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#platonic yandere
floatyflowers · 13 hours
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Dark Platonic Father! Mehmed The Conquerer x Reader
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For: @alicevila
No one can deny how sultan Mehmed favors you amongst his children.
There is no reason for him to dislike you, especially when you are religious, polite, and are kind and obedient towards him and your mother.
Even though you can be chaotic sometimes but Mehmed loves it.
You memorized the whole holy Quran by the age of five.
And your father used that as an excuse for you to recite a part of the Quran for him everyday as a way to spend time with you.
Everything goes well until your father becomes the sultan.
You are forbidden from leaving your chamber, you are always within sight of servants.
Your mother is even forbidden from seeing you.
When he visited you, you tried to convince him to give you some freedom but he refused.
"Father, please, i can't bear the thought of staying any longer inside of my chamber!"
"This is final, you are obligated to obey me, have you forgotten what our religion said about obeying your parents?"
"Obey them in what is right, but our religion also didn't tell you to treat me like a prisoner-"
"If locking you up is going to keep you safe, then I don't care"
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zwolfgames · 20 hours
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|Mistakes|Platonic Yandere Alastor x fem!reader
Requested: /
Warnings: Violence, manipulation, Alastor
Parts: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 (You are here)
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"Come, sit. We still have some hours to pass."
You nod simply and sit politely on the summoned couch.
The Radio demon sitting at a not so comfrotable distance. Checking out your jellyfish cap from above.
"So tell me, my dear. How does one die and turn into a jellyfish? I'm so curious." Alastor hums in that slightly condescending manner.
"Burned at the stake."
You answer as un-emotionally as you could. It's been a long time since your death after all.... No use being upset about it now.
Alastor freezes for a moment, smile stiffening. "What was that now?"
"Burned, at the stake, like as a witch." You subtly glance at him.
Alastor seems just a tad bit caught of guard by that. Wich was strange... Nobody is meant to surpise the Radio Demon.
"Do explain, we have all the time." Alastor muses, now totally intrested in what tale you're about to tell.
"It's long ago, so I'll spare you the details-"
"I want the details."
..."Alright..." You began, recalling your life on earth... In unfortunate times. You told him the tale of your adulthood, when you had been married off by your parents to a richer man, as was standard.
You had never truly wanted a lover, for your own reasons. So when your husband had eventually gotten in his head that it was time for children, he may have come off too forcefull, you may have gotten scared...And he may he landed himself in the fireplace.
Perhaps it's ironic that you both died in the same, burned.
Alastor sat silently, listening to your every word as if it were gospel. He was incredibly intrigued at the vague mention of your unneed for romance.
He found you two more similar by the minute.
Thrid mistake: Romace is moronic, yes.
"You don't deserve to be here." Alastor speaks up after he let your story sink in for a moment. You freeze at the words, taking them more hostile then he meant.
"Excuse me?" You blink in confusion, not wanting to sound offended.
"You're excused..." Alastor smirks.
"No, I mean in hell. You barely did anything wrong... Just one murder? To save yourself? Come on now, you're a saint compared to the demons I know. Perhaps that's why you're so enticing." He leans to you to look into your eyes trough your deadly veil of tendrils.
"Its still a sin." You frown. It's obvious that the demons restraining himself from unescesailry touching you.
"Y/N, wouldn't you like to live in a safer area? Not one where your appartement may fall appart?" Alastor tilts his head, red and black hair bobbing to the side.
"I uhm... can't afford that?" You mention awkardly.
"What about, you come live in my territory, free of charge. All I want from you, is your compagnionship." Alastor smirks further."If this is a deal, then no thank you- respectfully." You begin.
Alastor halts you with a hand raised."No deal, just a little promise between friends."
You look into his eyes for a moment.
They don't give away anything in the slightest...
It's like you're being urged to agree.
Your appartement was in ruins..
He wasn't that bad to hang out with...
It couldn't be that bad, could it? It would be safe....
"I'll... do it? Pinky promise." You say unsurely.
Alastor visibly brightens as you stick your hand out from under your stinging veil, to pinky promise.
"It's a promise."
The rest of extermination had gone by quickly, Alastor and you had just talked more, he shared some of his own answer, wich he insisted were rare to hear.
When the battle of angels was finally over, the ruckus outside stopped and Alastor just... dissapeared, saying he had to get your residence ready.
You honestly just tought he had changed his mind and left you in your still blocked off appartement to starve.
So, as any logical person, you started making your way out, trying to get trough the rubble to get to your window, because you knew damm well that the hall way was totally ruined too.
After too much trouble then it should have been worth, you made it to the window and climbed out like worlds most inexperienced firefighter.
Landing safely on the yucky streets of hell, you took some steps back to take in your ruined appartement, years of work, gone!
You take just a moment to feel bad about everything before walking down the sidewalk to go think about what you'd do now.
It's a shame you only got half an hour to yourself before an all too expressive Radio demon appeared behind you. Quickly halting your walk with a black tentacle before you on the sidewalk.
"Why were you not in your appartement?" Alastor smiles, tough he hoped you didn't notice his little twitching eyelid or the way his sharp fingers were twitching occasionally.
"I was scared it would collapse." You explain calmly. The radio demon can't help but feel like he isn't fully in control here because of your stupid tendrils.
"It wasn't going to, my dear." Alastor reassures and tries and fails to find a way to lead you away by the shoulder.
"Well I didn't know that..." You frown slightly. Alastor falters and bends down to meet your eye again.
"Turn that frown upside down, dear. You're never fully dressed without a smile." Alastor motion to his own sharp toothed smile.
You give in and force a smile upon your face.
The Radio demon is almost offended at your fake little smile. But no matter, he'd make you smile genuingly soon. He did get you a nice house to live in, after all.
If he can't get your soul then the next best thing might aswell be having you as close as possible. In his territory. In a safe place.
Untill he figured out how to cut of those tendrils...
The next weeks went by smoothly. You had moved into the house you were promised and Alastor never failed to visit you daily.
Why he kept on his intrest, you didn't know, there wasn't anything to gain from you.
But well, you suppose overlords had diffrent plans..?
And they did... have very diffrent plans.
Like keeping a wonderfull compagnion such as yourself.
Eeveryday, Alastor got closer to finding a way to keep you, to cut off those pesky tendrils and just have his now dubbed 'friend' with him.
Surely you wouldn't mind. You wouldn't need those stingers anymore when he's here to protect you. And there's no reason to be scared of him since you both know he'd never touch you inappropriately.
Just all the time...And that forever.It's okay to hold your 'friends' isn't it? Especially if they're as cute as you...
Wich is why you found yourself in the middle of a tea party.
Your life had been peaceful and easy ever since Alastor let you live in his territory.
Altough it seemed as if none of the other residents wanted anything to do with you, you managed.
You had Alastor to keep you compagny.Just like today.Just a tea party.
The Radio demon took a sip of the tea you prepared.
You did the same.
He stopped.
You didn't.
And in one swift swoop, you found yourself wacked agaisnt the wall like a ragdoll. In complete confusion.
Seeing as nothing was supposed to even be able to touch you. No less harm you like this.
So with the pain tolerance of a toddler you slumped to the ground in pain. Clicking of shoes stopping right before you.
"You'll be fine, my darling." Alastor reassures as he looks down at you.
You gasp for air and get met with another hit. Onto the ground you fully went.
A painfull thud was felt against your head and you were out like a light.
Much to the Radio demons amusement.
You even looked peacefull, beaten up on the floor.
It was eternal.
And now it was his.
This sinner.
This sight.
All his.
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_____☆_____
Yo, I made the thing. I don't know.
Also on Wattpad
Lol.
Have a nice day/night.
Requests are open as always.
Words: 3565
Tag list: @ceramic-raven , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @ellaprime7 , @ratchetprime211
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deaddovedecadence · 2 days
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hc for moonlight verse were reader is far more lenient w damien than everyone else since he’s the youngest? he’s just baby
ooh yes, like imagine it, You’re furious at dick for touching something without your permission and damian walks in, looks at the argument and hands you back a sweater of yours and leaves silently.
“Why do you let him have whatever he wants?”
“You do too, ya know.”
“I do not,”
“Damian hasn’t done anything wrong. He wasn’t the one that decided to kidnap me.”
Dick who then has to decide if the in that damian has with you is more important then his pride.
“You know what we need?” ”…what?”
“I think you need to train with me.”
:)
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lovelybrooke · 3 days
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I really love your When does the companions realise they love Reader request! Can I request how Dammon, and Zevlor realise they love Reader?
Okay! This probably won't be as long as the other companions but I hope you enjoy.
Here is the post about the companions if anyone would like to read that.
masterlist
---
Dammon
Dammon always found you interesting. 
You were--strange, to say the least. Bumbling around the grove, clearly surprised by all you were seeing. It was slightly amusing, how you tried to act like you weren't shocked by his people. And when you bounded up to him for the first time, requesting to purchase some weapons, he couldn't deny you were cute, your fascination with everything, your wonder filled eyes. But what was more interesting than all that was how determined you were. How brave you acted. No matter how clearly things were getting to you, you kept on pushing through it. 
Seeing you at Last Light Inn was surprising to say the least, and he couldn't deny the solace he felt when you came into view, alive, and with people who could surely protect you. It filled him with a strange sense of relief, seeing you so safe. But he couldn't help but also feel a small sense of envy--that had to be it. You were adventuring, saving the world, while he was stuck with the other refugees. He should feel grateful, that he's alive and that you're here to keep it that way. But when the wave of disappointment washed over him as you visited, Karlach in tow, begging for a way to fix her engine, he almost didn't want to help you. The tight feeling in his chest was too overwhelming as he pointed to areas of interest on your map, each locations for infernal iron.
And when you returned, the infernal iron in hand, he almost couldn't believe it. He wasted no time helping Karlach, but watching as you hugged her, as her hands gripped your shirt and as she nearly wept, the feeling, the envy--the jealousy, it was almost too much to bear. He felt a frown grace his face as you eventually left her side, her hand still in yours. 
Dammon thought it was interesting how easy it is for you to bewitch people, trapping them in your mesmerizing presence, until even breathing seemed too overwhelming without you. He thought it was interesting how you clearly didn't seem to realize the power you held over people, and maybe that's a good thing, you could do a lot of harm if only you commanded it. And as you left his gaze, heading towards Moonrise Towers, Dammon wondered if flames of Hell burned as hot as his devotion towards you. 
Zevlor
Zevlor is a leader. The refugees, his people, they come first before everything.
As a leader, he knows how stressful it is, having the weight of so many peoples lives on your shoulders. Maybe that's why he pitied you, why he felt too deeply for you and your struggles. He felt bad when he tasked you with helping his people, he felt bad when you were tasked with saving the grove, and he felt bad seeing you at the party, which was meant to be for you and your companions, alone. 
He was aware of your situation--whether or not he believed it was another story. But regardless, he felt for you, he understood your plight. But seeing you near the water, watching as your eyes stared into the deep, dark abyss, his heart sank for you. 
Zevlor didn't see you again for a while, but the far away look in your eyes remained ingrained in his mind. It stayed with him as he traveled through the Shadow Lands, as the Absolute Corrupted his mind, and as he lay waiting there in that pod, awaiting his eventual death. But then you came, with your companions readily behind you of course, and you saved him, again. He felt useless, having to be saved another time. He was meant to be the leader, to hold his own, to protect his people. And now he's failed. 
But your eyes--they changed. They were brighter than before, bravery and ambition flaming in them. It was almost strange if it weren't for the circumstances, how different you were from the last time he saw you. It’s almost comforting in a way, seeing you blossom into something stronger. But at the same time, it was just more proof how far he's fallen, how he's failed his people. 
Zevlor was a leader, but now, he knows he isn't welcomed with them anymore. He wonders if you felt the same as they surely did, if you thought him a coward, weak, unreliable. He likes to believe you're different, that you'd welcome him with open arms, with the look of concern like when you saw him trapped in that pod. He likes to believe you would've comforted him if he didn't leave, if he didn't run like he always does. 
Zevlor likes to believe that he isn't a coward, and that you think of him just as highly as he thinks of you. Because in truth, he thinks of you a hero, a warrior, a gift. He thinks of you as he escapes the mindflayer colony, as he travels to Baldur's Gate, and as he stares into the deep, dark, watery abyss, longing for something he knows he doesn't deserve.
---
A/n: I don't know how to feel about Zevlor's part but I really liked how Dammon's turned out.
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knyontop · 2 days
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Hiii!! I really love your works they’re really awesome and they bring me comfort! I wanted to ask if it was ok to do some Platonic Yandere Creepypasta x Teen Reader who’s like extremely traumatized and shy and untrusting but in secret they’re kind and caring and just wants love and to be babied. :33
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₊˚ ‿︵‿୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿ ˚₊
OFC MLLLL
Platonic!Yandere!Creepypastas x teen!reader
Ft: Jeff the killer, Slenderman, Ben drowned, and our amazing, beautiful, handsome, reader
Tw: Blood, gore, forced affection, abuse, murder, cussing, manipulation, possessiveness, jeff is a whole warning himself😭😭
Jeff:
・when he first meet you, your un-trusting nature made him amused, he likes when people are nervous and timid about him.
・he would poke fun at you and spook you, he loved seeing people cower below him. It feed his huge ego.
・tho your shy nature made him feel protective over you.
・he didn’t know why, he just felt as if he had no NEEDED to shield you from the worlds wrath.
・He would follow you around and you didn’t know why, the more he was around you tho the more you opened up to him.
・When Jeff actually started to get to know you he started getting more and more possessive. Like an overbearing
Older brother.
・Jeff would start to isolate you and keep you away from the others, the only person he would really let you see besides him is slender and Ben, and a little bit of Lui.
・He would try to make you hate the people he hated. (Cough cough, Jane.)
・He wanted you to rely on him and ONLY HIM. HE IS ALL YOU WILL NEED WHY DONT YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND THAT??
・You needed him, you were to naïve and shy, and weak. You needed someone to protect you and help you, and that someone is him.
・Its okay that you didn’t understand that yet, dont worry, Big brother Jeff will take care of it!
“Dont worry kid, your big brother jeff will handle it.”
・He will hug you while having a knife at your back telling you to not leave him, he also threatens you to keep your little mouth shut. Cant have Slender knowing can we
・Jeff will manipulate you to think all of this is normal and this is what siblings do. (Its not)
・He likes to bring you with him on missions and make you watch him kill his victims brutally as a punishment, he says its just discipline and your being overdramatic about it. Plus you also kill people dont you?
・When you call him a monster he will then turn it around on you because you do the same thing he does, your both the same. Your both monsters.
・Jeff has noticed that you just melt into his arms even if you dont like it or not and he will mock you and tease you for it.
“Look at you, such a dumb little thing. You just fall into my arms. Your so naïve, so its a good thing you have me!”
・Just dont be a brat and obey him! Its that simple, right?
“Your such a brat, you should be grateful that I even bother hanging out with you.”
・He will tell Ben to make sure you keep your mouth shut and make sure your being a good little kid, Ben doesn’t complain because Jeffs his best friend and your just another pitiful human being that happened to step into the Slender mansion.
“Look kid, just listen to jeff. Theres nothing you can really do now is there?”
・Ben does feel bad, but hes a very sadistic being.
・If you piss of Jeff enough he will kill someone in your old life you cared deeply about, he will make you watch the blood splatter everywhere, he will make you watch him stab there chest repeatedly, he will make you watch the guts fly everywhere.
・The funny thing is Jeff knows that this is wrong but he just doesn’t give a fuck.
・It all goes to far when he breaks you and you have a full on mental breakdown, thats when he actually feels genuinely bad. <3
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I had fun writing this🎀
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Platonic Yandere Harpy Hawks has my heart.
I’m in love with the idea of him just smothering Reader Chan with affection, preening their wings, hand feeding them and snuggling them. There’s also him giving Reader shiny objects and toys so they don’t get bored.
Or them just communicating in chirps or in coos, very bird like noises.
(Funny idea: Dabi tried replicating how Hawks’ communicated with you, only for him to get hissed at and angrily chirped at.)
There’s also him going absolutely ape shit when finding out that the league has you, just straight up fucking their territory up.
As well him picking fights with Dabi randomly. Dabi could be minding his own business and Hawks will come out of nowhere.
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He’s such a goofy little guy
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itsabouttimex2 · 23 hours
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Hi, I was wondering if you could do platonic yandere monkiefam and bull demonfam with a younger sibling/child that is blind but can sense vibrations, like toph from Atla
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Monkiefam with a blind Y/N
Out of all three of them, MK struggles the most with your blindness. He means well, he really does! You didn’t grow up with the ability to sense vibrations and interpret them- you had to learn. And sometimes he thinks back to the days before you did, comforting you in his arms after a nasty spill brought on by a rearranged environment. He thinks back to getting into fistfights with bullies and pranksters, how he would see red each time someone would snatch things away from you or knock you over- and he remembers the feeling of teaching them to keep their hands off of you.
“I’m not trying to baby you,” MK loudly insists as you struggle in his grip. “But you need to take this with you if you’re going so far out!”
The two of you continue to struggle against one another as your older brother tries in vain to pin a tracking device to your backpack, notably holding back so he doesn’t hurt you. “C’mon, please?! Just let me put it on already!” MK lessens the force he’s exerting on you, deciding to try and barter instead. “You don’t even have to keep it on! Just for today, Y/N!”
Predictably, his attempts at diplomacy fail and you’re left to wrestle even more fervently in his grip, trying your absolute hardest to writhe free.
And then something slips under your shirt- a fluffy, prehensile tail that writhes against your ribs and leaves you in a giggling fit, MK free to stuff the tracker somewhere deep inside your bag. “Monkey King! Knock it off,” you wail out, fighting against his playful assault. “Stop!”
“Nope! Hate to be a joykill, bud- but I agree with MK. You’re taking the tracker if you wanna head out to that new cafe. Honestly, I don’t see why you wanna go at all when I could just whip something up with my-“
“I am not eating hair! Now get your tail off me!”
It’s incredibly frustrating, the way they treat you. It’s not quite to the point that you’d say they’re infantilizing you with their actions, but it can come very close.
MK’s babying is mostly tolerable, given that it comes from a lifetime of watching over you before you learned to sense vibrations and find your way around. He was there for you at your absolute lowest, and he’s not gonna forget all the people that messed with you because you looked like an easy target. Still, as you grow older his actions feel less ‘protective’ and more ‘stifling’.
Sun Wukong is far, far more irritating. You’re just too easy to scoop up! He can sneak up behind you on his cloud and sweep you into his arms and keep you there for hours on end as you struggle and kick, futilely trying to escape his furry grip. No vibrations can travel through the misty mounds of his nimbus mount, leaving you well and truly helpless in his arms.
The Great Sage’s intention isn’t to make you feel weak or vulnerable, but he certainly won’t raise a fuss as you squirm into his lap so you can at least feel the vibrations that race through his body with each breath he takes- it’s something, at least. Wukong twists around a little to accommodate your body, letting your head rest again this chest, listening to his thrumming heartbeat. The outline of his body flashes in your eyes, something to ground and settle you.
“Dad’s gotcha, bud/hun… I’ve gotcha…”
As for your other ‘dad’, Macaque mostly watches you from afar when you’re with Wukong and MK. He prefers to step in when he has the chance to have you all to himself, springing umbral portals underneath your feet, the shadowy pit dropping you from the ceiling and into his arms with a smug: “Hey kiddo-going somewhere?”
And before you can yell at him for springing this nonsense with you again, you pause, because… hey, why not use a chance when you’ve got it?
“Dad,” you start, forcing the awkward word off your tongue. Already, the sable simian perks up, his ego stroked at your acknowledgement of the role he wishes to take. “I’m heading to a café. You want me to bring you something back?”
Macaque traces a clawed finger across the bottom of your face, curving up in a semi-circle motion: cheek to chin to cheek. His way of telling you: ‘I’m smiling’. Softly, his palm comes to cup your cheek.
“I’ll take you there myself, kiddo.”
It’s not that he’s a better person than MK or Sun Wukong. In fact, he’s a lot worse. He was a vindictive, egotistical villain not too long ago. You think of the Dragon Palace of the East Sea, smashed to pieces, it’s residents displaced and it’s people injured. Men. Women. Children. Each of them, innocent. Mere collateral damage to the simian.
He’s displayed no remorse or regret for his actions. The only thing he’s felt shame for is his long-ago submissiveness to his sworn brothers.
He’s not a good person. Not in the slightest.
But he’ll try to be one. If only for your sake.
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Bullfam with a blind Y/N
It’s easy to feel out of place here. Your parents and brother are demon warriors, powerful celestials, prideful members of their esteemed and feared clan. Your vibration technique is nothing short of impressive, if not outright groundbreaking, but it hardly holds to the level your kin can reach.
It doesn’t help that you are rarely given the opportunity to prove your worth, no matter how you strive and fight for those precious chances.
Instead, you’re often relegated to support and menial chores, your family finding worth in your services by putting you to task with (safe) time-consuming labor. And you… kind of enjoy it? Because instead of “Don’t touch the laundry machine, you don’t know what you’re doing”, it’s “Y/N, clear the table and bring us the grimoire we unearthed last month,” Princess Iron Fan says, brushing some hair behind your ears and clipping it into place.
You shouldn’t be so happy about such a mild thing, shouldn’t be happy to be commanded and directed. But it’s proof that they don’t see you as entirely helpless, and allow you to contribute in some way, even if it’s small.
There’s a degree of normalcy in it, something you crave. To be treated like a regular member of the family, responsibilities and all.
Unlike the Monkiefam, Y/N doesn’t have much freedom before they learn their vibration technique. The Bullfam keeps you on a much shorter leash, often locking you in your room during fights or training, refusing to let you potentially wander into harm’s way. MK would carry you across the street to keep you safe while still giving you a chance to explore the city with him, Red Son would lock you in your room and serve you exclusively blended meals to keep you from making a mess and spilling things on yourself.
Secretly, he misses making those drinks for you. It was a very strange and unwanted; if surprisingly heartfelt, way of caring for you.
After all, they got used to the ways they took care of you. Learning to utilize the vibration technique teaches you how to be independent, but also shakes up the dynamics you have with your family. No more gentled bundled around the fortress on the Demon Bull King’s hands, for example. He used to scoop you into his palms and let you sit there, safely nestled into plush purple fur. His steps grow more cautious now that you absolutely insist on walking on your own (and your father does want to make you happy, so he begrudgingly allows you to wander the walls alone) the taurine warlord doing his best to keep from crushing you underfoot.
Not that they’re suddenly going to stop being obsessed with your safety and welfare. You are still under strict orders and schedules, and they don’t go easy on you for breaking them.
And if you ever do step out of line?
Red Son has an incredibly devious method of punishment for you- snow boots.
Sounds like a joke, right? It sounds funny, almost. Your parents don’t seem to mind all too much, and Red certainly derives are least a little bit of amusement from the scenario.
It’s not funny to you, though.
The matter of getting punished for exerting basic control over your life aside- they’re taking away your crutch. Without a thought of how helpless and vulnerable you feel as result, how terrified you are to be plunged into darkness again, how bad it hurts to remember the days you spent crying as child, scared and alone when you got lost, no way to find the path home.
He’ll feel bad for doing this to you, eventually. He always does, no matter how many times he swears that this will be the time he’ll “Make you wear them for a full hour, and it will be raised to two if you complain, Y/N!”
You’re wrapped in a blanket and drinking tea with him by the time a half-hour has passed.
He loves you, after all. Even if he thinks of you as a blithering little idiot sometimes- you’re still his cherished little sibling.
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yanderes-galore · 2 days
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Could you make Yandere Platonic Nine with a reader who is helping Sonic recover the fragments of the paradox prism and at the same time becomes friends with Nine?
Now that he's become a villain, I'd like to see what a Platonic Yandere would be like.
Sure! Recently finished Sonic Prime so I am excited to write Nine in his "Villain Arc" lol. I have two Nine concepts to do but I'll have to figure out how as the general one may be similar to this 😅
SPOILERS FOR SONIC PRIME SEASONS 1-3
Yandere! Platonic! Tails Nine Concept
Pairing: Platonic
Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Clingy behavior, Sadism, Violence, Fear of abandonment/loss, Jealousy, Isolation, Kidnapping, Threats, Delusional behavior, Forced companionship.
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Nine is not used to company or friends.
Even when Sonic befriends him, he still struggles with personal connections.
When Nine first meets you, he's cautious.
You're helping Sonic... and while you both show him kindness, he isn't sure what to think.
Kindness is such a foreign trait to him.
Yet... as the events of the show continue, Nine warms up to you and Sonic.
Until his trust is betrayed, of course.
Nine would be a selfish yandere at times.
He's volatile, manipulative, and cynical.
Later on when given power, he's even sadistic.
Nine hasn't had much experience with friendship.
So when he finds such a thing in you and Sonic, he wants to keep it.
Nine has trouble trusting... but when he does, he's loyal.
He used to be so aggressive around you... yet now he's calm and even looks forward to seeing you again.
Even when held hostage, he trusts you and Sonic will save him eventually.
Nine struggles with physical contact.
It takes a long time before he can reciprocate physical affection.
Everything seems like a threat to him.
Being a loner tinkering with machines is all je really knew...
Then you came into his life with a smile and a heart full of hope.
Your positivity is irritating at first... yet now he adores it.
He's happy to consider you and Sonic his friends.
Right up until Sonic ignores his wants with the Prism.
Yandere! Nine would definitely occur around Season 3 of the show.
Recall how determined he was to take Sonic back to The Grim? Yeah....
Nine wants nothing more than to create a new world where you, Sonic, and Nine can be happy.
Yet Sonic only ever talks about Green Hill and you look at Nine with stupid sympathy.
Why don't you both get it!?
He just wants you all to be happy!
Long story short, while Sonic tries to gather aid... I imagine Nine would keep you in The Grim with him.
Nine's trust with Sonic has been shattered... but Nine doesn't want to believe you'd betray him too.
Who cares if Sonic doesn't want a new world?
Maybe you'll understand where Nine is coming from....
Nine still makes the Alpha Grim Bots to scout Sonic, but he keeps you in the Citadel with him.
Nine may be delusional when it comes to you.
He refuses to believe you'd leave him too... you may even play into that until Sonic finds a way to resolve this.
Reciprocating his delusions may calm Nine a bit.
Deep down he is scared of losing you.
He knows he'd be better off alone... yet he doesn't want to let you go.
You both can make The Grim your home.
The Prism can shape it in any way you both wish.
Nine may even try to make creations to impress you.
Who needs Sonic anyways? He can make you a robotic one.
Actually... you don't even need that... Nine is your best friend now.
He can just use Sonic as a battery and keep you.
Nine is sadistic when he has the Prism, he doesn't care who he has to hurt if it means he keeps you with him.
He claims he's a loner, but ever since he met you, he hasn't wanted to leave you.
Even to the point where he hugs you willingly now.
Nine is jealous when you admit you still miss Sonic...
You don't need that traitor.
If he has to... he'll kill him and whatever allies you made to keep you.
You should learn that you don't need to rely on anyone else.
Anyone but Nine will disappoint you.
Nine wants to be a good friend for you.
Not entirely having a healthy grasp on what friendship is, it comes off twisted and possessive.
He's upset you won't just reciprocate fully anymore.
Why aren't you positive anymore?
Even when Nine hugs you and makes you creations with the prism... you don't smile.
... Nine can fix that... he'll find a way.
Soon... Nine will use Sonic's energy to make you both happy in The Grim...
Then you and him will be happy... he knows it... he just has to wait... then you'll smile at him again, your dear best friend...!
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Guys, guys...
What about a Dark version of my The Last Animus AU?
Perhaps Reader was the last animus in their past life, but was killed by or were killed due to the adult platonic yanderes?
Maybe Reader was their adopted dragonet from a random egg they found or were given. Maybe Reader is their flesh and blood dragonet, but who inherited the magic or was magicked into being an animus by one. Maybe Reader was a mysterious hatchling given to them by an ex (friend, lover, enemy, etc. ). Either way, some of them had Reader with them since they were itty bitty, if not in the egg. And maybe they weren't always nice to Reader, or maybe they did care about them, but the moment they discovered they had magic... that they were an animus... They grew colder. Meaner. More dangerous and volatile than they were before. Yet Reader, for some reason, doesn't leave then or hurt them, even if the adults goad at them to do it. To prove how wicked they are. How dangerous and unnatural they are, for being an animus...
It comes to a head when Reader, when asked if they ever made a spell for the adult platonic yans or enchanted something for them, answers they did... Yet before they can say anything besides yes, they're driven out. Roared at and almost attacked as they try to explain themselves. Reader flees into the night/dawn, flying as far away as they can...
Yet the adults don't leave it at that. All of their worst fears about animus dragons, about Reader, were true... So with thundering wings they go to form a group of animus hunters, with the intent to stop the "monster" they didn't kill when they should have... It takes a few weeks, perhaps even a few months, to hunt down Reader. And it doesn't take but a few false kind words, a couple of hollow apologies and white-washed promises, to coax them out...
And it only takes a moment to send sharp chakrams through their wings, grounding them, while one of them delivers the killing blow, driving a long, sharp spear through their chest, impaling them into the cold earth below...
And all Reader can do is cry, laying there as their sobs and wails echo into nothing in the wide emptiness around them, their tears stinging their eyes and chest hurting with each breath and shiver... Their eyes burn, as they lay there in their final moments, realizing too late that they were never accepted... Never cared about... Never loved...
Their cracked sobs soon turn to gasping whimpers, and those too soon turn to fading sighs... And then they're gone...
And the world turns to H*ll.
The ground around them, stained and wetted by their blood and tears, freezes over, sharp spikes and crystals sprouting from the dirt, almost impaling several of the hunters. The very skies darken, the sun or moons blocked by shadowy clouds, as freezing rain and crackling hailstones crash around them. As the hunters start to panic, the earth starts to crack open, fissures forming and sending rocks tumbling into their inner chasms as the remaining dragons take flight, hoping to outrun the chaos all around them. Yet as they all separate, nothing gets better...
The adult platonic yans end up having to detour through a few kingdoms as they try to head back home, only finding chaos and terror everywhere they go. Entire cities on fire by blazing lightning... swathes and swathes of dead, rotting prey... Bloodied rivers and lakes, with frozen shores and burning water... And it only grows worse each passing moon cycle...
They eventually make it back home, sheltering inside to wait out what can only be considered the end of the world... And they're left with nothing else to do except look through their things, until they reach Reader's small cave/room/section... The small area is dark, until they light up a small lamp to shed light. They find well-loved scrolls and books, mostly fantasy, about happier lives and friendships and family... Worn blankets, curled up into a corner of the room, lined with almost every item Reader owned, be it a raggedy stuffed dragon or hand-made necklace or small wood and stone carvings... It feels... surreal, beinh in the room of their old child... Yet as they look further... they find hidden inside a carved-out book a small scroll... But written on the scroll are spells... spells made by Reader...
One to keep the adults' food warm until they eat it... One to keep their blankets warm at the perfect temperature... A few that protect their rooms and home from any accidents or disasters... Two that will alert Reader to when they are upset, and when it is safe for Reader to approach them... And at the bottom, written in scratchy letters, is a spell that makes it so the adults are unable to be mortally wounded or able to die an unnatural death...
And suddenly...
They realize they made the worst mistake of their lives.
They'd... They'd thought Reader was evil- they were an animus, they could do anything or make anything reality- they even admitted to enchanting them-!
But they didn't think for a minute that Reader had only used their magic to help them, had they? They hadn't even given then the benefit of the doubt. They'd... they'd just... yelled at them. Chased them off... And they even... They...
They feel ice creep down their spines, pain biting and clawing ooen their hearts and chests, strangling the words from leaving their throats...
They'd... killed... them.
They'd killed their own kid.
And whatever excuses or denial they had came tumbling and crashing down, breaking them thoroughly inside and out, leaving nothing but a shell of who they used to be.
They... they had helped murder their own dragonet. One they'd raised, who they'd known for their entire life-! They'd just, they'd- their talons- the screams- the wailing- dark ichor bubbling out- frozen dirt and burning skies and they were dead and its all their fault.
They leave, hoping to escape the new h*ll they'd created. Yet over the years, the decades... dragonets are born less and less. Eggs start coming out cracked, never to hatch. The kingdoms fall into chaos and fear as their world slowly dies around them... Until a discovery is made, kickstarting the first bit of hope anyone had had in ages: Animus touched items are unaffected by the deaths of the animi.
Bowls that double anything put in them; holes in the ice that always gives a seal to the hungry talons reaching down; spears that heal wounds; jewels that let others talk in their dreams; earrings of protection; armbands that summon real, fresh rain and storms; the list goes on and on, but one things is clear to everyone: Whatever an animus enchanted is unaffected by their deaths. Whatever those items do is not cursed or double-edged.
This gives rise to the cults.
They start small, dragons preaching about how the moons and spirits and great dragons have left them, abandoning them due to their greed and cruelty. That the animus dragons must have been their chosen ones. And now that they're all gone, they have started to kill their world. Dragons start praying, offering small items and begging forgiveness and making promises to never do such a sin again. And it only grows from there, as soon sacrifices are made, leaders are chosen for the cults, and each one starts to dedicate themselves to certain animus or to several, each writing down what was known about them and their life. Hymns and oaths are written down, soon chanted through the temples that rise from the ashes of the old world... And then the final act that starts to renew the world around them, starts to heal it:
The execution of those who used, hunted, or spread lies of the animi.
Greedy queens are ripped from their thrones, cast into the tearing talons of their subjects, who rend them limb from limb, out of anger and fear and desperation, for letting their greed and bloodthirstiness help bring down the dragons who'd served them faithfully. Animus hunters are soon the hunted, being brought back to the temples and either killed or converted, leaving nothing much either way. Any dragon who speaks ill of animi is disposed of or corrected, and this is how the new age begins...
It takes centuries before the first animus reincarnates.
The enchantment Reader made to keep them alive is the only reason the adults are still around, as they can't bring themself to take off the one thing they have left from them, the one last thing Reader did for them... They've had all of that time to grow, to change, to remake themselves and to start fixing the world around them. Perhaps they help dragons in need; perhaps they travel and share stories of Reader; maybe they even run their own temple or two, ones dedicated to their dragonet...
But when they find the new animus dragonets, as they slowly pop up over the different kingdoms...
They decide to raise them. To care for them. To accept then and love them and protect them, the way they should have all those many years ago...
It's lonely, waiting for the day that Reader will come back...
But they'd wait another thousand years if it meant they got to see them again, to apologize... To try and be a family as they should have been from the start... And they have plenty of siblings and other parents for Reader, don't they? Enough dragons and dragonets so they'd never be lonely or wanting for anyone... Just... please.... They beg their dragonet to come back... This time they'll do better, they promise...
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yandere-writer-momo · 2 months
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Not quite Yandere yet but here is a snippet of the Yandere single dad short story. And a kindergartener obsessed with you being his mom
Yandere Short Stories: Mommy (Prequel)
Eventual Yandere Single Father x Teacher Afab Reader
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A pale hand shakily held the drawing his son, Jesse, made in horror. Who on earth could the smiling woman beside little Jesse be? Had another snake tried ti sink their fangs into the Isbert family once more?
Liam Isbert was the heir to the Isbert family. A man of extreme power and wealth who many women (and men) tried to woo. Only one had successfully baby trapped him which resulted in Jesse’s birth.
“Who is this woman?” Liam glared at the elderly nanny who frowned at Liam’s anger. “What kind of wench had been filling my child’s head with lies? She is not his mommy.”
“I assure you Miss (last name) is just his teacher. Your son is extremely attached to her.” The nanny told Liam which only made him angrier.
Impossible. She had to be after their family’s money and that’s why she sunk her fangs into a child. How cowardly!
“Notify the school that I wish to have a private meeting with his teacher.” Liam told the nanny as he ran a hand through his dark, wavy locks. Liam was so frustrated with these gold diggers. They were all the same…
He might have to homeschool Jesse now…
.
.
.
Liam sat in the back of his limousine as he watched Jesse excitedly run into the kindergarten. Liam has never seen his son so excited for anything in his life.
The brunette took a long drag from his cigar when he saw a beautiful young woman head towards Jesse. A smile as warm as a ray of sunshine on her face when she saw Liam’s son.
The little boy hurdled his small body into his pretty teacher. Jesse’s arms wrapped around her legs, while his blue eyes stared up at her with so much love it made Liam want to puke. How on earth did this woman charm his antisocial son?
Liam reeled down the window and was about to scream at her when he heard her laugh.
“Goodness, Jesse. It’s only been a day. Are you that excited to learn?” (Your name) smiled down at the dark haired boy who nodded his head.
“I just wanted to be with mom-“
“Jesse, it’s Miss (last name).” (Your name) ruffled Jesse’s dark brown hair which made the little boy pout. “I’m your teacher.”
“Why can’t you be my mommy? You’re so nice to me…”
(Your name) laughed as she bent down to pick Jesse up. “Because I would have to date your dad and I don’t really have any interest in men.”
Jesse thought for a minute and then he scrunched his face. “Daddy is kind of mean and he’s smelly.”
“You’re not supposed to say your daddy is mean or smelly!” (Your name) loudly giggled as she carried Jesse into her class.
Liam sat frozen in his limousine in shock. She didn’t want to date him? And… what did Jesse mean by him being mean and smelly?
“Sir, your meeting with the teacher will be at three in the afternoon. Do you want me to take you to the office.”
Liam shook his head and reeled up the limo’s window. “Yes. That would be nice, Allen.”
For the first time in many years, Liam felt his heart flutter.
.
.
.
“You must be Jesse’s dad. It’s nice to finally meet you.” (Your name) warmly smiled at Liam who remained silent. Liam couldn’t hear a word she said due to how loud his heart beat in his ear drums. His beating muscle would bring a snare drum to shame.
“Mister Isbert?” Liam was brought back down to reality when his teacher addressed him. His green eyes focused on her concerned expression. “About your reason no for a meeting… Jesse seems to be quite attached to me due to his lack of a mother. I try to correct him but he seems adamant about it. I am so sorry to inconvenience you-“
“What is your motive?” Liam narrowed his eyes at the young woman who seemed shocked. Motive? Whatever did he mean?
“What do you mean-“
“How much money do you want? I’m willing to pay you if you leave my son alone-“ Liam was shocked when (your name) slammed her hands on her desk when she stood up.
“How dare you… I’m sorry that other people have wanted such things from you but I do not. I care about Jesse. He desperately wants a parent that loves him and he’s not getting that from anyone in his house.” (Your name) scoffed at Liam’s shell shocked expression. The young woman shook her head. “This is extremely unprofessional of me, but you never spend any time with your son so I’m not surprised you don’t notice his concerning behavior of wanting to be loved.”
Liam gasped when she slapped a file in front of him that was full of letters from Jesse. Dozens of notes asking her to adopt him. Why did his son want this woman so badly?
“Be a better parent before you point fingers. Now get out of my classroom.”
Liam felt his cheeks heat up and his heart pound in his chest. She didn’t want his money… she just wanted Jesse to be cared for…
Liam was shocked to see Jesse outside the door. Jesse’s little hands clutched his lunch pail so tightly, his knuckles were white.
“Jesse-“ Jesse shoved past Liam to stand beside his teacher.
“Mommy, I want to eat lunch together! Can you cut the crust off my sandwich? I don’t like the crust.”
(Your name) smiled down at Jesse and took the lunchbox from him.
“It’s Miss (last name), Jesse… but of course I can take off the crust.”
And that’s when Liam noticed the pink blush on Jesse’s cheeks. Jesse loved his teacher… and who was he to separate them?
Liam shoved his hands in his suit jacket pockets and left the school in a hurry. His fingers itched for a cigar to try to calm down the rush of emotions he felt.
Perhaps he’d apologize to Miss (last name)? He wondered if she liked roses?
Liam blushed at the thought of her accepting roses from him. She’d be so pretty in red…
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gotham-daydreams · 6 months
Text
Not Here
[Yandere! Platonic! Neglectful Batfam × Gender Neutral! Sibling Reader]
[Warnings: Mentions of neglect, Mild Yandere Behavior, Batfam being hella stupid.]
(Not really proofread. The birds and bats seeing that y'know- maybe not paying attention to people and neglecting them isn't a good thing. Chaos ensues. More of a development thing. Might be a little ooc?)
Tags: @bigcandlesmolbrain
Part 2 of this post.
๑۩۞۩๑—————————————————————๑۩۞۩๑
Bruce liked to think he was a good father, for anything that was worth. Or at the very least, a decent one.
He wasn't perfect by any means, but he felt like he raised his children the best he could, and had made them into responsible and diligent adults. Dick was a great example of this, and even if Damian was still growing up, Bruce had hope that he'd turn out to be good as well. The hardships his current Robin had to face would pay off in the end, Bruce was almost too sure of that.
Those he decided to take under his wing had their flaws, yes, but even if he didn't say it out loud or point it out often. He did believe that they were good at what they do, or at least were on the right path to becoming good vigilantes. Bruce couldn't help but be proud and prideful of where his children and sidekicks were, and could only look forward to how they would continue to develop as time went on. Despite their feelings towards him, and his own faults, mistakes, paranoia, and so on. Along with how he felt about them, and their flaws — he couldn't help but respect the people those in his little mess of a family where becoming, and turning out to be.
Or maybe he was both overestimating and underestimating himself, and the true effects he had on those he decided to look after.
Since, for a few days now, he felt like something was... off.
The Manor seemed quieter these days, and even if he couldn't remember a time where it was particularly loud, the detail felt misplaced to him. Sure, he hasn't hosted a gala or party in a while, but that didn't feel like it was the reason why the silence suddenly bothered him.
Bruce tried to think of all possible reasons, a little surprised himself that this feeling of his was bothering him so much, but the more he thought about it the more confused he became. There didn't seem to be a particular reason for this... and yet, just as he was about to put this feeling aside, he heard it.
["I, um, I was just wondering..."]
["Oh, uhh, that's quite alright! Oh, one moment please... oh! Second chorus... T'was brilling, and the slithy toves, did gyre and gimble in the wade..."]
It sounded like some sort of... play? Bruce wasn't too sure, but still decided to check it out regardless, wondering why something like that was playing in the first place.
So, allowing the sounds of the play to guide him, he continued on.
["Why- why you're a cat!"]
The voices grew louder as Bruce drew closer, interest peaked as he tried to recall and see of he knew this play. The lines sounding familiar, now that he was really listening to them.
["A Cheshire Cat. All mimsy were the borogoves..."]
Once Bruce rounded the corner he saw a... familiar face on the screen.
A student play was being filmed, and the play itself was Alice in Wonderland.
Whereas Bruce didn't recognize the actor for Alice, he did recognize the actor for the Cheshire Cat, but couldn't quite put his finger on it...
Was... was that...?
"Y/n?" He whispered your name, voice barely above a whisper.
No, it couldn't be. You didn't participate in any plays, and surely if you did he would've known about it. Even then, that didn't explain why he was seeing this now. The play itself had to have been a recording, since you looked so young...
How long ago did this take place?
["Oh, wait! Don't go, please!"]
["Very well. Third chorus..."]
["Oh no, no, no... thank you, but- but I just wanted to ask you which way I ought to go."]
["Well, that depends on where you want to get to."]
["Oh, it really doesn't matter... as long as I g-"]
["Then it really doesn't matter which way you go! Ah-hmm.... and the momeraths outgrabe..."]
Bruce was staring so intensely at the screen that he hardly noticed how the lines and voices faded into the background. His focus centered on you, disbelief gnawing at the back of his head.
He had never seen you smile like that before, not during all the times he's seen you anyway. Even if those moments themselves were small and short from what he could remember, the smile you wore during your performance felt... new in a way. Like something he hadn't seen before — not on your face anyway. Though that wasn't the only thing that made Bruce feel weird as he watched the play.
It wasn't anything to do with your acting skills. They were fine for the most part — and honestly considering the age you probably were during the time of the play, they might've been above average, or even a little higher than that. Not even the girl who played Alice, who also did relatively well, was the source of this odd feeling.
It wasn't the costumes or the set up, or even the lighting, and how he could faintly see the silhouette of other actors and such just behind the curtain, because of the camera angle. No, it hardly had anything to do with anything like that, but, how should he put this...
... How come he didn't know about this? How come he wasn't aware of this play before? Let alone that they had a recording of it, and that you were even a part of it... but Bruce still felt bothered by this whole realization because, well.
Why didn't you tell him about this?
"Master Bruce?"
The sudden voice snapped Bruce out of whatever trance he was stuck in, as he whipped his head around to face the source of it.
He huffed softly, "Oh, hey Alfred." Bruce greeted calmly, acting as if the butler hadn't caught him off guard.
Alred couldn't help but raise a brow at that.
Almost in a silent, embarrassed way, Bruce glanced off to the side only to notice that the recording was still playing, and so he decided to ask about it. Since, if someone knew anything about anyone in this Manor, it would be Alfred.
"Say... what's this playing on the TV?"
"It's a recording of one of Master Y/n's plays, Master Bruce." Alfred answered simply, almost as if it was common knowledge. "Apologies if it's too loud, I decided to play it while cleaning. I can change it or turn it down if you'd like."
"No, no it's fine... but since when has Y/n acted in plays? I don't remember hearing about this." Bruce stated, confusion growing as another emotion began to swell in his chest. One he was all too familiar with, but ignored for the moment.
"Since middle school, if I recall correctly, but it was only while they were younger. Having only been in three school plays in total, I believe." Alfred moved closer to Bruce as he looked at the screen, eyes softening for a moment as he watched you move along the stage. You had grown up so much since then, and the stage fright you used to have felt like nothing more but a faint memory now.
You wouldn't believe how incredibly proud of you he is.
"It's a shame they didn't do any more afterwards, since it would've been nice to have a few more recordings of their performances, but I suppose that's what happens when you find a new passion." He looked back at Bruce. That previous softness in his gaze nowhere to be found.
There was a certain way how his eyes looked at the billionaire, as if expecting something. As if expecting this.
Alfred had higher hopes, but you had left for a reason. Even if he knew what that reason was, it was only now did he see it more clearly. Especially as he witnessed Bruce's face shift into one of shock and surprise.
"They've always told you, Master Bruce, but you're schedule has just always been too full." Alfred handed Bruce a piece of paper, and Bruce took it wordlessly, looking it over.
It was a flyer promoting a play — the Alice in Wonderland play that was still going in the background — with the dates and times listed below, along with some of the cast members. Your name stuck out like a sour thumb compared to the rest.
Bruce did remember seeing this before, but one thing did still confuse him as he looked back at Alfred.
"I'm pretty sure you gave this to me at the time, not Y/n."
"That I did, sir, but that was only because Master Y/n was having some trouble with catching you attention, because they had wanted to give you the flyer themself. So I offered to give it to you for them." Alfred replied truthfully, cleaning up a little more while he was at it, and leaving Bruce to his thoughts for the moment.
He didn't remember you trying to catch his attention... but if what Alfred says is true then that makes sense, even if it made Bruce feel bad in a way. The feeling growing a little more when he realized something Alfred had said.
"And this happened all three times?"
"You sound surprised, Master Bruce."
Bruce ran a hand through his hair, eyes pinned on the flyer as he pressed his pursed into a thin line. Countless thoughts floated around in his head, all of them jumbled up and messy as he just didn't know what to make of this. Missing one was probably fine, and maybe two at a push, but all three? How could he have missed every single one?
Sure he was busy, but he didn't think it was this bad. Did he just forget? How did he not notice such a thing had slipped right past him?
All Bruce could do was sigh. There was nothing he could do about it now, and even if there was a way to make it up to you, he didn't know where to start, or if that would change anything to begin with. Besides, he didn't even know how long it's been since these performances had happened.
...
Wait a minute-
"Alfred, how long ago was this?"
Alfred just looked at Bruce, brows just barely creased before he took a breath of his own.
"A few years ago, sir."
What?
At the look of disbelief on Bruce's face, Alfred could only stand and straighten himself out as he calmly asked, "How old do you think Master Y/n is, sir?"
"Oh, well, they're..."
... Bruce couldn't even think of an answer.
Obviously you had to be in highschool since it had been years since you've performed in a play, with the Alice in Wonderland play being one of them, but how old were you exactly? What year were you in? Were you a sophomore? Junior? Surely you weren't a freshman, but even then — what high school did you even go to? Bruce didn't think you were home schooled, or else he'd definitely notice that... or would he?
Oh no.
What if you already graduated? What if you already had gone and done something that not even Alfred knew about? Did you have a job? Where would you even work? Were you already in college? What college would you even go to? Did you manage to get a scholarship? What would be you major? Where would you be studying? Would you even stay in Gotham? Were you even old enough to be out on your own? Could you even drink yet? Could you drive? Did you own a car? Or even a motor bike? When was your birthday? Did it already pass? What's the month? The day? The year?
How old are you?
"I... I think I'm going to go and just check up on them." Bruce couldn't answer, and while he had a vauge idea. That's all it was, an idea. So he moved the subject along, and made his way up the stairs, leaving Alfred behind. Just watching as the world's greatest detective left the room, all because he couldn't figure out the age of one of his own kids. One he had chosen to take in and watch over like all the rest, and yet left behind all the same in the process.
Alfred could only sigh to himself as he paused the recording of the play. Ejecting the disc and putting it in its respective case, and placing it in its usual spot.
This was the only way, he decided. This was the only way.
--------------
Bruce didn't feel much better by the time he reached your room. It took him mistakenly stumbling into two guest rooms before he finally reached it, and honestly he felt more regret over that alone.
Most of this time he hardly remembered that the room before him now was even occupied, let alone that you had claimed it as yours. What didn't help was that it was only now that he remembered introducing this space as your own, and yet he had forgotten that small detail so quickly.
Regardless, Bruce just pushed that all to the side as he knocked on the door, taking in a breath.
"Y/n?" He called out, only to get no respose. So he tried knocking again, but he still got nothing.
Sure, he was getting a little confused, but just pushed that to the side with everything else, as he stared down at the door knob.
... Should he?
He had to talk with you eventually, especially considering what he just figured out and how little he actually knew about you. He needed to talk with you. He couldn't just let this slide, not with what he knew now. He couldn't. He wouldn't.
So, be tried the knob, and was kind of surprised that it was unlocked. Though besides that little strange detail, he gently pushed the door open, and took a peak inside.
Oh. You weren't even here...
Bruce didn't know how to feel about that.
Regardless of that, however, he opened up the door a little wider, and stepped inside. What he saw only made him more confused, but also feel so much worse when he looked all over the room. How could this be...?
Various things were on your desk, shelves, and hung on the walls. Your room looked surprisingly clean, but honestly Bruce doesn't know what he was expecting. After all, he didn't even know your exact age or hardly anything about you, and even then — by the looks of things, he had missed out on so much more than he originally thought.
Trophies, awards, medals, and certificates were littered about your room. The very sight of them made the paper in Bruce's hands feel so much heavier, and yet he still held onto it as he further inspected the awards, and few pictures hung on your walls.
Every color was here, from bronze to silver to gold, and at some point it seemed you were able to get a consistent amount of silvers and gold. The awards themselves were from various events and activities that barely corresponded with each other. From fencing to swimming, and dance to pottery. From track and field to literacy, and gymnastics to cooking.
It was like you had tried to do so much of everything, and were trying to collect all of these awards from all of these different activities, rather than earn them because you deserved it for all your hard work and dedication to do that particular activity, but Bruce just couldn't understand why. Why go through all of the effort just to move on to the next thing? It... didn't make sense.
Right next to you black belt for martial arts, you had hung up the few medals you had gotten from track, and right below that were some awards you had for gymnastics. Beside your soccer trophies you had some kind of art award, and beside that was more awards and things you had received from playing and participating in other sports and activities. Bruce had no idea you were even into some of these things, but just from looking at your room, he could tell you weren't all that into or interested in some of the activities you did. Seeing as some activities and such had more awards when compared to others, but one thing in particular seemed to really catch your interest.
Music.
Not only did you have a whole wall and section of your room dedicated to it, but it felt more organized, and the placement of awards and such seemed more thought out in a way.
Countless awards littered the wall, and from the placement alone he knew you were proud of them. The pictures hung on the wall showed you shaking someone's hand as you either held up an award or album cover. You smiled, and Bruce could see how genuine it was as he felt like he could feel your happiness radiate off the photo itself. The people you were shaking hands with looked pretty happy themselves, and Bruce was a little surprised that he recognized them, but that made him feel more conflicted.
The people in those photos with you, were famous, and you had gotten those opportunities to meet them and shake their hand all by yourself.
All of these awards — they were only the finishing products of what you had spent all of your time doing. They were only small glimpses into the person you truly were, and as Bruce looked at the records you had hung on the wall, he could feel his own regret spilling out of his bleeding heart.
He wish he was there with you.
He wish that he had been there to see you even get half of these rewards that you undoubtedly deserved. He wish he got to hear the music you played, and what kind of songs you wrote. He wish he had been there to see you go on, and work your way up, with him being there as your support, and yet...
He had missed everything.
From the plays, to the matches you had, to the games you played in and competitions you participated in, and how could he forget your performances that even earned you such big, important awards. Awards that probably meant so much to you, because of how far it showed you had grown.
Bruce missed it all. Every little thing.
... He had to find you.
No if's or but's this time. No more excuses. He had to find you. Bruce needed to.
So he did a more thorough search of your room. Finally placing the flyer down on your desk as he looked around. He checked your closet, your bed, even under the picture frames, and moved some of the awards around, in order to better check and search for anything. Any hint that could point to where you had gone, and or where you might be. Any clue, any thing that could tell him about you.
He even made sure to take a mental note of the people in the photos, just in case he had to reach out to them and ask if they knew where you were by some off chance. Though that was only if Bruce was convinced that you weren't even in the Manor, and getting some extra information on you never hurt anyway. Seeing as he had a lot of catching up to do.
As he searched, he ran into various things. From equipment, art pieces — most of which were unfinished — and old notes, to other random items. Like an airsoft gun, some glass beakers, various ties, a pair of shades, a glasses frame, and a sewing kit next to a first-aid kit? Bruce didn't want to think about how the first-aid kit both looked used, and was empty.
Bruce even stumbled upon a fancy looking tuxedo he didn't remember buying you at all, but a small tag caught his eye and-
Oh, it was a gift from someone else, and with the note you left behind the tag — most likely with the intention of giving the tuxedo back — it was safe to assume that you and this person knew each other quite well...
Bruce just put the tux back. He would've gotten you a better one anyway if you had just asked, or if he even knew you needed one in the first place. Though regardless of that, he kept looking.
Eventually, he looked under your bed, and found a single box under there. Undisturbed... sitting innocently in the darkness.
Bruce didn't waste much time as he reached out and grabbed it, and placed it on your bed. There was a thin layer of dust on top of it, which Bruce found a little strange but kept in mind as he opened the box and looked inside. There, he saw a variety of notebooks and papers, and from the looks of things, the items in here had been collecting a bit of dust too...
When was the last time you touched these?
It seemed a little strange that these were tucked away from everything else, and clearly you didn't want other people going through it or even seeing them since you kept it so out of view. Were they diaries? Bruce would rather learn anything personal about you from yourself, he didn't want to go through your things like this, but considering the situation...
He sighed, and just picked up a random notebook. If this could help him find you, then so be it. He didn't want to do this but he couldn't leave you alone either. Not again.
Yet, he was so focused on looking through your things that he didn't even realize that someone had passed by, and noticed the odd room Bruce was in. A room that they themselves haven't seen before.
"Woah, what's this place? An old childhood room or something?" Dick asked as he invited himself into the room, mindlessly looking around, not really paying attention to anything in particular as he waltzed around.
"It's Y/n's room." Bruce stated bluntly, still looking over the dusty notebooks in the box. Some simply labeled 'Notes' or 'Practice', while one in particular was called 'Ideas/List & Progress' with little drawn sparkles around it. Another two weren't labeled with titles or words, and instead with small music notes doodled onto the cover in your favorite color. Though Bruce didn't know the color was your favorite.
Nevertheless, Bruce decided to look through one of the notebooks with music notes on it, completely missing how Dick had froze, and turned to look at him as if he was crazy.
"What? You've got to be kidding, right?" Bruce just gestured to one of the records on the wall, flipping through the notebook in his hand as he read through it quickly but carefully.
Dick, still not entirely convinced and honestly just really confused, looked at one of the records Bruce had gestured towards, and felt like he had just gotten ran over by a truck with how hard reality hit him. There your name was, signed and everything, with a well-known producer listened as well.
His eyes even darted to the other records, only to find the same thing, and for just one final check, he looked at one of the awards on the wall.
Your name was engraved on it.
"Holy-" He covered his mouth, more than shocked as he looked around the room again, hand falling from his face, "but that means-" Now Dick was paying more attention to the room, moving from one thing to another as he looked over everything now.
"How did they- there's no way they did all of this? And- what. They even did gymnastics?!" To say that Dick was in absolute disbelief and shock was an understatement. Yet he hardly had any time to recover or process anything as another person popped into the room, albeit only temporarily.
"I'm afraid it is quite possible, Master Dick." Alfred spoke up, catching the attention of the oldest sibling as he moved into the room, and set a stack of papers on your desk, right next to the flyer Bruce had set down.
Confused and curious, Dick looked at the stack once Alfred had pulled away from it, and picked up the first paper.
It was another flyer, but this time for some kind of solo event or concert you'd be doing. The date written down was a few days ago... a week or so having already passed since then, but how could this be?
Dick hesitated, but took another one as he looked it over. Again, it was for some kind of concert or performance, but the date and time was further away. Three weeks to a month having passed since, but how did they not notice? Didn't you say anything? Why didn't you tell them?
"This doesn't make any sense... why didn't Y/n tell us about any of these things?" He asked, mostly to himself as he continued to look through the various flyers.
"Why don't you tell me, Master Dick?" Alfred quipped, looking at Dick in a knowing way before stepping out of the room, "Now, I'll be heading off, but I do trust that both of you make the right choice this time around." With that, he simply left. Leaving Dick confused but feeling worse at the same time as he looked back at the flyers, mind racing until he spotted something.
Carfully, Dick pulled out another flyer out of the pile as he placed the others to the side. He recognized this one, but where had he seen it before? Was it...
... Oh god.
Dick whipped out his phone and checked his messages. He had to scroll down a bit, but he quickly found your contact and tapped on it. He flipped through your messages, hundreds upon thousands of which he never responded to, and even if that alone made he feel bad. When he found what he was looking for, he felt even worse.
He found a message of you sending him a photo of the flyer, and said how you hoped you'd see him there. The message itself had been sent almost a year ago, and as he looked back at the flyer, he didn't know how to feel. Yet he kept looking, especially as he spotted another familiar poster.
Some of them he was able to connect back to another message you had sent, and the further back he went the more he responded... but it wasn't much, and he seemed to leave you on read more times than not. He had made an effort, but clearly it wasn't enough.
Dick couldn't imagine how that must've felt for you, and he almost didn't want to. Yet he still continued to search through the flyers, and came across one he had an odd memory of. He did remember seeing a text for it, but also remembered hearing about it somehow? He wasn't too sure, but just incase he did decide to look through his voicemail. He didn't know what he'd find, but he decided to just have a little look, even if he wasn't sure he'd even find anything.
So, he matched the date of the message and scrolled until he found it.
The voicemail innocently stared at him, and Dick couldn't help but hesitate before he tapped on it, and let it play. Heart already heavy as he stared down at the flyer. The kind of look someone gave when they already knew it was too late, and Dick didn't know what was worse. The fact that he basically missed out on your entire life at this point, or that he had nothing to say for it besides that he was sorry, and had just forgotten about these things one too many times.
["Hey, Dick! I, um, I hope everything is going well and that patrol hasn't been too bad." Your voice wavered as you spoke. You were clearly nervous but you tried to push on anyway, and cleared your throat before you tried again.]
["How are you, though? I heard that you had a rough night the other day- and I know I'm not really into all this crime-fighting stuff like everyone else but... I just hope you're okay, y'know?" You chuckled nervously before you cleared your throat again, "An-anyway, um, yeah. I just- hope you're okay." The sound of a paper being fiddled with could be heard, and you took in a small breath.]
["So... I have this performance I'll be doing next Saturday- it's more of a competition really, since other musicians and stuff will be there too. It's at 7 o'clock, and I know you guys mostly work at night and everything- but if you could drop by or even just quickly come around at 8:15 that would be great! Since, um, that's when I'll be performing..."]
Dick looked at awards you hung on the wall as the voicemall continued to play. Based on the date of the performance he was able to find the award. You had gotten second place.
["It's um, it's a piece I wrote that's a tribute to your family- the Flying Graysons, that is, since we're allowed to play songs we wrote if they were approved beforehand, and it was! So, um, I really hope you don't mind. Your family is cool! Not that Bruce and everyone else isn't or anything- um, I'm going to stop talking about that before I say something stupid. But! I couldn't help but feel inspired so I, y'know-" you cleared your throat again. Clearly nervous.]
["Sorry for my rambling- but, yeah. You can pass by if you want or have the time, and it's right by that one place Bruce had that whole charity announcement on Monday. You can't miss it, there will be lights and all this other stuff- not to mention that it'll probably be loud considering things, but uh, yeah."]
["So if you think you can make it or pass by, it's at 7! Next Saturday! And if you can't make it by then, I play at 8:15! So, yeah. Remember that! If- if you want to. Hope to see you there! And if I don't, that's okay. I just hope you enjoy the piece if you hear it. Have a good night! Or-! Or day! Whenever you listen this- um, bye!"]
What? You had wrote a song for him? For his parents? For them?
Dick's heart swelled. He didn't even get to hear it either, he wasn't able to. He didn't have time, and he forgot, but that didn't make things better, did it?
You had gone through all of that effort, and not only made a song for him but even played it during a competition and got second place. Yet he couldn't even put a few minutes to the side to listen to it. He didn't.
Now Dick definitely felt awful.
However, he did notice that there was another voicemail left by you just a few minutes after the last one. So, he decided to play that too before his guilt and regret could fully settle in, as if it'd make him feel better somehow.
["8:45! IT'S 8:45! THAT'S WHEN I PLAY! NOT- Not 8:15, sorry! I mixed up the times- that's when a friend of mine plays, not me! Sorry! Uh, but yeah. I play at 8:45- stop by if you can! I hope to see you then! Buh-bye!"]
Okay, well, Dick officially felt worse now. So much worse.
You had all this character and personality, and yet he was never able to fully see it — to hear it like he has now. Not like this, not while he was paying attention.
Your voice was so much different than what he remembered, and despite your nerves you really tried to tell him because you hoped he'd be there. You tried to tell him in hopes he'd actually show up, and he never did. Even as he listened to your other voice messages, he could hear how his own actions, or lack thereof, were affecting you.
The messages grew shorter, more to the point, and while you did still sound enthusiastic — it's like he could hear the hope dying in your voice. The hope that'd he show up. That any effort would be made, but that didn't happen, and it didn't help that Dick was listening to some of the voicemails he was going through right now, for the first time.
He could only imagine the pain he caused you, and Bruce was thinking the same thing.
Bruce was still looking through your notebooks as Dick was regretting everything he had done to you in the past.
The notebook Bruce was reading now was one where you had written down majority of your more recent song ideas, along with things you wanted to try and melodies you were trying to mix together. It was mostly full of lyrics and small notes to yourself about certain things you wanted to keep in mind, and though there was a lot of things crossed out, Bruce couldn't help but be... charmed in a strange way.
How you talked to yourself was adorable, and seeing your excitement for your own performances and such through each word you wrote, just made Bruce feel so happy for you. He could almost picture your smile and how giddy you felt when you were writing some of these things down, or how focused you were when trying to figure out how to continue the chorus of a song you were making — or if there should even be lyrics to begin with. Along with how you wanted the song itself to sound, and what emotions you wanted to capture in it.
With each page turned it's like he could see the entire process you went through when it came to your song composition. Like he was almost there with you in the moment, watching you do your thing, and honestly? Just by that alone he couldn't help but grow... softer.
Bruce loved seeing how your mind worked when it came to music, and your thought process behind each and every little thing. He just... he felt like through each line and little note he read and looked over, he was falling in love. The kind of love that he couldn't quite describe, besides just the love only a father could feel when they really see their child for who they are for the first time. The kind of love Bruce hadn't felt in a long while, nor this intensely.
You were so creative and passionate, so driven to achieve your dream and do what you loved. You were just so... you, and there was just something about the way you expressed that in the notebook that felt charming. The deeper Bruce got into the notebook, the harder it was to not love you, and each time he saw one of your little notes, he could feel himself smiling. You were so precious, how could he not see that before?
Though, besides all of that, he did notice a small pattern.
Every performance you had, you mentioned in the notebook and would express your feelings about it, and every time you did — you'd write something beneath it. Just a small paragraph about certain hopes you had. Hopes that made Bruce's heart squeeze tighter.
It was you hoping that they'd get to see you perform, that they'd show up, and suddenly Bruce was reminded of why he was doing this in the first place. So, he started to flip through your book, shaking out of whatever trance he was in.
With each performance that passed, the little paragraph got shorter, smaller, simpler. Like a quiet prayer that was dying down, as the believer slowly lost their hope and faith. It even came to a point where only one sentence was written for a while.
"I hope I see one of them."
Bruce's heart broke a little more each and every time he saw it, but the page that really got to him was when the sentence was smudged, small wrinkles and creases were on the page, and you couldn’t even finish writing the sentence as the end of the 'e' in 'them' dragged out.
What didn't help was when he flipped a few more pages, and found the last performance you had written about. It was a few months ago, but the date didn't immediately catch Bruce's eye. No, no, no, what caught his attention at first was the change of that single sentence.
"I hope the audience enjoys it."
His heart shattered at that, smile fading as he took in a breath. A moment passed, with Bruce just stating at the writing. Wishing for the impossible, and to change things that had already been done. It was too late, but he somehow refused to believe that now.
Finally, he noticed the date and paused.
That... couldn't be right. You used to write in this notebook all the time from what he could tell, why did you stop? Did something happen that day?
If months really have passed... then that would explain all the dust on the box and contents within it, but still, it didn't make sense. Weren't you still here in the Manor? Bruce honestly couldn't think of why'd you would stop writing unless you somehow couldn't reach the notebook, but you couldn’t have left, right? Surely, above everything else, he would've notice that, right?
...
Bruce finally looked at Dick, seeing the oldest just staring at old flyers from various events and such you had participated in throughout your life. A life they never got to see.
"When was Y/n's last performance?" He asked bluntly, getting straight to the point.
Dick glanced at Bruce for a moment before looking back down at your desk. He moved some of the papers around before he found the most recent one and looked over to his father with a raised brow.
"About a week ago, why?"
Bruce looked back down at the notebook in his hand, eyes scanning over the date again before he closed it. Looking back at Dick, he asked another question.
"Have you seen Y/n around?"
Dick grew quiet at that, and after a moment he just sighed and shook his head.
"No, I can't say I have." It was only then did he catch what Bruce may have been thinking, "You don't think they-"
"It's a possibility. We can't be too sure just yet," Bruce just wanted to hold onto his hope that you were still here, and even if the chance was small he was willing to take it. He didn't want to believe that they had pushed you so far away that you would not only consider leaving, but actually went ahead and did it. He wanted to be doubtful, but he couldn't rule out anything. Not yet.
"Just keep looking, I'll go ask the others." Bruce stated as he placed the notebook back in the box and headed out the room.
"Keep looking? For what?! Other events we missed? More ways we ignored them? Things they did without us?!"
To say Dick's guilt was eating away at him would be an understatement. It was practically devouring him at this point, and he could just barely take it.
Bruce paused at the doorframe, sighing as he looked back at Dick, "Any hints or clues to where they could be. Favorite spots they might frequent, places where their lessons were held, people they know, anything." He left him with that, causing Dick to just run a stressed hand through his hair as he took a breath.
Worry and regret heavily weighed down on him, but all he could do was carry it for now. He'd make it up to you somehow. He would, and he'd finally get to hear that song one way or another.
As Dick started his search, so did Bruce.
Bruce did a general search around the house, looking for anyone he came across while also trying to look for you. He thought that if he was lucky, he'd run into you. Even if the possibility was small, it could still happen — or he hoped so anyway.
Just this once, Bruce really hoped for the best.
Though, he did end up running into someone, even if it wasn't who he was looking for.
"Woah, someone looks serious. What's got your bat panties in a twist?" Jason asked, amused, "Actually, wait, don't tell me. I don't c-"
"Have you seen Y/n?" Bruce cut Jason off, getting straight to the point.
The sudden question confused Jason as he gave Bruce a weird look, some of his amusment still remaining but it began to die down a bit.
"No... why?"
Bruce took a breath, fingers twitching, "Do you know where they could be?"
"How the hell am I supposed to know?" Jason's own confusion began to take over, his amusement continuing to die down, "Seriously, did something happen? Why are you suddenly looking for them?"
Bruce took a moment, just looking at Jason before he sighed.
"When was the last time you saw them?"
"... A few days ago..." Jason glanced off to the side.
"Jason."
"Okay, okay! Fine. I don't fucking know! A few weeks ago? Maybe?!" He answered, getting agitated already. "I'm barely here enough as it is, how am I supposed to know where they are!"
Again, Bruce took in another breath, but there was something about it that Jason didn't like. Maybe he inhaled too sharply or deeply — Jason wasn't sure, but all he knew was that he wasn't going to like what Bruce was about to say.
"Dick hasn't seen them either."
"And that's supposed to be a surprise, how? He lives all the way in Bludhaven, of course he isn't going to see Y/n. 'Cause they live here-"
"I haven't seen them."
"..." That was a little more surprising, but just a little more. It still couldn’t mean anything... right?
"With all the shit you do, I would be surprised if you even saw them on a semi-regular basis." Jason crossed his arms, still not convinced — not entirely anyway. Yet Bruce could only exhale softly, the action bothering Jason even more.
"It's just a possibility. I'm trying to find them. Think you can help out?" Bruce clarified before asking. Additional help would definitely be great, especially because it meant that they could find you faster. He could find you faster.
"What makes you think I'm gonna do that?"
"Did know that Y/n wrote a song that's a tributed to you?"
"... What."
Bruce sighed, "You don't have to do it because I asked you to, or even because I want to find them. You can do it for yourself, Jason. But I'll leave that decision to you." Then, he just walked off to continue his search for you, and the other occupants of the Manor. Leaving Jason by himself, alone...
"That bitch-" Jason cursed under his breath as he walked off, deciding that he'll help look. Though only so he could ask you if Bruce was bullshiting him or not, and not for any other reason...
... Wait, you wrote songs? Like, actually?
Jason just shook his head, already upset enough as he shoved the thought to the side. When he found you he could ask, and how hard could that be? The Manor was only so big, and besides, you were just one person. He could probably find you before Bruce if he just looked in the right places, but the only thing now was finding those places...
Okay, so maybe he saw the problem, but still. This couldn't be too hard. You were the only one in the whole family who wasn't a vigilante, and so it was only about a matter of time.
Nevertheless, Jason began looking around as well, trying to figure out where he should look as he mindlessly checked every other room he came across. Where would you even go anyway? He'd probably check your room first but he figured that Bruce had already checked there, and it wasn't like Jason knew where your room even was. Though he just chalked that up to how infrequent his incredibly short visits were.
Still, he didn't even know where to start, and would rather avoid searching the entire Manor if he could. He tried to scratch his brain for anything but he just... had no idea.
Well, okay, he had one idea, but that was only because of one night. Even then he's still not sure it was you who he saw on the-
["Master Y/n? Are you alright?"]
Jason's thought process was cut off by a sudden voice. He immediately recognized it as Alfred's, and a realization hit him. Right! He should look for Alfred first, he'd know where you are. Alfred practically knew everything about everyone in the Manor, so he'd lnow something for sure.
So, he followed the sound until he stood in the doorway of one of the lounges. The television was on and playing some kind of recording, but Jason paid no mind to it.
Confused, Jason called out, "Alfred?"
When he didn't receive a response, he huffed as his eyes drifted to the television. What was playing, anyway?
You — a smaller, younger version of you — stood in a door way, looking out in the hall before turning back to the camera. Big, innocent eyes looking up. Looking at Jason.
You couldn't have been no older than eight or nine.
[You gave a little nod with a small hum, "I'm okay, Alfred. Just... waiting, like you said."]
A small, soft huff could be heard from the other end of the camera, and the camera moved to be placed down a counter of some kind. Which revealed Alfred to be the one having been recording everything so far.
["Yes, well. How about we do a little something while we wait, hm?" Alfred asked, moving a stool closer to the counter — moving the camera again to be placed on the kitchen isle this time.]
Ingredients and tools used for baking could be seem on the counter. The stool Alfred had place was next to where he was standing, and a good distance away from the stove.
[You looked at Alfred curiously, "What are we going to do?"]
["Oh, nothing too much, Master Y/n. But... I do require a bit of assistance baking this cake, that is if you'd like to help, of course." Alfred patted the top of the stool as he spoke, "Though you can always just watch, if you'd like."]
[You perked up at what Alfred said, climbing up onto the stool enthusiastically with a smile. "I wanna help!" You exclaimed, looking over the ingredients before looking back at Alfred, "But... what cake are we making?"]
[Alfred hummed, pretending to think before be looked back down at you, "Well, what kind of cake would you like, Master Y/n? It is your birthday after all."]
["Really?" When Alfred nodded, you gasped excitedly before suggesting your favorite flavor at the time.]
["Well then, let's get started, shall we?"]
From there, the rest of the recording was of you and Alfred baking. With Alfred helping you when he had to, and laughing lightly when you would inevitably make a mess.
Laughs and jokes were exchanged, and it was probably the happiest Jason has ever seen you... which made him feel weird in a way. He didn't like it, not one bit, and yet he continued to watch the old, wholesome memory play out before him.
Jason watched as you got a bit of flour on your nose and how Alfred wiped it off. He watched as while Alfred was deciding on the shape of the cake, you gathered all the different colors and types of sprinkles you could find, and was looking at a particular color of food coloring. How you nearly fell trying to grab the food coloring, and how Alfred just narrowly managed to catch you. How after that, Alfred visibly recovered from the near heart attack he had gotten from watching you fall, and just watched you add the food coloring to the frosting after you had thanked him for catching you, and apologized for falling.
... It got Jason thinking, if only a little bit.
He didn't know much about you, not really anyway. Even if his visits were few and far inbetween, not to mention incredibly short, someone would think that he'd catch onto a few things about you, or just generally have more interactions with you, but he didn't. All he really knew was that you knew how to play the violin really well, but that was assuming that who he saw that night really was you. Even if he doesn't know who else it'd be.
Jason still remembered that one occurrence despite how long it's been since then... but that was for a different time. He had to focus now, but he still couldn't help but watch the little version of you trying to frost the cake without being too messy, but failing miserably.
It did get him thinking about how many small moments he had missed with you, and just... how little time he had actually spent around you.
Obviously, you weren't a little kid anymore. After all, the last time he remembered seeing you — you were already a teenager. Though was that really a good thing? Jason did remember having some kind of interaction with you in the past... but it wasn't much of anything, and even then he probably forgot half of those moments. What definitely didn't help is that you both didn't have each other's phone numbers, and the only form of communication you had was seeing each other in person.
.... Okay, maybe this whole 'finding you' thing was definitely a lot harder than Jason had originally thought.
["... Are they going to come, Alfred?" You asked, sitting in front of the cake you and Alfred had just made together, looking up at the camera that Alfred was holding once again.]
[Alfred didn't respond right away, but did eventually say, "I'm afraid not, Master Y/n, but if you'd like we could wait a little longer."]
[You shook your head, looking at the cake before looking back at the camera, "It's okay. We can blow out the candles now, but..." you hesitated, looking down at the table, "could you... stay with me? Please?" You looked away, embrassed for asking but didn't take back what you said.]
[Again, a soft huff came from the other end of the camera. "Of course, Master Y/n."]
After a short happy birthday song, the camera was placed down on the table as Alfred cut the cake. It was only after Alfred had given both you and himself a slice did the footage cut out.
Nothing could describe the face you made when Alfred said that no one was coming. Just like how Jason couldn't even begin to describe what it made him feel.
Even when a new recording started, he could hardly pay attention to it as all he saw was your face staring up at the camera. Expression not necessarily sad or upset, but it was easily the most heartbreaking thing Jason had ever seen. A kid shouldn't have a face like that. You shouldn't have a face like that.
Jason was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even notice Cassandra trying to get his attention, nor did he feel her even pull on his sleeve. All he could think of was you, sitting at that table all by yourself. Alone.
He just turned the other way, practically stomping down the hall as he looked straight ahead, glaring.
He had to find you. Now.
Cass, on the other hand, was just confused. Watching as Jason stormed off before looking back at the recording that was playing on the television. What about it had made Jason sp upset? She didn't know, but she was a bit curious.
Bruce had already confronted her and asked her where you were, and of course she didn't know either. He did mention something about how Damian was trying to help a little, which was a surprise in itself, and how Jason might be trying to search for you too, and had asked her if she could do the same. She agreed, of course, just wanting to help out, but having run into Jason just now? That was... odd. Especially when he suddenly stormed off like that, but that wasn't her main focus right now. She still had to-
["Are you still trying to record this, Alfred?"]
Wait... was that your voice?
Cassandra turned back to the television, only to see the camera pointed towards the floor.
["Of course, Master Y/n. Just give me one moment, I almost have the camera set up."]
Oh, Alfred was there too? What was going on?
[Light laughter was heard before you spoke again, "Here, let me help you."]
The camera began to move, and as it paned up, there you were. A soft smile on your face, shining colored hues looking at the camera as you made a few more adjustments before stepping away.
Now, you definitely looked like a teenager or young adult. Voice more matured and settled, almost calm in a way.
["There. That should be good, what do you think?" You asked Alfred, tilting your head to the side a bit, most likely looking at the butler.]
["I have to agree, Master Y/n. Everything should be working properly." Alfred then came into frame, moving towards the counter as you moved around the kitchen isle to follow him. "Now, what is it that you wanted to make this year?"]
["Oh! Right, well..." and you told him, already grabbing a few necessarily ingredients from around the kitchen.]
It wasn't long before the two of you started baking again, but this time around you were clearly more experienced than your younger self — not that Cass was aware of that anyway. You both did your own parts, working exceedingly well together as the conversation between the two of you was nothing but natural.
Cass never saw you talk so naturally, or even knew you could bake, but there were a lot of things she didn't know about you.
She could see that in the footage, you were really relaxed and happy. Almost at ease as you skillfully moved about, as if knowing the necessary steps to make what you were hoping to bake by heart, and how you navigated the kitchen made it look as if you almost knew it as well as Alfred did. It was almost refreshing to see you just be so... in tune with your surroundings, and Cass almost wished she had been there to see you bake for herself. Though she could settle watching footage of you bake for now.
Even if she didn't know why you were even baking in the first place until Alfred mentioned something about a gift for your Birthday, and how that led you to talking about some of the things your friends had given you.
This was... your birthday? Just you and Alfred?
That didn't feel right... but then again, she didn't even know when your birthday was to begin with — and now that she thinks about, had you ever celebrated Christmas with everyone? As a whole family?
... She wasn't sure.
["Are you certain that you don't want to wait, Master Y/n? You never know, someone could show up this time." Alfred asked, looking at you with slight concern.]
[You only smiled, "I'm sure. Besides, even if any of them did come, we both know that it'd be on accident." You laughed lightly to yourself, looking down at the pastry both you and Alfred had made together. "I doubt they even know when my birthday is, but that's okay." You looked back at Alfred, your smile still happy but... there was something off with it.]
["I've told you before, haven't I? You're all the company I need in this house. I'm happy just spending my birthdays like this with you." You took a piece of the pastry and ripped it off before holding it in the air, as if doing a toast, and held it toward Alfred. "So, happy birthday to me?"]
[Alfred sighed softly, but could only smile as he took his own piece of the pastry, copying your actions as he held the piece toward you, "Happy birthday, Master Y/n."]
The footage cut right after, and suddenly Cass found herself in a similar position that Jason had been in just a few moments ago. Just staring at the screen, unsure what to do with this new information, the weight on her chest growing.
Had you really spent every birthday like that? If so... then why didn't you tell anyone? Or had you tried, only for nothing to come of it?
The thought alone hurt, strangely enough, and all Cass wanted to do was... well. She wasn't sure.
She wanted to do so many things, and yet she didn't know if anything would work. Or if anything she could do would fix... well, anything at all.
She wanted to try your baking and... and celebrate a birthday with you. Or maybe she just felt obligated to do so after having seen the recording, but a big part of her did mean it. Especially because she didn't want you to feel alone or anything ever again, not after seeing the extent it went to. Though perhaps there was some irony in that thought that Cass failed to realize.
Regardless, Cass found herself walking off too. Completely missing the figure who turned off the television, and unplugged the camera from it that held all of the footage both her and Jason were shown.
Cass was practically speed walking as she checked the library — remembering have seen glimpses of you in there before — while Jason checked the music room, only for both to turn up equally empty. Yet they kept looking. Everyone did.
Dick tried calling and texting you while trying to see if there was anywhere you could be outside of the Manor. Tim ended up helping as he ran into Dick, and was basically locating and tracking down all the places you've been to with the help of your notebooks and awards in your room. All the while listening to some very earlier pieces you've wrote and played on the mp3 player he found in your box.
Bruce was still looking all over the Manor for you, each minute that passed making him more paranoid and worried. What started as a small possibility was growing into a certainty and he did not enjoy that at all. Damian had decided to search for Alfred, since it seemed like the smartest choice if they wanted to end this quickly. Yet when he did find Alfred and asked him where you were, it turned out that Alfred didn't know where you were either.
While yes, he did know some of the teachers and coaches you've had in the past, he didn't know where you were at this exact moment. How could that be? It was simple, really.
Alfred hadn't seen you in a while either, and once that little piece of information spread around the family... what followed after could only be described as chaos.
The Manor was practically flipped upside down as Bruce, Damian, Jason, and Cass searched for you. Not a single room went unchecked, and when they still came out empty handed, their own worries began to fuel each others.
Dick was the first one to suit up and head out, already calling Barbara as night fell on Gotham, with Tim beginning to suit up — yet Jason had beat him to the punch and was out the second the Manor was cleared. Cass was next to follow, with Bruce and Damian not following too far behind. Tim only left after informing Stephanie — and after downloading some of your songs — and telling Alfred to keep a look out just in case you came back home.
In just a few hours, what started as an unusually uneventful and calm, quiet day for the family, quickly turned into one of the most panicked induced searches and painful night of their lives.
All because of you.
---------
You were tuning your guitar calmly, tapping your foot to the melody playing in your head as you hummed. The silence surrounding you was peaceful for a chance, and didn't feel suffocating or as unnerving as the silence in the Manor did.
Honestly, it took a bit of getting used to but after a few weeks you had grown to love it. Waking up everyday and having someone there to not only greet you, but actually acknowledge you also took a bit of getting used to, but you managed much more easily with that.
Sure, there were other things as well, but you eased into it and had come to accept these small things as just parts of your new life. Yet, you still found yourself appreciating and noticing the smallest things, and almost crying over them too.
It had been a few months since you had left the Manor, and honestly you couldn't be happier.
You now shared an apartment with one of your closets friends, and your career helped you cover your half of the rent, as well as other expenses. You had truly found comfort with this new lifestyle, and even if you'd like to move out of Gotham one day — you could settle for this for now.
This, you believed, was what peace truly felt like.
Even when your phone started to go off like crazy — you just took one look at who it was and rolled your eyes, putting your phone on silent as you placed it face down on the table in front of you. You didn't know what Dick and Tim needed so badly, but you were sure they'd be able to figure it out themselves. After all, they were the sons of the world's greatest detective, right? They could handle themselves.
So you just leaned back into your couch, sighing softly as you mindlessly strummed away at your guitar, smiling a little to yourself when the tune was just right. Creating a melody came all too naturally to you, and all you did was carry it on — humming softly as countless ideas filled your head. A small song beginning to form, even if unintentionally.
A song that went on — with the suffering of Gotham going on in the background. The city being cleared out and searched by the vigilantes that dared to protect it, all of it being done just to look for one person. You.
The shouts and screams served as the base, with the shattering of glass and bones being the lower kick, perhaps. The heart beat serving as the tempo, and so on.
So, just as you had years ago, you played on. Calm and happy in your own little world, unaware of the horrors to come — and destruction being made in your name.
–––––
Well, that's long, isn't it?
Might be making a another post that kind of details what some of the others did before everything went to hell? We'll see. Maybe.
Sorry again for any mistakes, especially towards the halfway point/end there.
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floatyflowers · 1 month
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The second wife| Dark! Ozai x Wife! Reader x Platonic Dark! Zuko and Azula
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Ozai murdered your husband and your baby to take you as a second wife.
Of course, he has done it secretly so he doesn't appear like the villain in your eyes.
You were the handmaiden and younger sister of his first wife, and the one he wished to marry in the first place.
So, when Ursa runs away, he marries you against your will.
Even though the marriage was forced, right after your husband and child's death, yet you held no ill intention towards your nephew and niece.
Zuko is quick to accept you as you are his aunt whom he trusts.
While Azula didn't know how to act around you, thinking that you viewed her in the same way her mother did, a monster.
But you made sure to include her in everything along with Zuko.
The healthy relationship you had with Ursa is the same one you wish for Zuko and Azula to have, one full of love and respect.
But Azula always tried to push Zuko out of some activities, she claimed 'it is a girl's thing'
"Mother should only brush my hair because I'm a girl"
Meanwhile, Zuko clings to you, telling you everything he knows, or sought knowledge about it.
Meanwhile, you hate Ozai, he is just unlike...your first husband.
Ozai is beyond redemption in your eyes.
And many days, you avoid him.
However, one day, you and Ozai were fighting about political matters and Zuko intervened to defend you.
"Stop yelling at mother, she has done nothing wrong!"
You only placed your hands on Zuko's shoulders, fearing that Ozai might hurt him.
But the glaring competition between the son and the father only ended in Ozai leaving.
Unfortunately, Ozai did not let that slide when Zuko cut in one of the political meetings.
He challenged him to an agni kai.
Something that Azula was excited about.
You tried to plead for Zuko's case.
But that made Ozai more determined.
And on that day of Agni Kai, Zuko was left defeated with a scar as a reminder.
And then banished from the first nation for not wanting to fight his father.
But you kept sending him letters from behind your husband's back.
At first, Zuko swore to capture the avatar so he can be accepted back as an heir and into the arms of his aunt, you.
But after joining the team avatar, he swore to defeat his father and save you.
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blughxreader · 7 months
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night time routine with platonic yandere Damian and Tim <3
for more yan batfam, visit my masterlist!
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rie-092 · 1 month
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DEAREST ADVISOR.
❥. yandere! emperor x advisor! reader
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• liam luwelton was one of the most famous emperor on the history of lobelia empire. while he was praised for being a good and powerful ruler. he was also famous for being a womanizer who hook up with so many girls yet, he didn't even chosen any of them to be his empress.
• don't blame him, he likes having fun. but he hates when he got attached or tied to something that will hinder him. he was only doing this for his own entertainment after all. no one stayed on his side for so long anyways, well maybe except to the captain of his imperial knights, warren, his childhood friend.
• that was the main reason why he became surprised when warren's younger sister, you, became his advisor. the most amusing part was warren is the one who recommended you. hmm, it seemed like your brother doesn't even care about the fact that liam's mother, the previous empress, fired all the female servants after knowing her son's tendencies to, uhm... seduce them.
• that was the main reason why he was excited to finally meet you. the famous sister of his friend. he wanted to know how long will it take for you to became smitten and obsessed with him? ahh, just thinking about it makes liam so excited.
• but you were fucking different that he expected. who in the hell is in the right mind to greet the emperor for the first time while wearing a damn pyjamas? what the fuck? as far as he knew, you were the damn daughter of a duke. so, what in the hell was wrong with your fashion sense?
• well, keeping your fuvked up fashion aside. you were indeed good at your job. even though you can be pretty hard headed sometimes, you were able to carry yourself with so much confidence and boy, oh boy. he likes it so much.
• maybe, that time when he basically threaten you to wear an appropriate dress to attend a certain banquet with him. was the time when he realized that he fucked up. yeah, his motto that 'no string attached' crumbled down as he saw your annoyed face when the maids' dressed you up with the most elegant dress that he gifted for you. and the fact that you got drunk that night and mumbled some cute nonsense didn't helped either. fuck. the main reason why he got you drunk anyways is to fuck you. but damn, he can't bring himself to do it since you looked so cute while clinging to him for support!
• as a yandere, liam was overbearing and posessive. gosh, this guy is unhinged and practically crazy. he's an emperor for the petesake! he killed his siblings to ascend to the throne. so don't expect that he's a nice guy!
• those times that he escaped the palace just to go outside and hook up with girls? yup, he stopped doing that for you. expect that while working, his eyes were focused on your every move. you talk to other guy other than him and warren? expect that he will be fired the next day. and why is that? well, it's your fault.
• he was now fine with you working in your pyjamas, you're so cute wearing that after all! but, in exchange he will increase your workload 10x because he knew that you always goes home after finishing your work, he just wants to spend the whole day with you!
• don't even think of quiting, darling. because liam will not let you to do so. unfortunately, he was able to wrap his pretty fingers around you with you being unaware of it. ahh, he just loves how clueless you are when liam fired all the male servants on his palace and replaced it with the female ones to make sure they you won't be able to flirt with them while working.
• all in all, liam is head over heels for you. he wants you for himself to the point that he spread the rumour about you being the next empress of the prestigious lobelia empire. just to shackle you by his side.
• but of course, your usual playful older brother doesn't like it at all. so be ready, because just like a prince on the fantasy stories that the two of you read before. he will do anything to save you, his precious little sister even if it means he needs to burn down the whole empire and kill liam for you. i mean, when you were a kid, you mentioned that you wanted to be a ruler. so just sit back and let your big brother, warren do the work <3.
“ our love comes first, everything is secondary.”
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lovelybrooke · 1 day
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Can I request how Raphael realises he love Reader?
Yeah!!
Here's my post about the companions---Here's my post about Zevlor and Dammon.
masterlist
---
Raphael thought of you often, more often than he'd liked to admit. There was something compelling about you that kept him coming back for more. A part of him thought it was your situation, a pathetic little human getting wrapped up in all this mess. Or maybe it was those annoying little companions by your side. Truly, he doesn't know why you're so captivating, why you take up so much space in his mind, but it's starting to get annoying. 
He thought it was annoying how you kept refusing him, even when entering the city. He was ready to give you what you wanted, but you refused, and it made his blood boil. But what was even more annoying was even after all of this, after all your refusals, all your annoyed glances, and exasperated sighs, he still can't help but think of you constantly. He thinks of the first time he saw you, on the road in that forest. He thinks of your companions, how close they stand near you, the possessive looks they send your way, and the anger he feels as they fill your head with lie after lie about him. 
He's annoyed when Korrilla tells him of your adventures, because all he can imagine is the way your companions make you smile, the way you hide behind them in moments of danger, the way they fill your head with promises to find you a way home, promises they'd never deliver on. He could help you though, he could find you a way home. Maybe then you'd listen to him, you'd quit your refusals and recognize him as something more than just a Cambion. Maybe then your smiles would be for him. 
But send you home---that's not something he would possibly do, regardless of what you did for him. You're more interesting here, where he can keep an eye on you. 
Raphael thinks of you often. He thinks of when he first saw you, on that road in the forest. He thinks of when he took you to his House of Hope, the shock on your face. He thinks of when he offered to remove that ever-present tadpole from your mind, only for you to refuse, and how it surprised him. Oh you were so full of surprises, maybe that's what draws him to you--the thought of what you're going to do next. 
Raphael is patient, he'll wait until you realize how valuable he is, until you come crawling back to him. And If you don't, if you surprise him, well maybe he'd prefer that.
---
A/n: Much more short but that's cuz this was only for one character.
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darkbluekies · 2 months
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Make things right? Or make them worse?
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Yandere!doctor (platonic to his children) x twin daughters ocs x female!reader
Summary: Dr Kry’s children finds out their fathers dark secret, and he's determined to silence them.
Warnings: toxic household, yandere, favoritism, guilt, poison, mentions of murder (things along this way)
A/N: I have created my own poison for this story, so I choose the effects. Lol.
Word count: 6.2k
“Bye, dad”, Lydia says and closes the car door.
Her twin follows out of the car, almost hides behind her like a shadow. Lydia frowns confusedly. She’s been more silent than usual this morning. They turn to walk into school.
“Girls”, Dr Kry says through the open car window, catching their attention. “I want you here at three sharp, okay? I’m not in the mood for waiting.”
“Yes, sir”, Lydia answers. 
“Good. Have a good day, girls, I’ll see you later.”
With that said, he drives off. Lydia turns to Nadia who finally raises her gaze from her feet. 
“What’s wrong?” Lydia asks and fixes her backpack. “You’ve been acting off all morning.”
“I have to talk to you about something”, Nadia says hesitantly and looks at her with uneasy eyes. 
Lydia blinked and frowned. “What?”
“I was meaning to talk to you earlier, but I didn’t want to do it when dad was around.” Nadia glanced at the other students swarming around the school grounds. “It’s about mom … and her sickness.”
For as long as they can remember, their mother has been bound to her bed by a rare disease. Thankfully, their father is a remarkable doctor and has been caring for her ever since the twins' birth. He works at a hospital in the city and travels forty minutes back and forth every day, dropping the twins off at school on the way there, and picking them up on the wayback. When they were young, they were put in a private school carefully chosen by their father — who has been very active in the administration.
Their father is a complex person. Although they’ve been by him their entire life, they still feel like they don’t know him. He rarely talks about himself, and seem to have a human side for their mother only. Very rarely, there’s a soft side for the girls … often they’re met by a doctor, rather than a parent. Despite that, Lydia has always been a daddy’s girl, while Nadia has clung to their mom for love and comfort. 
“What about it?” Lydia asks carefully. 
“I heard something …”, Nadia starts and licks her lips nervously. “I heard these noises, from mom and dad’s room-”
“Don’t tell me you heard them have sex”, Lydia grimaces. 
“No …” Nadia shakes her head, eyes shaking. “They were talking. Mom was crying and daad was standing by the bed, holding her cheeks in his hands like this …” She cups her sisters cheeks in demonstration, “...while saying: ‘you’re never going back there, I’ll never share you like that again’.” She shivers. “I-I don’t know what that was, but it made me feel really weird.”
Lydia frowns, trying to picture the scene in front of her. 
“Are you sure that it wasn’t just dad’s weird love language?” she asks carefully. 
“I don’t know”, Nadia sighs defeatedly. “Mom seemed … scared. She looked up at him with eyes full of terror. She could have had a nightmare or something, but dad’s voice- … it was awful. I don’t know how to describe it, but it sounded extremely dark.”
“We could try to ask her.”
“What if dad hears?”
“I could distract him while you ask, if that helps you ease your worry.”
Nadia smiles gratefully. “Thank you, Lyd.”
Lydia gives her an unsure smile and grabs her hand and they walk into school. 
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Like Dr Kry had asked them to, they stand by the gates at three sharp. His white car rolls over and the two of them jumps in, Lydia in the front seat and Nadia in the backseat.
“How has your day been?” he asks and drives off. 
He always asks about their classes, teachers and friends. If there’s a small detail he doesn’t like, he makes sure to contact the school and let them know his thoughts. More than one friendship has ended thanks to his overprotectiveness and the twins has learned to dilute the truth enough for him to be able to swallow it. So once again, they answer in the way he wants to hear it. 
The car drives from the city, gets off the highway and enters a countryside road. The dirt road is divided in the middle with grass, creating enough space for the wheels of his white car to roll forward. Here, nothing can be heard except the sounds of distant birds. Their white, edwardian villa is surrounded by a deep, dark forest, close to a gigantic sparkly lake with the closest neighbor being a kilometer away. Despite the isolating upbringing the twins have had, getting away from the noisy, stressful city to the empty forest always cleanse their brains. 
The white, Scandinavian, edwardian aged, wooden villa appears behind the trees like a castle. The house has two floors with a green atticroof, and a bushy, blooming garden in the same color, two glass verandahs on either side of the house and a white fence around the garden.
The twins get out of the car. Nadia gives her a look and Lydia nods. 
“Dad”, she says. “I’ve been feeling a bit weird these last days … I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Really?” Dr Kry asks and frowns. He closes the trunk of the car. “Who have you been around? Are any of the other students sick?”
“A few.”
“Nadia, are you feeling bad too?”
“No”, Nadia replies.
“Could you please give me a check up?” Lydia asks. 
“Alright, come with me”, Dr Kry says and nods at her to follow him. 
While they walk inside, their father and Lydia walks to the living room and Nadia sneaks off upstairs. She moves carefully to their parents’ room and knock gently on the door before entering. Their mother, you, is lying in bed with a book in her hand. You look as weak as ever. Nadia shivers. 
“Hi, sweetheart”, you smile and puts down your book on your chest. “Did you have a good day in school?”
“Yes …”, Nadia mumbles and sits down on the side of the bed, unsure on how to start this absurd conversation. 
“What’s wrong, Nadia?”
“What happened yesterday? WIth you and dad?”
You flinch. Your smile disappears for a moment for it to appear quickly again, but this time in a fake manner. 
“Why did he say that?” Nadia asks carefully. “Why did he say that he wasn’t going to share you again?”
“O-Oh, that …”, you mumble with an embarrassed smile. “It was nothing, don’t worry about it. It was just some adult stuff that me and your dad were talking about.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, honey. Why? Did it make you worry?”
Nadia nods slightly. Y/N gives her a smile and takes her hand. 
“It’s okay, sweetheart, there’s nothing to be afraid of”, you reassure Nadia. “Whatever happens between me and your dad is nothing you have to be afraid of. We will always put you and your sister first, okay? There’s nothing you have to be worried about. I love you, darling.”
“I love you too, mom …”
You hug her, and Nadia hugs back, but she can’t help but feel that her heart sinks. Something isn’t right. 
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The very next day when they’re left off at school, Nadia grabs Lydia’s arm. 
“Let’s go to the hospital”, she says the second their father’s car disappears behind the corner. She holds up a metallic key. “I have the key to mom’s old room.”
“What?” Lydia asks in confusion. “Why?”
“I have a feeling that mom isn’t really sick and I have to take a look around in her old hospital room. Something isn’t right!” She clears her throat and lowers her voice. “Mom and dad met at the hospital and that he was her doctor, that much we know, right?”
Lydia nods, trying to follow along. 
“Isn’t it weird that a doctor as professional as our dad decided to start a relationship with a patient like that?” Nadia asks, sounding unsure. “And wouldn’t he have done everything he could to make mom feel better? Shouldn’t she be better now? I just … I want to know if he has done something.”
“Do you really think he has?”
“I don’t know. I really don’t know. But something isn’t right, and I feel that. Mom seemed to be put on the spot when I asked her about the interaction I had overheard. She seemed scared.” Nadia grabbed her hand in hers. “Please, Lyd, can we go there and just take a look?”
Lydia hesitates and glances at the private school behind them, contemplating the consequences. 
“Please”, Nadia repeats. “If mom is getting hurt, I want to help her.”
“Okay”, Lydia nods. 
With that said, they hurry past the school gates before a teacher has the time to catch them. They take the first bus to the state hospital their father works at and hope that he’s with a patient while they sneak around. 
They hurry inside the hospital and keep their heads down to make sure that none of the working receptionists would recognise them and report to their father right away. They stay silent until they get into the elevator. 
Once out, they sneak over to the door. Lydia stands guard as Nadia presses the key into its lock. The click from the key opening echoes in the empty corridor. Nadia’s hand hovers above the door handle. Her heart twirls around uncomfortably. In a moment, she will be in the room where their parents met, where something happened that made their dad take the decision of stepping over the professional line. If that was good or bad is yet to be known, but she can’t help but feel worried. 
The room is empty, in more than one way. The spirits of old memories haunt the room and they leave a sour taste in the twins’ mouths. Lydia looks towards the bed. Their mother has been lying here for months with a sickness that has kept her bed bound for years. But what happened while she was here?
“What are we looking for?” Lydia wonders. 
“Anything”, Nadia shrugs and looks around. “Whatever that can help us is fine. Journals, reports, notes — anything.”
They start to rummage through drawers, in binders and notepads. Lydia finds herself holding a yellow paper binder with their mother’s name written on it, in their father’s handwriting. 
“Nad, look at this”, Lydia says and holds up the binder. 
They put the binder on the desk and start to pull out papers. Every paper is written from the top to the bottom in ink.
“He has documented her every day …”, Lydia says, perplexed. She shakes her head in denial. “Every single day, every single hour. Obsessively. Look, every little detail is written down. ‘12:35, eaten an apple’, ‘16:52, took a shower’, ‘22:30, called for me on the telephone’. What is this?”
Nadia picks up another paper, a smaller, clearly supposed to be hidden between the other sides. She puts her hand over her mouth as her eyes widens. 
“Oh no”, she gasps and drops the paper. “No, no, no, no …”
Lydia frowns, bends down and picks up the paper. Her heart sinks as she reads the note. It’s a single word, but they’re familiar with it. They’ve found bottles of it in the cellar and the attic multiple times, and when they asked Dr Kry about it, he answered that it was a substance to kill vermin.
“He’s poisoning mom”, Nadia whispers in horror and looks at her twin with wide, terrified eyes. 
Lydia feels the air disappear from her lungs. Suddenly, she feels nauseous. She sits down on the rolling stool and tries to control her breathing. Nadia sinks down on the bed with her head in her hands. 
“What the fuck do we do?” Lydia breathes out with her eyes staring dimly in front of her. She has never felt this empty before, this helpless. “What the fuck do we do now, Nadia?”
“W-We have to call the cops”, Nadia gulps. 
“The cops? Nad, he’s our dad!”
“But if he hurts mom …” Her voice dies out. “We can’t let him take more years from her.”
Lydia nods and wipes the few tears that have begun to run down her cheeks. With shaking hands, she unzips her backpack and shoves the binder down. They will need evidence if they have to prove to the cops. 
The door behind them opens. Both girls fly up from their positions and scurry over to each other. Dr Kry walks in and stops abruptly in the door. 
“What are you doing here?” he asks quickly. 
He’s trying to force a smile, but the red eyes of his daughters and the trembling bodies of theirs are all he needs to see, to know that they know. 
“How fucking could you?!” Nadia screams. 
Dr Kry hurries to close the door as she continues to shout through sobs. 
“What’s your deal with mom?!” she screams. “How can you keep her like this?! Where’s your fucking conscience?!”
She thinks that she’s going to explode in pure fear, anger and sorrow. Dr Kry clenches his jaw and sighs heavily. 
“Your mother is a very, very special person”, he says slowly, as if he is talking to a ticking bomb. “It is all a misunderstanding, girls, I will tell you everything at home. Come, we’re going home now.”
“We’re not going anywhere with you”, Nadia spits and stands in front of her frozen sister. 
“You don’t have to be afraid of me.” Dr Kry rolls his eyes when they don’t answer. “You’re my daughters, and you are not yet of age, you have to come with me.”
Nadia wants to refuse again, but she doesn’t want to leave her mother alone with him, not when he knows that they know. 
“Now”, Dr Kry decides. 
Nadia picks up Lydia’s bag and gives it to her sister. It looks like Lydia is going to throw up any second now. Nadia takes her hand and they follow their father out of the room, and out through a back door. For the first time, Lydia sits down in the backseat together with her twin. They hold each others hands tightly and keep silent the entire car ride home. 
“Girls, I never wanted you to see that”, Dr Kry sighs and tries to meet their eyes in the rear view mirror. “I- … It’s hard to explain. Your mother is a very special person who I’m very lucky to have met.”
Lydia squeezes her eyes shut, but she can’t keep him out of her head. 
When they come home, Nadia drags her sister into the house. 
“Girls, don’t go upstairs”, Dr Kry says in that same dark voice Nadia had heard him talk in a few days ago. “I want you to stay down here.”
They halt, suddenly too scared to move. 
“I want you to help me with dinner”, Dr Kry says. “Come on.”
The twins glance at each other. Lydia starts to drag her sister to the kitchen. They help in complete silence. Lydia’s hands are trembling while she cuts cucumber and it slips, cutting a slit in her finger. She yelps and drops the knife. 
“Oh, honey”, Dr Kry breathes out and grabs her hand. “You have to be careful.”
She doesn’t look at him as he washes her hand under the kitchen sink and puts on a bandaid. Her entire body is in fight or flight mode. 
When Dr Kry takes care of the final touches, the twins scurry up to their mother. Your face drops when you see them. 
“Why is he doing this to you?” Nadia asks thickly as she tries not to cry. “We found out.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry, girls”, you say sorrowfully. “I wish that you never had to know.”
“Why do you let it happen?” Lydia asks quietly. 
“I have no choice … I can’t do anything.” You lower your gaze and voice to an ashamed whisper. “I don’t have the energy to run away, and if I managed to, you’d be in danger and I’d be dead. Your father has the only antidote to his self made poison. It’s safer for everyone if I stay here.”
“But mom …”, Nadia whimpers, “... he’s hurting you.”
“I … I know, dear.” 
The door opens behind them. 
“Girls, dinner”, Dr Kry says shortly and nods towards the corridor. “Go downstairs.”
The twins turn to you, wanting you to make their decision. You give them a reassuring smile and they leave. You look at the man who has become your husband, much to your dismay. 
“Why did you let them find out?” you whisper with tears in your eyes. “You promised that they would never know!”
“I didn't think that they would.” He wipes the tears that roll down your cheeks. “I’ll fix this mess. Don’t worry, darling.”
With that said, he tucks you in and leaves to go downstairs. The twins have sat down by the dining table with their blank, staring eyes turned down into the table. Dr Kry sits down and start to eat, without seeming to care at all about the incidents that happened earlier. Nadia stares down into her plate with disgust roaring in her stomach. If she eats, she’s going to throw it all up in a matter of thirty minutes. She closes her eyes and sighs sadly. Lydia tries to eat a bite, forcing it down her throat. 
“Nadia, eat a little”, Dr Kry says. 
“I’m not hungry”, she mumbles. 
“You need to eat a bit. I won’t allow you to leave the table before you have eaten. Look at Lydia, she’s eating.”
Lydia feels her cheeks heat up as the attention turns to her. She’s suddenly embarrassed over obeying. Feeling exposed and naked under Nadia’s look of disbelief, as if she’s just broken a silent pact. But instead of saying anything, Nadia picks up her fork and takes a bite of the white rice. The twins can agree that this might have been the worst dinner they have ever experienced. 
Nadia puts her hand over her heart and clears her throat. There's a heavy feeling over her chest, something almost suffocating. She looks to the side, seeing how Lydia is frowning as well, trying to clear her throat. Nadia think that she looks like she’s going to faint. She wants to ask her how she’s feeling, but doesn’t dare talk in front of their father, afraid to start a conversation. 
After dinner, the twins decide to go upstairs, but their legs suddenly feel weak enough to break apart. 
“What’s going on?” Lydia whispers and grips the staircase railing. 
“I think that he put something in the food”, Nadia whispers back. 
“I feel really sick …”
She falls down on her knees in the middle of the staircase, still holding onto the railing. Nadia hurries to pull her up again and drags her over to her bedroom, lazily tucking her in. 
“Don’t leave me”, Lydia whimpers and grabs her hand before she can leave the room. “Stay … please. Don’t go. I'm scared.”
Nadia agrees, not wanting to leave. She climbs down under the covers of Lydia’s bed. They lay in silence and look up at the tilted, wooden ceiling. For every minute passes by, they’re growing more and more sick. Every muscle in their bodies seem to ache, twist and turn. 
“He’s doing it to us too”, Nadia whispers. 
They hear the lock on the door click and give each other terrified looks. Nadia stumbles out of the bed and feel the handle. She gulps in horror and turns back to the bed. 
“It’s locked!” she says and breathes out in shock. “He actually locked it …”
“Come back …”, Lydia begs and reaches for her. 
Nadia returns to the bed, crawls down under the covers and hugs her. She wraps her arms around her sister and rests Lydia’s head on her shoulder. 
“I’m scared”, Lydia whispers. 
“It’s going to be okay”, Nadia replies, although she doesn’t believe it herself. “We’re going to be okay.”
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Dr Kry removes his tie, about to go to sleep. 
“I can’t believe you …”, you whisper from the bed, with her eyes down at her trembling hands. 
“Darling …”, Dr Kry sighs and turns around. 
You raise your tone, but keep it hushed enough not to exceed the bedroom walls. “You promised that they would never get hurt! You promised that they would never get exposed to this fucking substance!”
“They haven’t … yet.”
“Yet?! Don’t fucking tell me-”
“They figured it out, okay? They heard our conversation and decided to check out the hospital for themselves. I underestimated their intelligence … and their love for you.” He sighs annoyedly. “I’m not going to let their lack of understanding break apart our family — that I have fought so hard for. I put something in their food to keep them still for a while. It’s nothing dangerous, little one. I promise you that.”
“If I knew that you were going to break your promise-”
“I had to.”
He is about to caress your cheek, but hears sounds coming from next door. One of the girls is banging on the locked bedroom door, and calling for him. Dr Kry excuses himself and gets out of the room. He walks over to Lydia’s room, where the noise is coming from. Quickly, he unlocks, finding Nadia leaning on the wall right next to the door. Her eyes are full with tears. 
“What’s going on?” Dr Kry asks. 
“Lydia isn’t waking up!” Nadia cries.
Dr Kry feels his body turn cold. He runs over to the bed where his other daughter is lying on her side, and he soon finds out that Nadia is right — she isn’t waking up. He shakes her, gives her gentle taps on her cheeks and lifts her up. Nothing wakes her. He has to take her to the hospital. 
“Wait, where are you going?!” Nadia screams after him as Dr Kry carries her sister down the stairs. “She doesn’t want to be alone!”
“You have to stay here with mom”, Dr Kry says over his shoulder. “I’m taking care of Lydia.”
He hurries out of the house and quickly places her down in the back seat. Dr Kry’s usual forty minute drive to the hospital took only twenty five minutes this time. He picked her up in her arms and ran inside through the backdoor, and didn’t stop until their reach the room you have spent many, many months in. Dr Kry places his daughter down on the very same bed you have laid in. He placed an oxygen over Lydia’s mouth and nose, turning on the machine. He hasn’t felt this scared in a long time. 
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Finally, after an hour, Lydia opens her eyes with a small moan. Dr Kry hurries over to the bed and removes the mask. 
“How are you feeling?” he asks her and brushes the hair out of her face. 
“I feel really sick”, she whimpers. 
“Do you need to throw up?” 
Lydia nods. Dr Kry picks her up again and moves her into the bathroom where she hovers over the toilet for ten minutes. Dr Kry holds her hair back and grimaces sadly. He does feel bad for putting her through this, but he has to. 
“There you go”, he says and puts her down on the bed again. 
“Why am I here?” Lydia asks weakly.
“You weren’t responding when anyone tried to wake you up. I got worried, so I decided to take you here.”
“Am I going to die?”
Dr Kry scoffs out a smile in a weird sensation of deja-vu. He has heard that question a lot, in the exact same tone and manner, but from the generation before her.  
“You’re not”, he reassures her and strokes her hair. “You know that I would never let anything happen to you.”
“Why am I feeling like this?”
“I put something in your food to make you and Nadia calm down, but you seem to have reacted badly to the substance … weirdly enough. Since you’re identical twins, i thought you’d react the same, but it seems like you are a bit more sensitive than your sister.”
“Nadia ate less than me.”
“Yeah, you might have gotten more substance in your body, which is why you feel worse. It’s going to be okay, I will not let anything happen to you.”
“But you hurt me.”
His smile drops and his hand stops stroking her hair. He knows that Lydia shares half of her mothers genetics, but he didn’t know that she would sound exactly like you. She has never heard you use these phrases, and yet Lydia has chosen the exact same wording that you have tortured Dr Kry with years ago. 
“I didn’t mean for you to end up here”, Dr Kry sighs and continues to stroke her hair. “That was my fault, I admit that. However, I had to keep you and Nadia a bit sedated because of how scared you were.”
“Why did you use so much?” she whimpers. 
“I was a bit shaky myself, I wasn’t meant to hurt you, Lydia.”
Lydia sighs shakily and sinks down in the mattress. She wants nothing more than to go back home, to Nadia, but at the same time she knows that if she goes back home, she will be locked in her room again. Continuing with life now that they know their father’s secret will be difficult. 
“How long do I have to stay here?” she asks quietly. 
“Until you’re feeling better”, Dr Kry replies and stands up. “For now, I think that you need to sleep. It’s late.”
That’s the last thing she wants to do. She has always been Dr Kry’s (not so subtle) favorite, and she has always had a preference for her father … but for the very first time, she’s afraid of him. She can’t trust him anymore, especially about her health. Being unconscious is the last thing she wants to do. 
“I don’t want to”, Lydia says pleadingly. “I’m not tired … please don’t make me sleep, dad.”
Please don’t make me sleep. Your voice echoes in his head, in the exact same tone. Dr Kry knows that he did a million things wrong when he kept you here, and now he has a second chance to fix things. 
“Okay”, he breathes out and sits down on his stool. “You don’t have to sleep, darling.”
Lydia gulps and looks around in the room, trying to imagine how you had felt while being here. She feels a heavy sensation over her chest, like a heavy stone. She couldn’t see the poisoned air purifier that was mentioned in the journal. 
“Did mom lay here?” Lydia whispers. 
“Yes”, he answers quietly. 
“How long?”
Dr Kry looks down at his nails, eyes faltering. “A, uh … very long time. Many, many months.”
She starts to look around again. “Where is the air purifier?”
“It’s not here … it broke, a long time ago. I had to throw it away.”
“Do you still use that kind of thing on mom?”
“No, I don’t. Not often.”
But he has his new way to make sure you stay.
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Nadia runs her hand through her hair. Her poor sister. What should she do? Dr Kry left the rooms unlocked, which means that she can move around. She drags herself into your bedroom. You look at her with wide, nervous eyes. 
“Is she okay?” you ask and take Nadia in your arms. 
“I-I don’t know”, Nadia responds shakily while shaking her head desperately. “She wasn’t waking up and …”
“She’s going to be okay. I know your father can all of those medical stuff … maybe a little too well.” You sigh and caress the seventeen-year old girl’s face. “It’s going to be okay.”
Nadia shakes her head. “No fucking way things are going to be okay! He’s a madman, mom.”
“I … I know.”
“We can’t stay here.”
“Where are we supposed to go, Nad? We have no car, nearest neighbor is a kilometer away and we have poison in our blood. Sweetheart, we can’t walk far.”
“Mom, we have to leave. We can’t stay here with this psychopath!”
“Nadia …”
Nadia sighs frustratedly and hides her face in her hands. Something has to work. The farthest she has seen you walk is out to the garden when they’ve had picnic evenings. You take her hand, removing it.
“Sweetheart … you know dad loves you, right?” you ask carefully. You don’t want her to hate her him, after all he is her father … but you have to let her know the truth, no more living in the shadow.
“Fucking doubt it”, Nadia mutters. 
“He does. In his … own little way. But I need you to understand that he has sides that he hasn’t shown you … a-and I don’t want you to see those sides.”
Nadia’s face goes blank. You’re trying your best not to get swindled back into old memories, but thinking about that murderous side of Dr Kry brings you back to a time you much rather would want to forget. 
“Mom?” Nadia asks blankly and almost shouts in panic. “Mom! What sides?”
“He … He is a very patient man, but he can't take as much as possible, so please, whatever you do … cooperate.”
“What does that mean? Mom?”
Nadia goes cold. That’s it, she thinks, they have to leave. 
“Mom, get up”, she says and grabs the blanket before ripping it off. “Now. Before he returns.”
“Nad-”
“We have to try, at least. Please.”
You hesitate before getting out of bed. Nadia grabs your hand and try to pull you out of the bedroom, but everything around you seem to spin. Your entire body is heavy and aching in all the wrong places. 
“Nadia, wait”, you groan. “If I’m going to move, I have to move slowly.”
“Alright”, Nadia agrees. “I’ll go get some stuff and then meet you by the stairs.”
Nadia runs to her room to collect her wallet and hoodies for herself and her sister, then runs to get your jacket. She meets you by the stairs, helps you put your jacker on and then start to lead you down. You’re terrified of falling. 
“Nadia, I don’t think that this is a good idea”, you mumble and think back of your numerous escape attempts, all ending with someone losing their life. 
“We have to, mom”, Nadia pleads. “I can’t leave you here.”
“What about Lydia?”
“I’ll figure something out afterwards.”
Nadia unlocks the front door and leads you out on the glass verandah. You’re filled with fear. What if you can’t walk? What if you hurt yourself? What if Dr Kry finds out? Your body won’t be able to take his anger. Besides, you have barely left the house in eighteen years — apart from a few car rides here and there — what if the world has changed to something you don’t like?
“Mom”, Nadia says slowly. “It’s going to be okay.”
“I’m terrified”, you admit. 
“We will be okay.”
They start to walk along the dark countryside road. There are no streetlight this far out in the forest, but the moon lights up enough for them to see where the road is heading. 
“It’s been years since I was outside last”, you say. “I think the last time I was out walking was in the garden, last summer when we had that picnic.”
“Have you ever tried to run away from dad before?” Nadia asks. 
“I have”, you answer quietly. “A few times.”
“Did you ever succeed?”
“That depends on what you mean by ‘succeeding’, because I’m still here, aren’t I? But I got away a few times … the only problem was that he found me again.” You sigh, realizing that perhaps you shouldn’t have this conversation with your underage daughter. “Forget that. Where are we going?”
“We need to go to our neighbors. They have to help us.”
Nadia has only spoken to the neighbors a few times, because of how rarely they run into each other. 
They only manage to walk a hundred meters before bright, beaming headlights light up in front of them. Nadia wants to flee into the forest — in case it happens to be her father behind the wheel — but can’t seem to pull you with her. The car stops and to Nadia’s horror, her father gets out. 
“What the Hell are you doing?!” he shouts, sounding both angry and terrified. “Y/N!”
You freeze in your spot and seem to crawl together like a hurt dog, sounding like one too. Dr Kry runs over to you. Nadia watches in horror and starts to panic, wondering what she should do. Stay here with you and get caught in Dr Kry’s claws … or make a run for it to try to get help. 
“I’m sorry”, you shriek in fear. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry-”
Dr Kry hugs your shaking body in his arms and strokes your back, hushing softly.
“I know you didn’t come up with this stupid idea”, he reassures you. “Don’t cry, my dear, I'm here now. I know this wasn't your fault. I'm not mad at you. I’ll get you back home and I'll take care of you. It’s going to be okay.”
He helps you into the front seat. You don’t fight back in the slightest. Nadia looks back at the dark forest and gulps. Her eyes glues onto something in the backseat and realizes that he has come back with her sister! 
“Nadia, get in, we've had enough of these childish outbursts”, her father tells her. “Get in. Now.”
“Is she okay?” Nadia almost stutters and points at her sleeping sister. 
“She’s okay. If you don’t get in now, Nadia, I’m taking them both with me and you’ll never see them again.”
His favoritism has never been clearer, Nadia thinks. She can’t leave her sister … so she gets into the backseat. Nadia wakes her sister up and caresses her cheek. 
“Are you okay?” she whispers quickly. “Did he hurt you?”
“I feel okay”, Lydia whispers back. “Just … tired. I had tro throw up a lot and I think that he gave me some sleeping pills or something. I insisted on going home … so he let me.”
Nadia breathes out. She glances over at the front seat. Their father holds the steering wheel with one hand and yours with the other. 
“Please don’t cry”, he wishes. 
Nadia watches on in disgust. 
When they get back to the white villah, Nadia pulls her sister up to her own room and lays her down on the bed while Dr Kry takes you into the master bedroom. 
“Here you go”, Nadia says and tucks her in. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?”
“Some water”, Lydia says quietly. 
Nadia disappears downstairs to get a glass of water. She meets her father in the stairs. 
“Nadia, I’m not sure your sister will be able to leave her bed for a while”, he says warningly. “I wouldn’t try to leave, if i were you. If you do, I will take both of them with me, and you’ll never see them again.”
“Do you like to hurt your family?” she spits back. “What kind of sadist are you?”
“One to make sure my family stays with me. If you don’t want to end up in the same physical state as your sister and mother, you’re going to continue living as if everything is normal, got that? Go to school, come home, study, continue everything. No talking to anyone about this. Is that clear?”
“So everything as normal … but without Lydia?”
“Exactly.”
“Why aren’t you healing her?”
“Because I’m not going to let you, or anyone, take my family from me. Be glad that I’m still letting you live normally.”
Nadia glares at him and continues up the stairs. She holds the glass to Lydia’s mouth, watching her sip. 
“What now?” she whispers. 
“I’m allowed to continue living like normally … and you don’t”, Nadia says quietly. “I’m sorry.”
“But … but I don’t want to live like mom!”
“I know. I’m sorry, Lyd.”
The girl in the bed sighs sadly. Naida takes her hand and gulps. 
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The coming weeks seem normal. Nadia goes to school, studies, returns to the villah, but nothing is the same. Without Lydia, there’s no use in being on top. She has no one to impress anymore. Her father is dead to her, and sucking up to him makes her sick. She barely talks to her friends anymore. They’re always asking her about Lydia, and why she’s not in school anymore. Nadia can’t come up with countless excuses … it’s easier to distance herself. 
Life doesn’t seem that bright and colorful anymore. Nadia can’t bring herself to be excited about things that used to interest her badly. Now, every day is a chore, something she wants to get done, until something happens … but she doesn’t know what it is. A death in the family? Someone saving them? Someone killing someone? 
Nadia walks out of school, seeing her fathers white car parked outside the gates, and him inside … waiting for her. 
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