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#x deaf reader
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the baby
♥ summary: almost loosely based off of this by @ukor02. I made Alastor a main character and her main bestie because of course I did. This is really just a small little writing thing I did at 4am. ♥ relationship: no direct romance really, just some cute stuff between Lucifer and reader. ♥ word count: 1.6 ♥ notes: no childbirth mentioning and this is written like just as summaries of the situation tbh. almost like a bullet point format without the bullet points
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You wanted to give your baby a chance to get into Heaven, even if it meant they'd leave without you. Hell is no place for a child. Both you and Charlie knew that.
.
"What a pleasant surprise," you sign to Alastor when you see that damn smiling demon right outside your hotel room.
He laughs; aw, you're describing his arrival as pleasant. Did he make a good impression on you when you saw him last when he introduced himself in person in Pride Sign Language? You never seemed to have paid any mind to him, giving one motion signs as responses whenever he tried starting a conversation. But even when you interacted with him like that, he couldn't help but wonder why you always looked at him with your sweet, shy gaze. It's not on purpose, which is the worst part.
Pleasant, you called it a pleasant surprise.
"It's good to see you too, my dear!" He signs, bowing a bit and pushing past you into your room. "What have you been up to?"
What an obnoxious question.
You close the door, squeezing the doorknob tightly. This is going to be a long evening. When you turn back to Alastor, he's in your living room examining the decor, your random art pieces taped to the walls and organized together, though not concisely.
He waves his hands. "I love what you've done with the place."
"I've been bored." You sign with a slight nod to yourself. It's awfully isolating, which is obvious. Still, it has never hit you as hard as it does now as you watch another person walk through your chambers.
"I'm glad I can be in your company then." His smile widens, and the static he emits gets heavier. His ear twitched a bit, which you noticed but tried not to directly look at. Was it a good or bad thing?
"But it's often relieving to be alone," you start and look him up and down.
"You're quite used to being alone, aren't you?"
Your lips tighten, your hands stiff, and you are unable to finish your sentence. Absentmindedly, you rest them on your plump, pregnant belly. Alastor does his best not to let his eyes draw down to analyze it. Still, his head tilts, even just a little. He hates looking at your hands when you touch your stomach. Did his mother hold her belly like that when he was inside of hers?
"Don't you have others to talk to?"
"They're out on their little journeys, you know them."
"Of course."
Alas, he lets his eyes trail down to your stomach. It's not quite full, but it's obvious enough to gain attention from others. Charlie will put her hands on it every day, waiting for the baby to show its presence. She can feel the heartbeat, and so can you and Vaggie, though everybody else can't feel a thing. Alastor refuses to put a hand on your stomach. Life is precious and loud, and the few who were never human understand that differently than the others.
"I wanted to check in on the baby."
A twitch of your eyebrow makes his smile widen.
"Why?"
.
The day before, Lucifer arrived.
You try on your best clothes, laying them flat against your front, looking at your belly in the mirror. For the king, should you try to hide it or show it proudly? He has a daughter, but does that affect his thoughts about Hellborn pregnancies? Gosh, what do you have to worry about? So stupid.
With the other people, your new friends, you stood with your head proud.
He swirled with the dragons and hugged his daughter as if he hadn't seen her for years. What a kind man, unusually kind. His eyes... Those soft, precious eyes. And when they landed on you, your heart almost stopped. He looked at you as if you were an angel. When his lips started to move, the smile you didn't even know you wore faded.
Charlie put her hand on his shoulder and whispered something to him. And there came Alastor, saving the day.
"The idiotic king was just telling you how happy he is for you." With the signs came the grinding of his teeth.
Lucifer approached, his cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment. He addressed Alastor with aggressive hesitance. 'Tell her...' he said.
Charlie smiled excitedly, Nifty kept nodding, and Sir Pentious's eyes started tearing up.
Alastor grimaced. "He's asking if he could feel your stomach."
As always, you've put a thorn in the flow of interactions.
Still, you put on a smile. "Of course."
And there you stood, the King of Hell's hands gently holding you. You could feel the cold of his touch even through the fabric of your shirt. The heartbeat vibrated through both your body and his. The baby was alive and well; you could tell through the pure glee that spread across his face. Beyond your tiny ounce of worry, you knew he'd find hope within your baby.
Alastor watched with a terribly strained smile.
.
"Why?" You ask again when he doesn't answer. "What's with the sudden worry?"
"Worry? No, no." Alastor waves you off. "More like..."
You watch with interest as he trails off, a vulnerability you love.
He squints his eyes and clenches his fists, but only for a moment. His lack of vocabulary kills him. "...Intrigue."
You crack a smirk. "Are you finally gonna feel my stomach?"
Another pause. Alastor considers it, but all he can imagine is his claws accidentally drawing blood.
"No."
"That's okay." Again, your hands rest on your stomach.
.
Alastor has been watching it grow, but so has Lucifer. Charlie's father scarcely visits, and you've convinced yourself it's to see you. Every time he enters the hotel, he asks how you are. He tries to lift his hands to sign but finds no words forming. A language was created in his world, and he has yet to learn how to learn it.
Whenever he presses his hands against your belly, he can feel the liveliness of the soul forming inside you, and he can feel your appreciation at his care.
Begrudgingly, he always has to ask Alastor for advice on communicating with you. Alastor always has a cocky smirk when he teaches.
Charlie has to ask Alastor for help, too, but more willingly. Alastor raises his chin and squares shoulders when people ask him for help. Charlie went to him for help on a conversation you knew she was going to start with you:
"You're not going to stay here for the battle."
"I know." There was no argument on your behalf. Charlie's cheeks still went pink.
"But I have to figure out where it's safest for you. Alastor told me Cannibal Town, but uhh... Maybe not."
"They'll all be here anyway. Maybe they'll distract the angels from going over there."
Her bright eyes widen a bit. "Do you think so?"
"I can stay over there, even if they try to eat me." They won't, and even if they try, they know Alastor would end their lives, don't they?
She fiddles with her fingers before lifting them up again. "I suppose..."
She's so quickly convinced it's cute. You're right, though, of course. Cannibal Town might be the safest place, specifically under the hands of Rosie, who Alastor had previously told you would be more than willing to help you. You can imagine her smile at seeing your belly, twice the size as when Alastor first told you about her. Unbeknownst to Charlie, he's been planning this for a while.
Your stress for their safety irks you more than you expected.
You place a hand on Charlie's, lifting your other one. "I'll be okay."
Before you left for Cannibal Town, you met Lucifer once again, a more loving side of him. He cradled your head and held the back of your neck as he did. His cold body felt like warmth to you. He whispered things to you; you could only tell from how his breath constantly brushed against your ear in sing-songy waves. Was he singing to you? A lullaby? He pulled away and finally signed to you. "You're going to be a great mom."
A moment before, Alastor finally put his hands on your belly. His hands were warm. Like Lucifer, he was whispering to himself, holding silent words from you. In another life, you'd imagine they were prayers. At that moment, only an instinct, you put your hands on his, and he allowed it.
The stress of their safety worsened when they were left alone in Cannibal Town without a word of winning or losing.
The winning of Hell was all you wanted to focus on when you noticed the contractions getting worse, spaced out in purposeful ways. Oh goodness, you found yourself thinking, oh my God.
What if Lucifer dies on the same day your child is born?
But after the battle, he was right there to cradle the baby in his arms, his heavenly grasp relaxing the tiny baby. The rest of the group sat in your room, Sir Pentious absent, tears in their eyes at both the birth and the death.
Beyond Lucifer's cradling, Husk was the only one who touched your child that day. He placed his furry paw against the baby, feeling the body heat that they admitted. Life could be beautiful, he decided.
Vaggie's sense of revenge deepened. She sacrificed Heaven to save a child, and now she's even more than willing to kill her sisters to save yours.
While Charlie stares at your baby with tears, Alastor smiles warmly at you. He knew you could do it: birth something beautiful and worth protecting.
Your eyes are locked on Lucifer. He's an amazing, supportive dad to Charlie, and your heart begins to swell. Your heartbeat increases, and a blush weakly forms on your already flushed face. His rough hands hold a forgiving softness. He's beautiful.
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mandomaterial · 9 months
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Could you maybe write something about miguel and a deaf girlfriend or wife?
Ofc bby, personally its one of my favorite things to read because the fics are truly something else! I hope i did your request justice. :3 to be honest i don’t quite love how it turned out but i hope that’s just the little perfectionist in me. I really do hope you like it!
Btw i didn’t proof read any of this- feel free to tell me if they’re any typos! Masterlist
Miguel with a deaf reader
It all started when Miguel bumped into you at the library, you were struggling to reach a book from the top shelf and Miguel being the kind man he was, walked over, reached over your head and brought it down for you. All this had given you a terrible scare, you hadn’t seen him coming and well, you couldn’t hear him. So Miguel got quite concerned when he saw your panic stricken face “Are you all right?” He asked, his eyebrows clenching together. Fortunately you learned how to read lips, so you could quite easily decipher what he said and maybe you stared a little too long at his plush, full lips, you snapped out of it and nodded a little, cheeks all heated up and red.
To be honest Miguel thought you were pretty cute from the start, that’s why he actually came over, he thought that getting a book down for you would be a good conversation started and he didn’t mean to scare you. You hadn’t said anything to him yet, so he tried again “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to spook you.” With a soft smile on his lips, still holding onto your book. You didn’t react at first and you didn’t seem to be making eye contact, instead your gaze was set a bit lower, maybe that should have been his first clue that something was out of the normal here, but no. After a moment you stufend a little and started rummaging through your bag, looking for something, it didn’t take you long and Miguel was surprised to see that you pulled out a pen and a little notebook. You didn’t waste a second and started scribbling something and then turning the pages for them to face him.
«Hi, I’m deaf so i can’t really talk to you, I’m sorry » Miguel eyes quickly scanned the words and as soon as he was done, his big brown eyes snapped up to you, seeing the sorry look on your face. It was like you were sad that you couldn’t talk to him. You were sure that he’d just walk away after this, maybe if you could talk properly you could’ve had a chance with him. But against all odds, Miguel continued “Don’t apologize, that’s oka-“ he didn’t finish his sentence, caught in thought with his eyebrows scrunched. Could you understand what he was saying? And as if you’d read his mind, you started scribbling again. Miguel patiently waited until you turned it over again.
«I learned how to lip read pretty well, just don’t talk too quickly and everything’s okay» you smiled, happy that he was willing to continue. In all honesty you were so exited that this stranger wanted to talk! And he was so handsome too! You bit your lip a little and waited for him to finish reading. Miguels eyebrows raised a little, surprised that it would be this easy to communicate with you, maybe he still had a chance to score your number.
“Oh is that so? That’s pretty cool, do you also speak sign?” He questioned, making sure to not mumble, so that you’d understand easily. It looked like your eyes lit up, with little sparkles shining in them as you wrote on your little notebook. Miguel thought that you were really adorable and he couldn’t help but smile as you started writing excitedly. You handed the note book to him and his eyes shifted to the wording, gladly reading it.
«Yes, I speak sign! You you know any signs? It’s okay if you don’t. :) »
Miguel brought his hand up to his chin, thinking about his time at university, didn’t he take a sign course once? He was deep in thought until his eyes fell on you, you were standing there patiently waiting for him, big sparkly eyes and a big smile on your lips, you looked like a baby deer, just like a fawn. It was too adorable for him and he had to look away a little so that you wouldn’t notice the little bit of blush staining his cheeks. Your head flopped to the side and you didn’t understand, Miguel noticed and played it off as him fixing his already perfectly styled hair, by running his fingers through it. He forced himself to face you again and said
“Um, I took a course at Uni, but i don’t remember much.” He scanned his brain for any signs he still knew and a few popped up “umm, i think this was ‘thank you’?” He signed it, slowly, but correct “And this one’s ‘Hello’ “he signed again, this one was mostly correct as well! You’re ere so exited! You started applauding him just a tiny bit, your palms touching and just your fingers clapping, a gigantic smile on your face that reached past your eyes. Miguel almost couldn’t believe his eyes, how were you so fucking cute? His heart was pounding in his chest, unable to calm down and he was sure his pupils were heart shaped already. He just had to keep talking to you. So he did.
“Um, so what’s your name? My- My name’s Miguel. Miguel O’hara.” You nodded to show that you understood and started writing your name on the paper. You showed it to him and he paused for a second, he looked down to you again and realized that your name really suited you. You cracked a toothy smile that you covered a bit with your hand and just then Miguel realized that he’d said that aloud. His face flopped down embarrassed and he chuckled a bit but started looking at you again soon after “I said that aloud, didn’t I?” he smiled jokingly, you nodded vigorously and giggled a little. It was quiet but Miguel had heard and he could stop his smile from growing. He thought that it was no or never so he put on his brave face, shuffled around a little but made sure to keep his mouth where you could see it and asked confidently:
“I think you’re pretty cute. Could I maybe take you out sometime? Maybe dinner or something?” Oh, he hoped that you would say yes and that he could take you out, he already started thinking about places to go, his mind starting to spiral a little, thinking of you. Your face seemed confused, had you understood that wrong? Did he really want to take you out on a date? This hunk of a man, that could easily pick you up with a single hand? As if. It all feels like a cruel joke, maybe you do need to practice lip reading more. You didn’t quite know what else he could have said, so with a shaky hand you started writing down what you thought he said, preparing yourself for rejection or a misunderstanding.
It’s not like you haven’t been on dates before, actually you’ve been on quite a few, but it never lasted, all the guys thought it would be too hard to communicate and gave up before even trying. It broke your heart every time and you started hating your disability more and more every time it happened. So you decided to get off the dating apps and give meeting someone a rest. Once you finished moving your pen, you hesitantly flipped the notebook to show Miguel.
«You want to take me out? Like on a date?» Vulnerability was spread over your eyes as you feared his answer, expecting him to correct you or something similar, but to your surprise he just nodded, albeit a little concerned about the worried look on your face. He opened his mouth to say something “Do you not want to go out with me? That’s totally fine too, you probably have a boyfriend…” his mood sunk and he felt kinda silly for assuming.
But he couldn’t be more wrong, your mood had seemingly done a 180 and was completely flipped, you wanted to tell Miguel that you’d love to go out with him and that you didn’t have a boyfriend, but he wasn’t looking at you. So you did something a bit out of your comfort zone, you took hold of one of his hands to get his attention, before he even fully started looking towards you again, you began nodding like crazy, hoping to get the message across and bring it across you did, with a smile on his face he confirmed your answer and you just continued nodding with a huge grin.
The two of you exchanged phone numbers and that’s the story of how you met your now husband.
He was still ever so charming as the two of you sat on the couch in your living room, just enjoying each other’s company. You were leaning against his chest, curled up like a cat, just daydreaming about your lovely, handsome husband, until said person tapped your shoulder to shift your attention to him.
« What are you dreaming about, mi sol?» he signed, his finger moving quickly with precision, it had taken him a couple years to fully grasp the language but now he spoke it just as well as you! It was actually pretty cute how he started learning, each time the two of you met up for a date, he always showed off the new signs he learned in simple conversations and every time, you applauded him and gave him a little kiss as a reward. To him that was like the deal of a century, a kiss from his beautiful girlfriend for just a few new signs?m oh yea. He’d take that any day. It even gave him more motivation to study!
You just smiled and snuggled closer, before moving your fingers to say: « Oh nothing, just how we met and how cute you were » you snickered a little, knowing that being called cute would rile him up a bit. And right you were.
« Hey, hey, it wasn’t me that was cute, you were and you still are!» suddenly he grabbed you and almost crushed you in a bear hug, you loved his hugs, they were so warm and cosy, no need for any type of communication, his body telling you everything that you needed to know. This was truly a moment of bliss, Miguel wrapped his fingers around your own and brought them up to his plush lips, kissing your slender ring finger, so happy that the two of you were married. He’d stay with his Mrs. O’hara forever and ever!
Bonus headcanons
- he’s so protective of you, especially if you’re out in the city, he can only imagine how much more dangerous it could be walking around without being able to hear. What if you were crossing the street and didn’t notice a speeding car because you couldn’t hear the honking, what if you got splashed with water from the puddles when another car drives past, or that those stupid cyclists will nock you over, safe to say he worries a lot, so he absolutely always walks on the side wich faces the road, he never lets you get too close to the adage and he’ll always, always hold your hand.
- if someone ever gives you trouble or starts yelling at you because you don’t understand, (mostly Karens) hell put on his scary face and ask if they have a problem with his wife, while staring them down, not once has this ever backfired and he’s proud that he can scare anyone off that’s making you uncomfortable.
- If the two of you are out and about in the city he’ll always interpret anything that happening, oh there’s a crowd over there? They’re watching a performer. Oh, you wanna watch them too? Hell sign whatever they’re doing at the speed of light. Oh, someone’s yelling and there’s drama? If you’re interested he’ll tell you what they’re yelling about. Oh, there’s a cute puppy you wanna pet? Of course he’ll ask for you. And you’re ever so thankful, each and every night, you shower him in kisses and hugs as a thank you. And Miguel? He’s loving every second.
- sure there were a bunch of bumps and hitches in your relationship, lots of miscommunications and sure, it was difficult but he never gave up, he believed that you were the one for him and he’d do anything for you and of course you’d do anything for him as well, the two of you were basically made for each other and he didn’t mind your disability one bit, in fact, it just made you even more special.
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mercedesvince · 10 months
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Can you do Scott pilgrim x male reader that mainly uses ASL to communicate <33
Scott Pilgrim x M. Deaf Reader
“Please”
The italicized text is ASL
You felt your pen glide across the texture of the paper. Looking back up at your computer screen you continued copying down your notes. Laying your pen back down, you returned your hands to your key board and continued typing on the google doc.
Even though growing up you had a tough time in school with your condition, you still wanted to peruse a degree in [subject of your choice]. Your relationship with the public school system was never the best. Having to learn to translate ASL to written english never proved easy, on top of that your school required you to take a foreign language class. It was a lot, but you managed, and now you’re set on earning your degree.
Lost in your thoughts as you worked on your notes, you missed the door to your shared apartment opening. You also happened to miss your boyfriend slowly creeping up behind you. Sitting at your desk, your back completely turned to entrance, you were scared out of your mind when you felt a sudden grab on your shoulders. Your body jolted up, turning around in an instant only to come face to face with Scott. You let out a sigh of relief, before slightly slapping his shoulder. “You scared me”, you signed to him. Scott looked at you for a moment, before slowly raising his hand, “Please”. You looked at him confused for a second, then you realized he meant to say ‘i’m sorry’. You reached out and grabbed his hand, a gesture that had becomes common, and showed him the correct movement. “Ohhh” he said. “That one was please wasn’t it?” you nodded at Scott smiling. You weren’t the best at reading lips, but you were probably better than the average person.
Still, it’s like people expect you to be some type of god skilled level lip reader, but fortunately for you, you never had that problem with Scott. That was one of the main reasons you fell for the guy in the first place, as much of a himbo as he can be, he took time to learn some ASL for you, he didn’t expect you to immediately be able to understand everything he said by reading his lips, and he treated you like just as much of a person as everyone else.
Scott looked over at the laptop, “What are you working on?”. You glanced back at your screen letting out a tired sigh, “Just a paper that’s due at the end of the week”. Scott nodded, a few seconds passed before Scott grabbed your hands, pulling you up from your chair. He pulled you towards the door, grabbing your coat off the small hangers you guys had and passing it to you. You raised an eyebrow at him, he turned to face you. “You said your papers due at the end of the week,” he smiled at you before continuing. “I have show tonight, but maybe we could hang out and spend time together before it,” he signed. “Plus, you need a break”.
Shaking your head at Scott, you put on your coat “Alright Scott, let’s go”. He seemed to gleam with joy at your agreement. Basically hauling you out of the apartment.
——————————————————————
You both looked at the comic variety in front of you. Scott had a few CDs in his hand, as he had taken you to your local record and comic store. You had been looking at the comic section for a while now, trying to make a decision on what would be your next read. Scott had appeared by your side, joining you in your search for a good comic. He raised his hand and pointed at one, “This one’s really good, when I lived with Wallace, I stole from his collection”. Letting out a light laugh, you looked back up in the shelf, he was pointing to a ‘Doom Patrol’ one. You reached out and picked it off the shelf, tuning it around to read the summary. You turned your gaze at Scoot once again, you nodded and saw his face light up in a smile.
You could never get enough of this man, his contagious smile, his cute eyes, his hair, everything. You grabbed his hand and the both of you made your way up to the cash register to check out. “That will be $55.76,” the guy at the register said, he looked like some edgy teen who didn’t wanna be there. He was probably your least favourite employee, he wasn’t mean or anything, but the girl who always smiled at you guys that also worked there was just better. You had pulled out your wallet, about to pay, but you missed the number the guy had said. He looked at you expectantly. Hoping he would get the hint to repeat himself, you stared at at him. In a few seconds, he gave you weird look.
Before you could even do anything else, Scott smacked the money on the counter. The kid looked taken aback a bit, before picking it up. Handing him his change and the bag with your things in it, you guys made your way to the exit. Outside the shop you stopped walking. “You didn’t have to do that”. Scott looked at you, his eyes slightly widening before his expression fell back into a smile. “I know, but I was planning on paying anyway”. Again with that contagious smile, you couldn’t help as one slowly grew on your face. “Thanks” you told him. “No problem [nick name]”. You both turned and began walking back toward your home, in hopes of burning some time while you waited for Scott’s showtime to pull around. Hand in hand, you leaned your head against Scott. He took a glance at you, before letting out a quiet “I love you [name],” under his breath.
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asena-graywolf · 1 year
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Click here for Part I
Click here for Part II
Italic texts mean “sign language” dialogs and “texting”
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Unfaithful III
“Are you really sure about that? Do you want her to be our manager just because you love her?" ' Kenma asked, not taking his eyes off the screen he was playing on.
“So what? Ultimately she will help us. Almost every school volleyball team has a manager. Would it be bad if it was us too?"
“So what does y/n say to this?”
“She said she would think about it. If she responds in the affirmative, I will discuss this with Nekomata coach. In fact, I'd better talk in advance. At least until y/n announces her decision”
Kenma answered Kuro with a sigh. He didn't want to upset Kuro by saying a negative word, but some truths needed to be spoken.
"I'm sorry Kuro…can a really deaf girl be able to manage us?"
He tried to take a step back, feeling that Kuro was going to be pissed off.
“Don't get me wrong…Y/N is such a cute girl. I would like him to be our manager in the first place. But the girl's situation is clear, this job will be a burden to her. To you too…"
Kuro stood up and clenched his fists to suppress his anger.
“Y/n is not a burden, Kenma. If she accepts, she will be our manager, whether you want it or not. I am going. I have work to do”
Although Kenma wanted Kuro to stay a little longer, Kuro was determined to go.
“I wish you could sit a little longer”
"Another time"
Kenma pursed his lips and then let him go
“Well…see you”
Kuro left Kenma's house without saying a word. He began to walk the streets in the dusk. You had it in your mind. He wanted to see you. He checked the time on his phone. It wasn't too late. Maybe he could see you for five minutes
Just texted you
Are you available?
You were sitting in your room at the time, practicing playing the guitar. You were humming as well. Since the phone was in front of you, you could see the message falling on your screen.
Yes. Did something happen?
Got a reply from Kuro right away
Can I see you? Only five minutes.
Sure. Of course
Ok. I'll be in front of your house soon. Don't take your eyes off the phone. You come down when I call you
I am waiting
You put the phone in front of you because you couldn't hear. You put your guitar aside and waited without taking your eyes off the phone.
The call you've been waiting for has finally arrived. You picked up the phone and spoke aloud to Kuro a second time
You said "I'll be come down" and hung up
You went to the window. You saw Kuro downstairs. You went straight down and within seconds you were in front of the house. You ran towards Kuro.
Your hands are clasped together.
"What happened?" you asked out loud
Kuro let go of your hands and began to express himself
What do you think about being our manager? Will you be?
I haven't thought about it yet. But to tell the truth, I think I'll impose to you and your team.
You flinched when Kuro grabbed your shoulders for a moment. To tell the truth, you were a little scared
He then dropped his shoulders and turned to sign language again.
You are not a burden. I told you. I am your ear. I will hear everything you can't hear. Trust me y/n-chan. I’m your boyfriend. I will not let anyone hurt you. What are you saying? You'll be our manager, won't you?
Even though you weren't very keen on this job, you thought it wouldn't hurt to try.
Alright. I'd be happy to see you more if I could see you more and if watching the training wouldn't distract you, and if I could also help the team.
The corners of Kuro's lips curved upwards.
You make me so happy right now y/n-chan. Tomorrow I'll introduce you to our coach. I'm sure he will love you very much
I hope. So…why did you want to see me?
I’m your boyfriend. Of course I would like to see you. I miss you a lot. See you soon, even if it's tomorrow
I look forward to seeing you every day, my handsome captain
Don't spoil me by saying that, I'll get on top of you later
You both laughed at Kuro's joke. Then he took you in his arms. He pressed his head to his chest. He dug his nose into the top of his head and inhaled the scent of her hair.
Before saying goodbye to you for the last time, he kissed your nose, which was red from the cool air.
Come on, get into home. You gonna catch cold.
You told him I love you in sign language. He responded in the same way. You kissed each other before you walked in
The next day, Kuro called you to practice. In the last lesson, you talked to your music teacher and arranged the day for your concert with Kuro. You wanted to convey this to your boyfriend right away.
As soon as the two of you met, you got straight to the point.
Do you know Kuro? I talked to the music teacher. He set the day for our concert. About 1 month later. We have to rehearse a lot. We should add other songs to our repertoire. I trust you with the song selection.
Y/N, that's great news! Let's start right from tomorrow. I am sure we will do a good job. We're going to get a lot of applause. Also, I told coach Nekomata about you. He also knew sign language. You won't have any difficulty. Maybe it's hard to communicate with the team at first, but you'll get used to it.
Really? I am very pleased. I can't wait to meet your coach.
So come with me. Coach must have arrived. I'm sure he can't wait to meet you too
You nodded ok and entered the hall with Kuro. Kuro introduced you to Nekomata coach
“Hello coach! I've told you about him before. This y/n l/n will be our new manager starting today.”
The lovely old man bowed and greeted you warmly.
Welcome y/n-san. I hope you can be a good manager. I guarantee that I can help you
I'd be honored to manage the team, coach. Thank you for accepting me even though I am deaf.
This is not an obstacle. I never see this as an obstacle. You shouldn't see either
Thanks coach.
I will teach you what to do.
After this dialogue between you and sign language, Nekoma volleyball team started training. Before practice, coach Nekomata warned the team to be careful with you
You took into account everything your Nekomata coach showed you, and you took your managerial job very seriously from day one.
But there was an unexpected controversy in practice.
“Is this deaf girl our manager now? Fortunately, the coach knew sign language. But still, don't say you didn't say it will cause us a lot of trouble,” Yamamoto said tactlessly.
Yaku poked Yamamoto's arm
“Yamamoto! Zip it! The girl is helping us, what more do you want? Tell me what is the difference between a deaf manager and a normal manager, except that he can't hear. We're going to give him some special treatment just because he didn't hear it."
“Special treatment for a deaf manager? You really messed up! Are we going to get special treatment because she's a princess of the deaf?"
The fact that Yamamoto didn't back down had now worn Kuro's patience. He went and grabbed Yamamoto's collar and started yelling at him.
“What do you have to do with this girl! Enough Yamamoto! You are exceeding your limits!”
“We had to give your deaf princess special treatment! Yaku-san says so! Take this girl away from here, she will always be a hindrance to us”
Yamamoto was really out of line, and Kuro couldn't contain himself this time either. Yamamoto was punched in the face. The size of the fight has reached the physical dimension. Everyone in the hall tried to come between them to separate Kuro and Yamamoto.
At that moment, you were busy writing down what you needed to write in the notebook in front of you. The movement in the hall caught your attention, and when you looked up, you saw that there was a terrible mess. Kuro was still trying to kick and slap Yamamoto. They were obviously shouting, but all you heard was silence
You could more or less guess the reason for the fight, but you still wanted to ask Kuro after practice.
You asked him while walking home with Kuro at the end of practice. Kuro had been punched in the face too and was icing on his face.
Was that fight because of me? Is that why you beat Yamamoto?
Kuro tried to lie so as not to upset you and passed you off
No. It is not about you. Team cliché, for common reasons
This answer didn't satisfy you and you knew full well that he’s lying
Don't lie, Kuro, I know the real reason. Yamamoto just couldn't get used to me. I guess she didn't like me. I knew it would be like this. I wish you never got me involved in the manager job.
How many times has y/n-chan talked about this before? Please don't repeat the same sentences anymore. Yamamoto is tactless. Today, he has already received the answer for exceeding the limit. I don't and I won't let anyone talk to you.
You smiled at him and took the ice he was holding on his cheek and let it go. You stood on tiptoe and kissed the reddened spot where he had just put ice
This time, Kuro's cheeks were completely red.
Is the pain gone now?
Kuro answered that question with a quick kiss on the lips. One hand caressed his cheek
It was your first kiss and he found you when you least expected it. You were shocked, but then you got used to the kiss. Closing your eyes, you surrendered yourself to Kuro's loving kiss.
Your hands tangled in his raven-black locks of hair and you started stroking his head.
Kuro's soft lips took you away from you. Your heartbeat was getting too fast, and the increased blood pressure was evident by the reddening of your face.
You were out of breath when you parted your lips. Kuro couldn't take her pace, kissed her on the forehead and nose
I love you so much y/n. I want to be with you always. Don't leave me too, will you? Promise me
I promise Kuro. I will never leave you
You hugged his chest tightly. Kuro's strong arms wrapped tightly around your body. Feeling his warmth and scent, she was truly at peace.
Come on, let me drop you home my princess
He took her hand and brought the back of her hand to his lips and kissed it.
He escorted you home, kissed you on the forehead as you said goodbye.
You waved to him before entering the house and entered the house
After dinner, telling your family what happened during the day—they were delighted when you told them you were the manager of the Nekoma volleyball team—and after you finished your homework, you picked up your guitar again and started rehearsing the songs you were going to play with Kuro.
It was then that he thought of composing a new composition. First you improvised, then you compose your notes and start playing the song again
You took the audio recording of the piece and sent it to Kuro via Whatsapp. Then you sent this message
A new song came to mind. Shall we sing this at our concert too?
He replied to you shortly.
Okay, baby, I wish you had thought of it sooner. There is 1 month until our concert and it is not possible for me to write lyrics compatible with the song in 1 month.
You read the message and replied
Actually, I wrote this song for you. So let our hearts write the words of this piece. While we are already expressing our love for each other, we will have already written a word for this piece.
Kuro was deeply moved by what he had said. Because now you had a song without words that only you could understand.
——————————————————————————-
It will be continiue in Part 4
I know it’s been a long time. I got round to keen on this fic.
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forbidding-souda · 2 years
Note
Hey, I saw one of your posts "Deaf S/O with characters knowing ASL" maybe could I get something similar but with teaching characters who you think might be willing or want to learn it for their S/O?
Deaf S/O teaching Gundham Tanaka and Kyoko Kirigiri ASL headcanons
I picked the top woman and the top man I think would kill to know ASl.
also I made them hcs bc I was stressing over the speech aspect of it so.
I want mcdonalds so bad rn - update I got mcdonald's let's fucking go.
currently listening: youtube subliminals
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-Mod Souda
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Gundham Tanaka
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❤ He is interested, horribly interested. He already knows the basic command terms in JSL to communicate with his more intelligent animals, but ASL, and for a human, seems like almost a fun little project.
❤ He uses his mouth a lot when he signs and it's just something he picked up from JSL. You love it when he signs to you, his intense eyes sometimes wonder, as he is not used to looking at a person for so long, though he never looks at you like he's too concentrated (he raises his eyebrows when he needs, and he smiles when he needs too).
❤ He is a more teach-me-casually type of person.
❤ To you specifically, he is more calm and he uses his inside voice, so when he signs it portrays that. Sometimes he shows a devilish smile that perfectly portrays his sense of wicked-ness (the one that he tries to give off), and you think it's amusing how sometimes his evil aura can be genuine.
❤ He knows animal signs the best, and not because he picks up on them but because he studies them extra hard. He wants to be able to communicate his heavy appreciation of animals.
❤ He has a lot of his own versions of signing "come over here".
❤ There's something a bit flamboyant about the way he decides to sign his own name - it's as if he practices how to introduce himself.
❤ His radiant smile gives a glow to every word he decides to say, he is so handsome that sometimes it steals your breath away.
❤ He signs some things wrong and he doesn't even notice, he does it so often that sometimes you secondguess yourself - am I doing it wrong?
❤ He went from originally having nothing to say, but the more you sit down with him and teach him, he talks a lot.
❤ It's easy to teach him nouns but once it comes to verbs and especially adjectives he's like woah there.
❤ He doesn't pick up ASL fast, because who would, but he gets the sentence structure and the grammar perfectly, and you're very amazed by that.
.
Kyoko Kirigiri
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❤ She is the most interested as well as one of the most willing. She thinks knowing some sign languages might make her investigations a lot smoother, especially considering it gives her easy accessibility to talking to more hypothetical suspects. The SHSL Detective does a lot of planning for future situations.
❤ She likes it when you sit down in front of her like a teacher and teach her some words. She'd rather learn like that than you tell her random words throughout the day.
❤ She is a note-taker and a flashcard learner.
❤ Her biggest struggle is her straight face. She has to maneuver her eyebrows and lip shape now? MAn.
❤ Tries to figure out how to use big words but she quality realizes really one of the main differences between excellent and good is facial expressions.
❤ She still uses "interesting" a lot.
❤ ^ She even got the raising of eyebrows.
❤ Her levels of communication are a lot more advanced than other people, and even for her consistent solitude she still finds a way to be mildly appealing to talk to when it comes to conversations she wants to be in. And she wants to be in almost every conversation in ASL since it requires the commitment of actually recognizing she knows it.
❤ Plus, it's good practice. Day-to-day conversations slowly become sign-based.
❤ There is also the tinge of secrecy that she likes about ASL. Especially in Japan, not many people know sign language, nevertheless one from another country, so she finds a good sense of pride in knowing it and being able to communicate to you in public.
❤ Hey, if you're ever a part of an investigation (actively) she will have confidence in your presence.
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vanteguccir · 1 month
Text
Baking blind, deaf and mute | Chris Sturniolo
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Chris Sturniolo x reader
Summary: Where Y/N participates in the Baking Blind, Deaf and Mute video, but things don't go as planned.
Warning: Begin of a panic attack, anxiety.
Requested?: Yes, @ecliphttlunar
Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
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"Alright guys, it's been almost a year since the last time we filmed one of these, I think..." Nick began, his body appearing in the camera frame, stopping next to Matt.
"Yeah, and today we have a special guest-" Matt was interrupted by Nick, who swallowed all the rest of his energy drink, stumbling back as he shook his head hard, feeling the burn go down his throat.
"Like she doesn't appear in almost every video." Chris ignored Nick's reaction, momentarily pointing to his girlfriend next to him.
A laugh escaped his throat, followed by a dramatic sound of pain as he received a slap from Y/N as a response, who rolled her eyes at him, crossing her arms and looking at the camera.
"They love me more than they love you guys at this point." She murmured, pointing at the camera with her chin, blowing an air kiss towards it.
"Anyways!" Nick shouted, casting a scolding glance from the corner of his eye at Chris and Y/N, focusing his eyes on the lens. "Today we're going to do the baking blind, deaf and mute challenge, and we have a guest with us, Y/N!" He raised his left hand, pointing it towards the girl momentarily, who smiled big and waved.
"Exactly, and since there will be four of us, instead of three, we will repeat one position. Y/N will be blind with Matt, while I will be mute and Nick will be deaf." Chris explained, wrapping his left arm around his girl's shoulder, pulling her close and massaging her biceps slightly, sealing his lips over her head momentarily.
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"Okay, today we're going to cook a carrot cake with chocolate frosting since it's our guest's favorite." Nick spoke, his voice coming out louder than normal since his ears were covered by the headphones where music was coming out at full volume.
Y/N nodded, resting her hands on the table, unable to see exactly where she was, her eyes already covered by Chris's red bandana.
"Y/N doesn't eat ready cake mixture, so we're going to make it from scratch!" Matt added, his back resting on the counter next to the stove.
His arms were crossed, and his head was turned in the direction he thought the camera was.
"Let's begin!"
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"Can someone preheat the oven, please?" Y/N asked, her head turned to the side where she heard footsteps.
A tired sigh escaped her nose when she received no response. The girl moved slowly, using her raised arms for support, feeling wherever she went.
Sudden hands on her waist made her jump in fright, relief coursing through her veins as she quickly recognized Chris's touch. The boy holds her tightly, guiding her slowly through the kitchen, until they reach the stove.
Chris lightly held her wrist, guiding her hand to the button to turn on the oven, waiting for her to do so before letting go of her hand, moving away slightly.
"What is happening? Are you still here?" Matt's voice cut through the air, his figure doing a 360° turn as he tried to understand where the others were.
"In here, Matt." Y/N replied as she walked back to the table, feeling around until she found the ingredients already separated.
The girl reached for the carrots, feeling them to check if they were peeled. They weren't.
"Chris, can you peel it for me, please?" The girl asked loudly, lifting her chin in the air so her voice could echo better.
Footsteps approached, and soon, the carrots were taken from her hands, the sound of a knife hitting the cutting board filling her ears.
The sound of screams filled the kitchen, Nick singing the songs he was listening to as loud as possible, probably dancing around the space, checking every now and then if the others were making the recipe correctly, despite Y/N and Chris knowing it by heart.
"Nick, can you shut up?" Matt asked loudly, turning in the direction where his brother's voice came from.
Nick noticed Matt trying to talk to him, looking back while furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.
"What?" He screamed.
Y/N, who was blindly measuring the correct amount of oil using a measuring cup, jumped in place in fright by the sudden loud sound. Her hand holding the oil shook slightly from the movement, spilling some of the contents onto her other hand and the table.
Her shoulders slumped, but she just kept going, knowing that there was nothing she could do at that moment other than fulfill her task.
After measuring the oil and flour as correctly as possible, the girl felt the table on her right side in search of the cut carrots, no longer feeling Chris' presence there.
Her hands ran across the wooden surface, grabbing the first thing she found in the belief that it was the vegetables, but instead, it was a knife.
A wince escaped her lips, feeling a sharp burning sensation spread from her right index finger to her hand. She had cut herself.
"Can I have a paper towel?" Y/N asked in a low tone, her voice coming out choppy from the pain she felt. "Hey, somebody, a paper towel. Please?"
No one answered her, Matt and Nick's arguing voices only growing louder and louder.
The girl took a deep breath, wiping her finger on her t-shirt, feeling pain and disgust at the same time at the thought of cleaning a wound on a fabric that wasn't as clean as something specific for hygiene.
Her attention returned to the things in front of herself. Y/N replayed her last steps in her mind, making sure she did everything right.
With that, her hand rescued the fuê that she knew was on her left side and began to mix all the ingredients in the ceramic bowl carefully, despite the pain in her hand.
She felt her senses were more heightened than normal, perhaps because her eyes were covered, which made her hear the different steps of each of the triplets, their voices, and in which direction they were going.
But at that moment, her attention was so focused on the mixture that she forgot to pay attention to the three boys.
"Matt, I'm not listening to anything you're saying!" Nick shouted, his tone full of sarcasm.
"I'm just asking you to stop-"
"Don't touch me, Chris!"
"Nick, stop doing that-"
"Stop talking, I can't hear you-"
The impact came suddenly against Y/N's back, causing her to hit her belly on the corner of the table and, consequently, pushing the mixture forward due to the impact. She was certain that everything had been spilled onto the wooden surface when she heard a loud gasp coming from Matt.
Y/N's lips trembled before the tears even came. She felt her eyes burning behind her bandana while her cheeks and chest ached with anguish.
"Y/N?" Chris's voice came out softly, his hands quickly ripping the bandana from his mouth, approaching his girl, ignoring the guilty looks from Nick and Matt as they both removed their respective bandana and headphones.
Y/N didn't respond, resting her hands on the table and lowering her head, feeling the fabric over her eyes getting damp little by little.
"Baby?" Chris whispered, slowly untying the knot on the bandana behind her head, being careful not to pull out any hair. The last thing he wanted was to cause pain on his girlfriend.
He felt his heart sink at the sight of her eyes closed tightly and her eyelashes damp against her pink cheeks. His own eyes quickly caught her chest rising and falling faster than normal in agitation.
Chris moved closer to her, positioning his hands on both of his girl's hips, lightly squeezing the covered skin in an attempt to ground her.
"Hey, hey, pretty girl, it's okay. Deep breaths, hm?" The brunette whispered close to her ear, casting a quick look behind his shoulder at his brothers, silently asking them to move away. "That's right, just like that. You got it, my love."
Y/N sucked in air through her nose, holding it for a few seconds before releasing it through her mouth.
After repeating the process a few times, she could finally feel her heart calm down and the anguish slowly disappear. Y/N opened her eyes slowly, blinking a few times to remove the remnants of tears.
"There's my pretty girl. Are you with me, baby?" Chris smiled kindly, his eyes shining as he looked at Y/N, waiting for her answer.
"Uhum, I am good. Thank you, baby." Her voice came out still a whisper, but in a healthier tone. "Can we continue? I really want to-"
"Wait, is that blood? Baby, are you hurt?" Chris noticed the reddish tone on her right hand, interrupting her sentence and holding her hand delicately with both of his, analyzing the small cut.
"Yeah, with that knife. It was an accident, but it's not hurting anymore." The girl tried to assure him, stroking his hands with her thumb slowly.
"Can we at least clean it? Before we continue." He asked, his tone full of hope while his eyes run through her face, trying to find any trace of pain.
"Okay." Y/N nodded, whispering with a small smile decorating her face.
The boy guided her to the sink, turning on the tap to cold water and slowly bringing her hand closer to the jet, letting the water hit the injured skin slowly, so that it didn't make her feel any more pain.
A wince escaped Y/N's throat when she felt the contact, suppressing the urge to pull her hand back.
"I know, baby. I know, I'm sorry." Chris whispered, his lips pressed against the side of her head. His free hand made small circles on her back, trying to reflect calm to her.
After a few seconds, Chris finally turned off the tap again, drying his own hand before rescuing a few sheets of paper towels. He wiped Y/N's sensitive skin slowly, wrapping her finger around a clean sheet.
"All done, honey."
"Thank you." She smiled, sealing her lips on his jaw slightly. "Can we bake now?" She asked innocently, looking at Matt and Nick, who were still watching them with guilty eyes.
Chris let out a low chuckle at her comment, waving his brothers closer again.
"Are you good, girl?" Nick asked as he approached Y/N, stroking her left shoulder lightly, his eyebrows furrowed.
"I am good, Nick. I promise." She smiled big at her best friend, hugging him sideways and laying her head on his right shoulder for a few seconds before stepping away again.
"Okay then, let's bake a cake!" Matt smiled at the camera, grabbing the nearest roll of paper towels, ready to clean up the mess before they could start baking again.
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Extra - comments:
"omg I would die on Y/N's place, all this was so overwhelming 😭"
"chris is such a good boyfriend and you can see it in here, the way he helps her at the beginning? bf goals 😫😫😫"
"chris and Y/N are so beautiful together 🥺"
"the way chris was super worried about Y/N so he ripped off his bandana too quickly to help her 😔😔😔"
"I want what they have so bad"
"nick and matt feeling guilty and then worrying about her was so cute!!"
"them baking it from the beginning again only because Y/N wanted to eat that cake is so thoughtful 😭"
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My asks are always open. Feel free to send requests or anything at all 🩷💋
And remember to treat people with kindness always!
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~ taglist:
@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd @hearts4chris @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @leah-loves-lilies @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @sturniolho @ksskianshd
(If you want to be added to the taglist, please comment here)
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heartofjasmina · 2 months
Text
deaf!Bakugou teaching you sign, his rough hands over yours as he shows your fingers what to do, his red eyes intense as he watches you practice, the soft huffs of laughter when you mess up. deaf!Bakugou patting your head as he leaves, the only sign that he's pleased with your progress. you'd never guess his heart was pounding in his chest as he taught you the sign for "together."
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iateyourparents · 3 months
Note
hello! could you write johnnie guilbert fluff? maybe a scenario where him and fem!reader are spending a day together (filming a video, doing random stuff) just being two people in love and jake and tara tease them and call them a married couple
deaf, mute and blind | j.g.
pairing: johnnie guilbert x fem!reader
summary: you, johnnie and jake are recording a new challenge video.
warnings: use of y/n, bad writing and grammar(i’m sorry but english isn’t my first language)
an: hi, thank you <33 hope you like it!
pictures are from pinterest :)
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“Hi guys, it’s me, Tara, and today I’m here with Jake, y/n and Johnnie.” Tara introduced you and you all waved to the camera.
“Hi!” you greeted her viewers.
“Today I’m gonna torture my guests… No, but I wish.” she pouted and you all laughed “Today, my guests will be playing into deaf, mute and blind but…they will have many challenges and quests to do throughout the day. But they main goal is to do shopping and bake me cookies! Any words guys?”
“I hope I get deaf, cause I don’t think I can go much longer with them talking.” you rolled your eyes looking at Jake and your boyfriend.
“Hey!” Johnnie gasped pretending to be offended, placing hand on his chest “That hurt love.”
You only rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the smile that was forcing its way onto your face.
“Alright, so now they will draw sticks and get to know what senses will be taken from them!” Tara showed her viewers three sticks and then she turned to you “Ladies first.”
You took the one in the middle and immediately looked at written words.
“Yeah! I’m deaf today!” You did a little winning dance. Next one choosing stick was Johnnie and he got mute.
“Oh, so I will be blind.” Jake stated “That’s good actually, at least I don’t have to look at your ugly faces.” he smirked and you laughed.
Tara handed you all your things - blindfold for Jake, duck tape for Johnnie and earphones for you.
“Let me also add, that the person who won’t do the most of their mini challenges, has to take a cold shower on the street!” Tara smiled mischievously.
“Is this enough to charge her with domestic abuse?” Jake asked kind of scared.
When everyone was ready Tara started talking to the camera and you could only guess she was explaining to people what you gonna do and not long later Johnnie took your hand to let you know you were going out. You both helped blindfolded Jake to the car and Tara drove you to the nearest store.
She turned on the camera and pointed it at you and Johnnie. You didn’t see anyone talking so you decided to speak “I think Tara already told you guys but we’re making cookies so now we have to find all of the needed ingredients.” you informed and Tara pointed the camera to Johnnie who was gesturing towards some alley. He took your hand and started dragging you there with Tara going behind you but you suddenly stopped, remembering something.
You quickly turned around and jogged to Jake to walk him to Johnnie and Tara. He said something that made Tara laugh and Johnnie’s arms shudder in a silent laugh.
You really started to regret wanting to be deaf one, because not hearing anything yet seeing it, made you frustrated. Also, not hearing Johnnie made you kinda sad. But atleast you listened to your favorite songs.
You all went to grocery alley where Jake gave you his phone so you and Johnnie could find all ingredients for cookies.
Tara was pointing the camera on you all the time and you decided to speak from time to time in case she and Jake weren’t saying anything.
“So we will be doing chocolate chip cookies. Or rather we will be trying to instruct Jake to do it without hurting himself or poisoning us.” you felt a light push on your shoulder and you laughed seeing how Jake was struggling with trying to not miss your form while hitting.
Johnnie swatted Jake’s hand when he tried to hit your shoulder again and side hugged you while looking for flour.
“Johnnie, we need flour for cakes, this one is for bread.” you told him and he gave you a ‘what the hell’ face and you knew that if he could talk and you hear, he would be asking about the difference.
“Alright, I think we got everything.” you stated when you found everything and you all went to cashier’s stands where everyone was looking at you like at idiots, but that wasn’t anything new with Johnnie and Jake.
Tara quickly paid when it was yours turn and you and Johnnie walked Jake to the car.
When you were at home you quickly started to prepare kitchen for your baking.
Suddenly, you felt someone tugging gently at your arm and you saw Johnnie pointing ahead of you. You saw Tara pointing the camera at you all and you took it as a clue to start talking.
“Alright, so now we will be trying to instruct Jake how to make cookie dough, wish us luck!” you smiled sarcastically.
You somehow were cooperating well, Johnnie was showing you the recipe and you were reading it for Jake who then with your and yours boyfriend help were making most of the work.
When cookies were in the oven you didn’t have anything better to do so you sat on the floor in front of the oven and you were just looking at the cookies.
Some time later Johnnie joined you, sitting next to you and placing his head on your shoulder. You hugged him into your side and he gladly snuggled into you, kissing your shoulder.
You sat there for a few minutes, when Tara came to you with a camera and some bowl and told something to Johnnie and then showed you her phone, where she wrote in the notes that now you will be doing random challenges before you could take the cookies out from the oven. It would decide who is the loser of the video.
You all stood in the living room and Tara came to you with the bowl and you took one piece of paper.
“I’ve got ‘activity without your sense’” you read it for them and viewers out loud and then showed the piece of paper to the camera.
Moment later Tara gave you another paper, which turned out to be an instruction what your activity was.
“So I have to call a random contact and try to have normal conversation with that person. That will be hard.” you sighed “Can Johnnie and Jake help me? Like by gesturing?” You looked at Tara and she only nodded.
You looked at the camera and smiled “I’m actually kinda scared that they will gesturing wrong things and I will make a fool of myself.” you laughed and you could see Tara snorting.
Your challenges were done, it wasn’t that bad or at least you were hoping so.
Then you took the cookies out of the oven and tried them when they weren’t hot. They were really good.
“Teamwork makes a dream work, i guess.” you smiled at the camera.
Then you could finally take off the earphones and you were never as grateful for hearing Jake and Johnnie as now.
“God, it’s so good to hear people again. I missed your voice.” you told Johnnie who smiled widely at you and kissed your cheek.
“I’m glad to see again, but I’m scared of how many bruises I’ve got today.” Jake laughed while still trying to get use to the light in the room.
“Alright guys, they made it.” Tara smiled at the camera “I can’t with how cute y/n and Johnnie were today. Literally goals. You were like and old married couple.” she giggled and you smiled.
“So, who’s the loser?” Jake asked after few minutes.
“You Jake.” You laughed “You didn’t do any of your challenges correctly.”
“That’s true.” Tara smirked “You will do your punishment later.”
You stopped recording for some time so Tara could get all of the needed things for Jake’s punishment, so you and Johnnie went to sit on the couch while hugging.
“I really missed your voice today.” you admitted again quietly.
“And I missed talking to you.” he smiled “And kissing you.” he kissed you.
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klemen-tine · 4 months
Text
White Whale
Platonic!Yandere Batfam x Male!Deaf Reader
First Batfam post... this obsession for DC and specifically the Batfam has come out of nowhere and has me by the throat.
But here you guys go.
Thoughts
Sign/Morse Code
Speaking
TW: Hints at past attempted rape, disability discrimination
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Things have been quiet, but at the same time hectic, in the Wayne manor as of lately. Almost everyone was there, sharing the same space and eating the same meals. Almost. The third oldest brother, Y/N, was missing. It stung to say, but the truth of the matter was that he had run away. Leaving behind the external processor of his cochlear implants, and only taking a backpack of clothes. He had left behind the credit card Bruce gave to everyone, only taking out a large sum of cash the day before and booking it. 
Only one note, ‘I’ll be fine.’ All the trackers left in a straight line on his bedside table, some still covered in blood from when he must have dug them out of his body. It made some of the family members wonder if Y/N had always been aware or if he had found them by chance. 
It’s been three months, and everyone was about to go crazy. How could they not? Y/N, for how independent he was and capable, was deaf and has only known the Manor. Jason, the closest to Y/N, has been more vicious on the patrols and was constantly pacing back and forth in the library. Reading and rereading all of Y/N’s favorites (even though he hated them), and sometimes even just sitting in Y/N’s room. Taking in what he had left behind, barely taking any clothes, none of his electronics (his phone was still here), and one of his favorite books that he always kept in his room. 
Jason’s going to put a tracker in that book once they get Y/N back. 
Nevertheless, sometimes he just sits there. On Y/N’s bed, and takes in the room, sometimes he’s alone and sometimes he’s with a sibling. Every now and then he’ll see Bruce in here, thumbing through Y/N’s journals. 
When Jason closes his eyes, could feel the ghost of Y/N’s touches, the feeling of Y/N’s smaller and thinner body resting against his as he read. Thin fingers gently pressed against Jason’s throat to feel the vibrations, picking up when Jason spoke in a higher or lower tone, laughing when he made an obnoxious voice for a character he absolutely loathed. Cold hands gently cupping his face under the sweaty red helmet, grounding Jason to the present. 
Dick, as the eldest child, prided himself in being in-tune with his siblings. He would bend and twist himself to keep himself available and aware of his siblings' emotions. He was the guy everyone went to when things were wrong or they needed advice. So, he wonders what he did wrong for Y/N to leave without saying anything. Their third older brother never hinted at anything being wrong, or even any sign of him wanting to leave. There was no change in his moods, no change in interests, no major cash withdrawals besides the night he left. 
His older brother instincts were stressed and have been stressed since his little brother had disappeared. In his hands, he fingered a silver stud that Y/N had left behind. Smart of him, because a small tracker was placed underneath the tourmaline gem. The blue hiding it wonderfully while also looking beautiful on Y/N’s skin. Decorating his ears that he had pierced himself (he can still hear Alfred’s outrage whenever he is reminded of that), and being the only piece of jewelry that they wanted him to wear. 
Still, Dick had wished he had taken them. He wonders if Y/N knew about the trackers in these earrings, or the trackers in the pairs of shoes he left. If he did, the other did a great job in not letting anyone know. However, if he didn’t, then it made this all the more frustrating. How could their deaf, non-combatant, and to be frank average intelligence, brother get out of this heavily monitored manor? Tim had spent years upgrading the systems, making it stronger and stronger each time. 
So, how? More importantly, why?
Dick couldn’t wrap his head around the reason why Y/N would want to leave. He’s fed great food, he has a nice bed, he can read great books, and he’s always surrounded by family. It’s not like they limited his time outside, he can basically come and go when he wants. 
As long as he was back in the manor by nightfall, Y/N could go anywhere. 
What sucked even more was that none of them had the slightest clue where he could be. Y/N could be dead for all they know. 
Dick subdued that thought, having faith that the self-defense they had drilled into Y/N would keep him safe until they found him. However they all intimately know how unfair and unkind the world can be. Y/N, sweet and defenseless Y/N, was all alone somewhere in the world. The worst outcomes kept reappearing in his mind and playing on Y/N’s past traumas. 
Why couldn’t his brother see that he was safest here? Everyone praised the Lord that Y/N expressed no interest in being a vigilante, and that his career of choice was instead choosing to be an editor. He took a gap year this year, which everyone rejoiced over. Y/N was a hard worker, and was someone who fully dived into things without taking a break. Like Tim. 
Still, Dick wished Y/N would see what they saw. Y/N needs them, just like how they need Y/N. Dick flopped into the couch, thumbing through his photos and finding one of him and Y/N. When they do find him, they’re going to have to remind him where he belongs. 
++++
Y/N took in the sun rays with a content smile. His once pale skin now has a slight tint to it, and his hair now lighter due to the sea water and sun. The white beaches reflect the warm rays and the blue waters look like familiar eyes. It took him a while to get used to being on his own, which was proof that he needed to do this. Never in his life has he felt so free. 
The wind tossing his hair and the view of waves crashing on the shore had him smiling. The Moby Dick in his hands as he reread the pages, noting the post-it notes he had in it, jotting down his thoughts and musings. The Dominican Republic beaches were already something to die for, but here on the hidden beaches, where only a handful of people knew of its location, were worth killing for. Y/N looked back at the small bungalow he was renting, paying in cash to keep his name off the lease and only staying until March before he will leave for Europe, and smiled. A cute little thing that looked like it could topple at the slightest storm. The electricity was powered by a generator and there was no hot water. Maybe warm, but never hot. Which Y/N was shockingly fine with. It wasn’t like it was cold here like how it was in Gotham. 
His biggest stressor was cooking. Which furthermore proved how he needed to do this. Out of all his brothers, he is the only one who doesn’t know how to cook. He can make the basics, like mac-n-cheese, ramen, rice, and basic pasta dishes. However, when his landlord had given him a fish to eat, Y/N stared at it with great embarrassment. 
It’s not like he had a phone, or even the internet, to google it. 
He had almost set the kitchen on fire but that’s something he’s not going to tell his landlord about. 
Thankfully, despite how well-hidden this bungalow was, the community around was strong and well-receptive to him. When he first told them that he was deaf, which was completely by accident, he started getting free food and notepads to write on. However, no one treated him differently. He wasn’t coddled, besides once again the free meal every now and then but he’s positive that also has to deal with how frightened he looked when he was asked to help out with cooking one time, nor was he pestered. 
As much as he loves his family, the Wayne family could be… a lot. Always around him, constantly monitoring him, coddling him like he was going to break at the slightest hint of him facing a struggle. Some of them unknowingly, or unintentionally, use his deafness against him as a reason why he couldn’t do certain things. He is grateful to Bruce for giving him his hearing somewhat back, the cochlear implants truly made life easier, but Y/N was curious about the part of him. 
He lost his hearing at the age of 10, a gradual process that started when he was 8. The nerves in his ears deteriorated to the point not even the sound of a building explosion could be heard by him. Being deaf in East Gotham as a 10-year-old was basically a death sentence. It didn’t help that Y/N was naturally curious, meaning there were a lot of things he stuck his nose in that he shouldn’t have. It is only because of Jason that he is alive, which the other will always deny but Y/N stands by. 
Jason and him had met when they were both 6, being neighbors with similar living conditions had made them close. Jason was with him when his hearing started to disappear, and he was with Jason when Catherine had died from an overdose. The two of them took to the streets and set up a small base in an abandoned building. 
He was with him when they decided to steal the Batmobile's wheels, clinging onto Jason’s red hoodie when the local vigilante had lifted him up by the collar of said hoodie. Those eyes that peaked through the mask drifted from defiant blue eyes to terrified E/C eyes. 
They had become twins, brothers with different last names and different birthdays, but twins nevertheless. Inseparable and always joined at the hips, only leaving each other when Jason went on patrol as Robin and Y/N chose to stay behind with Alfred. While Jason learned how to kick someone’s ass, Y/N learned how to treat them when their own asses got kicked. 
He cried when Jason died. Sobbed and deteriorated as he slept in Jason’s room, and sobbed some more when he tried to read some of Jason’s books. He let Dick comfort him, taking him on daily excursions to the beach and riding on the back of his motorcycle. Bruce had read to him, just how Jason used to, and while it wasn’t the same he appreciated the man trying. Alfred continued to be the emotional support they all relied on him to be, and constantly patted his shoulders and baked him his favorite treats. 
Y/N screamed at Bruce when he brought Tim back, stating that he was the new Robin. He made it clear he wasn’t mad at Tim, but Bruce. He gave the man the cold shoulder for weeks while making sure Tim was accommodated for. He cried again when Jason came back, hugging the other and cupping Jason’s older face between his hands. He rested a hand on Bruce’s shoulder when Damian showed up, feeling for him and showing emotions that Bruce could not. 
Y/N loves his family with everything in him, and he knows that he is loved back. However, the love from one person was different from the love of multiple people. Y/N knows, is intimately aware, that their love is the type disguised as golden necklaces and stained glass windows. When in reality, they are chains and the gold bars of a cage. He knows they kept him dependent on them for life necessities, such as food, money, and a place to sleep. 
He was never allowed to get a job. When he tried he was rejected or never called back. He was allowed to cook, but only the basics, as Alfred didn’t want him hurting himself. His curfew was before nightfall, meaning in winter 4:30 was when he had to be back inside the manor. 
They gave him his hearing so the silence would continue to be deafening. It is why he left the external processors. Whether Y/N liked it or not, he was deaf. He is a part of that community, and it is about time he got used to that part of himself. 
The young adult knows his family loves him, and wants to care for him, but as an adult he knows that he needs to learn some things about life on his own. 
Bruce taught them all well. Alfred taught them all well. His older brothers and younger brothers taught him well. Y/N is ready for this. He has been for a while. 
Closing his book, marking the page with the bookmark, he watched a sperm whale breach for only a moment before disappearing under the waves. Unable to hear the sound it made, but the sight of it was enough. He set the book down on the towel and made his way to the waters. 
++++
It was an accident. It truly was. However, it was a happy accident that had everyone packing and getting ready for the trip. 
One of Tim’s classmates had just returned from vacation, and she was showing photos of the sperm whales that gathered. Tim looked because it was shoved in his face, and he nearly snatched her phone out of her hand. In the back, dressed like a local, he was there. His eyes focused on the breach sperm whales, but Tim would recognize him from any angle in any get up. 
He asked what beach she was at, and she said Playa Rincon, Dominican Republic. Y/N was in the Dominican Republic. But for what? Y/N has never shown any interest in the tropics or even the ocean in general. Sure he loves the beach, but that was it. Never has he expressed his desire to go to another country to experience it. 
So, what could have been there that would draw Y/N in? With the amount of money he withdrew, he could have bought a plane ticket anywhere in the world, and he chose the Dominican Republic. Without a doubt using a fake idea, a fake name, and he was probably using a different name to either rent a place or buy a house. 
Sure, they can all just go over, but if they do they would have to tear apart the country to find him. They work fast, but words can travel faster. 
There has to be a reason why Y/N went. Something there that would at least narrow the search. 
Tim looked around Y/N’s room, searching for anything that would give him a hint. Anything. 
He glanced at the bookshelf where the only book missing was the Moby Dick. A book about how a group of whalers get bested by a giant sperm whale that is believed to be a god. It is a book about a Captain that has a self-destructive obsession with the white whale called the Moby Dick. Based on a true story of a crew on a ship called the Essex. 
“I’ve always felt bad for the whale.” Tim raised an eyebrow, staring at his brother who was stroking their youngest brother’s head as Damian slept on. The book In the Heart of the Sea in between his thin fingers as he met Tim’s inquiring gaze. 
“There is no proof as to why the whale rammed into the Essex, but many believe it was due to a mistake. The hammering in the hull of the ship sounded like another whale.” Tim signed, ‘But why do you feel bad?’ Y/N smiled, “Because, not only were they being hunted but now a book written about how this one whale is the reason a reputable Captain goes mad really does paint them in a bad light.” 
‘Whaling has been outlawed.’ 
“Still, I bet this book only increased it for a while.” Tim watched Y/N bookmark his page, closing the book before returning his hands to Damian’s head. 
‘Do you like sperm whales?’ Y/N beamed, “I do. They really are such an amazing animal, I hope I get to see one in person.” 
Tim stood straighter, pulling out his phone and doing a quick Google search. The Dominican Republic is the only place where sperm whales stay all year. 
“There’s no way.” 
“What.” Tim brushed past Damian, rushing down to the Batcave and ignoring the glare the youngest sent him. It didn’t take long to find whale sighting information. It took even less time to find the pattern. Series of reds, blue, yellows, and green decorating the waters around Dominican Republic. The red dots were where the most recent sights were, and he stared at the location his classmate was at when they saw the whale. Where Y/N’s photo was accidentally taken. 
There is only one spot that the red dots haven’t reached yet, and if the pattern stayed true, they had about two to three days. 
Tim fished out his phone, calling Bruce, “I know where Y/N is.” 
+++
Bruce loves his sons. He would risk himself for them and would do everything in his power to ensure they are safe. Yes, they had been Robins, yes Jason had died, yes his and Dick’s relationship was still rocky, but damn did he love them. 
He stared at a photo of when Y/N and Jason were 13, 6 months freshly moved into the manor, and it was him and Dick standing on opposite sides of them. Jason grinning brightly, holding a more timid Y/N’s hand who was holding onto Bruce’s jacket. Dick was crouching next to Jason, laughing at something the other had said before the picture was taken. Y/N, when they first moved in, had been terribly shy. He always hid behind or stayed next to Jason, and watched Bruce and Alfred with hesitant eyes. Jason on the other hand was outspoken with his mistrust, but willing to comply with their rules for some things. 
Bruce remembers when Y/N first helped Alfred dress their bruises and scratches. Alfred taking on a more unruly Jason, while Y/N helped with the minor stuff on Bruce. He had rubbed Y/N’s head with his ungloved hand afterwards, and he watched as those E/Cochromic eyes widened before a large smile took over his young face. Bright and happy with little care in the world. 
He had wanted to keep that on Y/N’s face forever. 
Bruce will be the first to admit that he didn’t do a great job in that. All his failures hung in front of him, and Y/N and Alfred were reminders that those failures didn’t affect just him. Yet, Bruce watched Y/N power on. Continuing to keep his chin up and shoulders back, taking on the new day with more determination. 
Y/N had learned to be strong on his own, and while yes, Bruce is extremely and undeniably proud of him, he is also worried. Terrified. Something he shared with everyone else. The world is unkind to people who are different. It’s unkind to people in general, but to add in something about yourself that you cannot control and that is different from everyone else, it is terrible. Y/N, for how normal he pretends to be, is far from it. 
It stresses Bruce out. He is constantly worried for him, constantly double-checking and ensuring that Y/N is okay. Bruce doesn’t want to admit that he is softer to Y/N because he is deaf, because that is not the complete truth. If anything, Bruce knows he is more controlling of Y/N because of that. Always having to know where he is, who he’s with, what he’s doing and whether it is safe enough for him or not. 
A helicopter parent that the child cannot hear. 
So when Tim had told him of how Y/N had somehow managed to get to the Dominican Republic, and was most likely living there, Bruce wanted to flip a table. All for some whales. He was more stressed than impressed over the fact that his son, who had no experience with Robin or anything illegal, managed to not only get a fake passport, a fake ID, and then live in another country for three months. 
“Oh that kid?” One of the locals recognized who Bruce was asking about, a smile on their face as they recalled what an excellent free diver he was. The man grinned, pulling out a camera that had Bruce raising an eyebrow, “I’m an underwater photographer. That kid is a natural in the ocean.” Bruce stared at the photos, and even he could admire just how in place Y/N looked amongst the coral reefs and deep blue. Long legs looked fluid, and his body lithe like the fish he swam amongst. 
Y/N looked free. 
“Pleasant to talk to as well. It's a shame he’s deaf, he’d be a great teacher for other free-divers.” Bruce wanted to deck this man across the face for stating that Y/N couldn’t do something because of his lack of hearing, but that would be hypocritical. How many times has he used Y/N’s disability against him? 
According to Tim, this area is the next stop for whale sightings, meaning Y/N has to be somewhere around here. The family has split up, asking the locals and looking around the tourist areas. 
“Did he say where he was staying?” The local shook his head, “No, didn’t ask either.” Bruce wants to break the man's fingers just to make sure the other doesn’t know. The local, as if sensing the dangers he was in, gulped, “But if I had to guess, he most likely lives near coral reefs.
“Somewhere he could free dive constantly without having to go out on a boat. Afterall, for how short of a time he’s been doing it, he’s extremely impressive. A lot of this sport takes practice.” 
Bruce nodded in thanks. It is the  Brucie Wayne smile now on his face, “Thanks, and how much for the photo?” 
Y/N stumbled back to his place, his cheeks flushed and a giggle on his lips. In his hands was a bottle of homemade tequila from one of the locals he had just gotten done partying with, and the taste was thick on his tongue but he couldn’t deny that the heat in his belly was addicting. Stumbling into the tiny bungalow, he set the bottle down on the kitchen table and resisted the urge to take another sip. 
Doing a quick stretch, he watched the waves crash against the beach, the full moon illuminating the waters and the white sand. 
Only one more day and the sperm whales should be at this side of the island. Maybe they’ll be here tonight. Scratching the nape of his neck, Y/N released a pleased sound before making his way to his room to grab stuff for the shower. He moved in the dark, knowing where everything was and not needing to add to the electricity bill. 
The room itself was nice, probably the most grand room in the entire space. Above the bed was a large window that allowed for natural light, constantly illuminating the room. In the soft light of the moon, Y/N navigated his room with practiced movements. The fire in his gut making him stumble sometimes, but nothing serious or even alarming. When he lifted his gaze, his eyes landed on the book on his bedside tables and something else. 
Furrowing his brows, Y/N walked to that part of his room, and his eyes turned hazy momentarily as his fingers brushed over the external processor of the cochlear implants, thumbing them and feeling the cool metal under the pad of his thumb. Fond memories of when he first got his hearing back, if only somewhat, and the way the world burst into noise. 
He chuckled when a memory popped up of him and Jason arguing, and Y/N had taken off the processors and closed his eyes so he couldn’t see or hear Jason’s argument. The fight dissolved into laughter, Jason hugging Y/N and the both of them landing on the carpeted floor. 
They were the external processors he left behind when he left the Wayne manor. Decorated in small stickers that Tim and Dick jokingly put on them, and the small scratches from when Damian had accidentally dropped them. 
The processors he left behind to start this new life figuring out how to cope with silence. 
The processors… he left… behind… 
His E/C eyes widened and he made a quick sprint for the door, dropping his clothes on the floor. He has to go outside where there is open space and where he can hopefully be seen by a local. His family of vigilants excelled in close-combat and combat the needed tight spaces. It wasn't like Gotham had a lot of room to begin with. 
He had to get out of here. Y/N has to leave, or at least give himself a chance. 
When he threw open the door, he almost collided into the broad chest of one of his brothers. His eyes glanced up and he met the crazed and desperate eyes of his twin. The red helmet off of his head and exposing the bags under his eyes. Guilt crushed Y/N’s chest, and he wanted to cup Jason’s cheeks within his hands. He wanted to assure others he was safe, that he was fine, and that he was ready to do this. 
But they would never get it. 
He took a step back instead. Jason followed, and Y/N nearly screamed when he felt the floor creak beneath his feet. 4 other pairs of feet moved, making the wood creak and vibrate under his feet and alerting him that they were all in his home. 
‘Ready to come home?’ Jason signed, and Y/N felt the wood creak. Y/N shook his head, never taking his eyes off of the man in front of him. Jason's facial expression changed.
‘Too bad.’ Y/N dodged a pair of hands that were behind him and barely side-stepped another pair. Jason stood in front of the door, ensuring that Y/N could not leave through it. He remembers just how slippery the other could be, and he was not risking it. 
Y/N raced to the kitchen, grabbing the handle of the tequila bottle, and holding it like a bat. In front of him was his family, Damian, Tim, Dick, Jason, and Bruce. None of them were dressed in their vigilante outfits, and that is because Y/N is not a criminal that needs a suit to fear. He is their brother who needs guidance from his family.
“C’mon Y/N, vacation is over.” Dick said, and Y/N had difficulty reading his lips but he understood it. 
“No.” Dick’s jaw clenched and he could see Tim grab something from his pocket. 
“Y/N. If you wanted to see the whales you could have asked.” Y/N scrunched his nose, and tightened his grip on the bottle, “Put that down, and let's go.” Y/N shook his head, “No. I want to stay here.” Dick’s lips pursed and Damian scowled, “Why? You have no hot water, you can’t cook, there is literally nothing here other than those whales.” Y/N’s face must have made a terribly pained expression because Damian looked like he had been the one to be chastised. 
“I want to learn how to do things on my own.”
“That's so stupid Y/N. Come on.” Y/N shook his head, “No! No, I-I want to stay. I am the only one who get tre-treated like glass. Not even Babs gets treated like me!” Jason glared, “That is different Y/N, and you know it.” 
“How?! She is in a wheelchair, and I am deaf. We are both handicapped, but when she wants to do something you have little complaint but when I want to do something you have an entire novel!” It's not fair. Y/N shouldn’t be mad at Barbara, because it is not her fault. But even he couldn’t stop the feeling of resentment building in his chest when he sees how free Barbara is compared to him. 
Y/N doesn’t hate Barbara. He couldn’t hate her, because she’s his sister just like everyone else were his siblings. But he is frustrated. So undeniably frustrated. He spent an ungodly amount of nights laying awake and staring at his ceiling as he thought about it. Trying to find the reason why he is treated like the slightest gust would send him stumbling. He wanted a valid reason. 
“I am deaf. I am not stupid or-or incapable of taking care of myself!” 
“That is not why we are doing this!” There’s no point in yelling because he couldn’t hear it, but Y/N could see the way their throats flexed and mouths opened wider. Y/N shook his head, “I am not glass! I want to learn how to be inde-independent.” He had to slowly say that last word, but he got it.
“I. Am. Staying.” 
This is exactly why Y/N left. This is why he left the way he did. Why he had too. They don’t get it. They’ll never get it. How could they understand? They have always been able to make their own decisions. They have always been able to do things that Y/N only wishes he could do. They had such a stangle-hold on his life that the slightest hint of wiggle-room, they only tightened their hold even more. It was suffocating and painful.
It was even more painful because Y/N still loves them, and he knows they love him. That this was just a version of their love that was unfortunately, or fortunately for everyone else, reserved for only him. A chain and leash meant for only him. A cage for him. With intricate gold bars that looked beautiful, but still kept him trapped.
He missed Bruce’s signal, but he watched how Damian was the first to move. Y/N isn’t too sure how he dodged Damian, the little gremlin he was, but he also knows that they weren’t going hard on him. He knows they are not treating him like a criminal, but as a brother. Which means, Y/N was somewhat at an advantage. Bruce and Jason had made sure Y/N knew the fundamentals to self-defense and how to use his surroundings. 
His biggest downfall however, was him focusing on Dick and Damian, and forgetting that one of them technically could still intervene. Tim, with whatever he was holding didn’t join the fray and Jason was too busy guarding the door as a just in case. Which is why when a large hand gripped the wrist that was holding the still intact tequila bottle, twisting the joint in a way that had Y/N dropping it, had him crying out in shock. His short fingernails digging into the callused skin of his adopted father, Bruce Wayne. 
The man stared at him with a heated glare and Y/N fought off the urge to shrink under the heavy gaze. However, he threw his weight back, trying to dislodge the grip around his wrist. Bruce used his other arm to immobilize Y/N’s upper body, stopping him from throwing an elbow or scratching his hand. Trapping Y/N’s body and making his already racing heart nearly burst in panic. 
“No! Let go!” Y/N wanted to stay. He has to stay. His foot stomped and he released a cry, and when he looked down he wanted to cry. The tequila bottle had shattered, and Y/N was the only one who was barefoot. He could feel the glass cutting into the skin and the sting of alcohol entering the wound. 
‘Shit!’ He grit his teeth, trying to push aside the pain and get Bruce’s grip off of him. Only, someone was touching his feet now and he didn’t mean to panic but he kicked up. Memories from Crime Alley filled his mind as large hands gripped his ankles, and Bruce’s grip changed to better accommodate someone who was no longer standing. 
His throat closed up and he began gasping as he tried desperately to ground himself. His eyes blown wide and tears now streamed down his face as those hands were replaced with others. The darkness of the bungalow now shifted to the darkness of Crime Alley, and the way the counter and island now looked like the buildings of the Alley way had Y/N screeching. Thrown back into the past with painful shove and memories that clouded his vision. 
“Jason! Jason! Help, help they’re touching me.” Another pair of arms replaced the ones around his arms, and the hands around his ankles let go, but it did nothing. Y/N was effectively back to the past where it was only him and Jason. Those strong arms encircled around him, keeping his own arms pinned and secured, and they began to rock. 
Tapping on his skin and Y/N’s mind began translating it. There was no ASL or Morse Code in Crime Alley, but when Jason and him realized he was going deaf they made their own. One that is unique to them. 
One Y/N still remembers, and so does Jason. 
‘It’s okay. It’s okay, no one is doing anything. It’s just me and the family.’ Y/N shook, and he struggled to catch a breath. There is a hand on his chest, trying to ground him, and he wonders if that hand is the one that is gripping his lungs and making it so hard to breathe. 
‘It’s okay, it’s okay. You are here. You are safe. We’re safe, and we’re going home.’ Before Y/N could process that, there was a sharp prick in his neck, and before he could shout once more a hand covered his mouth, and his body tried to escape the grip. His thrashing only got weaker and weaker as whatever drug was given to him. 
His eyes grew blurry and the last thing he saw was Jason’s face. 
++++
Waking up was hard. His head felt heavy and his limbs couldn’t move. Opening his eyelids seemed impossible, but when he did he groaned. The light was too bright and his limbs too heavy to do anything other than to continue groaning. 
A hand rested on his forehead, and Y/N was too exhausted to try and shake it off. He could hear some shuffling and he furrowed his brows. He took off his external processors a few months ago… 
That night returned to his memory full force and Y/N groaned from the headache. The hand on his forehead moving to massage his temples. 
“Shh, I know. You had a crazy time.” It's been a long time since he heard Bruce’s voice, but it was still deep and gravelly just how he remembers. Y/N turned his head with difficulty, and met those blue eyes that have been staring at him intently. 
Y/N opened his mouth, but closed it. The argument he had with everyone was still fresh in his mind, and he couldn’t help but to continue feeling bitter. Bruce, sensing his son’s thoughts sighed exasperatedly, “Y/N, I admire your drive for wanting to be independent, I really do. But pulling a stunt like that is exactly why we worry.” Y/N scrunched his nose, “You don’t trust me.” 
“That’s not-” 
“It is. If you did trust me you would let me stay out later than nightfall and would be okay with me traveling without a babysitter.” Bruce removed his hand, and stared down at Y/N. His expression is painfully neutral, “Y/N.” 
“You, and no one else in this household, trust me. Then you sit here, listing out everything I do that makes you lose your trust in me, but it’s hard to lose what I never had,” He was voicing his opinion, an opinion that he has had for a while but has never said anything about because he didn’t want to interrupt the balance. 
More importantly, he didn’t want to admit it to himself. They always called him trustworthy, but they never did trust him. He trusted them though. He trusted them with his life, with his secrets, and his insecurities. Then they throw all of that back in his face and expect him to continue making the same mistakes. 
Bruce sighed, as if he was talking to a child that has needed to be told multiple times why they can’t put a fork in a toaster. He met Y/N’s E/C eyes, staring into the irises and seeing the truth behind his words. One of his fingers gently touched one of the external processors, “It’s not that I don’t trust you, I don’t trust other people. This world is awful to people who are different.” Y/N scrunched his nose, and Bruce continued, “You still panic when your ankles are touched.” 
“That’s not fair! That was a stressful situation and you all just made it worse and then-” 
“I know. I know. Dick knows and he is sorry about that, but you stepped on glass.” 
“You made me drop the bottle.” 
“You shouldn’t have been dri-” 
“I’m 23. I’m legal to drink in every country.” 
“Y/N-” 
“I was fine.” Y/N wanted to cry. He had a taste of freedom and then it was taken from him. Forcefully so. 
Bruce stood up, almost knocking the chair back as he did so, and Y/N flinched. He was unable to move still, because whatever drug Tim had given me must have been a muscle relaxant as well. He watched as Bruce schooled his emotions, quickly swallowing them down and then sighed. 
The man leaned down and pressed a kiss into Y/N’s H/C locks. His hand now cupping Y/N’s ear and external processor, “You are grounded until I say otherwise, Y/N. You will stay within these Manor walls until I believe you have learned your lesson.” He ignored Y/N’s face of exhaustion and disappointment. Not at himself, but at Bruce. The man made his way to leave, but before he closed the door, he looked back at his son. His son who had turned away from him and was taking note of the bars over the windows. 
Bruce closed his eyes, feeling his disappointment in the situation and shut the door behind him, making sure to lock it.
_________
THIS WAS SO LONG!!!
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ohdeersthings · 1 year
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Ao'nung x F!Deaf!Metkayina!Reader
Summary: Ao'nung has loved you since childhood.
Warning: Fluff, Ao'nung is a jerk to everyone but reader, some angst (I love emotional revelation of feelings), characters are aged up 18+ but no warnings here! Ronal ships reader and Ao'nung,
Note: was a request from @keyratch hope you enjoy it!
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~.~
Growing up, you always knew you were different. You couldn't hear the ocean waves, couldn't listen to the music of your clan for celebrations. You couldn't even harmonize with your mother as she sings to lull you to sleep.
Being born deaf, your parents tried so hard to pray to Eywa for a sign. The Tsahìk, Ronal, tried every herb and technique she knew, but nothing could change who you were.
What Eywa had decided for you to be.
You never blamed Eywa though, for the Great Mother had blessed you to feel a connection to her. You could feel her in the sand; the warmth of the sun that she blessed you with, the coolness of the ocean as you swam to admire the creatures she's created.
Even as a small child you had been drawn to the beauty of the Pandora.
The smallest sea shells you would collect and braid into your hair, stringing some together to make a necklace, bracelet, or head peice. The brightest floral you would gather to present to friends and family, just because the beauty of them made you think of others.
Ao'nung had only been eight when he met you for the first time. While training with his father on spear throwing he had caught sight of you collecting sea shells.
He was so distracted by you, he grabbed the spear wrong and cut his finger. Letting out a small hiss of pain, he instantly sucked on it, causing his father to gaze at him and then at you. Tonowari couldn't help but chuckle, "I see the silent beauty has caught your eye," Ao'nung was confused by his father's words, but quickly denied having even spotted you.
"Well that's too bad, because here she comes right now," sure enough you had seen the leader with his son, Ao'nung and had started over in their direction when you saw the big was hurt.
Ao'nung could only feel himself freeze as you closed the distance fast, suddenly reaching out to grab his hand as he tried to back away,
"H-hey! What are you doing?!" Ao'nung flinched as you pressed on his finger, the one he'd cut being too caught up looking at you. You never said anything, just brought out a healing leaf from your hip pouch and wrapped his finger quickly and efficiently.
"Thank you," he mumbled, you smiled and let go of his hand, signing to him, 'Would you like to play after training?' It had puzzled him why you didn't just ask out loud, but after looking to his father for assurance, he nodded to you causing you to smile and nod, turning back the way you'd come and headed away.
"Father, why didn't she just ask me?" Ao'nung questioned, looking up at Tomowari who smiled sadly at him, "she is deaf my son, she cannot speak for she never learned how, she cannot hear you," Ao'nung didn't feel any different towards you, maybe more curious, but he never felt like you were weird.
~.~
After that day many years ago, Ao'nung had grown, and so did his love for you. What started out as amazement and adoration as children, had since grown into feeling as if you were the only one for him.
The way you helped his sister with day to day chores, such grace and beauty weaving baskets and collecting herbs for his mother. The complete definition of selfless as you taught the children of the clan their sign, who else but you with your patience and grace.
The tingles you left on his body when you would tap his hand, shoulder, arm, anything to get his attention. You left him yearning for your attention day and night. Left him in agonizing pain at the thought of having you with him under the stars but couldn't.
Yourself however, would be a prize to any fine young Na'vi, but to your own self image you were at the bottom of the food chain. Your biggest insecurity being your deafness. You would never hear your mates words of love and comfort, would never hear the giggles of your own future children should Great Mother bless you with any.
You never had anyone express interest in you, although Ao'nung made sure of that, not that you knew. He always glared, growled or warned any man who looked in your direction. He made sure to linger a hand on your waist while talking, a smug look over his shoulder at the hunters who had tried to talk to you, a smirk at the Ilu keepers who tried to get to close.
When the Sullys had arrived, you had been busy helping Ronal with her duties as she was trusting you to take over while she got ready to give birth.
You didn't get to see Tsireya and Ao'nung as often as they were busy with teaching the new comers the traditions and expectations of the clan.
'(Y/N) go fetch Ao'nung, he should be down on the beach,' Ronal requested, you nodded, standing from your sitting position and heading out of the Marui, starting your trek to the beach.
You had found a few flowers on your way, taking a moment to pluck them from the ground and arranged them nicely. Maybe Ao'nung would like something to help brighten his mood.
Stopping once you reached the beach, you felt your eyes widen in disbelief as Ao'nung and his friends were surrounding Kiri, pointing at her and laughing. Kiri was clearly uncomfortable and trying to walk away, luckily Lo'ak came and started to intercept the boys, only they turned their hateful ways onto him.
You felt your fists clench up, nervously twisting the flowers. You started walking in that direction, Neteyam showing up as well from beside you, making yourself known too.
Ao'nungs ears pressed back, his body feeling hot with embarrassment that you'd caught him being rude to someone.
"Oh look, big brother to the rescue-" Ao'nung reached his hand out, silencing his friend who bowed his head obediently. "I need you to respect my sister from now on," Neteyam threatened, his eyes glaring into Ao'nung who nodded, trying to ease the anxiety in his chest as you approached too.
You tapped Kiris hand, the girl turning to you as you looked her over, as she tried to calm you down, 'I'm fine, no harm done,' she assured, you face turning into one of doubt but giving up in the end.
The three siblings went to walk away, but Lo'ak suddenly turned around and went back to Ao'nung, his smirk and quirked eyebrow making you upset a little. Why was he acting this way? Was he really this mean to them?
Ao'nung didn't know what had happened when Lo'ak punched him, one second he was standing and the next on the floor with his friends helping him up. They all jumped Lo'ak who held his ground to the best of his abilities, but soon found his brother Neteyam jumping in to help him.
You gasped, hands covering your mouth in disbelief, the flowers falling into the sand forgotten. Why were they doing this? 'Kiri, we need to stop them' you told her, but even she could only look on in a mix of horror and laughter.
Deciding that enough was enough, you inserted yourself into the fight, Ao'nungs friends quickly backing away as you pulled them off.
Neteyam hadn't seen you enter the fight, when he felt his shoulder get touched he quickly turned and went to punch the person, barely being able to stop himself before he hit you.
You had flinched inward, arms raised quickly to protect yourself, eyes shut incase of pain. "(Y/N)!" Ao'nung threw himself to you, shoving Neteyam out of the way, his hands gently grabbing yours to bring them down.
You squeaked, the cutest sound Ao'nung had ever heard, and opened your eyes to see Ao'nung checking you for injuries despite his cheek being bruised and lip busted. His eyes held fear and worry, hands moving from your arms to gently hold your face.
An adult nearby had brought his father and Toruk Makto, but he didn't care for the shouts that were happening, he could only focus on you. He brought his hands into view, 'You okay?' Ao'nung questioned, though your face contorted into worry as you held his face, feeling bad when he flinched from your thumb brushing his cheek.
He grabbed your hand and held it at his side as he turned to Neteyam, "Don't you ever touch her again!" If it hadn't been for his father pulling him away with you in tow, he would've attacked the oldest sibling.
"Maybe don't start things your girlfriend tries to finish!" Lo'ak yelled back, getting dragged away by his own father.
Upon entering the Marui, his mother hit him upside the head, "skxqwng! You brought (Y/n) into this?! I pray for the resilience to not break your bones!" Ao'nung averted his mother and fathers gaze, his head down as he couldn't even look to you either. Ashamed you had caught him at his worst moment.
"I leave (Y/n) to take care of your wounds, Great Mother help you find some sense!" Ronal hissed, Tonowari leading her out of the Marui to give you two some privacy.
You slowly walked over, placing a hand on his arm, Ao'nung letting you lead him to the mat and both of you sitting down facing eachother.
'What were you thinking?' You inquired, waiting for his reply as you began to mix a paste together. 'I wasn't thinking, but they deserved it, freaks all of them' he huffed, sucking it back in when you roughly applied the paste to his cheek.
His eyes found yours as you stared at him with hurt, 'What does that make me then? I cannot hear, I cannot speak well, they can communicate freely, I have to look for eyes and attention,'
Ao'nung felt his throat constrict, his hands clamy. You were so beautiful in his eyes, but the way he treated them made you think ill of yourself and that's not want he wanted.
You looked down, eyes glossy from unshed tears. His hand on your chin made you look at him, your lip trembling as your ears pressed back.
Ao'nung let go and signed only one word, but it made your body erupt in flames.
'Beautiful'
~.~
Since the incident with the boys on the beach, Ao'nung tried to be kind in your presence when the sullys were around but when the opportunity to trick Lo'ak revealed itself, he couldn't help it.
When he returned though and found you looking at him with those eyes again. Eyes filled with pain and now disappointment, he knew had to do the right thing.
'I'm sorry,' he apologized, finding you alone by the beach later that night. You turned from him, arms crossed. You weren't going to look at him or reply.
He fell to his knees in front of you, grasping at your hands desperately. You huffed, eyes glaring into him. Ao'nung used to pray he would never see that day you gave him that look, but after what he'd done to Lo'ak he could say he deserved it.
Hands trailing from your hands down to your elbows, he slowly let go and began to speak, "I'm sorry, I know I've been stupid and they don't deserve that, I'm not sure what I was thinking," Ao'nung kept his eyes trained on yours, watching you look exhausted.
"Why risk the danger? What if he'd gotten hurt? Or worse, you," you felt your lips pull back in a snarl, though he could only find pleasure in the fierceness of your face. His heart beat fast knowing you cared about him.
"I wish you would think with this," you placed your hand on his chest, feeling his erratic heartbeat, "not with this," you playfully pushed his forehead, a smile appearing on your lips. You couldn't stay mad at him, not when he smiled at you as softly as he did now.
He grasped your hand, bringing it back to his chest. You felt your own speed up to match his, both of you filled with deep affection for one another, not that the other knew.
You both stared at eachother for what felt like hours, yet only a few minutes had passed, just enjoying eachothers company.
When you had broken out of your daydream however, you quickly pulled your hand away and stood up, eyes darting everywhere but him as you shakily signed, "we shouldn't be doing this, I have to go,"
Ao'nung couldn't stand fast enough when you pulled away, tripping over the sand as you ran. Everything had just been perfect, what had happened?
~.~
You helped Ronal to sit, her stomach slowly getting bigger as the days went on. "Baby is good?" You wondered, a grin on your face of excitement as she nodded, her own smile gracing her features.
'Baby is strong, maybe a boy like Ao'nung,' she replied, you nodding in agreement, 'Ao'nung differently is strong,'
'Yes, he will be a great Olo'eyktan, if only he hurry and choose his Tsahìk,' she let her eyes slip to your figure out of the corner of her sight, seeing you quickly look down and away. Not out of embarrassment it seemed, but out of disappointment.
Ronal frowned, she did not like seeing you so hurt, especially by her own child, lest he be stupid enough to do it.
Ronal placed her hand on your cheek, bringing your face back up to make eye contact with her, 'why do you look so sad? What has happened?'
You tried to brush her off, 'it's nothing, I'm sure whoever he chooses will make a lovely Tsahìk,' you began to ramble, hands moving quickly, 'Ney`ite is the best diver, Alyara is known to sing beautifully, from what I've seen and been told,'
'He deserves someone who can help him feel better on rough days, someone who can actually listen and help with his problems, who loves and cherishes him as he is,'
Ronal tapped your hand, causing you to heat up in realization, you'd been rambling for too long. 'Someone, like you?' She quirked her brow, a knowing smirk on her face.
You shook your head, eyes feeling glossy with tears, 'what do I have to offer him?' You felt a hiccup erupt in your throat from trying to hold in your sobs, 'I cannot listen to his problems, I cannot comfort our children with words when crying, no one would look to me, Eywa may love me as she created me, but surely Ao'nung loves another,'
Ronal felt her eyes catch the sight of a figure standing behind you. Ao'nung could only stand frozen as he saw what you thought of yourself. He's never loved anyone like he loves you, and it's his fault for making you think otherwise.
Ronal grasped your hands firmly, shaking her head at you. Ronal reached a hand for Ao'nung who walked over, his shadow startling you as you looked upwards, his face looking hurt by your own tears.
Ronal placed your hand in his, his fingers gripping your own softly but firm, like a silent promise to never let go.
The Tsahìk bowed in exiting the Marui, leaving both of you alone.
Ao'nung knelt to face you, your cheeks hot with humiliation that he had to see you like this. You tried to look elsewhere but he placed his hand on your cheek, turning your face towards him.
He let go, feeling a moment of Deja Vu as he thought back to two nights ago by the water. When you both had been just as close in the sand.
"You are not less than anyone here," he signed, feeling his heart excelerate with emotion.
'(Y/n), I don't need to hear your voice to know your words are strong and kind, I don't need your words of comfort when your touches are enough,' he placed your hand on his chest, just as he did those nights ago. He hoped you would feel his heart that's beating full of love for you.
You could only feel a bizarre rush of emotions, anger at yourself for letting Ao'nung find out this way, fear in what is to come, yet, love from knowing he felt the same as you did.
'I'm sorry you did not see yourself as adequate when you are more than I could ever dream, the love you hold for our clan speaks words where your lips may fail,'
You felt your lips quiver, tears falling down your face as you tried to hold yourself together.
'I see you, (Y/n), and I would love for you to become my Tsahìk, my mate,'
You laughed, 'I would love to spend my life with you, I see you, Ao'nung,' you pressed your forehead to his, his own tear or two slipping from his eye as you both enjoyed this moment of peace together.
He raised both hands to your face, cupping your head as he brought your lips to his, the soft, plush feeling of your lips nearly driving him mad with desire. Your own hand finding home on his chest and shoulder as you felt weak from lack of air.
Pulling away, you made him stand up with you, his eyes showing curiosity. You smirked at him, 'Wanna go somewhere more private?' Ao'nungs silence spoke for itself as he dragged you out of the Marui, right past his parents who had a sudden look of realization.
"Oh Great Mother," Ronal sighed exasperated, "Looks like our youngest will be close in age to our grandchild," Tonowari mumbled, flinching from Ronal who began to hit him from saying such words, "skxqwng!"
~.~
6K notes · View notes
doumadono · 2 months
Note
Hi, sweets 🍭 I'd like to request deaf Bakugo headcanons - just him interacting with his little girl that demands his attention as she wants him to play with her (she is aware dad is a little off because he can't hear)
MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST
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As Bakugo's hearing begins to fade periodically with time, his little girl starts noticing the subtle changes.
The little girl, at the age of 5, struggles to understand why her dad doesn't always respond the way others do. When you, her mom, gently explains Bakugo's hearing challenges, the girl takes it all in, absorbing the information.
To bridge the gap, the little girl asks you to teach her some basic signs. With wide-eyed enthusiasm, she practices and learns the signs, eager to communicate better with her dad.
She comes up with creative ways to catch Bakugo's attention - a gentle tap on his lap, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze, or sometimes just grabbing one of the merchandise plushies you collect at home and presenting it to him.
deaf!Bakugo, in turn, has developed a keen sense of visual awareness to understand all of his little girl's signals.
Despite being aware that her dad is a bit different, she continues to demand his attention for playtime! deaf!Bakugo, unaware that his daughter is learning sign language, is pleasantly surprised one day when she excitedly signs to him, asking him to play with her. His heart brims with love and pride, witnessing the earnest effort she's making to connect with him, and he finds it challenging to hold back tears in the middle of the living room.
deaf!Bakugo often engages in games that don't rely heavily on sound but thrive on shared moments. Building intricate block towers, drawing colorful masterpieces, and playing with dolls become their cherished activities!
When it's playtime, Bakugo's face lights up with a soft smile as he watches his daughter's enthusiasm. He might not hear her words and laughter, but he feels the warmth of her joy radiating through the room.
deaf!Bakugo has developed a set of creative signals and cues to respond to his daughter's requests. Whether it's a gentle tap on the shoulder or a specific hand gesture, they have established their own silent language.
As deaf!Bakugo gradually loses his hearing completely, his daughter's ability to communicate with him through signs becomes an invaluable bridge that allows them to share laughter, love, and a world of understanding.
Despite being a hero and handling the challenges of his job, there are moments when deaf!Bakugo, alone in his office while working from home, breaks down. The silence around him reminds him of the laughter of his beloved little girl he can't hear anymore, and it hits him emotionally.
The very first time they finish playing with his daughter's dolls and plushies, Bakugo's heart melts and he can't hold back tears as his little girl approaches him, using sign language to say, "Thank you for playing with me. I love you, Daddy."
The girl is a little scared seeing her dad crying as it is an extremely rare sight. So, she climbs onto his lap, strokes his rough cheeks marked by many scars from the battles he fought, and signs at him, "Daddy, don't cry, I love you. I'll hug you, and it will be okay."
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deafsignifcantother · 17 hours
Text
Stardom
♥ prompt: them sneaking into your bedroom window to see you - @urfriendlywriter
♥ summary: alastor's childhood best friend is a movie star and they have a bond between emotionally distant ppl awww so cute (she is trying her hardest to express affection but is internally screaming at her fruitless attempts and he thinks it's funny). wrote this as a warmup for an assignment
♥ relationship: alastor x feminine deaf reader
♥ word count: 2.8k
��� notes: reader's mother is a prominent character
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One day, there was a knock at his front door. His mother opened it after drying her hands, stepping away from the kitchen. Behind the door was another mother and child at the door. Alastor peeked from behind his mother, seeing you with your head down. He immediately recognized you when his mom took him to the theatre. You were nothing like you were on the screen. Your timid posture caught him off guard immediately, as did the blank expression on your face. Your mom was there to apologize for your manners after you had continuously thrown your unwanted toys into their yard.
Alastor watched from his window every time you did, analyzing the look of frustration you had. He would smile to himself; his dimples presented themselves to no one but his reflection until, one day, you looked up at him. Your expressions were dazzling to him, though you are the same age, you know more about presentation and physical articulation than he ever could.
You hit the big screen in his teenage years. It was like you were born to be a scene's star. But his fascination with you genuinely deepened when he saw you off-screen with your resting, blank expression. 
.
Flash. Flash flash.
The light drowns you. You cover your eyes with your hands, shielding yourself from the bright glow from your window. The lamps in your room are switched off—of course they are—and you have been trying your hardest to sleep. Tossing and turning is the worst part of stressful nights. 
Behind the beaming light, you see a pair of pearly whites. Alastor watches the smile grow on your face. 'Smile,' that's how he likes to describe it. It's more of a smirk, one that twitches whenever you try and hide it. If he wasn't so close to you, he'd think you were plotting against him, which makes his heart even more drawn to that smile of yours. His closed-off, stubborn demeanor threatens to crack, though he's waiting to see if you'll initiate a peril to the friendship: companionship. His internal struggle, torn between his defensive nature and growing affection for you, is a constant battle. 
"Alastor," you breathe out before opening the window and sliding it up. The night wind shakes his hair, and his button-up is buttoned to the collar. He throws the flashlight aimlessly and it lands on the bed. Once he fully steps into your room, he unbuttons the top and rolls up his sleeves while you close the window behind him. He flicks the lamp on.
"It's midnight," you sign while his eyes lock on your hands. 
"And I wanted to see you. Were you sleeping?"
"No."
"I thought so."
You let out a laugh through your nose. 
Not even an hour pasts before Alastor sits cross-legged on the floor, his gaze fixed on the walls. Beside him, you hold a handful of playing cards, staring intensely at them to see your next move. He has already put his card down. 
"When do you leave?" He signs, gaining your attention. "In the morning or afternoon?"
You sigh, your expression changing, your hands dropping the cards. "Don't think about that right now."
"I will. You know you don't have to go."
"This movie is my chance. My chance to do something extraordinary, something that could change everything."
He just nods. "I understand. And I'm happy for you." The quietness of the room starts to bother him. The only sound is the slight hum of the lamp. Each moment stretched like an eternity as they played cards.
Finally, you reach out, your hand finding his. "I'll come back if living in a damn movie trailer is that bad." You sign, the smallest smile on your face.
"Stardom." He signs.
"Win some, lose some." You chuckle, the sound a bittersweet melody in the stillness of the night. "Beats the weather here."
His smile forms into a lopsided, childish grin. Louisiana summers are the worst, both for the weather and how during that time, your mother would whisk you away to introduce you to filmmakers. Alastor would look out the window at the empty house. Even as a teenager, he imagined you'd return to whisk your childhood toys into his yard. 
More hours pass, after he wins the game (as usual), the weight of goodbye hangs heavy in the air; you find solace in knowing that your absence won't be forever, however long it may seem. You both sit on your bed and read in perfect silence. Your eyes constantly flicker at him, the curve of his nose and the sharpness of his jaw. He's attractive; it almost draws you in.
Before he leaves, you finally go through your closet and throw him a shirt he left behind the last time he was in your room. He doesn't catch it immediately, and it hits his chest; he hugs it.
You lift your chin. "I'm giving it back before it becomes mine."
"Oh, no worries there." His eyes sparkle when he notices the combining smell of yours and his. When you turn to face the closet again, he holds it up to his face and inhales an extended dose. His eyelids droop, his grip tightens. What a lovely scent. He even lets out an audible growl while eyeing the back of your head. When you face him again, you find his eyes locked on yours.
His aura looms within the confines of your bedroom. His eyes are round and youthful, and his forming smile lines are even more visible in the yellow-toned lighting.
"The days are coming to an end." He signs. Your lips tighten, a juxtaposition to his. Beneath your calm exterior lay an intensely beating heart and a distant mind. One person had managed to pierce the armor around your nature.
Alastor, stop thinking about that damn movie.
But the movie is always on his mind. The weight of impending farewells feels like thorns. You're going to disappear from the neighborhood, while your face and your body will be on his mother's tiny television; Alastor knows he won't be able to see the light in your eyes or the individual hair on your brows like he can when he stands close to you. 
When dawn paints the sky in hues of pink and gold, casting long shadows across the room, Alastor stares outside, opening the window, his brown eyes reflecting the colors. 
"Don't fall," you sign while helping him swing his feet past the window seal.
"Will you stay if I do?"
"I don't know, but if you injure yourself my mom will definitely think I did it."
Alastor tilts his head with a twisted grin, which forms into a smile as you squint at him. He slides a bit forward, his thighs off of the ledge, watching your expression. His feet dangle dangerously before his fingers close around the wooden seal. He slides back towards you, lifting a hand to sign. "Just kidding."
With your voice, you jeer sarcastically, "Ha-ha-ha."
After he safely drops next to the tree he used to climb up, his head started spinning, he carries with him the memory of your voice; he had never heard it before.
.
Gosh, did you make it big. Every time Alastor walks to school, he can see your face plastered on the front cover of newspapers. He tosses a nickel at the storesmen, buying a copy each week.
You never ended up coming home, staying in the city to live out your ever-blooming career. But thankfully, your mother adored Alastor and was appreciative that you had such a close friend. Every time you moved locations, she let Alastor know. Both your and and his mother dreaded the idea of you two losing contact.
His mother teases him about you all the time. 
"She's so pretty." "How could you not tell she liked you?" "So, how's that little charmer?" "Maybe you should be in movies, too." "How about you send her some fan mail?"
By his mother's advice, he started writing you letters.
Your mother hands you them whenever she finds them in the P.O. box. With how hot Houston has gotten, the letters are warm once you get them. The stamps were 32 USA, the same image of a timey radio. He definitely has a doctor's handwriting. You've kept each letter in a drawer under your bed, ensuring their safety.
.
Cameras stand poised, ready to capture the magic of the scene about to unfold. Among the hustle and bustle of crew members and actors, you are the one that stands out the most with your fake, radiant smile and the judgment in your eyes.
As the director calls for action, you step into the scene, slipping effortlessly into your role. You immerse yourself in the story. In these silent movies, you have your own unique shine.
Meanwhile, Alastor paces nervously in his hotel room, constantly cleaning his glasses—a nervous habit—and smoothing his hair behind his ears. He has been counting down the days until he can surprise you, a result of teamwork between his mom and yours. With a bouquet of flowers and an old (and very tacky) friendship bracelet, he makes his way to the movie set.
The director waves his hands to signal a cut. All he gives you is a thumbs up. He doesn't know anything else. You breathe, your face falling into its usual, aggressively neutral look. 
With his voice, the director announces to the rest of the crew the schedule for the rest of the day and the time: noon, which means the beginning of the lunch break. All you can do is stand impatiently waiting for a signal of dismissal. The dress you have on is holding your diaphragm tightly, and your headpiece is pinched too close to your skin. This movie is testing your limits.
One motivator that keeps you staying in these uncomfortable positions is representation. You're blessed to be able to be both loved and openly deaf; in this era, others are not as fortunate. In your imagination, one day, you can stand beside Charlie Chaplin and Granville Redmond.
Gosh, what a dream.
As Alastor arrived, he marveled at the grandeur of the production—its sheer magnitude was enough to amaze him. Alone, he navigated through the maze of trailers and equipment until he found himself standing at the edge of the set, watching you and keeping an eye on your crossed arms and hard stare. 
"Cher..." he whispered to himself. And at this moment, he knew he had to see you, see you close, and tell you just how proud he was. Seeing you within a fantasy realm while maintaining your usual glare is beautiful. Your costume makes you look like a princess, but your face makes you look like a queen.
Alastor waited for the perfect moment to make his entrance, ha. And as the director called for the break, he seized his chance.
Once you turn to leave, your eyes widen in surprise, and you see Alastor standing before you, a smile lighting up his face.
"Alastor!" Your hands sign his name quickly. With the grace born of pure joy, you take a step closer, testing the boundaries of contact. You haven't initiated touch with someone in a very long time. Your eyes are locked on the flowers in his hand. He holds them out, and with elegance, you take them. 
"I had to see you," Alastor signs with his now free hands, his face filled with admiration. "I couldn't bear to be away from you any longer."
You gaze up at him through your eyelashes, overwhelmed by the depth of emotion coursing through your veins. You can almost kiss him. "Thank you." After signing, your fingers touch the petals of the bouquet. "What a lovely surprise! What's the occasion for the flowers?"
His thoughts of you are more than just friendly, but for now, he is content to bask in the warmth of your presence. His eyebrow twitches. What's the occasion? You always say the strangest things.
"Just wanted to brighten your day," he replies, his eyes dropping to the flowers. Their vibrant colors perfectly match the costume. 
"They're beautiful, Alastor. Thank you."
You walk towards the door he entered through, and he follows you, letting you lead the way. 
Your cozy trailer now smells of fresh blooms. 
A familiar, harsh glow of fluorescent lights casts shadows across the room, painting your temporary home in hues of yellow and gold. You sit perched on the sofa's edge, fingers tracing delicate patterns on the fabric, your heart fluttering like a caged bird.
Beside you, Alastor sits with an air of casualness that disguised the storm of emotions within him. There's a newfound curiosity; perhaps his mother's words are getting to him. His feelings are uninvited, unintentional, and unwelcomed. His gaze lingers on you, drinking how your eyes sparkle in the dim light, the curve of your fingers soft and inviting. The minutes last for eternities as you sit quietly. There is a faint sound of the people walking outside, and for Alastor, it heightens the tension of you two being alone together.
You have nothing to say. If you even look at him, you worry that your face will flush. His words, I couldn't bear to be away from you any longer, repeat in your mind's eye. His signing is always so delicate, so beautiful. Oh, how you've missed him. You didn't even realize how much you cherished him.
Finally, unable to bear the weight of the silence any longer, he puts a hand on your knee and keeps it there while his other signs. "Your thoughts are loud."
Are they?
You turn to him, your eyes searching his for any hint of truth. "You've caught me off guard," you admit, hesitant to show what you'd consider vulnerability, something you refuse to display. He instantly notices how different your demeanor is from what he knew.
Your gazes lock, the air crackling with electricity as you dance around the ridge of something unspoken, plain, and nowhere near sudden.
With a tentative hand, you grab his wrist and remove his hand from you. You don't let him go. The air seems still. And then, in the space between heartbeats, you bring his hand up to your lips and place a small kiss along his knuckle. The world around him fades into insignificance, and he loses himself. His mother is going to think she's psychic.
You release his hand, noticing the friendship bracelet you had made all the years ago, and it takes him a second before he returns it to his lap.
You sign. "I greatly appreciate this... and you."
Is there a but?
There's a significant pause before your next sentence as if you're going through all his possible responses. "I've missed you dearly."
He smiles. "I'm glad."
The look on your face reads as if you're confessing a secret. All you can do is nod and stand, adjusting your costume. "Good, so how long are you staying?"
.
You found yourself embarrassed at how you acted when he had come to visit. You were closed off in a way you promised you'd never be to him, you know it's due to the months spent away from him (and with annoying strangers). You embark on a mission to express your affection in the most simple, traditional way. On the nights you can't sleep, you spend hours crafting a heartfelt letter, each word carefully chosen. You don't want your intentions to be obvious, but you also want him to be able to infer what you're spelling out.
The summer heat gives you a headache as much as your mother's cocky smirk does when you hand her the letter. You roll your eyes, "Just send this to him."
She looks over the envelope, signing with one hand. "A love letter, huh?"
"Maybe."
She lifts her chin and shakes her shoulders.
His mother opens all of his mail except for the ones you send. Days after your mother sends it, his opens her mailbox and immediately she recognizes your handwriting and the regular postal stamps you use.
When she tosses it on the table in front of Alastor, a bright smile lights up on his face. He opens it carefully to keep your current address intact and his mother watches with a calm smile. His expression softens as he reads the words penned with care, soft poetry that only an artist can write. 
"Is it what I think it is?" His mother asks. 
"Mother." He grits his teeth, and she giggles, giving him mercy for his attitude, but only this once. She's happy to have won in the continuous teasing.
.
Amidst the falling leaves and the whisper of the autumn breeze, when his response letter gets handed to you, you open it as soon as you can. Your forbearing attitude remains intact but your breathing noticeably quickens with the silent symphony of love. It's as enduring as the changing seasons. Fall has begun; you're going to see him again.
With a strange affection, you hold the letter to your chest. You note his last line: "I'll see you soon, my love."
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aitchhdee · 9 months
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Bakugou, who is deaf on one side of his ear always sleeps on that side, so his good ear is facing upwards so he can hear and be alarmed if something is up. He either sleeps on his back or on the side where he can't hear with his good ear free. The only times he sleeps with his deaf ear facing up is with the people he trusts and feels safe. That shows his vulnerable side.
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goldenlikedayl1ght · 6 months
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the lakes - m. murdock
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a/n: hey guys so i've been struggling a lot with the fact that i might have hearing loss (i'm going to the doctor next week) and as always i am projecting, but i am not 100% sure everything in this fic is accurate and for that i apologize. but it's my little passion project and i hope you enjoy <3 as always, comments and reblogs are always loved and appreciated! warnings: hearing loss, hearing aids, tinnitus, reader struggling with being disabled, some parts are more vulnurable and don't have the reader being like overly confident in their disability, matt being soft, some suggestive behavior at the end, kissing, nicknames, pretty pg-13 honestly word count: 3.0k summary: your hearing aids run out of battery, and you're forced to struggle through a day of ringing ears and being deaf. matt helps, as he always does. pairing: matt murdock x hard of hearing!reader now playing: the lakes - taylor swift "take me to the lakes/where all the poets went to die/i don't belong/but my beloved, neither do you."
“Are you deaf?”
“What?”
You’re eighteen, home from college for the first time since fall break. Your family sits around for Thanksgiving, and there are so many people talking. There’s about thirteen people at this long dining room table, and they are all talking at once. You’re sitting next to your sister, but you can’t hear her well.
You know she’s speaking, and you’re sure you’re yelling, but you’re frustrated.
“I said, are you deaf? I repeated myself like, four times!”
You feel your face flush.
“Sorry, I didn’t hear you. You’re mumbling, and it’s loud in here.”
Your sister looks at you like you’re crazy.
“I’m right next to you, and I’m not mumbling. In fact, no one is yelling, either.”
You poke your fork at your sweet potatoes and feel hot, angry tears in your eyes as you avoid everyone’s gaze.
Your mom sits across from you, and frowns, planning to tell you to make an appointment at the student health center when you get back to campus.
She doesn’t even have to. You’ve booked one by the time she says it to you.
At the student health center, they administer a hearing test, and then refer you to a specialist for further testing. You call your mom, crying and she gently comforts you, before driving to the nearest bookstore and picking up a book on hearing impairments and a copy of ASL for Dummies.
At the specialist, they do another round of tests. Your doctor tells you that you do in fact have hearing issues and that you should come back in a year for more testing, to see if your hearing gets worse. For now, you get a doctor’s note that requires all your professors to take your hearing impairment into consideration. The process for getting that applied at your university is painful, and only gets worse through your years there.
Before you get to law school, your doctor tests you again, and tells you how your hearing has been decreasing in quality in the past few years. He says that you’ll need hearing aids to regulate it. You cry because you cannot afford that.
You get captioning accommodations throughout law school, as well as a note taker for certain classes that are entirely lecture based. You still try to take your own notes, but it frustrates you that suddenly you need all this help. Your own notes are incomprehensible and often miss key parts of the lecture as you sit for a few minutes trying to decipher what your professor had said a few minutes prior.
You go into corporate law after law school, choosing to stay out of court initially because you find yourself frustrated that you wouldn’t be able to process all of what’s going on due to the many voices.
You stay at this company long enough to get your hearing aids, long enough to pay your loans, and long enough to save up a good fund for your hearing aid needs.
You quit your job and get hired at Nelson, Murdock & Page as an interim while you decide what you want to do.
With your hearing aids, life isn’t so frustrating anymore. You find yourself enjoying casual chatter and not worrying about processing what your friends are saying. At family dinners, you take your hearing aids out when you’re mad at your family, to which your stepdad, another hearing aid user, always laughs.
And, despite the pay not being stellar at your job, you love it. You love working with people who need help, love fighting injustice, and you love your coworkers.
...
If only Matt Murdock would reciprocate your feelings towards him.
You’ve been dancing this dance for months. You come into work with coffee and stutter when you get to his doorway.
You wonder if he’ll ever know how desperately you want him.
You go about your days quietly, going to the bar with them at the end of a long week. You love your friends and find yourself hoping they know how much you love them.
Karen and Foggy, as well as Foggy’s fiancé, know about your hearing aids since they sit sort of clunkily on your ears.
You don’t tell Matt, though, not at first.
You know how bad it is, to not even tell your blind crush that you have hearing aids. But you’re embarrassed. It makes you sound like an old person even though you’re in your twenties.
But when Matt crawls into your window late at night, bleeding, you don’t even flinch as he crashes onto your floor behind you. You’re reading, your hearing aids out, and he’s unsure why you can’t hear him. Your heartbeat had no reaction, it’s like you don’t even realize he’s there.
He taps you on your shoulder and you turn quickly, and gasp, before starting to sign at him. Even in his disoriented state, he knows you’re doing something with your hands and moving your mouth. At first, he thinks that he might have stuff clogging his ears, but then he realizes you’re signing, probably because you think Daredevil isn’t blind.
He takes off his helmet.
“Matt?” You say, and it comes out a little louder than it should, because you can’t hear yourself to gage how loud you’re being.
He says something, and your gaze focuses on his mouth, where you can barely make out what he’s saying.
“I can’t hear you.” You say, softer now. You reach over to your bedside table and put your hearing aids on. By the time you look back, Matt has passed out on the ground. Oh fuck.
You get your first aid kit and begin to work on his wounds. When you’re done, you pull him onto your couch, now stained with his blood, and watch as he sleeps. Blood covers your hands, and you listen to him breathing.
When he wakes up that morning, you’re asleep on the couch, and when you feel him start to stir. You grab your hearing aids, and turn them on, before watching him wake.
He says your name softly, and you take his hand in yours.
“Hey.. You.. You’re Daredevil...”
“You’re deaf.”
“Hard of hearing. Not fully deaf, just… My right ear is a lot better than my left, but without my hearing aids I’m close to deaf, yeah…”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were Daredevil?”
“I was scared. Scared that… That you would view me differently, scared that you wouldn’t like me as much.”
“I was scared too..”
“When did you start losing your hearing?”
“In college. I realized it when I went home for Thanksgiving, and then it got worse from there..” You tell him. A hand reaches out to your face, and you lean into it, letting your cheek rest in his palm. His fingers trail up towards your ear and gently run his fingers over your hearing aid.
“Thanks for stitching me up.” He says softly.
“No problem.”
“The hearing aid does explain the buzzing I always hear when you’re around.”
“You can hear my hearing aids?”
“Apparently. I can hear a lot of things. I have heightened senses. You use pomegranate shampoo and had red velvet cake for dessert tonight. Your heart is racing.”
Your face flushes.
“I can turn them off if it’s bothering you.”
“How would you hear me, then?” He has a point.
“I just don’t want them to bother you.”
“Don’t offer to hide your disability just to make other people more comfortable.”
You kiss him when he says this, in a careful way. You’re gentle, making sure not to hurt him as you do. He lays there and lets you kiss him, his hands on your face. You realize you had no reason to be scared that Matt might reject you for your disability, because he is the only person in your everyday life who really gets how it is to have a disability that affects all aspects of your life.
You trace the healed scars on his skin as you kiss him gently, careful not to hurt him. You promise that you’ll kiss him more passionately when he isn’t freshly stitched up.
• • •
A few weeks passed after that night. You and Matt start seeing each other more and more as you fall deeper in love. You find it silly that you wasted so many days, afraid of talking to each other and maybe disappointing each other over the fact that you both lack a vital sense.
But Matt never views it that way. You wear hearing aids and it’s perfectly fine because most of the time, you aren’t struggling to hear him and cannot communicate with him, and he can’t see when you can’t hear him.
Instead, Matt loves that he can hear your hearing aids buzzing softly because it always alerts him that you’re there. He can hear your heartbeat and smell you, too, but it’s not quite the same as this soft little buzzing that reminds him often of a bee.
Except for this one day.
You slept over at Matt’s on a Thursday and really, you should have known better. You knew your hearing aids were going to need a battery change soon, but you’ve been so busy with work and with Matt, and worrying about him at night, that you’re tired. So tired that you forget to pick up batteries before your hearing aids die.
You sneak out of Matt’s apartment early, sending him a text that you needed to go get changed before work. Really, you want to avoid the fact that you wouldn’t be able to hear him. But he didn’t respond to your message. You decide that you don’t care at this moment and head out to work, debating the right way to tell your coworkers about your predicament.
When you get to work, Foggy is immediately talking to you, and you are tense.
“Foggy—” He’s not stopping. It sounds like he’s mumbling, and there’s this ringing in your ears. “Foggy, I can’t hear you.” He finally looks to you, and says something, you make it out to be a phrase of confusion. “My hearing aids died.” You tell him. You’re frustrated, and Matt isn’t in the office yet.
You deem this as a blessing and a curse. Foggy goes to tell Karen what’s going on and as you’re settling down for the day, you get a text. You hope it’s from Matt, but when you see Karen’s name, you falter slightly.
‘Hey! Foggy told me what was going on. We’ll have your calls redirected to one of us and you can spend the day doing housekeeping and paperwork.’
‘Thanks’, You respond, “Sorry about all this. I’m usually on top of my battery life.”
“Don’t worry about it. These things happen.”
“Still, thanks. Did you hear from Matt at all?”
“No, he probably just slept in late. He should be in soon.”
You try to ignore your anxieties over his absence even though you know that when he does come into the office, you’ll have to struggle to communicate with him all day.
So, for the first hour or so of your day, you try to get some work done but there’s a light ringing in your ears that’s getting worse and worse as you attempt to try and focus on other things. Everything sounds so muffled. You’re so focused that your teeth grind against each other, your muscles tense, as you attempt to try and block out the ringing in your ears.
You have a feeling that by the time you leave today, those hot frustrated tears will be threatening to pour once more.
You don’t hear Matt as he steps into your office and stands by your left side, where you’re almost completely deaf. He stands there for about ten minutes, trying to get your attention before he realizes the light buzzing of your hearing aids are not there.
You must not have them in.
So his hands find your shoulders gently, and instead of tensing, you actually relax under his touch, because you realize that it has to be Matt. A slight turning of your head confirms it and you lean into his touch.
Neither of you say much for a while, deciding to let your frustration slowly dissipate as you lean into his warm hands. They stay on your shoulders and upper arms, rubbing gentle patterns into your skin.
After a good ten minutes of this, his body shifts to your right side and he leans down, before speaking at full volume, maybe even a little louder, just to make sure you can hear him. It still sounds like he’s mumbling, but you can hear him.
“Forgot your hearing aids?”
“Batteries died.” You tell him. “You never answered me.”
“My phone died. I forgot my charger, too.. Are you gonna be okay to work all day?”
“Mhm..” You smile softly, “You’re gonna have to help answer calls, though.”
He kisses your cheek, and you lean into the warmth.
“Anything for you, sweetheart.” He says, a soft smile on his face.
The day goes by pretty much as you expect it. You spend it doing paperwork and dodging phone calls, your tinnitus gets worse as the day goes on. By the time the day is finally winding down, Karen sends you one final text.
“Matt’s staying a little late to catch up on some work. Want me to walk you home?”
“No, I’ll be fine. Thank you.”
You realize that because she and Foggy are heading home, you’ll be able to sit with Matt, maybe get a little bit of peace. You’re thankful, too, because you’re about to lose your mind over all of this. The ringing is just getting to be too much.
You wait a few minutes after Foggy and Karen head home before you go into Matt’s office. He smiles at you and gestures for you to come in, and you do. You lean against his desk, as he speaks loud enough now that you can hear him.
“I’ll just be a few more minutes, Bee.” Even the soft-spoken nickname doesn't get you out of your funk, too busy wanting to get on your hands and knees and beg God for your hearing back.
That doesn’t usually happen, but every once in a while you ask him for a normal life.
God sends you a blind man as your soulmate, because he must think that the whole thing is quite funny.
“Okay…”
You feel hot tears pooling in your eyes as you bite your tongue and dig your fingernails into your skin. You almost draw blood.
“What’s wrong?” He can tell that something is wrong. He can always tell, and you’re foolish to think anything less of him, and even more foolish to forget his super senses. A part of you bites back a bitter feeling, since you wish you could’ve had super smell, super sight, super taste, anything in exchange for your hearing. You were not given an exchange, only forced to give, with nothing in there for you.
You forget that your boyfriend has super senses and can taste and smell your salty tears and blood in the air. Damn him.
“Loud… Ringing in my ears, my tinnitus is always really bad when I don’t use my hearing aids for a while..” You say softly. “It’s just.. it really hurts...” You confess, tears slipping down your face.
“Sweetheart..” He takes off his glasses and rests them on the desk in front of him. “C’mere..” You can’t hear that last part, but the way he opens his arms gives you the hint.
You sit on his lap, burying your face in the crook of his neck with a shaky sigh. You feel the thumps of his heartbeat and hold onto it, the ringing in your ears slightly muffled by his skin. It doesn’t fix the problem, but it helps.
His hands linger on your body, gentle caresses of your knee or thigh happening here and there. He just wants you to know he’s there, in the same way he desires when everything becomes too much for him.
“”m sorry..” you say gently, and he just hushes you softly, kissing your head. He traces patterns into your skin. He traces words into it as well.
L-O-V-E.
S-W-E-E-T-H-E-A-R-T
He traces your name, his, and your last names.
You kiss him softly, realizing that you might never be 100% okay with your hearing, but Matt will help. He’ll understand. He loves you, and it’s enough to be confident in your future again.
You spend only a few minutes more in the office before you decide to head home, his hand never leaving yours.
You make it back to his apartment and Matt plugs his phone in in case you need to text him and get his attention. You wind up stealing a pair of sweatpants, a tee shirt, and a pair of fuzzy socks. The two of you wind up tangled together on his couch.
Your ear is pressed against his chest as he gently caresses your skin, occasionally moving your hair from your face. He mumbles sweet nothings, and while you can’t hear them, you feel the rumbling vibrations in his chest, and you relish in them. You bathe in the feeling of his heartbeat thumping against his skin.
You fall asleep like this, with Matt touching you and talking in this low tone to make sure you can feel the vibrations of his voice in his chest and in his throat. It’s enough just knowing he’s there. That this thing you thought would deem you unlovable is no match for Matt Murdock, who on your wedding day will throw up the sign for ‘I love you’ in ASL.
For Matt Murdock, who, when you’re taken for loving the devil, will find you and take you into his arms and kiss you so that you know he’s real.
For Matt Murdock, who touches you in all the right ways so you can hear the sounds of your own pleasure.
For Matt Murdock, who will gently trace patterns into your skin when you need to be grounded. For Matt Murdock, who feels himself slipping further and further in love with you and finds himself searching for the soft buzz of your hearing aids when you walk into the room.
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littledovesnow · 3 months
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the sound of snow
request: coriolanus with a girlfriend (wife in this case) who has hearing damange from the war
word count: 2.2k
content warnings: coriolanus being kinda awful in his speech but it's canon sooo, lucky flickerman trying to make a joke (spoiler: it doesn't land well), i think that's it?
a/n: ok i am not d/Deaf/HoH but i do have friends and former classmates who are, and i've done research before writing this. please correct me if i am wrong about anything. i left some things vague (such as hearing loss level), but overall i think it's decent?
also italics are when there's sign language being used :)
also also i had like three title ideas for this but i feel like they're all so bad but i liked this one the best
-----
Coriolanus had first met you back when you were both still wet behind the ears, unsure of how to navigate life after the Dark Days. His family had taken a direct hit when District 13 was no longer, his family’s fortune plundering into the depth unknown. Your family, however, had to face a different setback: a few rather close bomb blasts had stolen a majority of your hearing.
Coming from an affluent family, you were able to afford a private tutor growing up, teaching you and your family sign language, though as you grew old enough you were fit for a hearing aid in the left ear—the only one with enough hearing left to make it worthwhile.
All the while, you and Coriolanus never turned your backs on each other, choosing to let each other in on your trials and tribulations, knowing secrets were safe between the two of you. He had thus learned sign language from being in your home so often, Tigris and the Grandma’am having picked up on some of the more common phrases.
When you were both of age to begin at the Academy, your father fought tooth and nail with the Dean to ensure you were well-equipped with an interpreter when necessary, though you often went without one as you grew tiresome of the stares from your classmates.
During the 10th Annual Hunger Games, you say alongside Coriolanus as you two watched the tributes battle for victory, both celebrating when Lucy Gray was crowned the victor, both unaware of what fate waited your boyfriend the following day.
His stint in District 12 was something you two rarely spoke on, choosing to forget those few disastrous months while you were separated, you back in the Capitol studying at University while Coriolanus learned the hard way what it meant to be a Peacekeeper, to learn what it feels like to betray a friend, to learn what true power felt like.
Dr. Gaul had spoken to you prior to calling Coriolanus back to the Capitol, wanting your input if he would be a considerable candidate for her Gamemaker Apprenticeship, to which you informed her it was one of the biggest honors he would have wished for. Thus, Coriolanus was recalled back to the Capitol, back to you, where he stood alongside Dr. Gaul to prepare for years of Hunger Games, eventually landing as a true Gamemaker as Dr. Gaul began to take steps back in preparation for her retirement.
One day, however, Coriolanus had told her he was interested in becoming Panem’s next president, with Felix Ravinstill gone and no other heirs of the title, an election would take place. It was no surprise to the Head Gamemaker when the blonde brought the idea up, having seen him yearn and hunger for the coveted presidential position since he was fresh out of the Academy.
It came as no shock when he was announced at the Panem’s next president, you alongside of him as the First Lady. The country never knew what would become of the young couple, stars and revenge in their eyes.
-----
Coriolanus knew where he could find you once he returned from the Citadel, having met with Dr. Gaul for the upcoming 25th Hunger Games. He wanted them to be more of a spectacle than usual, to commemorate the quarter century since the end of the war.
He ignored the Avox who had opened the door to the private wing of the mansion, ignored the Avox who had his usual glass of whiskey waiting on a silver platter.
Opening the door to the greenhouse, Coriolanus’ eyes lit up as he saw you carefully pruning the rose bush planted in memorial of the Grandma’am. “Love?”
You looked up, and Coriolanus smiled when he realized your hearing aid was still in. You usually chose not to wear it while at home, preferring the comfortable silence from time to time.
“How was your day?” He asked, helping you untie the gardening smock you wore to protect the clothing underneath.
“It was fine, uneventful.” You replied, looking at the garden around the two of you. “How was Volumnia?”
Coriolanus was still gobsmacked that Dr. Gaul allowed his wife to call her by her first name, only a select few Capitol citizens were granted that honor, though he was one of them.
“She misses you, asked that you stop by sometime for lunch.” Coriolanus mused, plucking a rose out of the bunch in the vase. “Maybe you can help her come up with some new strategies for The Games, she loved your idea of stocking some food in the middle.”
You felt your cheeks heat up, not expecting the silly idea of arming the tributes with food to be such a hit in the Captiol. Betting had been at an all-time high for the tributes who had been able to get their hands on the stale, tasteless protein bars.
“I’ll see if she’s available on Thursday.” You knew the mad scientist would make room any day to meet with you. She had a soft spot for you, no one was quite sure why.
“You can ask her this evening, since we have that awful gala to start preparing for The Games.”
You looked at your husband, clearly forgetting about the gala. “I forgot that was tonight. I wouldn’t have pruned the roses if I had known.”
Coriolanus, who was cold-hearted and strict in public, simply waved off the nonissue. “You wore gloves, a smock, you look as beautiful as ever.”
You pressed your lips to his, disappearing to the bathroom for a shower prior to getting ready.
-----
 Attending Capitol galas and evening events as First Lady of Panem was something you weren’t sure you would ever get used to. Cameras flashing, various news outlets trying to get a snippet of you and Coriolanus talking, microphones in your faces.
Not that they would get anything, as Coriolanus was only going to give hints at his next political plans, life events, anything really, to Lucky Flickerman, who he had become rather close with following his mentorship in the Academy.
“D’you want anything to drink?” Coriolanus asked, lips brushing on the shell of your left ear.
Nodding, you two moved over to the bar for a couple glasses of posca before starting the endless circle of meeting politicians, thanking Capitol elites for their support, and the nagging question of when you two would start a family.
You had eventually been able to break free from the conversation you and Coriolanus were stuck in when Lucky Flickerman himself took the spot in behind the podium, preparing to start the night’s speeches.
Taking your seats, you felt Coriolanus place his arm on the back of your chair, hand brushing up and down the back your right bicep, goosebumps breaking out in the area.
As Lucky began his speech, you moved closer to your husband, whispering in his ear, “I can’t understand what he’s saying.”
Coriolanus looked back at you, noticing the missing hearing aid, eyebrow raised.
“I forgot to put it back in after my shower.”
Without missing a beat, Coriolanus shifted in his seat and began to interpret the speeches for you, ignoring the not-so-subtle looks you two were getting, mainly from newer guests who weren’t used to seeing the president use sign language.
At the conclusion of Lucky’s speech, a Capitol employee scuttled over to the First Couple.
“President Snow, we can have an Avox translate if you’d like.”
Frowning, Coriolanus shook his head. “That’s alright, I can interpret for my wife.”
The employee didn’t seem to expect that response, simply blinking at the couple.
“Is that a problem?” Coriolanus asked, ignoring your hand on his knee.
“N-no, not at all. I just- you’re expected to make a speech tonight, too.” The employee tried to backpedal, not wanting to ruin his career tonight.
You chose this moment to speak up, not wanting Coriolanus to overreact. “It’s fine, Coryo’s quite apt at making sure I know what’s going on. Why don’t you be a dear and get me a glass of wine?”
The employee was quick to leave the conversation, and Coriolanus looked at you. “You’re too kind to them.”
Shrugging, you took the full glass without so much as a glance in the employee’s direction. “Someone has to be.”
Coriolanus let out an airy laugh as he stood up, dusting off some nonexistent crumbs from his burgundy suit. He squeezed your arm before departing from your side, taking his place where Lucky Flickerman had left open, the weatherman-turned-host made sure to give his hand a shake as they exchanged pleasantries.
 Giving everyone a moment to settle down, Coriolanus cleared his throat before beginning, shocking nearly everyone in the room as he used both his voice and hands to conduct the speech.
“The Twenty-Fifth Hunger Games are right around the corner, so I thought I would give you all a twist I’m putting into the Reaping ceremony this year, and potentially the following Reapings. Dr. Gaul and I have had numerous discussions about how tributes are elected, and from prior games being rigged, we have initiated a couple updates to the ceremony and process.”
You were curious of the updates Coriolanus was talking about, unaware he was still dipping his toes into Gamemaking.
“Rather than each District’s mayor or elected spokesperson calling the names, we will have someone from the Capitol pull names. It will eliminate the possibility for rigging the tributes. In addition, who really wants to watch groups of children kill each other? With Reaping eligibility starting at age twelve, the Gamemakers and I have decided to increase the number of entries one gets as they age. When they reach the age of eighteen, each possible tribute will be entered into the Reaping six times.”
You weren’t able to hear everyone’s whispers, but you could see them looking at each other, taking in the news.
Coriolanus concluded his speech by introducing Dr. Gaul’s assistant, as the Head Gamemaker had something come up rendering her unable to attend the gala.
When he returned to your side, you looked him up and down. “Some updates, huh? Whose idea were they?”
Coriolanus had a smirk on his face, simply bringing his glass of posca to his lips.
-----
After all of the speeches were finished, some music began to play, letting the now tipsy and drunk Capitol elite take the dancefloor with eager steps.
Lucky Flickerman meandered over to where you and Coriolanus were still seated, discussing what Tigris deserved for her upcoming birthday.
“Not going to share a dance tonight?” He asked, looking between the two of you.
“Oh, Lucky, you should now, we don’t really dance. Only for the most special of occasions.” Coriolanus smiled, twisting the wedding band around his finger.
You wore a matching smile, though your reply wasn’t quite what Lucky expected. “And besides, Lucky, I’m not the best dancer if I can’t hear the music. You should have seen the first time we tried to dance together in the Academy.”  
The mustached man opened his mouth like he was going to reply, but nothing came out except for a chuckle.
Coriolanus hid his smile behind the glass of water he had switched to, not able to tolerate the posca and wine like he had before.
It was one of his favorite moments after you two had officially started dating. The Academy had their annual prom, though it tended to be more of a fashion show than dance, as many students arrived in extravagant outfits that were ill-suited for dancing.
You had been in a sparking silver dress, heels a gift from your mother, red-tinted lips dropping when Coriolanus asked you to dance with him.
It had been enough missteps to last a lifetime, but the two of you took it in stride, promising each other to get a proper dance instructor before your first dance at the wedding years later.
“I do hate to break up the fond memory, honey, but we should be heading out.”
Coriolanus downed the rest of his water before standing, lending you his arm as you two bid goodnight to your friends and Coriolanus’ closest colleagues, before disappearing from the gala.
-----
You walked out of the bathroom from taking your makeup off to see Coriolanus sitting on the bed, sheets pulled back for your arrival.
“Who are you thinking will be the Capitol’s representative for the Reaping?” You asked, mind still going back to the Reaping updates.
Coriolanus closed the book he was reading, eyes looking you up and down as you climbed into the bed. “I don’t know yet. Why, do you have anyone in mind?”
You shrugged, pulling the sheets up to your chest, yawn escaping your lips. “No one in particular, but I’m sure I could come up with some names.”
Coriolanus laughed, setting his book on the nightstand next to him. “We can talk about it when you’re not going to fall asleep in mere minutes. Goodnight, love.”
“Mm, ‘night, Coryo.” You whispered, letting Coriolanus’ soft breathing and the distant sounds of sirens lull you to sleep.
-----
a/n: hey was this good should i do more in this universe let me know
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dilemmaontwolegs · 1 year
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See No Evil, Hear No Evil {1}
Aemond One-Eye x deaf!fem!reader Summary: Love blossoms when you get to know the sweet man and not the cocky Prince. Warnings: fluff, Aegon being a predator, more fluff. I know lip reading is not easy or infallible but for this the reader is able to read lips almost perfectly. WC: 4.9k
Part One || Part Two || Part Three ||
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Couples were dancing around the space that had earlier been occupied by long tables for the feast, their joyous smiles twisting your gut with jealousy. No one would ask you to join them, not when you could not hear the very music that set the pace.
Returning your attention to the table that you were seated at, you watched the men and women intently. Some glared at you when they caught your eyes on them, waving their hand as if it could blow you out of sight and out of mind. Moving on to the next, you found a single blue eye staring back. 
Prince Aemond. He was another social outcast, though his personality was as much to blame as the jagged scar that ran through his left eye. There was always a taunting smirk on his lips and a cold gleam in his eye, it sent the courtiers vying for the hand of anyone but him. Not even the power hungry, attention seekers dared to subject themselves to his viperous nature. 
His brother captured his attention and whatever spell had kept you enthralled with his stare broke. The two Targaryen princes leaned together and Aemond’s lips pursed as Aegon spoke with nervous mannerisms that warned you they would have been whispering, but you could read his lips. 
“There is something desirable about a silent woman,” Aegon said as his eyes flickered your way. “But I would do anything to make her scream.”
Aemond’s lips pulled back with a sneer before he answered, “I can only imagine the depravities that fill your mind.”
“I do not think you have the creativity needed to imagine them, little brother.”
“Thank the gods for that blessing,” Aemond said as he leant back. “She is too intelligent for you anyhow.”
“Intelligent?” Aegon rocked back with a laugh that drew the others’ attention to him. “She cannot hear and does not speak.”
Aemond turned his eye back to you. “Then she must see a great deal, for there is definitely intelligence behind those eyes.”
“Then I would face her down when I bed her.”
You looked away and wrapped your fingers around the silver goblet so they were occupied and the trembling was hopefully unnoticeable. You had expected no better of the eldest son of the King, he was known to stick his fingers in many pies - though sometimes he didn’t stop at his fingers. 
You might have been deaf to the tales the maids spoke of as they prepared you but you saw everything from the tears in their eyes to the bruises barely hidden by their uniforms. Just the thought of Aegon even noticing you had a knot twisting in your stomach.
Pushing the velvet-lined chair back, you rose from the table and nodded silently to the sickly Viserys. He gave a weak dismal wave of his hand that rested on the arm of his chair and you pressed your fingertips to your chin in return, thanking him for permitting your leave. After flattening the layers of skirts that had creased beneath the table, you laced your fingers together and ignored the two stares that watched your retreat from the dining room. 
The feeling of spiders dancing down your spine didn’t ease, even after you had snaked your way through Red Keep to the atheneum. There would normally be a maester wandering the quiet halls full of books, organising the rows into alphabetical fashion and finding requested pieces for others, but with the late hour it was empty. 
The scent of dust and beeswax greeted you as you closed the door behind you. Someone had been waxing a leather bound book cover and the yellow bar had been left beside a half shiny cover as if they might return at any moment. Walking over to the small table, you opened the cover to see what the book was and found it to be a personal journal of Aegon the Conqueror. 
Warmth touched your nape and your lips parted with a sharp intake of breath as you spun around, your legs tangling in the skirts and your hip hitting the table with a sharp jolt of pain. Aemond stepped back with a smirk, his hands raised in innocence that was betrayed by the amusement in his eye.
“Apologies,” he said. “I did not mean to startle you.”
You rubbed your palm over the bruise that would no doubt be forming and narrowed your eyes at the blatant lie. “I shall rephrase, I did not mean for you to get hurt.” Aemond’s smirk grew until his lips parted and his shoulders bounced with a laugh. “I know you can understand me.”
He reached for you and you froze at the closeness, and his scent that washed over you as his hair nearly brushed your cheek. He smelt of the woods you had run through as a child, pine and earth, fresh and rich. Then there was the fruity yet tarty hint of wine that followed as he exhaled slowly, as if he had taken an equally long inhale of the floral perfume you wore.
As quick as he had come for you, he was gone, Aegon’s journal with him and you let out a shuddering breath as you realised you were not the object he had been reaching for. He seemed to take pleasure in the confusion on your face as he smirked once again and tucked the novel under his arm with a mocking bow. 
His eye lingered on your hip as he straightened. “Take care, milady.”
You could not breathe again until the door sealed shut but you no longer felt the calm that you usually found in the athenium, the books no longer welcoming as the tall shelves towered above you with their dark shadows. Angered by the effect Aemond had in your place of sanctuary, you swiped a book from the closest shelf and made for your chambers and the thick lock bolt that you could hide behind. 
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The courtyard was busier than usual as you took a seat on a stool against the Keep walls. The airy space had become a favourite place to sit since you were not allowed to leave the high red brick walls without an escort. Since this was not your House territory you had to rely upon King Viserys’ white cloaked guards but you did not wish to make a fuss so you had not utilised the soldiers. 
The sky was blue and the clouds that had blanketed the city at dawn were quickly evaporated by the heat and it enticed many others to step into the sunshine. Pulling your small bound notebook from the pocket in your skirt, you unwrapped a stick of coal and looked around for something to catch your eyes. The twin guards, Arryk and Erryk, were huddled close as they entered through the gates and your hand moved across the page.
E: She paid another maid to leave last night in the cover of darkness. That is the fourth this month. A: What did you expect? Bastards don’t belong in the Keep. E: Someone needs to stop him. A: Careful, brother, what you speak could be considered treason.
They disappeared deeper into the Keep and you read over the dialogue trying to understand what they had been talking of when a shadow passed over the page. You slammed the book closed and looked up, momentarily blinded by the bright sun reflecting off the head of long silvery white hair. 
The stick of coal had fallen to the dirt in your rush to hide the page and Aemond crouched before you to gather it, holding it out in his palm. Your eyes lingered on the calluses from hours of training and the thin scars that littered the skin that peeked out from under his tunic. 
You had not seen him since the incident in the atheneum and you had forgotten the connection that had seemed palpable in the days gone by but now you were once again caught by his eye. You had failed to notice the flecks of violet in the pale blue iris when you last saw them but that was in a dimly lit room, in the sun they were almost iridescent.
It wasn’t until he took your hand and unfurled your fingers that you realised how long you had stared, breaking away with embarrassment as he placed the coal into your palm. The hairs on your nape rose under the intensity of the moment and you curled your fingers around the coal gently so as not to crush your writing tool. You slipped the coal back into your pocket and pressed your fingers to your chin.
“You’re welcome,” he replied with a small smile. He reached for your face and your breath froze in your lungs as he ran his thumb softly across jaw. “Can’t have a smudge of coal hiding your beauty.”
You were certain you read his lips wrong but the flutter in your chest betrayed your common sense and a smile tugged at your lips. His eye followed the curve of your smile and he had to shake his head to clear his thoughts before rising to his feet. 
“Care to walk with me, milady?”
You could feel eyes on you as the crowd snooped to see why the One Eyed Prince would be talking to you. You had long ago learned to ignore the stares but for some reason that seemed a harder task today. Tucking your notebook away, you accepted his offer with a nod and let him lead the way to the Royal gardens that were usually off limits.
“I must admit, you intrigue me,” Aemond said after stopping beneath the weirwood tree and facing you. “You and your notebook that you carry everywhere.”
You automatically pressed your hand to the reassuring weight and frowned, wondering where this was leading to.
“May I see it?”
Your fingers tightened around it and you shook your head adamantly. A heat flared across your skin at the thought of him reading your notes and looking at the drawings that you attempted. He appeared within the pages far too often for your own liking. 
“As prince, I could demand it of you,” he said as he stepped closer. The wind changed and caught his hair, flicking wayward strands over his shoulder and the scent of lemon verbena shampoo drifted your way along with the purely masculine musk of sweat from training. 
You walked away, needing to clear your senses that he overpowered much like his very presence in the garden. The notebook suddenly seemed like an anchor and each step was heavy as you took a seat on the edge of a long bench in the shade. From the corner of your vision you saw Aemond sit at the other end, the entire length separating him from you. 
Tap, tap, tap. 
Your fingers tingled with the vibrations as they rested atop the bench beside your legs. 
Tap, tap, tap.
You turned to face Aemond and found his smirk growing as he used his fingernail to tap and scratch the wood. 
“You can feel that, can’t you?”
You nodded your head and his smile grew, transforming his face and erasing the harsh lines that were usually shaped with a scowl. You startled with the realisation that you found him handsome and your palms grew warm as you wiped them on your dress that was suddenly too heavy for the spring weather.
Tap, tap, tap.
You were pulled from your thoughts and looked back at the prince, hoping he could not see the effect he had on you but the intensity to his stare made you feel naked, as if every thought you ever had was laid bare for him to read. 
His lips parted with a sharp intake and he leant closer, though he was still far from reach as he mouthed the word, “Beautiful.”
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There was something therapeutic in being around the horses and you often found yourself wandering into the stables. The servants and stableboys no longer sent you odd looks as they grew used to your presence most days and you were grateful to be left in solitude as you combed the black and grey haired stallion that had caught your eye. 
You had just placed the comb back on the hook that hung beside the gate when you felt vibrations in the wood beneath your hand. 
Tap, tap, tap.
Stunned, you turned to find Aemond resting against the gate with a lazy smile on his face.
“I hope you aren’t planning on stealing my horse, gorgeous.” 
You rolled your eyes and didn't dignify him with an answer as you reached into your skirt pockets and found the carrot you had stolen from dinner the night before. Aemond’s shadow followed you as he opened the gate and stepped inside the stall, his hand landing gently on your shoulder so you were aware of where he was, as if you hadn’t been keeping track.
“No wonder Storm was slow to gallop,” Aemond said as he faced you from the other side of his horse, his hand petting down the long mane. “You have been spoiling him.”
You kept your palm flat as you Storm’s lips pulled back and he greedily took the carrot. The name suited the horse with his colourings of the turbulent stormy skies and you scratched his ear while he finished his snack. 
“As much as I enjoy hearing my own voice, there must be another way for us to communicate.” Aemond stepped around the front of Storm and you frowned as you no longer felt the urge to back away from him as you had in the past. “Teach me the signs I have seen you do.”
You were shocked by his request even though you knew him to be an intellect and a scholar, the fact that he spent so many mornings training to be a warrior seemed to fill you with the idea that he was more brute than student. Your nursemaid had been the one to help you create the secret language but it had never really expanded past what a child might need to convey. You had relied upon written communication but that was only useful with the highborns who were educated, unfortunately most of the servants were illiterate. 
Reaching into your pocket, you pulled out the notebook you were never without and tore out a blank page before he could see what secrets the book held. He watched as your handwriting sprawled across the page and you could see his chest bouncing with a laugh before he took it from you.
He slipped the note into the folds of his cloak with an amused smile, not at all offended by the message you had given him. You smell. Bathe first, then I will teach you.
“I shall meet you in the library, milady, after bathing of course.” He bowed at the waist though his eye never left you and you didn’t see the mocking smile he had given you the last time he had made the gesture. The pale blue orb seemed to zero in on the pulse at your neck, as if he could see how rapidly it raced in his intense presence. “I shall see you soon.”
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Three Months Later
You had seen neither hide nor hair of Aemond as you strolled the halls of the Keep, the tourney for his brother’s name day was about to begin and you did not wish to enter the highborn box alone. Giving up hope on finding him, you followed the few other ladies who were late and slipped into the back row in the hopes your presence would go unnoticed.
The bench seat kept shifting as ladies rose with their garlands, tossing the favours to the lords who asked in hopes they might win their challenge with the luck. Each time they moved you cursed inwardly and settled your heart that pounded erratically, wishing the entire event be over with. 
You were tracing the embroidered floral design on your skirts when a hand waved in front of your face and you nearly fell back in fright. The only person you knew it wasn’t was Aemond, he knew to touch your shoulder to get your attention so as not to give you a heart attack. Peering up as you clutched your chest, you found Lady Reyne looking apologetic as she pointed to the front where the jousting course was set. 
Aemond sat atop his horse, patiently waiting with a smile as he caught your eyes. A thousand questions ran through your head as you rose from the bench and clutched the favour of woven asters and budding chrysanthemums to your breast. You could feel the eyes of the entire crowd following your steps down to the front of the highborn box and past King Viserys, but there was only one that held you captive. 
“May I ask for your favour, milady?”
You nodded with a smile, grateful that you had taken his advice to make the flower crown. When he said that someone may ask one of you, your head had fallen back with a silent laugh before you shook your head, but he had insisted and you could not deny him. 
Casting the favour out, it twirled down the length of his jousting pole until it reached his hand. His smile was brighter than the sun as he pulled at the reins of his stallion and made his way to the lists. His mother caught your hand with a gentle smile as you passed by and she patted the space beside her in invitation. 
You ringed your fingers nervously as you watched Aemond’s armour shimmer in the sunlight while his horse paced, awaiting the drop of the flag to begin the match. Alicent placed her hand over yours, unclenching them and lacing them with hers as she fretted over her son. You could tell she liked the idea of seeing her son facing a jousting opponent as much as you did. You had seen the heinous injuries one could get in the sport. 
Alicent patted your hand and you tore your eyes away from Aemond to look at her as she said, “He will be fine, dear. Aemond is one of the best.”
You nodded and hoped it looked reassuring before you noticed the flag drop. Aemond kicked his boots in the stirrups and his horse took off, kicking a spray of sand up behind him. You barely breathed as he raced along the fence and levelled out his pole, his opponent doing the same. Time seemed to slow as the poles crossed each other and crashed wood against armour, shattering into splinters. 
The air in your lungs exploded from you as you jumped to your feet and rushed to the rail to see Aemond still atop his horse. His opponent was sprawled across the sand but Aemond paid him no mind as he circled back to the rail where you waited and pulled his helmet from his head before shaking out his long hair that was mussed up. 
“Is your heart still in your chest?” Aemond asked as he looked up at you, amusement teasing a smirk on his lips.
You pointed to yourself and curled your fingers over your face before pointing to him, his lips parting with a laugh that shook his shoulders. 
“Why are you mad at me? I won.”
Waving him off, you noticed the next opponents were arriving to request their favours and he shot them a dirty look as they interrupted you. 
“Meet me in the library.”
You nodded and moved away as two ladies reached the railing, missing the smile Alicent had after watching the interaction. 
The tourney would continue all day so it was no surprise to find the athenium empty when you arrived and took a seat on the plush settee. The stained glass windows cast a colourful shadow across the stone floor and you reached into your pocket for your notebook and coal to capture the image. 
You were just finishing with the shading and smudging the shadows onto the parchment with your fingertip when you felt the air shift around your face. A smile was already pulling on your lips when you looked up to find Aemond dressed once more in his finery and his hair still damp from bathing. The citrus tart of his soap teased your nose and you reached for him as you closed your book. 
He let you pull him onto the cushioned seat beside you and chuckled to himself as you ran your hands over his fitted shirt before he caught your hands. “I am unharmed.”
You narrowed your eyes at him until he released your hands to continue to make their own assessment. When you were satisfied that he was not just trying to placate you, you shuffled closer and slipped under his arm that he opened for you in invitation. 
While waiting for his arrival you had been wondering how you could return the gesture he had made for you in front of the entire city and he could sense your unrest as you shifted in your seat. Unable to look him in the eye, you grabbed your notebook and placed it on his lap.
His fingers traced your jaw and turned you to face him so you could see what he had to say. “Are you sure?”
You nodded before you lost your courage and he carefully opened the bound covering as if it were an invaluable, fragile piece of history. He treated it knowing how you cherished it. 
You did not look to see what pages he perused, some drawings and some snippets of passing conversations, but instead watched his reactions. With each turn of the page you knew what he would find and your nervousness grew. The drawings of Red Keep and the Royal Gardens would soon change and he would see himself through your eyes. 
It had not taken long for him to become your muse, in fact in the last few months it had become an addiction. There was not a day that passed where you didn’t want to capture his likeness, sometimes it was when the sunlight caught his hair or the smile that he reserved just for you. 
His lips parted with surprise and you knew he had reached the moment you had first given in to your desire and drawn him content in the gardens. Your palms turned clammy and your heart threatened to beat right out of your chest as he turned each page until he reached the last and closed it.
You swallowed the lump in your throat as he turned to you and you saw his eye shimmering with unshed tears. Of all the reactions, that was not one that you could have expected. Aemond was always so collected and cool until you had peeled back the layers of his self-protection but this was the last mask to fall away. 
You reached for his cheek, cupping the warm skin as you wiped away the single tear that escaped before he closed his eye and leaned into the touch. 
“Thank you,” he said as he opened his eye again, blinking away the rest of the tears before they could fall. “No one draws my eyes.”
You frowned at the statement and he sighed from the heavy breath of air that brushed over your skin. “The artists who take our portraits do so from my right, this,” he tapped his leather eye patch, “makes them uncomfortable.”
Tears welled in your own eyes as you saw the pain he still felt though the wound had long healed. Though it was compromising, you rose to your knees and straddled his legs, shock flitting across his face before fear seeped in as you reached for the leather patch. 
“It is not pretty, milady.”
You circled your palm over your chest and you thought he would deny your plea for permission as he pursed his lips but then he bowed his head with a nod. 
His eye stared intently at you as you traced your finger over the leather that had been warmed by his body heat. The smooth material was softer than you thought it would be as you eased it from his head and bared his scar for the first time. Your breath rushed through your parted lips as you saw the crude line that had carved through his eyebrow, down his eye and across his cheek. 
He turned away and your heart clenched as he hid himself from you but he had to know, it wasn’t the scar that caused your reaction, you were horrified at how he had been hurt so badly. Cradling his cheeks in your hands, you gently guided him back to you but still he refused eye contact.
There was only one way you could show him how you felt and your stomach fluttered at the thought as you pulled him closer and pressed your lips to his cheek, just below the scar. His breath warmed your shoulder as he shuddered beneath your touch and you kissed him a little higher, grazing the skin that changed from smooth to raised. The tension in his shoulders relaxed with each soft kiss and when you pulled back you were able to admire the sapphire that replaced his missing eye without him turning away.
“Are you not repulsed?”
Your brows knitted together in confusion as you shook your head and stood up, instantly missing the warmth of his hands where they had rested on your hips. He watched curiously as you grabbed your notebook from where he had placed it and fished your pockets for the coal. Though you wanted to sit close to him it was not the right place for what you wanted to do and so you took a seat on the settee opposite.
Not liking how far you were away either, he tried to stand and join you but the stern finger you pointed at him had him sinking back into the cushions while you found a blank page. He remained still as you captured his likeness on the page and the colourful shadows of the stained glass window reached his hair. 
You knew of merchants that could recreate colours with ochre and malachite collected from Essos but even with your family’s wealth the rare minerals remained out of reach. You were left with the common sticks of coal and on your name day you often received the finer illustrator of graphite. 
Satisfied by the portrayal, from the long strands of hair that were now dry to the strong jawline that had felt better than imagined in your hands, you rose from the chair. Aemond welcomed you back into his arms and eagerly looked at the page that was still open. His throat bounced with the swallow he took and you chewed on your bottom lip as you waited with bated breath.
He turned slowly so you could see his lips before he spoke, “This is how you see me?” 
You looked at the picture and smiled at the face of a confident, handsome young man as he faced the world without having to hide. Looking back at Aemond, you placed your hand over his heart and nodded. 
His arms pulled you closer as he dipped his head and your body trembled in anticipation. Every nerve ending flared to life when his lips caressed yours ever so softly and your hands tangled in his hair as you returned the kiss with more force. You could feel his smile against you before he gave you what you needed and deepened the kiss, stealing your breath until you broke away feeling lightheaded. 
His thumb traced your tingling lips as you slipped back into the seat, tucked under his arm, and you saw his kiss-swollen lips. You imagined yours looked the same and heat flooded you with the thought of being caught in the compromising state. A sliver of panic grew in your chest, if rumours spread then you would be shamed from your family so you scampered from the chair and brushed your hands over your skirts.
Alarm erupted from Aemond at the sudden change and he watched you right yourself, hurt haunting his blue eye before he too rose. “Please do not regret what we shared.”
You froze, your jaw dropping at what he had mistaken your fear as and against your better judgement, you launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his narrow waist as you shook your head. He curled himself around you until you felt entirely enveloped by his arms and his scent as he buried his face in your neck.
Pulling away reluctantly, he took your hand and placed it on his chest so you could feel the thunderous beat of his heart as it raced. “This belongs to you and I am yours if you will have me.”
His face blurred as tears welled in your eyes, the fierce nod of your head sending them cascading down your cheeks until he wiped them away with a proud smile. 
“I thought of another sign,” he said as he lifted his right hand up so his palm faced you before tucking his middle and ring finger back down. “When you see this, know that I love you.”
You raised your own hand and watched his tremble as you admitted what had been growing with each passing day since that first walk in the gardens. I love you.
Click here for part two.
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