#duke that one out for yourselves
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Tim’s parents demand a meeting with Bruce and their son himself to discuss the future of their company and Tim’s place in it. Everyone knows they probably want to get in on Bruce’s wealth and business so they might be able to go from millionaires to billionaires like Bruce.
To everyone’s surprise, Tim accepts and says he’ll do it as long as Bruce will stay with him the entire time.
Obviously Dick refuses not to and Damian insist as the ‘true heir’, which makes Jason want to as well just cause he’s not being left out. Duke promises to stay out of it and keep the girls busy so Tim doesn’t feel cornered or smothered in worry.
So, Bruce and his three sons sit on the meeting with Bruce doing most do the talking and Tim sitting on a chair with his brothers all keeping eyes on him.
Jack and Janet try to give pleasantries to their son but he just stared at them, a blank look that even Bruce can’t decipher if only because he’s never seen it before.
Jack does most of the talking, explaining that Tim still has a set aside amount of many and place in the company but that it’s only there because he’s kept the family name. They explain that they would be happy for Tim to take the Wayne name as long as their son gives up his legal place in the company and hands over his personal funds they gifted him willingly.
They subtly explain that they want him to continue to work with the as he works with WE extremely well, and that they could possibly become partners.
Tim would still be the co-CEO of WE as well as COF for Drake Industries but he must… ‘donate’ money to them regularly as a show of good partner ship.
Bruce is furious that they just want money and haven’t acknowledged their son or the fact that he just turned eighteen, but he remains calm and after almost twenty minutes of talking Dick cuts them all off.
“Perhaps-we could ask Tim himself what he thinks of this offer.”
The growing tension both settles and raises as everyone turns to Tim who is sitting like a statue.
He looks like he could be dissociating but there’s a distinct presence in his eyes like he doesn’t want to miss a single word or second.
Jack sits back and gives Tim a stern look, “Well, son? What do you say?”
Tim speaks in the same voice Bruce has heard him talk to clients he doesn’t like, “I’ll accept, I’ll even give my earnings from the company.” Just as Jack and Janet begin to look smug and his family members look shocked he adds, “on one condition.”
Janet looks at him like he’s the most vile creature ever and covers it with a forced smile as Alfred pours more tea for her as a means to appease the clearly nasty woman.
Everyone waits for Tim to state his condition but none of them are ready for when he looks his parents each in the eye and says in the calmest, most level voice the most shocking sentence nace they have ever heard from both Tim and Red Robin:
“I want you to kill yourselves.”
.
..
…
No one speaks.
Jason and Dick look genuinely afraid, Damian looks taken aback though not nearly as shocked as Bruce is with his jaw hanging low.
Alfred for the first time in his life serving the Waynes spills tea and looks at Tim in a way that shows he is genuinely aghast.
Janet and Jack are frozen looking at their son like he’s a different person, which is funny as that implies they knew he was before.
Tim doesn’t smile or gloat, he does nothing to suggest his words were one big joke or last ‘fuck you’ to them.
He sits still and patient, waiting for an answer.
Janet opens her mouth several times to speak but never gets any words out though Jack manages to get over his shock and fury crosses his face. He opens his mouth, most likely to yell or berate his son but Tim beats him to it.
“It’s your choice. I’ve said all I want, so kill yourself or leave.”
Tim picks up his own tea and watches as Jack and Janet storm out of Wayne Manner.
Silence prevails for a while with none of the family talking until Damian breaks the silence, “Holy shit.”
#tim drake#batfam#bat family#dc comics#tim drake is red robin#batfamily#tim drake is a menace#dc universe#dc#damian wayne#dick grayson#jason todd#bruce wayne#alfred pennyworth#janet and jack drake#tim drake centric
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love tropes with the bat family
characters: bruce wayne, richard "dick" grayson, barbara gordon, jason todd, timothy "tim" drake, stephanie brown, cassandra cain, duke thomas, and damian wayne
bruce wayne
arranged marriage
• the marriage was arranged by his parents and your parents to merge the two most powerful families in gotham, providing both financial stability and social influence. bruce only went along with it because he wanted to honor his parents’ last wishes.
• initially, there's a distance between the two of you. he’s so consumed by his quest for justice and his role as batman, that he doesn’t really have the time to truly get to know you. meanwhile, you’re just trying to understand your role in his life.
• publicly, the two of maintain the appearance of the perfect, high-society couple, attending galas and charity events. behind closed doors, the two of you sleep in separate beds and barely talk to one another.
• alfred becomes a mentor and confidant to the both of you, helping your navigate your new life together and offering uncle iroh level advice.
• it isn’t until you get hurt, that he begins to realize the depth of his feelings for you.
• DEFINITELY says the, "who did this to you?" line.
• this marriage brings a new dynamic to his life. you have your own skills and resources and you become an integral part of his crime-fighting efforts.
• your presence in his life helps him heal emotionally, offering him a sense of family and home. this support strengthens him, making him a more balanced and effective hero.
• you both work towards a shared vision for gotham, combining your immense resources and influence to create lasting change, honoring the legacies of both your families. <33
richard "dick" grayson
you fell first, he fell harder
• charming and attractive, it’s hard to not fall in love with dick grayson. he’ll flirt and send compliments someone’s way, effectively tampering with their feelings. it’s no surprise when you find yourself having romantic feelings for him.
• despite your best efforts to keep your feelings hidden, dick starts noticing the little things—how you laugh at his jokes a bit too eagerly, how your eyes linger on him a bit longer, and how you're always there to lend a hand.
• as you spend more time together, you can't help but be more obvious about your feelings. you find excuses to be near him, offer to help with his missions, and bring him coffee during late-night patrols.
• one day, during a particularly dangerous mission, you do something reckless to save him. that’s the final push he needs to confront and confess his feelings for you.
• ANGRY LOVE CONFESSIONS>>>
• he never noticed you. but now that he had, he couldn't un-notice you.
• once you find your way into his heart, it’s hard for him to let you go. more and more, he starts finding himself constantly wishing for your presence.
• he constantly tells you how much you mean to him and how he can't imagine his life without you.
• this man met you, fell in love with you, and has been falling ever since. <33
barbara gordon
the korrasami trope (i didn’t know what else to call it)
• both of you had feelings for dick, but he ultimately chose you. after he made his decision, she began to act extremely cold towards you.
• despite this, you constantly went out of your way to ensure that she didn’t feel left out. you included her in activities and made an effort to show her that your relationship with dick didn’t have to affect your friendship with her.
• she becomes jealous when she sees you and dick together and for the longest time, she thought she was jealous of you because you were him. she soon realizes that she was actually jealous of HIM because he was with you.
• during the times when dick was busy with his duties as nightwing, the two of you would often find yourselves alone together. these moments of forced proximity brought you closer, and that’s when she started to develop feelings for you.
• you start to notice subtle changes in her behavior around you. she becomes more attentive, goes out of her way to spend time with you, and shows a genuine interest in your well-being.
• she struggles with her feelings for you, torn between her loyalty to dick because of their friendship and her growing love for you.
• girlie is down HORRENDOUSLY for you. <33
jason todd
enemies to lovers
• you hate jason, he hates you. just the thought of him irritates your whole being, shakes your bones in anger, his name leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.
•this man will NEVER stop bothering you, he likes to see you stressed out and angry, but he lowkey thinks it’s cute that’s why he likes to piss you off.
• you intrigue him, when he started to bother you he was legit hating on you but as time flew by, he somehow liked your attention on him.
• being an annoying piece of shit= your attention.
• despite your differences and the fact that you and jason mixed like oil and water, on in the field, you guys grudgingly tolerated each other, working together to take out your enemies.
• the tension between the two of you is so thick that during mission briefs, bruce has to seat you guys across the room from each other, unless he wants to hear mumbled insults back and forth and glaring between you guys.
• the rest of the bat family teases the two of you relentlessly because they’re convinced that you guys are the perfect match for one another (they’re absolutely right).
• when he finally realizes that he has feelings for you, he tries to convince himself that he doesn’t in fact like you romantically but that he was just admiring your skills in the field.
• he actually finds himself looking out for you on missions, even though he won’t be upfront about it.
• he becomes somewhat awkward to be around, and the rest of the bat family immediately capitalize off this to bully him with it. but regardless, he finds himself drifting towards you a bit more, and picking up on some of your habits. as much as he hates to admit it, he wants to know more about you. <33
timothy "tim" drake
friends to lovers
• tim heavily values trust and loyalty. as friends, you’ve always been someone he can rely on, whether it's sharing secrets or working through problems together.
• despite being one of his best friends, he isn't overly expressive with his emotions. he shows his affection through small, thoughtful gestures – bringing you coffee, remembering your favorite snacks, or staying up late to help you with something.
• he gradually comes to the realization that he has feelings for you. once it hits him, he begins to avoid you, trying to process everything.
• however, he starts to get like physically sick because he misses you so much. plus, you called him to ask if they'd done anything wrong and the pain in your voice was too much for him to bear.
• it was impossible to ignore the change in his behaviour. for one, he couldn't speak to you in person without his face turning blindingly red. plus, not only does he struggle to look you in the eye, but he is also CONSTANTLY stuttering around you.
• when you decide to confront him about it, he kind of just blurts out that he’s in love to you. much to his genuine surprise (but literally no one else's), you told him that they loved him too.
• sometimes, he feels like an idiot for not saying or doing something about it sooner. you frequently tease him for not having picked up on his own feelings sooner— but for once, he graciously accepts it. <33
stephanie brown
fake dating
• after your ex breaks up with you, steph devises a plan to get back at them and make them jealous.
• the two of you were already best friends so it couldn’t be that hard. right? RIGHT?
• you’re both aware that damian doesn’t buy your little arrangement one bit. he just doesn’t believe that the two of you are dating because you’re such good friends. (and they were roommates!!!)
• steph has this raging pride when it comes to damian, so she’s made it her personal mission to convince him that you and her are actually dating.
• it takes a while for you two to get into the hang of it, but once you do, it’s like a regular routine.
• steph would definitely fall for you first. she’d hide her feelings behind your little charade, until the fake dating stuff starts extending into the time you two share together when no one else is watching.
• she still gravitates towards you on the couch when everyone has left after dinner at your place, pressing kisses to your cheek when she leaves even though everyone else is already gone. there’s no need to continue acting like this but she does.
• the fake dating thing really starts hurting her because she thinks that you don’t really like her like that (you do) but its nice to pretend that you do in those moments, that it’s all real even though it's not.
• the people who know of your secret knows that steph has fallen for you (except for steph herself, and you because you refuse to believe it).
• like, come on, she’s your BEST FRIEND (side eye). the two of you are idiots in love.
• the moment she realizes she’s in love with you is on another one of those dates that you both know you don’t have to go on but still choose to have anyway (your ex is already clearly jealous).
• she’s been getting this small tugging feeling with you a lot over these past few months.
• now she finally realizes it’s because she’s in love with you. <33
cassandra cain
childhood best friends to lovers
• growing up, you became adept at reading her body language and expressions, creating a deep, intuitive understanding between the two of you.
• as kids, you both trained together, pushing each other to become stronger and better. these sessions were filled with friendly competition, laughter, and mutual support.
• you two had a secret hideout where you would escape to whenever the world felt overwhelming. it was a place filled with memories, laughter, and dreams for the future.
• whenever she had nightmares or struggled with her past, you were always there to comfort her. your presence became a source of peace and security for her.
• you both shared a love for a watching old martial arts films and cooking together. these activities brought you even closer over the years.
• once she was settled into her new life with the bat family, she reconnected with you over lunch and there was a moment where it all clicked. her heart nearly gave out the moment she saw you walk through the cafe door and smiled at her.
• she was in love with you. she had been for a while now. but back then, she had taken your presence for granted. it was something she just expected to be there. but now? now it was different. now it made sense.
• it was a very natural progression from a friendship to a relationship. she felt safe with you, and she never had to worry about being misunderstood. after everything that she’s been through, you were the person who stood by her through all of it. <33
duke thomas
brother’s best friend
• one thing about you and duke is that you can both take a secret to your grave.
• no one ever finds about him sneaking out of your brother’s room during their weekend sleepovers, to cuddle up to you on your bed.
• no one finds out about the secret dates you go on in the next town over, so that you don’t get caught.
• no one finds out about the secret phones you both use to contact each other.
• if you have to be in the same room together, he’s not even making any eye contact with you. it’s better to ignore each other in public.
• it would be WAY too obvious that the two of you are dating.
• when you guys are seven months into the relationship, cuddling on his bed, he asks "how long do you want to keep us a secret?"
• to which you reply, "not any longer than you want to."
• so yeah, you can both keep a secret– until you decide you want to share it to the world.
• your brother is disgusted, but happy for you. emphasis on disgusted tho. <33
damian wayne
academic rivals to lovers (except he’s been in love with you this whole time)
• damian has always admired you from afar. everything from your biting wit to your competitive spirit always made his heart flutter. falling in love with you was almost inevitable.
• sarcastic, creative remarks as comebacks to one another’s argument, teasing and joking words that lead to banters and bickering.
you: "are you reading?"
damian: "it’s amazing how you have eyes but never see the use of them."
• you don’t know if it’s due to your clashing beliefs and ideas that you two just can’t get along. or is it because he just refuses to do so? eitherway, he still irks you off in multiple ways. even when it’s just the sound of his breathing.
• the two of you compete against each other in terms of being the best among you, as such your relationship is treated as something simply born and made by a competition, an unnatural way to form a connection with another but that’s just how it is.
• the fact that you two work really well when it comes to projects and research is something that can’t be denied. even when there are countless arguments being shared because of differences in opinion, you two still end up getting the work done flawlessly.
• despite everything, there was never a time that you two have touched on a sensitive subject while arguing or have you two have said anything personal and mean that it crossed the line. it’s just some useless and close-to-nothing banters that always occur— becoming a part of your daily routine.
• and of course, the two of you don’t lose your sense of academic "rivalry" when you two start dating. <33
#dc#dc comics#dc characters#dc fandom#dc fanfiction#dc universe#dcu#bat family#batfam#batfam x reader#bruce wayne#batman#richard grayson#dick grayson#nightwing#barbara gordon#oracle#jason todd#red hood#timothy drake#tim drake#red robin#stephanie brown#batgirl ii#cassandra cain#batgirl iii#duke thomas#the signal#damian wayne#robin iv
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lose myself. tags : suggestive, smut?, fem!reader, wolf!wriothesley, rut, mentions of suppressants wc : 1,7k synopsis : when his agony becomes too unbearable, neither you nor him are able to control yourselves masterlist
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The air is thick in the Fortress. Everyone has already been warned to refrain from approaching the corridor in which the Duke’s chamber was situated, let alone seek the warden himself out. Of course, no one in their right mind would even dare to do so, as everyone who resided within the fortress was well aware of this very specific yearly occurrence.
Yet, as your careful steps echoed through the vacant hallway, it was obvious that your mind was far from its right place. The cutlery and porcelain clinked on the tray in your hands, yet the sound was akin to a whisper compared to the low grunts and painful moans that you could already hear from afar. The rattling of chains and cuffs got louder the closer you stepped to the thick steel doors.
Trying to swallow past the thick lump in your throat, you breathed. In and out, several times, before you exhaled deeply one last time and dared to push through the doors.
It was dark. You could barely see in front of you if it weren’t for the light from the hallway slipping inside through the crack of the door. And then you saw him.
A sliver of blue caught your eyes and made you briefly freeze in place, letting your sight adjust to the barely illuminated room.
He was sitting on his bed, one leg lazily stretched out on the mattress while the other was pulled up towards his chest. The next thing that caught your eye were obviously the chains that were attached to the wall behind him and clinked with each miniscule movement that he made. With his cuffed hands in his lap, Wriothesley slowly lifted his head, ragged breaths turning quiet for mere seconds.
It seemed as if he had only now taken notice of your presence, which was nothing less than concerning as this man’s senses were always heightened. Always the first to hear someone approaching, and the best at recognising people solely by their smell.
“So sweet.” He had once whispered, lips brushing against your ear as he approached you in the cantine. “Could smell you all the way to my office, my love.”
Once you deemed yourself ready, you eventually dared to round the bed and set the tray down on his nightstand. Too many pills, suppressants, littered its surface, and your breath hitched when you took note of the deep claw-like scratches along the wooden piece of furniture.
“What are you-” He cleared his throat. “What are you doing here? Who let you in?”
“I let myself in.” You explained matter-of-factly, trying to keep your voice steady and controlled, pretending that you weren’t perturbed by his current state. “This is my bedroom too in case you forgot.”
Usually, Wriothesley’s deep timber laugh would make your stomach flutter, your own lips curve into a sweet content smile. But something about it seemed darker this time, almost intimidating. It made your heartbeat climb up to your throat, and your palms sweat and twitch uncontrollably. “How many times do I have to tell you?”
His head limply fell back on the headboard, his naked throat and torso on full display and glistening with light traces of sweat in the dimly lit room. With deep laboured breaths, his chest heaved and you could see how flushed the scarred skin was. “I don’t want you near me when I’m like this.”
The next smartass remark was already on your tongue until you noticed the reddened flesh along his wrists. You wondered how hard he must have been pulling on his restraints for his skin to look so raw.
The bed creaked beneath your weight as you joined him, taking a seat on the edge of the mattress just so you could inspect his wounds better. With a feather light touch, you let the pads of your fingers trail over his wrists, your movements halting at each hitch and deep exhale of his breath.
He must be in so much pain, you thought. Nonetheless, as you were sitting here in front of him, he gave his all to keep his composure since he was well aware that you worried. “It’s bad, isn’t it?” You gulped and looked up at him, taking in his dishevelled state. From the sweaty strands of hair falling over his eyes, to the dark circles underneath his eyes, everything about him screamed agony.
“Y/n.” He gritted through his teeth, the sharp white canines glinting underneath the muzzle. “Go. Away.”
With an annoyed groan, he forcefully banged his head back against the headboard when you ignored his words and instead reached for the glass of water on the tray. With the cold glass in one hand, and the end of the straw in the other, you carefully guided it through an opening of the wired muzzle and nudged his lips with it. “Come on, you must be thirsty.”
Surprised but also relieved, you sighed when he complied and started sucking on the end of the straw. With two, three hard sucks, the glass was almost empty when he guzzled and had to pull back and cough a few times. “Slow down.” You instructed gently.
“Argh- Shit!” The handcuff jingled when he suddenly moaned, his forehead scrunching as he squeezed his eyes shut. Quickly, you set the glass aside yet all you could do was watch his body turn rigid, the muscles beneath his hot skin tensing as another gruesome wave of pain washed over him.
Almost instinctively, your hands reached out towards him to feel him, calm him, comfort him-
But in that same instant your world was turned upside down and it took you a while to realise that Wriothesley had pinned you beneath him. His restrained hands briefly brushed along the top of your head as his elbows dug into the mattress, the man shakily hovering above you and breathing so heavily you could feel each warm exhale on your face.
“Darling, you have to go.” He stressed again, though this time you could discern something different besides annoyance in his voice. Desperation. However, you weren’t sure whether he was desperate to save you from himself or to keep you here with him.
Your eyes stung when a broken whine escaped him as your hand grazed the base of his ears. You watched them twitch several times with each touch of yours before they flattened on his head, his breath hitching when his body tensed up again. “Wri’, let me help you. Please.”
Slowly, as if fearing to scare away a wild wounded animal, your palm trailed down his chest. “Don’t.” The hoarse whisper sent a rush through your body. His heart was beating so fast. Your hand trailed furtner down to his abs. “Darling.” He warned, while he was still as tense as ever, but his words did not match his body language as he didn’t shy away. Until your fingertips slid along the waistband of his pants, until you could feel the thick clothed bulge. Fuck, he was so hard-
“Oh, fucking hell- Stop.” He shouted, probably loud enough for whoever was lingering down the hall to hear him. Yet you didn’t so much as blink or twitch a finger in response.
Instead, he watched as your hands gently settled on each side of his face, and he knew what you were going to do. Wriothesley’s hands tightened into fists, the thick cold material of the cuffs digging further into his skin, though all he could feel right now was your body beneath his. How warm and soft you felt, how good you smelled, how beautiful you looked.
With a soft “click”, the muzzle loosened and fell from his face before you discarded it and haphazardly threw it somewhere to the side.
Bites and indents of his teeth could be clearly seen along his lower lip from all the times he must have bitten down on it. You tenderly cupped his cheek, and watched his nostrils flare as your thumb traced his marred mouth.
Wriothesley swore he could feel his dick twitch solely at the soft gasp you let out when he parted his lips, and his wet tongue tasted the digit. With a deep hum, he closed his eyes and started sucking on your thumb, the tip of his tongue ever so often tickling your skin until he pulled back with a wet pop.
“Wriothesley. Come on.” Your entire body was shaking at this point with anticipation. “Let me take care of you. I know you won’t hurt me.” At least not more than you could handle.
He huffed but could not control himself from leaning down to press his nose against your neck. How he was able to refrain himself from sinking his teeth into your neck and littering it with bites and hickeys, he didn’t know himself. “How do you know?”
“I just know.” It was a weak whisper, yet carried so much more weight with the way you were looking at him. Eyes so full of life, so full of tenderness, so full of love. Love for him.
Times and times he had wondered how you could do something like that. Love him, that is. But over and over, again and again, you had proved that some things simply did not need an explanation. Some things were given like the blue in the sky, or the constant change of seasons. Nobody questioned them. And so you had also made it clear to him to not ever allow himself to question your feelings for him.
When the bed creaked again, and Wriothesley witnessed you lift your hips up to slip your garments down, that oh-so-sweet scent invaded his senses, and you could see how the last ounce of his resolve crumbled. His ears twitched as he watched you unbutton his pants and tug the zipper down, so damn slowly. And before you had even a chance to wrap your hand around him, he was already bucking his hips into your palm, his chest and neck all flushed.
“Fuck, fuck. Fine, but I’ll keep the handcuffs on.” He rasped, but grinned wickedly when he heard you whimper once his teeth found their way in your soft flesh.
#wriothesley#wriothesley x reader#wriothesley x you#wriothesley genshin#wriothesley smut#wriothesley x y/n#genshin wriothesley#wriothesley drabble#genshin smut#genshin x reader#|୧wrio.week୭|
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‘Damian.’ You called over your shoulder, eyes firmly locked on the thing that currently held your undivided attention.
‘Yeah?’ You heard him call back from another room.
‘Why the fuck is there a cow in your kitchen?’ Damian’s brow was immediately raised upon hearing this. Cow? There’s no way Bat-Cow could’ve- Damian then closed his eyes and took a couple deep breaths before joining you in the kitchen, where he could clearly see that the white and brown Bovine cow was indeed in the kitchen, just like you had said.
Now the question of how the cow had gotten into the manor -undetected no less- was a mystery entirely because surly someone would’ve noticed a 610kg, white and brown cow mindlessly clopping down the corridor from rooms away. But none of that mattered anymore as it was irrelevant to the current situation you and Damian both found yourselves in.
‘This day was bound to happen sooner or later, y/n this is Bat-Cow, the family…well cow.’ Damian said as though it were nothing new but for you, everything was made even more confusing. ‘And why do you have a pet cow? is Wayne Enterprises expanding into the farming business is it?’ You asked and Damian felt a headache about to come on.
‘Tt. No, me and father saved Bat-Cow from going to a slaughterhouse and have kept them ever since.’ He explained as he then moved past you to gently pet the cow on the muzzle, smiling softly when Bat-Cow made a noise of content. ‘Besides, this is nothing in comparison to Goliath.’
You made a face at this. ‘I’m sorry but Goliath who?’ You asked and Damian only continued to amuse himself as he petted Bat-Cow. ‘Exactly.’ He couldn’t wait to see your reaction firsthand.
Bruce tends to overwork himself to death most of the time, much to yours and Alfred’s disappointment.
You understood why he does what he does but did he necessarily have to neglect his own health and well-being to do so?
Gotham was a piece of work that is always under continuous construction, never in the hopes of being made better, but instead to be pushed to the side and left to slowly corrode and rot. Gotham was an ever developing plot hole that was bound to become even more than an issue then first assumed.
Gotham wasn’t a place worth saving for it always found a way to relapse back into old harmful habits, much so to the point where it’s own civilians didn’t care whether the city would survive another day, with all the chaos and destruction that seemed to be happening on the daily.
In Gotham it was easy as piss for one to lose all sense of empathy, humility and humanity.
Expect for one man. Bruce Wayne aka Batman. A shining beacon of hope for the future of Gotham in your eyes, a person who looked at the piss, shit and grime that flooded the streets and thought; I could help make this a better place, not by much, but just enough so that the civilians could rest easy knowing they’re looked out for. No matter if I get beaten down again and again, I’ll always get back up because if I don’t, then who will if not me? And you loved him for that and loved even more when he first brought Dick home, followed shortly by Jason, Tim and Damian with the inclusions of Stephenie, Cassandra and Duke respectively.
So nowadays whenever you wanted Bruce to rest, you’d call upon the help of the kids -now grown ass adults with lives of their own- and Alfred to help you drag Bruce away from the screens of the bat-computer.
‘You could’ve just asked nicely.’ Bruce said as he walked with the likes of you, Tim, Dick, Jason and Barbra out of the bat cave after successfully getting Bruce to join you and the remainder of the family- whom were waiting for you all in the dinner room- for dinner that Alfred made.
‘We did, multiple times.’ Jason replied.
‘Well if you consider pulling back his chair from under him asking then yes, yes we did.’ Tim then said as Dick butted himself in the conversation. ‘I mean, it did work in our favour in getting the old man out of the bat cave.’ Murmurs of agreement followed as you leaned against Bruce, staring at your gaggle of kids with nostalgia, chuckling.
‘What’re you laughing to yourself about?’ Bruce asks and you shrug.
‘Nothing, it’s just nice to see that your soft spot for them hasn’t changed after all this time.’ You replied, holding onto his arm as he pressed a small kiss to your head and hums in agreement.
‘They happen to take after you, and you’re hard to say no to in any capacity.’ Bruce answers and you couldn’t help but squint your eyes at him. ‘Liar.’ You tell him with a grin. ‘You just don’t want to admit that I’m right.’
Bruce chuckles and kisses your cheek. ‘Okay, maybe you’re right about one thing.’ He concedes and allows you to drag him down the hallway, happy to be able to see his family all in one place.
Jason who might as well make his apartment a makeshift animal shelter because of how many strays he brings in from off of the street and dangerous living situations.
The pattern in this being that the strays he brings in were dogs that were heavily stereotyped as dangerous and aggressive, hurt, or missing a limb in some capacity. So there would be days where you’d come home to find Jason bathing an XL bully and a Pit bull, whom had some scarring left from when they were used as an illegal fighting dog, and you wouldn’t even bat an eye as you discarded your coat and went to help Jason in drying them off.
‘Where’d you find this one then Jason?’ You asked as you ran a hand through the Pit bulls short fur as it fell asleep on his lap while the XL bully fell asleep in yours.
‘In an alleyway where I was just about finishing up my patrol, tucked away in a darkened corner in a rotting cardboard box where I could heard them whimpering as clear as day.’ He responded. You could hear the anger in his voice towards the mistreatment of the poor dogs and reached over to hold his hand, stroking the back of it with your thumb.
‘You saved them Jason. You’ve given them much more than what their previous owner did tenfold.’ You reassured him, letting him know that the good he’s done will stick with the dogs for a long, long time. ‘Are you planning to give them to Damian to look after before finding them a good home?’ You then asked, having dawn to terms a long time ago that you nor Jason would have the time to properly take care of them yourselves, no matter how much you wanted to but you knew in this instance you couldn’t be selfish.
‘I would but Damian already has his hands full with the Doberman and Staffy we found last time,’ Jason sifted in his seat to look at you, ‘apparently Titus, Alfred and Ace have grown attached to them and refuse to the idea of them leaving. So Bruce is in the process of legally having the dogs be put under his care.’
You visibly perk up as you cuddled the XL bully to your chest. ‘Does that mean?’ Jason couldn’t help but laugh at your inherent cuteness as he pecked your lips. ‘Yes, we get to shelter them a little while longer chipmunk.’ He murmurs against your lips and you couldn’t help but steal a kiss from his lips out of happiness.
‘Have I told you how much I love you lately?’ You asked.
Jason hums. ‘You have but once more couldn’t hurt now would it?’ He teases.
Not even a week later and you and Jason decided to keep Riley the XL bully and Roy the Pit bull and you both love them dearly.
#dc imagine#dc x reader#dc x you#dc fanfic#dc x y/n#dc comics x reader#dc fic#dc fanfiction#damian wayne x y/n#damian wayne x you#damian wayne imagine#damian wayne x reader#damian wayne imagines#damian wayne fluff#bruce wayne x you#bruce wayne x reader#bruce wayne imagine#bruce wayne x y/n#jason todd imagine#jason todd fluff#jason todd x reader#jason todd imagines#jason todd fic#jason todd fanfic#jason todd fanfiction
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in the silence, there is an us
Pairing: Paul Atreides x Reader
Summary: Throughout their lives, Paul and reader have often found themselves in each other's bed. Childish games after bedtime, late-night studying sessions, nightmares, and a burning need to not be apart.
Part of Paul's point of view can be read here: "you are my favourite silence"
Words: 7.2k
Warnings: not proofread, possibly some inaccuracies about plot details (have not watched dune in ages, i'm just obsessed with paul), best friends to lover, tension, light angst, jessica being a bit rude, reader being an orphan and of a lower social rank, duke leto's death (rip), lots of cuddles and lingering touches, fluff, the whole deal
***
The grand halls of Castle Caladan always had an eerie stillness after sunset. The select servants walked quietly, the sound of waves crashing below barely made its way through the stone walls, and the Duke and Lady Jessica kept to their quarters. For Paul and you, though, this was the perfect time to sneak past the sternness of bedtime. The day never seems long enough for young children whose eyes are still filled with stars.
“Come on!” Paul’s whisper was loud, almost too loud for sneaking around, but you didn’t think long enough to care. The thrill of the game was enough to make both of your hearts race. You were barefoot, your steps making soft thuds against the cool floor as you tiptoed through the hall toward his room.
“If we get caught—” you whispered, but Paul cut you off with a grin.
“We won’t. Besides, who can stop us?”
You rolled your eyes at his cocky confidence. He wasn’t wrong, though. You had never been good at staying still, at obeying the invisible rules set up by adults. With no living relatives to share your name, Paul was more than just a best friend – he was all you had. Him and Duke Leto, whose unwavering sense of duty made him take you in at the Castle when your parents died on a mission he orchestrated. Responsibility above all else, all the qualities he aimed at instilling in his young son. And it couldn’t hurt Paul to have a friend his own age, could it?
You slipped into his room, both of you giggling like you’d just played the best prank on his sleeping parents. His bed was huge for a 7-year-old, more space than one boy could ever need regardless of his nobility. Tonight, it was your playground, stretching for miles.
Paul scrambled up first, then turned and offered you his hand. “Bet you I can jump higher than you,” he said, a challenge clear in his eyes.
You took his hand, pulling yourself up and laughing as the two of you bounced on the mattress, trying to outdo each other in height and bravery. You weren’t worried about waking anyone. Even if Duke Leto found you – and he often did – his stern reprimands were laced with amusement.
This was not the first time the two children had snuck into each other’s rooms after dark, the activity becoming more habit than occasion. Nights like this were your shared rebellion, a refusal to let the day end just because the sun had gone down, just because Jessica had tucked Paul into bed an hour earlier for bedtime.
Eventually, after you had worn yourselves out, you collapsed side by side on the bed, your breaths heavy from laughter. You stared up at the ceiling, still giggling as the adrenaline began to fade.
“I don’t want it to be bedtime ever again,” Paul said, his voice soft, almost wistful.
You turned your head to look at him, sprawled out on the massive mattress, dark hair in his eyes that reflected the dim moonlight streaming through the window. You understood exactly what he meant.
“Me neither,” you replied with a smile. Your hand found his under the covers.
Neither of you moved as your true bedtime took over, the quiet settling in around you, comfortable and warm. You fell asleep like that, fingers intertwined, with no concept of what it meant to have boundaries. There was just Paul, and you, and the night that was never long enough.
***
In the wake of your early teens at the castle, sneaking into each other’s rooms had become less about rebellion and more about comfort. The innocence of bouncing on beds and stifled laughter gave way to whispered conversations in the dark and the shared weight of fears neither of you quite understood yet.
The first time Paul came to your room because of a nightmare, it startled you. You were just about to drift off when you heard the soft creak of your door, followed by the quiet patter of feet. You jerked up from the mess of blankets, blinking into the darkness. Confusion and perhaps a bit of fear grasped you, until you saw his silhouette standing near the edge of your bed.
“Paul?” you whispered, straightening up. “What’s wrong?”
He didn’t answer at first, he didn’t know how. With his tense expression and shadows playing across his face, he looked haunted despite his still small, boy-like frame. You knew him in and out by now, and could clearly read the signs of his nails digging into the skin of his fingers, breathing shallow and uneven.
“Can I stay?” His voice was rougher than usual, like he was barely holding it together.
“Of course.”
You didn’t ask any questions, it was a silent understanding. Instead, you lifted the blanket, making room for him. He crawled in without hesitation, laying his head on the pillow on your left. His body rigid beside yours for a moment before he relaxed, the tension slowly draining away.
Lying there, you listened to the sound of his breathing steadying, feeling the warmth of his presence next to you, arm against arm. It was quiet, but not silent – the kind of quiet that only existed when you knew someone else was there with you. Someone who understood. Someone who would never judge you for being afraid.
In his newfound safety, Paul drifted off easier than he could in his own bed. Yours was significantly smaller, but somehow softer, and he could actually feel the weight of you beside him on the mattress. He could ground himself in your presence. When he fell asleep, his head fell slightly to the side, his hair brushing against your cheek.
You, on the other hand, stayed awake a little longer, staring up at the ceiling, your thoughts racing.
You’d always been each other’s rock, but now, something was different. The comfort you found in his presence was deeper, more profound. It wasn’t just about not wanting to be alone anymore, it was about needing him specifically. It brought a smile to your face to know that he found that same assurance in you.
***
The weights on your shoulders materialised and became clearer as you grew beside each other. At sixteen, the favours Duke Leto had bestowed upon you by allowing you residence and education at Caladan felt like a debt more than a blessing. One you had to repay through excellence, through true devotion to any and all training given to you. While Paul tried to seem more lighthearted about it all, it could be felt in the air all the same. You were no longer just two children sneaking around a castle that seemed to never end. You were a future duke and a noblewoman-in-training, navigating a world that seemed to have its eyes on you at every moment.
To earn your gifted title and position and prove yourself worthy of your place as Paul’s friend, you poured over every textbook your teachers assigned you. The study of Caladan, of politics, traditions and customs occupied your mind to the extent that you neglected the occupant of your heart.
Yet, at late hours, it was always Paul’s bedroom floor the pair found themselves splayed across.
Sheets of notes, pens and books layed on top of themselves in a system neither of you could have been able to explain to an outsider. Paul against the wall with his notebook, you stomach-down on the carpet, nose buried between the words in your textbook.
“You’re going to wear yourself out.” Paul’s words were muttered, watching you through tired eyes.
You shook your head. “I’m fine. Just one more chapter.”
“You said that an hour ago.”
“I mean it this time.”
Paul didn’t argue, but you could feel his eyes on you as you worked, his presence a quiet comfort beside you. It had become routine, the two of you studying together, you claimed you worked better that way. Paul occasionally asking questions while you tried to focus on your own work but more often than not, you ended up helping him instead of yourself.
Your one-more-chapter became two more as you tried to retain the information, but your eyelids grew heavier, your focus slipping. The same sentence became burned into your retinas without making much more sense.
Ever so slowly, your head was brought closer and closer to the ink. Eventually it was all you could see before your cheek hit the page – you were out as a light.
Paul watched you for a moment, a soft smile playing on his lips. This was not the first time. He closed his own book and moved quietly to your side. He brought a finger up to brush some of your hair out of your face before he rolled you over. Gently, he lifted you, careful not to wake you as he carried you to the bed. His bed.
It had almost become part of the routine, he watches you exhaust yourself and then ensures you get the rest you deserve. He had done this before, but each time, it made his chest tighten more in ways he didn’t fully understand.
As he laid you down delicately, he hesitated by your side for just a moment, watching the rise and fall of your chest, the peaceful expression on your face. He didn’t realise how often he found himself staring at you like this, wondering when the girl who used to be his playmate had become someone he couldn’t stop thinking about. Someone he wanted to protect, to keep close, even as you worked yourself to the bone. He wanted to tell you you didn’t have to, that he knew and that you were enough. Instead, he let his instinct win and lightly caressed the soft flesh of your arm.
After a brief pause, Paul pulled the covers over you and sat on your edge of the bed for a while longer. He was tired himself, but he didn’t want to move. Not just yet.
***
The past few months felt as if they stretched on for years with how much change and development you were faced with, almost forcefully. Despite your efforts, the older you got, the more you felt like a young girl attempting to parade as a grown woman ready for whatever duties Duke Leto sees fit of you, as a “noblewoman” without any true blood given nobility.
Paul had been dancing around your worries for a while now, cutting off your worried rants with funny quips and dragging you from the library or training room to the beach when he believed you too worrisome. However, his duties were catching up to him as well, even when he tried to balance on the beam with you. He would be a duke one day, and though he had acted like a prince all his life, this was much more real.
His duties were specifically catching up to him in the form of one Lady Jessica. Reminders, comments, requests to his teachers and staff. She wanted him to start becoming the man he needs to be.
One of her lectures was playing out before your eyes in the library, though it escaped you how it even began. The soft, rhythmic drumming of the rain against the high windows felt like the one thing tethering you this world as she spoke, shadows cast across her face.
Lady Jessica’s voice sliced through the rain, calm but pointed. Leaving the air around you feeling heavy. You sat at a table beside Paul, as she stood above you, a judge passing through your reading session. Her sharp eyes, blue within blue, never seemed to miss anything.
She had always watched you carefully, ever since you were children – though it wasn’t until recently that you noticed how her gaze lingered on you. Emotion indecipherable, yet somehow your stomach seared from it. She was assessing you on criteria it felt you had no control over.
“You’re both approaching the age where things will change,” Jessica said, her gaze flicking between you and Paul. Her tone was deceptively gentle, like the calm before a storm. “You can no longer afford to be... careless.”
There was a long pause, a silence that felt charged with unspoken meaning. Paul shifted beside you, and though you didn’t look at him, you could feel the tension in the way he carried himself, alert, almost defensive.
“I’m not just speaking about duties to the House or the formalities expected of you as you come of age.” Lady Jessica’s eyes rested on you, sharp and assessing. “I’m also speaking about the way you conduct yourselves in your personal relationships.”
Your heart stuttered at the implication, warmth creeping up the back of your neck. You did not wish to dig into the meaning behind her words.
This was not the first time she’d given such a lecture, but it was the first time it felt so personal. So aimed. It was understood she must be referring to the hours upon hours you spent together, including in the moonlight. The quiet moments where you and Paul sought each other out, clinging to your comfort when the world felt too heavy to bear alone.
It was never intended to be anything inappropriate. You were each other’s safety nets, just like you had always been. But still, you felt a pang of shame coil in your chest at the thought of it being seen that way.
“You have been given responsibilities that go beyond your own desires,” Jessica continued, turning slightly toward Paul. “You are the heir to the House of Atreides, Paul. Every decision you make now, every relationship you allow to develop, can impact that legacy.”
Paul’s jaw clenched, and for the first time, you risked a glance at him. His face was unreadable, but the tension in his posture betrayed his discomfort. His eyes flicked to you, worry clouding them more than annoyance at his mother’s words. He searched your face for something, and did not seem happy with what he saw, but you ripped your gaze away a mere second after.
He was not thinking about his legacy. In that moment, all he thought about was you and how you were feeling.
Your stomach twisted, and the weight of it all – the difference in your status, the expectations that shadowed both your lives – seemed too much. Lady Jessica was not wrong, and Gods did you hate it. You glanced down, willing the words to settle somewhere far away, somewhere that wouldn’t hurt so much.
“You must understand,” Jessica said, her voice softer now, but no less firm, “the time for childish games is over. It’s time for both of you to take your roles more seriously. The future will not wait for you to be ready.”
The words hit you harder than they should have, like a reprimand for something you had not yet done but already felt guilty about. You wanted to say something, anything to show that you understood, that you weren’t some distraction pulling Paul away from his responsibilities, but the words stuck in your throat. Instead, you nodded stiffly, keeping your eyes trained on the floor.
Jessica gave a tight-lipped smile you did not see, before turning around to take her leave, pleased with the efficiency of your talk. She was gone, her robes whispering against the stone floor as she left you alone with the silence she had created between you two.
For a long moment, neither of you moved. The weight of Jessica’s words still hung heavy in the room, thickening the air between you. You could feel Paul’s gaze on you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look up at him, not yet.
“She didn’t mean it like that,” Paul finally said, his voice low and careful, like he was testing the waters.
When you did not respond, Paul let out a soft sigh, moving his body towards you. “She’s just worried. That’s all. My mother—”
“Your mother is always worried,” you cut in, more sharply than you intended. You could feel the weight of it all pressing down on you. The constant reminders of how you didn’t quite fit into this world of nobility and politics, how your presence was tolerated but not truly embraced by the one woman you wished to be on your side. “And maybe she has a point. I’ve been distracting you. I shouldn’t... I shouldn’t keep coming to you.”
You did not elaborate, you did not need to.
Paul’s expression tightened, and before you could move away, he reached out, gently gripping your hands between his. His touch was warm, grounding, but you tried not to let yourself sink into it.
“No,” he said, his voice firm now. “You haven’t been distracting me. You’ve... you’ve been keeping me sane. It’s not the same thing.”
You swallowed hard, shaking your head again. “But your mother thinks—”
“I don’t care what my mother thinks.”
The words were out of Paul’s mouth before he could stop them, and for a moment, he looked almost startled by his own admission. He blinked, as if trying to make sense of his own boldness, before his grip on your hands tightened just slightly, his eyes locking onto yours.
“I don’t care what she thinks about the time we spend together,” he said, quieter this time, but no less intense. “She doesn’t understand. She doesn’t know what it’s like to feel like you’re drowning, like the world’s pressing in from every side, and you’re just. Alone.”
You looked up at him then, your breath catching at the rawness in his voice. Paul never let anyone see him like this—not even you most of the time, not fully. But now, there was something in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. Desperation, maybe. Or something deeper, something unspoken.
“Whenever I’m with you, it’s the only time I don’t feel that way,” he continued, his voice low, like he was sharing a secret he’d been keeping for too long. “You’re not a distraction. You’re the only thing that keeps me steady.”
Your chest tightened, torn between the overwhelming urge to believe him and the guilt that had been festering inside you since Jessica’s words. You wanted to argue, but the look in his eyes made it impossible to say any words out loud.
So instead, you swallowed your thoughts, pressing them deep down where they couldn’t be reached.
“We just need to be more careful,” you said softly, pulling your hands away from his grasp. Your skin still tingled where his fingers had been. “Your mother’s right. We can’t keep hiding away in each other’s rooms. We can’t... we can’t keep acting like kids.”
Paul’s face fell, the tension in his shoulders sagging slightly. His now-free hands went up to rub at his face before he sighed. “But we’re not acting like kids.”
“Aren’t we?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper. “We’re literally sneaking into each other’s beds in the middle of the night, Paul. We’re still pretending like nothing’s changed.”
Paul was quiet for a long moment, his eyes flicking away from you, as if he couldn’t bring himself to argue. Maybe because deep down, he knew you were right.
But then, just as the silence between you started to feel unbearable, he spoke again, his voice quieter, but full of conviction.
“Nothing has changed though. Not between us.”
The words lingered in the air, and for the first time in a long while, you didn’t know how to respond. A part of you wanted to believe him, wanted to cling to the idea that no matter what the world threw at you, no matter what Lady Jessica said, you and Paul would always be the same. The same two people who had spent years leaning on each other, who had always been there to catch each other when the ground fell away.
Yet, you knew what Paul’s wishful thinking sounded like more than anyone else. You knew everything about him. And in this moment, you knew he was wrong. No matter how much you both tried to ignore it, the future was closing in around you.
“I should go,” you said quietly, getting up from your seat before he could say or do anything to stop you. “I need to think.”
Paul didn’t say anything, but the look in his eyes was enough to keep you rooted in place for just a moment longer, looking down at him. He still looked so young, his eyes so wide. That familiar ache settled in your chest, the same ache that came whenever you thought about what you were trying so hard not to lose.
“I will see you tomorrow,” you said, and with that you left him to sit with the sound of rain drops against glass.
After Jessica’s most pointed lecture, your unease at night, the one you and Paul seemed cursed to be forever plagued by as children of the castle, had only increased. You woke in cold sweat or you did not wake at all – regardless, you stayed in your own bed, never venturing down that familiar path in the hallway. You hugged your knees for comfort.
You were a proper young woman. As you ought to be.
Nothing could get you and Paul to stop spending time with each other entirely though, not his mother and certainly not complicated feelings. There was already a lot of that flowing around anyway.
Classes, meals, walks around the hallways, the occasional silent moment watching the waves side by side in a large window. Never late-night visits. Never lingering too much, especially not around Jessica.
She seemed pleased with your development, so you bit your cheek and played the part.
It had been months since either of you crossed that invisible boundary, but the comfort of those nights lingered in your minds, a shared memory you couldn’t quite let go of. One that you held tight on rough nights.
Ironically enough, it was the nights without thunder or storms that you struggled the most. Gripped by fear and horror, you fought through the worst nightmare you had experienced in many years. Mangled bodies, fire and smoke, Paul’s face distorted by sandstorms that you swear you could feel cut into your fragile skin like class.
The scream was lodged in your throat as you shot up, finally able to pull yourself out of the depths of your consciousness of all that has happened and all you fear will. Drowning in sweat and tears, violently trembling all over, you suddenly found yourself on your feet in the cold hallway.
No coherent thoughts were running through your head, just instinct and an intense need to be saved from your own mind. Even in a waking state, you still felt half infused in the nightmare, seeing the scenes when you blink, as if tattooed on your eyelids.
Almost running down the known path, your hand grazing the wall as you went to stabilise yourself. The rational part of your brain told you it wasn’t appropriate, that you should listen to Jessica, you were both too old to be doing this – but you were not in a rational state of mind right now. Right now you were the same scared little girl you have always been, the one you fear you always will be, and you knew what you needed to do to quiet her screams.
When you reached his door, you paused, your hand hovering over the handle. What if he didn’t want this anymore? What if he would turn you away?
Before you could second-guess yourself further, the door creaked open, and there he was. Paul stood in the doorway, lit up from behind by a single candle on his nightstand. His eyes were wide as he took the sight of you in, but there was no real surprise etched on his face. However, if you weren’t mistaken, you thought you saw relief in it. Like he had been waiting for you, hoping for you to come.
Paul breathed your name out like a ‘thank you’, stepping aside to let you in before you could even speak. His hair was dishevelled, his shirt wrinkled from where he must have been lying awake, staring at the tall ceiling.
You slipped in past him, already feeling some tension leave your body as soon as the door closed behind you. You weren’t sure what to say. Maybe you didn’t need to say anything at all. Letting your eyes meet his, the look on Paul’s face told you everything you needed to know.
Without a word, you moved toward the bed, and Paul followed, his presence a warm, steadying force behind you. He didn’t ask you any questions, he didn’t need to. You both knew that whatever it was, it was enough to bring you here, to him.
You hesitated for just a moment, feeling the weight of the years between you. When you were children, there had been no second thoughts, no hesitation. But now, voices were creeping in – but you shoved them aside like his blankets, and climbed into his bed.
When Paul slid into bed beside you, everything felt right again.
The tension in your body melted away as he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. You could hear the steady rhythm of his breathing, feel the warmth of his skin against yours, and suddenly, the fear that had gripped you moments ago faded into nothing.
You rested your head against his chest, closing your eyes as the last of your tremors subsided. He was your anchor, your constant in a world that was rapidly spinning out of control.
“Are you okay?” Paul finally asked, his voice soft, almost a whisper.
You nodded against him, but your throat felt tight, your words stuck behind the weight of everything unsaid. The nightmare had shaken you more than you wanted to admit, and it wasn’t just about the dark images in your head. It was the fear of losing Paul, of losing the one person who had been by your side for as long as you could remember.
“I’m glad you came,” Paul said quietly. “I wanted to come to you, but—” He trailed off, his hand tightening slightly on your shoulder as if to ground himself.
“I know,” you whispered, finally finding your voice. “I wanted to come sooner.”
There was a pause, and then, after a long moment, Paul’s thumb began tracing slow circles on your arm, his touch gentle but deliberate. It was a gesture of comfort, of familiarity.
“I’ll always be here,” he murmured, so softly you almost didn’t hear him. “I swear it.”
You opened your eyes and tilted your head up, meeting his gaze in the dim light. His face was serious, his eyes reflecting the weight of the promise he’d just made. For a brief second, you thought he might say more, something you’d been waiting for but weren’t ready to confront.
Instead, Paul’s expression softened, and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, the gesture tender, reassuring. It was something he might have done when you were younger, but now it felt different. It wasn’t just comfort anymore—it was a part of the promise.
Neither of you said anything after that. You simply held each other, letting the quiet settle in. The world outside might have been shifting, changing in ways neither of you could control, but here, in the stillness of the night, there was nothing but you and Paul.
You didn’t know when you fell asleep, only that, for the first time in a long while, you felt safe. And unfortunately, as the next few days would ensure, it was the last time for a long while as well.
***
When Arrakis claimed Duke Leto, it also claimed something inside Paul.
He wasn’t the same after that day. The boy who had been your partner in rebellion, the one who made you laugh even in the darkest of times, had hardened. His grief was silent, buried under layers of duty and survival, but you could see it. It was in the way his hands trembled ever so slightly when he thought no one was looking, the way his eyes had dulled since your arrival on this cursed planet.
In the middle of it all, you felt lost too. You had lost the closest you had to a father figure in Duke Leto, but worse, you were losing Paul—bit by bit, day by day, as he was forced to become someone you struggled to recognise. This was a different kind of nightmare, one you couldn’t wake from.
After growing used to the luxury of Caladan Castle’s beddings, you found yourself huddled with Paul in a small tent in the middle of the desert, the harsh winds of Arrakis howling outside. There was nothing but sand for miles, and for the first time since arriving on this planet, you felt truly untethered from the life you once knew.
Paul sat across from you, his back pressed against the rough fabric of the tent, his face half-shadowed by the faint light from a small glowglobe. His eyes were distant, fixed on something you couldn’t see, something only he could comprehend.
“Paul?” you whispered, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to keep it steady.
He didn’t answer at first, but then, slowly, his gaze shifted to you. There was a fragility there that caught you off guard—a vulnerability that reminded you of the boy you used to sneak around the castle with, the one who used to chase away your fears with a single glance.
Without thinking, you moved closer, kneeling in front of him. His breath hitched as you reached out, gently placing one hand on his arm and the other on his cheek. He looked down at your fingers, as if surprised by the touch, before his eyes met yours again.
You wanted to say something, anything at all, to ease his pain. To take some of the burden off his shoulders, even if that meant taking them upon your own. No words felt worthy enough and died in your throat, while the sentiment remained hot on your tongue.
With Arrakis raging around you, you wanted him to feel some sense of security.
“I’m still here,” you whispered, echoing the words he had said to you when you were the one needing the comfort.
For a moment, he just stared at you. Then, with a twitch of his lips, something cracked in his expression, something that had been carefully held in place to keep it all in. Paul’s shoulders sagged, the weight of loss and doom pressing down on him all at once.
He didn’t say anything, but when you shifted closer and pulled him into your arms, he didn’t resist. He simply let you hold him, his head resting against your shoulder, his breath shaky and uneven.
You sat like that for a long time, wrapped in each other’s presence as the storm outside raged on. The world around you was crumbling, but here, in the faux quiet of the tent, there was nothing but the two of you. You didn’t have words for what you were feeling, but it didn’t matter. Paul understood. He always had.
As if the continued touch broke him, Paul made a sound like a tear-less sob, saving water while still drowning in emotion. His arms tightened around you, holding onto you for dear life.
He murmured something against your neck that you couldn’t hear. You made an inquisitive humming sound as you began to stroke his back, coaxing him through his pain.
“I can’t lose you,” he whispered. His voice was raw, it sent ripples through your heart. “Please.”
“You won’t,” you promised, your fingers moving up to card through his hair. “I’m not going anywhere, Paul. I’ll be right here with you.”
If he wanted to answer, he couldn’t. Instead he let himself have this moment before facing a world that seemed increasingly too big.
***
Life among the Fremen was harsh, unforgiving, but the two of you had learned to survive. It had been weeks since you arrived in the sietch, and every day felt like a battle—against the elements, against the constant threat of danger, against the growing distance between you and the boy you grew up with.
The desert night was deceptively cool, the air carrying a sharpness that contrasted with the oppressive heat of the day. You stood just outside the sietch, gazing up at the unfamiliar stars that stretched endlessly above the dunes. The sky was clear—almost too clear—so different from the comforting overcast of Caladan, the gentle crash of waves a memory long lost to the wind. You inhaled deeply, trying to ground yourself, but the vastness of the desert made you feel small. Disconnected.
There were few quiet moments here, and you took a deep breath as you were surrounded by it.
“I thought I’d find you here.”
There was a shuffle of footsteps behind you, soft but deliberate. Without turning, you of course knew it was Paul. He came up behind you, standing slightly to your left so you could see him in your sideview. You leaned back, resting your shoulder on his own.
You smiled faintly, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Couldn’t sleep.”
Paul laughed lowly – some things never change. “Neither could I.”
You shook your head, still staring at the stars. “I don’t know if I’ve had a proper night’s sleep since we left Caladan.”
“I miss the rain,” Paul said quietly. “I never thought I would. I used to complain about it when we were kids.”
You smiled faintly. “Don’t lie, you hated being inside when it rained. You’d drag me out into the mud even when it was pouring.”
He let out a soft chuckle. “Well, you never said no.”
“I never could.”
There was a pause, one that carried the weight of the past few months – Arrakis, the loss of Duke Leto, the constant struggle for survival. The two of you had grown so used to moving, fighting, planning for the next step, that there had been no time to sit with your grief. No time to just be, in the way you only can with each other.
“It’s strange, isn’t it?” Paul murmured, glancing at you sideways. “How quickly everything changes. A few months ago, we were on Caladan, complaining about studies, sneaking into each other’s rooms like we always used to... and now–”
“We’re here,” you finished for him, your voice quieter. “In the middle of the desert.”
Paul’s eyes lingered on you for a moment, and you felt the weight of his gaze. You’d been through so much together, seen so much of each other, in ways no one else had. Yet there was still a distance between you now, a hesitation that hadn’t been there when you were younger.
It was as though you both knew you were standing on the edge of something, but neither of you dared to cross it.
“I was thinking...” Paul started, his voice trailing off. He looked away, frowning slightly as if choosing his words carefully. “Would it be... strange if you stayed with me tonight? Just for comfort, I mean.”
Your heart skipped, somehow caught off guard by the question. There had been so many nights, both as children and as teenagers, where you had found solace in each other’s company. Whether from nightmares, from stress, or simply because being apart felt wrong.
“Not strange, anyone would need a bit of comfort in our situation,” you tried at humour before looking back at him with soft eyes.
He didn’t say anything, seemingly trapped between his thoughts. Usually when you spend the night together lately it was because of difficult emotions. You open the door for him to talk about his feelings.
“Are you– are you okay?” you asked, searching his face for the answer.
Paul was always the one holding everything together, always taking on the weight of his responsibilities without complaint. But tonight, standing under the cold desert sky, he seemed tired. Tired in a way that went beyond just sleepless nights.
He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he looked out over the dunes, his expression unreadable, though the subtle tightening of his jaw told you he was wrestling with something.
“I’ve been thinking about my father,” he finally said, his voice thick with the grief he rarely let slip. “About everything he wanted for me. For us. How he wanted me to be a ruler who led with compassion, but how can I...?” He trailed off, swallowing hard, and you could see the battle raging behind his eyes.“I don’t know if I can be what he wanted.”
Your heart ached at his words. You had always known Paul felt the weight of his future, but you hadn’t realised how deeply it cut. Stepping closer, you touched his arm lightly, drawing his attention back to you.
“You already are,” you said softly. “Even in the middle of all this, Paul, you haven’t lost that part of yourself. Your father would see that.”
He exhaled shakily, meeting your gaze, and for a moment, it felt like the world fell away. There was a vulnerability there, one he rarely let show. It made something inside you shift, as though the careful lines you had mentally drawn to protect yourself, to keep things unchanged between you, were suddenly blurring.
“I’m just afraid of losing more,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Of losing everyone I care about. Losing you.”
The words settled heavily in the space between you, a truth that had always lingered but was now undeniable. You were no longer just childhood friends. You were no longer just companions trying to survive. There was a throne in your heart, and on it, Paul was more than just a duke.
“You won’t lose me,” you said firmly, turning towards him and stepping even closer. “You couldn’t. I’m here, Paul, I’ve always been here.”
Paul stared at you, his expression shifting into something you couldn’t quite place. His eyes softened, the hard edges that had been carved into him by grief and duty melting away, if only for a moment. There was something unspoken in the way he looked at you now, something that had been building for years but had never quite been said aloud.
“You don’t understand,” Paul whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “I can’t lose you. Not just because you’re the last piece of Caladan I have left... but because I—”
He stopped, his throat working as if the words were too hard to say. But you knew what he meant. You’d always known, hadn’t you?
Paul took a step closer, the last step separating his body from yours. His hand lifted to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, the touch sending a shiver down your spine. His fingers lingered at the base of your neck, and you were sure he could feel the rapid beat of your heart in your pulsepoint. It echoed the weight of what he wasn’t saying.
“You can say it,” you whispered, your voice trembling, though you weren’t sure if it was from fear or anticipation.
Paul’s breath hitched, and for a moment, he looked like he was on the verge of stepping back, of retreating into that familiar space where he could hide from the truth. But then his palm made contact with the side of your neck, and he leaned in closer, his forehead resting against yours. Breathing in deeply, slowly.
“I love you,” he whispered, the words tumbling out like a secret he had been holding onto for too long. “I have loved you for so long, and I didn’t even realise it. But now, I can’t stop thinking about it. About you.”
Your heart stuttered at the confession, your breath catching in your throat. It wasn’t a declaration shouted from the rooftops, it wasn’t a grand, romantic gesture. It was quiet, real, the kind of love that had grown slowly over years, woven into every shared moment, every laugh, every late-night conversation.
“And I love you,” you whispered back, the words barely audible in the quiet of the desert night. “You’re my best friend, my person. You must know that.”
Paul let out a soft, almost relieved breath, his hand moving up to cup your cheek as he tilted your face up to meet his. There was a question in his eyes, one he didn’t need to ask. You answered it by leaning in, lips barely brushing against his, before he closed the final gap with the gentlest of kisses. He was tentative, as though testing the waters of something new, something fragile but real.
It was a kiss that felt like a promise.
It lingered, even when he pulled back ever so slowly, resting his forehead back against yours.
You both stood there in the quiet, the weight of the desert and the night around you, but the tension between you finally dissipating through your touches.
“Will you stay with me tonight?” Paul whispered again, his voice steady this time, though the vulnerability was still there, just beneath the surface.
“I will stay with you every night, if that would make you happy.” There was no hesitation in your voice or your heart. Just love.
A smile spread on his face before he pressed it against your lips in another kiss. Searing, caring, passionate. This was the closest you have seen him to his old boyish self, always happy to bask in your presence.
Letting his hand travel down to find yours, he interlaced your fingers and pulled you back into the sietch.
His room was small, barely big enough for the both of you, a stark contrast to your conditions at Caladan. But as you lay down beside each other, it didn’t matter, you were glad for the excuse to keep him even closer. Paul wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly, and for the first time since Arrakis had stolen everything from you, you felt safe. Safe in the knowledge that whatever came next, whatever trials the desert or the universe had in store, you wouldn’t face them alone.
As you lay in his arms, your head resting against his chest, you whispered, “We’ll get through this, Paul. Together.”
Paul’s grip tightened around you, and you could hear the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear.
“We will,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Not ever.”
“And I you. No matter what, my love.”
Warmth spread across Paul’s face at the name. He thought, with sleep beginning to cloud his mind, that though there are many uncomfortable changes – that is one he will happily accept.
For the first time in weeks, you both fell asleep easily, wrapped in the comfort of each other, and the quiet promise of the love that had finally, after all these years, been released into dry air.
#dune#dune part 1#dune part 2#paul#paul atreides#paul atreides x reader#paul atredies x you#timothee chalamet#timothee x reader#paul x reader#paul atreides fluff#paul atreides angst#paul atreides smut#childhood friends to lovers#dune movie#dune 2#house atreides#lady jessica#duke leto#duke leto atreides#paul muad'dib#cuddles#sharing bed#paul atreides cuddles#hurt/comfort#paul atreides hurt/comfort#fremen#timothee chalamet x reader
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How the batboys would react to shopping!
Quick A/N: Thank you for all of the support! I appreciate every single one of you!! I have also added Duke just send an ask if you’d like him to also be included in my previous posts and I’ll make it happen.
Dick Grayson
You would both spend an equal amount doing shopping for yourselves. This means you’d also help Dick with his shopping too.
Dick would make no secret of trying to find clothes that match the ones you just bought- he’ll hold up your new dress to a jacket in the store, to check the shades of colour are the same.
You’d most likely spend a long time at the shopping centre if you both love shopping. However if you aren’t the biggest fan of shopping then you’d still spend a fair amount of time shopping, just because Dick likes it so much.
Dick is one of the best men to go shopping with opinion wise. He gives the best advice and slowly steers you away from the less than attractive pieces of clothing. You’ll find you have plenty of fully planned outfits by the end of the trip.
The time you’d go shopping is the morning- Dick would make an entire day out of the spree, which means you’d wrap it up between late noon or evening time.
Jason Todd
Unless you’re shopping for something Jason has an interest in, like books, he won’t be contented following you around like a guard dog. So you’d have to be sneakier with planning your shopping trips.
You’d have to ease him into the day gently by shopping for books and then going to a shop you’d want to go to. Then you’d have a meal and continue shopping, ensuring you drop in shops you’ll know he wants to go to so he doesn’t get bored.
Your plan works, but Jason gets wise and realises. He pretends not to notice, because he adores the fact that you’re not selfish. You make the day fun for him as well and act on what he wants to do.
The shopping day would most likely begin at noon, because Jason’s tired from patrol the night beforehand and has slept in.
If you tell him how excited you are about the trip though, he’ll make the extra effort to get up earlier and show he’s more enthusiastic.
Tim Drake
Tim’s not afraid to spend money on you and frequently you’ll find you don’t even need to go shopping. Since as soon as you mention one little thing you need, it’ll be right in your hands. He isn’t wrapped around your little finger though, but he wants to communicate to you that he listens to what you say.
Tim’s more of a business now, fun later type of man, you’ll go past shops that perhaps aren’t the highest on your hit list and he’ll grill you to make sure you don’t need anything from them. This leads to you going grocery shopping during your shopping trips.
He’ll hold some of your bags for you though, but only if you really need him too. He’s a firm believer that if he didn’t buy it, he shouldn’t have to deal with it.
The shopping trip is usually in the evening time, since he likes to do them after work. Nevertheless he’ll try and be sneaky occasionally by taking you earlier (this is when you end up going grocery shopping).
Damian Wayne
Damian genuinely doesn’t want to go. He’ll tell you to just go with your friends instead. So you’ll have to be cunning to try and inadvertently get him to agree to go shopping with you.
After a date you’ll make sure you walk a specific way past a store you want to go to. When you mention it Damian begrudgingly takes you, because it would be counterintuitive not to take you when you were so close to the store.
You two go to stores sparingly, it’s not something Damian finds necessary- the internet can be just as useful for shopping in his mind. Although you do argue that you can’t try clothes on- which circles back to the ‘just go with you friends’ solution.
Duke Thomas
Duke absolutely loves going shopping with you. He enjoys walking with you and going window shopping. Sometimes the pair of you will go on impromptu shopping sprees just because you saw something you liked in a window.
Your shopping days are well planned out and he’ll be more than happy to take the day off patrol just to be with you- instead he’ll go patrolling in the night.
Duke loves dragging you around various shops and explaining all his interests in intricate details. He’ll have a massive smile on his face the whole time, as he holds up various things to you and explains their relevance.
Duke is more than happy to wait outside changing rooms for you, no matter how long it takes. He’ll try and be nice about all the clothes you show him- if he doesn’t like any he’ll ask you nicely why you want it.
#dick grayson headcanon#dick grayson x reader#jason todd x reader#jason todd headcanon#damian wayne headcanon#damian wayne x reader#tim drake x reader#tim drake headcanon#duke thomas x reader#duke thomas headcanon
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Sunshine's Guide To Murder│Lee Minho
-Jang Hayun, Lee Felix and Han Jisung are college students who run a very successful true-crime podcast called Three Sunshines' Guide To Murder. For their one year anniversary, they decide to cover the five year old murder of Shin Yuna and the subsequent confession and suicide of Yuna's girlfriend, Lee Chaeryeong who is the older sister of one Lee Minho (Heavily Inspired by Holly Jackson's Book Triology; A Good Girl's Guide To Murder)
Pairing: Lee Minho x fem!reader (College AU) (reader is named Hayun)
Uploading Schedule: Will Be All Over The Place
Profiles: Murder Specialists; Theatre Kids & 1 Lawyer
Prologue Chapter One: DEFCON ONE Potential Chapter Two: WHORE HOUSE Chapter Three: Be Anything But Yourselves Chapter Four: I Murder Women For Fun Vibes Chapter Five: Scooby Squad Chapter Six: Playing Baby Sitter Chapter Seven: Waiting For Death Chapter Eight: Cornered Animals Bite Chapter Nine: Out Chapter Ten: Only She Knows The Rules Chapter Eleven: She's Too Powerful Chapter Twelve: I'm Praising You Chapter Thirteen: The Minho Way Chapter Fourteen: Burn It Chapter Fifteen: Who's The Daddy? Chapter Sixteen: All This Time Chapter Seventeen: MIRACULOUS LADYBUG Chapter Eighteen: Windows To Your Soul Chapter Nineteen: You Made Her Your Downfall Chapter Twenty: Cool Cool Cool Chapter Twenty One: It's Over Chapter Twenty Two: The Minho Way Still Sucks Chapter Twenty Three: Gil? Chapter Twenty Four: A Fuckton Of People Chapter Twenty Five: The Duke Or The Viscount? Chapter Twenty Six: Detox Chapter Twenty Seven: RUE WHEN WAS THIS? Chapter Twenty Eight: I Bite Chapter Twenty Nine: Narnia: The Bullshit Chronicles Chapter Thirty: Toad In The Pond Chapter Thirty One: Sounds Illegal As Fuck Chapter Thirty Two: Merry Fucking Christmas Chapter Thirty Three: Sex Starved Maniacs Chapter Thirty Four: Fan Event Chapter Thirty Five: You’re Too Good Chapter Thirty Six: There’s No Getting Away Chapter Thirty Seven: Title TBD Chapter Thirty Eight: Title TBD Chapter Thirty Nine: Title TBD Chapter Forty: Epilogue
Moodboards:
Taglist: @hityoulikebahng @drewsandsebastianswife @fackeraccount @lily-loves-kpop @stilldontknowhoiam
@ziggy1221 @justaspoonofjam @tr-mha-fan @candycurshidkwhatthehell
@heeseungspookie @smigcrazy @skzstannie @nightmarenyxx @beaann
#masterlist#lee minho x y/n#lee minho x reader#lee minho x you#lee know x reader#lee know stray kids#lee know x y/n#lee know x you#lee minho#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#stray kids x you#stray kids angst#stray kids fluff#skz smau#stray kids smau#stray kids texts#stray kids fake texts#skz texts#stray kids masterlist#lee know x oc#lee know
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written in the stars | bridgerton!txt
as I've now written three full stories in this universe, I thought I should put them all into a series masterlist - please enjoy :)
TXT Masterlist
. . . . .
if you'll have me | choi yeonjun
~ part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4
Yeonjun Choi, Duke of Hastings, is in want of a wife. Boxed in from all directions by the overbearing mamas of the ton, he begins his arduous search this season for not fortune, not love, but merely the perfect woman to succeed his mother's place. None of the daughters of high society manage to catch his eye, however, or fit his overwhelming list of standards—at least until he meets Miss Y/N L/N, the queen's diamond of the season, newly arrived in town from abroad and said to be one of the most accomplished women to grace the ton in a generation. You, the eldest daughter and only child of the L/N family, just want stability. With your father dead and the estate passed to a cousin, leaving only your dowry and a small pittance from the inheritance left intact, you begin your search for a husband with money enough to keep you and your mother afloat. It seems like a miracle when, after being crowned the queen's diamond, the Duke of Hastings himself asks for your hand—but as you learn of his complete indifference to the concept of love, you begin to doubt yourself. Perhaps money is not enough to keep your hand—maybe you desired a true love match more than you thought. Trapped in a marriage of convenience that everyone believes is a love story, you and Yeonjun find yourselves forced to reevaluate what you want out of this match. Between balls and promenades, dances and poetry, you begin to view each other beyond the pithy conversations allowed in the courting stages, learning to see one another not just as business partners, but perhaps friends as well. And as you begin to reconcile your needs and wants, your goals and desires, maybe, just maybe— The ton's belief that you are a love match can find some truth, too.
.
a very fine line, indeed | choi beomgyu
~ part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8
In a society where it only takes a year for a young woman in search of a husband to be considered out of season, it is no wonder that by your third year out, you are desperate to marry. Known as one of the beauties of the ton, such a task should not be difficult for you—but with an absent father, no dowry, and a reputation centered around your inability to keep your mouth shut around one certain Beomgyu Choi, your prospects are more limited than you’d like. While you cannot recover your family or your wealth, however, the one thing you can try to control is your reputation. So when the third season rolls around, you resolve to keep your distance from Beomgyu Choi, your childhood enemy, and the man you hate most in the world. Enter Beomgyu Choi, second son of the Kensington Viscountcy, one of the most eligible bachelors in the ton. His older brother, cousin, and good friend have all recently married, leaving the mamas to salivate at his doorstep for the chance of marrying one of their daughters to him. When Beomgyu walks in on a particularly traumatizing moment between you and one of the most unsavory men in the ton and learns of your desperation to marry, despite your history of enmity, he proposes you a devious deal—to pretend to court you. It seems like a winning situation for both of you—more gentlemen will take notice of you, enhancing your prospects, and he will have the ton’s mamas off his back—and so, despite your misgivings, you agree. With you hell bent on marriage and Beomgyu completely indifferent to the concept, even independent of your hatred for each other, it seems unlikely that any sort of true affection will bloom. But as you begrudgingly put aside your differences to spend more and more time in one another’s company, and as you grow to know each other beyond your ill-conceived preconceptions from childhood, you begin to realize that perhaps you two have more in common than you had once thought. And as your faked acquaintanceship becomes more truth than fiction, a friendship beginning to bloom most unexpectedly— Perhaps you no longer need to convince the ton of the veracity of your courtship, because anyone with eyes can see that it is true.
.
melody of the heart | kang taehyun
~ part 1 | part 2
When your father calls you home from the continent to join the London season, for the first time in your life, you nearly throw a fit. You are not just the daughter of a viscount—you’ve made a name for yourself in England and abroad with your prodigious talent at the piano, having since childhood performed for royal courts far and wide. You have traveled far and beyond most other ladies of your rank, and to have your career halted all for the sake of marriage to a man who will likely force you to quit your craft is unthinkable. But all your life you have lived without raising a hand to your father, and so when the letter comes, you return home for the season, hoping and praying to make it through without stirring the waters. Enter Taehyun Kang, Earl of Addiston—recently titled, in search of a wife, and as tired of the season already as you are. During a chance meeting at the season’s third ball you grow to know each other, and as time passes you grow to like each other, a mutual respect forming when you learn the depths of one another’s passions in the arts. In Taehyun you find a respite from the men who would clip your wings for the sake of finding a perfect wife. In you Taehyun finds a kindred spirit who would respect him for himself, and not the lands in his name. Together you navigate the grueling social activities of the London matchmaking project as acquaintances, then as friends, and maybe, just maybe— As lovers, too.
#bridgerton#tomorrow x together#tomorrow by together#yeonjun#soobin#beomgyu#taehyun#huening kai#txt yeonjun#txt soobin#txt beomgyu#txt taehyun#txt huening kai#choi yeonjun x reader#choi soobin x reader#choi beomgyu x reader#kang taehyun x reader#huening kai x reader#written in the stars#blossom-hwa
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𝙨𝙤𝙤𝙣 ("𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙮 𝙗𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙝𝙙𝙖𝙮!")
[ gn!reader ] it's your birthday and your boyfriend is unfortunately not physically present. however, some other people have plans. jason todd x reader [ also heavy reader & batfam i guess ] wc: 2018 cws: n/a!
an: was supposed to post this on my birthday almost two weeks ago but i couldn't finish it on time because of a lot of stuff LOL
As you sip on your coffee, you finally take a look at your messages.
It’s empty for the most part—save for a few birthday greetings from friends and a few messages from scammers about how you won a car (jokes on them; you don’t even have a license!). There’s one message that catches your eye immediately, though.
j 🫀 | 00:00 happy birthday baby 💖💘🫶🫶 really sad that i still wont be home for a couple more days i’m gonna make it up to you every way possible i’m all yours when i get back 💘
You find yourself smiling at his messages—of course because of the content of the text itself, but also for a lot of other things, from how he greeted you at the exact moment of your birthday to how he’s picked up some of your texting mannerisms to his very limited amount of number of messages compared to yours.
You | 09:03 awwwwsshwhJSJFHG 💖💖💖 i love you so much jay!!! imysm pls love come backk… 😞😞😞 ur team better use their time with u wisely u quite literally wont escape me once you step foot back in our apartment
Not giving much more thought to your reply, you continue on with your work, thinking on the side what you’ll do after. Your friends aren’t coming over; they’ve been assigned to meet on Saturday so that you have the whole day to yourselves. Still, you feel like treating yourself a little.
Curing this thought, you find that after work, you gravitate towards the hominess of your favorite thrift store. The owner is an older man who keeps the place the same as it has been since its establishment years ago.
The selection is far from filtered, a completely random selection for the most part, but it adds to the charm. However, his daughters usually help out, and you get to chat with them. They’ve known you as a regular now.
You slip a pair of headphones on and get to work, sifting through a few racks of clothes, shelves of trinkets, and stacks of records. Your jacket, or rather a coat, is wrapped around your waist to make your awfully formal self stand out less in the sea of people in the cozy shop.
You pick up some things mostly for yourself, but a few also with Jason in mind. No reason in particular, but if he asks, it's a welcome-back gift. You found a vinyl pressing of Comalies by Lacuna Coil—something you vaguely remember that he’s been looking for a while now.
Speaking of him, you mindlessly open your phone, hoping to see a message from him.
Nothing. Oh, well.
The walk is only a few blocks away, but your arms are slightly worn from the sifting through the aisles of items. You’re sure you’ll make it, though, even if the bags full of finds weigh a little heavy in your hands. Once you make it to your floor, you can just feel the exhaustion radiating from your arms. You could use a nap right now,
“YN!” You see Steph jump the moment you turn the lights on.
The whole apartment is decorated, decked in classic birthday decor—like balloons and banners. You note a few heads rising from the place they previously were from.
You know, coffee’s good, too. It’s only 6 PM.
As you eye around the room, the picture becomes clear: there are quite a few members of Jason’s family here—notably Dick, Steph, Cass, Tim, Duke, and Damian.
They all look at each other, uneasy. A moment later, a garbled chorus of birthday greetings is shouted.
“Thank you. I’m flattered.” You mumbled, setting your bag of thrifted goods down as you closed the door. “How did you all get here, though-”
“Good question.” Steph nervously laughed, leaping to your side and hooking an arm around you. At this point, the rest of the family wave their hellos before finalizing a few pieces of decoration. “Come on! We made dinner—or, well, Alfred did.”
“Oh, is he here? Where is he?” You said, your lips turning to a smile. It’s been a while since you’ve seen him, you recalled.
“Sorry, he’s at the mansion, busy tending to the old man.” Steph sighed, noticing your excitement.
“Ah,” you nod, still very up in your head. You’re overwhelmed, frankly, but still grateful as ever. To be honest, you’re not the best at receiving surprises like this. “Thank you, though. I’m just a little, well, surprised.”
“Of course,” Dick hummed, quickly joining the conversation between the two of you. “We knew Jason couldn’t make it, and we really wanted you to enjoy your birthday somehow. You’ve done a lot for him and for us as well.”
“Oh, thank you, but it isn’t a huge—”
You’re not even in your kitchen when Damian appears in front of you with a stoic look on his face. If this whole thing was set when you first met Jason, you would’ve thought that he did not want to be here and did not like you at all.
Rest assured, though, his siblings say otherwise. They enjoy teasing him and telling you that he searches for your company from time to time. One time, Dick said he was near deadset on inviting you to Gotham Zoo, seeing how they had your favorite animal sheltered there recently.
“Do you need any assistance with those bags?” He looked at you, eyes flicking down to the plastic bags in your hands.
You shake your head, making strides towards the hallway. “Um, no, thank you. I’m just going to carry these to my bedroom-”
Immediately, he steps in and grabs them. “You shouldn’t exert yourself any further. It’s your birthday, after all. I’ll be taking these.”
Oh. Okay. You stand there a little dumbfounded but nodding. It’s not like you can’t stop him either; he’s already making his way to your room.
Your phone buzzes. You open to see it. It’s from Jason. You sigh, knowing he won’t be able to make it.
j 🫀 | 18:24 i’ll be back really soon don’t you worry 💖
Attached to his message is a video. While the others are distracted, you lower your phone’s volume to watch it. You can just feel the embarrassment on his face as he records a video of himself singing Happy Birthday to you behind some dingy place.
How the hell did he even send it from there? Oh, the wonders of reception, you supposed.
You quickly type out a response for him, rocking from the balls of your heels to your toes with your lips only spread out. You couldn’t wait for “a few more days” or something. You also tell him how his family threw a last-minute birthday party and how you can’t be any happier (It just really isn’t visible with the exhaustion weighing heavy on your shoulders.).
“Is everything all right now?” You hear Dick ask Duke, Cass, and Tim from behind you. You turn around to see them giving him an affirmative yes.
“All right then,” he grins. Steph is pulling a cake from your fridge, and it's only now that you realize that your countertop is filled with your favorite cuisines by Alfred. You worry about the amount of time this took up on top of the rest of the tasks he has to tend to.
They all sing a happy birthday to you, a mixture of liveliness and yet also idleness, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything nonetheless. Sure, your brain might be more than overloaded at this point, but you’re just thankful that they made the collective effort to celebrate your birthday.
It makes you feel a little bad because of all of the trouble you’re more than certain had arisen because of this, but you push that thought back. They don’t need to hear that.
All six of them are standing in front of you, and it only denies your fears of being alienated and inconsequential to the greats who are the family before you. You’re not sure why or how they accepted you wholeheartedly, but God, do you not just take the love that they give?
Your phone rings, and you look to see who it is. You pick up—it’s Jason.
You notice how Steph wants to go back to you once more, but you mumble an apology to her, telling her that your boyfriend was calling. She nodded and headed over to Duke to, what you can assume, is chit-chat.
“Hello! Good evening, Jay-love,” you hum.
Your viewpoints to Dick, who looks at you curiously. Your voice is far from loud, and you do not want to disrupt anything, so you mouth Jason’s name to him before he nods and continues talking to Tim, Cass joining in.
“Hey, baby, happy birthday,” a few words follow, but you can’t hear much because of the chattering around you.
“Ah, thank you. I miss you,” you chuckled. “Could you come again, though? I can’t hear well.”
You hear a chuckle from the other end. “No, it’s fine. I was just saying that I really wish I was there right now.”
“Oh, yeah,” you reply half-mindedly, looking over the group. “Your family’s really sweet. I feel cared for.”
“You are. How could someone not like ya’?”
“Thanks.” You giggle in reply. You play with the ends of your shirt while talking to him, finding yourself leaning against a wall. Breaking the conversation from the sudden end, you spoke up. “So, when again are you coming back?”
“Real soon. Promise.”
“Would it kill you to be a little bit specific? I’m asking you a-” You stand there, giggling, but the banter stops among the family when two hands cover your field of vision completely.
“Guess who.”
Immediately, you know. From his voice to the callouses on his fingertips to the warmth radiating behind you.
“You’re too old to be saying that.” You spit back, not thinking twice about what you were saying.
You hear a dramatic, exaggerated scoff from behind you as his hands pull themselves away. You turn back but do note how everyone’s eyes are fixed on you and the man behind. Only whispers could be heard—you feel your ears redden.
Despite this, have you ever had the ability to contain yourself around him? You dive straight into him and pull him tight. For the first time in a really long while, he’s here. He’s here, he’s real, and you’re not wasting a single second of it.
“Missed you too.” He mumbles on top of your head. He shifts you two so that his back is faced towards his family. “I’m really sorry that it took so long-”
“Tsk,” you put a finger to his lips, taking a step back with his hands finding their way down your waist. “Uh-uh, it’s my birthday, and I want none of that.”
“Okay, okay,” he sighed, a hand climbing up your spine and finding itself on your cheek as the thumb caressed the edges and crevices of you.
“Thank you.” You put a hand on top of his.
“Of course, birthday love.”
On your tiptoes, you give him a peck on the cheek after he redirects you to his lips, discontented with the first kiss from when he came back being so brief. It only lasts a few seconds, but you know you’re gonna get more later.
You feel a tenderness pool inside of you. There’s something about the way he gazes at you—so full of love, so full of admiration you can’t help but give back—that makes you forget that you’re just feet away from his family.
“About the party,” he cleared his throat, hand finding your lower back as you rejoin the rest of the group. “I was the one who orchestrated it.”
You hear a loud gasp from Tim. “Um, no? I was the one who had the idea.”
“I was actually the one who helped spark that idea?” Steph joined. “I think I deserve at least some credit here.
You find yourself standing in a room, never feeling more loved than now.
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HELLO LOVELY PEOPLE!! this might be too specific of a trope so if it is i’m sorry ab that but do you know of any fics where crowley is cursed or controlled in some way to hurt aziraphale? thanks and have a slay day!!!
Hi! Here are some fics in which Crowley is forced into hurting Aziraphale. Mind the tags and warnings on ALL of these ones, folks!...
Hell's Greatest Punishment by evilwriter37 (E)
Hell possesses Crowley and makes him hurt Aziraphale as a way of punishing him.
F to pay respects (I swear this isn't a crackfic) by satiricalScythe (NR)
In which upon failing to destroy the traitors to Heaven and Hell themselves, Gabriel and Beelzebub realize what they much do - if they can't destroy Aziraphale and Crowley, they'll make them destroy each other. Idk if this really earned the graphic depictions tag, but better safe than sorry. It was originally far more bloody but I cut a lot of parts out to make it work.
The Night Of Time by NuriaSchnee (E)
Aziraphale and Crowley are about to take their relationship to the next level when Gabriel and Michael's wrath falls on them. To punish them, they implant a fake reality into Crowley's memory in which he becomes a proper demon for a while and hurts Aziraphale several times. However, they leave Azirapahale untouched and aware that none of it has been real.
The Uncanny Valley by mozbee (E)
“Oi, Crawley.” He freezes, then turns, because you should never turn your back on a Duke of Hell. He sees the woman leering at him, and kicks himself for not paying attention before, to her blank eyes, the slightly sour smell wafting off her now he’s looking for it. “Have a nice night,” she rasps, and suddenly lifts her hand and blows a palmful of black powder into his face. Crowley coughs and stumbles back, out of the elevator, dropping to the floor, eyes watering. Its gone up his nose, down his throat; he can feel it, cloying and irritating. “What the fuck—” he tries, but suddenly he’s gripped with a new, urgent thought: angel. He pauses, mind perking up at the thought. Angel. He stares up at Hastur, who’s giggling and tossing long blonde hair over his borrowed shoulder. “That’s right, demon: you smell an angel.” “I—” It’s important, this bit about the angel, but it’s harder to put his finger on why. “You smell the angel,” Hastur says, and reaches out, to grip his chin in harsh fingers. “You want to kill the angel, don’t you, Crawley? Don’t you, demon?”
Fire in the Blood by Lurlur (E)
Heaven and Hell are in disarray, Earth is feeling the consequences. Crowley is hit with a lust curse from a rogue incubus which triggers a series of events that he'll never be able to undo. This fic features explicit rape and the aftermath. It is emotionally ugly. Look after yourselves.
Branded by Bookwormgal (M)
The mark on Crowley's face was not a tattoo. When Lucifer, still furious and his pride damaged, took out his frustration out on the first thing to catch his attention after the Fall. Rage, possessiveness, and a need to prove that he was not as weak as he felt when he was cast out spurred him into action. He claimed the broken and fallen creature in every way, relishing the confusion and fear. And he left a piece of his power tangled up in the former angel's essence, the only easily visible sign being a shape manifesting on his eventual corporeal body. But rather quickly, Lucifer found other things to occupy himself and the demon was sent up to Earth to cause some trouble. Six thousand years later and newly-enraged by the betrayal and halted apocalypse, Lucifer finally decides to make use of that power that he left behind. The devil is not one to surrender something that he'd claimed so easily. And the traitor would pay. He would make Crowley suffer.
- Mod D
#good omens#ineffable husbands#adult omens#mind control#major archive warning#graphic depictions of violence#non con#angst#mod d
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WHUMPTOBER 2024: PROMPT #7
Only for emergencies, unconventional weapon, magic with a cost, "It's us or them"
Brief synopsis: Tim has a plan that Bruce can't find out about
Bruce would rather die than kill. It's his ironclad belief and a boundary he seemingly will never cross.
This is why he and Jason scream themselves hoarse or pummel each other on Gotham's rooftops. The younger man claims this is why so many of the Bats have died. Bruce's unwillingness to accept murder by his own hands or those of his children is ultimately their downfall.
This is one of the several reasons why Tim has contingencies Bruce is unaware of. That, and the man's consistent effort to shape Tim’s paranoia even against their family.
During a month-long JL space mission where Batman's presence is necessary, the other Bats stay behind to cover Gotham. Their relationships to each other and Bruce are wobbly, but at a higher point. They even have the occasional hangout and casual interactions.
Tim will initiate individual or small group gatherings, but he's never tried to jam all of the batkids into one room together. Not before this, anyhow.
Due to this reason as well as their current friendliness with each other, all of them agree to meet at Tim's Nest. He prepared a meeting table, chairs, snacks, pizza, drinks, and a projector in his version of the batcave.
He spends three hours lecturing them on several plans that Bruce is never to hear about. He starts off soft with stuff like safehouses, vehicles, and weapons Bruce doesn't know about. He then goes into truth serums, media strategies, and extreme force measures.
He ends the meeting with the one procedure he was nervous about.
“I could have kept this from you. In fact, you should be aware that I have contingencies some or none of you are aware of. Plans I hope to never initiate.”
He sighs as his eyes flicker back to the slide. “This would be the absolute worst case scenario with no other options. I would expect each of us to exhaust all methods before we try this.”
He glances at each of the batkids despondently. “I don’t care if you'd rather sacrifice yourselves. I can't lose you. I won't. Not again.” His eyes linger on Dick, Steph, Cass, Jason, and Damian specifically, but he tries to nonverbally communicate his unwillingness to lose Duke or Barbara either.
The others may not agree or be happy with the plan, but they allow Tim to have it. They accept their role in it as well. Given their work, all they can do is hope the need never arises.
~~~
Of course, the time occurs like they all feared it would.
Their father, Bruce Wayne, stares at his kids with open fear. He can't see a way out of this and he's already envisioning his children dead and dying. The World's Greatest Detective can't find a way out of this.
He would willingly sacrifice his life for his kids, but even that is not an option. His death would afford them mere minutes.
He’s watched all of his children, officially or not, throw themselves at the issue again and again. Each came up with more erratic and desperate plans. All of the plans failed or wouldn't work.
He also notices when each member finally gives up, as they, one by one, turn to Tim. Red frantically shakes his head and types faster, eyes flying over multiple computer screens as he tries to find any other answer.
“Red Robin.”
The vigilante refuses to acknowledge Nightwing. There must be another way. He will not utilize that spell, the one that will obliterate thousands of lives, unless he's absolutely sure there are no other avenues. They are running out of time, but surely there's another way.
“Tim-”
“No! I can find a way. I can!” He's not even looking at Dick as his eyes scour over the multiple computer screens. If he can just figure this out, he will soothe the dejected lines in Dick's face as well.
A hand settles on Tim's shoulder. “We're going to die.”
Finally, Red’s hands pause. He's frozen as the weight of the words and their hidden meaning cause his shoulders to slump in defeat. “Fuck.”
The others in the room refuse to make eye contact as they come to terms with their decision. Bruce's eyes dart between his kids with a puzzled frown. He's analyzing the situation but doesn't have all of the clues.
With the grave expressions on all of his children's faces, he is not expecting Red Robin to pull a pink rubber duck from his belt. Tim approaches Bruce with pressed lips and a guilty gleam to his eyes.
“This will help us stop the invasion.”
Although Batman doesn't move an inch, Tim nods at the man's incredulity.
“It's completely harmless to humans but lethal to their species.”
And now Bruce understands the guilty and hesitant stances around him. Batman can not and will not approve of murder, even to save the ones he loves.
Considering that all of the other Gotham vigilantes have deemed this the only road, Bruce will need to find a non-lethal option by his lonesome. He will need to secure the weapon and fight his way out.
Batman quickly performs a nerve strike on Tim's arm and swoops up the tiny pink duck. Only once it's in his grasp does he realize his mistake.
No one moved to stop him.
Batman's lens covered eyes glare into Red Robin's.
Red's stare bears down on him as Batman's knees give out.
“I'm sorry, Bruce. If I have to choose between the ones I love and an enemy, I will always choose my family. No matter the cost. I don't expect you to forgive me.”
As the sedative drags him under, Bruce falls asleep knowing his kids will be safe covered in the blood of their enemies.
#whumptober 2024#no. 7#unconventional weapon#“It's us or them”#only for emergencies#magic with a cost#tim drake#dc au
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Tyrrish Men Headcanons I made you vote for
Prompt: travel edition
Garrick:
When we getting to the airport: 3 hours ahead, the man is the son of aide of a duke. He is prompt
And yes, he does have a folder of everyone’s passports and flight information
He 100% owns TSA precheck/global entry
Is he holding your bags: Yes. You won’t touch a thing on your journey.
Will drop you off at check in and then go park through car so you don’t have to walk
Where are you sitting? Okay, I know he’s wealthy but are the aides of dukes aristocrats themselves or just well off people? I’m guessing you’ll do economy premium, maybe first class.
Honestly this man is a social butterfly and will just chat with the gate attendants and you’ll be bumped to first class. And yeah, he’s probably sweet talking with all the flight attendants.
Snacks and drinks: will order for you and be polite about it like “you wanted a whisky, right baby?”
He’d probably be that guy to clap when the plane lands. Idk why I just feel it lolol
Bodhi:
When we getting to the airport: maybe 2 hours before you take off.
Let’s be real, Bodhi is easy going by nature and Xaden forced him to be prompt and on top of things due to the revolution
Bodhi probably snoozes his alarm at least 4 times and takes awhile to actually get out of bed. So showing up to the airport early, meh.
Also let’s be real, you’re flying first class so you literally breeze through security and get to hang out in a lounge before take off
This man takes care of you. Literally everything is booked and you just have to show up.
Is he holding your bags: of course. Not only that, he packed all your stuff in his carry on so you could have more room to pack
Will hold your hand the entire way to the gate, on the flight, he’s got you
Where are you sitting: first class bb. Like the fancy fancy first class. You board the plane first and the attendants are like “welcome Mr. Durran.” lol
Snacks and drinks: duh. Champagne. Fancy snacks. Also he packed your favorite snacks in his bag for you.
He’s also checking in on you often, “comfortable, love? Why don’t you take a nap and I’ll wake you up when food gets here.”
An Angel this man is
Also if you’re napping he is 100% gushing to the flight crew about you.
Xaden:
Lolol
When we getting to the airport: whenever the fuck you want
You think this man is flying commercial.
Baby
You are in a car rolling up to the runway to a private jet. Crew waiting for your arrival
Is he holding your bag: nope. But neither are you. He’s got staff to take care of that.
You have the whole private jet to yourselves. You can sit wherever.
Snacks and drinks: your favorite drinks, snacks and foods are on board waiting for you. He’s got it all taken care of.
He will also ask the flight crew to take scenic routes to your destination, avoid paths where it could be bumpy, and basically treat you like the royalty you are
NSFW: Mile high club?? Skies the limit, BB.
His plane. His seats. His woman/man/partner
Also I feel like he’d be the guy to just get up and hop in the pilot seat like, “let me fly my girl to our destination”. And the flight crew is like, 👍🏽
If he had to fly commercial I think he’d be a wreck honestly lol. His trust issues would never
The Marked ones would draw straws/fight over who has to sit next to him lolol
Garrick is like “I usually handle him every day, it’s my vacation too. Bodhi, you get him on the way there and Im, you sit next to him when we go back.”
Liam:
I don’t think this man flies. He’s more of a roadtrip type.
Loves the joy of the journey with you, it’s part of the trip
And that suites you just fine
And he will absolutely drive the whole way unless you want to.
#fourth wing#the empyrean#garrick tavis#bodhi durran#xaden riorson#liam mairi#tyrrish men headcanons you didn't ask for
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Hi! Could you draw death song? It's like one of my favorite dragons.
Also I love your art style, the dragons look super pretty in your style
@gaylightisminetocommand
Thank you guys so much for the compliments aaaa ^^" I'm very happy you're here! This and one other dragon got multiple requests, so I figured I'd do them as one post to save some time.
Dragon #15 - Death Song(s)
Figured since two people asked for them, it's only fair I give you each a dragon :) You two can duke it out between yourselves which dragon belongs to who, haha
(Just kidding, please don't)
#how to train your dragon#httyd#httyd fanart#httyd death song#asks#dragon request#Please don't laugh at me I couldn't figure out if answering multiple asks at once was a thing or not#This works okay shhhhhh#thank you for the request! <3#also don't look TOO close at the wings#They're very janky#dragon 015
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Hello, can I request something with JD with a reader who is visibly too crazy? As well as being too noticeable hahaha. Thank you so much
I made the reader to be the "yandere" one of the two but just to be clear this in no way means that I made JD healthy and/or well adjusted lmao, it's just that the reader is more unhinged than he is
Tw: yandere/dark content, gender neutral reader, the reader is visibly crazier than JD and not very good at hiding it, mentions of shooting someone (with blanks), mentions of threatening someone with a switchblade, swearing, light stalking, allusions to violence/murder
There was talk of the new boy who'd shot two of the biggest assholes at school in the middle of the lunch room without so much as flinching. They were blanks that he used, but still.
Because of this, a lot of people thought he was crazy, but when you looked at him all you could think about was the gorgeous depths of his watercolor eyes. You had to have him, you decided, no matter what anybody else said.
You tried to follow him around so you could see what his deal was, but you weren't very good at being subtle. Not to mention how you stuck out like a sore thumb, owing it to not having a lot of friends. You were certain it was through no fault of your own and that most people just couldn't handle your eccentric nature.
Really it was because you were bat shit crazy, to put it lightly. No one could seem to forget the one time you pulled a switchblade on Heather Duke in study hall because she kept chewing her gum too loud. I mean, you make one mistake and that's all anyone remembers you for. Honestly, the nerve of some people.
So yeah, JD definitely noticed you. Maybe not the same way you noticed him (new kids were usually only on display for a couple of weeks before falling under the radar, so your fixation on him was a lot more abnormal than most) but it was still something.
He seemed to genuinely be interested in you, unlike your fellow students who always seemed to have you in the back of their minds only out of wariness over what kind of stunt you might pull next. Maybe it was because of your crazy, over-the-top nature that he became so interested in you, but it wasn't in the same way you were interested in him.
See, he could go for a few hours without seeing you, but you? No, you had to know where he was at all times. Even if you two weren't really a couple, you thought of yourselves as one. JD would probably agree with that sentiment, he just thought it was funny to see how worked up you would get whenever he referred to you as just a friend.
Of course he was aware that you were always following him around, not wanting him to be out of your sight for even a second. He thought your commitment was cute, even if your skills in the art of subtlety needed some work.
Out of the two for you, he was much better at appearing "normal" and hiding whatever sort of dark tendencies he had beneath the surface; you couldn't do that. He realized that much when you showed up to his house in the middle of the night (in the pouring rain, I might add) covered in blood.
Before he could ask what happened, you threw something down at his feet and announced, "this is for you". It was the spiral bound notebook belonging to some random kid who's homework he asked to copy the day before. He raised an eyebrow as he picked it up, noticing how the front cover had some blood spatter on it.
"Now you won't need to ask to copy their notes anymore." You seemed so proud of yourself, happy even, a stark contrast to your grouchy attitude from earlier that day. He knew you were a little upset with him for giving someone else attention other than you, he just didn't know you'd go so far as to move that person from the equation entirely.
Still, he couldn't find it in himself to be mad. In all honesty, he'd talked to (and even flirted with) them on purpose just to see how far you would go for him, to figure out where your loyalty would lie. He was a bit worried that you only seemed obsessive on the surface and were actually normal underneath it all, so this was a pleasant surprise.
The grin on your face caused him to let out a slight chuckle, tossing the notebook to the side as he approached you. "You're amazing, did you know that?" He took note of the way you beamed with pride and joy, still looking as cute as ever even with someone else's blood all over you. You were a keeper for sure.
As he leaned in to give you a kiss, he smirked at the desperate and eager manner in which you kissed him back, the blood of your victim getting on his face and clothes when you pulled him closer to you. Nothing about this situation seemed at all out of the ordinary to either one of you, despite the somewhat morbid circumstances.
JD had finally found someone who seemed to be just as devoted to him as he was them, which begged the one question he never once thought he'd ever get to ask himself: is this what love felt like?
#thanks so much for the request!! 💕💕#i ended up rewriting the first few paragraphs because i didnt like it 😣 so i hope the end result is okay lolol#heathers#heathers imagine#heathers fic#heathers x reader#yandere heathers#dark heathers#jason dean#jason dean imagine#jason dean fic#jason dean x reader#jd heathers#heathers jd#jd imagine#jd fic#jd x reader#yandere fic#dark fic#yandere x darling#yandere reader#jason dean x yandere reader
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wish upon a star.
wriothesley x reader because of his duties as duke, wriothesley doesn’t leave the fortress of meropide often but when he does, he spends the day with you.
masterlist
on a moonlit night, you and wriothesley found yourselves perched atop a cliff overlooking the nature of fontaine. the night sky was ablaze with stars, and the gentle breeze carried the sweet scent of blooming flowers. with every whispered word, your connection deepened, and stories of dreams and aspirations spilled into the open air.
“it’s not everyday i get the opportunity to leave the fortress,” wriothesley admitted, his eyes fixed on the starlit horizon. his voice, usually firm and steady within the forrest’s walls, now held a touch of vulnerability, revealing a side of him that few had the privilege to witness. “the responsibilities of my job keep me confined, but tonight, under this celestial tapestry, i find myself truly free.”
his words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of his unspoken desires. you reached out, fingers tracing the outline of his hand, offering a silent reassurance. “tonight, you are more than the duke of meropide, more than the responsibilities that bind you,” you said, your voice carrying the warmth of understanding. “under this vast sky, you are simply wriothesley, a man with dreams and hopes, just like anyone else.”
he turned his gaze to you, his eyes softened by the moon's gentle glow. in that moment, it wasn’t the duke of the fortress of meropide who looked at you, but a man longing to break free from the chains of duty, if only for a night. his voice, like a soft melody, wrapped around your heart. “do you see that star?" he asked, his voice a low, soothing rumble. "they say shooting stars are the universe's way of granting wishes."
you followed his gaze, own eyes drawn to the vast expanse of the night sky. "what would you wish for?" you inquired, voice barely louder than the rustle of leaves in the wind.
wriothesley smiled, a gentle curve of his lips that held a universe of affection. "in this moment, i have everything i desire," he replied, his words painting the night with warmth. "but if i were to wish, i’d wish for an eternity of nights like this, with you by my side. each star is a promise, and with you, my love, i find the entire galaxy in your eyes."
your heart swelled with emotion, the intensity of his words reaching deep into your soul. you reached out, your fingers entwining with his, feeling the reassuring strength of his hand. "i couldn’t agree more," you whispered, your words a promise in the quiet of the night, your breath becoming one with the wind.
#wriothesley#wriothesley x reader#x reader#genshin impact#genshin#genshin impact x reader#genshin imagines#wriothesley genshin
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How to Fall in Love in Ten Days
*New Series*
18+ Series
A/n: The people have spoken!! Here’s day 2. 🥰 Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist!
Content Warnings: A bit of arguing but that’s all!
Word Count: 5.1k
Day Two: The Dinner
The soft murmur of whispers roused you from your heavy slumber. You lay still, feigning sleep, to discern what was being said.
"What do you think could’ve happened?" one voice asked in hushed tones.
"Maybe the Duke and the Duchess got a bit carried away last night," another giggled.
"Well, I think she threw it at his head. Can’t blame her if she did," a third voice interjected.
You recalled then the shattered remnants of the porcelain vase you had hurled at the door the previous night. Your lady’s maids must have discovered the fragments upon entering to dress you for the morning. You could hardly fault them for their curiosity; you would likely have felt the same in their position.
"That’s enough gossiping, you three," Roslyn’s authoritative voice joined the chorus, instantly silencing the others. "Mildred, go fetch someone to clean up this mess," she commanded, the sound of light footsteps hurrying out of the room following her words. "And as for the two of you, straighten up. We must remain professional for the new lady of the house. Keep all your wonderings to yourselves."
At that moment, you decided to rouse yourself, saving your remaining maids from further mortification. You stretched languidly and let your eyes flutter open, as though just emerging from sleep.
Roslyn smiled at you pleasantly, masking the stern reprimand she had issued to the maids moments ago.
"Good morning, Your Grace. How was your rest?"
You caught one of your lady’s maids casting a furtive glance at the broken vase on the floor before she quickly resumed her duties.
"I slept well," you replied with a tired grin, though it was a falsehood. The majority of the night had been spent tossing and turning, your mind riddled with turmoil and an unsatisfied yearning. "Thank you for asking."
"Breakfast is being prepared. Shall we ready you for the day so that you may join His Grace in the breakfast parlor?"
The mere mention of Daniel elicited a flicker of an expression on your face—an echo of the confusing emotions that had filled your chamber the previous night. Though you swiftly concealed it, you knew Roslyn had noticed.
Throwing back the thick comforter, you nodded to the women awaiting your command. "Let us proceed," you declared with a semblance of resolve.
Preparations took considerably less time than you had anticipated, leaving you somewhat crestfallen. You had Roslyn pin and unpin your hair thrice, feigning dissatisfaction with each arrangement. In truth, the style had been impeccable from the first, but you were merely stalling, reluctant to face the Duke after the night’s disconcerting events—or rather, the night that had failed to transpire.
Roslyn, ever perceptive, understood your ploy. Her skill in coiffure was beyond reproach, and she knew it. Yet, she indulged your delaying tactics with patience.
When you could delay no longer, you descended to the breakfast parlor, where Daniel had already commenced his meal. He was engrossed in a newspaper, which you suspected was not so pressing as to warrant his attention at breakfast.
The staff of Sterling House were stationed about the room, dutiful as ever. Among them stood Sebastian, who, despite his welcoming demeanor, you knew was awaiting an opportunity to discuss pressing matters.
"Good morning, your Grace," he greeted, prompting Daniel to glance up briefly from his paper in your direction.
Daniel’s gaze was heavy and fleeting, his attention swiftly returning to his reading material.
A servant assisted you into your chair, and another emerged from the kitchen to present your plate. The atmosphere was thick with unspoken tension, each movement in the room accentuating the silence that loomed between you and the Duke.
When Sebastian perceived the silent chasm between you and Daniel, he cleared his throat and proceeded, somewhat awkwardly.
“Now that both your Graces are present, there are a few matters I should like to discuss regarding your forthcoming schedule as newlyweds.”
Newlyweds. The word evoked images of blissful beginnings, yet it felt hollow and mockingly incongruous with the reality of your union.
“As you are both undoubtedly aware,” Sebastian continued, “these initial days of your marriage are designated as your honeymoon. We shall still honor this period of repose. However, it is imperative that we also begin to reintegrate the Duke into society, not merely as a name, but as a visible presence.”
Daniel’s eyes rolled subtly at the mention of the honeymoon, a gesture that did not escape your notice. You bit your tongue, refraining from voicing the retort that hovered on the tip of it, and instead, you picked up your fork, methodically beginning your meal in silence.
"As for today, we have left your schedules free to fill with whatever activities you please. However, on the morrow, the two of you are to visit the Duchy, where the Duchess shall acquaint herself with the land, and the villagers may have the pleasure of meeting their new mistress. The following day, you are both expected to attend Lord and Lady Billingly’s annual end-of-spring ball, held in your honor this year."
Sebastian continued his discourse, much of which you found difficult to follow. Every so often, Daniel would steal glances at you across the modestly sized table. Though you did not always catch his eye, you could invariably feel the weight of his gaze.
His stare elicited a physical response within you, prompting you to shift in your seat when it became overwhelming. Resisting the urge to meet his eyes was a considerable effort.
Daniel was impeccably dressed and groomed, reminding you of how striking he had appeared in your chambers the previous night, stirring those same tumultuous feelings within you.
When your gazes finally met, it was clear he too was reflecting on the previous evening, though it was difficult to discern which particulars occupied his thoughts.
You averted your eyes, casting them down to your plate as you endeavored to finish your meal.
"And finally, the ball to be held here at Sterling House a week hence. This will be your final public display of true companionship before you resume your many duties as Duke and Duchess."
Sebastian glanced between you and Daniel, noting the palpable tension that lingered still.
"Any questions?"
Daniel's chair scraped loudly against the floor as he rose from the table, wiping his mouth with a napkin before seizing his paper.
"No questions. Thank you, Sebastian," he answered for both of you, his tone cordial yet clipped. "Should you need me, I shall be in my study."
He made his exit, the eyes of everyone in the room, including your own, following his departure. A toxic silence filled the room again, laden with concealed looks of confusion and curiosity. A few even appeared to pity you.
Roslyn, who had been quietly occupied across the room, approached you with a gentle air, offering a sense of rescue.
"Your Grace," she spoke softly, "once you have finished your meal, I thought it best to give you an official tour of Sterling House and its grounds."
When you had envisioned this tour, you had imagined your new husband by your side, sharing the stories and memories the home held from his own perspective.
Part of you still wished this were true. You desired Daniel’s company, hoping for an opportunity to be near him longer. But another, stronger, resolute part of you was relieved that you need not share his space or gaze upon him, no matter how handsome he was. You did not think you could endure any more of his attitude without revealing a side of yourself better kept hidden.
"That sounds lovely, Roslyn," you agreed, "I should like that very much."
Sebastian, who had been eyeing you cautiously, offered a courteous nod, though his expression bore a worry that you could tell was on your behalf.
He exited the room in the direction Daniel had taken, leaving you to finish the remainder of your meal in an uncomfortable silence.
Roslyn conducted the tour with meticulous care, guiding you through Sterling House with an abundance of information and stories at every turn.
First, the Drawing Room, where Daniel's parents had once hosted gatherings for their intimate circle with nearly weekly regularity. It had been fifteen years since such lively assemblies had filled the space.
Next, the Parlor, adorned by Daniel’s late mother and preserved precisely as she had arranged it. You entertained the hope that, one day, you might retreat there with your own friends, seeking refuge from the Duke’s company.
The Library followed, an expansive repository of knowledge that far surpassed the collection at your former home. Here, you lingered, browsing the myriad titles and mentally cataloging which books you would devour first, anticipating ample leisure time.
“Does the Duke ever read any of these?” you mused aloud, letting your fingers glide over the spines of the volumes.
“He was once an avid reader,” Roslyn replied with a soft chuckle. “Nowadays, his reading is confined mostly to ledgers and correspondence. Yet, there are nights when I notice light seeping from beneath the door late into the evening, suggesting that his inquisitive nature remains.”
You tried to envision the Duke, ensconced in one of the plush velvet chairs near the fireplace on a cold night, absorbed in tales of fiction and adventure. The image seemed almost incongruous, a man like him indulging in anything other than his relentless work.
Next was the music room, where an extensive collection of various instruments adorned the perimeter. The large grand piano immediately caught your eye.
“Do you play?” Roslyn inquired, her tone gentle.
“I haven’t in years,” you replied with a touch of melancholy. “Not since my father passed. He was the one who enjoyed my playing the most.”
Roslyn offered a sympathetic look, keenly aware that this was not the moment to delve deeper into such personal sorrow.
“His Grace has quite the knack for music as well. He has mastered nearly every instrument in this room, though he too hasn't touched any of them in some time.”
You found it difficult to picture, yet the thought was intriguing. How you wished in vain that he might display his musical talents for you one day.
Roslyn then led you through the ballroom, now devoid of the large crowd from your wedding. Standing at its center, you looked up towards the high ceilings, feeling a sense of smallness at its heart.
Next were the many bedrooms. One, with grand doors, she identified as Daniel’s. She did not take you inside, leaving you to conjure daydreams of its interior. You imagined the Duke wandering through it, dressed in attire meant only for his private moments.
You thought of him lying in his large bed, perhaps wearing even less...
Quickly, you withdrew from such fantasies before your mind could wander too far. Clearing your throat, you smiled at Roslyn. “Shall we continue?”
Down the hall, you paused by another set of double doors.
"His Grace's study," Roslyn whispered, careful not to disturb him. "Inside, it can expand into a much larger office for holding meetings."
You nodded, hesitant to speak lest he hear you lurking in the corridor.
"You probably won’t spend much time there," Roslyn continued, "you have your own private study for when you officially assume your duties as Duchess." She gestured further down the expansive hallway. "Let me show it to you."
From the study, you proceeded to the gentleman's room, designated for Daniel's gatherings with other men of rank, though Roslyn noted it was seldom used. That revelation did not surprise you.
Next, she led you through the servants' quarters, the kitchen, the gallery filled with dozens of one-of-a-kind pieces, the wine cellar stocked to the brim, and finally to the conservatory, where an array of plants stretched in every direction.
"The late Duchess adored having tea in here," Roslyn remarked. The allure was unmistakable, and you could easily envision partaking in that ritual one day.
At last, the interior tour concluded, and Roslyn escorted you out of the conservatory into the courtyard that led to the garden.
You had eagerly anticipated this part of the tour all morning, and it did not disappoint.
Beautiful was an understatement. The multitude of flora and greenery left you in awe. While you had greatly admired your garden back home, the grandeur of the Sterling House garden far surpassed it.
“His Grace takes great pride in this garden, employing gardeners year-round to ensure it meets his exacting standards.”
You wandered through the garden, taking in each unique flower and noting the meticulous care evident in every detail. Roslyn trailed behind, allowing you to explore at your leisure while she herself enjoyed a rare moment of quiet appreciation.
As you turned a corner, an opening revealed a large window leading to Daniel’s study. The curtains were drawn, offering you an unobstructed view of Daniel at his desk, a focused frown etched onto his face as his quill moved swiftly across the paper.
You watched him for a while, lost in thought, until you felt Roslyn’s presence beside you.
“Hard at work, I suppose?” Her tone was light, almost teasing, as she too glanced at the Duke.
“Is he always this way?” you asked, eyes still fixed on him.
“In what way, miss?” Roslyn’s feigned ignorance was transparent, yet she maintained her professional demeanor.
“So rigid. So brooding.”
Roslyn smiled, a hint of sadness in her expression. She took a moment before responding, and you listened intently.
“I have had the pleasure of serving His Grace since he was a mere babe in swaddle cloth,” she began with a soft chuckle. “He was a happy child—curious, a bit silly at times. But all of that seemed to fade once he took on the title. It was a tremendous responsibility for one so young, and on top of that, he was newly orphaned and alone. Yes, he had Sebastian and me, along with the rest of his staff, but no matter how long we’ve known him, we are still just that—his staff. Nothing more.”
For the first time, you felt a pang of sadness for the Duke. You had never considered his past in such a light, yet it still did not explain why he treated you so coldly now.
“I say all of this to impart,” she continued, “His Grace is unaccustomed to companionship. This is all very new to him. There has been no one else in this house other than us for fifteen years, and such solitude can be quite an adjustment. Those fifteen years have been filled with nothing but work; it is all he knows now. It is difficult to break such ingrained habits and learn to enjoy life again. But, miss,” she caught your attention, and you finally broke your gaze from the window to look at her, “please do not give up on him. He has chosen a wonderful bride without even realizing it. I’d hate for him to miss out on the joy I know you could bring to his life because you both gave up before giving this marriage a fighting chance.”
You both looked back at the window. “In time, I believe the walls he has built around himself will crumble, and we shall see the return of the boy we once knew.”
At that moment, Daniel glanced outside. Seeing you and Roslyn watching him, his frown deepened. He rose from his desk and marched to the window, snatching the curtains shut and leaving you both in the dark.
You could only roll your eyes. Roslyn’s hopeful words seemed like mere wishful thinking. If that wall were ever to crumble, it certainly wouldn’t be today.
Feigning indifference to Daniel’s brusque action, you turned to Roslyn with a smile. “I think I’d like to visit the library again.”
You spent the remainder of your afternoon in the library, perusing the stack of books you had collected. Though the atmosphere was quiet and comfortable, a restlessness lingered within you.
Periodically, you glanced toward the door, hoping against hope that Daniel might appear. It maddened you how conflicted your feelings were towards him. On one hand, you could scarcely tolerate your new husband. His presence was a constant source of irritation; each interaction with him had proven futile, his loathsome attitude only kindling your anger.
Yet, you could not deny the attraction. Perhaps it was the enigma that surrounded him—the not knowing. Beyond the bare facts of his title and the burden of his duties from a young age after being orphaned, you knew nothing of him. And he, nothing of you.
Perhaps, if he were to finally let his guard down, you might glimpse a husband worth your patience. Or, perhaps, you would confirm that he is indeed as cold as he portrays himself to be. At least then, you would know how to proceed.
However, such revelations would remain elusive if he continued to ignore your presence and barely speak a word to you.
And then, there was the matter of the previous night. You could still feel the trace of his fingers across your skin, the intensity in his eyes as he beheld you in your nightgown. The memory of it caused you to shift uncomfortably in your seat, your attempts to focus on your book proving futile.
You wondered if, had things unfolded as they were meant to that night, the present might be different. Yet, you were glad you had resisted. If he intended to play games, then so would you.
It did not occur to you how long you had been nestled away in the library until the door creaked open behind you.
You turned swiftly, half expecting to be met by the dashing visage of the Duke. But when Roslyn appeared in the doorway, your shoulders slouched in disappointment. Roslyn noticed but chose to remain silent.
“The cooks are almost done preparing dinner, your Grace. Shall we get you freshened up?”
You managed a smile before setting aside the book you had been engrossed in. “Yes, I was just beginning to feel hungry.”
Roslyn admired your resolve. It was one of the many qualities she saw in you that made you the perfect wife for the Duke and an exemplary Duchess.
She ushered you upstairs to your chambers, where the maids from earlier were already waiting to attend to their duties.
Thirty minutes later, Roslyn escorted you back down to the dining room. It was lit solely by candlelight, and the expansive dining table was ornately decorated, as if for a special occasion, though you knew this was not the Duke’s doing.
The staff were stationed around the room as usual, and Daniel, of course, was already seated at the far end of the table, partaking in his meal.
You paused at the threshold, observing the way the candlelight danced across his features. Yet, it did not evoke the feelings you had anticipated.
Instead, you were perturbed by his refusal to wait for your presence before commencing his meal. It was another slight, another affront. And still, he refused to acknowledge your arrival, not even granting you a cursory glance.
Determined not to enter meekly as you had at breakfast, you made sure that the sound of your heels on the floor was pronounced as you walked to your seat. Yet, he did not look up.
One of the men approached to assist you into your chair, but you stopped him, pulling out your own chair and seating yourself with a pointed flourish.
A few eyes in the room shifted, but no one dared comment on the scene unfolding before them.
Daniel’s own presence was marked solely by the faint scrape of utensils against his plate. His gaze resolutely avoided yours, fixed intently on anything but you, as he consumed his meal with an unnecessary haste.
You gave your own plate a once over.
Duck. You detested duck, truly loathed it.
But, of course, that was the least of Daniel’s concerns. He hadn’t even taken the time to discern your preferences. And this, was the final straw.
“I’m sorry,” you laughed, though there was no mirth in it, “but this is utterly ridiculous.”
The Duke’s eyes flicked up, instantly annoyed, but you couldn’t have cared less. His gaze was cold, his jaw clenched, and the light tapping of his foot reverberated through the icy room.
“What, pray tell, is it you’re referring to?”
You scowled at him. “It is you I am referring to,” you spat, “behaving like a petulant child.”
“I beg your pardon?” His attention was finally yours, albeit for all the wrong reasons. You pressed on, using his irritation to fuel your own resolve.
“Are we truly to spend the rest of our days like this? You hiding away in your office all day, ignoring me at every meal, acknowledging my presence solely when the matter of an heir arises? Surely, that cannot be the entirety of this marriage.”
The Duke let his fork fall to the table with a clatter that made everyone in the room start.
“For heaven’s sake, what more do you require of me?” His voice thundered in the room, “I have made you a duchess, placed you in the grandest house in the land, provided you with the finest staff, and ensured that your every whim is catered to. What else could you possibly desire?”
Your voice rose as you retorted, “do you truly believe that is all it takes for a happy marriage?”
“For a content one, yes!”
Your ire grew with each passing moment, and you stood abruptly from the table. “This cannot be what contentment looks like to you, Daniel.”
Matching your movement, Daniel rose as well, his chair crashing to the ground with a resounding thud.
“I have endured this existence for over fifteen years, while you were lost in the dreams of girlhood, weaving fantasies of love.”
“Oh, and so you deem it your right to shatter those dreams and drag me into your wretched world of loneliness?”
Daniel fell silent, his retort dying on his lips. You knew you had bested him in this exchange, yet the victory brought you no solace, your heart too heavy with sorrow.
Tears brimming in your eyes, you turned to exit the dining hall, leaving your untouched meal behind, your footsteps echoing in the oppressive silence. All you desired was to put as much distance between you and Daniel as possible.
But before you could make your exit, you turned back to him with a venomous stare, “And if you had taken the time to consider anything about me, your wife, you’d know that I find duck repulsive. But quite frankly, not as repulsive as I find you in this moment.”
Daniel stared in the direction you had fled, your words haunting him. His gaze fell upon your untouched plate, and his frustration reignited.
“Dinner is over. Clean this, please,” he commanded to the staff, his voice tinged with a bitterness he could not shake. Turning, he retreated in the opposite direction, seeking to widen the chasm between you both.
One of the maids from earlier, who had the misfortune of passing through the dining room at the moment of the outburst, paused beside Roslyn before proceeding to the kitchen. "I told you, she hurled the vase at his head," she whispered.
Daniel remained ensconced in his office as the grand clock struck midnight, diligently attending to his work. In truth, the task could have awaited the morrow, but the Duke found himself unusually productive when fueled by anger. Since your union, he had ample fury to sustain his labors.
He could not fathom why you had such a profound effect on him, how you could evoke such intense emotions, but he resented it. It was the reason he endeavored to spend so much time away from you. He was unaccustomed to anyone being so close, even if he kept you at arm's length.
When he decided to take a wife, he had expected it to be a matter akin to any other business transaction, especially given his motivations. Yet, he quickly realized he had underestimated the complexity of the arrangement. He had assumed that providing a life of luxury would suffice, but he was mistaken.
Least of all had he anticipated a wife so strong-willed, slightly ill-tempered, yet devastatingly beautiful. Your presence was disconcerting, compounding the difficulty of adjusting to companionship.
Throughout the day, his mind was plagued by visions of you in your bedchamber, a haunting reminder of the desires he had not fulfilled before things had soured further.
Now you found him repulsive; those were your own words. Yet, his hardened spirit refused to let those words alter his approach. He resolved to carry on with business as usual, with or without your cooperation.
There came a knock at his door then, and Daniel half-expected you to enter, perhaps with an apology for your outburst at dinner, though he knew that was unlikely.
Instead, it was Sebastian who entered quietly, lingering by the door after shutting it behind him.
“Sebastian,” the Duke called out without looking up from his work, “if you are here to deliver a lecture on my deficiencies as a husband, I assure you I am not inclined to hear it.”
“Oh no, Your Grace, it is not my place to comment on the sort of husband you are.”
Daniel waited, knowing that more words would surely follow.
“It is just that... you do realize that when the decision was made for you to marry, it was not merely to mend your societal image, but also to afford you the opportunity to begin anew as a man.”
Daniel sighed in frustration, running a hand through his hair. He would have preferred a reprimand about his inadequacies as a husband.
“And why, pray tell, would I need to start anew, Sebastian?” Daniel purposely avoided the obvious point his private secretary was making. “I have been perfectly fine thus far; I see no need for change.”
Sebastian, accustomed to such discourse with the Duke, was undeterred by his abrasiveness.
“Your work has consumed you these past years, stealing much of your happiness. But sir, you have a chance at genuine, true happiness within your grasp. Yet it seems you are intent on sabotaging it. It appears you would rather condemn both her and yourself to a lifetime of dissatisfaction than step out of your comfort zone to ensure the success of your union.” Sebastian’s tone was firm but respectful, his words coming from a place of genuine concern.
“It is not that, Sebastian,” Daniel retorted in frustration, “it is just... I do not know her.”
Sebastian folded his hands in front of him and nodded, “Exactly, Your Grace. You do not know her. And you may never get the chance to know her if you continue on this path.”
"She is nothing but a distraction, Sebastian. A distraction from the work I have endeavored tirelessly to master. I cannot simply alter all that I have established over the years merely because she finds herself dissatisfied with our arrangement."
Silence enveloped the room as Sebastian allowed Daniel's words to settle in the air, giving him a moment for reflection.
"Well, if that is how you truly feel, then there is little I can do to sway you. I only implore you to consider the essence of what I have said tonight." With that, Sebastian turned to make his silent exit. Once he was gone, the Duke finally relaxed in his chair, though not without a sense of lingering unease.
He pondered deeply, his thoughts churning like a tempest. Yet, the more he ruminated, the more confusion clouded his mind. Attempting to resume his work proved futile, his focus shattered. Noticing the hour had crept far past midnight, he decided to call it a night and retire to his chambers.
As he extinguished the lights scattered about his office, he made his way to the third level. Passing by your bedroom, he saw light spilling from beneath the door, casting a soft glow into the hallway. The illumination signaled to him that you were still awake.
He hesitated, his hand hovering near the door, deliberating whether to knock. If you answered, he was uncertain of what he would say, what he would do. The prospect of a confrontation, of further complicating the tenuous peace, weighed heavily upon him.
For several moments, his fist lingered in mid-air before he willed himself to withdraw. He reasoned that you would not wish to be disturbed at such a late hour, least of all by the man who had become the source of your anguish. Though causing you distress was never his intention, he knew any assurances he offered would likely fall on deaf ears.
The Duke had already dug himself into a profound chasm with you, and he feared it might indeed be too late to extricate himself from it.
Taglist: @jakekiszkashangnail08 @freyjalw @josh-iamyour-mama
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