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chibikochannumberone · 5 months ago

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Looking forward to what you have in store!! Reposting so I remember to look for an update ❤️❤️❤️

A Bat Among Squids

Warnings: Mention of blood. Death, and murder. Not proofread.

a/n: My brain was thinking "Why not show them the game first so the reader wonders how reader was treated. Might be thrilling. It will make them wonder why we hold so much resentment to the Batfam." So I follow my brain for the first time in a long time. Hope you like it and I hope I served. Fair warning this part will be long. Plus I wasn't at my house for friday and saturday hence why its so late. Don't mind.

You woke up in a room. The lights were burning and the amount of people in the same room made it feel almost stuffy. The large lavish room and the clean white bed and shoes reminding you of your origin. You made a small guess you were still in Gotham but your brain stopped thinking when certain masked men came in pink jumpsuit. Weird fashion taste. The one with the square had a pistol behind them where triangles a semi-machine gun on their back.

"Hello, contestants." The monotone voice behind the mask spoke up. "You are here to play a game. Those who win will get an unbelievable amount of money." The word 'money' piqued your interest. You mentally slapped yourself for being greedy. There must be a catch. Living in Gotham for so long you know that nothing comes for free. Especially money. Soon the people started asking questions, almost like the pandora's box. Humanity and its curiosity just never ends. "How much money will we get?" "Did you change my clothes?" "What happened to my jewelry?" "My limited edition shoes are gone!" "What is the game?" "How many games are there?" more and more questions with no answer. The masked man just looked towards the crowd of hundreds of people with their monotone gaze. All most as if they didn't care about half of what they asked. "You will get your clothes and stuff back after the games." The monotone voice spoke again. You took your time looking around when suddenly a elderly man screamed he looked around his 60's with all that white hair. "How much money will we even get?!" God. Even old people in Gotham have no patience. As the others started screaming you went back to your bed not minding them much when suddenly the lights went dim. Looking up at the screen it now showed the old man's face being slapped as he failed the game of Rock Paper Scissors. "10 million in debt." The square guy called out. More and More people were shown on the screen before the guy closed the screen with the remote all his hand. "Everyone in this room is financially ruined. We are giving you a chance." He pressed another button as a giant golden piggy bank came out from the roof of the room. Knowing that you had a small understanding that you were underground and digging the wall out will mean no use. "Currently since none of you are eliminated there is no money in the bank. However, every time one of you get eliminated $68,340 gets added to the bank. Last one standing take it all." The pink guy said out loud causing all of the screams to die down. Humans are greedy creatures aren't they?

After a few minutes you were set up in four lines to sign a contract. The contract was simple...too simple for such huge amount of money they will give you.

1. A player is not allowed to stop playing. 2. A player who refuses to play will be eliminated. 3. Games will be terminated if majority agrees.

You looked through the paper before signing. You have nothing to loose either ways, and you know that is what everyone else thought when they didn't ask questions and just signed the paper. Everything went by quickly before the first game started. I took my picture in the oddly mazed place following the herd like a sheep following a random herd to survive blending in with the teal jackets with the numbers being the only one taking you apart. You went up to the first game. Red light Green light. The doll was huge. How did they even have money for this? Who made this? Your train of thoughts stopped at a station when the PA system came online telling you about the rules. "When 'it' says green light you may move. When 'it' says red light you shall stop. Anyone moving after the green light period will be eliminated." God... You have to play children games to win money? You can already hear the whispers of those with ego bigger than their forehead talking about easy money. The PA system came again with a countdown..."5...4...3...2...1. Go." A woman was near the front when a bee came in. How is a bee here? The woman moved right when the doll said "red light" and that is when the sheep's realized that there was a hungry wolf in their herd. Screams started pouring out filling the room and leaving from the open top which you just realized as more gunshots started to take over the room drowning the cries of the people but you stayed still. Years of being under supervision. Being treated like a dog about to bite their master told you when to stop and when to start. It's practically in the blood in your veins. Soon the gunshots died down with around a 4 football teams amount of people dead in front of the gate. A dozen or so still behind the line never even getting a chance to beg to stay alive.

The game went by fairly quickly afterwards. It was a 5 minute game after all. A few gunshots were heard every now and then but you kept yourself from flinching so you won't be detected as moving. You went to the finish line blood on your feet by stepping on a puddle of it accidentally. Your legs gave up right after you reached the line thankfully. The dread finally setting in when you realized what type of game you signed up for. Looking at the amount of people behind the line with you. Though it seems around 25% of the people you were with before is now dead. The PA system congratulated the winners before the guards came and took us back to our room. You don't remember much of what happened. Just the fact that everyone in the room was on their knees and begging like it was ancient monarchy. You didn't say much. But you saw the greed in half of their eyes realizing how much money they will get when they saw the piggy bank already filled with notes and notes of money. 5.46....5.46 million already? But when you looked up at the number above it your blood stopped running your veins. Stopping almost like you are already dead. Like you are another one of the bodies in that pile. 376. It was 456 before. 80 people died in that game. Yet something else also caught your interest. The red number. 15000...only? if we stop the game now you will only have 15,000. It's not much with the current economy... and definitely not enough to pay your debt. One more game won't hurt...right?

Away from prying eyes. Batman found a little information about a certain games. Asking Tim and Barbra to gain as much intel as possible on this 'Games'. Tim and Barbra being the nerds they are (Jason's words) found out where it is located. However the games inside was confidential meaning they need to go there themselves. Bruce just felt a itch on his head whenever he heard about this wondering about something he is forgetting but never putting a finger on what it was. Him and Tim got dressed as Oracle finding and getting any information from behind the scene as Damian just sulks at now being able to go on the mission.

Bruce and Tim got suited up as Bruce again felt that Itch on his head again. Why is he feeling like something is wrong? He checked the manor nothing seemed out of place except a somewhat saddened Alfred. He just chalked it up to that as there wasn't any emotional dates coming by so Alfred being sad out of nowhere might have ticked him off slightly. Yeah that is the main cause. What else could tick him off? Maybe the sudden emptiness the manor seems to have for the last few weeks or so. Or maybe the peeled walls of a room that seemed unused but also filled with memories of something or someone he just can't remember. He is just being paranoid. There is no other reason. No way. He checked everything and there isn't a single hair strand out of place.

"Batman? batman! EARTH TO BATMAN!" Bruce came out of his thoughts as he realized Tim was jumping in front of him waving his hand in front of his eyes almost as a way of getting him out of his almost tranced state. "I am here, Tim." "Yeah. Now you are here. You were gone for like 5 minutes what were you thinking?" "Nothing much. Just the manor feels off. Almost like something or someone is gone." "Now that you say...It does feel off to a certain extent. I will ask Damian to find out if anything is missing." "Please do. Now back to plan. You get in the VIP room and find information from the VIPs. I take the control room and shut the game down." "Yeah yeah I remember." "I was in a deep fear your overworked brain would forget." "I never forget!" "..." "What's the silence for?" "Let's just go through the plan." "Yes, bat." Bruce just gives a quiet nod as a response before getting in the batmobile. Why was there a gut feeling he will find something there that he shouldn't have seen?

You feel cold and the dried blood on your skin isn't helping. You should have stopped. You could have stopped. Why didn't you? Yeah...You were greedy. How could you not be? Your father and your so called family gets to live their lives while you are here trying to survive. You deserve to be greedy. You are allowed to be greedy for once no? But...But you didn't want to be this greedy. You looked down at your new outfit it was a black suit. There was three left to survive. You were still alive. Maybe... Just maybe you can stop the game now. You have enough money. You can live with that much money. They will agree right? But those pink guys didn't let you vote this time. No...They won't let you vote at all. You are just horses in a race. A jester in a court. A hamster in a wheel. You can't get out. Till you entertain them. Or else...You will die. A soft chuckle left your lips and soon the pink guard came inside to check on you for staying in the room for so long. "Finalist 228. Let's go. The special meal is going to be served in a few minutes." There it is again. The monotone voice. It made your skin crawl like there were insects underneath it. You just followed his orders. He has a machine gun and You know he isn't afraid to shoot you so you are killed like everyone else.

As you enter the room the other two look at you already seated as you sit down. The pink men gave you your utensils. How long has it been since your food was served in such a manner? You take the utensil and dig in not minding manners eating bread and milk every day made you very hungry and it also made the others hungry too. You just finished your food sometimes eyeing the others to check for any oncoming attacks since there was three different knives for the salad meat and side. All sharp and shining under the light of the giant piggy bank. Reminding you of the greed that caused the lives of so many. 001, 228 and 456. Such an odd number isn't it? almost like beginning middle and end. You adjusted slightly in your seat as memories of the games before came back to you. You weren't happy. You weren't sad or somber in the memory. You don't know how you feel. But you know its a mix. It's not one pure emotion. It never was. It never will be.

The second game started. You went to a playground sort of space. Four doors in the front most wall. with 4 different symbols. Circle. Triangle. Star. Umbrella. The umbrella made you feel off. The other shapes where fairly common shapes when suddenly there is an umbrella in the mixture. Best to not pick it. The PA system blared out again, with its usual instructions for the game. "Please stand in line in front of the shape you picked." You went to the triangle It looked the simplest plus what would a triangle even mean? What do all of these shapes mean? That is when the door open and a container was given to you opening the container you saw a candy? "The shape given to you must be cut out with the needle on top. Any cracks or if the shape breaks you will be eliminated." Ah...shit. You started to steadily trace the shape out taking the needle away from the candy every time someone got killed in case you accidentally flinch and break your own. You were able to survive. Though seeing how nearly everyone who picked umbrella are now in a swimming pool of their own blood...You better be thanking your guts.

You followed the pink people back to your room. You just wanted some sleep. Especially after seeing the number of people now with 74 less. You just have to survive god knows how many more games. Its alright. You will survive. Right? You stopped mumbling when you realized 001 was beside you again with his gentle smile. "You survived...Thank the gods. I thought I will miss you." "Miss me?" "Yeah. You reminded me of my little sister. You two have the same eyes after all." "same...eyes?" You asked almost curiously but more suspiciously. "Yeah..." "Why are you here either ways?" "For her. My sister. She has bone cancer. Gotham already has horrible hospitals. So I tried to take her to the hospitals outside of the city. But the payment is way too much.." "oh. I...I am sorry." "It's alright. Care to eat breakfast with me tomorrow?"...You looked up at him your eyes meeting his hazel ones. It won't hurt for one breakfast. "sure." Soon the timer for lights out started ticking.

Your heart started beating as fast as a bullet train when you realized what just happened. You woke up middle of the night with screams when you looked to the bed across yours... you saw the dead body of 001. Running up to him you tried to stop the bleeding. Through out the games he was the only one talking to you like you were human. Not the Wayne that got kicked out. Not as a outcast in a place with people filled with desperation for money while you came from a rich background. "Daniel...Daniel this isn't funny. Wake up! Please don't go don't go you can't leave me here-" Your voice stopped as the familiar sound of the door opening with the heartless pink guards coming in. Looking at them with your wide eyes with 001's half dead hand came up to caress your face smearing it with blood slightly. "Win...for me...Little sis..." That was his last words before the guards tried to take his body away wanting to not leave him you held onto his hand just to have a gun pointed on the temple of your head. "The player is dead. Let us proceed or you will be in the next coffin." You let your hand leave his not wanting to die now after promising 001 that you will win. You looked at the old man that killed him. It was the same one with 10 million in debt. You wanted to kill him right now before the guards made you go to your next game.

The last game. The one that will determine your fate.

Bruce looks down at the Security camera of the control room his eyes widened noticing a familiar figure. You. When did it get this bad? Why didn't you contact him? How could he let you get into a game where you could die? He calmed himself down mentally cheering for you to live through the game the guards named "Dalgona Candy". Tim went to get Dick and Damian realizing this was done by the owls. Of course it was. He knew the rich people in the gala were always stuck up self centered and almost thought of humans who are poor as animals especially with how they treated their servants but this? This is just...a new level of horror.

"Red robin. Are you there?" Bruce talked into his comms "Yeah, Did you find anything?" "You might be shocked as much as I am. Call the entire family to come. Now." "Wait what do you mean the entire fam-" Bruce turned off the comms his eyes just arranged on your face on the screen. How...and when did this happen? That is his child acting like a lamb in the slaughter for these rich bastards. Bruce could hear the memories of the moments together resurfacing in his mind. Realizing that his anger towards the woman that cheated on him was the reason why his only biological daughter is going through hell and back. Bruce placed a hand on the screen tracing the screen as if it's your face. How long has it been since he saw me? So that was what was missing. You. The mansion felt quite without you. It was hurting him by not being able to hold you realizing the amount of pain and trauma you are going through.

You woke up to the smell of blood realizing most people including yourself are unable to change your clothes or clean them the entire perfectly pearly white walls and the beautifully white beds where stained red to some extent. The iron smell clinging to your body as you went to the washroom cleaning your face and the side of your shoe before the pink men came in with the food. You took yours and left before 001 came and sat beside you 222 and 380 were also with you. You were eating like usual when you realized one thing. They gave you a fork this time. Not the spork or what you like to call it but a metal fork. Things are going to get bloody tonight. But for it to be bloody we need a fight. And that is when your brain chalked up the conclusion....The game is going to cause this fight. You looked around with people huddled up in a group. They seemed to be in a close knitted group. No, your gut must be wrong. There is no way they will turn on each other right? You just let out a sigh as you opened your tin box. A cashew nut salad. At least they are giving you tasty food. You looked down at your leg seeing it shake. God you can't even eat in peace. "Um, since you are new how about we give each other our name?" You heard 222 call out. Oh. Name? Bruce never showed you out to the people in case villains tried to harm you for money. Was it okay giving your name...? Well. Since you are knocking at the door of death any moment. Why not make sure this world remember you? "(y/n). The name's (y/n)" "Don't have a last name?" 001 called out chirping in the conversation with curiosity practically pouring out of him. "No, no not really." You know its a lie. 001 also knows that you are a Wayne. Then why is he acting dumb?...Is he covering for you?...That. That is nice of him especially in a death game. "(y/n)'s a nice name. sounds really pretty." "Thanks." You replied with a polite smile. "I am Michael. Michael Landon." 380 called out. "I-I am Zoe. Zoe Seong." "Seong? are you from Korea?" "Ah, yeah I am." Short sentences, she must be shy with new people. She was talking quite well with the other two. "I am Daniel. Nice to meet you." 001 said he still had his soft smile. How can he be in such ease when so many people died? "No last name either?" "Nah, I am a refugee. They never found out my parents or my real name. The orphanage just called me Daniel." "Oh. So your sister is also from the orphanage?" "Yeah." He looked at you a small shine in his eyes talking about his sister. He must have missed her a lot.

Daniel took your hand and pulled you into a room. You hold his hand tightly causing him to look over realizing how scared you are.... What just happened? No way so many died right? You look up noticing the guards walking by killing everyone who isn't in a room. The doors open after a certain amount of time. You mentally count the people in the room...around 180. How many died already? Daniel just pulls you closer a hand on your shoulder. You can win this You can survive. You step on the platform again holding his hand as the song starts playing. Your breathing heavy and labored. You saw how an entire room of people died because they had one more person. You can't let them all die. The music stops and so does your blood hearing the number '3' on the speakers. Daniel just takes yours and Michael's hand leaving Zoe sprinting to a room with a purple door. What was the name again..? You look out seeing Zoe coming to the door banging on the door as you try and open the lock. Never having food made you weak unable to open the door as she just gets shot like any other body and limps down the door. You follow her action your knees giving out realizing what just happened. Daniel catches you before you hit your head and slowly the door opens again and you are greeted with a pool of her blood near the entrance. You wanted to gag at the sight. Looking away you just went back to the circle in the middle.

You drop the knife on your hand blood dropping from your fingers on to the dead body of 456. What happened? A few seconds ago you were about to end it all and now...Did he run into the knife? You try to stop the wound and wake him up but soon the PA system comes out but it isn't the normal PA system it was a male's voice...Wait did you hear this voice before? "Bruce?" The PA system stopped you look up at the speakers as he speaks in them again "Come home with me." "but-" "No buts. I am your father and you will listen to me." After a few minutes he came in the room you where in Dick Jason and Tim behind him Damian just scoffed and investigated the place. "(y/n)...Lets go back home." "Now I am your daughter?" Tim looked up when I said that "huh-?" "Now that I am about to die and go missing and ruin the Wayne name Now I am your daughter?!" "Sis. Calm down lets go back home and we can talk about this." Leave me alone. Don't call me sis." "Why? I am your half brother I should be able to call you sis!" "Why? you are asking why? You left me to feed myself while being in debt for college tuitions barely able to feed myself a cup of noodle or get enough money to pay rent and you and your little batfam comes in and is asking me why they can't call me sister?!" anger burned through your veins. How dare they come out of nowhere and act like they are your siblings? You were dying trying to find food for a day and the anger blinded you so much you didn't realize Tim knocking you out. Everything faded to black your head falls on the sandy ground beside the dead body of 456. You felt your last bit of consciousness fade away when you felt someone pick you up and the iconic blue color of a certain vigilante made you realize who it was. Dick. You moved your hand up trying to push him away just for you to fall into a forced sleep. Back in a cage. Back where no one can hear your pleas and your cries. Back to the time when you would sit in a dusty corner like one of the unused furniture in the mansion among the peeling walls of the old wallpaper Bruce didn't care to change. Back to when you were treated like a dog on a leash.

a/n: Sup sup sup sup sup! Author here Reader's backstory gonna be in the next part because its about to turn into night and I have homework due so like I need to finish that. It's going to be ANGSTY the next part will make a headcannon on different types of ways the reader just dies and on what games they would die on and how they will feel if they died in that game.

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chibikochannumberone · 6 months ago

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Shiver me timbers

With Bared Teeth & Prayers (Yandere Batfam X Neglected Reader) (Dark!!! Werewolf AU) (PT. 2)

Hi guys, I’m alive. I’ve just been sick and then found out that my dog’s cancer spread and the surgery costs $3,000 which is insane. Anyways, I’ve been working irl so I completely forgot about this account. Sorry pookies🤕🙏.

If anyone wants to know I’m still taking commissions, and if my price doesn’t work for you I’m sure I can lower it!! Honestly, I’ll write for whatever price I’m lowkey desperate.😭🙏

The next morning, you wake up in panic, shit, you slept in. You rush out the manor forgoing breakfast, almost eating shit on the sidewalk in your rush. You hop onto your bike, pedaling as if death itself was chasing you, huffing and puffing. Thankfully you make it to school on time, if only just on time.

You fall into your seat just as the bell rings, letting the top half of your body crumple over the desk.

“Looks like somebody had a rough morning.” The familiar voice of one of your best friends.

“Fuck off Quinn.” You huff out tiredly.

“Fine, then I guess this extra black coffee I got at Gloria’s is going to waste then.” She said teasingly.

How is it that she always has impeccable intuition about these things?

You groaned sitting up, giving Quinn a tired look.

“Yikes, I was gonna make another smartass joke but you look like you’re about to keel over.” She said worriedly, handing over the extra coffee.

“Ha ha, yeah I feel like I'm about to keel over. Thanks for the coffee by the way.” You said dryly.

“Don’t sweat it girl, but–uh, what the hell happened.”

“Too much dude, too much. It's so much bullshit I don't even know where to start.”

“Im guessing its about–”

“Ding, ding, ding, you got it.”

“Shit…how bad? They’re not gonna… you know…” Quinn stutters off.

“Kill me? Eat me?”

She nodded.

You massage your forehead, a headache forming between your eyebrows. “I'll be so for real right now, I don't even know.”

“Damn, I don't even know what to say to that.” Quinn grimaces.

“It’d be weird if you did.” You joked giving her a sardonic smile.“Well if they’re gonna kill me, I hope they do it before finals.”

“You’ve got issues (Y/n).”

“I’m aware.”

Just then the chatter in the class started to pipe down as your history teacher, Mr. Lechliter, made his way into the room. However, something wasn’t right; his usually neat hair was in disarray and you could smell that he was profusely sweating. He was nervous, which was completely out of character. Sure Mr. Lechliter was awkward at times but he was normally confident and loud around the class, something was going on.

“Good morning, class,” Mr. Lechliter began, but his voice was shaky, not at all the usual booming tone he used to command the room. “I-uh, hope you’re all ready to jump into… um, well, history.” He swallowed hard, glancing around as if searching for something—or someone—outside the door.

You look at Quinn with a raised eyebrow. What the hell is happening right now?

“We, um, actually have two guests who’ll be auditing a couple of classes today so we all want you guys on your best behavior. For our sakes and yours.” He said fidgeting with his paperweight globe, however, it was what he whispered under his breath that had you worried. What the fuck did he mean by that?!

“These guest speakers are one of the school's top sponsors so I truly cannot express the need we have for you all to behave and be on task, understand?” Mr. Lechliter spoke gravely.

The class let out a scattered “Yes” whilst others nodded. Now it was the class's turn to start getting nervous, the energy in the room now becoming quite grim. Seeing the class’s cooperation, Mr. Lechliter let out a shaky smile and nodded back at the class in approval. You sipped your coffee nervously in tandem.

“Good. Now, without further adieu, please welcome the esteemed Bruce Wayne and his son, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne.”

And in walked your worst nightmare as you choked on your coffee. A hesitant applause began as a couple of heads turned your way, including the scrutinizing eyes of Bruce Wayne and Tim Drake.

“Jesus Christ (Y/n), are you good?” Quinn whispered, patting your back.

“Does it look like I'm good, Quinn?” You whisper-yell back.

“Sorry, dumb question.”

“I legitimately can't do this right now.” You groan out quietly.

Tim’s sharp, calculating gaze landed on you, and for a split second, his lips twitched upward in what looked disturbingly close to satisfaction. Bruce, however, kept his gaze steady, stoic, making his way to the front of the class like he owned every square inch of the room—and maybe, in a way, he did.

Bruce stepped forward, greeting Mr. Lechliter with a firm handshake before addressing the class. “Good morning,” he said, his voice carrying a smooth authority. “It’s always a pleasure to see the next generation of Gotham’s finest minds, and today, we’re here to discuss some unique opportunities with Wayne Enterprises—partnerships, scholarships, and mentorship programs that may be of interest to you in your future studies.”

Meanwhile, Tim’s gaze remained fixed on you, a silent warning lingering behind his polite smile. You swallowed hard, avoiding eye contact, hoping that blending in might somehow make you invisible. But Tim had no intention of letting you off the hook. He leaned slightly closer to Bruce, murmuring something that made Bruce’s eyes flicker in your direction, his expression unreadable.

Quinn leaned over, her voice barely a whisper. “(Y/n), what the hell is going on? They keep looking at you.”

“Trust me, I wish I knew,” you muttered back, managing to take a sip of coffee without choking this time. “They’re just here to make my life a living nightmare, apparently.”

As Bruce and Tim began their presentation, outlining all the “wonderful opportunities” that a connection to Wayne Enterprises could bring, you couldn’t help but feel trapped. Every line, every subtle glance, seemed like a reminder that escape from their influence was impossible. They were inescapable, even here, in the one place you thought you could breathe.

When they finally wrapped up their presentation, Bruce offered to answer questions, his gaze settling on you for the briefest moment, as if daring you to speak up. You just nervously looked away, its fine, they’ve said their piece and will be leaving soon.

But of course life doesn't ever go the way that you want.

The relief that had started to settle in evaporated as Bruce and Tim made no move to leave. Instead, they took seats at the back of the classroom, settling in with that same poised, assessing presence that dominated every room they entered. Bruce folded his hands in his lap, his gaze steady and inscrutable, while Tim casually crossed his arms, his eyes tracking every student’s reaction, but always coming back to you.

You swallowed hard, glancing at Quinn, who was now just as unsettled as you were. “Are they… staying?” she whispered, her brows knitting together in worry.

“Looks like it,” you muttered, barely moving your lips.

Mr. Lechliter, visibly tense under the weight of their scrutiny, resumed his lesson with all the grace of a man on the edge of a breakdown. Every time he stumbled over his words or glanced nervously at Bruce, the room felt as if it held its breath.

“This, um, particular era in history…” Mr. Lechliter began, stammering slightly as he struggled to keep his usual confident tone. “It’s a time when alliances shifted often, and there was…constant jockeying for power…”

Bruce and Tim watched, expressions neutral, but you knew better than to believe their act. They weren’t here for any genuine interest in educational standards; they were here as a reminder, a warning that the Wayne influence extended beyond the manor walls.

You focused on your notebook, pen tapping anxiously against the paper as you tried to tune them out and take frantic notes. But it was impossible to ignore the cold prickle at the back of your neck. Every glance felt like a needle, each second stretching longer than the last.

Mr. Lechliter’s lecture painstakingly continued on for another thirty minutes before class started coming to an end.

The bell finally rang as you shot up out of your seat and practically sprinted out the door. You head to your locker, feeling the many starters of students and teachers bore into you. Another thing was that everyone kinda knew that the Wayne’s didn't like you, it was very obvious. Which meant the media had a field day, letting the entirety of Gotham know how much the famous pack hated you. So now your business was also aired out to the entire world to know. Wonderful, am I right?

You shove your unneeded books into your (tbh, very cutely) decorated locker, while grabbing the science textbook you needed for your next class, AP Biology. This class was the absolute bane of your existence. Not only was the content hard, the teacher was also absolutely nuts. You walk over to your Bio class, clutching your books like a lifeline. “Please, dont be here too.” You pray to yourself. Thankfully, this class was normal, well, as normal as it could get. The other two classes you have before lunch ended the same way, Wayneless.

As your fourth class comes to an end your stomach starts to growl. You’d be embarrassed, but everyone else in your class was in a similar starved state. When the lunch bell goes off, you’re excitedly grabbing your things and making your way down. Fucking finally it was lunchtime. You made your way to the quickly growing lunchline

Your friends were already sitting at your usual table as you made your way over and slammed your lunch tray on the table.

“Im gonna kill myself.”

“I can't even say anything about that.” One of your other friends Daniel says.

You groaned holding your head in your hands, your headache becoming more prevalent as you turn to look at him.

“Man all I did was ask to leave, and now this shit? I can't even right now.”

“You finally asked to leave, huh? I'm guessing it didn't go well.” Daniel asks.

“Nope, but when does anything ever go right in my life.”

Just as you finish talking, the noisy cafeteria falls abruptly silent. The usual clatter of trays and chatter of students fades, replaced by an almost eerie quiet. You and your friends exchange confused glances before turning to see what—or who—could possibly have silenced a room full of teenagers. But in the pit of your stomach, you already have an idea.

Sure enough, walking through the entrance are Bruce Wayne and Tim Drake-Wayne, looking completely out of place in their immaculate suits and composed expressions. Their powerful, calculating gazes sweep across the crowd, searching for someone, before both of their eyes zero in on you and your table. Instinctively, you tense up, your shoulders hunching as if to make yourself smaller, and you feel the flush of embarrassment heat your cheeks under their scrutiny.

Their focused stares make you flinch, and you quickly look away, facing your friends once more. “See what I mean?” you mutter under your breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “It’s like the universe is out to get me.”

Daniel raises an eyebrow, glancing between you and the Waynes, a flicker of worry passing over his face. "What are they doing here? This isn’t normal, right?”

“No, it’s definitely not,” you reply, trying to keep your tone casual even as your heart races. “They’re here to make a point.”

You further slump into the table, arms cradling your head as the cafeteria slowly starts to go back to its normal noise level. Both Tim and Bruce take a seat at a table opposite to where you’re sitting, which gives them a perfect view of your table. Great.

“Guys talk to me. Anything–talk about anything please.” You beg quietly.

Quinn leans in, glancing nervously at the Waynes across the cafeteria. “Uh, did you hear about Chief Keef performing soon? Apparently, he’ll be in Gotham.”

Daniel nods, catching on to your plea for distraction. “Yeah, yeah, I heard he's gonna bring another artist on stage. Mauve Travis or something if we’re lucky?.”

You smile weakly, grateful for the distraction, even if your heart’s still pounding. You try to focus on what they’re saying, but you can feel Tim’s gaze on you like a laser, scrutinizing, watching every movement. You pretend not to notice, grabbing a fry from your tray and nodding along to whatever Daniel and Quinn are saying, forcing yourself to join in with a half-hearted laugh here and there.

Quinn suddenly brings up a story from her last weekend, trying her best to lighten the mood. “Okay, get this—I tried to impress this guy by pretending to know how to skate, but instead, I ended up flat on my face in front of, like, everyone. Mortifying, but he did buy me a smoothie as a consolation prize.”

You chuckle, letting the story pull you out of your anxious thoughts. “I mean, sounds like it kind of worked. You got a free smoothie, right?”

Quinn laughs, rolling her eyes. “Only because he felt bad, but hey, I’ll take pity smoothies.”

The laughter at your table grows, the lighthearted moment almost making you forget the ominous presence of Bruce and Tim nearby. But just as you’re starting to relax, you catch a glimpse of Tim’s amused smirk from the corner of your eye. His eyes don’t leave you, as if he knows exactly how unsettling his presence is and he’s reveling in it.

“I think he liked you,” Daniel teases Quinn, keeping the conversation going to help ease your nerves.

“Liked my bruised ego, maybe,” she snorts. “Anyway, what about you, (Y/n)? Got any secret admirers?”

You shake your head, grateful they’re keeping the focus off your current predicament. “Nope, unless you count the cadaver frog I accidentally dropped on my lab partner. He, uh-didn’t look at me the same after that.”

Your friends burst out laughing, and for a brief, blessed moment, you almost feel normal again. But when you glance back, Bruce’s eyes are still on you, cool and unyielding.

“Here’s to hoping they’re gone after lunch,” Daniel mutters, catching your uneasy glance.

“What good has hoping ever done me?” You sigh, picking at your food.

The tension in the cafeteria never fully fades. Despite the attempts from Quinn and Daniel to keep the conversation going, the presence of Bruce and Tim just continues to overwhelm you. Every so often, your eyes flit toward them, only to find them still seated, still watching, and their expressions betraying nothing of their true intent. It feels like they’re waiting for you to make a move, to react in some way that would justify their unsettling attention.

Lunch drags on in this uncomfortable limbo until, at last, the bell rings, signaling the end of the break. Your friends gather their things, offering small words of encouragement or supportive smiles, though they too look wary of the Waynes’ lingering presence.

“I’ll see you both in Chem. Hopefully Mr. Domzalski isn't still in a bad mood from what happened yesterday.” You say.

“You mean from when you and Daniel set fire to one of his textbooks?” Quinn questions sardonically.

You and Daniel offer her a sheepish, guilty smile.

“Hey–it was an accident!” he exclaims, feigning offense.

“Yeah, what he said! We followed all the instructions to a T!” You defend as well.

“Sure, whatever you both say. I'm just surprised he didn't automatically fail you two.” Quinn says fondly.

“It’s ‘cause we’re somehow his favorites? Don't ask me how or why though.” You respond.

As you and Daniel chuckle, the lightheartedness helps lift some of the weight that had been hanging over your head. The relief is short-lived, though, as you feel a prickle on the back of your neck—a feeling that’s become all too familiar lately.

You glance back to see Bruce and Tim still watching, and for a moment, something in Bruce’s gaze changes. You can’t quite read it, but it feels sharper, like he’s calculating, considering something he hasn’t said. You swallow, gripping your bag tighter as your friends move to head toward class, unaware of the silent tension hanging around you like a cloud.

You head to your APA Algebra II class alone, without the usual buffer of Daniel or Quinn’s lighthearted banter to ease the tension. The classroom is quiet, a different atmosphere from the lively lunch period, and you’re able to slip into your seat undisturbed, hoping that the math problems ahead will give you a welcome distraction.

As the class moves on, you find yourself lost in equations, the numbers and formulas acting as a temporary refuge from everything else. You keep your head down, concentrating on the work, grateful for the momentary peace that academics bring.

When the bell rings, signaling the end of Math, you gather your things and head to APA Chemistry, where you’d finally reunite with Daniel and Quinn. When you arrive in APA Chemistry, the atmosphere is surprisingly relaxed. Mr. Domzalski hasn’t arrived yet, so everyone’s just hanging out, chatting about weekend plans, or joking around. You plop down next to Daniel, who’s already doodling on his notebook, and give Quinn a tired smile. It’s nice to have a few minutes to unwind before the usual controlled chaos of Mr. Domzalski’s class kicks in.

Then, the door swings open, and you freeze as Mr. Domzalski steps in with Tim Drake following close behind. Your stomach twists, and you have to swallow down a groan. Thankfully, Bruce is nowhere to be seen. Small blessings, you suppose; better not to question it too much. You look at your friends, trying to convey your annoyance with a single tired look as Mr. Domzalski beams with a sort of overdone excitement that sets you on edge.

“Everyone, I’d like you to welcome a special guest,” he says, practically brimming with enthusiasm. “Tim Drake-Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, is here to observe our class today.”

You sink lower in your chair, stifling a grumble. Great, just great. This whole thing was growing stale fast. You try to ignore the interested murmurs spreading through the class as everyone stares at Tim, who stands there with that same polite, professional smile he’s been flashing all day. You avoid eye contact, focusing instead on the edge of your desk as Mr. Domzalski continues.

“Now,” Mr. Domzalski goes on, shifting his focus to the lab materials, “before we dive into today’s lesson, let’s review what went wrong in yesterday’s lab.”

He shoots a pointed look in your direction, his smile still in place, but there’s a glint in his eyes that tells you he’s not exactly thrilled. “For those who might need a reminder,” he continues, not-so-subtly side-eyeing you and Daniel, “improper handling of materials led to one of my textbooks, which I cherish dearly, being set on fire.”

The class erupts into quiet snickers, and Daniel coughs into his hand, trying to disguise his laughter. You roll your eyes, but a smirk tugs at the corner of your mouth. Even Tim’s eyes change a bit, as if interested.

Mr. Domzalski clears his throat, regaining the class’s attention. “Let’s aim for a little more caution today, shall we?”

The lab for the day was going to be more complex than usual. Mr. Domzalski, with a edge of nervousness in his tone, began rattling off the new, more complicated instructions. His gaze flicked to you and Daniel more than once, lingering just long enough to make his message clear: Please don’t mess up.

You slouched slightly in your seat, already feeling the weight of the unspoken pressure. It wasn’t lost on you how much was riding on this lab going smoothly—not just for your grade, but for Mr. Domzalski himself. With Tim Drake-Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises and a member of one of Gotham’s most powerful packs, observing, any mishap could very well put your teacher’s job on the line.

Next to you, Daniel caught your eye, his lips twitching into a wry smirk. He leaned in, whispering, “Feel like we’re walking on eggshells today, huh?”

“More like a minefield,” you muttered back, eyeing the lab equipment warily. The setup looked far more intricate than usual—beakers and flasks stacked alongside pipettes, Bunsen burners, and an array of unfamiliar chemicals. It was a recipe for disaster, and you had no intention of being the one to set it off.

Tim, seated at the back of the room, watched the proceedings with his usual cool detachment. His presence was like a weight pressing down on the room, amplifying every minor sound and movement. You could practically feel his gaze on you, even when you weren’t looking his way.

“Alright, everyone,” Mr. Domzalski said, clapping his hands to gather the class’s attention. “Remember to follow the instructions precisely as they’re written. This is a delicate experiment, and precision is key. Any deviation could—well, let’s just say we don’t want any surprises today.”

The pointed glance he sent your way at the word “surprises” made you cringe internally. You shot Daniel a look. He seemed to get the message, giving you a small nod before turning his focus to the materials in front of him.

With a deep breath, you adjusted your goggles and got to work, determined not to give anyone—especially Tim—a reason to criticize.

The lab was rough from the very start. No matter how tightly you adjusted your goggles, they kept fogging up, obscuring your vision at the worst possible moments. You constantly had to pause to wipe them off, and each time, you felt Tim's Gaze flicker towards you. Daniel, meanwhile, was no better. He almost tipped over a vial of some unpronounceable chemical twice, and each time, you barely managed to steady it before disaster struck.

“Bro you have to lock in.” you said under your breath.

“I'm trying–fuck. My hands are too shaky.” Daniel whispered back, nervous as he tried held out his hands for you to see. He carefully set the vial down, only for his elbow to nudge another piece of equipment. You caught it just in time, your heart leaping into your throat.

The instructions seemed to come at lightning speed, Mr. Domzalski rattling off steps faster than you could write them down. Each new instruction layered on top of the last until your head was spinning with measurements, temperatures, and reaction times. You were doing your best to keep up—you think you were doing it right—but the constant noise and movement around you made it feel like everything was closing in.

You glanced at the flask on your workstation, bubbling faintly as it was supposed to, and double-checked the temperature. It seemed fine. Probably fine. Hopefully fine. But the nagging thought that you might’ve missed a step wouldn’t go away.

Behind you, Tim’s silent observation was like a shadow, adding another layer of stress to the already chaotic atmosphere. Every time you caught sight of him out of the corner of your eye, you swore his expression was unreadable, yet somehow judgmental.

“I think this is right,” you muttered, glancing at the next step in the instructions and adjusting your setup.

“‘Think’ isn’t reassuring, (Y/n),” Daniel replied, he was nervous. “Don’t blow us up, okay?”

“Not funny,” you snapped, though your lips twitched in a half-smile despite the stress. “Just keep stirring before we mess up the timing.”

The rest of the lab dragged on in a haze of nervous energy and frantic adjustments. Your hands trembled slightly as you measured out the final chemical, careful not to let even a drop spill. When you finally completed the experiment, the mixture in the beaker turned the correct pale blue color, and you let out a shaky breath of relief.

“See?” Daniel said, flashing you a grin. “We nailed it.”

You gave him a tired look. “Barely.”

As Mr. Domzalski approached to check your work, you held your breath, praying there wasn’t some detail you’d overlooked. When he gave a curt nod of approval, you finally relaxed, though your nerves still felt frayed. Even then, you could feel Tim’s eyes on you, as if silently appraising every moment of your struggle.

The lab was over, but the stress lingered like a heavy weight on your shoulders. You packed up your materials with shaky hands, grateful to escape the pressure of both the experiment and the unrelenting scrutiny.

As the class wrapped up, Mr. Domzalski passed by your station, his sharp eyes flicking over the completed experiment. The pale blue liquid in the beaker must have been just right because, instead of his usual critical remarks, he gave a subtle nod and a quiet, “Good work.” The words weren’t overly enthusiastic, but coming from him—and especially with Tim Drake watching—it was as close to praise as you could get.

You felt a weight lift off your shoulders, and you let out a long sigh of relief. You and Daniel exchanged a look, his triumphant grin mirrored by the faintest smile you allowed yourself. You’d passed. Somehow, despite the foggy goggles, Daniel’s near-disasters, and the relentless pressure, you’d made it through the lab unscathed.

As you finished cleaning up, Mr. Domzalski gave you a brief, silent glance of thanks. It wasn’t much, but you knew what it meant: he was grateful you hadn’t turned today’s experiment into another headline-worthy incident. You nodded subtly back, grateful that the ordeal was over.

With the last of your equipment put away, you grabbed your bag and escaped the lab as quickly as possible, the weight of Tim’s lingering gaze finally lifting as you stepped into the hallway. Quinn was waiting by the door, chatting with Daniel, who was still buzzing with post-lab adrenaline.

“Well, looks like you didn’t burn down the school,” Quinn teased, grinning as she fell into step with you.

“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, rolling your eyes but smiling despite yourself. “We’re still alive, so I guess that’s a win.”

“Hey give us more credit.” Daniel chimed in, earning a laugh from both you and Quinn.

As the three of you headed for the stairs, you said goodbye to Daniel, who was heading to a different class. “See you later, guys.” he said, waving as he turned down another hallway.

You and Quinn made your way toward the gym for your seventh period, the final class of the day. The familiar chatter and clang of lockers greeted you as you stepped into the changing area. Gym wasn’t exactly your favorite class, but after the stress of the lab, it was almost a relief to have something physical to focus on instead of the constant mental strain.

“Think they’ll leave you alone for the day?” Quinn asked as you pulled on your gym shoes.

“I hope so,” you replied, your voice weary. “I can’t handle any more of this. It’s like they can’t even wait to-to…you know.”

Quinn grimaces. “Yeah, I know.” But she smiles back at you, as if tying to make you perk up. “Well, at least we’re doing dodgeball today, you should blow off some steam.”

You huff, amused. “Mm, maybe nailing Farah in the head with a dodgeball would do me some good.”

“Straight on bitch, that girl needs to be humbled.” Quinn says.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “At this point, I’ll take any excuse to hit something.”

The two of you stepped into the gym, the sound of sneakers squeaking on polished floors and the buzz of students warming up filling the air. It wasn’t the easiest day, but at least the end was finally in sight.

The day finally winds down as you head to the locker rooms to change. The smell of sweat and disinfectant fills the air as you and the other students shuffle to your lockers, exchanging the occasional half-hearted quip about how much of a drill sergeant Coach Walker was today. You change quickly, eager to escape the lingering humidity of the gym, and sling your bag over your shoulder just as the dismissal bell rings.

Joining the tide of students heading toward the front exit, you fall into step with Quinn, chatting idly about homework and plans for the weekend. The sprawling line of cars in the pick-up area is already forming, parents eager to whisk their kids away from the chaos of the school day.

Daniel spots you both as he weaves through the crowd toward his mom’s car, parked conveniently near the front of the line. “Guess that’s my ride,” he calls, swatting your shoulder playfully. “Try not to miss me too much tomorrow, I've got a doc's appointment.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Yeah, yeah, you wish asshole.”

“Later!” he shouts, hopping into the passenger seat of his mom’s car as it pulls away. You and Quinn wave after him before continuing toward the pick-up zone.

“Alfred here today?” Quinn asks, glancing around at the cars idling nearby.

“Probably not,” you reply with a shrug. “Haven’t heard from him, so it’s probably just me and the bike today.”

Quinn nods, her attention already shifting to a car pulling up in the distance. “Looks like my dad’s almost here.”

You glance toward the pickup area and spot the familiar vehicle inching closer. “Cool. Guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Yep. Don’t get mugged on the way home,” she jokes, smirking as she adjusts her backpack.

“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence,” you reply with a laugh. With a quick goodbye, you head toward the bike rack to unlock your trusty two-wheeler.

The quietness of the parking lot is a stark contrast to the noisy chaos of the day. You crouch down, fiddling with the combination lock on your bike, when a hulking shadow falls over you. The sudden shift in light is enough to make your instincts bristle, but you stay focused on the lock, rolling your eyes at the interruption.

“Bro, if you’re lookin’ to mug me,” you say without looking up, your tone flat and unamused, “you should know I’m skint broke. Try some other bitch.”

The air around you seems to thicken with tension, and you feel the unmistakable weight of someone’s gaze boring into you. It’s enough to make you pause mid-turn on the lock, your breath catching as a low, familiar voice responds.

“I sure hope you’re not talking to me?” Comes your father, Bruce’s, deep voice.

Your head snaps up, and your breath catches in your throat as you realize it’s not some wannabe punk standing over you.

You pale instantly, the color draining from your face as you meet his icy blue eyes. His expression is unreadable, but the weight of his gaze is suffocating. The sheer presence of him—imposing, cold, and unnervingly silent—makes your stomach churn with dread. Your heart pounds in your chest as you scramble for words, your brain tripping over itself in panic.

“Oh—uh, Mr. Wayne—I didn’t—I mean, I thought…” you stammer, trying to cobble together an explanation and an apology all at once. Your hands fumble with the lock on your bike, suddenly feeling clumsy under his scrutiny. “I—um—sorry! I thought—uh—someone else—”

He raises an eyebrow, the tiniest shift in his expression, but it’s enough to make you flinch. You straighten up, clutching your bike for dear life, feeling small and utterly exposed under his towering figure.

“I see,” he says finally, his voice calm but laced with that undercurrent of authority that makes it clear he’s not just seeing. He’s assessing.

“I didn’t realize it was you,” you blurt, trying to salvage what’s left of your dignity. “I thought it was, uh, someone else. Someone trying to—um—mug me?” The excuse sounds weak even to your own ears, and you wince inwardly at how ridiculous it must sound.

Bruce’s gaze doesn’t waver. “Do you make a habit of mouthing off to strangers you assume are threats?” he asks, his tone deceptively mild.

“N-no, sir,” you stammer, shaking your head quickly. “I just—I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s been a long day, and I wasn’t thinking—”

He holds up a hand, cutting off your rambling. “Enough,” he says, “I’m here to pick you up. Alfred’s occupied.”

Your mouth opens, then closes, as you try to process his words. You hadn’t even considered the possibility that Bruce might be the one picking you up today. Of course, the thought of him going out of his way to do so hadn’t even crossed your mind, it wasn’t like he ever went out of his way for you before.

“Oh,” you manage after an awkward pause. “Right. Thanks.”

You still have your conversation from the previous day in mind.

“Come on,” he says, turning without another word. “We’re leaving.”

You hastily shove your bike into the back of his sleek black car, your movements hurried and uncoordinated under the pressure of his presence. Sliding into the back seat, you notice Tim sitting in the front passenger seat, looking at you through the rear mirror. You avert your gaze, clasping your hands tightly in your lap, trying not to fidget as the engine purrs to life. The air inside the car is thick with silence, broken only by the occasional click of the turn signal as Bruce maneuvers through traffic.

You steal a glance at him, his expression as stoic and unreadable as ever. Despite the tension knotting your stomach, you force yourself to speak. “I—uh, thanks for picking me up,” you mumble, staring out the window.

Bruce doesn’t respond immediately, his eyes fixed on the road. When he finally speaks, his tone is even but firm. “We’ll talk when we get home.”

Your throat tightens when you see Tim's glee filled smile, as if a cat had just caught a canary. You nod mutely, knowing there’s no point in arguing. Whatever he has to say, it’s not going to be pleasant.

[Hope you guys liked the chapter!! I'm sorry for the delay and the ghosting, more fics will be updated trust!! Also thank you to all the people who were checking on me, I really appreciate it!!]

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chibikochannumberone · 6 months ago

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I’m crying 😭

When there's a sunrise,there's a sunset.

Birds of a feather we should stick together:3

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chibikochannumberone · 1 year ago

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I'll Never Meet Another You... - Part 1

・ Vox x Reader ・

📺〘 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰𝑰 〙📺

A/N: Is that...? Oh my god- It's the sound of another WIP in my endless void of fanfic ideas that managed to see the light of day!! It also means I've added another demon husband to my ✨cOlLeCtIoN✨

So, I'm definitely doing a continuation of this- I was having WAY too much fun writing it.

Enjoy your yandere, stalking, creepy-ass television man! :)

Posted to my A03 Account

. . .

Word Count: 1415 ⚠︎ TW/CW ⚠︎: Stalking, possessive behavior, yandere tv, obsession, etc. Song Recommendation: ꜱᴛᴀʟᴋᴇʀ'ꜱ ᴛᴀɴɢᴏ - ꜱʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ

. . .

Above the hue of blue-screened electronics, and the mindless slaves that couldn't go a select few hours without such solaces, there sat an Overlord, the infamously most level-headed yet prone to anger of the Vees.

And here he is, obsessing over an average Sinner demon, watching them like a cat attentively scrutinizes a ball of yarn.

. . .

______________________________________________________________

. . .

Electricity bounced across clawed, neon-blue fingertips as Vox’s collection of monitors booted up, lining the walls in a cyan-hued excess of the latest tech his company manufactured.

With but a wave of his hand, the devices were slaves to his command.

As Vox sat upon his electronic throne that was centered before it all, he closed every work-related tab within his mental browser, before slumping in his seat within the darkness. The demon rubbed where the bridge of his nose would’ve been with a stressed crease in his brows; a little habit that he had acquired from his life above.

To say it had been a long day would’ve been the understatement of the century. For the first twelve hours since he had emerged from his quarters, Vox had been bombarded with underlings shoving incessant workloads into his lap.

Ensuring the reputation of the Vees, the new VoxTech Angelic Security system that he had been developing, the countless amount of paperwork and maintaining the digital grid, and to top it all off, he had to manage the temper of one pissed-off Valentino.

Ugh... Fuckin' Val and his goddamn runaways... it's not my fucking fault he can't manage his toys.

Dealing with the lustful moth Overlord's temper tantrums were usually the absolute highlights of Vox's day, but this time in particular there was quite the treat in store for the overworked Overlord.

Hm... Maybe that's how the name came to be. Ah, who am I kidding? Velv just sits on her ass all day.

Of course, Vox pushed his indignation aside and swept everything up with a winning smile of pure showmanship, the pinnacle of excellence in front of the public.

And just as everything seemed to fall into place, like any other day of Vox cleaning up the messes of his fellow Overlords, something just had to go fucking wrong.

Imagine being the literal fucking backbone of the Vees, ensuring that their picture-perfect reputation of utmost excellence and being called up by an irritated Velvet to play babysitter and manage the man-child because of fucking Angel Dust-

And then catching wind of ḧ̴͇͕́̍i̷̡̹͋͂̓m̵͈͔̳̭̙̍͝ returning...

A few sparks flew from Vox's antenna as his overheated fans whirred rapidly. That old timey, triangle-assed p̴̲̩̮͙̜̎́̋r̸͓̟͆̀͆i̸̼͕͓̺̹̪̔͛͊̋͗c̸̢̤̐͂͜k̵̻̭̦̣̪͈̕-̸̢̡̪͇̖̈́...

Slowly, he took a deep breath, stretching his knuckles and tilting his head to the side with a deep frown. He had the evening to himself, now. No Radio-Pricks, no need to maintain the perfect facade he had so carefully crafted for himself and his allies, and no Valentino.

Time to unwind...

A cup of coffee materialized in his hand with a spark of electricity that lingered around his hand, dancing upon his fingers. He scooted just a bit closer to the large, main monitor within the center of TVs installed in his office, and his mental request was immediately answered by the large computer screen before him.

A zipped file containing possibly the most sensitive information that you couldn’t fucking torture out of the television demon happened to be the very first result of his search, almost teasing him with the overtness of his little obsession.

Vox clicked on the file quicker than ever before, and he took a long, slow sip of his drink as he focused solely upon the pretty little blessing that had graced his screens since a few months ago.

You were lounging on your couch, scrolling haphazardly on your phone in your less-than ideal apartment, but hey, it worked for you, so who was Vox to judge? Even if he would've placed you in one of the most mind-bogglingly extravagant penthouses that you'd ever seen in your afterlife, he had no qualms as long as you remained untouched.

And luckily, his position and occupation made it more than easy to ensure that you had no one in particular in mind to take his place.

No matter where you were, or what you were doing, nothing about you remained unseen by Vox, and no stone was left unturned when it came to your private life.

And Vox was always there. Watching. Adoring you through digitally enamored eyes without moving an inch from his seat.

Small, pixelated hearts floated across his interface as you looked through your phone, blessing him with a plethora of reactions. Whether it be with a small pout of your lips, to the furrow of your brows, to that cute giggle-snort you made whenever something seemed funny to you, the electronic Overlord drank it up like red wine from a golden cup glorified by gods themselves.

Lord, Vox had it bad.

Every step you took, every breath you inhaled, every purchase you made, every club or restaurant you went to, your exact order at your favorite diner, your taste in fashion and jewelry, he memorized every fact, photo, and video and saved it all in a private file.

It was Vox's most precious possession, the closest he could ever get to you, for now.

Vox’s smile stretched across his flat-screen face; a neon hue of razor-sharp teeth pulled into a fond simper as the sound of your chiming laughter rang out across his office.

How he wished to capture the sound, perhaps place it into a bottle for him, and only him to hear, your smile a treasure of the rarest quality to keep.

There was no doubt about it, Vox was your number one fan.

More monitors across the room lit up, whether it be with your beautiful face or your soft, angelic singing, there was nothing but you, you...

Y̵̼̜̿o̴̝͕̾ṷ̸̇.̶͈͍̎̔ ̵̟̒̚

Vox hated the idea of having to share this with anyone else. Share you with anyone else. Every time he ended the night like this, he had to fight the urge to steal you away and seat you upon your rightful place, a throne beside his, towering above his empire with no unworthy, sinful eyes to look upon you.

“Huh... I’ve actually always wondered what that ‘Vox’ guy is like in real life...” said demon froze at the sound of his name pouring from your lips, and a soft blush mixed with the bright blue glow of his face, coloring it a light lavender pink. You were talking to yourself again, something Vox binged like a talk show whenever he was off work.

He could watch you all day like this. And God knows that he would massacre any number of demons, conquer any area of territory simply for a few minutes in your presence.

A casual conversation, witty banter, fuck, he'd rather talk about the goddamn weather with you than be deprived of your presence any longer. Not behind a screen, but in person.

Vox needed something, anything with you, romantic or platonic, though the former would surely grow an insatiable craving, if you kept teasing him like this.

He needed you to be there for him, to just treat him like a person.

Vox normally wouldn't mind the fact that he was always perfecting himself for others, catering to their every desire. A machine. Meant to serve the masses, and in turn, they'd fall to their feet before him like flies to honey, insatiable, pathetic worms.

But it'd drive anyone to the brink of fucking insanity, to keep up the same, cheery yet suave charade every draining day.

And with you? Even if you never knew about your secret admirer’s ever-prying eyes watching your every step, it felt like Vox didn't need to put on a show for you. He could simply watch and listen as you, sweet, mischievous, lovable you talked his ears off for the rest of his day.

What I'd give to just kiss the hell out of her-

“Heh, he’s actually kind of cute. Y’know, for a TV, I guess...” you giggled at the end of your sentence as you scrolled through more photos of him, drinking up every piece of content that featured the demon that was watching you through your camera.

A little side-menu of exactly what you had been looking through immediately popped up, and an intense zapping noise from above signaled to Vox that, once again, the demon was two seconds away from overheating and having to reboot himself as he nearly spit out his hot drink.

Vox nearly short-circuited in his seat as you smiled warmly down at your phone, directly into his eyes as his cold, mechanical heart pounded in his chest, and bright red spread across his screen like a virus.

“Oh... Ohoho...”

“Now that’s good television...”

. . .

______________________________________________________________

End Notes: Ok, holy SHIT-

I really like this one. Like GODDAMN this was so fun to write!! I'll definitely be doing headcanons for yandere Hazbin Hotel very soon. Also, that A03 shit I just pulled at the end? You're welcome ;)

Btw I'm working on my Masterlist, so if anyone has requests or drabbles that they'd like to enter, don't be afraid to ask! I think I'll make some rules clear later, like no EXTREME asks or kinks or anything like that.

Smut is on the table though don't be afraid lmao. I'll be the one shaking in my boots when I'm about to post it- 😓

Anyway, thanks for reading!! See you next time✨

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chibikochannumberone · 2 years ago

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Demon Slayer/Kimetsu No Yaiba

Miscommunication [Yan!Upper moons + Muzan x Fem!Reader] - ask 1 - ask 2 - ask 3 - ask 4 - ask 5 - ask 6 - ask 7 - ask 8 - art <3

Incorrect quotes

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chibikochannumberone · 2 years ago

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Abundance (XX)

— summary: You never expected that you would end up adopting a hybrid, and if someone had told you that you would end up with seven? Well, you would have thought they were crazy. But here you are, with three different packs of hybrids that don’t get along – but all want to stay with you. Yeah, it turns out crazy is an understatement. — pairing: hybrid bts x human f!reader — genre: fluff, angst, smut — warnings/content: none — word count: 6.5k

Masterlist / Previous chapter / Next chapter

Early access to chapter 21 can be found in the author’s note at the end!

You fix the last button on your blouse in place as you walk downstairs, feet bouncing with a little more pep than usual.

Even if you’re waking up before the sun and have hours of gruelling work ahead of you, spending the weekend with the boys has left you feeling refreshed. It was a much needed break to help restore your dwindling morale and a good reminder of why you put yourself through this in the first place.

Skipping over the last step of the staircase, you turn to head towards the kitchen, more than ready to kickstart your brain with the help of a cup of coffee.

You startle, almost tripping over your own feet, when the downstairs bathroom door flies open just as you’re about to walk past it.

A dripping Namjoon steps into your path, his naked chest and arms on full display, droplets clinging to his sunkissed skin. He has a towel draped over his head, obstructing his vision as he roughly tries to dry up the back of his head.

You watch, mouth dry, as the motion causes one of the droplets to slide from his collarbone down over the smooth expanse of his torso, only stopping when it hits the sweatpants hung low on his hips.

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chibikochannumberone · 2 years ago

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Yandere! Batfam x Reader

Batfam x reader or Batfam/reader

Yandere Batfam x reader or Yandere Batfam/reader

Word count: 8639 words

TW: GN reader, adult Damian Wayne, mentions drugs, yandere, neglect, angst and kidnapping.

You were Bruce’s youngest child, a year younger than Damian and several years younger than the rest. You were simply the result of a hookup on one of Bruce’s many business trips, it might’ve been to Europe, Africa, Asia, Australia or even just somewhere else in America. The point is, you didn’t grow up in Gotham until the age of thirteen when your mother died in a violent car crash, one in which you had also been involved.

You had sat for hours in the backseat, slowly seeing your mother’s life drain from her eyes as the fire brigade did their best to cut their way into the car. It had all been for nought though, with her dying before the paramedics even arrived. You were physically fine except for some deep cuts and bruises, but your mother’s abdomen had been pierced as a drunk driver of a flatbed lorry carrying steel poles had backed violently into your car, sending the metal sticks flying straight towards your vehicle. One of the poles had gone through the window and hit your mother. It was a gruesome sight, so vile that you threw up several times as you were hauled out of the wreck.

Legally, you were supposed to go to your father, even if your mother’s parents, possible siblings or someone else were willing to take you, the law demanded that it’d be your father who took you. Bruce had signed your birth certificate, he wasn’t unaware of your existence, and he had since your birth sent monthly child support to your mother, but that was all you really were to him up until that point; A negligible extra expense.

It wasn’t that Bruce disliked you when you came to the manor. You were simply a scared kid who had just lost their mother and was deeply grieving. He had dealt with plenty of those. He had just been busy… He obviously had his obligations as Bruce Wayne: CEO duties, public image and bundles of paperwork, but it was more so his obligations as Batman and to his other children, which pulled him away from you when you first came into his home. Damian, especially, took up most of his time. Not only did the two of them constantly train for protecting the city, thus developing a closer bond than you’d ever have with either of them, but Bruce was also very aware of how Damian’s childhood at the league weighed down on him mentally, so, he kept him close, let him vent his frustrations and slowly but surely get over his trauma.

From the very beginning, you became the forgotten child:

Dick was always so focused on Damian, singing his praises and always taking care of him. He usually forgot to even greet you whenever he visited the manor for a week or two, often going “Oh! I haven’t seen you all this time! Well, bye to you too Y/n”, whenever he left. Whenever the oldest brother was visiting, you’d stand in the doorway to the living room, observing with stinging eyes as he embraced Damian like the boy mattered more than the entire world. You had forgotten how it felt to actually matter that much to someone. You wondered if you ever had. Why you tortured yourself with watching the two, you didn’t know, perhaps because you longed to be in Damian’s position? You weren’t even sure yourself. The reason probably didn’t matter, as your forced your eyes to stay on the two, only leaving when you could feel silent tears run down your cheeks.

Jason was the friendliest, not particularly caring for Damian and Bruce either, often calling the green-eyed boy “Demonspawn”, which you’d laugh loudly at, only to be sent to your room by Bruce for upsetting Damian. Jason understood though, usually going to your room to hang out with you and listen to your stories, unlike everyone else. He came to adore you. Damian might’ve been Dick’s favourite sibling, but you were Jason’s. Since Damian was called “Babybird”, Jason called you “Tiny tweet”, even though you didn’t hold the title of Robin. You loved the times when Jason was there, he made you finally feel understood and heard. Unfortunately, Jason was at the manor even less than Dick, (who spent 90% of his time in Blüdhaven), since he couldn’t stand the sight of Bruce for longer than an hour every other month. So, the brief moments of reprieve the second oldest offered were few and far between, still leaving you isolated most of the time.

Tim barely spared you a glance, too busy with his own school, vigilantism and friends. He appreciated that you weren’t annoying like Damian, who’d constantly attack him, thus automatically bringing you above the little devil on Tim’s tier list of family members… however, Damian was at the very bottom, which didn’t make it a great achievement. If you ever tried to converse with Tim, he’d dismiss you with a wave of his long bony hand, telling you to find someone else to chit-chat with. You stopped your attempts at befriending the middle child after a handful of unsuccessful tries, barely seeing him after that. As a matter of fact, whenever you tried to visualise a picture of Tim, it was the image of his slim dismissive hand which appeared. You had forgotten if his hair was black or dark brown, if his eyes were light blue or grey or if his nose had a bump or not. He bordered on becoming a personal myth to you; You knew he existed in a far-off world, but he wasn’t within your orbit.

Damian was at first fearful that you’d take his place, bullying you, physically harassing you and bringing up your mother until you were left wailing on the floor. When you told Bruce though he’d always tell you to, “Be the bigger person, Damian has been through a lot”. You wished you could have fought against your youngest brother, but not only was he older and stronger than you, but he was also a trained assassin and vigilante. You stood no chance. When Damian realised that you were no threat to his position, he left you alone, avoiding talking to you and interacting with you on the basis that you simply didn’t matter to him. He had actually once accidentally told a teacher that he only had three siblings, not realising that he had forgotten about you until he was on his way home, replaying the conversation in his head. Damian might’ve once tried to become closer to you after Alfred had given him a long spiel about how “family is important”, but quickly realised that you trusted him less than the thieves in Crime Alley, and so he abandoned the idea.

Bruce didn’t mean to ignore you, it was purely accidental, but he had on multiple occasions forgotten your birthday and even once failed to remember buying you any Christmas presents, leaving you as the only Wayne child with no gifts that year, to which you had simply muttered something along the lines of, “Of course”, not in a vengeful or angry way, instead in a resigned and understanding tone, before going back to your room that night and not leaving until a day or two later. Alfred had scolded him for that occurrence, there wasn’t really anything he could’ve said in his defence and even Dick had looked at him with disgust as they all took in the image of you standing there, alone, surrounded by gifts that weren’t for you. It had been a striking visual, yet not enough to make Bruce change his ways. It wasn’t that he held any animosity towards you, you were simply just air to him, he had no idea where you were at any given time or who you were, sometimes he even forgot your face.

Alfred was a kind man, an understanding man. However, just like Bruce, he also had others to worry about, and the more isolated you became in your behaviour, the less able he was to spend time with you. Not only that, but he also refused to hear you talk badly of any of your brothers, and even Bruce was off the table if you felt like complaining. Alfred was a sweet and patient man, but to you it felt as if he had lost the plot, as if he didn’t understand how badly you were treated, because his love for the others blinded him, making him an unfortunate enabler of your torment. Alfred was only really good for giving you a biscuit/cookie when you sat in the kitchen, apathetically staring into a wall, for venting your frustrations, however? He was useless.

Your father neglected to handle your trauma. However, somehow, in his messed up brain, he reasoned that any trauma which was vigilante-related could somehow be considered worse as it was on a much larger scale than a single individual losing their mother. This made you grow resentful of both Damian and your father, the careful way Bruce would adapt everything to fit Damian’s wants and needs, disregarding yours, slowly lit a fire within you, a fire which burned with hatred towards them both.

I could see you wanting to join the vigilante life when you’re perhaps fifteen. You had watched the others train for years and would often sneak into the bat cave after dark to train yourself. You were good, really good, so you decided that you might as well start doing actual vigilante work. You did realise that you hadn’t quite reached a fighting level where that’d be a good idea, so you decided to find a more seasoned mentor. A slight detail, which would become important. Your father didn’t have the time to teach you. So who did you call up? That’s right! Jason.

Jason was reluctant to take you under his wing, at first. He even came to the manor to convince you that vigilantism wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. However, after pouring your bleeding heart out to the only brother who cared, he accepted, still apprehensive though.

Jason started his training from the top, getting into the basics swiftly. You got it down faster than he had at first thought, being an astoundingly quick-learner, something which the red-masked vigilante attributed to having Wayne blood in your veins. After locking down all the groundwork within a year or so, it was time to start your specialisation; Choice of weapons, fighting style and general tactics were all next. While training with Jason, you slowly moved into the spare room in his apartment. It wasn’t like you had a bunch of things to move, but what little you had, Jason helped transport from the manor to his primary safehouse.

When Jason considered you ready, you started working as his shadow sidekick. Never known by the vigilante community at large, but definitely a secret menace to Gotham’s criminals. Jason did a good job of keeping your vigilantism a secret After your first three years of training, you completely stopped visiting the manor, even on holidays. You were technically a legal adult now and felt no obligation to stick around a house whose inhabitants had made it clear that you were unwelcome.

No one except Alfred knew that you had completely left for the first long while, with him being the only one you had bid farewell to. The old butler refused to tell Bruce until the man noticed himself. That day would come approximately four months after you stopped coming to the manor, on Christmas eve:

Damian had been the one to notice your absence secondly, after Alfred. He commented on it during the Christmas family dinner, one which Bruce only held for his sons' sakes, and where the only two not attending were Jason and you. Even Dick was there, on a visit from Blüdhaven, spry and jolly around his favourite younger sibling. Damian.

“Where’s L/N?” The green-eyed man had questioned loudly. Silence followed. Bruce took a look around, you weren’t there. They all knew that Jason wouldn’t be attending, he had declined Bruce’s requests every year since his resurrection, instead opting to go to Roy’s place. A lump formed in Bruce’s throat, yet he didn’t know why. “Damian, can you go get them down? They probably didn’t hear that dinner was served”, Dick requested kindly with a smile on his lips. The man in question would’ve usually complained, but since it was his eldest brother who asked, he got up wordlessly. Conversation at the table resumed, with Alfred biting his lips in contemplation. ‘Should he have informed Bruce of your absence, even though he knew you were at Jason’s?’ ‘Perhaps’, he concluded, deciding to keep silent about the whole matter, it was unfair to you. You had moved on, and even if he missed you terribly, it was not his place to demand your return. A piercing “What!” Stopped all the chatter at the table. Damian came barrelling back into the dining room, grabbing the side of the door with a tight knuckle to stabilise himself. “Their room is completely empty! All their stuff is gone! The only things left are the bed and closet!”

Bruce had stood up immediately, his chair colliding with the ground behind him as he brushed by Damian, entering your room, his son had been right. Your room was empty. None of the posters you had brought with you from your life with your mother, no papers lying scattered around and no other signs of use. As Bruce looked closer at the remaining furniture, he found that a thick layer of dust coated every surface. The room was as empty as when you arrived as a child and something in Bruce’s stomach dropped. “Y/n!” He called out. No reply. Soon, the entire manor was looking for you, even Alfred pretended to do so as well, his guilt of knowing eating him up from the inside. None of them found you, you had vanished without a trace.

Somehow, your perceived disappearance became the thing to snap your family’s collective consciousness. All hyped up by each other’s worry and driven into a frenzy. Bruce believed that you had gotten kidnapped or ran away, and it scared him. The thought of his negligence having brought you to extremes was like a spear through his heart, switching something on in his brain. He ordered his available sons to scour the entire city of Gotham to find you, completely forgetting about Christmas and leaving only Alfred behind to stay at the manor, in case you returned on your own. Bruce also ensured that most rooms in the manor were lit, like a lighthouse showing you home. Meanwhile, you and Jason were celebrating the holidays at Roy’s place in Star City, oblivious to what was taking place in all the major cities. You were playing with Lian as the two men chatted about old times and the poor quality of the beer they were drinking; Roy had let you two stay for a few days, so Jason could properly enjoy the festivities without thinking of his alcohol percentage as he was the designated driver. None of you had any idea of the ruckus going on only a few cities away.

It was after this Christmas that the family changed irreversibly. Suddenly, your safety became their top priority. Spear-headed by Bruce, who had a borderline existential crisis as he believed there was an equal chance of you being dead in a ditch somewhere and you being tortured by some rogue. Bruce was overtaken by guilt and challenged this feeling into pure rage as he beat up henchmen and rogues within an inch of their lives, believing them to have somehow connected you to Batman. They hadn’t and were entirely unaware of why the bat was so obsessed with this one person. Were you perhaps vital in an ongoing detective case? Or did Bruce Wayne tip him off to be extra vigilant when finding his youngest? They had no clue.

Well, obviously, Christmas was ruined. When all of the batboys and their father returned home empty-handed, they were in no mood for celebrations. Tim simply sat in a chair, lamenting, as he stared into a wall with something akin to resignation, running calculations in his head of where you could have possibly gone, before heading for the cave to view the security footage as far back as he had stored. Bruce and Damian refused to simply stop looking for the night, not staying long at the manor before they started searching other cities, making some of their vigilante friends aware of the situation. After staying in the nearest bathroom, and regaining control of his emotions, Dick joined his youngest brother and father in their quest for searching other cities. Bruce went to Metropolis, Damian to Central City and Dick to Blüdhaven. They had planned that they would each scour a city tonight and one the night after, it would be impossible to find you during the day, as there were way too many people wandering the streets. Alfred still remained silent, he didn’t think it was fair of them to bring you back, not with the way they had treated you and not when you had clearly left of your own volition.

Bruce had informed his closest friend, Clark Kent, of your disappearance, with the alien immediately insisting on aiding in the search. “It’ll be quicker if we both look at the same time!” Clark had yelled determined through the phone, his southern drawl helping to calm Bruce’s nerves, if only slightly. That was how not only Batman but also Superman started patrolling the streets of Metropolis, in search of a single person, you. Jon too wanted to aid in the search and offered Damian to take over looking in Central city, so he could look somewhere else instead, thus covering more ground, Damian agreed and went to Coast city.

As the news spread to the citizens of these cities that the Supers and the Bats had teamed up to look for one of Bruce Wayne’s missing kids, it became the talk of everyone’s dinner tables. News channels ran multiple stories about it, despite it being Christmas, being hyped up in no small part thanks to Lois Lane, whose heart went out to the Waynes for losing someone so close to them. The story had slowly morphed from you having run away voluntarily, to you having been kidnapped as a ransom. Everyone who heard of your story believed it to be a tragedy committed by someone who couldn’t even hold up the sanctity of the holiday spirits.

Back at home, Tim reviewed all of the security footage and went as far back as four months, that was when he saw you exit the manor with multiple boxes in your arms, loading them into a red lorry. He kept looking at you walking back and forth for a while until a well-known presence stepped out of the vehicle. Jason. Tim stood still, you hadn’t just moved out of the manor, you had moved in with Jason. You had moved in with the second oldest brother, and neither of you had bothered to inform anyone! Tim seethed, he wasn’t mad at you, no, he could never be. But Jason, the mere thought of him now made Tim’s blood boil. He believed that his brother had borderline kidnapped you away from them. His ire intensified when he saw Jason enter the manor and come out with more of your stuff packed into boxes. That was enough evidence for Tim to conclude that Jason must’ve forced you to move out, that it really hadn’t been your choice at all… Skillfully ignoring how none of the people in the manor had ever given you a reason to stay, let alone noticed that you had been gone for over four months.

However, knowing that you were with Jason made him able to conclude that you were likely in one of his safehouses or spending your Christmas with his best friend Roy, those two were inseparable, after all. He decided that he would look through Jason’s safe houses, then he called up Damian, “Go to Roy Harper’s place and look for Y/n. They’re with Jason.” Tim’s voice was dark, foreboding and it even made Damian’s hairs stand straight. Truly the stuff of nightmares. Tim explained the situation to both Dick and Bruce afterwards, as he glided through the air from safe house to safe house. Letting the two know that he had sent Damian after you and that they could come home now. Even if Tim currently held the desire to puncture Jason’s lungs for taking you away from them… away from him, he knew his older brother would never let anything happen to you. You were weak in his mind, and in the rest of the family’s mind too. Perhaps they would’ve worried less if they knew of your vigilante training… or maybe not. Vigilantism is dangerous, after all.

When Roy had turned on the TV briefly, you had all been bombarded with news of your disappearance. Your apathetic face from your last high school photo was plastered on every news network, big and small. News of an all-out search party with multiple vigilantes involved was outlined in great detail. Both Jason and you looked at each other with a mix of concern and confusion. It had been four months since you had last been at the manor, Alfred knew of your departure, what were they doing?! Lian had thankfully been put to bed, none of you wanted her to view the panic that crossed all three of your faces. “What the heck are they up to?” Roy questioned no one in particular. “It’s probably a façade, someone might have noticed that ‘Bruce Wayne’ was down one child and now he needs to find me to assure them that I’m not dead. It wouldn’t be a good look to have multiple children die in your custody. No offence Jay”, you postulated, it was a far reach but still the best explanation you could come up with. Jason had agreed with your assessment, giving you a light smack to the back of your head for mentioning his death. He wasn’t mad, but he always joked that it was a sensitive subject.

The three of you tried to come up with solutions to the problem at hand when you were interrupted by an impatient knock on the door. “I’ll get it”, Roy muttered. Making his way out of the living room, where you had previously stood, and towards the entrance. The moment he turned the lock, the door was swung open by whoever was on the other side, the wooden frame just barely missing Roy’s face. Heavy footsteps made their way towards the living room. Roy barely had the time to realise who it was before they were gone, striding towards where you were.

“Damian?!” You exclaimed, confused. The green-eyed man stood in front of both Jason and you, wearing his full Robin costume. You wondered how he had gotten here so quickly, the news mentioned how he’d been to both Central City and Coast City, both were relatively far away from your current location. “I’ve come to take you home, Y/n. We have been worried for your safety and I see that Todd took full advantage of your little outburst.” Damian’s voice was spiteful, Tim had managed to fuel his ever-latent anger and direct it towards Jason. You tried to rebuke your youngest brother, but Jason stepped in front of you, ready to defend you against the green-eyed menace, “As if! They’re not going back with you, just to end up being ignored by everyone again! Just because Bruce needs his public image to be clean, doesn’t make it their problem! So run along, Demonspawn!” Damian did not take well to refusal, let alone Jason’s uncalled-for name-calling.

Damian marched past the taller man and straight towards you. As he tried to grab your forearm, he was thwarted as you defended yourself, blocking his arm and throwing him to the ground. Damian was shocked and Jason was grinning like a proud father. Roy came strolling in at the same time, having checked on Lian’s safety, no problems there. “What did you teach them?!” Damian screamed at Jason, blaming him for your newfound strength. “Everything, they’re a vigilante. I’m not gonna send them out on the streets without knowing how to defend themselves.” The second oldest brother swung an arm around your shoulders as you stood still, giving Damian a look that promised nothing good.

Well, this was unacceptable to Damian, who had silently called for reinforcement, filming your entire interaction so far on a gadget connected to his chest plate. When Bruce heard Jason’s words, he felt yet another stone sink to the bottom of his abdomen, he had let you become a vigilante, his little Y/n… No, this would not do. All of them agreed on this. Once they had you again, they all decided that anything vigilante-related would be kept out of your reach. While both Dick and Bruce were flattered that you’d share a career path with them, they could not accept the danger it brought you in.

It didn’t take long for Damian’s request to be honoured, as Bruce and the boys took a zeta tube to Star City and immediately went to Roy’s. It took no more than twenty minutes, with Damian engaging in a violent screaming match with Jason, accusing him of kidnapping you, of forcing you to play his mock Robin just to spite your shared father and of many more heinous crimes, which the green-eyed man covered your ears for, despite your attempts to get him to stop touching you. When a barrage of impatient knocks sounded on Roy’s door for the second time, he didn’t open it. Instead, he opted for locking Lian’s bedroom door and grabbing his bow as well as a handful of arrows, which he had reverse-engineered from Oliver’s original ones, aiming one at the entrance.

Of course, none of the dark-haired men on the other side waited for Roy to feel charitable enough to invite them into his home, as Dick harshly kicked the door in, wooden splinters spreading across the entrance hall’s floor. “What the hell are you doing in my home!” Roy screamed, hoping it wouldn’t wake up Lian. His bow was still pulled tight, an arrow aimed at the newcomers as a threat to not tread further into his flat. “Calm down, speedy. I will replace your door. I’m here to bring my youngest home”, Bruce muttered as he tried to enter the living room, only to be stopped by an arrow flying just past his nose. “Do not take another step. You are intruders”, Roy seethed, orange strands of hair swaying in the air as he made his way in front of the bat trio of Dick, Tim and Bruce.

Bruce was almost surprised by Roy's violent reaction. Almost. He was obviously quite aware of the redhead’s close bond with his second oldest, who had in turn evidently been closer to you than he had ever thought. You had moved in together, after all. Bruce did not blame Jason like Damian and Tim, instead, he simply saw it as an accentuation of his own failings as a father. Still, it was a very serious action to threaten the Batman, the very implications of which stunted both Bruce and Tim for just a moment. Dick wasn’t, however, immediately turning on his trusted secret weapon, skilful manipulation.

With slow steps, Dick managed to get right in front of the archer, putting a caring hand on his shoulder. “Roy. Surely, as a father, you of all people must understand why Bruce wants his child back. Y/n and he needs to mend their relationship. For Y/n. Imagine how they’ll feel years in the future when they have no father to turn to? They have the chance to get a real security net, something which I know you always wanted at their age. Surely, you must realise that just you and Jason can’t be enough… Not to go into too much detail, but the two of you haven’t been known to be the most… how would you put it… reliable? Stable? …clean?” Dick’s mention of Roy’s former substance problems broke his initial apprehension. Between Jason, you and him, it was a topic that was never mentioned, it brought back doubts and was probably his second biggest insecurity, his biggest one being… “Imagine if Y/n was Lian? You would want her to have a father, wouldn’t you? Of course, you do! That’s why you stayed. Y/n needs a father too, and not just that they need all of their brothers at their side, Jason can’t stand in for a father. Surely, you would know.” Dick continued. It was a dirty trick to mention Lian, but it worked as Roy lowered his bow, stepping aside for the Waynes to enter the room where Damian and Jason were currently in a screaming match.

Once Jason saw his other brothers and Bruce, he ripped you away from Damian and tried to push past them, holding your hand protectively and tight. It didn’t work, however, as Tim was quick to stun his older brother with a taser, right after Dick had tugged you securely into his latex-covered chest. You didn’t quite know what happened after that, Dick pried your lips and teeth apart, dropping a little round tablet on your tongue, before immediately shifting his hand to cover both your mouth and nose. Shifting the pill around in your mouth to not swallow it, while you tried to kick him away, did absolutely nothing. Dick was stronger and a greater fighter than you’d ever be, your attempts at resistance were little more to Dick than a cat scratching his arms. The blue-eyed man held you close with his free arm, gently cooing supportive reassurances as the pill melted in your cheeks, bitter and promising a nightmare when you woke up.

When your eyes opened again, you were laying in your old bed at Wayne manor. The window had been covered up with thick metal bars, spread no more apart than half of your head’s size. Much of your old stuff, which you had brought to Jason’s primary safe house, was back. They were nowhere near where you had put them when you lived here previously, a testament to how little whoever had reinstated your items actually knew about you. Sitting up, you found that your old cotton bedding had been changed for what you assumed to be silk, it was weirdly soft and you didn’t enjoy it in the slightest. Your duvet was a deep shade of green with golden accents, and you immediately knew who was responsible for the change. Damian. Perhaps he was even the one who had moved all your old stuff back. Their methodical placement, with very few items not lining the wall, certainly looked like how Damian had decorated his own room.

A large red box, filled with all your old clothes, as well as a bunch of new items stood in the middle of your room. You ignored it as you swung your legs over the side of the bed, trying to stand up only to find that your vision was double-crossed and your breaths shallow, you were dizzy beyond measure and your head pounded like mad, not to mention the coating of glistening sweat, which made you feel gross just being in your own body. What in the world had Dick given you?

Still, you attempted to move to the door, even if you realised you couldn’t stand up without fainting on the spot. Grasping your mattress tightly with both hands, you gently lowered yourself to the cold floor. Moving your legs under you, you managed to sit on your knees. Leaning forward, you took the fall with your palms, now standing on all fours. You hoped no one would ever see you in this state, it was humiliating not being able to move about as you normally did, but you had to get out or at least try. You had no idea what your father and brothers wanted with you, but you had a feeling it was nothing good.

Sliding your shins forward and following the motion with your hands, you slowly made your way towards the door. Raising a hand to the knob, you were surprised when the door swung open by itself. In the door stood Tim, warm towels in his arms. “Ah! I saw on the camera feed that you were awake! I thought you might enjoy some pampering.” A beat of silence rang out as you met Tim’s eyes, pale blue like a summer sky. You almost impressed yourself as you jumped forward, drilling the top of your head into his knees, making the lanky man fall to the ground with a grunt, as you tried to crawl away as quickly as possible. Tim was quick to get back on his feet, running after you, but you had already reached the closest stairs leading down. It only took one look down the long wooden construction to realise what you had to do, even if it would hurt more than anything. Tim realised what you were trying as he saw your shifty eyes cast a sideways glance down the steps.

“Y/n! Don’t you dare!” You didn’t let him finish as you closed your eyes and leaned to the side, starting to roll down the steps… or at least you would have, had it not been for the iron grip on your forearm. At first, you believed it to be Tim, but as you started to struggle, you realised that the hold was too tight and the hand too strong. Cracking open an eye, you could feel your heart sink into your stomach. Damian. Somehow, your youngest brother was the scariest one. The others were always ambivalent to your presence, but Damian had been openly hostile to you in your youth, oftentimes attacking you verbally or physically, and you didn’t doubt he could be violent towards you again. “What are you doing, Y/n?” His voice was no-nonsense, yet his eyes were soft. A strange dichotomy. “Getting away from you psychos”, you mumbled coldly, your throat was dry and the urge to cough arose as you spoke. The green-eyed man looked pensive, a tick in his jaw betrayed how he was trying to hold in his anger. He didn’t bother answering your insult, instead, he slung you onto his back and made his way back to your room, sneering at Tim when the two passed each other. Once back in your room, Damian held you down on the bed by your wrists, as he sat next to you. A general meeting was called, involving everyone in the family, except Jason, whom you had no clue where had gone.

Bruce had arrived almost immediately, with Dick prancing in not too long after. You weren’t sure what they wanted from you, assuming this was all to save Bruce’s public image, but even if that wasn’t the reason, you were sure that it was nothing good. They had all shown up on Christmas just to take you away from the only people you considered close friends and family. No one with good intentions would do something like that. As soon as the offending Waynes had all arrived, you spat out for them to announce the purpose of your kidnapping immediately. Both Bruce and Dick seemed disturbed by you titling their actions as a kidnapping. With the latter trying to defend it as being more of an obligatory change of scenery. It didn’t work, and you waited for someone to give you a proper answer with a deadpan. Damian had loosened his grip on you as the others arrived and all sat at the edge of the bed, surrounding you and making sure that you no longer had any possibility of escaping. It was claustrophobic and ominous.

Bruce was the one to explain that they had all led you back home to build the relationships, which you had all been deprived of in your younger years, expressing his regret and familial love for you, something which was echoed by the other men in the room. You were unconvinced. Telling them to drop the act and just tell you the real reason already, exclaiming how you didn’t have time to play charades with them. No matter how much they tried to convince you of their sincerity, you would have none of it, throwing their past actions in their face as proof of their dishonourable underlying motives. The meeting adjourned with no real progress made, other than the four of them deciding that you would be a danger to yourself if left alone and, therefore, making a schedule of when each of them would be by your side.

Bruce was shocked at your inability to believe in their love for you, his guilt multiplying by a hundred as he realised how untrusting you had become of your own family. He realised that he was to blame, attempting to grasp your hand, so small compared to his. Yet, when his fingers came close to yours, you jerked away, sending him a stare filled with nothing but disgust and hatred. He swore to change this, to do anything in his power to turn you to the truth of your family’s love for you, his love for you, his youngest child. The one he had almost let slip away.

Dick was heartbroken, he had truly believed that when they revealed their regret, you’d accept them back into your life with open arms. At your apprehension, the acrobat felt as if he was brought right back to when his parents died. Once again feeling his family slip through his fingers. However, this time, he was no longer the innocent bystander, who had done nothing to deserve the situation. No, this time he felt just like the man who had cut the robes of his parents’ trapeze. He had been the one who sabotaged his relationship with you. Still, he refused to let that be how the two of you would part ways. No. He deserved a second chance, he was your brother, after all. Family doesn’t just split with each other because of misunderstandings. He promised you and himself that he would not let it end like this. The two of you would become just as close as he and Damian, no matter how long it’d take. Dick could wait... No, he couldn't.

Tim blamed Jason for your sudden unwillingness to trust their intentions. Not even giving their prior neglect any thought. It was funny how he had practically worshipped Jason when he was younger, but now? Now, he blamed Jason for having corrupted your mind. Tim had completely turned around the memories of you attempting to communicate with him when you were younger. Instead of him telling you to scram every time you walked into his room to talk, he had deluded his own mind into thinking that he used to welcome you with open arms. Certain memories of Conner and him playing video games for hours on end were changed into the two of you doing the very same. He did not blame you for your hesitance, he preferred to solely, yet delusionally, place the entire blame on Jason. The ex-Robin, who had once been Tim’s biggest idol, had now turned into his greatest enemy. The way he so readily placed the blame on someone else spoke volumes about his lack of awareness when it came to your lucidity. He was sure that he could turn your mind ‘right’, by that he, of course, meant, ‘make you believe his version of events’. Tim’s delusional memories might’ve started off as just a plan to manipulate you, but they almost immediately turned into his own perceived truth. Anything to place the blame on Jason and not himself.

While Damian also disliked Jason like Tim, he was nowhere near delusional. He was highly lucid and entirely aware that, yes, they had all treated you like you were nothing more than a nuisance. Yes, you were probably well within your right to deny them any affection or chances. Yes, their new-found obsession with your love had become unhealthy and guilt-ridden, and it was certainly to your detriment. However, Damian had always been selfish and spoiled, two traits of his that he was aware of, yet couldn’t find it within himself to change. He was brought up as a prince his entire life, first as the heir to Eth Alth'eban and then as the unofficial prince of Gotham. There had never been anything he wanted that he didn’t get, and he knew that you would be no different. He was loyal to any cause he set his mind to and now, you would be it. No matter how much you’d fight, he was willing to keep his course. It was better for the both of you, he would get to enjoy your presence, and hopefully your care, while you’d be protected from any and all harm. Damian would give you the world if you asked, literally, so he saw no reason why he couldn’t demand your affection.

After your initial shock at the kidnapping subsided, you came to realise that your family’s newfound care had nothing to do with their public image, but rather some psychotic break in their mentality. Their affections turned clingy and you slowly started to feel a sense of hopelessness. They never let you be alone and they were so demanding of your affections.

Dick was especially bad in that regard, forcing you to cuddle and be physically affectionate, even if you showed an aversion to physical touch. He didn’t understand why you wouldn’t want to be close with your eldest brother, which meant he lent you little to no understanding in regards to any lack in the enjoyment of his company. Bruce never stopped Dick, always excusing his overly affectionate demeanour and encouraging you to do the same. Dick would in general be very open and clingy in his affection, barely letting you leave the couch or bed so that he could just encase himself around you like plastic wrap, rubbing your cheeks together and otherwise holding onto you tightly. It would really just be a way for him to make sure yiu were still there, that you weren’t missing like the night they brought you back. It really changed him deeply. Dick would also likely move back into the manor, much to everyone’s, except you, delight. That way he could be near you more often and better follow the observation schedule that they set up.

Bruce himself was much more willing to let you have your space, but there were certain things which he demanded, like you calling him dad, or at least father, or you eating your meals next to him. The eating arrangements always put you between Bruce and Damian, across from Dick. If that wasn’t bad enough, Bruce also enjoyed watching you eat, feeling a sense of fulfilment as he ensured that you stayed safe and sound. Of course, Bruce had cut you out of vigilante life completely, and if it had been solely up to him, he would’ve wrapped you in bubble wrap and kept you by his and your brothers’ sides forever. However, he realised that bubble wrap might be uncomfortable and probably wasn’t a very breathable material for your skin, so he did the next best thing. He made sure that you were constantly provided for, as well as spoiled beyond measure, giving you any gift that he thought you could possibly enjoy. It was, in a way, his way of giving you back what he felt he owed you for all the birthdays, Christmases and other holidays that he had missed out on. Not only that, but he also enjoyed the idea of him providing for you as a good father should.

Tim spent hours trying to ‘re-program’ your mind. He would describe in great detail how the two of you used to spend time together. He became frustrated when you explained how none of it ever happened and started to double down, blaming Jason for messing up your mind. Sometimes, Tim would even drag you to his room, which had become even messier as he slowly started to spend less time there and more time with you, and force you to re-enact ‘your old memories’ by playing the games he remembered the two of you playing. He would force you to sit on his bed, between his legs, as he caged you in with the rest of his lanky body and rested his head on your shoulder. It made you claustrophobic and uncomfortable, but Tim would get pouty and extend the gaming sessions if you tried to get away. The worst part of being with Tim, however, wasn’t listening to his delusional rants about your old relationship, no, that was an unavoidable nuisance at best. The worst thing was how he would dirty Jason’s name with the vilest of allegations, none of them rooted in reality. Everything from Jason kidnapping you, to Jason wanting to put your life in danger to punish Bruce and, worst of all, that Jason was somehow in a conspiracy with the League of assassins to kill you so that Damian would be Bruce’s only true heir. Whether or not you believed anything Tim said in the beginning, it was hard to entirely brush off all his claims as they were repeated to you verbatim almost every day. Sometimes Tim would even present ‘evidence’ for his claims, like videos of Jason acting suspiciously, or messages intercepted between Talia and Jason, written in their handwriting, mentioning you in a less than ideal light. Most of this ‘evidence’ was either taken out of context or simply fabricated. With many of the letters that Tim claimed were from Talia having been written by Damian, who knew his mother’s handwriting down to the smallest flicker of her wrist.

Damian was perhaps the most refreshing of them. He wasn’t nearly as overbearing as Bruce, nor was he as clingy as Dick and Tim. Damian was simply quite demanding. “L/n, sit next to me”, “L/n, come read with me in the library”, “L/n, come walk with me through the gardens”, and so on. His commands were easy to follow, and not to be questioned, Now, that was something you could do. Damian was less of an affection seeker, he was more patient than the rest, perfectly willing to wait until you were ready to get emotionally close to him. He would wait, with welcoming arms and a composed smile. If you ever showed Damian any affection, like a hug or putting your head on his shoulder while the two of you were reading, he would experience a brief moment of shock, before laying an arm or two around you, careful not to overwhelm you, but absolutely celebrating like new years in his mind. On the other hand, if you were to try and escape, Damian would have no qualms about breaking both of your legs with a sledgehammer, Annie Wilkes-style. Damian is deeply loyal, both to you and to Bruce, but even more so to himself and his personal beliefs. Once Damian sets a goal, he will not lose sight of it, this is also why he can remain so patient with you, but it also means that even if you somehow calm down the rest of your family’s yandere tendencies to manageable levels, this will never be the case with Damian. He will forever remain by your side, ready to protect and serve you. He does almost become reverent in his familial love for you, not in a deity-like way, but he does view you as one of the only people set above him, this reflects in the painted portraits, which he will no doubt create for you. Your room and his will both end up covered in your portraits, from different angles, with different hairstyles and so on, it is almost unsettling to see your own eyes staring back at you everywhere you go, almost like a 1984 Big Brother, only it is yourself. Damian will also take you to interact with his pets, he might keep both Titus and Batcow at a distance at first, afraid that they’ll hurt you, however, he almost transfers ownership of Jerry and Alfred the cat to you, thinking you could probably need some non-human companions to help you settle back in. He would also help you re-decorate your room if you’d like, only to sneak in deep green imagery here and there to remind you of him.

They are all exceptionally loving of you, you are their little prince/princess/royal, and they make sure to treat you like one. Alfred is almost embarrassed at the over-the-top behaviour, but he accepts it, as he feels obliged to always go with what Bruce wants. Bruce was once his little boy, (not biologically but in spirit), and he understands why the man acts as he does, even if he disagrees with the intensity of their treatment of you. He does, however, offer brief moments of reprieve, when he takes observation duty and simply lets you sit in the kitchen, munching on a cookie or two, doing whatever you want, as long as it doesn’t bring you in danger. It feels nice to just be yourself, even if only for a fleeting instant.

Jason had tried to get you back many times but was constantly being fought back by the rest of the family, physically and mentally. He had tried asking Roy for help, but the redhead was afraid of what they’d do to Lian, so he refused. The other Justice League members were of no help either, while they enjoyed Jason’s presence, they were first and foremost Bruce’s friends, and as such took his side in the matter. There was nothing Jason could do, he was powerless to help you as you were practically held captive within your old childhood home.

In short, the family made you the jewel of their eyes, your previous neglect was swept under the rug and you’re expected to forget it or at least forgive them. If I were to rank them from worst to best, it’d probably be Tim, Dick, Bruce, Damian and Alfred, (let’s be honest, he’d definitely turn at least slightly yandere after a while, even if you won’t notice. Heck, the fact that he lets Bruce hold you captive definitely screams “Not entirely against you being here against your will”). I think Tim would be the worst, as he often puts the need to convince you that you have always been close and his hatred of Jason before your actual wants and needs, and he will do things which you will find traumatic and uncomfortable, just to get you to agree with him. Dick is right behind him, as he puts his own need for extreme physical validation before your comfort and will expect you to forgive him relatively fast, as well as not being particularly sympathetic to your situation. Bruce and Damian are both tolerable, with Bruce being slightly worse due to his extreme overbearingness and lesser patience. Alfred is… well he’s Alfred, he treats you like a normal person would, while just being insanely enabling in his lack of action against Bruce. You’ll never escape any of them, so you better get comfortable.

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chibikochannumberone · 2 years ago

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the ocean and the wind. (5)

ੈ✩‧₊˚ synopsis: tonowari is the ocean and ronal is the wind. where does it leave you?

ੈ✩‧₊˚ notes: reader is so lucky you have a support group but it's a good thing you are not that blind right?? anyways lmk your thoughts and which parts were your favorite i make sure to read all of your comments and rbs btw sometimes i just don't reply smts bc i got busy but yeah i appreciate every notes you leave!!

part 1 ✩ part 2 ✩ part 3 ✩ part 4

The wind guides the ocean and wherever the ocean goes, the wind is there. The two cannot exist without the other for only together, they create the most beautiful peaceful calmness or the strongest violent storm.

Between the two, where does it leave you?

None. Of course, there is no place for you. You are nothing to them. You are not even a speck of particle that the air carries or the smallest piece of sand that the sea touches.

They were the source of your greed, your guilt and shame, but you were wrong. You are the shameful and disgraceful one. You who dared to overstep your boundaries. You who dared to desire them.

Humiliation burns your skin and chars your heart and remorse fills your lungs with smoke and suffocates you. You let it ablaze and reduce your heart to a pile of ashes and glowing embers that burn you inside out.

Your ache stings and brings forth droplets of salty tears that do nothing to extinguish your pyre.

"Ma’evi, what pains you so?" Your Sa'nok cradles you to her chest and sways you gently. Tears sprung out of her eyes as she puts your head on the crook of her neck. Like a furious river, you tremble and no rocks could stop your overflow as you sob.

Your muffled wails fill your home. You cry and cry undeserving tears you didn't notice when your father had come inside, only the warmth of another embrace and soft pats on your back.

“Cry it all out to us, my dear, and we will cry with you.” Do you dare to tell them? Do you dare to tell them of a horrible daughter you are? Do you dare to tell them of the sins you have committed?

“Let us see you, my child,” your mother tucks the strands of your hair that stick to your face into your ear. “Let us bear your pain instead,”

You don’t dare say anything and let their touch lull you to your sleep.

“The Olo’eyktan have announced that the Iknimiya will be held in a few days because of the auspicious sign of the return of our brothers and sisters,” your mother gently says as she cuts some food. You all sit on the floor as you eat. You didn’t want to eat with them at first, preferring to sleep the rest of the day away, but your parents have been concerned since your walls shattered in front of them. “Truth be told, your Sempul and I think you are ready.”

Your father hums as he offers you a bite from his hand and you eat it.

“Yes, we can see how independent you are already. You are even a greater hunter than I am now,” he jokes and your eyes waver at the effort he puts into making you feel better each day ever since your walls broke down in front of them. You smile and joke weakly in return.

“Am I now?”

“Mhm, an even better healer than me as well. I think you would make a great Tsahik,” you freeze at that. Memories of Ronal and Tonowari rush through your head and your hand trembles in place when you reached your hand for food. You quickly pulled back and lightly clasped your hands together, hiding your palms away from them.

Tsahik. Ronal is much suited for the position. She is more suited as Tonowari’s mate and Tonowari is more suited for her. Their bond is like no other after all. You would not be surprised should they choose each other when they complete their Iknimiya, Letsakx made a good job of waking you up from the blindness of their attraction for each other, which will happen soon. Very soon. And soon, you will have to live with your closest friends’ love that does not include you.

You hum, not daring to speak for fear you might stutter and they will hear the shakiness of your voice. They are very keen and observant. Perhaps they already have an inkling of what you feel. Of what you have thought. And what you have done.

“But Ma’evi, we are not saying this because we want you to complete your Iknimaya now,” your mother says as she takes the knife and plate away and gets closer to all of you three. She holds your hand in hers and looks at you with so much softness and your father squeezes your other hand with such gentleness that you feel yourself tearing up but you hold it down. “We do not want you to do it if you yourself do not feel ready.”

“Take your time, my dear, we will be always waiting here for you.” Really, you don’t deserve your parents. They don’t deserve a child like you. But the love they have for you is great and you find yourself squeezing their hands.

You find yourself letting them see you.

The day of Iknimaya has come and all of the men, women, and children had gathered on the central island. Many young hunters participated in this coming-of-age ritual. You are among them, along with your other friends and some you knew from one of your classes back then and of course, Tonowari and Ronal. They had been trying to get close to you, but you only smile painfully so.

“Are you alright now, [Name]? I haven’t seen you in so long!” Tonowari says to you with concern swimming in his bright blue eyes and your heart flutters at the thought that you were his subject of worry, but you are quickly reminded that you are not his. Ronal touches you and inspects you carefully as she circles around you for wounds that you might have. Your battered heart trembles under her keen gaze that looks only at you for the moment but you are quickly reminded that you are not hers.

“Your mother told us that you had gotten ill, are you sure you can join this Iknimaya?” your mother told everyone who asked about you an excuse for your absence. You realize that with you, they touch a lot and the ache grows for they caress you not because they want you as you want them. You smile bitterly.

“Yes, I want to do this,” you gently take their hands off of you, “Let’s talk again later, hm? My friends have been calling me.”

You send them a smile and return to your group of friends. You did not look back as you promised, despite the greed that claws you inside out. Your friends exclaim in surprise and joy at your presence. Some hug and some send a smile towards you.

But it’s okay, you think as you converse with them, this is a lesson you must learn and you would never dare to disappoint Eywa or everyone else again.

It wasn’t long until the ritual formally started and you find yourselves in the sea with water halfway up to your legs. The Olo’eyktan started his speech moments ago about the history and importance of your coming-of-age ritual, his gaze heavy with pride for all of you.

“Young hunters, it is time,” the Olo’eyktan says as he looks at each one of you, “It is time for you to become a true Na’vi. A true Metkayina.”

“Show us that you can handle the mighty and strong roars of the ocean by taming a Skimwing. Show us your worthiness by bonding with your spiritual brothers and sisters. Show us that you deserve the symbols inked into your skin.” He stomps and you all stomp. You all let out sounds of gruff and puffs with the tongues of the men out and the lips of the women pursed down.

Now, you watch as one by one, the names of the others are called out and they tame the Skimwing. You stare as Tonowari chooses the biggest one with the brightest orange spots that decorated its wings. You stare as he takes a quick glance at you and blinks while he turns away to look at Ronal. He sends her a reassuring smile and none for you. Your heart is silent as you watch him successfully tame his Skimwing and swim through the fast currents and return so proud and so imposing.

You stare as Ronal chooses the calmest one with calming green spots that adorn its wings. You stare as she looks at you with firm eyes that you could not read. She turns to Tonowari and nods at him. A part of you is scared that you do not know her well anymore and a part of you bleeds out at the confirmation that only Tonowari can truly see and understand her. Your heart fades away as you watch her gracefully soar and dance with the wind and return smoothly with such elegance.

Your turn has come and you look at the Skimwings that paid no mind to you. But there was one that looked back at you and swims slowly toward you. You let out a silent giggle to yourself. Would you let me see you? You hummed as you questioningly looked at it. It touches your hand with its head and makes you pat it as if saying, If you would let me.

You swing your leg over its body and sat on its back. You take your queue from behind and formed Tsaheylu with your Skimwing. The feeling momentarily blinds you before you become hyper-aware of the water that surrounds both of you, your weight on its back, and its feelings.

You both swim gently until the pace becomes faster. You both dive deep into the ocean and see the shoals of fish that swim past you, the sways of the underwater forests that glow so brightly, and the calmness of the water that leaves you breathless of its beauty.

You swim back to the surface and put your feet on its behind and crouch down, your grip hard on its tie. Your Skimwing jumps and unfolds its wings and you laugh breathlessly as you let the wind kiss your skin, its rustle cheering you on as you soar through the sky.

But it is time for you to return. As you come back, you immediately miss the ocean and the wind. After this, no more, you promised yourself, No more.

The bonding with the Tulkun soon followed after. Everyone went to the sides of their respective spiritual brother and sister and they all look so excited. Everyone was filled to the brim with joy but you, your nerves leave you trembling slightly.

Greetings, sister, you signed with a small smile hoping she would forgive you for only coming to see her today and not as soon as they arrived.

How dare you come at me only now? Is this what you see of me, just a way for you to complete your Iknimaya? Well, you are wrong! I will not bend over to your wishes so easily! she moaned in annoyance at you and sways you off gently.

You don’t think she could even bend but you just hugged her and buried your face against her beautiful skin that you would fawn at each time but you wouldn’t bring yourself to now. I’m sorry, sister. You don’t have to make Tsaheylu for me, I understand.

She pauses and was silent for a while.

…What pains you so, sister? Who dares to give you such pain? she hums at you, covering you with one of her fins and lets you hide. Tears escape your eyes and you sob silently underwater. Fear comes back and it overflows your lungs and shame burns your body hot despite the coolness of the water.

Lend me your suffering and let me suffer with you. Let me see you, sister. You look at her in shock and disbelief. Despite that you have wronged her, she still wants to see you.

She wants to see you. She wants to see your pain. She wants to see your fear. She wants to see your shame. Do you dare to let someone know of your sins? Your immoral thoughts and greed?

You look at your sister with only you in her eyes and she blinks softly at you.

You find yourself letting her see you.

She opens her mouth and you enter inside. Her queue comes down almost immediately and you almost laugh at how she truly wants to bond with you, even if it happened in an unfortunate circumstance you caused. You take your own and hold the end part of it, letting its tendrils connect to her glowing golden queue.

You close your eyes and your sisters’ memories rush through you. Her birth, her parents, her family, you see it. The joyous moments that contain you beside her, you see it. One particular moment was when you swam through the deep ocean and talked about the most mundane thing with her, lasting for even hours until you two have to breathe the surface’s air again. Her huntings as they travel outside your clan, you see it. Her first hunt without you and how she felt lonely without you by her side to congratulate you.

Now, you see her current emotions as she sees you. She’s distraught. Sad. In pain. But she is with you and your heart (or whatever is left of it) warms.

Oh, my sister, she whines and sobs. Her body vibrates and you feel yourself crying with you as well. My poor sister. You don’t deserve any of this. You don’t deserve this.

You think of the ocean and the wind once more, breaking your promise to yourself for the millionth time. The wind guides the ocean and wherever the ocean goes, the wind is there. The two cannot exist without the other for only together, they create the most beautiful peaceful calmness or the strongest violent storm.

Today, you have seen how great they are. And how well they suit each other. How Ronal’s grace matches Tonowari’s pride. How Tonowari’s imposing presence matches Ronal’s elegant strides.

Today, you have seen what great Olo’eyktan and Tsahik will become. You have seen how far they are out of your reach and what your place will be for the years that will come by.

For between the two, there leaves none for you.

series-taglist: (tags in blue means tumblr won't let me mention you, please let me know if you changed usernames!) @totesnothere04 @ducks118 @narutoboi @yeosxxx @fanboyluvr @ladylovegood-69 @northsoulss @thatfictionalwh0re @ghostlyworld @toodaloo432 @lovefromjazzy @greendino7 @neteyamforlife @vermilionzombie @vxncxntt @adaiasafira @tsuteysyawntu @mooniequeen @eywas-heir

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chibikochannumberone · 2 years ago

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Oh, oh! I have an avatar idea/request. I haven't seen the new movie yet but I always loved the idea of maybe a teen reader getting dragged to Pandora with their semi-negligent parents. Like they love their parents but they never have anytime for the reader. Reader gets signed up for the avatar program as a way to keep them entertained and out of the way of their busy scientist/military parents. They don't usually get to leave the base but sometimes they get to go on little excursions not far from it to do test runs and see what their avatar body is capable of and how their age effects things. However, on one of these trips something bad happens and the reader gets separated from the scientists and their escorts and now finds themself lost and scared in the jungle (and possibly unable to return to their human body).

PLATONIC JAKE SULLY (+ a lil sully family) X READER

(A/N I don’t know why I ended up feeling weird this, I think it’s because it reminds me of wattpad days. Kinda long, enjoy)

———————————————————————

Mayday mayday- theres a fire in the engine- the chopper is coming down.

You were always told by your parents to keep quiet, to stay on the sideline as to not hoard any attention that could reflect badly upon them, stay silent, stay obedient. Thats always how it was with them. You knew they loved you, even if they had a hard time showing it, even if it meant they talked to you about ten minutes in a day.

At least you were guaranteed a safe home, food, clothes, and a comfortable life. That is, until you were volunteered (voluntold) by your parents in the avatar program, it was supposedly a test to try the DNA pairing on a younger subject. And your parents had said it would be good for you to see where they work, but you knew that it was just because you were too “needy” in their eyes.

Of course, when you were told that you would be accompanying them on their work trips, you were elated, theyd never invited you before! Then you learned it was on another planet. After a few fights, as always, you ended up agreeing. After all, they said it was safe.

So two months later, a billion tests later, and a new blue humanoid created with your DNA, you had settled into pandora. It was strange to be honest, you were possibly one of the only people on the planet under the age of 21, and not educated as if you were a harvard professor.

Everything was out of bounds, you couldnt ever go to your parents lab, couldnt go outside, couldnt even meet your new blue body. Most of the time you sadly sat, turning into a human statue in your small room with your books. Of course you didnt complain, you never would,

you never did.

Then, you got to integrate yourself into your new body. And your brain, along with your DNA, was finally conjoined. You were wary at first, it was so surreal, after all you were changing bodies. But once you actually did it, you were so glad your parents signed you up.

All of a sudden you were strong, not just strong, but coursing with energy, you felt as if you could fly, or crack boulders in half, it was so surreal. The same feeling you might get as if you were underwater your entire life, and finally got your first breath of fresh air.

You never wanted to leave, never wanted to go back into your cubicle of a bedroom where you could barely breath without feeling inferior. Your legs moved before your mind did, and before you could comprehend, you were standing in the middle of the strange fruit fields with the nurses chasing you down. Your parents would be pussed if they saw you. But at this point? You didnt even care.

You didnt even care

---

As the months passed by your place at the laboratory had been established, you were correct in assuming that you were the youngest here, and that made the research you were contributing to far more interesting. You learned so much about these people, this species.

Primarily, the function of your avatar was completely optimal, you could walk, talk, breathe, and act like all of the others could. There was just one little thing.

Your life was better than it ever was, you didnt even need your parents to love you, you had so many people who already did. 90% of the time you spent beong tested on while doing daily activities. Youd only left the base to go into pandora twice, and that was just to see the land, see the place youd be living for a long time. While it could sometimes be boring, it was far better than your life back home.

After some time, your parents requested that you be taken to a farther laboratories in the mountains, which hurt a lot, but you couldnt say no. they had to transfer yur human, and your navi body. It was so strange to see yourself. Your human self, in other eyes.

So, here you are now. Clutching tight onto the seat of the large helicopter, your human body was encased in an airtight bed, an oxygen mask pressed tightly to your face. Your eyes were practically glued onto your human body, and you were barely able to peel them away, you looked so different when seeing yourself from different eyes, so weak.

It made you sad to know how everybody else saw you. You just stared, at least you got to be away from the two scientists you wished you could call your parents.

In your trance, you hadnt noticed the pilots in the front yelling at eachother, or the scientists rushing around the aircraft seemingly in a panic. It wasnt until the leather seat underneath you began shaking aggressively that you looked up.

There was smoke, but no visible fire, and the aircraft seemed to be dragging, instead of darting swiftly through the air like youd seen all the other planes do, almost like it was too heavy. It slugged, and slowly drifted down.

Panic slowly overtook your senses, you werent sure what was happeningm but by the looks of it, it was very bad. Understanding that you knew absolutely nothing about emergency procedures, You tried to stay put as well as you could, knowing anything you tried to do would just make things worse. But then, a large pop bellowed through the sky, and instead of dragging slowly, the helicopter began to plummit. Then you had to start moving.

Gravity threw you into the other end of the helicopter, and you frantically had to grip at the edge of the opening in attempts to not fly out. THings flew out of the sides, including a few screaming scientists… and the white bed with your human body in it. You watched it fly though the air towards the forest floor with wide eyes, slowly letting your grip slip. In your distraction, you didnt pay any attentuon to the other large objects flying out of the plane.

A large box containing some kind of lab supplies crashed against you, smashing you in the face, and knocking the breath right out of your lungs. And like the rest of the helicopter, you too began falling so abruptly that you couldnt even do anything more than scream. Clutching your head with your hands, you curled up, and just fell.

When you hit the ground, it was pain. And then nothing but black.

----

The flutter of your eyes, the feeling of your fingers against hard dirt, the smell of smoke and burnt flesh wafting in the air. You werent quite conscious, but you werent nececarilly unconscious either. Just there.

When you were finally able to peel your eyes open, there was so much green. Glowing mushrooms strungs across trees, large leaves dripping water, little bugs littered throughout the dirt, white veins growing across your hands and feet. Little glowing bugs that looked like dandelion fuzzthat bounced around across you.

That peace only kept for so long though, and as you realized the depth of your situation, that your helicopter crashed in the middle of a pandora forest, your human body had to be dead so it's amazing that youre even alive right now, and you have no contact to anybody who could save you.

And so, you cried. Unsure of what else to do.

Soft sobs slowly transitioned into rough, ugly crying. Maybe it was the panic, or maybe it was just pent up anxiety being given the oppurtunity, maybe even both. But you cried, without any reguard for what could be watching.

Naturally, as you were face down in the dirt, crying to your hearts content like a baby, you payed no care, nor attent to the sound of hooves traveling your way, or the sight of the native people stampeding towards the disturbance, the noise. They came came to a halt upon seeing you though, covered in seeds from ey-wa. The deity clearly did not want them to harm you, after all, you were just a young girl. Even if you were a human. \

“Call jake.” a womanly voice announced amongst the group in a foreign language, she was loud enough to alert you of their presence. Your head perked up, and in doing so made the pain in your back shiver through in small bursts, a wince left your lips.

You stared at the group in fear with wide eyes, trying to push yourself farther an farther away, which did nothing but unsettle the little white bugs all over you. They floated away towards them, and they stared back with even wider eyes. They werent really sure what to do, usually they would kill any trespassers, but you were protected, so should they grab you and take you back? Or do they leave you alone? They would have to let jake decide.

They stared at you, trying to get close, you stared at them, they muttered in their language, sounding far more than confused. You slowly scooted back, wincing the entire time out of pain. Any attempts to stand up were halted, as the white roots around your feet made the ground slippery, and just made you clumsily fall back down. It was humiliating, like watching a fish flop around out of water.You stayed quiet, you always did.

They all went silent within a few moments though, and the sound of more hooves echoed through the forest around. You didnt know what was happening, but clearly it was important, and you got the impression that it was not good for you. So you clutched the tree next to you, and stretched as far as you could to see what was happening.

And it struck fear in you. One of the largest Na-vi people youve ever seen, at least 10 or 11 feet, with braids that had long strands of silver interlocked, and the piercing green eyes of a hunter. He stared at you, and you stared right back. When he opened his mouth you expected more of that fooreign language, but instead, it was english.

“Why are you here? What happened?” he questioned, dismounting the horse like creature, and pulling out his braid from the connection. He was wearing some kind of beaded shirt, unlike the others,

The Navi around seemed to await every word he spoke. You perked up at the sound of english, happy to find the familiarity, however, youre pretty sure half of the bones in this body were broken, and it just caused you pain. YOure body let out a whimper before you could stop it.

At the noises that left you, the male quirked an eyebrow, and instead of the angry, almost terrifying look that was spread on his face, was a face of concern. You were so young, so small, he very well couldnt hurt you, and you had to be important, eywa wanted you safe, even if the goddess of the land didnt, he felt the need to protect you.

He had many children, and his youngest was soon growing old, and would eventually leave him. You were just so small, and you looked so young, you reminded him of kiri, abandoned, alone. He couldnt leave you.

He began growing closer, catching your gaze and holding it, he put his hands up and put his weapon down. Just trying not to scare you. When he opened his mouth you were expecting that language you couldnt understand, but to your pleasure, it was english.

“How bad are you hurt kid? I saw the smoke, eywa can heal you. I just need you to come with me” he reached his hand towards you, motioning for you to latch on. When you made no motion top grab it, he held your unrelenting gaze, and scooped his arm under your torso, shushing you when you cried out in pain. He held you tightly, tucking you in the knook of his arm. For a moment he seemed distracted, his eyes drawn to the floating white puffs above. What were those anyway?

You held your breath as he remounted the horse, and spoke a few words in that awful language you couldnt understand, with a squeal from the thing you were on top of, it began moving, along with the navi around you. The man gripped you tightly and pressed you close to his chest, one hand on the horse, one around your waist. You winced again, trying to hold back tears, everything hurt.

“It's okay, youll be alright, we can heal you, got it?”, you stayed quiet.

And in nothing but a few moments, It was calm again. Youd never actually met any of the natives, but you had thought it would be far more scary than this, your parents said they would snap and try to kill you. They didnt, in fact, and this man, this navi seemed so human. So kind. You felt so comfortable, he made you feel so comfortable.

The sound of the hooves against the dirt, this mans light breathing against your ear, the warmth soaking from him to you, his hand pressing you close, the way he looked down at you, amking sure you were comfortable. How he seemed to hover, to protect. Like a father should. At least thats what you thought.

You stared at him, and his eyes locked with yours, a small smile flashing at you. It just made him squeeze you tighter, god, it was just so endearing, so adorable how you stared. You looked so much like neytiri.

It only took a few minutes of him holding you for you to fall unconscious, probably because of the excessive blood leaving your system, or the physical attatchment you were already beginning to feel, or the lack of sleep. Either way, you ended up dozing off, and curling closer to him.

---

Once again, you had to peel your eyes open, but this time it wasnt as unpleasant. Instead of a muddy, veiny floor, covered in bugs, in agony. Instead, you were wrapped in some kind of cocoon, on top of a warm blanket or some kind of plant.

There was a woman sitting next to the pod you were in, smashing down some string smelling plant in a bowl. Her eyes were so green, and she was so beautiful. When she noticed you were awake, she put the bowl down, and hovered closer.

“That is my son, nateyam” the woman pointed to you, or more to the thing under you, in which you had previously mistaken for a plant, but instead, which you probably shouldve realized sooner. Was a navi. He looked to be a few years older than you, at least 17 or 18.

You shifted and sat up, trying to exit the cocoon, but to your embarrassment, your foot got caught in the edge, and you flew over, the boy you had been lying on top of grabbed you and hoisted you back up. You shook his hands off and stood up. Now realizing that there were other navi around too, they also looked young, maybe a family?

The man from earlier, who you assumed was their leader of some sort, appeared around behind the woman, and wrapped his arms around her waist with a smile, holding your gaze. You panicked, understanding now that you were with a bunch of strangers, and your parents, if they even cared, probably thought you were dead.

“I- i have to get back- they wont know that im okay-” you croaked out, your voice was hushed, and rough, like youd been screaming for hours on end, you shook nateyams hands off of you, and stood up straight, meeting the woman in the eye, she looked worried.

“Who is they? Do you have family where you live?” the woman answered, clearly she was his wife, or his mate, as they would call it. She had a thick accent, and a strong voice, commanding. So that man, jake, he couldnt be a native, he talked l

“Uh- yeah- i guess. I lived where the labs were. Uh- the humans? They have a building somewhere- i don't know-” you rushed out, not knowing how long youd been gone, they mightve already pronounced you dead. Meaning they wouldnt look for you. The boy behind you hushed you, tryign to calm your panic, and placed a hand on your shoulder. Only for you to shrug it off.

The navi around locked eyes, contemplating their next words. of course they knew where the humans stayed, jake lived there for half a year, they hated them, when they werent burning down their forests, they were killing their animals, their people. They would kill you. You couldnt go back. Even if it meant lying to you.

“There havent been humans on this planet for a long time”

What

What were you supposed to do now?

Where were you supposed to go?

You were stuck.

Oh god.

———————————————————————

Can somebody please comment with an honest opinion- I’m gonna take this down if y’all think it’s bad.

I think I’m being coo coo for cocobonks insecure right now but I need to know.

Thanks for requesting, and for reading! Have a wonderful day!

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