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takes1 · 18 days ago

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ah, hello kuroken anon again here!!! :> I LOVED LOVED LOOVEDDDD THE PART 2 HAHAGWGSH SOO EXCITED TO SEE HOW IT’LL END!!!! AND MASTERMIND KENMA??? YOU. GET. IT. YOUUU FUCKING GET ITTTT. IM SO CRAZY THATS LITERALLY HOW I THINK HE’D BE IN BED AJAKSIFIRKRJ. thats the team’s brain right there!!!! cant wait to reread this story over and over <3333

thank you again for sparing some time to write even when youre busy with your education, i’m also busy with my education related stuff so you posting your writing at this time is really helping me to keep me going 🫶 good luck to u!!! ^^

[final] kenma sharing you with kuroo

you're a gem and i will sorely miss hearing from you after this part is posted. fuuuuck you made me cry a lil bit 🤏not even kidding omg. i'm genuinely so glad the characterization got through 😫💕and that i could help you in any capacity loves.

warnings. heavy nsfw, minors DNI

details. fem!reader / porn with plot / threesome / angst, fluff, and smut / jealous?kuroo / secure!kenma / submissive(with conditions)!reader / praisewhore!reader / use of toys / m!rec oral / riding / kuroo working through his emotions / mastermind!kenma / poly!conversations / happy!cuck'd kenma / fluid pecking order / 3k words

links. my masterlist. more haikyuu. my ao3. part one here. part two.

"Good," A little drive-by peck to your temple and Kenma was off the bed, grabbing some water.

"I need a break."

Kuroo filled the space he left verbally and physically-- a starved scan of your body, trembling already, on top of him. His head swiveled from you to Kenma's cute butt. He couldn't keep his hand off of his own cock to save his life, so it didn't surprise you that he stroked himself and checked your boyfriend out at the same time. If you had one, you'd do the same.

"You lazy fuckin' bastard..."

They shared a laugh.

He let the chuckle die for a second, more of a yearning as he looked at you again, "You sure it's alright with you, man?"

You realized you couldn't stop your hands from shaking. You really wanted him.

You both looked at Kenma, who put his hands up, more annoyed that the question kept cropping up, "Promise. I'm fine, I just got- kinda close."

You were brimming with pride at that truthful statement, hips automatically rolled against Kuroo's cock. He could play the role well, but it wasn't natural. Neither was his pace or his intensity, so it made sense that he was forced to sacrifice his already shitty stamina.

Kenma liked slow, smother-y, whiny, missionary stuff that went on for a couple rounds and ended in you both passed out in your own slippery mess. This was all a little pornographic, performative, for a neutral observer.

"F-uck," He groaned, face tense at how well you took him.

He couldn't believe neither of you made him wear a condom. He never fucked raw, and never imagined he would have the chance to get with you. This was too perfect.

Kuroo was on the thicker side, and leaned hard to the left. Two features you weren't accustomed to, but instantly learned to love. He stretched your cunt out so easy- leaving you at a shallow gasp, as he wasted no time to show you how much he had been craving you over the past year.

That pretty, occupied, shock was exactly what he wanted to see.

He grinned, a possessive grip around your throat, "That's what you wanted, huh?"

His lip curled, twitched. He bottomed out and rolled his hips the way Kenma had, earlier.

"You wanted me?"

You squeaked at his premature intensity- nails digging into his shoulders. He squeezed you to prompt an answer.

A whimpery, "Yeah."

Kuroo was different when he let himself talk to you like this, like it was just you two. It felt like he was finally being honest.

It was apparent that he wanted you close, intimately so, and not posed up for Kenma. He was still sipping his water, watching, as if he was hanging out on the bench during a game.

Kuroo fucked you slower, nicer, after he hearing your pitiful sob of an answer.

His thumb rubbed slow, a nearly imperceivable circle in your hip, as he searched your eyes.

"Why didn't ya tell me?" Was so quiet. It made your heart squeeze.

He felt too good, pumping in and out of you so easy, filling you over and over again like it was nothing.

His voice was ever softer, as you were rewiring your brain to make room for a singular thought.

"You hear me, pretty girl?"

You softened at his endless list of nicknames for you- all so methodical and sweet, like he had always thought of you as his baby, his doll, his pretty girl.

"Mhm," Got muffled against his fervent kisses.

It would have to go unanswered. You realized at some point you didn't have a satisfying response for him; even if you did before, you couldn't do his questions any justice, now.

He was like Kenma when he got close. He grew huffy, and leagues worse at kissing. His little taunts were incomprehensible, but the nature of his mumbly, dirty words was enough to get you close and considering the possibility of a future arrangement here.

The idea had you pushing out of his weakened grip, looking towards Kenma. Adoration had filled his features even before he caught you looking at him, evidence that he had nothing to hide.

He came closer to kiss you.

Kuroo allowed you to you lean close to Kenma's ear, amused when you covered your whisper up with your palm, so he had no chance of hearing.

"Let me suck you off again," Was your request.

Kenma stepped back, face too hesitant for your liking. He shook his head, undecided, with a long and quiet hum.

"Please," Your hand fell from his shoulder as he stroked himself, just to see if he could last for it.

You had to beg a few more times, real sweet, real pretty, for him to decide that finishing first wasn't all so bad. It clearly wasn't an original part of his plan, but he couldn't tell you no; not with you all fucked out, waiting for more, on top of his best friend.

"Ohh my god," Kuroo groaned, forcing you still, as he pieced together why Kenma climbed back up, on his knees, at his side.

Your dirty little smile only broke to press a kiss to the tip of Kenma's cock.

"Oh my g-od..." He repeated himself, voice breaking this time.

It was easier from this position, than the one you had been in earlier- the whole reason any of this was playing out now.

The way your tongue stretched out, the hollow in your cheeks, how fucking easy you made it look, and most of all, your pretty little stare up at him was all too perfect. Kuroo didn't blush often, but this was a true surprise, and a moment worthy of the red on his face, now.

He wasn't going to last long, from the start, but this was overload. You had gotten comfortable with him long before he was ever in the picture- knowing exactly how Kenma liked it, what got him closest, the fastest. He didn't make the connection before now, but that's what Kenma had shown earlier, too.

Kenma was huffy, a bit higher in tone, "She got me off the game- ah-h, like-- this,"

One hand was still, twitchy, at his side- one kept your hair back, but didn't control you. His abs flexed, uneven.

"Fuckin' knew it," Kuroo gave a tired, very distracted chuckle.

His shoulders would stoop hard to the side with a big, struggled sigh when you'd take him deeper. You brought out a more submissive side of Kenma. It was a welcome sight.

Kuroo had to let you go to rub the ache from his temples. In the absence of his hands, you rolled your hips. You didn't want to just be a cock warmer-- you wanted him to fuck you. So far, Kenma had been rougher, and that didn't meet your expectations at all.

He seethed, and kept you still again with a shuddery sound, "Don't- don't move."

You came back up, popping Kenma out of your mouth, stroking him quickly as you gave Kuroo a mean stare.

"Relaaax, babygirl, I just need a second--,"

You frowned. So they both couldn't last? You took your frustration out on Kenma- twitching, gasping, at your lubed palm making an embarrassingly quick work of his endurance. He was really cute when he was about to cum.

"Babe- fuck- I'm-- I-h- Ah!," He stuttered, his panting growing quicker, the tension across his body now locked.

He let you to decide what you wanted. You could feel him tense as you kept your tongue laid flat, swirled in little circles on the underside of the tip, as you pumped the rest of his length.

"Mm-h, fuc-k--"

"Aah, ah-hh-!"

Kuroo had to scratch little divots into his palm to keep himself sobered enough. He watched along in awe as you swallowed, hardly any labor on your brow. You looked at him the whole time, this impossible innocence in your steady gaze.

Kenma was a work of art, his mouth parted, lips wet with drool, his brow tense at how you kept sucking at his sensitive tip. He adored you. There was no hope for Kuroo to replace that, going either way.

"Oka-y, okay," Kenma pulled you off with a shuddery sigh.

He muttered, "I love you s'much," against your scalp as you licked your fingers clean. After stealing a kiss, he sat back on his heels, a hand rested on Kuroo's shoulder.

There was a sorry lack of quips from him. He wasn't being a smartass anymore, or even funny. He was acting a little dull, like Kenma after a couple rounds. You tilted your head down at him, analyzing what the hell happened.

He returned it, his intense, deep eyes cutting right through you.

You softened your expression. Maybe he was still in there.

"He won't move," You pouted to Kenma, as if he could possibly do something about it.

He covered his snicker with his hand- Kuroo rolled his eyes but got cut short when you tried to move your hips up and back down. His nails dug so hard into you that you gave a small whimper- trying to pry his hands away, unsuccessfully.

"If she doesn't stop doing that, I'm gonna fuckin' cum," In a similar fashion to you, he looked at Kenma, like he could fix it, "I'm so serious, bro- it's not even funny."

Kenma gave a loaded sigh. He did look like he was thinking for a solution.

Kuroo had your face in his big hand, warning you, to be still. You liked the sound of him cumming inside you, and how he was barely holding himself together, so you only met his harshness with a small, maniacal smile.

After rifling through the sheets, Kenma found your favorite vibrator and wiggled it with pride in front of Kuroo. He didn't disappoint; he truly had a solution for everything.

"Dunno how I forgot about this," He muttered, clicking through the settings to the only one you actually used.

As he took the time to do this, you clocked that he was still half-hard, even after two orgasms, and felt some butterflies in your tummy. He glanced your bodies over with a little smirk.

He kissed right behind your ear, "Let's try leveling the playing field, yeah?"

It was easy to act all big and bad when they were both closer than you. Once they had you on your back, completely honed in on just your body, your short-lived confidence was shaken.

In a similar, reverse fashion, Kuroo was back to his original state: an irritating tease.

He was eager to listen to and watch Kenma as he cuddled up to your side.

"We usually don't go for this long-," He admitted, making him smirk.

He took one leg hostage to spread you before pressing your vibrator up to your clit.

"A-hh-ah-!" You twitched, under all the sudden pleasure.

"But you're getting spoiled today, huh?" Your partner chuckled, a little kiss to your temple.

This may have been one of the few times Kuroo didn't keep his cock in his hand. The whole point was to get him further away from a climax, after all.

He used that effort to take your opposite side, in an almost identical orientation as Kenma. Your other leg was relieved of its fatigue once Kuroo wouldn't let it go.

If he focused too hard at the delicious tension in your face, or the way Kenma had to keep you forcefully still, he had to look away for twice as long with a big, calming sigh.

"She is such a pretty thing," He muttered, during one of these moments.

"Sooo pretty," Kenma agreed. He watched Kuroo's affliction, how it seemed more than just physical.

Another little peck to your sweaty temple, as you squirmed and flexed, panting, under their weight and pulling, "You should tell Kuro how much you want him."

They couldn't let you rest. It was psychological torture paired with the most a dizzying turn of events you hadn't prepared for.

It was, all things considered, a simple task.

A fluttery sigh- then a short, pitiful whine at how Kenma was making it hard again-

"I think- ah! I-i... I've 'ad a-... crush- on you-- Mh!"

Your pushing against his forearm became compromised as Kuroo laced his fingers through yours, pulling your hand to his lips. He listened closely.

That little tension around his eyes seemed to melt, his smirk becoming more of a smile. It was partially amusement at how difficult it was for you to speak, but it was also something he needed to hear.

"You're- h-ah-- soo hot," You seethed, unfocused eyes finally landing on his face, how he pressed that kiss real slow into the back of your hand, eyes unfaltering, "'And-- mmm, s-ooo sweet."

His true nature, with his guard down, didn't even show much like this. When he let loose, you could see that he was not much of a scheming, cunning, captain naturally. He was a big cutiepie that filled the gaps of his loneliness with too many distractions. That left him feeling guilty. Which, in turn, gave him more reason to compensate with the same sinful crutches.

It was easy to feel empathic for him as he gave you those big puppy dog eyes, but it was the very affinity for these crutches that got him all fired up at your words.

"Yeahh-," He gave another, rougher kiss to your hand, and sighed, "You're gettin' dicked down for that one."

Kenma chuckled at his silly, sudden change in attitude. You smiled, relieved, to see that you didn't have to move, that Kuroo would actually go for missionary, because this edge was heaven.

When he was settled between your legs, filling you up again to the base of his cock- he leaned forward and swerved to hold Kenma's face in one of his hands.

"I see what you're doin'."

Surprise was all over his delicate features.

"You're not subtle," He spat, using a rough kiss as the end of it.

They shared a long, messy kiss that spurred Kuroo to start fucking you- your gasps, whines, only encouraged him, only inspired their curiosity.

Maybe Kuroo did understand that Kenma had a higher plan; one that involved persuading you to come clean about your secret feelings, and use that as a weapon to inspire action in Kuroo. What remained ambiguous was why.

As distracted as Kenma was, he still didn't let off of your poor, overstimulated clit. They were both so rough in their respective tasks, and every time you tried to move one of them, your hands would be intercepted.

You had to just lay there and take it.

The 'why' kind of- fell away, when he parted from Kenma's soft lips, looking down at your clingy, blacked-out expression. Needy. He didn't get that look often- it made his cock swell, and turned his thrusts harder, as he felt you tighten.

"Fuck-! Ughh-" He had to swallow the build-up of spit in his mouth, push his sweat-soaked hair back, "You gonna cum around my cock?"

You responded so well to the pain on his face, the wanton desire behind the way he dug into your hips and watched Kenma lean over you for more kisses.

"Right in front of your- Mmh, pretty- little- boyfriend?"

In your pseudo-daze, riding that high, long-awaited build-up, you could feel Kenma sigh against your mouth at the attention.

"Fuck- fuck, fuck--!" You gasped- your pussy spasmed around his perfect cock.

Kuroo bit the inside of his already chewed up cheek to keep from cumming inside of you.

He felt your nails dig hard into his hand on your hip, your other one adding another trophy to Kenma's scarred shoulders. It was confirmation that Kenma had been lying to the team in the locker room on dozens of occasions, talking nonsense about a cat somehow scratching him up.

"Mmh-h-Ah-!"

It was nearly impossible to listen to you, as he fucked you hard through it all. Kenma recognized that expression well, a little proud smirk at his friend's restraint, and at how good your pussy was to keep him so obedient.

You were coming down, stupid and breathless, when he rushed to pull out of you.

"F-uck, a-ah-Haah, shitshitshit," He whined.

He was shaking, panting, and unsure if he had pulled out in time.

The nasty, addictive feeling of hot, sticky cum painted all between your folds, in the sheets, over your vibrator, tummy, inner thighs, and Kenma's hand.

His face was twitchy, but slowly spread to a panic that wasn't shared between you and Kenma.

Kenma considered torturing him longer, but decided against it.

"Birth control," He clarified, then repeated at Kuroo's empty-headed expression, "She's on birth control."

Kuroo gave a big, loud groan, slouching back to sit on his ankles: "Thank God- Ohhh-! Thank God, Holy shit...fuck."

This relationship had too many cum-hungry habits to not take every precaution. Aside from condoms.

His exhausted relief left him cracking his neck, rubbing his warm face at the sight of how covered you had gotten. He nearly missed Kenma licking the back of his own wrist.

You still looked as cute as ever, all sleepy and drenched. He couldn't help but shimmy lower, just to press a mean kiss to your slicked-up and tired clit.

"Ah-!" You squealed, thighs squeezed around his head.

Thankfully, he didn't intend to stay. He wiped the excess cum off of his cheek, finding it a little too salty for his taste, and chuckled at your quivering form.

Kenma was already taking on the responsibility of cleaning up. It left Kuroo to mess with you a bit longer and nestle up to your side again.

Kenma was on a mission for a warm rag for your slick, starting-to-be-sticky body and pulled on some clothes. He finished his water and excused himself to go grab more, for the two of you.

He watched him leave. It was quiet, except for your still-shaky breathing.

"You okay, babydoll?" Kuroo used his big hand to guide your face towards him, sharing in a few long, soft kisses.

You still kissed him with the same passion as earlier, even though Kenma wasn't around.

A weak, "Mhm."

"Was I too rough with you?"

You smiled, the question somehow able to make you blush, "N-o, you were- you were great."

Kuroo grinned, but it was a little empty. He wasn't optimistic about the reality of the aftermath. One fling, a spur-of-the-moment threesome, was fun, exciting, new. What about after that? After the newness wore off?

The last kiss you shared was a bit harder, rushed, for a reason you couldn't pick apart. He kept talking to you as he moved off of the bed and started getting dressed again.

"Y'know- I thought you and Kemma fucked like old people."

You chuckled, "Oh, really?"

"Yeah- but... you taught me a couple things."

Kuroo knew he would never be satisfied if he was seen as the outsider- but there was no room for him in your dynamic, from what he had seen so far.

He had no idea where he phone was, so he began searching for it, and it took so long that Kenma was already coming back in.

"Where are you going?" Kenma clocked him instantly.

You opened your eyes, confused- and now Kuroo had both of you looking at him like a fox in your henhouse.

"Well- I," He chuckled, again, empty, and you sensed it now, "I just- thought this was-..."

Kuroo swallowed, way more emotionally invested than he wanted to be. Usually, he could brush off that 'Why are you leaving?' look, as a sort of trophy sometimes, in recognition that he fucked somebody well. Here, he felt like a genuine asshole.

Kenma had a rag balled up in his hand, dripping onto the floor like a weapon. He set two bottles down on the bedside table without looking away from him.

"I don't know how you managed to twist it all up in your head, Kuro-," He walked closer, shoulders squared, until he was a little too close. Kuroo mimicked him, naturally.

You covered your mouth, a little too trembly, naked, and uninformed to contribute.

He was incredibly frustrated, as he continued, "-But I know you're not heartless. If you walk out--,"

"What?" Kuroo laughed, egging him on.

"I'm gonna beat your ass."

Kuroo laughed harder, brow furrowed, eyes searching down at him.

Disbelief laced his voice, "Oh, yeah?"

Kenma pushed him. It wasn't hard, but it made him take a step back. Kuroo blinked, and all the amusement had vanished, leaving only irritation in its wake.

It was unironically quite a scary display- you had already taken the initiative to sit up and cover yourself with a blanket. You were swimming in your own guilt. If you had said no, or just never liked him in the first place, it wouldn't have gotten to this point.

Kenma looked incredibly small with Kuroo's heavy hands on his shoulders.

"Good thing-," His hand slid down to Kenma's, interlacing their fingers, with a quick kiss to the top of the head, "I'm not leaving."

You shared big sigh of relief with Kenma.

"Fuck you," He muttered, giving into a grumpy kiss.

Kuroo's brow raised, already cheerful, and satisfied that he was wanted, especially enough to warrant that kind of reaction from Kenma. It was successful at settling any present doubts that this was just surface-level lust at play.

"Mm- maybe next time, yeah?"

He caught sight of you, all worried and bundled up in your blanket, "Aaww, sweetie-!"

"You poor thing-," He quickly returned to hug you, a thousand apologetic kisses to your head, "I would never hurt Kemma."

The only problem left to address was your stickiness, now also all over that one throw blanket. They both shared in the arduous task of cleaning up. The two were back to goofing around, showering you in compliments, apologies, and kisses for getting so stupid and worked up while you were caught in the middle.

Kenma had put his foot in the figurative door for something pretty special between the three of you. It would be a process, navigating this new thing together. If it meant more of this, though, it was worth a shot.

☆VIP☆

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my masterlist. more haikyuu. (new) my imagines.

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cakesandfail · 2 years ago

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There is nothing, in any work of fiction, that has ever made me cry more than this bit of Night Watch. Even the end of Lord of the Rings doesn't feel like this does- there's always that tiny little bit more distance there than there is with this.

This feels real.

Even though it literally references the fact that Reg Shoe came back, and that doesn't happen outside of stories, it still feels real. The feelings are real, the meaning is real, it doesn't need to have actually happened.

But in the story, it did, and we're hearing about it from the man who was "privileged to have been there twice". It has a bigger impact, hearing it directly from Vimes, I think.

#gem rereads the watch #last night i had to put the book down and cry lol

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klemen-tine · 1 year ago

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White Whale

Platonic!Yandere Batfam x Male!Deaf Reader

First Batfam post... this obsession for DC and specifically the Batfam has come out of nowhere and has me by the throat.

But here you guys go.

Thoughts

Sign/Morse Code

Speaking

TW: Hints at past attempted rape, disability discrimination

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Things have been quiet, but at the same time hectic, in the Wayne manor as of lately. Almost everyone was there, sharing the same space and eating the same meals. Almost. The third oldest brother, Y/N, was missing. It stung to say, but the truth of the matter was that he had run away. Leaving behind the external processor of his cochlear implants, and only taking a backpack of clothes. He had left behind the credit card Bruce gave to everyone, only taking out a large sum of cash the day before and booking it.

Only one note, ‘I’ll be fine.’ All the trackers left in a straight line on his bedside table, some still covered in blood from when he must have dug them out of his body. It made some of the family members wonder if Y/N had always been aware or if he had found them by chance.

It’s been three months, and everyone was about to go crazy. How could they not? Y/N, for how independent he was and capable, was deaf and has only known the Manor. Jason, the closest to Y/N, has been more vicious on the patrols and was constantly pacing back and forth in the library. Reading and rereading all of Y/N’s favorites (even though he hated them), and sometimes even just sitting in Y/N’s room. Taking in what he had left behind, barely taking any clothes, none of his electronics (his phone was still here), and one of his favorite books that he always kept in his room.

Jason’s going to put a tracker in that book once they get Y/N back.

Nevertheless, sometimes he just sits there. On Y/N’s bed, and takes in the room, sometimes he’s alone and sometimes he’s with a sibling. Every now and then he’ll see Bruce in here, thumbing through Y/N’s journals.

When Jason closes his eyes, could feel the ghost of Y/N’s touches, the feeling of Y/N’s smaller and thinner body resting against his as he read. Thin fingers gently pressed against Jason’s throat to feel the vibrations, picking up when Jason spoke in a higher or lower tone, laughing when he made an obnoxious voice for a character he absolutely loathed. Cold hands gently cupping his face under the sweaty red helmet, grounding Jason to the present.

Dick, as the eldest child, prided himself in being in-tune with his siblings. He would bend and twist himself to keep himself available and aware of his siblings' emotions. He was the guy everyone went to when things were wrong or they needed advice. So, he wonders what he did wrong for Y/N to leave without saying anything. Their third older brother never hinted at anything being wrong, or even any sign of him wanting to leave. There was no change in his moods, no change in interests, no major cash withdrawals besides the night he left.

His older brother instincts were stressed and have been stressed since his little brother had disappeared. In his hands, he fingered a silver stud that Y/N had left behind. Smart of him, because a small tracker was placed underneath the tourmaline gem. The blue hiding it wonderfully while also looking beautiful on Y/N’s skin. Decorating his ears that he had pierced himself (he can still hear Alfred’s outrage whenever he is reminded of that), and being the only piece of jewelry that they wanted him to wear.

Still, Dick had wished he had taken them. He wonders if Y/N knew about the trackers in these earrings, or the trackers in the pairs of shoes he left. If he did, the other did a great job in not letting anyone know. However, if he didn’t, then it made this all the more frustrating. How could their deaf, non-combatant, and to be frank average intelligence, brother get out of this heavily monitored manor? Tim had spent years upgrading the systems, making it stronger and stronger each time.

So, how? More importantly, why?

Dick couldn’t wrap his head around the reason why Y/N would want to leave. He’s fed great food, he has a nice bed, he can read great books, and he’s always surrounded by family. It’s not like they limited his time outside, he can basically come and go when he wants.

As long as he was back in the manor by nightfall, Y/N could go anywhere.

What sucked even more was that none of them had the slightest clue where he could be. Y/N could be dead for all they know.

Dick subdued that thought, having faith that the self-defense they had drilled into Y/N would keep him safe until they found him. However they all intimately know how unfair and unkind the world can be. Y/N, sweet and defenseless Y/N, was all alone somewhere in the world. The worst outcomes kept reappearing in his mind and playing on Y/N’s past traumas.

Why couldn’t his brother see that he was safest here? Everyone praised the Lord that Y/N expressed no interest in being a vigilante, and that his career of choice was instead choosing to be an editor. He took a gap year this year, which everyone rejoiced over. Y/N was a hard worker, and was someone who fully dived into things without taking a break. Like Tim.

Still, Dick wished Y/N would see what they saw. Y/N needs them, just like how they need Y/N. Dick flopped into the couch, thumbing through his photos and finding one of him and Y/N. When they do find him, they’re going to have to remind him where he belongs.

++++

Y/N took in the sun rays with a content smile. His once pale skin now has a slight tint to it, and his hair now lighter due to the sea water and sun. The white beaches reflect the warm rays and the blue waters look like familiar eyes. It took him a while to get used to being on his own, which was proof that he needed to do this. Never in his life has he felt so free.

The wind tossing his hair and the view of waves crashing on the shore had him smiling. The Moby Dick in his hands as he reread the pages, noting the post-it notes he had in it, jotting down his thoughts and musings. The Dominican Republic beaches were already something to die for, but here on the hidden beaches, where only a handful of people knew of its location, were worth killing for. Y/N looked back at the small bungalow he was renting, paying in cash to keep his name off the lease and only staying until March before he will leave for Europe, and smiled. A cute little thing that looked like it could topple at the slightest storm. The electricity was powered by a generator and there was no hot water. Maybe warm, but never hot. Which Y/N was shockingly fine with. It wasn’t like it was cold here like how it was in Gotham.

His biggest stressor was cooking. Which furthermore proved how he needed to do this. Out of all his brothers, he is the only one who doesn’t know how to cook. He can make the basics, like mac-n-cheese, ramen, rice, and basic pasta dishes. However, when his landlord had given him a fish to eat, Y/N stared at it with great embarrassment.

It’s not like he had a phone, or even the internet, to google it.

He had almost set the kitchen on fire but that’s something he’s not going to tell his landlord about.

Thankfully, despite how well-hidden this bungalow was, the community around was strong and well-receptive to him. When he first told them that he was deaf, which was completely by accident, he started getting free food and notepads to write on. However, no one treated him differently. He wasn’t coddled, besides once again the free meal every now and then but he’s positive that also has to deal with how frightened he looked when he was asked to help out with cooking one time, nor was he pestered.

As much as he loves his family, the Wayne family could be… a lot. Always around him, constantly monitoring him, coddling him like he was going to break at the slightest hint of him facing a struggle. Some of them unknowingly, or unintentionally, use his deafness against him as a reason why he couldn’t do certain things. He is grateful to Bruce for giving him his hearing somewhat back, the cochlear implants truly made life easier, but Y/N was curious about the part of him.

He lost his hearing at the age of 10, a gradual process that started when he was 8. The nerves in his ears deteriorated to the point not even the sound of a building explosion could be heard by him. Being deaf in East Gotham as a 10-year-old was basically a death sentence. It didn’t help that Y/N was naturally curious, meaning there were a lot of things he stuck his nose in that he shouldn’t have. It is only because of Jason that he is alive, which the other will always deny but Y/N stands by.

Jason and him had met when they were both 6, being neighbors with similar living conditions had made them close. Jason was with him when his hearing started to disappear, and he was with Jason when Catherine had died from an overdose. The two of them took to the streets and set up a small base in an abandoned building.

He was with him when they decided to steal the Batmobile's wheels, clinging onto Jason’s red hoodie when the local vigilante had lifted him up by the collar of said hoodie. Those eyes that peaked through the mask drifted from defiant blue eyes to terrified E/C eyes.

They had become twins, brothers with different last names and different birthdays, but twins nevertheless. Inseparable and always joined at the hips, only leaving each other when Jason went on patrol as Robin and Y/N chose to stay behind with Alfred. While Jason learned how to kick someone’s ass, Y/N learned how to treat them when their own asses got kicked.

He cried when Jason died. Sobbed and deteriorated as he slept in Jason’s room, and sobbed some more when he tried to read some of Jason’s books. He let Dick comfort him, taking him on daily excursions to the beach and riding on the back of his motorcycle. Bruce had read to him, just how Jason used to, and while it wasn’t the same he appreciated the man trying. Alfred continued to be the emotional support they all relied on him to be, and constantly patted his shoulders and baked him his favorite treats.

Y/N screamed at Bruce when he brought Tim back, stating that he was the new Robin. He made it clear he wasn’t mad at Tim, but Bruce. He gave the man the cold shoulder for weeks while making sure Tim was accommodated for. He cried again when Jason came back, hugging the other and cupping Jason’s older face between his hands. He rested a hand on Bruce’s shoulder when Damian showed up, feeling for him and showing emotions that Bruce could not.

Y/N loves his family with everything in him, and he knows that he is loved back. However, the love from one person was different from the love of multiple people. Y/N knows, is intimately aware, that their love is the type disguised as golden necklaces and stained glass windows. When in reality, they are chains and the gold bars of a cage. He knows they kept him dependent on them for life necessities, such as food, money, and a place to sleep.

He was never allowed to get a job. When he tried he was rejected or never called back. He was allowed to cook, but only the basics, as Alfred didn’t want him hurting himself. His curfew was before nightfall, meaning in winter 4:30 was when he had to be back inside the manor.

They gave him his hearing so the silence would continue to be deafening. It is why he left the external processors. Whether Y/N liked it or not, he was deaf. He is a part of that community, and it is about time he got used to that part of himself.

The young adult knows his family loves him, and wants to care for him, but as an adult he knows that he needs to learn some things about life on his own.

Bruce taught them all well. Alfred taught them all well. His older brothers and younger brothers taught him well. Y/N is ready for this. He has been for a while.

Closing his book, marking the page with the bookmark, he watched a sperm whale breach for only a moment before disappearing under the waves. Unable to hear the sound it made, but the sight of it was enough. He set the book down on the towel and made his way to the waters.

++++

It was an accident. It truly was. However, it was a happy accident that had everyone packing and getting ready for the trip.

One of Tim’s classmates had just returned from vacation, and she was showing photos of the sperm whales that gathered. Tim looked because it was shoved in his face, and he nearly snatched her phone out of her hand. In the back, dressed like a local, he was there. His eyes focused on the breach sperm whales, but Tim would recognize him from any angle in any get up.

He asked what beach she was at, and she said Playa Rincon, Dominican Republic. Y/N was in the Dominican Republic. But for what? Y/N has never shown any interest in the tropics or even the ocean in general. Sure he loves the beach, but that was it. Never has he expressed his desire to go to another country to experience it.

So, what could have been there that would draw Y/N in? With the amount of money he withdrew, he could have bought a plane ticket anywhere in the world, and he chose the Dominican Republic. Without a doubt using a fake idea, a fake name, and he was probably using a different name to either rent a place or buy a house.

Sure, they can all just go over, but if they do they would have to tear apart the country to find him. They work fast, but words can travel faster.

There has to be a reason why Y/N went. Something there that would at least narrow the search.

Tim looked around Y/N’s room, searching for anything that would give him a hint. Anything.

He glanced at the bookshelf where the only book missing was the Moby Dick. A book about how a group of whalers get bested by a giant sperm whale that is believed to be a god. It is a book about a Captain that has a self-destructive obsession with the white whale called the Moby Dick. Based on a true story of a crew on a ship called the Essex.

“I’ve always felt bad for the whale.” Tim raised an eyebrow, staring at his brother who was stroking their youngest brother’s head as Damian slept on. The book In the Heart of the Sea in between his thin fingers as he met Tim’s inquiring gaze.

“There is no proof as to why the whale rammed into the Essex, but many believe it was due to a mistake. The hammering in the hull of the ship sounded like another whale.” Tim signed, ‘But why do you feel bad?’ Y/N smiled, “Because, not only were they being hunted but now a book written about how this one whale is the reason a reputable Captain goes mad really does paint them in a bad light.”

‘Whaling has been outlawed.’

“Still, I bet this book only increased it for a while.” Tim watched Y/N bookmark his page, closing the book before returning his hands to Damian’s head.

‘Do you like sperm whales?’ Y/N beamed, “I do. They really are such an amazing animal, I hope I get to see one in person.”

Tim stood straighter, pulling out his phone and doing a quick Google search. The Dominican Republic is the only place where sperm whales stay all year.

“There’s no way.”

“What.” Tim brushed past Damian, rushing down to the Batcave and ignoring the glare the youngest sent him. It didn’t take long to find whale sighting information. It took even less time to find the pattern. Series of reds, blue, yellows, and green decorating the waters around Dominican Republic. The red dots were where the most recent sights were, and he stared at the location his classmate was at when they saw the whale. Where Y/N’s photo was accidentally taken.

There is only one spot that the red dots haven’t reached yet, and if the pattern stayed true, they had about two to three days.

Tim fished out his phone, calling Bruce, “I know where Y/N is.”

+++

Bruce loves his sons. He would risk himself for them and would do everything in his power to ensure they are safe. Yes, they had been Robins, yes Jason had died, yes his and Dick’s relationship was still rocky, but damn did he love them.

He stared at a photo of when Y/N and Jason were 13, 6 months freshly moved into the manor, and it was him and Dick standing on opposite sides of them. Jason grinning brightly, holding a more timid Y/N’s hand who was holding onto Bruce’s jacket. Dick was crouching next to Jason, laughing at something the other had said before the picture was taken. Y/N, when they first moved in, had been terribly shy. He always hid behind or stayed next to Jason, and watched Bruce and Alfred with hesitant eyes. Jason on the other hand was outspoken with his mistrust, but willing to comply with their rules for some things.

Bruce remembers when Y/N first helped Alfred dress their bruises and scratches. Alfred taking on a more unruly Jason, while Y/N helped with the minor stuff on Bruce. He had rubbed Y/N’s head with his ungloved hand afterwards, and he watched as those E/Cochromic eyes widened before a large smile took over his young face. Bright and happy with little care in the world.

He had wanted to keep that on Y/N’s face forever.

Bruce will be the first to admit that he didn’t do a great job in that. All his failures hung in front of him, and Y/N and Alfred were reminders that those failures didn’t affect just him. Yet, Bruce watched Y/N power on. Continuing to keep his chin up and shoulders back, taking on the new day with more determination.

Y/N had learned to be strong on his own, and while yes, Bruce is extremely and undeniably proud of him, he is also worried. Terrified. Something he shared with everyone else. The world is unkind to people who are different. It’s unkind to people in general, but to add in something about yourself that you cannot control and that is different from everyone else, it is terrible. Y/N, for how normal he pretends to be, is far from it.

It stresses Bruce out. He is constantly worried for him, constantly double-checking and ensuring that Y/N is okay. Bruce doesn’t want to admit that he is softer to Y/N because he is deaf, because that is not the complete truth. If anything, Bruce knows he is more controlling of Y/N because of that. Always having to know where he is, who he’s with, what he’s doing and whether it is safe enough for him or not.

A helicopter parent that the child cannot hear.

So when Tim had told him of how Y/N had somehow managed to get to the Dominican Republic, and was most likely living there, Bruce wanted to flip a table. All for some whales. He was more stressed than impressed over the fact that his son, who had no experience with Robin or anything illegal, managed to not only get a fake passport, a fake ID, and then live in another country for three months.

“Oh that kid?” One of the locals recognized who Bruce was asking about, a smile on their face as they recalled what an excellent free diver he was. The man grinned, pulling out a camera that had Bruce raising an eyebrow, “I’m an underwater photographer. That kid is a natural in the ocean.” Bruce stared at the photos, and even he could admire just how in place Y/N looked amongst the coral reefs and deep blue. Long legs looked fluid, and his body lithe like the fish he swam amongst.

Y/N looked free.

“Pleasant to talk to as well. It's a shame he’s deaf, he’d be a great teacher for other free-divers.” Bruce wanted to deck this man across the face for stating that Y/N couldn’t do something because of his lack of hearing, but that would be hypocritical. How many times has he used Y/N’s disability against him?

According to Tim, this area is the next stop for whale sightings, meaning Y/N has to be somewhere around here. The family has split up, asking the locals and looking around the tourist areas.

“Did he say where he was staying?” The local shook his head, “No, didn’t ask either.” Bruce wants to break the man's fingers just to make sure the other doesn’t know. The local, as if sensing the dangers he was in, gulped, “But if I had to guess, he most likely lives near coral reefs.

“Somewhere he could free dive constantly without having to go out on a boat. Afterall, for how short of a time he’s been doing it, he’s extremely impressive. A lot of this sport takes practice.”

Bruce nodded in thanks. It is the Brucie Wayne smile now on his face, “Thanks, and how much for the photo?”

Y/N stumbled back to his place, his cheeks flushed and a giggle on his lips. In his hands was a bottle of homemade tequila from one of the locals he had just gotten done partying with, and the taste was thick on his tongue but he couldn’t deny that the heat in his belly was addicting. Stumbling into the tiny bungalow, he set the bottle down on the kitchen table and resisted the urge to take another sip.

Doing a quick stretch, he watched the waves crash against the beach, the full moon illuminating the waters and the white sand.

Only one more day and the sperm whales should be at this side of the island. Maybe they’ll be here tonight. Scratching the nape of his neck, Y/N released a pleased sound before making his way to his room to grab stuff for the shower. He moved in the dark, knowing where everything was and not needing to add to the electricity bill.

The room itself was nice, probably the most grand room in the entire space. Above the bed was a large window that allowed for natural light, constantly illuminating the room. In the soft light of the moon, Y/N navigated his room with practiced movements. The fire in his gut making him stumble sometimes, but nothing serious or even alarming. When he lifted his gaze, his eyes landed on the book on his bedside tables and something else.

Furrowing his brows, Y/N walked to that part of his room, and his eyes turned hazy momentarily as his fingers brushed over the external processor of the cochlear implants, thumbing them and feeling the cool metal under the pad of his thumb. Fond memories of when he first got his hearing back, if only somewhat, and the way the world burst into noise.

He chuckled when a memory popped up of him and Jason arguing, and Y/N had taken off the processors and closed his eyes so he couldn’t see or hear Jason’s argument. The fight dissolved into laughter, Jason hugging Y/N and the both of them landing on the carpeted floor.

They were the external processors he left behind when he left the Wayne manor. Decorated in small stickers that Tim and Dick jokingly put on them, and the small scratches from when Damian had accidentally dropped them.

The processors he left behind to start this new life figuring out how to cope with silence.

The processors… he left… behind…

His E/C eyes widened and he made a quick sprint for the door, dropping his clothes on the floor. He has to go outside where there is open space and where he can hopefully be seen by a local. His family of vigilants excelled in close-combat and combat the needed tight spaces. It wasn't like Gotham had a lot of room to begin with.

He had to get out of here. Y/N has to leave, or at least give himself a chance.

When he threw open the door, he almost collided into the broad chest of one of his brothers. His eyes glanced up and he met the crazed and desperate eyes of his twin. The red helmet off of his head and exposing the bags under his eyes. Guilt crushed Y/N’s chest, and he wanted to cup Jason’s cheeks within his hands. He wanted to assure others he was safe, that he was fine, and that he was ready to do this.

But they would never get it.

He took a step back instead. Jason followed, and Y/N nearly screamed when he felt the floor creak beneath his feet. 4 other pairs of feet moved, making the wood creak and vibrate under his feet and alerting him that they were all in his home.

‘Ready to come home?’ Jason signed, and Y/N felt the wood creak. Y/N shook his head, never taking his eyes off of the man in front of him. Jason's facial expression changed.

‘Too bad.’ Y/N dodged a pair of hands that were behind him and barely side-stepped another pair. Jason stood in front of the door, ensuring that Y/N could not leave through it. He remembers just how slippery the other could be, and he was not risking it.

Y/N raced to the kitchen, grabbing the handle of the tequila bottle, and holding it like a bat. In front of him was his family, Damian, Tim, Dick, Jason, and Bruce. None of them were dressed in their vigilante outfits, and that is because Y/N is not a criminal that needs a suit to fear. He is their brother who needs guidance from his family.

“C’mon Y/N, vacation is over.” Dick said, and Y/N had difficulty reading his lips but he understood it.

“No.” Dick’s jaw clenched and he could see Tim grab something from his pocket.

“Y/N. If you wanted to see the whales you could have asked.” Y/N scrunched his nose, and tightened his grip on the bottle, “Put that down, and let's go.” Y/N shook his head, “No. I want to stay here.” Dick’s lips pursed and Damian scowled, “Why? You have no hot water, you can’t cook, there is literally nothing here other than those whales.” Y/N’s face must have made a terribly pained expression because Damian looked like he had been the one to be chastised.

“I want to learn how to do things on my own.”

“That's so stupid Y/N. Come on.” Y/N shook his head, “No! No, I-I want to stay. I am the only one who get tre-treated like glass. Not even Babs gets treated like me!” Jason glared, “That is different Y/N, and you know it.”

“How?! She is in a wheelchair, and I am deaf. We are both handicapped, but when she wants to do something you have little complaint but when I want to do something you have an entire novel!” It's not fair. Y/N shouldn’t be mad at Barbara, because it is not her fault. But even he couldn’t stop the feeling of resentment building in his chest when he sees how free Barbara is compared to him.

Y/N doesn’t hate Barbara. He couldn’t hate her, because she’s his sister just like everyone else were his siblings. But he is frustrated. So undeniably frustrated. He spent an ungodly amount of nights laying awake and staring at his ceiling as he thought about it. Trying to find the reason why he is treated like the slightest gust would send him stumbling. He wanted a valid reason.

“I am deaf. I am not stupid or-or incapable of taking care of myself!”

“That is not why we are doing this!” There’s no point in yelling because he couldn’t hear it, but Y/N could see the way their throats flexed and mouths opened wider. Y/N shook his head, “I am not glass! I want to learn how to be inde-independent.” He had to slowly say that last word, but he got it.

“I. Am. Staying.”

This is exactly why Y/N left. This is why he left the way he did. Why he had too. They don’t get it. They’ll never get it. How could they understand? They have always been able to make their own decisions. They have always been able to do things that Y/N only wishes he could do. They had such a stangle-hold on his life that the slightest hint of wiggle-room, they only tightened their hold even more. It was suffocating and painful.

It was even more painful because Y/N still loves them, and he knows they love him. That this was just a version of their love that was unfortunately, or fortunately for everyone else, reserved for only him. A chain and leash meant for only him. A cage for him. With intricate gold bars that looked beautiful, but still kept him trapped.

He missed Bruce’s signal, but he watched how Damian was the first to move. Y/N isn’t too sure how he dodged Damian, the little gremlin he was, but he also knows that they weren’t going hard on him. He knows they are not treating him like a criminal, but as a brother. Which means, Y/N was somewhat at an advantage. Bruce and Jason had made sure Y/N knew the fundamentals to self-defense and how to use his surroundings.

His biggest downfall however, was him focusing on Dick and Damian, and forgetting that one of them technically could still intervene. Tim, with whatever he was holding didn’t join the fray and Jason was too busy guarding the door as a just in case. Which is why when a large hand gripped the wrist that was holding the still intact tequila bottle, twisting the joint in a way that had Y/N dropping it, had him crying out in shock. His short fingernails digging into the callused skin of his adopted father, Bruce Wayne.

The man stared at him with a heated glare and Y/N fought off the urge to shrink under the heavy gaze. However, he threw his weight back, trying to dislodge the grip around his wrist. Bruce used his other arm to immobilize Y/N’s upper body, stopping him from throwing an elbow or scratching his hand. Trapping Y/N’s body and making his already racing heart nearly burst in panic.

“No! Let go!” Y/N wanted to stay. He has to stay. His foot stomped and he released a cry, and when he looked down he wanted to cry. The tequila bottle had shattered, and Y/N was the only one who was barefoot. He could feel the glass cutting into the skin and the sting of alcohol entering the wound.

‘Shit!’ He grit his teeth, trying to push aside the pain and get Bruce’s grip off of him. Only, someone was touching his feet now and he didn’t mean to panic but he kicked up. Memories from Crime Alley filled his mind as large hands gripped his ankles, and Bruce’s grip changed to better accommodate someone who was no longer standing.

His throat closed up and he began gasping as he tried desperately to ground himself. His eyes blown wide and tears now streamed down his face as those hands were replaced with others. The darkness of the bungalow now shifted to the darkness of Crime Alley, and the way the counter and island now looked like the buildings of the Alley way had Y/N screeching. Thrown back into the past with painful shove and memories that clouded his vision.

“Jason! Jason! Help, help they’re touching me.” Another pair of arms replaced the ones around his arms, and the hands around his ankles let go, but it did nothing. Y/N was effectively back to the past where it was only him and Jason. Those strong arms encircled around him, keeping his own arms pinned and secured, and they began to rock.

Tapping on his skin and Y/N’s mind began translating it. There was no ASL or Morse Code in Crime Alley, but when Jason and him realized he was going deaf they made their own. One that is unique to them.

One Y/N still remembers, and so does Jason.

‘It’s okay. It’s okay, no one is doing anything. It’s just me and the family.’ Y/N shook, and he struggled to catch a breath. There is a hand on his chest, trying to ground him, and he wonders if that hand is the one that is gripping his lungs and making it so hard to breathe.

‘It’s okay, it’s okay. You are here. You are safe. We’re safe, and we’re going home.’ Before Y/N could process that, there was a sharp prick in his neck, and before he could shout once more a hand covered his mouth, and his body tried to escape the grip. His thrashing only got weaker and weaker as whatever drug was given to him.

His eyes grew blurry and the last thing he saw was Jason’s face.

++++

Waking up was hard. His head felt heavy and his limbs couldn’t move. Opening his eyelids seemed impossible, but when he did he groaned. The light was too bright and his limbs too heavy to do anything other than to continue groaning.

A hand rested on his forehead, and Y/N was too exhausted to try and shake it off. He could hear some shuffling and he furrowed his brows. He took off his external processors a few months ago…

That night returned to his memory full force and Y/N groaned from the headache. The hand on his forehead moving to massage his temples.

“Shh, I know. You had a crazy time.” It's been a long time since he heard Bruce’s voice, but it was still deep and gravelly just how he remembers. Y/N turned his head with difficulty, and met those blue eyes that have been staring at him intently.

Y/N opened his mouth, but closed it. The argument he had with everyone was still fresh in his mind, and he couldn’t help but to continue feeling bitter. Bruce, sensing his son’s thoughts sighed exasperatedly, “Y/N, I admire your drive for wanting to be independent, I really do. But pulling a stunt like that is exactly why we worry.” Y/N scrunched his nose, “You don’t trust me.”

“That’s not-”

“It is. If you did trust me you would let me stay out later than nightfall and would be okay with me traveling without a babysitter.” Bruce removed his hand, and stared down at Y/N. His expression is painfully neutral, “Y/N.”

“You, and no one else in this household, trust me. Then you sit here, listing out everything I do that makes you lose your trust in me, but it’s hard to lose what I never had,” He was voicing his opinion, an opinion that he has had for a while but has never said anything about because he didn’t want to interrupt the balance.

More importantly, he didn’t want to admit it to himself. They always called him trustworthy, but they never did trust him. He trusted them though. He trusted them with his life, with his secrets, and his insecurities. Then they throw all of that back in his face and expect him to continue making the same mistakes.

Bruce sighed, as if he was talking to a child that has needed to be told multiple times why they can’t put a fork in a toaster. He met Y/N’s E/C eyes, staring into the irises and seeing the truth behind his words. One of his fingers gently touched one of the external processors, “It’s not that I don’t trust you, I don’t trust other people. This world is awful to people who are different.” Y/N scrunched his nose, and Bruce continued, “You still panic when your ankles are touched.”

“That’s not fair! That was a stressful situation and you all just made it worse and then-”

“I know. I know. Dick knows and he is sorry about that, but you stepped on glass.”

“You made me drop the bottle.”

“You shouldn’t have been dri-”

“I’m 23. I’m legal to drink in every country.”

“Y/N-”

“I was fine.” Y/N wanted to cry. He had a taste of freedom and then it was taken from him. Forcefully so.

Bruce stood up, almost knocking the chair back as he did so, and Y/N flinched. He was unable to move still, because whatever drug Tim had given me must have been a muscle relaxant as well. He watched as Bruce schooled his emotions, quickly swallowing them down and then sighed.

The man leaned down and pressed a kiss into Y/N’s H/C locks. His hand now cupping Y/N’s ear and external processor, “You are grounded until I say otherwise, Y/N. You will stay within these Manor walls until I believe you have learned your lesson.” He ignored Y/N’s face of exhaustion and disappointment. Not at himself, but at Bruce. The man made his way to leave, but before he closed the door, he looked back at his son. His son who had turned away from him and was taking note of the bars over the windows.

Bruce closed his eyes, feeling his disappointment in the situation and shut the door behind him, making sure to lock it.

_________

THIS WAS SO LONG!!!

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saintvainglorious · 1 month ago

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Fics I Enjoyed in December - DC Comics Fic Rec List

Fell headfirst back into DC Comics for the first time in years this month. Reread some old favorites and discovered some new gems!

Heart, Humble by Betty (Mature, 8k, 2005) Jack Drake deals with finding out that Tim is Robin (poorly, and then not so poorly). THEE canon-accurate Jack Drake-focused fic of all time, this is canon in my heart.

Back then, all the boys his age had hero-worshipped costumed vigilantes. Jack supposes they still do.

Exit Strategy by smilebackwards/@smilebackwards (Teen & Up, 13k, 2021) Tim plans to leave a family he thinks he was never really a part of and decides to train Damian on how to run Wayne Enterprises before he goes. Delicious angst, excellent character work, and fun Wayne Enterprises worldbuilding.

Batman needs a Robin and Batman has a Robin. Tim is just extraneous now, vestigial. He’s a bandage over a healed wound. He doesn’t know what he’s hanging on to. Or: Tim didn’t expect his exit strategy from the Batfamily to involve quite so much bonding time with Damian over Wayne Enterprises bureaucracy.

On the Downbeat by husborth (Teen & Up, 2k, 2019) Bruce and Jason talk while waiting in line at a drive-thru (featuring Gotham-typical violence and husborth-typical gorgeous prose). I've always adored husborth's Star Wars fics and I'm so glad I dipped my toe into their DC works, no one's writing hits quite like husborth.

Jason has recovered his sanity, and Bruce and Jason have recovered their relationship; but there are some things that are hard to forget.

A Zoo for Canines by husborth (Mature, 45k, 2019) Part 2 of Zoology; Dick and Jason try to help Bruce recover from addiction. If you're used to fanon Dick Grayson (cheery, friendly, forgiving) you will not find him here - his anger and pain is ugly, raw, and so fucking captivating.

Dick, Bruce, and Jason head out to a cabin in the mountains, and they handle things about as well as they handle anything.

All the Roofs of Uncertainty by Kieron_ODuibhir/@kieron-oduibhir (General Audiences, 70k, 2015) Dick almost dies and makes Jason promise to take care of the family for him. A masterclass demonstration on how DC fic can square all the wildly divergent canon versions of Jason Todd into a single compelling character.

For all the blood on his hands, Red Hood was never just a villain. And Nightwing never gives up on family, not for good. (Or: The one where Dick bleeds a lot and Jason argues with everybody.)

The Till-Then From the Ever-Since by Kieron_ODuibhir/@kieron-oduibhir (General Audiences, 85k (WIP), 2020) Kid versions of the whole Batfamily mysteriously time travel to the future! I livetexted a friend the whole time I read this so I could yell about how amazing the character writing is; also I'm wildly impressed with how the author deftly handles tons of dialogue-heavy scenes with like 12+ guys in it without anyone going unmentioned.

It began, or seemed to begin, with Jason. Usually that would have meant something in the order of fire and explosion and probably at least one gunshot wound, but for once (as Tim said, sourly), it wasn't actually Jason's fault.

only you will have stars that can laugh by silverwhittlingknife/@silverwhittlingknife (Teen & Up, 9k, 2022) Dick finds out Tim is alone on Christmas and invites him to Babs' Christmas party. Discovered silverwhittlingknife through their galaxy brained Dick & Tim meta essays, stayed for every single line of Chapter 2 ripping out my heart and roasting it over an open flame.

You coming over is possibly the only thing that’s gonna stop me from wanting to punch your dad in the face, Dick doesn’t say. My current Christmas Day plans are 1) pace around at home, and 2) try not to obsess about what Bruce is up to, so trust me, you’ll be an improvement, Dick doesn’t say. Tim's alone on Christmas Eve. Dick finds out, and fixes it.

nerve endings by silverwhittlingknife/@silverwhittlingknife (Teen & Up, 5k (WIP), 2024) Post-Catalina Flores, Dick, Tim, and Bruce go on a (canon-accurate) cruise and dance around their open wounds. This is a glorious example of "he WOULD fucking say that", Dick's voice is so canon-accurate that the angst is even more painful i cri

It's all right, even, to have a foreign hand pressing against his skin, testing him, testing his reactions. He keeps his breathing controlled. Just Tim, damn you, it’s just Tim, don’t fuck it up. Dick's on a cruise with Bruce and Tim. And he's fine. Mostly.

Red Letter Day by silverwhittlingknife/@silverwhittlingknife (Teen & Up, 42k (WIP), 2022) Dick is sure the cryptic scribble in his agenda refers to something he's supposed to do for Damian, but he can't remember what. Mostly about Tim and Dick s l o w l y mending the post-Damian rupture in their relationship, but the whole family is here and Jason, especially, is fucking hilarious.

Dick Grayson, stressed pseudo-parent to a preteen assassin, tries to solve the case of Damian’s Mysterious Wednesday. He never expected it to help him fix his relationship with Tim, too. (… Though only after everything fell apart first.)

Gonna Be A Better One (A Thousand Miles To Your Door) by Traincat/@traincat (Teen & Up, 18k, 2011) Tim and Kon keep dating even after Jack forces Tim to retire as Robin. I reread this fic annually and every time am delighted to rediscover how funny and heartwarming and squee-inducingly kind it is, pure Timkon perfection.

In which Tim quits being Robin, Kon refuses to quit Tim and Ma Kent is full of relationship advice.

last light in a darkened room by bigdamnher0/@bigdvmnhero (Not Rated, 6k, 2024) Tim finds a distressing video of Robin!Dick and wishes that things were different. The whole fic, particularly Tim manifesting a happy ending in the bathroom, is a gorgeously crafted tragedy such that you're left kind of awed at how thoroughly massacred your heart and soul are post-read.

Tuesday morning: a video was uploaded to one of the deep web black markets. The footage, shot on those grainy vintage camcorders. But Tim knew that boy in the thumbnail; his eyes had memorized him, the heft and shape and dazzle of him, imprinting like an afterimage. Or: a brother is a witness; there's your tragedy.

buy back the secrets by sundiscus/@vinelark (Teen & Up, 91k (WIP), 2024) Superboy rescues civilian Tim Drake before learning that Tim is Robin and shenanigans ensue. I spent my whole holiday vacation intermittently screaming at this fic while my family members looked on with vague concern this fic is ADORABLE and AGONIZING and PERFECT please and THANK YOU.

He takes a long, slow breath. Ignores the glares from the other students. “Superboy,” he murmurs. “It’s me. If you’re listening, I could use some help.” Or: 5 times Superboy saves Tim Drake, and one time Tim Drake saves Superboy.

#fic recs #fanfiction #dc comics #batfamily #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #bruce wayne #kon el #timkon #i think it's interesting how many of these are dick grayson focused (as in primarily from his pov) - 6 out of 12! would not have expected i #given that i usually search for jason or tim-centric fics #but wow i've been so blown away by the dick stuff #(yes im a comedian what can i say)#i'm going to go hunting for more quality timkon bc this month's timkon has set a HIGH standard

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sparkinajar · 7 months ago

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!!This post contains mild spoilers for HTN!!

Rereading Gideon's parts HTN and I am not okay. I'm just going to dump a couple of my favorite quotes so far here:

"Always your sword, my umbral sovereign; in life, in death, in anything that they want to throw at thee and me"

"I'd kill for her! I'd die for her. I did die for her. I'd do anything she needed, anything at all, before she even knew she needed it."

"You remember how the fuck-off great-aunts always used to say, Suffer and learn? If they were right, Nonagesimus, how much more can we take until you and me achieve omniscience?"

"Nonagesimus, you hating me always meant more than anyone else in this hot and stupid universe loving me. At least I had your full attention."

"If you keep acting like you know her- not even like you care about her, but like you know the first thing about her- I will end you here and now."

"Fuck one flesh, one end, Harrow. I already gave my flesh to you, and I already gave you my end. I gave you my sword. I gave you myself. I did it while knowing I'd do it all again, without hesitation, because all I ever wanted you to do was eat me.

Which is, coincedentally, what your mother said to me last night."

Every time I read these parts, I am punched in the gut by just how much Gideon loves Harrow. It's consuming and messy and complicated but at the end of the day it's love and it hurts me so badly that she's not even aware how much Harrow loves her back. (despite such gems as 'I cannot conceive of a universe without you in it' but I'll do a seperate quote post for that I think)

Anyway this isn't a deep analysis post or anything. I'm just in pain.

#htn #harrow the ninth #htn spoilers #I suppose #gideon nav

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stars-for-circe · 11 days ago

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Circe's Most Frequented 🤍🤍🤍

My favourite authors over many different fandoms, for your indulgence.

@astralnymphh - TLOU, sapphic, shakespeare reborn

𖣂 There is no one else who could begin this list except for you tbh. One of the first authors I ever followed on this app and your work has never failed to blow me away; from your beautifully paced works that never run out of new prompts and tropes that you always nail, to your crazy big words you scavenged from wordhippo and managed to intergrate perfectly into your fics. To the Ellie Williams enthusiasts, give her fics a read and I promise it will change the trajectory of your lives forever. And don't be afraid to send her an ask, because she will quite literally craft a masterpiece.

𖣂 My recommendation: 'The Salvo Project'

@vifilms - TLOU, sapphic, she makes tumblr formatting her bitch

𖣂 At first it was your witty drabbles, then you graduated to 10k fics that take everyone's breath away. The way you can turn a single tiny idea into such a detailed work while also integrating the essence of each character you write into every single paragraph never fails to amaze me every time you appear on my feed. With your constantly changing layouts, and your beautifully crafted fic headers that show just how much of your heart goes into everything you put onto this app, you keep raising the bar again and again.

𖣂 My recommendation: 'Long Night, Long Ride'

@sweetercalypso - TLOU, multi

𖣂 Also one of my first follows, I remember quite clearly scrolling through the Abby Anderson tag on ao3 and being so blown away that I basically did a cartwheel when I saw you on tumblr. Your fics are the perfect late-night fix that are to-the-point, and your drabbles are filled with every trope anyone could even think up. And I'll shamelessly admit that reading your fics definitely moved Joel up quite a few slots in who I liked most within tlou.

𖣂 My recommendations: 'Texas Hold 'Em' + 'Uncharted Territory'

@the-kr8tor - Spiderverse, f/m, sfw

𖣂 I gotta say, this third movie needs to speed up so more people can come here and see how well you write for the spiderverse. Finding you in the tags was like a breath of fresh air, and your series works have kept me up at night on more than one occasion because of their binge-worthy goodness! From the adorable drabbles of Billie and Ramona, to the ups and downs that come with being a pirate, your works keep me invested even in the first, second....twenty-something times I've reread them.

𖣂 My recommendation: 'Our Place In The Middle Of Nowhere'

@s-4pphics - TLOU, Arcane, sapphic

𖣂 I hope you know that when you released 'The Call', it kept me up at night. Seriously, you're a genius. Maybe this style has been written before but it's the first time I've seen it. And amidst all the Sevika and Vi works that were being pumped out after the release of season 2, that fucking gem was put on my feed and it genuinely blew my mind. It was the perfect combination of crack-style fic and dark humour, coming together to make this smutty, hilarious, jaw dropping fic that had me pacing around my room a couple times - one of my favourites of all time.

𖣂 My recommendation, obviously: 'The Call'

@taintandviolent - Ahs, f/m, multi-fandom extraordinaire

𖣂 First of all, your username is fucking genius. Like actually, it had me saying it out loud and having such an OHHH moment and now I can't stop thinking about how cool it is. Secondly, if anyone has a taste for dark, gritty, horror infused tropes, or loves anything Evan Peters just like I do, her blog is the way to go. Her page is unapologetically for the monster-loving girlies who 'can fix him', and there's a little bit in there for every fandom that finds her. You're one of my favourite authors to send requests to, and you have definitely made me see Bill Skarsgard in a different light as of recent. 𖣂 My recommendation: 'Ouija Board’

#PLEASE give them a read they genuinely changed the trajectory of my life #ellie williams x reader #abby anderson x reader #hobie brown x reader #joel miller x reader #tate langdon x reader

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starrgaziinggg · 1 year ago

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all I need is you

Hyunjin x reader, established relationship, fluff

-> 1.4k words

You almost don't notice the space beside you being filled. It had been hours, just staring at the city below you as the wind forced goosebumps to rise on your arms. Being alone had never bothered you much until today. Watching groups of friends gossiping around campus on your first day back only fuelled your desire to have a friend group of your own.

Girls you could talk about anything with. Guys that teased you lovingly. A firm body of people around you. It wasn't as though you'd never had friends, it was more so you couldn't find the place you naturally fit in. You were never any good at long term friendships, finding the forced nature of them disconcerting.

Hyunjin drops a hoodie on your lap before nestling in beside you, the make shift outdoor sofa you'd created one bored night being the only source of comfort on your rooftop. Until Hyunjin, of course. His warm aura brings you comfort even on your darkest days.

"Figured you'd be freezing to death up here," he chuckles, grabbing both of your hands in his to warm them. His freshly dyed black hair (a shame to you, since you'd loved the red, but his boss did not) blows into his face as he turns to give you a lopsided grin.

It's almost comical how at ease you feel now he's by your side, your feelings of loneliness evaporating almost instantly. He was a stroke of luck, Hyunjin, seemingly finding you when you needed him most. An art student, working long shifts in a local cafe to get by, who'd become a recluse voluntarily.

The bookstore you'd first met in was always desolate. You'd no idea how the small gem managed to stay afloat, since you were almost always the only person that bothered to give it time. It was one of your favourite places, the sole owner knowing you by name.

Six chapters into rereading your favourite book and there he was, nudging your foot with his as he flopped onto the beanbag beside you.

"Heaven, by Mieko Kawakami," he read aloud, tilting his head at you inquisitively. "Any good?"

A couple seconds after the shock of a gorgeous man interrupting your evening routine, you nod slowly.

"It's my favourite," you had replied in a small voice, confused as to why this god crafted human being was in a run down bookshop behind your apartment block, and why he was giving you the time of day.

"Tell me about it," he's said, shrugging his shoulders and leaning back, patiently waiting.

So you delved into a ramble about the basis of the book and why it meant so much to you, the premise of morality and why people do the things they do. And the whole time Hyunjin, as you'd come to discover his name, sat listening intently, nodding along without interrupting once.

When you'd concluded, realising you had been speaking much longer than you probably should have been, he raised his eyebrows.

"You know, I was never any good at English in school. I slept through every book analysis my dull ass English teacher ever attempted. And, I actually only came in here because it's one of the only stores in the area that has this art book I need, but I could probably listen to you talk about how to tie my own shoelaces and still be entranced."

The shellshock of Hyunjin's immediate interest in you took weeks to dissipate. You'd talked until the owner of the bookstore told you (lovingly) to beat it, and then some. The next day, you'd completed your summer university coursework in the cafe he worked at until his shift finished and then walked aimlessly around the area, never running out of topics to discuss.

And that was that. Within months you knew everything about each other. He took you to his favourite museum one day, explaining the intricacies behind every painting, and all you could do was watch him in awe. He walked you home, told you you were his favourite person in the universe, and kissed you because he meant it.

You'd never thought of yourself as a lucky person, but in that moment it was as though all your good karma had willed itself into existence.

"What's going on inside that head, pretty?" He says now, tilting your head up with his finger to meet his gaze.

"Nothing majorly substantial," you reply lazily, kissing his nose lightly and making him laugh. You tug on the jumper he'd brought you, a thick hoodie he'd bought recently, as he pulls an arm around your shoulders.

"Every thought you have is substantial," he says matter-of-factly, turning back to look at the view. The city noises dulled as he spoke, car horns and music white noise in the distance. "Even the ones about cats and why they're better than dogs."

"They are," you glare at him, which he just rolls his eyes at. You sit in silence for a couple minutes, enjoying his company as he traces circles on your bare legs absentmindedly. "How was your shift today?"

"Same old," he replies, pulling a hand through his disheveled hair. "You should come in after your classes tomorrow, sit with me behind the counter."

"You're lucky your boss likes you," you chuckle, bumping his shoulder lightly with yours. "I'm there every other day."

"Chan doesn't care," Hyunjin assures with a smile. "He likes you. He actually invited you along to our work night out next weekend."

"He did?" You ask, your attention piquing.

Hyunjin hums in response. "Yeah, but it will be a whole lot of Riki terrorising everyone and risking getting himself fired," he laughs. "That kid is a menace."

"Do you want me to come?" You ask sincerely, doe eyes blinking up at the man you were wholeheartedly in love with. He looks back at you with such adoration your heart physically swells in your chest.

"Of course," he answers instantly, his brows furrowed. "Everyone I work with probably likes you more than they like me. In fact, they've stated it more than once. Plus, I'd get to show off my pretty girlfriend, and I need you for morale support against Riki."

The grin appears of your face quicker than lightening as you nestle your head into Hyunjin's shoulder.

"Sometimes I think I'm the luckiest girl in the world to have you in my life, you know," you mumble. "I don't know what I ever did to deserve you."

You feel Hyunjin shake his head above you, before reaching for your face with both hands and making you stare at him.

"You're perfect, love," he smiles, rubbing his thumb against your cold cheek. "You can be a stubborn thing, but I love you for it. If you could see yourself through my eyes you'd understand why I'm so infatuated with you."

You can't help but to roll your eyes, a natural instinct to any compliment you receive. He shakes you gently as you laugh, as if attempting to rid you of all your negative thoughts.

"Now, get your ass inside your apartment. It's fucking freezing out here, and I'm shattered," he groans, standing up and pulling you along with him.

"You're staying over?" You ask excitedly, knowing he was going to classes early in the morning.

"Duh," he says sassily, leading you through the fire escape after intertwining your hand with his own. "I missed you like crazy at work today. Chan's new no phone rule is kicking my ass and I need a cuddle."

You laugh, following him down the stairs in your apartment building like a puppy. "You're cute today."

"I'm cute everyday," he counters, turning to tilt his head at you. You stop for a second, just staring down at him.

"I love you, you know?" You say, as if he's not already aware of how deep your feelings run for him. He just grins back at you, tugging you down the stairs and into his embrace.

“I love you too, angel,” he replies whilst wrapping his arms tightly around you.

Maybe you would never have the amount of friends you’d always desired. Maybe those deep rooted feelings of loneliness would never fully dissipate. But with Hyunjin by your side, you felt as though you didn’t need anything more.

I wrote this last night and wasn’t going to post it but I think it’s cute so here you go :) sorry for the inactivity, I am swamped rn but I’m trying my best!

#hyunjin x reader #stray kids #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin fluff #stray kids hyunjin #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin fluff #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin imagine #hyunjin comfort #stray kids imagines

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