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rooksamoris · 2 days

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💞 — 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐒.

💞 — in which jamil realizes that no matter how hard he avoid the oasis, the thirst will not disappear till it is quenched.

💞 — jamil viper x reader

💞 — warnings: hurt/comfort type fic. some descriptions of gore to emphasize yearning (the arabs be dramatic, what can i say)

💞 — 1.7k words. inspired by "sawwah" the song by abdel halim hafez. you should listen to it while reading tbh. first in a series of me assigning old school arabic songs to various characters. and yes, arabic speaking jamil is back. the translations are italicized with the arabic, and i changed some lyrics to fit third person, instead of first.

Wa ana mashi fil bilad, sawwah.

And I walk through countries, a vagabond.

Jamil had a job. He was bound to eternal servitude to the Al-Asim family—practically property to Bait (house/clan) Al-Asim. He had a job, and yet he spent his nights away in his mind, wandering like a vagabond. Purposeless, jobless.

All those nights toiling in the kitchen of Scarabia made him forget purpose and work were different things. He would never call working for that spoiled boy his purpose. He was made for more—to be praised, to rule and command. He deserved more. Jamil deserved more than having to push away his moon, his qamar (moon).

You were like an oasis in the desert expanse that he called his mind, and yet he walked away from you. He walked away when he desperately needed a sip. When he desperately needed rest and dates from your palm.

“Qad jinint? (Have you become crazed?) I have too many things to deal with. And you’d be better off without the burden of my title. Imshi (Go on/walk off).”

Jamil saw it. He saw the way your expression faltered, the softest twitch in your brow, the smallest tremble of your lips. It was cruel, he knew it, and it hurt him to say it. But in the end, he knew there was nothing else he could say. There must have been a better way to delicately reject your confessions, and yet he took the harshest route. Jamil plucked the dates from your palm and trampled over them.

He hurt himself by doing so, denying himself the one thing he desperately wanted. In the end, it was simple. Mishwar baeed, wa hu gareeh. His life was a long journey that only injured him. He did not want it to injure you as well.

Still, his charcoal eyes would seek you out. He would still ask Kalim about you, wanting to know how the distance was affecting you. Did you become a vagabond as he did? Were you avoiding oases?

Did you ask about the brown-skinned boy who broke your heart? He just wanted to be reassured—tamainu (reassure him)—that his qamar was doing alright. Wa in la’akum habibi, salamuli alai, he wanted to tell Kalim. If you see my love, wish them peace from me.

He would never ask you himself, nor did he get the chance to since you would scurry off whenever he passed by. The one place he could not avoid you was the kitchen of Scarabia, his domain, during one of Kalim’s parties. You were hiding away from the madness, and he had been trying to hide away from you. It was the same spot in which you cooked with him, listened to him, and were eventually rejected by him.

Jamil froze after walking in, and you turned your head up from your phone once you saw him, “I’m sorry,” you said, pushing yourself off of the counter and heading for the other door. You could not face him, not after that rejection. Not after he told you that your feelings were that of a crazed djinni (genie/jinn).

He shook his head and walked to the stove top, turning it on, “Stay. I’ll make chai,” he muttered. He did not even look at you.

You still wanted to leave, but instead, you just nodded. Honestly, you were a fool for the man, for that long dark brown hair which he braided so perfectly, and his aquiline nose which you desperately wanted to trace your finger along, “I don’t want to trouble you—”

“It’s no trouble. It gives me an excuse to get away from Kalim.”

You swallowed and nodded.

The silence was horrifically uncomfortable. The only sounds in the kitchen were the boiling water in the kettle and the sound that the mortar and pestle made while Jamil began to grind the herbs for the tea. Chai, cloves, cardamom—he added cinnamon this time. The scent always made everything more cozy.

Ya qamar, ya nasini. Oh moon who forgets me. Jamil hoped you would have gotten over your feelings for him and forgotten about the rejection, but he could tell it stung. The way you looked around the kitchen proved that enough. He poured the evaporated milk into the tea, let it simmer with the racing of his heart, and then poured both of you cups. He was gentle as he set your cup in front of you, unlike the savagery that he handled your heart with.

Jamil leaned against the island, his eyes trailing over your face, “Are you—”

“I’m fine,” you blurted, holding the cup of tea. Waseitak, waseiya, ya shahid aleiya, “I promised you—you heard. You saw,” you elaborated, “I’m fine.” Tekilu ala beiyak. You could have told him of the state you were in after the rejection, but you opted for lies veiled by a fake grin.

He understood. He did not let you see past his veil either, “I see.”

“The tea is great.”

“Thanks.”

There it was, another uncomfortable silence. His eyes said it all, though. Had you looked close enough, you would have seen how they ached to sacrifice themselves for you. He wished his worries for you would leave him alone—he would have gouged his eyes out just to make the aching in his heart disappear. It was curling in on itself, threatening to burst with the violence of a desert storm, sand filled his lungs, suffocating him. The weeks felt like years, and he was just a nomad in the night.

“I didn’t mean what I said,” he set his cup down.

You immediately frowned and put your teacup down as well, scared you would drop in, “You don’t get to say that now,” you mumbled.

Jamil nodded in agreement. It was cruel, rejecting you so harshly just to turn around and claim he did not mean any of it. Especially when he still did find you crazy for loving him as ardently as you claimed, “It’s wrong. I know,” he said, looking away from you and to the door where all the commotion was. The music was muffled by the shut doors, making the kitchen feel like an entirely different building, “But I… I feel the same.”

That was another lie. He did not just feel the same, Jamil longed for you. He yearned, his heart ached and his veins begged to be torn out for your sake. Every cell in his body called for your name, his hands begged to grasp your waist, kiss your neck—his hands which artfully painted henna, wished they could trace every curve and every dip on your body.

“Jamil…” you trailed off.

He merely shook his head, “It is because I feel the same that I must reject you. You—you have so much more waiting in your life without me. My suffering should not be yours,” he said, and he said it as if it were the law of the universe. He was a vagabond eternally bound to avoid the oases because the oases were not meant for him. They were meant for Kalim Al-Asim.

Despite all that, he did not push you away when you cupped his face. He did not protest as he drowned. He did not thrash, he did not fight. His body did as it wished, leaning into your hands, “Ya qamar… you are making this more difficult than it needs to be,” he muttered, the disdain dying before it could embrace the quiet air of the kitchen.

You frowned at him—sevens, he wanted to kiss that mouth of yours—and your brows furrowed, “Let me, Jamil. Just let me,” you said. What did you want him to let you do? You had no clue, or perhaps it was just too broad to describe.

Nawarli, wararili, seitak al-habayeb.

Enlighten and show me the path to the beloveds.

He was so weak when it came to you. Before he knew it, his hands were at the small of your back, pulling you closer and forcing you to arch against him as his lips met yours in a fierce kiss. He sighed into your mouth, his tongue slipping in when you gasped in surprise.

Jamil needed you even closer. His hands made their way down to your hips, his thumbs slipping under the hem of your shirt to feel your skin. It was just as nice as he dreamed it would be. What made it all the better was how you kissed him back.

One of your hands gripped his shirt, right at his chest, right above his cruel racing heart, and the other held the back of his head. The quietest of whimpers escaped you as he bit your bottom lip, causing him to groan.

He pressed you against the counter, causing your hand to slip from his chest and move to hold onto the surface behind you. You kissed him till you could not breathe, “Ja—Jamil,” you stammered when your lips parted from his.

Greedily, he went in and kissed you some more. Jamil had taken a sip, and now he wanted it all. He only pulled away when your hands pressed against his chest to push him away. His eyes widened and his hands fell back to his sides. He pulled the hood down to hide his face from you as he turned his head, “Sorry,” he muttered.

“It’s—It’s fine,” you replied, fixing your clothes and hair, “Are we…” you let the question hang like a date on a palm tree.

He nodded, “If you’ll still have me,” he replied. What he wanted to do was get on his knees and beg you to use your lips to end his suffering—beg that you use those hands to pull the sand out of his chest.

“Of course, I’d still have you, Jamil,”

Your words were like a soothing balm. It was the salve that you spread over his burns, over his scars, and over the bruises that his yearning created, “Okay,” he said, and it was all he could manage to say for now.

He picked up the kettle of tea and poured you some more. No matter what he did, he could not run away from you, his purpose. You forced the vagabond to stop and pulled the title right off of him, before pushing him into the waters of the oasis.

“We have some ma’amoul (semolina biscuit stuffed with date filling),” he says, after some silence.

#💖 — amoris writes #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #jamil viper #jamil viper x reader #twst jamil #twisted wonderland x reader #twst jamil x reader #jamil nation is so back #making him speak arabic for y'all again

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unluckilyimnot · 2 days

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Could you write about confessing your feelings and asking out nagi and gagamaru (separately) only for them to be like “i thought we were already dating??” Thank you!

i thought we were already dating ? nagi, gagamaru

m.list II rules

note : hiii ! sorry i take a while, i was really busy <3 here it is ! it hope you like it

Nagi

Nagi and you were about to go home when you thought it was the best timing. He asked if you wanted to come with him to the arcade after school, so you obviously tagged along - never missing an opportunity to spend time with him. You love it too much, spending time with him even if you're not doing much.

But as you walked out of the arcade, a strange feeling took upon your heart and it was like you'll never be able to feel it again. You needed to take a step further. Or at least try.

You never felt more nervous. Your heart was racing inside your rib cage as you stopped in your tracks. Nagi turned around to look at you, puzzled as to why you would stop when you were whining a while ago about how tired you were.

Playing with your nails a little for you to build up your confidence, pushing away so scary voices in your mind telling that it will ruin everything. You finally look up to him, a small blush all over your cheeks.

"I really like spending time with you, much more than just friends ! Would you go with me ?!" You yelled without realizing it, closing your eyes as shame came along with your speech.

When you open them again, you're met with a rather lost Nagi. His head tilted to the side.

"Aren't we dating already ?" He asked, not even thinking twice when your blush worsened in an instant.

You were too shocked to answer, but if you weren't you would've hit his arm so hard. Yet thinking about it, it just makes sense for him to say that.

Taking a few steps toward him, you still hit his arm before taking it. "You know that we have to talk about it Together before it's settled?"

He hummed in response. Not adding anything but it was enough. You're already used to it.

Gagamaru

Your steps resonated in unison with Gagamaru's as you walked further into the lovely park you just found near your place. You never really had the time to take a walk to clear your head or just enjoy the good weather, but since you got closer to Gagamaru, you happened to spend a lot of time outside. It doesn't matter if it’s just walking in silence or happily talking about your interests. It can be in a zoo, around the town, deep into the countryside where he used to live. You just like it a lot, even more since he’s there.

It was always good to hear him talk about things he likes or how much of a nature lover he is. You’re always lull by his voice, calming your sometimes busy mind.

You lost track of how many times your hand brushed, how your heart skipped a beat every time or how you have to look away when he looks at you for a little too long and your cheeks get hot. You don’t remember the first time you started to long for it, a new “date” with him, but you for sure have a lot of feelings for him now. It was just so hard to talk to him with how oblivious he is.

Yet your hand brushed his once again and this time, the warm feeling didn’t stop as he took your hand in his, stroking your skin with his thumb from time to time. It was too much for your heart and mind. You pulled kindly on his hand, your eyes shyly looking into his. You didn’t let go but there was a step between you too, you could tell he didn’t understand what was up.

“I like you.” You didn’t need to think much. Those worlds flow down your mouth naturally, and you should’ve told it earlier. “Would you go out with me ?”

You felt relieved to finally say it, feeling your heart lighter and expecting a smile. Instead you were met with a frown. “I thought we were already dating !”

You blinked once, then twice before scoffing to yourself.

“When did you ask me out ?” you teased, taking a step closer. “I can’t remember well it seems.”

He felt flustered, you could tell by his avoidant look. Getting a little closer and getting up on your toes, you pecked his cheek. “So ? Will you ?”

No need to say that he was even happier after you asked him, in the end.

i hope you liked it

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock fluff #blue lock hc #bllk fluff #nagi x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi hc #gagamaru x reader #gagamaru gin x reader #gagamaru gin #nagi #nagi seishiro #blue lock #bllk

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samgirl98 · 2 days

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Orion Called Cepheus 2/2

They had come in the Batmobile.

Jazz was tense as Batman drove toward Gotham; Robin sat by him in the passenger seat. He would turn his head frequently to look at Danny. Jazz squeezed Danny’s hand hard. She couldn’t believe Danny would go behind her back and call someone else who knew nothing about his current situation.

She couldn’t believe her baby brother would want to leave her for his biological family. Jazz glared at her younger brother from time to time.

He looked away guiltily each time.

Danny was doing this for her. Jazz deserved to have a normal life. To go to university. She shouldn’t have to be on the run with him. She didn’t need him messing up her life.

The trip to Gotham was silent.

Jazz didn’t even raise her eyebrow when a secret passage was opened randomly at a back alley. Damned rich people. She held on to Danny’s small hand as they exited the Batmobile. She ignored Batman and Robin and looked around the cave. People were sitting by a huge computer.

Everyone stared at Jazz and Danny as they got out of the car. Jazz got in front of her brother to shield him from their eyes.

A man in a black suit with a blue bird turning into blue stripes on his arms got up. She may not know all the Gotham vigilantes, but she recognized Nightwing. He had an easy smile, probably trying to make her feel more at ease.

It didn’t work.

“Hi, I’m Nightwing. Nice to meet you and Danny.”

Jazz didn't shake Nightwing's hand. After a few seconds, Nightwing’s hand fell to his side, and his smile became a little strained.

“Right, well, welcome to the Batcave.”

Nightwing’s welcome echoed throughout the cave.

Jazz ignored the people in the cave and took her brother’s hand.

“So, now what,” she asked.

There was no way in the Infinite Realms she would let some fruit loops take her younger brother away from her. She had failed him once and wouldn’t do it again.

She felt a tug and looked down at Danny.

“Jazz, can I talk with Damian? I’ll be right back.”

“No,” she wanted to scream, “you’re staying with me!”

“I’ll be right here if you need anything.”

I’ll be here if anyone tries anything.

The silence got louder somehow the fainter Danny and Damian’s footsteps got.

“You’re not taking my little brother from me,” was the first thing she said. “You’re all strangers. I won’t let you take him away from me. He’s all I have!”

Jazz clenched her fists, ready to fight if she had to. She would take Danny out of the cave, kicking and screaming.

Batman put a gloved hand on her shoulder.

“We would never pull you two apart,” he said. His mask was off, and Jazz could see the sincerity in his eyes.

She couldn’t help it. She broke down crying.

Damian stared into the distance as his younger (now truly younger) twin brother told his story.

Damian tightened his hold on his sword’s hilt. He wanted to hunt down the Fenton’s and strike them down. For the first time in a long time, he wished he didn’t follow his father’s rules.

“Why didn’t you call me sooner, akhi? You knew I was Robin. We could’ve been reunited long ago; we could’ve been heroes together.”

“I didn’t want to bother you or father. And—and I was being selfish. I loved being in an environment where I didn’t have to fight to the death, where I didn’t have to kill. I’m sorry for messaging you now, but I need help…”

Damian hugged Danny, “Don’t apologize for calling me. I’m glad you did.”

“I want to be safe,” Danny sobbed, his little fists clenched, “I want Jazz to be safe.”

“I failed you the first time; I won’t fail you again, Cepheus.”

When the twins got back, Danny noticed Jazz’s red-rimmed eyes.

“Jazz, what’s wrong?”

“I won’t lose you, little brother. I refuse.”

“Jazz, you’ll always be my big sister,” Danny said, “but you deserve to live your life. Go to university, get your PhD. You shouldn’t put your life on hold for me.”

“You’re my little brother, and I will always put you above everything else.”

“That may be true, but you shouldn’t have to. Besides, with my father’s help I should be able to return to my real age. I hope.”

Damian cleared his throat.

“I am grateful for what you have done for Danyal. I will not seek to take over your role, but thank you. Father, my siblings, and I can care for Danyal from everything that would harm him. You don’t have to do it alone anymore.”

Jazz sniffed and took hold of Danny’s hands.

“Besides,” Bruce started, “there’s more than enough space here. You can stay for as long as you want. I can protect you and Danny from your parents. You don’t have to run anymore.”

Danny squeezed Jazz’s hand.

“I’m sorry for calling them without saying anything first, but Jazz, you deserve to live your life, too.”

Jazz looked at Danny’s young face and then at Bruce’s sincere expression.

“Thank you, I would like that,” she said while hugging Danny. Nothing would separate her from her brother.

#orion called cepheus #dc x dp #dp x dc

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bellasprettywords · 2 days

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Hey, I love your writing! I was wondering if you’d do a little something based off of the lyrics “Well, every once in awhile, she'll find my number in her phone and we'll talk for hours She'll tell me things I would have never known about when we were together She's saying, "Sorry, it's just such a long walk home" So she's coming over cause it's better than being alone” Spencer Reid x female reader. I was thinking more like a Midwest emo alt type of character, totally not someone you’d expect Spencer to go for?

I think your nose is bleeding (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Thank you very very much for the request!! I hope you like this little one shot, because I didn't know the song, but I hope I could meet your expectations🩷✨

My masterlist

Requests are always open🥰

Warnings: Mmm apart of it being a little messy, I think there's nothing, but it fluff

Word count: 1,232

y/n – your name

Spencer and you were kind of an odd couple, excuse me, a couple of friends for the untrained eye. While he’s a trained scholar with a collection of PhDs on Mathematics, Chemistry, and Engineering; with an impressive job as a profiler at the FBI, which most of the time had him travelling all around the country, and a shy personality with socially awkward tints, and a genius brain. You are a tattoo artist with a free spirit, a soft spot for poetry, love for sassy comebacks, and a special love for midwest emo music. Once upon a time, almost a year ago, Spencer and you were a couple, but the two of you decided to leave things as friends, because your lifestyles were quite different, which made a relationship considerably difficult for you. However, the two of you decided to stay friends, which seemed kind of easier as you established a set of rules to make sure everything between the two of you could flow naturally.

Even if it was as friends, you knew that the two of you seemed like polar opposites, but the love you shared always made you be better for each other, growing up, learning about the other’s point of view, and becoming empathetic, even if you didn’t see eye to eye under certain circumstances. After your break-up, Spencer and you learned to compromise and commit to make sure the friendship could work, sure, sometimes it was hard considering his packed schedule, and your love for spontaneous adventures.

It was a little later than you would usually close the tattoo studio, so you decided to call Spencer to see what he was up to; you hadn’t talked in a while, so you weren’t even sure if he was in the city, but it was worth it to take the shot.

“Hey, y/n, it’s nice to hear from you” you heard Spencer’s voice through the phone

“How are you, mighty Doctor Reid?” you asked excited because, deep down, you were really longing to hear Spencer’s voice

“I’m… I’m alright, you know, just doing my thing; how are you? It’s been ages” he said trying to hide his own excitement to hear from you. Sure, you were friends, but deep down Spencer hoped that with time and more organization, maybe someday the two of you could rekindle your previous relationship

“It’s only been a couple of weeks, but I know what you mean! I’ve missed you Spence, I hope I’m not interrupting you at work or anything” you said, walking to your car

“No, I’m just home solving a puzzle, and deciding what to order for dinner” he said

“Uh, that’s nice, I was actually thinking about going to Little India to get take out. I’m really craving chicken curry, want anything?” you said jokingly, pretty sure Spencer wouldn’t catch the subtext

“Uh… sure, some chicken tikka masala and flatbread would be pretty amazing, thank you for asking” Spencer said, ensuring you he didn’t catch the joke

“An order or chicken tikka masala, white rice, and flatbread, coming right up” you said getting ready to hang up the call, when Spencer interrupted

“Wait, don’t hang up” he said as you turned on your car engine “I want to go with you, if that’s okay, I mean, if it’s not an imposition” he stuttered this time

“It would be delightful, sure, I love talking to you” you said with a shy smile forming on your lips, “What have you been up to? Any cool cases I can know about?” you asked Spencer

“I flew in today from Atlanta, we went to solve a case there” Spencer stared telling you all about the case, the unsub and how the team managed to save the victims that were abducted, when a car cut you off and honcked at you

“Jerk” you said under your breath

“y/n! are you okay? what was that?” Spencer asked frantically

“I’m okay, I’m okay, it was just some jerk” you said hoping to soothe Spencer’s concern “Did you know I hate driving?” you asked the young doctor

“I didn’t know that” he said sounding quite surprised at your revelation

“I really do! That’s why I’d always ask you if we could carpool when we were together” you confessed

“Hu… That would’ve been useful information back then” he said, making sure of making a mental note about that, to ensure to drive you whenever he could do it

The two of you kept talking, and the 40-minute drive that you needed to get to your favorite Indian restaurant, suddenly felt like a 5-minute stroll with the one you loved. Talking to Spencer like this felt amazing, it was peaceful, it almost felt natural like breathing, he always had the right words for you and even when you paused the conversation for a little while, the silence between the two of you was incredibly comfortable. You arrived at your destination and while you were ordering the food, Spencer stayed on the line with you, speaking about an impressive number of folkloric Indian stories, and facts about the country. You picked up the food and drove to Spencer’s apartment, this time, the drive was quite short, but that didn’t mean it was least pleasant with Spence’s rambling

When you arrived to the apartment building, Spencer was already downstairs waiting for you

“Hey boy-genious, I was at least hoping I could separate the orders before giving them to you” you said, a little butt hurt that apparently, Spencer didn’t even want you on his apartment

“What are you talking about? I’m here to help you carry the bags upstairs” he said a little confused by your comment

“Oh, I thought… Never mind” you said brushing off the butterflies that starter fluttering inside your stomach

“I’m really glad you called, you had no idea how much I missed you” Spencer said as you were entering the apartment building

“I missed you too Spence” you said

The night went amazingly, and the damn butterflies wouldn’t go anywhere. The two of you eat dinner together, and it almost felt as you have never broken up, the conversation flowed, and you could feel how this was one of those moments you’d always treasure in your heart

“I should get going, it’s a really long drive home” you said as soon as the clock struck 12:00 am

“Don’t go, please, just… stay the night” Spencer pleaded with his puppy eyes

“I really shouldn’t” you replied, avoiding eye contact with Spencer. Sure, one would argue that a friend can stay over at another friend’s apartment, but you knew that with Spencer it would be complicated, especially as you weren’t over him yet

“I’m begging you, I may seem alright, but as soon as I go to bed without you I feel so… empty and alone. This apartment is not the same without you, as a matter of fact, my life is not the same without you” Spencer said taking your chin so you could look at him in the eye

“If I stay the night, I may never leave” you said, gifting Spencer a side smile

“Maybe I just don’t want you to leave” Spencer said, leaning forward and starring intensively into your eyes, so you did what any normal person who has the object of his or her desire would’ve done: you leaned forward, and kissed Spencer

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turtletaubwrites · 13 hours

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Numbers Game ~ Part 14

Pairings: Cross Guild x Fem!Reader

Numbers Game Masterlist

Word Count: 5371

Ao3 Link

Summary: Party plans are coming along, and your hard work is rewarded, but it seems like secrets keep on growing.

Author's Note: I am so jealous of our numbers girl 😭

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Swearing, Smut, Fluff, Manipulation, Humiliation, Pet Names, Power Imbalance, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Threats, Size Difference, Daddy Kink, Overstimulation, Degradation, Unprotected Sex (stay safe out there), Bondage, PIV Sex, Large Cock, Masturbation, Cunnilingus, Multiple Orgasms, Comeshot, Dom Mihawk, Dom Crocodile, Switch(?) Buggy, Death Threats, VERY Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Shameless Shameless Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

So many hands and lips on your skin, yet all you could feel were the weight of those words.

“You would… ”

“I’ll cut them down for you,” Mihawk whispered, rubbing his face along your neck and ear until your back arched for him. “We’re the only ones that get to make my little rabbit cry. What are their names?”

Crocodile let out a low hum as he settled closer to you, kissing across your shoulder while Buggy smoothed his hands over your legs.

“I don’t…” you choked out, closing your eyes against the dizziness that spun through you.

“Come here, sweetheart,” Crocodile soothed as he pulled you against him. “Let’s get some sleep. You can write up your kill list in the morning.”

A dream. This is all some crazy dream.

A soft whimper left you as the hot tears staining your cheeks were caught just in time, and you knew it was Buggy’s fingers wiping them away. You sputtered, breathing too fast as you tried to gulp down air, to swallow the overwhelm. Mihawk touched your cheek before letting Buggy join his hands, sliding his body between yours.

“Hey, pretty star,” he soothed, stroking your hair while you clung to him. “I’ve got you.”

“How’s my girl?”

Dreams of stormy seas pulled away as that deep voice warmed the back of your neck.

“Good,” you hummed, Crocodile’s body pressing in behind you. Opening your eyes, you saw Buggy still asleep, having rolled away from you onto his back. Mihawk’s amber eyes shined at you, and your lips parted to see him curled around the clown, resting his head against the other man’s chest while he stared at you.

“Good. It’s been ages since I had a decent hunting trip. None of your enemies happen to be swordsmen, do they?”

Buggy tensed awake, his body frozen like he was playing dead, while you just gaped at Mihawk. Their offer came rushing back into your stormy mind, and you had no idea what to do with it.

I can’t.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

All the bodies on the mattress went still.

“You trust us, don’t you,” Crocodile rasped, his voice somehow toeing a line between soothing and threatening. “You can tell us what you want.”

“I told you what I want,” you mumbled, breath catching in fear yet again. Buggy’s hand found your arm, and his warning grip on you was the only movement on the massive bed.

What am I doing?

“Why don’t we get some breakfast,” Mihawk offered lightly. “I prefer discussing murder after my espresso anyway.”

There was such a strange tension while you prepared for the day, while Mihawk carried you to the balcony, while they all stared at you over their plates. Chewing the inside of your lip as you tried to eat, you felt their gaze like a weight over your shoulders.

You realized why the tension felt so strange. It felt like the air in a room after a couple’s spat.

I’m not afraid they’ll hurt me. I’m afraid they’re mad.

“I’m sorry,” you spilled out, eyes wide as you looked between them all. “I trust you, I’m just not ready to talk about my past right now. Especially if you want me to focus on the party. I don’t want to be distracted.”

You’d expected Buggy to react the best to your apology, but he kept a hint of worry, maybe even hurt in his eyes as he smiled.

“Alright, sweetheart,” Crocodile nodded, lifting your chin toward him. “But I like secrets just about as much as I like lies. We can wait until after the party, but my patience won’t last forever.”

Mihawk chuckled softly as ice slid down to your gut, and it was only his prodding that got you to eat a decent amount of your meal before you were carried to your desk, your notebook and transponder snail pushed toward you.

I hate this. I fucking hate this.

Falling into work mode, you schmoozed with your contacts as if you’d never left your old life. That itchy feeling crawled up your spine during every moment of silence, your loud, guilty thoughts only dulled by your work.

It was a long day.

You gratefully accepted a glass of velvety wine as you sat on the couch, Buggy across from you on that green chair. He had a pad of paper on his knee, twirling a pencil in his fingers with a silly amount of flair. He looked so fucking cute like this, his brow creased in thought while he looked up at the ceiling, quirking his lips before jotting down notes. Crocodile and Mihawk had very reluctantly put him in charge of the entertainment, and he was taking it quite seriously.

“We have a full list of attendees, and most will be arriving with a plus one. Here’s the details for the three backers I confirmed today, they’re donations will more than pay for the event,” you reported, pride pushing away some of that tension. “They will expect VIP treatment, of course, but that–”

“Amazing work, sweetheart,” Crocodile praised as he lit a cigar, puffing it a few times while you smiled up at him.

“You really are a treasure, aren’t you,” Mihawk purred, flipping through your notes. “I’m curious though, what does this, “U,” mean?”

He set your list of contacts in your lap, flipping through a few pages to point out the clients you’d marked with that letter.

“All of your other descriptors are highly detailed, and not a single contact with that letter was invited to the party. Surely we should expand our list of potential backers as much as possible.”

“Let me see,” Crocodile huffed, grabbing your notes to toss on the coffee table. He leaned over them, flipping through the pages before pushing them aside. You let out a yelp of surprise when he grabbed you, but didn’t resist when he sat you on the table to face them both.

“You just told us the invite list was full, yet you didn’t call any of these people with the letter, “U,” next to their names. Explain.”

His scarred face was like a force of nature, like looking into a sandstorm that you knew would swallow you whole.

“It means un-unreliable,” you gasped, feeling the heat of their scrutiny against your skin. Your next words were hurried, but steadier. “I can call them if you want me to, and I would have if we hadn’t confirmed so many guests. But they talk too much, and they run in circles that could cause issues for the guild. A lot of them have connections to the Marines. I should have explained, I’m sorry.”

It’s not a lie. It’s not a lie. It’s not a lie.

“Why are you so afraid, little rabbit?” That whispered taunt made you shiver as Mihawk took your wine glass, before lifting one of your hands to his lips. “Did you just remember who we are? Only a few days of spoiling you, and you already forgot that you answer to us now, not some failed party clown.”

Crocodile leaned toward you, his hand on your thigh while he studied your face.

“That idiot didn’t listen to your work, but I expect full reports from now on. You’ll tell us everything you’re doing and why you’re doing it, you got that?”

“Yes, sir,” you nodded, gratitude flooding you.

“Good girl,” Mihawk teased, pulling you back onto the couch. “I would hate to punish you over a misunderstanding. That’s all it was, right?”

“Yeah,” you chirped, catching Buggy’s wide eyes. He looked away quickly, staring at his notes, but his cute thinking process was gone, the pencil not meeting the paper again.

Thank gods for wine.

A few bottles amongst the group left the awkwardness behind, until nothing but their skin on yours remained. No need to hide on that bed, no need to be anything but theirs.

That thought tugged you out for just a moment, but you smiled as you gave yourself to these three bad men, yet again.

I chose to be theirs.

The tension of that day faded, replaced by that comforting, delicious danger you were always in. They carried you from room to room for the next few days until a shipment arrived. Trunks were carted into the suite after dinner, and Buggy’s floating hands started to open them while you sat nude on the bed.

“Get your grubby hands off her clothes,” Crocodile ordered lazily, pointing to the trunk on the right. “Bring that one here.”

It was hard to keep your eyes open while Mihawk kissed the back of your neck, long fingers leaving circles on your thighs, until Crocodile leaned down to kiss your cheek.

“Open this one.”

His deep voice was so soft, and you hummed as you reached for the clasp, lifting the heavy lid.

What the fuck?

“Well,” he asked, tapping the contents with his hook. “Do you like them, or should I send for something else?”

“N-no, I love them,” you squealed, grabbing a book from the pile, and running your fingers over the dragon on the cover. You flipped the pages, that lovely scent making you shiver. “Fantasy books…”

You laughed to yourself as you remembered that dinner on the balcony when he’d asked you what you like. Crawling onto his lap, you kissed up his neck while he let out a low chuckle.

“Thank you, daddy.”

“Mm, anything for my sweet girl.”

“Yes, bring it to the door,” Mihawk ordered into the transponder snail, pulling your attention for a moment, which the scarred man pulled back when he fisted his hand into your hair, sucking marks onto your neck.

The movements and voices in the room didn’t distract you this time, until a very particular sound rang through the air.

A meow.

“Really,” Crocodile asked dryly when you left his arms, searching for that sound.

Mihawk stood by the door, a smug smile tugging at his lips before he met your eyes.

“Would you like to hold him, darling?”

“Why…”

“You like cats, don’t you?”

Your brain paused, the cognitive dissonance these men kept putting you through making it hard to think.

But another meow from the little brown tabby in Mihawk’s arms shook you loose, and soon you were sitting on the plush carpet, laughing while Buggy floated a gloved hand around like a toy for the cat to chase.

“Look at all of our pets on the floor,” Mihawk laughed, setting a hand on Crocodile’s shoulder, removing it at the larger man’s narrowed eyes. “Come now, you’re not a fan of animals?”

“I prefer scales to fur,” he grumbled, meeting your smile with a sigh. “And I was hoping not to have to share Y/N’s attention with anymore men.”

You giggled, the furry man in question already bumping his head along your legs, and climbing onto your lap.

“Does he have a name,” you asked, grinning as your new cat tried to crawl up to your shoulders, rubbing his face along your chin.

“Not that I’m aware of. He was a stray.”

The image of Mihawk hunting the island for stray cats was too much, so you put it out of your mind while you searched for a name.

“Adam.”

All three men repeated you, each with a hilariously different tone.

“That’s the least flashiest name ever,” Buggy pouted, scratching behind Adam’s ears.

“Surprisingly, I agree,” Mihawk chided, tilting his head like a hawk about to fly down to steal the poor cat from your hands. “Why–”

“Why Adam?”

Crocodile’s interruption made everyone but Adam go silent, too much weight in the simple question. Heat rushed to your face, and you blinked up into his serious eyes.

“It’s from a story my dad used to tell me,” you confessed, closing your eyes as you smiled at the memory of his voice. “About a magic tree that survived endless wars. People kept coming back after the island was destroyed, and they’d rebuild around that invincible tree, the—”

“The Jewel Tree Adam,” Buggy asked, his blue eyes shining as he scooted closer. “It’s not just a story. I sailed on a boat made from a Jewel Tree.”

“Shut up,” you laughed, stealing a kiss from those red lips before anyone could stop you.

“That wood’s been sold on the black market. It’s rare, but it’s real,” Crocodile asserted. Once again, your mind stopped functioning, Adam bringing you back again, this time with his paw reaching toward your face.

“So it is a flashy name,” you teased, sticking your tongue out at Buggy.

“Barely,” he rolled his eyes as Mihawk sighed in defeat.

You helped Buggy arrange Adam’s things in the suite, until Mihawk pulled the cat away from you.

“Don’t worry, darling. I had my old suite set up for our furry friend. He’ll be across the hall in his own little castle while we rip you apart. I’m sure you wouldn’t want the poor thing to see what we’re about to do to you.”

“You set up…”

“I’ll show you the cat paradise tomorrow,” he huffed a laugh, petting Adam as he lounged comfortably in his arms. “Now be a good little rabbit for me, and I’ll try to convince Sir Crocodile to let the cat sleep in here when we’re done.”

“Not happening,” Crocodile drawled, hanging up his robe before sitting on the edge of the bed, patting his knee. “Why don't you finish thanking me, since we were so rudely interrupted earlier?”

His satisfied smile made your skin flush as you moved toward him, and you saw his cock twitching beneath his boxers, growing as he watched your bare skin. It made your mouth fall open with need, and with caution that you didn’t think would ever go away.

“Mm, is my sweet girl still scared of her daddy,” he taunted, palming himself through the thin fabric.

“But what about...” you started, turning around as Mihawk returned to the room. “I didn't try on any of the clothes.”

“It’s too late for that now,” Mihawk laughed, walking toward you until you backed up against Crocodile, those large thighs surrounding you. “It looks like your daddy wants to check how well you fit something else, isn’t that right?”

“I know she’ll fit just fine. Huh, babydoll,” he pulled you to him, moaning softly at your desperate noises, and your instinctive writhing when your ass rubbed against his hard length. “Did you like daddy’s present?”

“Mhm.”

“Not as much as she li–”

“Why don’t you go sleep in your little cat paradise,” Crocodile cut Mihawk off, his shifting attention keeping you from relaxing into him.

“I’ve got another pussy in mind for tonight,” the swordsman quipped, and you gasped as a floating hand grabbed yours, tugging you out of reach.

Buggy wrapped himself around you from behind, so you were caught in his warmth as you both looked at the frightening men in front of you.

“When you fight, she wants me.”

Buggy’s words made you feel too many things at once. They felt sweet, and sad, and territorial, and you didn’t know how to react.

“Is that true, little rabbit,” Mihawk asked, danger growing in his voice. “Do you want the clown?”

Oh, that sounds like a punishment waiting to happen.

But I can’t lie.

“I do.”

Buggy’s soft noise made you melt against him, until you pressed against that heavy need of his, both of you reacting to the touch.

“Do you see this, Crocodile,” Mihawk gestured toward you with a wicked smirk. “It seems she didn’t like either of our gifts. Would you rather have what this clown can give you?”

You’d started to shake just a bit, not knowing which direction you should turn. Mihawk’s words always seemed to twist you where he wanted you anyway.

Crocodile took pity on you, clearing up the question.

“Sweetheart, would it make you happy to fuck that stupid clown?”

Buggy let out another squeak, but he pulled away from you slightly, so you wouldn’t feel how much he needed you.

“It would make me happy.”

As if he couldn’t help it, Buggy pressed against you again, making you gasp as he rubbed his clothed cock along the meat of your ass, pretty little noises leaving his throat.

Mihawk charged toward you, and you couldn’t help but noticed the hard weight of his cock through his silk pajama pants. He gave an evil little smirk as he looked down at you, grabbing your cheeks to tilt your face.

“Such a spoiled little rabbit. We give you so many things, so many gifts, but that’s not enough, is it? My precious little slut needs another toy. Needs another cock, even when she’s all stuffed up. What do you think, Crocodile? Does she deserve another gift tonight?”

“Maybe my sweet girl hasn’t realized she’s grown out of her old toys.”

Mihawk’s laugh was sharp, too pleased, and your breath caught when he kissed you, and then Buggy on the cheek.

“Good point, sandman. Alright, little treasure, we showered you with gifts tonight, and now you get to play with your old favorite toy. Let’s see if it’s still as much fun to play with after we’ve been spoiling you so much.”

You were frozen when Mihawk gestured toward the bed, but Buggy picked you up, floating you to the center of the mattress before crawling up your body, caging you in.

“This okay, star,” he whispered, barely audible. It woke you up, and you nodded with a smile before he kissed you.

“Just a moment, pets,” Mihawk called, bringing your eyes to him. He and Crocodile pulled the couch all the way up to the bed, staring with hungry eyes that made you shiver. “We want to see if your old toy is still worth playing with. Croc, what do you think her minimum is with us?”

“Four. Minimum,” he said, voice rough as he pulled his boxers off, his massive dick like a looming threat.

“That sounds about right,” Mihawk agreed as he followed suit, stripping before lounging on the couch, his thick cock drawing your eyes as it twitched slightly. “Let’s see if this toy can pull four orgasms out of our little whore, since she wants to keep it so badly.”

“What if he can’t,” Crocodile asked, his voice full of more dangerous humor than he usually had with Mihawk’s games.

“There are so many pretty holes on that bed,” Mihawk threatened, his eyes raking over your skin, and Buggy’s as the clown stripped. “If she’s wrong about him after going against our wishes, I think we should break her, and her stupid toy.”

“You hear that, sweet girl,” Crocodile rasped, fingers moving lightly down his shaft, then pressing upward until you noticed that lovely bead of precum start to spill down the side. “Daddy keeps telling you to get over that pathetic clown, but you don’t fucking listen. This is your one chance to prove he’s worth it. If he can’t fuck you properly, then I’m gonna ruin you. Daddy’s cock is gonna tear you into pretty little pieces. You got that?”

“Yes, daddy,” you whined, back arching while Mihawk laughed at you.

“Should we roll dice to see which hole gets destroyed first,” he smirked, seeming absolutely giddy watching you writhe. His hungry eyes flicked to Buggy as the clown crawled back to you, holding himself above your body. “I suppose it’s show time isn’t it. Go on, clown. Make my little rabbit scream, unless you want to be a useless toy for the rest of your life.”

The insults still made you cringe, but Buggy smiled at you, that gorgeous, blue hair falling down around you like a curtain.

“Will you be my flashy girl,” he rasped, eyes flicking from your lips to your eyes. “Will you put on a real good show for me?”

“Yes, captain,” you breathed, moaning as he swallowed your smile with a needy kiss.

“She’ll get that paint all over her,” Crocodile grumbled, but that was the last you heard from them as Buggy left trails of kisses and soft bites down your body, leaving your skin tingling while you laughed.

A gloved hand teased around your face, fingers pressing between your lips until you bit the fabric. He kissed your knees, grinning as you pulled his glove off with your teeth, like you had so many times before. He mirrored you with his other hand, tossing them off the side of the bed like a strip tease.

Your breath caught when he positioned himself between your legs, so very close to where you needed him.

“Want me to do that thing you like,” he asked, the heat and confidence in his words making your head tilt back before you could answer.

“Please, Bugs, I need you… ”

“Of course you do,” he agreed, tracing his face down your inner thigh until his breath teased your core. “No one can make you feel how I can, huh, baby?”

Dangerous words.

Dangerous truth.

“No one, Buggy, please.”

“I’ve got you, gorgeous,” he purred as his hands pulled yours above your head, leaving one hand to trap yours there while the other caressed your body, toying with your chest. “Sing for your captain.”

Sloppy kisses to your clit made you squirm for him, whining as he sucked and teased, until you begged for more.

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear ya down here. Whatcha need, dollface?”

“Gods, your tongue, your nose, Buggy, please.”

“Mm, your pretty pussy missed me that much?”

He chuckled as you whined for him, then tilted his face down to rub that perfect nose over and around your sensitive clit. Part of you heard voices, maybe laughter from the couch, but you were too busy pouting, still begging for more.

“Your nose feels so good, baby. Give me more, please,” you pleaded as you shifted your hips, fighting for more friction.

“Since you asked so nicely,” he winked, shoving his face into your dripping cunt while you cried out his name.

It always felt like he was designed for this, that round nose giving the perfect pressure as he tasted you. You could feel him rutting against the mattress, his needy movements adding to the rhythm.

That floating hand massaging your chest focused in, and the teasing pinch to your nipple was enough to push you over the edge. He kept that rhythm and pressure to your clit while you came, and you laughed when he yelled “one,” before returning to his work.

“Do you want me deep?”

His eyes were dark, and heavy with need as he checked in. The sight of his drenched, messy face made you moan, taking a few breaths before you could answer.

“I want you so bad, Buggy, please. You make me feel so good,” you praised, gasping as that teasing hand wrapped fingers around your throat, warning, but not squeezing yet.

“Want me–”

“Choke me, Buggy, fucking take m–”

So many sensations at once. That lovely hand around your neck pressing tight, his face diving into your core as his nose circled your clit again, and his tongue going deep.

He licked and tasted you, like he was licking his plate clean, but that wicked tongue went further.

It had freaked you out a bit when he first tried it on you, but there was nothing in the world that could compare to Buggy’s tongue sinking all the way into you, that thick muscle tasting parts of you that no one could touch. It circled around inside you on its own until he found that sweet, spongy spot.

His tongue fucked into that spot, and tears streamed from your eyes while you screamed his name through his choking grasp. He didn’t let up as you rode through that orgasm, just released your throat to raise two fingers toward the couch.

“Gods, oh fuck, Buggy. It’s too mu–”

His hand clamped over your mouth, and he lifted just enough to shake his head, his tongue too busy for him to reply. He released your face, that hand teasing along your body while he kept up his attack, until he pressed his palm against your lower stomach.

The pressure of his tongue ramming against you from the inside meeting his hand felt like being hit by a fucking train. Your hands almost broke free as you spasmed, the sheer force of pleasure turning you into nothing but twitching, desperate flesh while you came on Buggy’s face.

Your vision came back slowly, sweet hands smoothing over your skin. The feel of his tongue sliding out of you to return to its rightful place arched your back, aftershocks rolling through you.

“Three,” Buggy bragged, leaving kisses on your arm. You hummed, hardly able to open your eyes.

“Ah, but the goal was four,” Mihawk taunted, his voice tensing through Buggy’s body beside you, “and it doesn’t look like Miss Y/N is able to finish the show. What do you think, Crocodile?”

“She knows what’s gonna happen to her,” he growled, and you rolled your head to the side to watch those frightening gray eyes. He looked at you like you were the last bit of food on a desert island, and his hand fisting over himself made your eyes roll back.

“The show must go on,” Buggy laughed nervously, his well earned confidence already floating away.

You reached out to him, your arms shaking until he crawled up your body. You returned his little smile, goosebumps rolling over your skin at the feel of him with you, and all he’d done.

“Fuck me,” you whispered, voice hoarse from him. He looked you over, eyes pouring over your features, until he gave you another smile, wide and wicked.

“Anything for my star.”

He wasted no time, his thick cock pushing into you easily with all the work he’d done. He let out little whimpers, and you clenched around him, wanting him so fucking bad. But he shook himself, rolling his hips into you as he brought a thumb to dance along your clit.

“You like putting on a show,” he asked, his voice a bit strained as he fought himself. “I knew you were a star, and you’ve got the audience wrapped around your little finger, huh? Look at how hard their cocks are just for you. Give them a show, baby.”

Buggy’s breathing went rough as he fucked into you harder. He grabbed your cheeks, your lips pressing out as he made you look at them.

Oh fuck.

Crocodile and Mihawk both had their cocks in their hands, jerking themselves off at the sight of you.

“Buggy, I’m–”

“Fuck, Y/N, you’re so fucking perfect…”

He held you close as you fell to pieces together. His racing heart, his ragged breaths, and the scent of his skin felt delicious. Even with the twitching of his cock as he spilled his come into you, even with the orgasm that rocked through you, the overwhelming feeling you had in Buggy’s arms was comfort.

“You feeling good, gorgeous,” he asked softly, kissing along your jaw.

“So good,” you hummed, gasping as he twitched inside you, your body clenching around his.

“Well done, toys,” Mihawk praised as the weight on the bed shifted. “Now, open wide.”

“You looked so pretty for daddy,” Crocodile praised while Mihawk pulled Buggy off of you. “Be a good girl, and tell me where you want it.”

He bit his lower lip while you stared at his veiny cock, so fucking close.

“My face. Come on my face, daddy, please.”

“Fuck, gods damn,” he groaned with a breathless laugh. “You are such a good girl. Mm, lick the tip for me sweet– fuck.”

You could already feel his come dripping down your skin when you reached out to taste him, his last shuddering moan making him thrust lightly against your mouth.

“Look at you,” he purred, tracing his thumb over your lips after you licked them clean.

“Our pets have been very well behaved today,” Mihawk praised, moving close beside the larger man before gesturing toward Buggy’s come-covered face. You let out a giggle, then tried to apologize when he met your eyes.

“Not the matching face paint I was thinking of, but I’ll take it,” he interrupted with a wink, earning very subtle, but real chuckles from the other men on the bed.

Crocodile pulled you against his chest, and you realized that in this moment you felt comfort with all three of these bad men. You grinned to yourself at the thought of what home meant to you while you watched Mihawk play with the come that had spilled down to Buggy’s chest.

“Let’s get cleaned up, pets,” he said brightly, managing to crawl gracefully out of the bed. “We can’t have Adam curling up on these sticky sheets.”

“No cats on the bed,” Crocodile ordered, frowning at your pouting lip. “Don’t you start.”

“Sorry, daddy,” you laughed as you rolled away from him.

Buggy grabbed your hand, and you laughed your way to the bathroom, leaving the other men to argue about the new furry roommate. Buggy tossed you a washcloth, and you both wiped what you could of those men off of your skin before he started the shower. He pulled you in to press you against the far wall.

“There’s something I didn’t get to tell you before…” he whispered, tilting his nose away so he could be closer to your face while the water drowned out his words. “Can I tell you now, pretty star?”

His deep blue eyes seemed deeper than you’d ever seen, and your breath caught in your throat.

Why am I tense?

“Okay,” you managed to whisper, waiting to breathe properly again.

He nodded a few times as he looked down, before cradling your face, rubbing his thumbs against your cheeks.

“I know things are– well you know how it is, but…” he trailed off, scanning your face as if watching every movement.

“Buggy…”

“I love you, Y/N,” he confessed, his brows lifting high as his breathing seemed heavy, heavier as he waited for you to reply. He stared at your parted lips until more words hurried out of him. “I loved you before, and I still love you now. You’re my pretty star, no matter what, right?”

The worry in his voice broke you out of your stupor, and you wrapped your arms around him.

“Buggy, I–”

He pulled you under the water, the heat making you gasp as the door to the bathroom opened.

“Here you are, pets. Sir Crocodile’s list of expectations if Adam is to stay with us.”

Mihawk dropped a pad of paper onto the counter, cocking his head at you both while Crocodile followed close behind.

“Why haven’t you started on that hair? It’s late enough as it is,” Mihawk tutted, and you couldn’t keep your mouth from falling open as you watched Mihawk take Buggy’s long hair into his hands. Buggy’s eyes fluttered shut at the swordsman’s touch, but his words kept ringing in your ears, even as Crocodile smiled at you, hunching down to rinse his hair.

Adam wasn’t allowed in tonight, so it was just the four of you climbing onto that giant bed, four of you pressed in so close. You and Buggy curled in against each other’s chests, with Crocodile around your back, and Mihawk curling around Buggy to lay his long fingers somewhere along your side.

Tonight Mihawk’s fingers teased along your ribs, his thumb almost tickling as it played down your stomach. Crocodile kissed the back of your head, and your comforting sleeping arrangement was complete.

Something about the way Buggy held you felt different.

Is it different? Or did I just not notice it before?

His breathing was slow, and the way he stroked your hair and pressed his lips to your forehead in a gentle kiss should have been comforting.

You should have fallen asleep by now.

Instead, you laid there as the three men around you fell asleep. You laid there in the most comfortable, most comforting position you’d ever been in.

But you couldn’t fall asleep.

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you!!

a/n: BUGGYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!! 😭🤡

Part 15

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hollowed-theory-hall · 2 days

Text

Harry was never really Dumbledore's man

So, in HBP Harry says himself:

“Well, it is clear to me that he has done a very good job on you,” said Scrimgeour, his eyes cold and hard behind his wire-rimmed glasses. “Dumbledore’s man through and through, aren’t you, Potter?” “Yeah, I am,” said Harry.

(HBP, 348)

But, I'm here to argue Harry actually has many many doubts and reservations about Dumbledore throughout all books (even HBP), and I find it interesting how Harry convinced the Wizarding world (and the readers) that he's Dumbledore's man when he isn't. Not really.

(Just makes me all the more annoyed at him calling his son Albus...)

I'm going to go through some examples of Harry showing his doubts about Dumbledore way before book 7. Because Harry is an abused, distrusting boy, and Dumbledore isn't actually an exception to that until very late into the books. And even when Harry chooses to trust Dumbledore's intentions, he never fully trusts his judgment.

“D’you think he meant you to do it?” said Ron. “Sending you your father’s cloak and everything?” “Well, ” Hermione exploded, “if he did — I mean to say that’s terrible — you could have been killed.” “No, it isn’t,” said Harry thoughtfully. “He’s a funny man, Dumbledore. I think he sort of wanted to give me a chance. I think he knows more or less everything that goes on here, you know. I reckon he had a pretty good idea we were going to try, and instead of stopping us, he just taught us enough to help. I don’t think it was an accident he let me find out how the mirror worked. It’s almost like he thought I had the right to face Voldemort if I could….”

(PS, 217)

This quote above is from the ending of Philosopher's Stone and the outlook Harry, Ron, and Hermione have on Dumbledore and his behavior is the same as seen in the later books. So I wanted to talk about each of them and how they see Dumbledore because this quote really sets the tone for the rest of the series.

Ron is doubtful and distrustful. The situation is odd, and he's clever, he analyzed the situation and came to a frightening conclusion — the whole ordeal seemed planned by Dumbledore. And Ron isn't scared of voicing this question.

Hermione, while not always a rule-follower, respects Dumbledore and his authority. A lot. So, she doesn't believe Dumbledore could've planned it as it would reflect badly on his character and authority. Hermione is a very loyal person, and once she decides she respects someone she is willfully blind to their flaws (we see it with her later in the series).

Harry, while he's clever enough to notice the same things Ron did and come to the same conclusion — that Dumbledore planned for an 11-year-old to face Voldemort — he attributes good intentions to Dumbledore. Harry sees the situation and draws his conclusions, but chooses to hope/believe Dumbledore's intentions were good ones.

Harry’s brain seemed to have jammed. He stared numbly at Riddle, at the orphaned boy who had grown up to murder Harry’s own parents, and so many others. . . . At last he forced himself to speak. “You’re not,” he said, his quiet voice full of hatred. “Not what?” snapped Riddle. “Not the greatest sorcerer in the world,” said Harry, breathing fast. “Sorry to disappoint you and all that, but the greatest wizard in the world is Albus Dumbledore. Everyone says so. Even when you were strong, you didn’t dare try and take over at Hogwarts. Dumbledore saw through you when you were at school and he still frightens you now, wherever you’re hiding these days —” The smile had gone from Riddle’s face, to be replaced by a very ugly look. “Dumbledore’s been driven out of this castle by the mere memory of me!” he hissed. “He’s not as gone as you might think!” Harry retorted. He was speaking at random, wanting to scare Riddle, wishing rather than believing it to be true —

(CoS, 282)

This is one of the scenes people call to to show how much faith Harry has in Dumbledore (even Dumbledore himself), the thing is, Harry says (in his mind) he's just saying things to try and scare Tom. To try and buy time, or unbalance Tom so he may have a chance at escape.

The important note is that Harry doesn't actually believe what he's saying to Tom. He's just saying what he thinks would bother Tom the most.

Harry had never shared this piece of information with anybody. He was very fond of his wand, and as far as he was concerned its relation to Voldemort’s wand was something it couldn’t help — rather as he couldn’t help being related to Aunt Petunia. However, he really hoped that Mr. Ollivander wasn’t about to tell the room about it. He had a funny feeling Rita Skeeter’s Quick-Quotes Quill might just explode with excitement if he did.

(GoF, 310)

This part about telling no one about his wand's connection to Voldemort is true. He never told anyone by that point in GoF. Not Ron, not Hermione, not Dumbledore, not even Sirius.

As I mentioned above, Harry is abused and distrustful. He's not at all Dumbledore's perfect soldier who trusts him with everything. In GoF, Harry decides against telling Dumbledore about his dreams and the pain in his scar:

“Your scar hurt? Harry, that’s really serious. . . . Write to Professor Dumbledore! And I’ll go and check Common Magical Ailments and Afflictions. . . . Maybe there’s something in there about curse scars. . . .” Yes, that would be Hermione’s advice: Go straight to the headmaster of Hogwarts, and in the meantime, consult a book. [...] As for informing the headmaster, Harry had no idea where Dumbledore went during the summer holidays. He amused himself for a moment, picturing Dumbledore, with his long silver beard, fulllength wizard’s robes, and pointed hat, stretched out on a beach somewhere, rubbing suntan lotion onto his long crooked nose. Wherever Dumbledore was, though, Harry was sure that Hedwig would be able to find him; Harry’s owl had never yet failed to deliver a letter to anyone, even without an address. But what would he write? Dear Professor Dumbledore, Sorry to bother you, but my scar hurt this morning. Yours sincerely, Harry Potter. Even inside his head the words sounded stupid.

(GoF, 21)

Harry doesn't wish to share secrets with Dumbledore, nor does he feel comfortable to go to him with his troubles (his go-to adult while Sirius was around was always Sirius). Again, Hermione is mentioned as the one who trusts Dumbledore's authority, in Harry's head, but he's right, he knows her well.

Harry actually spends a good portion of the series purposefully trying to hide information from Dumbledore. (I'm saying 'trying ' because Dumbledore always found out, but not because Harry told him).

“He seemed to think it was best,” said Hermione rather breathlessly. “Dumbledore, I mean.” “Right,” said Harry. He noticed that her hands too bore the marks of Hedwig’s beak and found that he was not at all sorry. “I think he thought you were safest with the Muggles —” Ron began. “Yeah?” said Harry, raising his eyebrows. “Have either of you been attacked by dementors this summer?” “Well, no — but that’s why he’s had people from the Order of the Phoenix tailing you all the time -” Harry felt a great jolt in his guts as though he had just missed a step going downstairs. So everyone had known he was being followed except him. “Didn’t work that well, though, did it?” said Harry, doing his utmost to keep his voice even. “Had to look after myself after all, didn’t I?” “He was so angry,” said Hermione in an almost awestruck voice. “Dumbledore. We saw him. When he found out Mundungus had left before his shift had ended. He was scary.” “Well, I’m glad he left,” Harry said coldly. “If he hadn’t, I wouldn’t have done magic and Dumbledore would probably have left me at Privet Drive all summer.”

(OotP, 63)

Harry is angry here, true, but he doubts Dumbledore's idea of what's "safe" for him. He's actually glad for the dementors because he doubts Dumbledore would've brought him over if it wasn't an emergency.

And Harry is right to be doubtful and suspicious. He's right that he's less safe at the Dursleys than at Grimmauld Place. He's right to feel angry and betrayed at literally everyone knowing he's being followed except for him. He's right Dumbledore probably wouldn't have brought him if it wasn't for the dementor attack. Harry is correct in each and every one of his assessments of Dumbledore's character and decisions here.

“No,” said Harry, shaking his head. “It’s more like . . . his mood, I suppose. I’m just getting flashes of what mood he’s in. . . . Dumbledore said something like this was happening last year. . . . He said that when Voldemort was near me, or when he was feeling hatred, I could tell. Well, now I’m feeling it when he’s pleased too. . . .” There was a pause. The wind and rain lashed at the building. “You’ve got to tell someone,” said Ron. “I told Sirius last time.” “Well, tell him about this time!” “Can’t, can I?” said Harry grimly. “Umbridge is watching the owls and the fires, remember?” “Well then, Dumbledore —” “I’ve just told you, he already knows,” said Harry shortly, getting to his feet, taking his cloak off his peg, and swinging it around himself. “There’s no point telling him again.” Ron did up the fastening of his own cloak, watching Harry thoughtfully. “Dumbledore’d want to know,” he said. Harry shrugged. “C’mon . . . we’ve still got Silencing Charms to practice . . .”

(OotP, 382)

Remember I mentioned Harry hiding things from Dumbledore? This is one of such occasions. There are more in GoF that I didn't copy, but this is an example of Voldemort-related, dangerous information Harry is hiding from Dumbledore because he doesn't trust him and doesn't feel comfortable telling him things.

“It’s lessons with Snape that are making it worse,” said Harry flatly. “I’m getting sick of my scar hurting, and I’m getting bored walking down that corridor every night.” He rubbed his forehead angrily. “I just wish the door would open, I’m sick of standing staring at it —” “That’s not funny,” said Hermione sharply. “Dumbledore doesn’t want you to have dreams about that corridor at all, or he wouldn’t have asked Snape to teach you Occlumency. You’re just going to have to work a bit harder in your lessons.” “I am working!” said Harry, nettled. “You try it sometime, Snape trying to get inside your head, it’s not a bundle of laughs, you know!” “Maybe . . .” said Ron slowly. “Maybe what?” said Hermione rather snappishly. “Maybe it’s not Harry’s fault he can’t close his mind,” said Ron darkly. “What do you mean?” said Hermione. “Well, maybe Snape isn’t really trying to help Harry. . . .” Harry and Hermione stared at him. Ron looked darkly and meaningfully from one to the other. “Maybe,” he said again in a lower voice, “he’s actually trying to open Harry’s mind a bit wider . . . make it easier for You-Know —” “Shut up, Ron,” said Hermione angrily. “How many times have you suspected Snape, and when have you ever been right? Dumbledore trusts him, he works for the Order, that ought to be enough.” “He used to be a Death Eater,” said Ron stubbornly. “And we’ve never seen proof that he really swapped sides. . . .” “Dumbledore trusts him,” Hermione repeated. “And if we can’t trust Dumbledore, we can’t trust anyone.”

(OotP, 554)

Again we see the same exact dynamic from first year. Hermione is loyal to Dumbledore, not even considering he might be wrong about something, or not have their best interests at heart. Ron and Harry on the other hand, are both open to the possibility that things aren't so simple. They don't think Dumbledore is intentionally harming Harry, but they think he's wrong about Snape. Something Hermione, Arthur and Molly would never consider.

(This is actually the most annoying thing in Hermione's character for me, her unshakable faith in Dumbledore, who doesn't deserve her trust)

“. . . so you see what this means?” Harry finished at a gallop. “Dumbledore won’t be here tonight, so Malfoy’s going to have another clear shot at whatever he’s up to. No, listen to me!” he hissed angrily, as both Ron and Hermione showed every sign of interrupting. “I know it was Malfoy celebrating in the Room of Requirement. Here —” He shoved the Marauder’s Map into Hermione’s hands. “You’ve got to watch him and you’ve got to watch Snape too. Use anyone else who you can rustle up from the D.A., Hermione, those contact Galleons will still work, right? Dumbledore says he’s put extra protection in the school, but if Snape’s involved, he’ll know what Dumbledore’s protection is, and how to avoid it — but he won’t be expecting you lot to be on the watch, will he?” “Harry —” began Hermione, her eyes huge with fear.

(HBP, 552)

Even in book 6, the book Harry grows the most comfortable and trusting towards Dumbledore, even then, he doesn't trust Dumbledore. He thinks (and somewhat rightly so because he doesn't know of Snape and Dumbledore's plan) that Dumbledore is wrong about Snape. that Dumbledore is wrong about Malfoy. Harry doesn't trust that whatever protections Dumbledore would leave would be enough (and they weren't).

Even at the end of HBP, the point in the series where Harry has the most faith in Dumbledore, Harry still doesn't trust Dumbledore's judgment or his ability to protect the school. Even after Dumbledore calls Harry out on it, telling him the safety of the students is important to him, Harry still tells Ron and Hermione to get the DA to protect the school without notifying Dumbledore.

And Dumbledore raised Harry to feel responsible for the school's safety, Harry is doing what he was "bred" to do. But he does it behind Dumbledore's back, because like every adult, Harry deep down expects to be let down. After all, he's used to saving the school himself.

So, no, Harry never really trusted Dumbledore fully. At least, not Dumbledore's judgment. Harry does believe Dumbledore's intentions are good for the most part, even if ineffective.

“He never told me his sister was a Squib,” said Harry, without thinking, still cold inside. “And why on earth would he tell you?” screeched Muriel, swaying a little in her seat as she attempted to focus upon Harry [...] Where was saintly Albus while Ariana was locked in the cellar? Off being brilliant at Hogwarts, and never mind what was going on in his own house!” “What d’you mean, locked in the cellar?” asked Harry. “What is this?” Doge looked wretched. Auntie Muriel cackled again and answered Harry. [...] Numbly Harry thought of how the Dursleys had once shut him up, locked him away, kept him out of sight, all for the crime of being a wizard. Had Dumbledore’s sister suffered the same fate in reverse: imprisoned for her lack of magic? Had Dumbledore truly left her to her fate while he went off to Hogwarts to prove himself brilliant and talented?

(DH, 135-137)

And in Deathley Hollows, Harry is very quick to start questioning and doubting Dumbledore. Especially when compared to Hermione:

“Harry—” But he shook his head. Some inner certainty had crashed down inside him; it was exactly as he had felt after Ron left. He had trusted Dumbledore, believed him the embodiment of goodness and wisdom. All was ashes: How much more could he lose? Ron, Dumbledore, the phoenix wand . . . “Harry.” She seemed to have heard his thoughts. “Listen to me. It—it doesn’t make very nice reading—” “Yeah, you could say that—” “—but don’t forget, Harry this is Rita Skeeter writing.” “You did read that letter to Grindelwald, didn’t you?” “Yes, I—I did.” She hesitated, looking upset, cradling her tea in her cold hands.

(DH, 311)

Harry is hurt, he feels betrayed, because while he never 100% trusted Dumbledore's judgment, he trusted his intentions. He trusted Dumbledore was good and cared for him. He feels cold and betrayed, showing trust in his intentions. But his readiness to accept Skeeter's and Muriel's accusations so quickly shows he always had his doubts about Dumbledore and they never really left, even if he wanted to trust him, he never did, not fully.

Hermione, on the other hand, who was always loyal and trusted Dumbledore (both his intentions and judgment) 100%, tries to rationalize Dumbledore's actions and convince herself everyone who says bad things about him is lying.

Harry doesn't. Because out of the Golden Trio, Hermione was always Dumbledore's woman, Ron and Harry... not really. Not as much.

“That old berk,” muttered Aberforth, taking another swig of mead. “Thought the sun shone out of my brother’s every office, he did. Well, so did plenty of people, you three included, by the looks of it.” Harry kept quiet. He did not want to express the doubts and uncertainties about Dumbledore that had riddled him for months now. He had made his choice while he dug Dobby’s grave, he had decided to continue along the winding, dangerous path indicated for him by Albus Dumbledore, to accept that he had not been told everything that he wanted to know, but simply to trust. He had no desire to doubt again; he did not want to hear anything that would deflect him from his purpose. He met Aberforth’s gaze, which was so strikingly like his brothers’: The bright blue eyes gave the same impression that they were X-raying the object of their scrutiny, and Harry thought that Aberforth knew what he was thinking and despised him for it. “Professor Dumbledore cared about Harry, very much,” said Hermione in a low voice. “Did he now?” said Aberforth. “Funny thing how many of the people my brother cared about very much ended up in a worse state than if he’d left ’em well alone.”

(DH, 478)

More of how Harry thinks about Dumbledore, showing, again, how he always had his doubts and reservations but he chooses to trust Dumbledore's intentions because otherwise, he doesn't think he has any hope to defeat Voldemort. He chooses to keep following Dumbledore's path because he has no real choice but to trust what he sees as the only path that'll lead to Voldemort's destruction. But Harry has plenty of doubts about Dumbledore.

Hermione, on the other hand, has little to no doubts. She doesn't allow herself to doubt.

And this pattern, of Harry doubting Dumbledore again and again, never truly trusting him, just trusting his plan will kill Voldemort... like, how does that lead Harry to want to name his kid 'Albus'? I just don't get it...

TL;DR

Harry likes to say he's Dumbledore's man, but he always had his reservations, even when he choose to ignore them since trusting Dumbledore's plan felt like his only chance at survival. Hermione is much more trusting of Dumbledore than Harry is.

#harry potter #hp #harry potter thoughts #hp thoughts #harry potter meta #hp meta #hollowedtheory #hp theory #harry james potter #harry potter analysis #albus dumbledore

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seungrem · 3 days

Text

nightwing x male!reader

‘Confidential: Red Hood’s SAR’ (p. 2)

Part 1 *** - Masterlist *** - Part 2 of ??

summary: Reader leaves the Wayne residence with a vigilante to help find his MIA friends. With a long night ahead, Red Hood and reader tread carefully.

( overview: college student!reader, cop???grayson, Alessio Falcone = made up character, kidnapping, hero-canon-typical violence, henchmen, villains & police. few Batfam features, esp. Red Hood. )

emoji code:

🌿 ( long story & series - 5.1k words )

-🧸 ( light fluff )

-🫧 ( light angst, canon-typical violence )

☁️ ( stands for y/n )

likes, comments, & reblogs r appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

The bustling city that was Gotham presented almost-vacant streets to the duo speeding through them. Red Hood’s motorcycle roared as ☁️ clung tight onto the vigilante’s torso, practically scared for his life.

It took only a few minutes before the two had reached Gotham University’s campus. Red Hood turned his bike lights off and turned slowly into a familiar side street before pulling over and stopping completely.

“Get off.” Red Hood instructed, the boy doing as told immediately. The vigilante dug into one of his black pant’s many pockets, pulling out a small ear piece. He held it out to ☁️ while using his other hand to dig some more.

“Put this into your ear.” His voice buzzed through his mask, ☁️ following his order again. The boy watched as Red Hood pulled his hand out of another pocket and tossed a small metal square to him. It was light with a smaller square carved into the middle.

“This is in case everything goes south. It’ll alert the police, so only use it when I say to.”

☁️ nodded in understanding, a bit intimidated by the masked man in front of him.

“Here are the rules. Do as I say. Stay behind me unless I say otherwise. Don’t be loud, and use the earpieces when trying to talk to me from a distance. Just tap and hold it- it’ll basically act as a walkie-talkie. Got it?”

“How do you use the square?” ☁️ asked, holding it out to him.

“You press the smaller square in the middle. Put it in your pocket so you don’t do it accidentally.”

☁️ nodded, putting it into his right pocket that also held his phone. Red Hood kicked his stand up.

“We need to go, get on.”

☁️ jumped onto the bike and threw his hands around the vigilante, the man then accelerating forward. He turned left into an alley with a dirt road, moving quickly without making much noise. Driving through the grass after steering off-road, Red Hood swerved slyly around trees despite the lack of light.

With the two now on the barn’s side, the two hopped off of the bike and let it fall to the ground. The vigilante pulled an object from out of a pocket and aimed it at the roof, shooting a rope that clung to the top of the building. He attached the object to his hip and turned to ☁️.

“We’re climbing up.” Red hood stated, pushing ☁️ in front of the rope. Placing one foot onto the building, the boy attempted to pull himself up and begin climbing. He began sliding back down almost immediately, causing the vigilante to groan.

“This was a mistake..”

☁️ sighed. “I don’t climb up buildings everyday. Sorry.”

He watched as Red Hood placed a foot on the building’s side and held the rope in his fist. “I’ll push you up, step in front of me.”

☁️ furrowed his eyebrows but did as told, grabbing some of the rope and lifting a foot up.

“Now start walking up, I’ll keep a hand on you.”

☁️ started upwards with Red Hood’s hand supporting his back.

“Go quicker.”

The boy began tugging at the rope with more force, the two almost running up the barn’s side. After a few minutes of struggling, Red Hood pushed ☁️ over the edge and onto the black triangular roof. He then jumped up next to him, grabbing the rope device’s hook out of a roof tile.

☁️ turned to lean against the roof, him getting nervous after looking at the ground more than 40 feet below. Red Hood waved his hand to get the boy’s attention. He held a finger to his ear and used his other hand to open a large hatch.

“Again, here’s the plan. I go in, you stay a few steps behind me. Don’t do anything unless I tell you to. We’re going to jump into the hayloft, and make our way down. Oh, and talk in whispers with the communicators. Got it?” ☁️ heard Red hood speak in whispers through the device in his hear. The vigilante then jumped through the hatch, leaving it open for ☁️. The boy lowered a leg in but couldn’t feel the floor, causing him to grab the hatch’s door and hold it over his head. He jumped in, letting it close without much noise.

The hayloft was pitch black, with the only light coming from the small rectangular windows on the front and back ends of the walls. ☁️ placed his finger on his ear.

“How are we supposed to see in the dark?”

“The mask has night vision. I’ll give you my flashlight.”

☁️ felt an object tap his arm a few seconds later, making him jump lightly. After realizing it was probably the flashlight, he grabbed it and switched it on.

“Keep it on the lowest setting, but turn it off if there’s people around.” Red Hood instructed as ☁️ followed him over to another hatch.

“Okay.”

The vigilante opened it slightly and scanned the area as the boy waited behind him.

“This doesn’t look like a barn on the inside. Looks more like an old home. Get ready to jump in.” Red Hood whispered as ☁️ kneeled beside him. The man opened the hatch slightly and slipped in, ☁️ following right behind. The two stood in the middle of a dusty hallway with red carpeting over a wooden floor. The wallpaper a pale green with floral designs, it truly did look like an old home. A man lied motionless on the floor a few feet in front of the two, Red Hood walking over to him and kneeling down.

“Nightwing is here, but he’s on the other side of this big ass building. We need to find him before we do anything else.” Red hood whispered through his communicator.

“But what about the missing people? Could that guy be one of them?”

“Doesn’t look like it.. he has a walkie talkie in his jacket pocket. We’ll find the students when we find him.”

☁️ didn’t understand, but also didn’t question it. He stepped over the knocked-out man and followed Red Hood down the dimly lit hallway line with a few white doors. ☁️ eventually trudged down a wooden staircase that sat against the wall, with the only noise being the creaking wood in which they stepped on.

Red Hood pulled his guns out and aimed them at the floor below them, causing ☁️ to crouch down as he descended slowly from behind. The man cleared the area, motioning for ☁️ to come off of the steps and into the small room of wooden walls and a floor of dirt. To the right was a wooden wall that held a large amount of farm materials. There were metal boxes that laid against this wall, which ☁️ almost immediately recognized. He looked to the left to find a wide walkway that led down what seemed like forever. There were very few lights hanging from above, leaving the ground in large circles of yellow, illuminated areas surrounded by darkness. The walls were also wooden there, and the floor was nothing but dirt and pieces of hay. ☁️ quickly turned his attention back to the boxes beside him, placing a finger to his ear as Red Hood approached the walkway.

“I saw them carrying these in.”

Red Hood turned around, then hurrying over to ☁️ and opening one of the metallic suitcases. With the boy shining his flashlight over it, the two caught sight of small vials of olive green liquid lying side by side- most having already been removed. The man grabbed a couple and handed them to ☁️, looking over his shoulder as he did so.

“Put these in your pocket and don’t let them break. Turn off your flashlight, too.”

☁️ nodded, placing the vials into his left pocket and switching the flashlight off. He threw it into his hoodie pocket and turned his attention back to Red Hood.

“Also, new plan. If you see anybody, you let me know immediately. Keep your eyes pealed at all times. Even on the ceilings. Let’s go.”

Red Hood grabbed a few pieces of rope from a tool rack above him and handed them to a concerned ☁️.

“What do you mean? What’re in the tubes?”

“I have an idea, but you don’t need to worry about it unless you breathe it in. So don’t break ‘em.”

As the two made their way toward the walkway, the vigilante pushed the boy to the wall.

“Stay against the walls so you’re in the shadows. Use the ropes when I say to.”

“For what?”

“Don’t question me.” Red Hood whispered in response, running to the other side of the wall and disappearing into the shadows. ☁️’s ear piece buzzed. “We need to cover a lot of ground. Make sure you move quickly.”

☁️ saw the flash of the vigilante’s mask hurry alongside the wall, him then doing the same. They passed a few doors held shut by wooden planks before coming across a man lying in the center of a lit area. Red Hood whispered a “Stop.” before stepping out of the shadow to examine the man. ☁️ watched nervously as the vigilante checked his pulse and inspected his body.

Turning his head to look behind the three of them, ☁️ didn’t see anybody around. Upon scanning the area in front of them, he noticed another two bodies in the distance. Red Hood jumped back into the shadows a moment later.

“He’s fine, just beat up. Keep moving.”

“There’s more of them two lights ahead.”

☁️ heard Red Hood mutter a “shit..” before responding.

“Someone’s messing with us. Keep going.”

Red Hood popped back out of the shadows to check the people in the distance, causing ☁️ to continue down the hallway while still against the wall.

Him now standing opposite to the vigilante, he watched as Red Hood hurried back out of the light after checking over the people.

“They’re also fine. My monitor says Nightwing’s right behind that door. I’m gonna go in first, wait a few minutes before following.”

☁️ glanced over to the wooden door that was now around 20 feet away. A glare caught the boy’s eye, causing him to shift his gaze onto a wooden beam high up near the ceiling. A black figure stood beside the hanging light, stalking them in an animalistic stance. ☁️ placed his finger to his ear almost immediately.

“Uh- there’s someone above us on the ceiling’s beam. See them?”

“Shit...” Red Hood muttered. “Go back to the other end of the room and lay low. Hurry up.”

☁️ jogged back, but stopped halfway to see what would happen. He knelt next to one of the wooden doors, placing a hand on it as he waited.

A few muffled shots echoed through the hallway, surprising ☁️- though mostly due to the sound not being as loud as he would’ve thought. The figure on the beam ran out of sight after Red Hood shot at them from the shadows. He boldly walked into the middle of the illuminated area beside to two people lying on the ground, seemingly waiting for the figure to approach him. Upon keeping his gaze at the ceiling, ☁️ could see the figure swinging over to another beam above him. ☁️ placed his hand on his ear once again.

“He’s on the beam behind you.”

As soon as Red Hood turned around, a man of black and blues swooped down directly at him. The man barely jumping out of the way, ☁️ watched as Nightwing charged at the vigilante with batons in hand. Red Hood fired more shots, causing ☁️ to duck down.

Nightwing’s movements were disoriented and slow, allowing Red Hood to slam him onto the ground and pin him.

“☁️, the ropes!”

☁️ rushed out of the shadows and over to a struggling Red Hood. Upon reaching him, the boy watched as Nightwing threw Red Hood off of him and rolled toward ☁️ in a combative stance. The boy yelped and took a few steps back from the hero, who slowly approached him. After a few seconds, Nightwing pulled out an electric baton and prepared to throw it at ☁️, who then leaped into the shadows. Red Hood released a few shots from behind the two immediately after, ☁️ witnessing Nightwing’s dramatic descent to the ground. Seeing the hero hold his legs and groan in pain, ☁️ hurried over to stand beside Red Hood.

“You shot Nightwing?”

“They’re rubber bullets. He’ll be alright.”

“Well, what do we do now?”

“I need to make a call. Drag him into the shadow.”

☁️ huffed as he walked over to the man, afraid to touch him. After quickly grabbing Nightwing’s batons from beside him and rolling them over to the wall, ☁️ took Nightwing’s arm and slowly dragged him to the wall. He softly rested his head on the ground, unsure of what the hero’s lack of resistance meant. The man then grabbed ☁️’s wrist and pulled it back, causing the boy to fall onto a knee. ☁️ grabbed the electric baton from beside him without thinking twice, shoving it into Nightwing’s arm. He shook violently for a second or two before ☁️ threw the stick back to the side, feeling Nightwing’s grasp loosen and his head fell back. Red Hood approached the two of them upon seeing the altercation.

“Robin’s on his way. Stay put and wait for him to come.”

“Why couldn’t Batman come?”

“This is beneath him apparently. I’m going into the room now, stay here and use the batons again if needed.”

☁️ nodded, watching as Red Hood ran over to the double-wooden doors at the end of the hallway. Upon opening it, ☁️ could see a few people already on the ground, choosing to look away. He became anxious, wondering where Alessio and Dick were. He crawled beside Nightwing’s head and sat as the sound of glass breaking, people yelling, and muffled gunshots echoed out of the next room.

“I wonder if you were able to find Alessio or Dick.” ☁️ looked over to Nightwing, who remained asleep on the floor. Wondering how he came to be sitting beside a knocked-out hero with another shooting up the room beside him, he sighed. “You really should wake up soon.”

—

While ☁️ waited for Robin, Red Hood took the many ropes that the boy carried, using them to tie the arms of everyone in the next room. ☁️ didn’t question it, and he didn’t bother looking inside either. The air quickly became thick, and an unshakable headache lingered in ☁️’s head.

It took Robin around 15 minutes to arrive and then find Nightwing. Upon running over to the two with a black suitcase in hand, he opened the box and injected something into Nightwing’s arm. The hero woke up after a few minutes of distribution, him rising up as if coming back from the dead. ☁️ hadn’t seen Red Hood since he had left the room.

“Did I get high on that shit again?” Nightwing asked, rubbing his head.

“Red Hood said you did.” Robin responded.

The two simultaneously shifted their attention to ☁️, who was taken aback by the man’s familiar voice.

“Oh, uh ☁️.. Why’re you.. here?” Nightwing asked in a much deeper tone, grabbing his batons from behind ☁️ and standing up. Robin and the boy followed his action, though Nightwing didn’t last long before falling into ☁️ and wincing in pain. He gripped the boy’s shoulder as he placed all of his weight onto him, ☁️ silently struggling to keep him up.

“My uh.. friend, Jason, sent his.. “friend” to help find my friends, but his friend was pretty focused on finding you.”

As if on cue, Red Hood walked out of the room dragging a motionless scarecrow on the floor. ☁️ didn’t pay him much mind, though, as Nightwing’s weight held his attention hostage- oh. And the fact that the hero knew his name.

“Wait.. how do you know my name?”

“He took you here..?” Nightwing gritted through his teeth. Robin laughed nervously, grabbing Nightwing’s arm and throwing it over his shoulder to help hold him up. The boy motioned ☁️ away, him hearing the three of them “discussing” a few seconds later.

☁️ wandered to closest wooden door along the walkway. A wooden plank lied horizontally, barring the door shut. After noticing a somewhat-large crack in the structure, he bent down and peered through it, seeing movement. ☁️ stood back up and softly removed the plank, placing it beside him. Opening the door slightly, a thin line of light illuminated what seemed to be a face. A metallic object beside the person reflected that light, it flashing in and out of view as the figure began slowly approaching ☁️. The person crawled on all fours, which scared the boy, causing him to gently shut the door. He turned to the trio a few feet away from him, noticing that they were all looking at him.

“You didn’t open that door, did you?” Nightwing asked sonorously, him then noticing the plank on the ground.

“Well, I-“

The door swung open, hitting ☁️ and causing him to trip over the plank. He turned his head while on his hands and knees, recognizing the boy who frantically ran out of the room. It was Alessio, but he had a look of vexation and bewilderment. His eyes were red, his brown hair messy, and his gray polo shirt slightly torn alongside large patches of dirt. Although relieved to see his friend alive, he knew the boy wasn’t in his right mind- ☁️ assuming he had suffered the same fate that Nightwing had.

Red Hood jumped between ☁️ and the animalistic Alessio a few feet behind him, while Robin threw Nightwing aside and rushed to help ☁️ stand up. Robin pulled the boy’s wrist forward, dragging him away from the conflict to where Nightwing sat. Robin then ran over to Red Hood as Alessio sat in a coiled stance, leaving Nightwing and ☁️ to watch in an awkward silence.

“You really shouldn’t be here. I’m sorry J-“ Nightwing paused. “Red Hood shouldn’t have brought you. I don’t think you understand how dangerous it is.” He looked over to ☁️, who sat beside him. Strands of his long black hair fell in front of his glowing, white eyes.

“I wanted to help.”

“I know, but you shouldn’t have come.”

Alessio would’ve been easy to take down if he wasn’t 6’3, athletic, and overly aggressive while high on toxins. Red Hood didn’t use his guns, but Robin pulled out a lengthy bow staff. The two tossed him around for a minute before finally knocking the boy out. Nightwing and ☁️ stood still, continuing to watch.

“Ya’know..” Nightwing coughed. ☁️ turned to look over to him. “..I barred those doors for a reason.”

“What do you mean?”

“Scarecrow had his experiments roaming around freely.. and some were even attacking the henchmen. I had to take all of them down and place them in different rooms, all by myself.” Nightwing boasted, but ☁️ didn’t immediately catch onto it.

“Is that why those guys were knocked out in the hallway?” ☁️ asked, slyly pointing to the small group of henchmen sitting tied up against the opposite side of the wall. Though the two were many feet away from them, the men seemed to know they were talking about them. Nightwing looked at ☁️ and pursed his lips, the light from above casting an odd shadow below them.

“I- … uh, Probably.”

☁️ kept his thoughts to himself, smiling as the hero looked away. He watched as Robin administered what seemed like the toxin’s cure into Alessio’s arm. He didn’t wake up nearly as quickly as Nightwing did.

——

“You okay?”

☁️ sat beside his friend against the wall, Alessio rubbing his head. Although the two sat in the darkness, ☁️ could still make out the boy’s tired look.

“I’m pissed.”

☁️ sighed. “Well..”

Alessio looked over to ☁️, furrowing his eyebrows. “I’m sorry. I gotta stop doin’ stupid shit.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay… Your dad is livid, though. Do you wanna call him?”

The boy nodded, taking his friend’s phone after ☁️ slid it out of his right pocket. Robin approached the two a few seconds later.

“☁️, can you help me?”

Nodding, he stood up and followed Robin to the other end of the hallway, where three people lied next to each other on the ground.

“Were you able to find my other friend?”

“Oh,.. Dick? Yeaa, he was upstairs and.. found a way out of a window! So don’t worry about him.”

“You saw him get out safely?”

“Yes.. he was leaving when I came in. Anyway, everyone who had been exposed to the gas has been given a cure. Since what we used is from a previous encounter with Scarecrow, it’s not going to be immediately effective. That’s why your friend took longer to process what happened.”

“Oh, okay. So they’ll be up soon?” ☁️ asked, pointing beside the hero.

“Yes. Also, we locked Scarecrow in this room until the police come. Don’t open it.”

☁️ nodded, following Robin back in the other direction. “So, how’s Nightwing?”

“He’s still pissed about.. well, everything. He has a rubber bullet stuck in his leg and he’s still a bit drowsy. Can you help him walk over to the front so that he can greet the commissioner?”

The boy muttered an “Alright.” and walked over to where Nightwing sat in the dark. ☁️’s body turned into a shadow as he knelt beside the vigilante.

“I’m supposed to help you talk to the commissioner.” ☁️ said, looking into Nightwing’s glowing eyes.

“Okay, if you could help me up..”

☁️ stood and took hold of Nightwing’s glove, holding it tight as the man used his good leg to push himself up. Wrapping his arm around ☁️’s neck, the two walked slowly through the doors that Scarecrow got dragged through. The two awkwardly passed henchmen tied to chairs, tables, shelves, and even a stack of hay- courtesy of Red Hood.

Upon pushing through the door at the other end of the room, a long, dark hallway stood between the two of them and the front door.

“I don’t think it’s safe. Let me go first.” Nightwing said, stopping.

“You’d fall over if I let you go.”

“No I wouldn’t. I can walk.” Nightwing responded, seemingly offended.

“I’m not letting you go, so we’re going through together.”

☁️ took a step forward, causing the vigilante to hop. The two walked slowly and silently down the eerie hallway. Halfway through, Nightwing didn’t sense any danger, him consequently choosing to disrupt the lonely sound of crickets chirping.

“So.. is your friend okay?”

“Which one?”

“The big one.”

“They’re both big.”

“Falcone’s son.”

“Oh, yeah. He’s fine, just a bit annoyed.”

“Who’s the other one you were talking about?”

“His name is Richard. He’s a cop and came here earlier.”

“Oh, I know a private investigator Richard.”

“Oh, how convenient.” ☁️ thought out loud, half-jokingly. Thinking to himself, Nightwing and Richard being the same person would realistically explain the similarity in their voices and the fact that the hero knew the boy’s name. Dick also had long black hair and fair skin, just as Nightwing did.

Nightwing stopped, causing ☁️ to as well. “What?” He asked in a deeper voice, shocking the boy.

“Wait, don’t change your voice-”

“Stop. I don’t have time for you to try and guess who I am- that’s confidential.” He paused. “If Richard is still here, it wouldn’t make sense for us to be the same person anyway.”

☁️ didn’t expect Nightwing’s tone to become so harsh- and it was intimidating to say the least. The hero didn’t know that Dick had already left the vicinity, but ☁️ didn’t dare argue.

“Oh, sorry.”

The two continued down the hallway, reaching the door after another minute of cricket chirps. The glass door in front of them transitioned from a dark purple to flashes of red and blue- the sound of sirens now filling the awkward silence. ☁️ took hold of the knob and opened the door, watching as police cars, ambulances, and a large black van approached the building. The henchmen’s vans were nowhere in sight. Holding onto Nightwing as the two passed through the door, ☁️ watched as a man with a beard came running from out of one of the flashing cars.

“Everything okay?” He asked, looking Nightwing up and down.

“Yeah. Scarecrow is locked in a room inside, we have a few people who are recovering from a toxin, and then we have a lot of henchmen tied up all over the place. No casualties.”

“Since when does Scarecrow have henchmen?” The cop asked.

“We’ll talk about that later.” Nightwing whispered, him then turning to ☁️. “☁️, can you lead Commissioner Gordan and the officers to Red Hood and Robin? I’m gonna get this bullet outta my leg.”

“Bats isn’t here?”

“No. Should’ve been though. It was worse than I thought it’d be.”

Commissioner Gordan nodded and motioned for his team to follow him. ☁️ grabbed the flashlight from out of his pocket and lit the dark hallway up for the officers. Leading them through the room full of henchmen and broken objects, he proceeded into the wide hallway.

“What is this? Are those horse stalls?”

“Maybe at one point they were.” ☁️ responded, catching Red Hood and Robin’s attention. The two walked over to the police as ☁️ slipped away from the officers, once again sitting next to Alessio. The boy handed ☁️’s phone back, sighing.

“How’d it go?”

“He’s real mad, but relieved.”

☁️ nodded.

“I feel like shit.” Alessio groaned, knocking his head against the wood behind him.

“There’re ambulances outside. You should probably get checked at the hospital.”

“Yeah, I’ll go.” Alessio stood up, following ☁️’s action. As the two began back toward the other room, Commissioner Gordan stopped them.

“☁️, right? Do you have the vial samples with you?”

“Oh, yeah.” ☁️ nodded, handing him the few vials that he had stuffed into his pocket.

“Thanks.”

☁️ watched as the commissioner handed the vials to another officer, who placed them softly inside of a plastic bag. Alessio tugged at his arm, the two of them then continuing past arrests being made and investigators searching the area.

Eventually, the two were outside and standing in front of an EMT. ☁️ watched as Alessio hopped onto a stretcher and was then lifted into the ambulance. To his left, ☁️ noticed Nightwing sitting on the edge of an ambulance with a bandage around his calf. He walked over to him, the hero noticing and giving the boy his full attention.

“You alright?” ☁️ asked, sitting beside him.

“Better. Does Falcone know the boy’s alright?” The vigilante responded, his voice resonant.

“Yes, Alessio spoke to him.”

“Good. I don’t need his father getting involved.”

Silence filled the air for a few seconds.

“So.. what now?” ☁️ asked, yawning.

“Well, it’s just about 2am. You should go home. I’ll stay until everyone leaves. Red Hood and Robin will probably leave after Scarecrow leaves for Arkham.”

“All of my stuff is.. somewhere other than my dorm.”

“Ah, shit… Okay, I’ll have Red Hood take you back, then. Do you mind staying another night at the manor?”

“How’d you know I was staying there?”

“Oh.. Hood told me that he picked you up from Wayne Manor. Do you like it there?”

“Yes, it’s very nice inside. The Waynes are very nice as well.”

“I’ve met them a few times. Which is your favorite?”

“I’ve only met Richard and Jason.”

“You know he goes by Dick, right?”

“Oh, yeah. Dick. I like him a lot.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, he’s cute. But what’s it to you?” ☁️ asked, smiling.

“Just a little jealous. I’ll have to let him know you said that when I see him next.”

“Please do.”

———

“Can I have the square and communicator back?” Red Hood held his hand out as soon as ☁️ hopped off of the bike.

“Oh yeah, I didn’t use it.” ☁️ stated, grabbing it from out of his pocket and placing it into the man’s gloves. He forgot that he was still wearing the earpiece, quickly placing it into the palm of his hand as well.

“That’s alright. Thanks for your help tonight.” Red Hood said, kicking his stand up.

“I don’t think I did much, but I should thank you, too. Be safe.”

“You too.” Red Hood said before lifting his legs and speeding off, leaving ☁️ to stand alone. ☁️ turned around to look at the manor’s long gate doors, wondering how he could possibly get back inside. Just then, the gates opened, somewhere scaring ☁️. He ran past the tall bushes and across the driveway to the manor‘s stairs. Upon walking up the steps, the mansion’s front doors opened. A tall man in a black and white suit stood in the doorframe, watching as ☁️ timidly approached him.

“☁️, correct?”

“Yes, hello.” He responded stopping as he got to the top of the stairs. He stood a few feet away from the man, who he oddly seemed to recognize.

“I don’t believe we’ve met. Please, come in.” The man said, holding the door open for ☁️.

As soon as the door closed behind him, ☁️ turned around, partially waiting for an introduction despite realizing who he was.

“My name is Bruce Wayne.” Bruce held his hand out to ☁️, who tried his best not to be awkward whilst shaking it. “So, you’ll be staying another few days at the manor?”

“I was hoping to go back to my dorm tomorrow.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I just got a call from the police commissioner- he thinks it would be a good idea for you to stay another two weeks. Or at least until this case comes to an end.”

☁️ nodded his head in understanding.

“Don’t worry. We’ll do our best to make the manor as comfortable as possible.”

“Thank you Mr. Wayne. It’s a pleasure.”

Bruce nodded.

“If there’s anything you need, just come to Alfred, one of the boys, or myself.”

“Speaking of, could you tell me if Dick ever made it home?”

Bruce stared expressionlessly at ☁️ for a few seconds before answering.

“Yes, he came home a while ago, but recently left again to help investigate.” He paused. “Also, I don’t think it’s safe for you to get involved in dangerous cases as you did tonight. You’re here for protection- and while I, of course, cannot control you or your actions, I hope you take my words seriously.”

“I definitely do. I apologize for-“

“No need. Your courage is admirable but your safety is our priority.” Bruce said calmly, taking a few steps forward and turning his head. “Have a goodnight.”

“You as well.”

——

As ☁️ climbed into bed, he felt a vibration erupt from his pajama pant’s pocket. Pulling out his phone, he glanced over a response from Dick.

‘ Sorry, things didn’t go as I expected.

But I got to talk to that vigilante.

Nightwing or smth like that.

He told me what u said lol. I’ll see you tomorrow. Sleep well :) ‘

☁️ rolled his eyes and placed his phone on the nightstand, him then digging into the covers beneath him. After closing his eyes, it didn’t take long for him to fall asleep.

—

BONUS:

Scarecrow stood opposite to ☁️ across a cemetery, the night sky hidden behind a stormy overcast. A feeling of dread and despair washed over the boy, forming a mold over his legs that prevented them from moving. He watched in horror as Scarecrow grew larger and larger from across the yard, eventually surpassing the height of surrounding trees.

As the villain took a step toward ☁️, the ground shook, breaking the immobility of the boy’s body. He shuffled out of the cemetery gates, where the shadow of Scarecrow overcame his own. He turned around to see the villain experiencing a state of immobility instead, Nightwing now perched on the metal gate’s archway. Lightning cracked behind Scarecrow as Nightwing and ☁️ seemingly made eye contact, with his face covered in shadow but his eye still glowing white. A figure appeared under him- he was tall and muscular, but he too was covered in shadow. ☁️ could sense Grayson’s presence, but couldn’t see his face. He approached the man despite the three of them watching him.

As he stood a foot away from Dick, he still couldn’t see his face. Lightning struck the ground behind ☁️, not illuminating what should’ve been Dick’s eyes, but rather a Nightwing mask. He held out a hand to touch the man, but retracted it upon realizing that Scarecrow had disappeared from behind him. He turned around to see the villain’s foot about to come crashing down on him, but was more in shock when he felt Dick dig his nails deep into his arms from behind.

☁️ awoke from his slumber, practically jumping out of the little spoon position that Grayson held him in. The boy began breathing heavily, calming down as he felt the man behind him wrap an arm around his waist and pull him close.

“Bad dream?” Dick whispered, nuzzling the boy’s neck.

“I think so.” ☁️ hazily responded, running a few fingers over his red arms.

“What about?”

“Scarecrow and you. And Nightwing.”

“You can’t have both me and Nightwing. Can’t tell him you’re dreaming about him or he might get the wrong idea.”

“Well, in the dream you ended up digging your nails into my skin. That scared me more than Scarecrow or Nightwing did.”

“Aw, I’m sorry. I would never hurt you.”

“I know. I didn’t mean to wake you up, though. You can go back to sleep.”

“I just got home 20 minutes ago, actually. I didn’t sleep yet.”

“What time is it??”

“Quarter to 4.”

☁️ rubbed Dicks hand, slowly falling back asleep.

“Get some rest.. goodnight.”

“Goodnight, cutie.” Dick whispered, closing his eyes as well.

a/n: this chapter lacked ik it was boring ik ik, just trust the process- there’s more dick x reader interactions in the next chapter !! i just needed to make this part dramatic but now we’re onto the cute stuff :))) i also feel like it was poorly written- i got bored and didn’t bother spicing it up so that i could work on chapter 3. hope u enjoyed anyway!!

likes, comments, & reblogs r appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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