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oneshots-heaven · 2 months
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These are actually lines from the second part of "The Motel Room". I‘ve never finished writing that back then, and now it‘s finished and I can finally share it with you soon. That‘s the nicest part of writing
Do any of you writers sometimes read your own stuff and then you come across a line, or a couple, and somehow your own words break your own poor heart a little...
because
“Thank you,“ you mumbled, afterwards. 
“It’s nothing.“
You shook your head. “No, I meant thank you for saving my life.“ 
There was something that changed in his eyes, yet again, glistering as you said it. The worried, frowning expression disappeared, and was instead replaced by something rather indescribable, nevertheless, it was addicting and leaving you unable to look away from him. You hung on his lips, waiting for him to answer something, as this felt so vulnerable to admit. 
“You saved mine, too, before.“ 
You put aside the glass on the dusty side table. “So, we’re even now?“ you murmured. 
“I don't count.“ 
YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW MUCH THESE LINES MEAN TO ME WHAT AM I DOING TO MYSELF BECAUSE IT GETS SO MUCH, SO MUCH WORSE AFTER THIS
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oneshots-heaven · 2 months
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your celeb crush getting a girlfriend is a different kind of pain.
especially when it’s one of the hottest women ever
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oneshots-heaven · 2 months
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Currently finishing up Part Two of this :)
THE MOTEL ROOM — "The Begin"
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Since the beginning, Dick Grayson and you were trained and put up as the perfect rivals. Two individuals with different perspectives who yet want the same out of life. Meeting each other over and over again, it is the same situation: one wins, the other loses—but it all ends in the same motel room. 
And it all began with the day you two met...
Warning: NSFW — explicit violence, cursing, mentions of injuries/killing in detail, mentioned co-dependence (mentor/mentee), bit angsty fluff Pre-Titans — Dick Grayson x Reader
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Your knee hit with force right in the groin of the men attacking you, kneeling him down in one swing. Fear widened the eyes of his partners, yet they stood their ground. As much as they wished to simply give in to their fear, they all had given their boss a vow that did not allow them to do so. Eyes glistening, you smiled grimly, recking your chin up as you signaled them to come right at you. 
No matter how much you made them shit their pants, they were still men with their full blown ego. Every second they showed their fear of a girl, it felt like poison to them and they hated it. 
A roaring sound filled the badly lit alley as the first men stepped forward, wielding his fists at you. Ducking it easily, you had already grabbed his arm, twisting it harshly. The others came at you, trying to help their poor fellow. While their hatred fueled their actions, yours were fueled by the euphoric sound of their pain, pushing the adrenaline in your body as it worked its will.
Two of them hang onto your arms, holding them back as tightly as they possibly could, to give the third one a free way to fight you off. What a brutal mistake they’d made. 
Just as they can close off to hurt you, you smashed your head hard enough against his nose. Crying out loud, he tumbled back, raising his arms to his bleeding nose. The only concern he could suddenly concentrate on. Using all the muscle strength you had in your core, you pulled the men down with you. Only difference was that unlike them, you rolled yourself gracefully over your shoulder, leaving them on the ground. 
They would struggle for a longer while. 
Leaving them behind in the alley, you started to run over to the old brick factory where all the chaos came from. Fucking hell, this hadn’t been how your mentor and you had pictured this entire situation to go down, but standing here and crying about it wouldn’t change it now either. As for now, the knowing that your mentor probably had the situation handled was the only relief. 
Running into the factory, you tried to catch up with her, but soon realized you ran into much more trouble than you had imagined. The small group of the Duke’s men outside now resembled a foreplay, while what happened in front of your eyes was the true battle ground, and it didn’t take long until you were noticed. 
“Looks like the cat has let out her kitten,“ one laughed, pulling all the attention to where his gaze was glued—you. 
The men came storming toward you, you only had the briefest of a moment to overlook the situation. Not enough to try and check how your mentor was doing. 
Drawing out your knives from your thigh halter, you greeted the fight with a vicious grin. Once there may had been a time where you had used to hold back, but you couldn’t remember any of it. Those days were long over and given by their blind reaction, they all underestimated you and they would be sorry for it. The first hit felt freeing, like a calling to a greater power. This was what you were born for, trained to master and dared to live. 
Their throaty groans and roars echoed in your ears as your knives struck into some of the weakest points of their bodies, their soft skin lushly craving in, standing no chance against your quick movements. Until they got ahead of themselves, one dared to grab after one of your knives, walking into open fire as it dived deep through his arm, blood splashing right in your face. 
Fuck this shit.
Fueled by every single of their groans, you struck over and over again, fighting your way through the newly formed group of opponents until all of your gymnastic and tactic skills weren’t enough anymore. You felt the cold metal resting against your skull. You didn’t even have to turn to know what it was, your gut told you. Putting down the bloody knives back in your halter, you breathed out just as a shot rang through the chaos of the old factory. 
Your entire body tightened in surprise, however, the plump sound of a body falling down to the ground was the testimony you were waiting for. Gulping, still struck by the sudden shock, you turned slowly to see that someone had perfectly hit the pulse artery of your opponent’s neck.
“Were you waiting for death?“ someone called out. 
A guy, not much taller than you, dressed in a dark costume with a cape draped over his shoulders and a black mask covering his eyes, came closer to you. You’d never seen him before.
“And who are you?“ you asked, instead of answering his question. 
His dark, brown hair was long enough to fall into his face, almost covering his eyes. Nevertheless, it didn’t seem to be a handicap as he appeared to be an excellent shooter. 
His equally dark gaze met yours, eyeing you seemingly from inch to inch. “Doesn’t matter, but looks like we fight for the same side.“ 
Much worse than the shot was the sudden astonishing sound of an explosion that shook the walls of the entire factory, filling it with fire, broken glass and rubble that spread everywhere. Within one swift movement, the stranger had swung his cape over your bodies shielding you both from the massive heat wave and shatter that rolled over you. Your ribcage was moving heavily against his firm one as you found yourself held securely in his arms.
“Don’t expect me to thank you for that.“ 
“I won’t.“ he assured you bitterly.
The stranger pulled back his cape, revealing the destruction that had just occurred. Your body trembled next to his, feeling his assuring warmth leaving you. Although fear had become a foreign feeling to you, it always found a way to creep back up on you. It had been long since you had last seen your mentor and this was going far out of control. You couldn’t trust the blindness of trust anymore—you had to make sure she was fine. 
Without another word to the stranger, you headed straight toward the destruction, knowing something or someone had caused it and that your mentor couldn’t be far from it. Gun shots, followed by unfamiliar yells came right from the direction of the towering rubble. The explosion had wrecked down almost an entire wall, flooding the factory with the construction lights from outside. 
Chaos was erupting wherever she looked, drowning any of her thoughts with the sounds of gun shots and cries. Swinging out of nowhere onto the facade scaffolding, your mentor came into your sight, followed by a darker, taller figure. One that she never officially introduced you to, yet always talked about—it was Batman. Indulging in the fight happening around them, they were fighting side by side.
“Guess you’re right. We do fight for the same side.“ you murmured, noticing how the stranger had caught up to you.
The calm before the storm lasted for the briefest of moments. Much like your mentor, the stranger suddenly whipped backwards out of nowhere, and within one bones-cracking movement, he had brought down a man, stomping brutally on his hand to force him to let go of the knife he wanted to attack you with. His yells drove deep through your bones, vexing you in the best way possible. 
Glancing from the man to the stranger, you had so much to say but no words came out. 
“Then you better show me what you’ve got.“ he challenged you, nodding to the incoming trouble rushing toward you. You heard his knuckles crack, balling his fists as you drew out your knives, ready to take on any fight if it meant to keep your and might as well his mentor’s back free. 
As the group of Duke’s misfits came closer to you, you immediately recognized their change of weaponry—for the worse, as they had exchanged the usual guns to the Duke’s specialized ones. 
“Don’t get hit,“ you warned, knowing the greater danger of the Duke’s bullets.  
“Wouldn’t dream of it, princess.“ 
Furiously you turned around, sending him a glare for that pet name. He was cocky, overall too confident to be this cool through a fight that could potentially end his life, and it frustrated you to the maximum. This wasn’t some sort of game, no matter how much he tried to turn it that way. Neither of you wouldn’t make it out without any hurt if you didn’t watch out. He, however, recked his chin up, as if he was daring death by any chance to come by. 
Combat was nothing compared to a gun, it would always defy the other, but you were quick—quicker than them with their guns. The stranger was too, he struck perfectly every single time, bringing down men after men. Shots rang from everywhere, spiraling around you and your opponents, trying your best to keep yourself away from the bullets. 
But no training could make every flaw of one vanish. A high-pitch voice cried out from a far, ringing in your ears, causing you to turn your attention away for the split of a moment. On the rooftop of the factory next door was your mentor with a dark shadow draped over her. Your heartbeat got stuck in your throat, causing you to gasp after air. He would keep her safe, or that was at least what you hoped for. 
A laughter, followed by someone calling out for you, pulled you harshly out of your trance. The shot rung so insanely close by you that you were able to feel the vibration. You tried catching your breath, it had almost scraped your skin. 
No material was able to withstand the Duke’s experimental bullets—they were perfect into its smallest detail and were as deadly as their description. As soon as they entered one’s skin barrier, the bullet would shatter into millions of small pieces, wounding one very little at first, before painfully killing them due to internal bleeding. 
You looked the horror straight in the eye as another shot rung, seeing exactly how the bullet hit the stranger through his suit in the lower abdomen. All color vanished from your face. Within seconds, he crunched in pain, unable to keep up the defense and becoming an easy target for your opponents, but not if he was with you. 
Picking up the blades that you had dropped, you picked up one by one before they’d come to the realization what you were doing. Pushing yourself up on your feet, you threw the first knife, striking straight into the neck of one, and then another. The anger, and mainly worry for the stranger, blinded and caused you to go riot. You had no idea if the bullet had hit him or not, if he was bleeding already, however you couldn’t get to him, not if there were still people attacking you around. 
The last one plunged forward, wrapping his arm around your neck, choking you with his hold. Grabbing onto his arm, you stabilized yourself from his sudden act but were quick to think, ramming your knife the next second in the soft part of his thigh, probably slashing a few veins in the process. His groans echoed in your ears, as you pressed your lips angrily together, ripping it out again, only to wind it down again and again until he let go of you. 
His cries of pain grew louder as you kneeled him in his groin, letting him sack onto his knees. His angered eyes were glued onto you. The only words that escaped his mouth were bad names, but you didn’t care, it would be his last ones. Your knife slashed his throat, ceasing away his voice, having the blood splashing right in your face as you dig your knife deep enough for him to never speak again. 
The voice of your mentor echoed through your head. Ever since the beginning, she had taught you that death was the last option, and although you could have punished that man without killing him, it was what he had deserved. 
Glancing over to the stranger, you instantly banished any further thought of regret out of your head, running over and crashing right down on your knees next to him. His breath whistled through his throat, his chest only heaved with struggle causing your hands to become shaky. He couldn’t die in front of you after just saving your life, this wouldn’t be fair. You took a closer look where the bullet hit, checking for the awful impact, as relief rushed over you. The Duke’s ultimate weapon may not be as unavoidable as he thinks. The bullet had struck deep into the hard shell of his suit, withholding the full impact of it. 
“Thank God,“ you breathed, meeting the stranger’s helpless gaze as you held onto him. 
The unsteady metal platform underneath you vibrated under the jolt as someone—might add elegantly—swung their way onto it. In-between the chaos of it all, your mentor came closer to you, noticing what had happened. Kneeling down on the opposite sided of the stranger, she leaned down, also inspected the wound with great fear. 
“He’s lucky,“ you told her, pointing at the bullet entrance. “The suit shell stopped the bullet, somehow. I can stabilize him and then we can go find the Duke.“ 
“No,“ your mentor interrupted you immediately, brushing the dark brown hair of the stranger out of his face, a motherly gesture, as if she knew him. A concerned, yet loving gaze hushed over her face as you watched her closely. “You need to bring him away from here, somewhere safe. Check on him and make sure he survives the night. I’ll come for you.“ 
As you processed her words, you shook your head. This had become the biggest mission for your mentor and you since the beginning of it all. You had hunted down the Duke for almost an entire year by now, only for all of this to turn out much bigger than either of you had expected. With almost experienced firsthand what the bullet could do, there was no way in hell you would let her do this without your help, even if she didn’t need it. You were trained for this, and for this only. You couldn’t let her do this on her own. 
Letting go of the stranger, you pushed yourself up and caught her wrist. “No, I’m coming with you.“ 
“We’ll handle this, trust me.“ she said, grabbing your hand, squeezing it tightly before letting go of you, ready to storm into the next fight. “Please, do me the favor and protect Robin.“ 
Jumping off the platform, she was quick to getaway, leaving you behind with the stranger. 
“No, I can’t,“ you yelled out, “Selina!“
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Your eyes had burned as your mentor had turned her back on you, and even though every fiber of your body argued to go after her, you did as you were told to. 
Unlike you, the stranger didn’t argue when you had draped his arms over your shoulders, helping him to get back up on his feet. His face had contorted in pain as he straightened himself. Without any second thought about it, you had reached out for his free hand to press it together with yours against the wound, because even though you didn’t know him, you couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. You had spent the entire past months analyzing every data and material about the Duke’s bullets you could get your hands on, knowing the brutal impact they caused all too well. 
As you had made your way carefully through the rubble of the factory, headed outside, a car came into your view. You didn’t care whose car it was, only having on your mind that you were in need of one to take the two of you somewhere safe, and you were glad that the stranger apparently didn’t care either. 
Gotham City’s streetlights flickered past you as you rushed through the late night traffic, driving out of the city, stopping somewhere in-between the highway and the next suburb at a familiar run down motel, where rarely anyone ever willingly stayed at. It was run by an old lady and her son, whom received anonymous checks with money once in a while for her unknown guests. It had served your mentor and you well many times, it was the perfect hideout when things got wrong as no one would ever question it. 
Given the dried blood all over your clothes and face, and the weapons strapped onto almost every limb of your body, you were more than thankful now to not go up and having to pay for a room. Instead you simply had done it as always—cracked the lock open and entered as if the place belonged to you. 
The blood hardened on your face, yet you could feel it cracking when you found yourself kneeled in front of the stranger, whom you had placed into the dusty, old wing chair. With great carefulness and even greater improvisation, you tried your utter best to take care of his wound, patting with a cloth soaked in cheap vodka from the minibar onto the wound. A sharp whimper left his mouth. 
“I’m sorry.“
“It’s fine,“ he falsely assured you through gritted teeth, looking down at you. 
Ignoring his lie, you shook your head as you continued to clean out the wound. It was far from being anything merely close to being fine, it was worse than you had thought. Although the hard shell of his suit had stopped the bullet’s full impact from entering his body, it had burned partly through the material, leaving a nasty, large burned scar on his lower torso. Unclothing him without hurting him at the same time seemed impossible, the suit material had burned slightly onto his skin. 
“I’m almost done,“ you told him, not knowing what else to talk about. You didn’t even know him, and the silent tension in the room was suffocating you. 
He didn’t say anything in return to, instead, he tried his best to suppress any noise of pain. Besides the small vodka bottle, you hadn’t found much to take care of his wound. It was pure luck that it was only a burned flesh wound, instead of an open one. Otherwise, you would’ve been fucked as there was nothing laying around to remotely sew it close. By ripping and shredding a towel with your knife, which went dull in the process of it, you had managed to makeshift a bandage for him. 
“Here, lean forward,“ you took the prepared bandage in your hand. 
Slowly he leaned forward, groaning in pain with every movement. As quickly as you were able to, you wrapped the towel remains around his torso, pulling it tight. It didn’t need to hold for long, it just needed to help him survive the night. 
“It’s not ideal, but it’s better than nothing,“ you sighed, reassuring yourself that the bandage was secure enough. Split seconds later, you held in, noticing your hands near his naked upper body, so close that you feel his warmth, his heartbeat racing, his breathing slowing down. In the next, you felt his eyes scrutinizing every inch of you, making you glance up to him to meet his eyes, only to catch him with parted lips. 
”Thank you,“ he breathed quietly in return. 
You gulped under the tension of his eyes watching you, letting go of his hips as you pushed yourself away from him until you could lean against the end of the bed. For the first time in this long night, you felt some sort of relief as you leaned your head back against the old mattress. Every part of your body felt tensed and sore, and while you tried your hardest to stay wake, you craved nothing more than to crawl into that dusty bed and get some rest. 
But you didn’t close your eyes. You couldn’t fall asleep, not until you saw her again and knew that nothing happened to her. Looking at the stranger, you were sure he felt the same way as he moved around unsettled in that chair, feeling miserable as he was unable to do anything due to the crushing pain that kept him sitting right there. 
“So, you’re Robin, huh? Batman’s little sidekick?“ 
A muffled chuckle escaped his mouth. “I’m far from being little.“
“You’re not even a head taller than me.“ 
He shrugged, regretting it immediately as another sharp whip of pain hit him. “So what, I’m still growing, unlike you probably.“ 
He wasn’t wrong about that. 
“You’re the Kitten everyone talks about.“ he said after you hadn’t said anything in return to him. 
You pressed your lips to a small smile. “That’s at least what everyone calls me.“ 
He pushed himself further down in the chair, letting out a breathy groan in response. “I already guessed that that wasn’t your real name.“ 
Meeting his dark gaze, you replied, “Well, I’ll take that Robin isn’t your real name either.“ 
“No, it’s Dick.“ 
“Dick? For real?“ you snorted, seeing the annoyance written all over his face as he rolled his eyes. “No, I get it. Short for Richard, right? I’m Y/N.“ 
He didn’t say anything in reply to that. You’d received nothing beyond a simple, barely recognizable nod. Not a false ’nice to meet you’, nor a silly comeback comment about your name. Instead, he and you fell into silence again, heads resting with eyes so heavy, drained from any energy and feeling so desperate for rest, yet neither of you dared to fall asleep. 
“You still have blood on your face.“ 
You felt it, how it dried down all over your face, cracking with every movement. Once your immediate reaction would have been to touch your face in astonished shock, now however, things were quite different. Instead, you sat there doing absolutely nothing about it. “I know,“ you replied quietly, “I don’t care.“ 
It was the truth, you didn’t a bit. It left you cold. 
“What do you care about?“ 
The tone of his voice clearly mocked you, although its tiredness, and it made you furious. Let alone looking at him suddenly made you regret that you had saved him as he was the reason you were stuck here. The reason why you weren’t with your mentor, fighting alongside her like you were supposed to. Now all you were left with his mockery tone and the bitter unknown of your mentor’s well-being. 
Batman may was with her, and God knows, what a skilled fighter he was, but that wasn’t enough for you. Your mentor and you had stood together for years now after she had taken you under her wing, no one knew her better than you did. You knew every move of hers, you knew when you were about to win, as well as when to give up a fight. No one could protect her as you could.
For months, you had watched the Duke and his following, trained and prepared to overthrow, only to end up being stuck with a stranger in a motel room.
“You know what I do care about?“ it left your mouth quicker, more harsher than you had intended. “I care about Selina. I care about the mission I had with her before Batman and you came along. We’ve had a plan, it would have all been fine if you hadn’t showed up, because now I’m stuck here, not knowing when or if she comes back, and that’s all your fault.“
“If I hadn’t shown up, they would’ve shot you right in the head.“
“So it be!“ you cried out.
He scoffed. “You can’t be serious.“
“Oh, I fucking am.“ 
All the pain seemed forgotten as he sat up straight, his eyes so sterling furious.
“Look, I understand exactly how you feel, but this was so much bigger than either of us had expected. We would’ve only been a burden for them, instead of help, and you would’ve been dead if I hadn’t been there to save you. As much as you have saved me with this.“ he argued, his voice cracking by the end, motioning to the bandage you had made. “I know this unknown sucks, but they will make it through. They’ve faced worse together already, have a little faith in them. She’ll come back for you.“ 
Hot tears shot in your eyes, as you loosened your balled fists. Facing away from him, you blinked them away, trying your utter best to keep yourself contained. You felt like a fool for reacting this intensely, especially in front of him. You’d noticed yourself a while ago how bad it had gotten, how much you depended on your relationship with Selina. She was the only family you had left and although she was far more experienced than you, letting her alone in a situation like this scared you. 
Your dependence made you vulnerable, and somehow you were glad that Dick didn’t use that as an advantage against you. Instead, he had said what you had needed to hear, almost as if he truly knew what it felt like to be this helpless and weak.
“Do you think this is what we’re supposed to do, what they’ve secretly wanted? Exchange our real names, befriend each other, because we’re both sidekicks?“ 
His mouth twitched upwards. “If you rather want me to call you kitten, I can do that.“ 
“No, I like it when—“ you murmured, suddenly regretting being so harsh to him. “Call me by my real name.“ 
“If you call me by mine.“ he said sincere, and for the briefest of moments, you held onto that. It was perhaps the closest thing to a friendship you’d experienced in years. 
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Part 2 coming soon.
Thank you for reading — I'm always happy about feedback.
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oneshots-heaven · 3 months
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It's online — my first one shot after what feels like years. I actually wrote the beginning of ’The Motel Room' yeaaaars ago and it took me a while to finish this, but Dick Grayson always has a special place in my heart.
I hope you like too. As always, thank you for reading and your support. It means a lot! <3
Have a great Sunday y'all!
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oneshots-heaven · 3 months
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THE MOTEL ROOM — "The Begin"
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Since the beginning, Dick Grayson and you were trained and put up as the perfect rivals. Two individuals with different perspectives who yet want the same out of life. Meeting each other over and over again, it is the same situation: one wins, the other loses—but it all ends in the same motel room. 
And it all began with the day you two met...
Warning: NSFW — explicit violence, cursing, mentions of injuries/killing in detail, mentioned co-dependence (mentor/mentee), bit angsty fluff Pre-Titans — Dick Grayson x Reader
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Your knee hit with force right in the groin of the men attacking you, kneeling him down in one swing. Fear widened the eyes of his partners, yet they stood their ground. As much as they wished to simply give in to their fear, they all had given their boss a vow that did not allow them to do so. Eyes glistening, you smiled grimly, recking your chin up as you signaled them to come right at you. 
No matter how much you made them shit their pants, they were still men with their full blown ego. Every second they showed their fear of a girl, it felt like poison to them and they hated it. 
A roaring sound filled the badly lit alley as the first men stepped forward, wielding his fists at you. Ducking it easily, you had already grabbed his arm, twisting it harshly. The others came at you, trying to help their poor fellow. While their hatred fueled their actions, yours were fueled by the euphoric sound of their pain, pushing the adrenaline in your body as it worked its will.
Two of them hang onto your arms, holding them back as tightly as they possibly could, to give the third one a free way to fight you off. What a brutal mistake they’d made. 
Just as they can close off to hurt you, you smashed your head hard enough against his nose. Crying out loud, he tumbled back, raising his arms to his bleeding nose. The only concern he could suddenly concentrate on. Using all the muscle strength you had in your core, you pulled the men down with you. Only difference was that unlike them, you rolled yourself gracefully over your shoulder, leaving them on the ground. 
They would struggle for a longer while. 
Leaving them behind in the alley, you started to run over to the old brick factory where all the chaos came from. Fucking hell, this hadn’t been how your mentor and you had pictured this entire situation to go down, but standing here and crying about it wouldn’t change it now either. As for now, the knowing that your mentor probably had the situation handled was the only relief. 
Running into the factory, you tried to catch up with her, but soon realized you ran into much more trouble than you had imagined. The small group of the Duke’s men outside now resembled a foreplay, while what happened in front of your eyes was the true battle ground, and it didn’t take long until you were noticed. 
“Looks like the cat has let out her kitten,“ one laughed, pulling all the attention to where his gaze was glued—you. 
The men came storming toward you, you only had the briefest of a moment to overlook the situation. Not enough to try and check how your mentor was doing. 
Drawing out your knives from your thigh halter, you greeted the fight with a vicious grin. Once there may had been a time where you had used to hold back, but you couldn’t remember any of it. Those days were long over and given by their blind reaction, they all underestimated you and they would be sorry for it. The first hit felt freeing, like a calling to a greater power. This was what you were born for, trained to master and dared to live. 
Their throaty groans and roars echoed in your ears as your knives struck into some of the weakest points of their bodies, their soft skin lushly craving in, standing no chance against your quick movements. Until they got ahead of themselves, one dared to grab after one of your knives, walking into open fire as it dived deep through his arm, blood splashing right in your face. 
Fuck this shit.
Fueled by every single of their groans, you struck over and over again, fighting your way through the newly formed group of opponents until all of your gymnastic and tactic skills weren’t enough anymore. You felt the cold metal resting against your skull. You didn’t even have to turn to know what it was, your gut told you. Putting down the bloody knives back in your halter, you breathed out just as a shot rang through the chaos of the old factory. 
Your entire body tightened in surprise, however, the plump sound of a body falling down to the ground was the testimony you were waiting for. Gulping, still struck by the sudden shock, you turned slowly to see that someone had perfectly hit the pulse artery of your opponent’s neck.
“Were you waiting for death?“ someone called out. 
A guy, not much taller than you, dressed in a dark costume with a cape draped over his shoulders and a black mask covering his eyes, came closer to you. You’d never seen him before.
“And who are you?“ you asked, instead of answering his question. 
His dark, brown hair was long enough to fall into his face, almost covering his eyes. Nevertheless, it didn’t seem to be a handicap as he appeared to be an excellent shooter. 
His equally dark gaze met yours, eyeing you seemingly from inch to inch. “Doesn’t matter, but looks like we fight for the same side.“ 
Much worse than the shot was the sudden astonishing sound of an explosion that shook the walls of the entire factory, filling it with fire, broken glass and rubble that spread everywhere. Within one swift movement, the stranger had swung his cape over your bodies shielding you both from the massive heat wave and shatter that rolled over you. Your ribcage was moving heavily against his firm one as you found yourself held securely in his arms.
“Don’t expect me to thank you for that.“ 
“I won’t.“ he assured you bitterly.
The stranger pulled back his cape, revealing the destruction that had just occurred. Your body trembled next to his, feeling his assuring warmth leaving you. Although fear had become a foreign feeling to you, it always found a way to creep back up on you. It had been long since you had last seen your mentor and this was going far out of control. You couldn’t trust the blindness of trust anymore—you had to make sure she was fine. 
Without another word to the stranger, you headed straight toward the destruction, knowing something or someone had caused it and that your mentor couldn’t be far from it. Gun shots, followed by unfamiliar yells came right from the direction of the towering rubble. The explosion had wrecked down almost an entire wall, flooding the factory with the construction lights from outside. 
Chaos was erupting wherever she looked, drowning any of her thoughts with the sounds of gun shots and cries. Swinging out of nowhere onto the facade scaffolding, your mentor came into your sight, followed by a darker, taller figure. One that she never officially introduced you to, yet always talked about—it was Batman. Indulging in the fight happening around them, they were fighting side by side.
“Guess you’re right. We do fight for the same side.“ you murmured, noticing how the stranger had caught up to you.
The calm before the storm lasted for the briefest of moments. Much like your mentor, the stranger suddenly whipped backwards out of nowhere, and within one bones-cracking movement, he had brought down a man, stomping brutally on his hand to force him to let go of the knife he wanted to attack you with. His yells drove deep through your bones, vexing you in the best way possible. 
Glancing from the man to the stranger, you had so much to say but no words came out. 
“Then you better show me what you’ve got.“ he challenged you, nodding to the incoming trouble rushing toward you. You heard his knuckles crack, balling his fists as you drew out your knives, ready to take on any fight if it meant to keep your and might as well his mentor’s back free. 
As the group of Duke’s misfits came closer to you, you immediately recognized their change of weaponry—for the worse, as they had exchanged the usual guns to the Duke’s specialized ones. 
“Don’t get hit,“ you warned, knowing the greater danger of the Duke’s bullets.  
“Wouldn’t dream of it, princess.“ 
Furiously you turned around, sending him a glare for that pet name. He was cocky, overall too confident to be this cool through a fight that could potentially end his life, and it frustrated you to the maximum. This wasn’t some sort of game, no matter how much he tried to turn it that way. Neither of you wouldn’t make it out without any hurt if you didn’t watch out. He, however, recked his chin up, as if he was daring death by any chance to come by. 
Combat was nothing compared to a gun, it would always defy the other, but you were quick—quicker than them with their guns. The stranger was too, he struck perfectly every single time, bringing down men after men. Shots rang from everywhere, spiraling around you and your opponents, trying your best to keep yourself away from the bullets. 
But no training could make every flaw of one vanish. A high-pitch voice cried out from a far, ringing in your ears, causing you to turn your attention away for the split of a moment. On the rooftop of the factory next door was your mentor with a dark shadow draped over her. Your heartbeat got stuck in your throat, causing you to gasp after air. He would keep her safe, or that was at least what you hoped for. 
A laughter, followed by someone calling out for you, pulled you harshly out of your trance. The shot rung so insanely close by you that you were able to feel the vibration. You tried catching your breath, it had almost scraped your skin. 
No material was able to withstand the Duke’s experimental bullets—they were perfect into its smallest detail and were as deadly as their description. As soon as they entered one’s skin barrier, the bullet would shatter into millions of small pieces, wounding one very little at first, before painfully killing them due to internal bleeding. 
You looked the horror straight in the eye as another shot rung, seeing exactly how the bullet hit the stranger through his suit in the lower abdomen. All color vanished from your face. Within seconds, he crunched in pain, unable to keep up the defense and becoming an easy target for your opponents, but not if he was with you. 
Picking up the blades that you had dropped, you picked up one by one before they’d come to the realization what you were doing. Pushing yourself up on your feet, you threw the first knife, striking straight into the neck of one, and then another. The anger, and mainly worry for the stranger, blinded and caused you to go riot. You had no idea if the bullet had hit him or not, if he was bleeding already, however you couldn’t get to him, not if there were still people attacking you around. 
The last one plunged forward, wrapping his arm around your neck, choking you with his hold. Grabbing onto his arm, you stabilized yourself from his sudden act but were quick to think, ramming your knife the next second in the soft part of his thigh, probably slashing a few veins in the process. His groans echoed in your ears, as you pressed your lips angrily together, ripping it out again, only to wind it down again and again until he let go of you. 
His cries of pain grew louder as you kneeled him in his groin, letting him sack onto his knees. His angered eyes were glued onto you. The only words that escaped his mouth were bad names, but you didn’t care, it would be his last ones. Your knife slashed his throat, ceasing away his voice, having the blood splashing right in your face as you dig your knife deep enough for him to never speak again. 
The voice of your mentor echoed through your head. Ever since the beginning, she had taught you that death was the last option, and although you could have punished that man without killing him, it was what he had deserved. 
Glancing over to the stranger, you instantly banished any further thought of regret out of your head, running over and crashing right down on your knees next to him. His breath whistled through his throat, his chest only heaved with struggle causing your hands to become shaky. He couldn’t die in front of you after just saving your life, this wouldn’t be fair. You took a closer look where the bullet hit, checking for the awful impact, as relief rushed over you. The Duke’s ultimate weapon may not be as unavoidable as he thinks. The bullet had struck deep into the hard shell of his suit, withholding the full impact of it. 
“Thank God,“ you breathed, meeting the stranger’s helpless gaze as you held onto him. 
The unsteady metal platform underneath you vibrated under the jolt as someone—might add elegantly—swung their way onto it. In-between the chaos of it all, your mentor came closer to you, noticing what had happened. Kneeling down on the opposite sided of the stranger, she leaned down, also inspected the wound with great fear. 
“He’s lucky,“ you told her, pointing at the bullet entrance. “The suit shell stopped the bullet, somehow. I can stabilize him and then we can go find the Duke.“ 
“No,“ your mentor interrupted you immediately, brushing the dark brown hair of the stranger out of his face, a motherly gesture, as if she knew him. A concerned, yet loving gaze hushed over her face as you watched her closely. “You need to bring him away from here, somewhere safe. Check on him and make sure he survives the night. I’ll come for you.“ 
As you processed her words, you shook your head. This had become the biggest mission for your mentor and you since the beginning of it all. You had hunted down the Duke for almost an entire year by now, only for all of this to turn out much bigger than either of you had expected. With almost experienced firsthand what the bullet could do, there was no way in hell you would let her do this without your help, even if she didn’t need it. You were trained for this, and for this only. You couldn’t let her do this on her own. 
Letting go of the stranger, you pushed yourself up and caught her wrist. “No, I’m coming with you.“ 
“We’ll handle this, trust me.“ she said, grabbing your hand, squeezing it tightly before letting go of you, ready to storm into the next fight. “Please, do me the favor and protect Robin.“ 
Jumping off the platform, she was quick to getaway, leaving you behind with the stranger. 
“No, I can’t,“ you yelled out, “Selina!“
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Your eyes had burned as your mentor had turned her back on you, and even though every fiber of your body argued to go after her, you did as you were told to. 
Unlike you, the stranger didn’t argue when you had draped his arms over your shoulders, helping him to get back up on his feet. His face had contorted in pain as he straightened himself. Without any second thought about it, you had reached out for his free hand to press it together with yours against the wound, because even though you didn’t know him, you couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. You had spent the entire past months analyzing every data and material about the Duke’s bullets you could get your hands on, knowing the brutal impact they caused all too well. 
As you had made your way carefully through the rubble of the factory, headed outside, a car came into your view. You didn’t care whose car it was, only having on your mind that you were in need of one to take the two of you somewhere safe, and you were glad that the stranger apparently didn’t care either. 
Gotham City’s streetlights flickered past you as you rushed through the late night traffic, driving out of the city, stopping somewhere in-between the highway and the next suburb at a familiar run down motel, where rarely anyone ever willingly stayed at. It was run by an old lady and her son, whom received anonymous checks with money once in a while for her unknown guests. It had served your mentor and you well many times, it was the perfect hideout when things got wrong as no one would ever question it. 
Given the dried blood all over your clothes and face, and the weapons strapped onto almost every limb of your body, you were more than thankful now to not go up and having to pay for a room. Instead you simply had done it as always—cracked the lock open and entered as if the place belonged to you. 
The blood hardened on your face, yet you could feel it cracking when you found yourself kneeled in front of the stranger, whom you had placed into the dusty, old wing chair. With great carefulness and even greater improvisation, you tried your utter best to take care of his wound, patting with a cloth soaked in cheap vodka from the minibar onto the wound. A sharp whimper left his mouth. 
“I’m sorry.“
“It’s fine,“ he falsely assured you through gritted teeth, looking down at you. 
Ignoring his lie, you shook your head as you continued to clean out the wound. It was far from being anything merely close to being fine, it was worse than you had thought. Although the hard shell of his suit had stopped the bullet’s full impact from entering his body, it had burned partly through the material, leaving a nasty, large burned scar on his lower torso. Unclothing him without hurting him at the same time seemed impossible, the suit material had burned slightly onto his skin. 
“I’m almost done,“ you told him, not knowing what else to talk about. You didn’t even know him, and the silent tension in the room was suffocating you. 
He didn’t say anything in return to, instead, he tried his best to suppress any noise of pain. Besides the small vodka bottle, you hadn’t found much to take care of his wound. It was pure luck that it was only a burned flesh wound, instead of an open one. Otherwise, you would’ve been fucked as there was nothing laying around to remotely sew it close. By ripping and shredding a towel with your knife, which went dull in the process of it, you had managed to makeshift a bandage for him. 
“Here, lean forward,“ you took the prepared bandage in your hand. 
Slowly he leaned forward, groaning in pain with every movement. As quickly as you were able to, you wrapped the towel remains around his torso, pulling it tight. It didn’t need to hold for long, it just needed to help him survive the night. 
“It’s not ideal, but it’s better than nothing,“ you sighed, reassuring yourself that the bandage was secure enough. Split seconds later, you held in, noticing your hands near his naked upper body, so close that you feel his warmth, his heartbeat racing, his breathing slowing down. In the next, you felt his eyes scrutinizing every inch of you, making you glance up to him to meet his eyes, only to catch him with parted lips. 
”Thank you,“ he breathed quietly in return. 
You gulped under the tension of his eyes watching you, letting go of his hips as you pushed yourself away from him until you could lean against the end of the bed. For the first time in this long night, you felt some sort of relief as you leaned your head back against the old mattress. Every part of your body felt tensed and sore, and while you tried your hardest to stay wake, you craved nothing more than to crawl into that dusty bed and get some rest. 
But you didn’t close your eyes. You couldn’t fall asleep, not until you saw her again and knew that nothing happened to her. Looking at the stranger, you were sure he felt the same way as he moved around unsettled in that chair, feeling miserable as he was unable to do anything due to the crushing pain that kept him sitting right there. 
“So, you’re Robin, huh? Batman’s little sidekick?“ 
A muffled chuckle escaped his mouth. “I’m far from being little.“
“You’re not even a head taller than me.“ 
He shrugged, regretting it immediately as another sharp whip of pain hit him. “So what, I’m still growing, unlike you probably.“ 
He wasn’t wrong about that. 
“You’re the Kitten everyone talks about.“ he said after you hadn’t said anything in return to him. 
You pressed your lips to a small smile. “That’s at least what everyone calls me.“ 
He pushed himself further down in the chair, letting out a breathy groan in response. “I already guessed that that wasn’t your real name.“ 
Meeting his dark gaze, you replied, “Well, I’ll take that Robin isn’t your real name either.“ 
“No, it’s Dick.“ 
“Dick? For real?“ you snorted, seeing the annoyance written all over his face as he rolled his eyes. “No, I get it. Short for Richard, right? I’m Y/N.“ 
He didn’t say anything in reply to that. You’d received nothing beyond a simple, barely recognizable nod. Not a false ’nice to meet you’, nor a silly comeback comment about your name. Instead, he and you fell into silence again, heads resting with eyes so heavy, drained from any energy and feeling so desperate for rest, yet neither of you dared to fall asleep. 
“You still have blood on your face.“ 
You felt it, how it dried down all over your face, cracking with every movement. Once your immediate reaction would have been to touch your face in astonished shock, now however, things were quite different. Instead, you sat there doing absolutely nothing about it. “I know,“ you replied quietly, “I don’t care.“ 
It was the truth, you didn’t a bit. It left you cold. 
“What do you care about?“ 
The tone of his voice clearly mocked you, although its tiredness, and it made you furious. Let alone looking at him suddenly made you regret that you had saved him as he was the reason you were stuck here. The reason why you weren’t with your mentor, fighting alongside her like you were supposed to. Now all you were left with his mockery tone and the bitter unknown of your mentor’s well-being. 
Batman may was with her, and God knows, what a skilled fighter he was, but that wasn’t enough for you. Your mentor and you had stood together for years now after she had taken you under her wing, no one knew her better than you did. You knew every move of hers, you knew when you were about to win, as well as when to give up a fight. No one could protect her as you could.
For months, you had watched the Duke and his following, trained and prepared to overthrow, only to end up being stuck with a stranger in a motel room.
“You know what I do care about?“ it left your mouth quicker, more harsher than you had intended. “I care about Selina. I care about the mission I had with her before Batman and you came along. We’ve had a plan, it would have all been fine if you hadn’t showed up, because now I’m stuck here, not knowing when or if she comes back, and that’s all your fault.“
“If I hadn’t shown up, they would’ve shot you right in the head.“
“So it be!“ you cried out.
He scoffed. “You can’t be serious.“
“Oh, I fucking am.“ 
All the pain seemed forgotten as he sat up straight, his eyes so sterling furious.
“Look, I understand exactly how you feel, but this was so much bigger than either of us had expected. We would’ve only been a burden for them, instead of help, and you would’ve been dead if I hadn’t been there to save you. As much as you have saved me with this.“ he argued, his voice cracking by the end, motioning to the bandage you had made. “I know this unknown sucks, but they will make it through. They’ve faced worse together already, have a little faith in them. She’ll come back for you.“ 
Hot tears shot in your eyes, as you loosened your balled fists. Facing away from him, you blinked them away, trying your utter best to keep yourself contained. You felt like a fool for reacting this intensely, especially in front of him. You’d noticed yourself a while ago how bad it had gotten, how much you depended on your relationship with Selina. She was the only family you had left and although she was far more experienced than you, letting her alone in a situation like this scared you. 
Your dependence made you vulnerable, and somehow you were glad that Dick didn’t use that as an advantage against you. Instead, he had said what you had needed to hear, almost as if he truly knew what it felt like to be this helpless and weak.
“Do you think this is what we’re supposed to do, what they’ve secretly wanted? Exchange our real names, befriend each other, because we’re both sidekicks?“ 
His mouth twitched upwards. “If you rather want me to call you kitten, I can do that.“ 
“No, I like it when—“ you murmured, suddenly regretting being so harsh to him. “Call me by my real name.“ 
“If you call me by mine.“ he said sincere, and for the briefest of moments, you held onto that. It was perhaps the closest thing to a friendship you’d experienced in years. 
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Part 2 coming soon.
Thank you for reading — I'm always happy about feedback.
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oneshots-heaven · 3 months
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THE MOTEL ROOM - Teaser
Fuck this shit.
Fueled by every single of their groans, you struck over and over again, fighting your way through the newly formed group of opponents until all of your gymnastic and tactic skills weren’t enough anymore. You felt the cold metal resting against your skull. You didn’t even have to turn to know what it was, your gut told you right away. Putting the bloody knives back in your halter, you breathed out just as a shot rang through the chaos of the old factory. 
Your entire body tightened in surprise, however, the plump sound of a body falling down to the ground was the testimony you were waiting for. Gulping, still struck by the sudden shock, you turned slowly to see that someone had perfectly hit the pulse artery of your opponent’s neck.
“Were you waiting for death?“ someone called out. 
A guy, not much taller than you, dressed in a dark costume with a cape draped over his shoulders and a black mask covering his eyes, came closer to you. You’d never seen him before.
“And who are you?“ you asked, instead of answering his question. 
His dark, brown hair was long enough to fall into his face, almost covering his eyes. Nevertheless, it didn’t seem to be a handicap as he appeared to be an excellent shooter. 
His equally dark gaze met yours, eyeing you seemingly from inch to inch. “Doesn’t matter, but looks like we fight for the same side.“ 
— Part 1 online this Sunday.
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oneshots-heaven · 3 months
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TOM HOLLAND in Prada at the 29th Critics' Choice Awards
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oneshots-heaven · 3 months
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01/21/2024 - "A Different Man" premiere #Sundance #Sundance2024
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oneshots-heaven · 3 months
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THE MOTEL ROOM.
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From the beginning, Dick Grayson and you were trained and put up as the perfect rivals. Two individuals with different perspectives and motivations who yet want the same out of life.
Meeting each other over and over again, it is the same situation: one wins, the other loses — but it all ends in the same motel room.
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A three-part series set Pre-Titans in Gotham City, which will contain mature content and is not suitable under the age of 18.
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PART ONE: "The Begin" PART TWO: "The Middle" PART THREE: "The End"
Coming soon.
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oneshots-heaven · 5 months
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Coriolanus Snow in TBOSAS a summary:
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oneshots-heaven · 5 months
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Tom Blyth and Rachel Zegler at ‘THE HUNGER GAMES: THE BALLAD OF SONGBIRDS & SNAKES’ premiere
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oneshots-heaven · 8 months
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Send me your fav actors to help me decide, who I should write this about!
FYI: The actress alias 'you' will aged mid- to end- twenty. If you think any other age is more suitable, let me know, too.
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oneshots-heaven · 8 months
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Henry Cavill as Geralt Of Rivia (The Witcher. Season 3)
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oneshots-heaven · 8 months
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Hi, it's me, your long-lost friend!
It's been a while since I've last posted on this precious blog, as I have taken some long-overdue time for myself. As one enters their 20s, I feel like everyone gets a little lost, trying to figure out who they want to be, how they imagine their life to go, and then trying to make everything they ever imagined reality.
I won't dump all of my life story onto you, but to keep it short and sweet as explanation for my absence: I felt very lost in the beginning of the year. I felt trapped in my former relationship, and was severely unhappy with my job and living away from my friends and family. All that put pressure on me to enjoy my hobby, which is writing, and made it really hard for me to be inspired. So, I decided to pause posting on this blog, in order to someday regain the freeness and joy I always felt when I wrote anything for this blog.
As of now, my life has taken major turns that have led me on a much happier path. I've ended my relationship, unexpectedly found the love of my life along the way, successfully argued for more barriers in my consuming job, and I will be moving back to my hometown to enjoy life with my friends and family more closely.
I hope all this will lead to me enjoying writing and actually writing more often.
I would like to start off slowly by posting some short imagines (under 3k words), how I used to, and I think then I'll slowly will be getting back to my longer writings.
Thank you for all your love on my past writing in the past few months. I appreciate every message, even if I hadn't had the chance to reply to them. It all means a lot to me, as this always has been my favorite place on the internet. <3
All the love, your Nat
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oneshots-heaven · 8 months
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TIGHT SHIRT TOM SUPREMACY, ME THINKS 😌
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oneshots-heaven · 10 months
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Margot Robbie attends the 'Barbie' fan event in Sydney, Australia on June 30th, 2023
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oneshots-heaven · 11 months
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I just KNOW that my most listened song on Spotify this year will be Sleep Token's Chokehold and that's all I can think about while writing my never-ending Dick Grayson one shot...
That man does things to me, and so does Vessel's voice
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