#when whatever is wrong with you goes on for longer than they can handle
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I'm not a good person - Pat 'The Bunny' Schneeweis // Letters to Felice - Franz Kafka // Alone in a crowd - Dennis Wells // I'm broke, most friendless and I've wasted my whole life - Heather Havrilesky // Jealousy, jealousy - Olivia Rodrigo // unknown // Talking to myself - Yohji Yamamoto // Last one up - Paul Oxborough // A self-portrait in letters - Anne Sexton // Henrikaau
#vent posting? on my sideblog? it's more likely than you think#anyway things have not been great lately (again)#as you could probably glean from this#where's the post that talks about how people will eventually become sick of you#when whatever is wrong with you goes on for longer than they can handle#because that's the flavor of the day#not that i blame them#i am exhausting to be around and i'm well aware of it#i know this episode will pass and i'll go back to feeling like i do most of the time#web weaving#quotes#literature#aesthetic#on self loathing and inadequacy#art#excerpts#fragments#dark academia
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Not Now (PT. 2)
[Platonic! Yandere! Neglectful Batfam Ă Gender Neutral! Sibling Reader]
[Warnings: Mentions of Neglect, Mild General Yandere(ish) Behavior, Arguing, Awkward Tension(?), No One is Having a Good Time, Angst, Implied Past Injuries (To Reader)]
(When I say arguing I do mean it this time. Might be a bit more OOC? Dick is living up to his nickname. This is longer than the first part, just fyi - and by a good 4k or so words. Again, take your time and remember to take breaks!)
Didn't tag anyone on this post since both this part and the first are posted back to back :] Regardless, enjoy!
Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3 (PT. 1). [Series Masterlist]
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"I⊠I just don't think it's a good idea. It doesn't feel right, and- and IâŠ" You couldn't think of much else to say. All the reasons you had felt too personal, and you didn't feel comfortable telling Dick any of them. Not out here, and certainly not while he was in the suit. Though even if he wasn't, you weren't sure that it'd make you any more willing to tell him anything.Â
After all, you wouldn't even share the date of your birthday if he asked now, with or without the suit.
"Yeah, but why? It doesn't make sense to not go to either place just because you have a âbad feelingâ or anything. Even then, you'll be safe, and that's what really matters." That didn't feel like it was the case. Your safety doesn't feel like a priority over him just being able to keep an eye on you, and being able to pull anything he wants to without any prying eyes.
Though it was with that thought, did you wonder when you began to see Dick as someone so untrustworthy that you considered him to be on the same level as a thug out on the streets. Just far more dangerous and capable.
"Look, I just-" You sigh harshly, looking back at Dick as the fire in your chest rose, building up as it poked at your ribs and flesh. Begging for more air, more room to grow. "I'm going to the park. If you're not coming then that's fine by me, and if you're not okay with that, then there's nothing I can do about it." You state, looking forward as you pick up your pace.Â
Dick fumbles over his words before he hurriedly matches your pace, "Wait! Let's try and think this over-"
"Why? Even if we're out in the open, you're still a vigilante. If you can defend and look after an entire city, then surely you can protect one person, right? Not to mention that I can take care of myself." You huff, still keeping your eyes forward even as they narrow. You add, "Besides, again- not many people are out tonight. And if anything- seem to be rushing home, because of whatever is going on. We'll be fine."
"Sure. Yeah. I can handle it- but wouldn't it be smarter to just be inside anyway? That way it's less likely for anything to happen. You have to think rationally-" You swiftly cut Dick off again, really trying to put your foot down and stand your ground here.
"I am thinking rationally. You're a skilled vigilante that's been trained under Batman, and have only improved in skill and technique over the years. If anything goes wrong, and I can't handle it, you can. Not to mention that you have a way to contact the others if things really do go sideways, and you're in the suit. I didn't think I needed to say anything else." You sigh, lightly scratching the cup in your hands with your nail.
"Also, if you haven't noticed, even criminals and thugs are running home. It's like some kind of quarantine or lock down is going on. Some random person eavesdropping on us doesn't seem like it'll be a problem. Let alone with all of the noises that seem to be 'persuading' people to go home."
Dick could only sigh himself before saying, "Alright- okay. Fine. But like you said, I'm still in the suit."
"And?"
"And someone could see, and think that you're a close tie to me or something. You could be put in more danger."
"Are you actually worried about that now? You've been walking beside me this entire time when you didn't have to, and it's only now that you're worried about me being seen with you in the suit?"
"How else are we supposed to have this conversation? And I'm sorry for being worried about your safety, and well-being in the future for being seen with me." You could practically hear the eye-roll in Dick's voice despite knowing that he didn't actually do it. When did he get so sarcastic?
"That's not the issue, and you know that. We could've figured out some other way to have this talk, and you didn't have to walk beside me this entire time." You shot him a glance, causing Dick to sigh again.
"What if something happened while I was up top, and I couldn't react fast enough because I wasn't next to you? Someone could've tried something if I wasn't there, especially because you'd appear to be by yourself."
"So⊠remind me again, who's the paranoid one?"
"Y/n, I'm being serious." Dick states.
"I know. I'm being serious too, and I'm just saying that it's kind of ridiculous to be worrying about that now when it's already been a few minutes." You huff, "And I don't know what you expect me to do about it. I'm not the one in the suit, y'know. Why don't you just go and change somewhere?"
Dick rubs his nose bridge, getting annoyed but not trying to show it as he says, "Fine. I can do that, but at least come with me." He looks at you expectantly as his hand drops from his face. You couldn't help but raise a brow at his words.
"Why?"
"So that I can keep an eye on you� And if anything happens while I'm changing- I'll be able to jump in and help much faster?" Dick said, confused. Talking as if he was stating the obvious, and maybe he was in a way, but you didn't see why he's so adamant about being close to you enough where he could easily protect you or reach you if needed.
"But wouldn't that kind of go against the point of you changing�"
"What do you mean?"
"If I wait somewhere and Nightwing walks off, only for you-know-who to pop up after a little while, and we walk off together, wouldn't that be weird? Or at least hint at a certain something?" You point out, a little confused and surprised that you even had to explain this to Dick.
"C'mon, I won't be that obvious. And even then, no one will be able to figure it out."
"You say that like every other villain or wannabe in Gotham isn't some genius or anything. They're criminals and all that, but they aren't entirely stupid."
Dick sighs, though it came out more frustrated than he wouldâve liked as he ran a hand through his hair once again, "Still, I'd just like for you to at least be close by. I don't want anything to happen to you, and I want to be able to help out as soon and as quickly as I can if anything does." He explains, getting a little closer to you.
"Please, Y/n. Just come with me."
You shake your head, your shoulders feeling far too heavy, and the flame in your chest was much too hot for you to even think about it. You knew Dick wasn't happy about it when he gave you a little room, but still kept close. As if hoping you'd change your mind, despite already knowing the answer.
"I'll just head to the park, and wait a few minutes. I'm not defenseless and can handle myself for a while, and it's not my fault that I could be in more potential danger because someone thought it was a good idea to come see me, and follow me around while in their suit. You can figure it out, and live without me for a few minutes." You huff harshly, adding, "If you aren't there after that time? I'm leaving. That's all." Once again, you pick up your pace, only to be stopped by Dick as he rushes in front of you.
"Wait- hold on. Are you sure about this? I don't think it's a good idea- and how long exactly will you be waiting? Where are you going if you leave? Are you going back to the apartment? Are you going home?" You don't like how hopeful Dick looked when he asked you that last question, but you push your discomfort to the side, and stand your ground.
"I'm an adult, and I'm a L/n. I'm sure about this. You can think whatever you want, and like I said- I'll be waiting a few minutes. If you're not there by then, I'm going to leave." You narrow your eyes at Dick, piercing him with your gaze as you said, "I've made my choice and I'm sticking to it. If you're not happy about it, or don't agree, then you can leave and I'll go on with my night. I'll wait at the park, and that's that." You state one final time before making your way around Dick, and continuing to walk forward. Luckily, he didn't try to stop you again, and if anything â seemed to stop following you entirely.
All you heard was a low scoff from behind you, and the rush of wind.
When you glance back, Dick was gone, and it was only then did you realize how heavy the air felt. Releasing the breath you didn't know you had been holding, you clutch your chest. Your heart aches, and yet you manage to push on.
Tonight wasn't exactly going well for you, but that almost tipped you over the edge.
You were beginning to hate many things about tonight, along with Dick. It almost made you think that maybe you were lucky back when he hardly ever noticed or talked to you. It made things easier, after all, and of course now that you've had your longest conversation with him â things were only getting harder.
Every word he said made him seem bigger, or pushed you down as an attempt to make you smaller. His reasoning could go from making complete sense, to being outright idiotic and paranoid. With each action of his being either too small or way too much.Â
Dick, in that way, was too much.
You could chalk up some of your discomfort and nervousness to your lack of experience with Dick, and being around him. Of course some of his antics and habits would seem strange to you â since you were never able to see much of them, and those that you did notice were from a far, and never up close. You weren't able to experience them yourself, not until now. Though that almost made you grateful for all the times he turned you down or ignored you, seeing as now you could only see how much of a handful he is to deal with.Â
Maybe that could've changed if you were more familiar with him, but it was too late for that now. Even if you did wonder how this whole thing would've gone if you did know him. If you were more familiar with how Dick acted, and had actually managed to spend time with him. If Dick was more familiar with you, and how that'd change this whole situation⊠but, again, it was much too late for that. If he really wanted to know you, he would've taken one of the chances you gave him over the years, and yet he didn't. No one did. No one except for AlfredâŠ
You hope he's okay, at least.
Shaking your head, you push your thoughts to the side. There was no use thinking about 'what if's, not when such thoughts and possibilities kept you in the manor for so long. Not when your mind used them against you, and had you keep that pathetic hope you once desperately clung onto. You promised yourself you wouldn't do that anymore, and so you took a breath, and tried to stop them from coming in. They always slip by, but you try to ignore them. Especially since they caused you so much trouble that could have easily been avoided in the past.
You took a small sip of your coffee, only to pull it away and look at the cup strangely.Â
It was⊠bitter. More so than you remember, and it immediately struck you as odd. Since, Jessica always managed to make your coffee the exact same way every time, and even if she did make some mistakes here and there, the change was never this significant or noticeable. Not like it was now, with the taste lingering on your tongue, almost trying to further stain your taste buds and remain there for as long as possible. As if trying to permanently ingrain itself in your mouth.
You couldn't help but cringe a bit. Maybe getting coffee really was a bad idea after allâŠ
Sighing, you just continue on and brush the weird occurrence to the side. Whatever, you have enough things to deal with and worry about now. There wasn't much you could do about the coffee, and if anything, maybe that just went to further show how horrible your night is going thanks to Dick.Â
Though, you wouldn't push it that far, even if your opinion of him was definitely souring by the minute, but the thought was pretty funny to think about, at least.
The night felt calm for once, and itâs only now, with you by yourself, do you realize how much you needed this.
Sure, Gotham was potentially going to hell, and you might see Dick again in a few minutes, but you don't have to worry about that right now. Just here, in the streets, did you have⊠normal problems. Problems unrelated to a family you no longer wanted to involve yourself with, that also just so happened to be made up of vigilantes. Problems that didn't involve your musical career, and how your rise to fame was becoming both an inconvenience, and a bit of an issue. Problems that⊠just about everyone has dealt with one way or another.
Your coffee didn't taste quite right, you felt exhausted despite having only walked a bit, and your social battery was just about to hit its limit. The air was just a tad too cold for the clothes you were wearing, you had a strong desire to crawl into bed and sleep like you had nothing else to worry about, and really â besides yourself and making a few dumb mistakes, the only thing you really had to worry about here was getting mugged. Maybe even jumped, at a push.
Yet, such things got a light, airy laugh out of you. You felt so at ease by yourself, and during the most dangerous hours of the night, no less. Despite everything, you couldn't help but find a bit of humor in it, and such a little thing even made you feel better. That uncomfortable heat in your chest dying down, and almost going away entirely as you cooled off.
As funny as it was, you felt safer and so much more at ease without the person that was so adamant about wanting to do all of these things, to protect you. How could you not laugh at the irony?
Suddenly, the bitter taste on your tongue didn't feel so bad anymore.
Walking along Gotham streets when it was so quiet still made you feel a bit uneasy, but for the time being you were able to find some small peace with it. After all, who knew when you'd get another breather like this? Especially with whatever business Dick had with you. Vigilante and hero work wasn't exactly known to be light and easy, after all.Â
So, you took this moment as it is. Finding odd little details in the night that helped you relax as much as you could before things continued.
Honestly, you didn't think you were ready for whatever Dick was about to talk about or mention, but you doubt any of it could surprise you. After all, in a city where a villain breaking out of the local prison or asylum every now and again during the week was normal, it was hard to be surprised by things related to such occurrences. Since, it even felt like someone was trying to blow up the place at least twice a month, and robberies were so common that it was a wonder that anyone had any fortune left to protect at all.
Though it did still make you curious about whatâs going on.Â
Obviously, it couldn't be any good, but it just seems too⊠quiet to be anyone that Gotham had already seen before. Seeing as the usual villains and whatnot always made some kind of mess, or made things as extravagant and entertaining as possible. Almost like a certain clown that loved to try and run circles around a certain bat.
Regardless of that, however, you were still more curious about why Dick â or any of the others, really â had bothered to seek you out at all. Sure, the first thing that came to mind was that they need you for something, rather that be for help or something else entirely, but that's only because it made the most sense to you. Why else would they try to find out where you live? You couldn't think of another reason. Though, again, maybe that was because they had ignored you for so long? Even then, you can't think of anything else.Â
Besides help and such, nothing else made any logical sense to you. There is no other reason. There couldn't be, and if there is â you couldn't think of it. They couldn't just be here for you. They almost weren't capable of it. You're sure, since they have made it very clear a long time ago. You were just too naive and blind to see it at first, but now you did, and you don't plan on becoming blind to that againâŠ
Nevertheless, you continue on your little path.
Now that Dick wasn't with you, your journey to the park was short, and much more peaceful and quiet. It was almost calm in an odd way, but you appreciated it all the same.
The park held that strange feeling of abandonment and emptiness that most of Gotham seemed to have tonight â thanks to whatever was going on â but you manage to ignore it for the most part. Making your way around the park, your pace was slower and your breath was a bit heavier. You felt like you were prolonging the inevitable, and such a feeling spawned so much dread that you almost choked on it. However, you manage, and instead try to find a good place to sit and wait for the time being.
Sure, it would be easy to leave and just go on with your night, but you did want to stay true to your word even if only a little. It's the least you could do, since this would be the last thing you'd ever do for any of them, anyway.Â
Besides, you were better than them in that way â following through with what you said, instead of saying a âmaybeâ that'll never come, or a ânext timeâ that'll never arrive. Always stuck to a tomorrow that was always just out of reach.
Your words held meaning, unlike theirs.
Moving on, you eventually found a good spot. It was closer to the center of the park, and the moon could be seen as clearly as it could be with all of the clouds passing by, and building up. The air had an odd moist and damp feeling to it, and it made you think that it might rain after all, seeing as you remember hearing something about it earlier in the day. Yet, that just gave you all the more reason to hope that this whole thing would be wrapped up soon. Though whether that happened with Dick not showing up, or him making good time and keeping things short and simple, you didn't care.
Even if you did hope that he just wouldn't show. For both his sake, and your own.
Settling down on a park bench off to the side of the path, you took a big breath, before letting it all out. You still don't have a good feeling about this, but you'd take all the little victories you could. Since, you managed to avoid going to the manor and clock tower by some miracle, and even got Dick to leave you alone for a little while. Even if a small part of yourself did wish that you had pissed him off enough for him to leave you alone, you wouldn't count on it. He seemed oddly stubborn about sticking around, or to at least keep you around him, and though it made you feel uncomfortable, it unfortunately meant that there was a chance that he'd actually show up again.
You'd pray if you had any faith left, but you don't. Not at the moment, and certainly not with that possibility hanging over your head, just waiting to drop and crush you under its weight. Though for now, you'd try to not think about it as you look around, taking in the dark scenery instead.
The darkness of the night shaded over the park in an ominous, beautiful way. With the trees looming over you, and their leaves providing more shade than necessary. As if trying to protect you from the moon's stare as much as they could. The clouds slowly crawled over the sky, waiting for the perfect opportunity to drop all they were carrying â and leave the burden for Gotham to hold. They covered what could be made out of the blank, pitch black void that was the night sky, with the moon trying its hardest to shine through. To take a glimpse of the chaos below, and judge you in its silence.
A loose breeze drifts by, causing you to shiver thanks to its added chill over the night's natural coolness. The sounds of nature were hardly audible, as if even the insects have been silenced by whatever is going on, and the only thing you could hear was that constant, sickening snapping and cracking of broken bones, and that popping from joints getting dislocated. Even if such noises were much fainter now, thanks to the spot you've chosen, they still managed to reach you here, and dominate all other noises that tried to make themselves known, with its echo.
You could only sympathize with their desperation to be heard, to be noticed â only for the violence to cover all of their efforts. Maybe you'd even pity them, but you already felt foolish over your emotions, and feeling sympathy over noises was silly enough. You have already made enough humorous and dumb choices tonight, so you'd at least try to not make another. Even if you bothering to actually wait here, instead of leaving right away, is dumb enough.
You don't know if it was hilarious or sad how many stupid choices youâre making in one night, and all because of the people you are trying to leave behind. People you were so sure would never bother to look for you or even give you a single thought, and yet here you are now. Waiting for one of them to show up â only because suddenly he couldn't leave you alone. Almost like he couldn't afford to, and now you couldn't help but debate over the humor and sadness of that.
Of course it had to be now, it had to be tonight, that one of them showed up - but you don't know what exactly you're expecting. After all, if one of them were to try and show their face to you despite everything, it would be at the worst time possible. It felt fitting in an odd way, so maybe it was only right that things went down like this. That life throw one of the biggest âfuck you's it could at you, during a time where you are trying to recover. To heal. To get better.
Of course he just had to show his face when you were done with him â with them, and their whole family. It had to be now, when you're trying to move on, did an effort have to be made. It couldn't be while you were in the manor - when you were trying to do the same.
⊠Maybe you should've let him bust open the door to your apartment after all, and just ran away while you still had the chance.Â
Yet, as if knowing you were thinking of walking away while he still wasn't around, Dick finally appeared and made himself known with a little whistle.
You turn your head and face him, his appearance almost making you laugh, but you didn't have it in you to do so. Much too exhausted and fatigued to even try, and your feelings were too mixed up to even consider the thought. Though you did have to admit, he did look a little funny.
Dick almost looked out of breath, but he still manages a smile when you turn to look at him. The clothes he wore looked strangely baggy, and you could've sworn that you saw the smallest glimpses of various price tags that were tucked away sloppily. Which made it look like he really was in a rush, and⊠well, you didn't know how to feel about that. Yet, in that same moment, you caught the tiniest bit of his suit right under the shirt he wore. Further âhintingâ at the fact that Dick had been in such a hurry that he didn't actually bother to change, and instead opted to cover up his suit.
His mask was off, at least, and for a moment you wondered where he put it until you noticed him subtly stuffing something in his pocket. Which is funny as it is concerning.
Dick wore an oversized coat that he left open, with a collar shirt underneath that had two of the buttons unbuttoned, along with sweatpants and shoes that didn't quite look his size. All in all, he looked like a mess, but Wayne's look good in everything for a reason, you suppose.
âMade it just in time! I told you I would, didn't I?â Dick chuckles, still holding onto the coffee you had given him earlier with one hand. The smile on his face quickly grew into a playful smirk, and you didn't know if you should find it weird or oddly scary how much closer he seems to be to the side of him you've only seen at a distance before. The side you have seen at galas or with his family, occasionally. A side you didn't have any personal experience with until now, and the dread you felt from before only grew at that.
âUm, no, you didn't-â You try to point out, only for him to cut you off.
âWell, it probably just slipped my mind, but I'm here now!â He muses, and you canât help but find his tone off putting considering how things ended off a few minutes ago. He both looks and sounds way too happy for someone who was so annoyed with you before.Â
âI didn't keep you waiting, did I?â Dick steps closer, making his way over to you casually. Not a single trace of his previous demeanor could be found.
You can't help but move a little further away, and bite your tongue. You hoped he would've, that he did, but unfortunately he did make good time. Since, from the moment you sat down, Dick appeared only a minute after, and had it not been for his messy outfit, you would've thought that he had planned this whole thing out â down to the very last second.
âNoâŠâ You drag on, looking away once again, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice.
Yet, despite the implications of it, Dick couldn't help but find it⊠cute, in an odd way. Causing him to exhale softly, his smirk dying back down into a smile. Blue hues shining as they look down at you.
He moves to sit down on the bench â noticing a spot next to you, but deciding to sit beside you instead. Still remaining close, but not getting in your space entirely, since he felt like you both weren't at that point just yet. There was an armrest between the both of you, and he felt as if that'd be enough for now. Even if he did want to move closer, he decides that this was the least he could do for having been ignoring your discomfort and clear nervousness thus far.Â
While he still couldnât fully bring himself to acknowledge or accept it â since he still doesn't want to think about it â he at least wants to try and do this small thing for you.
Though, the space between you and him would never be big enough for you to be comfortable. Since just knowing he was around, and that you were in his space, already made you feel a certain way, but he didn't have to know that. Not that you would tell him, anyway.
Dick took this little opportunity to take a slow, long sip of his coffee. The drink not quite to his liking, but he wouldn't complain since you seem to like that little diner, and the last thing he wants is for your opinion of him to get worse, so he kept his mouth shut. Besides, it wasn't even that bad anyway, especially knowing that it came from a place that you enjoy going to.
Silence was quick to fall over the both of you again. Yet, this time, Dick didn't exactly have a problem with it.
Even if you weren't looking at him, he could still see that little twinkle in your eyes that the faint bits of moonlight were able to show and make clear. How your hair matched you just right, and the way you did it and took care of it completed your look even more. Along with how even the little things on your person said so much, yet so little, about who you are now. About who you have become after all this time.Â
A sense of endearment and sentimentality suddenly washes over Dick, and he can't help but feel as if it were just yesterday that you were introduced to the whole family. Though he still couldn't quite describe the look in your eyes then, as there was an unmistakable hint of excitement and unfounded joy that lingered when you first met them all. When you first met him.Â
You were such a little thing back then, and you have grown so much since. Dick still can't help but think about it even as he finally pulls the cup away from his lips, and sighs, content.
You were so small, and little. Your face round and youthful, hands soft and delicate - just like everything about you at the time. The world and the people in it were still so new to you, and you looked just about ready to explore it all. To see every little thing you could, and learn about everything that you found. âWonderâ was the first word he thought of when he saw you that day, and looked at your expression. It was full of that child wonderment.Â
Yet⊠look at you now. Grown, and significantly taller than you were before. Face matured and settled, but still did have a youthful look to it. He notes how your hands did seem to be a bit rougher, and instead of delicacy, he found a gentleness that was always there â but is more prominent now. That look of wonder gone, and now replaced with something more. Something complicated and complex in nature, and yet simple all the same. There's a sense of turmoil but⊠he couldn't look much deeper than that. He can't bring himself to.
Point is, you have clearly changed.Â
Sure, he noted how you looked different and everything before, but now that same conclusion felt different in a strange way. Though maybe that was because he wasn't only looking at you now, but seeing you as well.
Dick doesn't just see the change in your clothes, and how your voice has changed its tempo and volume, but some other things as well. Maybe that's because he's able to connect some things he's learned about you over the course of the entire day, back to you and how you showed yourself now. How those details presented themselves in your appearance and mannerisms.
Itâs a lot to take in, sure, but in this moment of silence - Dick found himself slowly absorbing all of this information, taking it all in and finding ways to love you through it. Even if the changes made a particular fact all the more clear â despite the time he has missed, he did genuinely love the person you have become. He does now, at least.Â
Despite everything he has done to you, or lack thereof, you have managed so much on your own. Despite him and the family not being around when they could've, when they should've, you managed to pave your own path and face all the challenges it brought by yourself - from what Dick could tell anyway. Even if he wasn't fully aware of all you have gone through in his absence, and he knew that as well â youâre still here. You're sitting beside him, looking at the scenery of the park, coffee cup in hand, and just⊠living in this moment with him.
Dick didn't know when such small things made him feel so happy or content, but in this moment, with you, it's like all he could feel was happy and put together, in a weird way. He doesn't know how to describe it, but now that he's here with you, in your space and presence, he feels⊠whole. Complete. Like all the missing pieces he didn't even notice were gone, all fell into place when you were around. With you here with him, he feels the happiest he's been in a long while, and he couldn't even begin to explain why.
He's only really known you for a day, but it already felt like he's spent a lifetime with you.
âHey⊠Y/n?â He spoke up, breaking the silence between the both of you, looking back at the coffee cup in his hands. âI just want to say that⊠I'm happy you're here, and that you let me see you.â He begins, slowly looking back at you, an easy but pleasant smile on his face. It was easily the most natural one he's shown you tonight, and his clear unannounced happiness, no matter how light, made the pit in your stomach grow deeper and wider.
Why is he looking at you like that? And why did it hurt to see it now? Why did it relight the fire in your chest, and make it burn - the flames barely tickling your chest from the inside? Why did you feel like this? What did you do to cause him to wear such a smile?
Why now? What was going on?
âI know we haven't talked much, or really hung out, but this⊠this is nice for what it's worth, and I'm happy that I get the chance to spend this time with you despite everything.â The small bits of moonlight shined in his eyes, almost making Dick appear better than he was. More friendly, charming, and brighter than you saw him as. You couldn't stand the sight. Your dread growing much too big for you to keep looking at him.
So, you look away. Hoping that Dick would get whatever kind of message you were trying to send - and yet, even if he saw it, he didn't bother to decipher it. Words tumbling out of his mouth before he could think them over, too deep in his own feelings to see yours. Though he doesn't seem to mind as he said the words that began to fill his heart, and let them out into the open air. The wind whisking them away, and shoving them into your ears.
âYou⊠mean a lot to me, and I know that, again, we havenât really done much together, or really spent the most time together either, but- you matter to me. Youâre important to me, and Iâm sorry that was never made clear before.â He blurts out, heart aching and swelling at his own words, but Dick just couldnât help himself. He feels like he needs to say something, to say this, and he doesn't want to have to wait any longer to say it. Even if you donât like him or saw him a certain way, he wants to at least say this. To tell you his truth - his new truth. A truth that is becoming more clear to him as the seconds pass. Seconds he spent with you. âI know that Iâve messed up- a lot, and I know that it isnât just me that made things turn out like this, but I at least want to let you know that I do care about you. I justâŠâ Dick ran a hand through his hair, pausing for a moment as countless words he wanted to say float around in his head, but he just didn't know how to say them. Or even say them in a way that would get you to understand, or at least hear him out.
He looks away for a moment before looking back at you. Hand dropping and folding around his cup once again. âIâm sorry, for everything. For missing your concerts and performances, and just- everything. I shouldâve been there, and even if I was busy, that isnât an excuse. I shouldâve made time for you, I couldâve, and yet it just always slipped my mind and⊠I shouldâve never done that to you. You didnât- you donât deserve to go through that, you didnât have to, and yet you did, and Iâm just.. so sorry that now is the time that Iâm realizing this. You⊠you deserve so much more than what we gave you, and Iâm sorry if that made you feel any less than what you are- because you are amazing, and wonderful, and bright-!â
âYouâre.. youâre a lot of things, and I really couldnât list them all since Iâm still slowly seeing it all for myself. Though even then, weâd be here for a while⊠wouldnât we?â Dick chuckles lightly, a tinge of endearment in his tone, with a hint of a softness that was slowly becoming more and more apparent as he went on. His expression softened even more, and yet all you could feel was dread and anger that grew with each sentence that fell out of his mouth.
Was he messing with you? Was Dick trying to make himself feel better about everything, or just mess you up even more? Maybe both?
Why was he saying all of this now? Why tonight? Why now of all times? His words⊠they couldnât be true. They canât be. If they were, if they are â then why did he wait so long? How come he didnât realize anything sooner? Why couldnât he realize it sooner? Why now? Why right this minute, when you were almost ready to let go?
Why is he trying to give you hope over a future, a dream, a wish you never thought would come true? That they, indirectly or not, made you believe would never be made into a reality? No matter how much you did, and sacrificed for them behind the scenes? Was he trying to trick you? Did he really believe that youâd allow yourself to become blind again? That you could actually take the little words that heâs saying to you at face value, after all this time? After all of your wasted effort?
Did he really think that he could salvage what little remained of your nonexistent relationship with him, with just a few words and soft smiles? That you would just suddenly be willing to let him back into your life, after you spent the last year or so just trying to make it so that once you left, youâd never have to turn back? After everything he and the others put you through?
You understood that they were busy. That protecting Gotham and Bludhaven were more important to them than youâd ever be. That they care more about their work and their own lives than they never will about anything youâd try to say to them - you understood that well. It was almost impossible not too with how long youâve had to deal with it, and come to terms with everything over the few months youâve given yourself to truly soak everything in and reflect. The one time you gave yourself a breather to process all that's happened over the years you wasted on them, and think about how you are going to move forward in your life. How youâre going to deal with the family moving forward, or if youâd ever bother to deal with them at all. Though, you're still in that process, and had yet to really think about what youâd do moving forward.
Yet, Dick just had to show up while you were in that process. He just had to show his face after so long, and do this to you. Torment you with his words, and cause further conflict inside of you that you donât need. Causing more heartache and pain that you didnât want, and yet he just had to keep going, he had to keep talking. He couldnât just walk away again like he had all of those other times when you were fighting to spend time with him, to just mean something to him. Dick just had to show up, and lie to your face about this. He just had to finally notice you, and hurt you more.
âIâm⊠Iâm just really glad I got to see you is all Iâm trying to say, I guess. And that I missed you too, in all honesty.â
So he keeps going, it seems. He just has to say that, like youâd believe him. Like youâd truly think that he cared about you more than the criminals in Gotham did. Like he wasnât just lying to your face in an attempt to try and hurt you more. To crush what little part of your heart you still had given to them, and destroy it entirely.Â
Honestly, now it was like he's trying to get you to hate him. To rid of the memories where you used to look up to him, and really tried to see him as your older brother until the reality of it all crushed you. Until reality forced your eyes open, and made you realize the little you had, and the little he cared.
Your own anger was beginning to blind you, and your hatred grew within you - though you hardly found a part of yourself that cared anymore.Â
Even if Dickâs words are true to him, they aren't to you, and thatâs all you cared about. Since, as far as you know, they were never true until he suddenly felt bad, and this whole thing started.
However, you still try to remain civil. Just taking in a breath, and sighing before looking back at Dick. Exhaustion becoming more evident, anger and hatred beginning to bloom â but you manage to tuck it away for now. No matter how frustrated Dick makes you, you could keep your composer. You could keep yourself together, and by God would you try no matter how much you want to just get up and leave. No matter how much you want to think that he wasnât worth the time or energy. At least, not anymore.
âDick, just tell me why youâre here.â You say, getting straight to the point and seemingly completely ignoring what he said before. Not taking his words to heart, no matter how much they sting and add fuel to the flame growing in your chest.Â
Dick looks at you confused, a little taken aback by your response, but just pushes it to the side. Only raising a brow, managing to keep up his smile, âWhat do you mean? I told you already, silly.â He chuckles a bit, his words already pinching at your skin.
âIâm here to see you.â
âBullshit.â You immediately thought, but donât say out loud. Not yet, anyway.
âItâs obvious that somethingâs going on, I mean- do you hear the sounds echoing throughout Gotham? Or, hell, how quiet it is besides said noises?â You ask, tone shifting with every word that spilled out of your mouth, undertone unclear, but Dick didnât like it. âYou donât have to explain whatâs going on, but please, just tell me how or if I can help so that we can both go on with our nights? I know you donât have time for this. Both of us donât.âÂ
Dick can only furrow his brows in response, his confusion growing the more you spoke, but also worried about the tone youâre using with him. A tone that was growing increasingly harsh.
âWhat are you talking about? I never said I needed your help with anything, and didnât I already mention that the others are handling the situation?â Dick said, genuinely confused, and yet that only seems to make the flame in your chest burn brighter.
âThen what are you doing here? Why are we even talking right now if you donât need anything from me?â You ask, voice rising in volume a bit before you bring it back down. The little stings Dickâs words left on your skin turning into a grip around your heart.Â
âIâve already told you, Y/nâŠ. I just wanted to see you.â Dick said again, growing a little more worried now.
âYes, but why? What made you want to see me so badly that you even went out of your way to find out where I live?â You couldnât help but ask, frustration growing but so did your desperation. Over what, you donât know, but all you knew was that you want this to be over. You want to go home. You want to be away from Dick. From them.
Even if your home probably wouldnât feel as safe anymore now that they knew where it is, and you knew that too, but couldn't find it in yourself to care. Anywhere that wasn't in the immediate vicinity of Dick felt better than being here, with him at arm's length.
âI need a reason to see my younger sibling now? I canât just come visit them?â Dick asks, still worried and confused, yes, but an odd tone of sarcasm seemed to develop under his tongue.
âAfter months of no contact? After all thatâs happened?â You say as a meaningless, humorless laugh escapes you before your voice drops and cements itself, âYes. Yes you do, because youâve never visited me before. Youâve never gone out of your way like this, not even to see me in my own room. So why now? Why tonight? Why come see me?â
Your words stung Dick, and you can tell with how he flinches a bit at your words, if only for a brief moment. He even cringes a little, as if they have physically hurt him, but you didnât react much. You want to know why, because it made no sense to you, and by God did you deserve an answer.
There is no reason why he shouldâve come to see you, none. You arenât related to him, and even if you are by law, heâs never treated you like family in the past - just someone else who lives in the manor, but over time you began to believe that he started to forget that too, with how heâd grow increasingly surprised by seeing you in person when he'd occasionally visit.
You meant nothing to him, last you checked. So what was so important that he and the others needed to find out where you live, and seek you out like this? What was going on?
From how you look at Dick, he can tell you wanted to know. That you want a ârealâ answer, one that youâd accept, anyway. Along with the fact that you arenât going to take your words back, finding them to be nothing less than true, and even if they are, they donât hurt any less. Especially considering how far heâs come today. How much heâs seen, and how his view is beginning to change. How you were growing on him without even knowing it, making him realize that some of it isnât even you to begin with. Though there wasnât much he could do about that, not right now. Not with you getting worked up like this, and not with how he's beginning to hurt too.
The truth hurt, it almost always did. Never sparing anyone, and almost acting as a sword rather than weight. A dagger than another page, but paper cuts did exist for a reason â he supposes.
âI.. I know that it might seem hard to believe, considering everything, but that really is all there is to it.â Dick says, trying to explain as he clutches onto the coffee cup in his hands, âI just want to see you because I was worried, and I⊠I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Thatâs all.â
âThen what about the others? Why find out where I live? Whatâs with all the noise?â Your desperation was becoming a little clearer as you spoke quickly, the questions falling out of your mouth as your heart began to squeeze tightly. The smoke that the fire in your chest was creating, started to reach and fill your lungs little by little with each passing second.
âThe others are busy taking care of the city, and how else am I supposed to see you? You werenât answering any of my or Timâs calls or texts. WeâŠâ Dick drags on a little before just sighing, looking dejected, âI was worried about you- I am worried about you. I thought something happened, and I had to know if something did. Is that so wrong? Can I not check on my younger siblings anymore?â
âThat's not what I meant, and you know that.â You point out straight away, but did falter the slightest bit when he mentions how you were ignoring them trying to contact you earlier. However, you didn't back down. âAnd both of you just started contacting me today. I didn't have any time to answer either of you before you showed up at my door.â
âReally? You had absolutely no time at all to pick up the phone? Not even send a quick message, or even read our texts?â
âI was busy? And was doing something else, so I couldn't get to the phone right away.â
âFor several hours? Y/n, you've got to be kidding me.â Dick chuckles out, obviously not believing you, which ticks you off even more.
âWhat, so I can't do other things? I have to be at your every beck and call, now?â You scoff, rolling your eyes. âNone of you have ever contacted me first, so I'm sorry that I didn't have any time to respond to whatever you both had to say. I have my own life to deal with, you do know that, right?â
âThat's not what I-â Dick cuts himself off, just letting out a sigh before speaking again after thinking over how to reword what he wants to say, âLook, just- what was so important that made it so you couldn't answer the phone?â He asks instead, searching your expression for something, and furrowing his brows when he couldn't find it.
â... That's none of your business.â You answer instead, narrowing your eyes at him a little. Whatever you did in your life, he didn't have to know. He doesn't have the right to know, not anymore. You may have been willing to offer him this one chance to ask something from you to help with whatever is going on, but that was all, and where your generosity ended. It wasn't a chance to reconnect, or to rebuild what never was, and still isn't.Â
If there's anything that this whole situation has told you, it's that you shouldn't have tried in the first place - and that maybe, just maybe, you should've left sooner. That was clear to you now.Â
â...â It's like Dick could tell things were getting worse this way. He didn't know what was causing it or how, but he could feel it. Especially with how you were growing increasingly upset, and how he was as well.Â
So, he tried to settle down a little and just took a breath. At this rate, he could only dread how things would get, and so he at least tried to change the direction of things a bit. Yet, he still couldn't help himself either. Maybe he didn't deserve to know, but he did want to ask.Â
âLook, just-â he tries to find the words to say, to not make this whole thing worse than it already is, and settles on a simpler question. One he figures you can handle, one he hopes does what he wants it to do. âCan you at least tell me why you keep ignoring me when I say that I'm here to see you? Or at least why you just⊠brush it off?â Dick manages to say, eyes never once leaving you, but for a different reason this time.
He just wants you to open up, but how could you do that when he kept you out for so long? When he locked that door so long ago, and forgot where he left the key? Leaving him to never know of the chair you left right under the handle.
â... What do you-â
âYou know what I'm talking about, Y/n, just⊠please.â Dick almost pleads, which makes you uncomfortable. Causing you to press your lips into a thin line once again, âI don't want this toâŠâ he doesn't want to say it outloud. He couldn't bring himself to. Especially when he doesn't want it to be true. To be made into reality.
âI just want to know, Y/n. So please, just tell me? Because I don't understand why you keep avoiding it, or just don't acknowledge it at all.â Dick says instead, which causes you to grow quiet in the process.Â
â...â
You couldn't think of anything to say, just being able to look at him before glancing away and taking in a breath of your own. You couldn't bring yourself to answer the question because - what were you supposed to say? What are you supposed to say? The truth? Or make up a lie? Though even if you picked one or the other, would it be for yourself? Or for Dick?
You didn't know, and a special kind of uncertainty came with that, jabbing your gut and making the flame within you crackle harshly. You hate this. You hate this more than what their inaction did to you, and almost as much as the realization that it's because of them that you're in this position to begin with.
âWhy do you think?â You begin, emotions and thoughts swarming in your head and squeezing your heart. You want to not care, to brush it all off as you have before, but only find yourself hurting despite everything. Why does your chest hurt so much? Why did it feel like something was pressing against it, threatening to pierce it? âWhy do you think that I'm âignoringâ it or just⊠dismiss it?â
Dick hates how you look away, and the swirl of emotion he saw in your eyes when you looked at him before. Which only made his own emotions grow like a heavy weight, threatening to fall on him. To crush him, and only leave the tiniest parts of himself behind. Parts that still hung onto that false hope he made himself.
He knew, or at least had an idea, but he ignored it. Dick wants to hear it from you, even if he doesn't know what he's hoping for with that. He knows of his faults, and yet not the entirety of them - at least, that was the impression he was getting from all of this.
He isn't blind, but there are only so many things he could let himself see before the ugliness of it all rears its head at him, and snarls. Before the quiet part that he refuses to glance at, becomes loud.
âI⊠I don't know,â Dick manages to say after a moment, still looking at you as he searches for something, anything that will point things in a different direction. Something that will give the little hope he has anything to cling on to.
Something he doesn't find.
He takes in another breath, âCan you please just⊠tell me? I do want to know, I really do- so just, please. Tell me why you keep ignoring what I'm saying?â
âI'm not-â You cut yourself off, speaking before you could come up with a response, the words tumbling out of your mouth quickly before you caught yourself and take in a slow, uneven breath. âI'm not ignoring what you're saying. I'm not, but- justâŠâ You drag on before finally letting out a sigh. Some of the tension freeing itself from your body, but not enough for it to let you truly calm down or relax.Â
âWhat do you expect me to do? To say?â You finally manage to voice it outloud, to ask as you look back at Dick briefly. With the moon trying its hardest to peek through the clouds as they begin to fill and crowd the sky. âYou haven't checked up on me in all the years I was in the manor, and, hell, I doubt you even know where my room is-â
âI know where it is.â
â- and even if you do, that doesn't change what happened. Or, really, what didn't.â You narrow your eyes at Dick's sudden words, but don't comment on them as you continue, voice wavering slightly, âYou've⊠never checked up on me before, or even asked me if I was okay- we barely even greeted each other, and I didn't see you around all that often. I didn't get to. So I'm sorry if it's hard for me to believe that you just suddenly care, or want to check up on me after all this time.â You say, still biting your tongue and holding yourself back from sharing more than you should. From giving more than you already have.
â...â Dick's lips press into a thin line before he goes to speak again, âI understand that, but⊠why can't that change now? Why can't I care about you now?âÂ
âIt isn't about what you can and can't do, Dick. Nor what can be changed now or not, it'sâŠâ A quick, small groan escapes you as you try to gather the words you want to say, and finally let them out when you do, âit's what I'm used to, Dick. That's just how it is.â
Finally, dread made its way into Dickâs heart as well, âSo⊠that's it? You're just âused to itâ? And I can't change that?â
âI donât know, can you?â You asked sarcastically in a dead tone, already tired of all of this, and yet the fire in your chest continues to burn ever so brightly. âYou havenât really done a good job of that thus far, if that's what youâre trying to do. Iâll say that much.â Your words hurt, you could tell right away. The way he looked at you said everything, but you didnât try to look deeper than what presented itself on the surface.Â
âThis isnât some kind ofâŠ. âreconnecting sessionâ, stuff like that doesnât really matter. I thought something serious- something important was going on, or had happened, thatâs why I bothered with⊠all of this.â You point out and explain, only watching as the expression on Dickâs face morphed into something else. Something you couldnât decipher, but didnât like looking at. A face that made your stomach twist, with dread pouring out of every crevasse it could manage.
âAnd why would you think that? I donât remember saying anything that would hint at that, and even then I wouldâve said it outright.â
âYou suddenly appeared at my door in the suit, and at some point was banging on it. How could I not think something was going on? Or that you didnât need something from me? That something serious wasnât happening? Especially when I donât remember telling any of you where I live-â
âOkay, okay. I⊠I get it,â He didnât, at least maybe not to the extent one would hope he would, but he didnât want to argue. Not here, and not with you. Especially not when he was really beginning to see you. âBut still⊠I want to change that. I want to make it up to you and fix things. Is that so bad?â
â...â You had no response to that, but even if you did, what could you say? You had imagined countless instances like this, but those situations werenât real â this one was. In those scenarios, you always had something to say, rather it be good or bad, and you always knew what to do. Yet here, now that it was actually happening, you had nothing. You didnât know what to do or say, and even if you did have some things you wanted to just let spill out, you kept them in. You didnât want things to get worse either, but the more Dick talked, the harder that became.
Why couldnât he just be the person from your thoughts and dreams? The person you always saw him as until now?
âI justâŠâ Dick tries to gather his thoughts, not exactly liking your silence but trying to push on anyway. He finally had a chance, and heâd be damned to not take it. âI want to make things right, and yeah, maybe it's late- really, um, late, but I still want to try.â He manages to say, taking a small, quick breath before he continues, an easy smile trying to settle on his face.
âYou deserve better, and I want to be better for you. Things may not be the same, and sure, it might be a bit awkward-â He chuckles slightly in between his words, â-but I think that we can⊠work it out if you just give it a try. Give me a chance-â
âBut I did.â You manage to say, cutting Dick off. He has to fight for his smile to not falter immediately, unaware of how your heart pounded harshly in your chest, the fire it held growing and clawing at the bars of its cage that was your ribs and flesh. Scorching your lungs, and the smoke causing your throat to close, making it harder to breathe.
â... What?â Dick said, partially confused but still trying to at least seem optimistic. A weight of its own beginning to press down on him.
â... What do you think I did all of this time?â You ask, looking away for a moment, glancing up at the covered moon before looking back at Dick, âWhat do you think I did all of those years I spent at the manor? Before I decided to move out, and be on my own?âÂ
â...â Dick didnât have an answer, not one he said right away, anyway. Not one that wouldnât make him look bad, but he didnât know what was worse. Staying quiet when he knew a part of it, or saying the part he knew and risk being wrong, revealing how he still didnât know the full picture despite everything. Despite getting a glance into a life he knew he wasnât involved in, and feeling more guilty all the while.
However, you decide that his small bit of silence was enough of an answer, and just as Dick opened his mouth to say something, you spoke again. âMost of my time in the manor Iâve spent trying to give you chances- to give the others a chance. Trying to give opportunities to just do something, try anything, and⊠well,â You look away fully this time, caressing the coffee cup in your hand, itâs dying warm doing little to help you, causing you to draw your attention to the shaded greenery of the park instead.
âWe both know how that turned out.â
If your words didnât hurt him before, they definitely did now. Even as Dick fought to keep that smile of his up, it was pointless. You were right, and he knew that. Even if he didnât know the true extent of your words, he was at least aware of the times where youâd try to get them to see you perform, to hear your songs and listen to your music that had gotten you this far. He knew that much, and yet he still couldnât help but try. He wants to mean more to you, to do what he hasnât done up until this point, to truly be your older brother, to be your family - despite how long heâs been unable to do that.
âI⊠I know, and Iâm sorry.â Dick could only say that much, even if it did little in the long run, and a part of himself could tell that his words only made whatever you were feeling worse as you inched away from him, the sight of the small action breaking his heart even more.
âMaybe that doesnât mean much, but itâs true. Iâm just⊠sorry that things turned out this way. That we- that I never noticed how hard you were trying until now, and even if it is late, I want to be honest and say that Iâm sorry.â He adds, finally managing to look away as well as he looked down at the cup in his hands, thoughts swarming and eating away at his heart. Even if they were going too fast for him to process them all, they hurt him all the same and caused his worry to grow. âIâm sorry for everything, for never noticing what was going on or the extent of it, or appreciating the effort you tried to put in for our attention, for just not⊠being around. You deserve better- and I want to give that. I want to give you want you deserve and finally be-â
âStop.â You said under your breath, voice wavering as you take in a shaky breath. Yet, even as it falls upon deaf ears, and Dick couldnât make out exactly what you said, he still pauses for a moment before speaking again.
â... I just want to fix things, Y/n.â Dick says instead, but it doesnât make you feel any better, nothing does.Â
âYou mean a lot to me.â You just want him to stop.Â
âAnd maybe thatâs⊠weird to hear with everything thatâs happened. But it is true, and Iâm sorry I never made that clear before.â You want him to stop lying to you, to stop trying to make you feel better. Youâve been doing fine on your own without him, without them, and so the only thing you wanted now was for Dick to stop and leave. To act like he had before, and go back to ignoring you.
âSo⊠letâs change that, okay? I⊠I want to spend more time with you.â You want him to shut up. You want it so bad that it hurts to hear him talk as he goes on and on. His voice ringing in your ears to a point youâre convinced that theyâll bleed if this continues on for any longer. If he continues to talk for any longer.Â
âIâm being honest, I really want to try and be your-â
âStop⊠please, just- just stop.â You manage to say, voice small and wavering as you try to take in another breath. You want to be unbothered, unhurt, painless, and numb, but you canât and you donât know why. You thought you had gotten used to this, and you had, but to hear that - to hear the words youâve wanted to hear for so many years - that hurt more than anything else. The pain was indescribable, and its result only made that fire grow, the flames scratching at your chest even harder, and your heart bleeding as a result.
Suddenly, all the progress youâve made over all the months youâve been away feel useless now. Reduced to nothing in Dickâs presence as his words stripped down your walls in the most violent, volatile ways possible.
Once upon a time, you fought to have a single conversation with him that lasted more than just a few short exchanges, and now youâd do anything to have that back. For him to go back to the Dick you grew up with, the one you fought to even have to look at you for more than a few seconds.
âYou canât do this to me.â You said without thinking, voice weak and shaky as you scramble to keep yourself together, to hold back tears that you refuse to spill â refusing to shed any more over them. Refusing to let all of your progress go to waste just like that.
You were happy, you have been happy these past few months, and you refuse for that to be taken away from you.
âWhat? Y/n, what do you mean-â Dick tries to speak, but you donât give him the luxury, not after this. Not after what heâs been doing to you.
âYou canât do this to me,â You repeat, trying to breathe and fight past the smoke building in your lungs, nearly gasping for air as your teeth begin to grind, âyou canât- you just canât. So stop⊠please just..â You try to take in another breath, no matter how small it is or strangled it feels.
âJust. Stop.â
â...â Itâs like no matter what Dick tries to do, things end up becoming worse, and he hates that he doesnât know why. He can't understand why.Â
Clearly heâs hurting you, he could see that no matter how much he doesnât want to, but he doesnât know what heâs saying thatâs hurting you. He doesnât know what heâs doing thatâs causing you to become so upset.Â
After all, donât you want this? Donât you want him to try? For your efforts to be reciprocated? Donât you want to be family too? For him to try and be what heâs supposed to have been all of this time? Donât you want him to try and be your big brother?Â
You couldnât have given up yet, right? There was no way you could have. You couldnât have given up after all you have done, after all the awards and such he saw that youâve earned over the years â awards that were still in your room. You couldnât have given up. That's impossible, thereâs no way. No one would throw all of that away, right? No one would do all that you have, only to just put it all behind them - not anyone that Dick could think of at the moment.
⊠He hated how he thought of it anyway. How the thought creeped into his mind, and remained there. Letting his dread and worry grow as reality began to sneak its way into his brain.Â
Dick doesnât want to think about it â let along consider the idea, but this isnât about him. This isnât about what he thinks or feels.
This is about you, and despite his words, he hates that he had forgotten that already.
âY/n,â He calls out to you softly, really trying this time, and you hate that detail with all of your heart, âcan you just please tell me whatâs wrong?â Dickâs words make you physically pause, even causing your rushing thoughts to come to a halt. They repeat in your head once more, and you can only think one thing.
Is he seriously asking you that?
âI know that youâre upset, but I want to work through this with you. So, just tell me so I can help, okay-?â
âStop- God, just please stop, Dick.â You manage to say, already getting slightly choked up before you manage to shakily exhale, trying your hardest to keep it together as your heart squeezes and your chest tightens. You canât bring yourself to look at Dick, but your teeth grind as you scramble to keep the flames eating up your body from the inside, trapped and hidden away.
âYou canât do this to me,â You say more desperately than you wanted to, a few tears developing that you fight back violently to keep them from spilling, your own teeth getting crushed and feel as if they were beginning to chip and break with how hard theyâre grinding against each other. âYou canât- you canât-â You struggle to get the words out, nearly gasping for air as that sickening, thick smoke threatens to escape your lungs.
âYou canât do this to me, you canât give me hope.â You finally say, voice straining as your breath trembles. When you finally do look at Dick, neither of your expressions are good ones. Both filled with mixes of emotions, but his was more deep and almost controlled, while yours was frantic and ever changing.
â... What?â
âAfter all of this time, after everything- everything Iâve been put through. Everything Iâve been trying to move on from-â You struggle to breathe momentarily, but manage to get yet another gasp of air before continuing, âyou canât just try and give me hope like that. You canât. You just- canât.â
Now itâs Dickâs turn to pause as he processes what you said, each word making the weight in his chest sink deeper and deeper until it reaches his stomach. The very thing he seems to dread is becoming more real with every minute that passes and he hates that more than anything. He wants to ignore it, to push past it, but how can he do that when itâs right in front of him? How can he do that when something worse could be laying underneath everything?
He doesnât want to think about it, and so he doesnât and tries to tuck it away as he goes on to say, âBut⊠why? Why canât I give that to you? Why canât I try to help you?â
âDick, please, for the love of god just-â You want to say it, you really do, but manage to hold yourself back with the little self control you have, and simply just take in the biggest breath you can manage, and sigh just as deeply. âNevermind, and just- you know what? Weâre⊠weâre done here.â You say instead. Placing your coffee cup on the bench, not even caring that you barely finished the drink, and move to stand up.
âWhat? Wait- what?â Dick asks, sitting up and tensing when you stand, but not making a move just yet, even if it was clear that heâd do something. What, you donât know, but you didnât notice anyway as you were too focused on yourself and getting out of this situation.
âWeâre done here, what else do I have to say?â You donât look back at Dick, instead continue to try and steady your breath. Trying to calm yourself down, and finally do something to quell the burning flames inside your chest, âThis isnât going anywhere, and we arenât discussing anything important, so⊠letâs call it here. Iâm leaving.â You say outright, being blunt this time as you make a move to step away-
Only to be stopped when Dick suddenly grabs your wrist, his grasp a touch too tight.
âHold on- who said you get to decide that?â Dick asks, having sprung up to grab you as swiftly and quickly as he did, a flash of panic showing on his face before he pushed it aside and swallowed his nerves. He tries to manage another smile, even if it doesnât reach his eyes yet again, âLetâs just talk about this, okay? Thereâs no need to overreact.â
âOverreactâŠ?â You glance back at him, physically feeling as all of your previous progress to calm yourself was quickly diminishing, the fire only roaring to life at Dickâs words, and itâs like he could feel it too with how his smile faltered the smallest bit before he tried to pick it up again.
âOkay- maybe not overreact, but we can still talk about this⊠canât we?â He says instead, as if realizing his mistake once you point it out. Scrambling for something, anything.
You donât say anything right away, your chest only hurting even more, âAnd talk about what, exactly?â You ask, just barely being able to hear the clouds overhead groan in displeasure, âWhat is there to talk about? We have nothing to discuss, and so we should just end things here.â
An airy laugh escapes Dick, almost as he canât believe what youâre saying, and yet he continues to stare at you. All he does is raise a brow, his heart pounding as that weight in his stomach drops further, âAbout⊠everything?â He says, as if a little unsure of how to word it, but keeps going anyway, âAbout the family, about us, about you- everything! What isnât there to talk about?â He counters, furrowing his brows a little.
He knows you want to leave, but he canât bring himself to let you go. Not when he doesnât know when heâll have this chance again. Not when heâs so close â but to what, he doesnât know anymore. All he knows is that it deals with you, and thatâs enough for him.
â... But there isnât anything important to talk about.â You point out as if it was obvious, raising a brow of your own as you look back at Dick, ignoring how the longer Dick held onto your wrist, the heavier your dread became. Nearly making it impossible to breathe despite how you were trying to act now, âAgain, I even bothered to do any of this because I thought something was going on or that you needed something from me, and I turned out to be wrong, so thereâs no other reason for me to be here.â You try to be logical, or seem that way, anyway. You try to give whatever bullshit reason you can, saying anything that you hope would just get Dick away from you and just let you go.
â...â Dick hated your words with a burning passion he didnât even know he was capable of feeling, and the breathy laugh of disbelief that escaped him only furthered his own change of heart, âSo Iâm not important to you? Our family isnât important to you? Because of everything thatâs happened? So our effort to change everything isnât important to you? It matters that little to you now that youâve lived on your own for⊠what, a few months?â
âWhat are you talking about? Youâre asking me that as if you know me, and- news flash, you donât. So get a hold of yourself- and let me go already!â You yank your wrist away from Dickâs grasp, pulling it back towards you harshly.
The moment your wrist leaves his grasp, his hand twitches, but he manages to hold himself back and just let his hand fold into a fist as it falls back to his side. His eyes pinned on you once again, never leaving you, âWhy canât I get to know you now? Why canât that change, Y/n?â He asks, his own tone changing without him noticing, making it sharper than he meant it to be, âWhy canât you just let me in?â
The visceral hatred those words spawn in you is hotter than words can describe, and felt as if it was burning right through your chest, melting your muscles and organs down to nothing. You not only struggled to breathe, but it hurt to even take in the smallest breath. ââWhyââŠ? Youâre asking me, âwhyâ?â A small, airy, pathetic laugh escapes you, a look of disbelief clear on your face.
âOh, I donât know, maybe itâs because of the years that have passed? That every attempt Iâve made to do what youâre asking me right now- was ignored until I didnât try anymore? Until I go off and try to actually live my life, that you ask for me to let you in? For things to change?â You almost spat out, barely managing to take in a steady breath, âI donât know, Dick. I donât know what you want me to say.â
Dick could barely pull himself together. Everything was falling apart, and even if he could see that, he could barely get a grasp on his own emotions that he was failing to calm down. He wants you to understand, and he wants to understand you too, but god was everything making it so hard. He just couldnât understand why you were being so stubborn about this, and why you wouldnât just hear him out.Â
So, in the midst of his own frustration, he tsked and spoke without thinking.
âI havenât done anything to you! Why are you acting like this?â The moment those words left Dick, his eyes widened and he scrambled to recover, âWait, I didnât mean-â
âIsnât that the point?â You cut Dick off, the smoke finally escaping your lungs as you furrowed your brows, chest tightening as more unwanted tears began to build, âThat you did nothing? That you- and everyone else didnât do a goddamn thing?â
âYou try to act like I owe you something. Like I owe you this. Like I owe you my time, but you know what? You really donât, because back then? I clearly didnât deserve yours. I wasnât worth your time, and now, years later, you think that I owe you mine? That you can just say whatever the hell you want to my face, because I dared to try and be respectful and civil and do all of this shit for you?â There was no holding back anymore, not when Dick dared to say something like that to your face when youâve been trying so hard to act calm and civil around him. To give him a chance to say his piece and leave.
The one time you tried to do something for them, for him, after months of being away from all of them, and he dared to say something like that to you?
âThen think again. Because unlike before, I have some god damn self respect and wonât stand for your bullshit anymore.â You spat out as the sky above growled even louder, âYou donât get to say that to me, Grayson.â
Yet, despite your words, a single measly tear manages to slip past your defenses and slowly, painstakingly roll down your cheek. The clouds above seem to have taken that as some sort of sign, as a few small drops of water fell from the sky and hit the pavement under your feet.
Dick pauses after that, if only for a moment as he looks over your expression before sighing. âOkay- fine, Iâm sorry. I didnât mean to say that⊠but,â he took a short breath before saying, âthat still doesnât answer my question, Y/n.â
â...â All you could do was stare at him. Another pathetic, airy laugh escaping you all the while. He really was unbelievable.
âWhich one? The one where you asked why things canât change? Why I wonât âlet you inâ? Or why Iâm âacting like thisâ?â Dick clenches his hands into fists, squeezing them before he lets go.
âWhy canât things change, why canât the relationship between us change?â You hate the tone he used and how the look he gave you expressed and showed more than words could describe. A certain desperation in his eyes that you wish didnât exist, that you didnât notice.
âYou never showed me that it could change. That it would always stay the same as it has for the past few years-â
âBut why does back then matter? Why canât we focus on now? On this?â He gestured between the two of you, âCanât we just- I donât know⊠move on from that?â You didnât know if you wanted to laugh, or actually allow yourself to cry, especially when a few more raindrops fell from the sky. He couldnât be serious, could he? Did Dick actually just say that, and to you of all people?
âMove on?â You say, a few more tears spilling despite your efforts to stop them, their touch burning your skin and sinking into it like acid, âYou want me to move on from that? Move on from the years of my life that you werenât a part of? To just forget all thatâs happened?â
âYou donât have to forget⊠maybe just, push it aside so that we can work on this! On usâŠâ Dick says, dragging on a little before he takes in another quick breath, âIs that so bad? Donât you want to be family-?â
âYou donât get to say that to me.â You immediately cut him off the moment Dick even tries to mention family again, âYou donât get to say what I want or what I have to do- after everything Iâve done for you! For the others-! You donât get to say that to me anymore!â
âY/n, please, just calm down-â
âNo! You donât get to do this to me! To say all of this shit to my face-â You struggle to speak, your words catching in your throat and nearly choking you, but you manage to continue. To continue to say your part, and finally say the words your heart has been longing to say, to give yourself this much, to finally feel this out, âDo you even know how much Iâve done for you- all of you? How much time I spent doing all of these things I thought you guys liked just so that I had a chance to hold a conversation with any of you? To just mean something? To actually be part of the family, only for no one to show up-?â
âNo one asked you to do those things! No one asked you to do anything!â Dick snaps, but immediately tries to reel it back, âI understand that things didnât work out before, but Iâm here now, arenât I?â
Your brows furrow even more, and your teeth grind so hard that it feels like theyâre chipping away, âNo one had to ask! Hell- none of you ended up caring anyway! It was a waste!â You shout, voice raising the more you talked, tears mixing with the drizzling rain, âIt was for you- I did everything I could think of to just talk to you, and now you want me to do more for you? After everything Iâve already done? After all the effort that was put to waste because of you?â At this rate, you knew you werenât talking to just Dick anymore. Instead, he acted as an extension, in your mind. An extension to something bigger, something greater than himself. Something more than he was.
Dick falters, but just sighs again, âNo one told you to do all of that,Y/n]. You didnât have to do anything but just try to-â
âTry to what, Grayson? Try to what?â You cut him off, eyes swirling with untold emotion as your gaze pierces into him, âGo on, tell me what else I had to do. What I shouldâve done.â
â...â Dick looks at you for a moment before speaking again with a small huff, âYou couldâve tried a different approach, or maybe, talked to us?â
â...â You donât know what you want to do more; try to strangle Dick, cry harder, or leave again after trying to kill him. âYou did not just say that.â You manage to laugh out, but itâs broken and far from genuine. The humor in it long gone, and all that was left was a sickening, uncomfortable emptiness where it once remained.Â
âWell, Iâm just saying-â
âYou did not just say that shit to me when youâve been the one shooting down every conversation Iâve tried to have with you. You- the person whoâs supposed to be the âfamily manâ, and weâve barely even talked. And let me tell you now, Iâm not the one who hasnât been trying to talk or avoiding it.â A pained smile crept up your face as you laughed breathlessly in between your words once more. Not even caring anymore as you let the fire burst from your chest, and have its ashes and smoke spill out of you.
Dick narrows his eyes and furrows his brows a bit, ââAvoiding itâ? What the hell are you talking about? I havenât been avoiding you-â
âThen please explain where the hell youâve been all of my life until now? Why you could never follow through with what youâd always tell me? Why you come to me now, when I gave you years to do or say anything?â
âI⊠I was busy, okay? You know that,â He tried to lighten his tone with a chuckle but it did little to help, and only showed his own strain, âI donât always have time to come to Gotham-â
âBut you make the time to do it anyway. You make time to visit, especially when it comes to Damian.â When Dick falls silent again for a moment, you take in a shaky breath and sniffle slightly, feeling awful in every sense of the word, âI guess I just wasnât worth it, right? I wasnât worthy of your oh so precious time, but everyone else was. Something else was.â Your expression darkens slightly as your strained smile drops completely.
âThereâs always something else, right? Something else to do, someone else to see. You could make time, alright, but just couldnât for me.â
âThatâs not what Iâm saying, Y/n.â
âThen please, enlighten me, what are you saying, Grayson?â Dick hates every time you say that, every time you refer to him by his last name. It feels like there's a deeper meaning to it that he refuses to see, and just hearing you call him that instead of anything else only forces him to remember that. To remind him of his own faults, both past and present.
Maybe he'd wonder how he keeps messing things up or why he keeps saying everything besides what he actually wants to say, but he's too deep in his own feelings to even think about that. Even if the answer laid within the action itself.
âSaving the city- having to look after Bludhaven and Gotham sometimes, and even the world on occasion- doesn't really give anyone a lot of time to do certain things. You know I'm not over all the time, and that I'm not always⊠y'know.â
âDick Grayson?â
âYeah! And justâŠâ he took a breath before sighing once again, âAll I'm saying is that a different approach could've been taken.â You hate how every word he said only seemed to validate concerns you had in the past. Thoughts that still liked to linger every now and then when you caught yourself still thinking about what could've been, and if certain things happened, would that really change anything?
It's funny that only now were you truly beginning to think otherwise.
âSo⊠what?â You say in a dry voice, âAre you saying that I shouldâve been just like you? Just like the others- and give up my dream, what I wanted to do- give up my passion, because at least then I would be able to talk to you? Because I would have a higher chance of even seeing you?â
âThat's not what I mean, Y/n, and you know that-â
âNo. No I don't. I don't know that, and honestly? I have no idea what the hell youâre even trying to tell me right now besides that I shouldâve tried harder. That I didn't do enough, because clearly- spending all of my time trying to do things for you, to accommodate for the whole fucking family that couldn't even stand for me to be in their presence for even a few seconds-â You took a shaky breath, more tears spilling out and escaping you, more falling than you would've liked, âthat's not enough. Wasting my life away and trying to do everything I could to the point where it put my health at risk- that wasn't enough. I shouldâve just dropped everything and followed everyone else instead of trying to find an alternative, because there was no alternative, right? Is that what you're trying to say?â
For once, Dick was speechless and had nothing to say, and his silence only made you hurt more. It's like you were waiting for what felt like the inevitable.
âWhat else am I supposed to do, huh? What else haven't I done? Is nothing else good enough for you? Is that really the only way I could've been with you? To see you, to actually talk with you and all the others? To be part of the family? Is that what it would've taken?â You're nearly gasping for air at this rate, with every word you say only carving deeper into your heart, and getting harder to say as you struggle to voice them aloud. Nearly choking on both your words and tears, and yet you push on.
âDid I really have to give up on my passion- my dreams to have a better chance to be something to you?â
âY/n, that's not what I mean. Doing it wouldn't have gotten in the way-â
âYou know that's bullshit! You act like the line of work you do doesn't take over your life! Like you don't think about it everyday- like you aren't constantly in danger!â At this point you're shouting and you barely even realize it, tears flowing freely now as they burn into your cheeks and crash down on the pavement below, âIs it so bad that I don't want that? That I don't want to put my life at risk? That I don't want to live your life?!â
âMaybe you enjoy that. Maybe you like that chaos and constantly putting your life on the line- but some people don't! Maybe you're made for that kind of life, but I'm not! I want to live my own life without having to be even more worried about my own well-being and safety!â
âY/n, please- calm down! I don't want to fight, I-â Dick took a quick breath, his own heart squeezing as he tries to remain stable, to remain calm. Even if it felt like he was watching his whole world crumble before him, each tear you shed stabbing into him, and every word that spilled out just twisted the knives as they dug deeper into his chest and body. âI understand what you mean, but you have to realize-â
âRealize what? That everything I did was for nothing?â Thinking it was one thing, but saying it out loud was another. The words weighed heavy on your tongue, and the more you tried to say them the more choked up you became. âThat all of my effort was in vain, and I shouldâve given up while I was ahead? Because that's the impression I'm getting right now-â
âThat's not what I meant, Y/n. I⊠I didn't mean it like that.â
âBut how else could you have possibly meant it? How else am I supposed to interpret that?â You laughed again, but it was just as sad and pathetic as the last, âYou can't expect me to just know these things, Grayson, especially considering everything and just-â You felt like you were going to tear your hair out, like you were going to collapse and truly break. Yet you managed to stand, and speak again no matter how weak your voice is.
âYou were never there for me, none of you were.â Your hands are shaking and your face burns, voice cracking in every way possible, and you hate this feeling. Yet above all else, you hate how he made you feel like this, âI could show up at the manor, bloodied and bruised, and no one- no one would notice or bat an eye. I could be wearing a cast and have crutches, and yet not a single person besides Alfred would see it or comment on it. I could be at the hospital and no one would show up, not one of you-â
âWait⊠what-?â Dick tried to speak, but you wouldnât let him, you couldnât.
âYou were never there when I needed you. You never checked up on me, you barely even noticed me-â again, you suck in another breath, barely able to take it in, âdo you know what Iâve had to deal with on my own? How much it cost me? How much it hurt me-?â
âWait, wait- hold on! Youâve been hurt?â Dick managed to cut you off, âI⊠I never heard about this.â
âOf course you haven't!â You couldn't help but laugh, more tears spilling and leaving scars on your face with how badly they burned into your skin, âYou hardly even noticed, how can you expect to hear about it?â
âYou didn't tell me- you didn't tell anyone! How- how am I supposed to know about these things when you won't even tell anyone? When you won't tell me?â Dick can feel himself begin to tear up, but he keeps it all down. He was frustrated, and even if it wasn't directed towards you, he couldn't keep his big mouth shut. Even if by the looks of things - you couldn't either, even if that was for a different reason.
Maybe you both were one in the same, but different in some ways. Dick would feel stupid if he noticed it, but of course he couldn't â not at the moment. Not with how things are going.
If only he noticed that sooner. If only he had done a lot of things sooner â then both of you wouldn't be in this position. You wouldn't be in this position.
Yet, he couldn't help himself. Both of you couldn't, in a way.
âI can't read your mind, Y/n! I'm not even at the manor half the time- how am I supposed to notice? You can't just expect me to suddenly know-â
âBut you visit enough for the others? For any one of them you'd come rushing over, especially if it was for Damian-â
âAt least he tells me when he gets hurt!â
âAre we talking about the same kid right now? God, and here I thought that he was your favorite.â
ââFavoriteâ?â Dick chuckled out humorlessly, feeling something in him break at your words. âI don't have any favorites-â
âThat is such bullshit, Grayson, and you fucking know that.â You couldn't help but sneer, everything you tried to keep inside finally rearing its ugly head as the lid you tried to put on your emotions flew off, leaving you feeling nothing but unapologetic rage. âYou play favorites all the time, but I wouldn't know that, would I? I'm probably your least-â
âDon't say that. You're not. You never were.â
âRight! Yeah, you're right. After all, I'm not even on the list, am I? How can I be the least when you barely even acknowledge me-?â
âI didn't-â Dick just cuts himself off, sighing before he continues, not being able to stop the scoff that slips past, âI didn't mean it like that. You're important to me, Y/n, how many times do I have to say that? It's like you're trying to put words in my mouth at this rate.â
âWell, excuse me for not believing you considering that, oh, I don't know, I've been ignored by you for years? That-â
ââIgnoredâ? I havenât been ignoring you, no one has-â
âReally? Are you really trying to say that now-?â
âI understand that you're frustrated, okay? That you have all the reason to be mad- but no one has ignored you. I haven't ignored you-â
âBULLSHIT! That is bull-SHIT!â You scream before you even notice the words had left your mouth in the first place, âYou would have said that before it that was the case! And even then- how the hell do you explain this entire shit show? How do you even dare to try and explain where the fuck ANY of you have been?! Because people can only be so ignorant and stupid until others begin to think it's intentional and you're doing it on god-damn purpose-!â Broken, harsh chuckles escape you - slipping in between your piercing words, ones so rough and dry that it scratches your throat just to let them out. The disbelief was heavy in each and every one of them, utterly devoid of any humor, and yet they were so unbelievably empty simultaneously.
You could feel your heart breaking even more, but you weren't the only one. Not that it mattered, as with each piece that was chipped off, you could only register the little sounds of you coming apart. Everything else was muffled, and almost completely blocked out. With your only focus being on him, on them.
âJust because something looks a certain way, doesn't mean that it's really like that. I told you, it isn't that easy. Like I said before- I haven't been avoiding you, let alone ignoring you! I wasn't trying to do anything like that-â
âIt doesn't matter what you tried! What you're trying to do! Don't you see? What matters is what it felt like to me-â
âBut you wonât let me change that! You won't let me try and change things- itâs like you want it to remain the same-!â
âYOU DON'T GET TO SAY WHAT I WANT! NOT AFTER THIS- NOT AFTER EVERYTHING! You donât get to say shit like that- you don't know me! You don't know what I've been through-! So stop talking like you understand me!â
âBut you won't let me in! You won't give me the chance to understand! How can I expect to know anything when you're giving me nothing to work with?!â
âHow about you take a fucking hint, Grayson. Can't you read the room?! You're a cop for crying out loud! And was trained by the best detective the world has to offer- so it's not my fault you're acting like you're stupid!â
âYou're not another case, Y/n! You're family, youâre my sibling! Not something that needs to be solved! Is it really so hard to just tell me anything and not push me away when I'm right here?!â
Your words catch in your throat momentarily, but you try to push past that and force something out, not caring if it was made of broken glass or venom. Yet, just as you go to speak, and the first letter escapes your lips â Dick finally breaks too.
âSHUT UP! Just Shut. Up. And ACTUALLY listen to me for one second! Please! For the love of-â Dick can't help but scoff, running a hand down his face, and covering his mouth with it. Looking away as he does so, brows furrowing.Â
He wants to say something, think of anything that he wants you to hear and understand clearly - but nothing comes to mind. Nothing you'd truly hear him out on, anyway. Nothing he's already mentioned to you. Nothing that would make this better. Even as he goes to try and say something, all that comes out is a mess of half finished words that he can't make comprehensible, especially not in a way that'll have you listen to him where you won't try to bite at him again.
So, he falls silent. You both do.
Your eyes widening at the sudden shout, before your gaze hardens and you glare at Dick through your tears and agony. His silence makes you angrier, but his loud response does shut you up momentarily.
âWellâ fine, if you want me to be quiet so badly, then I'm leaving.â You manage to say after a moment, voice wavering and becoming weaker â now spent thanks to how you've been using it up until this point.
Still, your words immediately snap Dick out of whatever trance he was in, and cause his head to snap back in your direction, with his eyes locking onto you once again â though they widen a little before he tries to calm down, and take in one last breath. He scrambles to say anything, especially as he sees you turn to leave, and see your words through.
âW-wait, hold on, I-â he presses his lips into a thin line, thinking briefly before continuing, âCan I at least walk you home? It isn't safe-â
You pause in your movements, âNo. Just-â you don't look back, you can't bring yourself to, but you do just barely glance over your shoulder â though not enough to actually see him again. Dick can't see your eyes anymore, but he can still see the tears streaming down your face. âJust leave me alone. All of you.â
Dick tries to reach out, to stop you one last time â but he hesitates, and just lets his hand fall back to his side. Instead, opting to watch you leave while he stands there, left hurt and alone. His eyes eventually find and land on the coffee you had left behind on the bench, and he finds himself staring at that once you're out of sight.
He has to hold back from running after you, and following - if only to just make sure that you'd reach your apartment in one piece - but he manages. It's the least he could do, after all, and besides, he doubts he'd be able to do that without making you hate him even more. He's gathered as much from all of this, and really - from the looks of things, he had a lot more to consider than he had originally thought. All of them did.
⊠It's only as you walk away and the distance between you and Dick grows bigger, with both of your words beginning to settle - that you both notice the clouds once light cries have turned into ugly sobs, with each tear being shed heavier than the last, thunder roaring and echoing in the distance, lightning striking the earth with a deafening clap. It was only then that both of you even noticed that the light drizzle from before had turned into pouring rain, and that there was more than just the two of you in the world. Something that felt heavier than it shouldâve, but felt appropriate at the same time.
Regardless, you continue to walk away, and once again, never look back as you commit to your decision no matter what may happen afterwards, or the consequences that may follow. Just like that one day back in the manor, you move on and go on with your choice, just knowing what you want in that moment and seeing no reason to deny yourself â especially when you want the same thing you wanted that night, when you just want to get away. You donât know what happened tonight, but all you knew is that you didnât want to be a part of it anymore, so you just left, and maybe you wouldâve felt a little grateful that Dick let you go if you had noticed to begin with â since your mind was more focused on just putting as much distance between you and him as possible.
Your phone vibrates in your pocket, and itâs only then that you remember that you still had it on you â not that you knew why youâd leave it anywhere or forget it, but itâs something you noticed nonetheless. You fish it out of your pocket as you walk, and wipe some of your tears away with the back of your hand, sniffling lightly as you check the notification. Jessica had left you a voicemail â several, actually. You couldnât imagine why, but you didnât try very hard to think of a reason, and instead just opened your phone to listen to it.
[âHey, hunâ, itâs been a while, you okay? If you donât call in the next twelve hours or so then Iâm calling the police- even if most of them are useless as hell, I know more of them will look, since they know who you are and all that. But I swear if that asshole did anything to you then heâs got another thing coming, and I know you donât like to fight, but please, for the love of god, just sucker punch that creep in the face if you have to. He looks like he could use one, and an extra hard one at that.â She takes a moment to sigh, clearly frustrated - which her tone made very clear - but you could sense a little worry, âBut, seriously. Just get back to me when you can, and you better be safe, alright? Listen to my other voice message if you havenât already, talk to you soon, bye.â]
Just hearing Jessicaâs voice made you feel a bit better, and some of what she said got a little laugh out of you. She always tried to look after you, and with what just happened â you couldnât be more grateful for it.
So, you did as told, and listened to the other voice message she had left you, curious as to what she had wanted you to know about.
[âHey, itâs Jess, darlinâ. I hope youâre not still with that guy, but if you are then just remember what I told you, okay? Well, anyway, Cece came by, and is waiting for you in the diner, and barely awake at that. So just come by and pick them up, since- well, Iâd send âem home on their own but honestly I doubt theyâd be able to make it there themselves. Iâm a little surprised they were even able to reach this place- but you get the jist. Come by, but if youâre still with that guy? I can wait, just hurry up because a girlâs gotta get her beauty sleep. See you, bye.â]
⊠Oh, well, guess you had to make a stop on your way home, then. You wanted nothing more than to curl up in your bed and just sleep, but itâs not like the walk to the diner was long anyway, and besides, it was on the way back to your apartment, so you couldnât really complain.
With that, you made a turn and headed towards the diner. Still processing and taking in everything as you do so â but when you feel more tears begin to well up, you push it to the side, and tell yourself that youâll handle it later. No matter how short or long that interaction was, it drained you, and you desperately needed rest. Maybe it wasnât the most healthy decision to make, but you couldnât handle doing anything else right now, so itâd have to wait. Besides, with how tonight went, you definitely didnât want to think about Dick and the others at the moment â they didnât deserve it, anyway.
Thankfully, you reached the diner in no time, and itâs only when Jessica stops you at the door do you even realize that your soaked⊠which makes sense but you feel a little embarrassed when she points it out nonetheless, and says how she loves you but doesnât want to have to clean the floor again when her shift has been over for about a half hour. Cece was sitting at the counter, and perks up when you enter, giving a sleepy smile before standing up and making their way over to you. Both of you thank Jessica as you take your leave â but not before you wish her a good night and say your usual goodbyes, even if she does make a point about how you and her will talk later. Hell, she even sneaks in how you almost looked like her after her breakup with Michael which⊠ouch, you can only imagine how awful you really look if that was the case â but it also only fully confirmed that you were talking to her about what happened no matter what.
Still, you were grateful that she left it at that, and didnât pry anymore as she finally let you and Cece go home. The walk to the apartment â or, rather, the short run there â since you and Cece ended up sharing their jacket as cover from the rain, and they had a funny idea as you both held it over your heads, and⊠well, one thing led to another â and it's safe to say it turned out to be rather eventful. Ending with you and Cece laughing in front of your apartment building once you reached it, huddled in front of the small entrance â Cece ending up being partially soaked despite their best efforts, and of course, youâre beyond drenched.
Once you reach your shared home, Cece, despite barely being awake, basically shoves you into the shower once you're both a little more settled, and you just do as told â more than a little tired yourself in numerous ways, and definitely not in the mood to argue. When youâre clean and in a new set of clothes, you and Cece talk a little. They try to ask why you had been out, but you just say you ran into someone â though it wasnât anyone important, and that it wasnât something to worry about â with them just accepting that answer, much to your relief.
The rest of the evening becomes a bit of a blur after that, with you and Cece just talking some more here and there, sharing a few laughs that really helped brighten your mood and made you forget all about what had happened. The pain becomes dull, and that bright fire in your chest finally dies out - leaving behind a warmth that wasnât burning or suffocating, but instead comforting and painless. One you welcomed graciously and with open arms as you felt yourself relax more and more.
Eventually, Cece turned in for the night, and as they headed back into their room, you did one last check of the apartment â making sure all the windows were not only locked, but that the curtains were closed. Going as far as to check the front door a few times just to make sure that it was really locked. Even if none of what you did would really stop any of them from getting in - it put your mind at ease a little, and really, thatâs all you could hope for.
With that, you finally settled into bed, and fell asleep faster than you had in years.
For once, you hoped youâd never wake up as your worries and fears felt so far away, and reality was out of reach â even if it laid just beyond your closed eyelids. As much as you hoped for a better morning, more than anything, you hoped that youâd just sleep the week away if you could help it. God knows you needed the rest, or at least it felt like you did.
â----------
Dick had no such luxury.
The night became a blur after you had left, and he barely remembers even meeting up with the rest of the family once everything was said and done. He couldnât tell how long he had been standing in that park all by himself, thinking of everything you had told him and looking at the little pieces of your existence that still remained behind.
All he knows is one thing led to another, and now heâs here â sitting on top of a roof with everyone else both simultaneously chastising him and trying to discuss what they should do now. Though Dick couldnât bring himself to pay attention, since the events that had unfolded moments prior replayed in his mind like a broken record, torturing him slowly as his brain reminded him of all of the mistakes heâs made tonight. He canât understand why he said half of what he did, especially because he didnât mean it. He didnât mean to blow up like he did â especially in front of you, and when you were clearly hurting and frustrated on top of that. The only thing Dick wanted to do in that moment was stop both of you from arguing, and it seems that his mouth ran off to do just that before he could think of a better way to do it. Now leaving him like this, and things worse off than they were before.
Point is, Dick felt like shit, and he knew he deserved it. Though the rest of the family definitely werenât helping him out in that regard.
âHow the hell did you even fuck this up, Dick?â Jason asks, his tone so heated it sounds like it couldâve come from the depths of hell itself â and all just to burn his older brother.
âI knew I shouldâve gone instead, this wouldâve never happened-â Tim canât help but mumble to himself, arms crossed as he sighs, frustrated â but not completely at Dick. If there was a moment for him to really believe he shouldâve kept your address and apartment number to himself, it was definitely now.
âWait- so⊠what do we do now?â Stephanie asks, concerned over what happened, and that Dick hasnât really said anything about it to them â even if all of them can tell it went poorly.
Damian just sighs, his arms crossed as well as he looks at Dick before looking to the others, âTake matters into our own hands, obviously.â
âWhile I agree that something should be done, is it really a good idea to act now?â Barbara pitches in, not entirely sure of what Damian was talking about, but not liking the implications of it all the same. Something about it just didnât feel right to her, nor did the look he gave her.
âOf course. Now that theyâre presumably heading to their apartment, we can just-â before Damian can finish what he was going to say, Cassandra covers his mouth, cutting him off swiftly which annoys the little Robin enough to shove her hand away and give her a scrutinizing look, âwhat?â
Cassandra just shakes her head, and instead begins to sign something, basically saying how they donât know if you're even at your apartment, and by the time they find out where you actually are, itâll probably be morning. Even mentioning how since you know that they know where you live, you probably wouldnât even be there anymore. Which just causes Damian to huff in response. She had a point, and he knew it, but he wasnât going to admit it out loud.
Still, despite that Jason spoke up again, âActually, I agree with the little twerp. Nowâs a good a time as any to get them home.â
â... You can't be serious, right?â Barbara asks, now getting a little concerned over what Jason meant as well, and the half-shrug he gave did little to reassure her or calm her nerves that were slowly beginning to rise.
âWhy not? Theyâre still out there doing god knows what- who knows where in the dead of night,â he points out, giving Barbara a little glance, âit anything, I just see more of a reason to get them before anything else happens.â
âJason, do you even hear yourself right now.â
âWhat? Is it a crime to be worried for my god damn family now?â
âJason.â Bruceâs voice pierces through the air, cutting through the tension before anyone else can speak up or give their two cents. Almost as if just his voice alone was enough of a barrier between those who wanted to get you home, those that didnât, and the few who didnât know where they stood at the moment.Â
Regardless, itâs enough for Jason to stand down, if only temporarily as Bruce turns to Dick â whoâs still out of it, and staring at the ground just before his feet.
âDick,â Bruce calls out, which only gets him a subtle glance, with Dick not even bothering to pick up his head â or maybe he just couldnât, no one could tell except for the one person among them who was much too fluent in body language. âWhat do you think?â He asks simply, narrowing his eyes a little when his eldest son grows quieter somehow.
Dick fidgets with the coffee cup in his hands, its warmth long gone, and yet he still runs a finger or two along the side as if it was still there. He doesnât know why he grabbed it, but now he almost couldnât find it in himself to let it go. It was yours, after all, if only for a brief moment â and even if all it did was serve as a reminder of his faults, it reminded him of you, and right now? Thatâs all he could ask for. Dick canât explain it, but itâs like by holding the cup and having it with him, he had a small part of you with him. Since, sure, while you had left it during your⊠âdisputeâ with him, it had come from a place you liked and he could only assume that it was just how you liked your coffee. It was silly, but holding it made him feel close to you, and thatâs all he wanted at the moment. To be close.
⊠It takes him a beat or two before he responds, and even then he seems unsure of himself â but remembering what had transpired minutes ago is enough to set his mind straight.
âI think⊠we should give them some time, and⊠a bit of space too for a while.â Dick manages to say hesitantly, tapping the cup lightly as he still holds onto it.
That seemed to quiet everyone down for a moment, until Stephanie eventually asks the question on everyoneâs mind.
âJust how badly did things go, Dick?â
He couldnât answer that, he didnât want to, so he remained silent. However, Cassandra could tell, and found herself just as divided as she felt the moment she first saw him. She didnât know what she wanted to do more â throw Dick off the roof, or go looking for you herself. Maybe sheâd try to do both if Bruce wasnât right there.Â
âSo, what? Do they hate us now or something?â Jason says sarcastically, but with how Dick tenses a little his tone turns harsher, â... You canât be serious.â
âDick- please tell me you didnât screw things up that badly. Please tell me that you didnât make things worse!â Tim almost begs, desperate to be wrong and hoping that his eldest brother hadnât made things worse â that there was still a small chance.
Sure, they didnât expect things to go great, but none of them really believed that they would go so horribly!
âLook, just-â Dick takes a short breath, looking at the cup in his hands in quiet defeat before glancing away, âI think we should give them some time to themself is all.â
Jason can only scoff as he crosses his arms, âI knew I shouldâve gone instead, they wouldâve been home right now.â
âI believe me and father wouldâve handled the situation much better,â Damian states, as if it would lead to the only positive outcome should he and Bruce had gone instead.
âI knew I shouldâve kept my mouth shut and just gone over by myself- stupid! Stupid! Stupid!â Tim curses under his breath, looking away as he continues to mumble to himself â expression growing increasingly darker and the air around him shifting into⊠something indescribable.
Cassandra seemed just about ready to rip something apart, and Stephanie was getting nervous from how the others seemed to be reacting, only able to stutter out a small, âG- guys? Maybe we shouldnât be talking about this right now-â
âI agreeâŠâ Barbara chips in, her own concerns only growing as she looks at the family, but tries to help Stephanie out nonetheless, âWhatâs done is done, and we should be trying to figure out what to do from here on out.â
Damian scoffs, âRight, like that will be easy with brother being silent about everything.â Dick could only look away in response, taking a small sip of the coffee in his hands, finding a little bit of comfort in its taste. It was cold, and wasnât how he usually got his done â but itâs how you liked it, and that was enough from him to like it too.
A small argument seemed to spawn from that alone, with some now going back and forth yet again on what to do â Cassandra, Jason, and Damian pretty adamant about wanting to bring you home, with Barbara, Stephanie, and Dick more keen on waiting and giving you space â even if Dick was definitely more quiet about his stance, still thinking about⊠whatever was on his mind. Tim didnât seem to engage much in the arguing either, and instead seemed to be dealing with his own thing as he kept mumbling to himself, leaving Bruce to be stuck listening to all of the nonsense until he finally got fed up with it.
âQuiet down, all of you.â He states firmly, voice cold and harsh as he shuts everyone up without even moving an inch. His eyes seemed to judge all of them as he looked at everything before sighing, and making the decision for everyone.
âWeâll give them time, and stand down for now.â He says, his tone alone indicating that there would be no arguing on this. What he said was final, and everyone would be smart to follow along with it, no matter where they stood. Still, he turned to look down at the city, and caught the faintest glimpse of your apartment building in the not-so-far distance. âbut if anything happens, then weâll act accordingly.â
#yandere batfam#platonic yandere batfam#gn reader#yandere dc#platonic yandere#yandere x gn reader#yandere batfam x reader#yandere dc x reader#yandere dick grayson#yandere dick grayson x gn reader#it's finally here in full!#total wc is around 37.5k words#so the 1st part is around 16.5K~ words#and this part is around 20K-21k~ words respectfully#ngl i lost a bit more of my sanity writing this chapter#i was so naive when i called chapter 2 my longest post...#not series
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slides u twenty dollars can we consider jealous johnny if he sees reader is only that avoidant with him and no one else⊠i donât want to rush ahead in case you have something else planned but like, johnny hearing that there are rumors one of the baronâs newest maids is pregnant and the timing just lines up a little too well đ”âđ«đ”âđ«
-noona bc tumblr refuses to let me send asks from sideblogs
Hiiiiiiiii Noona đ
Thank you for the twenty, I'm gonna spend in on blind boxes, it's not an addiction, I can stop anytime I want. Spoilers concerning reader's pregnancy under the read more:
Gonna answer only the first part of this and save the second half because I don't wanna give away too much just yet. I will say that at the point this piece of the story takes place, our dear reader is indeed aware she's pregnant and has informed Konig, who insists on her having someone with her when she goes out into town. Anything could happen, and he fears the idea of her falling and harming herself or the baby, or having to do so much heavy lifting. They're just on friendly-ish terms though for now, as this isn't by the time reader has started showing, so no rumors have started flying yet. Also, curious how one section of this will be interpreted. Johnny exhaled as he stepped out of the shop, breath a thick fog in front of him as the winter chill set to work stinging his cheeks. Snow had fallen last night and stayed, keeping the roads slick. The thick woolen cap he wore snug around his head crushed down his signature hairstyle, but he'd rather have flat hair than a raw scalp. He rubbed his gloved hands along his wrists to fend off the shivers, the door behind him shutting with a clatter and the ring of bells as he moved along the walkway towards his next stop a few streets over. Four stores in, and he had yet to find what he was looking for. He wasn't entirely sure what that was, mind you, only that whatever it was remained elusive. It let him move about town all the same to get out of his house which had felt odd these past few weeks. Too loud, too quiet, achingly lonely yet also too many people nearby setting his nerves on edge. Impossible to get anything done, his irritation grew erratic like his thoughts. All he wanted was a moment of peace, a chance for his ever-restless thoughts to let him breathe lest he take it out on his staff.
Try as he might to deny it to himself, he knew why this happened. She wasn't there anymore. Packed up and left in the wee hours of the morn, when the fog was thick and the duchy silent as a graveyard. Didn't bother to inform him, merely the head maid whom had given him a look that said he was a fool. Shortly thereafter, word had gotten back to him that she had taken up a position in the Baron's home. He'd had to take a swift walk to handle that knotted up wad of string wrapped tightly in his gut.
If he were an honest man, he would say she hadn't truly been there even longer. It made his throat close up, the way she seemingly wasted away in his halls, sunken in on herself like a sunflower wilting in the frost. Like a cold snap at the start of winter, suddenly she had no time for him. Always quick to pull away from him, to find some task to do that kept her preoccupied from the start of the day until well past it. Hesitation whenever he asked her what was wrong, a momentary pause before she would tell him nothing was the matter, addressing him as 'my lord', as though the name she had permission to use would not escape her mouth.
Eyes always downcast, fixed on the floorboards or over his shoulder when she would bring herself to pretend to look him in the eye. Truth be told, he preferred it in some ways, the relief of not having that direct connection. At least then he didn't feel the weight of his inadequacy of caring for her, like a verdict cast down upon him. This way he could pretend that he was the man he was supposed to be. He stopped attempting to touch her in any way when he caught how she tensed, braced herself for contact. The kissing followed shortly thereafter, her strained smiles and broken laughter making him feel worse, like he never should have even tried. Anything further wasn't even on the table, and the thought of even broaching the subject made his insides churn. And so, he stopped. Filled his time with the other maids, though that never lasted long either. They weren't right; laughter too loud or high pitched, smile too far to one side, hair the wrong thickness between his fingers. It left him feeling further unease, as though he kept going down the wrong hallways in a maze that he had no chance of escaping. Like a picture set at the wrong angle, or shoes that are a size too small. It pinches him, makes something inside him pace like a beast in a cage, keeps him up at night. He knows what felt right, what kept him sated and content in his days. Eyes that gazed at him like he was her salvation, her sun, always turning towards him with a smile that made his own lips turn up. Soft hands even after hard work, rubbing over the calluses of his palms and stroking over any scars, pressing gentle kisses to them. Laughs and squeals that made his heart race like a schoolboy, cheeks flooded red with the desire to keep her that way, keep all of her attention on him. Even now as he turns the corner, he feels a small smile coming up from those memories, only to freeze awkwardly on his face.
Across the street there she walked, a small box wrapped in her free palm. He hadn't anticipated her being out, assuming she had remained indoors lest the chill finally do her in. He felt his breath leave his lungs at the sight while his blood raced at a fever pitch, heart beginning to hammer. She looked beautiful, the way she had before whatever had occurred at the duchy. Cheeks fuller than he had seen since this past fall, eyes bright and a small smile on her face, she looked radiant to him. Some piece of him, deep in his soul perhaps, relaxed in relief at the sight of her hale and hearty. Another part of him, a part of who he is as a man, feels the stirrings of bitterness at the fact she seems to flourish again once out of his reach. But he couldn't help the way he wanted to grit his teeth and snarl at who stood at her side. Baron Konig, the man who had poached her from him. Still draped in his silly shroud, he was covered head to toe, a thick peacoat covering him and sturdy boots making contact with the ground, clicks following. Even with the coat in the way, Johnny's eyes narrowed at the way her hand was tucked into the crook of his arm. Why does that bastard have the right to touch her? He must have said something under that hood, for she looked up at the Baron and let out a chuckle, breath pluming out for a moment before she responded with something that he nodded in return to. In his free arm he held several packages, looking for all the world as though they weighed nothing. To a man of that size, they probably didn't.
Johnny felt the acidic tendrils of jealousy lance through him, searing him from the inside out while he fought the need to bare his teeth and tear into the man. He couldn't help it, truly he couldn't. That should have been him with her, guiding her down the street while she looks up at him and laughs at whatever he tells her. Actually no, he thought, she shouldn't be out here at all. She should have been back in the duchy with him, playfully seated on his desk, fire roaring and keeping them both toasty while he pretended to work. He would reach out and cup her face, stroking the apple of her cheek, while she would lean in and reward him with a kiss for his hard work that day. A game they had played before, the two of them wrapped up against the bitter outside world, a secret shared between their hearts.
Why does she not look at him that way? What did he do to harm her? What must he do to have her return to him? Just look at him again, please. Even just a passing glance, something to show that she still recalls who he is, who he can be to her.
Words of adoration and touches that feel like absolution dissipate from his eyes, Johnny swallowing a small noise behind his teeth when he sees how she leans into the Baron so she can stretch slightly higher and say something in his ear. Never before has Johnny wished to be lesser in society so as to step forward and take her hand and pull her home, show everyone who she is meant for. Unable to bear the sight any longer he hunches his head into the collar of his coat and swiftly turns around. His attempts at finding peace have only led him to further turmoil.
As he heads back to his carriage, his thoughts circle over and over, ruminating and digging furrows into his sanity.
He doesn't deserve this, none of this. Not with a woman like that, not with her. When he returns to the house, he has letters to write.
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Cola- John Price NSFW
Based on a request: Maâam, hello & how are you? I hope Iâm not bombarding you with a lot of requests. I was listening to Older by Isabel LaRosa and I have imagination of Fem!Reader x Price (PeePaw) Reader (early twenties), fresh graduate and a newbie in TF141 handling weapons stocks (or whatever you call it, lol). Met Price for the first time and her daddy issues vibrating. Both taken a liking of each other (im sucker for love at first sight)âŠ.. I leave the rest up to your imagination and creativity âșïž. Please ignore this request if goes against your FAQ. Thank you đ«¶đŒ ---- F!Reader, smut, 18+, MDNI, oral!sex, age!gap ----
A/N: short...I know and also a bit shit...
When you met him, it was like something clicked. The smiles you both flashed towards each other were something rather sweet. Your heart flutters, cheeks reddened and you became nervous. Your mind scrambles, trying to find an excuse to approach him and for him, it was the same. His mouth dries, eyes not being able to look away from you. What is it about you that makes him feel like a teen once more? Would you two have the chance to even talk?
You are new to base and the team your mentor, Laswell, listed you in. You became an armourer for the team and being your first day, you needed to have a meeting with the captain of the team. Fuck, I hope it's him, you think. Your eyes are on his body. Why must you be into men much older than you? It's a curse but a blessing.Â
Once in his office, he sighs and nods you to sit down. "You must be Y/N?" He sits down and lights up his cigar as he sizes you up. A smirk plays on his lips. Fuck, I can't think of her this way, he thinks.Â
....
The meeting is long, a rundown of what the team does, the values it holds and what you'll be doing later in the day. He smiles but tries to fight it off. He asks you to talk about yourself, a mediocre excuse to listen to your voice for longer. It's like he needs to know you for more than just being in the same team. As John leans back into his seat, he lets the smoke fill the room. Between laughter and comments, he and you can feel the attraction arise.Â
He smiles, and leans in, "You said men your age don't treat you write?" Oh what a comment this could lead to. As you explain why, he smirks. Maybe a man like himself can fix the little issues you have. John begins to take notes about you, the way you talk and how you smile at fond memories that you mention casually.Â
....
With days, he calls you back to his office, this happens over and over. From light conversations to the ones that make you tear up that lead to him playing the role of the man you truly need. "C'mere doll," he says and pats his leg. With teary eyes you sit on his lap and nuzzle your face on his neck, his strong arms wrapping around you. One of his hands cups your face and wipes your tears away.Â
Is it wrong he wants this so much more when you cry and depend on him? Can you be his little secret? You'll understand when he asks that your sweet lips lay on his, right? or how by now, his breath is close to your lips.Â
"Kiss me, yeah?" he asks with a whisper.Â
You lean in, letting him take control of this moment now. Your body wrapped around his and now he cups your face, needing you closer than before.Â
Fuck does he need your mouth wrapped around something else. He shakes his head and pulls away, "On your knees, doll," he commands and you obey so perfectly.Â
He unzips his jeans and pulls your hand onto his cock, your lovely hands playing with his balls. Slowly, he pulls his cock out and he groans as you slowly lick his tip, your pretty eyes on him. "Oh fuck..." he whispers and pushes your head in. His hand gripping your hair, guiding you to his own need. You gag, eyes teary as you suck him off. Your sweet lips make him more aggressive, he curses you and his grip tightens on your neck when he feels his cock bulge inside of you.Â
His balls tighten, his head thrown back and then he bucks his hips. "Fuck....oh fuck you're so good," he groans and just as drool falls from your mouth, he cums in your pretty throat. "Oh the things you make me do, Y/N. I promise next time, I'll show you why men like me are so good for pretty things like you." His lips meet your forehead before they kiss your swollen lips.Â
A/N: This was rushed..sorry pookie
Tags:
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Din Djarin Imagine #2
Warnings: None, just fluff.
Word Count: 683
Secretly in love with you Din, who at first didn't understand the invisible and magnetic pull he felt towards you as he spent more time in your company. Who, when he first employed you as a mechanic on the Razor Crest, didn't expect you to take on the role of joint caretaker for Grogu, but is so glad you did. Who's heart radiates warmth and contentment as he observes the close bond and maternal love you have towards his foundling.
Secretly in love with you Din, who finds himself treasuring the quiet moments the three of you share as you travel through hyperspace, and nervously anticipating (in a good way), the time spent in just each others' company while the baby is asleep. Who spent his life training to be a fearless warrior capable of handling any situation, only to discover that no amount of instruction could have prepared him for you, and how you make him feel; nervous yet bold, calm yet anxious, grounded yet free falling into oblivion.
Secretly in love with you Din, who goes out of his way to make sure you are happy being here with him and Grogu, Wether it be indulging your silly (and adorable) antics with his mischievous son - he often wonders who is the bigger kid on times - or taking time out between bounties at your insistence because, as you stressed to him, "you need to unwind mentally as well as physically". Who melts at your concern for his well being, not being used to someone else caring for him as you do and if truth be told, your gentle and attentive nature towards him makes him fall for you deeper and deeper every day.
Secretly in love with you Din, who could watch you for hours, committing to memory the way your brows draw together and how the tip of your tongue pokes out between your lips when concentrating on a particularity tricky job, how your sweet laughter echoes through the bleak and dreary ship, giving it a life all of it's own and his personal favourite; the way your eyes always seem to find his behind his visor, as if there was no Beskar barrier between you.
Secretly in love with you Din, who rages inwardly as he holds you through the aftermath of yet another night terror. Who's heart shatters every time you sob into his chest (he'd began removing his chest plate in the nights lately, so you can feel the warmth and comfort of his embrace when you need it the most), fingers clutching at the material of his clothing like it's your lifeline. Who whispers soft assurances into your ear about how he will never let anyone hurt you again and silently promises himself that, no matter how long it takes, one day he will find those bastards responsible for your suffering and they will pay dearly.
Secretly in love with you Din, who hopes that he's not imagining the shift that seems to be happening between you both lately. Who prays to the maker that he's not just seeing what he wants to see when you shuffle closer to his side as you walk, when your hand lingers longer than is necessary on his arm, and when your eyes appear to want to convey to him something you seem uncomfortable with saying out loud. Who wants nothing more in those moments than to be able to sweep you into his arms and confess everything he's been holding onto for so long, but is afraid that if he's wrong about this, he'll potentially destroy the beautiful friendship that has blossomed between you both and the relationship you have with Grogu.
Secretly in love with you Din, who has never felt so much love and devotion to another woman in all his years. Who feels whole and at home when he's with you and will do whatever it takes to keep you. Who will never give you any reason to leave... even if it means having to hide his true feelings from you for the rest of his life.
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal fandom#pedro pascal characters#din x reader#mando x you#din djarin fanfiction#the mandalorian fanfiction#pedro pascal cinematic universe#star wars#star wars fanfiction#din djarin fluff#din djarin x female reader
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Heyyy!! Can u do like a bittersweet one abt Mingyu forgetting abt ur date cuz he went out with the other members
(NOT A) DATE NIGHT â kim mingyu x reader
summary: sometimes it was hard dating an idol because of their busy schedules. after missing a date and being mia, mingyu tries to make it up to you.
note: nooo this is such a sad request!! however, I couldn't handle leaving it on a sad note so it ends really happy!
join my taglist!
It was hard scheduling dates with Mingyu. Between his hectic schedule and your work schedule that never seemed to line up with his, it was difficult going out with each other.
Of course, that didn't deter either of you from at least trying. You've been together for about three years now, and some of these dates consisted of having to Facetime him when you just woke up while he was just going to sleep.
But this was the first time since you guys got together that he hasn't shown up or even texted he was going to be late for your date. So there you stood, dressed up, sat on the couch, feeling sad for yourself.
You tried calling Mingyu a couple of times, texting him to see if he was on his way, but there was no answer. With no way to get to him, you dialed the number of the next best person to reach out to.
"Wonwoo, is dance practice going on?"
"Dance practice ended about an hour ago," he told you.
You pursed your lips and automatically assumed that he forgot, since if you were to think about it any longer you were going to spiral and think of a worse reason, which is not what you wanted to do.
Sighing, you said, "Okay, thanks anyways," and was about to hang up.
"What's wrong?" Wonwoo asked.
"It's just, Mingyu and I were supposed to go on a date but he never ended up coming home, so..." You trailed off, the insinuation clear.
From the other side, you heard Wonwoo curse, presumably at Mingyu even if he wasn't there.
"He must've gone with the others to go to eat. They were talking about it during practice. I'll call one of the members right nowâ"
"No, it's alright. I'll just talk to him later,"
"You sure? Cheol's always got his phone on so I can probably call him so he can get Mingyuâ"
"It's alright," you repeated.
Wonwoo sighed from the other line, and you could tell he wanted to say something, but he stopped himself and instead said, "Let me know how it goes,"
You didn't bother with a response and just hung up. And with a heavy heart, you decided to go to your bedroom and get ready for bed.
Trying to sleep with the thought that your boyfriend missed your date was difficult. The most you could do was stare at the ceiling until you fell asleep out of pure exhaustion and not because you wanted to.
This, however, was quickly interrupted by the sound of the front door opening, which made you sit up. At the sound of Mingyu's footsteps approaching the bedroom, you grabbed your phone and pretended you were occupied by whatever was on the screen.
He walked in, and part of you hated to see how relaxed he looked. He could've pretended to look at least a tiny bit guilty. "Hey," you offhandedly greeted, your phone seemingly more important than him.
"Hey, baby," Mingyu said, giving you a sweet smile that almost melted all the anger you felt for him away. But you had to stay strong, so you didn't say anything.
From the corner of your eye, you could see that he was confused at your lack of reaction; whenever he would come home, you'd practically jump at him and ask him questions and kiss him all over his face even if he came from dance practice.
"How was dance practice?" You asked.
"It was good but tiring like always. But I went out with a couple of the members for food afterward, and that's always fun," Mingyu recalled.
"I tried calling you but you didn't answer," you told him, and a look of realization showed on his face.
"Oh, I turned off my phone in order to focus on practice and I forgot to turn it on. Sorry babe," he apologized.
You hummed in response then said, "It's fine, just get ready for bed so we can sleep,"
Mingyu nodded, still visibly confused about how you were acting, but went into the bathroom in order to get ready for bed.
However, he must've turned his phone back on, since you heard him curse and then ran out of the bathroom. You guessed that he must've seen your texts about reminding him for the date or Wonwoo scolding him for forgetting about the date.
"Baby, I am so sorryâ" he started, rushing to your side of the bed and kneeling down so you guys made eye contact.
"Gyu, it's fine," you cut him off, even if you were lying through your teeth.
"No, it's not fine. I should've remembered and you shouldn't have to remind me. I could've set a billion reminders about the date and even asked some of my members to remind meâ" Mingyu started rambling.
"Gyu, don't worry about it. However, this can't happen again, okay? If you're going to be late or just can't come, then text me. I don't wanna have to worry unnecessarily about where you are," you told him.
He stayed quiet for a bit, before saying, "...Are you sure it's fine?"
You nodded and he kissed you on the forehead.
"Of course, it's not fine! When has it ever been fine to miss out on a date and not answer your girlfriend's texts?!" Wonwoo scolded Mingyu.
Mingyu pouted and tried to defend himself by saying, "She said it was fine! Why would she say it's fine if it really wasn't?"
Wonwoo sighed and massaged his temples as if he had a headache (he probably did from dealing with his best friend). "Mingyu, if someone says they're fine, more often than not it means it isn't fine," he said.
"Then what should I do?"
"She's your girlfriend, you should be answering that,"
"I've already messed up enough as it is," Mingyu sighed.
"Look, your dates started out as a way to spend time with each other despite your busy schedules, right?"
"Right,"
"And for the most part, she's been the one arranging all of the dates you guys have, right?"
"Yeah, unfortunately," Mingyu guiltily said. This fact always made him feel bad because made him feel like if he didn't put more effort in, you'd find someone who could.
"Then, do something that shows you're going to become better,"
Mingyu contemplated Wonwoo's words before he knew what he was going to do.
Unlocking the door, you walked through and were surprised to see Mingyu sitting on the couch. "Babe, what are you doing here? You were supposed to be at work," you said.
Mingyu stood up and walked until he was stopped in front of you. Gently grabbing your forearms, he said, "Let's go on a date,"
Raising your eyebrows, you questioned, "You? Arranged a date?"
Nodding his head, Mingyu then said, "I know I haven't been the best boyfriend. With missing our date, turning off my phone, and not even letting you know that I was going to come home late, I'm just glad you're still here,"
You nodded, "Of course, I'm still here. I love you, but like I said last night, it can't happen again."
"And it won't. But, I have a surprise for you,"
Mingyu led you to your bedroom door, which was closed. He placed you in front of it and he opened it, and then you saw that your bedroom curtains were closed but your room was lit up by candles that were scattered around.
On your bed, were plates of some of your favorite foods that Mingyu cooked whenever he had the time. And on the TV, was your favorite movie already loaded in and paused.
Smiling at the cute sight, you turned to Mingyu, who looked nervous for your reaction. "You did this all for me?" you asked, touched.
"You've been working hard on your own job and trying to navigate dating me, so I wanted to do something that showed my appreciation for you," he told you.
"This is so sweet! I don't know what to say,"
"You don't have to say anything right now, since I have about a week in order to make up for everything,"
"What do you mean?"
"I know that you were planning to take your planned break from your job, so I asked to take a week off too," MIngyu informed you.
"But, Gyu, a week is a lot of time you're going to miss. How about the comeback?" you worriedly asked him.
"I've got it all figured out. Wonwoo's going to send me videos of the dance practices so I can learn them from home and I already learned and recorded my lines with Woozi," he told you.
"That's a lot to do from home," you commented.
"As long as I'm with you, I'm fine," he reassured you.
"So, a whole week?"
"A whole week. The members aren't allowed to contact me if it's work-related," Mingyu said.
"Did Wonwoo scold you for forgetting?"
"I almost thought he was going to strangle me for how dumb I was being,"
taglist (if your name is not underlined, it means I was unable to tag you): @belladaises @winterpaos @wonhuiful @minhui896 @baekhyunimochibbh @x-alightinthedark @whywontyousetfree @minghaossv @coffeesandrains @slaveofmydreams @bmkgemz @dandycharmer @outrologist @stagefrjghts @dahliatopia @exo-saranghajaaa @uhlatcha @watermelon-sugars-things @miniminimingi @venzline @kokorit0 @withloveyjh @mikopikotobiko @lockburn-castle @mrs-kamisato @userjunhuii @mypsychicpizzaworld @againwithwonu @violetvoo @maevadobreva @hyperhanie @soonyoungblr @miesieu @baekhyunstruly @ryusol @xuenihao @itsrachelsplace @thatcuteandquietgirl @yoonzinoooo @swinterr @xyncthiaaa @dearxia
#seventeen fluff#mingyu fluff#kim mingyu fluff#seventeen imagines#seventeen x reader#mingyu x reader#kim mingyu x reader#seventeen scenarios#svt x reader#mingyu fic#mingyu scenario#mingyu imagines#seventeen mingyu#seventeen reactions
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Silk and Gold
Marvel | Starker
When a train robbery goes wrong, Peter takes the blame a man's death. Weeks pass while Peter hides out from Sheriff Stane and his men, but eventually it becomes clear that he'll never be able to go home unless he can get them off his back. Anthony Stark is notorious in the crime world and getting Peter out of trouble would be child's play for him, but he doesn't just give things like that away for free. Gold and silk mean little to a man who can take whatever he wants.
Rating: Explicit
Prompt fill for anon
Warning and tags below
Warnings/tags: romnoncon/coercion, humiliation, pain kink, first time, rough sex, face slapping, breed kink, size kink, minor character death, western AU
They knew the dynamite would give them away, they just didn't know how quickly the sheriff and his men would be on them. It took longer than Peter expected for the train to stop even as it crashed. It continued to skid an impressive distance, tearing apart the ground beneath it. Peter and his posse cheered as it finally came to a stop beside the blasted tracks. It was gonna cost the rail company a pretty penny to replace all of this. After they refused to hire Peter on for so many months and left him hungry and lost, he reckoned they deserved the trouble it got them.
Harry went right for the cargo while MJ went to fish the stunned conductor from the wreckage. He was banged up good, but alive. She tied his arms to his back and marched him away from the train in case it blew. Peter figured it was good for Harry to bring his wife along for jobs like this. Kept him righteous.
He joined his friend in the cargo car. Harry has the biggest smile on his face.
"Look at this! Nothing but fine jewelry and look!" He held up a sheer white scarf. "Silk all the way from China. Do you know what this is worth?"
"Hope it's worth as much as gold since that's what you promised me." Peter looked around the crates. They were chest high and stuffed to the brim with goods.
Harry scoffed and tossed him something. Peter caught it in his hands. The gold gleamed in the low sunlight. "A pocket watch? What's the point in making something like that out of gold?"
Harry laughed. "What you gotta learn, Pete, is that the people who have gold want to show it off. Leaving it in a vault for folk like us to break in and steal? Where's the fun in that? No, they want everyone to see what they've got and writhe with jealousy."
"Writhe?"
"Yeah it's like... squirming in pain. Writhe."
Peter nodded. He pushed open another crate and started digging in. Scarfs, skirts, watches, and necklaces all were stuffed into his bag. Then they heard MJ call.
"It's the sheriff! They're on us!" she shrieked.
They both jumped and ran to the door. Sure enough five horses were barreling their way. Peter looked for his own and found it far out of reach. If he whistled it would only reach him as the sheriff did. They might even shoot her down.
MJ appeared at the back of the train car, sitting atop her and Harry's horse. He climbed on behind her.
"Come on, Pete!" He offered his hand.
Peter looked at the horse, then back at the sheriff. She could handle the weight if only for a mile or two. They just needed to get away. He grabbed Harry's hand and jumped up behind him. He clung to his friend's chest as they both leaned in.
Bullets pinged off the metal of the train. Harry took out his gun and fired back.
"Don't hit them!" MJ warned.
"I'm not, I'm not," Harry soothed. "Just tryin' to keep them back."
"It's not working," she huffed.
Peter clenched his jaw. They were too heavy. The mare wasn't strong enough. The longer they drew this out, the weaker she would be. If he let go now, she might have enough in her for them to get away.
So he let go.
"Pete!" Harry called. He reached back for him, but Peter slipped back right off the horse's rear. Harry screamed his name.
Peter hit the ground and rolled as best as he could, but the angle was wrong and he still twisted his ankle. At least nothing felt broken. He sprinted for the nearby hills.
MJ turned the horse around. Peter waved her off, silently begging her to go. They'd follow the easier the target. Or better yet, they might split up. Either way, that horse was fast and she knew this area well. They'd be okay.
Peter could just make out her frustrated huff as Harry convinced her to go.
He kept running. A bullet struck the ground not far from his hip, but he didn't look back. There were two behind him, maybe three. They were gaining fast, aiming for his legs. But they didn't reach him before he reached the hills.
"Peter Parker! We know that's you, boy!" The sheriff called across the distance. "Stop now before this gets ugly!"
His anxious stomach didn't care for that idea, but he kept running anyway, right into the old mine shaft. It had been abandoned for only a few years now. The place was overrun with snakes and the miners had left after the third death. He couldn't be sure if they would follow him inside or that they wouldn't try to stake him out, but he couldn't outrun a horse.
The mine sloped down, blocking out the light from above. Peter slowed to a quick walk until finally he couldn't see past the end of his nose and he stopped. He squatted down in the dark and felt around in the dirt. His hands found the cold metal of an old mine cart. Careful not to make a sound, he crawled behind it.
"Parker!" the sheriff called as he reached the entrance. He heard one of the horses whinny.
"Careful, Sheriff. There's snakes in there. Horses can tell," one of his men said.
"The only snake in there is Peter Parker," he huffed. "And I ain't leavin without him."
Peter jumped as a loud sound came from not too far away. He felt the slightest tremble in the ground.
"What the hell?" someone said.
"Down there! The base of the mountain is smoking!"
"That damned Osborn. He set off an avalanche!" the sheriff said.
"What about the others? They could have killed them. They could need our help."
"Dammit!" They were quiet for a moment. "Alright. You stay here and wait for the boy to come out. We'll go and check it out. Do not leave until you have him. Ya hear?"
"Yes, sir."
Two horses galloped away. It was silent. Then he heard feet shuffling in the dirt and an irritated huff. Peter leaned his head back against the cart. No one seemed keen on following himself at least. He could rest for a few minutes. He hoped the others were okay. They'd probably done that for him. Too bad it would be for nothing if he couldn't get away.
He couldn't see any deeper into the shaft. There was only the light behind and slightly above him. He could feel a breeze coming up from below. Somewhere down there must have been a second entrance, but it was too dark to see and he'd never been that deep.
"Come on out already! We already know how this ends!" the man at the entrance hollered. "Either you get bit down there or you come crawling out and we drag you down to the jailhouse."
Peter didn't respond.
"Unless you've been bit already..."
He just breathed. Thinking. There had to be a way out of this. He'd done this plenty of times before. There was only one of them. The only problem was that Peter didn't have a gun. He didn't like the things. It seemed wrong to kill a man so impersonally. Killing shouldn't be easy. Not that he wanted to kill anyone.
He got an idea.
"Alright, you win!" he called up. "I'm coming out! Just don't shoot!"
"Why the change of heart?" he called back suspiciously.
"I heard something moving down there. I don't know what it is, but better a jail cell then a rattler!"
"Yeah? Come on out then."
Peter stood and shuffled his feet around in the dirt. After a moment he cried out.
"My foot! It's stuck! I stepped in a hole or something!"
"That ain't my problem. You got yourself in there."
"Please! There's something in here! I can't move!"
The man sighed. "Dammit... you better not be pullinâ my leg."
Peter stayed hidden behind the cart as he heard him approach. "Thank you! You're a good man!"
"Yeah yeah- holy hell..." the man stopped. Peter's heart sank as he heard it. A rattle.
"Aw fuck! You tricked me! You damned bastard! When I get ahold of you I'm gonna put on between your eyes and push right into the bottom of this mine. Stane won't know what happened to ya!"
"Shut up!" Peter hissed. "You're gonna piss it off. I didn't know it was there, okay? I was bluffing."
"You're a liar and a coward, Peter Parker!" The rattling stopped. The man took a step and it started up again. "To hell with this."
Peter flinched at the sound of a gunshot. There were two more. Then the man screamed. Peter closed his eyes. The gun shots stopped, but the screaming continued.
He peeked around the cart. He couldn't see much, just a shadow of something squirming. Slowly, he came out of his hiding place.
"You alright?" he asked.
The man sobbed.
Peter approached slowly. There was no rattling. No signs of any snakes. As he came close, he could see that the man was pale in the face. He clutched at his chest. There was a lot of blood. The thing had bit him multiple times on the legs and hands. As he came close, the man collapsed. He was still breathing, but he needed a doctor.
He could hear horses in the distance. There was no time for sympathy. Stane would find him and take care of him surely. He had to worry about himself for now. He'd be okay.
Peter ran from the mine. Behind him he heard the tell tale rattle, but nothing bit at his ankles. Lucky.
He found the deputy's horse a few paces from the mine. It must have balked when it heard the snake. It didn't mind Peter climbing onto its back and let him ride it back toward town. He rode for a while, sometimes doubling back, leaving a mess of tracks in the dry soil. Then he rode off into the pastures.
He managed to hide out for a few days before someone spotted him and sent Stane after him. He couldn't go back to MJ's farm while Stane was looking for him, so he left town altogether. Only to find that the next town over had already been alerted about the train robbery. And not just the robbery, but the dead deputy, too. Sheriff Stane blamed him. Despite the obvious snake bites and the fact that Peter was far from a snake charmer, he was still wanted for murder. Everyone was looking for him and once he was caught, he'd be hanged. He had nowhere to run.
The golden pocket watch bought him a room and some food and the silence of a gruff old man who didn't seem to care who he was or what he was up to. Then he was on the run again. But he couldn't run forever.
That's how he ended up back home. He kept his head down. The brim of his hat shaded his face. His heart pounded. He'd heard word that the sheriff and his crew were out dealing with bandits down by the mill outside of town. Even if someone recognized him and wanted to turn him in, they couldn't. So long as no one wanted to take the law into their own hands. But it wasn't as if he'd hurt anyone.
He'd hear whispers in his travels about a man thought of as a king among criminals. He'd never met Anthony Stark in person, but he was notorious in his town. Despite being a gangster, the law looked the other way when it came to Stark. If only because he owned the only brothel for miles around. Others swore he'd saved all sorts of criminals from fates as grim as the noose. Appealing to Stark might just be his only chance.
Peter entered through the swinging doors. Inside seemed nothing more than a dimly lit saloon. A woman tended the bar. She was beautiful with a face caked in paints and powders and her hair done up in curls that fell around her round face. She smiled kindly as he entered.
"Can I help you, mister?" she asked sweetly.
Across the room, a man played a soft and soothing tune on the piano. A patron was asleep with his head down on a table and four empty bottles beside his head. Peter approached the bar.
"Yes, ma'am, I hope so. I'm looking for Mr. Stark."
Her smile fell. Her eyes ran over him coldly. "A boy like you?" she tsked. "What'd he rope you into?"
Peter shook his head. "Nothing like that, ma'am. I just need his help."
She laughed bitterly. "Oh sure. I suppose you just need him to help you patch your momma's fencing." She rolled her eyes. "It ain't none of my business. I work up front so I ain't gotta know."
With her hands on the bar she looked at a door at the back of the room. "Let me just see if he's available, alright kid?"
"Thank ya, ma'am." Peter nodded his head politely. He leaned against the bar as she walked away. His heart raced. Sure, he was a criminal himself but that was largely out of necessity. He'd tried doing things the honest way. Stark was different. They said his father had been a gangster and his father before him. They were criminals before they'd even crossed the pond.
The woman returned to the bar. "He says he'll see you, but don't waste his time," she sighed. "He's been awful bored lately. Mind you don't piss him off. He'll take great pleasure in making you regret it. He might cure his boredom using you for target practice."
"Thanks." Peter swallowed, doing his best to shove his anxiety down with it. He walked past the bar and into the next room.
It was a large bedroom. As big as MJ's whole house. One massive bed sat against one wall along with a desk and a wardrobe. On the other side of the room was a couple of sofas in front of a fireplace. A man sat in a chair facing the door. On the table beside him was a book and a glass of whiskey with little more than a drop left at the bottom.
"Mr. Stark?"
"That's me," the man said. He crossed one leg over the other. His jaw rested against his knuckles as he examined him.
"It's nice to meet you, sir. My name's Peter Parker." He stepped forward and offered his hand, but the man didn't move so he let it fall.
"I know. Who else would be so desperate as to come to me?" He smiled. "I'm awful scary, ain't I?"
Peter smiled back. "You seem decent to me, sir. I hear you're someone to admire."
"Is that so?"
"Yes, sir. They say you're brilliant. But I didn't come here just to flatter you, sir." Peter opened up his bag. He froze as Stark pointed his gun at him. "I'm not armed, I swear."
"You just show me what you got, nice and slowly."
Peter nodded. Shaking, he pulled a silk scarf from the bag. "See? I took a few things from that train a couple weeks back. It's all yours if you help me."
"You did an awful lot more than rob a train. They say that deputy died quite a slow, awful, death. A bit of silk can't get you out of the pinch you're in."
"I know that. There's plenty more. I went and buried it, but I'll show you where if you promise to help me. Please, sir."
Stark didn't look impressed, but he put his gun away. His eyes seemed to roam Peter's body. Perhaps he was bored already.
"Listen, I have tons more silk, just like this one. And jewelry, too. Diamonds and gold, a pearl necklace..."
Stark rose from his seat and walked towards him, one heavy step at a time, as Peter babbled. His voice trailed off as they were nose to nose. Stark lifted his hand slowly like you might around a stray animal. His fingers dragged up his throat and up to hold his chin. With the other hand, he took the hat from his head and tossed it onto the bed.
"Baby, I don't want your jewels," he purred.
Peter swallowed. "Then what..." He shivered as he realized. He couldn't mean that could he? But those eyes, those dark and dilated pupils. The way he looked at him with more hunger than he'd ever seen in a man before. Tony's lips curled into a lazy grin as he watched his face.
His hand slid along his jaw to the back of his neck. Peter stood frozen in place as Stark leaned in and pressed their lips together. He'd always heard it was bad etiquette to kiss a whore. It's too intimate. Save it for your wife, they say. He understood why now. Stark kissed like he was savoring the taste of him as if he were the finest wine or the juiciest cut of meat. His lips felt so unexpectedly plump and so enticingly warm. Then they parted so slightly and the tip of his tongue teased the seam of his lips. Peter sighed, longing and deep. Pleasure flowed like whiskey through his blood. It made him feel warm and hazy and found himself reaching for him, kissing him back with a hand on his waist.
When realized what he was doing, where he was, and why. He pushed him back, taking a step back, himself.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Stark," he gasped, panic jolting through him. "I can't- I-"
"Do you want my help or not?" He looked at him, both eyebrows raised. His face was flushed. "I hate to ask twice."
Peter swallowed. He straightened his back. "No, sir. I'm sorry. I'll find some other way."
"Think you can bribe Stane with those pretty silks of yours? He can just take them off your corpse when they're done hanging you, sweetheart."
He took another step back. His heart pounded in his ears. "I'm sorry," he said again. Then he backed out the door. He ran through the bar and back outside.
The afternoon sun blazed against his face. He was still holding the scarf in one hand and people were staring. He stuffed it into his bag and hurried down the street. He had to find somewhere to hide for the night, get out of town in the morning. Maybe he'd be better off heading east. He could use the jewelry to buy a train ticket. He was mapping it all out in his mind, putting a new plan together when someone pulled a sack right over his head.
Peter lashed out, swinging his fists, but someone grabbed him around the middle.
"Just you hold still," they laughed.
"You ain't goin nowhere!" said another. They dragged him, kicking and fighting, down the dirt road. He couldn't see, but he felt it when his feet hit the wooden deck. They dragged him inside, out of the sun and into somewhere stuffy.
"Let me go!" he screamed.
"Alright, here ya go," someone mocked. He heard metal clanking. Someone yanked his bag off his shoulders and over his head. Then they shoved him.
He fell face first, catching himself on his hands and spraining his wrist. He yanked the sack off of his head and turned around to see three men slamming the cell door. They turned the key in the lock.
"You've got a lot of nerve comin' 'round here, Parker," one of them jeered. He looked scruffy and his clothes were spotted with sweat stains.
"Don't you know how much Stane is offering for ya? We're all takinâ our retirement tomorrow," another one said. This one had sun dark skin that was still peeling beneath his eyes. They didn't look any different than your average working men. They had a lot to gain from a bounty. He'd been an idiot to come into town.
"I didn't kill anyone! You're hanging an innocent man," Peter tried.
"That's too bad. We get paid either way. Doesn't matter what the sheriff does with ya."
"Are you sure?" One of the guys said. "What if he's really innocent?"
Another guy laughed. "Yeah, right. He'd say anything to get himself out of there."
The door opened and in walked Obadiah Stane. He smirked when he saw Peter in the cell.
"Nice work, fellas. Go and talk to Beck about your payment."
They hurried off without so much as a look back at Peter. Then it was just the two of them alone.
"Thought you'd got away with it did ya, Parker?"
"I didn't kill him. You know I didn't. You have to. You saw what that snake did to him."
Stane looked surprised, but Peter didn't buy it. "Snake? No, you hacked him up like the lunatic you are and dumped the pieces in the bottom of that mine."
"You can't do this! I'll tell the judge everything!"
"What judge?" Stane chuckled. "Don't ya know he's out of town? Been gone a week now already. Won't be back for a month or two. And I ain't waitin' that long. Not when I've got such a cruel, sadistic, killer on my hands." His lips spread into a wide, cruel grin. Then he burst into laughter so strong that he held his belly.
"Someone's gotta pay for this, kid. I ain't sorry that it's you. All you and those Osborns do is cause trouble. Only I can't bother them can I? The town'd have a fit if I messed with Norman's son. You, though, nobody will miss."
Peter swallowed. He was right. He should have thought about that back at the train. Not that he would ever willingly throw Harry to the wolves, but maybe they could have come up with a better plan. "What about the goods? All the jewels and silk that I took? I'll tell you where I hid them if you let me go."
Stane turned around and walked to the desk. He picked up Peter's bag and rifled through it. "There's more out there somewhere, that it?"
"I buried it."
Stane looked at him, eyebrows raised. "Now what would you do a thing like that for, son?"
"I'm not just gonna walk around with valuables like that on my person. I'm not an idiot."
"Aren't you just?" Stane chuckled. He patted the bag. "This'll do just fine. It's a steal for me either way. I get to hang the bastard that killed a dear friend and I get a couple of prizes."
"I didn't kill him, Stane!"
The sheriff shrugged. "It was your fault he was in that damned mine, wasn't it? Sounds to me like you killed him."
Peter clenched his teeth. There was nothing he could say and nothing he could do. He sat down on the bench against the wall. Stane left him alone. He kicked his feet up on the desk and took to reading the paper. He wasn't sure how he fell asleep, but a while later, he woke to the feeling of being watched.
The sun was low, now. Dawn or dusk, he wasn't sure, but it was dark. Stane wasn't at his desk, but someone else was looming outside his cell.
"Come to say I told you so?" Peter asked. He sat up on the bench and rubbed the sleep from his face.
Stark smirked. He leaned against the bars. "I didn't come to talk." He held up the key to Peter's cell.
Peter jumped up and ran to the door. "You're getting me out?"
"That depends on you, doesn't it? I know I said I hate to ask twice, but it's a damn shame to let such a pretty thing go without a fight."
Peter paled. He couldn't believe he was still asking, but dammit if he wasn't desperate enough now.
"What do you say, pretty boy?" Tony reached through the bars to pet the side of his face. Two fingers traced the shape of his lips. He had a curious look in his eyes. Peter watched him with a racing heart. Then those fingers pushed past his lips. He didn't know why, but he allowed it. He shivered when he tasted them on his tongue. They pushed back into his throat and Peter swallowed.
"Are you gonna be a good whore for me?" Tony whispered. He thought about telling him no, but the threat of the noose made his blood run cold. He'd do anything and he hated himself for it, but he would. Peter nodded, fingers still between his lips. "Yeah, you are. Look at you."
He took his fingers from his mouth. Peter swayed, off balance by the sudden movement. Tony unlocked the cell and stepped inside. Peter felt cornered as he approached.
"You ever been with a man, Pete?" Peter shook his head. Tony smiled. "Good. I like to play teacher."
Peter backed into the wall as Tony came closer. His fingers touched his lips again. "You seem like a smart kid. I bet you already know what a whore uses this for."
Peter's face grew hot. "Go on, sweetheart. What's it for?" His fingers brushed over his lips, tracing them in circles. Peter closed his eyes and shook his head. The back of Tony's hand battered the side of his face. A startled cry escaped him. His whole body tensed for a fight, but Tony grabbed him by the throat. Peter glared as Tony pried open his jaw and forced his fingers inside, stretching his mouth around four of them.
"What's this fucking hole for, Pete? Huh?"
Peter struggled. He tried to tell him to stop, but his mouth was stretched to its limit as Tony tried to fit his hand in wrist deep. He held it back as long as he could, but two of Tony's fingers brushed the back of his throat and he choked. Tony slapped him again.
"Come on, you're a smart boy." He jerked his arm back and forth like he was fucking his mouth with his fingers. His face was a mess of spit. As he tried to escape, Tony's hand left his neck to grab him by the hair instead. It was much more effective at keeping him still, forcing him to submit. When he stopped struggling, he realized it was much easier if he relaxed. He blinked back tears and looked at the man's face.
"That's a good boy," Tony cooed. "Tell me."
"For..." Peter tried to speak around Tony's hand. Smirking, Tony pulled his fingers out of his mouth and held his chin.
"For sucking your cock, sir."
"Very good," Tony purred. "You're gonna be a good student, aren't ya? You gonna make me proud?"
Peter blushed as he realized the man was waiting for an answer. "Yes, sir," he whispered.
"What was that?" Tony barely tapped his cheek, but Peter still flinched.
"Yes, sir," he said louder.
"Good boy. So where should you be?"
Peter's eyes widened, then they flicked to the floor. It wasn't that he'd thought he was joking, but if he had to go through with it, well, he hadn't counted on being an active participant in his own violation.
He slid down the wall to his knees. He stared firmly at Tony's thighs, hands refusing to move.
"Are you waiting for permission? We're well past that, cock sucker."
Peter pressed his lips together and swallowed down the insult. He focused straight ahead, pushing any singular thought to the back of his mind as he unhooked the man's belt. He slid it through the loops and unzipped his pants. Shame heated his skin, but still he wrapped his hand around Tony's cock and pulled it free, sliding his pants down just enough. He just had to get through this. Then he would be free. He started to pump his cock in his hand, breathing steadily, refusing to react. He could go back to Harry and MJ and finally take them up on that offer to be their farm hand. Even if it was a hand out. It was better than this.
Tony's hand connected with his face again. This time Peter glared up at him, body gone stiff on instinct. Tony grabbed him by the hair, capturing both of his wrists in one hand when he reached for his arm. He shook him, hair tugging at his scalp.
"You're here with me, kid. I don't want any glassy eyed 'close your eyes and dream of London' bullshit, you got me? If you're gonna do it, do it right."
"Sorry, sir," Peter cried. Tony let go of him. He was shaken. The fight fled his system leaving him docile, even tamed.
"Try again," Tony ordered.
Peter tried again, this time focusing on what he was doing. Shame twisted in his stomach like coiling snakes.
"That's much better," Tony praised. He ran his fingers through Peter's hair. "Open up, now."
He let Tony pull him in as he parted his lips. His cock was bigger than he'd thought, forcing him to open wider to take the head into his mouth. He shivered as the salty taste touched his tongue. At least it didn't taste too bad. He focused again before Stark could get mad at him again. He licked all around the head and traced the ridges with his tongue. He wasn't sure he was doing it right, but if he did a decent job, this could be over quicker. He tried sucking on it and running his tongue down the length. None of this seemed to get much of a reaction until he looked up. Their eyes met and he felt it as Tony's cock throbbed against his tongue. His hand tightened just a bit in his hair and he pushed into his mouth just a little bit more.
"Such a pretty thing," Tony sighed. With one hand he pet Peter's cheek. "You want to please me don't you? I can tell."
There was something to his words that made him blush. He tried taking more of him into his mouth, moving up and down his length, all while gazing up at him. It was embarrassing, but Stark seemed to enjoy it. He watched him with those dark, hungry eyes. Rich sighs and moans left his lips. Peter kept going, undeniably proud of himself as he puzzled out what the man liked. He didn't hate it. The friction, the fullness, it felt good. And he liked getting such reactions out of a man so powerful. A man with countless whores at his disposal, no less.
Tony grabbed his hair and stopped him. "Keep your mouth open," he ordered. Then he trust his hips, fucking into his mouth as if it were a cunt. Embarrassment burned even hotter under his skin. It was one thing to suck a man off, but it was another to have his mouth as if he wasn't even attached to it. But he sat, still and obedient, mouth hanging open. Drool ran over his chin and he ignored it. Tony's cock, forced open his throat, drawing obscene noises out of him, but only seemed to make Tony moan, so he didn't protest. He thought for sure the man was close to the edge, for sure it was almost over. And then he stopped and released him.
"Strip and get on the bed."
Peter stared at him for a moment as he tried to decipher what he was being asked. He wiped the drool off his face and stood. He yanked the laces on his boots and kicked them off. Then hesitantly, he started to unbutton his shirt until Tony smacked his hand.
"No. You can't please a man like that, sweetheart. You gotta work a little harder. Go slowly."
Face burning, Peter unbuttoned his shirt while Tony watched. "Good. Now let it roll off your shoulders. There now you can pull it off your arms."
Peter swallowed. The way he looked at him, at his body, felt violating. Almost more so than the way he'd brutalized his throat. He grabbed the back of his undershirt and pulled it over his head, going slowly in hopes of avoiding any more criticism. Right or wrong, Tony allowed it. He stood ogling Peter's toned chest down to his abdomen. His tongue slipped out, running over his bottom lip as he admired his narrow hips.
"Keep going."
He couldn't look at Tony, but he couldn't pretend he hated his eyes on him either. Coerced though he might be, the guy was still handsome, still powerful, still kissed as if he would devour him. He wanted that again.
Peter unhooked his belt and pulled it slowly through the loops. He unbuttoned his jeans and slowly dragged them down to his knees before he let them drop and pushed them aside along with his socks. Then he stood, thumbs hooked in the waistband of his underwear. Bravely, he looked up and met Tony's eye before he pulled them down and added them to the mess on the floor.
It startled him how fast Tony moved and how violently he grabbed him. His fingers dug into his arms and his neck. Their mouths latched together. His back hit the wall, but he didn't care. Tony was kissing him, making him gasp for breath, making him moan when their tongues brushed together. He pressed in closer, pushing Peter harder into the wall. His thigh was against Peter's groin and as he moved, Peter whined, his cock hard and overstimulated by the rough texture of his still open jeans. His hand squeezed his throat. Peter felt like he was melting. There wasn't a thought in his head beyond wanting more.
When Tony stopped, Peter ached for him. "Get on the bench," he ordered. He let Peter go and took a step back. He watched him with predatory eyes as he unbuttoned his shirt.
Peter swallowed. He slowly stepped to the side as he might startle a wild animal. He found the bench and bent over it, bracing himself on his arms. His heart raced. Surely it couldn't be that bad.
"Oh no, baby boy," Tony chuckled. "This is your first time. Lay on your back."
Face burning, Peter turned around and laid back on the hard wood. The bench wasn't long enough to stretch his legs out, forcing him to bend his knees. The embarrassment could have killed him. Tony looked down at him, ogling his body while he stroked his cock. He'd coated it in some kind of lubricant at least. It made a vulgar wet sound as he touched himself. Still it looked huge from this angle. Like it might truly break him in half.
"That's a good boy. I want to make this special for you, sweetheart. Just like a honeymoon." He stepped in between his legs and knelt on the bench. There was barely enough room for the both of them. Tony hiked one of his legs up and put it over his shoulder. Peter's hands went up to cover his face, but Tony pulled them back down.
"None of that. Can't have my beautiful bride hiding away." He winked.
A retort came to his tongue. Then Tony started to push his cock inside him and all Peter could get out of his mouth was, "Ah ah ah," he was split open.
Tony bent and captured his lips. Peter let him have whatever he wanted, following him in the kiss, entirely submissive to his whims. As easily as if he'd flipped a switch, he felt like he had no resistance left. He didn't know if it was the pain or the pleasure that had overwhelmed him, but he was done for.
Tony moaned against his mouth. "You like that don't you? I knew you would. I've got an eye for boys who need to be bred."
"Hurts," Peter gasped.
Tony chuckled. "Does it? Does it hurt, sweetheart? Or does it feel like the best fucking thing that's ever happened to you?" He moved his hip, just a fraction, but Peter wailed. It was good. It was so good. It burned and he felt stretched open and humiliated, but it felt so good. Blindingly good.
His cock just kept going deeper all while Peter could do nothing but moan in pain and pleasure. If you'd asked him, he would have sworn it was in his stomach.
"Look at that," Tony mused. "You're just the right size." He smacked his hips against Peter's ass. His eyes rolled back in his head and for a moment he saw spots. Peter gasped as his cock was touched. The shock of it made him half sit up, moving the cock inside him and melting his brain once again. Tony pushed him back down with a hand on his chest.
"Just relax, pretty boy. You're my playing thing now. I can touch whatever I want. Can't I?"
Peter stared up at him dumbly, words a million miles away. Tony's eyebrow twitched and he knew what was coming but he couldn't move to stop it. His hand struck his cheek. It brought him back to life, if only a little.
"Yes, sir," Peter gasped.
"Yes, sir, what?"
"You can... touch whatever you want... sir."
"That's a good boy." He leaned in closer, folding Peter in half. Peter's eyes widened and his lips fell open as he felt his cock go even deeper. It really hurt now and somehow he loved it. Somehow he wanted more. His fingers dug into the sides of Tony's jeans as he tried to pull him closer.
"You want to be full," he teased. Don't worry, sweetheart. I'm gonna fill you up right." His hand wrapped around his throat again. Then he started to move his hips. Peter didn't let go of his jeans though his grip was loose. That cock moving inside him was everything he didn't know he'd ever wanted. Whatever Tony wanted, he could have it as long as he kept fucking him. He'd take up walking on all fours and barking like a dog if he asked him to.
"You've got tears in your eyes, Pete. Did you find god hanging off my cock?" he teased. "You love it, don't you?"
"Yes," Peter gasped, only now, no shame followed the admission. He couldn't feel anything but pleasure. Greedy with it, he reached out and pulled Tony in for another kiss. He felt him grin against his mouth before giving him what he was asking for.
After a moment he stopped and grabbed Peter's wrist, pulling his hand away and pinning it beside his head. He grabbed Peter's hip with the other hand, holding him down as he fucked him hard, as deeply as he could get. Each thrust of his hips made him gasp, the sound of his own voice pitched higher each time, pleasure growing. He barely touched himself before he came, crying out, the sound echoing off the brick walls.
"That's my good boy," Tony purred. "You learn quickly don't you?" He moaned. He moved his hips faster now. It hurt as the pleasure of his orgasm faded, but just like the pain of his cock all the way in his stomach, it felt incredible. He only wanted more.
Peter whimpered, crying like an injured puppy, entirely shameless. He still wanted more. He needed it.
"That must hurt by now," Tony commented. "Don't tell me you like that, too."
Peter chewed his bottom lip. He didn't meet his eyes. Tony grabbed him by the hair, pushing his cock all the way in and holding him there like a fish on a hook.
"Tell me," he growled. He pulled so hard that his eyes watered.
"I liked it," Peter gasped. "I like the pain, sir."
Tony pulled harder and Peter moaned. "Fuck," Tony gasped. He let go of his hair to hold both of his hips. He fucked him like he wanted to snap his spine while all Peter could do was hold on. He slowed only enough to speak.
"Tell me you want me to breed you. Beg me for it."
Peter licked his dry lips. "Please, sir... breed me please," embarrassment broke his voice. "Please, Mr. Stark. I need it, sir." He wrapped his legs around the man's waist, caging him in. Moaning, Tony fucked him deep and finally came. Peter's eyes widened as he realized he could feel it. It was hot and wet and deep in his gut. He moaned and his own cock throbbed, begging for more. He stroked himself while Tony came inside him. When Tony realized what he was doing, he grinned lazily.
"What a little whore," he teased. "Keep going, sweetheart. Make yourself cum for me. Getting bred was more than you could handle, huh? Fucking cock hole." He grabbed him by the hair again and Peter moaned, cumming hard, his whole body shivering. He melted into a limp puddle beneath him.
Tony gave him another kiss. He almost wanted to cry as clarity returned to him. What the hell had he just done?
Peter cleared his throat. "Am I free now, sir? You'll get me out?"
Tony smiled. "Oh, you're free from the noose. I'll make Stane drop the charges against you."
Peter eyed him suspiciously. "What else do you want from me?"
"You're not finished with your end, Pete," he said as if speaking to a child. "That was just the trial run, sweetheart. I'm gonna take you somewhere nice and private for the real thing."
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Crystalline
Eyes meet, you know where this goes Her keys in, they take off their clothes They're soaking, caught in a dream Her skin shines, like crystalline âThe Midnight, "Crystalline"
đȘ§ Summary: On the night Yuji Itadori consumes Sukunaâs Finger, Satoru finds a familiar face at the epicenter of a shocking discovery. Takes place three months after If. đ Rating: Explicit â ïž Be Advised: Explicit sexual situations, recreational drug use, descriptions of violence, blood mention. â€ïžâđ„ Pairing: Satoru x Sundari [đ§żđč]
đ This is a commissioned fic by the lovely @septembersums. With her permission, I finally get to post this fic so folks can understand how Satoru and his goddess met. September was kind enough to see my vision and bring it to life in her gorgeous writing style as part of my growing Parallax 'verse. She's an absolute joy to work with and talk to and I highly recommend commissioning a fic writer to bring your vision to life! September's AO3 <- Support her work too!
â©ïž AO3 đ FFN đ Fic Masterlist đ Parallax OCs đ Sonder OCs đ HCs & Meta â©ïž
     Satoru is getting bored.Â
        As much as he loves shopping, and he does love shopping, even Satoru has a limit when it comes to how long he can wander between food stalls browsing the options. Although boredom might not be the best word for it. Restlessness, maybe.Â
        Heâs been idling away the hours while he waits for Megumi to call with news that heâs secured another of Sukunaâs fingers. Itâs a difficult job for a first year, considering how cursed spirits tend to flock to the cursed fingers, but Satoru is fairly confident Megumi can handle it.
        If not, Satoru will just teleport there as soon as he senses danger. Simple, easy. In theory, it shouldnât go wrong. That idea does little to quieten down the sense of unease settling into Satoru. Thereâs something in the air tonight, something that tastes like intuition, something that feels off.
        Satoru attempts to shake the unnatural anxiety by purchasing some more kikufuku. Sweets usually help when he gets a bad feeling like this, which is a decidedly rare occurrence. Even with his impulsive spending, the feeling persists, and it gets stronger. He considers teleporting himself straight to Sendai to see whatâs causing it but ultimately decides against it. Heâll know if something happens.Â
        A shiver runs down his spine while heâs standing in front of a food truck that sells crepes, and he knows that his intuition was right. In an instant, heâs standing at the peak of a skyscraper, looking over the city. The wind whips at his loose-fitting clothes and his hair, as he pulls his blindfold down to get a good look at the situation at hand.Â
        What he sees makes no sense whatsoever. It raises the fine hair at the back of his neck, makes the skin of his arms prickle with goosebumps.Â
        Gaze cast towards Sendai, he sees something thereâ a ripple of cursed energy that looks like Sukuna, but much smaller and less destructive than one would expect of a freshly incarnated Sukuna. Itâs a threat, whatever it is, and thereâs no question about that, but itâs nothing compared to the other surge of cursed energy in the distance.Â
Sendai is a blip on his radar in comparison to the potential nuclear explosion of cursed energy he sees building in Tokyo.
        A massive, ever-swelling fog of cursed energy covers an entire block, settling over the street like a storm cloud. The longer he looks at it, the bigger it grows.Â
        It makes little sense, considering that he knows something significant just happened to one of the cursed fingers in Sendai, but it looks like Sukuna himself just appeared in Tokyo. A fully formed Sukuna with all of his power, decidedly unlike the tiny hints of it he catches when heâs near the fingers.Â
        This is the real fucking thingâ full-fledged, entirely unregulated, a ticking time bomb of a person who will detonate and kill hundreds of people if they arenât contained and controlled quickly.Â
        âHow the fuck is Sukuna in two places at once?â Satoru hisses to himself. Not even Satoru could manage something like that.Â
        Two threats, two people that he needs to keep away from the higher-ups and whoever else might be looking for an incarnated Sukuna. One, however, is a much bigger problem than the other.Â
        A hypnotic bassline thrums in Sundari's ears, a familiar feeling that she normally loves. Right now, though, itâs too much. Something within her is changing, shifting, pulsatingâ growing. It feels like sheâll be torn apart by the surge of strength within herself, as she stumbles away from the dancefloor filled with gyrating bodies and into the bathroom.Â
        Her breaths are labored, pulse racing, as she nearly doubles over against the wall. Sheâs drunk, sure, and sheâs taken a few party drugs just to keep the night going, but she doesnât feel right. Somethingâs fucking wrong, but she doesnât feel bad. No, she feels good. She feels strong, a lot more so than usual.Â
        The bathroom is empty right now, which is a shocker at a rave like this, but sheâs thankful for it. Nobody needs to see her like thisâ panting, as the power within her claws and grips at her insides. It just grows, and grows, and grows. With a rough rasp, she stumbles over to the sink to look at herself in the mirror.Â
        It might be the drugs talking, but something about her face doesnât look right. She blinks a few times at the shifting, moving image reflected back at her.
        The scars underneath her eyes arenât scars anymore. Theyâre eyeballs. Four of them. She squints at herself, leaning closer to get a better look.
        She should not have four fucking eyes right now.Â
        Sundari has tried a lot of shit, but nothing thatâs ever warped her perception like this. The extra eyes blink in tandem with her own, and she can somehow see through them. Itâs disorienting, the shift in perspective, but her vision is only getting better as she acclimates to it.Â
        âThe fuck?â She mumbles, gripping onto the sink for balance.
        The porcelain shatters under her grip, and water floods into the bathroom. Sheâs always been strongâ a good fighter, a damn good fighter. She even makes money off of it on the side, but she shouldnât be that strong. She needs to get the hell out of here before she breaks something else, or worse. She canât imagine what would happen if she bumped into someone right now with her newfound superhuman strength.
        She leaves the bathroom in a rush, stumbling at first as she ascends the dark stairwell that leads out of the underground rave and back into the streets of Tokyo. With every step, she miraculously seems to be sobering up. The metal door leading outside warps when she shoves it open. Fuck.
The cool night air feels better than it did inside. She inhales deeply, sighing audibly as she leans against the brick wall behind her.
        âHuh. Youâre not Sukuna,â a familiar voice drawls from her left.
        She whips her head around to see whoâs talking to her when sheâs having the worst trip of her life, only to see a face she knows all too well. The wickedly pretty boy she hunted in the club a few months ago, not someone she expected to see tonight. Heâs leaning against the wall next to her with his arms crossed, eyeing her warily.Â
        âNahâ Sundari, but I thought you knew that,â she snaps back, a little annoyed to see him again right now of all times. âWhat are you doing here?âÂ
        âI do know that, but I didnât expect to see you here either,â he argues, arms still crossed. âI shouldâve known those seals on your back were for something big, but I didnât think it was this big. Sukunaâs daughter, huh?â
        âThe fuck are you talking about?â She asks, temper flaring.
        Maybe itâs the newfound strength sheâs gaining, but this cryptic, confusing conversation is wearing on at her nerves. Something fucking big is happening to herâ the last thing she needs right now is a weird conversation with a guy she fucked a few months ago.Â
        âCome with me to my place, and Iâll explain it all,â he offers casually. âItâs a lot safer there than it is here for you. Lots of people are going to want to get their hands on you with all the power youâre gaining right now, and I promise youâ Iâm the one you want to end up with.â
        âYou donât know anything about me. Why would I go anywhere with you?â She snaps, pushing off of the wall with a little too much strength behind it.Â
        The brick crumbles, leaving a sizable crater.
        Satoru looks between the crater and her eyes, as if that proves his point.Â
        âYou really want to deal with this without any information about whatâs happening? What happens when you shove past a stranger on the street and break half of their bones? Or use your technique by accident and kill off a whole city block?â
        She hisses out a couple curses, weighing her options. Her decision is only really made when a fractal of a memory slams into her subconscious, and she relives it like a dream sheâs forgotten.Â
        The Godslayer, they called her. A monstrosity falling apart underneath her four hands, as she rips it to shreds. Worship, and her motherâs avoidance.Â
        âFuck,â she hisses. What the fuck was that?
        As far as options go, itâs looking slim right now. She could either trust this guy, or she could do exactly what he said when this keeps happening, and she canât control her own strength. She doesnât want to hurt peopleâ not innocent peopleâ not if she can help it.
        âWhatâs it gonna be, Sundari?â He pressures her.
        âFine, fuck, letâs go,â she says.Â
        He reaches out a hand to her, and she takes it begrudgingly.Â
        Missing pieces of Sundariâs life start to come together within the next few days. Satoru explains some things to her, like Sukuna, and how she must be his daughter or something similar to have inherited this power from him. Nadja always kept her father a secret from her, a piece of the past that she never wanted to unearth.
        The memories come back in waves, usually when she sleeps. Little bits and pieces that donât make sense when separated but start to form a clearer picture when she puts them together. Sheâs a lot older than she thought she was, given that she was worshiped at some point a very, very long time ago. For a number of years that she canât begin to quantify, Sundariâs power has been sealed away, locked inside of her and restricted, as sheâd lived her life like a normal person.
        Satoru explains that Sukuna was recently incarnated somewhere else, and the seal was broken, which explains why she was suddenly able to break sinks, walls, and doors with her bare hands. The four eyes are hard to get used to, but at least the extra arms havenât shown up yet.
        Now, sheâs here in Satoruâs house, being fiercely guarded day and night like some sort of prisoner. Apparently, sheâs in grave danger right now, as if shit wasnât weird enough without that added layer of stress. Satoruâs the strongest sorcerer, which he told her very arrogantly, and his entire job is killing curses like her father, and possibly like her.
        Itâs been tense. Sundari isnât naive enough to think that sheâs entirely safe with Satoru, seeing as he wants to kill her dad because heâs too powerful. Where does that leave Sundari at the end of this? She hates being guarded and coddled like a child, like sheâs something that needs to be contained and controlled, rather than a person.
        Sheâs fucking stressed, and she canât sleep without these dreams of her long-forgotten past haunting her. She doesnât necessarily blame Satoru for needing to kill Sukunaâ heâs chaos incarnate, heâll kill thousands of people if he isnât stopped.
        Somewhere deep inside of herself, Sundari is afraid. Sheâs afraid that Sukunaâs innate violence is lurking beneath her skin, waiting to come out when she doesnât expect it. Afraid that if sheâs left to her own devices, if she gets angry or upset, sheâll become like him. Her memories and Satoruâs stories do enough to remind her of what her father has done, of what sheâs capable of if she doesnât control herself.
        But she can control herself. Sheâs not a loose cannon waiting to be muzzled. Satoru might not see it yet, but she can.
        She doesnât dare mention her feelings to Satoru. Not yet at least. Heâs been nice to her while sheâs staying here, he didnât even make a fuss about it when she accidentally broke a door of its hinges trying to open it, but how much can she trust him? Not enough to reveal her deepest, darkest fears, thatâs for fucking sure.Â
        It takes Sundari a week to gain full control of her own strength. Like an astronaut thatâs just come back from Mars, it takes her a while to settle into herself and feel comfortable with her own bodyâs limitations again. She knows not to push too hard on doors or rip the handles off of the sink.
        Muscle memory from the distant past is kicking in to help her contain her technique. At first, her cursed energy was a serious problem that was only contained by the seals Satoru has around his house. Now, sheâs maintaining it herself so well that even Satoru was shocked to see it.
        The issue now is the weird tension between the two of them. Satoruâs helpful, but she can see the hunger in his eyes when he takes off the blindfold. She feels it within herself, too, now that she can focus on it without worrying so much about her own strength. Something unfinished and unspoken, leftover from the last time they were together. It was a good night, he was a good fuck, and that was supposed to be the end of it.
        Now, theyâre living together, and despite the domesticity of that, she still canât trust him. So, like any reasonable person, she comes up with an idea of how their get over the uncanny tension, or at least make it bearable.
        âDo you have any weed around here?â She asks, as theyâre sitting on the couch together, silently watching some movie sheâs not paying attention to.
        Satoru turns his head slowly to look at her, intrigue written on his features. God, heâs pretty. A little too fucking prettyâ it makes sense that heâs as powerful as her, given that he looks like that.
âI could get some,â he answers nonchalantly.
        Sundari smiles, and maybe theyâll work out their differences after all. Even now, she struggles to be wary of him, heâs so smooth with his words. He matches her wit with ease and returns it just the same. Theyâre too similarâ a little arrogant, both of them, but she doesnât see it as a bad thing. She sees it as a challenge.
        Satoru does come back with some weed a few minutes later, and she struggles to watch him roll a jointâ heâs good at everything, apparently, but not that.
        âGod, youâre bad at that. Let me do it,â she says, frowning as she takes the half-rolled, uneven thing out of his hands.
        âI was getting there,â he pouts, rolling his eyes.
        âYou really werenât,â she teases, which draws a smirk out of him. He likes it when she talks back, sheâs realized.
        Satoru watches with a catlike grin, as she fixes it for him. Her eyes lock with his as she runs her tongue over the smooth paper, before flattening it down to make a perfectly cylindrical joint. His eyes flicker between her lips and her own when she presses it between her lips and leans toward him, waiting for a light.
        He lights it, and she feels a thousand times better as soon as she inhales. Something to calm the nerves a little bit, it helps a lot, and he has money and connections enough to get some good shit.
        Maybe itâs a little too good, actually. Theyâre both on the moon talking about nothing, passing it between each other and laughing at each otherâs jokes. Heâs funny, she thinks, as sheâs looking at him. The nerve of him to be hot and funny. Heâs trying to explain his technique to her, but sheâs lost before he gets half of it out.
        âBet I could take you,â she says, relaxing with her head in her palm, as she sits a little closer to him than she realizes.
        âIn a fight?â He asks, teasing and a little flirtatious.
        She grins. âYeah, in a fight.â
        âBet you couldnât,â he argues.
        Sheâs not one to lose fights, and she tells him about it. The Yakuza pays her good money to fight in underground rings, and they wouldnât hedge their bets on her if she lost. Satoru counters it by telling her that heâs never lost a fightâ maybe for a second or two, but he always comes out on top.
        âReally? Last time I saw you, you didnât end up on top at all,â she teases him, remembering the way she made him beg to fuck her.
        âThat was an ambush,â he says. âYou just caught me off guard. Wonât happen again, trust me.â
        âYeah? Weâll see about that, Satoru. Iâm disappointed you didnât actually knock my IUD loose if youâre that strong.â
        âWe can always try again.âÂ
        Satoru is a fucking flirt, a huge one, and sheâs starting to like it. Maybe itâs a little Stockholm Syndrome, because theyâve been living together for weeks now, but sheâs starting to actually like him. Before, they couldâve fucked again and went their separate ways, and that would be all there is to it.
        But nowâŠ
        Now, she doesnât know. Itâs just so easy to fall into a routine with him, to forget the situation and enjoy hanging out with him, despite the looming threat that he might try to kill her someday if she ever loses control.
       Thereâs chemistry between the two of them, chemistry thatâs growing and changing with every day that they spend together. Sheâs never been one to fall in love or get attached for long, always too ready to move onto the next thing to get caught up in feelings.
        But all of these little moments between them during their time together are adding up, piling on top of each other, until whatever it is between them feels like more. His hand on the small of her back when he passes by her, a gentle touch here and there when she starts to spiral, even a hug one time.
        He says âMorning, beautifulâ when sheâs just rolled out of bed, curls sticking up in every direction and a sour look on her face. Always with a sarcastic drawl and a shit-eating grin on his face.
        She usually just rolls her eyes about it, but maybe she likes it a little. And heâs funnyâ the fucking nerve of him to look like that and be funny. Sheâs never met a man that can make her laugh like he does.
        The way he looks at her nowâ itâs more than fleeting affection. His gaze is lovestruck. She never thought the icy blue color of his eyes could look so warm. She misses him when heâs gone, and he always gives her the biggest grin when he comes back. Mutual attraction has blossomed and thickened. Itâs been weeks of this now, and theyâre unlikely friends.Â
        They give each other shit when neither of them can seem to say something nice, but when she looks at him, her insides feel tight, like she canât breathe. She can tell he feels it, too, by the way that he always wants to be close to her. Heâll make any excuse to sit next to her, to put his arm around the back of the couch when theyâre smoking together, which has become a little bit of a ritual now. It makes it easier to forget their circumstances and just talk, which they somehow end up doing for hours.
        He always says how much he likes her curls, how much he likes the look on her face when she gets a wicked idea, her smart mouth and her attitude. He likes the way she dances, likes the way her body moves when sheâs drunk, and the music is loud.
        She sees the way he looks at her, sees the way he takes care of her when sheâs struggling with the memories that wonât leave her alone. Theyâre coming back thicker now, heavier than they were before. She feels haunted by it all, haunted by the life that sheâs lived in complete ignorance to what she really is.
        More than anything, sheâs haunted by her father. Sukuna, the worst human-turned-curse that has ever existed, at least in Japan. Why did her mother fall for him? For a fucking monster? And where does that leave Sundari?
        She knows herself; she knows that she can be destructive, she can be cruel. Thereâs an ache inside of her that longs for violence, an itch that she used to scratch with cage-fights and beating the living fuck out of men who abused sex workers, in her past life. She knows now that even if her causes were righteous and good, she enjoyed it.
        The blood, the violence, the chance to unleash the demon within herself that she knows is there. Itâs just beneath her skin.
        In a moment of self-collapse, she tells Satoru the truth.
        âI never wanted to be his daughter,â she says, curled in on herself in her vulnerability, knees pressed to her chest. âI do my fucking best to not be destructive like he is, but everyoneâ your higher-ups, whoever the fuck else, theyâll only ever see me for these.â
        She gestures to the thick bands of black ink around her wrists.
        âIâll never be free from people who want to control me for it. I canât even fucking hide them like he can,â she mutters, frustrated and angry. âAnd even if I like you, I canât stay here forever, so what do we do when this is over?â
        âYou could work with me,â Satoru offers quietly from where he sits beside her.
        He doesnât invade her space; he knows that she wouldnât want him to right now. Instead, he sits with her, and he listens. Patiently, quietlyâ he doesnât talk over her, he doesnât give her solutions unless she asks for them. Heâs kind to her, gentle with her when he can tell that she needs it.
        She has no fucking clue what to do with that.
        âAnd everyone we work with will only ever see me as a monster,â she answers, shaking her head.
        âMaybe, but you donât have to prove them right,â he says. âYouâre nothing like him, Sundari. Iâve talked to him, Iâve seen him. Youâre less destructive than you think you are, and you make an effort to be good, to do the right thing. Thatâs what matters, thatâs what makes the two of you so different. He wants violence, you want to control yourself and do the right thing.â
        âDoes it matter? Will anyone other than you ever believe me?â
        She looks at the tattoos and despises them, wishes she could scrub them from her skin. This isnât what sheâs ever wanted to be. It wasnât ever her choice, but the world will treat her like it was.
        âThey will if you prove them wrong,â he says.
        A moment of silence lapses between the two of them, as they sit together in the living room, quiet and ruminating. Sundariâs frustration feels like fire in her veins. Even now, sheâs struggling to contain everything within her. Her body isnât big enough to fit all of this power inside it without an outlet.
        âWhat if we tested it out?â She asks, looking up at him, an idea on the tip of her tongue. âJust a little fight between the two of usâ let me see if I can control it without breaking everything and losing control.â
        Satoruâs lips curve up into a hint of a smile. âIâve been waiting for you to ask that.â
        She realizes that sheâs falling for him in that moment, that all of this forced cohabitation has become something more to her, something that tastes like love on her tongue, even when she canât bring herself to say it.
        Instead, she says, âOkay. Just donât cry about it too much when I win.â
        âHa, I could say the same to you,â he answers, and she knows his words taste like love, too.Â
        Itâs a friendly fight, Satoru reminds himself, as Sundari lunges for him again. Sheâs fastâ faster than he imagined she would be, and sheâs good. Resilient, too. She doesnât wear down easilyâ her cursed energy is still thrumming through the air after half an hour of hand-to-hand combat.
        Her fighting style is unique, foreign to Satoru. She wasnât trained in Japan, that much is clear, based on the way that she moves. The hand signs that she uses when she activates her technique against his are ones heâs never seen before.
        It wears him down to keep up with her unfamiliar movements. If he were anyone else, heâd have lost this fight half an hour ago due to the way she continues to periodically drain his cursed energy.
        But Satoru isnât just anybody. His reserves are infinite, and he can tell that sheâs realizing that, based on the scowl sheâs sporting.
        âCâmon, Sundariâ stop holding back,â he taunts her, after barely dodging one of her well-timed punches. Sheâs strong.
And she looks fucking good with a thin sheen of sweat on her skin, whipping around to dodge when he teleports behind her and aims a blow to the middle of her back. She almost blocks it, but heâs quicker than even her eyes can track. It lands, a punch straight to the chest, which sends her flying backwards into a tree.
        That should be the end of it, he thinks, when she gets back up with a wild, feral smile on her face. A little bit of blood trickles down from her lip, and for some god-forsaken reason, his pants feel a little tighter. She lunges for him again, and again. Itâs a miss, but she manages to put him on the defensive again. He lifts up into the air to avoid a kick, and she drags him back down, which he counters with an elbow.
        âStop fucking running if you think Iâm holding back,â she taunts him in turn, before he sends her flying off out of view for a split second.
        He thinks that surely another hit like that will make her surrender. God, theyâve been at it all morning. His pulse is racingâ heâs never fought anyone as strong as she is. Itâs a fucking rush. The blood in his body doesnât know if it should focus on his brain or his dick. Sundari fights like a warrior, like a goddess.
        She emerges from the tree line with two extra arms extending from her shoulder blades. She rolls them out, unphased at the changes to her body. Thereâs an extra mouth on her exposed stomach with sharp teeth, grinning at him with the same expression as the one on her face.
        His blood is definitely headed to his dick. That is a goddess. A vengeful, wild goddess. Her curls have come undone, fanning out around her beautifully, while she practically glows with cursed energy. Satoru has wanted her for weeks now, heâs wanted her since he first saw her again, but right now? Satoru needs her.
        He needs to see his goddess sprawled out beneath him, hot and sweaty and snapping at him with her sharp teeth, crying out for more as he fucks her. He wants to feel all four of her arms on him, pulling him in closer, he wants the extra mouth to lick him while his tongue is down her throat.
        Sheâs on him before he can blink, and this timeâ he doesnât hold back.
        The blows shared between them are so rapid, neither has time to think. The sounds of skin meeting skin with dull thuds and their heavy, panting breaths are the only noises to be heard. He can barely regenerate his cursed energy at the same speed that she withers it away, and he realizes distantly that he might have never felt as alive before.
        One failed movement, and heâs on top of her. His own goddess is hissing out curses underneath him, struggling against his strength as he pins her down to the dewy, wet grass beneath them.
        âYield,â he demands, voice low and breathless.
        âFuck you,â she spits back, locking her legs around his waist to try and flip him. He doesnât budge, not this time. Thereâs only one thing on his mind.
        âYield, Sundari,â he says again, this time with a coaxing warmth.
        All four of her eyes are wide, pupils dilated to the point that her garnet eyes look black. She still struggles against him, but sheâs slowing down, realizing how close they are. Very close, at that. Satoruâs on top of her with her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, pressed against her at every intimate junction with his fingers fastened around two of her wrists.
        Her other arms have receded back into her, given the position theyâre in and the shift of the mood.
        âI said fuck you,â she repeats herself, quieter this time, as her eyes flit between his own and his lips. âIâm not yielding.â
        âYou sure?â He murmurs, as his nose brushes hers. âYou look like it. You look like you want to.â
That reignites some of her flame, but she pours it into a different approach this time. Always one to move first, she leans up to crash her lips into his. Satoru returns it with even more ferocity, tongue sweeping between her teeth as he presses her down into the grass, groaning against her lips.
        Itâs frantic, feverish, the way that sheâs tugging at his clothes, and heâs tugging at hers. His cock throbs against the confines of his briefs, as heâs yanking her athletic shorts down her legs and moving his attention to her neck. She nearly growls when he sinks his teeth into her skin, sucking a bruise into the side of her neck.
        She meant it when she said she wasnât submitting to him, he realizes, as she flips them over with the practiced ease of a fighter, situating herself on top of him. Her hand slips underneath his shirt, desperate for touch and seeking more, more, more of it.
        âReady to start begging again, Satoru? You did it so well last time,â She purrs, grinning wickedly, as she scrapes her teeth against his collarbone, eager to slip lower.
        âHa, in your fucking dreams,â he says, before slamming her onto her back.
        She gasps, but he knows she can take it. Heâs been fighting with her for an hour and tossed her into more than a few tree trunks, she can handle it. If the wide-eyed look on her face is any indication, she likes it. One hand around her throat, he slips the other down her body and between her thighs to feel her wetness. And god, sheâs soaking.
        Circling her clit with his fingertips, he smiles down at her and knows that he looks just as feral as she does. She writhes underneath him, back arching.
        âYou got me once, baby. Iâll give you that,â he admits breathlessly, slipping two fingers inside to draw out a strangled moan. âBut this time, youâre gonna fucking beg for it. Youâre going to tell me how bad you want me to fuck you, and Iâll think about it if you ask nice enough.â
        âYouâYouâre a fucking dick,â she says, but itâs hard to talk when sheâs moaning. âNot begging, not doing it.â
        âYeah?â
        He knows how she likes it; he remembers her body well. Her pussy sucks in his fingers greedily, as he wraps a hand around her throat and squeezes.
        âYou look so fucking pretty like this,â he murmurs reverently, honestly. âYouâre such a brat too, but youâre gonna take it so good for me, arenât you? Telling me what a fucking dick I am, while youâre this wet for me?â
        âFuck you,â she says, but itâs a whine more than anything.
        Sheâs getting close, he can tell. The adrenaline still pumping through her veins makes it easier to get close without him having to work for it. Heâll edge her time and time again until sheâs a mess, slick and wet and crying for him. He traces the tattoos along her chest with his fingertips when he finally releases her throat, rolling one of her nipples between his fingers. Her walls constrict around his fingers, but he retreats before she can cum.
        One, two, three times. He brings her to the edge until sheâs all but snapping at him, hissing out curses and whines.
        âSay please, Sundari,â he murmurs, low and taunting. âSay please, and Iâll make you cum. Iâll make you cum so hardâ I know you want it, youâre so wet for me.â
        âFuckâ Fuck,â she mewls, rocking her hips against his fingers, as if heâll let her cum. âPleaseâ Please? Please, Satoru,â she finally relents.
        âGood fucking girl,â he praises, leaning down to kiss her, as he finally lets her stumble over the edge. âSo fucking good for me,â he coos against her lips, as she spasms beneath him, whining and humping his fingers through her orgasm.
        The shockwaves of it barely have time to end before heâs slipping his cock into her warmth, hissing out a breath at the way she sucks him in. So wet, and so tight. He canât help himself, canât wait a second for her to adjust to his length, he sets a brutal pace in fucking her.
        âSo fucking good,â he growls against her lips, biting her lower one until he can taste her blood. âThatâs itâ fucking take it, take all of it.â
        He maneuvers her over onto all fours, pressing a hand down to the apex of her spine to force her into a severe arch, as she moans incoherently beneath him. The sound of his hips flush against her ass makes him bite his lip, muscles tensing and flexing involuntarily as he tries to hold back from finishing inside her. Sheâs about to cum, he can tell, but not without permission.
        âBeg for it, tell me how much you fucking want it,â he demands, moving to cover her body with his own, murmuring in her ear. âKnow you want it; know you want me to fill up your pussyâ donât you?â
        âYesâ yesâ please,â she whines, and Satoruâs ego swells to new heights upon seeing this goddess falling apart underneath him.
        âThatâs it, just like thatâ donât stopâ tell me how much you fucking need it,â he rasps against the shell of her ear, tugging her earlobe between his teeth.
        And she doesâ she begs beautifully, knees buckling as she trembles through another orgasm. Satoru chases her down to the ground, slamming himself into her over and over again until his entire body seizes up with pleasure. He bites down hard on her shoulder when he comes, filling her up with every drop of his cum.
        The two of them stay like that for a while to catch their breath, still half-clothed and panting against each other in the crater they just fucked into the earth.
        âStill a dick,â she reminds him, which draws a chuckle out of him.
        âYou yielded, didnât you?â He says arrogantly, kissing the nape of her neck as he pulls off of her.
        âYouâre hearing things,â she says, sitting up to readjust her top. âI never surrendered to you, and I never will. At least, not in a fight.â She winks at him, and he smiles back at her.
        Fuck, heâs pretty sure heâs in love with her.
        Later that night after a shower and some food, Sundari sleeps in Satoruâs bed for the first time. It feels natural, after all theyâve done. They fucked again after thatâ inside, this time, rather than outside in the wet grass. Neither of them broached the topic of feelings, but they both know itâs there. Something intangible but real settling between the two of them.
        After such a long day, she falls asleep almost immediately, only to be plagued by dreams again.
        This one, however, is different from the rest.
        Sheâs standing in her hometown, far from Japan and Satoru and everything else. Back in her old life, where she was The Godslayer, dressed in the trappings of a demigoddess worshiped by her people. This isnât uncommon in her dreams, but she has an unexpected visitor in this one.
        A monk, it seems. His hair is black and long, silky as he moves toward her with a deceptively serene smile on his face. Stitches sit on his forehead, which draws her attention and makes her wary.
        âSundari,â he says. âIâve been waiting a long time to meet you. Gojo Satoru has made it exceedingly difficult to reach you in the past few months.â
        Immediately, sheâs suspicious. Whoever this monk is, she doesnât like the energy he emanates. She doesnât like the look on his faceâ so calm, so unbothered, he must be hiding something.
        âAnd what do you want?â She asks, straight to the point.
        He wouldnât be here if he didnât want something from her. Satoru warned her that the higher-ups of the jujutsu society might not be the only people that are looking for her. This monk strikes familiarity somewhere within her, as if sheâs seen him before but canât remember it for some reason.
        âStill as blunt as ever, I see,â he says, sitting next to her. âI have a proposition for you.â
        âOf course you do.â
        âSukuna has returned, as has your power,â he says. âDo you know why you were sealed?â
        She grits her teeth, unwilling to answer. He knows something that she doesnât, but sheâs not naive enough to be tempted by whatever heâs offering until she knows what he wants in exchange for it.
        âIâll take that as a no,â he says in her silence. âThere are so many mysteries surrounding you, most of which are unknown even to you. Your father, who he is and how you came to be. The seals on your back, an entire life lived that you can only remember bits and pieces of.â
        She thinks of her mother in that moment. Nadja would know, sheâs certain. The monk has piqued her curiosityâ of course she wants to know who she was before her memories disappeared, and of course she wants to know about her father, even if sheâd never admit it aloud.
        If she had to ask anyone, it would be her mom.
        Seemingly reading her mind, the monk laughs. âNadja thinks of you as a child, even after all these years. Sheâd never tell you anything.â
        âAnd Iâm guessing you can,â she says, annoyed at this long-winded speech.
        âCorrect,â he agrees. âI can reveal it all to you, shed light on every shadow in your life. Iâve watched you closely since you were born, Sundari. I even helped to put those seals on your back after you slaughtered that town.â
        Sundariâs eyes grow wide, horrified at the implication.
        âWhat do you want?â She demands again.
        âI want your cooperation in the coming days,â he offers nonchalantly. âSukuna will regain his full power sooner rather than later, and heâll fight alongside me in an⊠event that Iâm planning. You could meet him for yourself, let him tell you about his relationship with Nadja, and I could fill in all of those blank spots that you canât stop obsessing over.âÂ
        âSo, you want to have control over me when you do something big and fucked up in the future,â she says with an eyeroll. âGot it.â
        She seemingly cannot stop running into people that want to control her or collar her. Even Satoru isnât immune to that. As much as she likes to live in the fantasy of their relationship, she knows that his goal at the end of this is to contain her. In that way, heâs not so different to the monk.
        âI want to work with you,â he corrects her. âIn exchange, youâll know everything, including your father. I know youâre not interested now, you think you have other options, so Iâll give you time. When you realize that Iâm the only source for uncovering the mysteries your mother keeps from you, Iâll find you. Until then, Sundari.â
        He presses a hand to her shoulder, a way of saying goodbye, and she wakes with a sharp gasp, bolting upright in the bed.
        Satoru is awake in an instant, eyeing her warily in the darkness.Â
        âNightmare?â He asks groggily.Â
        For a moment, she considers keeping it to herself, just in case. Deep inside, she knows that even if Satoru likes herâ even if he loves herâ his ultimate goal is not so different to the monk. He wants to control her; he wants her freedom. Sheâs given it to him by agreeing to stay here willingly for so long, why should she offer up more of herself to someone who will use her like a pawn?Â
        They all do. Thatâs all she is to them. Whether itâs the monk, or Satoru, or the higher-ups, or her motherâ they want to own her, to contain her. They want her collared and docile, so that she doesnât self-destruct and take the world down with her, like Sukuna.Â
        âWhat do you want out of this?â She asks, defensive and guarded.Â
        Satoru sits up, shaking his head at her. âWhat do you mean?âÂ
        âWhat do you want from this? From me? Whatâs your goal?âÂ
        âTo protect you,â he says. âIâve told you that from the beginningââÂ
        âNoâ you know I donât need protecting. What is it? Is it just control?âÂ
        No one has ever protected Sundari, nor have they ever needed to. Sheâs been on her own, and sheâs been fine that way. If anything, sheâs always been the protector, the savior, the one who helps when things go to shit, and someone needs muscle to deal with it.Â
        âControl?â He asks, huffing out a laugh. âIs that what you think this is?âÂ
        âWhat should I think? Why else would you keep me here?âÂ
        He scoffs. âI donât know what you saw in that dream, but the past month youâve been here, the only thing Iâve done is protect you. The higher-ups want you dead, god knows who else wants you deadâ I keep them away from you,â he says, unwavering. âI just want to keep you safe, to make sure that no one wants to use you for their own gain.âÂ
        âSo that you can use me instead, right? At the end of this? Iâm powerful, so you need to contain me, collar me, make sure I donât fuck you overââÂ
        âSundari,â he says sharply, cutting her off. âDo you think I could control you, even if I wanted to? If you wanted to leave here right now and go be a force of fucking nature, do you think I could stop you?âÂ
        She stares at him, unsure of her answer. Could he?Â
        âYouâre not a pawn to me, you are not something I need to keep under my thumb,â he continues. âYouâre an equal to me,â he admits softly. âIn every way, I see you as an equal, and the only thing Iâve ever wanted is to keep you away from people who wonât see you that way.âÂ
        âWhy?â She murmurs, uncharacteristically soft and fragile.Â
        âI love you,â he says. âIâ I donât know if itâs too soon, orâ fuck, I donât know, but I do. I love you, love the way you laugh, love your bad attitude, love the way you fuss and fight with me. I want to be with youâ I donât want to take your freedom, I want to work alongside you, justâ I want to be near you,â he murmurs.Â
        âYou love me?â She mumbles, leaning closer.Â
        âI love you,â he repeats, placing a hand on her cheek. His eyes scan along her face for any reaction. âThatâs all there is. I donât care what you are, or what other people think you are, I just want to keep you safe.âÂ
        Maybe she can believe him, if only for right now. The monkâs offer is still on the table, still a temptation that sheâll have to grapple with, but this is real. Sheâs never been looked after before like this, sheâs never had anyone feel the need to protect her, to keep her safe. Sheâs always been strongâ when has there ever been the need for it?
        But Satoru is strong, too, and she understands the way he feels. She wants to protect him, too, whatever the cost may be. If anything happened to him, sheâd lose her fucking mind, sheâd destroy everything in her path.Â
        âOkayâ Okay. Iâll work with you,â she murmurs, pressing her forehead to his. A little grin creeps up on her face. âUnder the condition that I want strong opponentsâ I want to fight people that are worth it.âÂ
        âDone,â he says, smiling back at her. âAre you okay?âÂ
        âYeah,â she breathes. âIâ I love you. It might be too soon, butââÂ
        He kisses her before she can say another word, and for the time-being, theyâre happy.Â
Writing © 2024 @septembersums and posted with permission. Sundari Hikmat © 2024 @osunism. Do NOT copy, translate, plagiarize, repost anywhere without permission [reblogging original posts is okay]. This includes my masterlist and fic format as well as feeding my writing to an AI garbage machine. I only upload on Tumblr, AO3, and FFN. Title and footer banners by me. Dividers and support by @cafekitsune.
âïž Member of the @pixelcafe-network.
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk fanfic#jjk x oc#ch: gojo satoru#oc: sundari hikmat#otp: ah! his goddess#ćȘèĄć»»æŠ#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#muse writes#jjk x black oc#commissioned fic#september fic#satoru gojo#gojo satoru#gojo smut#jjk gojo#äșæĄæ#fic: crystalline#series: parallax#fic rec#muse recs#tumblr exclusive#guest writer#i want to do more co-creation collabs with other writers#trading ocs in our writing styles etc#septembersummer
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being extremely flirty headcanons
featuringâŠ! tetcho suehiro
content:Â no manga spoilers, just mentions of the 5th hunting dog without their name, fluff
navigation | bsd masterlist
constantly flirting with tetcho⊠i hate to say it, but youâd probably regret it. this man will usually not take the hint and misunderstands what youâre trying to say, or takes it too seriously đ
âyou scraped your knees because you fell for me?â tetcho repeated. he gently grabbed your wrist, âletâs get that cleaned up, then.â
cue you both being annoyed, but also in awe of how kind he was. then it hits you that heâs truly an idiot because you were in uniform, and your pants werenât messed up at all.
he sincerely wants to understand what you say most of the time, so heâll go to someone else thatâs around. a personal hc, but he often goes to jouno
jouno, being who he is, tells tetcho to figure it out himself. itâs for his entertainment, really. he gets to watch tetcho try to figure it out and you agonize over the fact that he canât understand that youâre hitting on him
the fact that he does this amuses teruko greatly, as well as fukuchi but not as much. our final hunting dog? well, they sort of pity you because how tetcho doesnât understand
if youâre the type to flirt more physically, tetcho literally lets you because he just thinks youâre like that⊠and it also doesnât really bother him
if you let your fingers linger on his arms longer or sit closer to him than anyone else would, heâd assume that you liked physical touch with anyone more than anything
âso,â you gripped tetchoâs arm with your hands, fingers trailing down his well-defined biceps, âwant to go out for lunch? i know a place youâd love.â
you guys had just finished training, the smell of sweat lingering inside of the room. you wanted to grab the opportunity to ask tetcho before you guys headed for the showers.
âi donât mind,â he replied. he patted your head, âiâll be sure to ask the others too for you.â
he was about to walk away when you grabbed his arm. you told tetcho that you wanted it to just be the two of you, but he thought that if you knew a place with good food, you might as well just bring everyone along to try.
âjust- yeah, whatever,â you exhaled to prevent yourself from getting even more frustrated. âtell me if theyâre coming when you finish.â
you knew it was coming, but all the frustration finally came to light one day. even if it was for a day, you laid off in trying to flirt with tetcho. he took notice and immediately knew something was wrong
heâd ask anyone nearby if they noticed that you were off today, but they would say they didnât. after all, you were only acting differently around tetcho
you should hope that tetcho doesnât go ask teruko for help in this situation. i can imagine her taking advantage of it and setting him up to turn things around between the two of you. itâs fun for her to mess with people, so donât be surprised
youâre walking the halls of military headquarters when you suddenly sense an incoming presence. before you could even grip the handle of your blade, a hand holds your wrist back. long, slim fingers slide down slightly, loosening its grip against you.
turning around, you are met with tetcho. his hat was off, so his hair appeared a bit more scattered than it usually did. you liked it like that, nothing resting on top of his head.
âtetcho?â you asked. âwhatâs wro-â
youâre taken aback by his sudden movement. tetcho let your wrist go before he caged you between his body and the wall. you could only look between his arms in shock.
âa-am i dreaming?â
âif you want to confess your love for me, just say it normally. thereâs no shame in that,â you joke. although youâve definitely thought of this scenario before, you werenât expecting it now.
his head, which was facing down, goes up to face you. he looks at you with eyes so serious that your heart skips a beat. you didnât know what he would say, and a small part of you feared that it wouldnât be good.
âwhatâs wrong with you?â tetcho asked.
you could only look at him confused, âwhatâs wrong with me? whatâs wrong with you? grabbing my wrist like that- then thereâs this⊠youâre the one acting odder than usual.â
âiâm acting odd? iâm just asking you,â he retorted, equally confused. you could tell by the innocent tilt of his head.
âthen why did you have to ask in such a dramatic wayâŠ?â
âoh, teruko-san told me to do this. she said it was the best way to get you to answer. i wonât let you go until you do, y/n-san.â
âand what will you do if i donât answer?â you gave him attitude. âwhat, youâll kiss me?â
he inched closer to you, âif thatâs what it takes, yes.â
in the end, both of you happen to get what you want đ€
note: iâm not sure what format you wanted this in, so i decided to do headcanons and drabbles đđ» but thank you sm for requesting! i love tetcho and think we need more work about him. request is here
reblogs are appreciated <3
#bsd x reader#bungo stray dogs x reader#bungou stray dogs x reader#tecchou x reader#tetcho x reader#tetchou x reader#bsd tecchou#suehiro tecchou#bungou sd#bungo stray dogs#bungou stray dogs#bsd headcanons#bungo stray dogs headcanons#bsd fluff#aqwriting
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During the war both Soundwave and Rodimus are sent to negotiate with another planet for supplies. While there they get to spend time together.
When Rodimus comes back. He has trouble sleeping because he got so used to sleeping with Soundwave.
His spark also feels weird. He's been throwing up in the morning and craving different fuel.
- Soundwave is the first to break actually. He sees Rodimus dancing with the natives of the planet and gets full view of his smile and the sway of his hips and the sound of his laughter and he canât help but crave him.
- for Rodimus it was Soundwaves presence that made him feel safe and at home. Rodimus didnât give a second thought to letting Soundwave curl an arm around his waist or pull him in to hold him from behind to dance or simply stand together.
- for the both of them something had clicked a long time ago but now on another planet they can act upon it.
- for Soundwave it was seeing Rodimus dance and smile
- for Rodimus its feeling Soundwave touch along his frame and feeling his em field
- they both have a long series of interfacing that makes them stay much longer than necessary
- the two accidentally spark bond but canât find it in them to regret it
- they stay an extra few days and plan how they can meet and use their positions to see each other often
- it wouldnât be as hard as one thinks since they both know cross faction conjunx and relationships are a dime a dozen
- they leave the planet with heavy sparks and Rodimus feeling worse for wear because he just really canât stand the thought of not being by Soundwave.
- he hides it as much as he can and once back on the planet heâs gifted a scented blanket from soundwave with a note he manages to decipher.
- they meet a few weeks later and Soundwave notes Rodimus turning down engenx to which Rodimus tells him his tanks have been sensitive but not to worry
- soundwave worries anyway
Which ends up justified because a month later Rodimus rejects meeting up with him
Soundwave does not take that well and goes to Rodimus himself sneaking into his hab and scanning the mech who was curled up asleep with a trash bucket next to his helm on the floor and an odd mix of energon that looks like a nightmare.
- soundwave stays beside Rodimus until morning where said mech tries to ask what heâs doing here but purges instead.
- soundwave scans him finding nothing and he knows thats wrong so he has Rodimus lay on his back to check his spark when heâs stopped.
âDonât,â Rodimus sounds weak and it worries Soundwave but right now he needs to find out whats wrong with his conjunx who wonât let him.
âHelp: refused. Why.â
âI know whats wrongâŠâ
Rodimus wonât look him in the optic and Soundwave doesnât like this.
If Rodimus is dying he will find a way to stop it.
He wonât lose his conjunx.
He refuses.
âSecrets: none.â
And heâs happy Rodimus feels guilt over it, if itâll allow him to help heal his spark so be it.
He thinks heâs ready to handle whatever it is Rodimus throws his way but he is not.
âIâm sparked,â and to add salt to the sudden gaping wound, he opens his chamber to show the tiny wisp within it. The energy line thats connected to his tanks for their sparkling to travel into and develop.
Rodimusâs frame is currently worked and tired because its using energy to cultivate and secure their sparkling.
âŠa sparkling.
Rodimus is growing and housing a sparklingâŠ
His sparklingâŠ
Rodimus was not prepared for Soundwave to sit there and short circuit but he was glad the mech was on the berth where he could lay him down instead of standing up where he could fall.
Rodimus figures he took the news well since he didnâtâŠoh no.. nevermind.
âAt least you didnât hit your helm hard on the pillow,â Rodimus soothes as Soundwaves clings a servo to his tanks that havenât grown yet, âyou did pretty good. I just cried a lot.â
âCease: patronizing.â
Soundwave was not expecting Rodimus to get an attitude and walk away and he was definitely not expecting the mech to get emotional.
ââŠyears: will be long for this carrying,â he vented.
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Random Hashira Post #6
Massive shoutout to the big brain, @grungeeuvu for this idea! All credit goes to him/her/them/other!
Thisâll be set in the Kimetsu Academy world to make my and everybody elseâs lives so much easier!
Sleepover with the Hashira
Tokito Muichiro
A sleepover? Please tell him that he got everythingâ ⊠All his bags are back at his house
Muichiro is probably asleep almost instantly. The Hashira can wake him up but heâs sleeping so peacefully
Muichiro is the type to wear a hoodie with his PJs. Keeps him warm and is comfortable
Muichiro needs to be reminded by Shinobu regularly on how to play the games Mitsuri and Kyojuro set up
Oh, wait. Did Muichiro do his maths homework?
Iguro Obanai
Never had a sleepover in his life so heâs a bit nervous. Especially that itâs being hosted at Mitsuriâs house
Obanai packed a lot of stuff and has to cram his bags in the corner to make space
Of course, Obanai brought Kaburamaru to join in. Gyomei has to fault Obanai for cheating when Kaburamaru presses a button to increase his money in Monopoly
Obanai is actually pretty good at the sleepover games provided. Not the winner but definitely up there
Please donât let him touch a stove. Heâll burn down the whole kitchen, just let him serve the snacks
Rengoku Kyojuro
Kyojuro loves sleepovers, just like Mitsuri
Kyojuro is totally the type to sleep for days straight so he can stay awake as long as possible for the sleepover
He takes pictures with the Hashira at random times to remember this exciting night and all of the memories tagging along
Kyojuro absolutely was the one who brought a number of the non-provided games the Hashira play
Kyojuro is also the type to let his fellow Hashira win in any activity. Itâs not about victory, itâs about having fun!
Shinazugawa Sanemi
Move aside. Sanemi is also doing all the âcursed gamesâ like Bloody Mary and walks out annoyed
Sanemi is one of the two chefs of the Hashira. He makes them all kinds of food for the night then pancakes for the morning
His sleeping bag may or may not be a gift from Genya
Like Kyojuro and Obanai, Sanemiâs quite a night owl so he stays up a bit longer than most of the Hashira
Sanemi is very competitive in the games to the point he gets into arguments
Kocho Shinobu
She knows sleepovers well. Thanks to all of her sisters and her ladies in her home
Shinobu regularly corrects the Hashira on things they do wrong with her smart-assey ways. âShinazugawa, you put your sleeping bag down wrong. Tokito, youâre not suppose to do that in Twisterâ
Talks a lot to either Mitsuri or Giyuu about random stuff going on in her life. She doesnât care if theyâre listening or not
Shinobu, like she usually does, enjoys messing with her fellow Hashira by smacking controllers out of their hands
Shinobu is babysitting Muichiro for most of the night and keeping her eyes on him so he wonât wonder off
Himejima Gyomei
Keeps track of the time a lot. Not so he can go to sleep or whatever, but so everybody can know when they ask
Gyomei views sleepovers as a bonding exercise so he was one of the first at Mitsuriâs place. He trusts in Mitsuriâs ability to make the night fun
Gyomei is always the one to take charge(even if he isnât the host) so he helps move all of the Hashiraâs stuff to a safer place
Gyomei is ballsy, heâll do any dare with no hesitation. Itâs not that embarrassing to him since itâs not that important
When it gets too chaotic, he just chants prays under his breath to give everybody here luck to handle the mess
Uzui Tengen
The chaos bringer right here. He has brought along a bag full of dynamite and a DJ set to wake up the neighbours with loud dubstep
Tengen does whatever he wants. Heâll start boxing matches with his fellow to make the night more interesting. Heâs a wildcard
Tengen does calm down after having some of the nice non-alcoholic drinks Mitsuri made and getting comfortable on his sleeping bag
But always prepare for a prank. Heâll set them up and start a mini war with Iguro or Shinazugawa
Tengenâs sleeping bag was made by his wives so he values it intently. Nobody can use it but him!
Kanroji Mitsuri
So excited, she can barely keep herself from expressing it. A sleepover with her best friends! This is a dream come true!
Mitsuri overworked herself to prepare for the Hashira coming over. Cleaned her house to a extreme, over-prepared snacks/drinks and organised her room to make enough space. She wants this night to be perfect
Mitsuri is the one who starts the hour-long pillow fight and nearly wins with how hard she swings
You can find her braiding Shinobu or Kyojuroâs hair throughout the night as it calms down
Mitsuri doesnât want to fall asleep, she wants this to last forever but she does end up conking out a little later after Muichiro
Tomioka Giyuu
Nothing changes with Giyuu. He is there because he has to be but that doesnât mean he doesnât think the sleepover is fun
Giyuu is the type to double check on his worklife whilst at the sleepover so suspect to see him to be looking over his class notes
He joins in on the games so little and keeps himself cuddled in his sleeping bag, most of the time, that it annoys some of the Hashira
Giyuu is also totally the type to listen to music on his headphones when waiting for Mitsuriâs word
Giyuu is surprisingly competitive, not as bad as Sanemi, but heâll actually work to try win
Help. Iâm ruining out of good Hashira pictures
#kimetsu no yaiba#demon slayer#anime and manga#kny hashira#kny imagines#headcanons#obanai iguro#iguro obanai#kanroji mitsuri#mitsuri kanroji#himejima gyomei#gyomei himejima#tomioka giyuu#giyuu tomioka#kocho shinobu#shinobu kocho#tokito muichiro#muichiro tokito#shinazugawa sanemi#sanemi shinazugawa#uzui tengen#tengen uzui#rengoku kyojuro#kyojuro rengoku
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Chess Masters
Summary: No One Knows AU Part 4, Tucker and Sam are tired of looking for answers in regards to what's going on with Danny.
Vlad is happy to provide them.
...
Tucker is very ready to understand whatâs going on with Danny, and it doesnât seem like itâs going to happen anytime soon.
He knows heâs not alone in this opinionâ he and Sam talk about it all the time. That for all theyâve learned, thereâs clearly something Dannyâs not telling them. Something they need to know if theyâre going to help him.
In all fairness, thatâs not new. Theyâve both suspected Dannyâs been keeping something from them for a while now. Whatâs new, actually, is the fact that whatever secret he has is hurting him.
Before, heâd seemed fine. Maybe a little stressed, but thatâs Danny for you. And there were a couple times Tucker had even thought that Danny had seemed almost⊠happier? No, wrong word. Satisfied? Proud of himself? Something.
All of that something is gone now. And Tucker needs Danny to tell him whatâs going on, so they can talk about it. So he can help.
âItâs justâŠâ Tucker gestures wildly with his hands. âYou know?â
âYeah, I do,â Sam says, turning to face him from where sheâs sprawled herself out on his bed. âYou know I do.â
Theyâve gathered at his house to have something like a war meeting in regards to Danny, just after school when Dannyâs special permission to come over hasnât activated yet. Tucker feels a little guilty using Dannyâs grounding as an advantage against him, but heâs not sure he can take this much longer. He has to do something.
âI donât know what else to try,â he says to Sam, rubbing his arms under his sleeves. The room is weirdly cold. âI straight up told him to stop lying to me, and he just goes, âNo.â Like, what am I supposed to do with that Sam? Obviously asking him directly is off the table. Am I supposed to spy on him?â
âMaybe,â Sam says with a shrug, looking way more serious than she should.
âI was kidding, Sam,â Tucker says with a sigh. âIâm not going to invade his privacy like that.â
âHeâs not telling us anything,â Sam snaps, glaring at Tucker. âHeâs not giving us a ton of other options.â
Tucker taps absentmindedly on his PDA screen. âHeâs allowed to have secrets, Sam,â he says quietly. âThatâs not the part Iâm worried about.â
âThatâs not the part youâre worried about?â Sam asks, turning to him in bafflement. âTucker, we donât do secrets between us. Or we didnât used to. And now suddenly heâs acting weird and not telling us things and clearly trying to handle things he shouldnât on his own. He wouldnât tell us when he got kidnapped, Tucker.â
Tucker sighs. She has a point there. There has to be a point when keeping the secret is more harmful than telling it, whatever it is. And theyâve clearly reached that point, and Danny still isnât telling them. Still, he doesnât want to force Danny to do something he doesnât want to. Especially not now, after heâs quite literally just been kidnapped.
âWell maybe⊠maybe he doesnât have to tell us,â Tucker says. âMaybe we can just ask if heâs talking to someone.â
âUh, no,â Sam says, and Tucker glanced over at her in surprise.
âHuh?â
âBullshit. Iâm tired of him hiding things from me. He doesnât do that. And he needs help, and I want to help him. I want to prove to him that I can.â
Tucker looks down at his PDA and doesnât say anything. He opens a game he can tap at mindlessly while they talk.
âCome on, you do too,â Sam says, giving him a look. âI know you do.â
Tucker nods. âYeah,â he agrees, though he doesnât say that heâs pretty sure thereâs a difference between wanting to help and actually being helpful.
âGreat,â Sam says. âSo youâre gonna help me then, right?â
Tucker looks up at Sam. It would have been easy to miss the worry and fear underneath her grim determination if he wasnât looking for it.
He nods. âOkay,â he says quietly. âBut if he catches us we stop.â
Sam rolls her eyes. âWell yeah.â
Tucker sighs. âHow do you want to start?â
âŠ
Apparently, despite not really wanting to do this, Tucker is the one whoâs going to bear the brunt of the responsibility, because the first thing they notice in the classes they share is that Danny has a habit of asking to go to the bathroom at seemingly random times and then not actually going to the bathroom.
Sam canât follow Danny into the boys bathroom too many times without looking suspicious, meaning thatâs going to leave this up to Tucker.
So he ignores the guilt pinching his chest, and asks to follow Danny next time, after he leaves the room.
He doesnât actually get a chance to try and find Danny, though. What he does find is Invis-o-bill chasing down a ghost through the hallwayâ a weird green octopus-looking ghost, that just so happens to be coming right for him.
Tucker yelps and tries to duck, and he hears Invis-o-bill give some kind of surprised cry a second later too. He opens his eyes, not sure what thatâs about, and sees Invis-o-bill leap onto the ghost and go intangible, just in time for them to both pass harmlessly through Tucker.
Tucker shivers, likely an aftereffect to having two ghosts leap right through you, then turns after him just in time to see them vanish through the other wall. He blinks after them for a second just before the ghost alarm goes off, meaning thereâs no way heâs finding Danny in this mess.
People start pouring out into the hallway a second later, and start making their way out the doors and towards the football stadium. Tucker starts looking for Danny once theyâre there, but the only person he manages to find is Sam. Or more accurately, Sam finds him, by grabbing his shoulder from behind and spinning him around. Tucker yelps, calming down when he sees itâs just her.
âDid you find Danny?â she asks.
Tucker presses a hand to his chest, shaking his head as he takes (slightly exaggerated) deep breaths. âI donât see him here either,â he manages after a second.
âMe either,â Sam says, crossing her arms in annoyance and obvious worry she wonât be admitting to. âWhere the hell did he go?â
âIâm sure heâll turn up,â Tucker says. âOut of all of us, Dannyâs probably the most adept at ghost fighting. He taught you how to use that, remember?â He gestures at the wrist ray thatâs now pretty constantly strapped to Samâs wrist.
Sam nods, even as she starts fidgeting with the strap, the way sheâs started to do when sheâs nervous. Tuckerâs pretty sure she thinks he hasnât noticed.
Danny does turn up, though itâs after the ghost is gone. He shows up panting at the edge of the field, and tells Lancer he got caught in the bathroom with the ghost and was too scared to leave until the ghost kid showed up and took care of him.
That does not calm Samâs fidgeting in the slightest.
âInvis-o-bill caught you? Did he hurt you?â she asks, grabbing Dannyâs arms and looking him over, probably for injuries.
âNo, Iâm fine, Sam,â Danny says, pulling back and looking away. âHe was only interested in the ghost. He didnât seem to notice I was there.â
Sam breathes out a sigh of relief and pulls Danny back towards her and into a hug. âThank god,â she says, and Danny hesitantly wraps his arms around her. Tucker breathes his own sigh of relief, albeit an internal one. Danny must have been in the bathroom after all, then, and Invis-o-bill must have chased the ghost away just before he showed up.
Tucker still isnât sure where he stands on the ghost and all of his conflicting actions, but he was there when Sam almost died and he didnât help. Whether there was something else going on or not, Danny being alone with Invis-o-bill right now sounds like about the least helpful thing he could imagine.
A second later Mr. Lancer announces they all need to head back inside, and they all start making their way back over towards the school. But as they start moving, Danny jerks away from them suddenly.
Tucker turns to him in surprise. âDanny?â
âSorry,â Danny says. âUh, gotta say, something. To Jazz.â He points at the Jazz in question, who seems to already be starting over for them.
Danny moves away from them fairly quickly, but just before heâs out of earshot Tucker catches what sounds like âconfusingâ and âPlasma.â
He shakes it off and turns back to Sam, who looks very unsatisfied with the situation, and gives Tucker a look of obvious irritation, though Tucker doubts itâs really directed at him.
Yeah, that could have gone better. At least Dannyâs okay.
âŠ
They discover in the following days that Danny seems to have a real knack for asking to leave the classroom right before a ghost attack.
Tucker isnât sure how he and Sam never noticed it before. Itâs near constant. Danny leaves, Tucker tries to follow him, doesnât find him, and then the ghost alarm goes off. And then, usually, Invis-o-bill shows up, which doesnât help Samâs nerves or anger about the whole situation. Really, the only times that chain of events doesnât seem to happen is when a ghost shows up in the middle of the hallway in between classes, but Danny still finds a way to vanish then too.
Granted, Danny has always been hard to find during ghost attacks, but Tucker had always assumed it had something to do with him knowing his way around the business thanks to his parents, and knowing good places to hide or ways to react. But this is too⊠consistent, to be a coincidence. Itâs becoming both suspicious and annoying.
Honestly, if heâs going to have to feel guilty about spying on his best friend, could Danny at least be a little easier to spy on?
Theyâre meeting to talk about it without Danny at Samâs house this time, and Tuckerâs trying not to feel guilty about that, either.
Sam is sitting on her bed, wrapped under a blanket and fidgeting with the strap on her wrist ray. Tucker is sitting at her desk in her swivel chair, and he almost wants to ask for a spare blanket. Itâs unusually cold in the room.
âSo clearly something more than we thought is going on,â Sam says.
âYeah,â Tucker says, trying to pretend the squirming in his chest is just worry for Danny.
Which, well, yeah. It is that too. Danny may not be getting hurt as far as they know, but having more thatâs going on that they donât know anything about sure isnât helping.
âIâm not sure what else we can do,â Tucker says, leaning back in the chair. âTalking to him isnât working, and spying on him apparently just brings more questions.â
âI donât know,â Sam says, doing a really bad job at keeping the worry out of her voice. âMaybe we could ask his parents? Or Jazz?â
âNo,â Tucker says immediately. âDannyâs gonna find out.â His parents and Jazz are way too likely to tell Danny if he and Sam ask them questions about him. Especially Jazz.
Sam sighs. âYeah,â she admits. âYouâre probably right. But then what are we going to do?â
Tucker doesnât say anything, and instead the two of them look at each other. Itâs obvious on Samâs face that she feels as lost as he does.
Finally, Tucker sighs, turning to sit backwards on the chair so he can face Sam more directly. âMaybe we just have to wait until something changes.â
Sam immediately gives him a look of distaste. âI donât want to do that. Heâs clearly hurting about something, and that murderous asshole Invis-o-bill seems like he runs into him all the time for some reason, I donât want to just leave him to deal with all of that on his own.â
âI donât either, but weâre kind of out options here, Sam,â Tucker says.
âWell,â says a sudden deep voice, and Tucker jerks around, but doesnât see anything. âLetâs see if we canât change that a bit.â
And before Tucker can figure out what the fuck that was, everything goes dark.
âŠ
âTucker, seriously,â a voice hisses in his ear. âWake up.â
Tucker shifts with a groan, then shakes his head a couple times, trying to get rid of the fogginess in it. âSam?â he asks. âIs that you?â
âBe quiet,â Sam whispers. âI think heâs right outside the door.â
Tucker opens his eyes, not quite sure why heâs expecting a headache, but surprised when he doesnât have one. They seem to be in a large warehouse of sorts, clearly abandoned with a high ceiling and scattered debris, mostly cardboard and screws. Thereâs a couple flickering lights up by the ceiling, but that doesnât exactly make it easy to see.
Tucker blinks a couple times, then processes Samâs last statement and turns to her uneasily. âHe?â
âOh excellent,â comes a familiar voice, and then out of nowhere, something appears in the room, almost as if it phased through the wall.
Instantly, Sam leaps to her feet and gets in front of Tucker, pointing her wrist ray at the figure. The figure laughs.
âOh, thatâs adorable,â it says. âYou have a childâs toy of a ghost weapon. Go ahead, give me your best shot.â
Sam doesnât waste any time, shooting a green beam of energy at the figure, only for the figure to effortlessly pull up a pink glowing shield that absorbs the wrist rayâs attack like itâs not even there.
Ghost. This is a ghost.
Tucker peeks his head around Sam just enough to get a good look. The figure is wearing a long white cape lined in red, along with pale blue skin and red eyes, and hair that looks like two horns poking up from his head.
Sam catches him looking and pushes him back behind her with her free arm, the one lacking the wrist ray. âTucker, stay back,â she says, despite her voice shaking in obvious fear.
The ghost laughs. âOh child, please,â he says. âDonât embarrass yourself.â
Tucker pushes himself to his feet and gently grabs Samâs arm, mostly in an attempt to reassure her he has her back, though that doesnât seem like itâll help much in this situation.
But even still, Sam just pushes him further behind her and holds out her arm with the wrist ray again, though they both know itâs not going to do anything.
The ghost sighs. âOh, this is getting tiresome,â he says, and before either of them can say anything back, he shoots a beam of energy towards Sam. Sam cries out in pain as sheâs knocked back into Tucker, and they both land hard on the ground.
âSam!â Tucker says, leaning around where sheâs landed on top of him to check on her. âAre you okay?â
âWell if she is, she sure wonât be after this,â the ghost says with a grin, and flies down and scoops up Sam, who gives a surprised cry, starting to struggle in his grip. The ghost keeps an effortless hold on her, then flies up to the ceiling far above them and drops her.
Sam screams, and Tucker runs forward, trying to position himself right under her.
The next second, however, a door bangs open, and Tucker jerks around to see what looks like an old man rush towards Sam, and get underneath her just in time to catch her and set her down.
âAre you alright?â he asks her, and Sam gapes at him.
âSam!â Tucker cries, and runs forward the few feet it takes to throw his arms around her. Sam hugs him back, and Tucker can feel her shaking in his grip.
âNow as for you,â the stranger says, and he points something up at the ceiling. It lets off some kind of energy that sucks the ghost into it, while the ghost shouts a loud âNoooo!â thatâs a little overdramatic in Tuckerâs opinion.
As soon as the ghost is inside the thing, the man puts a lid on top ofâ is that a thermos?
The man turns to face them before Tucker can really get a good look. âAre you alright, children?â he asks, moving towards them with a look of concern on his face.
âWhat? No. Fine. Who are you?â Sam snaps, moving in front of Tucker and holding her wrist ray out again.
âIâm just here to help,â the man says, holding his hands up. âI promise.â
Sam looks uncertainly at him for a couple seconds, but itâs kind of hard to argue with that when he just saved her life and is making no sudden moves towards them.
Finally, Sam lowers the wrist ray. âWho are you?â she asks again.
âAnd uh, if I can ask a follow up question, what the heck was all of that?â Tucker asks, gesturing up to where the ghost was just a couple of seconds ago.
âIâm sure you have a million questions,â the man says. âAnd I can explain, but we might want to get out of here first. I have important things to tell you.â
Tucker exchanges a glance with Sam. He isnât exactly in the habit of following strange men who randomly show up and ask him to come with them. Then again, this one did just rescue them from a murderous ghost.
âThis secondary location better not be your house,â Sam says dangerously.
âOf course not,â the man says, waving his hand. âI live in Wisconsin, that would be quite a drive.â
âWh- you live in Wisconsin?â Tucker asks in bafflement as they all start for the door of the warehouse. âOkay, seriously, who are you and why are you here?â
âYes, I suppose introductions are in order,â the man says. He opens the door to the warehouse, and they all step out into what looks like thick dark woods, with limited visibility in the moonlight. Itâs clearly very late. Thereâs a very fancy car sitting a bit in front of them on an old dirt road, that the man starts walking towards.
âIâm not sure if youâve heard of me or not, but I am an old college friend of Maddie and Jack Fenton,â the man says as he moves towards the car. âMy name is Vlad Masters.â
Both of them stare at him blankly, and Vlad sighs.
âNo, I suppose Daniel wouldnât have mentioned me, would he? Did he ever mention a college reunion?â
âUh, maybe?â Tucker says, glancing at Sam to find her shrugging. âI think I remember something like that once, maybe a couple months ago?â
âThat sounds right,â Vlad says with a nod. âThat was held at my castle in Wisconsin, and thatâs when I first started suspecting something was going on.â
âSomething?â Sam asks hesitantly.
âWith Daniel,â Vlad says, and Tuckerâs blood runs cold.
âWith Danny?â Sam asks, sounding just as scared as heâs suddenly feeling. âIs he okay? Do you know whatâs happening to him?â
Vlad nods. âUnfortunately, yes, though itâs not going to be easy to hear.â
Tucker looks at Sam in a panic. Just how much trouble is Danny in?
They reach the car, and Vlad pulls the door open. Tucker climbs in the back seat and Sam goes along with him, which heâs glad for. He doesnât really want her out of armâs reach just yet.
Vlad climbs into the front seat and starts the car, then sets the strange thermos thing on the middle console and turns to face them. âAlright, Iâll take you both to the police station in just a second, but I think some explanations are in order first.â
âYes please,â Tucker says, very ready to know whatâs going on.
âWell, first of all,â Vlad says. He gestures down at the thermos. âI think you should know that the ghost I just fought was working for someone, who Iâm sure youâve heard of. Another ghost named Danny Phantom.â
Tucker looks at Sam in confusion. âDo you know who that is?â
Sam shakes her head.
âReally?â Vlad asks, sounding surprised. âHe seems to show up around here pretty often, from what Iâve heard. Claims to be some kind of ghost fighting superhero?â
âWait,â Sam says, her voice dropping into obvious anger. âAre you talking about Invis-o-bill?â
Vlad coughs a couple of times, seeming surprised and, if Tucker didnât know any better, heâd say heâs trying to muffle laughter.
A second later, however, he draws himself back up, seeming very serious. âThatâs not the name heâs told me, but I suppose that's what people here call him,â he says. âYes, that is who Iâm referring to.â
Sam gives a frustrated scream and buries her hands in her hair. âGreat, now that asshole is trying to get other people to kill for him!â
âOther ghosts,â Tucker mumbles hesitantly.
âWhatever!â Sam snaps, jerking back upright. âSame thing!â
âIt actually isnât the same thing,â Vlad says, seeming almost sorrowful. âGhosts canât be prosecuted or apprehended the way people are. Heâs trying to get out of this with no consequences to himself. Or worse than that, actually, since heâs sending other ghosts to do it for him.â
âButâ why us?â Sam asks. âWhy come after me and Tucker?â
âYeah, itâs not like weâre super adept in ghost fighting,â Tucker says.
Vlad sighs. âChildren, ghosts are twisted representations of everything they were in life. They haunt places they used to love, and often terrorize people they used to love as well.â
Tucker looks at Sam, hoping she understands what Vladâs saying.
âUh, sorry,â Sam says, turning back to face him. âBut I have no idea what youâre saying. What does that have to do with Invis-o-billâ or, Danny Phantom, whatever. What does that have to do with him hunting us? Actually, on that note, what does any of this have to do with actual Danny?â
Vladâs gaze turns somber. âOh, child,â he says softly. âHavenât you guessed? Daniel is Danny Phantom.â
All the air rushes out of Tuckerâs lungs.
He shakes his head. âNo,â he says. âNo heâ he isnât. Youâre lying.â
Vlad shakes his head. âI wish I was,â he says. âBut I began to suspect this when I saw him at the reunion, and confirmed it just recently. Of course as soon as I realized, I rushed here, and not a moment too soon, as I learned you two were in danger.â
Tucker shakes his head again, not sure what else to do. âNo,â he says again. âDanny wouldnât do that. Heâ youâre wrong.â
âChild,â Vlad says again, shaking his head. âI truly wish I was.â
âBut Dannyâs not a ghost,â Tucker says weakly.
âNot entirely,â Vlad agrees, and Tucker stares at him.
âWhatâ what does that even mean?â he asks.
âWell, this part is going to be a little confusing if you donât understand ghost science as well as I do,â Vlad says. âBut I can show you the lab footage another time.â
âLab footage?â Tucker asks, feeling rather lightheaded.
âDo you remember the ghost portal incident from a couple of months ago?â Vlad asks. He explains that apparently Danny had gone back down after he and Sam had left that day, and turning on the portal had⊠killed him. Sort of.
And now, apparently, heâs a very dangerous ghost.
Vlad doesnât say anything for a second after he finishes explaining, and Tucker doesnât have a clue how to help fill the silence.
âIâll give you a minute while we head back towards Amity Park,â Vlad says finally, and he turns around and puts the car in gear.
Tucker looks over at Sam. Sheâs scratching at her wrist right underneath the strap of the wrist ray, and staring down at the floor of the car.
âSam,â Tucker says weakly, reaching for her. Sam smacks his arm away and goes back to scratching.
Tucker looks away, technically landing his gaze outside of the window, but certainly not processing anything he sees. He feels a little sick.
âŠIt makes sense.
Danny disappearing during every ghost attack, saying Invis-o-bill shows up so often, keeping obvious secrets, refusing to tell them anything thatâs going on.
âHey, you know Iâd never want to hurt you guys, right?â
Tucker squeezes his eyes shut. What is he supposed to make of that now?
It feels like barely any time has passed when Vlad stops the car again. Tucker turns to look out the front window. Theyâre definitely back in Amity Park, and he thinks this is fairly close to the police station, but Vladâs pulled down a side street.
âIâm sorry to have to put so much on you,â Vlad says, turning to face them. âBut it wouldnât be safe for any of us if Daniel finds out I helped you. Youâre going to have to walk from here.â
Tucker bites his lip and nods. Sam doesnât say anything.
âWhen youâve had a little bit of time to process,â Vlad says. âI have an offer for you.â
Tucker swallows. âAn offer?â
Vlad smiles ruefully. âI have a little bit of experience helping people become ghost hunters,â he says. âIf you want to help, well.â He passes something back to Tucker, and Tucker takes it. It looks like a business card with an address and phone number on it, but no name.
âThatâs where Iâll be operating from in Amity Park,â he says. âIâm going to be sticking around until things are solved.â
Tucker doesnât say anything. Then, after a second, he feels Sam grab his arm, and turns to her in surprise.
âThank you,â she says, her voice firm. âWeâll be in touch.â
Tuckerâs eyes widen. âIâm sorry, what?â
âCome on Tucker,â Sam says, opening the door and pulling him out after her. âLetâs go.â
She shuts the door and starts pulling Tucker up the street after her, towards the police station. Vlad starts the car again and drives away.
âWoah, Sam!â Tucker calls, as they reach the edge of the alleyway. âSlow down! We need to talk aboutââ
âTalk about what?â Sam snaps, dropping Tuckerâs arm and whirling around to face him. âWhat is there to talk about, Tucker? Danny tried to kill us.â
âIâ Sam,â Tucker says, panic crawling up his throat. âThere has to be another explanation.â
âYeah, Tucker, there is,â Sam snaps. âWhatever the hell happened with that portal Vlad mentioned turned him into some kind of monster. Thatâs your explanation.â
âBut heâ itâs Danny,â Tucker says weakly.
âYeah, and heâs been acting weird,â Sam says. âWe both agree on that. We couldnât figure out what was wrong, well, this is it. And we need to figure out some sort of way to take the fight back to him before he tries to kill anyone again.â
âI,â Tucker says. He shakes his head, trying to force some sense of clarity back into his thoughts. He feels less sure about everything than he felt earlier today, and he already wasnât sure about anything earlier today.
âIâm not going to hurt Danny,â he whispers.
Sam sets her jaw. âWell,â she says. âIâm not going to let him hurt anyone else.â She raises an eyebrow. âSo are you with me or not?â
Tucker looks up at her. Sheâs still scratching her wrist under the space where the wrist ray sits. At this point, even the skin around it looks red and raw, and Tuckerâs pretty sure part of it is bleeding.
Samâs gaze flicks down to what heâs looking at, and she scoffs. She pulls the strap off and throws the wrist ray at the opposite wall of the alley. Itâs not that far away, so it bounces off the wall without breaking and lands in a patch of grass growing up between the concrete.
Sam turns back to Tucker with a glare. âAre you with me or not?â she snaps.
Her wrist is bleeding. Not badly, but noticeably.
âOkay,â Tucker whispers, and tension rushes out of Samâs shoulders.
She takes a couple steps forward and wraps her arms around Tucker, squeezing him tightly. Tucker hugs her back. Neither of them say anything.
A second later, Sam pulls back, with a shaky broken smile on her face. âLet me do the talking,â she says, with a nod back to the police station around the corner.
âWhat are you going to say?â Tucker manages.
âThat we got kidnapped by a ghost but managed to fight our way out and get away from it.â
Tucker nods, and Sam turns and starts towards the police station, clearly expecting him to follow her.
Tucker casts a glance over at the wrist ray lying on the ground. He walks over, picks it up with shaking hands, and slips it into his pocket.
Then he turns and follows Sam up the alleyway.
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college Nate and Everett please please please :3
LMAO HIII <33
I was just yapping ab this in the notes of one of my other posts but college is when they both have to admit that not even THEY can handle each other. This post will be formatted as a badly written and unedited drabble fic đ„° Mostly from Eve's perspective, so like some of my story for Nate gets lost here but I'll probably post about that at some point.
(Content Warning for Mentions of Drug Use) (It's just weed, Nate has a bad experience and talks about some of the symptoms that are overwhelming him.)
It didn't surprise anyone when Everett and Nate end up going to college togetherâ No way Nate was going to let his best friend NOT go to college, it was important. Them going to the same school would just make it easier for Nate to keep an eye on him.
They weren't expecting it to be so much different.
Nate is busy more these days. Everett sees him sometimes, hunched over his desk as he falls asleep. He hears him leave before sunrise, not bothering to waveâ He won't wave back anyway.
It's embarrassing, the way he misses the way Nate used to look after him. Things as simple as waking HIMSELF up instead of waking to Nate shaking his shoulder feels bitter.
And then the grades start coming back.
He hides themâ Obviously. He can't admit to Nate that he's failing, can't admit that he's probably going to get expelled by the end of the year. It would be one thing if he was just slacking. Had he been failing due to just not doing the work, maybe it would've FELT less like failure. But this? To genuinely be trying and just not being good enough? That hurt.
He makes the decision to drop out within maybe four months of startingâ It's probably longer than anyone else thought he would last. He swears he can hear Shiloh's god awful passive remarks all the way in the dean's office.
"What are you doing?"
"...packing."
This... this is probably his fault too, huh? He could've warned told him. Could've torn Nate away from his notes and books long enough to say somethingâ ANYTHING. Maybe, if he'd done that, there could've been a proper goodbye.
But like we said, Everett isn't smart.
"Please just stop yelling-"
"What is wrong with you?! All the work you did- Hell, all the work I did!"
He argues back, of courseâ He's still himself. He yells. He rants about how he'd never wanted to go here in the first place, about how if Nate really cared he would've noticed how much he was trying, really trying.
When Everett storms out, he tries not to think about the fact that his entire world just collapsed underneath him. He calls his mom, convinces her that Nate is this awful monster who only cares about himself. She defends him, to his bitternes, because how couldn't she?
Everybody loved Nate.
When he goes back to the dorm that night to get his things, Nate isn't there.
He'll pretend that doesn't upset him either.
It's almost six months later when his phone rings.
'Unknown Caller' my ass, as if he could ever fucking forget that one. It's practically engraved in his brain: One of two numbers he ever bothered to memorize. He tells himself that unless Nate is on the line to APOLOGISE, he's hanging up. He doesn't quite believe himself anymore.
"What the fuck are you rambling about?"
"I can't- They said it would help but- Shit, I can't breathe right-"
Now, whatever you were thinking, Everett Gray has a backbone. He does not tell his friends that he just remembered something he had to do for his mom. He does not leave the party in a rush he struggles to keep under control. He does not sneak back onto that hell of a college campus and into Nate's dorm. He does not acknowledge the fact that his stomach is in knots. He does not spend that night sitting at Nate's side, letting him lay his head in his lap and reminding him that no, the room is not spinning. You're safe.
Because why would he do that?
Nate is... less than pleased when he wakes up. It's Saturday, he has no excuse to immediately leave, avoiding the awful awkward conversation that's staring him down right now.
Nate Lawson does not ASK for thingsâ He takes them. He commands any room he's in. He knows how to control people. He does not beg.
And yet...
"I want you to stay."
"We're not good for each other. For anyone, really."
"I could be better."
And maybe that's not what they said. Maybe there was more arguing, more yelling. Maybe someone cries. Maybe they don't speak at all, too awkward to start. (After all, remember who we're talking about.) But they'll understand each other.
They always have.
#This is very messy btw bc I wasn't PLANNING on writing so I didn't do like my process#our life#gb patch games#xoxo droplets#Nate Lawson#Everett Gray#nate x everett
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K'esyo seems a bit confused, or maybe conflicted(?), by what's going on.
yeah! confused mostly, i think. my vague ideas for that au revolved around sun & moon getting cursed so they turned into eclipse. kind of like a steven universe-type fusion or something LOL. here's what i was thinking:
so we have the gods, right? sun and moon and also the rest of the glamrocks & puppet. maybe even baby, not sure, i havent thought about it too deeply. but anyways theyre the gods that rule over the earth, but a loong long time ago there was another god (afton). he was like, the Big Bad and was killing a bunch of humans bc he's a god of chaos or whatever. so the other gods used their powers to force him into a prison of sorts where he was sedated
except, as the years (and we're talking HUNDREDS of years here) go on, he slowly starts to regain consciousness. not strongly by any means, but strong enough. enough that he could use his powers to influence any humans that go close enough to his prison (which is literally just a mountain/volcano).
and who gets close to his prison one day? vanessa. she was just trying to pick some magic flowers that grew specifically on afton's mountain. and so he kind of corrupts her mind and sends her on a task of cursing the gods with some of his own power. cuz what does afton thrive on as a god of chaos? you guessed it, chaos.
and maybe vanessa goes after a few of the glamrocks first (maybe monty and chica or smth). which causes trouble and catches the attention of the other gods (puppet, freddy, roxy). so theyre out here trying to deal with corrupted monty & chica while ALSO trying to keep humans safe PLUS controlling monty and chica's godly domains (the ocean and food/harvest, respectively). and baby in the meantime is like, secretly ("secretly") on afton's side and takes this chance to also wreak havoc idk. point is, a lot is happening and the gods are stretched thin
sun & moon hear about everything, but theyre busy with the cycle of day/night so they cant really do anything to help too much. maybe they get delegated the tasks of helping with other godly domains while the rest of the glamrocks try to get rid of the corruption plaguing monty & chica. and then theyre also dealing with baby so. LOTS of tasks get shuffled around in an attempt to keep humans away from the knowledge that something is wrong (because that would only bring about more chaos)
buuuut womp womp sun & moon were so focused on both the day/night cycle and handling monty & chica's domains (they are tired, their powers have never been used so much before) that they get cursed by vanessa sneaking up on them. she basically fuses them into eclipse bc they are more powerful when their powers are combined like that (making them one of the strongest gods--perfect for doing a little mass murdering).
and moon--realizing what was about to happen as the curse settles into their mind--puts him and sun in a deep slumber in an attempt to circumvent the chaos that would ensue. and weeeellll sure it works, but it means day/night no longer occurs. which is chaotic in itself
so eclipse is the fusion of sun and moon that happened moments before moon took over and put them to sleep. and see, eclipses are rare in this universe. like, once every thousands of years, rare. so it makes sense that he would be a forgotten god, especially since he's technically just sun & moon combined.
and maybe sun and moon arent on the best of terms when they get cursed too. which is why eclipse is such a sporadic being upon being woken up by yn. it's sun and moon fighting for control in their body & they cannot separate bc of the curse either. and then they got afton whispering into their ear to kill people, which is an L.
and our poor, poor yn is caught up in more than they can handle, dealing not only with eclipse and trying to break the curse on him but also all the other gods and vanessa and baby and welp. not a fun time incoming for sure.
#star gazing with shay#central-hub-of-chaos#smfs au#there might be some plot holes and stuff but im just brainstorming here LOL
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hii, I'd like a matchup for percy jackson and one piece please! (I'm using the previous person's request as a template sorry)
Iâm a 5â9 girl, have brown skin, dark brown eyes, and curly/coily, brown hair. I have an athletic/rectangle-type body. I usually wear jorts/cargos and graphic tees when I feel masc. I love to wear crop tops and shorts when I feel more feminine.
im bisexual with a preference for men
im usually an extrovert on most days, especially with people I know, but sometimes I'm more introverted. i like to push myself to be a better version of me. i love adventuring, but I also enjoy relaxing a lot. i have a creative and active mind and I talk a lot. i love listening and debating on topics I enjoy.
i dislike people who are rude just to be rude/rude because they think its cool. people who give backhanded comments or gossip. i hate feeling overwhelmed or overstimulated, or just feeling tired in general.
irrational fear of heights lol. but really, im scared of not having a good future, and everything going wrong after college.
my hobbies are, reading, traveling, sports, writing, games, and baking
i love hugs and quality time with people I love, whether that be going out or just chilling at home.
what i prefer in a partner is someone who will be there for me when I struggle and feel overwhelmed. someone willing to be there for comfort, but also someone who isn't afraid of communicating their own feelings.
i think that's it, thank you!
okay so. ignore that this took even longer than it normally would.
because.
if you mention it, I might genuinely crash out
anyway.
(author's note: credits to gif owners, I do not own them. again, I literally cannot apologize enough, I am so sorry these are taking so long.)
It's shocking news. To hear that you're a demigod. The child, of a Greek myth.
Yeah right.
But, you suppose it would explain all the strange things that happened to you in your childhood. Apparently all of those myths that Mr. Brunner told you in school were real.
Because your best friend has goat hooves for feet???
He takes you to Camp Half-Blood, which your (apparently) satyr friend says is the only place safe for demigods like you. Almost everyone is shocked to meet you, especially because you're much older
He takes you to the Hermes cabin, where you'll stay until your Godly parent claims you.
And there, you meet
Travis Stoll
Now it may not be obvious at first, but let me explain.
He's one of the two head counselors for the cabin. Him and his brother personally get you situated into Camp life.
Connor finds you fun and polite enough, but it's Travis who has a crush on you.
It's like at first sight with you.
Connor and Travis have rather different types in women they like, which is why I personally see you with Travis more than Connor.
Connor likes girls who are softer. Maybe a little more "delicate". Girls who giggle at his every joke.
Travis likes his girls a little more athletic, of which there is no shortage of in Camp Half-Blood. He likes girls who are strong. Girl where he doesn't have to worry about them being hurt when he isn't around.
At first though, he doesn't even think his crush will go anywhere. He just likes to admire you from afar.
He's much too busy as a year-round Head counselor. Let alone, the replacement head counselor of a camper gone rogue.
The day his crush on you goes somewhere is when he finds you breaking down in a corner of the Hermes cabin. Your godly parent is just taking forever to claim you. You feel unwanted. Abandoned. Alone.
Now, this is nothing new to Travis. It's like a demigod's rite of passage into Camp Half-Blood.
Doesn't make it any easier to see someone else feeling the same way he did once upon a time.
He comforts you as best he can. He lets you scream and cry, or he lets you throw things around, if that's how you handle things.
And when you're done with your crying, he offers ways to get your mind off of it. Sparring, or drawing with you. Reading whatever textbooks the Big House has.
He even tells you about his own experiences with the gods. His own quests he's been on, big or small. He tells you about how his father claimed him. He isn't afraid of being vulnerable with you, even though all of his instincts are yelling at him to be paranoid.
From there, your friendship becomes something more. You find yourself looking for him whenever either of you have free time.
Since you enjoy active activities just as much as quieter ones, it's rather lucky Travis is the one who likes you. He's the same way.
He doesn't read as much, because even though all the books in Camp Half-Blood are written in Greek, he just doesn't like reading. But he'll listen to you read. He likes listening to you read aloud. Or even if you don't want to do that, he'll probably whittle away at a piece of wood while you draw.
His main love languages are quality time and acts of service after all. This is how he shows you he likes you.
It's very lucky that neither of you enjoy gossip. Travis hates rumors and all that what have you. It's a big reason why he doesn't get along with a lot of the Aphrodite kids.
His favorite dates with you are when you two go out and do something active. Preferably when you two can leave the camp. Not far, probably not even out of Manhattan.
He just wants to take you out to do something fun, that will leave memories that the two of you can cherish for a lifetime.
Honorable mentions!
Frank Zhang
You're actually pretty close to his canon romantic interest type. At least, what I'm imagining, based on your description. He also likes quieter activities, while still enjoying more physical things, too. You two would spend a lot of your time together since you enjoy many similar things. I just felt he'd be too obvious of a choice. (and also, he's from Heroes of Olympus, technically, and I didn't know if that's what you were also looking for.)
What a lovely dive into the world of Percy Jackson!
Now, it's time to move on from the world of gods and demigods, and into the world of pirates and giants.
You're sailing the Big Blue. Whether as a pirate or military, doesn't matter.
Either way, it's
Koby
He meets you by chance. Most likely while he's infiltrating a pirate's ship.
He finds you, probably being held hostage. And he rescues you.
He's enamored by you when you two first meet. He finds himself wanting to keep in touch with you after he's rescued you from the pirates, whether or not you are a pirate yourself.
He's proved before that he doesn't care about where you stand on that front. He just wants to hold your hand.
At first, he tries to get your attention by leaving you gifts. Anonymously, of course.
Training under Garp may have given him confidence in himself, but not confidence in his courting skills.
He leaves you little things like seashells he found along the beaches he came across that reminded him of you. Little flowers he came across while patrolling a town. Chocolates, if you're into those.
(He's getting all of his ideas from romance novels)
It takes him a long time to muster the courage to tell you who's leaving you those gifts.
Should you decide to accept him, I promise you that he's a great boyfriend.
He's attentive, and kind, and gives you everything that you want whenever he's able to. (His love languages are gift giving and quality time)
He makes time in his schedule for you. All of his vacation days are used up just for your dates.
He also enjoys just listening to you talk. He enjoys debating with you, just because he likes hearing your opinions and thoughts, even if sometimes he doesn't agree.
Also, he adores your style. Honestly, what someone wears isn't the first thing that catches his attention about people he's attracted to. It's their determination and their willpower that draws him in.
But he thinks you look cute in everything you choose to wear. Whether it be your crop tops and shorts, or your tanks and cargo jeans.
Really, he's just completely enamored by you.
Out of everyone, Koby is probably the most emotionally competent. At least, in the navy, he is. It's not often that you two have arguments. You understand that he does his best to make time for you, and he's very amenable to understanding you and how you work.
So when you two do get into arguments, Koby makes it a point to never raise his voice, no matter how frustrated he gets. He listens to what you have to say and is careful to change his behavior should he find you correct in what you're saying.
Relationships are a lot of work, but it's nothing he's not willing to do.
Honorable mentions!
Luffy
It's not that I thought he was obvious, although it was an obvious choice to me. It's that I think he might not be able to sit down for too long to have those long kinds of conversations that you seem to love. He's too hyper, he has to be doing something always. (and also he'd eat all your food)
I hope you enjoyed it đ„ș
#percy jackon and the olympians#pjo x reader#pjo matchup#pjo headcanon#travis still x reader#travis stoll#one piece#one piece x reader#one piece koby#koby x reader#matchups#tubbypeddle
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Chapter Twenty - Interlude I. Love
Summary: Tomura Shigaraki was her dad's boss's son. He was the creep that stole girls' underwear and tried to grope her in his room. But it's not like he could get her Dad fired just because she wouldn't sleep with him, right? ...right?
CW: Quirkless!AU, Explicit Smut, Dub-Con, Coercion, Blackmail, Cheating, Sexual Guilt, Humiliation, Unhealthy Relationships, Virginity Kink, Groping, Power Play, Hate to Love, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Animal Death, Slow Burn, Misogyny
Read Full Chapter on AO3
[excerpt]
She was at a breaking point. No seriously. She didnât know how much more of this she could handle.
âThe relationship between polar coordinates and the standard rectangular coordinates x comma y is represented in the four equations x equals r cosine-theta, y equals r sine-theta, r-squared equalsâŠâ she mumbled through her notes.
She was pretty sure that she wasnât even processing the words she was saying anymore, sheâd been studying so long. But honestly, what other choice did she have right now?
With swim practice canceled this week for finals, her friends preoccupied with their own study frenzies, and Shigaraki in Kyushu for the week, she had no distractions, no excuses to fill her freetime with anything other than studying. And with not only finals this week, but entrance exams following close around the corner, she was determined to take full advantage of that time.
âŠMaybe too full of advantage. She dropped her head on the desk, mind completely swarmed with static. She was pretty sure that if she tried to stuff one more vocabulary word or equation into that brain of hers that itâd actually explode. She could practically smell the smoke coming from her own ears.Â
She peered up as her phone buzzed up a storm next to her. At last, a respite from her own brain. It was probably just spam, but even making dumb smalltalk with the robot asking her about her carâs extended warranty sounded like a great break at the moment.
But then she saw who was actually on the caller ID, and was instantly filled with confusion and a light garnish of dread.
Mirio Togata.
Why was he calling her? Wasnât he supposed to be at work right now?Â
Against the nagging feeling in her gut, she answered the phone.
âHey, babe!â he chirped on the other end, supposedly full of his normal enthusiasm, there was something kind of off about his voice, although she couldnât quite put her finger on what.
âHeyâŠâ she said cautiously, âWhatâs up?â
âNot much! The weatherâs awesome today, isnât it?! Makes me wish I didnât have to work! How about you?â
âUm⊠I guess, maybe?â she answered, pushing open her blinds slightly to reveal a definitively gray sky, âI havenât really been outside eitherâŠâ
âStudying hard, or hardly studying?â he joked.
âUh, well IâŠâ she sighed, a little annoyed and wanting to just get to the point, âIs something wrong? You donât usually call when youâre at work.â
There was a pause on the other end, Mirio caught off guard by being confronted directly. Heâd obviously hoped to have some weird segue into whatever he was calling about.
âMirioâ?â
âHaha, yeah, I guess you caught me there, huh?â he laughed, clearly forced, âI guess I justâ! Well, umâŠâ
Her brows furrowed, Mirio was at a loss for words. That was really not like him. Now she was getting worried.
â...Yeah?â
âWell, thereâs something I want to ask you and I really donât think it can wait any longer.â
âOkayâŠâ
âSo um, yeah here it goes!â he laughed nervously, âWere you with Shigaraki last week?â
Wait, that was it?Â
The way Mirio had been ramping up and beating around the bush so much, sheâd assumed that this was going to be about something way bigger, maybe something involving the swim dinner or before. About an incident with Shigaraki that he didnât know about. But asking about last week? What was the problem exactly?Â
âYeah,â she answered, audibly confused, âI told you that we were gonna study and game at his place.â
âYou said it was you two and another friend.â
âIt was,â she insisted.
âOkay, so why did I hear from Shindo that you two were having dinner alone together?â
She blinked.Â
âHuh?â
Not too long ago that would have sparked an immediate âoh crapâ reaction from her, a panic that she was caught up shit creek without a paddle. But today? When she had nothing to hide? She was just confused.Â
âWell, we were hungry so we went out for a biteâŠâ
âJust the two of you though?â
âYeah, Spinner had work andââ she cut herself off before she got too worked up with excuses, not sure why she needed to explain this, âWhatâs the problem here? You were the one who encouraged me to keep hanging out with Shigaraki.â
âSure, but I thought you guys were just like, hanging out at his house or the library or something...â
She scoffed, rising to pace her room as irritation coursed heavier through her tendons, âWhatâs the difference? If you trust me alone at his house, why donât you trust me when Iâm getting dinner with him?â
âBabe, I trust you no matter where you are. JustâŠâ he sighed, trying to figure out how to word this, âI mean you gotta think about the implications. You two having dinner alone together looks like a date.â
âBut it wasnât a date.â
â I know that,â he assured her, âBut thatâs not what our classmates are gonna think.â
She stopped in her tracks.
Oh.
Ohhh.Â
So thatâs why he was upset. She shouldâve fucking known.
âIs that really all you care about?â she demanded, âNot whether or not Iâm on a date with another guy, but whether or not it looks like Iâm on a date?â
âCome on babe, you know thatâs not what I meantââ
âDo I?!â she snapped, âWho cares what our classmates think? We know the truth, so whatâs the problem?!â
Mirio sighed, âBabe, I didnât call to pick a fight. Iâm just asking you to have a little more self-awareness, alright?â
She laughed in disbelief, âYou know, thatâs real rich coming from you, Peaches.â
Finally, Mirio too let his frustration get the better of him, âOh my Godâ when did you become so mean ?!â
âI donât know, probably around the same time you became such a judgemental asshole !â she shouted, before slamming her thumb into the end call icon and throwing the stupid thing onto her bed.
She stood there, chest heaving in rage, trying to calm herself down. It took her a couple of minutes to realize that her Dad was standing outside her open door, wide-eyed and fist raised mid-knock.
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#TOMURA SHIRAGAKI#TOMURA SHIGARAKI X READER#tomura shigaraki x oc#SHIGARAKI#TOMURA SHIGARAKI#BNHA SHIGARAKI#MHA SHIGARKI#SHIGARAKI FANFIC#READER INSERT#LONG FIC#SMUT#SHIGARAKI SMUT#TW DUBCON#QUIRKLESS AU#SPICE WRITES#mha#bnha#mha smut#bnha smut#play nice fic
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