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#as i said before i don't see much the ooc in either of them
fl00mie · 3 days
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tw: suicide
thinking about how The Truce comic is not simply a self-discovery of error and ink and a primary introduction to xtale, but explores other facets of the characters such as hopelessness to the point of wanting to end their lives. i've known about this comic for years but i never paid enough attention to this type of topics and i just used to interpret it as fun interactions between these two idiots (i don't want to proclaim this as canon, i'm just looking to analyze jakei's interpretations of these characters)
on the one hand there's ink, who clearly looks more desperate than error and externalizes it in order to control it
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although we can know more about his perspective of the situation by being the narrator of the story, i feel that "talking to himself as if he were writing a funny diary" fits perfectly, in addition to staying calm by doing any type of activity or physical movement self-talk helps him with this
of course it would be much better for him if he had someone to talk to, and he does! but it's error we're talking about so thinking about it, ink probably bothered him to feel company by getting scolded by him (unintentionally or not)
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on the other hand there is error, who, as we know, is completely accustomed to the void so it's easy for him to stay calm at first. what seems to make him lose his mind is not having the freedom to move (much less with ink, or in general another person next to him) or to leave that place, so he chooses to try to have it all to achieve a minimum of satisfaction or self-sufficiency
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we notice how ink is losing his sanity more as time goes by, he notices error is also having an internal struggle but knows how to hide it (this really says a lot about the character, whether due to pride, trauma or any other reason, he doesn't like to look weak under any circumstances)
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i always find the interpretations that many give to the emptying ink vials quite ingenious, in this situation it clearly represents the loss of hope and the no escape from the mental and emotional hell in which they find themselves
they both seem to regain some consciousness as they literally see their reason for existing in front of them
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but are totally incapable of doing anything about it
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this, in a subtle way, ends all the hopes that could still exist within both of them
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error makes the first move and, strangely, is "cordial" with his companion for the last time before literally ending his life, they start a small conversation in which they say goodbye (in a way). it's interesting how this situation seems to be of no importance to error, he knows what's coming next and yet he doesn't seem upset at all
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as well, error does not seem to have incited ink to do the same as him (on the contrary, it's as if he stopped him from doing it in case he had considered it but said it in a very crude way), however, ink takes it as a free pass to "catch him later"
this is how ink gives his last message to those who once helped him, to those who allowed him to continue living in the first place. he tries to call them for help (it's important to emphasize that he also, consciously or not, sought to help error, whether for "selfish" reasons such as staying active and energized in his multiversal journey, having a purpose in his fight more than just protecting, or any other)
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and instead of an answer to his prayers..
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the only thing he achieves is witnessing a nightmare incarnate, his world shatters in a couple of seconds with no chance to stop it
it's a mix of feelings unique to him, something he's never experienced before, everything he longed to protect all this time didn't seem to have borne fruit, what kind of torture was that?
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that was the straw that broke the camel's back
error, having witnessed this, feels fulfilled at first, without lifting a single finger he has achieved what he had always (from what he remembers) longed for.. and still, he doesn't seem to care about the situation at all, what good is a small drop of satisfaction in a sea of ​​hypocrisy?
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the roles seem to have reversed, and even though error wasn't that hopeless anymore, he continued with his initial idea and this time, both of them say goodbye, ready to proceed and "get this over with"
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seventh-district · 1 month
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not even gonna tag this properly bc i don't wanna get Involved but i do have some Thoughts i need to get out into the void so here we go
(aaa quick edit: CW for mention/discussion of Boothill leaks)
#today's gone Badly and i'm upset but instead of venting abt it i'm gonna channel that energy into doing a bit of tag rambling abt Boothill#well. less abt Him and more abt uh. self-analyzing my anxiety surrounding contributing to fandoms. he's just today's catalyst#like. i know it's mostly a me thing. i'm hypersensitive to criticism and very conflict avoidant + socially anxious + perfectionistic etc.#so I'm the one that keeps myself from posting more stuff out of fear of being criticized or called-out for what i've made#bc inevitably Someone's gonna see it and think its OOC or a problematic take or they'll misread my intent. etc etc what have you#but like. that's inevitable. there's no way to communicate every single thing with all of the nuance required to avoid misunderstandings#and other times it's not a misunderstanding it's just a difference of opinions and that's Fine!! there's no accounting for personal taste#there's no accounting for several things actually. taste‚ bias‚ lore-knowledge‚ differing levels of chronic-online-ness‚ etc#so this isn't me complaining abt the state of fandom culture (although i do think. sometimes. ppl take shit a bit too seriously)#but anyways all of this is mostly just anxiety-fueled. it's not like i very often actually even receive negative feedback or anything#if anything ppl tend to tell me that i'm overthinking it and killing my own fun and worried that my stuff is more OOC than it is#which like. yeah. Yeah u right :) but that's just the way that i am! always losing the idgaf war i suppose#anyways what's Boothill got to do w this ur wondering. well. i've been thinking abt the quickly emerging concept that he's illiterate.#and it just. has me feeling a lot of ways. and watching ppl disagree over it has me feeling some Bad ways. bc it's def a loaded topic!#if you'll pardon the pun there. and i don't rlly have anything new to add other than that i'm conflicted abt it.#like yeah i saw the leaks days ago. of him mentioning 'not hitting the books' much as a child when we ask him why he sends voice messages#or voice Transcriptions ig. ykwim. and like. *braces for impact* ...i liked it? like. it doesn't feel right to call it endearing#i'm not trying to infantilize him. ok that's not the right word either but ugh. you know? what i mean?? who am i kidding even i don't know#it's not quite right to say that it feels like Representation either. but it's something close i guess#as a southern person myself who didn't receive a 'complete' education due to factors that weren't to do with my intelligence#the concept of seeing him as a capable force to be reckoned with and respected who also happens to have not received much formal education#i like that. i do. but there's so many issues w it at the same time. like. as i said‚ being southern myself has me Wary of the way Hoyo is-#writing him. as well as of the way that the fandom is taking the bits of his lore and running away w them. and i'm Very aware of how ppl-#will see a southern character and be All Too Eager to agree that they're lacking intelligence based on our Redneck™ stereotype#sigh. and before we even go too far with this. it's not even confirmed that hes completely illiterate. which is a valid criticism i've seen#there's Multiple reasons that could make him prefer voice to text. but regardless. i'm just worried that ppl will misconstrue my intentions#like. example: that edit i made the other day of him saying 'no thanks i can't read'. wasn't me playing into the stereotype of-#'haha dumb country boy can't read!' it was. in my eyes. something he'd say as a joke to make light of a potential insecurity#like. i think there's far more depth to Boothill's character if ppl could look past the surface. and i dont wanna contribute to the problem#but sometimes ppl Will have stereotypical traits and i wish the same could apply to characters as long as it's done Thoughtfully.
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gotham-daydreams · 2 months
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Not Now (PT. 2)
[Platonic! Yandere! Neglectful Batfam × Gender Neutral! Sibling Reader]
[Warnings: Mentions of Neglect, Mild General Yandere(ish) Behavior, Arguing, Awkward Tension(?), No One is Having a Good Time, Angst, Implied Past Injuries (To Reader)]
(When I say arguing I do mean it this time. Might be a bit more OOC? Dick is living up to his nickname. This is longer than the first part, just fyi - and by a good 4k or so words. Again, take your time and remember to take breaks!)
Didn't tag anyone on this post since both this part and the first are posted back to back :] Regardless, enjoy!
Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3 (PT. 1). [Series Masterlist]
๑۩۞۩๑————————————————————๑۩۞۩๑
"I… I just don't think it's a good idea. It doesn't feel right, and- and I…" You couldn't think of much else to say. All the reasons you had felt too personal, and you didn't feel comfortable telling Dick any of them. Not out here, and certainly not while he was in the suit. Though even if he wasn't, you weren't sure that it'd make you any more willing to tell him anything. 
After all, you wouldn't even share the date of your birthday if he asked now, with or without the suit.
"Yeah, but why? It doesn't make sense to not go to either place just because you have a ‘bad feeling�� or anything. Even then, you'll be safe, and that's what really matters." That didn't feel like it was the case. Your safety doesn't feel like a priority over him just being able to keep an eye on you, and being able to pull anything he wants to without any prying eyes.
Though it was with that thought, did you wonder when you began to see Dick as someone so untrustworthy that you considered him to be on the same level as a thug out on the streets. Just far more dangerous and capable.
"Look, I just-" You sigh harshly, looking back at Dick as the fire in your chest rose, building up as it poked at your ribs and flesh. Begging for more air, more room to grow. "I'm going to the park. If you're not coming then that's fine by me, and if you're not okay with that, then there's nothing I can do about it." You state, looking forward as you pick up your pace. 
Dick fumbles over his words before he hurriedly matches your pace, "Wait! Let's try and think this over-"
"Why? Even if we're out in the open, you're still a vigilante. If you can defend and look after an entire city, then surely you can protect one person, right? Not to mention that I can take care of myself." You huff, still keeping your eyes forward even as they narrow. You add, "Besides, again- not many people are out tonight. And if anything- seem to be rushing home, because of whatever is going on. We'll be fine."
"Sure. Yeah. I can handle it- but wouldn't it be smarter to just be inside anyway? That way it's less likely for anything to happen. You have to think rationally-" You swiftly cut Dick off again, really trying to put your foot down and stand your ground here.
"I am thinking rationally. You're a skilled vigilante that's been trained under Batman, and have only improved in skill and technique over the years. If anything goes wrong, and I can't handle it, you can. Not to mention that you have a way to contact the others if things really do go sideways, and you're in the suit. I didn't think I needed to say anything else." You sigh, lightly scratching the cup in your hands with your nail.
"Also, if you haven't noticed, even criminals and thugs are running home. It's like some kind of quarantine or lock down is going on. Some random person eavesdropping on us doesn't seem like it'll be a problem. Let alone with all of the noises that seem to be 'persuading' people to go home."
Dick could only sigh himself before saying, "Alright- okay. Fine. But like you said, I'm still in the suit."
"And?"
"And someone could see, and think that you're a close tie to me or something. You could be put in more danger."
"Are you actually worried about that now? You've been walking beside me this entire time when you didn't have to, and it's only now that you're worried about me being seen with you in the suit?"
"How else are we supposed to have this conversation? And I'm sorry for being worried about your safety, and well-being in the future for being seen with me." You could practically hear the eye-roll in Dick's voice despite knowing that he didn't actually do it. When did he get so sarcastic?
"That's not the issue, and you know that. We could've figured out some other way to have this talk, and you didn't have to walk beside me this entire time." You shot him a glance, causing Dick to sigh again.
"What if something happened while I was up top, and I couldn't react fast enough because I wasn't next to you? Someone could've tried something if I wasn't there, especially because you'd appear to be by yourself."
"So… remind me again, who's the paranoid one?"
"Y/n, I'm being serious." Dick states.
"I know. I'm being serious too, and I'm just saying that it's kind of ridiculous to be worrying about that now when it's already been a few minutes." You huff, "And I don't know what you expect me to do about it. I'm not the one in the suit, y'know. Why don't you just go and change somewhere?"
Dick rubs his nose bridge, getting annoyed but not trying to show it as he says, "Fine. I can do that, but at least come with me." He looks at you expectantly as his hand drops from his face. You couldn't help but raise a brow at his words.
"Why?"
"So that I can keep an eye on you…? And if anything happens while I'm changing- I'll be able to jump in and help much faster?" Dick said, confused. Talking as if he was stating the obvious, and maybe he was in a way, but you didn't see why he's so adamant about being close to you enough where he could easily protect you or reach you if needed.
"But wouldn't that kind of go against the point of you changing…?"
"What do you mean?"
"If I wait somewhere and Nightwing walks off, only for you-know-who to pop up after a little while, and we walk off together, wouldn't that be weird? Or at least hint at a certain something?" You point out, a little confused and surprised that you even had to explain this to Dick.
"C'mon, I won't be that obvious. And even then, no one will be able to figure it out."
"You say that like every other villain or wannabe in Gotham isn't some genius or anything. They're criminals and all that, but they aren't entirely stupid."
Dick sighs, though it came out more frustrated than he would’ve liked as he ran a hand through his hair once again, "Still, I'd just like for you to at least be close by. I don't want anything to happen to you, and I want to be able to help out as soon and as quickly as I can if anything does." He explains, getting a little closer to you.
"Please, Y/n. Just come with me."
You shake your head, your shoulders feeling far too heavy, and the flame in your chest was much too hot for you to even think about it. You knew Dick wasn't happy about it when he gave you a little room, but still kept close. As if hoping you'd change your mind, despite already knowing the answer.
"I'll just head to the park, and wait a few minutes. I'm not defenseless and can handle myself for a while, and it's not my fault that I could be in more potential danger because someone thought it was a good idea to come see me, and follow me around while in their suit. You can figure it out, and live without me for a few minutes." You huff harshly, adding, "If you aren't there after that time? I'm leaving. That's all." Once again, you pick up your pace, only to be stopped by Dick as he rushes in front of you.
"Wait- hold on. Are you sure about this? I don't think it's a good idea- and how long exactly will you be waiting? Where are you going if you leave? Are you going back to the apartment? Are you going home?" You don't like how hopeful Dick looked when he asked you that last question, but you push your discomfort to the side, and stand your ground.
"I'm an adult, and I'm a L/n. I'm sure about this. You can think whatever you want, and like I said- I'll be waiting a few minutes. If you're not there by then, I'm going to leave." You narrow your eyes at Dick, piercing him with your gaze as you said, "I've made my choice and I'm sticking to it. If you're not happy about it, or don't agree, then you can leave and I'll go on with my night. I'll wait at the park, and that's that." You state one final time before making your way around Dick, and continuing to walk forward. Luckily, he didn't try to stop you again, and if anything — seemed to stop following you entirely.
All you heard was a low scoff from behind you, and the rush of wind.
When you glance back, Dick was gone, and it was only then did you realize how heavy the air felt. Releasing the breath you didn't know you had been holding, you clutch your chest. Your heart aches, and yet you manage to push on.
Tonight wasn't exactly going well for you, but that almost tipped you over the edge.
You were beginning to hate many things about tonight, along with Dick. It almost made you think that maybe you were lucky back when he hardly ever noticed or talked to you. It made things easier, after all, and of course now that you've had your longest conversation with him — things were only getting harder.
Every word he said made him seem bigger, or pushed you down as an attempt to make you smaller. His reasoning could go from making complete sense, to being outright idiotic and paranoid. With each action of his being either too small or way too much. 
Dick, in that way, was too much.
You could chalk up some of your discomfort and nervousness to your lack of experience with Dick, and being around him. Of course some of his antics and habits would seem strange to you — since you were never able to see much of them, and those that you did notice were from a far, and never up close. You weren't able to experience them yourself, not until now. Though that almost made you grateful for all the times he turned you down or ignored you, seeing as now you could only see how much of a handful he is to deal with. 
Maybe that could've changed if you were more familiar with him, but it was too late for that now. Even if you did wonder how this whole thing would've gone if you did know him. If you were more familiar with how Dick acted, and had actually managed to spend time with him. If Dick was more familiar with you, and how that'd change this whole situation… but, again, it was much too late for that. If he really wanted to know you, he would've taken one of the chances you gave him over the years, and yet he didn't. No one did. No one except for Alfred…
You hope he's okay, at least.
Shaking your head, you push your thoughts to the side. There was no use thinking about 'what if's, not when such thoughts and possibilities kept you in the manor for so long. Not when your mind used them against you, and had you keep that pathetic hope you once desperately clung onto. You promised yourself you wouldn't do that anymore, and so you took a breath, and tried to stop them from coming in. They always slip by, but you try to ignore them. Especially since they caused you so much trouble that could have easily been avoided in the past.
You took a small sip of your coffee, only to pull it away and look at the cup strangely. 
It was… bitter. More so than you remember, and it immediately struck you as odd. Since, Jessica always managed to make your coffee the exact same way every time, and even if she did make some mistakes here and there, the change was never this significant or noticeable. Not like it was now, with the taste lingering on your tongue, almost trying to further stain your taste buds and remain there for as long as possible. As if trying to permanently ingrain itself in your mouth.
You couldn't help but cringe a bit. Maybe getting coffee really was a bad idea after all…
Sighing, you just continue on and brush the weird occurrence to the side. Whatever, you have enough things to deal with and worry about now. There wasn't much you could do about the coffee, and if anything, maybe that just went to further show how horrible your night is going thanks to Dick. 
Though, you wouldn't push it that far, even if your opinion of him was definitely souring by the minute, but the thought was pretty funny to think about, at least.
The night felt calm for once, and it’s only now, with you by yourself, do you realize how much you needed this.
Sure, Gotham was potentially going to hell, and you might see Dick again in a few minutes, but you don't have to worry about that right now. Just here, in the streets, did you have… normal problems. Problems unrelated to a family you no longer wanted to involve yourself with, that also just so happened to be made up of vigilantes. Problems that didn't involve your musical career, and how your rise to fame was becoming both an inconvenience, and a bit of an issue. Problems that… just about everyone has dealt with one way or another.
Your coffee didn't taste quite right, you felt exhausted despite having only walked a bit, and your social battery was just about to hit its limit. The air was just a tad too cold for the clothes you were wearing, you had a strong desire to crawl into bed and sleep like you had nothing else to worry about, and really — besides yourself and making a few dumb mistakes, the only thing you really had to worry about here was getting mugged. Maybe even jumped, at a push.
Yet, such things got a light, airy laugh out of you. You felt so at ease by yourself, and during the most dangerous hours of the night, no less. Despite everything, you couldn't help but find a bit of humor in it, and such a little thing even made you feel better. That uncomfortable heat in your chest dying down, and almost going away entirely as you cooled off.
As funny as it was, you felt safer and so much more at ease without the person that was so adamant about wanting to do all of these things, to protect you. How could you not laugh at the irony?
Suddenly, the bitter taste on your tongue didn't feel so bad anymore.
Walking along Gotham streets when it was so quiet still made you feel a bit uneasy, but for the time being you were able to find some small peace with it. After all, who knew when you'd get another breather like this? Especially with whatever business Dick had with you. Vigilante and hero work wasn't exactly known to be light and easy, after all. 
So, you took this moment as it is. Finding odd little details in the night that helped you relax as much as you could before things continued.
Honestly, you didn't think you were ready for whatever Dick was about to talk about or mention, but you doubt any of it could surprise you. After all, in a city where a villain breaking out of the local prison or asylum every now and again during the week was normal, it was hard to be surprised by things related to such occurrences. Since, it even felt like someone was trying to blow up the place at least twice a month, and robberies were so common that it was a wonder that anyone had any fortune left to protect at all.
Though it did still make you curious about what’s going on. 
Obviously, it couldn't be any good, but it just seems too… quiet to be anyone that Gotham had already seen before. Seeing as the usual villains and whatnot always made some kind of mess, or made things as extravagant and entertaining as possible. Almost like a certain clown that loved to try and run circles around a certain bat.
Regardless of that, however, you were still more curious about why Dick — or any of the others, really — had bothered to seek you out at all. Sure, the first thing that came to mind was that they need you for something, rather that be for help or something else entirely, but that's only because it made the most sense to you. Why else would they try to find out where you live? You couldn't think of another reason. Though, again, maybe that was because they had ignored you for so long? Even then, you can't think of anything else. 
Besides help and such, nothing else made any logical sense to you. There is no other reason. There couldn't be, and if there is — you couldn't think of it. They couldn't just be here for you. They almost weren't capable of it. You're sure, since they have made it very clear a long time ago. You were just too naive and blind to see it at first, but now you did, and you don't plan on becoming blind to that again…
Nevertheless, you continue on your little path.
Now that Dick wasn't with you, your journey to the park was short, and much more peaceful and quiet. It was almost calm in an odd way, but you appreciated it all the same.
The park held that strange feeling of abandonment and emptiness that most of Gotham seemed to have tonight — thanks to whatever was going on — but you manage to ignore it for the most part. Making your way around the park, your pace was slower and your breath was a bit heavier. You felt like you were prolonging the inevitable, and such a feeling spawned so much dread that you almost choked on it. However, you manage, and instead try to find a good place to sit and wait for the time being.
Sure, it would be easy to leave and just go on with your night, but you did want to stay true to your word even if only a little. It's the least you could do, since this would be the last thing you'd ever do for any of them, anyway. 
Besides, you were better than them in that way — following through with what you said, instead of saying a ‘maybe’ that'll never come, or a ‘next time’ that'll never arrive. Always stuck to a tomorrow that was always just out of reach.
Your words held meaning, unlike theirs.
Moving on, you eventually found a good spot. It was closer to the center of the park, and the moon could be seen as clearly as it could be with all of the clouds passing by, and building up. The air had an odd moist and damp feeling to it, and it made you think that it might rain after all, seeing as you remember hearing something about it earlier in the day. Yet, that just gave you all the more reason to hope that this whole thing would be wrapped up soon. Though whether that happened with Dick not showing up, or him making good time and keeping things short and simple, you didn't care.
Even if you did hope that he just wouldn't show. For both his sake, and your own.
Settling down on a park bench off to the side of the path, you took a big breath, before letting it all out. You still don't have a good feeling about this, but you'd take all the little victories you could. Since, you managed to avoid going to the manor and clock tower by some miracle, and even got Dick to leave you alone for a little while. Even if a small part of yourself did wish that you had pissed him off enough for him to leave you alone, you wouldn't count on it. He seemed oddly stubborn about sticking around, or to at least keep you around him, and though it made you feel uncomfortable, it unfortunately meant that there was a chance that he'd actually show up again.
You'd pray if you had any faith left, but you don't. Not at the moment, and certainly not with that possibility hanging over your head, just waiting to drop and crush you under its weight. Though for now, you'd try to not think about it as you look around, taking in the dark scenery instead.
The darkness of the night shaded over the park in an ominous, beautiful way. With the trees looming over you, and their leaves providing more shade than necessary. As if trying to protect you from the moon's stare as much as they could. The clouds slowly crawled over the sky, waiting for the perfect opportunity to drop all they were carrying — and leave the burden for Gotham to hold. They covered what could be made out of the blank, pitch black void that was the night sky, with the moon trying its hardest to shine through. To take a glimpse of the chaos below, and judge you in its silence.
A loose breeze drifts by, causing you to shiver thanks to its added chill over the night's natural coolness. The sounds of nature were hardly audible, as if even the insects have been silenced by whatever is going on, and the only thing you could hear was that constant, sickening snapping and cracking of broken bones, and that popping from joints getting dislocated. Even if such noises were much fainter now, thanks to the spot you've chosen, they still managed to reach you here, and dominate all other noises that tried to make themselves known, with its echo.
You could only sympathize with their desperation to be heard, to be noticed — only for the violence to cover all of their efforts. Maybe you'd even pity them, but you already felt foolish over your emotions, and feeling sympathy over noises was silly enough. You have already made enough humorous and dumb choices tonight, so you'd at least try to not make another. Even if you bothering to actually wait here, instead of leaving right away, is dumb enough.
You don't know if it was hilarious or sad how many stupid choices you’re making in one night, and all because of the people you are trying to leave behind. People you were so sure would never bother to look for you or even give you a single thought, and yet here you are now. Waiting for one of them to show up – only because suddenly he couldn't leave you alone. Almost like he couldn't afford to, and now you couldn't help but debate over the humor and sadness of that.
Of course it had to be now, it had to be tonight, that one of them showed up - but you don't know what exactly you're expecting. After all, if one of them were to try and show their face to you despite everything, it would be at the worst time possible. It felt fitting in an odd way, so maybe it was only right that things went down like this. That life throw one of the biggest ‘fuck you's it could at you, during a time where you are trying to recover. To heal. To get better.
Of course he just had to show his face when you were done with him — with them, and their whole family. It had to be now, when you're trying to move on, did an effort have to be made. It couldn't be while you were in the manor - when you were trying to do the same.
… Maybe you should've let him bust open the door to your apartment after all, and just ran away while you still had the chance. 
Yet, as if knowing you were thinking of walking away while he still wasn't around, Dick finally appeared and made himself known with a little whistle.
You turn your head and face him, his appearance almost making you laugh, but you didn't have it in you to do so. Much too exhausted and fatigued to even try, and your feelings were too mixed up to even consider the thought. Though you did have to admit, he did look a little funny.
Dick almost looked out of breath, but he still manages a smile when you turn to look at him. The clothes he wore looked strangely baggy, and you could've sworn that you saw the smallest glimpses of various price tags that were tucked away sloppily. Which made it look like he really was in a rush, and… well, you didn't know how to feel about that. Yet, in that same moment, you caught the tiniest bit of his suit right under the shirt he wore. Further ‘hinting’ at the fact that Dick had been in such a hurry that he didn't actually bother to change, and instead opted to cover up his suit.
His mask was off, at least, and for a moment you wondered where he put it until you noticed him subtly stuffing something in his pocket. Which is funny as it is concerning.
Dick wore an oversized coat that he left open, with a collar shirt underneath that had two of the buttons unbuttoned, along with sweatpants and shoes that didn't quite look his size. All in all, he looked like a mess, but Wayne's look good in everything for a reason, you suppose.
“Made it just in time! I told you I would, didn't I?” Dick chuckles, still holding onto the coffee you had given him earlier with one hand. The smile on his face quickly grew into a playful smirk, and you didn't know if you should find it weird or oddly scary how much closer he seems to be to the side of him you've only seen at a distance before. The side you have seen at galas or with his family, occasionally. A side you didn't have any personal experience with until now, and the dread you felt from before only grew at that.
“Um, no, you didn't-” You try to point out, only for him to cut you off.
“Well, it probably just slipped my mind, but I'm here now!” He muses, and you can’t help but find his tone off putting considering how things ended off a few minutes ago. He both looks and sounds way too happy for someone who was so annoyed with you before. 
“I didn't keep you waiting, did I?” Dick steps closer, making his way over to you casually. Not a single trace of his previous demeanor could be found.
You can't help but move a little further away, and bite your tongue. You hoped he would've, that he did, but unfortunately he did make good time. Since, from the moment you sat down, Dick appeared only a minute after, and had it not been for his messy outfit, you would've thought that he had planned this whole thing out — down to the very last second.
“No…” You drag on, looking away once again, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice.
Yet, despite the implications of it, Dick couldn't help but find it… cute, in an odd way. Causing him to exhale softly, his smirk dying back down into a smile. Blue hues shining as they look down at you.
He moves to sit down on the bench — noticing a spot next to you, but deciding to sit beside you instead. Still remaining close, but not getting in your space entirely, since he felt like you both weren't at that point just yet. There was an armrest between the both of you, and he felt as if that'd be enough for now. Even if he did want to move closer, he decides that this was the least he could do for having been ignoring your discomfort and clear nervousness thus far. 
While he still couldn’t fully bring himself to acknowledge or accept it — since he still doesn't want to think about it — he at least wants to try and do this small thing for you.
Though, the space between you and him would never be big enough for you to be comfortable. Since just knowing he was around, and that you were in his space, already made you feel a certain way, but he didn't have to know that. Not that you would tell him, anyway.
Dick took this little opportunity to take a slow, long sip of his coffee. The drink not quite to his liking, but he wouldn't complain since you seem to like that little diner, and the last thing he wants is for your opinion of him to get worse, so he kept his mouth shut. Besides, it wasn't even that bad anyway, especially knowing that it came from a place that you enjoy going to.
Silence was quick to fall over the both of you again. Yet, this time, Dick didn't exactly have a problem with it.
Even if you weren't looking at him, he could still see that little twinkle in your eyes that the faint bits of moonlight were able to show and make clear. How your hair matched you just right, and the way you did it and took care of it completed your look even more. Along with how even the little things on your person said so much, yet so little, about who you are now. About who you have become after all this time. 
A sense of endearment and sentimentality suddenly washes over Dick, and he can't help but feel as if it were just yesterday that you were introduced to the whole family. Though he still couldn't quite describe the look in your eyes then, as there was an unmistakable hint of excitement and unfounded joy that lingered when you first met them all. When you first met him. 
You were such a little thing back then, and you have grown so much since. Dick still can't help but think about it even as he finally pulls the cup away from his lips, and sighs, content.
You were so small, and little. Your face round and youthful, hands soft and delicate - just like everything about you at the time. The world and the people in it were still so new to you, and you looked just about ready to explore it all. To see every little thing you could, and learn about everything that you found. ‘Wonder’ was the first word he thought of when he saw you that day, and looked at your expression. It was full of that child wonderment. 
Yet… look at you now. Grown, and significantly taller than you were before. Face matured and settled, but still did have a youthful look to it. He notes how your hands did seem to be a bit rougher, and instead of delicacy, he found a gentleness that was always there — but is more prominent now. That look of wonder gone, and now replaced with something more. Something complicated and complex in nature, and yet simple all the same. There's a sense of turmoil but… he couldn't look much deeper than that. He can't bring himself to.
Point is, you have clearly changed. 
Sure, he noted how you looked different and everything before, but now that same conclusion felt different in a strange way. Though maybe that was because he wasn't only looking at you now, but seeing you as well.
Dick doesn't just see the change in your clothes, and how your voice has changed its tempo and volume, but some other things as well. Maybe that's because he's able to connect some things he's learned about you over the course of the entire day, back to you and how you showed yourself now. How those details presented themselves in your appearance and mannerisms.
It’s a lot to take in, sure, but in this moment of silence - Dick found himself slowly absorbing all of this information, taking it all in and finding ways to love you through it. Even if the changes made a particular fact all the more clear — despite the time he has missed, he did genuinely love the person you have become. He does now, at least. 
Despite everything he has done to you, or lack thereof, you have managed so much on your own. Despite him and the family not being around when they could've, when they should've, you managed to pave your own path and face all the challenges it brought by yourself - from what Dick could tell anyway. Even if he wasn't fully aware of all you have gone through in his absence, and he knew that as well – you’re still here. You're sitting beside him, looking at the scenery of the park, coffee cup in hand, and just… living in this moment with him.
Dick didn't know when such small things made him feel so happy or content, but in this moment, with you, it's like all he could feel was happy and put together, in a weird way. He doesn't know how to describe it, but now that he's here with you, in your space and presence, he feels… whole. Complete. Like all the missing pieces he didn't even notice were gone, all fell into place when you were around. With you here with him, he feels the happiest he's been in a long while, and he couldn't even begin to explain why.
He's only really known you for a day, but it already felt like he's spent a lifetime with you.
“Hey… Y/n?” He spoke up, breaking the silence between the both of you, looking back at the coffee cup in his hands. “I just want to say that… I'm happy you're here, and that you let me see you.” He begins, slowly looking back at you, an easy but pleasant smile on his face. It was easily the most natural one he's shown you tonight, and his clear unannounced happiness, no matter how light, made the pit in your stomach grow deeper and wider.
Why is he looking at you like that? And why did it hurt to see it now? Why did it relight the fire in your chest, and make it burn - the flames barely tickling your chest from the inside? Why did you feel like this? What did you do to cause him to wear such a smile?
Why now? What was going on?
“I know we haven't talked much, or really hung out, but this… this is nice for what it's worth, and I'm happy that I get the chance to spend this time with you despite everything.” The small bits of moonlight shined in his eyes, almost making Dick appear better than he was. More friendly, charming, and brighter than you saw him as. You couldn't stand the sight. Your dread growing much too big for you to keep looking at him.
So, you look away. Hoping that Dick would get whatever kind of message you were trying to send - and yet, even if he saw it, he didn't bother to decipher it. Words tumbling out of his mouth before he could think them over, too deep in his own feelings to see yours. Though he doesn't seem to mind as he said the words that began to fill his heart, and let them out into the open air. The wind whisking them away, and shoving them into your ears.
“You… mean a lot to me, and I know that, again, we haven’t really done much together, or really spent the most time together either, but- you matter to me. You’re important to me, and I’m sorry that was never made clear before.” He blurts out, heart aching and swelling at his own words, but Dick just couldn’t help himself. He feels like he needs to say something, to say this, and he doesn't want to have to wait any longer to say it. Even if you don’t like him or saw him a certain way, he wants to at least say this. To tell you his truth - his new truth. A truth that is becoming more clear to him as the seconds pass. Seconds he spent with you. “I know that I’ve messed up- a lot, and I know that it isn’t just me that made things turn out like this, but I at least want to let you know that I do care about you. I just…” Dick ran a hand through his hair, pausing for a moment as countless words he wanted to say float around in his head, but he just didn't know how to say them. Or even say them in a way that would get you to understand, or at least hear him out.
He looks away for a moment before looking back at you. Hand dropping and folding around his cup once again. “I’m sorry, for everything. For missing your concerts and performances, and just- everything. I should’ve been there, and even if I was busy, that isn’t an excuse. I should’ve made time for you, I could’ve, and yet it just always slipped my mind and… I should’ve never done that to you. You didn’t- you don’t deserve to go through that, you didn’t have to, and yet you did, and I’m just.. so sorry that now is the time that I’m realizing this. You… you deserve so much more than what we gave you, and I’m sorry if that made you feel any less than what you are- because you are amazing, and wonderful, and bright-!”
“You’re.. you’re a lot of things, and I really couldn’t list them all since I’m still slowly seeing it all for myself. Though even then, we’d be here for a while… wouldn’t we?” Dick chuckles lightly, a tinge of endearment in his tone, with a hint of a softness that was slowly becoming more and more apparent as he went on. His expression softened even more, and yet all you could feel was dread and anger that grew with each sentence that fell out of his mouth.
Was he messing with you? Was Dick trying to make himself feel better about everything, or just mess you up even more? Maybe both?
Why was he saying all of this now? Why tonight? Why now of all times? His words… they couldn’t be true. They can’t be. If they were, if they are – then why did he wait so long? How come he didn’t realize anything sooner? Why couldn’t he realize it sooner? Why now? Why right this minute, when you were almost ready to let go?
Why is he trying to give you hope over a future, a dream, a wish you never thought would come true? That they, indirectly or not, made you believe would never be made into a reality? No matter how much you did, and sacrificed for them behind the scenes? Was he trying to trick you? Did he really believe that you’d allow yourself to become blind again? That you could actually take the little words that he’s saying to you at face value, after all this time? After all of your wasted effort?
Did he really think that he could salvage what little remained of your nonexistent relationship with him, with just a few words and soft smiles? That you would just suddenly be willing to let him back into your life, after you spent the last year or so just trying to make it so that once you left, you’d never have to turn back? After everything he and the others put you through?
You understood that they were busy. That protecting Gotham and Bludhaven were more important to them than you’d ever be. That they care more about their work and their own lives than they never will about anything you’d try to say to them - you understood that well. It was almost impossible not too with how long you’ve had to deal with it, and come to terms with everything over the few months you’ve given yourself to truly soak everything in and reflect. The one time you gave yourself a breather to process all that's happened over the years you wasted on them, and think about how you are going to move forward in your life. How you’re going to deal with the family moving forward, or if you’d ever bother to deal with them at all. Though, you're still in that process, and had yet to really think about what you’d do moving forward.
Yet, Dick just had to show up while you were in that process. He just had to show his face after so long, and do this to you. Torment you with his words, and cause further conflict inside of you that you don’t need. Causing more heartache and pain that you didn’t want, and yet he just had to keep going, he had to keep talking. He couldn’t just walk away again like he had all of those other times when you were fighting to spend time with him, to just mean something to him. Dick just had to show up, and lie to your face about this. He just had to finally notice you, and hurt you more.
“I’m… I’m just really glad I got to see you is all I’m trying to say, I guess. And that I missed you too, in all honesty.”
So he keeps going, it seems. He just has to say that, like you’d believe him. Like you’d truly think that he cared about you more than the criminals in Gotham did. Like he wasn’t just lying to your face in an attempt to try and hurt you more. To crush what little part of your heart you still had given to them, and destroy it entirely. 
Honestly, now it was like he's trying to get you to hate him. To rid of the memories where you used to look up to him, and really tried to see him as your older brother until the reality of it all crushed you. Until reality forced your eyes open, and made you realize the little you had, and the little he cared.
Your own anger was beginning to blind you, and your hatred grew within you - though you hardly found a part of yourself that cared anymore. 
Even if Dick’s words are true to him, they aren't to you, and that’s all you cared about. Since, as far as you know, they were never true until he suddenly felt bad, and this whole thing started.
However, you still try to remain civil. Just taking in a breath, and sighing before looking back at Dick. Exhaustion becoming more evident, anger and hatred beginning to bloom – but you manage to tuck it away for now. No matter how frustrated Dick makes you, you could keep your composer. You could keep yourself together, and by God would you try no matter how much you want to just get up and leave. No matter how much you want to think that he wasn’t worth the time or energy. At least, not anymore.
“Dick, just tell me why you’re here.” You say, getting straight to the point and seemingly completely ignoring what he said before. Not taking his words to heart, no matter how much they sting and add fuel to the flame growing in your chest. 
Dick looks at you confused, a little taken aback by your response, but just pushes it to the side. Only raising a brow, managing to keep up his smile, “What do you mean? I told you already, silly.” He chuckles a bit, his words already pinching at your skin.
“I’m here to see you.”
‘Bullshit.’ You immediately thought, but don’t say out loud. Not yet, anyway.
“It’s obvious that something’s going on, I mean- do you hear the sounds echoing throughout Gotham? Or, hell, how quiet it is besides said noises?” You ask, tone shifting with every word that spilled out of your mouth, undertone unclear, but Dick didn’t like it. “You don’t have to explain what’s going on, but please, just tell me how or if I can help so that we can both go on with our nights? I know you don’t have time for this. Both of us don’t.” 
Dick can only furrow his brows in response, his confusion growing the more you spoke, but also worried about the tone you’re using with him. A tone that was growing increasingly harsh.
“What are you talking about? I never said I needed your help with anything, and didn’t I already mention that the others are handling the situation?” Dick said, genuinely confused, and yet that only seems to make the flame in your chest burn brighter.
“Then what are you doing here? Why are we even talking right now if you don’t need anything from me?” You ask, voice rising in volume a bit before you bring it back down. The little stings Dick’s words left on your skin turning into a grip around your heart. 
“I’ve already told you, Y/n…. I just wanted to see you.” Dick said again, growing a little more worried now.
“Yes, but why? What made you want to see me so badly that you even went out of your way to find out where I live?” You couldn’t help but ask, frustration growing but so did your desperation. Over what, you don’t know, but all you knew was that you want this to be over. You want to go home. You want to be away from Dick. From them.
Even if your home probably wouldn’t feel as safe anymore now that they knew where it is, and you knew that too, but couldn't find it in yourself to care. Anywhere that wasn't in the immediate vicinity of Dick felt better than being here, with him at arm's length.
“I need a reason to see my younger sibling now? I can’t just come visit them?” Dick asks, still worried and confused, yes, but an odd tone of sarcasm seemed to develop under his tongue.
“After months of no contact? After all that’s happened?” You say as a meaningless, humorless laugh escapes you before your voice drops and cements itself, “Yes. Yes you do, because you’ve never visited me before. You’ve never gone out of your way like this, not even to see me in my own room. So why now? Why tonight? Why come see me?”
Your words stung Dick, and you can tell with how he flinches a bit at your words, if only for a brief moment. He even cringes a little, as if they have physically hurt him, but you didn’t react much. You want to know why, because it made no sense to you, and by God did you deserve an answer.
There is no reason why he should’ve come to see you, none. You aren’t related to him, and even if you are by law, he’s never treated you like family in the past - just someone else who lives in the manor, but over time you began to believe that he started to forget that too, with how he’d grow increasingly surprised by seeing you in person when he'd occasionally visit.
You meant nothing to him, last you checked. So what was so important that he and the others needed to find out where you live, and seek you out like this? What was going on?
From how you look at Dick, he can tell you wanted to know. That you want a ‘real’ answer, one that you’d accept, anyway. Along with the fact that you aren’t going to take your words back, finding them to be nothing less than true, and even if they are, they don’t hurt any less. Especially considering how far he’s come today. How much he’s seen, and how his view is beginning to change. How you were growing on him without even knowing it, making him realize that some of it isn’t even you to begin with. Though there wasn’t much he could do about that, not right now. Not with you getting worked up like this, and not with how he's beginning to hurt too.
The truth hurt, it almost always did. Never sparing anyone, and almost acting as a sword rather than weight. A dagger than another page, but paper cuts did exist for a reason – he supposes.
“I.. I know that it might seem hard to believe, considering everything, but that really is all there is to it.” Dick says, trying to explain as he clutches onto the coffee cup in his hands, “I just want to see you because I was worried, and I… I just wanted to make sure you were okay. That’s all.”
“Then what about the others? Why find out where I live? What’s with all the noise?” Your desperation was becoming a little clearer as you spoke quickly, the questions falling out of your mouth as your heart began to squeeze tightly. The smoke that the fire in your chest was creating, started to reach and fill your lungs little by little with each passing second.
“The others are busy taking care of the city, and how else am I supposed to see you? You weren’t answering any of my or Tim’s calls or texts. We…” Dick drags on a little before just sighing, looking dejected, “I was worried about you- I am worried about you. I thought something happened, and I had to know if something did. Is that so wrong? Can I not check on my younger siblings anymore?”
“That's not what I meant, and you know that.” You point out straight away, but did falter the slightest bit when he mentions how you were ignoring them trying to contact you earlier. However, you didn't back down. “And both of you just started contacting me today. I didn't have any time to answer either of you before you showed up at my door.”
“Really? You had absolutely no time at all to pick up the phone? Not even send a quick message, or even read our texts?”
“I was busy? And was doing something else, so I couldn't get to the phone right away.”
“For several hours? Y/n, you've got to be kidding me.” Dick chuckles out, obviously not believing you, which ticks you off even more.
“What, so I can't do other things? I have to be at your every beck and call, now?” You scoff, rolling your eyes. “None of you have ever contacted me first, so I'm sorry that I didn't have any time to respond to whatever you both had to say. I have my own life to deal with, you do know that, right?”
“That's not what I-” Dick cuts himself off, just letting out a sigh before speaking again after thinking over how to reword what he wants to say, “Look, just- what was so important that made it so you couldn't answer the phone?” He asks instead, searching your expression for something, and furrowing his brows when he couldn't find it.
“... That's none of your business.” You answer instead, narrowing your eyes at him a little. Whatever you did in your life, he didn't have to know. He doesn't have the right to know, not anymore. You may have been willing to offer him this one chance to ask something from you to help with whatever is going on, but that was all, and where your generosity ended. It wasn't a chance to reconnect, or to rebuild what never was, and still isn't. 
If there's anything that this whole situation has told you, it's that you shouldn't have tried in the first place - and that maybe, just maybe, you should've left sooner. That was clear to you now. 
“...” It's like Dick could tell things were getting worse this way. He didn't know what was causing it or how, but he could feel it. Especially with how you were growing increasingly upset, and how he was as well. 
So, he tried to settle down a little and just took a breath. At this rate, he could only dread how things would get, and so he at least tried to change the direction of things a bit. Yet, he still couldn't help himself either. Maybe he didn't deserve to know, but he did want to ask. 
“Look, just-” he tries to find the words to say, to not make this whole thing worse than it already is, and settles on a simpler question. One he figures you can handle, one he hopes does what he wants it to do. “Can you at least tell me why you keep ignoring me when I say that I'm here to see you? Or at least why you just… brush it off?” Dick manages to say, eyes never once leaving you, but for a different reason this time.
He just wants you to open up, but how could you do that when he kept you out for so long? When he locked that door so long ago, and forgot where he left the key? Leaving him to never know of the chair you left right under the handle.
“... What do you-”
“You know what I'm talking about, Y/n, just… please.” Dick almost pleads, which makes you uncomfortable. Causing you to press your lips into a thin line once again, “I don't want this to…” he doesn't want to say it outloud. He couldn't bring himself to. Especially when he doesn't want it to be true. To be made into reality.
“I just want to know, Y/n. So please, just tell me? Because I don't understand why you keep avoiding it, or just don't acknowledge it at all.” Dick says instead, which causes you to grow quiet in the process. 
“...”
You couldn't think of anything to say, just being able to look at him before glancing away and taking in a breath of your own. You couldn't bring yourself to answer the question because - what were you supposed to say? What are you supposed to say? The truth? Or make up a lie? Though even if you picked one or the other, would it be for yourself? Or for Dick?
You didn't know, and a special kind of uncertainty came with that, jabbing your gut and making the flame within you crackle harshly. You hate this. You hate this more than what their inaction did to you, and almost as much as the realization that it's because of them that you're in this position to begin with.
“Why do you think?” You begin, emotions and thoughts swarming in your head and squeezing your heart. You want to not care, to brush it all off as you have before, but only find yourself hurting despite everything. Why does your chest hurt so much? Why did it feel like something was pressing against it, threatening to pierce it? “Why do you think that I'm ‘ignoring’ it or just… dismiss it?”
Dick hates how you look away, and the swirl of emotion he saw in your eyes when you looked at him before. Which only made his own emotions grow like a heavy weight, threatening to fall on him. To crush him, and only leave the tiniest parts of himself behind. Parts that still hung onto that false hope he made himself.
He knew, or at least had an idea, but he ignored it. Dick wants to hear it from you, even if he doesn't know what he's hoping for with that. He knows of his faults, and yet not the entirety of them - at least, that was the impression he was getting from all of this.
He isn't blind, but there are only so many things he could let himself see before the ugliness of it all rears its head at him, and snarls. Before the quiet part that he refuses to glance at, becomes loud.
“I… I don't know,” Dick manages to say after a moment, still looking at you as he searches for something, anything that will point things in a different direction. Something that will give the little hope he has anything to cling on to.
Something he doesn't find.
He takes in another breath, “Can you please just… tell me? I do want to know, I really do- so just, please. Tell me why you keep ignoring what I'm saying?”
“I'm not-” You cut yourself off, speaking before you could come up with a response, the words tumbling out of your mouth quickly before you caught yourself and take in a slow, uneven breath. “I'm not ignoring what you're saying. I'm not, but- just…” You drag on before finally letting out a sigh. Some of the tension freeing itself from your body, but not enough for it to let you truly calm down or relax. 
“What do you expect me to do? To say?” You finally manage to voice it outloud, to ask as you look back at Dick briefly. With the moon trying its hardest to peek through the clouds as they begin to fill and crowd the sky. “You haven't checked up on me in all the years I was in the manor, and, hell, I doubt you even know where my room is-”
“I know where it is.”
“- and even if you do, that doesn't change what happened. Or, really, what didn't.” You narrow your eyes at Dick's sudden words, but don't comment on them as you continue, voice wavering slightly, “You've… never checked up on me before, or even asked me if I was okay- we barely even greeted each other, and I didn't see you around all that often. I didn't get to. So I'm sorry if it's hard for me to believe that you just suddenly care, or want to check up on me after all this time.” You say, still biting your tongue and holding yourself back from sharing more than you should. From giving more than you already have.
“...” Dick's lips press into a thin line before he goes to speak again, “I understand that, but… why can't that change now? Why can't I care about you now?” 
“It isn't about what you can and can't do, Dick. Nor what can be changed now or not, it's…” A quick, small groan escapes you as you try to gather the words you want to say, and finally let them out when you do, “it's what I'm used to, Dick. That's just how it is.”
Finally, dread made its way into Dick’s heart as well, “So… that's it? You're just ‘used to it’? And I can't change that?”
“I don’t know, can you?” You asked sarcastically in a dead tone, already tired of all of this, and yet the fire in your chest continues to burn ever so brightly. “You haven’t really done a good job of that thus far, if that's what you’re trying to do. I’ll say that much.” Your words hurt, you could tell right away. The way he looked at you said everything, but you didn’t try to look deeper than what presented itself on the surface. 
“This isn’t some kind of…. ‘reconnecting session’, stuff like that doesn’t really matter. I thought something serious- something important was going on, or had happened, that’s why I bothered with… all of this.” You point out and explain, only watching as the expression on Dick’s face morphed into something else. Something you couldn’t decipher, but didn’t like looking at. A face that made your stomach twist, with dread pouring out of every crevasse it could manage.
“And why would you think that? I don’t remember saying anything that would hint at that, and even then I would’ve said it outright.”
“You suddenly appeared at my door in the suit, and at some point was banging on it. How could I not think something was going on? Or that you didn’t need something from me? That something serious wasn’t happening? Especially when I don’t remember telling any of you where I live-”
“Okay, okay. I… I get it,” He didn’t, at least maybe not to the extent one would hope he would, but he didn’t want to argue. Not here, and not with you. Especially not when he was really beginning to see you. “But still… I want to change that. I want to make it up to you and fix things. Is that so bad?”
“...” You had no response to that, but even if you did, what could you say? You had imagined countless instances like this, but those situations weren’t real — this one was. In those scenarios, you always had something to say, rather it be good or bad, and you always knew what to do. Yet here, now that it was actually happening, you had nothing. You didn’t know what to do or say, and even if you did have some things you wanted to just let spill out, you kept them in. You didn’t want things to get worse either, but the more Dick talked, the harder that became.
Why couldn’t he just be the person from your thoughts and dreams? The person you always saw him as until now?
“I just…” Dick tries to gather his thoughts, not exactly liking your silence but trying to push on anyway. He finally had a chance, and he’d be damned to not take it. “I want to make things right, and yeah, maybe it's late- really, um, late, but I still want to try.” He manages to say, taking a small, quick breath before he continues, an easy smile trying to settle on his face.
“You deserve better, and I want to be better for you. Things may not be the same, and sure, it might be a bit awkward-” He chuckles slightly in between his words, “-but I think that we can… work it out if you just give it a try. Give me a chance-”
“But I did.” You manage to say, cutting Dick off. He has to fight for his smile to not falter immediately, unaware of how your heart pounded harshly in your chest, the fire it held growing and clawing at the bars of its cage that was your ribs and flesh. Scorching your lungs, and the smoke causing your throat to close, making it harder to breathe.
“... What?” Dick said, partially confused but still trying to at least seem optimistic. A weight of its own beginning to press down on him.
“... What do you think I did all of this time?” You ask, looking away for a moment, glancing up at the covered moon before looking back at Dick, “What do you think I did all of those years I spent at the manor? Before I decided to move out, and be on my own?” 
“...” Dick didn’t have an answer, not one he said right away, anyway. Not one that wouldn’t make him look bad, but he didn’t know what was worse. Staying quiet when he knew a part of it, or saying the part he knew and risk being wrong, revealing how he still didn’t know the full picture despite everything. Despite getting a glance into a life he knew he wasn’t involved in, and feeling more guilty all the while.
However, you decide that his small bit of silence was enough of an answer, and just as Dick opened his mouth to say something, you spoke again. “Most of my time in the manor I’ve spent trying to give you chances- to give the others a chance. Trying to give opportunities to just do something, try anything, and… well,” You look away fully this time, caressing the coffee cup in your hand, it’s dying warm doing little to help you, causing you to draw your attention to the shaded greenery of the park instead.
“We both know how that turned out.”
If your words didn’t hurt him before, they definitely did now. Even as Dick fought to keep that smile of his up, it was pointless. You were right, and he knew that. Even if he didn’t know the true extent of your words, he was at least aware of the times where you’d try to get them to see you perform, to hear your songs and listen to your music that had gotten you this far. He knew that much, and yet he still couldn’t help but try. He wants to mean more to you, to do what he hasn’t done up until this point, to truly be your older brother, to be your family - despite how long he’s been unable to do that.
“I… I know, and I’m sorry.” Dick could only say that much, even if it did little in the long run, and a part of himself could tell that his words only made whatever you were feeling worse as you inched away from him, the sight of the small action breaking his heart even more.
“Maybe that doesn’t mean much, but it’s true. I’m just… sorry that things turned out this way. That we- that I never noticed how hard you were trying until now, and even if it is late, I want to be honest and say that I’m sorry.” He adds, finally managing to look away as well as he looked down at the cup in his hands, thoughts swarming and eating away at his heart. Even if they were going too fast for him to process them all, they hurt him all the same and caused his worry to grow. “I’m sorry for everything, for never noticing what was going on or the extent of it, or appreciating the effort you tried to put in for our attention, for just not… being around. You deserve better- and I want to give that. I want to give you want you deserve and finally be-”
“Stop.” You said under your breath, voice wavering as you take in a shaky breath. Yet, even as it falls upon deaf ears, and Dick couldn’t make out exactly what you said, he still pauses for a moment before speaking again.
“... I just want to fix things, Y/n.” Dick says instead, but it doesn’t make you feel any better, nothing does. 
“You mean a lot to me.” You just want him to stop. 
“And maybe that’s… weird to hear with everything that’s happened. But it is true, and I’m sorry I never made that clear before.” You want him to stop lying to you, to stop trying to make you feel better. You’ve been doing fine on your own without him, without them, and so the only thing you wanted now was for Dick to stop and leave. To act like he had before, and go back to ignoring you.
“So… let’s change that, okay? I… I want to spend more time with you.” You want him to shut up. You want it so bad that it hurts to hear him talk as he goes on and on. His voice ringing in your ears to a point you’re convinced that they’ll bleed if this continues on for any longer. If he continues to talk for any longer. 
“I’m being honest, I really want to try and be your-”
“Stop… please, just- just stop.” You manage to say, voice small and wavering as you try to take in another breath. You want to be unbothered, unhurt, painless, and numb, but you can’t and you don’t know why. You thought you had gotten used to this, and you had, but to hear that - to hear the words you’ve wanted to hear for so many years - that hurt more than anything else. The pain was indescribable, and its result only made that fire grow, the flames scratching at your chest even harder, and your heart bleeding as a result.
Suddenly, all the progress you’ve made over all the months you’ve been away feel useless now. Reduced to nothing in Dick’s presence as his words stripped down your walls in the most violent, volatile ways possible.
Once upon a time, you fought to have a single conversation with him that lasted more than just a few short exchanges, and now you’d do anything to have that back. For him to go back to the Dick you grew up with, the one you fought to even have to look at you for more than a few seconds.
“You can’t do this to me.” You said without thinking, voice weak and shaky as you scramble to keep yourself together, to hold back tears that you refuse to spill – refusing to shed any more over them. Refusing to let all of your progress go to waste just like that.
You were happy, you have been happy these past few months, and you refuse for that to be taken away from you.
“What? Y/n, what do you mean-” Dick tries to speak, but you don’t give him the luxury, not after this. Not after what he’s been doing to you.
“You can’t do this to me,” You repeat, trying to breathe and fight past the smoke building in your lungs, nearly gasping for air as your teeth begin to grind, “you can’t- you just can’t. So stop… please just..” You try to take in another breath, no matter how small it is or strangled it feels.
“Just. Stop.”
“...” It’s like no matter what Dick tries to do, things end up becoming worse, and he hates that he doesn’t know why. He can't understand why. 
Clearly he’s hurting you, he could see that no matter how much he doesn’t want to, but he doesn’t know what he’s saying that’s hurting you. He doesn’t know what he’s doing that’s causing you to become so upset. 
After all, don’t you want this? Don’t you want him to try? For your efforts to be reciprocated? Don’t you want to be family too? For him to try and be what he’s supposed to have been all of this time? Don’t you want him to try and be your big brother? 
You couldn’t have given up yet, right? There was no way you could have. You couldn’t have given up after all you have done, after all the awards and such he saw that you’ve earned over the years – awards that were still in your room. You couldn’t have given up. That's impossible, there’s no way. No one would throw all of that away, right? No one would do all that you have, only to just put it all behind them - not anyone that Dick could think of at the moment.
… He hated how he thought of it anyway. How the thought creeped into his mind, and remained there. Letting his dread and worry grow as reality began to sneak its way into his brain. 
Dick doesn’t want to think about it – let along consider the idea, but this isn’t about him. This isn’t about what he thinks or feels.
This is about you, and despite his words, he hates that he had forgotten that already.
“Y/n,” He calls out to you softly, really trying this time, and you hate that detail with all of your heart, “can you just please tell me what’s wrong?” Dick’s words make you physically pause, even causing your rushing thoughts to come to a halt. They repeat in your head once more, and you can only think one thing.
Is he seriously asking you that?
“I know that you’re upset, but I want to work through this with you. So, just tell me so I can help, okay-?”
“Stop- God, just please stop, Dick.” You manage to say, already getting slightly choked up before you manage to shakily exhale, trying your hardest to keep it together as your heart squeezes and your chest tightens. You can’t bring yourself to look at Dick, but your teeth grind as you scramble to keep the flames eating up your body from the inside, trapped and hidden away.
“You can’t do this to me,” You say more desperately than you wanted to, a few tears developing that you fight back violently to keep them from spilling, your own teeth getting crushed and feel as if they were beginning to chip and break with how hard they’re grinding against each other. “You can’t- you can’t-” You struggle to get the words out, nearly gasping for air as that sickening, thick smoke threatens to escape your lungs.
“You can’t do this to me, you can’t give me hope.” You finally say, voice straining as your breath trembles. When you finally do look at Dick, neither of your expressions are good ones. Both filled with mixes of emotions, but his was more deep and almost controlled, while yours was frantic and ever changing.
“... What?”
“After all of this time, after everything- everything I’ve been put through. Everything I’ve been trying to move on from-” You struggle to breathe momentarily, but manage to get yet another gasp of air before continuing, “you can’t just try and give me hope like that. You can’t. You just- can’t.”
Now it’s Dick’s turn to pause as he processes what you said, each word making the weight in his chest sink deeper and deeper until it reaches his stomach. The very thing he seems to dread is becoming more real with every minute that passes and he hates that more than anything. He wants to ignore it, to push past it, but how can he do that when it’s right in front of him? How can he do that when something worse could be laying underneath everything?
He doesn’t want to think about it, and so he doesn’t and tries to tuck it away as he goes on to say, “But… why? Why can’t I give that to you? Why can’t I try to help you?”
“Dick, please, for the love of god just-” You want to say it, you really do, but manage to hold yourself back with the little self control you have, and simply just take in the biggest breath you can manage, and sigh just as deeply. “Nevermind, and just- you know what? We’re… we’re done here.” You say instead. Placing your coffee cup on the bench, not even caring that you barely finished the drink, and move to stand up.
“What? Wait- what?” Dick asks, sitting up and tensing when you stand, but not making a move just yet, even if it was clear that he’d do something. What, you don’t know, but you didn’t notice anyway as you were too focused on yourself and getting out of this situation.
“We’re done here, what else do I have to say?” You don’t look back at Dick, instead continue to try and steady your breath. Trying to calm yourself down, and finally do something to quell the burning flames inside your chest, “This isn’t going anywhere, and we aren’t discussing anything important, so… let’s call it here. I’m leaving.” You say outright, being blunt this time as you make a move to step away-
Only to be stopped when Dick suddenly grabs your wrist, his grasp a touch too tight.
“Hold on- who said you get to decide that?” Dick asks, having sprung up to grab you as swiftly and quickly as he did, a flash of panic showing on his face before he pushed it aside and swallowed his nerves. He tries to manage another smile, even if it doesn’t reach his eyes yet again, “Let’s just talk about this, okay? There’s no need to overreact.”
“Overreact…?” You glance back at him, physically feeling as all of your previous progress to calm yourself was quickly diminishing, the fire only roaring to life at Dick’s words, and it’s like he could feel it too with how his smile faltered the smallest bit before he tried to pick it up again.
“Okay- maybe not overreact, but we can still talk about this… can’t we?” He says instead, as if realizing his mistake once you point it out. Scrambling for something, anything.
You don’t say anything right away, your chest only hurting even more, “And talk about what, exactly?” You ask, just barely being able to hear the clouds overhead groan in displeasure, “What is there to talk about? We have nothing to discuss, and so we should just end things here.”
An airy laugh escapes Dick, almost as he can’t believe what you’re saying, and yet he continues to stare at you. All he does is raise a brow, his heart pounding as that weight in his stomach drops further, “About… everything?” He says, as if a little unsure of how to word it, but keeps going anyway, “About the family, about us, about you- everything! What isn’t there to talk about?” He counters, furrowing his brows a little.
He knows you want to leave, but he can’t bring himself to let you go. Not when he doesn’t know when he’ll have this chance again. Not when he’s so close – but to what, he doesn’t know anymore. All he knows is that it deals with you, and that’s enough for him.
“... But there isn’t anything important to talk about.” You point out as if it was obvious, raising a brow of your own as you look back at Dick, ignoring how the longer Dick held onto your wrist, the heavier your dread became. Nearly making it impossible to breathe despite how you were trying to act now,  “Again, I even bothered to do any of this because I thought something was going on or that you needed something from me, and I turned out to be wrong, so there’s no other reason for me to be here.” You try to be logical, or seem that way, anyway. You try to give whatever bullshit reason you can, saying anything that you hope would just get Dick away from you and just let you go.
“...” Dick hated your words with a burning passion he didn’t even know he was capable of feeling, and the breathy laugh of disbelief that escaped him only furthered his own change of heart, “So I’m not important to you? Our family isn’t important to you? Because of everything that’s happened? So our effort to change everything isn’t important to you? It matters that little to you now that you’ve lived on your own for… what, a few months?”
“What are you talking about? You’re asking me that as if you know me, and- news flash, you don’t. So get a hold of yourself- and let me go already!” You yank your wrist away from Dick’s grasp, pulling it back towards you harshly.
The moment your wrist leaves his grasp, his hand twitches, but he manages to hold himself back and just let his hand fold into a fist as it falls back to his side. His eyes pinned on you once again, never leaving you, “Why can’t I get to know you now? Why can’t that change, Y/n?” He asks, his own tone changing without him noticing, making it sharper than he meant it to be, “Why can’t you just let me in?”
The visceral hatred those words spawn in you is hotter than words can describe, and felt as if it was burning right through your chest, melting your muscles and organs down to nothing. You not only struggled to breathe, but it hurt to even take in the smallest breath. “‘Why’…? You’re asking me, ‘why’?” A small, airy, pathetic laugh escapes you, a look of disbelief clear on your face.
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe it’s because of the years that have passed? That every attempt I’ve made to do what you’re asking me right now- was ignored until I didn’t try anymore? Until I go off and try to actually live my life, that you ask for me to let you in? For things to change?” You almost spat out, barely managing to take in a steady breath, “I don’t know, Dick. I don’t know what you want me to say.”
Dick could barely pull himself together. Everything was falling apart, and even if he could see that, he could barely get a grasp on his own emotions that he was failing to calm down. He wants you to understand, and he wants to understand you too, but god was everything making it so hard. He just couldn’t understand why you were being so stubborn about this, and why you wouldn’t just hear him out. 
So, in the midst of his own frustration, he tsked and spoke without thinking.
“I haven’t done anything to you! Why are you acting like this?” The moment those words left Dick, his eyes widened and he scrambled to recover, “Wait, I didn’t mean-”
“Isn’t that the point?” You cut Dick off, the smoke finally escaping your lungs as you furrowed your brows, chest tightening as more unwanted tears began to build, “That you did nothing? That you- and everyone else didn’t do a goddamn thing?”
“You try to act like I owe you something. Like I owe you this. Like I owe you my time, but you know what? You really don’t, because back then? I clearly didn’t deserve yours. I wasn’t worth your time, and now, years later, you think that I owe you mine? That you can just say whatever the hell you want to my face, because I dared to try and be respectful and civil and do all of this shit for you?” There was no holding back anymore, not when Dick dared to say something like that to your face when you’ve been trying so hard to act calm and civil around him. To give him a chance to say his piece and leave.
The one time you tried to do something for them, for him, after months of being away from all of them, and he dared to say something like that to you?
“Then think again. Because unlike before, I have some god damn self respect and won’t stand for your bullshit anymore.” You spat out as the sky above growled even louder, “You don’t get to say that to me, Grayson.”
Yet, despite your words, a single measly tear manages to slip past your defenses and slowly, painstakingly roll down your cheek. The clouds above seem to have taken that as some sort of sign, as a few small drops of water fell from the sky and hit the pavement under your feet.
Dick pauses after that, if only for a moment as he looks over your expression before sighing. “Okay- fine, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that… but,” he took a short breath before saying, “that still doesn’t answer my question, Y/n.”
“...” All you could do was stare at him. Another pathetic, airy laugh escaping you all the while. He really was unbelievable.
“Which one? The one where you asked why things can’t change? Why I won’t ‘let you in’? Or why I’m ‘acting like this’?” Dick clenches his hands into fists, squeezing them before he lets go.
“Why can’t things change, why can’t the relationship between us change?” You hate the tone he used and how the look he gave you expressed and showed more than words could describe. A certain desperation in his eyes that you wish didn’t exist, that you didn’t notice.
“You never showed me that it could change. That it would always stay the same as it has for the past few years-”
“But why does back then matter? Why can’t we focus on now? On this?” He gestured between the two of you, “Can’t we just- I don’t know… move on from that?” You didn’t know if you wanted to laugh, or actually allow yourself to cry, especially when a few more raindrops fell from the sky. He couldn’t be serious, could he? Did Dick actually just say that, and to you of all people?
“Move on?” You say, a few more tears spilling despite your efforts to stop them, their touch burning your skin and sinking into it like acid, “You want me to move on from that? Move on from the years of my life that you weren’t a part of? To just forget all that’s happened?”
“You don’t have to forget… maybe just, push it aside so that we can work on this! On us…” Dick says, dragging on a little before he takes in another quick breath, “Is that so bad? Don’t you want to be family-?”
“You don’t get to say that to me.” You immediately cut him off the moment Dick even tries to mention family again, “You don’t get to say what I want or what I have to do- after everything I’ve done for you! For the others-! You don’t get to say that to me anymore!”
“Y/n, please, just calm down-”
“No! You don’t get to do this to me! To say all of this shit to my face-” You struggle to speak, your words catching in your throat and nearly choking you, but you manage to continue. To continue to say your part, and finally say the words your heart has been longing to say, to give yourself this much, to finally feel this out, “Do you even know how much I’ve done for you- all of you? How much time I spent doing all of these things I thought you guys liked just so that I had a chance to hold a conversation with any of you? To just mean something? To actually be part of the family, only for no one to show up-?”
“No one asked you to do those things! No one asked you to do anything!” Dick snaps, but immediately tries to reel it back, “I understand that things didn’t work out before, but I’m here now, aren’t I?”
Your brows furrow even more, and your teeth grind so hard that it feels like they’re chipping away, “No one had to ask! Hell- none of you ended up caring anyway! It was a waste!” You shout, voice raising the more you talked, tears mixing with the drizzling rain, “It was for you- I did everything I could think of to just talk to you, and now you want me to do more for you? After everything I’ve already done? After all the effort that was put to waste because of you?” At this rate, you knew you weren’t talking to just Dick anymore. Instead, he acted as an extension, in your mind. An extension to something bigger, something greater than himself. Something more than he was.
Dick falters, but just sighs again, “No one told you to do all of that,Y/n]. You didn’t have to do anything but just try to-”
“Try to what, Grayson? Try to what?” You cut him off, eyes swirling with untold emotion as your gaze pierces into him, “Go on, tell me what else I had to do. What I should’ve done.”
“...” Dick looks at you for a moment before speaking again with a small huff, “You could’ve tried a different approach, or maybe, talked to us?”
“...” You don’t know what you want to do more; try to strangle Dick, cry harder, or leave again after trying to kill him. “You did not just say that.” You manage to laugh out, but it’s broken and far from genuine. The humor in it long gone, and all that was left was a sickening, uncomfortable emptiness where it once remained. 
“Well, I’m just saying-”
“You did not just say that shit to me when you’ve been the one shooting down every conversation I’ve tried to have with you. You- the person who’s supposed to be the ‘family man’, and we’ve barely even talked. And let me tell you now, I’m not the one who hasn’t been trying to talk or avoiding it.” A pained smile crept up your face as you laughed breathlessly in between your words once more. Not even caring anymore as you let the fire burst from your chest, and have its ashes and smoke spill out of you.
Dick narrows his eyes and furrows his brows a bit, “‘Avoiding it’? What the hell are you talking about? I haven’t been avoiding you-”
“Then please explain where the hell you’ve been all of my life until now? Why you could never follow through with what you’d always tell me? Why you come to me now, when I gave you years to do or say anything?”
“I… I was busy, okay? You know that,” He tried to lighten his tone with a chuckle but it did little to help, and only showed his own strain, “I don’t always have time to come to Gotham-”
“But you make the time to do it anyway. You make time to visit, especially when it comes to Damian.” When Dick falls silent again for a moment, you take in a shaky breath and sniffle slightly, feeling awful in every sense of the word, “I guess I just wasn’t worth it, right? I wasn’t worthy of your oh so precious time, but everyone else was. Something else was.” Your expression darkens slightly as your strained smile drops completely.
“There’s always something else, right? Something else to do, someone else to see. You could make time, alright, but just couldn’t for me.”
“That’s not what I’m saying, Y/n.”
“Then please, enlighten me, what are you saying, Grayson?” Dick hates every time you say that, every time you refer to him by his last name. It feels like there's a deeper meaning to it that he refuses to see, and just hearing you call him that instead of anything else only forces him to remember that. To remind him of his own faults, both past and present.
Maybe he'd wonder how he keeps messing things up or why he keeps saying everything besides what he actually wants to say, but he's too deep in his own feelings to even think about that. Even if the answer laid within the action itself.
“Saving the city- having to look after Bludhaven and Gotham sometimes, and even the world on occasion- doesn't really give anyone a lot of time to do certain things. You know I'm not over all the time, and that I'm not always… y'know.”
“Dick Grayson?”
“Yeah! And just…” he took a breath before sighing once again, “All I'm saying is that a different approach could've been taken.” You hate how every word he said only seemed to validate concerns you had in the past. Thoughts that still liked to linger every now and then when you caught yourself still thinking about what could've been, and if certain things happened, would that really change anything?
It's funny that only now were you truly beginning to think otherwise.
“So… what?” You say in a dry voice, “Are you saying that I should’ve been just like you? Just like the others- and give up my dream, what I wanted to do- give up my passion, because at least then I would be able to talk to you? Because I would have a higher chance of even seeing you?”
“That's not what I mean, Y/n, and you know that-”
“No. No I don't. I don't know that, and honestly? I have no idea what the hell you’re even trying to tell me right now besides that I should’ve tried harder. That I didn't do enough, because clearly- spending all of my time trying to do things for you, to accommodate for the whole fucking family that couldn't even stand for me to be in their presence for even a few seconds-” You took a shaky breath, more tears spilling out and escaping you, more falling than you would've liked, “that's not enough. Wasting my life away and trying to do everything I could to the point where it put my health at risk- that wasn't enough. I should’ve just dropped everything and followed everyone else instead of trying to find an alternative, because there was no alternative, right? Is that what you're trying to say?”
For once, Dick was speechless and had nothing to say, and his silence only made you hurt more. It's like you were waiting for what felt like the inevitable.
“What else am I supposed to do, huh? What else haven't I done? Is nothing else good enough for you? Is that really the only way I could've been with you? To see you, to actually talk with you and all the others? To be part of the family? Is that what it would've taken?” You're nearly gasping for air at this rate, with every word you say only carving deeper into your heart, and getting harder to say as you struggle to voice them aloud. Nearly choking on both your words and tears, and yet you push on.
“Did I really have to give up on my passion- my dreams to have a better chance to be something to you?”
“Y/n, that's not what I mean. Doing it wouldn't have gotten in the way-”
“You know that's bullshit! You act like the line of work you do doesn't take over your life! Like you don't think about it everyday- like you aren't constantly in danger!” At this point you're shouting and you barely even realize it, tears flowing freely now as they burn into your cheeks and crash down on the pavement below, “Is it so bad that I don't want that? That I don't want to put my life at risk? That I don't want to live your life?!”
“Maybe you enjoy that. Maybe you like that chaos and constantly putting your life on the line- but some people don't! Maybe you're made for that kind of life, but I'm not! I want to live my own life without having to be even more worried about my own well-being and safety!”
“Y/n, please- calm down! I don't want to fight, I-” Dick took a quick breath, his own heart squeezing as he tries to remain stable, to remain calm. Even if it felt like he was watching his whole world crumble before him, each tear you shed stabbing into him, and every word that spilled out just twisted the knives as they dug deeper into his chest and body. “I understand what you mean, but you have to realize-”
“Realize what? That everything I did was for nothing?” Thinking it was one thing, but saying it out loud was another. The words weighed heavy on your tongue, and the more you tried to say them the more choked up you became. “That all of my effort was in vain, and I should’ve given up while I was ahead? Because that's the impression I'm getting right now-”
“That's not what I meant, Y/n. I… I didn't mean it like that.”
“But how else could you have possibly meant it? How else am I supposed to interpret that?” You laughed again, but it was just as sad and pathetic as the last, “You can't expect me to just know these things, Grayson, especially considering everything and just-” You felt like you were going to tear your hair out, like you were going to collapse and truly break. Yet you managed to stand, and speak again no matter how weak your voice is.
“You were never there for me, none of you were.” Your hands are shaking and your face burns, voice cracking in every way possible, and you hate this feeling. Yet above all else, you hate how he made you feel like this, “I could show up at the manor, bloodied and bruised, and no one- no one would notice or bat an eye. I could be wearing a cast and have crutches, and yet not a single person besides Alfred would see it or comment on it. I could be at the hospital and no one would show up, not one of you-”
“Wait… what-?” Dick tried to speak, but you wouldn’t let him, you couldn’t.
“You were never there when I needed you. You never checked up on me, you barely even noticed me-” again, you suck in another breath, barely able to take it in, “do you know what I’ve had to deal with on my own? How much it cost me? How much it hurt me-?”
“Wait, wait- hold on! You’ve been hurt?” Dick managed to cut you off, “I… I never heard about this.”
“Of course you haven't!” You couldn't help but laugh, more tears spilling and leaving scars on your face with how badly they burned into your skin, “You hardly even noticed, how can you expect to hear about it?”
“You didn't tell me- you didn't tell anyone! How- how am I supposed to know about these things when you won't even tell anyone? When you won't tell me?” Dick can feel himself begin to tear up, but he keeps it all down. He was frustrated, and even if it wasn't directed towards you, he couldn't keep his big mouth shut. Even if by the looks of things - you couldn't either, even if that was for a different reason.
Maybe you both were one in the same, but different in some ways. Dick would feel stupid if he noticed it, but of course he couldn't — not at the moment. Not with how things are going.
If only he noticed that sooner. If only he had done a lot of things sooner – then both of you wouldn't be in this position. You wouldn't be in this position.
Yet, he couldn't help himself. Both of you couldn't, in a way.
“I can't read your mind, Y/n! I'm not even at the manor half the time- how am I supposed to notice? You can't just expect me to suddenly know-”
“But you visit enough for the others? For any one of them you'd come rushing over, especially if it was for Damian-”
“At least he tells me when he gets hurt!”
“Are we talking about the same kid right now? God, and here I thought that he was your favorite.”
“‘Favorite’?” Dick chuckled out humorlessly, feeling something in him break at your words. “I don't have any favorites-”
“That is such bullshit, Grayson, and you fucking know that.” You couldn't help but sneer, everything you tried to keep inside finally rearing its ugly head as the lid you tried to put on your emotions flew off, leaving you feeling nothing but unapologetic rage. “You play favorites all the time, but I wouldn't know that, would I? I'm probably your least-”
“Don't say that. You're not. You never were.”
“Right! Yeah, you're right. After all, I'm not even on the list, am I? How can I be the least when you barely even acknowledge me-?”
“I didn't-” Dick just cuts himself off, sighing before he continues, not being able to stop the scoff that slips past, “I didn't mean it like that. You're important to me, Y/n, how many times do I have to say that? It's like you're trying to put words in my mouth at this rate.”
“Well, excuse me for not believing you considering that, oh, I don't know, I've been ignored by you for years? That-”
“‘Ignored’? I haven’t been ignoring you, no one has-”
“Really? Are you really trying to say that now-?”
“I understand that you're frustrated, okay? That you have all the reason to be mad- but no one has ignored you. I haven't ignored you-”
“BULLSHIT! That is bull-SHIT!” You scream before you even notice the words had left your mouth in the first place, “You would have said that before it that was the case! And even then- how the hell do you explain this entire shit show? How do you even dare to try and explain where the fuck ANY of you have been?! Because people can only be so ignorant and stupid until others begin to think it's intentional and you're doing it on god-damn purpose-!” Broken, harsh chuckles escape you - slipping in between your piercing words, ones so rough and dry that it scratches your throat just to let them out. The disbelief was heavy in each and every one of them, utterly devoid of any humor, and yet they were so unbelievably empty simultaneously.
You could feel your heart breaking even more, but you weren't the only one. Not that it mattered, as with each piece that was chipped off, you could only register the little sounds of you coming apart. Everything else was muffled, and almost completely blocked out. With your only focus being on him, on them.
“Just because something looks a certain way, doesn't mean that it's really like that. I told you, it isn't that easy. Like I said before- I haven't been avoiding you, let alone ignoring you! I wasn't trying to do anything like that-”
“It doesn't matter what you tried! What you're trying to do! Don't you see? What matters is what it felt like to me-”
“But you won’t let me change that! You won't let me try and change things- it’s like you want it to remain the same-!”
“YOU DON'T GET TO SAY WHAT I WANT! NOT AFTER THIS- NOT AFTER EVERYTHING! You don’t get to say shit like that- you don't know me! You don't know what I've been through-! So stop talking like you understand me!”
“But you won't let me in! You won't give me the chance to understand! How can I expect to know anything when you're giving me nothing to work with?!”
“How about you take a fucking hint, Grayson. Can't you read the room?! You're a cop for crying out loud! And was trained by the best detective the world has to offer- so it's not my fault you're acting like you're stupid!”
“You're not another case, Y/n! You're family, you’re my sibling! Not something that needs to be solved! Is it really so hard to just tell me anything and not push me away when I'm right here?!”
Your words catch in your throat momentarily, but you try to push past that and force something out, not caring if it was made of broken glass or venom. Yet, just as you go to speak, and the first letter escapes your lips – Dick finally breaks too.
“SHUT UP! Just Shut. Up. And ACTUALLY listen to me for one second! Please! For the love of-” Dick can't help but scoff, running a hand down his face, and covering his mouth with it.  Looking away as he does so, brows furrowing. 
He wants to say something, think of anything that he wants you to hear and understand clearly - but nothing comes to mind. Nothing you'd truly hear him out on, anyway. Nothing he's already mentioned to you. Nothing that would make this better. Even as he goes to try and say something, all that comes out is a mess of half finished words that he can't make comprehensible, especially not in a way that'll have you listen to him where you won't try to bite at him again.
So, he falls silent. You both do.
Your eyes widening at the sudden shout, before your gaze hardens and you glare at Dick through your tears and agony. His silence makes you angrier, but his loud response does shut you up momentarily.
“Well– fine, if you want me to be quiet so badly, then I'm leaving.” You manage to say after a moment, voice wavering and becoming weaker — now spent thanks to how you've been using it up until this point.
Still, your words immediately snap Dick out of whatever trance he was in, and cause his head to snap back in your direction, with his eyes locking onto you once again – though they widen a little before he tries to calm down, and take in one last breath. He scrambles to say anything, especially as he sees you turn to leave, and see your words through.
“W-wait, hold on, I-” he presses his lips into a thin line, thinking briefly before continuing, “Can I at least walk you home? It isn't safe-”
You pause in your movements, “No. Just-” you don't look back, you can't bring yourself to, but you do just barely glance over your shoulder – though not enough to actually see him again. Dick can't see your eyes anymore, but he can still see the tears streaming down your face. “Just leave me alone. All of you.”
Dick tries to reach out, to stop you one last time – but he hesitates, and just lets his hand fall back to his side. Instead, opting to watch you leave while he stands there, left hurt and alone. His eyes eventually find and land on the coffee you had left behind on the bench, and he finds himself staring at that once you're out of sight.
He has to hold back from running after you, and following - if only to just make sure that you'd reach your apartment in one piece - but he manages. It's the least he could do, after all, and besides, he doubts he'd be able to do that without making you hate him even more. He's gathered as much from all of this, and really - from the looks of things, he had a lot more to consider than he had originally thought. All of them did.
… It's only as you walk away and the distance between you and Dick grows bigger, with both of your words beginning to settle - that you both notice the clouds once light cries have turned into ugly sobs, with each tear being shed heavier than the last, thunder roaring and echoing in the distance, lightning striking the earth with a deafening clap. It was only then that both of you even noticed that the light drizzle from before had turned into pouring rain, and that there was more than just the two of you in the world. Something that felt heavier than it should’ve, but felt appropriate at the same time.
Regardless, you continue to walk away, and once again, never look back as you commit to your decision no matter what may happen afterwards, or the consequences that may follow. Just like that one day back in the manor, you move on and go on with your choice, just knowing what you want in that moment and seeing no reason to deny yourself — especially when you want the same thing you wanted that night, when you just want to get away. You don’t know what happened tonight, but all you knew is that you didn’t want to be a part of it anymore, so you just left, and maybe you would’ve felt a little grateful that Dick let you go if you had noticed to begin with – since your mind was more focused on just putting as much distance between you and him as possible.
Your phone vibrates in your pocket, and it’s only then that you remember that you still had it on you – not that you knew why you’d leave it anywhere or forget it, but it’s something you noticed nonetheless. You fish it out of your pocket as you walk, and wipe some of your tears away with the back of your hand, sniffling lightly as you check the notification. Jessica had left you a voicemail – several, actually. You couldn’t imagine why, but you didn’t try very hard to think of a reason, and instead just opened your phone to listen to it.
[“Hey, hun’, it’s been a while, you okay? If you don’t call in the next twelve hours or so then I’m calling the police- even if most of them are useless as hell, I know more of them will look, since they know who you are and all that. But I swear if that asshole did anything to you then he’s got another thing coming, and I know you don’t like to fight, but please, for the love of god, just sucker punch that creep in the face if you have to. He looks like he could use one, and an extra hard one at that.” She takes a moment to sigh, clearly frustrated - which her tone made very clear - but you could sense a little worry, “But, seriously. Just get back to me when you can, and you better be safe, alright? Listen to my other voice message if you haven’t already, talk to you soon, bye.”]
Just hearing Jessica’s voice made you feel a bit better, and some of what she said got a little laugh out of you. She always tried to look after you, and with what just happened – you couldn’t be more grateful for it.
So, you did as told, and listened to the other voice message she had left you, curious as to what she had wanted you to know about.
[“Hey, it’s Jess, darlin’. I hope you’re not still with that guy, but if you are then just remember what I told you, okay? Well, anyway, Cece came by, and is waiting for you in the diner, and barely awake at that. So just come by and pick them up, since- well, I’d send ‘em home on their own but honestly I doubt they’d be able to make it there themselves. I’m a little surprised they were even able to reach this place- but you get the jist. Come by, but if you’re still with that guy? I can wait, just hurry up because a girl’s gotta get her beauty sleep. See you, bye.”]
… Oh, well, guess you had to make a stop on your way home, then. You wanted nothing more than to curl up in your bed and just sleep, but it’s not like the walk to the diner was long anyway, and besides, it was on the way back to your apartment, so you couldn’t really complain.
With that, you made a turn and headed towards the diner. Still processing and taking in everything as you do so — but when you feel more tears begin to well up, you push it to the side, and tell yourself that you’ll handle it later. No matter how short or long that interaction was, it drained you, and you desperately needed rest. Maybe it wasn’t the most healthy decision to make, but you couldn’t handle doing anything else right now, so it’d have to wait. Besides, with how tonight went, you definitely didn’t want to think about Dick and the others at the moment – they didn’t deserve it, anyway.
Thankfully, you reached the diner in no time, and it’s only when Jessica stops you at the door do you even realize that your soaked… which makes sense but you feel a little embarrassed when she points it out nonetheless, and says how she loves you but doesn’t want to have to clean the floor again when her shift has been over for about a half hour. Cece was sitting at the counter, and perks up when you enter, giving a sleepy smile before standing up and making their way over to you. Both of you thank Jessica as you take your leave – but not before you wish her a good night and say your usual goodbyes, even if she does make a point about how you and her will talk later. Hell, she even sneaks in how you almost looked like her after her breakup with Michael which… ouch, you can only imagine how awful you really look if that was the case – but it also only fully confirmed that you were talking to her about what happened no matter what.
Still, you were grateful that she left it at that, and didn’t pry anymore as she finally let you and Cece go home. The walk to the apartment – or, rather, the short run there – since you and Cece ended up sharing their jacket as cover from the rain, and they had a funny idea as you both held it over your heads, and… well, one thing led to another – and it's safe to say it turned out to be rather eventful. Ending with you and Cece laughing in front of your apartment building once you reached it, huddled in front of the small entrance – Cece ending up being partially soaked despite their best efforts, and of course, you’re beyond drenched.
Once you reach your shared home, Cece, despite barely being awake, basically shoves you into the shower once you're both a little more settled, and you just do as told – more than a little tired yourself in numerous ways, and definitely not in the mood to argue. When you’re clean and in a new set of clothes, you and Cece talk a little. They try to ask why you had been out, but you just say you ran into someone – though it wasn’t anyone important, and that it wasn’t something to worry about — with them just accepting that answer, much to your relief.
The rest of the evening becomes a bit of a blur after that, with you and Cece just talking some more here and there, sharing a few laughs that really helped brighten your mood and made you forget all about what had happened. The pain becomes dull, and that bright fire in your chest finally dies out - leaving behind a warmth that wasn’t burning or suffocating, but instead comforting and painless. One you welcomed graciously and with open arms as you felt yourself relax more and more.
Eventually, Cece turned in for the night, and as they headed back into their room, you did one last check of the apartment — making sure all the windows were not only locked, but that the curtains were closed. Going as far as to check the front door a few times just to make sure that it was really locked. Even if none of what you did would really stop any of them from getting in - it put your mind at ease a little, and really, that’s all you could hope for.
With that, you finally settled into bed, and fell asleep faster than you had in years.
For once, you hoped you’d never wake up as your worries and fears felt so far away, and reality was out of reach – even if it laid just beyond your closed eyelids. As much as you hoped for a better morning, more than anything, you hoped that you’d just sleep the week away if you could help it. God knows you needed the rest, or at least it felt like you did.
—----------
Dick had no such luxury.
The night became a blur after you had left, and he barely remembers even meeting up with the rest of the family once everything was said and done. He couldn’t tell how long he had been standing in that park all by himself, thinking of everything you had told him and looking at the little pieces of your existence that still remained behind.
All he knows is one thing led to another, and now he’s here – sitting on top of a roof with everyone else both simultaneously chastising him and trying to discuss what they should do now. Though Dick couldn’t bring himself to pay attention, since the events that had unfolded moments prior replayed in his mind like a broken record, torturing him slowly as his brain reminded him of all of the mistakes he’s made tonight. He can’t understand why he said half of what he did, especially because he didn’t mean it. He didn’t mean to blow up like he did – especially in front of you, and when you were clearly hurting and frustrated on top of that. The only thing Dick wanted to do in that moment was stop both of you from arguing, and it seems that his mouth ran off to do just that before he could think of a better way to do it. Now leaving him like this, and things worse off than they were before.
Point is, Dick felt like shit, and he knew he deserved it. Though the rest of the family definitely weren’t helping him out in that regard.
“How the hell did you even fuck this up, Dick?” Jason asks, his tone so heated it sounds like it could’ve come from the depths of hell itself – and all just to burn his older brother.
“I knew I should’ve gone instead, this would’ve never happened-” Tim can’t help but mumble to himself, arms crossed as he sighs, frustrated – but not completely at Dick. If there was a moment for him to really believe he should’ve kept your address and apartment number to himself, it was definitely now.
“Wait- so… what do we do now?” Stephanie asks, concerned over what happened, and that Dick hasn’t really said anything about it to them – even if all of them can tell it went poorly.
Damian just sighs, his arms crossed as well as he looks at Dick before looking to the others, “Take matters into our own hands, obviously.”
“While I agree that something should be done, is it really a good idea to act now?” Barbara pitches in, not entirely sure of what Damian was talking about, but not liking the implications of it all the same. Something about it just didn’t feel right to her, nor did the look he gave her.
“Of course. Now that they’re presumably heading to their apartment, we can just-” before Damian can finish what he was going to say, Cassandra covers his mouth, cutting him off swiftly which annoys the little Robin enough to shove her hand away and give her a scrutinizing look, “what?”
Cassandra just shakes her head, and instead begins to sign something, basically saying how they don’t know if you're even at your apartment, and by the time they find out where you actually are, it’ll probably be morning. Even mentioning how since you know that they know where you live, you probably wouldn’t even be there anymore. Which just causes Damian to huff in response. She had a point, and he knew it, but he wasn’t going to admit it out loud.
Still, despite that Jason spoke up again, “Actually, I agree with the little twerp. Now’s a good a time as any to get them home.”
“... You can't be serious, right?” Barbara asks, now getting a little concerned over what Jason meant as well, and the half-shrug he gave did little to reassure her or calm her nerves that were slowly beginning to rise.
“Why not? They’re still out there doing god knows what- who knows where in the dead of night,” he points out, giving Barbara a little glance, “it anything, I just see more of a reason to get them before anything else happens.”
“Jason, do you even hear yourself right now.”
“What? Is it a crime to be worried for my god damn family now?”
“Jason.” Bruce’s voice pierces through the air, cutting through the tension before anyone else can speak up or give their two cents. Almost as if just his voice alone was enough of a barrier between those who wanted to get you home, those that didn’t, and the few who didn’t know where they stood at the moment. 
Regardless, it’s enough for Jason to stand down, if only temporarily as Bruce turns to Dick – who’s still out of it, and staring at the ground just before his feet.
“Dick,” Bruce calls out, which only gets him a subtle glance, with Dick not even bothering to pick up his head – or maybe he just couldn’t, no one could tell except for the one person among them who was much too fluent in body language. “What do you think?” He asks simply, narrowing his eyes a little when his eldest son grows quieter somehow.
Dick fidgets with the coffee cup in his hands, its warmth long gone, and yet he still runs a finger or two along the side as if it was still there. He doesn’t know why he grabbed it, but now he almost couldn’t find it in himself to let it go. It was yours, after all, if only for a brief moment – and even if all it did was serve as a reminder of his faults, it reminded him of you, and right now? That’s all he could ask for. Dick can’t explain it, but it’s like by holding the cup and having it with him, he had a small part of you with him. Since, sure, while you had left it during your… ‘dispute’ with him, it had come from a place you liked and he could only assume that it was just how you liked your coffee. It was silly, but holding it made him feel close to you, and that’s all he wanted at the moment. To be close.
… It takes him a beat or two before he responds, and even then he seems unsure of himself – but remembering what had transpired minutes ago is enough to set his mind straight.
“I think… we should give them some time, and… a bit of space too for a while.” Dick manages to say hesitantly, tapping the cup lightly as he still holds onto it.
That seemed to quiet everyone down for a moment, until Stephanie eventually asks the question on everyone’s mind.
“Just how badly did things go, Dick?”
He couldn’t answer that, he didn’t want to, so he remained silent. However, Cassandra could tell, and found herself just as divided as she felt the moment she first saw him. She didn’t know what she wanted to do more – throw Dick off the roof, or go looking for you herself. Maybe she’d try to do both if Bruce wasn’t right there. 
“So, what? Do they hate us now or something?” Jason says sarcastically, but with how Dick tenses a little his tone turns harsher, “... You can’t be serious.”
“Dick- please tell me you didn’t screw things up that badly. Please tell me that you didn’t make things worse!” Tim almost begs, desperate to be wrong and hoping that his eldest brother hadn’t made things worse – that there was still a small chance.
Sure, they didn’t expect things to go great, but none of them really believed that they would go so horribly!
“Look, just-” Dick takes a short breath, looking at the cup in his hands in quiet defeat before glancing away, “I think we should give them some time to themself is all.”
Jason can only scoff as he crosses his arms, “I knew I should’ve gone instead, they would’ve been home right now.”
“I believe me and father would’ve handled the situation much better,” Damian states, as if it would lead to the only positive outcome should he and Bruce had gone instead.
“I knew I should’ve kept my mouth shut and just gone over by myself- stupid! Stupid! Stupid!” Tim curses under his breath, looking away as he continues to mumble to himself – expression growing increasingly darker and the air around him shifting into… something indescribable.
Cassandra seemed just about ready to rip something apart, and Stephanie was getting nervous from how the others seemed to be reacting, only able to stutter out a small, “G- guys? Maybe we shouldn’t be talking about this right now-”
“I agree…” Barbara chips in, her own concerns only growing as she looks at the family, but tries to help Stephanie out nonetheless, “What’s done is done, and we should be trying to figure out what to do from here on out.”
Damian scoffs, “Right, like that will be easy with brother being silent about everything.” Dick could only look away in response, taking a small sip of the coffee in his hands, finding a little bit of comfort in its taste. It was cold, and wasn’t how he usually got his done – but it’s how you liked it, and that was enough from him to like it too.
A small argument seemed to spawn from that alone, with some now going back and forth yet again on what to do – Cassandra, Jason, and Damian pretty adamant about wanting to bring you home, with Barbara, Stephanie, and Dick more keen on waiting and giving you space — even if Dick was definitely more quiet about his stance, still thinking about… whatever was on his mind. Tim didn’t seem to engage much in the arguing either, and instead seemed to be dealing with his own thing as he kept mumbling to himself, leaving Bruce to be stuck listening to all of the nonsense until he finally got fed up with it.
“Quiet down, all of you.” He states firmly, voice cold and harsh as he shuts everyone up without even moving an inch. His eyes seemed to judge all of them as he looked at everything before sighing, and making the decision for everyone.
“We’ll give them time, and stand down for now.” He says, his tone alone indicating that there would be no arguing on this. What he said was final, and everyone would be smart to follow along with it, no matter where they stood. Still, he turned to look down at the city, and caught the faintest glimpse of your apartment building in the not-so-far distance. “but if anything happens, then we’ll act accordingly.”
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lunasfics · 9 months
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Found Family
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summary: In which Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent engage in a custody battle over a clone created from both their DNA, or, in which you get saved from a lab and gain two new families who would move mountains for you.
pairing: Bat Family x f! Reader, Supers x f! Reader
word count: 8.2k
preview
a/n: hello! IT'S FINALLY OUT WOOHOO, it's a bit long but i had a lot of fun writing it. certain characters may be a bit ooc so i do apologize as i'm still getting my footing on how to characterize certain people. let me know what you think! constructive criticism is always welcome and appreciated (just pls don't be mean lol)! i left a somewhat open-ish ending because i wanna make this into a series/universe, and will start taking requests for drabbles in this universe, depending on how this is received! - luna :)
reblogs are appreciated!
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“I’m in. Robin, what’s your status?” Bruce spoke into the earpiece, swiftly moving through the shadows of the lab. It was a simple mission: get into the lab Lex Luthor had created under Gotham City, collect intel needed to take down said lab, and leave. Unfortunately, it’s never really that simple, is it? 
“I’m in, making my way through the west wing, cover is still intact,” Damian muttered back. 
“Good. Nightwing?” 
“Just entered the center lab, heading down to the bottom level now, haven't been spotted,” Dick said, making his way down the steps, careful to remain silent. 
“Good. Remember the objective. In and Out.” Bruce muttered as he continued, searching for the locked file cabinet he was looking for. 
“Files located. Ready for extraction” Damian said quietly through the intercom. 
“I’ve made it to the bottom level. Requesting immediate backup, there's something here you guys need to see” Dick’s voice echoed through the earpiece, “They’ve made another clone.” 
Bruce stopped what he was doing, silently making his way down the hall towards the staircase Dick took around a half hour before, “I'm on my way. Damian?”
“Heading there now. Files are downloaded.” 
Upon arriving at the lower level, Dick bypasses security to let them in, making sure to reactivate the lock behind them, “Look.”
He gestured to the incubation tube not far from them, inside of it stood a young woman, who looked no older than 20, wearing a black skin-tight suit, a familiar “S” symbol adorning her chest, only it was the center of another symbol, the bat symbol, with bat ears at the top and bat wings on either side of it, a dark burgundy color with gold lining along the edges. The plaque below the tube read: 
Attempt 1: G6B24 
Specimen 1: Superman (Identity: Unknown)
Specimen 2: Batman (Identity: Unknown) 
Status: Failed - Shows excessive signs of emotional intelligence (unfit for purpose), Subject is not invulnerable, Lacks thermal vision
‘Emotional Intelligence’ you must have shown hesitation, a moral compass. 
“Father… what are we going to do?” Damian asked, he was at a loss, part of him felt slightly threatened, if you were taken in, he would no longer be the only child related to Bruce by DNA, and you were older, stronger— perhaps you would take his place, the place he’d finally felt he truly belonged; however he remained silent, his past self likely would have attempted to argue against your rescue, but he’d grown, he knew deep down you deserved a chance at this life just as much as he did. 
Bruce looked up at your unconscious figure, at a loss for words, you were his daughter, intentional or not, there was a part of him in you, he only hoped that part wouldn't screw you over for life. As surprised as he was, he had an obligation to you the same way he did with Dick, Jason, Tim, Cass, Steph, Barbara, Duke, Damian, and every other vigilante he had taken under his wing.
His Batman instincts kicked in very quickly though, immediately refocusing himself, reading through the files, in an attempt to prepare himself for any possible scenario, he turned to Dick. 
“Find all the DNA samples they have belonging to both me and Superman, we’re taking them,” he said, making sure to not hyper-focus on the thoughts flooding his mind. 
“We’re not just leaving her here, are we? The plaque says ‘failed’. Who knows what could happen to her?” Dick said, he was frustrated.
Conner had gotten a chance to build a life for himself. You deserved one too, the mere thought of Bruce wanting to leave you there angered him. 
“She’s coming with us. Damian, watch the door, Dick, find the samples," Bruce said gruffly, moving to the tube, bypassing the database to open it, without setting off any system safeguards. He reached into his utility belt and pulled out his shard of kryptonite, just in case it was needed to neutralize you. 
The tube opened slowly, a swoosh sound filling the air as the cold fog escaped the tube, spilling into the air, your eyes fluttering open as you looked around, your eyes focusing on him.
You flew at him, full speed, pushing him against the wall with a thud, knocking the wind out of him, your eyes boring into his, glowing red, just as you were about to terminate him with your heat vision, he uttered the safe word he had seen in your file. 
“Blue Pineapple” he grunted out, the red in your eyes fading away instantly, as you stared at him with wide eyes. You backed away slowly, lowering yourself to the floor. Your eyes fixed on him once again.
You recognized him from your programming, the man whose combat skills were engraved into your mind.
“Batman?” 
Dick and Damian rushed over, making sure Bruce was okay. He was fine.
Dick turned to you, holding out his hand, “Come with me. We need to get you out of here, you aren’t safe here.” 
You stared at him, your eyes narrowing, “Why should I trust you?” 
Dick sighed, Those damn Wayne genetics, he kept his hand extended to you, “Because we’re helping you escape, if you come with us, you can meet Superman, be a hero just like him and Batman, you could actually see the world” he promised. 
"I know what the world looks like." you stated bluntly.
He sighed, his hand not wavering, "But have you ever experienced it? Let us show you what that's like. You can have a life."
You thought for a moment, before letting out a small grunt, nodding at him and taking his hand, allowing them to lead you out of the lab grounds seemingly undetected. 
When you stepped out, you stopped, eyes completely transfixed on the brilliant night sky. Blends of blues and purples and grays danced together to make the beautiful endless abyss above you. You knew every color there was. You knew everything, but at the same time you really didn't. You stared up at the stars, you knew how they came to be, you knew every scientific explanation there was yet seeing them… it made you feel a way you couldn’t explain.
They led you to the batmobile, situating you in the back seat with Damian, starting the drive to the Batcave. Bruce dialed Clark’s number into the keypad, it rang twice before he picked up. 
“Hello?” 
“Meet me in the Batcave. It’s urgent. Bring Conner.”
“What’s going o-”
He hung up. 
Dick covered his mouth to hide his snicker, “So, Bruce, you and Clark have an official love child now, right? What will Lois think?” he feigned concern, placing the back of his hand over his forehead, committing to the drama, “Oh, how scandalous, I mean really, the shame! I can already see the headlines ‘Billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne turned common whore after breaking up happy metropolis family’” 
Damian covered his laugh with a cough.
You looked at the three of them, utterly confused, still processing what was going on. 
Bruce huffed, shooting them both a glare, “Dick, be mature.” 
Dick smiled, “I can't help myself, just wait til Jason finds out.” He smiled in excitement, as they pulled into the side entrance of the Batcave. 
Bruce let out a deep, tired sigh.
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Clark sat in silence in the Batcave, Conner standing to his left, his eyes wide as he stared at you, possessing some features belonging to both he and Bruce, and other features that seemed to be entirely your own.
You stared back, that same stoic nature radiating off of you that radiates off the Batman, however, he noted the defensive look in your eyes, one so similar to the one he saw in Conner when he first met him. He eyed your suit, noting the familiar “S” symbol, only it was a burgundy color, a rather interesting combination of the Batman and Superman emblems, and he was utterly confused.
He looked over at Bruce, still in his bat suit, his cowl pulled off, “Bruce, what the hell is going on?” 
“I had to call you here because Luthor decided to create another clone. I did the DNA test, Clark, she’s a combination of both our DNA” Bruce looked at him, Dick and Damian standing to his right. It was silent for a moment, you felt like a guinea pig, the way they all stared at you. It made you angry. 
Conner was the first to speak, stepping forward before opening his mouth, choosing his words carefully, “What’s your name?” 
You responded immediately, it felt automatic. “Experiment attempt number one. Code G6B24. I was made to be the future killer of the Batman and the Kriptonian.” 
He nodded slowly, “I’m a clone too, and Clark took me in— well, he took me in eventually— that’s besides the point. He showed me how to become my own person, we can help you do that too.”
You looked at him, eyes softening ever so slightly, but you kept your guard up like your Batman programming taught you to. “I was made to be a killer, if I don’t do what I was made to do, what am I worth?” you said quietly, voice unwavering.
Damian watched you, your words striking him in a way he hadn't expected them to, he understood what you were saying all too well. 
Bruce decided to speak up next, “You were created, it’s not your fault what their intentions were when they did so. What you become from here on out is your choice.” 
You stayed silent, eyes darting around the room—What is this feeling? Vulnerability? You knew it by definition, like you did most other feelings, but feeling them… it was different. 
Dick noted the way you seemed overwhelmed, he approached you slowly, pulling up two chairs, motioning for you to sit, you chose to remain standing until he sat down first. 
“You know, we trust you, we want to figure out a way for you to become the best you can be. On your terms” he said, offering you a small smile. 
You looked around, the others nodded in agreement, “I was made to be only the best parts of you” you said, your gaze focusing on Clark and Bruce, they both put their best qualities forward to help others, how could you use those same qualities to destroy that?
“I… don’t want to be a killer. They said I was too… human. I thought I’d failed them.” 
Damian decided to step forward, “You didn’t fail anyone, you are meant for greater things. You haven't killed anyone, you can choose your path. If the path you choose is the Robin mantle... I am willing to work with that.” 
At this, the other men in the room turned to look at him, Clark and Conner were slack-jawed, this was the same kid who fought Tim tooth and nail over this mantle. The same mantle he was just… willing to give you? 
Meanwhile Dick had a proud smile on his face, you thought you saw a small tear in his eye.
Bruce’s face seemed unreadable, however, you took notice of the way the corners of his lips turned up for a split second. before reverting back to their natural state. 
You weren’t sure what to say, again, you knew what this mantle was, by definition. The reality was you had no sense of what it meant, the weight it carried. And you knew that.
“Thank you, but I feel like that title isn’t mine to take. I think I need to… become something that's true to who I am, whatever that may be.”  
Bruce looked at you, the corner of his lip barely twitching up into a smile, a smile so subtle that only someone of your… background would notice, an attempt of his towards getting you more comfortable, “We should start with a name.” 
You looked at Conner, he gave you an encouraging smile. 
“Like I chose Conner, so now I’m Conner Kent,” he said with a small shrug, “You can choose whatever you want.” 
“I see,” you thought for a moment, “I like Y/n.” 
Clark smiled, standing up and clapping his hands together, “Great! Y/n Kent, has a nice ring to it.” 
“Wayne.” 
He turned towards Bruce, eyes narrowing slightly, “Kent.”
“Wayne.”
This time Conner spoke, “Kent.”
The three men stared at each other, arms crossed mirroring each-other’s glares. 
Dick cut in, “How about Grayson?”
“No.” came their simultaneous response. 
Dick frowned, slumping in the seat next to yours, “Jeez.” 
Damian spoke next, “I suppose Al Ghul is off the table…” 
Dick snorted, breaking out into a fit of laughter, you grinned softly at the sounds of his laughter, it reminded you of a windshield wiper. 
Conner sighed, “Fine, what about Wayne-Kent?”
Bruce huffed, “I suppose.”
Clark nodded, the smile returning to his face as he turned to you, “Y/n Wayne-Kent”
You nodded, “I like it.” 
Dick could help but laugh from beside you, “It's like I'm watching reality tv. Love me some baby mama drama.”
Clark opened his mouth to speak and closed it, before sighing and looking at Bruce, who just pinched the bridge of his nose. 
Conner chuckled at the sight, turning to Damian, who’s lip quirked up in amusement. 
Bruce looked up, his attention directed towards you, “Y/n, you can stay here for the night, I’ve asked Alfred to set up a room for you. Clark, Conner, come by tomorrow with Lois and Jon, I’ve called the others to come by as well, we’ll get everything situated tomorrow. For now, get some rest.” 
Everyone nodded, Clark and Conner heading to the exit of the cave, Damian, Dick and Bruce leading you to the room that was prepared for you. 
Dick brought you a sweater and some sweatpants to change into, closing the door with a soft, “Goodnight, kiddo.” 
You changed in silence, slowly getting under the covers and drifting off to sleep, marking the start of your new life. Tomorrow would be an interesting day. 
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You woke up the next morning, to a soft knock on the door, your super hearing picking it up better than you would have liked. You opened the door, revealing an older man you hadn’t seen before. He smiled softly, giving you an instantaneous sense of comfort you couldn’t explain. 
“Hello Miss Y/n. My name is Alfred, I am the butler,” he greeted you, handing you a folded set of clothes, “Master Kent chose these for you, however if they are not to your liking, do let me know.” 
“They’re fine…Thank you.”
He smiled warmly, the kind old man giving you a nod, “Once you've changed, do come down, I’ve prepared breakfast. The other members of the family will arrive soon to meet you.” 
You gave him a short nod, he smiled again, your demeanor reminding him of the young Bruce he’d looked after all those years ago. He shut your door softly before retreating down the staircase, leaving you in your room to change. 
You picked up the small note that rested at the top of the pile, reading it over. 
Comfortable, Practical, and cool. Hope you like it. - Conner
You looked down at the neatly folded clothes, unfolding a black long sleeve turtleneck shirt, the material was thick but breathable, you slipped it on with ease, the foreign material soft against your skin, you appreciated that it didn’t suffocate you. 
You reached for the pants next, dark gray cargo pants, these were thicker, and the had an overwhelming amount of pockets. You slipped them on before slipping on the boots that were at the bottom of the stack and exiting the room, going down the staircase. 
Upon entering the dining room, you were met with Bruce sitting at the head of the table, reading the paper calmly eating his pancakes, to his right sat Dick chatting excitedly to the boy next to him, who smiled at him as he listened, he was a slender boy with black hair who looked a bit younger than Dick. Then there was Alred, calmly enjoying his breakfast. Finally there was Damian on the other side of Bruce, leaving an empty seat between Damian and Alred. You sat down, the pale boy noticing you first. 
Bruce looked up, “Tim, this is Y/n.” 
“Hello.” You sat up awkwardly. One thing you never learned was how to navigate social interactions.
He studied you for a moment, offering you a small smile, “I’m Tim.” 
You gave a nod, returning his smile with a smaller one of your own. 
“She knows, by the way.” Dick chimed in.
His eyes widened, was that why you were there? 
“How?” 
All eyes are on you. You opened your mouth to speak but Damian spoke first. 
“She’s a clone. Father will explain everything when everyone else arrives so as to not waste time, until then, hold on to your childish curiosity. I’d like to enjoy my breakfast.” 
Dick nodded, “She was literally made for this shit.”
“Watch your language Master Dick, it is deplorable to speak in such a way at the table, much less in the presence of a lady.” 
Dick blushed, “Sorry Alfred.” 
Bruce simply gave a nod. 
Tim slumped back in his seat, wanting to ask you questions about your abilities, your earliest memories, who were you a clone of, how your programming worked, the boy was itching to know it all. 
Breakfast passed by relatively quickly after that, you weren’t bombarded with questions, much to your relief. Alfred kindly asked you how you slept to which you replied that you slept well. The sound of casual conversation and glassware scraping together filling the room. You enjoyed observing the atmosphere.
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Clark and Conner were the first to arrive at the manor, greeting you happily, with them was a woman and a younger boy, who immediately went to sit by Damian. 
Clark brought them over to you, the woman smiled warmly at you. It made you feel safe. 
She held your hand in hers, “My name is Lois,” her voice was kind, genuine. You noted how she carried herself. Strong, secure, honest. 
Clark was quick to bring Jon over, excited to introduce him, “This is my son, Jon.”
“Hi!”  he beamed at you, you smiled, he was cute. Cheerful as he smiled brightly at you. 
“Hello, my name is Y/n.” you greeted the two, who smiled at you.
Conner was the next to approach, “Did you like the clothes? I picked them out cause it was all I used to wear, but who knows, you may want something more… fashionable.”
You smiled softly, “They're nice, thank you.”
“On that note actually,” Clark said, “I was thinking we can take you shopping later, Bruce and I can pay.” 
Bruce deadpanned, “That’s a joke, right?” 
He smiled, “Of course, you’re paying for everything.”
“Sounds about right.” 
Chatter filled the room not long after, Jon and Damian catching up on the couch while Conner and Tim started a conversation of their own. 
The next people to arrive were three young women, blonde, brunette, and red hair. They had arrived together.
The blonde spoke first, “Why'd you call us here Bruce? We had planned for brunch.” She bitterly narrowed her eyes at him, the brunette behind her giving a short nod of agreement.
Bruce sighed, “We’re waiting on Jason. He’s late.” 
“As always.” The redhead said with a sigh, though you could see she wasn't actually upset.  
The blonde girl turned to you first smiling, “I’m Stephanie, but call me Steph. I’m assuming you’ll be joining our vigilante posse.” She seemed funny, and kind, like she truly cared for those around her. 
“Somewhat, I don’t really know. I’m Y/n.” You said bluntly.
“Pretty name.” She smiled, gesturing to the red haired woman behind her, “This is Barbara, but she's really just Babs.” She then gestured to the brunette, “That’s Cass. She’s lovely.” 
You looked at them and nodded, “It’s nice to meet you.”
Barbara smiled warmly at you, “You too, I’m so glad there’ll be another girl around, we can always use more company.” She smiled at you so kindly, despite having only just met you. Her voice was sweet, like honey. 
Cass smiled softly at you, “Come to brunch with us later. Or, lunch, now since Jason is holding us up.” 
You nodded your lip quirking up into a small smile, “I’d enjoy that.” 
Truthfully, you didn't know what the fuck brunch was. But she said lunch and that you knew. You'd find out about brunch later.
Then, as if on cue, the man in question arrived, walking through the door, slipping off his brown jacket and tossing it on the couch. He was tall, with a stocky frame, jet black hair with a white streak on the front. 
“This better be good.” 
Tim mumbled, “Finally” 
“Miss me Timmy?” 
“Quite the contrary.”
The one called Jason laughed before giving him a small nudge, to which Tim swatted his hand away. 
His eyes fixed on you, then on Bruce. 
“Dude, seriously? Another one? You have a problem man. You’d think you would’ve stopped after me.” 
Bruce stood up, “Jason, sit down. Now that you’re all here I wanted to introduce you to Y/n. She’s a clone, made from both mine, and Clark’s DNA.” 
“Holy shit, man.” 
“Jason, will you shut up?” 
“Never.” 
“As I was saying, she’ll be here in the manor for the time being, I’ll be training her and assessing her combat technique.” 
“Hold on,” Clark interjected, “She should come with us, she needs to get the hang of her powers.” 
“Clark, I have a state of the art training area in the cave.” 
“So? We’re supers, all we need is an open field.” 
“We need to assess her combat skills, and also assess the extent of her powers. She isn’t invulnerable. We need to prioritize getting to the bottom of that.” 
Clark huffed but nodded, understanding the full extent of your abilities was vital in actually training you. 
“It’s like I’m watching a custody battle.” muttered Steph, Barbara laughing quietly beside her. 
“Wait- So Y/n is basically if you and Clark had a baby?” Tim gawked at them, his eyes shifting from Bruce to Clark, to you. When his eyes landed on you, he fired questions like he was on a time limit. 
“How do Bruce’s genetics affect your abilities? Are you immune to kryptonite and invulnerable? How does your thermal vision work? Enhanced strength? Can you fly? Can you fly as fast as Superman? Do you have combat training? How do y-” 
Conner smacked a hand over his mouth, leading him back to his seat, “Lets try not to overwhelm her with the questions.” He chuckled. 
Tim nodded, looking up at you, “Sorry, Y/n.” 
“That’s okay. To answer your questions, his genetics don’t necessarily have a huge impact on any of my abilities, I was created with every available video of Batman fighting embedded into my mind, and the combat skills were engraved in my memory, I should be able to replicate his fighting style to a tee. I’m not invulnerable, but in theory, the stealth I was programmed with allows me to stay agile enough that I shouldn’t often get hurt. I don't have thermal vision, but I do have laser vision, enhanced strength, and flight, although I haven’t tested how fast I actually can fly. And like I said, my combat training is essentially the combat footage uploaded into my mind.” 
Tim had nodded, eyes trained on yours in complete interest as you answered each question, occasionally jotting something down on the notes app of his phone. 
Lois narrowed her eyes slightly at both Bruce and Clark, “I do hope you’re factoring in giving her the opportunity to build an actual social life. Maybe get her enrolled in school.” 
“She has doctorate-level information on several different topics stored into her mind, as well as fluency in 8 languages. I think she’ll be fine, Lois,” Bruce replied. 
She rolled her eyes, “Okay, so school’s not necessary, what about building a social life for herself? That’s important.” 
“There’s Young Justice,” Conner said, “I figured she’d join.” 
Tim nodded in agreement, “I can help her get situated.” 
“Where will I stay?” you asked, you didn’t particularly enjoy how they were all discussing you as if you weren't there, but there honestly wasn’t much you could do. 
“You can stay at the manor, or you can stay with the team, but it'd be best if you lived here in the Manor.” Bruce replied.
“Why isn’t Metropolis an option?” Clark muttered. 
“Because it’s more practical to have her here in Gotham, living with Tim will make it easier to adjust to the team.” 
“I want time with her, Bruce.” 
“You’ll get it. We’ll have her assessed, then three times a week she’ll train and get a hold of her powers with you.” 
Clark nodded, satisfied with that answer. 
Lois spoke again, turning to you, “Y/n, how does that sound to you?” 
You blinked. “It sounds fine. My super hearing allows me to hear every conversation proficiently.”
She chuckled softly, “It’s a figure of speech sweetheart, I meant if you’re okay with everything that was said, you’ve been a bit quiet.”
You felt your face grow hot, “Oh. Yeah, I’m okay with it.”
Clark gave you a fond smile. 
Bruce looked at you and smiled softly, a barely noticeable one, but a smile nonetheless. 
The bulk of the conversation was over. The people in the room falling into easy conversation with one another, you look around, not sure what to do. That is until Jason approaches you, a kind smile on his face. 
“Hey Y/n, I’m Jason, I’ll be honest, you probably won't see me too often cause I can barely stand being around Bruce, but… if he’s ever a dick, call me and I’ll either punch him for you and take you somewhere he’s not.” he grinned, “Or both.” 
You laughed softly, “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.”
He nodded, “I’ll be raiding the kitchen, but if anyone asks, I left.” He shoots you a grin before slipping away. 
It’s not long after that when Jon approaches you, Damian by his side, he shoots you a toothy grin, “So, you’re like, my sister now, right?” 
You’re not sure how to respond, but you feel a puddle of warmth pooling in your heart, it’s nice. You smile at him softly, “I suppose so.” 
He grins, “And that would also make you Damian’s sister. right?”
“I suppose so.” 
“See Damian, we’re blood brothers by extension.” 
“Jon, that is the most imbecilic logic I’ve ever encountered. Just because Y/n is both my blood and yours doesn’t mean–” 
“Blood brothers!” He had shouted cheerfully, before walking away and over to Lois to inform her of the good news. 
Damian sighed, though you took notice of the soft smile that flashed across his face, you concluded that he cared for him. 
A lot of people in this family– Bruce’s family specifically, tend to hide affection, despite the fact that it is apparent to you that they feel it. You decide not to focus on it, people are complicated. 
You chat a bit with various people in the room, Lois telling you that you’re always welcome to visit whenever you’d like, Barbara talking to you about how her work as Oracle, Steph telling you all about the other vigilantes you’ll probably end up crossing paths with. Tim and Conner sat by you, telling you all about the team and the people you’ll meet once all your training is done. 
Slowly, people start to leave, you saw Jason slip out the front door first, sending you a wink. Dick left not long after, needing to return to his responsibilities in Bludhaven, making sure to tell you you’re always welcome to visit him over there. Then Clark left with Lois, Jon, and Conner, leaving the residents of the manor plus, Cass, Steph and Barbara.
Damian and Tim had retreated to their rooms, while Alfred busied himself with household chores, Bruce stood up, approaching you before saying, “Did you still want to go shopping? You’ll need training clothes.” 
You nodded, “Yes, please.” 
Steph perked up, rushing towards the two of you, “Oh, we have to come.” 
“Steph, you go shopping every week. With my card.”
Barbara chimed in, “It’s not about that Bruce, you have a terrible fashion sense. We can’t let you impose that onto Y/n.”
Cass nodded in agreement. 
“We’re just buying training clothes.” 
“She can’t wear training clothes in her daily life,” Steph rolled her eyes, “She needs a wardrobe.” 
You smiled, “I would like a wardrobe.” 
“See?”
Bruce sighed but nodded, “Let's go then.”
Steph cheered while Barbara and Cass high-fived behind her, it was an amusing site. 
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When you arrived at the mall, Steph immediately linked arms with you, dragging you around to her favorite stores, paying no mind to your super strength potentially being able to accidentally break her arm. It caught you off guard, not only the physical display of affection, but the trust.
Again, you felt that soft puddle of warmth pool in your chest. You could get used to that. 
You had gotten to know Barbara and Cass fairly well during the trip as well, Barbara was sweet, she and Steph made you laugh more than you thought you could. Cass and you got along well too, she picked out the clothes you liked the most, always nodding in approval when you would try anything on, a soft smile on her face. The three of them opened their group up to you so quickly, it had surprised you, you felt that with their company you were better able to navigate finding yourself. 
The four of you hadn’t paid much mind to Bruce trailing behind you as you went from store to store, not that he minded. He held a fond smile as he observed the four of you giggling, talking, and having a good time.
He knew his focus on training was important, but he also knew Lois was right (not that he’d admit that to anyone), you needed a social life too. And he knew your heightened emotional intelligence would surely allow you to obtain that, you just needed to blossom, and allow yourself to break free of the restraints you put on yourself. 
He’d lost count of how many times he had swiped his card that day, at some point he had decided to just start waiting by the front, once you guys were ready, he’d walk over, swipe his card, and you guys would move on to the next shop. He wouldn't say this to anyone, but he enjoyed doing things like this, taking care of the people he cares about. 
The last store you had gone to was WayneTech, it was Bruce’s idea. You needed a phone in order to keep everyone’s contacts. So they brought you there where you got the latest model of their cell phone line, it was sleek and thin. You picked out a case and you got a screen protector. Bruce had told you that once you got to the Batcave he’d input league contacts, safety features, as well as league-level security settings. 
By the end of the trip it was early in the evening, Bruce had his arms absolutely filled with shopping bags, and what he couldn’t carry was carried by you and Steph. The five of you stepped out into the parking lot, the sun setting, casting a deep orange hue on the parking lot. You took in the image in front of you, you didn’t know suns could set so beautifully.
The ride home was nice, the car was filled with the soft chatter of the four of you, Bruce didn’t feel the need to listen in. The soft music playing on the stereo as a background was a nice addition to the atmosphere. 
When you’d arrived at the manor, the girls had bid you goodbye, but not before making sure they had your number to add you to their group chat. You were warned by Steph that Cass’s meme game could not be beat. You were slightly confused but nodded, a happy smile on your face. They each gave you a hug before getting in their cars and heading off. 
The walk into the manor was silent, but not awkward, mainly the two of you taking armfuls of bags up to your room.
As he shut the door, Bruce turned to you, “It’s not too late, if you want, we could start out on some training.” 
You nodded, going into your room to change, “I’ll be down there in a bit.” 
He nodded, walking away to change as well. 
You entered the Batcave shortly after, comfortable in your black sweatpants, and a black long sleeve athletic shirt. Now, having a better opportunity to take it all in, it was massive. You looked to your left to see Damian sparring with Tim in one of the further training areas. You walked over to Bruce, he gave you a small smile, leading you to the second training area by Tim and Damian, who by now had stopped sparring, in favor of observing your skill. 
“You can replicate my fighting style to a tee, right?”
You nodded.
“Let’s see it.” 
You charged first, making sure to suppress your strength, your movements swift and calculated, landing a fast right kick to his abdomen. He sidestepped, landing a swift punch to your side. You kept attempting attacks on eachother, each one dodging the other flawlessly.
Tim and Damian watched in awe as the two of you gracefully moved, as if you were dancing. This went on for several minutes, until you attempted a fast left kick to his side, which he caught, using as leverage to flip you over on your back.
Your limbs ached, you looked up at him, “How did you do that?”
He held a hand out to help you up, “I’m not as fast with my left kicks as I am with my right ones. My weaknesses are your weaknesses.”
You nodded. Made sense. 
“You have good technique, and you replicate my fighting perfectly, but that’s all it is. A replication. You need to make it your own. Adapt it in accordance with your abilities, you can’t do that now because Clark hasn’t trained you, but in time you will.” 
You nodded, your chest swelling with pride at his compliment, you knew after your training with Clark you would be able to better adjust your fighting style.
Damian walked over to you, “Y/n. I’d like to spar, you’ve proven to be a worthy opponent.” 
You nodded, it would be good to spar with someone with a different fighting style. Tim sat down to the side, perfectly content with just observing for now, like earlier, he occasionally jotted down some notes on his phone. You decided you didn’t mind it. It was endearing. 
This time, Damian charged first, landing a swift right kick to your ribs, you turned and landed a hard kick to his chest, sending him back, before he flipped and caught himself, running towards you again. His smaller frame provided him with an advantage as he jumped onto your shoulders, before he could land his blow, you flipped your body, sending him to the floor, landing on his back with a thud. You crouched over him, extending your hand.
“You okay?”
“Fine.” he took your hand, getting up to his feet, you gave him a soft smile, which he returned, giving you a nod of approval. He, like Bruce, didn’t often use his words, but you were able to discern their intentions just fine. 
Bruce then led you to a machine he had in the cave, where it analyzed your genetics in comparison to Clark’s, he had determined you were missing the genetic composition that happened to be the main source of invulnerability, therefore the reason you were the way you were. You are unfortunately still weak when exposed to kryptonite. 
You were tired by the end of the night. You felt you had bonded with Damian, he had asked you to spar with him another time, to which you agreed.
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The next day, Bruce had sent you over to Smallville, where Clark had decided on training you, ‘A good old fashioned open field’ were his exact words.
He made sure to send you wearing your original suit, not knowing how fast you would be flying, just in case, only you didn’t like it, so you opted to wear some sweats over the suit. 
And there you were, floating about 300 feet in the air with him, as he explained the basics of flying. 
“You want to create your own leverage, using your flight, you should be able to do this.” He bent one leg, tilting to the right as he effortlessly glided in that direction, he repeated the action only now going in the opposite direction. 
You nodded, imitating his movements, gliding from side to side before stopping and looking at him. He smiled brightly at you, “You’re doing great, kid. There was never a point where you didn’t have powers, so this should be easy. Now, we’ll test your speed.” 
You nodded, “How are we doing that?”
He pulled out a stopwatch, “I’m going to wait here while you fly to Gotham and back. You know the route?” 
You nodded. 
“Okay… and…. Go!”
You immediately shot forward, a slightly bumpy start but your body adapted immediately, you felt the wind whip through your hair, and a smile spread across your face as you made a U-turn around Gotham, making it back to Clark in seconds. 
“2.6 seconds. That’s good.” He smiled at you. 
You went on like that for the next few hours, him giving you encouraging words of advice, and you gained better control over your abilities, him providing you with tips he learned over the years. For that last hour, Jon and Conner joined the two of you, the four of you eventually just playing air tag until Martha and Lois called you in for dinner. 
They insisted you stay for dinner, and you had no mind to refuse, spending time with them was nice. Jon insisted he sat next to you at dinner, excitedly talking your ear off about whatever he’d gotten to that day, and sharing his favorite stories about Damian with you. He acts like he doesn't like people, but he’s got a soft spot for a lot of us, were his exact words. You honestly completely agreed, you smiled at him as he continued talking. 
That day you’d gotten to know Martha and Jonanthan Kent, who insisted you called them Ma and Pa. They instantly coddled you as if they’d known you since birth, though, in a way, that is technically the case. 
They didn't let you leave empty handed, sending you off with tupper-ware filled with leftovers, cookies and pie. You thanked them for their hospitality and headed back to the manor. 
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The next few months were mainly doing morning and evening training with Bruce, occasionally Dick would stop by to train with you, always telling you he was proud of your improvement, which never failed to make you glow just a little brighter with pride. He’d begun a tradition where he would treat you to a burger after training, or whatever it was you were craving. He said that it was his goal to get you to try every fast food joint in Gotham, deciding that it was just an essential part of living there. You quickly decided you hated fast food, but never said anything because that wasn’t at all what mattered to you, what mattered to you was the bond you were creating with your older brother. 
Your relationship with Bruce wasn’t perfect. There were times you saw how focused he was on his mission, neglecting the feelings of those around him, he could be an asshole. And with you still navigating your emotions, you’d get angry and yell, and so would he. If you saw him brushing off Damian, or Tim, one look at the crestfallen expressions on their faces was enough to get you angry. You shouldn’t have been surprised, truthfully, you weren’t. You were too similar. You were just fortunate enough to be surrounded by people early on who could convince you to let them in. 
Regardless of the imperfections between you and Bruce, you knew he cared. He always showed it with the small smile he’d give you as he held up two tickets to the movie you had wanted to see. Or in the way he’d lure everyone into the living room with snacks for a movie night. Or how he’d try his best to always express to you that you were doing well. That you were enough, and that you deserved to be there. 
You’d grown closer with Tim, too, always willing to help him with his assignments (not that he often needed it, but on the rare occasions his sleep deprived self couldn’t wrap his head around a problem). You’d often go to him when you needed help figuring something out on your phone, to which he would offer a simple solution you hadn’t seen before.
Tim was kind, he showed he cared for you by fixing things, when you cracked your screen protector by accidentally tapping it too hard, he made you a new one that could withstand the force of a bullet. He learned to confide in you over time, telling you about Bernard, expressing his worries to you about whether or not he’s good enough. You’d always tell him he was more than good enough. 
Damian had taken to calling you ‘sister’, often challenging and teasing you when he could, you’d developed a relationship where he’d go to you for company. You’d sit in the garden and take in the life around you, while he sat a few feet away and drew it.
Once, he drew you while you weren’t looking, when he finished, he handed it to you without a word and walked away. In the bottom right corner you read ‘Y/n Wayne-Kent’ in neat handwriting, just below that, ‘sister’. That was the first time he’d used that word for you. Your heart swelled. 
You continued seeing Steph, Barbara, and Cass, regularly having lunch with them and talking with them on the phone. Barbara, or as you now called her, Babs, was always there to guide you when you needed it, she’d often send you small gifts from time to time, like jewelry that reminded her of you.
Cass and you would often find the most peaceful company in each other. She would listen to you talk about all the things you'd been learning, telling you about her own experience adjusting to a new life.
Steph and you bonded over poorly written hallmark movies, she always giggled madly when you would point out plot inconsistencies, wearing the most confused expression she had ever seen on a person, you didn’t understand why at first, you would just state facts, but you always enjoyed the time with her. She always says you guys should start a podcast, and you always agree. You hope she never asks you what a podcast is... because you genuinely didn't know.
True to his word, you didn’t see Jason often, but there were a few instances  where you felt particularly suffocated by Bruce’s training that you took him up on his offer to take you somewhere he wasn’t. Those moments were... nice. Every time, he would bring food, and take you to his apartment, where you talked about books and he introduced you to some of his favorite movies. You didn’t know why he and Bruce didn’t get along, but you chose not to pry.
Alfred had taken a liking to you instantly, he enjoyed giving you etiquette lessons, and would bake all kinds of scones and cookies for you to try. His humor was at times very dry and sarcastic, which never failed to make you laugh. He taught you how to bake once, finding you were exceptionally good at it, ‘Miss Y/n, I think we’ve found your natural talent’. You hadn’t expected to be good at it, but Alfred said you were phenomenal. 
You’d also train with Clark 3 times a week, getting even closer with the Kents, integrating yourself in both families. It was interesting being part of two very different families. But you wouldn’t have it any other way. 
Clark had shown you a lot about your powers, but it was never just training. It had become a necessity for the two of you to fly to some famous landmark and have lunch together, before flying back to Smallville for more training.
Clark was constantly trying his best for you, he still had his regrets from his initial relationship with Conner, and although he was forgiven and their relationship was rebuilt, he knew he lost time. And he absolutely refused to repeat that and hurt someone else who didn’t deserve it. 
You always stayed for dinner, you found that you could never say no to Jon, the one time you tried was awful, you felt so bad that you went back the next day and took him shopping. With Bruce's card, duh.
Jon was stuck to you like glue whenever you were over. He always insisted on sitting by you and talking to you about whatever he’d been up to. He flew around with you a lot, you guys would play games that he taught you how to play. Your favorite moments were when he and Damian would allow you in to watch them play video games because ‘How do you not know how to play video games? That’s just wrong. We’ll teach you.’
Conner had spent more and more time with you as well, telling you about a lot of social cues, the importance of boundaries, etc. He was determined to help you adjust in every way he could, he shared his experiences with you when he first started working in teams. You learned a lot from him, he was very affectionate with you, but in that awkward-older-brother way. He’d give you a soft pat on the back and a smile, he knew you’d do just fine. 
Lois became your role model, you truly admired her. She was strong, outspoken, confident. She helped you not be afraid of forming your own opinions and voicing them. One time she saw you yell at Bruce over something he’d done, and all she could do was smile proudly.
These people whose lives you just appeared in one day, very quickly became your family. Every day you were reminded of how lucky you were to have come to care for them as much as you do. Bonding with them was nice, and you very quickly understood the appeal of having family.
These are people who care for you unconditionally, simply because they want to. Because every moment that they spend with you, they choose to.
And just like that, you were ready to meet the team. You had learned to combine your combat skills with your powers, if you need to, you can fight in mid air. You’d learned to incorporate your abilities into your technique to enhance your own personal style. And it felt amazing.
You knew every possible way to deliver an effective, non-lethal blow.  Of course, you needed a suit. Bruce offered to enhance the one you had worn the day they rescued you, but you wanted a new one. To you, that suit represented what you were created to be, and that is not who you are. You wanted something true to yourself, and he understood and wholeheartedly supported you. Damian helped you make a sketch, and together you’d designed the perfect representation of you. And you became Eclipse. The alignment of two heroes, though unintentional, created a whole new hero. You.
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Taglist- @one-green-frog @bonniecat @minnieearsposts @chickentenderx @murkyponds @loserwithnofriends @ilikefanfics4 @fangirlvibez @instantplaiddream @lovelywritersgarden @calicocat45 @strawberrycreamh @sappynappysworld @zyuuuu @allycat4458 @lovelypitasworld @batfamlover @pterodactyl-hater @american-idiot21 @starlets-things @th1s-b1tch-1s-dead @dontgivemeyourname @normal-internet-user @sillyfinn @lostgirlsstuff @llvmakk @princess76179 @vanessa-boo @1lellykins @blitzythefanvergentpitsterthings @samibrewss @pickyblue12 @thetiredtoad0-0 @lacklustertrashbag (I'm not sure why some people's tags didn't work,, I am very sorry, if anyone has suggestions onhow to fix that i'm open to fix them)
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workingbynyx · 5 months
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Hi! I was wondering if you'd be interested in writing headcanons of Jason Todd as the reader's boyfriend? Probably like the general dynamic of the relationship, love language, etc. Whatever you think goes best! :)
of course! i can finally use my hcs of boyfie jason to good use oml i have so much in store for you loves 😚
(this has been sitting in my drafts for so long and now that its almost v-day i think its pretty fitting to post this <3 also pls remember that these are my personal hcs so some may be entirely ooc but this is how i imagine him to be okay 😭)
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Very affectionate behind closed doors
Jason wasn't a very clingy person to begin with. in fact the first time you held hands you swore you saw drops of sweat drip down the side of his face, it's hilarious. it took him a while to get around giving physical affection but once he did, hugs and kisses are non-stop. he'll either give you quick or aggressive but gentle kisses or would simply ask you to climb onto him on your shared bed and lay your head on his chest as he sleeps. he'd search for your hand and give it a squeeze when the both of you are in a big crowd (ex; galas, parties) or just rest his hand on the small of your back— as intimidating he might seem, he's just a big baby in your hands.
A pretty decent cook, to say the least
Could be an unpopular opinion but i'd say Jason isn't all too bad in the kitchen, he can pretty much fix up a simple meal if he wants to. The man could either fuck up the microwave or invent a whole new recipe just to fit your cravings, there's no in between. He doesn't want to admit it but he has a secret folder in his phone of all the recipes to your favourite dishes from lunch meals to deserts; so now on every occassion, you can expect waking up to the fresh scent of your favourite food set on the table <3
Midnight joyrides are the best
Do y'all know those tiktok accs that own a motorbike and just drive around with their partners sitting behind them? That's exactly how i imagine what it would be like to be Jason's partner 👊👊 literally like; "bubs put on your helmet" "are we going out? at this time?" "what, you don't want to?" "well, yeah i do..." "good, i'll have the bike out front then" then you guys just drive around on his bigass bike zooming through the city. He'd also have his hands run down your leg that's straddling him from behind at every stoplight possible wkehwjhejwhd
Getting out of bed is almost impossible
The first time you two moved in together was really exciting, waking up finding yourself beside the love of your life sleeping peacefully to eating breakfast and dinner with them too. But as time went by, it became almost your mission everyday to get out of bed without being held back by Jason pulling you back under the sheets. You'd have to be sneaky to move his arm that's wrapped around your waist before his reflexes react soon enough; "mmh, going somewhere?" "jay, i gotta get to work" "10 more minutes love, i promise. I'll just drive you there it's much faster" "you said that 5 minutes ago— i'll be late again!" "are you saying you'd rather leave me alone?" "jace i–" "mhm exactly, so stay a'ight? you could just tell them you caught that flu" "i already did...two days ago..."
Absolutely adores your eyes, hands and waist
I'm a firm believer that Jason is a certified waist-grabber !!! you can expect the rough tips of his gloves glide over from your back all the way to your waist once he comes home from work. He also looooves looking into your eyes and see his reflection in them, the same eyes that showed nothing but pure love and kindness to him. And he also likes your hands; the size difference when you compare them, how they wrapped around his own, and how they cling onto him every chance you get. He thinks it's such a cute mannerism (if you have them too)
He asks for fashion advice, sometimes
Jason'll probably throw on a shirt, jacket, pants and boots then call it day before he met you— but he's even conscious of how colors looked on him now. You were his stylist, often picking out clothes and giving him new looks that you think looks best on him just because he once saw a photo of him and thought the shirt and pants he had didn't match at all. Jason always thought clothes only consists of hoodies, sweatpants, shirts, but now even knows what 'preppy' clothing is after you explained it to him.
His love language is words of affirmation and physical touch
This may vary to some people but i do hc Jason's love language to be words of affirmation and physical touch. Words of affirmation; only because he absolutely loves it when he tells you what he genuinely thinks of you at the moment. "You look great in red", "i'm proud of what you did there", "i love you, y'know that right?", "you look so gorgeous, i'm lucky to have you" and physical touch; because he's totally convinced he can't live without you by his side. Jason would want to be next or near you at any given chance, he'll have you scooted beside him while he reads a book or gently rub his hand against your thigh when he's focused on a movie. Your presence alone gives him the comfort he's always longing for in nights that he's away from home, and you'd glady give it to him.
Very protective over you
It's probably a known fact that Jason is a protective person but when it comes to you he can be over the top in making sure you're okay (especially when you're also a vigilante/hero working with him.) You'll always have to assure him that you're fine and not bleeding to death with a papercut or when you accidentlly stub your toe against the bed. But when you're also a crime-fighter like him, best believe he'll always have you stay and guarded behind him. You had to explain so many times that you could also take care of yourself like he can, though it's understandable why he acts that way most of the time.
Acts all tough, but melts when you're around
Around the times when Jason still had a lil crush on you, he'd never let his guard down and likes to appear cold or tough. But once you were dating he's an absolute shy babe even with the smallest gestures or compliments you give him. He'd only crack a smile at the side comments you make but is mentally falling apart. Or when he can't keep up the act he simply dips his head in the corner of your neck and stay there til he stops blushing like a teen getting his first kiss.
Is a part of the sassy man apocalypse
Sometimes, you question if this man is simply your bestfriend or your boyfriend of how many years. The amount of bickering the two of you end up having is like watching two friends fight over peanut butter vs chocolate. You'd suggest a book you've been reading that he absolutely despises and have a debate right there and then. It's almost like that one Friends scene when Joey and Rachel were giving spoilers back to back at each other LMAO. The man also has an unhealthy habit of popping a hip whenever he stands, your gallery would probably be filled with pictures of him in that stance alone.
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princeoftheeternalbog · 4 months
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Op characters with a clingy/handsy drunk? let's go
suggestive in Sanjis, Luffy, Brooks, DEFINITELY in Namis and Frankys and maybe Usopps? Mostly vague stuff, on that note would you guys actually be interested in like nsfw stuff? I know I'm really toeing the line here and i have drafts but I'm nervous to post😭.
Feel like this could be ooc in some places but who cares😻(me :()
Luffy
Giggles a lot, he finds it so cute and it really makes him feel warm in his chest. He can't get enough of you to be honest. Like this man loves physical touch but be warned he will think it's a sudden new level in your 'friendship'(read:in love with each other) and start acting that affectionate all the time. Willing to carry you around and also wrap himself around you so you can walk with him just there, yes this includes to the bathroom-
Zoro
Adores it. I think he actually loves affection and physical touch but just doesn't say it because he thinks it's obvious (it's not). So when you come up to him, wobbly and on your 6th drink, and just practically throw yourself into his arms hes just like :/). Makes sure you stay nice and close to him because he doesn't want you clinging to anyone else, and he always makes sure you drink water before bed even if bed involves falling asleep on top of him.
Sanji
Makes him nervous to be honest. Usually he's the forward one in the relationship but here you are untucking his shirt just to shove your hands up it. He absolutely will shriek if its in front of other people, and he's trying to wrangle your grabby hands but he really enjoys it so his resolve is so weak. Tries to satiate you by being affectionate back but it just makes you worse and he ends up taking you to a more private area so he at least doesn't have to blush in front of others.
Nami
She thinks it's so cute. Let's you do whatever you want as long as the people around you are comfortable and you've said it's fine(when sober ofc), but she doesn't really care about people seeing until you start trying to either get undressed or undress her and then she takes you to a private space because she's ever so slightly possessive. Listen for a girl who didn't have much, you add a lot of value to her life and she wants to treasure you properly, she doesn't trust anyone else to appreciate you the way you deserve.
Usopp
Surprisingly confident. You come up to him with this big dreamy smile and you're practically falling over yourself so he just- scoops you up. Front piggyback style yk, he's got one arm under your ass supporting your weight and the other one is holding his drink, listen this mf is strong okay you think a man who can build a boat isn't strong? Fool. He just lets you do what you want to be honest, one of your hands is tucked in his back pocket, the other is trying and failing to undo his overalls and he's just like "You okay honey?".
Robin
She's flustered. She's not that used to physical affection so it makes her really giggly and blushy, though she's still quite confident in her words and actions, she's fr twirling her hair around her finger. She has quite a high tolerance for alcohol but she actually gets a bit similar when she's drunk, she's more reserved of course but she just melts into you like butter on a hot pan. The crew always take so many pictures because they think it's so cute, literally every celebration you two just end up cuddling and then it sorta turns into a big cuddle pile with the crew because seeing her relax gets them emotional.
Franky
Oh baby you are looking in a mirror. He is just as bad if not worse- when he gets drunk he is a massive flirt and a massive tease. He's so giving in relationships and usually you don't have to ask twice but being drunk will mean he wants you to practically beg for a kiss. Half because he thinks it's funny and half because he's a horny bastard- Though if you get upset then he immediately drops the teasing, even when drunk he's so considerate of your feelings and your boundaries.
Brook
Doesn't mind at all but prefers to be in private when you're like this.
Quick headcannon that his bones are more sensitive than skin because there's less external protection-
Lets just say one time you touched a sensitive area in public and he will never get over the reaction he had or the fact that other people saw it. So you go to room jail as soon as you start trying to practically crawl inside his clothes to be as close as possible. He's not mad though, he giggles the entire way, he's just very shy about his interests.
Jinbei
Flustered as hell but makes him feel really secure in your relationship. Also, he lowkey loves being able to bring it up to tease you later, like he pulls an uno reverse when you're sober and you're just like omg omg omg- He's a sneaky guy fr, does so many unexpected things in a relationship. Don't get me wrong though he'd never let you do anything inappropriate, even when drunk he's very aware of boundaries and social etiquette so if he notices you getting a bit grabby then he takes you somewhere private for both your benefit and the people around you.
Sabo
Oh baby. This man is feral don't even start. The first time he experiences it, it's actually really unexpected, it's quite early in your relationship so you havent been too affectionate yet, but you come up to him and just sit down. On him. And you can practically see his brain melting out of his ears, his face goes so red you think he's going to pass out but the second you stand up, drunk and lowkey sad, he snatches you back down. You wanted to sit there, you are going to sit there now you have no choice. (You do but would you want to get up?)
Ace
Menace. Cannot even state how much of a menace. He's so physically affectionate that it usually flusters even the most confident people, and this is while sober, so if you start getting clingy when drunk he just becomes obsessed. But he absolutely hates it if you're like that with other people so once you start getting to that stage then he's whisking you away to your shared room, usually you stick to him like glue anyways but the crew love to wind him up by coaxing you away from him with food and funny stories.
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darlingshane · 6 months
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Professor Castle
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Frank Castle x F!Reader
Summary: Frank has a weakness and it's named after you. No matter how much he tries to push you away he always returns to the same point.
CW: 18+. Explicit, Smut, Angst, Oral Sex (f. receiving), Fingering, Making out, Professor/Student relationships, Age Gap, Reader is an undergrad student in her early 20s. [I know this is very problematic. Don't come at me. It's just fiction.]
Word Count: 2.8k // AO3 Link.
A/N: This was inspired by this picture of Jon in Origin. I couldn't write for that character in particular, so I thought Frank was the best choice for it, even if it's a lot OOC.
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As you muster the courage to enter and confront Professor Castle, you observe him through the cracked door of his office. He looks as good as ever, freshly shaved, in one of his Bexley plaid shirts in white with blue plaid lines, and a dark tweed blazer on top. His hair has slightly curled from the humid weather. His glasses slip a little over the bridge of his nose when he looks down, and he pushes them back in place before tucking a folder in his leather case. You haven't seen him in a few days. Even when you submitted the form to drop his class you managed to leave it on his desk yesterday after he left home. And just early this morning before getting to campus you got an email from him from his uni account, formally denying your request to drop. You don't give a fuck about failing and having to take another course with a different teacher but after what he told you last weekend, you can't stay in his class any longer. It'd be like torture having to see him and not being able to be with him like you desire to.
Of course, you don't ever want to get him in trouble either, he has a lot more to lose than you. But if he doesn't want to see you anymore, then so don't you. So, after a moment of consideration you just clench your fist as hard as you can, set your jaw straight, and storm into the office without announcing yourself. The door slamming the door behind you is what alerts him of your presence. The loud sound makes his head snap up to look at you, standing as tall as you can.
“You can't force me to stay in your class.” You say firmly without raising your voice.
His brow knits behind the thin frame of his glasses as he processes your intrusion.
“No, I guess I can't force you. But I can't let you drop either. You missed the deadline. Unless you have a good excuse like a serious medical condition or emergency the school is not going to let you withdraw at this point. It's out of my hands.”
“Does dying of heartbreak count as a medical emergency?”
“Jesus Christ, you theater kids are really dramatic.”
“Hey, you're the one who told me to join a club.”
“Yeah, but I meant something else like uh… the debate team, the honor society, the newspaper, or the fucking model UN.”
“Well, I made my choice and so did you. I can't just keep showing up at your class and pretend that nothing happened. Can you just think of something? If I meant anything to you… just give me this, Frank.”
You never said his first name before on school grounds. It sounds like a curse word as it slips out of your mouth.
“There are only two months left. That's nothing. Are you telling me you're willing to throw all of that away for me?”
“Yes, because if I can't have you then I can't see you either.”
You catch when his Adam's apple anxiously goes up and down as you say that.
“This is all my fault. I should've never… I should've put a stop to it when I had the chance.”
“Frank—” You take a step closer to his desk, but he promptly holds a placating palm in the air to push you to a stop.
“Don't. Please. Don't throw away your future for me or for anyone for that matter. You're smart and young and strong enough to endure a few more classes. You'll be getting your bachelor's next year, sweetheart. After that… you won't even remember I was ever part of your life.”
“I won't ever forget. I'm begging you. Just let me go or take me back… but…” your frustration knots in your throat. “Stop pushing me away. I know you love me.”
“It doesn't matter if I do. We both have a lot to lose if they find out.”
“Nobody will. We'll be more careful… We could just start over somewhere else, just you and me.”
“Life is not a movie. It doesn't work like that. I know it feels like a matter of life or death right but when you're older—”
“Don't patronize me. I know what I feel. Just take me out of your class or don't. I won't show up either way.”
You turn around to leave the room at once but Frank quickly shuffles behind you and as you reach to grab the handle, he holds the door closed and secures the lock before your eyes.
“So help me God, you're gonna be the end of me, sweetheart.” His tone changes to an octave graver that sends a chill through your spine.
“What are you doing?” You turn around as he steps so awfully close you can capture the strong scent of his aftershave.
“You're going to stay in my class. Front row. Every Wednesday at 10. Then, you're going to ace your final in May. I don't ever wanna hear you again saying otherwise. Is that clear?” He states as a matter of fact, as if you had no choice but to comply with his demand.
“Why are you so convinced I will?”
You watch him up close as he takes off his glasses and lifts his opposite hand to frame your jaw. With conflicted thoughts he pushes your back against the wall, as his face leans to seize your mouth. Professor Castle slowly spells with his tongue all the secrets kept between you in just one beautiful kiss that leaves you breathless.
“Is that enough?” His head pulls back as he sets his glasses back over his eyes as you smooth the lapels of his blazer.
“I'm not sure,” you draw a breath and let the bookbag hanging on your shoulder fall to the floor. “I think I'm gonna need a bigger incentive.”
“There's never enough for you, huh?” he holds your jaw again and tilts your head to the side as he buries his mouth in the crook of your neck.
His lips hold some sort of spell that enchants your body with just a few nips on your skin. The tip of his tongue is laced with poison that intoxicates each and all of your senses as it juts out to leave a wet trace from your collarbone to the back of your ear before pulling back. His eyes turn darker behind the glass as he locks eyes with you. Your pulse picks up in your chest as he licks his lips and allows lust to take over. He watches his thumb trace the shape of your mouth before fiercely succumbing to the temptation of your lips once more, with feeling.
As your arms curl around his neck, his hands travel beneath the hem of your striped, knitted sweater to bask in the warmth of your skin. The sloppy sounds of your kisses sound like sin in this room. You should stop. He should too. But neither of you have enough strength to push the other away.
One of his hands stays pressed on your spine while the other travels down your denim skirt and slips underneath the hem. Hiking it up, his large palm shamelessly grabs your ass, molds your flesh to the shape of his fingers over your panties. Your skin quickly heats up and your mind swirls along the maddening rhythm of his tongue. He presses himself so hard against you, it feels like he's already fucking you, but it's the illusion of his fingers bluntly sliding between your legs and pressing over your opening, stirring a good moan out of you.
“Sh, sh…” he breaks the kiss and whispers a millimeter away from your mouth. “Gotta be quiet now, yeah?”
You simply nod, having his eyes gauging your expression changing as his hand viciously massages your pussy.
“Like that?” His lips pull up at the corners, and you mirror his expression as you softly pant.
“Fuck yeah.”
Then, you close your eyes and press your forehead to his shoulder, keeping your hands anchored to his arms as your juices stain the fabric of your underwear.
“You're dripping, sweetheart.” His voice echoes in your ear. “Is this what you want?”
He presses harder as your grip on him tightens.
“Yeah.”
For a second you think he's going to finish you right there but all of a sudden he stops.
“C'mere,” he locks your arms around his neck before lifting your ass in his hands without much effort. You tuck your legs around his hips as he takes turns around and walks toward the desk.
Keeping you secured in one arm, Frank blindly moves the stuff in the middle before carefully lowering you down on the wooden surface. While you lay on your back, he sits on his chair and brings your ass close to the edge. Instead of letting your legs dangle, he places your feet on each arm of his chair as he kisses one of your knees.
“God, you're so beautiful,” he mumbles against your skin as he rolls down the fabric of one of your thigh-high stockings to uncover your leg. He does the same with the other stocking before letting his lips get his reward.
The inside of your thigh leads a straight road down to hell. After last weekend, he promised himself he would never cross that line again, but he has a weakness, and it’s named after you. It's taken him through a dangerous path that puts everything he ever believed into question. He could lose his job and his reputation if someone were to cross the door to his office and find you spread like a meal ready to consume. It's lunchtime after all, and he can't think of anything better to feast on other than you. His lips trail that perdition-paved road on your thigh as his fingers softly brush the back of your leg. Your skin sticks out as you pull your knees further apart to make room for his face as it gets closer to your center. The corner of his glasses gently pokes the top of your thigh when he reaches that crucial point. You bite your lip and stare at the broken fixture on the ceiling and try to keep yourself from moaning when he pulls your panties to the side. He stretches the fabric as far as it goes, it makes a tearing sound, but it doesn't break. You couldn't care less if he rips them apart. It wouldn't be the first time either. He’s ruined two pairs already. Professor Castle has a wild side that only comes untamed when he’s with you. But this is different. He's never gone down on you right in his own office on campus like he's about to do. You both know the implications of that, but rules be damned right now. All that worry floats out of your head as his tongue makes first contact with your pussy. He draws a line from your opening up to your clit ever so softly before pulling your outer lips apart and diving in. He has just an ounce of restraint himself from going too hard and making you scream out in pleasure, even though he wants so badly to suck on your clit to hear you pleading for more. To stir out of your voice call out his name and title out of sheer joy. But he holds back. He presses an array of kisses and nibbles all over your folds as you close your eyes to focus on the torturing slow pace of his tongue. Your nipples are hard as a rock under your bra, your legs strain to stay in position when Frank slowly laps around your clit, collecting your arousal as your breathing hollows. He places a palm on your stomach, right under your sweater and catches the effects of his mouth in the way your body reacts. There’s an added edge to doing this right here, it makes his cock throb in his underwear as you mumble his name.
“Frank.” It comes out as a murmur, and he hums against your tender skin before going a little harder. There’s only so much he can do to up the pace and make you come without alerting anyone behind that door of what’s happening inside.
We'll be more careful, you said. He eats out your words straight out of your sex.
To speed up the process uses his other hand to slip two fingers into your opening and press on your g-spot. Your back arches in response. Frank has to press that hand on your abdomen a little harder to keep you from squirming too much. It feels like an eternity until you reach the point of no return, once you're there you can feel that fire burning bright at your core as a mind-numbing chill settles at the back of your head. You've never felt that intense jolt sparking your body like fireworks before. Then again you don't have much to compare him to other than the one and only boyfriend you had when you started college.
You grip at his hair as he cues your orgasm. With a strong flick of his tongue and that adamant pressing of your walls you finally come undone. You bury a moan in your throat as every cell of your body is touched by that wildfire that travels from your center out in every direction. It curls your toes in your shoes, your eyes shut, your knees clench together before he can pull his face away. As the orgasm ebbs he sets himself free from your thighs and watches you descend from cloud nine. He uses a tissue to clean up your cunt and fixes your panties to their former position. Then, Frank settles your legs down as your body goes completely limp, and straightens your skirt over your thighs with such love it almost makes you cry.
“Frank,” your voice comes out watery.
“Sh, it's okay, baby. I know. Come here.” He helps you up and pulls you onto his lap.
“I missed you.”
“I know.” He smiles against your hair as he snuggles you against his chest. “I’ve missed you too, sweetheart.”
You clear your throat and stay still for a minute while his hand soothes your back before noticing he’s still hard.
“Do you want me to take care of this?” You fondle his bulge over his pants.
“No, that’s okay. That’s my punishment for hurting you.” He takes your hand away, brings it up to his lip to kiss your knuckles.
“You really have a thing for punishment, huh?” You quip, lifting your head to look at him. It’s then that you notice his messed up hair and send our fingers to fix it.
“Not as much as you do.” His hand pats your ass reminding you of all those times you've begged him to spank you when you were being a brat.
You laugh as you take off his glasses and use the hem of your sweater to clean them.
“Can I come over this weekend?” You ask putting his eyewear back on.
“I have that wedding I told you about. Can't get out of it, I'm the best man.”
“Right. Of course. One of your marine buddies. Florida, right?”
“Yeah.” His stare goes down as he massages your hand thinking that maybe… “You could come with me if you want.”
“I uh… I don't think I'm ready for that.”
“No, you are. Nobody will know you there, and I don't wanna keep lying about you, at least not to my friends. They won't give a fuck, you know? I'm tired of being set up for blind dates and shit.”
“Oh, it must be really hard being you.” You mock.
“Don't laugh. Just think about it. It'll be something casual at the beach. I'll get you a ticket if you're worried about that.”
“I really changed your mind, did I? That's a full 180 from what you said the other day, Frank. Are you sure you want this?”
“Yeah, I was only fooling myself thinking that I could stay away from you. Which I would've if you hadn't shown up here with a fucking attitude. But you're right, we'll have to be more careful from now on.”
“And we can do whatever we want in Florida.”
“Yeah, you wanna come?”
“Only if you really want me there.”
“I wouldn't be asking if I didn't.”
“Then I'll go with you.”
You press your lips sweetly against his and let them bounce together for a moment before getting back to reality. You pull up your stockings all the way up and fix up your clothes before collecting your bag from the floor. But Professor Castle can't help but stall for a bit longer to kiss you once more until you have no choice but to run to your next class.
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maeby-cursed · 8 months
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KISS ME, TRY TO FIX IT…
𓂃 COULD YOU JUST TRY TO LISTEN ?
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a/n: starting a new series of songfics ! this one is very obviously inspired by sad, beautiful, tragic, so you can see where this might be going. enjoy the results of my brainrot ♡ (also, i’ve never written for gojo before, please have mercy)
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✧ synopsis: you’ve been waiting for satoru gojo for ten years, but there’s no trace of the man you fell in love with when you were sixteen years old. it’s time to let go, but he might not want to.
✧ pairings: satoru gojo x fem!reader
✧ wc: 2k
✧ rating: angst. so much of it, angst to drown in. might get suggestive at some points.
✧ cw: mentions of drinking, of the great jjk tragedy of 2006 and its aftermath, implied cheating, gojo may be ooc, toxic relationship ??
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An ice-cold wind blows through the window as you wait.
It’s not even December yet but it’s already snowing.
Soft snowflakes the size of stars, far away in their firmament, enter your living room. When they land on the sofa, they dissolve, leaving in their wake thousands of specks of water that look disturbingly like tears.
It doesn't matter. You don't think he's going to notice anyway.
It's been ten long years of waiting. Ten long years of fighting, of fixing what's broken and denying that it's ever been broken.
It's over. Let winter freeze everything in its path.
When Satoru walks in through the door, you hesitate for a moment. A moment of madness when you see his hair, as white as the snowfall that has invaded your home. Just a moment when you see him in his burgundy turtleneck sweater, his tight-fitting coat. One single moment when you recognize the cold in his pink cheeks.
But it's all over when you meet his crystalline eyes. The fault is theirs.
"Is the window broken again?" he asks, dropping his keys on the entryway’s table.
The window has been broken since September.
You nod and he grunts, running a hand over his face.
"I'll call someone tomorrow, although you could have said something," he says. This is your fault. Of course.
You keep your eyes fixed on the snow. From the living room you can see the sidewalk across the street, covered in a blanket of white that sparkles under the street lamps. It's so painfully beautiful it makes you nostalgic.
You and Satoru moved into this house three years ago, when he got his teaching position, and you can't quite get over the fact that it's time to say goodbye.
You've spent three years of solstices here. You've seen the sidewalks covered with dead leaves, with thousands of little flowers that broke the pavement in their wake. But it’s never snowed. 
It’s not fair, not one bit.
Satoru says no more. He goes to your room and undresses; he replaces his street clothes with a black outfit that seems very appropriate for the occasion. Since you’ve known him, he always takes off his glasses when he crosses the hall of your building, but for once, you wish he'd put them back on. 
When he returns, his hair is dripping over his forehead. You hadn't even noticed that he was taking a shower. 
But he hasn't noticed that your bedside table is empty, either; that your slippers are missing, that there's a seeping coldness in the hearth of your house, and it's not coming from the window.
"What's for dinner?" he asks, plopping down on the couch with his cell phone in his hand.
You get up.
9:26 p.m., November 8. This is where it ends.
"I don't know. I'm going out to dinner," you say.
He doesn’t even bother to look up.
"Hmm, where are you going? Are you bringing something back or should I order myself a pizza?"
It's painful to watch as nothing seems to touch him. He’s infinite — always infinite.
"I'm going to a work friend's house."
"The one with the lovely curly hair and those pretty hazel eyes?"
Christ.
"No. I'm moving in with Rhea. Dark-eyed, blonde, leggy."
"Hmm, how nice."
A moment passes where he just keeps staring at the screen, and you despair.
"Satoru."
"What's up, baby?"
"I'm moving."
At last – at last – he looks up. In his eyes you see nothing; two blue marbles that have sworn you two to an unjust fate.
"You're moving out? Why?"
Where to begin? Because you have been loving a man destined to save everything and everyone for a decade, because you have been trying to fill a void that is not your size for eight years, because the windows are broken and the bed is cold and Satoru arrives several nights smelling of anisette and the perfume of another, because you don't want to live looking at the Strongest, the possessor of the Six Eyes. Because you thought that in some hidden corner Satoru Gojo was still there, and he isn’t.
"Because it's killing me to live like this.” You settle for that as your explanation and try to keep your stare unwavering.
"Like this how?" he questions, suddenly irritated. "In a luxurious house?" He gestures around him with the cell phone in his hand. "Comfortably, with your dream job? Knowing you'll never have to worry about money?"
"No, Satoru. Like this, without you loving me."
That chills him to the bone.
"Of course I love you."
"Do you? Do you want me for anything other than to warm your bed and your cock? Do you want me here, as your partner? Do you need me for anything at all?"
You don’t gesticulate, you barely move from your spot in the middle of the room. Everything in this fucking place is white and uncannily clean; the sofas, the coffee table, the walls, even the snow; but you and Satoru. He’s in all black, you’re in all red. It’s almost dreamlike, and you struggle to stay grounded. 
The only thing you could remove from this house that would grab his attention would be you.
"Yesterday you weren't complaining about any of this, what the fuck is the matter with you today?"
And you can't stand it anymore. The winter current lifts your hair, soaks the back of your neck and disguises your tears.
"THE MATTER IS THAT I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR TEN YEARS. WAITING FOR YOU. WAITING FOR THE MAN I MET AT SIXTEEN TO COME BACK, SLEEPING WITH A MAN OF ABSENT GAZE WHO STAGGERS INTO MY BED WHEN HE'S TIRED OF BEING IN EVERYONE ELSE'S. I DON'T WANT TO BE YOUR DOG, SATORU. I DON'T WANT YOU TO COME HOME AND FEEL OBLIGATED TO GIVE ME A WALK, A PETTING."
The words come spilling out of you without remedy, every wound bursting open through the stitches. He just looks at you.
"You think I don't love you?"
It hurts to hear him say it, it fucking hurts. You were prepared for the yelling and the coldness, even for a quick vulnerable stare. But never for his trembling voice and soft frown.
You inhale deeply.
"I don't think your love is of any use to me any longer."
Satoru stands up at that.
He's tall, tall and beautiful like Michelangelo's David. All your life, you've been feeling like you had no right to touch him. His infinity assured you that was the case. 
He takes a step in your direction and whispers:
"Then what should I do now?"
Your eyes, fixed on the ground, rise to meet his. There's something in the void and you're not sure if it's just your reflection.
"What?" you mutter. 
"How do I fix it? What do you need that I can't give you? Do you want me to quit work, for us to leave, for me to come home and kiss your temple, to cook for you, to listen to you, to cherish you in bed?” A heartbeat. “I will."
There’s something about the desperation in his tone, you aren’t sure of what to say next.
Satoru knows how to lie, but you don't know how to tell the difference.
"I don't want anything, Satoru. I'm tired," you whisper back, eyes full of water. "I want it to end. I want you to let it end."
He shakes his head, frowning, and through the mist of your tears you recognize that he is crying too.
"There has to be something. Anything. Something I can do, I can do it all."
It's partly true. He's Satoru Gojo; all-powerful, all-knowing. Eternal and young and beautiful and tragic as a poem.
You are just another person. You cried when Suguru left, when Haibara died, when Kento gave up the Jujutsu world and when Ieri locked herself in her office. You clung to Satoru, who resembled an empty seashell more than a person. 
You remember those nights back in 2007. You remember blindfolding him so he wouldn't activate infinity by accident, by reflex, out of overstimulation. You remember cutting his hair when he couldn’t and looking for him in his old antics. You remember taking care of Megumi – always reluctant – and Tsumiki – who you felt was too mature for her age. You remember the burden of being eighteen and having lost a world.
And, above all else, you remember Satoru under the rain. Under the pressure of the world you had lost, the one that he was trying to put back together. There was a month where he seemed catatonic; no smiles, drinking anisette as if it were his one source of life. A thirty-day period followed by the rebirth of a person who looked like the one that stood before, but who seemed cold and alien to you.
"Don't you love me, my darling?" he seeks for you, reaching out a hand to brush against your cheek.
Of course you love him. You love him even like this, like you have loved each and every one of his versions.
"I adore you, Satoru. But I can't stay; you can't fix it."
"Of course I can," he reaches out to you, holding your face between his fingers, "Of course I can."
His lips connect with yours — one last attempt, you don't know by whom.
Snow fills the room and it's cold, but you drink from his mouth, from his everlasting warmth; everything in him lasts forever.
Between kisses, you show him everything you have been for years. Ten years of kisses, of hands looking for hands and flesh searching for flesh.
He moves backwards, keeping you between his hands and guiding you towards the hallway and from the hallway to your shared bed.
This is where it ends.
"Satoru..." you whisper.
"I'm here. I'm here, beautiful, my favorite girl. Talk to me."
A sob escapes you as he utters those words. My favorite girl. That’s what he used to call you. Talk to me, he used to plead, that year at sixteen, when everything was about to start.
Isn't it beautiful that it ends the exact same way?
"Satoru, I'm leaving," you press a farewell kiss to his jaw.
"No, you're not leaving," he murmurs, smiling against your mouth, searching for your lips.
You back away and look at him one more time. And you smile, because there's nothing left.
"I'm already gone. Just let go of me, please."
"But..." he starts, his smile hesitant, "But I'm going to fix it."
You take one of his hands between yours and kiss it as it presses against your cheek, before lowering it to your lap.
"Satoru..." You pronounce each syllable of his name carefully and he stifles a cry. "I'm not going to go any further. I've already made the move and Rhea's expecting me at her house in an hour. I love you, I’ll love you until I run out of kisses, but it does me no good to love you. It is of no use to me, this love. I wanted to tell you. I wanted you one last time. Wasn’t it my turn to be the selfish one for once?"
He watches you, and his mouth shuts close. You've never seen Satoru lose. 
No, that's not true. There was a time, one time, where you saw him lose everything.
His eyes fill up with you one second and empty the next.
This is his second time.
He lifts his chin with an arrogance that no longer means anything and lets go of your hands.
"Go then, if you want. I'm not going to do anything to stop you,” he drags the words with feign disinterest. “I can't do anything."
That's the last gift he can give you. An honesty unbecoming of him, a truth that will never belong to Satoru Gojo ever again. 
From god to human in three kisses and a goodbye.
"Thank you," you say to him. Then you get up, heading for the living room, where your coat and your escape door await you.
He stays in the bedroom – with himself as he always is – after you leave. 
And he hides you where he always hides the things he breaks, in the back of his eyes, where no one can reach to see anything.
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© 2023, MAEBY-CURSED — do not copy/repost/edit.
(reblogs are appreciated !!)
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runningfrom2am · 7 months
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leveling the playing field X
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summary: with nowhere else to go after getting caught cheating to help lucy gray, you both make some desperately stupid decisions.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 3.1k
tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). implications and mentions of abuse, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing but that's neither here nor there
masterlists // nav // requests
a/n: hi all!! i have some slightly annoying news (I'm so sorry) but i think i have to close my taglist for this fic and for other coryo stuff (which i am working on bc I've seen the requests!!) bc its gone up almost 150 people and i can only tag 50 people per post and it is SO much work to tag everyone individually even after i paste them in and i don't want to have to reblog it 2 or 3 times to tag everyone :(. I'm so sorry like i said ik its annoying but if you'd like to be the first to know ab new parts and you're not already in my taglist, feel free to turn on my post notifs!! that way you'll also see everything else including my asks ab the fic where i answer more questions and we talk theories and all that fun stuff :)
next part
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Coriolanus was having a hard time adjusting to the life of a peacekeeper, but he was getting there. He sent off that letter for you almost as soon as he arrived, but was yet to receive a response so that seemed like an answer enough. He had to forget you, especially if he wasn't going back to the Capitol anytime soon.
He was homesick, to say the very least. Both of his bunkmates were out, likely working, but he didn't care much to know exactly where. He was just relieved to have a moment to himself to wallow in his self-pity, chest constricting tighter and tighter with every breath.
A door slammed shut down the hall, followed quickly by his own door opening- at which he held his breath. He had to get it together.
"Is this bunk taken?" Someone asks, a voice not belonging to either of his bunkmates, but he recognizes it nonetheless.
He shot up straight, taking in the appearance of the boy in front of him. "Sejanus!" He had never been happier to see his classmate, hopping out of his top bunk to quickly give him a hug.
"This is a surprisingly warm welcome for someone who almost got you killed." Sejanus chuckled, hugging him back.
Coryo laughs slightly, pulling away and grabbing his shoulders. "Oh, no. Quite the opposite. What are you doing here?"
"About the same as you." He shrugs, sliding his things under the bed below Coryo's. "They were going to expel me, but my dad paid them for my grad certificate and let them send me here. They got a new gym on the condition that they let us both graduate."
Coryo should be relieved, but a graduation certificate doesn't matter much if he's stuck here for the next twenty years. "And Y/N/N?" He asks.
"Y/N?" Sejanus asks, lifting his head back in confusion. "What about her?"
"Did she graduate too?"
"I... I don't know, I didn't know she was in trouble. We were told she was sick."
Coriolanus's stomach drops. That's a story he'd certainly heard before, and he didn't like at all how that ended. He swallows, nodding a little bit as he looks at the floor. "So you didn't see her at all?"
"No... Not since the last time I saw you." Sejanus states. It had been a few weeks now. "But, her mother came to our door a week or so ago, real early in the morning. Ma shooed me away but I heard them talking, it seemed like she didn't know where Y/N was either. She was looking for her, wondering if any of us had seen her."
Again, this is what Coryo had seen before with what happened to Clemensia. Her parents weren't allowed to see her at all while she was in the hospital. "I think she's dead." He admits.
"What? What makes you say that?" His friend gasps.
"I... I heard her screaming when I left our meeting with Highbottom." Coriolanus explains. "At first it was normal Y/N screaming, you know, but then it got worse and worse until it just... stopped." He hoped Sejanus would change his story, that he would remember seeing you at school or on the streets or at one of your parent's obnoxious parties, having a good time, and being yourself. That maybe he had just forgotten, but the look on Sejanus's face tells him that didn't happen.
It was Sejanus's turn to look down now, giving a solemn nod. "I mean, no." He laughs suddenly, shaking his head. "They wouldn't kill her on campus- if you could hear it, she's not dead. They wouldn't kill her just like that, right?" He says, trying to convince himself of that truth. "Surely she's just sick. Maybe grounded, or something."
"Yeah, yeah. Probably..." Coriolanus concedes, hoping that somehow Sejanus was right.
Simultaneously, you were adjusting beautifully to life in District Twelve. You got in the habit of borrowing Lucy Gray and Barb Azure's clothes, and they let you sleep on the floor between their beds. For the first time in your life, you were free. No one knew you, no one had a single expectation of you besides Tam Amber appreciating your help with the goats and occasionally going to the market with Lucy Gray and Maude Ivory to get food. It was refreshing, to say the very least. Everyday you felt yourself unwinding more and more.
"Do you play any instruments, Y/N?" Maude Ivory asks you, skipping to catch up to you as you hike down a trail out to the lake with the rest of the covey.
"I do, actually." You nod at her, a small smile on your face. "Try three."
"Three!" She claps excitedly. "What do you play? You'll have to perform with us! Do they have different instruments where you're from?"
"Not really." You giggle, putting your hands in the pockets of your bright red skirt. "I play the piano, and the violin, which is just like Clerk Carmine's fiddle, but much more boring, and a harp, if you've ever heard of that."
"You play the fiddle?" The young girl smiles.
"Not like he does." You smile at the boy as he walks ahead of you, not paying any attention.
"I'm sure you're just as well." Lucy Gray interjects, bumping her shoulder with yours as she walks next to you. "Maude Ivory, you should hear her projection. I'm yet to hear her sing, but boy, can she yell."
"I can't sing." You laugh, shaking your head. "Back home you don't sing unless you're training for the opera, and you have to start that around the same time you learn to walk. My parents would rather me learn the piano."
"Then why am I the one yellin' at all our shows? You should step up." Maude Ivory giggles, and you just shake your head, ruffling her hair.
"I definitely couldn't do it nearly as well as you." You insist. "Besides, I have stage fright." You joke, mostly to get her off your back.
She laughs as she fixes her hair, running to catch up with the kids in front of her.
"She just adores you." Lucy Gray smiles. "It's nice to have a new face around."
You smile, watching Maude Ivory collect flowers from the side of the road. "She reminds me of my brother. They're about the same age."
"Right, you lent me his guitar." Lucy Gray says, a particular sadness in her tone tipping you off that she believes you should be upset about leaving him. You miss him, sure, but he's better off now with you gone. Besides, he couldn't be any worse than you. Your parents have always doted over him, and there's no doubt in your mind that now that you are gone, it's multiplied.
"Yes. That's him." You reply, accompanying a moment of silence between the two of you.
"Do you miss him?"
"Sure." You nod, kicking a small stone down the path in front of you. "But he's better off without me there. That brings me enough peace to sleep at night."
"Hey, can I ask you something?"
"Shoot." You smile at her, grateful for the change of topic.
"What happened to Coriolanus?" For the first time in weeks, you feel a pinch of discontent in your gut at her question.
"I don't know." You lie, shrugging your shoulders. You don't even know why you felt the urge to lie at all, you knew he was here somewhere but you hadn't seen him once. Out of sight, out of mind is what you have been trying to convince yourself. "He's alive, I'm sure. Peacekeeping in one of the districts probably."
"Oh, I was hoping you would know more."
"It would be nice." You agree. "But he's not exactly in my good graces at the moment."
"It feels so out of character for him to betray you like that, doesn't it?" Lucy Gray asks.
You laugh, shaking your head. "It was unusual. That's what I thought, anyway." You sigh, giving a slight shrug. "I haven't told anyone, but we had... I don't know, a moment, a few weeks ago. During the games. Just a couple of days later and he's throwing me under the bus like I meant nothing to him. We've been friends for years- I thought everything was about to change for the better, and then..."
"That's cruel." She says disapprovingly. "I bet he's sorry now that you're gone with the wind. He's regretting it. I promise you that much."
You smile slightly at the thought, allowing yourself to entertain it, if only for a moment. "He better be."
"Is that for me? Oh, c'mon y'all, you know that I gave up drinkin' when I was twelve..." Lucy Gray says, taking a sip out of the clear liquor bottle someone in the audience handed to her. "Oh, It's to clear my pipes, just to clear my pipes." She clarifies, tossing the bottle back into the audience.
Coriolanus watches leaning against the side wall of The Hob. He's happy to see that Lucy Gray is back to doing what she loved, and she made it home alive and well. He's also more than pleased to finally get off the barracks for something other than work. "Now, who's ready for a song, huh?" She smiles, looking down off the stage to her right. "Okay, comin' right up. First, I'd like to introduce to the stage with a big welcome, a grand ole friend of mine, The lovely Sage!" She says, giggling at her rhyme as another girl climbs up on stage, giving Maude Ivory and Lucy Gray a quick hug each.
Coriolanus looks away as the crowd cheers, scanning the crowd for Sejanus who had just excused himself to grab a drink a couple minutes ago. He's wondering where his roommate could have disappeared to when Lucy Gray's friend starts speaking.
"Well hello, everyone, so lovely to meet you all! I have never felt so welcome anywhere." His head snaps back to the stage. He'd know that Capitol accent anywhere, even as you pause to allow any cheers to quiet down. "I mean that." You grin, hands clutched to your chest. "And that feels so good, considering Lucy Gray all but forced me up here." You laugh, draping an arm over her shoulder, letting her take back over. How could this be real? Coryo is tempted to rub his eyes or pinch himself to make sure he's even awake. He was so sure you were dead, but despite the different name and completely different clothes, he was positive it was you. The pang in his chest made that obvious, along with the wave of surrealism that suddenly surrounded him so all he could see was you.
"Now, my beautiful girl Sage here will be taking over for our friend on the fiddle, we'll give the band a quick break, and we're gonna have a bit of a change of pace while she's lending us her talents." Lucy Gray says, and Coriolanus watches as you take the beat-up violin from the young boy gratefully. He knew you played, but he hadn't heard it for years. You looked so calm, something he wasn't sure he had seen in public since you were young. He can't pull his eyes from your figure as it graces the stage with your presence, lighting up the room even if it was only for him.
A small smile grows on his face as you start to play, several whistles echoing through the room before Lucy Gray even joins in with her singing. He wants to scream, to cheer and clap and yell and tell everyone in this dark, rundown building that this 'Sage' was his. Inarguably and undoubtedly his. Coryo's pride is only curtailed when he recognizes the song; it was the ballad Lucy Gray played in her interview on your brother's guitar.
The sophistication your violin playing brought to the piece almost made it sadder and infinitely more haunting. It's beautiful. Now with your classical touch, the song sets a pit of guilt in his stomach. That somehow, even without you singing, it's now a ballad from you to him.
"Just let me remind you what I am to you..."
He makes eye contact with Lucy Gray as he shifts his gaze away from you. She pauses for only a moment, hands still moving rhythmically over the strings of her guitar. She smiles and nods at him, jaw slightly agape as she glances back at you to see if you noticed him. When it's clear you haven't, she gets back on track with the words within only a moment.
"'Cause I am the one who looks out when you're leaping. I am the one who knows how you were brave..."  Your lips turn up in a small smile as she sings, eyes still shut while you focus. Even though he's sure you're thinking of him, it doesn't bring him much consolation. Well, at least you were thinking of him. He would take it.
The song ends as quickly as it starts, and despite the slower tone, the audience is still excited. More so as the band returns to the stage and you return the violin to Clerk Carmine before turning back around to give a bow. You wave out to the audience, reveling in the whistles and praise before reaching out for an extended hand, accepting it as its owner helps you down. "That was stunnin', where'd you learn to play like that? I've never heard anything quite like it." The man asks, still holding your hand out in between you.
"Oh, thank you. I've been playing my whole life." You grin as the music picks up again.
"Can you dance like you can play?" He asks, lifting your arm to spin you.
"I can certainly try." You laugh, going along with it as he pulls you into a more open space of the crowd, and to Coriolanus, it seems like you're taunting him. You're dancing like you don't have a care in the world, dressed in a skirt that looked like it was made out of a red bed sheet cut up and stitched back together in half-hazard squares, and what looked like one of your t-shirts cut up into a tank top that exposes most of your stomach and back. Appallingly too, a smile present on your face that he had dreamt of seeing again one day but was certain he never would. The only problem is that you're dancing with someone else. Not that he was much of a dancer, but he could try if he had known that's what you wanted.
He's planning his method of attack. He can't leave without speaking to you, because he doesn't even know if you'll be back here the next time he gets a day off. Though, based on your appearance and newfound carelessness, it's likely.
His urge is just to kiss you, but the only thing holding him back is that it could set you off. If you hadn't heard his apology from miles away, would you still be angry at him? But actions speak louder than words. He knows that physicality works with you, and it was hard to deny that he hadn't dreamt of how soft your lips felt on his for weeks. One time was just simply not enough for Coryo.
Coriolanus scowls as the man you're dancing with spins you again, making you laugh as he drapes an arm around your waist.
Maybe he should get Sejanus, see if he's seen you yet.
Another spin, and a hand sliding lower down your bare back as the man pulls you closer, his fingers landing on the waistband of your skirt. When was the last time that scumbag had so much as washed his hands? Coryo wonders to himself, rage boiling up under his skin.
Kiss her. Definitely kiss her.
But if the song choice was any indicator, you definitely weren't pleased with him. It couldn't be, though, because how would you know he would be in attendance? Coryo finds his feet carrying him through the crowd, pushing past a dozen carelessly drunk people in his effort to get to you before he's even thought it all through.
Your brow furrows as a body forces itself between you and your dancing partner. "Hey! What are you-" You cut yourself off, hypnotized by the cold blue eyes staring down at you.
That's my girl. Even though you're angry, Coriolanus is grateful to be the object of your gaze once more.
"'Scuse me, man, do you mind?" The man says, making an effort to push Coryo away. He turns, and before you can intervene he's swinging his fist right at the other guy's face, finding its target in a fraction of a second.
He stumbles back, grabbing his face as it immediately drips blood from his nose onto the floor. There are gasps in the crowd as it disperses around you.
"Hey, settle down, settle down now." You hear Lucy Gray call out amidst the music playing in the background while you grab the back of Coryo's shirt, pulling him back before he continues to beat up your dancing partner.
"Coriolanus, what are you doing here?" You shout over the music. He shakes out his fist, turning back to you now and grabbing your face, pulling you closer to kiss you instead of dignifying you with a response. His actions would certainly speak louder.
You want to be angry, but that falters as you feel his lips on yours again, his hands planted firmly on either side of your waist as he holds onto you so tight you weren't sure breathing was an option- even if you could. You followed him here, of course you wanted to see him, but how could he betray you so easily and expect forgiveness in a kiss?
It takes you longer than it probably should to build up the courage to place your hands on his chest, shoving him back. "What is wrong with you?" You spit, looking him up and down in the blue uniform signified of a peacekeeper off duty.
"What's wrong with me?" He asks, looking around and gauging how many people were even taking notice. "What do you mean, Y/N/N, I wanted to-" Clearly you hadn't heard his silent apology, or it just wasn't enough.
"Hey!" You hiss, jumping at him and attempting to cover his mouth at the use of your nickname, and he quickly swats away your hand. "Let's go. Outside, now." You shove him back by his chest, pointing towards the exit.
You look up at Lucy Gray on stage, still singing as she watches you nervously. You give her a nod and a small reassuring smile before linking arms with Coryo and guiding him toward the door. Just like old times.
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taglist: @keziahcore, @kitscutie, @annaelise, @serrendiipty, @fratboyharrysgf0201, @totallynotkaibiased, @stelleduarte, @klplynn, @secretsicanthideanymore, @bejeweledreverie, @gloryekaterina, @andrewgarfieldsbitch, @queenofspades6, @pepperonipastas, @ladybug0095, @lunamothwrites, @sbrewer21, @mus-tbe-a-weasley, @splxtscreen, @unclecrunkle, @karmaswitch, @coconut-dreamz, @nekee-lilac02, @ooooglymoooogly, @riddlerloveb0t, @lovedbalances, @notyourwildestdream, @snowlandson-top, @too-lit-for-fanfic, @utopiakys, @deafeningballoonnacho, @roosterschanelslut, @chmpgneprblem, @cosmoetik, @lauravanderbooben20, @dry0campa, @luclue, @lokidala, @urvampgfsworld, @carolanns-world @nan-nie, @shakespearseclipse, @iovemoonyy, @notyoursweetheart-honey,  @xyzstar, @eatpizzasass, @slytherinholland, @queenofshinigamis, @elodiebeau, @soulessjourney
i've closed my taglist for coryo now!! sorry to everyone who wanted to be added, but unfortunately there was significantly more demand than i expected and i sadly just cant tag everyone. BUT! if you still want notifications when i post for this fic, please turn on my post notifs!!
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sanjisboyfie · 7 months
Text
rockstar ! trafalgar law headcanons
trafalgar law x male reader ; he might seem ooc but he isn't, trust me. this is how law is supposed to be perceived, i talked to oda himself and sorted this all out with him before publishing.
-> listened to brooklyn baby by lana while writing this...hehehehheheehhehehehehe ps. i think that is my favorite photo of manga law ever oh my fuking godhes so hot.
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rockstar ! law . . . did not get famous overnight, but also did not get famous on purpose...if that makes sense. like his ass was up posting his guitar covers on youtube for years before someone reached out to him on joining a proper band. but also he wasn't posting those guitar covers with the intent of getting noticed. he just wanted people to see how SICK he was on guitar (he's a not-so-secret narcisst). but also another reason he posted them was because of you, his boyfriend who he had been in a relationship for a year at that point, was encouraging him to do so. your support for him and his talent was really assuring and fuelled him to be confident enough to post them online. (he was kind of against the idea at first, probably saying romantic shit like, "i want only you to hear the songs i play," but eventually was swayed when you spent many minutes convincing him to)
rockstar ! law . . . when he finally goes on tour with his band, he is pretty insistent and headstrong in allowing you to come with. he doesn't care if he needs to pay out of pocket money to fund your stay with him and his bandmates, he will if he has to. because he's not leaving you for months on end, pursuing the dream that was only possible because of how you supported him through it. there's absolutely no way he's going on tour without his boyfriend.
law's tattooed arms were crossed over his wide chest as he listened to their manager and a team of people tell him and his band about their upcoming plan for their first ever tour.
after the end, when it was about time for everything to wrap up, law calmly asked, "what about bringing significant others?" this makes the executives share looks with one another before apologetically smiling at him.
"sorry, another person added onto the travel, boarding, and all that will not be able to fit into out budg-"
"then i'm not going," law says simply, already getting ready to storm out of the room. but the manager stops him by his wrist.
"n-now, let's not get hasty! this was not something we accounted for-"
"well you should've, i'm not going anywhere without him. i'm not gonna leave him." law states stubbornly, glaring down at the man that was much shorter than him, "he's either coming with us or i'm not going at all."
a silence passed over the room and his bandmates were internally praising law for having the balls to stand up to these powerful guys so carefree like that.
maybe that's what had made him such a good rockstar.
his passions that he was not willing to back down for, he'd settle for his desires being fulfilled or nothing at all.
what they didn't know was that all of those passions were singlehandedly fuelled by his immense love for you.
"a portion of it will have to come out of your pocket, then. we really don't have the funds to bring on another person. so if you can't-"
"i can manage. if that's all, and we're all good. me and [name] will be ready by the designated time and meet you all at the location with all of our things," law easily says, walking out of the room with his broad shoulders being the last thing the executives saw.
"wow, law is so cool!" a memeber, stage-named penguin, said with stars in his eyes.
"don't get any ideas." the manager immediately cuts them off before they can gush further.
rockstar ! law . . . is very openly gay for you <3 doesn't really care that people are expecting him to act a certain way because he is a rockstar, he could care less. he's said time and time again that the only reason these fans of his have the oppurtunity to appreciate him to such an extent is because of you. had it not been you encouraging him to post his covers, he would not be standing on that stage for them to admire. so he can be as shameless as he wants in displaying his affection for you. naturally, law isn't the most into pda, but when he hears annoying people batter him for being so into you, his boyfriend, he feels the need to piss them off even further.
law's calloused fingers were playing with the flesh of your waist as he held you close. it was dark in the after party room so he made sure to keep you secure to his side so that he wouldn't lose you in the crowd.
there were a bunch of celebrities that attended their recent show scattered around the room, but he didn't care for them. not when he had you on his arm. plus, he didn't really like these after parties that much - he'd much prefer to be on the tour bus cuddling with you.
feeling unimpressed with the party, he turned to you to feel some comfort. when he saw how you were just taking in the view of everyone, he leaned down to kiss you, surprising you at the sudden affection. but soon, the both of you were just pressed against the wall of the room and blatantly making out with each other. his raven hair was messy by the time you two pulled away from each other and that knowing smirk of his was proudly plastered on his face.
the next morning, the internet were ripping law into pieces for still being in a relationship with you despite having access to as many beautiful women, handsome men, and alluring people that he could have wanted. he was a talented, well-known name in the scene with a handsome face and charming demeanor. he could have had anyone. and some were frustrated, for some reason, that he was still with you.
five years going strong in your relationship wasn't enough for the press to believe he was satisfied and completely settled down with you, for some reason...
he groans the moment he sees the headlines, throwing his phone to the mattress and turning into your side to be comforted by you once again. the only person capable of calming him down still remains to be only you.
"love you," he says against your skin, making you laugh at the sleepy confession.
"love you, too, law. you know i don't care about the stupid shit they say," you comment, making note of how tight his arms were around your waist.
he doesn't acknowledge what you say, only peppering more kisses to your bare skin.
rockstar ! law . . . kinda perfectly fits the rockstar bf aesthetic to a T. he's wearing the leather jackets and the other staple fashion pieces that scream "rockstar boyfriend." it doesn't help the way the clothes so perfectly fall into place on his body. he enjoys matching with you too, even if your aesthetics may not match. if he's wearing a heavy jewlery piece, like a necklace, ring, or bracelet, he buys a matching one that you would like and would be able to style. he doesn't mind discarding his iconic leather jacket for you if you are feeling cold. and of course, he's attentive, protective, and caring for you (and only you) - perfectly fuelling the fantasies many people have of that "rockstar boyfriend persona"
law was not known for being hot-headed. there were never any stories of him giving customer service people a hardtime, or of him trashing hotel rooms like many others in the same genre as him were guilty of doing. his overall attitude was off standish, but polite.
with a slight difference whenever he was seen with you. still off standish and polite, but specially doting and careful when he is with you.
his arm is always slithered around your waist or shoulders and he is always seen attentively listening to whatever it is you're rambling about. his eyes focused in on you, and only you, show that he is blocking out the rest of the world and listening to you intently.
the way he almost, kind of, definitely glares at people that interrupt your time together before he softens his gaze the moment you catch him making faces and scold him. he's completely wrapped around your finger, despite his seemingly intimidating and threatening persona, he's complete mush with you.
his leather jacket was thrown over your shoulders as he protectively stood behind you. tonight, the two of you were at the bar and watching the live performance of the local band of the town you were in. due to your begging, he agreed to get off of the counter stool and dance and sway to the music with you.
his arms are resting in front of you as he holds your hands in his, completely engulfing them with the size difference. the jacket around you is practically drowning you as well.
he's rocking you back and forth, occasionally leaning down and pressing a kiss to your cheek and whispering sweet nothings to you. your cute moment unfortunately comes to an end though. some drunkard knocks into the two of you and spills their entire pint of beer on you and your clothing.
your first reaction is to take off law's jacket to spare it from reeking of the beverage, but law's first reaction is to push you behind him and size up the guy that knocked into you.
"the hell is your problem, man?! it was an accident!" the man defends himself when he feels threatened by your boyfriend.
law's one hand is holding your own, wanting to make sure you stay close to him some way, while the other is clenched at his side to form a fist. noticing how he was very close to landing a hit on the idiot's face, you pull him back by his shirt, "c'mon, people are staring,"
"don't care, this guy has got his head so far up his ass," law simply says, genuinely not caring at all that people were looking at him as if he were crazy.
"law, let's just go," he turns his head to you, his gaze softening as he turns.
he waits a couple seconds before speaking in whispers, "do you really want to go? i can just take care of him-"
"i do, really. let's just go, babe, it's alright, it was an accident," you continued trying to convince him.
"he could've done it on purpose, he could be a complete, total asshole,"
you laughed at his reasoning of giving the guy a lesson, shaking your head, "let's just go and get out of here."
law doesn't seem satisfied with having to let the guy go without any reprecussions, but if law is anything: he's a boyfriend that listens to his boyfriend.
so he walks away with you close by, tight grip on your hand, and silently cursing the asshole the entire ride home.
rockstar ! law . . . very casually dedicates the most romantic, sensual, loving, etc. songs to you when he is on stage.
"this one is for the man standing at side stage, waiting for me,"
"i've been with the same idiot for 5 years now and this song is for him,"
"this is [name]'s favorite, by the way. so if you don't like it, you can fuck off,"
rockstar ! law . . . who doesn't understand the way some fans really idolize your relationship. he loves you a lot and he's glad that they're accepting of that fact, but why are people on the internet asking him and you to adopt them...? or why are they calling the both of you their "daddies"? he's confused. he at least pieces together that they're being supportive, but he doesn't truly understand what they mean when they say stuff like "i wanna go to paris" underneath his posts of you and him on his instagram.
rockstar ! law . . . whose favorite audience is still you. he loves playing his guitar for you, just in the quiet of your room (when you're finally home for tour) and with you on the bed with his strumming as background noise to your reading, or whatever hobby you commit to.
his fingers move with such familiarity he can easily take his eyes off of the neck of the guitar. he looks at you with such love and care that it would make any onlookers vomit at how sweet he was being.
the song that he was playing was faintly resembling "can't help falling in love" by elvis, with his own personal twist. the moment you recognize the chords and notes, though, you look at him with a deadpan expression on your face.
he smirks, tilting his head, "what?" he'll ask with that annoying knowing look on his face.
"you're so cheesy," you comment with an eye roll.
"oh, don't be an asshole now,"
"not being an asshole, just being honest!"
law puts down the acoustic guitar, walking over to where you were and planting a kiss to the top of your head. clearing his throat, he begins to mimic the singer with exaggeration. it spurs you into laughter at his impression, which he only grins wider at. your laugh still remains his favorite sound in the whole world.
this soft side was only shown behind closed doors with you. and you liked it that way. no one else got to see your usually intimidating boyfriend with his walls completely down. how sweet and doting he actually was. polar opposite to that persona he put on whenever he walked onto those grand stages.
he was just yours right now.
and as he leans down to press a passionate kiss to your lips, you can smile against his with comfortability. and warmness spreads throughout both of your chests as he smiles back.
and finally, rockstar ! law who definitely gets your name tattooed somewhere on his body. probably on his hands or arms tbh because that is the most visible body part of his that gets photographed and noticed due to how he plays the guitar. that way if anyone wants to take photos of him in his element, they'll see a small part of you that he carries with him everywhere.
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displ3azant · 2 months
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CURRENTLY ASK-ABLE: - Unpleasant - Infected (Plez oversees the questions, though.)
(Before cut is In-Character.)
Hiii! Helloooo!
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Hello!!!!!! Hehe, thiz iz actually super weird trying to write an intro-- give me a minute.
So, HIII!!!!!!! I'm Unpleasant! That'z not a joke, that iz literally my name. There'z no "deep reason" behind it, it iz literally just what people refer to me az. But, if that'z too weird, I do also go by Unplez or Plez for short.
Uh, pronounz? I don't really care, actually. I don't have a set gender, I've never really met a gradient who doez. That being said, since I started hanging with Infected I have been called he and she specifically a lot... so if it'z easiest for you, just roll with the crowd.
Right, so... the blog. Thatz thiz blog, haha! Well, the easy answer iz I waz super bored, Infected can suck a huge ####, and I like talking about myself! But... I kind of suck at talking in general, so I guess I'll type and answer questionz about myself.
BUT KNOW MY BOUNDARIEZ BEFORE YOU ASK QUESTIONZ! 👇👇👇
(Below cut is Out-Of-Character.)
To those who know me: Good to see you're still stickin' with me! I promise I will make an effort to make this blog much less of a dumpster fire like the last one.
And to those who are only now coming across this blog: Hello! My name is Hex. You don't have to call me "Mod Hex", or anything, just "Hex" will do. I'm the only guy running this thing here. I'll talk more about myself soon, because oversharing is what I do best.
Blog-Context
So, if it wasn't obvious enough from the intro, this is an ask/rp blog for the Unpleasant Gradient from Regretevator, but specifically in the context of the plez-centric au I have created for him. Or, well, the "AU" in question is actually just some freaky amalgamation of all my fucked up headcanons, which means...
I AM NO LONGER DOING DIRECT BLOG ASSOCIATIONS! Really sorry about that, I love my friends with all my heart but if I wanna keep consistency, I'm gonna have to "write the story" on my own. However, I do want to give full credit to my friends @sk8tr1101 and @party-noob for some major concepts involving Unpleasant, especially Audrey who already has some awesome ideas herself. Go check them both out!
MAIN TAGS:
#unpl3zansw3rz - Asks
#unpl3zrambl3z - Non-ask related posts/reblogs
#unpl3zlor3 - Plot points and similar
#ooc - Out-of-character post
OTHER TAGS (to be updated):
(nothing yet, hehe)
Blog-Owner
So hiiii, I'm Hex. If I can be bothered, out-of-character posts will either have the #ooc tag, be in purple text, or be signed off with my name. I'd prefer if you refer to me using he/it pronouns, thnx!
I'd also like you all to keep in mind I am 17 years old, therefore a minor, and even if I wasn't 17 I do not appreciate NSFW/Explicit jokes towards me, ESPECIALLY if you don't know me. It's one thing when you're my very close friends or my partner, it's another thing when you are a stranger on the internet asking me things I should not have to answer.
My other accounts are: @hexexists - my main blog, if you receive notifications from this account, please know it is just me! @hexational - my regretevator blog @geometricgiovanni - a Jeremy ask/rp blog set in the same universe as this one! Please note, however, that in the context of this blog, Unpleasant is not aware of the blog nor would he like to be.
Ask/RP-Boundaries
Let's start off by reiterating that I AM NOT OKAY WITH NSFW/EXPLICIT ASKS IN ANY CAPACITY! Sick of getting them, they're repetitive and annoying. Asking safe-for-work questions involving Unpleasant's anatomy is one thing, but I am not responding to ANYTHING involving genetalia.
ALSO! I am very unlikely to respond to things that is either hard to make a unique drawing for or don't progress the story (unlocking "lore" and such). I'm watching your ass, Mango, I know what you like to do (/lh). Joke asks are still okay, you don't *have* to progress story, but please keep in mind my "criteria" for answering asks when sending them. A clean inbox gives me a clear mind. I do not like notifications.
Shipping content: Shipping content is okay, but I don't care much for romance personally and so will likely not play much into it. Please don't push anything, I guess, and nothing that promotes proshipping or any kind of literally illegal pairing. If you dislike any direction taken ship-wise for this blog, then block me and move on with your day.
Roleplaying: While I'd prefer to not be in direct contact with other rp blogs, I am totally cool with roleplaying side stories and stuff, interactions and such! Please keep in mind though, Unpleasant in this is not a very social person, so you're probably not going to get the reaction you want.
Also! I think OCs are super cool and am happy to respond/interact with them as well! However,
PLEASE DON'T SEND YOUR GRADIENT OCS TO THIS ACCOUNT IF YOU WANT ME TO DRAW THEM! Please instead send them to @hexational! A lot of people were sending me their Gradient ocs to the previous Unpleasant account, and as much as I love seeing Gradient ocs and Gradient sonas, I'd love to be able to draw them, and if you are just asking an opinion on them and not an in-character ask or a genuine question involving other gradients I'd much prefer you send them to the account previously tagged!
That's pretty much all I can think of! Sorry for the long post, I just have a lot to say hehe
Lots of love, - Hex
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mollymooo · 17 days
Note
Hi ! I would like to make a request if I can please. This is my first time doing this, so I hope I did it right!
I often read things like Spencer and the reader don't have a good relationship, he says something really mean and the reader -
just breaks down and cries, or goes with their tail between their legs and immediately forgives Spencer after not even feeling an OUNCE of anger at what he said.
It annoys me. You can believe that if someone who doesn't like me for any reason insults me or verbally hurts me, I won't forgive them after a simple apology 😤.
Do you think you could make a scenario where the reader really gets angry and doesn't take the shit Spencer throws at them with tears and immediately forgives him like a puppy in need of love, please?
Like, the reader is ANGRY and makes him feel it and makes him run to make amends.
all i wanted was you.
tw:lots of yelling and cursing, a little OOC spencer, sorry!
summary: something had felt off about your fiancée and it’s time to finally talk to him about this.
first, i love me some good angst and this rlly got my gears turning 🤭 second, tysm for the ask!! my asks are pretty much always open so feel free to request some ideas! also sorry for this being so late, writers block is cray cray
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He had left abruptly,
In the middle of the night just like he had many times before. The bed felt cold and empty without the warmth of your beloved fiancée. He felt cold. These past few weeks Spencer had been away from home more than ever.
You missed him.
You chewed slightly at your nails, constantly watching the clock with the slight tinge of nerves poking at your chest. The door slammed open and you jumped as a bag was half heartedly thrown on the floor
“Hey.” He slammed the door, much to your dismay due to the time of night. His eye bags were much more prominent than you seemed to remember.
“How was work?” You stood up slightly with your arms crossed, the nerves still very much there.
“Fine.” Spencer sat down on the sofa and leaned his head back with an exaggerated sigh, and kicked his feet up on the coffee table.
“Can we… can we talk?” You sit down timidly next to him while his eyes watch your every move.
“About?”
“Us.”
He sits up slightly, crossing his arms and staring into your eyes, “Of course… what’s up?”
“Well, trust me when I say this, I understand that your job is very demanding and i’m sure you’d love to be home more often just as much as I would..” You trailed off slightly, almost rambling to yourself.
“I just think… It would be nice if we could spend more time together.” He scrunched his eyebrows slightly and sighed heavily as he leaned back on the sofa. You add, almost pathetically at the end, “I miss you, Spencer.”
“I understand, but my job doesn’t really allow that baby.” He looks back at you, obviously not willing to keep talking. He was rubbing his temples with his eyes scrunched close
“I know, but… even when your off, you’re either posted in your office here and shoo me away when I try to say hello, or your at some library or-“
“Working in the FBI isn’t exactly easy.” He snaps. His eyes didn’t hold that same warmth like when you met him, he didn’t look at you like the flowers after the rain anymore.
It hurt.
“Baby, I know..”
“Do you? I mean, I work day and night to make sure you can live comfortably. I see the worst people in the world, the scum of the planet, just to you are happy. I work consistently to make sure WE can live happily.” He stands up suddenly, walking over to the wall across from you, leaning against it as his hands move wildly with his words. “And what do you do?”
“What do I do..?” Something about his malice. The venom hanging in his words doesn’t sit right with you.
“Yeah, what DO you do? Complain? Because thats what it seems like.”
“I’m sorry?”
“I mean, you have everything you ever wanted. What else can I give you?”
“Some love, and affection maybe once a week?” You snapped back.
“Oh yeah, let’s make this all about you.”
You stand from the shared couch. Your hands formed small fists as the fire coursed through your veins. “I understand your frustration with your job, but that does NOT mean you take it out on me.”
“You don’t understand! My job isn’t easy. It’s hard enough balancing this, and a relationship” He moves from his place on the wall, getting somewhat closer to you.
“You agreed to this when we got engaged. YOU agreed to take care of me. It would be nice too see my own fiancé for more that two or three hours everyday.” You could feel your face getting hotter as your voice got louder.
“We can’t all get what we want.”
You pause, forcing down hot tears with your fists unclenching slightly
“Who are you?” You shook your head “Because right now? You are not the man I promised to marry.” You look down at the ring on your finger, the small diamonds sparkling in the orange glow from the lights. You carefully pull it off your finger and set it on the coffee table, grabbing your phone and wallet while swiftly walking past Spencer
“Babe… come back.” He follows you as you throw a pair of shoes on and unlock the door. His hand grazes your shoulder and something inside you snaps. It wasn’t a loving graze dripping with apologies. It was harsh. You pull your shoulder away violently and stare at him with unforgiving eyes
“Don’t touch me. Call me when you’re ready to talk like an adult.”
The door slams behind you, and you walk.
You walk and walk while tears run down your face with red hot intention. Something was different, and you’re not sure if it would be the same again. The Spencer that was left in the apartment, with his head between his hands wondering what he just ruined wasn’t the Spencer you had loved.
Maybe his work had been stressful, or maybe his day had just been awful. That’s no excuse for his to treat you like the spider on the bottom of his shoe. Like filth.
The park bench below you was cold and unforgiving. Your phone sat beside you silent, as you had put it on do not disturb shortly after you left. You chewed the options on your plate and hated the bitterness of each one.
Leaving Spencer was the first option, going back to your apartment in the morning, packing up all your stuff and leaving. It was an option, but it was not the one you wanted to pick.
Staying at a hotel or friend’s house until you were ready to talk was another. It was the most responsible and level headed decision but the fire inside your chest made it seem unlikely.
Maybe you just need to go back. But your unwillingness to back down and his attitude made that seem like a decision that would end with tears.
You sighed and picked up your phone. Your eyes budged at the view of 28 missed calls and 50 messages.
Come back.
Please.
I’m so sorry.
I just want to talk.
I wasn’t listening
Among others. The messages were glazed with apologies and they kept coming, one after another. The phone buzzed in your hand as Spencers call rang through the silent park
“Yes?” You answered, against your own judgment you answered. Even under the anger, he was still Spencer.
“Oh thank god. Where are you?” His voice was breaking as he spoke and wind blew in the background
“Are you looking for me?”
“Of course! I don’t want you to get hurt, I never did. Please… come home.” He sounded broken.
“Get back inside. I’ll meet you at home, Spencer.”
The walk back to your apartment felt shameful almost. You didn’t want to forgive him, but the love you held for him was stronger than any argument.
The door opened softly to a silent hallway. You could hear soft cries in the distance.
“Spencer?” You could hardly walk three steps in the house before his towering figure was hugging your frame with such gentleness.
“I am so sorry.” You could feel him sobbing in your arms while you petted his hair gently. “I was stressed out because of a case and I should’ve told you before we started arguing.”
“Spencer..”
“I didn’t mean to hurt you. I love you with everything I have and I never want to hurt you. You mean the absolute world too me and losing you is out of the question.” He held you tightly, as if when he let go, you would walk back out the door and not look back.
“I want us to work. Us is what wakes me up in the morning with any energy to start my day. I go to work with the excitement that I get to come home and see you, even if it’s for a few hours. I’m so sorry I said what I did, and I promise it’ll never happen again.”
He sounded broken and desperate. Desperate too keep the one human who has loved him despite his flaws. The one person who has loved him past his teeth.
“Thank you for the apology. It may take me a bit too fully forgive you. Can we please go talk like adults now?” You tipped his head off your shoulder and gave him a gentle forehead kiss, anything harder and he would’ve shattered.
“Of course.”
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eetherealgoddess · 5 months
Note
Could u pls write pt 2 for CAUGHT ..?
It was so good, Ur writing is js so amusinggg
(It totally OK if u don't want to)
😼💞
Alright, this is gonna be angsty af and I don’t think you’re gonna expect the ending so I hope you enjoy it! Sorry if Sanzu or anyone else seems ooc I really tried to keep them in character.
Read the first part for context!! Link below!! ♡︎♡︎♡︎
Part One
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ꨄCaught 2ꨄ
Oneshot - Yandere Cheater Au
Sanzu Haruchiyo & Haitani Brothers x Reader
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Not fully proofread
MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, AO3, AND WATTPAD UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!
I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.
Notice:
✩Y/n is 18+. I picture him as a black male but you can see him however.
✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.
✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.
✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.
✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable
✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.
Enjoy!
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Caught 2
“So you work for a criminal organization?” You question Sanzu as you sit on the bed with your knees against your chest, arms circled around them. Fortunately, Sanzu didn’t have to follow the Haitani Brothers to work today so he stayed home to answer any questions you have to regain trust, though you haven't accepted or declined their ‘offer,’ you decided to give him a chance to tell you the truth about everything he either lied about or never informed you. He sits beside you, body still bare as he leans his head on your shoulder, blanket only covering his bottom half.
“And the Haitanis too?”
“Yeah.”
You pause in thought, repeating what has been confirmed in your mind. Everything began to make more sense considering the situation from the night before.
“How long have you been cheating on me?” You grimace as the ache in your chest appears, the memory still causing a type of pain you won’t be able to rid any time soon. His lack of response caused you to feel worse as your stomach dropped, anxiety high as you sat in discomfort while holding back your tears.
“A year.” You couldn’t look at him, pushing him off as you curled into a fetal position, facing away from his form. You don’t bother to fight off the arms circling around you as his body spooned yours, hugging you tightly. Half way needing the comfort as well as not having the strength as you humiliatingly allow the tears to fall.
“Why?” You say in a shaky voice, his hand gently stroking your stomach as you feel his breath on your neck.
“I love them as much as I love you.” He whispers, fingers gripping your skin as he listens to you weep.You turn your head to meet his eyes.
“How could you say that? We were together first! Y-you betrayed me!” His palm reaches your face as he hovers over you from behind.
“I’m sorry.” He places his lips on yours as you move your lips back eagerly, desperate to revive the old feeling you would get before you found out about everything. The smacking of your lips echoed through the bedroom as he climbed on top of you, the covers sliding down as his naked body sits on top of yours.
Your cock springs to life against his ass as your hands are placed on his chest. Both of his hands gently grab your wrists before pinning them beside your head. He moves slightly against your cock, testing the waters as you quietly moan against his mouth.
“Such a good slut for us. Dirty boy, what would Y/n think if he saw you like this?” Ran teases with a smirk as he continues his thrusting, making intense eye contact with Sanzu who responds with another loud moan before Rin smacks his ass.
You continue to ignore the painful memories, Sanzu releasing your wrists to wipe your tears with his thumbs, his lips catching your tongue in a sucking motion as you feel his cock harden against your stomach. One of his hands reaches back, brushing against your cock before rubbing his thumb along your tip.
“He likes it. So fucking dirty.” Rin chuckles as he accelerates his thrusts. “Tell us how much of a dirty whore you are.” He halts before bending over to grab Sanzu’s hard cock as he gives it a squeeze. Ran pulls Sanzu’s head off of his cock.
“I’m such a fucking slut! I’m a dirty whore! Keep fucking me, please! I’m so close!”
Your eyes are shut tight as you begin to sweat, pleasure shooting from your cock from his touch. The touch you thought was only shared between the two of you. The touch that felt only special to you. Sanzu’s lips move from your mouth as they make their way down your neck, kissing the scar he left from biting you yesterday. You shiver as he whispers, “I can’t let you go,” against your neck. …a bullet made contact with his stomach, his body falling with a thud.
“WHAT THE FUCK!” You yell at the intruders before hopping up and running to the bleeding man…
The pink haired beauty spits in his hand before he wraps it around your cock, rubbing your shaft before he lowers himself, moaning out as your erection is engulfed in his ass. You suck in a breath as he picks himself up before dropping down. He rolls his hips, meeting your thrusts as you both accelerate, your hands holding onto the back of his head and neck as he grips your shoulders.
“We’ll never be through! You promised!” He says before he pulls his arm back and lands a direct punch to your face.
He pulls back with a heated gaze, placing his hands on your chest as he speeds up, hair flapping as his head falls back, mouth slightly open as you eye the pretty sight in awe. You wet one of your hands with spit before wrapping around his shaft, tugging as his hips buck harder.
“Good. So good.” He whispers, his nails piercing your chest as you speed your hand.
“S-stop!” You yell, grabbing Sanzu’s hair before pulling him off your cock, a string of saliva and cum hanging from his mouth as you eyed his gorgeous, red face. His eyes glazed over as he moans from the grip on his head, body rocking as Ran fucks into him.
“What is th-!” He cuts you off by desperately attaching his lips to yours.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He whispers against your lips with one hand balancing himself as he rubs your cock.
“S-Sanzu! Wait.” The memories that invade your mind begin to distract you, becoming too overwhelming to handle as he rides your cock. Pulling your hand back, you place it on his shoulder, slightly pushing him away. He doesn’t budge, continuing to pound his own prostate against your erection as he bites his lip. You hold back from bucking your hips as you sit up, only to be pushed back down by his hands.
“He’s still not convinced.” Rin says, motioning his head for Sanzu to kiss him. You hear the lip smacking of both men next to your ear, the pain in your chest deepening as well as your conflicted feelings of being aroused by the display.
“Stop!” You yell out, sweat dripping from your head as he pins your wrists. He narrows his blue eyes.
“Why can’t you accept me?” He hissed, riding harder as both of his hands wrap around your throat. Your hands attempt to peel his fingers off before you try to push him off, his hands cutting your air way off as your body rocks against the bed.
“You like this, huh? Watching him get fucked while he takes your dick in his throat. You just wanted to be included, yeah?” You can hear Rin’s smirk as Ran chuckles, sweat covering his body as his face becomes darker.
“You’re a dirty boy, too. That's why you watched us for so long. Maybe you’re a slut too, yeah?” Ran grins.
You scratch his arms as blood oozes out, attempting to free yourself as his grip tightens, your face tight as it becomes warmer, your feet kicking the bed as you try to grip him somehow to push him off. He only stares down at you with a cold glare, pink hue still on his face as he nears his orgasm.
“It’s okay if it feels good. Embrace it, my love.” Sanzu says softly against your cock…
Black dots begin to fill your vision as you struggle to get Sanzu off of you. Finally, another pair of arms wrap around the pink haired fiend before he’s yanked off of you, hands releasing their tight grip as you sit up and cough violently, catching your breath before you fall back down weakly.
“I just need him to understand, Rin!” Sanzu growls frustratingly as he’s held in the purple haired man’s arms, attempting to free himself before Rin forces him to make eye contact.
“I know, but you have to calm down.”
You ignore the older Haitani caressing your forehead with his thumb as well as checking your breathing. Your eyelids shut, darkness engulfing your vision.
Ran looks back at the two men.
“I think we’ll give it to him. There’s no coming back from this.”
You wake up in a bed, sitting up as you stretch and yawn. You look at the dim lamp as well as the dark room, attempting to remember your surroundings. You look at the door in confusion when three people you don’t recognize walks in.
One of the men smiles before he sits on the bed.
“Do you remember your name?”
Your eyebrows furrow as you nod your head.
“Y/n?” The man smiles wider as he says, “Good. Do you remember anything in the past twenty four hours?”
You think for a minute before you shake your head. You also say no when he asks if you remember who he is or the other two people in the room. They all give each other a look.
Come to find out, you recently suffered from a head injury, causing you to forget not only some of your past but the past twenty four hours as well. Including the men who claim to be your boyfriends. Apparently you’ve all been together for three years. You had a nurse who came to check in on your amnesia for a week before you got back on your feet. At least one of your boyfriends stayed with you while the others went to work at some business firm they work for.
A year passes and everything is back on track, as well as your blooming relationship. The sex is enticingly good, your boyfriends seeming to know all your favorite spots as well as helping you learn theirs. They replaced all your old belongings such as your devices with new ones, clear of any old data. You all had been living happily together, until one day, home alone and bored, you eyed the office. Curious you looked around, coming across a filing cabinet. Opening it, you found an old phone. A weird feeling settled in your gut as you set it on the charger.
While it charges, you check the files. The names catch your eye as you pass through. Grabbing one, you open it, gasping as you drop it from your hand. Your body trembles as you eye the gruesome photo. Eyebrows furrowing as your palm covers your mouth, you read the document attached.
Victim? Traitor? Bonten? What the fuck?
You set that one back, grabbing another file and opening it to view the content. Gasping once more with wide eyes as you stare at another ‘traitor’ that Bonten took care of, a gruesome detailing of the incident. Seeing the phone turn on next to you, shakily grabbing it, you eye the picture of you and Sanzu in confusion. Why is it just you two? You search through the phone’s photos as well as the messages, gaining clue after clue of what truly happened with your ‘head injury.’ You figured out every single lie they told you since you woke up a year ago.
You couldn’t stop the vomit from shooting out of your throat, gagging and dry heaving as you breathe heavily, sweat covering you as you frantically get off of the floor, not bothering to clean the mess. You run out of the office straight into a chest. The hairs on your arms stick up as you look at the person you thought you knew in fear.
“What a curious little kitten.”
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180 notes · View notes
dyns33 · 5 months
Text
Family business
I still need to watch the show but I wanted to do a Alfie Solomons x reader. I'm sure all the characters are ooc, so sorry about that.
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The good thing about being part of the Shelby family was that its members were very united because blood ties were sacred. The problem about being part of the Shelby family was the same thing.
Y/N often repeated it to herself, closing her eyes to keep her calm, while her brothers asked ridiculous or difficult things, considering that she didn't have the right to say no to them, just as they didn't have the right to tell her no either.
The fact that they didn't have the same mother didn't change anything. Their father may have been an asshole, but they were all Shelbys, united, hard-working, persevering, and here for each other.
They didn't often ask her things that would put her in danger. They were terribly protective of their little sisters, especially Arthur, but there were times when a feminine touch became essential to finalizing a deal or gaining someone's trust.
Almost no one knew that Y/N was a Shelby. Her mother had died when she was young and Polly had welcomed her into this strange world as soon as she learned that her idiot brother was her father. However, as soon as she was able to earn her own money, Y/N found a small place to live on her own, although she remained close to her family.
For Tommy, that made her perfect for a mission he'd had in mind for some time.
“I want you to become Alfie Solomons’ secretary.”
"Who ?" Y/N had asked, trying not to wince.
"It doesn't matter. He doesn't trust easily, but he's been having trouble managing his business for some time, too many unforeseen events, too many incompetent people. You are competent. Earn his trust, become indispensable, listen to his conversations, read his letters, and brings us all important information."
Y/N didn't know what important information was, even less so since she still didn't know who this Alfie Solomons was when she showed up at his office. Her brothers had decided that it was best for her not to know too much, not because she might be afraid, but because the man was very good at seeing through people. It wasn't very reassuring.
However, at first glance, Mr. Solomons did not seem that terrible. He showed a big smile when he saw Y/N, opening his arms and inviting her to come and sit down, offering her tea during their interview and listening attentively to everything she said. Despite his broken back, he insisted on walking her to the door, lowering her hand and declaring that he was delighted to have found his new secretary.
Two things quickly became quite clear after several weeks working with Alfie Solomons : he wasn't running a bakery at all, and he was perfectly charming.
Well, it happened that he shouted at certain employees, even hit them, and probably worse when there were no witnesses, but with Y/N, he was undoubtedly the most sweet and polite man. the sweetest in the world.
Even when she made mistakes, which didn't happen often, he would shrug his shoulders and say it was her fault, because he was asking a lot of her, before offering her a cup of tea and some biscuits.
Sometimes she would find flowers on her desk when she arrived in the morning.
“Slept well, love ?”
"Very well, Mr. Solomons, thank you. And you ?"
"Call me Alfie, love. And I haven't slept yet."
"Are you saying that so I don't wake you if I find you asleep again before a meeting, Mr. Solomons ?"
“I know you will do it no matter what, you cruel woman.”
When they didn't have too much work, they talked. Alfie Solomons had an opinion on everything, stories to tell, anecdotes or more or less strange questions on philosophical subjects as well as on perfectly futile or strange things. He often made her laugh, which seemed to please him.
On the contrary, he did not like it when another employee, client or business partner allowed themselves to be rude to his favorite secretary. It wasn't often, word had quickly spread about what Mr. Solomons did to those who misbehaved with Y/N.
For some, they were sleeping together. It didn't help that he often drove her home, even if it was only when it was very late, raining, or very cold.
Even though she promised them it wasn't true, her brothers were a little worried. They didn't like seeing Alfie hovering around their little sister like that, even if she brought them some interesting information thanks to her position.
It wasn't normal that she managed to have so much information, which worried them even more because Alfie Solomons really wasn't the type of man to take such a risk, so either he had discovered who she was and he was either giving Y/N wrong informationsn or he liked her so much he let her have everything.
The Shelby brothers didn't know which would be the worst. With all the information turning out to be true, they didn't know what to make of it.
Y/N didn't ask herself these kinds of questions, too busy with her work as a secretary, trying to keep her distance from her employer who was much too charming to be honest, and who was obviously not very appreciated by her family .
He sometimes asked her to marry him, but only as a joke, when she brought him a meal or when she forced him to put a pillow behind his back so that he wouldn't suffer the next day, or when She took care of his business perfectly.
Everything stopped after Arthur's beating.
The next day, Tommy called his sister to order her to leave. He was kind enough to apologize when he told her that she would probably have to move, but that she could always stay to Watery Lane with them while she found something, to make sure that Alfie wouldn't find her. Although he didn't see why he would look for her.
Solomons was disappointed to learn that his beloved secretary had to leave town for family reasons, but he seemed to understand, kissing her one last time on the hand and wishing her a good life.
“I guess it’s still a no for marriage ?”
"Mr. Solomons…"
"I know, I know, I'm just an old idiot. Take care, love. Shalom to your brothers and sisters."
Several months passed before this little sentence made sense to Y/N.
It hadn't shocked her, because the man talked too much for her to take in everything he said, it was only polite that he wished the best for his family, and she had been too busy not to show that their separation affected her.
Not seeming to see that she had become attached to the wandering Jew, Tommy did not warn her when it was decided to do business with him, against the Italians. He hadn't warned Arthur either, who wasn't happy to see Alfie again.
The meeting went well, from what Y/N understood. Alfie presented his "apologies" to Arthur, before agreeing to help him sort out their affairs with the Italians. He didn't ask for too much money, which surprised the brothers a little. He didn't hold them by the balls, it was the opportunity.
But no, he decided to be a gentleman, helping them in honor of old times. As he left, he only asked Tommy to greet his charming sister for him, winking.
The deal then no longer really mattered, because the Shelbys discovered something much more important. Solomons had discovered who he had hired as his secretary. He knew Y/N was one of them.
"… You're not serious. Thomas, you said it would be temporary."
"I know… I know ! Little sis, you have to understand that he is very dangerous. He is going to get revenge, he is going to hurt you and there is no way I am letting that happen."
“He won’t do anything to me.”
"It's business. He'll do it like he did to Arthur. You need to understand that you're not safe out there. Stay with us, stay home."
Y/N's worst nightmare was happening. Locked up with her family, without hope of independence or freedom. She should never have agreed to help Tom.
Unfortunately he seemed to be right, because she saw Ollie several times through the window, and other employees of the Bakery hanging around in the street. It was too risky to go out.
Then the flowers arrived. Deliveries of packages containing perfumes, books, tea. There was no need for him to sign them, but Alfie Solomons seemed to insist that the Shelbys understand that he knew full well where to find their sister.
Arthur wanted to kill him. John thought he needed to speak with this madman before it was too late. Tommy considered that just not bringing up the subject would make him calm down, too busy with other problems.
When the flu came, staying indoors protected no one. Ada brought the illness home and soon the most fragile members of the family were bedridden with fever.
A doctor came to examine them, to the surprise of the older brothers, who did not have enough money this month to pay for his services. He only said that they didn't need to worry about it, taking care of Finn, Ada, then Y/N, before going out without asking for a penny, leaving them with remedies and instructions.
The others' health improved quickly, but Y/N remained sick, shaking and sweating, sleeping for several hours before being awakened by nightmares, tired as if she hadn't slept for days.
One night, a hand on her damp forehead brought her out of her torpor. The hand remained still, only the thumb caressing her skin.
"You have to sleep, love. I brought tea, for your throat."
“Al… Alfie ?”
"Yes, love. Everything is fine, rest."
"It was you… who sent the doctor…"
"I wasn't going to let my favorite secretary die from a slight fever. Why isn't anyone at your bedside ? I don't like it, I'm going to have a word with your brothers."
Arthur and Tommy would undoubtedly have taken this as a threat, Solomons managing to enter their home and sneak up to their little sister's room without being seen, then being able to do her all the harm he wanted.
Y/N knew he wasn’t going to hurt her. It had been obvious for several weeks that he didn't intend to, with all these ridiculous gifts and letters, where he kept asking her if he wanted to marry her. He was having fun, nothing more. He continued to tease her, while scaring the Shelbys.
"It's not very nice." Y/N whispered, trying to keep her eyes open.
“It’s too easy to annoy them, it’s not my fault.”
“I wasn’t talking about that.”
"Ah. You see, love, I don't know what to do about it anymore. I did everything to make you see that I was serious, I who never seem serious. I knew it would be difficult at first, because you thought I didn't know who you were. I knew before I hired you. Then you left, I thought I was going to die, but I told myself that now that you weren't working for me anymore , if I said that I knew, then it would be easier. What should I do ? Buy a horse ? A trailer ? There is a gypso rite that I don't know to ask for the hand of a woman ? I have to go and see Arthur and duel him ? I can do it, he doesn't scare me, love. I can go right now."
"No… Stay with me…" she begged him, holding out her hand, coughing again.
Unable to not get agitated when he was speaking, Alfie Solomons had stood up to show that he would go to her brother's room to beat his face, but he immediately sat down next to Y/N, I took her hand which he kissed with all the tenderness he was capable of.
“Stay with me…” she repeated miserably.
"Yes, love, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere, I'm here."
And he was still there when she opened her eyes the next morning, holding her hand and smiling as her fever seemed to be going down. The moment was slightly ruined by Finn, who wanted to see if she was better and who screamed when he saw Solomons. Alfie yelled louder, even if it was to order the bellowing to stop because Y/N needed to rest.
This of course alerted the entire Shelby family, who ran into the room.
At first, Alfie refused to leave. He promised he would stay, so he would stay.
Then, seeing Y/N's pleading look who didn't want anyone to get hurt, he sighed as he agreed to follow the brothers into the kitchen, for a discussion, but only if he was allowed to come back to see her to say goodbye to her afterwards.
"If I didn't kill you first…"
"Oh, Arhur. Shalom ! Glad to see you haven't lost your humor !"
Ada stayed with her sister, helping her to drink, rubbing water on her forehead, and not being able to stop herself from asking her what had happened. Y/N reassuring her, explaining that Alfie had sent the doctor, that he wasn't dangerous, not at all.
Unlike the others, Ada did not take care of their brothers' less than legal affairs. She understood that this Solomons was not a good person, but neither of them were, and he seemed very attached to Y/N.
"And you ? What do you think of him ?"
"He's a fool."
"I see. You like him. Do you think Tommy would be alright with you dating ?"
"I'm afraid Alfie doesn't care about Thomas' approval." Y/N sighed, trying to hear if any screams were coming from downstairs. "He is very stubborn."
"I thought I noticed, with all these gifts. If he asks you to marry me, I want to be a bridesmaid."
“He’s asked me before, several times.”
“Damn, Y/N, Arthur is going to have a heart attack.”
Fortunately, the eldest did not have a heart attack, but he initially refused to believe Solomons' sincere feelings. The others were skeptical too. As she predicted, it didn't matter to Alfie, who only cared about her opinion.
He also pointed out that only Y/N had the right to order him to leave, by telling him that she never wanted to see him again. One word from her, and he wouldn't bother them anymore. But a yes, and he would be the happiest man in the world.
“With a beautiful family of fucking gypsos, but the happiest all the same.”
“She will never say yes to you !” John replied.
"Fucking hell, still speaking for her. Let's ask her. But not now, she still needs to recover. Leave her alone."
The brothers did not obey, waiting until the wandering Jew had kissed Y/N's hand and finally left to question her in turn, despite Ada's protests.
Only Tommy remained near the bedroom door, watching his sister in her bed. When their eyes met, he seemed to ask her a silent question, and she felt tears forming, unable to hide her answer.
He nodded, before whistling to tell everyone to get out. He said nothing, only smiling tenderly as he closed the door, leaving her alone with his blessing.
When Alfie Solomons would be back, with a white horse, new flowers and his proposal, she could say yes to him if she wanted, without fear of war. Because even though business was important, family was more important, and if Y/N was happy with him, then no one could say anything against that.
Her future husband only had to remember that if he hurt one of them, her the first, he would pay for it.
233 notes · View notes
impactedfates · 6 months
Note
Hello there!! Can I request some headcanons / mini-scenarios for: Dan Heng, March, Welt, Himeko, Yanqing and Jing Yuan; with a normally soft-spoken Reader who has a wide vocal range (from contralto to hitting those high notes) and occasionally does song covers? Doesn't matter the genre, so long as Reader likes it.
So they might hear Reader singing something like a lullaby or a traditional Xianzhou song one day, to something that's still soft and sweet like a mainstream pop song on another day; to belting out something like "Kakusei" or "NEXUS" from the Promare OST. :D
★ A/N: I understood the request, I just hope I wrote it in a way you wanted! People with such a large vocal range are so talented istg, they gotta teach me. (I say as if I have ANY confidence to sing anyways)
☆ Genre/Trope: Platonic
★ Format: Bullet Pointed Head Cannons (And small scenario at the end :>)
☆ Warnings: None
★ Extra: Reader is a Nameless // Readers age is undisclosed so imagine them at whatever age you wish // Reader can play instruments! // Characters might be OOC I feel // Proof Read but I did it when it was 4am lmao
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When you sing more soft songs, Dan Heng tends to enjoy listening. It helps him feel more relax and sometimes rids his mind of nightmares.
He's more used to hearing that kind of voice from you. So when one day, he walks in on you singing a song that's the exact opposite of how you usually sing, he's a bit surprised.
He never doubted you could have a big vocal range, however hearing you sing a song that's different to how he normally hears you sing is what surprised him.
He still enjoys listening, but more so when you sing in a softer voice, don't get him wrong. He still enjoys your singing voice and will support you. But he isn't one for a more loud song.
"[Name]...if you're going to sing more...on the loud side, could I request you do it else where?" Dan Heng sighs softly, being awoken up once again due to you. Despite his words hinting at annoyance, his facial expression was soft and kind. A soft sorry came from your voice as you quickly turned off the music you were using, switching to a more softer song. An old Xianzhou lullaby. "Here, I'll make it up to you. Sit on the couch and I'll sing a softer song" You smiled, Dan Heng chuckled as he obliged. He can't deny that your more softer voice doesn't help him fall asleep. He silently hums along to your voice, and in a sleepy voice he speaks to you before drifting to bed. "If you enjoy music like that so much, we can pay a visit to Serval okay?"
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March 7th LOVES your singing voice. She would sing along to whatever song you were singing. She praises you every time she hears you and likely took photos of you singing.
She so supports you if you ever make a YouTube (StarTube?) account and posted covers, literally your number 1 fan.
When you post a cover of a song, she's always the first one to like, comment and listen!
When you post a cover of a song that's VERY different. (Let's say, Usseewa) and you hit ALL those high notes and, everything omg. She was surprised but immediately hyped you up.
She doesn't mind if you sing songs like that at all, your singing is amazing. Like I said, number 1 fan...she doesn't hid it either.
"I love you [Name]!" "Uh, the one with the blue camera and pink hair?" "OH. MY GOD. [NAME] YOU NOTICED ME, YOU NOTICED ME. I.LOVE.YOU" Serval laughed out loud seeing Marchs outburst, as if you two don't live with each other. You could only look away with a small smile, seeing March jump up and down and shaking whoever was beside her. Much to Welts "delight"
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Welts very impressed with your vocal range. But he's also worried, he knows that if you were able too have a large vocal range, you likely know how to manage it.
Still, anytime he hears you singing songs like NEXUS or Kakusei he can't help but slide over a bottle of water for your throat.
If you ever join a concert with Serval then he IS buying tickets, though not everyone may go (Dan Heng) he and the rest of the Express will.
He also tends to buy any merch you may come out with if there is any. (Mainly for March but he does keep one or two for himself to support you)
He doesn't really have a preference when it comes too what songs you sing, just as long as your happy and it isn't really disturbing anyone.
If you ever start a StarTube channel, he might animate a few of your covers! Under a pen name though, he's not embarrassed, but I think he'd like it if you thought it was a different fan and not just him who's already liked your singing from the start. (If that makes sense)
"WELT! Weltweltwelt" You ran up to him, quickly showing him an animation someone did of one of your new songs. "ArahatosNumber1Fan animated one of my covers again" You said excitedly, bringing the phone screen back to your view as you scrolled through the comments. Many complimenting the animation but many also asking who sang the cover to which they were directed to your account. "This the guy that you said was helping boost your channel subs?" You nod happily, tapping your chin you thought for a bit. "Do you think they'd still animate my covers even if I sing a different genre? I want to go with something softer this time instead of a louder peice" "I'm sure they'll animate any song you wish to sing" He chuckles. And sure enough, a week after you posted a cover of Lost Umbrella, ArahatosNumber1Fan posted an animation to go along with it.
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Himeko compliments you a lot for your vocal range. In fact, she got you a karaoke machine for your birthday! Of course, though. She doesn't let you use it during night time. She doesn't want to wake up because you decided to start singing Churira Churira Dadada at 3 in the morning.
I do think she prefers you to sing outside the train. While she does enjoying your singing and she has no problem if you were to sing in the train. However she also understands it may disturb many people so she does ask for you to sing in an area where you aren't disturbing anyone.
I feel like she also asks you to teach her how to sing or have a wider vocal range. She enjoys singing herself and would love to join in when you're out singing to keep you company!
Perhaps you two can make money by singing on the streets :> (Only if you're okay with it though!)
You strummed you guitar as the two of you reached the last note, Himeko took a small bow and looked up at the audience that had gathered around. All of them clapping and complimenting your voice. She laughed softly and gently packed up your things so the two of you could get going, checking to see if you were uncomfortable with the attention before she directs you back to the train. As you two entered, Himeko was quick to sit and count the amount of credits that were left in your guitar case, looking up to you she said with a smile. "A success, well done. They loved you" "It wasn't just me singing..." "Perhaps but...I'd say they have their favourites"
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When Yanqing overhears you singing Xianzhou lullabys, he's quick to shower you with compliments. Your voice is so soothing! He could listen it for so long and it's effective too. You had to usher him out as he could wake the kids you just put to bed.
When he hears you singing a song like (man I'm running out of songs I know/hj) Noels Lament. He's impressed, how can you sing a song so softly and quietly and then sing something like this which needs a stronger voice??
He might skip a few of his training to find you and see what song you're singing, he makes it a guessing game! Will you be singing something so sweet and kind? Or something that might will make head turn??
"...Yanqing?" "Ha! I guessed right this time" "...Guessed...right?" Ah, you weren't meant to know the guessing game he had in his own head, quickly, he shuffled away. Scratching the back of his head. "Of where you were!" "I always walk in this area" "...I meant...what outfit you'd be wearing?" "I usually wear similar clothes?" ...Yeah, he's running off quickly, hopefully Jing Yuan won't scold him for skipping his training again right? Surely the general can understand he just has to see if his guess was right or not.
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Surprisingly (or not surprisingly) Jing Yuan enjoys when you sing your heart out with songs like Candy Store or Mount Rageous. That's the type of sing he first heard you sing when he tried to find Yanqing when he skipped yet another training sessions.
Usually he would just sleep till Yanqing returned or just go on with his day if he never did. In either case, now he joins Yanqing to see what song you're singing before returning back to train.
When he hears you singing a less upbeat song like Sweet Dreams. He's slightly surprised but listens intently, it's different to what he often hears you sing but he enjoys it none the less, he sees your happy so he's fine.
He might even request to hear certain songs just to see how well you voice range can handle it. From the loudest song that could break glass, to a soothing song that can put even the mara struck to bed. And if you successfully sing them all, he congratulates you.
Overall, he's impressed as well as many others, likely talks to you and how well you sing to his friends.
You panted a bit as you finished a particularly long high note, Jing Yuan chuckles and slides over a cup of water which you accept quickly. Taking a drink to sooth your throat. "You voice really can do wonders, I'm more then impressed" He speaks, you nodded in response as he then offers a small treat for agreeing to sing a song for him. A song that made you go from high to low, soft to loud and all in all, tested how wide your voice range can be in a singular song. "I must apologies, I just wished to see how far your voice can go. I should've considered how tired your throat must be from singing that particular song" "No worries, it was fun to read and practice that song. I'm a bit surprised you know it though" "Oh? Are you now?" "Yeah...I mean...the song was released like a month ago and you're kinda a grandp-" "Alright I get it" He chuckled lightly, gently flicking your forehead.
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I'm so smart writing Yanqings and JY sleep deprived right?/j Yeah uh they might be OOC, hopefully not thoughejfpgt.
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bellaofthevalley · 7 months
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Savanaclaw: in Ailment
just a cutesy probably ooc leona sickfic text in italics and bold is text messages. text only in italics is thoughts.
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Won't be able to make it to our breakfast date. Sorry Leona </3 will make it up to u promise! <333 
Leona stares at the text with furrowed brows, his tail twisting behind him. Every little move it does speaks volumes about his confusion and worry, but no anger; he knows his darling isn't the type to cancel their dates randomly for no reason, especially one he knows you'd been really looking forward to. It had taken a while of him nagging you for you to admit you really, really wanted to try a particularly expensive but beautiful and highly-praised spot. 
Expensive for you, but quite cheap for Leona. Leona, who hadn't wasted much time before he'd reserved a spot. So for you to now text him this…. It is concerning. 
And then he gets another text before he can ask you why. 
Sick :( don't wanna make u sick 2 :(((
Leona huffs, raising an eyebrow. Idiot. His favourite idiot, but still an idiot. If you thought he'd just simply let you be, you were sorely mistaken. 
I'll swing by the doctors. Do you need any specific medicine? 
(You'd laughed once, about how his formal training as a Prince shines through his texts. He always, according to you, used right spellings and punctuations.) 
Noooooo!!!! stay home nd nap i can brave thru this!!!! 
No, you really can't and shouldn't. Leona snorts at his own thoughts, finally pocketing his phone without answering. He's in his room already, so all he has to do is pick up a bag that contains a gift for you and then, just like he'd said he'd do, swing by the doctors to pick up some common cold and fever medicine, and then he leaves the palace. 
He doesn't go to your home right away, though. He stops by a shop, picks out several ingredients all fresh and new for a chicken broth, and then he finally goes to your house; it's in a quiet neighbourhood, though your place is quite visible simply because you like having a colourful garden and vines with blooming flowers that crawl up your walls. Some of them were luminescent, so they glowed soothing shades in the night, perfect for sleeping under in your back garden. 
But now isn't the time to think about that.
Leona doesn't need to knock; he has a copy of your house key, and uses that to enter your home. In the quietude and the closed drapes that leave the house dim, the only thing he can make out right away is your soothing scent, stifled by your sickness. 
And then he hears your coughs, broken only by your sneeze, and he knows he has to act fast. 
Chicken broth doesn't take much time to cook, so he gets working on that while simultaneously cleaning around your house… which is already clean, so he knows you'd either already done it and made yourself feel worse, or was so sick you couldn't leave your bed in the first place. 
Leona sets the broth to simmer, picks up his gift bag, and climbs up the stairs to your room. “Darling? It's me, Leona.” he calls, hearing your rustling and moving in your bed before he reaches your room and sees you. 
“Leona?” voice scratchy, your head pops up from the blanket you'd cocooned yourself in. Your hair was flying up in every way, and your eyes were droopy, barely awake. But you're aware enough to pout frown. “Didn't… didn't I say not to come here?” 
“No.” Leona easily replies, putting his hand on your forehead. Too hot, and yet you were still shivering…. Which wasn't that much of a surprise when he sees you're only wearing a tank top and some shorts. In winter. But chiding your right now would just make you feel worse. 
“Leonaaa…” You whine quietly, closing your eyes. Shivers go down your body, and you try to bury yourself more in the blanket. “So cold, so tired, so sick…” 
“I know, doll,” he sighs, taking the blanket off you even when you whine again. “Come on, let's change you into something warmer and take you out of this room. The air is stale here.” 
And here is where he pulls his gift out; a lion onesie, thick and fluffy and worlds warmer than your current clothes, and faintly smelling like him. Leona helps you change into it, feeling you lean against him. 
“Warm,” Your whisper is soft, wiggling your toes in the onesie while Leona fixes your bedhead so tangled hair doesn't irritate you. “And soft. Comfy.” 
“Good.” he replies, finished and setting the brush down. Winding his arms under your back and thighs, Leona carries you downstairs to the living room, to the couch. “When was the last time you ate?”
“Dunno… not hungry.” You sigh when he places you down, curling up immediately in his arms before he can leave to bring you the soup. “So… tired. Should've dressed warmer when I went out a few days ago.” 
Leona wraps his arms around you, pulling you to rest on top of him. The house is warm now, the smell of chicken broth curling in the air and your body safe and sound in his embrace, shivers subsiding and your eyes blinking slower and slower. 
“Sleep, doll.” he whispers against you, kissing her temple. His lips linger on your skin, hands massaging down your back. His magic wraps a blanket around you, freshly tumbled and dried, and he feels you melt even more against him. 
 “I'll take care of you, I promise. Always.” 
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Masterpost
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