alexia’s voice raspy from lack of use, pressing kisses to your shoulders, your face, your neck, as if she couldn’t help it. It was purely and entirely happy. 

Your phone rang just after breakfast. It was an unknown number and you never answered unknown numbers but something about the call made your stomach drop. You clicked the answer button and gave Alexia an apologetic smile, walking out of the room. 

“Hello?” You greeted, tapping your foot impatiently when no one said anything right away. Alexia had put on her favorite show, and as much as you pretended to despise the soap, you were hooked. 

The robotic, pre-recorded message that began startled you.

“This call is from a person currently incarcerated in prison. All calls are logged and recorded and may be listened to by a member of prison staff. If you do not wish to accept this call, please hang up now.” 

It wasn’t shocking, not really. You’d gotten calls like this before, but not for a few years. He used to call a lot, when he first started getting into trouble, asking for money for a lawyer. At the time, you hadn’t had any to give him. Eventually those specific calls stopped. You still heard from him, but not through a call being recorded by a prison. 

He hadn’t been arrested in 5 years. And now… the stakes were much higher. 

“Hello?” The deep voice of your brother came over the line, sounding utterly defeated. 

“Leo.” You sighed. “What happened?” 

“I fucked up. I… Will wanted to start football. But I couldn’t… I couldn’t pay for boots for him. I just wanted to get him something nice.” Leo choked out. You could hear the emotion in his voice, and ignored the pang in your chest as you pictured the little boy just two years older than you, lip trembling as he promised he’d take care of everything. 

“Leo, why didn’t you call me? And ask for help?” 

“I didn’t want to bother you. You’re busy and I should be able to provide for my son. I shouldn’t have to ask my little sister for help, I should have it figured out.” 

“So… this is better? Getting arrested for petty theft and then calling me for help?” You asked sarcastically, though you understood him more than you’d admit. The need to be independent, completely self sufficient. The sinking feeling you’d get when you had to ask for help with something… you still felt that, too.

Your brother was quiet for a moment. Long enough that dread started to build up inside of you again. 

“It’s not petty theft.” He said finally. “It’s grand theft. And accessory to assault. The guy I was working with went a bit rogue.” 

“Jesus.” You sighed. “How long?” 

Another long silence. 

“How long, Leo?”

“10-15 years.” 

You could practically see the tears falling from his eyes in your head, and you knew just by his tone he wasn’t calling for money. Not this time. You could see Alexia out of the corner of your eye, hovering in the doorway uncertainly. 

“I… I signed the papers, to give you custody of Will. To make it easier to take him back to Spain with you. He’d be yours, and I know it’s a lot to ask, and if I had any other option, I would, but the only other option is putting him in the system, and I don’t want that for him. I don’t. I’m so sorry to ask this of you, really I–”

“It’s okay.” You breathed. “It’s alright. Of course, I’ll take him. Of course I will.”

Alexia moved closer, resting a hand on your shoulder once she noticed the tears in your eyes. You let her anchor you, suddenly very sure that this was it with her. Today had been the last nice day you’d have with her, and you hadn’t even known it. 

 But there wasn’t a question of whether you’d do it or not. 

“Are you sure? With your career and–”

“I can make it work.” You said. “I’ll make it work.” 

“Okay.” Leo replied, sounding overwhelmingly relieved. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I wish I–” 

“I’ll be there as soon as I can to get him.” You cut in, unwilling to hear another apology. It wouldn’t fix anything.

 Leo gave you the name of the woman to call, before saying goodbye and hanging up. Even after the call ended, you remained frozen, thinking through all the details, all the things you needed to do, unsure where to start. 

“Amor?” 

Right. That’s where you had to start. 

You turned to Alexia, your face completely impassive. It was the face you made when the team lost and you were upset, or when you got hurt and didn’t want to cry. It was you running from vulnerability, and it had been a long time since Alexia had seen you make it towards her. She’d thought you were past this. 

“My brother was arrested. I’m getting custody of his son. Will. He’s 5. I’m going to bring him back to Spain with me.” You spoke robotically, eyes fixed on a point on the wall just beyond Alexia’s shoulder. 

“Oh… oh wow.” Alexia breathed, nodding her head slowly as she took the information in. 

“It’s a good thing I didn’t get rid of my old apartment. I’ll move my stuff when I get back, you don’t need to worry about any of it. I’ll move back in there and–”

“Why would you do that?” Alexia interrupted, her face twisted with confusion. You looked at her for a moment, her brown roots growing out and the oversized t-shirt she had on. It was soft, your favorite for her to wear because you loved the way the fabric felt on your skin when she held you. 

God this was hard.  

“I… I won’t do this to you, Ale. I won’t. You don’t need this, but I have to–”

“No. Stop. We are not breaking up, and you are not moving out.” 

You turned away from her when you saw the tears in her eyes, clenching your fists tightly and taking a few slow deep breaths. She was making this so hard, but you should have known she would. 

“Alexia,” you began, your voice abruptly cutting off when the midfielder gently grabbed you by the shoulders and turned back towards her. 

“No. No.” She repeated, shaking her head over and over. “Do you love me?” 

You exhaled sharply, desperately wanting to wipe the tear off her cheek. To cradle her face in your hands, and kiss her frown away. You should lie, that would be the best choice. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. 

“I do, Ale. I love you so much. That’s why–”

“Then that’s it. You love me and I love you and people who love each other do not break up.” Alexia said firmly, her lip trembling even as she bit it to make it stop. 

“Alexia, please. It’s okay. You don’t have to do this with me, I could never ask you to.” 

“You are not asking. I am telling you. I am not going anywhere, and neither are you. You bring Will here and we’ll figure it out together. Together, amor.” 

She moved closer, her hands cradling your cheeks, wiping your tears away just as you’d wanted to do with hers. Somehow, she was convincing you. Like she always did. Whenever it felt too unbelievable that she loved you, whenever you became absolutely convinced that you’d tricked her or something, and tried to leave for her. She always convinced you to stay, because she knew you never really wanted to leave her. 

“It’s gonna be a lot.” You murmured, your hands finding their way to her waist, your body giving in before your brain did. “It’s gonna be really hard, especially with work.” 

“We can do it. Together.” Alexia promised, leaning forward to dust a kiss across the tip of your nose. “I love you. I’m not going anywhere. We’re going to do it together, okay? Don’t push me out. Please.” 

“Okay.” You allowed, finally giving in and leaning into her. She wrapped her arms around your body, squeezing so tight it almost hurt. 

“Promise me? No pushing me away.” She whispered into your ear. 

“I promise.” You breathed the words back, knowing, somehow, that you wouldn’t break this promise. Never before had you gone back on something you’d promised Alexia, and you didn’t intend to start now. 

—

The plane ride had been long, and though you were already exhausted, you hadn’t slept a wink. You were wide awake when the plane took off, and wide awake when it landed hours later. Some sleep would have really done you some good, but there was nothing to do about that now. 

It was really an amalgamation of all of your least favorite things. The social services office was just as bad as you remembered it. Just as… lonely, regardless of how incredibly crowded it was. It was overly beige, from the walls down to the outfit the woman sitting across from you was wearing. Susan. Even her name sounded beige. Then, there was the paperwork. An endless pile of it on the desk in front of you. Your hand was starting to cramp from signing, and all you wanted was to see Will. Physically see him, make sure he was okay. He was somewhere in this building, surrounded by strangers. It was impossible not to picture him, all small and scared in an office, wondering if you were really coming for him. 

You remembered that feeling. No one had ever come for you and Leo. 

But you were here for Will. You were here for him, and it didn’t matter too much that he barely knew you; at least, that's what you told yourself. 

You were his aunt that lived far away in Spain, that sent at least three presents for his birthday every year, and three more for Christmas. You talked to him on the phone every so often, and Leo liked to send a picture of Will wearing your kit every few months. He liked dinosaurs and crafts, and he adored your brother. Will’s mom had never been in the picture; you’d never met her, never even gotten Leo to tell you her name. It was just the two of them, and you knew it was hard. You didn’t know it was this hard for your brother, though. You’d have stepped in much sooner if you’d known. 

Signing the last piece of paper, you inhaled deeply and slid it back across the desk towards Susan. 

“Okay! That’s everything in order. It would be a lot more complicated if your brother hadn’t signed over his rights. Great foresight of him, to have the paperwork all ready!”

Yeah. Great foresight. Leo clearly possessed that. 

“I’ll go get Will! Like I said before, he’s been having a tough time, but the minute he arrived here he asked for you, telling us he was supposed to make sure that his Aunt came for him if anything ever happened to his Dad. I think he’ll settle once he finally sees you.” 

Susan smiled kindly, stepping away from the desk and briskly walking down the hall. 

The words settled something in you that worried Will wouldn’t want to go with you, while at the same time, making you so incredibly frustrated. Leo could make sure to prepare Will for this exact situation to occur, yet he couldn’t avoid committing felonies? 

Before you could think too hard about what to say or do, there he was. Walking slowly down the hall next to Susan, a blue dinosaur clutched tightly to his chest. His brown hair fell messily around his head, in a way that reminded you of your brother. He was small, wearing a sweatshirt and shorts and a pair of velcro shoes. Small and scared, his face creased with anxiety and fear, even as he approached you. 

“Here she is!” Susan said encouragingly, gently nudging Will closer when he came to a stop just in front of you. He was gazing up at you with wide, unsure eyes, and you could see tear tracks on his cheeks, his eyes red and puffy. He was so small. 

It was instinctual, something you didn’t even know you possessed that had you kneeling down and opening your arms. Will’s forehead un-creased just slightly, and he rushed forward, wrapping his arms tight around your neck. 

“Hey, buddy. Everything’s okay now. I’ve got you.” You whispered, holding tightly to the little boy that was clinging onto you as if you were the last stable thing in the world. And you supposed you were; in his world at least. 

Will exhaled shakily. For the first time in two whole days, he felt just a tiny bit safe. He didn’t know you well, granted, but his Daddy had always told him that if there was an emergency, to make sure to call you. He’d taught Will how to click your contact and call. Will hadn’t been sure you’d come. You lived far away, and he barely ever saw you. The two of you were strangers practically. But Leo had always told Will that you’d come for him if he needed you. And Leo had never broken a promise to Will before… Well not until the other day, he’d waited in the office at school for a whole hour after the bell rang. When someone came for him, it wasn’t his Dad. It was a police officer with a mustache and a mean face, and all Will could do was cry, and make sure that the police officer knew he had to call you. And though the details Will had been given were few, he knew his Dad had been bad and he was in trouble. Big trouble. The police officer had sounded all angry and stern when he’d told Will this, softening only slightly when Will asked when he’d get to see his Dad again.

The police officer hadn’t answered, instead telling Will that he was being taken to the social services office, where he’d wait to figure out what the next steps were. 

Will had waited for you, and even though the nice lady had told him you were coming, it took a while. More than one day, but he couldn’t quite remember. It felt like forever. 

But now you were here, and you’d given him a hug that felt like the hugs his Dad gave him, and he didn’t feel like he had to try to be brave anymore. Your arms didn’t loosen around him even as you stood up, and Will let himself relax. Just for a moment. 

—

“We going to Spain?” Will wondered, gripping two of your fingers when you held out your hand towards him. He trotted along next to you as you headed from the social services building down the block to your hotel. 

“Yeah. Barcelona.” You affirmed. Luckily, Will had been able to talk to Leo on the phone, and Leo told him what the plan was. 

“Bar-sa-lonuh? Or Spain?” 

“Barcelona is a city in Spain.” You clarified. “We’ll go there on a plane tomorrow morning.” 

“Is it a big plane?” 

“It’s a pretty big plane. Have you ever been on a plane before?” 

Will shook his head, brown curls blowing backwards slightly in the wind.

“It’ll be fun. We’ll get snacks and… pick out a few movies to watch. And you can sleep if you want to.” 

“Snacks and movies?” Will repeated. 

“Yes! Does that sound fun?” You tried to sound excited even though there wasn’t really anything you were dreading more than the long flight with a five year old. 

Will just shrugged, his hand tightening around your fingers. You shifted the strap of his big duffel bag so it was further up on your shoulder, stopping just outside the hotel and bending down so you were eye level with him. 

“I know it’s a lot of change, Will. And I know you don’t know me very well but–” 

“My Daddy said you’re nice. And that you’ll take good care of me.” Will whispered, tearing up as he remembered the phone call he’d gotten to have with his father this morning. Leo had called you right after, himself trying to hold it together as he explained he told Will that you were coming for him. 

“I’m going to do my very best to take good care of you. We’re gonna figure it out together, alright?” 

Will nodded slowly, taking a deep breath and rubbing at his eye with his fist. “Alright.” 

You figured that was the best you’d get, for now. 

—

“Tia?” Will whispered. You turned, finding him all tucked into one of the double beds, the covers pulled up to his chin. He was so small, the dinosaur pajamas he’d pulled out of his duffel bag a bit too big on him. ‘Dad said I’d grow into them if I ate my vegetables’, Will had said. Your brother was many things, and a good father was one of them. He was giving you a huge responsibility and huge shoes to fill. 

Refocusing on Will and not how much he looked like your brother, you smiled, walking over and sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“What’s up, buddy?” You asked, hesitating for a moment before reaching and out brushing one of his curls away from his face. His whole body relaxed at the motion, and he looked a bit more confident as he opened his mouth to speak again. 

“Do we have to go to Spain? We… we can’t stay here?” 

Your heart twisted in your chest. You thought of your brother's words on the phone the past few days. He’d repeated it a few times, as if knowing the doubt you’d carry. 

You can’t leave Spain. You have a career and a life there. Will speaks a bit of Spanish, and he’ll adjust. He needs to be with you, and you need to be where you’re going to be happy. That will be the best thing for him.

Leo spoke with a wisdom in his voice that used to infuriate you, but you’d decided to trust the big brother voice, this time. Because he was Will’s dad, and he knew what Will needed. 

“We have to go to Spain.” You confirmed. Will frowned, an unhappy look on his face that tore at your emotions. “I know, it’s going to be an adjustment. But your Dad told me to take you there, and he always knows best, right?” 

Will looked conflicted. “I like it here.”

“I know, I know you do.” You paused, thinking once again back to your brother's advice. 

Talk to him like he’s a person, not a baby. He’s a smart kid, he’ll understand. 

“I play football in Spain. It’s my job there, so that’s where we have to be for now. But you’ll like it, I promise. It’s warm and sunny and it has really good food. Alexia is there, and I know you’ll love her, and she’s so excited to meet you in person.” 

Thankfully, Will had met Alexia over facetime before, and knew that you were together. You didn’t have to introduce the idea to him, as he’d somehow already seemed to know it wouldn’t just be the two of you when you arrived in Spain. 

Will looked doubtful, and you could see the anxiety clearly written across his face. His features were so like Leo’s, and it was the same face your brother always had when he was nervous about something. The same face you had when you were nervous about something. 

“Why don’t you ask me questions about Spain? And I’ll answer them, and then you’ll know more before we get there.” 

Will was a talker, that much you knew. And so the questions began, about the food in Spain, about school in Spain, about the team you played for, and whether there were dinosaur toys there. Question after question, until you laid down on the bed next to him, eyes barely open. 

“Do you live in a house in Spain?” Will asked, his energy still in full force as he asked what felt like the 500th question of the evening. 

“An apartment, but you’ll have your own room.” 

“And Alexia lives there?” 

You nodded groggily. 

“Does she speak Spanish?” 

“She does, but she also speaks English.” 

Will hummed. “My Dad was teaching me some Spanish for when we met Alexia. He said your tia taught you both Spanish and that's why I call you tia because that’s Spanish for aunt.” 

At this, you cracked a smile, forcing your eyes open as you nodded. “That’s true. We lived with our tia for a while and she taught us Spanish.” 

“Is it hard to learn? I’m not very good.” Will wondered, his questions seemingly endless. 

“Mmm, not hard. You’ll pick it up quickly, especially at school and with Alexia helping you with it.” 

“Is she nice?” 

“She’s very nice.” You promised, eyes flying open when you realized you had a text from Alexia you hadn’t yet read or responded to. Will yawned hugely as you pulled your phone out of your sweatshirt pocket, and you smiled down at him again. 

“Go to sleep, buddy. I can answer more questions tomorrow.” 

With a small grunt of agreement and another yawn, he rolled over. Right into you, his head resting against your arm. It was indescribable, the soft feeling that filled your heart. Soft adoration, even as you stilled the left side of your body completely so as not to disturb him. 

You didn’t know much about kids, but it seemed you knew enough. For now. 

Finally, you opened Alexia’s text, tears pooling in your eyes as you read her words. 

Amor! I hope everything is going well. You’re doing great already, I am sure of it. I stopped at the store and got a few things for Will. You said he likes dinosaurs, sí?I love you, I’ll see you tomorrow. I can’t wait to hug you. 

God, you couldn’t wait to see her. It wasn’t very odd for the two of you to spend a night apart, but something about this felt different. You missed her deeply, fully, needed her to hold you and promise everything was going to be okay. The anxiety of how this whole new life would work was almost overshadowed by your excitement to see her again. 

Almost. 

—

Will was a pretty well behaved kid, you’d learned. Very sleepy when he woke up in the morning, but he snapped right out of it when you asked him what he wanted to download to watch on the plane. He very eagerly selected three disney movies, and you realized with a pang to your chest that all three were movies you and your brother had grown up on. 

All three were Leo’s favorites, if you remembered right. 

And now they were Will’s. 

Not being the biggest fan of crowds, the airport clearly made your nephew nervous. He fidgeted his little hands together, walking so close to you that he ran into you every time you stopped. His hand would dart out to grab onto the hem of your t-shirt whenever anyone got too close to him, and he almost cried when the security agent made him walk through the metal detector by himself. 

You figured this made sense, that after his whole world had been turned upside down, of course he’d attached himself onto the most stable thing he could find. That happened to be you. It was just… odd. Something you weren’t used to. The checklist you’d made on your phone helped, reminding you to ask Will if he had to go to the bathroom, if he was hungry or thirsty, if he had any more questions about the plane. It was more than terrifying, honestly, that you were suddenly fully responsible for this small boy. 

There was stress, of course. But there was also something so… incredibly different in the way Will pressed his face to the glass of the plane window, staring wide eyed as the plane took off. For every moment you worried you were messing up, even in the first 24 hours, there were 10 moments where Will rested his head against your shoulder or reached for your hand, or offered you one of his animal crackers with a smile that had you convinced that for your nephew, maybe you could do this. 

—

“I can walk, Tia.” Will mumbled, squirming slightly in your arms. 

You chuckled, rubbing his back softly. “It’s okay, buddy, it’s crowded and I know that makes you nervous.”  

You’d picked him up a moment ago, after noticing how terrified he looked at the massive crowds making their way through the airport. It was a struggle to wrangle both of your bags in one hand, while holding Will in the other, but you didn’t want him to be uncomfortable. You took two steps towards the exit before you had to stop and readjust, wishing you had another pair of hands here to help. 

Alexia had texted that she was there, and though you’d assumed that meant she was outside in her car, your eyes met hers across the bustling baggage claim before you had to take another step. 

Your whole body practically sagged with relief, your bags falling to the ground where you stood as Alexia made her way over to you both, a concerned and sympathetic smile on her face. 

“Mi amor,” she greeted, softly kissing your temple and pulling you into as much of a hug as she could manage with Will still in your arms. 

“Hi.” You choked out, almost in tears at the sight of her. Here, in front of you, at the perfect time. With a smile on her face, already reaching for your bags. 

“Hi, Will.” She said gently. 

Will peaked out from where his face had become hidden in your neck, relaxing a bit when he saw the semi familiar face. 

“Hi.” He whispered back, turning his face back in towards you and shutting his eyes. 

“He’s tired.” You explained, but Alexia just waved you off, beginning to lead you from the airport to the parking garage. It was much easier now that you only had to worry about carrying Will, who was quickly becoming dead weight in your arms as he drifted off. 

“Of course he is, it has been a long few days. I bet you’re exhausted too. We can go home and go right to sleep, sí? We can worry about anything else tomorrow.” 

You nodded your agreement, not even wanting to contemplate the state of your to do list at the moment, though it was getting harder and harder to ignore. 

As you arrived at the car, you shouldn’t have been surprised by the car seat perfectly installed in the back of Alexia’s car. You’d mentioned needing one to her, but for some reason… you half expected her to forget. Or get the wrong one. You weren’t sure why, but it was just something that you thought you’d have to do. 

Yet when you opened the door to the back seat, it was all done for you. The perfect size for Will, buckled in correctly and everything. You carefully deposited him in the seat and buckled him in, before turning to Alexia, once again with tears in your eyes. 

“Thank you for getting that.” You mumbled, shutting the car door as quietly as you could. 

“Of course.” Alexia said easily, her lips curving into a smile as she opened her arms for you. You practically collapsed into them, gripping tight to your girlfriend as she did the same to you. 

“I missed you so much.” You cried. 

“I missed you too, mi amor. You have no idea.” Alexia whispered back, her hand threading through your hair as she just held you for a moment. Eventually she leaned down to press her lips to yours. You kissed her back, taking in the feel of her hands as they cupped your jaw, her fading blonde hair tickling the side of your face. 

When you pulled back from the kiss, she was still gazing at you so lovingly it made your heart burst. 

“Let’s get you both home.” She suggested, and you nodded your agreement, needing nothing more than to be home in that moment. 

—

The relief you felt when you finally stepped back into your apartment wasn’t complete relief. Because you were home, but everything was different. There was a whole other person that had to fit into your life now, and you didn’t even know where to begin carving out a space for him. There was figuring out a school that could accommodate a five year old that spoke very little Spanish. Then there was finding childcare for when training didn’t perfectly align with school, or when the team was traveling. Would you bring Will with for away games? 

The issues you needed to address were seemingly endless, but most urgently was that the extra bedroom was not fit for a child. It had a double bed, which would work for now, but didn’t leave much room for anything else. What did a kid even need in his bedroom? 

Toys, of course. 

Books. 

A desk? 

A dresser? Or would the closet be enough? 

God he would need more clothes. 

And food that he'd like to eat. 

And shampoo and conditioner for kids. Those were different from adult hair products, right? 

That was most urgent, you decided. Making your home a home for him. 

“We should go shopping tomorrow.” You murmured, shifting Will in your arms a bit as you headed for the guest bedroom. He’d fallen asleep in the car and it was night, so it made sense for him to keep sleeping. 

What time did kids his age go to bed? 7? 8? You had no idea. Another question to answer. 

With a gentle hand on your back guiding you down the hall, Alexia hummed in agreement, but you missed the small smile on her face. “I bought a few things.” She reminded you. 

Your assumption was that a few things were a pair of pajamas, a new toy. A book, maybe? But when Alexia stepped around you to push the bedroom door open, your jaw dropped. 

A few things, apparently, was an entirely redecorated room. A beautifully redecorated room. The walls were no longer white; instead they were painted a soft green. A wooden twin bed sat in the corner, a green canopy hanging the tall headboard and footboard. The bed was covered in a green comforter, a soft throw blanket, and 4 different pillows. A long shelf sat just under the large window, filled with toys and books. There was a separate toy box next to the bookshelf, overflowing with even more toys; cars and books and dolls and stuffed animals. Everything. Wall decor, a rug, a dresser, a cozy chair in the corner next to a lamp. 

Alexia had thought of everything. And if you’d had any doubts about her dedication to this, to you, to Will, you no longer did. Alexia had done what you’d been too preoccupied to think of and made Will a space that was entirely his own, a place he could feel safe and comforted. She’d made your home his home without a second thought. 

Without a word, you walked further into the room, choking back a sob as you laid a still sleeping Will down carefully on the bed. He shifted in his sleep, snuggling close to the soft pillows as you draped the throw blanket over him. 

When you finally turned back towards your girlfriend, she was hovering in the doorway, chewing on her bottom lip as she gazed at you worriedly. 

“Too much?” She whispered. 

You barely held back the scoff that would have been much too loud, crossing the room quickly and throwing your arms around her. 

“No. Perfect. You're perfect. Thank you.” You mumbled into her neck, pressing kiss after kiss to the skin you found there. Alexia tightened her hold, walking the two of you backwards and out the door so you didn’t wake Will. 

“Are you crying?” Alexia asked, her thumb tracing across your cheek bone as she leaned back from your embrace. 

You sniffled pathetically, leaning back in to press your forehead to Alexia’s chest and steady yourself. 

“I was just so overwhelmed and you did this and it’s perfect Ale. Thank you. Thank you.” 

Alexia pressed a kiss to the top of your head, squeezing you tightly. 

“You don’t have to thank me. I promised, no? I’m here. We are doing this together.” 

“I love you.” You cried, overwhelmed with love and wonder at what an incredible person your girlfriend was. You’d already known, but she always found a way to surprise you, doing something so absurdly kind and thoughtful that you were struck all over again with how good she was. 

“I love you too.” Alexia replied, swaying the two of you back and forth gently. 

There were still a lot of unknowns. A lot of problems to solve and things to figure out. But you’d never been more sure that you could do it. It wasn’t ideal, but you had Alexia and that was certainly ideal. 

—

JUST finished this so PLEASE tell me if you catch a typo also planning more parts to this but i'm VERY open to ideas if you have them :)

[bluetimeombre]

☽｡⋆ Learning to fly, starting to crawl

Over one hundred years ago, you lost your wings but the wound still hurts like it was only yesterday. When your brothers mate wants to learn to fly, he doesn’t hesitate in teaching her, right in front of you. And nobody can see the scars except the one you love…

[OMG I'M ALIVE!!!! I've had this sitting in my drafts for months but have only just got around to posting. Basically, I have too many hobbies but i'm in a writing mood again., very fitting to start with my boy AZRIEL, whom i love very much. I hope you enjoy. This is linked to my other Azriel fic but of course can be read alone. Not proof-read and yes, she lost her wings. It's becoming almost a thing but it makes for some good ass angst. ENJOY!!!!]

☽｡⋆

The inner circle all sat around the table, eating and chatting merrily. Rhysand sat at the head of the table, as was tradition, while his mate- Feyre- sat next to him, their hands entwined. They smiled at each other, as so in love they were. Cassian and Mor were joking around along with Amren and Elian listened politely. Every now and then, she glanced the shadow singers way to invite him into the conversation but there was no such luck.

Azriel only stared ahead of him, glaring at the empty space where you usually sat. He wasn’t at all surprised you hadn’t turned up, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t be angry about it.

For a few weeks now he’d noticed the shift in you. You snapped easily and often rolled your eyes at anything your brother- the high lord- had to say. He’d heard you pace your rooms at night and his shadows (that favoured you above all) had reported that many nights you went to Rita’s.

But your empty seat irked him. And it irked him that Rhys seemed to not care in the slightest.

Az was the first to be aware of your presence, the echo of the door opening alerting them all and your scent hit him in the face. He inhaled it- your lavender, your sweetness, tinted by the alcohol lingering.

Rhysand huffed and everyone seemed to notice the shift. ‘I apologize about this, Feyre darling.’

Just then, you and Nesta stumbled into the room, arms linked and laughing your heads off about something or other.

Azriel drank you in. Your cheeks were flushed, your dress creased as you struggled to stay up right. Gods, what had you done?

You pouted dramatically, throwing a hand on your hip. ‘Uh oh, Rhysands got his grumpy face on.’

‘Isn’t that his usual?’ Said Nesta, causing the two of you to laugh again.

Everyone watched the two of you.

‘Where have you been?’ Az asked, wanting to rush to you and support you, but Rhys seemed one breath away from snapping.

‘We’re trying to have a pleasant meal, don’t ruin it,’ he grumbled.

‘Yes sir!’ You saluted.

Rhys growled and Feyre took his hand, squeezing it tightly.

‘Something tells me we’re not wanted, y/n,’ Nesta said to her.

‘Alas, we do not want to be here,’ you said, stumbling your way past the table. Before you went, you gave Feyre a squeeze on the shoulder, leaning down to whisper to her. ‘Feyre darling.’

‘Enough!’ Rhys shot up, hands on the table.

You barley spared him a glance as you and Nesta went about your way. You tripped on a plant pot, stumbling and apologizing to the object.

Azriel got out his seat, ready to follow you to wherever. No matter if you wanted him or not.

‘Sit down, Azriel,’ said Rhysand, taking his seat again. He picked up his fork and smiled at his mate like nothing had happened. All the while, your scent got further away from him.

He looked between where you’d disappeared and his high lord. He settled down and promised he’d find out what had made you act so.

☽｡⋆

You woke with unbearable pain in your head the next day. And your back. Your head was granted with the amount you and Nesta had drank, seeking to out-do one another so much so you drank out most of Rita’s.

But your back, the pain was new. Almost as if it knew why you were so angry, so bitter and it sort to make it worse.

Your curtains were drawn but the wind blew them back, letting you glimpse the outside world you dreaded to be a part of.

Shadows curled up your bed, brushing your hair back affectionately. They seemed to always be around you, as if they knew the bond that heaved in your chest even if their master didn’t.

You offered them a poor smile. ‘I’m fine.’ But they caressed you and smelt your lie.

From beyond the curtains, you caught a glimpse of figures in the sky. You’d always loved your room for the view it granted, of the sun, the moon, the stars. But after losing your wings, the view turned cold and the sky never seemed as bright.

It only got worse.

Though you knew the pain it would bring you to see, you wrapped a blanket around you and treaded over to the window.

Feyre was trying out her new wings, the black gifts she’d been given. Once mortal, she now had everything you wanted. The power, the wings. Your freedom was now hers.

And you hated it.

Azriel was looking close to her, encouraging her as she went. Though they were small figures to you, you could see his smile, how he held his hands out to her should she lose confidence.

How many times had you flown side by side, acting like the clouds abided you. The times you’d raced or dropped just to have Azriel catch you.

Never again.

The bitterness invaded your mouth again, blocking out all other logical senses.

Your door burst open- the shadows rushing to your side and curling around your shoulders. You didn’t need to turn to know who it was, the anger radiating from him was enough.

‘How dare you turn up in the state you did last night,’ snapped Rhys. You didn’t turn to face him, shielding yourself from his fury. ‘You had no right to ruin a lovely evening. We are trying to make Feyre and her sisters feel welcomed, its a shame my own sister can’t seem to do that for me.’

The words twisted in your gut. For him… had you not done everything for him? Lost your wings because you wouldn’t give in? Lost fifty years of your life to be with him?

‘Get over whatever it is going on and only return to us when you want to act like a decent human being.’ Rhysand snapped before leaving again, slamming the door- causing her to flinch.

The shadows ran down your hair, your cheeks, your sides. Giving you any ghostly comfort they could. ‘I’m fine,’ you told them again, retreating further into your room.

The shadows followed you, but only half of them. The other half had returned to their master, clouding him and whispering in his ear.

Her wings. She misses her wings.

She hadn’t had to say it out loud, they knew her pain.

Azriel paused in the sky, alerting Feyre. She’d seen the shadows surround him in flourishes. She couldn’t understand they were reporting in on you, that Az needed you to have something there when he could not be.

‘What is it?’ She asked, beating her wings.

He stared at her then at the wings. He was filled with the longing to be with you, in the sky, playing. Your wings were beautiful, just because they were you. A beautiful part of you.

‘I need to speak with the high lord.’

☽｡⋆

‘Ask someone else to train Feyre to fly,’ said Azriel.

He’d insisted he needed to see the high lord on urgent matters that could not wait. He’d expected it to be of the war, but Azriel opened with the line.

Rhysand was sat behind his desk, looking up to Azriel with some amusement. ‘I’m sorry?’

‘Ask Cassian,’ he said, he didn’t need to repeat himself.

‘Feyre wanted you.’

‘I can’t do it anymore,’ he said, stating it all simply.

Rhysand waited, wondering if he’d be graced with an explanation, but it never came. ���Might I ask why.’

‘Your sister.’

Rhys’s amusement turned to a deep scowl. ‘My sister has asked you to stop flying with Feyre?’

‘No. She hasn’t asked, she never would. But I can’t teach Feyre to fly anymore.’

‘I’m sorry, I’m confused- what does any of this have to do with y/n?’ He asked.

Azriels shadows wound tight around him, coating him like a second skin. He wanted to yell, and he never let his emotions get the better of him. Instead, he curled his hand into a fist and clenched his jaw. ‘Do you really not think that this is hurting her?’

‘After her behaviour the past couple days I think it’s her who’s doing the hurting,’ he said, picking a bit of invisible lint from his shoulder.

‘She lost her wings,’ said Azriel with barely contained annoyance. ‘She lost them. They were cut from her back and she was left to bleed out.’

‘I do remember that Azriel,’ said Rhys, closing his eyes at the words. ‘I was there when we found her.’

‘So do you not think that teaching your mate to fly doesn’t effect her?’

Rhysand looked at him. His eyes changed, the hue turning darker. No, he hadn’t thought that. You’d never let on to feeling anything for your wings or lack of them. But then again, even if you had, would you ever have gone to your brother.

Azriel took a measured step forward. ‘Do you not think it hurts her that you teach your mate to fly, the same mate that gasped in horror when she saw the scars on your sisters back? That you have us fly in front of the house where she can see? Did you even know that when she bathes y/n covers all the mirrors so she doesn’t have to get a glance at the scars.’

The high lord held up a hand. ‘I understand.’

‘No, you don’t. You could never know what it’s like, neither could I, or Cassian. She had a part of her ripped off and she has to live without it every day. But you’ve gifted Feyre them as if it’s nothing.’

‘Because my mate has the powers,’ argued Rhys. ‘If I could give y/n wings I would- in a heartbeat, I would.’

Azriel nodded. He knew that, he knew the relationship between you and Rhys was fractured at best, but he also knew that if anything or anyone hurt you, Az would kill them. ‘I don’t want to reach Feyre to fly because it hurts y/n.’

Rhys leaned back in his chair, studying him. ‘And you care about her?’

‘More than I can express.’ He would give her the wings from his back if he could. ‘And if something hurts her… it hurts me.’

Rhysand nodded. ‘I’ll take her flying from now on. We’ll do it in the mountains, to spare y/n from seeing it.’

Azriel bowed his head. ‘Thank you.’

Rhys nodded but averted his gaze. ‘Look after her, Azriel.’

‘I always have.’

☽｡⋆

Nesta had gone to Rita's, expecting you later but you'd already snuck down to the Wine cellar and picked out the finest to drown your sorrows alone in. You'd past Cassian on the way, the male worried about your shifting gaze and the way you held yourself but you brushed him off and carried on your way.

You hesitated outside your door, where shadows lurked. Yes, they liked you and yes they were often with you, but never guarding your door.

Then, you smelt it. Not wine but sweet cedar and moss. Az.

You didn't want this. Didn't want him to see you like this, in pain in your mind and back, in longing for the wind through your hair. You knew he'd noticed your behaviour, he was the spy master, you'd only hoped... only hoped he didn't care as much as he did.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed open the door and braced yourself for shouting.

Azriel stood there, looking regal and beautiful. His back was too the balcony, the door open and wind rusting his wings and sheets. His hands were behind his back and his gaze was... soft? It wasn't dark with anger or clouded in annoyance.

It was just Az.

'Azriel,' you do your best to smile, clearing your throat. 'What are you doing? I thought you had flying with Feyre?' you were trying but you were also just you and you missed your wings.

'I'm teaching her anymore,' he said.

You chuckle. 'Is she that bad a student?'

'I'm sorry.'

You look up to him, taking out the cork of the wine. Rose filled your senses. 'For what?'

'That she flys when you don't,' he mentioned it simply, as if you'd already told him what was hurting you and he'd accepted it.

You hadn't said it. You wouldn't. You hated yourself enough for being weak, you didn't need him, perfect Azriel, caring Azriel, to see how horrid your jealousy had made you. 'I don't know what you mean.'

'y/n,' he steps close to you, taking the bottle from you. He drops it at his side but no smash is delivered. The shadows swallow it up. 'Why won't you talk, instead of drowning yourself in pain?'

'I'm not drowning myself in anything,' you deny, moving away from him to close the balcony door. The air drifting in and moving everything but you only mocked.

'You can't fly,' he said.

Your eyes squeezed shut in pain. 'Yes, I know, you don't have to remind me.'

His boots sounded close behind her and he took her shoulders. He didn't force her to turn around, he only held her gently and soothed his thumbs over the knots in her back. 'You can't fly and words don't exist to tell you how sorry I am. If I could i'd give you the own wings off me back-'

'Don't say that.' The only thing worse than your pain, was Azriel going through it all.

'I would and I mean it just to see you smile again, if only for a second. I'd be glad to give them up,' he whispered. Your shoulders slumped under his grasp and he sighed in relief, it was better than tensing up again. 'I miss you smiling. I miss you laughing. I miss you smiling at me. I'm sorry if teaching Feyre to fly has hurt you.'

'It wasn't you, Az,' you turn in his hold, never letting him feel like it was his fault. In doing that, you admitted to being bothered. 'I can't be who I was, because I don't know how. And I don't want to try to only fail.'

He listened, hands trailing down your arms to rub.

You gulp. 'And it's not just losing the wings, it's everything I lost with it. Freedom. I can't join you or Cas, or anyone when you take to the skies. How am I going to cope in battle? I can't run as fast as I can fly, I can't fight as well. I can't hit Cassian over the head when he's being an idiot, I can't-I can't wrap them around you when we hold each other, and it's painful to think of everything I've lost when I've gained nothing.'

He listened, tears watering his gaze. You had not lost any of that, not to him.

'And Feyre,' you pulled away, crossing your arms around each other and looking out the window. 'I don't hate her, I wish I could but I can't. But she's been Fae for five seconds and she has everything I've ever wanted. Wings. My brother loves her. She's happy. I hate it and I hate myself.'

Your confession weighed your gut but your chest rose in a deep breath. You couldn't see Azriel behind you in the reflection of the windows and you couldn't hear him.

He'd gone. Of course he'd left, you'd whined about what you'd lost when you were at least alive. You'd complained about the High Lady- treason in Rhysand's book.

No, you were all alone.

But you weren't.

Az crept behind you and slowly- so you could pull away- wrapped his arms around your shoulders. He pulled you into his chest and matched his breaths with yours. 'I won't insult you by saying I get it, because I could never. But that time, when I found you after you'd lost your wings, I thought i'd lost you and that-that is how I imagine your feelings. Because I stopped breathing and I didn't think happiness would ever be in the world again. And your blood, you bleeding out has been in my nightmares since. If my hands were to be stained with it, let them, because it was the last thing i'd ever have of you.'

You had no idea. He'd felt terrible yes and been there the weeks and months it took to heal but you'd been so full of pain and guilt you hadn't thought of how he fared. Your greatest friend... your lustful secret.

Your hands came up to hold his arms.

'You do not have to be who you were before,' he whispered, head resting on your shoulder. 'Become better. Become something more. As for training, you're the strongest woman I know and still the only person I'd trust with my life.'

A tear escaped you.

He nudged your chin with his nose. 'And you can still hit Cass as much as you like.'

You laugh through tears, holding onto Az like he was the last thing anchoring you to yourself.

His wings slowly inched over you. 'And I will hold you all day, every day till I die, and i'll keep you safe.' His wings closed around the two of you as yours used to do.

Neither of you realised how much you'd missed it, needed it, craved it until it happened.

You'd lost your wings, but you had never and would never lose him.

[echo-exco]

❝DOCTOR I CAN’T TELL IF I’M NOT ME.❞

-   ͙۪۪̥˚┊BATFAM X NEGLECTED!HEALER!READER ꒱ ˎˊ˗ 

There is only one thing you ever truly wished for in this life: a purpose.

Something that would justify your existence, that would give meaning to every breath, every wound, every sleepless night.

And you found it. Not in an empty promise or in the affection of others. You found it in your own power.

A selfish desire, yes, but undeniably yours. A purpose born not out of love, but out of need.

From that strange power growing inside you, the one that forced you to look at others’ suffering with cold, almost cynical eyes. As if every wound were a problem only you could solve. As if every scream of pain were a prayer meant solely for you.

You clung to that.

To the idea that your worth existed only in your abilities.

The ability to stop someone from dying in front of you. To rip death from their body with your own hands. To stitch broken flesh with threads that hurt, yes, but worked. That was the only thing that ever made you feel alive. The only thing that ever made you feel alive, needed.

For a while, it was enough.

For a long while, you were selfish.

It didn’t matter if they used you. It didn’t matter if it hurt. If every healing left another scar on you. If every salvation cost you a little more of the little you had left.

As long as you could keep doing it—healing, fixing, protecting— the price didn’t matter.

Because at the end of the day, you could lie down on that mattress of emptiness and tell yourself: “Today, I made it worth it.”

Your existence and your power meant something.

Of course, you didn’t have a mother to share secrets with, nor guardians who offered you love. Only faces that came and went, and the bitter understanding that you were just another burden in a broken system.

Until, by some twisted stroke of fate, you had the “pleasure” of meeting your biological father.

Bruce Wayne.

Billionaire. Philanthropist. Playboy.

Batman.

Even so, none of that really mattered to you. What truly hit you was learning that you had to leave everything behind and go to Gotham.

That cursed city, that concrete jungle drowned in darkness and crime. Where dreams go to die and bodies, if they’re lucky, go to sleep.

Gotham wasn’t a home. It was a prison for someone like you.

A place where meta-humans like you were enemies, threats, problems to be contained.

Your power, your only purpose, was stripped away with nothing more than a change of zip code.

And that was the cruelest part of all.

Not being able to use it.

Not being able to save.

Not being able to be useful.

Your existence, reduced to ashes, like the bodies of those you didn’t reach in time.

It must be poetic, right? The healer who cannot heal. The savior without faith.

They hate you. You've felt it. That visceral resentment from those who survived because of you, but still blame you for what you couldn’t stop. Screams, stares, choked pleas— all of them pierced your soul deeper than any weapon ever could.

For someone who once swore to save lives, it’s only natural that those you vowed and wanted to save now express their utter disgust and despair toward the false, horrific salvation you once offered them.

And now? Now you live among strangers.

An immense mansion full of absences. With brothers who seemingly don’t recognize you, and a father who doesn’t see you.

Your arrival in Gotham wasn’t exactly ideal, at least, that’s how you think you remember it.

It’s hard for you to remember that moment. You don’t hold on to unnecessary memories… none of it will make you feel alive again.

Apparently, your new father figure has several children. Some of them are already adults. With lives of their own far from the mansion, you don’t know much about them, they were almost always too busy to say anything to you.

You can’t understand them, can’t they come up with better excuses? You don’t want these people’s attention.

These people can’t help you with your abilities. They can’t make you believe you’re still allowed to use them freely.

No, these people are just strangers who stumbled into your life overnight and want nothing to do with the problem. Not even your new father had the decency or responsibility to try forming a bond with you.

Bruce Wayne was an absent father. Not in the way someone leaves and disappears completely, but in the kind of absence that feels stronger the closer the person is. A hollow physical presence, like a ghost made of flesh and bone. One who could look you in the eyes and still not see you.

He struggled to communicate, to make time for you, to even remember that there was now one more occupied room in that massive mansion of his.

He doesn’t know how to deal with you, and you don’t know how to deal with him either. At first, you wondered if the problem was you. If you had done something wrong. If the way you talked, walked—even breathed, was so bothersome that he’d rather bury himself in work than give you an hour of his time.

But soon, you realized something even crueler: You don’t need a father. You’re not looking for one. You’re not waiting for one.

What you need is a patient. Someone you can heal. Someone who needs you.

Because that’s what you’ve always done. Heal. And Bruce… Bruce simply refuses to be healed.

But he doesn’t understand.

When you approach him, when you seek him out, when you try to speak to him, all he does is throw up a wall made of cold words, as practical and impersonal as that damn business suit of his.

“I’m busy.”

“Not now.”

“We’ll talk later.”

“It’s for work.”

Always the same. Always excuses with the bitter taste of indifference.

Is this what having a father is supposed to feel like? Because if it is, then it doesn’t feel any different from your days in foster care.

At least there, you knew you were alone. Here, they make you believe you’re not… but you are, more than ever.

You’ve learned to observe the details, as always. It’s one of the few things you’re good at, aside from using your power.

You notice the tired look in his eyes, the dark circles underneath, the way his fingers tense around his pen like he’s trying to crush it. The stack of papers on his desk never gets smaller, it’s like it multiplies just to keep you at a distance.

And the subtle changes… that lower tone in his voice when he sees you, like he can’t even be bothered to raise it for you. The way his eyebrows furrow, not out of anger, just… annoyance. Irritation.

That’s what hurt the most.

So you stopped trying. Because if you kept going, you were only going to be reprimanded by the one you were supposed to please. You convinced yourself that you don’t need his approval. That you don’t need his love. That you’re better off without him.

But then, why is it that every time you walk past his office, you pause for a second, hoping that door opens, just once, without you knocking first?

Why do you still need him to see you?

Richard Grayson is the eldest. The first adopted son of Bruce Wayne. Everyone sees him as a beacon of hope, the moral compass of this family made of shadows and scars. And it makes sense. He has that bright smile, that genuine warmth the others can barely fake. He gives out hugs without being asked, listens patiently, laughs easily, and has that absurd gift of making anyone feel seen, at least, if you’re one of his.

Because with you, it was always different.

From the beginning, Richard seemed kind. Seemed. But between that warmth and you, there was always a distance, like someone had drawn a curtain between the two of you. You heard his apologies more than you heard his actual voice.

“Sorry, I have to head out right now.”

“Sorry, I was already on my way to Blüdhaven.”

“Next time, I promise.”

He was always rushing. Always busy. Always somewhere else. And you… you’re not someone who believes in empty promises.

At first, you thought it was just bad luck. That maybe if you insisted a little, if you found an excuse, if you caught him in the kitchen, he might stay for five minutes. Just five. But those minutes never came. And you started to notice a pattern. How his demeanor shifted the moment you walked into the room. How his smile became more diplomatic. More rehearsed. How his footsteps sped up when he thought you weren’t watching.

You didn’t want to admit it at first, but something inside you began to whisper an uncomfortable truth; He was avoiding you.

And then you understood. If Richard Grayson, the kindest, the most human, the most "big brother" of them all, couldn’t be around you, then what was the point of trying with the others? What could you possibly expect from Jason, who barely speaks to you? From Tim, who seems more invested in his computer than in actual people? From Damian, who can barely tolerate his own shadow?

So you did the same.

You avoided them. One by one.

You decided it wasn’t worth it. That if you weren’t going to be a real part of this family, you weren’t going to pretend.

It’s easier that way. It doesn’t hurt as much if you’re the one walking away first.

But sometimes, when you see them laughing together from the staircase, or hear Richard speaking so fondly of the others, a part of you wonders if it was ever really your choice to walk away, or if they’d been leaving you behind from the very beginning.

Your suspicions didn’t take long to confirm. All it took was talking to a few of your supposed brothers to realize the pattern repeated itself.

Jason, Tim, Damian…

Each one was a story unto themselves. Each one was a maze of traumas, masks, and poorly calibrated emotional responses. But if you had to describe them in one word, it would be: inaccessible.

The second of your brothers was Jason, and from what little you could gather, because no one seemed eager to talk about it much, Jason had died. And then he came back. It wasn’t a metaphor. It wasn’t an exaggeration. He had been buried, and now he was not. That simple statement was enough to provoke a morbid curiosity, almost scientific. What had changed in his body? Did he suffer from partial necrosis? Brain damage? Did his muscles regenerate? What residual effects did resurrection have on human physiology? Everything in you screamed to investigate. To dissect. To understand.

It was a dangerous thought. You knew that. You repeated it to yourself like a mantra: too tempting for your own good.

But what confused you the most wasn’t his condition, it was his behavior toward you. Jason had this aura of latent violence, like dynamite that could explode with the wrong spark. But that wasn’t what kept you away. Not entirely. It was his inexplicable rejection.

You didn’t understand it. You didn’t provoke him. You didn’t talk to him, you didn’t interfere, you didn’t cross the line. And yet, his gaze was always sharp. As if your mere presence triggered something in him. Irritation. Annoyance. Maybe even disdain.

You wondered if it was your fault. If the way you were, the way you spoke, the way you were, simply bothered him. But you couldn’t find an answer. And though you wanted to, you knew that getting closer would be too risky.

Because you’ve seen the broken walls. The misaligned doors. The tables split in two like they were made of paper. You’ve felt the tension in the air when Jason enters a room and isn’t in the mood. And you know, without needing confirmation, that his punches aren’t soft. That his rage doesn’t distinguish between the guilty and the witnesses.

So, you avoid him.

Not out of fear exactly, but out of caution. Self-preservation. You don’t want to be the next crack in the walls of this house.

Tim was a different kind of strange. More than Jason, though in a completely different way. His oddity didn’t stem from aggression or visible trauma. It was more subtle. More internal.

Almost clinical.

You observed him, like you observe everything. With that gaze of yours that searches for patterns, inconsistencies, vulnerabilities. And in him, you found many.

Surprisingly, Tim was brilliant. Not just "smart for his age," but one of those cases where the brain moves faster than the body. Too fast. So much so, that sometimes it seemed like his body gave up halfway through.

The dark circles under his eyes were a constant. His responses were slow, as if they had to pass through a filter of a thousand thoughts before being verbalized. He walked like his mind was too heavy for his spine to carry. A shadow carrying ideas. You were surprised he hadn’t fainted yet from the combination of insomnia, chronic stress, and mild malnutrition.

No one asked you.

No one thanked you.

But still, you started leaving him food. Food that could sustain him without causing a stomach collapse. Nothing too obvious, of course. A yogurt here. Cut fruits there.

Something easy to eat between keystrokes. You allied yourself with Alfred in that small act of silent intervention. The old butler seemed to notice, but he never mentioned it. And you never confirmed it.

Tim would probably assume it was all Alfred’s doing. In fact, you counted on it.

Not because you wanted to keep it a secret. But because you knew that if he suspected you were behind something so... "thoughtful," it would only make him uncomfortable. He doesn’t know how to respond to care, to the intention behind such detail. Tim doesn’t know how to handle it if that sincere gesture comes from you.

Just like you would if any of them ever tried it with you.

Alfred... Alfred is a different matter.

Of all the people in the house, he’s the only one who acts like your existence isn’t a miscalculation. But he doesn’t fool himself. He doesn’t offer you love, or tenderness. He offers you structure. Routine. Measured phrases and cups of tea.

It’s not affection between you.

It’s a sort of tacit alliance.

Two functional people in the middle of a broken ecosystem.

You know he tries. But you also know it’s not enough for you.

You’ve seen children like you. In hospitals. In refugee camps. In temporary homes. Children who cling to an adult figure as if their life depended on it, and are then destroyed when that figure leaves. Or worse, when they stay but stop looking.

You don’t want that for yourself.

You convince yourself this is better. A working relationship. A dynamic where each one fulfills their role and no one crosses the line into the personal. Because if you get attached, if you let yourself believe this could mean something...

You know how that ends. They can’t give you what you’re looking for.

They can’t give you purpose.

They can’t return what was taken from you when you understood that your value only exists if you can heal, if you can serve, if you can be useful.

You still don’t know who you are when you’re none of that.

Back to the subject of your "family," the last on the list of who your siblings were, was Damian.

The youngest of the group. The second biological son of Bruce Wayne.

You said it out loud once, casually: "Ah, so he is the real one."

No one found it funny.

Unlike the others, Damian didn’t need time to show you that you weren’t welcome. He didn’t bother to fake courtesy or neutrality. From the beginning, he made it clear that your existence was expendable.

Maybe it was your silence. Maybe it was your lack of reaction to his provocations. Maybe he just didn’t like you. But he pointed his katana at you the first month you arrived.

The blade against your neck wasn’t a metaphor. It was real, cold, intimidating contact. You felt a thread of power activate instinctively in your body, a reflex of defense, of desperation. If you had let it go, well, you wouldn’t be here, mentally recalling this account.

You didn’t. Not for him. For you.

Because it wasn’t worth it. Because using your power on someone in your “family” would mean admitting they were important enough to hurt you.

They weren’t. Not yet.

You can’t risk being discovered. No one can know that you actually have this power. None of them can know.

Bruce appeared just in time to prevent the confrontation from escalating. Did he protect you? Not exactly. He simply said something like, “Damian has a complicated history,” as if that justified a death threat in the family kitchen.

Is it common in Gotham to justify a child’s homicidal impulses if they've had a difficult childhood?

That was your question. You didn’t ask it out loud. No one would have liked the answer.

It was also that day you found out that Damian was Bruce’s biological son. And you couldn’t help but think about the irony of it all.

The same Bruce Wayne who, in the public eye, was a scandalous figure, a charming, charismatic playboy billionaire with endless parties, had exactly one biological child. One. Not five. Not a legion of illegitimate children scattered across the world. Just one.

That kid turned out to be a ticking time bomb with a traditional sword.

Everything fit so perfectly wrong that it almost seemed planned.

With the girls, it's complicated. Maybe even more so because, deep down, a part of you thought they could be different.

Stephanie. She was like a female version of Richard, a constant smile, a vibrant energy that everyone seemed to adore, except you.

She greeted you with empty enthusiasm, one that never went beyond the surface. It was easy to see that behind her good mood, there was a locked door she wasn’t going to open for you.

And you understood. Because you'd seen it before.

People who act as if everyone is welcome, except you.

Stephanie was just another confirmation that no matter how hard you tried to fit in, this home was already full. You weren’t in the original plan. You never were.

Barbara, on the other hand, was simpler. She was hardly ever at the mansion. You’d see her sporadically, a red ghost in the shadows of fleeting visits. And still, in that limited time, she always found a way to smile at others, share a joke, a quick conversation, a knowing glance… Never with you.

Not once.

It was as if your presence went by unnoticed, not even worth including out of courtesy.

Cassandra was the most honest, in a way. She didn’t pretend. She didn’t smile. She didn’t speak.

She ignored your attempts to help with almost admirable efficiency. You could attribute it to her trauma, her history, her way of seeing the world… but that excuse starts to wear thin when it’s the only one left to justify everything.

Maybe you’re just not interesting. Maybe you don’t even stand out enough to be actively rejected.

Or is it because you don’t even deserve her attention?

It was easier to believe that they all had a reason not to see you.

Easier than admitting that maybe, you weren’t that hard to ignore.

What was dangerous about this family wasn’t the weapons, nor the katanas, nor the fists that had broken ribs more than once.

It was the mask.

It took you time to understand it. First, it was a hunch. Then a suspicion. Finally, a certainty: they were all vigilantes. Heroes of Gotham. The same ones who make your hands tremble when you try to use your power. The ones who make your gift feel useless. As if it were a mistake rather than a blessing.

The irony is so perfect it could almost make you laugh.

You can’t feel useful, can’t do the one thing you know how to do perfectly, because you’re surrounded by those who fight so that people and beings like you are neither necessary nor welcome.

And yet, you prefer them this way.

Cold. Distant. Detached. Unknown. Because connections are dangerous. Because memories weigh. Because at some point, someone taught you that affection is the hook that precedes the pain.

Because you know it better than anyone. When you get attached to someone, it’s not just pain that you feel when you lose them. It’s as if a part of you dies too. Not because you lose them, but because without your power, without that “usefulness,” you feel like you never deserved to have them in the first place.

In Gotham, you can’t do anything.

You can't heal.

You can't save.

You can't be useful.

You can't be loved. Or at least, that’s what they taught you to believe.

Here, you have no parts left that you can afford to lose. Not while you're trapped in this city that doesn’t need what you can give. A family that doesn't know what to do with you. You don’t know what to do with yourself either.

They can’t give you a purpose.

They never could.

They didn’t even try.

You expected so little, that not even that surprised you.

Until you found him.

The only living person who not only recognized your power, but accepted it for what you wanted it to be:

A miracle.

He called himself Doctor Masashi. A kind voice, a serene figure. But behind that calmness was surgical precision. He knew exactly how to shape you. How to rebuild you, only to destroy you again with elegance.

He was the only one who never lied to you about what you were:

A weapon.

A tool.

A precious jewel that only shines when it bleeds for others.

A perfect puppet.

And you, grateful for the strings.

He gave you direction when all you had was guilt.

He gave you structure when all you had was emptiness.

He gave you… meaning. A cruel meaning. A conditioned meaning. But still, you took it.

It can't be that bad, right?

Clinging to that.

Clinging to him.

Clinging to something that tells you that you can still be "something."

Because if someone, even just one person, can look at you and say that you are good for something, then you're not broken.

Then you're not alone. Then everything that hurt was worth it.

Even if guilt drowns you every night.

Even if the nightmares never rest.

Even if the hands you tried to save still drag you from their graves, begging for a second death.

It doesn't matter. As long as someone believes that keeping you alive makes sense... then that’s enough.

Right?

Maybe you're a weapon.

Maybe you're selfish.

Maybe you did it all just out of fear of disappearing, for that unbearable need to feel alive.

The need to feel that you matter. To have a place to fit in.

But at least you're something. In this shattered world, that's already more than many have.

But how much more can you take before you truly break? How much longer before you completely crumble, like so many times you did on the inside? How much will the price of his greed cost… and your desperate desire to remain useful?

Because in the end, it wasn't Bruce.

Nor your brothers.

Nor your sisters.

None of them ever knew who you were.

None of them understood.

Only him. Only Masashi.

That’s what scares you the most. Because if even he can make you believe that’s all you’re worth. If even he manages to make you cling to that idea, then maybe, you were never more than that.

Maybe you were never more than your power, and in Gotham, where you can no longer use it...

Not even that belongs to you.

[samsmissingshoee]

ANGEL — SAM WINCHESTER.

SUMMARY — sam starts to grow fond of an angel. they have grown more comfortable around each other, and tensions run high when dean leaves for a bar.

WARNINGS — no plot all porn... 18+, softdom!sam, unprotected sex, p in v, oral, f!receiving, unexperienced!reader, angel!reader, LOTS of praise, biting, creampie, mentions of religion, sam's a sweetheart. he's also a freak.

WC — 4.3k. i got carried away.

A/N — i feel like i'm going to hell just from the warnings alone. i erm. i don't even know. shout out the two people who asked to get tagged in this 🙏 first ever smut fic, if you hate i'll probably delete my account. i am not editing 4.3k words btw. i'm lazy.

angels weren't supposed to enjoy the feeling of a human. that much was well known.

and when you came from heaven to assist castiel in whatever the hell it was that he was doing, that was repeated to you over and over again. these 'humans', they weren't important. your only job was to make sure sam winchester didn't get hurt. that was all this was supposed to be. a casual round of protecting the winchesters.

you didn't understand human norms, and at first, sam didn't like you. you didn't take personally, of course, because, well, sam hated any angel at first. castiel quickly explained to you about the brother's and how you'd be spending more time with them while he awaited directions. honestly, you couldn't care less about either of the brothers, too. they were hunters, and you were an angel. you weren't supposed to mix anyway.

sam winchester was more interesting than his older and shorter brother, though. sam was thoughtful and a lot more curious about you than he let on at first. as you spent more time 'watching' over him, you realized he enjoyed asking you questions about heaven, and the angels, and about castiel. and you tried to answer them to the best of your ability.

sam was more open to learning about you than dean, and he was more considerate when it came to teaching you knew things. slowly, he started defending you against dean's antics, and he learned about how curious you were, too.

he spent many late nights awake with you, struggling with his insomnia. you made it much more enjoyable. on the off chance that he did get some sleep, he'd wake up to you in the bunker, lounging and reading one of his books. as soon as you saw him awake, you'd pounce on him, eager to talk all about it.

sam found you endearing in the same way you found him intriguing. you both taught each other different things. he taught you about different emotions and how to communicate them to him. he showed you his favorite movies. he told you about his time in standford and about how he was studying law. you taught him about the bible, about praying and how you'd always come if he prayed for you. you taught him about heaven and hell, and angels and everything in between.

eventually, you two become friends, as much as younger sam would have hated to admit that. he showed you what friendship was and what it was like to worry about someone more than yourself. he explained to you what love was and about heartbreak. sam watched as you turned from this unemotional, blunt angel into a person, crafted by the things you loved.

you two kissed about six months after hunting with him. you were unexerienced, and painfully so, and your first kiss was nothing but giggles and awkward stares. the second, third, and fourth ones weren't any better. sam was ridiculously dotting and patient, and even though you were an angel and didn't understand what a relationship was, you still tried for him, and he loved you for it.

after a week of sneaky kisses and rushing into each other's rooms once dean fell asleep, you seemed to have gotten the hang of it. you and sam hadn't done anything remotely sexual other than a few hands-under-the-bra's and one /bad/ attempt at a handjob. sam was enthralled in watching you become more confident and learning how to touch him the way that he liked and how to kiss him properly. so he didn't mind taking things slow.

you two agreed to not have sex yet, partially because to you, it was a sin, and partially because you didn't know what you were doing. sam had no issue waiting. that was, until tonight.

you don't even remember how this happened, honestly — the lingering touches became more frequent, more needy, and at some point, sam had slipped you out of your shirt and bra. you'd barely even made it to his room /thank god for dean being out at a bar tonight/, before he was kissing you, his lips hiding something more intense tonight.

you wouldn't have protested anyways, but as soon as your shirt was gone, sam was all over you.

"i know it feels dirty, honey. but it's not. i wouldn't lie to you." sam hums against your throat, kissing the soft skin. when he talks like that, all low and soothing, you might just believe anything he says. he pulls back to look at your concerned expression, and his smile softens.

his movement stills, and you frown, almost wishing sam would convince you to do more. that feeling in your stomach, the one that felt close to nausea, started to feel nice. and you craved more of it. you craved more of sam.

although his desire outweighed his guilt for ruining the purity of an angel like this, sam still sat up for a moment, his hazel eyes practically begging you. he was nothing, if not a gentleman. "do you want this?" sam asks, hushed and spoken like a prayer, and you think you might get sent to hell just from how he's looking at you.

sam's hair is a ruffled mess, and his long sleeve black shirt was rolled up to his elbows. his carhartt jacket had long been discarded by you, tossed somewhere into the dark abyss that was the dingy, horribly lit motel room. he looks beautiful.

"i do, sammy, but—" you breathe out shakily. before you can finish answering, his hands are on your hips, tugging you closer to him. you're both standing up, his large hands moving up your skirt to trail up your sides. sam can feel your back arch against his hands slightly, and it's taking everything in him to not lose his resolve.

san, who previously said he was okay with waiting, felt like a selfish man tonight. he could honestly care less about your innocence right now. what he did care about was you, though. sam knew that if you wanted him to continue, he wouldn't be able to stop.

"but what?" sam mumbled, his fingertips digging against your hips. his erection was pressed dangerously against your thigh. he shifted you until you were pressed against him — he knew what he was doing and the effect it was having on you. you didn't answer and could only grumble a complaint out.

"just needa taste you, honey. we don't have to go all the way if you don't want to." sam's words are a contradiction to how he was staring at you. "although, i have thought about doing more." he hums, and he has a slight shit eating grin on his face. it's sort of surprising that this is your sweet sammy.

you're conflicted— this is wrong. sinful. but there was a bubbling heat in your stomach, and you wanted nothing more than to make sam feel good. maybe a part of being human was indulging in your sins. you pout at him slightly, and sam has to stop himself from moving his hips up against you. he doesn't just want this, he needs this. he needs to corrupt you, to ruin your innocence until all you can think about is him.

"fine. be gentle, though, sam. i mean it." you relent, although you didn't need much convincing. honestly, if he tried to pull off of you, you'd be the one begging him to touch you and not the other way around.

"oh, fuck—" sam groans, and he almost instantly falls to his knees. his hands are tugging off your jeans faster than you can process. "you don't know how long i've wanted this." his tone makes you feel dirty, and you can't help when your brows crumple into a slight glare. you didn't know what he was doing, but you wanted him to hurry it up.

you help him kick your jeans off around your ankles and step out of them. you're left in your cotton panties, and for some reason, it turns sam on more to know you weren't planning for this. honestly, neither was he.

"leave these on." two fingers slip underneath the elastic by your thigh, tugging them and letting them go, the fabric snapping against your skin. the action makes you suck in a breath. sam's lips make their way to your upper thighs, sucking and kissing at the sensitive skin. it's not enough, and he knows that. he's driving you crazy on purpose to see you squirm for him.

"sam—" you chastise, like a scold, your hand running through his hair and tugging on it gently, trying to bring your hips closer to him. sam fucking moans. he moans at getting his hair pulled, and it makes your brows crease in bewilderment. /you would definitely be keeping that in mind./

sam looks up at you with those same puppydog eyes, and you swear you're going to burst into literal flames and have your wings removed instantly. "needa taste my girl's pussy. y'gonna let me?" sam says softly, his voice muffled by your thigh, gently biting on a spot. when you whimper, he pulls back to kiss at the forming bruise, his hands massaging at the fat of your ass.

truth be told, you'd probably let him fold into a pretzel at this point, but you didn't want to stroke his massive ego.

the noise you make is answer enough, and sam deftly pulls your panties to the side. his hand brings yours to hold them. he needs *both* hands for devouring you. sam's two middle fingers move to collect your slick from your folds, and you shiver. his brows raise, and he smiles again. "you're soaked, baby. you really want me that bad?" he asks, and you're nodding quickly.

sam can't hold back when you look this pretty above him. you can feel his breath against you. even just looking at you bare in front of him is enough to make him want to cum in his fucking jeans.

he flattens his tongue against you, and your hips stutter against his mouth. you've never felt anything like this before. you can feel sam's grin against your cunt, his hands cupping into your ass and pulling your hips further into his mouth.

seeing such a large man, especially one like sam, at his knees, lapping at your pussy like a fucking starved man— it makes your head fuzzy.

without warning, his middle finger slips into you. your hands move to his hair to steady yourself, massaging at the brown strands, pushing some from off his sticky forehead. the concentration on his face is almost cute, but it soon becomes too hard to keep your eyes open.

another finger slips past your folds, and you're mouthing his name like a prayer. his fingers are rocking into you at a slow speed, but his mouth— it was fucking dirty, the way he'd suck on your clit, only pulling away to breathe. everytime he pulled away, a string of saliva followed, connected between you two. his chin was slick with your arousal, his chest panting with heavy breaths. and then he was right back to devouring you.

maybe sam winchester was the devil.

your hands tug on his hair slightly, and sam groans against you. the heat in your stomach was building and sam was near drunk on your pussy. when he looked up at you with those hazel eyes, you moaned, your thighs tremoring.

"sam— sam, it feels too good... please—" you breathed out, panting too now, and sam didn't relent, no matter how hard you were tugging at his hair. his hand was holding your hip hard not daring to let you squirm away from him. indents of his fingertips would ruin your pretty skin by the morning. you had to shy away from his intense gaze.

sam pulled away, still fucking his fingers into you. "eyes on me, baby." he mumbled, before sinking flush against your clit again. you listened, although your face was an embarrassing hue of pink. sam was just as loud and needy, if not worse than you. everytime your thighs clenched around him, or you tugged on his hair, profanities and groans slipped from his lips. he needed you.

sam kept his tongue latched onto you, his eyes showing that he was as desperate as you were to make you cum. the noises he was making were filth, soft grunts and groans, all muffled by your puffy pussy. when your eyes flickered down, you noticed that one of his hands were palming himself through his jeans.

with every shake and spasm, it was like sam knew you were close. he was using his hands to rock your hips more onto his tongue, your weight practically suffocating him. sam would gladly die a happy man in between your folds, if it meant getting to look up at your beautiful face contorting in pleasure. his chest swells at the fact that he is the one who gets to touch you like this.

that feeling returned as quickly as it left, and soon you were cumming on his face, your legs shaking as he kept his fingers curled into your folds. that was probably the best thing you'd felt since coming to earth. sam pressed a kiss to your overstimulated clit, before kissing up your stomach, your breasts, collarbone, and finally standing to his full height over you.

"how was that?" sam asks, licking the wetness off his fingers. as much as he wanted to ruin you, he also wanted to make sure you were comfortable.

heavy pants still wracked both of your bodies, your thighs aching and barely able to hold your own weight. he had the audacity to ask that after making you feel things you hadn't felt in your centuries alive? in between deep breaths, you shot him a slight glare.

"what do you think?" you tutted, puffing his lips out in that gorgeous pout that made sam was to kiss you stupid, holding onto his biceps so you didn't lose balance.

sam grins in response, his hands moving to your bare hips, pressing you into him. his cock was fucking painfully hard and he had to refrain from rutting against you. "i need to fuck you, honey." fuck sam and his beautiful eyes, pleading at you. his hand leads your to palm him from over his jeans, and he moans softly, so prettily.

you were conflicted. you knew his cock would feel so much better than his fingers, but this was wrong. "sammy—" you say in the same chastising voice that drives him insane.

"please, let me fuck you. need to feel you around my dick. fuck, doesn't even have to be all the way." sam pleads, and you have a hard time saying no to that. he was practically begging you. you sigh at how weak you were for this man. "please fuck me, sam."

sam eyes widen slightly, and he can't help his grin as he pushes you back against the bed. his eyes stay on you as he pulls his shirt off, discarding it across the motel floor along with all of yours. you can't help but stare at him. all tanned, scarred, and bruised, despite being young. it was so different compared to your imperfect skin, free of any blemishes or let alone scars.

sam's tantalizingly slow as he takes off his belt, followed by his jeans. he's fucking huge. that much you can tell by his bulge alone. your eyes widen slightly when he strips his boxers off.

he wanted to take his time with you, to treat you like the goddamn angel you were, to wrack every noise he can from your lips. but, sam was impatient as hell. and he was really, really hard.

"you're beautiful." sam coos, caging you in between his much larger frame. there is a shine in his gaze, so soft and loving, that it almost makes you feel queasy. he's not doing this because he's bored or because he wants to get off. sam's doing this because you're his world.

"you're alright." you respond, not able to hold back the giggle that escaped your lips afterward, especially when you felt sam's annoyed sigh against the crook of your neck. you can feel his irritated grin. sam fell in love with that devilish laugh of yours, and he found it endearing that even during this, he could make you sound like that.

it was such a sharp contrast from how emotionless and... awkward— you first were when you met the winchester brothers. sam has loved watching you adapt this sassy personality, loved eyeing you while you admire new things, hearing the way your voice heightened whenever you laughed, the way you took over parts of his and dean's own quirks and personalities.

"just alright? you wound me, angel."

this time, you rolled your eyes. you turn your head to the side to press your lips against the mole below his right eye. "you're beautiful too, sammy. you already know that." you huff out, your tone unmistakably soft. sam scoffed, nipping at her neck slightly. it was nice to hear that from you, regardless of what he thought about himself.

unfortunately for you, the compliment rushes to sam's head. he sits up slightly, his cock pressed against your lower stomach, a hand brushing over your cheek, moving your fanned hair out of your face. "are you sure you're okay with this? we can stop— i'll put on a movie, and we can forget—"

you interrupt sam's worries by pressing a kiss to his palm. "yes sam, i'm sure. please." and that small act of intimacy followed by your voice pleading for him was enough reassurance for sam. no need to tell him twice.

sam pumps himself a few times, his eyes not once leaving yours. "scoot your hips up for me, honey." you oblige, and you can feel his cock pressed against your clothed entrance. the sight leaves nothing for the imagination and sam sighs as his fingers pulls your panties down to your ankles.

sam looks like he's in fucking heaven, his lips parted and staring at you bare in front of him. his thumb habitually moves to your clit, rubbing soft circles against it just to watch you squirm under him.

"sam, quit being a damn tease." you frown and wiggle your hips into his more. his gaze is making you shy, something you didn't know was even possible as an angel.

"innocent angel, my ass." sam mumbles under his breath, but he obliges, lining up his cock to you. he collects your slick with his tip, dragging the wetness over your already overstimulated clit. sam rubs it against your folds a few times, before pressing only about halfway in. the moan that leaves your lips is heavenly, so much so that sam's head has to fall to your shoulder and bites it softly so he doesn't cum too fast like a damn high schooler.

"you're so fucking tight, shit—" sam groans and it's so dirty coming from him. he's usually so sweet to you, so hearing this is different. and arousing. but different. you'd expect this talk out of dean, not sam.

sam really wished he would've slept around a little more in college now because it was taking far too much concentration to not finish already.

"need to fuck you, baby. please." sam all but whimpers out. all of your beliefs, your nightly prayers, all of it was gone the second you felt him inside of you. you can only nod in response, your hands tugging at his waist to come closer to you.

sam stills, looking at you for a moment like he can't believe you want this. and slowly, he pushes in all the way, and you both share a pornographic moan.

sam is quiet as he lets you adjust to his size. he wasn't one to toot his own horn, but he was pretty big. and even though your vessel wasn't a virgin, mentally, you still were. sam had a mantra of things going through his head — the main ones being: please don't cum, please don't cum, please don't cum. don't say i love you. don't move too fast yet. let her adjust.

sam leans down to kiss your forehead. "good?" he hums.

you nod again. "hurts a little." and sam is nothing but patient, kissing each of your temples before brushing your hair away.

"i promise you're doing so good. it's gonna hurt for a moment. it'll feel better soon. just relax." sam murmured against your shoulder, his lips sighing down towards your collarbone. "gonna move now, sweet girl." calloused palms are pressing your thighs to your chest. he leans down enough so you can hold on to his shoulders if you need.

with one hand still on the back of your leg, and the other one cupping one of your breasts, he pulls out almost all the way before rocking in slowly. your eyes screwing shut from pleasure is enough to test the waters with a more heavy thrust. "that's it, baby. look at you—" sam groans, his fingertips digging into your skin. his eyes were glued to where his cock was entering you rhythmically, and god, he could get addicted to that sight. sam could fucking see where the tip of his cock was pressing into your belly. his palm moved over it, adding slight pressure to your lower pelvis. the feeling made him groan out your name softly. he was just as loud as you were. "so beautiful."

part of you wanted sam to shut up so you could focus on the feeling of your walls fluttering around his cock, but the other half of you enjoyed the flithy words leaving his flushed lips.

"oh, fuck. sammy, 's too much—" you whimpered out, your hand squeezing his biceps. your legs wrapped around his waist to bring him closer, the balls of your heels digging against his ass. sam think he likes that you're not very vocal. it makes every beg, every moan that much more special to him. he was the only one who got to see his angel falling apart like this.

everything about sam is fucking massive, from his height, to his sheer size difference over you. it shouldn't have been shocking that his dick was huge too, but you felt it now. you felt every single inch, stretching you out, your arousal slipping down his shaft. sam's thrusts grew more feverish, his shaggy brown bangs falling into his face as his head fell forward slightly. "i know you can handle it baby." he grunted in response to your plea, hazel eyes fucked out with lust.

that feeling in your lower belly returned, and now, at least, you know what it meant. it was overwhelming, but not enough for you. your hand reached for sam's hand, guiding it to you clit. sam thought that was the hottest thing he'd ever fucking seen, and shuddered slightly. "you wanna cum around my cock? is that it, sweetheart?" sam asks, a small, contemplating smile on his lips.

you're writhing under his cock, your back arching off the bed, his thumb rubbing soft circles around your nub. you tap his bicep in warning of your approaching orgasm, but he doesn't stop. he doesn't slow down either. in fact, he ruts his hips faster. the feeling of you clenching around his dick is enough to send him over the edge, too. he's biting down hard on his cheek to stop himself from cumming before you. he wants, needs to see you cum first, before he can.

your face contorts into pleasure, and you cum hard, sam still fucking you through your orgasm. he groans and his eyes close when he watches you making a mess all over him. "thaaat's it. that's my girl." he encourages, the feeling of your walls clenching around him tipping him over the edge. "fuck. gonna fill you up." he grunts against your shoulder, his hips stuttering slightly and you moan as you feel his cock twitch inside you, before you feel cum spurt into your cunt.

sam pulls out a moment after, his eyes blown out when he watches his spend leak from your pulsating hole. he uses two fingers to spread it around over your folds. once he's satisfied with his handiwork, he slumps down into the bed next to you.

you're still a panting, sighing mess. you feel your legs twitch occasionally, and you're finally coming to your senses. you were just fucked stupid by your best friend. a human.

"jesus, sam. is this really what humans are doing?" you ask, out of genuine curiosity, and sam pinches your side with a slight laugh. he looks spent, almost as bad as you. his head falls to your shoulder, pressing his lips to the soft skin present.

"the lucky ones, yeah." sam huffs in amusement. "you're okay, right? i didn't hurt you, or pressure you or anything?" his voice is a little persistent, worried, already overthinking like he wasn't just inside of you.

"'course not. that was amazing. i think i'd go to hell if it meant having sex everyday— i see why castiel was encouraging me into trying this." you tilt your head to the side, and sam raises an eyebrow. he didn't even dare ask what odd things castiel told you about. nor did he want to know. he couldn't see castiel doing anyone without scaring them away with his bluntness first.

sam chooses to ignore that, leaning over to pepper kisses onto your cheeks, nose, and forehead. anywhere you'll let him at this point. "you did amazing. absolutely drained me. y'sure you haven't done that before?" he teases, and you roll your eyes at him. your eyes watched him with concern when sam stood.

"alright, crazy girl. let's get you cleaned up."

[luckyartdoll]

Imagine female Yuu having to cross dress to avoid unnecessary trouble at NRC and Idia finds out through Ortho. Because I can see Ortho finding out if Yuu ever got a minor injury and he was around to play nurse, knowing him he’d do a quick full body scan and find a very high amount of estrogen in her system.

And he blabs to Idia because he’s a snitch who doesn’t keep anything from his brother; if you tell a secret to him, you’re basically telling it to them.

Once Idia finds out, his mind INSTANTLY goes to those otome games and fanfics and gacha life videos about a girl in all boys school. He always thought those were just fun fantasies, but upon seeing that exact scenario happening in real life he becomes curious.

Prior to this, Idia probably wouldn’t think much about Yuu. To him, she was just the odd magicless guy his brother would occasionally run into; the most interesting thing about her was her cat, in his eyes. But now that he knows about her secret, he becomes heavily invested in her school life, he wants to see how this is going to turn out.

He doesn’t exactly stalk Yuu, it’s not like he’s putting cameras in Ramshackle or listening devices in her bag, it’s more like he just pays extra close attention to her when he has the chance, such as during joint classes and lunch. And since Ortho and her are on amicable terms, he encourages Ortho to spill any gossip he learns when around her.

To Idia’s surprise and delight, things end up matching up almost perfectly with what he’s come to expect from these kinds of plots. The ones close to Yuu, who seem to be privy to her secret from what he’s gathered, are all either falling in love or have already been in love. They’re extra protective of her, they’re affectionate and soft with her, and they get jealous when she gives too much of her attention to any one of them.

Idia knows about the overblot incidents, so of course he’d see the pattern in who starts getting closer. Every time someone overblots, Yuu will be there to help and both the overblotter and some other select people in their dorm will begin to fall. It’s a classic pattern.

At this point, Idia would simply see himself as an observer peeking in on this story and, therefore, he can’t be affected by Yuu. He’s not a love target in her story, he’s a side character.

It doesn’t matter that he’s occasionally run in with Yuu and each time he has she’s been a true friend to an introvert like him by making his anxious ass feel comfortable. It doesn’t matter because he’s aware of what’s happening and thus he can’t be affected.

But then he also overblots, and just like before she was there to help pick up the pieces. After that they ended up talking and Idia gets to know more about Yuu, more than he could learn by just observing.

Before long, he’s actually looking forward to seeing her again, to nerding out about his favorite anime’s with her in person because she’s always such a good listener. He’s looking at his manga and game collections and thinking about what she would like.

Idia doesn’t even realize his hearts been skipping beats when she’s around until one day when he’s in class and she walks in. Like a dog hearing their owner walk through the front door, his gaze shoots up and instantly that class gets fifty times more bearable with her around.

…And then he looks around and every other “main character” has had the same reaction.

Which means that he’s also a captured love target, just like them…

Oh how the turn tables for a dating sim loving nerd like himself

[lumiambrose]

✰ against all odds

kinktober 24 - day twentytwo

featuring: rin itoshi x f!reader

summary: the itoshi family organises a dinner for your families, giving you a chance to finally see the man of your affection again, and giving him a chance to let out his pent up anger on you.

tags: smut, reader is the itoshi families childhood friend, one sided love, p in v, he finishes inside, he really hates you, borderling manipulation, blackmail, degredation, spanking, ooc sae?, mean rin, shameless reader

wc: 1.8k

growing up with the itoshi family wasn't for the weak, that was a fact you learned at quite a young age. your parents had known each other since childhood, so it was a given that your families are close. growing up with the two boys, you were always closer to sae. to you, he was easier to approach. maybe it was because he was simply more mature, or maybe it was because you would always deny your growing crush on the younger itoshi.

that crush of yours led you to stay out of his way, making you always interact with the older itoshi and leaving poor rin left out. of course, rin didn't enjoy this at all, leaving him to dislike you more by each year, especially since once sae left, you two barely talked at all. although that didn't stop you from watching him on the sidelines, you were his biggest fan, and whether he knew or not, you were simply too scared to approach him.

luckily for you, you finally had the opportunity to see him again. sae was visiting japan for a couple weeks, and your parents, over the roof, organised a dinner for your families at the itoshi house. with your nerves worse than ever, the older itoshi did his best to reassure you. it had been years since you all last talked, and if rin was mad at anyone, it should be him.

that didn't stop you from trembling with fear as you made your way to the itoshi villa, donned in your cute white dress that you recently bought, hoping to leave a good impression as you built up the courage to talk to your crush. you were greeted by mrs. itoshi as you entered the estate, feeling back at home you made your way to the dining room, doing a one-over on all the familiar yet unknown faces. although as you scanned the room, you could only focus on one man. he hadn't changed a bit, teal eyes standing out with those lower lashes of his, he even had the same haircut as he did years ago. rin, no—your rin, hadn't changed one bit. your heart fluttered as you locked eyes, sending a shock through your body, which quickly turned into embarrassment as he let out a short scoff, clearly uninterested in you.

the dinner itself was boring, the food was good, but other than that, it was nothing more than your parents controlling the conversation while you and the two brothers sat and listened in. during the meal, you kept stealing glances at rin, sometimes you'd lock eyes, sometimes he'd purposefully avoid your gaze, but everytime you felt your cheeks heating up. he was stunning—perfect, you had nothing but admiration for him, even if he didn't like you.

it was during dessert that you finally gave into your curiosity, excusing yourself to the bathroom. although, instead of cleaning yourself up, once you made your way up the stairs, taking a right turn, finding yourself in front of a very familiar door. you hype yourself up once more, giving yourself the courage to open it, entering rin’s old room.

which is where you find yourself now. it is exactly as he left it. trophies adorn the shelves, and a picture of his most recent victory sits on his study desk. being in his room fills you with nostalgia, it makes you feel at home. you take your time exploring the familiar room, taking in every single detail, from the blue bedsheets to a family photo and even his wardrobe. it's once you reach his window that you stop in your tracks, staring out into the garden below, reminiscing on the past where the three of you would play together. it’s perfect, making you miss the childhood you shared with them.

“what the fuck are you doing in here?” a sharp voice awakens you from your daydream, making you shiver. you spin around, your heart leaping into your throat as you come face to face with rin. his teal eyes are narrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line of disapproval. "r-rin!" you stammer, "i'm so sorry, i didn't mean to intrude, i just..." your words trail off as you realise how pathetic you sound.

rin steps closer, towering over you. "just what? decided to take a little trip down memory lane in my room?" his voice is low, angry—almost a growl. "or were you hoping for something more?”

your cheeks flush a deep crimson, and you can feel your pulse racing. "n-no, of course not! i was just curious, i swear!" you step back, but find yourself pressed against the window.

rin advances closer, backing you up until there’s no space between the cold glass against your back. he places one hand above your head, leaning in close and trapping you. "don't fucking lie to me. do you take me for a fool? i’m not blind, you've always had a thing for me, haven't you?"

you swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry. "i…i don't know what you're talking about." but even to your own ears, the words sound weak and unconvincing.

rin chuckles at your pathetic state, his hot breath fanning across your face. "cut the bullshit. i'm not a kid anymore. and neither are you." his eyes rake over your body, lingering on the swell of your breasts beneath the thin fabric of your dress. "tell me the truth. did you come in here hoping to seduce me?"

your mind is racing, your body trembling with a heady mix of fear and desire. you know you should deny it, you should try to escape from this situation. but there's a part of you that wants the truth; that has always wanted him. "i...i can't deny that i have feelings for you," you whisper, your voice barely audible. "but i never thought...i mean, i understand you don't like me..."

rin's gaze on your hardens as he continues to look at you like a mere dog. "you think you can just waltz in here, stir up old feelings, and expect me to fall at your feet?" he scoffs, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "you've always been a tease, a nasty little vixen. always playing coy while batting your eyelashes at me."

his free hand trails down your side, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hip. "but I'm not a boy anymore, nor am i a fool. and i'm done playing stupid games." in one swift motion, he spins you around and presses you face-first against the window. you can feel the hard planes of his body against your back, his erection evident as it digs into your ass.

"rin! wait-" you gasp, but your protests are cut off as he yanks your panties down and kicks your legs apart.

"shut up," he growls, his hand coming down on your ass with a loud smack. "i'm going to give you exactly what you've always wanted. and you're going to take it like the desperate little slut you are."

you whimper as he frees his cock, feeling it prod against your entrance. "please," you beg, though at this point, you’re not sure if you're pleading for him to stop or to continue.

rin though, doesn't give you a choice. with one brutal thrust, he sheathes himself inside you, stretching you painfully around his girth. "fuck, you're so tight," he groans, his hips snapping forward in a punishing rhythm. "i bet you've been dreaming of this, haven't you? dreaming of me splitting you open on my cock?"

tears form at the corners of your eyes as he pounds into you, the pleasure bordering on pain. "yes!" you sob, pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts. "god, yes! been wanting this for so long."

rin's hand fists in your hair, yanking your head back as he leans down to hiss in your ear. "then take it. take every fucking inch of me. i'm going to fucking ruin you, no man’s ever going to want you after this. but you don’t care, isn’t that right?”

the grip he has on your hair tightens as he continues his torturing pace, his cock driving into you with brutal force. "can you even handle this?" he taunts, his other hand sliding around to roughly palm your breast. "being nothing but a dumb toy for me to use as i please."

you can only moan in response, your body surrendering to his being. his cock hitting you in all the right spots, sending immense pleasure straight to your core. despite the pain, you find yourself craving more, desperate for him to claim you completely.

he releases his grasp on your hair and grabs your hips instead, fingers digging into your flesh as he pulls you back onto his cock. "bet you've touched yourself thinking about this, haven't you? fantasising about me fucking you senseless? what a dumb whore" his voice is a low growl, filled with contempt and lust.

"yes," you gasp, your voice barely recognisable at this point. "i've dreamt of this every night."

rin almost laughs, unsure whether he should pity you or not. his pace increasing as he nears his climax. "good. because from now on, your body is mine. i'm going to mark you as mine, inside and out."

with one more powerful thrust, rin buries himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he fills you with his cum. the sensation sends you over the edge, your body shaking in ecstasy as your own orgasm crashes over you.

as you both come down from your highs, rin pulls out, letting his cum drip down your thighs. he turns you around to face him, his eyes dark and uncaring. "what a dumb slut," he says, staring down at you. "next time, you won't have to sneak into my room to get what you want. you can just beg for it like the pathetic little toy you are. once i call for you, of course," he says as he snatches your phone, unlocking it with ease and inputting a phone number.

“don’t even think about sharing this, or ignoring it.” he closes the distance. “if i call, you pick up. if i send you an address, you’re there in an hour. don’t make me wait, else i can easily find someone else.” he spits out before dressing himself and heading to the door.

“and if you tell anyone about these little endeavours, you’ll pay for it accordingly.” with that, he exits the room. leaving you in what once was your safe haven. although now, your thighs are dripping with cum of the man you once considered your saviour, your eyes watering up at the dark twist of what once was an innocent crush.

taglist: @ryescapades @143-ilyuu @maruflix @pixelcafe-network

©lumis kinktober 24' ─ do not translate, repost, copy any of my works

[sunderwight]

More cumplanewar au thoughts (stealing the ship name idea from @thesadisticsiren):

-This throuple is like, two guys and their attack dog. At a glance it would seem like SQQ and SQH are the two guys and LQG is the attack dog, but it actually depends on the situation.

-SQQ is the attack dog for winning verbal arguments, and Shang Qinghua is unleashed when the best solution would be to just ruin some clan's big picture financial prospects for the next ten generations. Liu Qingge might stab you but the other two are more likely to make you wish someone had just stabbed you.

-Yue Qingyuan has mixed feelings about this whole situation, but standing on the outside and smiling sadly at this strange adult version of Xiao Jiu while he moves on with his life without him feeds his emotional masochism, so that's mostly what he goes with.

-Qi Qingqi did not know that men could have polycules. She thought this was mostly just something women did when they smartened up and realized that having sex with each other and locking their shitty husband out at night was a better way of coping with being in a harem than competing. Live and learn.

-Luo Binghe eventually joins Cang Qiong (despite numerous efforts to get him into some other sect) by climbing Bai Zhan Peak. SQQ and SQH start coming up with contingency plans for what to do if there's some sort of "kill his own shizun" mandate in effect and Liu Qingge bites it. This is useful stuff just in general, given that Liu Qingge is still just lousy with character death flags and also has literally made it his job to run headlong into dangerous situations.

-Shen Qingqiu still manages to die the most.

-Mu Qingfang doesn't know why these two specific martial brothers of his with like zero medical training keep coming to him with new miraculous methods for healing multiple amputations and heavy blood loss, but he is NOT complaining.

-Huan Hua Palace Master likes to make insinuating remarks about Cang Qiong's "famous fraternal love" between peak lords in a way that seems perfectly polite but also implies something seedy is going on. This doesn't work out well, mostly because it flies right over Liu Qingge's head, Shang Qinghua is just nodding along and feeding every scrap of HHP intel he gets to Mobei Jun, and Shen Qingqiu's roasting ability was forged in the fires of online comment sections, so pitting him against a tacky drama villain is like releasing a feral cat onto a small island that has only evolved flightless birds with no native predators.

-It actually does take them a while to start fucking. Mainly happens because of sex pollen the first time, of course, and then Shang Qinghua has to just be like "that was fun, let's do it again" so that Liu Qingge and Shen Qingqiu can yell at him about it until they calm down enough to agree.

-Liu Qingge keeps trying to get Officially Married, but Shang Qinghua doesn't want to do the paperwork (worries he's secretly the third wheel and they're going to want to get rid of him at some point), and Shen Qingqiu doesn't want to firm things up until after the plot has passed (thinks he might still get murdered and doesn't want to make things 'messy' if that happens).

-There is a persistent external impression that the shrewd & scheming SQQ and SQH have basically beguiled and bewildered Liu Qingge into their beds in order to exploit his potential and use his body. Shen Qingqiu tears this porn to shreds, Liu Qingge is reluctantly into it, and Shang Qinghua is just surprised to be cast as a top even though he's the shortest.

-Mobei Jun trying to figure out how to navigate human culture just well enough to get into the polycule but only to exclusively date Shang Qinghua is the lady with the math equations meme.

[corameiwrites]

𖦹 i want somebody to want pt. 2 𖦹

pair: jason todd x gn!reader

plot: faced with the knowledge that there is someone out there for him, jason todds life is thrown in a whirlwind

wc: 3.8k

authors note: i'm thinking about making the reader in this series an artist. the issue: i can't decide whether their focus is visual art, music, writing, or some performing art. I would appreciate any input you have on this, as it'll probably be mentioned in the next part of this series!

pt. 1

The first time Jason Todd saw you, he swore his heart stopped beating again. 

Since that drunken night out at the bar, Jason had begun to look for you everywhere. He went out as a civilian more, began accepting offers to grab a coffee or go hangout somewhere. His siblings, of course, had taken advantage of this fact. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but everywhere he looked, he always tried to catch a glimpse of you. The photos Tim had found online of you were ingrained in his brain. When he closed his eyes, his subconscious was no longer filled with all the dreadful things he’d done and experienced. Your smile—the same one he now searched for in crowds—replaced every aspect of his mind. 

Jason had opted for a hoodie layered underneath his leather jacket that day. Damian was bundled up as well, donning a rather janky scarf that Dick had made for him during his crochet phase. Aware of his brother's newfound interest in going out in public, Damian asked Jason if he would take him to a park to gather materials needed for his science class diorama. Agreeing, Jason had picked him up from school and walked with him through the better parts of Gotham to one of the only clean and functioning parks, which just so happened to be near the University area.

“Odd location of park, Todd.”

“Shut it, Wayne.”

Despite the various offers from his family to track you down or learn more about you, Jason had strictly told them not to, beyond looking up your social media and what was public. Even then, he had hesitated when Tim found your accounts. He didn’t want to learn every little thing about you before you had even met—it felt intrusive. He didn’t want his vigilante family stalking you; crashing into your apartment or kidnapping you to meet him, as Damian had lovingly suggested. He wanted what was between you two to be natural, to happen in its own time.

Damian was crouched beside a bush, gathering twigs and little rocks while Jason stood beside him, surveying the park out of habit. Despite the sun's rays shining down, the chill in the breeze had every kid playing on the playground bundled up, and the occasional couple holding hands, walking a little closer to retain some heat. Thankfully, Damian had no interest in looking for materials anywhere near the rowdy playground, so they opted to walk around the wide field, staying on the somewhat scenic walking trail. 

In the middle of the grassy field, about 30 people were gathered around a picnic table where an older man sat. He had kept his eye on the group for a while now, and had deducted that it was a class of sorts. The people listening to the man speak looked to be around his age, and all of them had bags. Some stood while many sat on the grass in front of the man. 

“Jason, the bag please.” Damian's arm shot up towards Jason, gesturing to the grocery bag halfway full of rocks and twigs. Handing it to him, Jason watched in amusement as Damian inspected two rocks meticulously, carefully placing one of them into the bag and tossing the other behind him carelessly. 

“Hey, look before you throw those things.”

 Damian's response was another smaller rock thrown at his brother's chest. Jason scoffed, crossing his arms as he turned back to the field, observing the class. 

It seemed to be ending, as the people began to stand up and walk away, some by themselves, others in groups. Through the rush of everyone standing, he saw—

You. 

Holy fucking shit. You were here. 

Even from far away, he could see laughter bubbling out of your mouth as you wiped grass off yourself, talking to a friend of yours. You were radiant; and call it cliche, but to him you were shining brighter than the sun. Thankfully, you were slow to pack up, so he watched, totally captivated by you as you talked with your friends in a small group around the professor. 

Seeing you like this was surreal to Jason. The way you smiled at something someone said, how you looked around at the scenery around you, the way you existed and interacted with people—it was surreal. 

Until now, you had only existed in the wonders of his mind at night and as a static photo in his phone. Yet here you were, existing in your own world that hadn’t yet collided with his. You had no idea that in less than seven months, you would find his name on your arm. 

Jason felt nauseous. Even from this far away, you outmatched everything his mind had come up with from the photos. An overwhelming sense of dread slowly crawled its way up his throat. He couldn’t pinpoint where it came from or what he was feeling exactly, but all he knew was that he wasn’t okay. His mouth was dry, and his eyes were slightly more watery. Despite this, he couldn’t look away. If seeing you from this far away had that effect on him, he didn’t know what he would do when he actually met you, face to face. A little sadly, he watched as you picked up your bag, waving to your professor and friends as you walked away. His eyes never left your retreating figure, and the muscles in his calves twitched to follow. 

“Ahki,” the tug on Jason's pants reminded him why he was here in the first place, who he was, where he was, and that he wasn’t alone. “Am I allowed to put this in the diorama?” 

Hesitantly (and with much effort), Jason tore his gaze from your distant figure, looking down to the caterpillar in Damians hand. He sighed, shaking his head and turning back to where his heart had disappeared to. 

“No, leave it be Damian.”

Later, further down the line on a cozy night in, he would inquire why your class had been outdoors that day. You would tell him the heater in your classroom was broken, causing the room to feel like the insides of a toaster oven. Your professor could only shed so many layers before he decided to go on a field trip to a local park for class where it was much cooler. The students had been enthusiastic about it, and ultimately, paid more attention to what their professor was lecturing. 

You, being the way that you are, would apologize for not noticing him further away on the trail. Scoffing at that, he would pull you tighter against him on the couch. 

“Nothin’ to be sorry for,” he’d say softly, placing a delicate kiss on your temple. “I was a wreck when I saw you anyways. Probably would have thrown up if you came up to talk to me.” 

“Well, I was a wreck when I first talked to you too.”

“At Sifted?”

“No, not the coffee shop,” you would snuggle further into him, closing your eyes as a hum of contentment rumbled through Jason's chest. “When I was walking home from the studio.”

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩  ♡  ✩˚｡⋆𖦹｡°⋆✮

The first time Jason Todd interacted with you, it was behind the mask. He had added your general area to his patrol route, despite the low crime rates. If he were being completely honest, it was a much needed respite from crime alley. It allowed him to calm down before going somewhere to rest, simply watching as students walked home from their late night classes, or drunkenly hopped from bar to bar. Occasionally, he would beat up some bastards from following students home, save a couple places from robberies, crack down on some drug deals—the typical stuff. 

It was nearing five in the morning when he arrived at your apartment. He typically started out his patrol here on the roof of the building, surveying the area (and resisting the urge to jump down onto your third floor fire escape) before expanding outward towards the more crime ridden and shadowy parts of the area. 

The streets were eerily vacant this time of night. The only noises were the occasional far off gunshot, the sounds of cars backfiring, and distant yells of drunk frat kids at the bars a couple blocks over. These sounds had all become familiar to Gotham residents, and sitting atop some random buildings jagged rooftop, Jason closed his eyes, allowing his bruised and scar ridden body to relax for a minute. 

A far off cry for help snapped his eyes open. 

Alert, his head whipped around, trying to determine which direction the cry had come from. 

Another yell, and he was running across rooftops. 

Grappling down onto a balcony, he spotted the struggle between two people on the side of the street. One of them ran out of the darkness, towards the streetlight and Jason felt his heart stop yet again. 

It was you. 

You, and some asshole attempting to do god knows what. 

Instantly he jumped down from the balcony, running to the man who had his eyes set on you. He was attempting to say something, probably some threat meant to scare you into submission, but it never left his throat. 

The Red Hood grabbed the man's ragged clothing, yanking him back. He came tumbling backwards, a curse escaping his mouth. 

Jason swung, his fist colliding with the man's chin. The sharp clack of teeth hitting teeth was painful to hear, let alone watch as the man was hurled to the hard pavement from the punch. 

The man groaned loudly, yelling curses. Jason stalked over to the man, lifting him up by the shirt before giving him another painful punch to his temple. The man wasn’t knocked out, per say, but now he was incapable of forming a coherent sentence or moving his limbs in a precise manner. 

Squatting, Red Hood rummaged through his belt for tactical wire. He turned his head, helmet looking at your shocked figure. At some point, probably when he had uppercut the guy, you had sunk to the floor, leaning against the light pole. 

You stared wide eyed at the scene, gaze flickering from the man to Red Hood. He simply turned his head, flipping the man onto his stomach and tying his hands together behind his back. His head pounded from the adrenaline, from the fact that you had been in danger. 

He stood, walking towards you. From this height, you looked like a frightened alley cat, curled up on itself. Slowly, he stuck his hand out. 

Your gaze flickered from the gloved hand to the helmet, hesitantly placing your hand atop his. Jason's heart soared. 

In the most careful manner, Jason helped to pull you up off the cold cement, standing back on your feet. His hand never let go of yours, and you slowly pulled it back, fixing your attire. 

“Thank you…” your voice was shaky, and this close, Jason saw the way you trembled slightly. If you weren’t here, he would have killed the guy squirming on the sidewalk a few feet away. 

Despite the obvious tremor in your voice, Jason's throat had closed up at finally, finally hearing your voice. The deep, soul-clutching feeling from when he saw you at the park a couple weeks ago slowly made its second appearance in his gut, and the temperature inside his helmet seemed to increase. Turning his head, he saw a bag discarded on the ground, the same one you had with you on that cold day at the park. 

Walking over to the bag, he got down on one knee and picked up all the things that fell out of it. 

Chapstick, two pens, a wallet with a very familiar government ID, some coins, and….a tiny plastic dinosaur? 

Jason smiled, putting it back inside your bag before standing once more, bringing the bag back over to you. Your eyes hadn’t left him, and your hand had grabbed your bag with much less hesitance than before. You thanked him yet again, fumbling with your clothing and keychains. Jason watched, and noted how your breathing continued to come rather fast, your jaw beginning to tremble. 

He didn’t want you to feel threatened, didn’t want you to ever feel whatever you were feeling right now. Your gaze flickered to the semi-unconscious man on the pavement. Jason could tell how scared you still were, despite the attacker being tied up and incapacitated behind him. His mind raced to help you without coming off as odd or threatening. He couldn’t offer you a hug, who would want to hug Red Hood? The famed murderer and crime lord turned vigilante, turned Batman Associate. Not exactly the most comforting person. Despite this, his arms ached to hold you, to wrap his frame around yours and guard you from the rest of the world. 

All Jason wanted was to protect you. 

“Were you walking home?” When he spoke, he tried his damn best to sound less intimidating through the helmet modulator. Your head lifted to look at him, or rather the mask. You nod slowly. 

“I’ll walk you the rest of the way.”

“You don’t have to, you’ve already done enough—”

“I want to.” His voice left no room for negotiation, and somehow, you knew this wasn’t a battle you would win. A small smile crept its way onto your face, and you nodded, muttering a small okay. 

You began to walk. 

Jason followed. 

He always would. 

It had only been a few silent minutes by the time your apartment building loomed before you. You turned back towards Red Hood, awkwardly thanking him once more, getting a nod in response before entering the building. 

From a rooftop, Jason watched as the lights in your living room turned on. Turning with the final knowledge that you were safely home, he made his way back towards the man he left binded up on the sidewalk. 

Despite his own doubts and insecurities, he reminded himself you were his for a reason. You were the one person who could comfort him the most, help him in his darkest times, and love him despite all the wrongs he's done, rough edges and all. And regardless of what his brain told him, he could do the same for you. Tonight was proof of that. The universe, despite it’s wild and fucked up ways, had given him the gift of you. You two were made for each other—you’re his soulmate. 

As he landed down on the sidewalk, the man turned his head, eyes widening at the return of Red Hood. He blabbered, begging for mercy as Jason loomed over him. 

The bastard was going to regret ever attempting to hurt you. 

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩  ♡  ✩˚｡⋆𖦹｡°⋆✮

The first time you met Jason Todd was an accident. 

In the last year or so of moving to Gotham, you had made it a habit to leave your overpriced apartment every couple days to work/study in the cozy coffee shop—Sifted—a block away. You had settled into a routine of going there after class, in the mornings, and whenever you needed air from your cramped apartment. Quickly, you had made yourself a regular. 

You began to notice other regulars as well; a mother with her two toddlers who would be there for lunch every Tuesday and Thursday, back on Sundays with the father. A group of teenagers who would come in every morning before walking to school, and an older man who seemed to constantly be stressed out who ordered a comically large plain black coffee. 

The quaint little Cafe was a hidden gem in Gotham, hidden away from the crime and ugly side of the city. Everywhere you looked inside the place was aesthetically pleasing, with a plethora of plants, as well as a small free library and games for kids. The seating was diverse as well, with tables of different heights and shapes, comfy chairs, and plush couches/cushions for the kid area. 

Simply put, it fulfilled all your aesthetic coffee shop dreams. 

As of late, you had noticed the recurring presence of a handsome guy, about your age, brunette with good style, who was absolutely shredded. You had first seen him a couple weeks ago in the afternoon when you sat down at your usual corner table to get some work done. He sat across the shop in a leather chair, facing your direction. On the little side table, he had a steaming beverage—either tea or coffee you guessed—and a book in hand. 

The Picture of Dorian Gray, Oscar Wilde. 

To say that you were a little attracted to him would be an understatement. He had sporadically been showing up to the coffee shop since then (always with a book), and you had been lucky enough to be there at the same time he was. Once, while waiting in line to order, you had watched through the front glass windows as a red motorcycle pulled up to the shop, the rider parking and taking off their helmet.

 Of course, Mr. Bookworm rode a motorcycle. After gaining this new bit of information on him, your mind went wild with fantasies and dreams of being swept away off your feet, taken to ride somewhere at top speeds through Gotham streets. 

Your brain told you that this was a stupid hallway crush—there was zero chance of getting with him. And yet, the countless times you had caught his eye, or exchanged a quick smile with him while leaving or entering made you think otherwise, because maybe, just maybe he was curious about you too. 

Today, you were a mess. You had attempted to pull an all-nighter working on a project for one of your classes, but had fallen asleep on the rug in your living room. You woke up around noon feeling more tired than you were before falling asleep, and your stomach was rumbling and aching for food. You were more than disappointed to see you forgot to go shopping for basic snacks and things to eat that didn’t require cooking or more than two dishes. 

You had opted to stop by Sifted, the coffee shop on your way to class to pick up a sandwich and coffee to help energize you before rushing to your 1 PM class. When you approached the cafe, your heart skipped a beat to see a certain red motorcycle parked outside. 

Entering, you were a little shocked to see your guy sitting with another man (also shredded) with a small gray dog in his lap. His eyes flickered to you as you entered, and you smiled at him before rushing to the counter and ordering your much needed coffee. Rather than sit down, you stood by the counter where they placed all the drinks, opening your phone and aimlessly scrolling. 

You would be lying if you said you weren’t eyeing the two men in your peripheral vision. 

The soft music playing over the speakers, combined with the typical clamor from the kitchen and baristas muffled their conversation. After five or so minutes of scrolling and stealing glances, the barista placed two drinks down on the counter. 

Taking one of the cardboard cups into your hand, you quickly thanked the barista before turning. On your way out, you passed the guy on his way to the counter. An intrusive thought about the height difference between you two filled you with shame, and you quickened your way to the door. 

Once outside, you threw away the receipt in a trashcan, bringing your coffee in its to-go cup to your lips. 

What went down your throat was not coffee. This was not what you ordered. 

Swallowing, you brought the cup up higher, inspecting the writing in bold marker on the side—

Hot Chocolate - Jason

No way. 

No fucking way, you had just stolen someone elses drink. 

It wasn’t just anyone either. It was the guy of your dreams, who you now knew to be named Jason. Jason, who rode a red motorcycle, read at a coffee shop for an hour almost every day, while drinking Hot Chocolate of all things.

Sighing, you turn back around, walking into the cozy shop once more. Instantly, you make eye contact with the guy Jason, who is standing in front of his friend, or whoever he was here with, drink held high to inspect it. Your drink. 

Sheepishly, you make your way over to him, apologizing. “Hi, I am so sorry, you’re Jason, right? I just grabbed a drink without looking even though I probably should have and I accidentally took yours and already took a sip of it, so can I buy you another drink if you want? I’m sorry again…” 

The lack of proper sleep seemed to be getting to you, and you only realized when you were done how you had rambled to him. You heard a chuckle, and glanced behind Jason to his friend who was smiling, looking down at the dog in his lap. 

“It’s no big deal,” Jason responded, looking down at you. He took a sip of his your drink. “Do you always get this? It’s good.”

A little taken aback by his friendly demeanor, you allow yourself to smile more freely. He wasn’t mad, which meant he probably didn’t hate you, which also meant that you still had a slim chance with this guy. 

“Sometimes I do.” You tell him your name, pointing to the cup where it was written. He introduces himself too, despite the fact you already know. 

“I’ve uh, noticed you around here a lot.” He ran a hand through his hair, and you swear he knew what he was doing. 

“Yeah, me too. Not me, obviously. You–I’ve noticed you too.” Seriously, you need to work on how well you respond in high-stress situations. He smiles in response, nodding. It’s an awkward interaction, really, but not in an unbearable way. It’s almost sweet, how neither of you can hold eye contact for too long before looking down or fidgeting in some way. 

The conversation lulls there before you see a clock and realize you have fifteen minutes to make it to your class on time. 

“Well I uh, I have to go but it was nice to meet you.” You take a step backwards, wanting to run away and stay there talking to him at the same time. His lips draw tight into a line and he nods. “And sorry again for stealing your drink.” 

“It’s really alright. Have a good day.” 

“You too!” With that awkward end, you turn and basically run towards the door, exiting the shop and quickly walking down the sidewalk, away from Jason, Hot Chocolate in hand. Even with embarrassment flaming through your body, you can’t help the wide grin from settling onto your face. 

He had noticed you. 

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You had noticed him. 

The thought alone made him giddy, and as he replayed the entire interaction, he couldn’t help his heart from thumping wildly in his ribcage. 

You had talked to him. You apologized to him, said his name. 

Slowly, he sat back down in his usual leather chair, starstruck. Next to him, Dick laughed as he watched his brother. 

“If this is how you're acting after one small interaction, I think you’re in trouble.”

“Shut up, Dick.” 

Haley barked softly, wagging her tail.