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elikajinnie · 8 days ago

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Steal Your Way To My Heart - N.R (Part 4)

P: Bankrobber! Ni-ki X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Murder, Violence, Blood, Angst, Kidnapping, Seperation Anxiety?, Ni-ki just wanna spoil you.

Synopsis: Your life was boring—until a visit to the bank changes everything. Now you find yourself under the attention of one of the criminals. Now what do you do when the criminal's attention isn't just on the job but on you?

a/n: okay, so by popular vote, i delivered :) this was supposed to be posted long time ago, but moms turkish drama kept distracting me and had some relationship issues >:(

part 1 part 2 part 3

So you were officially Ni-ki’s girlfriend. And things were... surprisingly good. After that heist, he seemed to tone things down. Gone were the days of reckless, dangerous heists; now, he was the boyfriend you never expected—someone who picked you up from work or school, bought you your favorite flowers, and took you out on regular dates, always paying for the bill without a second thought.

He was thoughtful, attentive, but still had that intensity about him that kept you on your toes. But it wasn’t all just normal date nights and sweet moments. Ni-ki had an eye for luxury, and he wasted no time in decking you out in designer clothes and diamonds. Most of it you didn’t really use—you only wore the pieces that you truly loved—but you had to admit, his taste was impeccable. He knew exactly what suited you.

And like him, you found yourself matching with him often. He’d buy you clothes from the same brands he adored—mainly Chrome Hearts—and soon enough, you both became a walking, matching advertisement for the brand, with your outfits perfectly coordinated. Every time you looked in the mirror, you couldn’t help but appreciate how well everything fit. The diamonds glittered just as much as the smile Ni-ki gave you when he saw you in them.

But you always took a moment to remind him that you weren’t with him for the money. It wasn’t the luxury or the endless pampering that had won your heart, although you couldn’t deny you enjoyed it. No, you loved Ni-ki for who he was.

“Ni-ki,” you would say, catching his gaze as you adjusted the diamond necklace he had given you, “I don’t need all this.” You gestured to the designer clothes and the jewelry. “I love everything you get me, even if its something simple.”

He would smile, a genuine smile that reached his eyes, and pull you into a gentle embrace. “I know,” he’d reply, his voice soft and warm. “But I still want to spoil you.”

And he did. Ni-ki was everything you could have wanted in a man and more. He was protective, attentive, and incredibly loving in his own way. He listened when you talked about your day, made sure you had everything you needed, and never hesitated to show you just how much you meant to him. His love was sometimes overwhelming, but always real.

So you were quite surprised when, out of nowhere, Ni-ki disappeared. It wasn’t even gradual—it was like he just had been erased from existence overnight.

Your calls didn’t go through. Every message you sent was met with silence. The usual places where you’d expect to find him were void of any sign of him.

It was as though he had vanished off the face of the earth.

At first, you tried not to panic. Maybe he was laying low, being cautious because of something related to his “work.” It wasn’t uncommon for him to disappear for a day or two without much explanation. But this… this was different. Days stretched into weeks, and there was no trace of him.

The house plants he bought you started to wilt. The flowers he’d shower you with dried out in their vases. Even the expensive gifts that once felt like tokens of his love now felt like hollow remnants of someone who wasn’t there.

You told yourself to stop worrying, to trust that Ni-ki would show up like he always did. But there was this gnawing feeling in your chest that something was wrong. The man who never let a single detail slip, who checked in even during the middle of a heist, wouldn’t just leave without a word.

It wasn’t just his absence that hurt—it was the questions it left behind.

Had something gone wrong? Was he in danger? Did he leave to protect you? Or… had he chosen to leave you behind?

You couldn’t decide which thought was worse.

And so, you found yourself in limbo, walking through your days like a shadow of yourself. Every time you heard a car engine roar or the faint buzz of your phone, your heart jumped, hoping it was him. But it never was. It was like living in a constant state of waiting, with no end in sight.

Because no matter how dangerous or reckless Ni-ki was, he had never made you feel like this before—like you were completely and utterly alone.

You didn’t know what to do. Who could you even ask? Ni-ki didn’t exactly have a list of friends you could call up, and even if he did, would they tell you the truth? Would they even know?

You couldn’t go anywhere either, since over time, Ni-ki had subtly embedded himself into your life. His toothbrush sat next to yours in the bathroom, his favorite snacks were still in the kitchen cupboards, and his scent still lingered on the hoodie he’d left draped over the back of your couch. Everything around you was a reminder of him, of how present he used to be—and now, of how completely absent he was.

You felt helpless. All you could do was wait. Wait for a sign, for any kind of clue that Ni-ki was okay. That your boyfriend would return. That he hadn’t just dropped everything, ghosted you, and fled to another country or something, leaving you to pick up the pieces of a life you’d built together.

And it wasn’t just his disappearance in your life that hit—it was the absence of him everywhere else, too.

There were no robberies, no heists, no headlines about criminals pulling off impossible jobs. Nothing.

Ni-ki’s world, the one you’d been reluctantly dragged into, seemed to vanish along with him. It was like he’d flipped a switch and erased himself completely, leaving no trace that he or his crew had ever existed.

And that terrified you.

Because if there were no heists, no rumors, and no movement in the underground world he thrived in… then what had happened to him?

You tried to keep yourself busy to stop your mind from spiraling. You went to work, cleaned the apartment, and even started wearing some of the designer clothes he’d bought for you—just so you wouldn’t see them lying untouched and feel that pang of loss all over again. But no matter how much you distracted yourself, the questions never left.

Where was he? Why had he disappeared? And most importantly—was he even still alive?

Each night, you’d sit on the edge of the bed you used to share, staring at your phone, willing it to buzz with a message from him. Just one word, one sign that he was out there, that he hadn’t forgotten about you.

But it never came.

And the silence, day after day, was slowly eating away at you.

Where could he have possibly gone?

You wondered that every single day. The question circled endlessly in your mind, eating away at you, consuming you whole. It kept you awake at night, staring at the ceiling as you tried to piece together a puzzle you didn’t have all the pieces for.

Had something gone wrong? Maybe the cops had finally caught up to him. Or worse, maybe a rival crew had taken him out.

Or—your heart clenched painfully at the thought—what if he had left on purpose?

You hated yourself for even entertaining the idea, but you couldn’t help it. Had all the promises, the whispered words, the moments he’d held you close meant nothing? You couldn’t shake the memory of how he used to look at you, like you were the only thing that mattered in his world. It didn’t make sense for him to just walk away from that.

But then again, Ni-ki wasn’t exactly a predictable man.

You found yourself retracing your memories of him over and over, looking for signs you might have missed. Had he said something that hinted he might leave? Had there been a change in his behavior that you hadn’t noticed at the time?

But nothing came up.

You thought about the last night you’d spent together, how normal it had been. He’d kissed you goodnight, murmured something about taking care of “a few things,” and promised he’d see you the next day.

But that day never came.

And now you were left with a hollow ache in your chest and a million unanswered questions.

You tried searching for him. You went to places you knew he frequented, even places he’d warned you never to go. You lingered near shady alleys, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone who might recognize you, who might know where Ni-ki was.

But every lead you tried came up empty. And no matter how much you told yourself to stop, to move on, you couldn’t. Because deep down, no matter how angry or hurt you were, you still loved him. And the thought of never seeing him again? That was something you couldn’t accept.

So since you couldn’t accept it, you decided to live with it.

He would return—eventually. He had to.

You clung to that belief, repeating it to yourself like a mantra. Ni-ki always had a way of showing up when you least expected it. He wasn’t the kind of man who just disappeared forever, not without a reason.

But until then, you had to keep going. Life didn’t pause for your heartbreak, no matter how much it felt like it should.

You went back to work, dragging yourself through each day. You tried to focus on the mundane things. It was easier to keep your mind occupied than to let yourself fall into the black hole of wondering why.

The apartment felt emptier than ever, though. His things were still there, little reminders of him scattered everywhere. His clothes in the closet, his jacket still hung by the door, and the scent of his cologne lingered faintly on the sheets.

You told yourself not to touch any of it, like leaving it all the way it was would somehow bring him back faster.

But the days kept going, and the silence became unbearable.

At night, you found yourself sitting by the window, staring out at the city lights, hoping that maybe you’d see him walking up the street. Or hear the familiar sound of his key turning in the lock.

But it never happened.

Instead, the city moved on without him, and you were left standing still, caught in the limbo of waiting.

And then, just when you started to think you might have to let go of the hope that had been keeping you afloat, something changed.

You were just outside, taking the trash out. It was ordinary, mundane, and the last thing you expected was for your life to take a sharp, terrifying turn.

As you tied up the trash bag and made your way toward the dumpster, you felt a presence behind you. Before you could turn around, something cold and hard pressed against the back of your head—a gun.

"Don't scream," a low voice ordered, calm but menacing.

Your breath hitched, your heart racing as fear overtook your body. You barely had a chance to process the situation before rough hands grabbed you, shoving a bag over your head.

“Hey!” you yelled, but your voice was cut off as you were manhandled, your arms pinned to your sides. You thrashed as much as you could, but whoever had you was strong—too strong.

"Keep still," the voice snapped as you were dragged across the pavement.

The sound of a car door opening made your stomach drop.

You screamed again, the sound muffled by the bag over your head, but it didn’t matter. You were shoved into the car with enough force to knock the wind out of you.

The door slammed shut, and you felt the vehicle lurch forward as it sped off.

“Where are you taking me!?” you demanded.

No one answered.

You could hear a few voices around you, low murmurs you couldn’t make out, and the hum of the engine. Your mind raced. Who were these people? What did they want? And why did this feel so… targeted?

You thought of Ni-ki.

Was this connected to him? Had his criminal past caught up to him, and now you were caught in the crossfire?

The car continued to speed through the streets, the sound of the city growing distant. You struggled against your restraints, trying to think of a way out, but the hands that had grabbed you earlier kept you pinned down.

Eventually, the car slowed, and you felt it come to a stop.

The door opened, and you were pulled out, still blindfolded and disoriented.

“Walk,” the voice commanded, pushing you forward.

Your legs wobbled, but you forced yourself to move, your heart pounding as you tried to make sense of your surroundings. You were led into a building—at least, you assumed so by the sound of a door creaking open and the change in the air.

“Sit,” the voice ordered, and you were shoved into a chair, the force making it scrape against the floor as you landed with a jolt.

Before you could even catch your breath, rough hands grabbed your arms and began tying them down to the chair.

“Wait, what are you doing? Let me go!” you shouted, panic flaring in your chest as you struggled against the bindings.

They ignored you, the rope burning against your wrists as they secured it tightly. You twisted and thrashed, managing to elbow one of them in the ribs. The man stumbled back with a grunt, and you seized the moment to push yourself off the chair.

The ropes weren’t fully secure yet, and with an adrenaline-fueled burst of strength, you ripped free and yanked the bag off your head.

The sight before you made your blood run cold.

They weren’t Ni-ki’s people.

No, these were strangers, all wearing clown masks—grotesque, painted grins leering at you as they stood in a loose circle, armed with weapons.

Your breathing hitched as you stumbled back, trying to put as much distance between yourself and them as possible.

One of them stepped forward, clearly the leader, his mask more elaborate than the others with smeared red paint around the mouth and black streaks over the eyes. He held a knife in one hand, the blade catching the dim light.

He tilted his head, gesturing for you to come closer.

You froze, your mind racing. Did he really think you would just… walk to him voluntarily?

Disgust churned in your stomach at the audacity, and your body stiffened as the reality of your situation fully sank in.

“No,” you said, your voice trembling but defiant.

The man tilted his head further, almost amused, and took another step forward. The other masked figures began to shift, closing in around you like vultures circling prey.

Your pulse roared in your ears, but you clenched your fists, refusing to show fear.

“I said no,” you repeated, louder this time, your voice steady even as your legs threatened to give out beneath you.

The leader stopped, his head tilting back slightly as if to examine you. Then, without warning, he lunged.

Instinct took over, and you dodged to the side just in time, the blade narrowly missing you. Your shoulder hit the wall hard, but you didn’t stop moving. You darted for the door, desperate to escape, but two of the masked figures stepped in front of it, blocking your path.

A sharp laugh came from the leader as he straightened, pointing the knife at you.

"Feisty," he said, his voice muffled slightly by the mask. He tilted his head, almost as if studying you. Then, with a low chuckle, he added, “Now I see why Wolf likes you.”

You froze, your blood running cold at the mention of Ni-ki’s alias. Not many people knew of his real name—unless they were part of his trusted circle.

The leader noticed your reaction and laughed again, clearly pleased by your response. “Oh, that got your attention, didn’t it?” he mocked, twirling the knife between his fingers. “Yeah, I know all about your little boyfriend. Wolf this, Wolf that. Always so damn secretive, isn’t he?”

“What do you want?” you snapped, trying to keep your voice steady, though your heart was pounding in your chest.

He ignored your question, taking another step closer. “You wanna know where your precious Wolf went?” he asked, his tone teasing, dripping with condescension.

Your brows furrowed despite yourself, and you hated how you hesitated. Did he know? Did they have something to do with Ni-ki disappearing?

He noticed the flicker of curiosity in your eyes and smirked beneath the mask. “Ah, there it is,” he said. “You do want to know. But then again… should you? I mean, if he really cared about you, don’t you think he would’ve told you himself? Instead of just up and vanishing like that?”

“That’s not—” you began to argue, but he cut you off.

“No, no,” he said, wagging the knife at you like you were some misbehaving child. “Let’s be real here. Do you honestly think he told you everything? Do you really think you’re anything more than a little toy to him? Something pretty to keep around, just for fun?”

“That’s not true,” you said through gritted teeth, your nails digging into your palms as you tried to stay calm.

“Isn’t it?” he pressed, his tone taunting. “Think about it. You’re sitting here, clueless, while we know where he is. Why didn’t he trust you enough to tell you, huh? Maybe you’re not as important to him as you think.”

Your chest tightened, his words cutting deeper than you wanted to admit. You knew Ni-ki cared for you—you felt it in the way he looked at you, touched you, protected you. But the nagging doubt his words planted began to twist in your mind.

“Shut up,” you muttered, your voice trembling with barely contained anger.

“Oh, hit a nerve, did I?” the man said, his laughter echoing around the room. “Poor little thing, left in the dark by the guy who’s supposed to love you. Face it—he’s been playing you from the start.”

“I said shut up!” you shouted, your voice cracking as frustration and fear boiled over.

The man took another step toward you. “Aw, don’t get mad at me. I’m just telling you the truth. If Wolf really loved you, he wouldn’t have left you like this. He’s probably already moved on, you know. That’s what guys like him do—they don’t stick around. You’re just—”

Before he could finish, the sound of a loud crash came from outside the room, followed by shouts. The leader’s head snapped toward the door, his body tensing.

You felt a flicker of hope spark in your chest, though you had no idea what was happening.

The man turned back to you, narrowing his eyes behind the mask. “Stay put,” he ordered, pointing the knife at you, then pointed sharply at two of his men. “You two, stay here. Don’t let her move,” he barked, his voice sharp. Then, without another glance at you, he disappeared through the door, followed by the rest of the masked figures.

The room fell silent, save for the faint, muffled sound of shouting and movement outside. You froze, your breath shallow, as tension wrapped around you.

The two men left behind didn’t seem particularly thrilled about their assignment. One leaned against the wall, lazily spinning a pistol in his hand, while the other paced back and forth, gripping a shotgun tightly.

“What the hell’s going on out there?” the pacing man muttered under his breath, his steps growing quicker as his nerves got the better of him.

“Probably just a distraction,” the other said casually, though his tone didn’t match the unease in his body language. “Nothing to worry about.”

But then the sound of gunfire ripped through the air, loud and unmistakable. Both men snapped to attention, their heads whipping toward the door.

The pacing man cursed under his breath, his hands tightening around the shotgun. “That didn’t sound like nothing,” he hissed.

The other man straightened, his casual demeanor evaporating in an instant. “Stay sharp,” he muttered, raising his pistol and taking a defensive stance.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you watched them, trying to make sense of what was happening. Was it the police? Another rival group? Or—could it possibly be Ni-ki?

The thought made your stomach twist. You didn’t dare hope, but the timing was too coincidental to ignore.

Another round of gunfire erupted, this time closer. The shouts outside grew louder, more frantic, and you saw the pacing man glance at the door nervously.

“What if—” he started, but before he could finish, the door burst open with a deafening crash.

A masked figure stormed in, moving too quickly for you to process, and before the two men could react, shots rang out. The man with the shotgun dropped first, crumpling to the ground, followed by the other, who barely managed to fire a shot before falling.

You screamed, your body instinctively curling in on itself at the scene that unfolded in front of you.

The masked figure turned to you, their weapon still raised. But then, as if realizing who you were, they slowly, they lowered the gun and reached up to pull off their mask.

Your breath caught in your throat as familiar dark eyes met yours.

Ni-ki.

He was breathing hard, his face splattered with blood—none of it his, from what you could tell. His expression was sharp, focused, but the second he saw you, it softened.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low and steady.

You could only nod, too overwhelmed to speak.

Ni-ki moved toward you quickly and grabbed your hand, pulling you with him.

“We need to go,” he said, his grip firm but gentle as he led you toward the door and out.

“What—how did you—” you stammered, your mind racing with questions, but Ni-ki cut you off.

“Not now,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I’ll explain everything later. Right now, we need to get out of here.”

You barely had time to nod before Ni-ki’s hand tightened around yours, his grip both protective and urgent. He moved with precision, his steps calculated, as though he had memorized every corner.

The hallway was dimly lit and reeked of sweat and blood. Bodies lay scattered along the floor, some moving in pain, others motionless. You stumbled over one of them, but Ni-ki was quick to steady you, pulling you closer to him as though shielding you from the reality of what you were walking through.

“Stay close to me,” he muttered, his voice low but firm.

The sound of gunfire echoed down the hall, making you flinch. Ni-ki cursed under his breath and pulled you into a side room, pressing you against the wall as he peeked out into the corridor.

You could hear muffled voices shouting orders in the distance, along with the unmistakable clang of boots against the floor.

“They’re regrouping,” Ni-ki muttered, more to himself than to you.

“Who are they?” you whispered, your voice shaking as you gestured vaguely toward the chaos outside. “And why—why did they take me?”

Ni-ki glanced back at you, his dark eyes intense. For a moment, he looked like he wanted to tell you everything, but instead, he shook his head.

“Later,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Right now, we just need to get out of here alive.”

He leaned back out into the hallway, checking the coast again before grabbing your hand and pulling you back into motion.

The two of you moved quickly, Ni-ki guiding you through a maze of hallways and rooms. You didn’t know where you were going, but you trusted him. You had to.

Eventually, you came to a set of metal doors. Ni-ki pushed one open slightly, peeking out before motioning for you to follow.

The outside air hit you like a shock, cold and biting against your skin. You were in an alleyway, the narrow space lit only by a flickering streetlamp. A black car idled a few feet away, its engine running.

“Get in,” Ni-ki ordered, opening the passenger door for you.

You hesitated for a moment, your legs frozen as your mind tried to catch up with everything that had happened.

“Now,” Ni-ki snapped, his voice sharp but not unkind.

The urgency in his tone jolted you into action. You climbed into the car, and Ni-ki quickly shut the door before jogging around to the driver’s side. He slid in, slamming the door behind him, and immediately hit the gas.

The tires screeched as the car sped out of the alley, merging into the flow of late-night traffic.

For a while, neither of you spoke. You stared out the window, your heart still racing, as the city lights blurred past.

Finally, you broke the silence. “Ni-ki… what’s going on?”

He didn’t answer right away, his hands gripping the wheel tightly. His jaw was clenched, and his eyes were focused on the road ahead.

“Those men,” he finally said, his voice low and controlled, “were enemies. Rivals. They’ve been trying to get to me for months, and when they couldn’t, they went after you instead.”

You felt a chill run down your spine. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you warn me this could happen?”

Ni-ki’s grip on the wheel tightened, his knuckles turning white. “I thought I had it under control. I didn’t want to drag you into this mess.”

“But they did drag me into it,” you said, your voice rising slightly. “And you disappeared, Ni-ki! I thought—” Your voice cracked, and you stopped, swallowing hard.

“I know,” he said, his voice softer now. He glanced at you briefly before turning his attention back to the road. “I had to disappear. They were closing in, and I needed to make sure they couldn’t find you. But I didn’t think they’d figure out where you were so fast.”

You stared at him, your emotions a whirlwind of anger, fear, and relief. “So what now? Are they going to keep coming after us?”

Ni-ki was silent for a moment before answering. “Not if I finish this.”

The weight of his words hung heavy in the air. You didn’t know exactly what “finishing this” entailed, but you knew it wasn’t going to be anything simple—or safe.

For now, though, you were too exhausted to push for answers. You leaned back in your seat, closing your eyes as you tried to process everything.

You were angry. Angry and hurt. But mostly angry.

The more you tried to push it down, the harder it fought to rise. You didn’t want to admit it, but that guys’ words had gotten to you. They’d planted a seed of doubt that wouldn’t stop growing, no matter how much you wanted to tear it out.

Because the more you thought about it, the more it made sense. Ni-ki had always been secretive, careful with his words, deflecting questions he didn’t want to answer. He’d always told you it was to keep you safe, to protect you from the world he was a part of—but was that all it was?

You hated the doubt clawing at you. It felt like a betrayal to even consider it, but how could you not? He hadn’t told you where he was going or what he was doing. He’d disappeared for a month without a word, leaving you to question everything. And now, after swooping in to save you, he dropped you off at this fancy, unfamiliar hotel like you were some burden and vanished again.

It had been three hours since he left. Three hours of silence, alone in this room, alone with your spiraling thoughts.

You paced the room, the plush carpet soft under your feet as you walked back and forth. The anger bubbled under the surface, growing hotter and heavier with each passing second. You felt like you were going to explode.

How could he do this to you? How could he keep so much from you—things that mattered, things that directly involved you?

You looked around the room, the expensive décor and luxurious furniture mocking you. The place was beautiful, no doubt, but it felt cold and empty. It wasn’t home. It wasn’t comforting. It was just another thing Ni-ki had decided for you without asking.

You tried calling him again, for what felt like the hundredth time, but it went straight to voicemail. No message. No update. Nothing.

The anger surged again, and you threw your phone onto the bed with a frustrated groan. You felt like you were going in circles, your mind chasing answers that weren’t there.

All you wanted was the truth. Was that so much to ask?

You sat down on the edge of the bed, your head in your hands. The doubt crept back in, the voices whispering in your head.

He doesn’t trust you. You’re just someone to keep him entertained. If he really cared, he wouldn’t leave you like this.

You hated that those thoughts felt so convincing.

Because deep down, you knew they weren’t entirely wrong. Ni-ki never told you the full truth about his life, and no matter how much you loved him, no matter how much he said he loved you, there was always a wall between you.

A lump formed in your throat, but you swallowed it down. You didn’t want to cry. You wanted to be mad. Mad was better than hurt. Mad was easier to deal with.

The sound of your phone buzzing snapped you out of your thoughts. You grabbed it quickly, hoping it was him, but it wasn’t. Just another notification you didn’t care about.

You sighed and leaned back on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

You didn’t know how long you’d be stuck here, waiting for him, waiting for answers. All you knew was that this wasn’t how things were supposed to be.

If Ni-ki wanted you to trust him, he had to start trusting you too. Because if he didn’t… you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep doing this.

When he eventually did return, it was late at night. You had already gone to bed, the room dark and quiet, when the sound of the door unlocking and opening made you sit up abruptly. You fumbled for the light switch, turning on the bedside lamp, and your eyes widened as you saw Ni-ki standing there.

His clothes were smeared with blood, dark streaks painting his shirt and jacket. His face looked tired, a faint cut across his cheekbone, and his knuckles were raw and bruised.

He looked surprised to see you awake, his usual calm demeanor faltering for just a moment. “You’re awake,” he said, his voice soft but laced with exhaustion. He stepped further into the room, quickly scanning you from head to toe. “Are you okay? Did anything happen?”

You pushed his hands away when he reached for you. “Don’t,” you said sharply, your voice trembling with anger and worry.

His brows furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” you repeated, your voice rising as you threw the blankets off and stood from the bed. “Ni-ki, look at you! You’re covered in blood! You’ve been gone for hours, and you come back like this and expect me to just—what? Pretend everything’s fine?”

“It’s not my blood,” he said simply, as if that was supposed to make you feel better.

You froze, staring at him in disbelief. His words rendered you speechless for a moment, the weight of them sinking in.

“Not your blood?” you finally managed, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and fear. “That’s not the point, Ni-ki! You disappear without a word, leave me alone in some random hotel, and then show up like this? Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been?”

“It was business,” he said flatly, his tone calm but guarded.

That made your anger boil over. “It’s always business with you!” you shouted, throwing your hands up in frustration. “Every time! It’s like you think I don’t deserve to know what’s going on. You vanish, come back covered in blood, and all you can say is business?”

Ni-ki ran a hand through his hair, wincing slightly as his bruised knuckles brushed against his scalp. “You don’t understand,” he said quietly.

“Then make me understand!” you snapped, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions. “I’m tired of this, Ni-ki. Tired of wondering if you’re okay, tired of sitting here not knowing if you’re going to come back. It’s like you don’t trust me, like you don’t think I’m worth the truth!”

He stared at you, his expression unreadable. For a moment, it looked like he was going to say something, but then he just shook his head. “It’s not that simple.”

“It’s not that simple,” you repeated bitterly, crossing your arms over your chest. “Of course, it’s not. Nothing with you ever is.”

The room fell into a heavy silence, the tension between you palpable. You could see the exhaustion in his eyes, the way his shoulders sagged under the weight of whatever he’d been carrying. But that didn’t erase the fact that you were tired too—tired of being left in the dark, tired of feeling like you were fighting for a place in his life.

“I’m going to clean up,” he finally said, his voice low. He turned toward the bathroom, pausing in the doorway to glance back at you. “We’ll talk after.”

But you didn’t respond. You just turned away, sitting back on the bed with your back to him.

You heard the sound of running water a moment later, and you felt a lump rise in your throat. You wanted to believe him, to believe that he cared as much as he said he did, but how could you when he brushed you off like that?

When Ni-ki returned, his steps were lighter, freshly showered, dressed in clean clothes, and with damp hair dripping slightly onto the collar of his shirt. He looked at you, expecting to find you asleep, but instead, you sat upright in bed, the glow of your phone casting shadows over your face.

“You’re still awake?” he asked, his voice low with a mix of surprise and guilt.

You didn’t look up from your phone, your fingers idly scrolling. “Couldn’t sleep.”

His brows furrowed, but he said nothing more as he climbed into bed. The mattress dipped under his weight, and after a moment, he scooted closer, slipping an arm around your waist in an attempt to pull you against him.

You immediately shuffled away, putting space between the two of you.

He froze, his arm hovering in the empty space where you’d just been. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice soft but edged with worry.

You finally set your phone down and turned to face him, your expression heavy with emotion. “I don’t know if I can do this anymore, Ni-ki.”

His eyes widened slightly, the words hitting him like a punch to the gut. “What do you mean?”

You took a shaky breath, feeling the weight of your thoughts crashing down all at once. “You’ve been gone for a month, Ni-ki. A whole month. No calls, no messages, nothing. I didn’t know if you were alive, if you were ever coming back. And then, out of nowhere, you swoop in when I’m in trouble like it’s just another day, like none of it matters.”

“It does matter,” he said quickly, his voice firm as he sat up straighter.

“Does it?” you shot back, your tone sharp. “Because it doesn’t feel like it. You disappear without a word, you keep me in the dark about everything important, and then you show up expecting me to just go along with it, like none of this is supposed to bother me. Do you even…” You paused, your voice breaking slightly as the words caught in your throat. “Do you even love me?”

He stared at you, his lips parting slightly, but no words came out at first. Instead, he reached for you, pulling you into his arms despite your protests and attempts to squirm away.

“Let me go,” you muttered, your voice muffled against his chest.

“No,” he said softly, his arms tightening around you as he rested his chin on top of your head. “I’m not letting you go.”

“Ni-ki—”

“Listen to me,” he interrupted gently, his voice low but steady. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. You’re the only thing in my life that feels real, the only thing I come back to when everything else is chaos. You’re the reason I keep going.”

You shook your head, your hands weakly pressing against his chest as you tried to push him away. “You can’t just say that—”

“I love the way you fight me on everything,” he continued, his lips brushing against the top of your head. “I love the way you look at me like you can see right through me, like you see the parts of me no one else does. I love the way you don’t care about the money, or the things I do—you just care about me.”

“Stop,” you whispered, tears welling in your eyes.

“I love you,” he said again, his voice breaking slightly as he buried his face in your hair. “And I’m sorry for everything. For leaving you alone, for making you feel like you don’t matter. You do, okay? You matter more than anything.”

Despite yourself, despite the anger and hurt you still felt, his words broke through the walls you’d tried so hard to put up. The weight of your emotions came crashing down, and you finally gave in, collapsing against him as the tears spilled over.

Your hands gripped his shirt tightly, your body shaking with quiet sobs as he held you close, his arms strong and steady around you. “I hate you,” you mumbled weakly, though there was no real malice behind the words.

He chuckled softly, kissing the top of your head. “I know. I know, I would hate me too.”

You didn’t respond, too exhausted and overwhelmed to say anything more. And as he continued to hold you, whispering quiet reassurances and pressing soft kisses to your hair, you realized something.

You had missed him so much.

You woke up the next morning to the weight of Ni-ki draped over you, clinging to you like a koala. His arms were wrapped tightly around your waist, and his head was squished against your chest, his messy hair tickling your chin. You blinked groggily, taking in the sight of him, so peaceful in his sleep.

For a moment, you just stared, letting yourself savor the quiet moment. There was something in the way he held you, like you were the one thing in his life he couldn’t let go of.

Unable to resist, you slowly brought your hand up to his hair, carding your fingers through the soft strands. He responded immediately, leaning into your touch and groaning sleepily, his grip on you tightening as if to say, don’t stop.

You smiled faintly, your fingers continuing to glide through his hair. It was moments like these that made it so hard to stay mad at him, to even consider walking away. But the thoughts you’d had the night before still lingered in the back of your mind, refusing to let you rest.

After a while, you decided you needed to get up. Slowly and carefully, you began the long and arduous task of peeling Ni-ki off you. It was no easy feat—he grumbled in protest, his arms tightening around you whenever you tried to wiggle free. He buried his face further into your chest, muttering something incoherent, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes affectionately.

“Ni-ki,” you whispered softly, brushing his hair back. “Let go.”

He groaned but didn’t budge, his grip still firm. It took several more minutes of gently prying his arms away and untangling yourself from his hold, but eventually, you managed to slip out from under him.

As you stood, you glanced back at him. He had turned onto his side, still deep in sleep, his hair a mess and his lips slightly parted. He looked so carefree, so unlike the Ni-ki you usually saw—guarded, calculating, always one step ahead.

You sighed quietly and turned away, grabbing your clothes and getting dressed before quietly slipping out of the room. You needed some time to think, to process everything.

Your feelings for Ni-ki weren’t the issue. You loved him—of that, you were certain. But loving him wasn’t the same as being able to handle the life that came with him. The secrecy, the danger, the constant wondering if he was okay or if you’d ever see him again. It was exhausting, and it scared you more than you wanted to admit.

And so, you left the room, leaving Ni-ki behind in his slumber. You needed to figure out what you really wanted, what this relationship meant for you both.

The irony of it all wasn’t lost on you. Ni-ki had spent so long running, leaving you behind to think and worry in his absence. Now, it was your turn to take the space you needed—even if only for a little while.

And so, you took the space you needed. After everything, it was your turn to vanish—not completely, of course. You still had responsibilities to attend to, places to be, and tasks to complete. But for Ni-ki, you became a ghost.

You didn’t answer his calls. Each time your phone buzzed with his name on the screen, you ignored it, staring at the device until it fell silent. The texts he sent—long, short, questioning, apologetic—went unanswered. Even when he rang your doorbell, you couldn’t bring yourself to open it. You’d sit silently inside, barely breathing, until you heard the sound of him leaving.

At work, you made sure to disappear when he showed up, ducking into the breakroom or slipping out the back. At school, you avoided the places you thought he might look for you. When you did catch glimpses of him—standing at a distance, scanning the crowd, his expression filled with frustration and concern—you’d slip away before he could see you.

You told yourself it wasn’t forever. That this was what you needed, a chance to clear your head and sort through the storm of emotions swirling inside you. But each time you saw his name pop up on your phone or caught sight of him searching for you, a pang of guilt struck you deep.

Still, you couldn’t bear to face him right now. You couldn’t look into those eyes, so full of emotion, and risk falling apart all over again. You needed this time. Time to figure out if you could handle everything that came with loving someone like Ni-ki.

And so, you stayed hidden, even as part of you ached to open the door, to pick up the phone, to let him explain everything. Because, despite the distance you’d created, you couldn’t stop missing him.

Ni-ki wasn’t the kind of person to give up easily, though. And you knew, deep down, that this wouldn’t be the end. Not for him, not for you.

But what could you really do when someone like Ni-ki was your boyfriend? It was only a matter of time before he got to you again.

It happened when you least expected it—again. You were outside, tossing a bag of trash into the dumpster, then, like a shadow slipping out of nowhere, Ni-ki appeared behind you.

"Why are you avoiding me?" he asked.

You froze, your hand still gripping the edge of the dumpster. Slowly, you turned to face him. He looked the same as always, but his eyes were different. They weren’t filled with their usual confidence or amusement. Instead, they looked tired. Frustrated.

“I wasn’t avoiding you,” you muttered, though the words felt weak even to your own ears.

Ni-ki scoffed softly, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Sure, you weren’t.”

You glanced around, as if looking for an escape route, but you knew there wasn’t one. Not from him. "What do you want, Ni-ki?" you asked, crossing your arms over your chest defensively.

He took a step closer, and you instinctively took one back. "I want you to stop avoiding me," he said. His tone wasn’t angry, but there was an edge to it, a quiet insistence. "You’ve been ignoring me for days. Do you think I wouldn’t notice?"

"Maybe I wanted you to notice," you shot back, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

Ni-ki tilted his head, studying you with those dark, piercing eyes. "So, what? You wanted me to chase you?"

"I wanted space!" you snapped, your voice louder now. "I needed time to think, Ni-ki. About us. About this." You gestured vaguely between the two of you, your frustration bubbling to the surface. "You can’t just keep vanishing and showing up whenever you feel like it. That’s not fair to me."

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. The silence hung heavy between you, broken only by the distant sound of a car passing by. Then he stepped closer again, and this time, you didn’t move away.

“I know,” he said quietly, his voice softer now. “I messed up. I should’ve told you what was going on. I just... I didn’t know how.”

“You didn’t know how?” you repeated, your anger still simmering but mingled now with disbelief. “You didn’t know how to tell your girlfriend where you were going or why you disappeared for a month?”

“I thought I was protecting you,” he admitted, his eyes dropping to the ground for a moment before meeting yours again. “I thought... if I kept you out of it, you’d be safe.”

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “Safe? Do you know how scared I was when you disappeared? How much worse it made everything when those guys showed up and—” Your voice cracked, and you quickly stopped, swallowing hard.

Ni-ki’s jaw clenched, his hands tightening into fists at his sides. “I know. And I hate that you had to go through that. But I came back, didn’t I?”

"That’s not the point, Ni-ki," you said, your voice quieter now. “It’s not just about coming back. It’s about not leaving me in the dark in the first place.”

He took another step forward, close enough now that you could feel the warmth of him in the cold night air. “I’m trying,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t... I don’t know how to do this. The whole relationship thing. But I’m trying.”

You stared at him, your anger still lingering but softening slightly at the vulnerability in his voice.

“You’re not making it easy,” you muttered.

He smirked faintly, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “When have I ever made anything easy?”

Despite yourself, you almost smiled at that. But you weren’t ready to let him off the hook just yet. “This is serious, Ni-ki,” you said, your tone firm. “If you want this to work, you have to stop shutting me out. I can’t do this if you’re just going to disappear every time things get messy.”

He nodded slowly, his expression more serious now. “I know. And I promise, I’ll do better. Just... don’t give up on me. On us.”

You hesitated, studying him closely. He looked sincere, but you couldn’t help wondering if that would be enough. Still, as much as you wanted to stay mad, a part of you wanted to believe him. To give him another chance.

“I’m not promising anything,” you said finally, your voice softer now. “But... I’ll think about it.”

Ni-ki smiled faintly, and for the first time, it felt genuine. “That’s all I’m asking for.”

You took the time you needed, allowing the days to pass slowly as you sorted through your thoughts. It wasn’t easy, and there were moments when you doubted whether anything would change.

After a week of space, you decided it was time. You texted Ni-ki, asking him to come over to talk. You weren’t sure what the conversation would look like, but you knew you couldn’t keep pushing him away, and you couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t.

When the doorbell rang later that evening, your heart was pounding in your chest. You hadn’t seen him in days, and the anticipation was nerve-wracking. You took a deep breath before walking over and opening the door.

There he was, standing on your doorstep with that familiar hoodie, his hands shoved into his pockets, and his expression unreadable. But there was something different in the way he stood—more uncertain, almost... nervous.

You studied him for a moment, unsure of where to begin. But then, his eyes met yours, and he spoke first.

“You wanted to talk?” he asked quietly.

You nodded, stepping aside to let him in. “Yeah. We need to.”

The air between you felt thick with everything that had been left unsaid, but neither of you moved until you both sat down in the living room. Ni-ki took a seat across from you, his hands resting on his knees, his gaze focused on the floor for a moment before meeting your eyes again.

“I know I messed up,” he began, his voice low. “I hurt you. I made you feel like you couldn’t trust me, and I... I’m sorry for that. I never meant to make you feel abandoned or like you didn’t matter.”

You looked at him, your heart aching at the sincerity in his voice, but the sting of his absence still lingered. “I just don’t understand why you thought it was okay to just disappear. To leave me without any explanation. I’ve been asking myself that over and over,” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “I know you think you were protecting me, but... it felt like you were shutting me out. Like I wasn’t even part of your world.”

Ni-ki ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in the way he sighed. “I get that. I don’t know what I was thinking. I should’ve communicated with you, let you know what was going on. But I didn’t. I kept everything to myself because I thought I was doing the right thing... keeping you safe.”

You shook your head. “But that’s not how a relationship works, Ni-ki. You don’t just keep secrets. You don’t disappear without saying anything. And you can’t keep making decisions without me.”

“I know,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I messed up, and I’m not proud of it. But I’m here now. I’m here because I want to fix this. I want to make things right with you. I know I’ve hurt you, and I can’t take that back, but I’ll do anything to prove that I care. That I’m not just using you.”

His words hit you hard, and for a moment, you looked down at your hands, unsure of what to say. You didn’t want to keep holding on to the anger and the hurt, but it was hard to shake off the feeling of betrayal.

“I don’t know, Ni-ki,” you said quietly. “I’m not sure if I can just forget what happened. It’s not just about you disappearing—it’s everything that came with it. The way you treated me like I was some kind of afterthought.”

Ni-ki moved closer to you, his hand gently reaching out for yours. “I understand. And I don’t expect you to forget. But I need you to know that I want to be here. I want to make things right. I love you. And I’ll prove it every day.”

You hesitated, still holding on to the doubts and the pain. But his hand in yours felt like a lifeline, and for the first time in a long while, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe things could be different. Maybe he could change.

“I don’t know if it will be easy,” you said softly, “but I’ll try. I’ll try if you promise me that you’ll be honest with me. That you won’t keep things from me anymore.”

Ni-ki nodded, his grip tightening on your hand. “I promise. No more secrets.”

It felt surreal, the way things shifted after Ni-ki made that promise. He wasn’t just physically present—he was emotionally there too, in ways you hadn’t expected. The first thing you’d see when you woke up was him, his face relaxed in sleep, a hint of a smile at the corners of his lips as if he were content just being there with you. And the last thing you saw before sleep was him, his warm arms around you, ensuring that you were safe and cared for.

You noticed how he didn’t leave your side much. Whether it was at home, walking you to work, or even just sitting on the couch together, he made sure to be near you, always close enough to reassure you that he was there for good. There were no more of those long, unexplained absences. No more shadows lurking over the relationship. He was there. He was committed.

One evening, as you were sitting together on the couch, your curiosity got the better of you. It had been weeks since you’d noticed any signs of the heists he’d been involved in—no more late-night disappearances, no more mysterious meetings. You decided to ask him outright.

“Ni-ki... I’ve been meaning to ask,” you said, your voice tentative, “What happened to all those heists? All that... the stuff you used to do?”

He tensed slightly, his eyes flicking to yours before he took a slow breath. “I quit,” he said simply, the words carrying weight that took you by surprise.

“Wait, what?” You blinked, unsure if you’d heard him correctly. “You quit? Like, for real?”

Ni-ki nodded, a serious look in his eyes. “Yeah. I realized it wasn’t the life I wanted anymore. I don’t want to be that person who hides behind masks and lies. I don’t want to drag you into that world. I’ve done enough to screw things up already.”

You felt a rush of emotions—surprise, confusion, and a strange sense of relief. He had quit? For you?

“You... you quit for me?” You whispered, almost unable to believe it.

He nodded again, reaching out to take your hand in his. “For both of us. I’m serious about us, about you. I don’t want to lose you. So I’m going to get a real job, a legitimate one. I want a future with you, and that’s not going to happen if I’m still out there, risking everything.”

The sincerity in his voice was undeniable, and as you looked into his eyes, you saw the truth in every word. Ni-ki had always been unpredictable, but in this moment, he seemed more grounded, more determined than you had ever seen him.

You took a deep breath, the weight of it all sinking in. “I... I don’t know what to say,” you admitted softly.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Ni-ki said, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “I just wanted you to know. I want to build something real with you. And I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make that happen.”

Ni-ki had been reckless and wild in the past, but now, here he was—showing up for you in ways that were more meaningful than any flashy gesture or promise could convey.

“Okay,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “Okay. I believe you.”

And that was all you needed to hear from him.

You leaned into him, letting yourself relax into the warmth of his embrace, feeling the weight lift off your shoulders.

You were both living in the moment, together.

a/n: this is the last chapter of this fic :) hope you all enjoyed it and stayed for the journey <3

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reiding-writing · 3 months ago

Text

ECHOES OF SILENCE — SPENCER REID!

digging too deep into something you’re not directly involved in can have consequences.

s1!spencer x fem!reader | mystery | 3.3k | event masterlist.

| part one. | part two. | part three. |

main masterlist.

a/n — part two babyyyy, with a few cameos for my babes, iykyk

You sit in the back of the lecture hall, but you’ve stopped listening.

The words from the professor dissolve into the noise of your own thoughts, thoughts that loop in a quiet, panicked hum.

It’s been weeks since you first brought up your theory—missing college girls, all within a radius too tight to be coincidence—and still, no one’s taken you seriously. A joke, they said. A distraction from exams, group projects, and campus parties.

The friends who once nodded when you talked now roll their eyes, turning their backs on you with easy laughter when you bring it up. Even your roommate, who had seemed concerned at first, has started to shut the door a little too firmly when you try to explain the latest detail you’ve uncovered.

Outside, the October air bites, but you hardly notice. You move through campus like a ghost, just as unnoticed as the girls who disappeared.

There's something wrong here, you can feel it—but nobody else seems to care. The administration deflected your concerns with vague reassurances about “young adults finding their own path.” The words were polished, as if they’d been spoken a hundred times before.

When you left their office, you couldn’t help but wonder if they had a protocol for when girls like that vanished.

You’re walking back to your dorm when your phone buzzes, Spencer’s voice echoing through the receiver. The relief is immediate; at least he believes you. You answer, and his voice, calm but strained, fills the silence.

“I’ve been looking into the disappearances,” he says without preamble. “It’s not just your local colleges.”

Your pulse quickens. You stop mid-step, scanning the quad as if something will jump out at you. “What do you mean?”

“We’ve connected similar cases in colleges further out in the city. Girls, vanishing from Maryland, Strayer—there’s a pattern. The BAU is looking at it now.”

You knew it. That cold knot in your stomach tightens further as he continues.

“We’re talking about a coordinated effort. Someone, or a group, is targeting them. It’s not random.”

The world feels sharper, the shadows darker, like something is lurking just out of sight. “Why hasn’t anyone said anything?”

Spencer sighs. “It’s under the radar. They know how to blend in, make it look like the girls left voluntarily, but the timeline doesn’t fit. Whoever this is, they’re careful. But they’re getting bolder. You were right to be worried.”

You swallow hard, but your throat is dry. This was more than you’d imagined. “So, what do we do?”

His voice lowers. “You need to be careful. We’re dealing with something bigger than just local authorities. The BAU is moving, but these people are professionals. If they know someone’s onto them…”

You don’t need him to finish the sentence. It hangs in the air between you, as heavy as the threat itself. You look around again, this time truly seeing the faces of the students passing by. Any one of them could be next. Or maybe it’s already too late for some.

—

The scent of stale coffee fills the local police department’s waiting area, mixing with the sharp tang of disinfectant. You sit across from Spencer, flipping through a stack of missing person reports he’s been able to pull.

The faces of the girls stare back at you from the pages—smiling in yearbook photos, carefree and young. It’s hard to reconcile the images with their fates, with the cold emptiness that follows their names and the faint, scribbled notes: last seen at a party, disappeared after a study group, no signs of forced entry.

You’re glad that Spencer agreed to let you in on the official investigation, unsure you’d be able to go about your daily life with that malingering thought in the back of your mind that any one of the girls you see on a day-to-day basis could be the next addition to your notebook, another number in the case. A statistic.

Spencer sets another file on the table between you, his brow furrowed in concentration. “We’ve got a disturbing amount of overlap here. Same age range, similar social circles. Most of them were last seen at crowded events.”

You nod, skimming through the details. You knew this was bad, but seeing it all laid out like this, in official reports, makes it more real. “They’re being targeted at parties,” you mutter, piecing it together aloud. “Whoever’s doing this knows exactly how to disappear them without raising any alarms.”

Just then, Detective Walker strides in. You recognise her as the officer you’d spoken to a few weeks ago when you first voiced your concerns. She was dismissive then, barely giving you five minutes before handing you off to a clerk. Now, her expression is more serious, though a hint of skepticism still lingers in her sharp eyes.

“So, you’re telling me these disappearances aren’t just coincidence?” Walker asks, dropping into the chair opposite you. She flips open one of the files but doesn’t really look at it. “I don’t know, kids come and go all the time. Some of them just don’t want to be found.”

Spencer, ever patient, sits up straight. “We’ve been tracking similar cases across multiple colleges across D.C. These girls didn’t just decide to leave. There are too many similarities. Someone is orchestrating this.”

Walker glances at you, then at Spencer. The silence stretches long enough for you to feel the doubt creeping in, but finally, she leans back, rubbing his jaw. “Alright. I’ll bite. Let’s say this is more than it looks. What exactly are we dealing with here?”

A flicker of relief passes between you and Spencer. Walker isn’t fully convinced yet, but at least she’s listening.

Over the next few days, you sit in on interviews with the families of the missing girls, listening as they recount the last time they saw their daughters.

Most of the stories are eerily similar: the girls were seen heading to a party or a study group, sometimes in crowded dorms, other times at social hangouts, but never alone.

No one ever saw them leave. No one noticed them slip away. One moment they were there, and the next, gone, like a shadow in the middle of a crowded room.

You start to notice something else too—the faint look of frustration in the families’ eyes. A few mothers mutter how the police didn’t take their worries seriously at first, how they’d been told their daughters were probably off with friends or boyfriends, that they’d come back eventually. But they never did.

And you sympathise, if you were frustrated by their negligence, you couldn’t even imagine how awful it felt for them.

Later that week, back at campus, you and Spencer sift through more data in the library’s back corner, out of sight of curious students. You’re exhausted, but you can’t stop, not now. The glow of your laptop screen reflects off your tired eyes as you comb through social media profiles and event listings. Then something clicks.

“There’s a circle,” you whisper, pulling up a list of campus groups, scanning for overlapping names and attendees. “They’re attending parties and groups in places that are all within an hour radius from each other.”

Spencer leans in, looking over your shoulder. “We need more data. There’s got to be something to lead us to a central location.”

Spencer rifles through his bag for a few seconds before pulling out his phone, failing in a number and letting it ring on speaker.

“Giver of all things pink and fluffy, how can I help you boy genius?”

You furrow your eyebrows at the response, but Spencer seems unfazed.

“Hey Garcia, we need access to everything connected to these campus events,” He explains, laying out your findings. “Emails, attendance lists, anything that could show us who’s been organising these things. There’s something bigger going on.”

The sound of keyboard taps comes over the phone, joined by a “Watch a true genius do her work,”

The line goes silent for a few second barr the keys, and then there’s a small tut from the woman on the other end. “Uh, there’s a student forum for D.C colleges, seems like they share addresses and dates for certain student events with each other, all of our linked events being mentioned at least once, seemingly by the same few individuals,”

There’s another small pause, and then an unhappy hum. “They just posted a new party listing today, I’ll send you the date and address,”

“Thanks Garcia,”

“No problem Wonder Boy, Penny G out!”

You glance at Spencer, a cold wave of dread hitting you as the phone goes dead. This is it, almost certainly proof that someone’s been hunting these girls. And worse, they’re not done.

Walker is going to have to believe you now.

—

The first message arrives late one night, just as you’re about to turn off your computer. It’s an email from handle that’s just a bunch of letters and numbers, but the subject line—STOP—is what catches your attention. You hesitate, thinking it might be spam, but something feels wrong. Against your better judgment, you click.

You don’t know what you’re getting into. Walk away, or you’ll end up like the others.

There’s no signature, no indication of who it’s from, but the message is clear. You stare at the words, your pulse suddenly racing, and glance around your darkened dorm room.

The blinds are drawn, but you feel exposed, as though someone’s watching you right now. Your hand hovers over the mouse, and instinctively, you delete the email, but the unease doesn’t go away. Instead, it festers, a growing knot in your gut.

You immediately call Spencer. His voice is groggy but sharpens when you tell him what happened. “I think they’re onto us,” You breathe out, voice heavy with concern.

You can hear the ruffle of what you assume to be his sheets as he sits up. “We need to be careful. You should stay somewhere else for a few days.”

You agree, but sleep doesn’t come easy. The next morning, you pack a small bag and move into a motel on the edge of town, one Spencer picked for its anonymity.

You don’t tell anyone where you’ve gone, not even your closest friends. It feels safer that way. Still, the tension clings to you like a second skin. You can’t help but check your surroundings every few minutes, scanning faces and cars, wondering if one of them belongs to the person who sent that message.

A few days later, you’re sitting across from Spencer in his car, watching the local diner where you’re set to meet Detective Walker. The message still lingers in your mind, but you push it aside as Walker arrives, sliding into the booth with a grim expression.

“We found something,” She says without any preamble, placing a thin file on the table between you and Spencer. “Her name’s Charlotte Francis. She went missing last year, same pattern—college student, disappeared after a party. Only, we found her. Alive.”

You and Spencer exchange a look. “Where is she now?” Spencer asks, leaning forward.

Walker sighs, rubbing the back of her neck. “She’s in a trauma center. We haven’t been able to get much out of her, but... what little she’s told us? It’s bad. Really bad.”

Your stomach turns. “What did she say?”

Walker hesitates before speaking. “She was taken by a group—an underground ring, we think it’s traffickers. They exploit them, sometimes for months, before they disappear completely. Charlotte’s one of the few we’ve ever recovered.”

You feel the blood drain from your face. Exploit. The word echoes in your mind, heavy with implications. “She’s... she’s still alive though, right? Can we talk to her?”

Walker nods, but there’s no relief in her expression. “She’s alive, but barely. She’s not the same girl who went missing. The trauma, the things they did to her... it broke her. She won’t even look people in the eye. Most of the time, she doesn’t speak.”

A chill runs down your spine. You’ve been chasing this story, desperate for answers, but now you wonder if you’re getting too close. The warning from the email comes rushing back—Walk away, or you’ll end up like the others.

Later that day, you and Spencer visit the trauma center where Charlotte is being kept. The place is sterile, too clean, and the soft hum of fluorescent lights only heightens your anxiety.

A nurse leads you to a small room where Charlotte sits on a bed, staring out the window, her face hollow and gaunt. Her eyes don’t flicker toward you when you enter, and she barely reacts when Spencer speaks to her in a gentle voice.

“Charlotte? My name’s Spencer Reid, I’m with the FBI, is it alright if I ask you some questions?”

She nods stuntedly, barely so much as a flicker of acknowledgment in her expression. “Charli,”

Spencer blinks. “Sorry?”

“Don’t— call me Charlotte, please,”

“Right,” Spencer nods softly, pulling up one of the plastic guest chairs and motioning for you to do the same. “Of course, that’s no problem,”

The conversation is slow, almost non-existent, and it’s only when you mention the parties that she turns her head slightly, just enough for you to see the pain etched deep into her expression.

“Don’t,” she whispers, her voice a fragile thread. “Don’t look for them. They’ll find you.”

The weight of her words settles over you like a suffocating blanket. You know now that this is bigger than you ever imagined—more dangerous, more personal. And suddenly, the fear isn’t just about finding out the truth. It’s about what happens when the truth finds you.

As you leave the trauma center, Spencer glances at you under his glasses, his face tense with unspoken worry. “We’re getting close, but this is going to get worse before it gets better. They’re watching us.”

You nod, but you can’t shake the feeling creeping over you. Charli’s warning plays over and over in your mind. How many girls have vanished without a trace? How many more are out there, waiting to be found—or worse, already gone?

And how long before you become one of them?

—

Garcia’s lead takes you to a club on the outskirts of the Georgetown campus, one of those places that’s just far enough from the city to feel unsafe but close enough to attract the usual crowd of college students.

The police, along with Spencer and his team from the BAU, have planned the sting carefully—too carefully, you hope. The club is being watched, plainclothes officers mixed into the crowd, waiting for the moment to strike.

You’re there too, disguised as just another student, your nerves stretched thin as you wait for the signal. The goal is simple: get enough evidence to take down the ring, and rescue anyone being held against their will.

Spencer parks a few blocks away, both of you agreeing it’s better to approach on foot. The night air is thick with humidity, and a nervous energy buzzes between you as you walk toward the pulsing neon sign that marks the entrance.

The club is loud, chaotic. Inside, bodies move in time with the beat of the music, students laughing and drinking without a care in the world. But your focus isn’t on the crowd. It’s on the VIP section in the back, cordoned off by a velvet rope and guarded by two burly men. Spencer’s sharp eyes catch it too.

“That’ll be where it’s happening,” he mutters, nodding toward the area. “It’s the only place private enough to be able to make someone disappear without being noticed.”

You and Spencer inch closer, blending in with the throng of students. You act casual, pretending to sip a drink you grabbed from the bar. Your heart pounds in your chest as you try to look everywhere at once, scanning faces, trying to recognize anyone who fits the descriptions from the missing girls’ reports.

Then you see it.

A girl—too young, too innocent-looking—escorted by one of the guards through the VIP entrance. She glances around, clearly out of place, and you see the flicker of hesitance in her eyes just before she disappears behind the curtain. You nudge Spencer, your throat tightening.

“Spencer,” you say, voice barely a whisper.

He nods, tense. “Let’s get closer, but keep your head down. We can’t risk getting caught.”

You push forward, slipping through the crowd until you’re just a few feet from the VIP area. Spencer’s already pulling out his phone, discreetly trying to snap photos for evidence.

But as you lean in to catch a glimpse beyond the curtain, your foot catches on something, and you stumble forward—just enough to attract the attention of the guard.

“Hey!” the guard shouts, immediately stepping toward you.

Panic surges through you. Spencer grabs your arm, pulling you back, and you both make a quick retreat, weaving through the crowd. The music swells around you, but it does nothing to drown out the sound of the guards following close behind.

Your heart races as you dart through the narrow hallway toward the back exit, Spencer right on your heels.

“We need to get out of here—now,” he hisses, eyes darting toward the door.

You don’t need to be told twice. Together, you shove through the exit, spilling into the dark alleyway. The door slams behind you, and you take the opportunity to breathe.

“Oh thank god,” You slap a hand over your chest as you look over your shoulder towards Spencer behind you.

Except he isn’t there.

“Spencer?” you question, voice echoing empty in the alleyway.

A cold wave of dread washes over you. You spin in place, the sounds of shouting fading into the background. “Spencer!” you call again, louder this time, but it’s no use.

The realisation hits you like a punch to the gut. He’s not here. And you’re alone.

“Okay, okay breathe,” You exhale heavily, motioning downwards with your hand to calm yourself down. “Just go back to the car, yeah,”

You nod to yourself as you walk back towards the main street, taking routine breaths in through your nose and out through your mouth.

“Everything’s good, we’re fine,” You’re not exactly sure you’re convincing yourself, but you don’t deny the relief you feel when you spot the light spilling from a street lamp around the corner.

And then someone grabs you from behind, yanking you backwards. A hand clamps over your mouth, and you struggle, kicking and thrashing, but it’s no use. A van door slams shut, and everything goes dark.

— part three !!

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #mgg #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid angst #criminal minds angst

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sayruq · 1 year ago

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Today was a big for the resistance. It seems people were right, they were waiting for Biden to leave so they can respond to the Ah Ahli Hospital massacre (the tweets below are arranged from the earliest reports I saw to the latest in order to show the coordination between different groups in different countries and the escalation)

Like I said, a big day for the resistance

And I see no signs of things slowing down

The Palestinian resistance has a list of objectives for this operation including damaging Israel's economy, forcing Israel citizens to flee the country, and slowing down immigration to Israel in the long term (because that leads to new settlements)

In other news, Biden's bloodlust was enough to disgust an arms dealer.

Several of his staff have also expressed discomfort with the administration's choices the past few weeks

Nonetheless, American troops have been told to prepare for deployment

The past few days I've been pointing out how Russia has gone from pro Israel to carefully neutral to increasingly critical of Israel and now we have this.

I'm so glad that Israel has continued to shoot itself on its foot by isolating itself from Russia and China

Russia is actively intervening to ensure that America and its allies can't use the Black Sea to counter the resistance in West Asia which is a big deal

So far, all signs are pointing to a regional conflict

This has to be a huge blow to Israel seeing so many countries, even a NATO nation, coming together to ensure that it can't annihilate Palestine.

More importantly, it shows that Palestine does not stand alone.

#palestine #free palestine #free gaza #gaza #colonialism #decolonisation

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mydearestbeloved · 1 month ago

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Chapter 21 [Draft]

Sung Jinwoo/Trial Player!Reader

CW:

Inspired by @circeyoru ‘s “Future Power Couple”

[Masterlist🦋✨️]

Jinwoo watched you closely as he and his shadows continued their meticulous task of destroying the ant eggs and any stragglers still lurking in the nest. His soldiers, as efficient as ever, moved like an unstoppable tide, bolstered by the shimmering aura of your butterflies. Among the usual flurry of colors, Jinwoo's attention was drawn to one distinct silver—the butterfly that previously hovered near Hunter Cha, never straying far.

He frowned slightly, wracking his brain.

What was its name again? Till? No, that’s not it. Trix? Close, but no. Tick-tack-toe? Wait, what the hell? How does she even remember all of their names in the first place?" He huffed quietly, shaking his head.

He saw you gently cradle the silver butterfly in one hand, a soft smile gracing your lips as the other hand rummaged through your inventory. With practiced ease, you summoned several items that floated around you, suspended in midair. Jinwoo recognized the shimmer of a polished silver gem and the ornate design of a potion bottle filled with liquid that shifted hues between vibrant purple and fiery orange-yellow. The faint golden glow illuminated the items as if presenting them like treasures.

To his surprise, the objects dissolved into a flurry of white butterflies—tinier, ethereal creatures that resembled particles of light more than living beings. They swirled around the silver butterfly before settling into the air above the ground in front of you. Jinwoo squinted as the radiant light seemed to change shape.

When the glow subsided, he found himself staring at a kneeling figure—a woman clad in a ensemble of black and white. The design was elegant and sleek, resembling the human form Red had taken when Jinwoo first met her, yet distinct in its details. The most noticeable feature was the overlay of silver butterfly wings extending behind her, creating an effect akin to an outer skirt or flowing coattails.

Jinwoo watched as you reached out and patted the woman’s head with a fond smile.

“You’ve done well, Trick,” you said softly, your voice full of warmth.

Ah, so that’s its—her name, Jinwoo mused, filing it away in his memory.

---

Later, you watch as Jinwoo summoned the former Ant King and officially welcomed him into his legion by bestowing upon him the name Beru. The newly minted shadow bowed before his master with a deep sense of reverence, his antennae twitching in anticipation.

As you approached, Jinwoo nodded at you in acknowledgment—a subtle greeting that you returned with ease—then turned back to the task of coordinating his soldiers. To your surprise, however, Beru bowed deeply in your direction.

You raised an eyebrow, a flicker of curiosity passing over your face. “Why do you bow to me?” you asked, your tone calm but inquisitive. “I’m not your master, nor was I the one who defeated you.”

Beru straightened slightly, his antennae twitching as if considering how best to respond. “I can feel,” he began, his voice measured and polite, “that My Liege already holds My Lady in the highest regard.” His antennae twitched again, as if punctuating the statement, and you caught the faintest shimmer of admiration in his glowing eyes.

You blinked, taken aback. Sure, some of your children called you as such, but the title “My Lady” straight from Jinwoo’s shadow soldiers was brand new, and the way Beru said it carried an odd mixture of respect and familiarity. Is this something Jinwoo instructed, or is it something Beru decided on his own? you wondered.

Though you had read the manhwa, you were unused to this side of Beru—polished, deferential, and subdued. Was it because he’s only just been awakened as Jinwoo’s soldier? you thought. You remembered how in the manhwa, Beru often showered Jinwoo with flowery praises and dramatic declarations. This version of him, freshly reborn, was a bit different.

You were about to question Beru further, curiosity piqued, when a sudden flash of silver and hints of orange-yellow entered your vision.

---

"Is she… hissing at him?" Jinwoo asked incredulously, his eyes narrowing in disbelief as the odd scene before him unfolded. His gaze flickered from the silver-haired woman—your butterfly, Trick, now manifest in her humanoid form—to the tall figure holding her aloft like a squirming misbehaved cat.

Red, your other butterfly and Trick’s elder sister in a way, stood impassively, her expression unreadable as always. The height difference made the whole situation look absurdly comedic. Trick’s thrashing, her hands clawing at the air and her feet kicking, only added to the spectacle.

"She’s definitely hissing," you confirmed with a sigh, pressing your fingers to the bridge of your nose. The frustration in your voice betrayed how accustomed you were to such antics.

Jinwoo’s gaze flickered back to Beru, who stood behind him with his head slightly cocked to the side, the faintest wisps of black mist curling off parts of his neck. Trick's claws—or whatever equivalent her humanoid form had—had evidently done a number on the Shadow Ant. Her orange-streaked yellow eyes glowed with such intensity that Jinwoo couldn’t help but wonder if she was on the verge of spontaneous combustion. If Trick had chosen to use a beast-like form instead of this human one, Jinwoo imagined she’d be foaming at the mouth by now, her silver hair—fur? Whatever—would be bristling, her fangs bared, and perhaps a low growl vibrating through the air.

"Honestly, it’s like dealing with squabbling children." you muttered under your breath, though your gaze softened as it landed on Trick. The bond you shared with your "children" made their emotions as transparent to you as an open book. You knew Trick’s rage wasn’t born of whimsy—it had a cause, one tied to her fiercely protective instincts.

Jinwoo raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching in amusement. "You tell me. Did Beru step on her toes or something?"

Jinwoo looked between Trick and Beru, his lips twitching as if suppressing a laugh. “Beru,” he said finally, fixing his soldier with a questioning stare. “Do you have any idea why she’s reacting like this?”

The towering ant shifted uncomfortably, his usual air of unshakable confidence dampened. “If I may inquire, My Lady,” Beru began—Again with that, your brows slightly furrowed—his deep voice uncharacteristically measured, “what grievance have I caused to incur such wrath from your esteemed creation?” His antennae twitched as if nervously seeking your approval.

You turned your attention back to Trick, who was still glaring daggers at Beru, and let out a long sigh. “Well…” You trailed off, carefully choosing your words. "It’s not about you, exactly."

"Then what is it about?" Jinwoo chimed in, crossing his arms and leaning slightly to the side for a better view of Trick’s furious expression.

You hesitated before answering, not quite sure whether to laugh or groan at the absurdity of it all. "You hurt her favorite friend," you finally explained.

Jinwoo frowned, tilting his head. “Her favorite friend?”

“Hae-In,” you clarified, crossing your arms and shooting Trick a knowing look. “Trick has a soft spot for her. She’s been watching over her ever since we met her. Seeing you injure her during the raid must’ve left a… lasting impression.”

Beru’s posture straightened, though the faintest trace of guilt crept into his expression. “Ah,” he said quietly. "I see. My actions during my life as an ant appear to have caused unintended grief. For this, I offer my sincerest apologies, to My Lady and her esteemed creations.”

You only sighed, still not getting used to Beru’s…politeness to you. Jinwoo raised an eyebrow, clearly amused, but said nothing as the scene continued to unfold. Red, meanwhile, silently tilted her head, her question clear even without words. You caught her gaze and waved her off. “It’s fine, Red. Let her go.”

Red nodded and gently set Trick down. The moment her feet touched the ground, Trick darted toward Beru like a missile. Before she could reach her target, however, she froze mid-air, a faint golden aura wrapping around her as your hand glowed softly. You lifted her effortlessly, the action reminiscent of a mother cat carrying her kitten by the scruff. Jinwoo let out a low chuckle at the sight, unable to help himself.

“Trick,” you called gently, your tone firm yet kind. Her glowing orange-silver eyes snapped to yours, and the fiery anger within them dimmed slightly. “I know you’re upset, but remember—Beru is one of Jinwoo’s shadows now. He’s not our enemy anymore.”

Trick’s lips pressed into a thin line, and though her arms crossed stubbornly, she offered no further resistance. Reluctantly, you lowered her to the ground.

“Good girl,” you said softly, patting her head. At your touch, Trick practically melted, leaning into your hand like a contented cat. Jinwoo could almost see the image of her butterfly form, wings glowing in delighted contentment.

"You’ve got an interesting way of keeping everyone in line," he remarked, his voice laced with amusement.

You shot him a dry look. "Says the guy with an army of shadows who jump at his every whim,"

He shrugged, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Touché.”

Beru stepped forward cautiously, bowing deeply. “My Lady, I assure you, I will strive to amend this misunderstanding and avoid offending your creation in the future."

You waved a dismissive hand, already tired of the situation. “Just avoid provoking her. She’s protective, that’s all.”

“Protective is an understatement,” Jinwoo muttered, earning himself another glare from you.

“Bad,” you chided Trick when she moved to lunge at Beru again. She froze instantly, her shoulders slumping as if your single word had deflated her entirely. Her lips trembled, and she whimpered like a scolded child, teary-eyed and all that.

Satisfied she wouldn’t try anything else, you turned back to Jinwoo. “Don’t push it,” you warned, your tone carrying a sharp edge.

Jinwoo raised his hands in mock surrender, though his smirk remained firmly in place. “Noted.”

---

"Do your best, My Child. Fool them to their deaths."

Jinwoo remembered the exact words you said to Trick when he ordered Beru to eliminate the rest of the ants, especially the ones that managed to escape the island’s perimeters.

As the cleanup of the ant colony continued, Jinwoo observed Trick in action. She commanded her silver siblings with ruthless efficiency, her abilities seamlessly complementing Beru’s as they tracked down and eliminated the remaining ants.

"For someone who was plotting Beru’s murder just moments ago, she works very well with him," Jinwoo remarked, his tone light as he glanced in your direction.

You didn’t miss a beat. “I taught all my children to separate work and personal grievances, thank you very much.”

“Uh-huh,” Jinwoo replied, the skepticism evident in his voice. His gaze shifted back to the battlefield, where a particularly large cluster of ants was being lured directly into Beru’s path, clearly overloading him with unnecessary targets.

Jinwoo smirked. "You sure about that?"

“She’s sending way too many ants toward him, isn’t she?”

"I'd appreciate it if you can tell her to stop, but...” Jinwoo drawled out with a grin.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, exasperation washing over you for the nth time today.

He chuckled, "Good thing my new soldier’s tough enough to handle her, huh?"

Before you could respond, the system’s obnoxiously cheerful tone chimed in.

[You lost this time, ‘Trial’ Player.]

You groaned, turning away, determined not to give Jinwoo and the system the satisfaction of seeing your frustration. As futile as it was, you continued to mutter under your breath.

“Damnit.”

---

Breaking News!

"5th Jeju Island Raid Ends with Unprecedented Results!"

4802 hunters in participation. 727 regular awakened mobilized. Of those, 46 awakened lost their lives, and 32 civilians sustained injuries—historically the lowest numbers for a raid of this magnitude!

Special Note: Flowers mysteriously appearing during the battle have left many intrigued. “What’s the deal with these flowers popping up out of nowhere?!” exclaimed one baffled netizen.

18 hunters announced immediate permanent retirement post-raid, citing personal reasons. Notably, Min Byung-Gyu, the esteemed Healer who returned from the brink of death, is among them. However, Hunter Min declined to comment further.

---

As the memorial service for the fallen Hunters drew to a close, Jinwoo lingered in the crowd to pay his respects. His expression was unreadable, a careful mask concealing the myriad of emotions beneath. He had done his part, both in the raid and in honoring the sacrifices of the deceased.

"I don’t know how you did it, but…" Baek Yoonho added after his previous statements to Jinwoo, voice thick with emotion. "Thank you. For saving him."

Jinwoo paused, his lips curling into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. "It’s not me you should be thanking for that," he replied simply, offering no further explanation, his tone laced with quiet conviction. Without waiting for a response, he turned to leave, leaving Baek Yoonho staring after him, puzzled but still thankful.

Jinwoo's gaze swept the crowd until his eyes landed on Cha Hae-In. She stood a short distance away and caught his eye, her expression warm as she mouthed a quiet, ‘Thank you.’ Jinwoo nodded once in acknowledgment, appreciating the sincerity in her unspoken words.

As his eyes continued to roam, they eventually found you, standing still among the mourners. Your posture was still and composed, a faintly distant look in your eyes as though you were seeing beyond the moment, even as your head bowed slightly in reverence. When you noticed his gaze, you met it briefly before closing your eyes and turning back to the solemn proceedings, making no effort to move or acknowledge him further. Jinwoo took it as a sign.

Alright, Jinwoo thought as he noticed the Association’s official approaching, informing him that Chairman Go Gunhee wishes to speak with him. I needed to talk with him too anyway, as he followed the official, his eyes flickered back to you one last time. Huh, for a fleeting moment, he allowed himself a small observation.

She looks good in black.

---

Jinwoo should’ve finished his talk with the Chairman by now.

You thought as you slowly made your way toward the edge of the memorial grounds. The crowd was thinning, the lingering sense of grief and loss still hung in the air, but it was something you had grown accustomed to in this world, where sacrifice and loss often overshadowed victory. You had done what you could. The lives lost had been honored, and those who had survived could move on, at least for a while.

Out of the corner of your vision, a butterfly caught your eye—its wings shimmered in hues of green, black, and silver as it fluttered through the mourners—the child you had tasked to keep watch over a certain healer. Now it circled nearby as if to confirm the man’s presence.

Though you hadn’t expected him to notice you.

What were the odds? For him, standing in the middle of the sea of mourners, to notice you in the far back-end?

Your gaze drifted in the direction it came from, from where you stood, your gaze locked with Min Byung-Gyu’s. Recognition flickered briefly in his eyes before he looked away, his expression carefully neutral. You mirrored his action, calmly turning and continuing on your path.

You trusted him—he had made his vow to stay silent about what had transpired in that strange, timeless space where the two of you had crossed paths. Still, his awareness of you felt like a ripple in still water, a detail you couldn’t entirely dismiss. Though, should Min Byung-Gyu ever stray from his promise, the system would intervene.

Just as you began to retreat into your thoughts, a familiar voice broke through.

"(Name)."

You turned to see Jinwoo approaching with his usual gait. And, as you fell into steps beside him, he slowed his pace to match yours.

"When are you free?" he asked, his tone casual but with an undertone of anticipation.

You only hummed, tilting your head slightly, indicating to him that you'd need a bit more context than that.

"For that dinner," Jinwoo clarified.

Oh. Your steps faltered briefly.

---

"Sir?!" Woo Jinchul's voice rose in panic as Chairman Go Gunhee suddenly collapsed to his knees. The aide was at his side in an instant, his hands steadying the older man as he gave him a reassuring pat on the arm.

His sharp mind momentarily dulled by a wave of overwhelming warmth that left him gasping, Go Gunhee only laughed lightly, dismissing his subordinate's concern with a wave of his hand. "My apologies, Jinchul," he said, his voice calm despite the situation. " These old bones are finally starting to show their age. "

"Chairman, this isn't something to brush off!" Jinchul protested, his grip firm as he helped the older man back to his feet, then to a nearby bench. The concern etched across his features was evident, his brow furrowed deeply as he assessed the chairman's condition.

"Sir, should I call for a medic? We can—"

"That won't be necessary," Go Gunhee interrupted gently but firmly, shaking his head.

However, Go Gunhee’s attention was no longer on his subordinate— his sharp, seasoned gaze fixed on the direction Hunter Sung Jinwoo had disappeared moments earlier. Or rather, where they had disappeared.

It was ancient, commanding, and unyielding. Like a fragment of an endless abyss brushing against his very soul.

—Kneel. You are in the presence of [][][] [][][][][][][].

The fragmented sensation lingered, a half-heard whisper reverberating in the depths of his consciousness. It wasn't the first time he had felt something like this, though the last occasion was buried in the annals of his long memory, far back when the world was still grappling with the sudden appearance of Gates.

Yet, the air still thrummed with a residual warmth, all-encompassing and unrelenting, an energy that felt simultaneously divine and otherworldly. It wasn’t Jinwoo’s presence that lingered this time. It was hers.

“Chairman?” Jinchul’s voice brought him back, laced with worry.

“Hmm,” Gunhee hummed in thought, forcing himself to focus. “Woo Jinchul,” he called, his voice steady but thoughtful.

"Sir?" The younger man straightened immediately, awaiting orders.

"Investigate the young woman who accompanied Hunter Sung today," the Chairman instructed, his tone firm despite the fatigue in his posture, his gaze still fixed on that same direction. "I believe I’ve seen her somewhere before. Perhaps in our records of Hunters."

Jinchul hesitated for only a moment before nodding. "Understood, sir. I’ll pull up all available data and cross-check our archives. Do you have any specific details that might help narrow the search?"

Gunhee's gaze remained, his thoughts distant. "No… but something tells me she isn’t someone we can overlook. There's an aura about her—" he paused, searching for the right words, "—similar to Hunter Sung, like she’s walked through storms most of us can't even imagine, though notably subtler."

Jinchul glanced toward that direction as well, though no trace of Jinwoo or his companion remained. "Do you believe she’s a threat, sir?"

"Threat?" Gunhee repeated softly. He tilted his head slightly, pondering the question. "No… not quite.”

“Let’s just say... it’s better to err on the side of caution.”

Jinchul's frown deepened as he processed the chairman’s words.

"I’ll begin the investigation immediately," Jinchul assured.

"Good," Gunhee said, finally tearing his gaze away. "Let me know as soon as you find anything."

"Yes, Sir," Jinchul replied, already mentally cataloging the resources he’d need to dive into such a search.

As Jinchul guided him toward the car, Go Gunhee couldn’t shake the lingering impression. For years, he had dedicated himself to understanding the dangers that plagued their world, studying Hunters, Gates, and the forces behind them. Yet here he was, feeling unsettled by the presence of one woman.

As they drove away, he couldn’t help but glance out the window, back toward the direction Jinwoo and the woman had gone.

What kind of secret was Sung Jinwoo hiding now?

End Note:

Unfinished Draft of [25/11/2024] -

#solo leveling imagine #solo leveling #only i level up #solo leveling x reader #sung jin woo x reader #sung jinwoo x reader #jinwoo sung x reader #sung jinwoo #solo leveling jinwoo #sung jin woo #yandere sung jinwoo #solo leveling fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #reader insert #x reader #fem reader #female reader

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nanenna · 11 months ago

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Title: The Parent Trap Fandoms: Batman (DC Comics) and Danny Phantom Ships: None AUs: Demon Twins Warnings: Character injury, discussions of death.

Summary: It was just an ordinary night on patrol until...

“We need an evac,” Dick said, cutting the chatter off, “bird down.”

“Spoiler, you’re the closest to the cave. Nightwing, who’s with you?” Barb asked, “And how bad is the injury?”

“Robin,” Dick replied with some confusion before adding on with confidence, “a leg injury, we’re pretty sure it’s broken.”

“Robin?” Tim couldn’t help blurting out, looking over at Damian next to him, perched on his bike in full Robin costume. “But here’s right here, with me.”

---

Damian had been acting strange for the week or so. Rather, Robin had been acting strange for the last week. Not many people actually lived full time in the manor anymore, but everyone agreed that during the day he was his usual self. During patrols, however, he was simply a little… off. Like tonight for instance: Batman was away from Gotham on official Justice League business and Nightwing had agreed to cover his usual patrol route; normally Robin would tag along with Nightwing, giving the excuse that he needed to make sure Dick did the route correctly while everyone knew the demon brat really just wanted to spend more time with his favorite brother. But tonight…

“I will be joining you on your case, Drake.”

“You will?” Tim asked skeptically. Dick had already suited up and left, yet instead of scrambling to go catch up here Damian was, already all suited up, demanding to join Tim of all people.

“You are doing a stake out for street racers, correct? What will you do when they inevitably split to lose you?”

He sadly had a point, having someone else there would help. “Are you going to stab me?”

Robin didn't say anything, simply stood there and stared Tim down.

After standing there for a full minute, Tim sighed and headed for the vehicle bay, Robin hot on his heels. Without another word they donned helmets and slung legs over their bikes. Weird, but not unheard of, just another thing that was a little off. Not that Tim was entirely unhappy, he wanted a chance to observe Damian’s behavior. Even if he thought Dick was more likely to get Damian to open up.

…

And Tim was bored. The first half of patrol was quiet and uneventful, the street racers hadn’t shown up at their usual time/place yet, and Damian hadn’t said a damn thing the whole night. It’d just been the two of them riding around, not finding anything that needed their attention, and just being… normal. At least the usual chatter from the others was there to keep him company.

“We need an evac,” Dick said, cutting the chatter off, “bird down.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Spoiler, you’re the closest to the cave. Nightwing, who’s with you?” Barb asked, “And how bad is the injury?”

“Robin,” Dick replied with some confusion before adding on with confidence, “a leg injury, we’re pretty sure it’s broken.”

“Robin?” Tim couldn’t help blurting out, looking over at Damian next to him, perched on his bike in full Robin costume. “But here’s right here, with me.” The shadows around them grew deeper, seemed to sharpen.

“What? No, I’m looking right at him.”

“Well so am I!”

“I’ve got your cams up and… well shit,” Barb murmured.

“Oracle,” Damian? Robin? Some imposter? said into the quiet comms, a hand up to his helmet, “send me Nightwing’s location.”

“Robin,” Oracle started, only to be interrupted.

“We’re in sector 36,” Damian? Robin? Some imposter? replied, going so far as to give longitude and latitude coordinates and a description of the building roof they’re on.

“Copy that,” Damian? Robin? Some imposter? said before revving his bike’s engine and taking off.

Tim would never admit to nearly losing him due to sheer shock. Too busy screaming “What the fuck” in his own head to remember he needed to follow, but follow he did. This… this might explain Damian’s strange behavior over the past couple weeks. If there was an imposter running around with them, but they would have surely noticed, right?

“We can’t have everyone abandoning their patrols!” Barb said in clear frustration. Heard clearly because the chatter was still gone, nothing but dead silence. You would think everyone would be demanding answers, peppering the Robins with non-stop questions. Hell, Tim wanted to, but he was too busy keeping his bike under him as he chased after his Robin.

“Red Robin and I are on motorcycles,” Damian? Robin? Some imposter? told Barb, “which means we have the small vehicle first aid kits, including analgesics, splints, and extra bandages.”

“We could use the splints,” Dick said faintly.

“And doing first aid before evac arrives means less time faffing about once Spoiler arrives.”

Tim nearly crashed, barely righting his bike. To hear Damian’s voice say “faffing about” was just… weird. Does that mean Tim’s Robin was the imposter?

“You all are faffing about right now,” Damian? Robin? Some imposter? grumbled before hissing.

“Stay still,” Dick chided.

Okay, so maybe “faffing” was a phrase Damian had recently learned from a classmate or something, Tim sure didn’t know. And oh thank god, they must have arrived. Damian? Robin? Some imposter? was parked on the sidewalk, helmet already off and just pulling the field kit from the bike’s storage. He didn’t even spare Tim a glance, simply looked up at the very tall building, looked down at his grapple, shrugged, put the grapple away, and then lifted off the ground and into the air.

“Shit,” Tim said softly but with feeling.

“What?” Barb asked, clearly very tense.

“I think my Robin was the imposter, he just flew up the building. Like Kryptonian flew.” Is this Jon? Were he and Damian pulling a Bruce and Clark? Except it couldn’t be, Jon had started packing on muscles while Damian was still in the lanky growing-taller-before-filling-out stage.

“Really, akhi?” Damian? Robin? Some imposter? asked in exasperation.

“Hey, the jig is well and truly up at this point,” Damian? Robin? Some imposter? replied.

Okay, that was really weird to hear in Damian’s voice. And oh wait, maybe Tim should get up there too.

“Oh shit, there really is two of them!” Dick said in shock. “Uh… hello there… other Robin?”

“Hello Nightwing, I brought the kit. I…” Damian paused, then sighed into the comm, “akhi, what did you do?”

Damian tsked, “Nothing for you to worry about.”

“Your leg is broken!” Damian yelled.

“Did you see that with your x-ray vision?” Damian asked.

“Contrary to popular belief, I’m not Kryptonian,” Damian replied. “I don’t have x-ray vision.”

“Sure sound Kryptonian,” Tim muttered under his breath. The Robin that flew had slipped into a faint Midwestern drawl that reminded him of Clark.

“Can you just give me the kit?” Dick asked both warily and wearily.

“Right, yes. Here.”

Tim had made it onto the roof by that point, just in time to watch one of the Robins hand over the kit to Nightwing before kneeling next to the other Robin, who had his leg stretched out in front of him while he sat half propped up on his elbows. The laying down Robin (the real one? The one that hasn’t shown any meta powers yet, anyway. Is one of them the real Robin or were they both imposters?) let himself fall fully on his back and held a hand out. The meta(?) Robin kneeled next to him and took his hand. “You’re going to be okay.”

“I am more worried about you, you’re not used to this.”

“Yeah, normally I’m the only one getting hurt, and I usually don’t have bones when that happens.” Imposter Robin laughed at that.

“What the fuck?” Tim said under his breath, what does that mean?

“Focus,” Dick chided as Tim came to join him in tending to Damian’s(?) injury.

“Batcopter ETA five minutes,” Barb said. “Agent A has the medbay prepped.”

Imposter Robin flinched at that. Odd.

“Focus,” Dick hissed. “Save the mystery for after we get our downed bird home.”

Tim almost pointed out they couldn't be sure either Robin was even the real one, but a scathing look from Dick that burned even through the domino white outs had Tim snapping his mouth shut. Instead he nodded and set about helping Dick set and splint Robin's leg.

Steph arrived right on time, between Dick, imposter Robin, and Tim they got the real(?) Robin loaded onto the batcopter. Then the imposter pulled something from his costume and tossed it at Dick.

“Keys?” Dick asked.

“We gotta get Robin's bike back to the cave somehow.” He hopped into the batcopter and settled next to the injured Robin.

Dick held out the keys, “And as Robin shouldn’t-”

“No,” the imposter interrupted. “I’m not leaving him.”

Seems it was Tim’s turn to be the voice of reason. He put a hand on Dick’s shoulder, “Robin trusts him, we’ll meet them back at the cave in a minute.” If the injured Robin even was the real Damian, if the imposter didn’t use his unknown powers to escape, if any slew of unpredictable situations. Holy hell, Tim could see why Bruce was so paranoid about knowing everything about everyone. He’d be in the middle of three panic attacks and an existential crisis on top of a heart attack if he were here right now. But he wasn’t, thankfully. Instead Tim pulled Dick away from the batcopter so Steph could take back off and head to the cave.

Soon Dick and Tim were on their respective bikes, Nightwing looking ridiculous on Robin’s candy apple red paint job, and were zooming through the streets at a pace that was while fast still gave Tim time to actually think. He went back over everything the two Robins had said since Nightwing had called in for an evac. And then it hit him.

“Akhi.”

“What about it?” Dick asked.

“It’s what they called each other.”

“Brother,” Cass added in her soft voice.

“Right, in Arabic. They called each other brother. And recently Robin told us about his twin brother.”

“Are you telling us that Robin’s twin brother came back from the dead and decided to just… join us on patrol?” Dick asked in disbelief.

“He told us several weeks ago, and has been acting odd on patrol for nearly two weeks now. If when he told us was when he found out, or at least started planning this, then they had a few weeks for Robin to give his twin a crash course on us before pulling this stunt.”

There was muffled laughter in the comms, but Tim wasn’t sure who.

“But why?” Oracle asked.

“A prank?” Dick asked.

“A test of some kind,” Tim said in a monotone. There was a double tap on the comm, Cass’s form of nonverbal agreement.

“The batcopter has arrived back at the cave,” Oracle informed them. Everyone else grew quiet, waiting for whatever was about to happen to happen.

“... -nk went too far,” Damian (or his twin?) was saying into the comm.

“TT, it did not,” Damian replied.

“You couldn’t taste their emotions,” okay that was the twin, and what a weird way to phrase that, “they were really scared.”

“You like the taste of fear.”

Wow, Damian, really not helping with how creepy your long dead twin is being.

“Well yeah, obviously, it’s delicious. That doesn’t mean it’s okay to go around purposefully scaring your family.”

Fear is delicious?!

“What does it matter? As you said, ‘the jig is up’ and the prank is over. We will have to explain ourselves when the others arrive.”

“Others like me?” Steph asked cheerfully.

“Great, time for the great bat interrogation,” the twin said with exactly zero enthusiasm.

“Not until Master Damian has been seen to,” Alfred said. Tim could just see the raised eyebrow.

Tim tuned the rest out as those actually in the cave set about the logistics of getting Damian moved to the medbay.

“He can taste fear?” Tim asked incredulously.

“You know as much as the rest of us,” Dick said back.

“Does that make him an empath? He said he’s not Kryptonian, would that make his power suite closer to a Marian? Wait, neither Talia nor Bruce have the meta gene, how’d he even get powers?”

“Maybe he got them from the Lazarus Pits?”

There was a snort in the comms, “Then why didn’t I get powers?”

“Hood? What’re you doing on our comms?” Dick sounded far too delighted.

“I have an alert set up for whenever your chatter stops, it’s always a bad sign.”

“Fair enough, you heading to the cave to meet the demon brat’s long lost twin?”

There was a scoff from Jason, “Of course!”

“Everyone’s headed for the cave,” Oracle said with a tone of defeat.

“Stuck in ops?” Dick asked.

“Well someone has to keep an ear on things while the rest of you get to go have fun.”

“We’ll keep our comms on.”

“You don’t have a choice.”

Tim and Dick both laughed at that. Fortunately they arrived back at the cave at that point, quickly parking their bikes and all but running over to the medbay. Steph was standing just outside the door, clearly keeping an eye on things while Alfred and the twin fussed over Damian. Tim and Dick went to go join Steph at the door, none of them willing to risk Alfred’s wrath should they get in his way. Cass joined them shortly after, all four staring as Alfred finished up what he could do for Damian. The demon brat was laid out on a medical cot, his costume set to the side, down to just the thin layer worn under the armor, mask already removed.

“Leslie has been called, she’ll be here in the morning with the necessary supplies. I’m afraid you will have to remain here until then, Master Damian.”

Damian tsked, but otherwise said nothing.

“And now I do believe we are all owed an explanation.” Alfred turned ever so slightly as his attention turned to Damian’s twin.

Damian responded by struggling in his bed.

“What are you doing, akhi?” the twin asked, clearly exasperated.

“I will be sitting up for this,” Damian snarled.

Without a word Alfred handed Damian the bed’s controls, allowing him to slowly raise himself into a reclined sitting position. Alfred raised a brow as if to ask if that would do, Damian only glowered at the wall.

The twin started pulling his domino off. Damian tsked yet again and handed his twin a wipe to help pull the mask off. “Ancients,” the twin said, which Dick mouthed in confusion, “you lot sure do love your theming. And I thought the ghosts had it bad.”

“Ghosts?” Tim mouthed, exchanging quick, confused glances with Dick.

“So yeah, hi. I’m Danny, Damian’s long lost twin.” The twin, now known as Danny, said with a little wave after he got the domino off. And there was no denying that he was Damian’s twin, he had Damian’s face in every feature save his eyes. While Damian clearly had Talia’s eyes, Danny’s were all Bruce.

“Everyone, this is my brother, Danyal Al Ghul Wayne.”

“Legally not my name anymore.”

“Legally?” Tim asked.

“Yeah, I got adopted!” Danny grinned again, all sunshine and cheer that was so wrong when he had Damian’s face.

Tim snorted, Bruce’s kid had been adopted. Oh things just got complicated but the irony of Brucie being on the other end of a kid getting adopted was still a fun kind of irony. Or maybe Tim had gotten to the everything-is-hilarious stage of sleep depravation.

“So what is your legal name?” Dick asked.

“Um… I’m not sure I should tell you that.” Danny fidgeted nervously. “Not yet anyway. I mean, Bruce… uh… our father? Isn’t here and like… shouldn’t he be told? Too? Or first? Honestly I’d rather just be able to tell everyone at the same time rather than having to go over the whole thing every time someone new walks in the door.”

As if he had timed it to happen that way, Jason came roaring into the cave on his bike. There was a collective sigh as everyone crowding around the outside of the door knew they’d have to wait for Jason to get there before things could continue, even if he had been listening in along with Oracle on his way in.

Danny’s face lit up as Jason, still wearing his full Red Hood gear, came into view. He whooped and threw both hands in the air as he ran out the door, somehow not even touching any of the vigilantes crowded in the way.

Jason stopped dead, his own hands raised up halfway in front of him as if unsure what to do. Danny just slapped both of Jason’s with his own in a kind of low five, then bounced excitedly in place. “Undead solidarity, yeah!”

“Uh… what?” Jason’s modulated voice asked in its usual monotone.

��I’ve been dying to meet you!”

“Heh, have you? Were you dead set on meeting the best?”

Damian groaned, “Stop encouraging Danyal’s insipid sense of humor.”

“Yeah, you’re the best!” Danny continued as if Damian hadn’t said a thing, “My favorite new brother!”

Dick gasped and clutched his chest.

Jason pointed at him and laughed as he slung an arm over Danny’s shoulders. “I see you are a kid of taste. How do you feel about Jane Austen.”

Danny winced, “My dude, I’m a guy in high school.”

“And so was I once, but we can’t all have my impeccable taste.” He started walking Danny back over to the medbay. “Anyway, Bruce shouldn’t be back until tomorrow afternoon, we really going to wait that long for the whole story?”

Danny winced, then cursed quietly under his breath. “We’ll have to, something just came up.”

Everyone frowned at that, “What do you mean?” Damian asked.

“The real deal got into a fight and uh… they’re pretty strong. I think I’m gonna need to recombine.”

“What?” Jason said, it was hard to tell if the flatness was his own voice or the modulator.

“Oh uh… I’m a… what’s that word again… doppelganger! That’s it. The main body’s back home and,” he winced again, a bruise blooming across his cheek in real time. No, in double time, it was like watching a time lapse of a bruise blooming and slowly starting to heal. “Look, having my attention and powers split like this is normally fine, a good way to keep my powers in check for fighting normal humans actually. But uh… let’s see… I think I’m fighting Plasmius?”

“We don’t know who that is,” Damian said with a sigh. “He keeps saying names of people or things like I’ll know what it means.”

“It means I can’t afford to have my attention and powers split over two bodies, so I’m about to poof. Sorry. But I’ll be back tomorrow, summon me after school Dami?”

“Summon?” Everyone but the twins asked in confusion.

“Of course, Danyal. Good luck fighting your rogue.”

“I think the fruit loop counts as my arch nemesis, unfortunately. But I gotta sorta slide back, can’t have all of tonight’s memories and my half of the power hit me all at once. This might look a little freaky, but it’s normal and I’m fine I promise.”

Jason unslung his arm from Danny’s shoulder and took a step to the side. They all gawked as Danny closed his eyes and breathed out slowly, his breath frosting in what should be warm air. His face, the only part of him not covered by the Robin costume, started to go invisible at the same time his skin and hair started to gray. Then he was gone and the costume was left behind, slumping to the floor in a pile.

Everyone stood there for a moment, staring at the colorful pile of armor, then they all turned to look at Damian.

“TT, don’t ask me. I still don’t have a full list of everything he can do.”

---

Tim, along with everyone else, was at the manor the next afternoon. And he did mean everyone, even Kate, Harper, and Cullen were there. Hell, even Jason was there, on time no less. Damian had put “17:30 sharp” in the family (minus Bruce) chat and they knew he meant it. They were crowded into one of the larger sitting rooms, every chair filled save a chaise lounge that had been reserved for Damian. The boy of the hour arrived right on time, with five minutes leeway to set everything up.

“So tell me again who you want to introduce us to, chum?” Bruce asked as he followed behind Damian. Alfred brought up the rear, a plate of fresh cookies in hand.

“I haven't told you yet, Father. Have some patience, it will all make sense soon.” Damian settled on the lounge, setting his crutches to lean against it before pulling something out of his pocket. It was a small metal container, he popped it open and pulled out what appeared to be a bright green handkerchief. Very bright green, possible letting off light, neon toxic green. Duke made a soft surprised sound. Damian spread the cloth out on the coffee table in front of him and smoothed it out.

“Damian,” Bruce said carefully, “what is that?”

“A summoning circle, obviously.”

Wait, Danny was serious about being summoned?

“Can… can you even summon living people?” Dick leaned over from where he was perched on the couch’s arm to whisper to Cass, who was perched behind Tim on the couch’s back. Tim and Cass both shrugged.

“Damian, dealing with the occult is very dangerous.”

“It’s quite safe, Father.” Damian pointed down at the white markings on the handkerchief, “Since all the sigils are on here permanently there is no chance of making a mistake drawing them by hand. This group here is his name, this circle can summon one person and one person only. The rest of these are for protection. And this spot here,” Damian tapped on a small circle within the outer ring, “is to activate it. It does require a single drop of blood, it was the safest way to make the circle.”

“Blood?” Bruce asked flatly.

“It will make sense when I call him, do you trust me?”

“I’m not sure I trust whoever this “him” is,” Bruce grumbled.

“But do you trust me, Father?”

Bruce sighed, “You promise whoever this is means us no harm?”

“Of course, I promise.”

“I met the young man last night,” Alfred said as he placed the plate of cookies in the circle. “I found him to be polite and sincere.”

“So this is to do with whatever happened last night that I can’t get any of you to tell me about?”

“We want to explain it ourselves,” Damian said firmly. Then he pulled out a batarang and carefully poked a finger. “Blood of my blood, I call forth the spirit of my brother, Danyal.” He touched the drop of blood to the handkerchief, which lit up as the air around them shifted.

A figure began floating up from the circle, glowing white hair that waved as if they were under water, ashen skin, glowing Lazarus green eyes, a wide smile filled with sharp fangs. This… this wasn’t Danny, was this? The figure seemed to be wearing some kind of black jumpsuit, white gloves picking up the plate of cookies as they passed through the plate. They had no legs, after the belt the body just continued in a long tapering tail that ended like whisps of smoke. They were glowing, they were slightly see through! What was going on?

This wasn’t the boy they’d met last night.

“Father, my brother. Danyal, our father.” Damian paused, then added on, “And the rest of our family.”

“Hi,” the figure chirped, then seemed to shrink into himself as he looked around. “I uh… prefer to be called Danny. The only people who full name me are usually trying to kill me. Or send me to detention.”

That was Damian’s, or rather Danny’s voice alright. Even still had the faint midwestern drawal.

“Why do you look so different?” Dick asked in shock.

“It’s… a long story. Which I’m supposed to tell everyone.” Danny shrunk further into himself, looking miserable. “Please stop being so scared.”

“They are simply adjusting to your unfamiliar form, they will get over it,” Damian said firmly, glaring at everyone in the room.

“It’s not just fear, Dami, they’re horrified.”

“Sit down, eat your cookies. Alfred worked hard on those.” Damian patted the empty space next to him on the chaise lounge.

Danny turned and spun in place to sit down, looked down at where his tail was curled up under him, made a sour face, then the tail was suddenly replaced by a pair of legs tucked under him. He shoved a cookie into his mouth, now sporting normal teeth from what little Tim could see. “S’good,” Danny slurred, glancing over at Alfred who merely nodded his approval.

“Some time ago,” Damian started, as if that wasn’t the most vague way to start, “I summoned Danyal the first time. I am aware it was foolish, I will not hear about it.”

“I called him dumb already,” Danny added in. “I mean, I had to go find someone to explain how the circles work and what makes them safe or dangerous first, but yeah, I called him dumb. Then I had some friends help me make this,” Danny reached over and tapped the handkerchief, “then I went to three trusted uh… mentors? I guess I’d call them? And made sure with each of them this thing is legit before giving it to Dami.”

Bruce hadn’t moved, still standing in front of the coffee table, slack jawed, staring blankly down at Danny and Damian.

“Is he okay?” Danny stage whispered to Damian.

“Perhaps keeping it a surprise was not the optimal option.”

That seemed to snap Bruce out of it, “I think I need to sit down.”

Dick hopped up to guide Bruce to the nearest open seat, which happened to be the chaise lounge. Danny quickly flew up and moved to float cross legged in the air just on the other side of Damian, as if he were sitting in some invisible chair. He munched another cookie before offering the plate to Damian, who took a cookie for himself.

Once Bruce and Dick had settled back down, Damian decided to continue the story. “More recently I needed to do a covert investigation, but I couldn’t allow any of you know.”

“You what?” Bruce asked, clearly upset.

“I know, he still hasn’t even told me what it was. And I had to cover for him!” Danny sounded so offended.

“I had Danyal take my place in patrol while I was away.”

“When?” Bruce asked, voice dipping down as he leveled a steely glare at Damian.

“You never noticed, I think that speaks for itself. So as a test-”

Cass and Tim bumped fists.

“-Danyal has been joining us on patrols for the last twelve days.”

“Almost made it the full two weeks too,” Danny said airily. “That reminds me, you owe me fifty bucks.”

“What? No!” Damian shot back angrily. “They found out before the two weeks were up, clearly I won that bet and you owe me!”

“They didn’t figure it out, that part of the bet is a draw at best for you. No, the fifty is because you’re the reason they found out. It seems awfully suspicious you got into some kind of accident right before the deadline, how did you break your leg again?”

“I did not break my leg on purpose just to win a meaningless bet!”

“Okay, both of you need to calm down,” Bruce said, looking unsure if he needed to step between the two squabbling boys. “You… had a bet?”

“I bet fifty bucks I wouldn’t give myself away before the two weeks were up, Damian bet fifty bucks you’d figure me out before two weeks. And they didn’t figure it out.” Danny turned to glare at Damian as he said that last part.

“Fine,” Damian conceded with a pout. “I shall venmo you your winnings.”

The ghost floating in front of them has a venmo. The ghost floating in front of them has a use for US currency. What is going on? Is Tim hallucinating?

Damian’s pout deepened, “I am still disappointed in you all for not noticing a whole extra person joining our patrols.”

“In my defense, I don’t patrol with you guys,” Duke joked.

“In our defense, we were suspicious,” Tim added.

Bruce sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Damian, we had no way of even expecting you to switch places with your long lost dead twin.” Bruce paused, then looked over at Danny. “How did you pull that off? No offense Danny, but you are very easy to tell apart right now.”

“Oh, that’s because I can do this.” A bright flash of light washed over Danny, changing him back to the boy Tim had met the night before, only wearing baggy casual clothes instead of brightly colored armor.

Duke yelped and covered his eyes, “A little more warning next time? Damn, that was bright!”

“Oops, sorry.”

“Oh thank god, I was so worried,” Steph murmured from next to Tim.

“Well that was flashy,” Dick said.

Bruce seemed broken again, staring at the now living, black haired, blue eyed boy sitting cross legged in the air next to Damian.

“Okay, so what the fuck was all that?” Jason asked, motioning to Danny. “Are you dead or aren’t you? Because you don’t look dead right now.”

“Neither do you,” Danny snarked back.

“I’m not dead though.”

“You sure?”

“Not anymore,” Jason said stubbornly.

“No one ever comes all the way back, not anyone who was dead dead.”

“Please stop,” Bruce begged. Dick whimpered in agreement.

Danny ducked into his shoulders again, grinning sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“Since it would be inconvenient for Robin to be missing at the same time I have a broken leg,” Damian said as a clear subject change, “and we have a perfect stand in who’s already proven himself in the field, Danyal has kindly offered to cover for me for the next few nights.”

“I managed to soup Plasmius last night, so that gives me two, three days max of not having to worry about his schemes. My friends can cover for me during the night so long as I’m still back home during the day. Unless a rabid ancient show up, anyway.”

“What does any of that even mean?” Tim begged.

“We could use some context,” Dick added.

“Right, I guess this is when the life story portion starts,” Danny said with a sigh.

“Perhaps you would prefer to talk over dinner?” Alfred asked from the room’s doorway.

“Dinner sounds great!” Danny cheered as he hopped to his feet, now firmly on the floor. “I’m not sure talking about dying and coming back is the best dinner conversation though,” Danny said absently as he and Bruce helped Damian to his feet.

“Alfred usually has a strict no work talk at the dinner table rule,” Tim teased.

“I think he can make an exception for someone’s life story,” Duke laughed. There were several murmurs of agreement.

“Alright, well I guess we can start with the first time I died,” Danny said as the group slowly filed out of the sitting room and towards the dining room.

#nenna writes #fanfiction #dpxdc #dc x dp #danny phantom #dc comics #batman #batfam #demon twins au #danny and damian are twins #i like the parent trap trope okay?#it's soooooo much fun #poor brucie is having a heart attack thre panic attacks and an existential crisis #and that's before basically getting told jason's still dead

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geigenklang1 · 1 year ago

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A collection of the skills' nicknames

I always like the interactions between skills, and I notice that they rarely call each other by their official names instead use "that guy/those guys" or nicknames. So I decide to collect all the nicknames I know in this post. I'll list out the skill's nickname, where it is from, and add a screenshot from my own game or from fayde.

1.Logic: Puzzle Face (from Rhetoric and Authority)

source: failed Logic check with Titus

You need to have failed a rhetoric or authority check for this to happen.

2. Encyclopedia: Pillar-Bookhead (from Volition)

source: Conversation with Klaasje

3. Rhetoric: Goldmouth (from Empathy, Volition, Drama)

source: This nickname appears on several occasions! Failed rhetoric check with Gaston:

failed check with Titus:

conversation with Cuno:

4. Drama: Mr. thespian, Multi-face (from Volition)

source: Conversation with Klaasje

5. Volition: Crownhead (from Suggestion)

source: Volition check with Klaasje

Probably the most well-known nickname!

6. Inland Empire: Dreamer (from PI)

source: Conversation with Gary

7. Esprit de corps: cop-frequency (from Composure)

source: get Cuno as partner after tribunal

8. Suggestion: grovelling sycophant (from Authority)

This probably doesn't count as a nickname, more like an insult, but still very funny.

source: Volition check with Klaasje

9. Endurance: Ultramarathon (from Volition)

source: fascist quest line conversation

10. Physical Instrument: Coach (from several skills and yourself), sinewy idiot (from Electrochemistry)

A very widely used nickname and you can find a lot of lines, I'll put the specifics in image description:

11. Half Light: Mr. Fight-Or-Flight (from Volition)

source: talk to Gaston about pétanque

12. H\E Coordination: the centipede (from Volition)

source: failed check to shave

13. Reaction Speed: shifty, Mr.Conclusion (from Composure and Volition)

source: Volition check with Klaasje

this one is actually more like insult too.

happens if Logic does not chime in after Volition says the first line.

14. Savoir Faire: Savvy from himself and slimeball from PI

source: ultraliberal quest line conversation

This is when you pass the container rhetoric check after you got the quest line.

15. Interfacing: technically not a nickname, but interfacing sometimes calls himself(themselves?) your fingers

16. Composure: Straight-back-guy (from Volition)

source: Conversation with Klaasje

That's all I know! If anyone know more nicknames you're welcomed to tell me in comments or tags!

It seems that more than half of these are from Volition, truly the King of nicknames!

special thanks to this post by @paleyonder, where I get half of these nicknames from.

#disco elysium #disco elysium skills

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too-much-tma-stuff · 5 months ago

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Never a Dull Moment (Part 15)

Prev | Masterpost | Next

Well for all the meeting with the JL had sort of been shit, it had brought Jason back to the attention of the hero community. He was rebuilding, or building bonds with his adoptive brothers and, while he still wasn’t really a hero, he was far from joining the legion of doom. He wanted to help the heroes when he could, especially if they’d pay him, or return the favour later, or were family. But if he was going to be working with the heroes, and the bats again, there was one more person he really needed to make up with, and one more he needed to meet.

Steph hadn’t been part of the bats before he died, neither had Tim, so he had never met her, and Barb… he’d heard about what had happened to her. The Joker had shot her, paralyzed her from the waist down and officially, and permanently benched Batgirl. Apparently Huntress had tried to take the mantle for a while, but it didn’t suit her style. Jason wasn’t sure how he would handle seeing someone else so badly hurt by the Joker.

It helped that the Joker was dead now of course, but that wasn’t really the part of it he was worried about. She had found a new place for herself, carved out a space as Oracle, the bat’s ‘guy-in-the-chair’, she had adjusted to such a devastating change and she was… okay. He had died, yes, but he had been brought back, but he was unquestionably worse. Seeing her was going to make him so ashamed of himself. Through no fault of her own she was the standard Bats hurt by the joker were held to, and he had failed it spectacularly.

Not that the others hadn’t been hurt by the Joker. Tim had told Jason about his time as Joker Junior in confidence and it sounded fucking awful, and Tim was permanently affected by it. He said he couldn’t remember many details but he knew he didn’t experience emotions the same way he had before, and he was still prone to bouts of mania. Jason could sympathize with that, he understood, and he certainly understood what it was like to fear insanity, what one could become if they finally fell off the knife edge they were tottering on. Both he and Danny were intimately familiar with that feeling, and they could all support each other through it.

Once he had met ‘O’ maybe he would find out ways that she wasn’t as well adjusted as she seemed from the outside but right now? Jason found her tremendously intimidating. So sue him that he had been putting off meeting her in person again, in spite of Dickie’s gentle nagging to incorporate himself more with the Gotham vigilantes.

“Really Jay, she’d be happy to meet you and it would make it so much easier to coordinate with you and help you if you need it.” Dick insisted as he followed from the living room to the kitchen, without seeming to register it.

“I’m already on the coms. I hacked them ages ago and she hasn’t booted me off, we can coordinate. It’s not like I ever ask you guys for help anyway,” Jason grumbled. “Why do you want me to meet your ex so badly?!” He snapped as he put the kitchen island between himself and Dick to enforce some space, then winced a little. He really needed to stop lashing out when he was feeling a bit defencive, thankfully these things seemed to just bounce off of Dick. Though the jury was out on if he knew Jason didn’t mean it or if they just went over his head.

“Ya, but it’s her channels you’re hacking and honestly she’s starting to get pretty upset about you not engaging with her!” Dick said, talking with his hands to the extent Danny subtly rescued his glass of pop before it could get spilled or accidentally flung at the wall. “Doesn’t matter that she’s my ex, she's one of us and she’s good! You’re getting back involved with our family, you should get back in touch with her!”

Danny put the glass down on the counter and casually blocked Dick’s way before he could follow Jason around the counter, leaning against. He was doing that thing he did where he practically faded into the background without going fully invisible. Not interrupting the conversation while still keeping an eye on Jason, which he appreciated because he did not want to lose it on his well meaning (if pushy) brother.

“I’m not fucking one of you! I’m not a hero!” Jason growled at Dick, feeling Danny gently rest a hand on his arm reminding him to take a deep breath.

“But you’re still part of the family, Littlewing,” Dick pleaded, looking a little hurt and terribly hopeful. “Please?”

Jason felt that like a punch in the gut, and really he knew Dick was right and he should meet the two of them. He groaned and rubbed his face. “Fine, she’s always on the coms right? Next time I’ll just apologize for hacking them and have a chat.”

“Actually Bruce will be off-world next week so we’re all having a family lunch at the manor, you should come!” Dick enthused.

“I haven’t-”

“Yes you have, I know you’ve sneaked in to visit Alfred! Not that I blame you of course. He’d love to have you there,” Dick interrupted, giving Jason his best puppy dog eyes.

Shit, bringing up Alfred was just cheating, those puppy dog eyes didn’t usually work on him but Jason could feel himself softening. His shoulders slowly drooping before he heaved a sigh and rolled his eyes. “Fine, yes, we’ll come,” He grumbled.

“We’ll?” Dick asked looking confused, before Danny slipped out of his half visible state and pressed against Jason’s side smiling at Dick.

“We’re looking forward to it,” Danny said, smiling at Dick. He hadn’t technically been invited, but surely they couldn’t expect Jason to go without his partner.

“Oh, ah, right,” Dick said shifting awkwardly. He looked like he might want to suggest Jason's first family lunch since getting back should be with family only, but Danny put on his best innocently excited look and Dick couldn’t bring himself to say no. He stifled a sigh and put his smile back on. “Great! I’m sure Alfred will be happy to have both of you.”

“Great. Now that you’ve gotten your way will you both get out of my kitchen so I can cook?!” Jason insisted, still only half regretting inviting Dick over for dinner tonight.

---------

Jason knew better than to bring anything to the family dinner. Alfred liked to do all of the cooking for these things, he considered coming early to help him with the cooking he wanted to do. But honestly he didn’t think that he could handle any more time with the family then was absolutely needed. Just going back to the manor, not just sneaking into the kitchen to have tea with Alfred, was going to be hard enough.

Danny wasn’t anywhere near as nervous as Jason was, he was sort of excited to meet them and to get a tour of the home Jason had spent such formative years in. Jason caught the mischievous look in Danny’s eyes when he talked about getting a tour and Jason was pretty sure that Bruce was going to come back to find that something expensive or potentially sentimental had been mysteriously broken. Jason didn’t mention it, he didn’t blame Danny for the urge and didn’t want to know anything about it. He just wanted to show up for dinner, stay for an hour or two to make nice, and then get drunk.

“Jason? We’re going to be late,” Danny said softly, leaning against the back of the couch where Jason was sitting. He didn’t say it with any urgency, he wasn’t rushing Jason. It was a gentle reminder, if Jason wanted to be late Danny would support it, if Jason wanted to cancel and not go at all Danny would curl up on the couch with him and not bring up the dinner again unless Jason did. Even if he did want to go.

“You’re right, we should get going,” Jason agreed and stood up. “How do I look?” He asked, he was wearing untorn jeans and a short sleeved shirt with a collar, almost a polo.

Danny gave him a considerate look, “Downright preppy,” He chuckled, leaning forward to giving Jason a gentle kiss. He was wearing a sort of silky black button down and tight jeans, also nice, but more his style.

Jason laughed softly into the kiss and gripped Danny’s hips, pulling him closer and prolonging the kiss as Danny let out a little sound of pleasure. Maybe they should be late after all…

Danny broke the kiss and stepped away. “You look good Jason, you’ll make a good impression on them. And no matter what happens you’ll still have me. If you want to cut them all off again and go back to the way things were, you’ll still have me. No matter what.” Danny promised Jason, holding his hand and guiding him towards the door.

“I’m not going to isolate us again Danny. And you shouldn’t let me even if I try,” Jason told Danny, trying to keep his tone light to undercut how much he meant it. “And if I do feel free to stage an intervention.”

Danny laughed and gave Jason a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, and didn’t respond. Well that was clearly a topic they were going to have to talk about more later, but apparently now was not the time because Danny tugged Jason more forcefully out of the door. Jason took over leading the way down and tugged Danny onto the back of his bike before taking off toward the manor.

The gate opened as they pulled up which meant someone must have been watching for them, Jason barely had to slow down to duck through the half open gate. He skidded to a stop at the end of the long driveway that separated the Wayne’s from the rest of Gotham. He hadn’t noticed anyone hanging around the gate but he wondered if anyone would notice the two new people driving into the estate, and if there would be any speculation about who they were. He hoped not, unless it would give Bruce a headache, then maybe he could put up with it.

Danny hopped off the back of his bike and took off his helmet, fussing and fluffing up his flattened hair as he looked around them with a grin. Jason flipped down the kickstand and got up as well, taking off his helmet and shrugging off his jacket. Quickly Dick came bursting out of the door and leaping down the front steps to hug Jason, who quickly redirected Dick at Danny who laughed and hugged Dick tightly, lifting him off the ground and making him squeak.

Jason grinned and looked up, freezing for just a moment when he saw Alfred, standing in the open doorway with his hands clasped behind his back, watching them with a barely there smile. Jason left the other two as Danny put Dick down again laughing at his expression, and Jason went up the stairs ahead of them.

“It’s good to see you again Master Jason,” Alfred murmured to him, resting a hand on his shoulder. His accent and the warmth in his eyes always felt like home, Jason’s shoulder unknotted a little. “I know the manor doesn’t feel like home for you, but you’re still always welcome here.”

“I know Alfred,” Jason said softly. And he did, even Bruce wouldn’t turn him out, though he would ask for certain concessions. Any time Jason wanted to give up and come home, he could, too bad he’d always been too proud and too driven to give up. He’d blow everything up first, a trait he wasn’t exactly proud of.

“As long as you know. Come on in, you and your partner,” He said, nodding behind Jason and when he glanced back Danny was there and he nudged gently against Jason’s shoulder. Jason took the hint and wrapped an arm around Danny’s shoulders.

“Alfred, this is my boyfriend Danny. Danny, this is the family butler, and pseudo grandfather, Alfred.” Jason introduced them and Danny smiled brightly, holding out his hand.

“It’s nice to meet you!” Danny said as Alfred shook his hand. “Jason has told me so much about you, I’m so glad to finally meet you.”

“And I you young man, it is delightful to meet anyone who has brought so much joy to my grandchildren’s lives,” Alfred said warmly before ushering them all inside and to the dining room to get them all drinks.

“It’s good to finally meet you!” A blond girl popped out of nowhere making Jason jump.

“Fu-”

“Language Master Jason!” Alfred cut in.

“Sorry Alfred, she just startled me,” Jason told him before looking back at the blond. “So you must be Steph eh? Kinda funny how the people who date into this fucked up family never escape even long after the breakup,” He chuckled as he offered her his hand, which she grabbed with both of hers and shook vigorously.

“Hey I could totally leave if I want to, I didn’t become Spoiler because of him! I like being a vigilante!” She insisted before letting go and moving on to shake Danny’s hand. “Behold! Your future,” She joked and he cackled.

“Jason and I aren’t planning to break up any time soon,” he joked back. “And I was a cape long before I met him, more of a cape then I am now actually,” He said, clicking his tongue and snuggling back against Jason’s side when she let go.

“Oh ya? How’d you get into it,” Steph asked curiously.

“Oh it was after I got my powers at 14,” Danny started to explain. A story Jason had heard before, and he had a feeling Steph already knew as well but wanted to hear directly from the source.

Jason looked up and around the room, sort of tuning out their conversation since he already had an idea how it would go. He spotted Barbra quickly, she had pulled her wheelchair at the table, she had her elbows propped on the arms and her hands folded, staring at him over steepled fingers. Well, time to face the music. He kissed the top of Danny’s head and slipped away, walking around the table and sitting down next to her.

“Hey Barbie,” He said a little awkwardly, she gave him a look that made him wince. “Sorry Barbra,” He murmured, wondering how she perfected Alfred’s disappointed look more than any of the kids who actually grew up with him.

“Barb is fine,” She said, spinning her chair to face him a little more.

“Right, it’s- um, it’s good to see you again?” He said it like a question.

“Really?” She asked, raising her eyebrows and leaning back in her chair. “And here I thought you’d been avoiding me.”

“Ya, I’m sorry. I don’t really have any excuse,” He admitted, looking away from her.

“Do you have a reason?” She asked, raising one eyebrow.

“Well, ya, but I don’t know if it’s a good one,” He told her.

“Tell it to me anyway.”

“I couldn’t face someone else The Joker hurt so bad. I didn’t know about Timmer’s Joker Jr incident when I reached out to him,” Jason sighed, unable to look at her.

“What? Am I everything you don’t want to be?” She asked dryly and he shook his head.

“No, you’re what I should have been if I was stronger,” He admitted with a sigh. “I’m sure you had a ton of shit to work through, but you moved forward and found a new role for yourself, stayed a part of the family and didn’t distance yourself. You’re not stuck in the past, obsessed with revenge and so fucking angry and scared,” Jason grumbled.

“So I make you feel inadequate?” She asked with an amused note to her voice.

“Ya I guess so,” Jason said with a bitter little snort of a laugh.

“I guess I can understand that,” Barb sighed with a little shrug. “You shouldn't compare yourself to others like that though you know. It's not healthy, you're on your own ‘healing journey’.” At least she put finger-quotes around the phrase. None of the bats took particularly well to therapy talk though she must have had a decent amount of it after her injury. Commissioner Gordon wouldn't have let her go without.

“Gee thanks,” Jason said, rolling his eyes. “But also, kinda ya. I'm trying to be better you know? That's why I'm here, I'm trying to do better you know? I appreciate that you haven't kicked me off the coms, but I'd like to be on them in a more official way now. Me and Danny, we care about Gotham too, we should work with her other protectors a bit more.”

“Remember you're not supposed to talk about work at dinner, did you already forget that rule?” She teased him with a little smile, at least she didn't seem mad anymore. “But I agree, I'll officially add you to our contacts for Arkham breakouts and stuff.

“Now I think Steph is about to give your boyfriend a tour of the manor, do you want to go with them?” Barb asked, gesturing over at Danny, who was indeed being dragged out of the room while laughing.

“Nah, it seems like they're getting along well and I already know my way around here if I need to,” he said with a shrug. “Unless you're trying to get a break from me, then I'll go.”

“No, honestly I'd rather not be left alone with Dick,” she joked making Jason laugh properly and relax at least a little. He relaxed properly when Alfred brought out drinks and appetizers. Soon he was teasing Dick along with Barb, and getting disapproving looks for talking with his mouth full.

Just as food was brought to the table Steph and Danny returned, Jason could tell from how smug Danny looked that something was in the house was broken, Steph seemed blissfully ignorant. Danny slid into the open seat next to Jason. Jason gave him a questioning look, Danny winked and Jason rolled his eyes, he'd find out more about whatever it was Danny had broken later. Tim joined them at the last minute as well, apologizing for losing track of time in his lab.

The foods was wonderful, Alfred's cooking always tasted like home, and he was the reason Jason showed his love by feeding people. Everything Alfred made was made with love and soon everyone was chatting between bites. Danny and Tim were talking about his lab, which hadn't been part of the tour so Tim was going to show Danny after dinner. Barb and Jason had started talking about books and Dick kept butting in with irrelevant details because he wasn't very academic but he wanted to be part of the conversation. Steph got him off their back by starting to tease him for being a cop and pestering him for stories.

Things were going really well, until everyone's phones went off, with the special ring tones. Everyone reached for their phones.

“No phones at the tab-” Alfred started automatically before he realized the implications of all of them getting a call. He closed his mouth with a very soft click, Jason didn't have a JL phone, but even he had gotten a text from Wonder Woman so he checked it to.

There is a disturbance, we will likely need assistance from you and Hyena. We are waiting for word from Constantine.

“Well shit. Sorry dinner’s gotta end early Alfred, it looks like it's all hands on deck. At least we're all here so Danny and I can just Zeta in with all of you.” Jason sighed and pushed back from the table.

“I don't have my suit,” Danny exclaimed, startled, “I didn't think I'd need it!”

“How quickly can you get it?” Dick asked, clearly worried.

“Give me ten minutes, is there anything you want me to get for you as well?” Jason nodded and told Danny some specific weapons Danny had built for him. Danny nodded before transforming and speeding out through the wall leaving shocked silence in his wake.

“So that's what his other form looks like? Pretty cool!” Dick exclaimed finally. “Anyway, we should get ready too. Let's head down to the cave and see what info they've already sent through.

#dc x dp #fanfiction #jason todd #dead on main #batman #barbra gordon #tim drake #dick grayson #danny phantom #stephanie brown #alfred pennyworth

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magicalmanhattanproject · 1 year ago

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the really interesting thing about the only multilingual alliance in hunt and run is that like. basically no one expects it to work.

the battle lines have basically been drawn between english and spanish streamers and the spanish streamers had to be told specifically by the admins that htey aren't allowed to pull a massive crossteam against the english speakers because most of the english speakers are just really good players so they're scary.

at the start of the event, soarinng was fretting so much about if badboyhalo would betray him for his more skilled english friends (soarinng is Very Very Good at pvp by the way he is Absolutely underselling himself) but he reassured himself that bad is a qsmp guy and qsmp guys are honest

at the end of the event, aquino – another member of the alliance – had decided that bad was completely trustworthy but was worried that bad would think they would betray him and was fretting about how to tell him that he wouldn't since aquino doesn't speak much english

everyone seems to think that the alliance is held on by a thread and due to fall apart at any moment just from the weight of the language barrier. also the spanish speakers on the team have officially declared bad their gringo and are telling their friends not to target him. also bad fully trusts his team and won't shut up about how much fun he's having playing with them

communicating with the language barrier was weird and difficult and there was a lot that bad straight up missed and a lot of times where it took several attempts to communicate things to bad or for bad to communicate things to them. also they launched multiple well coordinated attacks, almost killed spreen, did kill someone else, and stayed alive and improving their gear all the way to the end

working with someone who speaks a different language than you is so intimidating and scary that i fully understand why almost no one tried it. but for the people who had already ripped the bandaid off and actually tried it (bad and soarinng), it still works! it's working great! and i think they honeslty have a real chance to make it to the end since they're a team of four strong players but not so well known that people will target them for swarms or third partying the way people will be trying to murder shadoune or sapnap or spreen's teams

#sorrelposting #hunt and run #qsmp

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mak-be-ghouled · 5 months ago

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The Sound of the End of Day

2.1k Words of Angst/comfort

Mountain/Dew (and a bit of Aether)

Terzo, Copia, and other ghouls mentioned

A huge thank you to @nastylittleghouls and @divine-misfortune for their thoughts under this post:)

the tittle being from Monstrance Clock only felt right

When Copia is lifted by the Skeleton Dancers during Dance Macabre, Mountain and Dew are taken back to one of the worst days in their time topside.

They had officially made it to the final leg of the Re-Imperatour.

Unfathomable hours were poured into rehearsals long before the tour was even announced. Any one of the ghouls could've played the show forwards, backwards, and in their sleep. They knew the order by heart, had already performed it more times than they cared to count.

But this one was special, Papa was adamant about how important the shows in LA would be, and the ghouls were determined to do their part for their Papa. Hell, they even had choreography coordinated with real dancers.

And so, more rehearsals were called, plugging in the Chamber Ghoulettes and the Skeleton Dancers. Sure, the ghouls weren't exactly used to sharing the stage with so many others, but they couldn't deny the sheer talent of the new additions. They rehearsed until every moving part was perfect. Until they were certain there would be no surprises.

But something about the crowd’s screaming, the blinding lights, the shadowy figures, the music, the lift.

The fucking lift.

Mountain and Dew hadn't made the connection until now.

The audience screamed, their Papa was in the air, and the music was still going.

But Mountain and Dew were back on that dammed stage.

That Gothenburg stage where they were promised they’d never have to return to. That stage where they saw their former Papa for the last time. That stage where Terzo was ripped from them before they even processed what was going on. That stage that haunted their nightmares and the darkest corners of their minds.

Papa was in the air and Mountain was stuck behind his kit. He was frozen, just like last time. Just like he had sworn he wouldn't allow himself to do ever again. It's a wonder he only stalled for a moment. Straining to focus on Rain’s base line, to keep up. His head was swimming and he was drowning.

And yet, no one else seemed phased. Swiss was still singing, still dancing--well moving his hips in a way that could maybe be interpreted as dancing. Aurora and Cumulus were still singing and dancing together, mimicking the Skeletons from earlier. Phantom was still working the audience as always. Cirrus was still playing. Rain still stood strong, was still in time.

But Dew.

Dew saw it too. The moment Papa was in the air his eyes fled to Aether. But Aether wasn't there. Aether wasn't on tour. There wasn't anyone to run after Copia. Dew’s heart stutters as he scans the stage.

Finally, his eyes land on Mountain. Just like they had that night.

Dew was certain they’d lost another Papa. He turned to run backstage. To follow those shadowy figures this time. To do what he hadn't then. What he beats himself up for not doing. What fuels that nagging voice in his mind.

Dew is in auto pilot. He’s straining to find tempo again. To find the right notes on his bass. Dew’s hands are shaking so hard he's not sure any of the notes he's played in the last minute have been even remotely correct. He doesn't recognize the song anymore; this isn't Monstrance Clock and his bass feel wrong. Too Small. Too Light.

Dew sees the fear behind Mountains eyes. Knows it's the same fear that is clouding his vision too. Dew watches Mountain shake his head, desperately trying to clear the fog.

After what feels like an eternity Mountain returns Dew's gaze. Mountain gives him a firm nod and a half smile. It's so incredibly forced but that doesn't matter. Not right now. Somehow it makes everything okay. Confirms that Mountain saw it too.

That it's not real this time. Papa is okay this time. He won't have to watch Aether run after him this time. He won’t have to run after them both this time.

Finally, Dew can feel his hands again and The Forum isn't spinning quite so fast. He looks down. He’s not holding a bass. Fucking of course he isn't, he's got his guitar in his hands. He thinks he might hear Dance Macabre echoing in his mind. But it's so distant. A dream maybe? This certainly wouldn't be the first dream Dew’s had of this moment.

And then, everything goes quiet. Copia is back on the ground. He isn't shouting or fighting. He’s singing. The crowd isn't screaming in fear, they're cheering. Those shadowy figures have disappeared. The Skeleton Dancers are still surrounding Copia, but he's still there. Still standing. Copia isn't being dragged off the stage kicking and screaming. He’s safe. He’s alive.

Mountain can barely hold his drumsticks and Dew is sure he would've dropped his guitar if it wasn't for the strap on his shoulder. They shoot each other a final glance before Square Hammer starts. Before they have to pretend like they didn't just watch their Papa get pulled from the stage, leaving them helpless.

And yet, by the looks on everyone else's faces, they hadn't. No one seems to care.

Dew’s stomach twists and he's positive he's going to throw up.

Mountain’s not much better, swaying slightly behind his kit, dizzy.

They want nothing more than for this fucking show to be over with. To know that their Papa is okay. That they didn't fail him again. To call Aether.

As soon as Copia finishes his farewell speech, Mountain and Dew are flanking his sides. This isn't their normal spots for bows, but they have to be around Copia right now. To hold his hand. To know that he's alright. They don't want to overwhelm him. They don't want to do anything too drastic; they know how important this show is for him. But they have to know he’s okay. They pull Copia into a bone cracking hug, and while Copia appreciates their affection, something neither Dew nor Mountain are particularly fond of sharing in front of this many people, he can't help but wonder what has prompted it.

The ride to the hotel is a blur. Mountain vaguely remembers Cirrus’s questioning glance and Swiss’s hand on his back, leading him towards the bus.

Dew thinks he hears Rain’s voice send comments and compliments his way, the beginning of a call and response of sort, a habit they’d fallen into after Rain’s first ritual. But this time Dew’s response is just a nod, hardly even perceptible had Rain not been burning holes into him with his stare since he caught whiff of Dew’s distress during Dance Macabre.

When they arrive at the hotel, Dew is a bit more present. Asking Copia to ensure he and Mountain room together. He reassures the pack that him and Mountain are okay. Drained, but okay.

He tries his hardest to guide Mountain to their room. To be the life preserver he knows Mountain needs right now. But fuck does he need one too.

He feels bad calling Aether without checking what time it is over there, but doesn't even have the time to consider anything else before his arms are moving on their own accord. Pulling out his phone and finding Aether’s contact. Mountain needs Aether right now. Dew needs Aether right now.

Dew knew how much Mountain still thought about that night. Mountain had confided in Dew shortly after it.

In The Pits, Mountain was ridiculed for being a plant-specialized Earth Giant. Others thought that made him soft, pointless. Earth Giants were meant to be geological, what good would a giant with a knack for plants be, that job was for the little ones.

Mountain was paralyzed with fear. He was stuck behind his drum kit. Forced to watch as Terzo disappeared. He was helpless. Years of working on himself, his self-image, his confidence, flushed down the drain in that single moment. Again, Mountain began to wonder if they were correct. Maybe he really was soft. Useless. A sorry excuse for an Earth Giant.

“Hi Sweet Thing. You with us?”

Mountain is ripped from his thoughts as he hears Aether's voice. It’s crackly and a bit robotic through the speakers of Dew’s phone, but it is undeniably Aether.

“Hmm?”

Mountain hums, his eyes finally focusing on something for the first time in hours.

Dew is holding his phone in front of his face, Aether is dimly lit on the other end, smiling softly at them.

“There he is.”

Aether's eyes light up as Mountain acknowledges him for the first time since he'd answered Dew's call.

“Wasn't right without you Aeth. Fuck. Kept looking around for you. Imagined you running after him”

Dew laughs dryly to himself but tears fill his eyes.

Aether wishes he could just crawl through the screen and hold his boys. He knows how much they love Copia, how much Terzo's death affected them. How much it affected himself. But he’s on the other side of the fucking world, so he just hopes his words and presence, even if though a phone screen, can provide them enough comfort to get some rest before they have to do this all over again tomorrow. Without him. Again.

“I know baby, I'm so sorry. Wish I was there too”

Aether smiles sadly though the phone.

“Guess neither of us made too big a fool of ourselves though, maybe those pointless rehearsals weren't so pointless”

Dew tries to joke, but Aether can see right through him.

“Why didn't I see it?”

Mountain mumbles into the space between Dew’s neck and shoulder that he’s crammed himself into.

“What was that Hun?”

Dew asks, rubbing the back of Mountain’s head where his hair had been tied back for the show.

“The lift, I mean why didn’t I see it before. We practiced--Satan knows how many times-- just like you said, and I never once thought anything of it until tonight. Why'd it have to hit me in the middle of a fucking show. Probably made a dumbass of myself up there loosing time during the second to last song of the night... Was supposed to be perfect for Papa.”

Mountain whispers the last part, but Dew and Aether are still able to catch it.

Dew pulls Mountain closer to himself and Aether’s heart breaks, longing to reach out, to whisk those worries away.

“Mountain, I didn't make the connection until tonight either. It was different. I dunno how, but it... was.”

Dew silently curses himself for his lack of explanation, he knows that's what Mountain needs right now. Mountain needs logic. Something that tells him why something happened so he can avoid it next time. But truthfully Dew doesn't know. He doesn't know why tonight was different, but it was, and it fucked him up too.

“I'm sure it had something to do with the crowd and the stage lights. I remember those helmets; you can't see shit in ‘em. Hearing people screaming, being blinded and burned by those lights, watching someone you care about, who holds the same title, in the same spot as one of the most traumatic events of your time topside. That’s probably why it was different. I know that doesn't change anything, but it does make a difference.”

Aether adds.

And logically Mountain knows Dew is right, that Aether is right. That it was different. But he still hates himself for faltering, even if no one else noticed.

“Plus, I'm sure if you really did mess up, anything noticeably at least, we all would've gotten a smartass text from Swiss. I'm thinking something along the lines of ‘The All-Mighty Mountain Crumbles at the Sight of a Dangerously Handsome Multi's Hips"

Aether jokes while drawing a rectangle in the air with his hands, mimicking a news headline, hoping to bring his mates back down to Earth.

Dew giggles, a genuine giggle and Mountain huffs out a laugh. It isn't much, he knows that, but Aether has never been prouder of himself.

They talk for a bit longer, until Mountain and Dew’s minds have cleared a bit and their eyes have returned to that deep forest green and the vibrant copper and ocean blue Aether had fallen so in love with, before any of this mattered.

Mountain and Dew finally settle into their bed. Their position is awkward at best but they’re comfortable. They're Here. They have each other. Copia is alright. They're alright.

And that's all that matters right now.

All that can matter right now.

#the band ghost #nameless ghouls #mountain ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #aether ghoul #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost band fic #copia #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus iv #aether x dewdrop #mountain x aether #mountain x dewdrop #rite here rite now #maks writing #mak writes

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eternaltae7 · 3 months ago

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Hani & Wonwoo Moments That Cause Fans To Speculate

Fox of BTS | BTS 8th Member

The MAMA Awards Glances:

During a major award show like MAMA, cameras caught Hani smiling and subtly glancing toward Wonwoo while Seventeen performed. Fans noticed that her gaze lingered on him more than once, sparking speculation about whether there was something more going on between them. BTS was seated near Seventeen, and Hani’s fond looks didn’t go unnoticed by eagle-eyed fans.

Matching Accessories:

During separate promotions, both Hani and Wonwoo were seen wearing what appeared to be matching bracelets. While it’s possible this was a coincidence, fans couldn’t help but speculate that the matching accessories were a sign of their closeness. Social media went wild with side-by-side comparisons of their jewelry, with fans asking if the bracelets were “couple items.”

Coordinated Social Media Posts:

Fans have pointed out that Hani and Wonwoo sometimes post on social media at suspiciously similar times. Whether it’s photos from the same location or cryptic captions that seem to mirror each other, fans have theorized that the two could be spending time together behind the scenes. One particular post where Hani uploaded a sunset photo followed by Wonwoo posting a similar one not long after had fans buzzing with excitement.

The “Accidental” Livestream Moment:

During a casual BTS livestream, Hani was talking to fans when she mentioned Seventeen’s recent comeback. When a fan commented about Wonwoo, Hani’s reaction was subtle but noticeable. Her smile grew wider, and she quickly moved on to the next question. Fans caught this and wondered whether her reaction indicated something more between them.

Behind-the-Scenes Chemistry:

During a behind-the-scenes video of a variety show collaboration between BTS and Seventeen, Hani and Wonwoo were seen playfully interacting. At one point, Wonwoo helped Hani adjust her mic pack, and the brief but intimate moment had fans speculating about the nature of their relationship. The soft smiles and comfortable energy between them were undeniable.

Subtle Teasing from Seungkwan and Hoshi:

During one of Seungkwan and Hoshi’s usual playful interactions with Hani, fans picked up on their teasing comments and speculate that they were about Wonwoo. In a TikTok video where the trio was doing a dance challenge, Hoshi jokingly asked Hani, “Are you going to send this to him?” Fans were quick to link the comment to Wonwoo, especially after Seungkwan smirked and added, “Yeah, he’s going to love this.”

Wonwoo’s Reaction to Hani’s Stage Performances:

Fans have noted that Wonwoo often reacts to Hani’s performances in a way that seems more than just friendly support. During one award show, when BTS performed, cameras cut to Seventeen’s table, and Wonwoo was seen watching intently, with a soft smile. The speculation grew when fans noticed he clapped more enthusiastically during Hani’s solo moments.

“Accidentally” Calling Him Out:

During a BTS fan meeting, a fan asked Hani to describe her ideal type. While she gave a generic answer, saying she liked someone thoughtful and kind, she added a small detail about enjoying someone who reads a lot, something fans quickly linked to Wonwoo, who is known for his love of books. The fans screamed in excitement, and Hani’s slightly flustered reaction didn’t help dispel the rumors.

Group Hangouts with Seventeen:

Fans noticed that Hani has been spotted hanging out with Seventeen members outside of official schedules. Whether it’s during group dinners, variety show tapings, or casual hangouts with the Seventeen members, fans have speculated that Wonwoo’s presence at these events is more than coincidental. Seungkwan and Hoshi, being the obvious intermediaries, seem to make the most of teasing Hani and Wonwoo during these get-togethers.

Subtle Body Language:

Fans have analyzed numerous interactions between Hani and Wonwoo, noting that their body language suggests a deeper connection. Whether it’s the way Wonwoo stands a little closer to her than necessary during group photos or how they always seem to be positioned near each other in public settings, fans believe the small, almost imperceptible moments point to something more.

“Accidental” Instagram Story:

Hani once posted an Instagram story of her enjoying a cup of coffee at a cafe. A few minutes later, Wonwoo posted a similar story from what looked like the same cafe, sparking rumors that they were together at the time. Though they didn’t appear in each other’s posts, fans couldn’t help but notice the matching table settings and atmosphere, leading many to believe that they were enjoying a quiet date.

Their Similar Playlist Choices:

During separate interviews, both Hani and Wonwoo mentioned having similar favorite songs. On one occasion, Hani shared a playlist for fans, which included songs that Wonwoo had also recommended during a recent Vlive. Fans were quick to notice the overlap, and the shared taste in music became another piece of “evidence” that the two were connected beyond friendship.

Special Shoutout at Seventeen’s Concert:

During one of Seventeen’s concerts, Hani was spotted in the audience cheering them on. What made fans even more excited was when Seungkwan and Hoshi playfully mentioned a “special friend” in the crowd, making sure to look in Hani’s direction. Although they didn’t directly mention her name, fans quickly assumed they were talking about her, especially with Wonwoo giving a shy smile on stage after the remark.

The Suspicious Gift Exchange:

During one of BTS’s Vlive sessions, Hani was seen opening a gift that she said was from a “friend.” She didn’t reveal who it was from, but fans quickly linked it to Wonwoo after noticing that the bracelet inside matched one he had been seen wearing during Seventeen’s promotions. The exchange of gifts and their matching jewelry further fueled dating rumors.

Caught in the Same Area Abroad:

During BTS and Seventeen’s overlapping international schedules, fans spotted both groups vacationing in the same city at the same time. While there was no official confirmation that Hani and Wonwoo were together, fans speculated that they might have coordinated their free time to spend it together, especially after a fan account posted about seeing them in the same neighborhood in Paris.

Subtle Mentions of Each Other:

In separate interviews, both Hani and Wonwoo have made subtle mentions of qualities they admire in others that seem to describe each other. Wonwoo once mentioned admiring someone who is “calm but passionate,” which fans thought perfectly described Hani. Meanwhile, Hani once said she likes people who “balance intellect and humor,” which many believe points to Wonwoo’s personality.

Wonwoo’s Reaction to Hani’s Solo Performance:

During a BTS concert where Hani had a solo stage, fans noticed that Wonwoo, who was in the audience with Seventeen, had an unusually focused expression while she performed. Seventeen members were all cheering on BTS, but Wonwoo’s intense concentration on Hani’s performance stood out. Fans captured the moment, adding it to the growing list of “evidence” that he has deeper feelings for her.

Wonwoo’s Appearance on Hani’s TikTok:

During a TikTok dance challenge that Hani filmed with Seungkwan and Hoshi, Wonwoo made a surprise cameo in the background. Although he was quiet and didn’t participate, fans couldn’t help but notice his lingering presence, which seemed out of character for someone as private as Wonwoo. The light teasing from Hoshi and Seungkwan about his cameo only fueled speculation.

Fan Theories Based on Their Lyrics:

Some fans have analyzed the lyrics of BTS and Seventeen songs, trying to find hidden messages that could hint at Hani and Wonwoo’s relationship. While there’s no direct evidence, many believe that certain Seventeen ballads and BTS’s love songs could have been inspired by their connection, especially given that both groups have collaborated on music and have shared moments of artistic inspiration.

Accidental Livestream Glance:

During a Seventeen Vlive, fans caught a brief moment where Wonwoo’s phone buzzed, and his screen lit up with a message. Though the message wasn’t visible, eagle-eyed fans noticed that the contact name started with an “H” and immediately theorized it was Hani texting him. His shy smile and quick movement to turn off the phone only added to the speculation.

The Seungkwan and Hoshi Teasing Game:

Fans have noted that Seungkwan and Hoshi love to tease both Hani and Wonwoo whenever they are all in the same space. During one joint live stream, Seungkwan joked about how “someone” blushes whenever a certain someone is around, while Hoshi chimed in, saying, “We all know who it is.” Though neither of them directly named Hani or Wonwoo, fans were quick to make the connection based on their history of playful teasing.

Wonwoo’s Shyness Around Hani:

During award show appearances, fans have pointed out that Wonwoo often appears shyer or more reserved when Hani is around. While he’s normally quiet, his subtle reactions, such as avoiding eye contact or nervously laughing when she’s mentioned, have led fans to believe that he has a crush on her, and he’s struggling to hide it.

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siddyyyyyyyy · 12 days ago

Text

It's All an Act

Actor!AU

Bruce Wayne x fem!Reader

wc: 5 K summary: Actor!Bruce plays as your love interest in your up-coming movie warnings: no y/n used, Bruce acting like a rich kid sometimes, fluff, consumption of alcohol at a party, light harrassment a/n: part two is finally here!!! please ignore how long it took for me to write it, just enjoy this piece of my soul. Enjoy!

PREVIOUS PART

NEXT PART

Next day on set felt different. You couldn‘t forget how good he felt against you, how his scent lingered on your clothes after wards and how he shamelessly cock-blocked you. Sure, he has a good reason for it; he wants to make your first time with him special. You appreciate it, you really do, but he could‘ve told you earlier.

At least you both talked about the rest, officially dating and happy. It would have been way better if you could make it public, but with your jobs, you decided on keeping it a secret for the time-being, until some time passes.

But you both don‘t mind, it even feels more thrilling or rather more exciting in that way. Truth be told, it feels like you are in a cheesy romance story. And it‘s the best feeling ever.

Now, you are watching the crew set up the area with cameras, props and mics, making sure everything goes right again while you sip on your coffee. You‘ve barely gotten any sleep anyway after last night, and you really hope Malva won‘t come by and ask for updates. You are unsure what you‘d tell her.

Well, there is no time to panic over things like this and you have to film a more difficult scene today. Which requires stunts, and an angsty scene afterwards, which requires you crying and shouting at him. God, you have a love-hate-relationship with this job.

There is a stunt double of Bruce, actually Andy, that the staff is trying to look more like Bruce with colouring his hair in black and getting him the same clothes he wears for the scene.

You do your best to make sure the few stunts are incredibly safe, working together with the team even though you don‘t understand anything they are talking about, but still make sure they do everything safely.

You panic every time you see Bruce‘s stunt double pratice his falls and jumps, silently letting him do his job and let him focus. Once everything seems to be safe and sound, the action scene starts. Standing by the side, you watch the mission play out smoothly and without any problems. Thank God you didn‘t have enough budget to get explosions in, or else you‘d be worried sick over the planning. The only reason your budget didn‘t fit for some explosions, was because of the cool, high-tech gadget props you bought instead. They are not only cool-looking, but also realistic and mostly useable, if there were real bullets and other things inside.

But just to be sure, you settled on keeping the gadgets unloaded. Just in case something could go wrong.

In all honesty, you expected for Bruce to at least know how to hold a gun the right way. You knew from educating yourself through various videos and posts, so that surprised you. Ignoring the slight surprise, you stay patient beside the stunt choreographer and listen in on the plan of the scene. Shooting it would require some difficulties because of the several cuts and the stunt double, mostly because of the stunt itself.

Andy is going to jump through a window while shooting several enemies inside the room. The coordinator for this scene is trust-worthy and so is the rest of the crew. So, without any further stress, the actors play out their role flawlessly. The camera crew is making sure to capture the action-filled energy of the scene and it seems to work perfectly.

In the end, you worried way too much about it all going wrong in so many ways, that it seems ridiculous to you now. Eventually, after several hours of filming the whole action scene, it‘s time for a bigger break. Bruce looks tired already and you start to feel some kind of guilt for making him do stuff like this. But he auditioned for this role himself, so it‘s also his fault.

You stay back on set to help the rest to pack up the props and clean up the set overall, being busy thinking through the next set of scenes you‘ll have to shoot together after the big break.

A soft tap on your shoulder brings you back to reality and you turn around. Bruce locks eyes with you in an instant, immediately softening his expression.

He asks for cuddles.

»Now?«

You whisper back hushed and take a few steps off the set with him. He looks uncharacteristically vulnerable and almost sheepish.

»A hug will do as well… with you. On a bed. For fifteen minutes.«

His shoulders slump as he waits for your answer, knowing he sounds like a total dork right now. But you couldn‘t care less right now, feeling yourself crumble and give in easily.

»I think your trailer has a bigger bed, no?«

◐

That‘s how you ended up snuggling up together after every tiring day on set. It actually helped setting your mind on track again, being free on talking his ears off with your current plans on the movie and on what dates the interviews are planned. At the mention of interviews, he gets more curious. Of course, you won‘t be making your new relationship public any time soon, the timing just isn‘t right and it could result in more stress than necessary.

So, the interviews you‘ll need to attend with Bruce will be neutral. Well, as neutral as it can be, since you were also invited to a premiere party once the movie will roll in the theaters. But those are worries for your future selfs, you need to focus on the production first.

It happens very rarely, but today Bruce is taking you to set with his own car. You told him countless of times that it is risky and paparrazi are dying to get some crumbs of content or eventual leaks for the upcoming movie. But he doesn‘t seem too scared by it, he is a billionare after all. And who are you to say no to those big, blue eyes?

Arriving, you haven‘t noticed someting suspicious so far. No annoying people with cameras whose shutter is louder than a damn drum kit. It‘s relieving. Finally, something seems to go your way.

»Are these pictures planned? People are freaking out, the hype is getting bigger.«

Malva comes up beside you, holding her Ipad in front of you to see what she‘s talking about.

These goddamn paparrazi.

Her Ipad displays several pictures of you and Bruce walking across the street, his hand resting on your lower back, both of you smiling about something. On the other pictures, you can see the way he gazes down at you, expression soft and loving, almost carefree.

It really does look almost planned, the way you clinge to his side to stay close will make any person think you two are a couple.

You loudly clear your throat and accidentally gain more attention from other crew members, ducking your head with an apologetic smile. Your best friend only raises her eyebrow at you and closes her screen.

»Planned. We did that just a moment ago, totally didn‘t want that to, uh… gain negative attention. All for the hype.«

You quickly answer back and smile at her, rather awkwardly. She keeps her skeptical stare on you and almost seems to ask you more before she decides to drop the topic and move on.

»Just let us discuss something like this next time. Deal?«

»Deal.«

Malva did sound like a disappointed parent, but you really don‘t want to drop the news on her like that. Sighing out, you move on from it and focus on coordinating the rest of the scenes correctly. Using the break to check on the media, you can easily find the hottest topic trending on Twitter at the moment.

Your — the pictures some paparrazzi took — are floating everywhere. It‘s like a disease. Every other acoount is talking about it, pointing out the hand placement and the soft gaze Bruce holds for you.

THE HANDDDD!! is this offocial now? Should‘ve be me. I wish someone looked at me the way Bruce Wayne looks at her both lips are smiling right now Bi panic omg!!

Some comments take you off guard, but you don‘t want to pretend like it isn‘t amusing you, or you were any better as a teenager with celebrity crushes. Forcing yourself not to giggle at your phone, you put it away for the meantime and get back to work like a serious adult.

After the rather uneventful day, you make your way back to Bruce‘s Manor again, having made a meet up again. Mostly consisting of cuddles and reading.

»What do you think of our new photo together? I hit it off, didn‘t I?«

You slowly turn your head over to him, being confused on what he means by that, before it finally clicks in your mind.

»You saw them too? Did you plan this?«

Suddenly, he raises his hands to his defense and shakes his head.

»Of course not! I would‘ve been way more awkward if it was planned… pff, planned.«

You see him cross his arms and glance away, looking like a child who is being accused of having eaten the last cookie. With fresh cookie crumbs on the corner of his mouth.

Sighing out, you let it slide. You end up being cuddled up to his chest either way, basking in the warmth and comfort it brings to your heart.

◐

You finished filming all scenes for the movie and let it get edited and produced by the other team, only dropping in every now and then to check on them and make sure it meets your expectations. The edits and paparazzi pictures even gained their popularity and even hyped up your movie even more. It‘s ridiculous, watching your up-coming movie getting pushed and bigger by some simple edits, that got most probably made by some teenage girls.

You don‘t complain, actually having saved some of those thirst videos yourself. Just make sure Bruce doesn‘t see your phone and you won‘t get into bigger trouble.

Currently, you wait for the last adjustments to be done at the interview before you could start it, already sitting beside the bigger men on the chairs, while the interviewer gets ready to ask her questions.

You are actually a little excited for this, never having answered questions to your own movie. It was always questions for your role, but now you can actually feel like a director too.

Bruce is also prepared beside you, mostly glancing at you before they set up the cameras and the interviewer sits down in front of you.

First, you greet each other, sharing your excitement to be here and answer some questions for the media.

The whole answering questions thing goes on well, making sure neither of you spoil something or give away your secret relationship. Now, the woman before you asks the final question, wearing a sly smile on her face.

»As for the final question, I hope you can answer it without spoiling too much...« with a light nod from your part, she continues, »Did you take inspiration from the vigilante ‚Superman‘ from Metropolis for the superhero in your movie?«

She finishes, awaiting curiously with a twinkle in her eye. She is popular for her usual eagerness and teasing nature in interviews, and it shows now.

Finally, you give her a nod, also smiling lightly.

»Not exactly him, but I did tried to use some references from different vigilantes from around the citys.«

You don‘t notice it, but Bruce tenses up subtly beside you. His eyes stay locked on the interviewer before they fall back to you; making him relax. He speaks up beside you, unable to keep a teasing remark.

»Not the best vigilante to choose from, but fair choice.« His smug expression makes it seem less sharp, giving him a light chuckle back.

»And you know better vigilantes?« You tease back amused, not having expected for him to be so smug but you won‘t complain.

The interview ends well, having a nice feeling about it afterwards. Your ways part with Bruce, sadly having to go back to work and focus on yourself for the rest of the day.

It was an unspoken rule between the two fo you to ignore or answer relationship questions in a sly way, and luckily, there were no questions of the sort. But you know, as soon as questions like “How do you not catch any feelings during the movie?“ or, “Your chemistry is great! Have you seen the pictures on set, because you two look fantastic together.“, you had to be prepared for more harrasment about it in the future.

Today, is one of those days, where you wish talkshows weren‘t a thing.

»So… the edits. Let‘s talk about them! There‘s hundreds, no, thousands of them all around! Have you seen any of those before?« Asks the moderator, while wearing an amused smirk and watches your reaction. You already feel like this can go south really quickly and shake your head, staying composed.

»Haven‘t seen any of them… yet.«

He quirks an eyebrow at you, letting out a light chuckle. »Well, you‘re about to see some of them!«

With a dramatic arm motion of his, the large screen behind you lights up and starts to show some fan made edits of both Bruce and you. Scenes of the trailer and some leaks, as well as paparazzi pictures, are clipped together that make everything look all the more intimate. Not knowing how to react, you cover your face and hope for the best. The live audience cheers loudly, the camera cutting from your flustered state to the audience as they continue on showing the fan made edit on screen. The moderator finally cuts you some slack, laughing at your flustered state. It‘s not helping, but you are glad that Bruce isn‘t here, witnessing it all and maybe throwing in some teasing comments too.

Sighing out, you look back at the moderator and calm down again. What were you thinking, joining a late night talk show like this?

»I never want to see that again...«

»Oh, just one more.« The moderator teases and smiles widely, letting another edit play on screen. It‘s one that you have saved on your phone. Recognising it, you try your best not to react as embarrassed as before. Still, your rosy cheeks give it away, even though you are way calmer now. Finn, the moderator, feels more friendly than ususal and decides to not point it out. For now, the show had enough entertainment after having had a rather funny conversation with him and showing you these thirst edits.

◐

Finally having a day off, you decide to spend it together with your significant other and relax. Bruce however, doesn‘t seem to have enough of creating core memories together, that you‘ll spend thinking about for the next ten years.

»Oh, thanks for the delicious meal, Alfred. You are dismissed for now.« Bruce tells him with a soft smile and nod, watching how the butler leaves the dining room and lets the chaos begin.

Richard, or Dick, the eldest of his sons, seems to be the most adequate, but also the most lively among his brothers. Bruce has already told one embarrasing story about his parkour accidents during a gala, which made you laugh a bit. That made Dick stay a little more quiet in return, getting the hint that more of his teasing nature will be greatly regretted. Somehow, the table was mostly calm during the dinner. Most of the conversation was started by Dick or Bruce, some comments coming from Damian as well. Although, not the nicest.

Still, they managed to behave rather well. That was, until Alfred returned with some scrumptious looking dessert. After serving tea, the table tends to get more lively. Tim and Damian often bicker quietly about who‘s getting the next piece faster, however you try not to pay too much mind and not make it awkward. Jason on the other hand, stays seated by Dick‘s side and makes fun of the two younger brothers.

»No wonder you‘re both such fatasses.«

»Jason.« Bruce smiles at his second son, trying his best not to physically cringe at himself for needing to keep his sons under control in front of you.

You, however, don‘t really care much about the antics around the table. You‘ve seen way worse at a small children‘s birthday party, so this actually feels domestic, in a way.

»It‘s okay, father. We… are sharing this last cupcake.« Damian intervenes and seems tense as he cuts up the last sweet dessert in half. He makes sure to make one half bigger than the other and gives the smaller one to Tim. Luckily, Bruce feels more satisfied and relaxed after that and continues on sipping his tea beside you, at the head of the table.

After the nice dinner with his family, you try to help Alfred with cleaning the table up, but he kindly stops you and insists on doing it alone.

»I greatly appreiciate it, but I believe master Bruce prefers to have you all to himself tonight. I will handle this by myself.« Convinced, you leave the butler alone and make your way to Bruce, who just finished talking to his boys.

»There you are… let‘s head upstairs, darling.« His arm snakes around your waist as you walk upstairs to his master bedroom, getting some well deserved privacy after the long, hard-working week. Inside, he can‘t contain his feelings anymore and picks you up, just to throw you both onto his bed and curl up with you. The room fills with light giggles from the both of you, turning it into a play fight on the bed. It doesn‘t take long for Bruce to get hold of your wrists and pin you down under him, looking as smug as ever over his win. You continue to squirm and try to fight him, although you don‘t try to get away from him; just enjoying the playful moment. Finally, he gets to make your legs go still aswell, putting more of his weight onto you.

»Now, be good and stay still for a moment, hm? Wouldn‘t want to hurt my pretty girl...« You can hear him sigh out lightly as he leans into the crook of your neck, planting soft kisses along your skin before he gently bites down, leaving light marks. It makes you instantly relax, enjoying the way he manages to be so gentle and passionate at the same time. He also relaxes, finally feeling more comfortable showing his affection this way and simply keeps going, not wanting to end this yet. His bigger hand trails down your thigh, urging it to hook around his hip, seemingly craving more contact with you.

A light hum leaves your lips, tangling your fingers into his black hair, gasping lightly once he starts to nibble harder on your skin. It leaves goosebumps down your spine, shifting to wrap your other leg around him too. Suddenly, this doesn‘t feel so innocent anymore.

Bruce tries his best to hold back on a groan, eventually exhales shakily against you. He finally stops his gentle attack on your neck, leaning away to admire his handiwork. You take him in from your position, watching the way his eyes are blacked out and his breathing grew rather uneven. His eyes dart back to you, shifting so he isn‘t crushing you under his weight.

»I could never grow tired of this, you know?«

Bruce secretly cringes at himself for being so vulnerable, so open with you. But judging by your reaction, you seem to love it. The way your eyes soften even more, how you stay completely relaxed and peaceful under him is saying enough. Your hand reaches out to cup his cheek, bringing him closer again to exchange more gentle kisses between each other. The evening turns out in you both being relaxed and endlessly exchanging affection together, growing dissapointed once it gets late.

As you prepare yourself to put your coat back on by the front door, Bruce gets held back by Alfred.

»You know, she can always stay over night. One night won‘t hurt, master Bruce.«

But he doesn‘t relent and shakes his head, a light frown stretching on his face. »I don‘t have time for this, Alfred.«

As quick as he dismissed his butler, he is right back at your side and helps to adjust your sleeves from your coat.

»Let me drive you home,« You go along without argument and follow him outside to the garage, sitting into the passanger seat and let him drive.

◐

»Bruce! We got invited to our first ever premiere-movie-party-thing!«

You exclaim as soon as he picks up the call, making him exhale in relief. After a short pause, he asnwers back.

»Premiere-moive-party-thing? I gotcha,« he chuckles, putting finally closing the big folder on his desk after studying it for hours, »I‘m pretty sure it‘s because we‘re the lead actors of the whole thing… and you are the director.«

His casual approach makes you roll your eyes, rolling onto your stomach in your bed. »Yes, but isn‘t it cool? I never went to one, what is that like? Do you think it‘ll be filled with annoying rich people?« You start twirling your hair as you continue to talk with him, listening to his response with a light smile.

»They‘re alway filled with ‘em. I always get black-out drunk, so it‘s easier to deal with it. The music isn‘t the greatest as well… it actually feels more like a frat party sometimes.« His description of it makes you chuckle, making Bruce smile in return.

»So… do you think we should go there anyways?«

»Of course we should. Especially you, makes your image go up higher.« He replies back without thinking too much. It makes sense, and you don‘t think too much about going to that party. You heard they will be some interviewers, so you better not get black-out drunk.

◐

Arriving outside the tall building, the bass that‘s heard from inside is making you lightly

intimidated. Taking a deep breath, you say your last prayer and enter. In the lobby, you need to check in and get a colourfull wristband, signalling your status so the security knows who to protect in an case of emergency. The others can save themselves.

shortly after you, Bruce arrives and goes through the same check-in as you. He spooks you lightly by snaking his hand onto your shoulder, earning a surprised gasp and smack to his chest.

»Sorry… having fun already?« He leans down to be at your eye-level and sneak in a gentle kiss, but quickly decides against it and smoothly straightens himself again. Although, he keeps his hand on your waist.

»I don‘t know, nothing happened yet. And I don‘t know where the drinks are, I‘m kinda nervous,« you hold your hands out for him, letting him see the light tremors coming from your nervousness. He frowns lightly upon seeing your hands, taking them into his warm ones.

»You don‘t have to worry so much, okay? Just a small party, you‘ll answer some questions and we can leave. How‘s that sound?«

You feel more comfortable after his assurance and nod, restraining yourself from leaning into him and being more affectionate.

Eventually, the party starts properly after more actors and other public-figures arrive, turning the music up a notch. Currently, you‘re having fun and enjoy some sweet, alcoholic drinks, relaxing further and taking things easy. Following Bruce‘s advice of drinking definitely worked, and you soon have your first interview as one reporter approaches you with a camera man by his side. After getting permission from you, the camera starts rolling and the reporter gets started.

»We‘ve already seen some sneak-peeks and the trailer alone gives us so much insight on your chemistry with Andy, so… was it difficult to master such energy or did it come naturally?«

Typical question to try and suck some possible gossip from an actor, but you are greatly used to it, eventually giving him your typical answer back.

»Oh, you know, it really depends if the actors are good or not. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn‘t, so it really depends on both actors to create the right perfomance.« Definitely not the answer the reporter was searching for, but he‘ll settle with it for now. Robert starts again, angling his microphone back to himself.

»What was hardest on this movie? The directing or acting with your own expectations and critique?« A more pleasant question to answer. You respond honestly, giving an open insight of how stressful it really was, being both the director and actor in one.

Eventually, Robert seems to back down with his questions after five more minutes, starting to build up a more casual conversation with you. Logically, you can‘t really back down from it and simply go along, listening to him talk and speak aswell.

»...Yes— and your dress? Seriously, I couldn‘t take my eyes off you the whole interview, I don‘t know why there aren‘t a line of men standing right behind you, waiting for your attention!« You chuckle along, although a bit forced. »No, seriously, I love the way you look tonight. Who was your stylist, I should give her a raise,« Robert steps closer to you, wearing a charming smile, the best one he can muster. You stay still and simply try to joke along and bear it through for a couple more moments, eyes daring out to search for back-up.

»Would you believe that I was her stylist for tonight? All my work.« Bruce steps in, seemingly appearing out of nowhere into the frame and casually lays his hand back onto your waist, wearing a smug smile. Robert pauses briefly before he catches himself and gets back to being a ‘casual-playful‘ reporter.

»No way! I‘ll make sure to write that into my news report later.« The reporter awkwardly says goodbye after receiving a light chuckle from the other and finally shuffles away from the both of you, camera man following him closely. You can barely make out the way Robert scolds his camera man for something that was most-probably not his fault anyway.

»Next time just scream really loud, I‘ll be there in no time.« Without wanting to cause any unnecessary attention, he squeeyes your waist and eventually gets back to the party, searching for some more interviewers too. Without any further thinking, you go back to the bar and get yourself another drink. One drink becomes two, and you make sure to stay leaned against something in order not to lose balance. You settle on being more in the backgrounds for now, but you quickly change your mind once they turn on some up-beat music and free the dance floor. It‘s already packed with other famous people, them being drunk too, no doubt. They happily include you into the chaos, dancing however to the beat all-together. You slip in another few drinks and shots during that time, just enjoying yourself and letting lose. Finally, after what seemed like too long and not enough, you get yourself off the dancefloor to have a quick trip to the bathroom.

With wobbly legs and aching feet, you manage to get there and freshen up, feeling lighter afterwards, but also way more drunk than before. You try to make your wy back to the dance floor, but you briefly lose your sense of orientation and simply stand there, trying to figure out how to get back to the fun girls.

»Are we ookay to head back home, darling?« A smooth voice asks from your side and almost makes you roll your eyes, not recognising it right away.

»Bruce!«

»Hey— yeah, that‘s me...« He chuckles softly, and catches you gently as soon as you lean in to hug him tightly. You feel the way his hands rub along your back before they stop at your sides and just keep you steady on your feet.

»Can we go now?« Bruce leans down to talk better to you, his breath brushing against you ear. You let out a soft giggle, leaning back and meet his eyes. It‘s clear to him that you will try your everything to at least get a last drink before driving home. As expected, you pout at him and glance back to the general direction of the dancefloor.

»No, darling, c‘mon...«

»Please?« You draw out and lean more into him, grabbing lightly onto his shirt. He takes you in, trying his best not to get distracted by your shiny eyes and cute behaivour, most likely trying to play it up for him. He manages to stay stubborn and shakes his head lightly, his expression growing soft.

»We have to go home, okay? It‘s too late and you‘ll regret it tomorrow.« He tries to be as gentle as possible, lightly rubbing your side with one hand. With a final huff, you slump a bit into him and give in. A faint smirk graces Bruce‘s face and carefully guides you out of the building, finally setting you inside the car with care.

The car ride was mostly filled with your yapping, being happy about the fun dances you had together with the strange women, still shining with excited energy, even after the party. Finally at your house, he takes care of you, carefully taking your make-up off before changing you into more comfortable clothes. You don‘t remember much after that, being out cold the second your blanket envelopes your form.

Waking up was the worst part. Your head pounds as if some gremlin is on top of it and slams a hammer onto you repeatedly. After sitting up, you realise that you are already in your fuzzy pyjamas and cleaned up. Not paying too much mind to it, you reach for your phone at your nightstand, almost knokcing off the glass of water on it. Surprised, you study your small table and pick the note off of it.

Hope your head won‘t kill you today. Cute pyjamas, by the way. -B.

←MASTERLIST

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