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#yandere family x reader
merchen-aeravellae · 3 months
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Little Princess
Part 1
Yandere Royal Family x Fake Princess!Reader
Warning: yandere, platonic yandere, possessiveness, potion It's my birthday and this is my gift for you, It's 11:59 but it's still my birthday, not edited, tomorrow I will edit it.
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The empire is getting ready for the most important celebration of the year. The imperial family is decorating the palace with gold and silver decorations, and diamond gifts are the sensation of the moment. However, a room that has been accumulating dust for years will be the cause of all plans crumbling.
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Yandere family is excited about the approaching date. Their little princess is reaching the age to debut in high society, and they cannot miss the opportunity to show you off to others.
Yandere family has all the servants decorating the castle, and they have the citizens decorating the village not that anyone is complaining. They have turned your birthday into the most important celebration of the year, always celebrating in grand style without skimping on expenses. You deserve the very best, and this year is no exception.
Yandere family is searching for you all over the castle to drag you along to find new dresses for the occasion. However, you are hiding in every possible place to avoid being found. You argue that you already have many dresses, but they don't care; they still want to buy you more.
Yandere family doesn't realize that you're hiding in the library where the history of the empire and the royal family is kept. You usually don't go there, or rather, you're not allowed to be there, which makes it the perfect place to avoid being sought out.
You tried to enter the room, but it seemed locked. However, you had been living in this palace long enough to learn how to open its doors without the need for a key. You quickly closed the door and pressed your ear against it, listening to several pairs of footsteps in the hallway. You didn't move from that spot until you stopped hearing them. You walked around, observing your surroundings; there were dozens of books everywhere, from the tables to the shelves.
You grab several books out of curiosity, but none capture your attention for long. That is until a series of books supported on the highest and furthest shelf from the others catches your eye it seems like they didn't want these books to be found. You use a nearby chair to reach them.
You read the title aloud, 'History and Genealogical Tree of the Imperial Family.' It's the first time you've read a book related to your family's history. Your curiosity overcame you, and you kept reading until you reached the part about your closest family members.
But it seemed that someone had made modifications to the book; someone had tried to cover up a name. You suppose it's yours since the person didn't do a good job, and you could still see some letters that you recognized as your own name. They had placed your sister's name over yours, and you didn't know the reason for that.
You continued reading to find the reason for this change, and finally, you reached the notes. A chill ran down your spine. In the notes, it was written about the true identity of your older sister and how someone else had been occupying her place for a long time. That person was you.
Yandere family doesn't understand your sudden change in personality; now you're thoughtful all the time, and they are sure you've been crying. Initially, they thought that the decorations and dresses were the cause of your sadness – not good enough or expensive enough for you. However, even after changing everything for something more luxurious, you remain the same.
Yandere family is desperate; they don't understand what's happening, searching far and wide without finding a logical reason. They press you until you can't take it anymore, and you confront them for having hidden the truth about your origins for so long.
Yandere family is surprised and horrified that you now know the truth. They waste no time in finding culprits: was it the servants, the guards, a family member? No matter who it was, their head will be displayed on a pike for the crime they committed.
Yandere family try to talk to you and explain the situation, but you refuse to listen. They are so desperate that they get on their knees to beg for your forgiveness, but not even that works to make you glance in their direction. It is at that moment that they devise a plan to uncover the truth and get rid of the culprit.
Yandere family quickly realized the truth; the forbidden library was unlocked, and it seemed like someone had been lurking around. A book that should have been burned long ago lay on the floor in a corner with all its pages crumpled.
Yandere family already have plans to remedy the situation, but they must act as soon as possible. A few days ago, you tried to escape, claiming that you need to find your biological family and seek answers to your questions. Your biological family may start praying that you never find them; if you do, your adoptive family won't hesitate to bury them alive in the depths of the earth so they never see the light of day again.
Yandere family have you locked in your room now, not wanting to take the risk of you trying to escape again, and this time succeeding. They sought out the most powerful witch in the empire to help them fix the situation. The solution is to make you believe it was all a dream. Initially confused, the witch provided them with a potion and detailed instructions on its usage.
Yandere family gave you the potion in one of your meals. They didn't want to do it, but they felt they had no other choice. At first, you refused to eat, but it didn't last long. Accustomed to having a full stomach, a single day of not ingesting anything made you feel sick. Your room was a mess, and you curled up in a corner. Your older sister tried to approach, but you quickly moved away as far as possible. She looked at you with sadness in her eyes, left the food on the bedside table, and left, locking the door behind her. You didn't take long to start eating.
Yandere family worried when you fell ill, even though they knew it was just the potion doing its work on your body and mind. You stayed in that state for days, and they took advantage of the time to remodel the library. They couldn't get rid of the book because it would be too suspicious, so they simply replaced it with a different one. The author who wrote the notes "disappeared" one night, and they never found them.
Yandere family were relieved when you woke up several days later, confused and unsure of the date. You were scared that your family acted as if nothing had happened. Your room was tidy, and the things you broke were arranged without a scratch. They told you that you fainted while trying on a dress for your celebration, and you hadn't woken up since then.
Yandere family know you won't stay still and will search for the family book in the library again, but this time, they are prepared.
You are confused when you read the book with the family tree; your name is alongside the rest of the royal family members, and the note about you taking the place of someone else is nowhere to be found. Was it all a dream? Everything felt so real; now, you don't know what is true and what is a lie.
Yandere family observe your behavior; you no longer reject them, but you also don't get too close to them. It's progress, and they know that sooner or later, you will come to them.
Yandere family are overjoyed when you apologize. At first, they acted confused, but when you explained that you had strange dreams, and that's why you acted strangely these past weeks, they "forgave you" and asked you to continue with the preparations for your birthday to proceed as usual.
Yandere family shed tears of joy and a bit of envy towards the other eyes watching you when they see you descending the grand staircase like an angel meeting its faithful devotees, blessing them with your presence.
Yandere family "They abandoned you, but we can protect you. The world is cruel, and our greatest desire is to safeguard your innocence."
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Christmas Time: Yandere Buddy Daddies x Teen Delinquent Reader
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The sight of snow behind the luxury condo’s window still felt odd to you
 Even with the fluffy insulating blanket around your body it still felt…weird
You didn’t look at the orange and flower embroidered blanket rustling next to you
With a yawn, Miri poked her head out to look for you
“(Y/n)? W-where oh, there you are.”
She scooched up to you 
Shoving her way past your arms and into the comfort of your blanket, cozying up to your body
The sight of snow behind the luxury condo’s window still felt odd to you
 Even with the fluffy insulating blanket around your body it still felt…weird
You didn’t look at the orange and flower embroidered blanket rustling next to you
With a yawn, Miri poked her head out to look for you
“(Y/n)? W-where oh, there you are.”
She scooched up to you 
Shoving her way past your arms and into the comfort of your blanket, cozying up to your body
“You always up so early… it's like you’re trying to leave me out.”
“I’d never Miri.”
She hummed clutching at your matching pajamas
You didn’t bother looking away from the snow sighing to yourself
“Is this your first time seeing snow?”
It was Re–Papa Rei who somehow quietly slotted himself next to you 
His hair was pulled back and he was wearing a nice suit with little tears
“Another...bad interview?”
“...Yeah…” He forgot that’s what they’ve been telling you two
“So first time?”
“...No, just the first time I’m inside for it.”
You could feel him looking at you 
“I heard…I know…the snow’s really different when you’re not surviving against it.”
You looked at him, listlessly worried for you 
Before turning your attention back to the window
“Alright, everyone! Are special cozy Christmas brunch is ready!”
Miri sluggishly perked up still wobbly with the effects of early morning/night gift giving
Thanks to circumstance Papa Kazuki had to be really roundabout when bringing Miri home
So all three of you spent the night napping irregularly and driving around
Only returning past midnight and forced to open presents early due to Miri’s demand Republic dictatorship
You didn’t mind it, getting more things you’d never imagine yourself holding in three lifetimes
And receiving kisses and hugs from everyone for gifts you don’t remember wrapping
It felt strange
With Miri slowly waking up her and Kazuki’s shouts of a feast almost underway
Beckoning you and Rei to join
With one more look at you, he went stripping off his work attire
It was Papa Kazuki who came to you 
Standing in front of you to block the window
“You too grumpy pants! Come on up you go!”
He made the motions with his hand before he went to grab you
Picking you up with ease as he made his way to the dinner table
you thought he’d put you down once you got there but he carries you still
Stopping before your designated chair
“Uhm Papa-Kazuki?”
“Yes, bug?”
“Can you put me down?”
“Hmmm?”
The blonde-brunette pretended to think 
To which you rolled your eyes
Giving a reluctant kiss to his cheek 
He finally let you down
“Awww you’re so well-behaved. Merry Christmas (Y/n)!”
“Mewwy Cwistmas!”
“Miri take your time and chew your food!”
“Omkay.”
“...Happy Christmas (Y/n).”
You sighed looking down at your plate full of all your favorites
Then back at your…family
“Thanks, guys, uh Merry Christmas?”
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rene-spade · 2 months
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my man isn’t creepy! i | f1 grid
growing up leclerc au !
fem! leclerc! reader x f1 grid, leclerc family
part i: carlos sainz, daniel ricciardo, oscar piastri, pierre gasly & kika gomes
synopsis. when the youngest leclerc finds her partners’ ‘shrine’ of her, but she’s a leclerc so the red flags aren’t all that red
WARNING(s); i like em crazy y’all, obsessive/possessive behavior, implied stalking/shrines, unhealthy relationship dynamics, sexual implications but no smut
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carlos sainz.
“What is it?” You asked, head tilted to the side as you look up at your boyfriend. The Spaniard melted, muttering a curse to himself and running his hands through his thick hair. He felt hot, nervous for what the outcome of this discussion could be.
“Dios mío, ángel, it’s— it is not what you think— nothing bad. I am just embarrassed is all.” He reassured, big hands gripping at your shoulders. But he knew it was a bit bad, even his enabling family members were worried he’d freak you out if you saw. His movements were made to comfort you, but you could tell they were more self-soothing. Arthur had a similar habit whenever you got upset with him, too.
You only frowned, but it fueled Carlos’ panic.
“Mi amor, I will do whatever you ask-! You know this. I will let you in when it’s cleaned, I swear it.” He pulled you into his chest, arms fully embracing you. But you squirmed out of his hold, making him respond with an unhappy attempt to coo you back into comfort.
“You’re hiding something in there, Carlos. This is the first time I’m staying with you in your home since we started dating, let me see.” And at the sight of your big, beautiful, angry eyes, how could he refuse an Angel? With a twitch of his fingers, Carlos unlocked the door without any movement to push it open.
With a short huff, you pushed yourself through the door, only pausing at seeing at the sheer amount of merchandise that covered every surface. It was all you-themed, from posters and cut-outs, down to a body-pillow and even an outfit you’d only worn once for a runway show. There was a glass shelf with your old perfumes, newer ones too, and photos everywhere.
“Carlos….” You began, covering your mouth with your fingers and stepping further in.
“I know—! But I liked you so much before we started seeing each other and I- I am just a passionate man is all, my whole family says so—!” You cut off his red-faced rambling with a beaming grin.
“Ouah! I didn’t know you were a super fan before we met!” You giggled, mumbling to yourself in French about the various things he’d collected. “maybe you are a bit extreme, but it’s kind of cute, no?”
“¿En serio? Sí, mi perla!” He breathed shakily before grinning, “I should have known you’d understand! Mis hermanas se burlaron de mí, ¿sabes? But it was all silly…” (You’re serious? Yes, my pearl! My sisters teased me, you know?)
“What are you saying? Your sisters… something? I’m still learning, mon chéri.” You pout at him, in a much better mood now that you knew what your boyfriend was hiding behind the door he seemed so desperate to keep you away from.
He shook his head, hair messy after having run his fingers through it many times due to stress, “We should have dinner with them tonight while we’re still in Spain, I said. Let’s go back downstairs?”
“Why? Got anything weird?”
“Don’t say things like that, amor!”
♤ ♤ ♤
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daniel ricciardo.
“Danny…?”
“Shit-!” He jumped out of surprise, dropping the box he was reaching from the top shelf of the closet.
“Oh, I’m sorry, mon soleil!” You squeaked, jumping back as well. You hadn’t meant to scare him, but it wasn’t your fault he was so focused in the dead of night. You were just curious is all. The box he dropped was was rectangular in shape, but easily bigger than a shoebox. You shot him a sleepy grin, “What do you have there?”
He sighed, shaking his head, “Why are you up, sleepy girl? Get back to bed, I’ll be right there. Didn’t mean to wake you up.”
“I’m up because you’re up.” You wrinkled your nose, inching closer to him with a small blanket in your arms. You tried to get a glimpse of what fell out of the box, but Daniel wrapped himself around you so you couldn’t see. He wrestled the blanket from your fingers, careful not to be rough with long nails, and threw it over your head with smile.
As you wrestled, your boyfriend only laughed and placed kisses on any part of you he could without being hit by your flying limbs, “Pretty things like you should be asleep. Your brothers would kill me if they knew I disturbed your beauty rest.”
“Are you trying to hide something from me?” You pulled the blanket off your head, hair a mess.
Daniel froze, jaw clenching as he tried to hold a toothy smile. But he didn’t have it in him to lie to you. The moment was completely still, before you finally broke eye contact and crept passed him to see the mess on the floor. You could hear Danny gulp as you plucked the first item from the ground; a pretty, navy blue set of lacy underwear. Yours, yes. But from ages ago, you swore you lost them. Then there were a few pieces of jewelry, a lipstick tube, a silk scrunchie, a press-on nail, a red heel, and two pieces of now-hardened chewing gum. All yours from various points of this past year.
“Daniel,” no, not the first name, he begged internally, squeezing his eyes shut, deciding to just wait for the inevitable disgust and rejection. You never called him by his full first name, only sweet ‘danny’s his way, sometimes ‘mon soleil’ or ‘sunshine’.
“You know you can just ask for my things, yes? You don’t have to take.” You were looking right up at him, navy colored panties still in your hand like you didn’t even mind that he took them. His reasoning couldn’t have been pure, you know that.
You hummed, pulling at his fingers so you can shove the underwear into his balled up fist, “lá.”
“Perfect girl.” He muttered, pulling you back into him and dragging you to bed, “give me the pair you have on then, yeah?”
♤ ♤ ♤
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max verstappen.
It wasn’t always like this with you— you used to be just Charles “track terror” Leclerc’s pretty little sister, a little girl. But now it was years later and you’ve become something perfect and irresistible— something he can’t live without. He knows he’d resorted to some immoral, if not a little creepy, behaviors, but it’s not like he’s one of those guys that would ever hurt you. No, you’re a deity to him. He told his sister about his feelings at one point (even thought about showing her the shrine), but she told him— “This is all because you watched You!” The Netflix show that follows a stalker.
So he took down the shrine— moving most of it into his bedside drawer and the rest under his bed. But he realized he didn’t think it all the way through when he had you in his room for the first time; all pretty and perfect and curious.
“Good race, Maxie.” You hopped back onto the bed, your hair bouncing as you landed, “You’re so tense and for what, huh?”
Max had just a little bit of shame about the whole thing, but maybe not too much. I mean, his body definitely felt some kind of physical guilt or something if you’re judging him by the shaking and sweating— but his mind was happy. You were here with him in his home. In fact, the physical reaction might just be from seeing you curled up in his bed. But you’re close to finding out how… intense he was. (As his mother would say.)
“Sorry, lief, I’m just tired and you’re distracting me by being cute.” He smiled down at you as he began to change, “you need a shirt to wear?”
“Yes, s'il te plaît. Hey, can I put my bracelets in here—? oh!” He’d barely turned his back for a second, just long enough to remove his shirt, but that’s all it took for you to pull the drawer open and see the copious amount of photos of you (some edited to have him in them) and unsent love letters.
“It’s not a shrine— I’m not a creep! It’s just some things I made back before we got together—! You weren’t supposed to see them!” He was trying to shove some of the papers back in, but you were already skimming one of the letters.
“Mijn hart,” he winced at seeing the one you had— one of the more unhinged ones. The worst of it was in Dutch, so that worked out for him at least.
“Oh c’mon, Maxie! It’s kind of sweet! You had such a big crush on me! It’s a little hot, even.”
He grew even more red and fidgety at that, “Shit.”
You giggled at the words you could understand before he wrestled the page out of your grip. You grabbed him and pressed a kiss to his cheek before he could stray too far.
“From Max Verstappen-Leclerc, hm?”
♤ ♤ ♤
oscar piastri.
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“Can’t I just grab a hoodie, Osc?” You questioned as he held you in place on the counter, from his spot between your legs, still in his race suit.
“You don’t need one, Lovey, it’s hot.” He pressed himself into you so he could feel you breathe better. You’d asked for a jacket the moment you’d entered his freezing trailer just after the race. He saw you go for the closet and quickly redirected you onto the counter.
“Non, you’re hot because you just raced in a little car for hours and now you’re all over me. I am normal temperature.”
“Cold?”
“Yes.”
“Then get closer, I’m hot.”
You huff obnoxiously like the pretty spoiled girl you are and Oscar can feel the rush of serotonin he got just from the sound. He knew this is the part where you’d get cute and pretend to pick a fight, his sweet thing. But bad timing— he’s desperate to hide his secret now.
“I can’t get any closer to you if I trieddd. What? You have a girl hiding in that closet? Hm?” He scoffed into your shoulder, but stiffened, knowing just what was behind that door.
You gasped dramatically, likely playing it up to get what you wanted (a tactic you used with your brothers, Oscar noticed), “You do! Irréelle!”
“I don’t!” His face shot up from your shoulder, brows furrowed, but he didn’t let you go, “You know I don’t like any other girls!”
“Then you need to show me so I can be sure! And I’m still cold.” You crossed your arms and pulled your knees together to get him to back up.
“I can’t.” He choked out. “There’s— it’s just— I have this thing—”
You hopped down and booked it across the trailer before he could reach out and stop you, yanking the door open to see what your new boyfriend was hiding.
You breathed out a dramatic sigh of relief at the sight, “Goodness, Osc.” Rather than finding a person, you instead found some sort of… collection? Collage of yourself and your things? Photos mostly, magazines, and lots of hearts drawn on articles about you.
Oscar grabbed you by the shoulders and quickly spun you around into him, slamming the door, “You saw?”
Looking up at him with big eyes, you nodded, “Yeah, why? You really like me that much?”
“What? Yes— yeah I do. You—? Okay.”
♤ ♤ ♤
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pierre gasly. | kika gomes.
“I’m prepared to blame you for this if Charles finds it.” Pierre breathed, looking at the start of his girlfriend’s collection of your things. Kika scoffed, a smile playing at her lips as she re-organizes your makeup. Mostly lip balms, you’d let her borrow some of your things, not knowing she wasn’t going to give any of it back. Kika even managed to get a few skirts from you as well. The small framed photo of you sitting in her vanity was just a personal touch.
Pierre would be lying if he said he wasn’t impressed, but he could say he wasn’t surprised. He and Kika were a good couple, a good duo in general, but especially when it came to drawing you in. Because Pierre was such a good friend to Charles, it came pretty easy; Charles was easier on him around you. Unfortunately, that grace didn’t extend to Kika just because they were dating. Charles had something of a sixth sense for when pretty girls liked his pretty sister; so he was on to Kika. Where at the beginning it was nothing to get you alone with them, it was now next to impossible.
“Pierre? Kika? Are you home?” Wow it’s like they could hear your pretty voice— oh wait they gave you a key. To their apartment. In Monaco, where you live and you can really just waltz in and see all of the things they took (—yes they, Pierre is a thief too—)
Like two naughty school children, the couple shot up to cover what they’d done before you could reach their bedroom. This was their fault naturally, none of yours at all, they were the ones who encouraged you to come over whenever physically possible.
“Grab everything and I’ll distract her!” Kika whispered, rushing to slip out of the room.
Before the ‘not fair-’ could slip from his lips, his girlfriend was off to catch you, brushing passed him and leaving the door cracked. He could hear your surprised greeting, a cute squeak escaping you, before Kika saying something like ‘Oh, Pierre is busy now’, then silence. Pulling the handle back just an inch, he peaked outside to see Kika’s lips not even a centimeter from your own, her hands gripping your jacket for dear life.
“Oh, pretty girls, ce n'est tout simplement pas juste.” Slipped out of his mouth before he could stop it. Your eyes shot to his, but Kika’s remained trained on your face. After just a second, your gaze drifted to Kika’s vanity behind him.
The couple froze, you saw. Pierre pulled the door shut behind him as Kika’s mouth opened to form words.
“Oi! Get your hands off my little sister, huh? Démon impoli et pratique, seriously.” Charles slipped into the living room from the front hallway, having obviously accompanied his little sister in her visit.
“Non, Charlie, Kika helped me when I almost tripped.” You smiled at your brother, quickly covering for them, “I was just coming to see if I could get my jean skirt back?”
You looked up at her so sweet and she thinks you’re blushing—“Oh.” She squeaked, “yes, no problem. Pierre.”
“I’ll get it for her, mate.”
“surveille ta copine. je ne suis pas aveugle, mate.”
♤ ♤ ♤
Your man (s girlfriend) is definitely creepy, girl.
note; I made kika and pierres a lil longer bc they’re two ppl so yeah ft charles
thinking part ii with lando, mick (ft the schumachers), lewis, lance, alex & lily, george and carmen?
- ren
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klemen-tine · 4 months
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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!!!
2K notes · View notes
yandere-daydreams · 4 months
Text
Title: Loving Suffocation.
A Continuation Of This Piece.
Written for a very lovely, very indulgent anonymous commissioner.
Pairing: Yandere!Loid x Reader x Yandere!Yor (SxF).
Word Count: 4k.
TW: Non/Con, AFAB!Reader, Slight Somnophilia, Spanking, Sex Toys, Breeding, Mentions of Pregnancy, Medical Malpractice, Oral Sex, Obsessive Behavior, Slight Gaslighting, Bruising/Marking, and Overstimulation.
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You never did get to see your opera. A lack of oxygen turned your cramped world blurry and abstract, and you faded in and out of consciousness while Yor fussed over your ruined dress and gathered you up in her arms, the strip of fabric she’d tied around your neck and stuffed in your mouth – not quite a gag, but enough to convince your uncooperative vocal cords that calling for help wouldn’t be worth the effort. Sometime between being pulled against Yor’s chest and slipping out of that sex-saturated storage closet, you blinked and by the time you could find the strength to open your eyes again, you were in your apartment, in your own bed, your makeshift gag gone and your wrists bound  behind your back with a generous amount of duct tape. You briefly considered calling for help, but you were past the point of screaming. Even if you tried, the Forgers were your only neighbors close enough to hear, and you’d seen enough of enough of that family for a lifetime.
Just as exhaustion began to overwhelm your better judgement, you caught stifled footsteps in the near distance, heard the door to your bedroom creak open and shut with enough force to shake the drywall. This time, when you closed your eyes, it was in a deliberate effort to will yourself to sleep. An effort that was, of course, rendered futile by Yor’s hand on your forehead, a soft hum too tender to be purposefully deceptive. “I think they might be asleep. The poor thing could barely hold their eyes open.”
“That’s fine.” Instantly, your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach. He spoke quietly, keeping his voice low and airy, but even in worst dreams, Loid seemed to be able to carve out a place for himself. It made sense for him to make an appearance in this nightmare, too. “Can you show me where the damage is?”
You held your breath as Yor’s hand drifted from your face to your thigh. After a moment of hesitation, she nudged you onto your back, pulling the ragged remains of your skirt up to your waist. You fought not to bolt up as cold air washed over your exposed, abused cunt – not to ball your fists as you felt Loid’s narrowed eyes pry into you the way they always seemed to when you passed each other in the hall, when he got home before you could find a reason to get out of the Forgers’ suffocating apartment. You managed to hold yourself still as he clicked his tongue, edging that much closer to the foot of your bed. You could picture him leaning over you, perfectly styled blonde hair falling ever so slightly out of place as he took long, agonizing seconds to evaluate the bruises lining the inside of your thighs, the crescent-shaped marks Yor’s nails had left pressed in your hips, your waist. Calloused fingertips brushed over your ankle, but further restraint was deemed unnecessary as his attention shifted back to his wife. “And you said you found them…?”
“Unconscious,” she filled in. You could hear her shifting her weight, feigning concern as her husband evaluated you. “In front of our building. I tried to wake them up, but they panicked, and I remembered the treatment you told me about for—for hysteria.” She paused, swallowed. “I thought I could help, but I’m afraid I might’ve just made things worse…”
Loid’s response was delayed, put off in favor of inching that much closer to you. The mattress dipped as he rested a knee on the foot of your bed. Don’t move, you repeated to yourself, despite the ever-growing urge to get up and run gnawing violently at the back of your mind. If you pretended to be asleep, you’d only have to tolerate a few minutes of his attention before he got tired of leering at your conscious body. If you pretended to be asleep, they’d leave and you could start to forget this ever happened.
It got harder to be so rational as he reached out, running two fingers over your slit and splitting apart the lips of your pussy, giving himself a better view of your abused clit, your entrance – still pitifully drooling slick. You tried to remember what kind of doctor he was, but any specialties that might’ve come to mind were immediately forgotten as his gloved fingers slipped inside of you. You had to bite back a quiet hiss as he scissored open the sore walls of your cunt, his touch probing and experimental. At least Yor had the decency not to draw it out. “You reacted swiftly and efficiently. Even trained paramedics leave residual damage.” He drew back suddenly, and you fought not to jolt at his callousness. “Can you show me what exactly your…” He trailed off. You could practically hear the curiosity in his voice. “…your treatment entailed?”
Yor made a noise you couldn’t decipher. Loid moved away from you entirely, but Yor was quick to take his place. She settled into the space between your legs, her hands – shaking ever so slightly – taking up your hips, her fingertips near-perfectly aligned with the dark bruises pressed into your skin. You felt her breath ghost over the inside of your thighs, the flat of her tongue run gingerly over your slit, and you bolted upward on instinct, mouth open and ready to—
—ready to have your scream stifled and suffocated by Loid’s palm as he forced his hand over your mouth and shoved you back into the mattress. Unable to claw at his arm, to pry him off of you, you thrashed under his steadfast hold, but he didn’t seem to pay you any mind. Rather, his eyes met yours for all of half a second before flickering to his wife, sparing her a slight nod. “Patients usually react with some level of resistance. You can go on.”
Yor’s eyes widened, but any shock she might’ve felt seemed to melt away at her husband’s assurance. She was more nervous, now that she was performing for an audience rather than assaulting you in the privacy of her chosen hideaway, but the little, tentative movements of her tongue got braver over time, her eyes closing as her hands drifted from your waist to your thighs. She nudged your legs onto her shoulders and latched onto your clit, suckling with just enough force to draw a reaction out of your burnt-out nerves, to leave you trembling and struggling to swallow back pained moans and pathetic whimpers. It hurt – more than anything, it hurt – but she had your body trained, knew just what points to hit to get what she wanted out of you. More than that, your body knew that it wasn’t going to end until she reached her goal, until she had you cumming on her tongue for the— god, how many times would this make? You’d lost track after the first dozen, but even if you hadn’t, it would’ve been impossible to tell, impossible to know what she’d accomplished the first time reality started to blur and consciousness was rendered more of revokable privilege than something you’d ever be capable of holding on to without help. In less than a minute, you were grinding against her tongue involuntarily, the movement of your hips stilted and jerky. You couldn’t have called it a real orgasm, not when any pleasure you could’ve felt was so overshadowed by a searing sort of ache, but Yor seemed satisfied – drawing the back of her hand over her chin as she lifted her head, sending Loid a sheepish smile.
“I just, uh,” she started, drumming her fingers over your thigh. “I just did that until they calmed down. I’m not sure if it helped.”
“I see.” Loid, for his part, failed to let his air of stoic professionalism so much as waver.  “And how many times did the patient reach climax?”
“…thirty?” Yor let out an airy, nervous laugh. “Maybe more. It… It was a little hard to keep track, in the moment.”
“And they’re still so unruly.” He was kind enough to feign concern, to let his tone soften and purse his lips into a thin frown. For a second, you let yourself believe that you’d just stumbled into a bad situation – that he and his wife were under some shared delusion and genuinely thought they might’ve been helping you, but then you caught a spec of crimson on the collar of Yor’s dress out of the corner of your eye and thought better of trying to humanize them. “Would you mind if I took a closer look?”
The question was posed to Yor, not you. “Please do, you’re the doctor here,” she spouted, hurrying to get out of Loid’s way. Loid was more hesitant, his palm lingering over your mouth as his eyes found yours. He was cold at the best of times – his expression often hollow when he thought your attention was elsewhere, his touch enough to send a chill down your spine on the rare occasion he found an excuse to put his hands on you – but the look he sent you as he uncovered your mouth was nothing short of frigid. The threat was clear, albeit ambiguous. You had no idea what Loid was capable of, let alone what extremes he was willing to go to.
But, you knew what Yor could do – you’d caught her in the act.
And you weren’t eager to find out what’d she’d do to you at her husband’s request.
When his hand finally fell away from your mouth, you didn’t make a sound. Rather, you dug your teeth into the inside of your cheek as Loid wrapped an arm around your waist and hauled you onto his lap – his thighs cutting harshly into your stomach. The position was enough to leave your cheeks burning and humiliation tying knots in the back of your throat, but whatever embarrassment you might’ve felt was multiplied ten-fold as his hand ghosted over the buttons lining the back of your dress and your only remaining protective barrier fell away – mutilated fabric now limp and useless beneath you. You started to writhe, but the heel of Loid’s palm found the small of your back, pressing into the base of your spine with just enough force a pained whimper past your lips. Reflectively, Yor moved to reach towards you, but Loid shook his head. “It’s important to test for reactiveness,” he explained, tone flat and steely. “I can take care of bruises and cuts, but lasting nerve damage will make things—” He paused, clicked his tongue. “—difficult.”
“Oh!” Yor clapped her hands together. At least she seemed to sincerely believe that, even if she wasn’t helping you, her husband might be. You couldn’t tell what Loid was thinking, but it couldn’t have been so benevolent. “Is that what you’re doing now? Testing for reactiveness?”
“Exactly.” Loid flashed her a smile. You felt him shift, fish something out of the pocket of his suit jacket. Aching numbness had put you at a distance from his invasive touch before, but Yor’s mouth had done away with that – resurrecting the buzzing sort of hyper-sensitivity that meant you weren’t able to hide the way your hips bucked against his thigh as he slid something sleek and metallic into your drenched pussy. It was oddly shaped – one end tapered and the other flat, small enough to fit in the palm of your hand but still big enough to leave you squirming uncomfortably as Loid pulled back. “Normally, I’d use more intricate equipment, but there are a few experiments I can run on my own.”
You heard nails against metal, a soft click muffled by stiff machinery. After a second of delay, the object inside of you let out an abrupt pulse of pure vibration – harsh and sudden and awful. Your reaction was reflexive, undisguisable. You threw your head forward as you bit back a bubbling, broken moan; waves of intense reverberation beating at the walls of your cunt. There was no time to brace yourself, to grow into the piercing sting – it was already too much. The walls of your pussy clenched around the source of your agony, and before you could think to stifle your reactions, to give them as little as you possibly could, tears were blurring your vision, dripping down your cheeks. Yor cooed, kneeling in front of you and cupping your cheeks. “Poor thing…” she mumbled, before looking up towards Loid. “I don’t think they’re enjoying it.”
Another wave of pulsing reverberation, a jagged cry forced past your lips. “P-please, turn it off, take it out, I can’t—”
It took you a second to process the sound of a palm against flesh, how it might’ve been connected to the bright flash of pain just below the curve of your ass. When you could bring yourself to glance over your shoulder, his hand was raised, his expression stern. The sight was enough to make your heart ache in your chest – a sensitivity which surprised you. You hadn’t thought there was anything the Forgers could do to hurt you more than they already had.
“We’re going out of our way to help you.” It was the same tone he used with Anya when she refused to do her homework or threatened to drop out of her upper-crust academy. Whatever genuine sympathy he might’ve had for you was buried beneath a heavy layer of practiced stoicism and nearly totalitarian authority, turning the words cold where they should’ve been comforting. “It’s unfair to be so ungrateful when Yor’s already sacrificed so much of her time for the sake of your health. Why don’t you apologize to her?”
Again, you heard that same soft click, and the vibrations pulsing out of the object in your cunt doubled in intensity. You let your head fall forward, clenching your eyes shut as you struggled to spit something out. “I… I’m sorry, Yor, I didn’t mean to—”
You were cut off by a sharp moan, the feeling of Loid’s fingers tracing over your slit. Soon, the pad of his thumb found your clit, pushing dull circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves. He let out an airy chuckle as you withered into yourself, your legs spreading involuntarily as your feet struggled to find purchase on carpeting that seemed to be just an inch too far, to ground yourself on something that Loid didn’t even have to try to keep just out of your grasp. “Don’t strain yourself,” he muttered, your unwanted reward for your easy compliance. “How does this—” He pushed a rough pattern into your clit, drawing out a wavering cry. “—feel?”
Miserable. Torturous. The worst thing that’d ever been inflected onto your poor, spent body. You deflated, your chest flattening against Loid’s thighs. “…it hurts.”
This time, he let you finish before pulling back, his palm striking your ass with twice the force he’d used before. You cried out, the noise uneven and anguished, but your pain didn’t seem to rank very high on his nebulous list of concerns. “I’ve already told you not to be so ungrateful,” he said, shaking his head. “Do you know what would’ve happened if we weren’t here to help you?” Another strike, another ragged sob. “You’d be suffering on your own, in excruciating pain and spiraling into your own delusions. If we hadn’t been there to correct you so quickly, you would’ve been unrecoverable.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You were babbling, now, your apologies clumped together and nearly unintelligible. Loid cut in, pointed as ever.
“You’ve already apologized.” Two digits slipped into you, splitting your pussy open. Somehow, the added stimulation only seemed to make his device’s vibration more unbearable. “Now, it’s time to tell Yor how thankful you are.”
“Thank you—” There was no hesitation, no resistance. If you’d been able to, if you hands hadn’t been bound, you would’ve clung to her, dug your nails into her shoulder and your teeth into Loid’s thigh, anything to feel like you weren’t about to fall apart altogether. “Thank you, I’m so— I can’t— Thank you—”
It was Yor, this time – her mouth crashing against yours as her hand found the back of your head. Her tongue slipped past your lips, raking over yours with a ginger sort of tenderness and raking her fingers through your hair, drinking down every little moan and whimper her husband forced out of you with enthusiasm. She lingered there, lips moving gently against yours, as you reached your next climax – the number completely lost on you, now. When she pulled away, eyes glazed over and a dark blush painted over her cheeks, Loid hummed approvingly, fishing his bullet-shaped device out of your pussy and switching it off. Slick dripped down the inside of your thighs, your chest heaving stiltedly against his lap, and you noticed, for the first time, something large and stiff pressing into your stomach. For your own sake, you decided you weren’t going to think about it.
But, like always, Loid was quick to tear even the comfort you found in your own mind away from you.
“You did what you could,” Loid started, with heavy sigh. “But their condition is worse than I thought. It might take more than the usual treatment to set them back on the right path.” A lengthy pause, an arm looped underneath you. With more care than he’d seen fit to show you all night, Loid repositioned you on your back in the center of your bed. You were too exhausted to so much as try to protest. “For cases like this, insemination is the only known cure.”
Yor blinked up at him, more curious than confused. “Insemination?”
“Pregnancy,” Loid filled in. “It can be done artificially, but for cases this severe…”
Your heart dropped into your stomach. Weakly, you tried to sit up, but it was Yor that stopped you, this time, pressing her hand flat against your shoulder and pinning you down effortlessly. “If that’s what’s best,” she chimed, her smile wide and brilliant. “Can I help?”
For the first time, Loid’s expression seemed to warm. “Of course.”
Less than a full minute later, you were slotted against Yor, your head resting on her chest and her arms loosely wrapped around your midriff. Loid had reclaimed his position in the space between your open legs, one hand on your hip and the other toying with his clothes, shifting the waist of his now-wrinkled dress pants down just far enough to free his flush cock – already hard, already leaking pearls of arousal. The sight, paired with the breathy sigh he let out as he wrapped his fist around his shaft, was enough to dash any hopes you might’ve had of a last-minute change of heart.
You squirmed in Yor’s hold, your fists balling around your own near ruined sheets as Loid aligned himself with your entrance. You didn’t realize you were talking until you heard your own voice, fragile and desperate, nearly too broken to be comprehensible. “Please don’t, I—I’m not sick, please don’t—”
It was Yor who hushed you, this time, smiling as she pressed a fleeting kiss into your cheek. “He’s going to help you,” she whispered, tone simpering where you wished it would be sterile. “You can just sit back and relax while we—” She paused, squeezed you against her playfully. “—make sure you’re alright.”
There was a beat of silence, of stillness. Eventually, you managed to stutter out, “I don’t want your help.”
Loid let out an airy chuckle, tracing the flushed tipped of his cock over your slit. “You don’t have to want anything.” He bowed his head, leaning down far enough to rest his lips against the top of your head. “You’ll need all the help you can get, in a few weeks.”
You didn’t have time to protest, not before he thrust into you – sheathing himself to the hilt in a single stroke.
You tried to scream, but Yor’s mouth found yours in a moment, swallowing any fractured noises you might’ve been able to make. Loid didn’t seem interested in giving you time to adjust; immediately falling into a rhythm just as forceful and just as cruel as anything else he’d done to you. It wasn’t a question of if it would hurt, anymore, but how badly. The feeling of his not inconsiderably length splitting open your aching pussy alone was enough to bring tears to your eyes, and his rough thrusts, his shattering pace – all of it only working to agitate the few parts of you that hadn’t already gone numb to his assult. You clenched your eyes shut, willing yourself to go completely numb, but Yor cooed, one of her hands falling away from you only to find its way to the curve of your stomach, her palm soon pressed flat against your skin. “Miss Anya did mention wanting a younger sister,” she muttered, nuzzling into the dip of your shoulder. “It’ll be difficult to hide, ‘till it’s over with. There used to be a single mother working at city hall, but the State Security Service paid her a visit and…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “But I’m sure that won’t be an issue for you!”
“Of course not.” Loid’s voice was breathy, his attention mostly elsewhere. He did his best to stay composed, to maintain that painstakingly professionally air, but you could feel him twitch inside of you, feel his hips stutter as his pace grew that much more brutal. “We’ll be taking care of you. When you start to show, you’ll move in with us, and—” A groan, a pair of tired eyes allowed to close. “—and if you cooperate, we’ll make it so you don’t have to worry about anything aside from the baby. Any added stress will only make the pregnancy more difficult.”
Loid’s hips pressed against yours, Yor’s mouth on the curve of your neck. “Our little family is growing so quickly.” You could feel her grin against your throat, fangs ready to clamp down at the first sign of resistance. “I can’t wait until you’re better. You’ll be so happy, when you’re in your right mind again.”
Your mouth fell open, but anything you might’ve said died in your throat long before it could ever reach your tongue. There was no pleasure to it, no stimulation other than the same grating sensation and the pinpoints of pressure where Loid’s fingertips dug into your waist, but if your comfort mattered to Loid, he would’ve stopped as soon as he saw what his wife did to you. He cursed under his breath, throwing his hand forward and hauling your rigid body that much closer to his. You didn’t have a chance to brace yourself, to trick your pain-addled mind into believing there was anything you could possibly do to get away from him before he went still, something thick and searing flooding into your unprotected cunt. He lingered there, his cum leaking out of you despite your pussy’s futile attempts to cling to his cock, and for the first time, you let yourself think about what they were taking about – insemination, pregnancy, growing families and new siblings. You let yourself acknowledge the weight of Yor’s hand against your stomach, Loid’s hips against yours. You let yourself breath in, holding the air in your lungs for a moment before exhaling and going limp against Yor.
Fuck.
If you never saw the Forgers again, it’d still be a day too soon.
Yor started to pull away from you, but Loid stopped her. “Conception can be fickle,” he started, fighting not to pant audibly. “It’d be for the best if we were…” His eyes dropped to you. “…thorough.”
“Do you hear that?” Her hold grew that much tighter, her smile that much brighter. Her lips ghosted over the shell of your ear. The feeling might’ve sent a chill down your spine, if you still had the strength to be afraid of them.
“Loid’s going to take very good care of you.”
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missglaskin · 5 months
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Yandere Aegon's Conquest (platonic) headcanons
AKA Aegon, Visenya and Rhaenys as your yan!parents + Aenys and Maegor as your yan!Brothers
Characters: Aegon the conqueror, Visenya Targaryen, Rhaenys Targaryen, Maegor & Aenys Targaryen, Orys Baratheon
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Note: Adopted and female!reader, toxic relationships, some interpreted romance/incest, Fire and Blood spoilers
You may have joined the Targaryen family through any of them. Brought to King's Landing as an offer, a hostage from Dorne. Whatever the reason was, you have now become the obsession of three dragon riders.
Naturally, there was some opposition at first. It's enough to keep a whole kingdom together; with lords either bending the knee willingly or by force, having the faith tolerate their marriages, and now they bring a child into the fold who didn't seem to bear much resemblance.
Yet despite widespread opposition, there was utter silence when it became evident what would happen if someone were to comment on your legitimacy. It's frightening to face Aegon's wrath, but he and his sisters combined; downright terrifying. 
They tended to differentiate when it came to ways of parenting. You would have likely been overindulged if it weren't for Visenya, who adopted a stricter role in place of Rhaenys and Aegon. On the other hand, it's Aegon who adopts the role of the meditator, keeping the peace whenever his wives come to disputes.
Orys is the only one Aegon truly trusts along with his sisters and despite Rhaenys and Visenya sharing Aegon's trust, they're not exactly thrilled about sharing you with anyone else. It’s noticed how quickly Orys steps into the role of an uncle, adding more fuel to the gossip (being Aegon’s brother). Like everyone else, he's just as protective and is more than willing to personally handle anyone who dares to cross you. But also similar to Aegon, beyond being protective, he's pretty laid-back. During your younger years, he'd times have you seated on his lap or playfully throw you up in the air.
As mentioned, Visenya is fiercely protective and sometimes may come off as a bit harsh, but her intentions are solely for your well-being. Her kingsguards are not only ordered to protect the king but are specifically trained to protect their little princess. She’s involved in your education, ensuring that you embrace your ‘Valyrian’ heritage. 
Each day she’ll have you rehearse your words, recount the history of your family house, and fulfill all your supposed duties. It’s Aegon and Rhaenys who urge Visenya to give you a break from time to time (not just because they want to spend time with you). Visenya also insists on training you despite her brother and sister’s wishes. Rhaenys thinks your gentle hands shouldn’t touch a blade with Aegon claiming you’re protected enough.
While they might disagree on many things, both Aegon and Rhaenys agree with Visenya's idea of giving you your own dragon egg. Given as a gift on your nameday. And even if the dragon hatches and you may never ride it, they are sure to let it recognize you as their owner; to let it be yours and yours only. Besides it’s further proof to the rest of the kingdom that you’re indeed one of them.
Like Visenya, Rhaenys is very much involved in your life and rarely lets you out of her sighs. She’s much smothering and the most affectionate out of her siblings, known to watch you with great fondness and expect to be praised for even the smallest accomplishments.
Rhaenys takes charge of your wardrobe, dressing you in the colors of House Targaryen and embellishing you with all sorts of jewelry. The many songs she has ensured to be dedicated, praising your elegance and beauty that they are believed to have passed down generations.
That’s not to say Aegon isn’t involved, he is but tends to be overshadowed by his sisters; finding himself stuck in the middle of their disagreements. Despite this, he makes his stance known and will use all types of excuses to steal you away. Aegon goes as far as making you his cupbearer, though while the council members are hesitant to take you away from the king's side. Only Orys dares to have you come and fill his cup.
They often find themselves in childish arguments on who you should ride with. Aegon occasionally claims victory, it helps Baelrion is the largest. In fact, whenever any of the siblings go for a flight, they are likely to bring you along. During their shared flights, they would showcase all sorts of tricks like getting close to the water or letting their dragons spit fire in the open air just to witness the excited look on your face.
Aegon spoils you (rotten) and is ready to fulfill almost all your whims and desires. While he’ll gladly gift you with jewelry and gowns like Rhaenys, Aegon is more inclined to make grand gestures like contracting statues and naming things in your honor. If you were to ask, he'd happily construct a bathhouse, a vast garden, you just need to ask.
Aegon is surprisingly someone you find it easy to turn to whenever you get in trouble, along with Uncle Orys. He's perfectly fine with you doing your own thing, playing away while he watches from a distance.
Despite their occasional arguments, at the end of the day, they are united through their care for you. You mean everything to them, and though each may express it differently, they all just want to see you happy and safe.
Adding Maegor and Aenys into the mix just makes everything more chaotic. While it's not much of a hidden secret that Rhaenys and Visenya favor you, they attempt to keep it subtle. Aegon isn't very adept at hiding it, and there have been discussions where he expresses the desire for you to be his heir instead. However, by the Westerosi tradition, Aenys is the expected heir.
Aenys and Maegor are particularly attached to you, even when their parents clearly seem to favor you. Being a bit older than Aenys, Rhaenys actively encouraged the bond between you two. She always insisted your small self to hold him and it became well-known among the castle servants that baby Aenys would cry until you came at his side. 
The death of Rhaenys threw everything into chaos. Visenya and Aegon, if possible, became even more protective, god forbid if Dorne were to make an attempt (or try to bring you back). You became the outlet for their grief, with Aegon demanding your presence more than ever. Aenys clung to you for comfort, a child who doesn’t seem to fully understand where his mother went. 
A year or two passed before Maegor was born, and he was already different from the start. Aenys, always smaller than the other kids, remained easily carried by your child self even as he grew. You'd lift him up on your back as he squealed with delight, but Visenya would scold you; your back could get hurt and Aenys is heir, he must be expected to behave like one.
Maegor, on the other hand, was bigger than most kids, with round and full cheeks that you couldn't resist poking and pulling. Similar to Aenys, he constantly demanded your attention, but unlike Aenys who cried, Maegor caused tantrums, pushing other kids you interacted with and throwing things until he got the attention he sought.
A rivalry started between the brothers, and more often than not, you found yourself in the middle of it, but it was mostly one-sided with Maegor often starting the conflicts. Moreover, Aegon directed most of his attention toward Aenys with kingdom duties and all, leaving you mostly with Maegor and Visenya.
Unlike Rhaenys, who didn't have the time to mold her son, Visenya did. She made sure that her son knows that it’s his duty to protect and care for you, deeming Aenys as weak in her eyes. Maegor learned to value you above all else. Sparring was no longer necessary, as according to Maegor he’ll be the one to protect you from now. In one incident, Maegor attacked a noble boy who had jokingly insulted you. Aegon and Visenya never punished him, with the excuse that Aegon didn't want to cause a scene.
Aenys, much like his mother, is naturally affectionate. Openly embracing you in front of the entire court or hold your hand as you walk together. Such displays of affectionate were a never-ending lecture from Visenya and Aegon and all it did was fuel Maegor’s jealousy. 
As all three of you came of age, there was a flood of suitors vying for your hand in marriage. Aegon would use any excuse to deter them, but deep down, he secretly wished to wed you to Aenys but he knows Visenya might insist on Maegor instead, further fueling the rivalry between the brothers. The reactions of your brothers toward your suitors only intensifies, with Maegor eagerly challenging anyone who seeks your hand and Aenys wearing a mask of happiness for you while secretly desiring to have you all to himself.
It becomes even messier if the brothers are wed to other women. Alyssa and Ceryse, in particular, feel the pressure to be on your good side, knowing that a gesture from you could sway their husbands in your favor. Despite being married to them, the wives can't shake the feeling of being the "other women". The awkwardness is heightened by Aenys, who insists on you being close to his children, going so far as to let you be one of the first to hold baby Rhaena. 
The family was struck with a moment of grief upon Aegon's death, leaving Visenya as the sole parent. With Aegon, and even Orys, no longer present, Visenya had the freedom to enforce her regulations and expectations without interruption. Maegor, being a wild card, proved difficult to control. Despite Aenys' perceived weakness, he stepped into Aegon's place, not directly opposing Visenya and Maegor but making it clear that you were a line not to be crossed. Your place is to be with him and his family, by his side in council. 
Aegon's death set off a chain reaction, fueling the underlying war within the family that had already been brewing.
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lolita-lollipop · 1 year
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heyy! i just binged some of your avatar works and im so in love 🥹🫶
could i request a neteyam x reader where she goes with the Sully's to the metkayinas and there she is harrassed like Kiri and the Sully boys come to her rescue? like including neteyam, lo'ak and jake 🥺💟
it's totally fine if you don't wanna write it, no pressure 💝
have a lovely dayyyyy ❤️
NETEYAM X READER X SULLY FAMILY (platonic)
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When neteyam had first told you about the sully family leaving, that they were being hunted, including you,  it came as such a shock, you'd known Neytiri all your life, and you'd also known that the goddess of a woman loved this land more than she loved her ikran. You were even further surprised when you learned that jake wanted you to come.
You were there when those Human-NAvi breeds had interrogated Lo-ak , those men yanked your hair and held you up like you were a slab of meat. That was when it all started, with a knife pressed to your throat, and spider being taken away, you knew something big was going to happen. 
You belonged to this family since you were very young, being that your own parents were killed off by the sky people, leaving you as a child with mo-at. Jake took you under his wing, after all, You were only a year younger than neteyam, so they couldn't turn you away. Eventually, sensing the strong relationship between you and their oldest son, you were declared his promised mate. 
Even so, you never truly felt like a part of the family, Jake and Neytiri tried their hardest, but often times you outcasted yourself, trying to prove yourself, trying to show them that they shouldn't regret taking you in. It didnt help that as you grew up, you and their oldest son developed some kind of complicated relationship, something neither of you could explain fully. 
So, even though you loved this land, loved your home, with all of your heart, you left. The clan leadership was passed along to another family, and you all packed up your things, boarded your ikrans, and left. The ride was long, and hard, you didn't dare look back at the forest once you crossed the shoreline, fearing that homesickness would overcome you. 
---
When you arrived at the metkayina tribe's village, you, along with the entire family, were greeted with a not-so-warm welcome, hostility was laced in every word they said. A woman, clearly pregnant, circled around your family, eyeing all of you down. You unknowingly caught the attention of the only son of the metkayina clan leader. 
“Why have you come upon our land? Forest people belong in the forest” she spoke, hissing out the words, and locking eyes with neytiri. boys behind you grabbed at your tail and arms, yanking you about, commenting on how skinny, how frail it was. Neteyam stepped behind you and wrapped an arm around your waist, shooting a look to the greenish-blue boys. 
“We are seeking refuge, and can't stay with the omaticaya clan.” Your father interjected, stepping in front of Neytiri, who was already hissing at the woman for touching tuk. For touching her. Obviously, you all were desperate, the different clans never mixed. 
“Your arms are skinny, along with your tails, you will move very slow in the water. And you have no knowledge of our ways, you all will be like babies.” She grabbed Neytiri's tail, and yanked. You willed yourself not to go forward and push her off. You were just so scared, and so tired, if they didn't accept you, then you would have no where else to go. You clutched neteyams hand tight, just trying to relieve any of the anxiety you had with his presence. 
“We can learn your ways, please. I’m just trying to protect my family.” Jake begged, locking eyes with you for a split second, then with the woman again, they held gazes for a few ominous moments. You stood in the back, wanting to cave in on yourself like a crab. 
“It is settled, my children will give theirs lessons on our ways, and we will give them a home, treat them like your brothers and sisters.”
---
It was rough at first, having to abandon all of your traditions, the way you ate, the way you lived, the way you breathed. But as days passed, you got used to it, proving yourself to be a quick learner, catching on to the way of water fairly quickly. You werent as good as tsireya or anuong of course, But you were certainly ahead of lo-ak.
Once the anxiety of moving left you, you were finally able to appreciate the world around. All the unfamiliar excitements that came with a new home. The water that filled your home, the fish, the sand, the plants, the corals, everything was so… beautiful. That was the only word you could use to describe it.
 Often you wished to live under the sea, be part of ey-wa, you grew to be absolutely fascinated with it.  How the ocean could be full of peace, or rage, how it could be as beautiful as it was terrifying. You didn't think that you'd ever been this content before, in a place that you loved, with the people you loved.  
But, there's always a yin to a yang. And for you, that happened to be the children of the clan leaders. Tsireya was kind, and so bubbly, the two of you got along very well, even being able to call yourself somewhat best friends, you would giggle about the sully boys being idiots or gossip about the village and it's people. 
But… anuong and roxto? They were much less than happy to help you and your family, anuong believed that forest people belonged in the forest (like mother like son), and  as roxto idolized his older brother, so did he. While anuong did harbor some strange feeling for you, which made him cut back on his teasing for you (and only you), he still made it a living hell for neteyam, and lo-ak, and kiri. 
They poked fun at the skinniness of your people's arms and legs and tails, bullying lo-ak for having a hard time, at kiri for being a strange girl, and especially at neteyam, just for having you. 
And you. Anuong couldn't find an ounce of reasoning why, but he hated you, because he couldn't stop liking you. Which resulted in only the most loving teasing and bullying from him  and his goonds. You couldn't tell the difference.
They always knew where to find you most of the time, with your head buried in the sand, or sitting on top of corral with a turtle, or picking seaweed for no reason at all. You had the strangest habits.
Like now, you floated on top of the shallow water, a few seashells sunbathing on your back, your hands stuck in the sand below. You didn't even notice the three boys coming up close, commenting on what the hell you thought you were doing. 
“She's looking at the sand! What kind of freak are you?” one of the boys yelled above the water, pulling your tail up, that you did hear. Your head perked up from under the water, and you kicked his hand away from you. Wiping your eyes, you let out a soft
“Huh?” confusion laced through your tone, you stared at the three, anuong stood in the middle, looking strangely meek, while the one pulling at your tail giggled at your “idiocy”, the sight of them towering over you explained enough, and brought fear to you. 
“Huh?” roxto mocked, splaying his hands out “I said- What kind of freak, are. You. “ he repeated, and as you stood up he got close to your face, and placed a hand on your shoulder, sticking his tongue out and hissing. You cowered back, and shrugged his hand off. 
“I’m not a freak.” you spoke, and began walking towards the village and shore, hoping you could lose them, or they would just give up. They didn't, and instead followed you, tugging at your braids, and your tail. 
“Are you sure, looking at stones, playing with fish. Freak.” anuong was the one this time to speak up, pointing at the little pile of seaweed and seashells on the shoreline. He leaned over, and hissed the word in your face, you were on the verge of tears at this point . Footsteps behind him were swift and soft as they came closer. 
“Back off man, leave her alone” Lo-ak smacked him across the back of his head, coming up in front of you to  serve as a barrier from anuong. He'd known that you weren't the most normal person, but it still pissed him off to no end that people like anuong could walk all over you. 
“Awwww, does the freak need her little brother to come and save her?”The boys around teased and pulled on lo-ak, grabbing at his “baby” tail and poking fun at him, lo-ak was dumb, you'd known this since he was young, he was reckless, and didnt think. But, his recklessness made him strong. But also gets him into situations like this. Where the two of you end up in an equal amount of trouble, tears threatening to spill from your eyes , and lo-akabout to set somebody on fire. 
You automatically felt safer seeing neteyam rise frm the ocean waves, clearly hearing the commotion on the beach, he had been out here with you and lo-ak, but the three of you separated for a short moment. Of course anuong had to start something when he wasnt there to protect you. 
“He said, leave her alone” Your mate shoved roxto back from you and set a hand on your shoulder, anuong raised a brow, but hushed his friend when he began mocking you for needing neteyam to come and save you too. The man you loved  locked eyes with you and grabbed your hand, clearly trying to rub it in anuongs face that you were his. Then, he walked, and lo-ak followed. 
“Demon blooded freaks, all of them. You don't belong here.” Anuong hissed, eyes narrowing at the three of you beginning to walk away. You held onto lo-ak, knowing that the remark would set him off the edge further, trying to pull him back when he turned around. He just shook your hand off, and hurried over to anuong. 
You didnt even care to listen to what Lo-ak was saying, knowing damn well that it would just end with him throwing punches, you were proved right when neteyam left a small kiss on your forehead, and sprinted over to jump into the mix. They yanked tails, and ears, and eventually, you sat in the sand and watched, laughing when they wined. 
When both sides had tired out, and anuong and his little trio had run away, neteyam and lo-ak returned, you already had your lecture prepared, which was just a soft version of what Jake and Neytiri would say. 
“What happened to not causing a ruckus? Dad is  going to kill you.”
“I Wouldn't let them talk to you like that, my y/n, not ever.”
---
You listened to Your father as he talked to the two boys, which turned out to be a lecture exactly as you had predicted, a-lot of yelling and “yes-sir’s”, you were praying to ey-wa that netetayam wouldnt take the blame again as he usually did, knowing that it would only make things worse. But as usual, he did the exact opposite of what you needed, 
“It was my fault, I started the fight. They called y/n a freak,
 told her she was strange.” He spoke, which only made jake angrier that his boys couldn't control themselves. Although he couldnt really blame neteyam, you were his mate, of course, the two of you hadn't completed the ritual, but you were head over heels for each other. Jake would certainly fight a metkayina boy for Neytiri. Anyday. By the end of the lecture, both lo-ak and neteyam were exhausted. 
“Go apologize, he's the clan leader's son, make it count.” lo-ak huffed at that but still walked out, you did feel bad for him, you always did. But there was nothing you could do to change your dad's mind about this. He would just have to do it. When neteyam began to leave the hut, you started sitting up to go talk to him, not before your father could stop him though. 
“Wait, neteyam. How did those other guys look?” 
“Worse.” 
“Good, thats good.”
You laughed. 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
*extra*
Later that day, when the eclipse darkened the sea, the entire family was all inside, eating dinner and talking about their days. You stayed outside, preferring to watch the fish swim at your feet. You weren't upset, per se, just mildly off-put. You didn't think that anoung hated you THAT much. You did notice the loud footsteps behind you on the wooden peer, clearly belonging to your dad, but you didn't say anything. When he sat next to you, and you lay down with your head in his lap. 
“I heard about what happened today, did they hurt you? I'll beat them myself if they did” He threatened, a way-too serious look on his face for him to be joking. You let out a chuckle nonetheless, letting his hand place itself on the center of your back. 
“No. They just made fun of me.” your voice was hushed, and it was apparent you were at least a little embarrassed by the incident. You didn't think you were a freak, you didn't know as much about this place as the natives did, so you were obviously excited about everything. That's the only reason you liked to collect the seaweed or look at the sand. You let out a sigh. 
“Babygirl?” He spoke, beginning to rub circles into your back in a comforting motion.
“Yeah?” You were relaxed now, being in the arms of the only real father figure you've ever known. You swished your hand in the water  below, watching the glowing little guppies follow it around.
“If one of them boys ever speaks to you like that again, punch them so hard in the nose that they won't be able  breathe for a week.” He threatened, making a fist with his free hand and motioning a punch. You just stared up at him and snickered at how serious he was. 
“Okay, i’ll make sure to do that next time” you laughed at the thought of you even remotely trying to fight, you were good with arrows, knives,  and medicines, but not fists. 
“And if you don't want to, call me, or lo-ak, or even better, 
Neteyam” 
------------------------------------------------------------------------------wrote this at 5AM this morning with no sleep, so the grammar is probably not the best quality, however. ireallylikethisfic and I hope yall do too.
Anyway, thank you so much for requesting, I really REALLY enjoyed writing this, it kinda follows similar scenes in the movie and I really like writing like that.
ALSO, thank you for reading:) Have a great day, bye!
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weebsinstash · 14 days
Text
I'm not typically a fan of pregnancy au stuff for hazbin because it introduces a hell lotta new questions, but anyways, I DO find it absolutely entertaining thinking about a Reader who did the nasty with Alastor and had kind of a friends-with-benefits situation with him and he does his whole 7 year disappearing act without warning you or telling you anything at all (assumedly because he did not have a choice or opportunity) and he comes back, knocking on your front door, "say, doll! What's say we mosey on over to our old favorite jazz club to catch up on old times?"
and suddenly peeking out from behind your back is just the cutest little fawn with a head full of curls who is very clearly Alastor's son, clutching at your apron, "Mama, isn't he the man you listen to those old recordings of? He sounds the same"
Alastor feeling this, this WARMTH in his chest as you invite him inside your home and it's completely different from the last time he was there, filled with everything your son could need, his drawings and report cards from that nice school you break your back to afford stuck lovingly on the fridge and a hot home-cooked meal currently cooling on the stove as Alastor's invited for some food... if he feels comfortable. You and him discuss privately where your son can't hear as you get all weepy, "I'm sorry, but when you disappeared, I couldn't... ASK you what you would have wanted... I didn't want to have some kind of, of PROCEDURE and you hate me for it... and even from the very first scan, I loved him so much... he's my entire world... I couldn't even CONSIDER... getting rid of him. He's my beautiful smart baby boy and i would die for him"
Genuinely I think it would be real funny if Alastor is initially quite jealous actually for having to share you with a CHILD, but the more time he spends around the young boy, the more he realizes, oh, this is quite the upstanding young fellow! His mama raised him right and he likes to help around the house, likes to read lots of books, loves all kinds of music, helps his mother on all the crosswords and word searches and puzzle books, and he's smart enough to suss out pretty quickly, "sir are you my father"
and the second your son receives an answer, just, KICKING THE RADIO DEMON IN THE SHIN, "You're a horrible man!! You call yourself a gentleman but you left my mama to raise a baby all by herself!! You're terrible! Incorrigible! Disrespectful! Untoward!--" Your young son is breaking out the goddamn dictionary and synonyms on this man, "you lying, deceitful, devious, DEPLORABLE--"
And Alastor is watching this little kid threaten to beat his ass and not even caring that he's up against The Infamous Radio Demon, just shouting at Alastor until the young boy is absolutely changing colors in the face, getting SO SO upset for his mama that he's ready to FIGHT OVER IT, and Alastor is just, essentially, breaking out into laughter, "oh, so you ARE my son!! Aren't you a gutsy one!! Put JUST a little force behind that next one and it might actually sting a bit!" and pats the boy on the head. That settles it; he's accepted as Alastor's son like THAT
Of course, Alastor now caring for this boy does not come without its... complications. There might be some 'incidents' if you, for example, have other positive role models for your son, other men who are regularly coming around, making Alastor's new position as the boy's father and your not-quite-husband (yet) feel threatened and unstable and encouraging the Radio Demon to 'act out'. You're so happy to have Alastor back in your life that you don't even notice things are a little off until your son starts mentioning things like "Mama where did Mr Thomas go? He used to come by every Thursday to play chess but I don't remember seeing him for a while?" "Mama I know Benson has bullied me and pushed me down and stolen my things but I saw his mom crying outside the bookstore earlier saying he's gone missing and I think we should help look for him" "Mama I know Mr Alastor said we don't need her and he can teach me but I also like my old piano teacher. Could I have some lessons with her and some with Mr Alastor instead of just all of them with him? I miss Ms. Mason"
But like... you don't want to deny Alastor a relationship with his child after they both have already lost so much time and you don't want to deprive your son of his father without a good reason, so you stifle some of your suspicions. It's all for your son's sake, isn't it? And you can't help but, get a little selfish when Alastor insists on taking you and your boy out, going to see live bands, going to local events, taking your son to the county fair and you feeling tears in your eyes as, your boy finally gets to spend time with his father. It's like... it's like you're a real family... you've always wanted something like this, for him, for them, for yourself--
But... Alastor doesn't... see you THAT way, does he? He displays his emotions much differently than you, and there were even times in the past where Alastor himself drew the line in the sand that, oh yes you two were quite close friends, he has such a deep affection for you, but... romantically? Sorry, sweetheart, but no
... or so he thought. Now that he's back, he sees how deeply you love his son and sacrifice so much for him amd how much your son absolutely adores you and how, completely by yourself, without any of Alastor's help, you raised him into a fine young man that... the Radio Demon could see himself helping raise, a boy he can't help but feel a little pride in helping make and, can't help but feel a little sad he missed all sorts of important milestones for. And of course, of course of course of course, he missed YOU ever so much, and when Alastor looks up from his paper to see you at the stove, hair all out of place and your hands messy as you cook a meal for your son and his father, your little boy dutifully helping clean as you go, he can't help wish that THIS was how he spent his last 7 years.
Lucifer have mercy on anyone who tries to disrupt his new utopia of peace and tranquility. Could you even imagine, could you even fucking imagine you and Alastor are walking with your son and nearby TVs snap on and it's fucking Vox, showing your family on TV, talking shit to Alastor, using HORRIBLE language in front of your son--
And Alastor feels his love for you grow all the more as you use your own magic to surge through the television and begin strangling the newscaster right on the air, "DONT YOU DARE SHOW MY SON'S FACE ON TV YOU FUCKING--" and Alastor starts lovingly conversing with his son about how important it is to stand up for your family and your values as the pair of them watch you throw Vox around his recording studio in a frenzied rage, "You and your disgusting Vees always trying to peddle your worthless garbage to kids, you CREEPS!! BABIES DON'T NEED IPADS, RETINOL CREAMS, SKEEYEE DANCE ROUTINES, AND ATHLEISUREWEAR LEGGINGS THAT GO UP THEIR ASS, YOU CONSUMERIST IMMORAL SHELL OF A HUMAN BEING--"
Snapcut to you rejoining your family on the sidewalk with your hair a mess and visible blood on you while Vox is facedown on the floor in his broadcast unable to move before it cuts to a "technical difficulties, please stand by" screen. Alastor is oh so genuinely joyfully smiling, "Now who wants to go and get some waffles? I say we should celebrate any victory over our enemies with some tasty grub!!" and he takes you and your son's hands and is all but skipping down the sidewalk while his hated rival is bleeding out in his tower somewhere. Oh, Alastor will give the Television Demon his own revenge for daring to try and shame the lovely beautiful mother of his child and his beloved boy on that disgusting show. What kind of degenerate uses children for content, let alone threatens their safety? Alastor will be back for him later and do much, MUCH worse than you did.
For now, though? Alastor just wants to enjoy the sight of you and his son sitting in a booth with him while you all scarf down some hotcakes. A family of his very own, huh? How wonderful. If only his own mom were here to see it...
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a-small-safe-place · 4 months
Text
New Addition
Platonic!Yandere Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham w/ Child!Reader
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You knocked on the door of the large house Hannibal had picked out for him and Will to live in. It was out of the way from the town, so it was odd to receive a knock. Luckily, it was Will that answered rather than Hannibal. The other kids in town said the men who lived in this house liked to kidnap badly behaving girls and boys and eat them up like the witch in Hansel and Gretel. But this man didn’t seem scary. He seemed nice as he scolded their dogs for running out of the house.
“Hello, mister, I’m selling chocolate-covered pretzel sticks for my school and wanted to see if you would like to buy one?” You asked, trying to sound confident but sounding shaky instead. He didn’t seem to mind; he seemed happy you were there. “I happen to love chocolate-covered pretzels, but my husband thinks they are too simple to be a good treat. Let’s see what flavors you have.” He begins looking through the flavors you brought when his husband, Hannibal, silently walks up behind the other man. “Who is this?” He asks Will.
“Oh, this is… uh…” You stop him and introduce yourself and again explain why you are there. “This is quite a ways away from the town; surely you did not walk all the way here.” Hannibal questions. “No, sir, I rode my bike. I knew there were a few houses out this way, and I was determined to visit.”
Your determination pleases Hannibal but slightly concerns him. You’re an innocent child. You can’t be out riding your bike on these secluded roads. Will quits digging in the pretzel box, “I have to go get dog food anyway; I could bring you back to town. We will take the whole box of your pretzels since you came all this way out here.” Hannibal seems mildly annoyed by this. You remember that Will said Hannibal thinks they are too simple. Will leaves you alone with Hannibal to grab some cash. “Would you like to step inside? You’ll get sick out there.” Hannibal asks. You gratefully step in. “Your home is pretty.” You observe, earning a soft approving smile from Hannibal.
“Thank you, not many people your age appreciate style. Though you don’t seem like many people your age.” After he finishes talking, you try to stay quiet, and finally, Will returns, giving you the money for your entire box of pretzels. “Now I’m heading into town; would you like a ride?” Will offers. “Yes, please.” You tell him.
The ride back is quiet until he begins to talk. “Most kids avoid our house for their fundraisers. Do you know why?” You glance nervously, “I think it’s just too far.” It’s an obvious lie. “You don’t have to worry about being polite. I know there’s probably a crazy rumor about Hannibal and me.” You stay silent, but the silence is too loud to handle, “All the kids think you and Dr. Lecter like to kidnap and girls and boys and eat them up like the witch in Hansel and Gretel.”
“Well, maybe that’s why I needed all those sweet pretzels, so Dr. Lecter and I could finish building our cottage made of candy.” He seems a little sad at the revelation of this rumor. “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have said anything.” He smiles and says, “Don’t worry about it. You could make it up to me by telling me how this rumor got started.”
“One of the boys that graduated high school last year told his little brother that he broke into your home on a dare and found human meat in the freezer, but he couldn’t go to the police because he was trespassing and he was high.” You finish explaining. Will smiles a bit, but it has a nervous edge this time, “Do you think we eat bad girls and boys?” You think about it, “no, because you had a bunch of times where you could have killed and eaten me.”
“Are you a bad kid?” Will asks teasingly. “I don’t know. I get in trouble sometimes. My house is in town away, in a trailer park.” Will knew which trailer park. It was “the bad part of town” he knew because he saw the crime statistics for that area and the number of times the cops are called out there. He had seen them the few times he and Hannibal helped with the local law. Hannibal had gotten close with the town’s political figures, and Will had basically been made into an honorary detective with the law enforcement. This town was corrupt to its core, but it was away from the prying eyes of the FBI, and it’s the only place Hannibal and Will could agree on geographically. Will’s only stipulation was that there were good places to fish.
Eventually, you make it to the trailer. Will waits until you make it inside. He cannot help but think about Abigail. He could have had a potential family with Hannibal if things had gone correctly. He was happy with Hannibal and the dogs, but something about you made him want more.
Weeks pass, and he does not bring the topic up to Hannibal. Little did he know Hannibal had been keeping an extra close eye on you. He did it under the guise of getting more pretzels for Will and then special ordering one of the unique flavors that you did not have so he could come back around to "check on the order." Will finds this all out when you see him in the store and give him the order Hannibal had placed.
"That kid from the other day gave me the order you placed," Will says placing the box on the table. "I thought you hated junk food."
"I do; they were a surprise for you. You seem to have taken a liking to the child." Hannibal observes. "They're a good kid. They kind of remind me of Abigail." The room becomes silent for a second too long. Hannibal hates it when Will brings up Abigail. "You seem to like the kid too. You went out of your way to find them to order the pretzels when there were plenty of easier options to order from." Hannibal knows he has been caught.
"They're a well-behaved child, very polite. Like Abigail." Hannibal says somewhat pointedly. "Have you thought about us expanding our family? Not with another dog, but with a human?" Hannibal asks before Will has time to respond to the first statement.
"I hadn't, and then that kid came knocking at the door, and since then, it is all I can think about. But I don't want any kid. Our kid from the trailer park seems to be the best fit; it has to be them." Will explains, hoping that Hannibal will understand.
"Then so be it; they will be our child for us to protect," Hannibal says as if this is a normal conversation.
As the two men begin to work on a plan to add you to their family, their fatherly love for you grows more into fatherly obsession. You're their kid; no one gets to hurt you. Once you're safe and comfortable in their home, no one but them will get to be around you until they know you love them just as much. Hannibal wastes no time putting your room together with all of your favorite things. They were going to make your room the same way it is in the trailer until Hannibal saw the state of your room and became disgusted by the idea of that kind of room being in his expensive house.
Will tries to make a plan to make your transition to their house easier. He finds all kinds of games and activities you are sure to love, even the ones that Hannibal is convinced are bad for your growing brain.
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harmonysanreads · 1 month
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The "darling being able to see Sunday's high-Fe social mask and avoids it" is so funny.
Because Sunday probably ends up thinking that you will be someone who he doesn't have to pretend around, he can be more free around you because you can see through him. I can even see the attraction being platonic at first before turning into something darker.
But because you can see through him, you know that there's something dangerous about him under that ethereal, beautiful appearance. There's no way you're getting yourself involved with that. Sunday simply wants someone he can be real around :')
But you keep on running away from him :')
-💅
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merchen-aeravellae · 1 year
Text
Little Princess
Yandere Royal Family x Fake Princess!Reader
Part 2
Warning: possessiveness, platonic yandere, my english is horrible
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You grew up as the youngest princess of the Lichen Empire, being the youngest of 4 siblings, you grew up too protected and pampered. Even so, you were always kind to everyone, everyone considers you the light of the empire.
°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●
Yandere family! that pampers you too much, you once stared for more than 0.1 second at a blue diamond necklace (very rare and expensive on the mainland) and the next day it was in your room with matching earrings.
Yandere family! that overprotects you too much, you can walk on the castle grounds but one of your brothers has to always be with you and if you want to go beyond the castle walls, only the most experienced and loyal guards can be your escort.
Yandere Family! when your nephews were born, you became very protective of them growing up and instead you became their favorite aunt and in a way they turning yandere is your fault compared to the rest of your family.
Yandere family! when you escaped to take a closer look at the town, the royal family almost did a massacre thinking that a neighboring kingdom had kidnapped you, you rushed back to the castle when you heard the news of a possible war.
Yandere family! that after this event, they hired spies to watch you without you realizing it, you always feel eyes on you but you consider it paranoia and you just ignore it.
Yandere Family! that they are not the only platonic yanderes for you, the townspeople adore you very much and would be willing to sacrifice themselves for your happiness and safety.
Yandere Family! they were surprised when one day a young woman arrived saying that she was the true princess of Lichen and that a few minutes after she was born, she was exchanged for the daughter of a peasant who gave birth on the same day as the Empress.
Yandere family! they didn't believe her and called her crazy, they almost beheaded her for telling lies about their little princess but the royal council stopped them from doing so. Instead they used magic to check the blood types and your blood came out 0% related.
Yandere family! that when they discover that you are not the real princess, they feel hurt and devastated by not having any blood relationship with you but that does not prevent them from continuing to treat you as before, on the contrary, they fill you with more love, jewels and gold.
Yandere family! that they never told you that you were not of royal blood, for fear that you would try to leave, they also threatened the servants and guards so that they would never talk about it again.
Yandere Family! that they made up a story of a lost sister who had returned to her home after recovering her "lost" memories, you were surprised but glad to have another sister.
Yandere family! that they were surprised that the real princess has also turned yandere for you in the short time that she was with you being Yandere for you runs in their blood.
Yandere father! who consents to all your whims without hesitation, would invade kingdoms if you asked him to. "Everything my little princess wants will be hers"
Yandere mother! that she buys you all the jewels and dresses you want, she poisons the other noble ladies if they speak ill of you. "Talking ill of the princess is a sin punishable by death"
Yandere siblings! that they would make an alliance with the new princess to keep away all the people who get too close to you. "They don't deserve to be in your presence, we better drink tea together"
Yandere nephews! they would be the little spies of their parents to know what you are doing all the time without suspecting and you are their most trusted person. "aunt, let's play in the garden, aunt, you would never leave us would you?
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Are you still doing the yandere family series?
I am!
But I'm so happy that your interested
Since a new chapter is in the works
I'll give you a little snippet
🖤🖤🖤🖤
A Promise for the Future | Yandere Family
Victor wasn’t often left to wander in the Froth home. Usually Michael or Yulia would take the lead; taking him to play games or listen in on their plans. But they were called away leaving Victor to explore hislove's Michael’s room. 
He admits he was digging deeper than he meant to but he silently cheered as he found many things that helped him understand his love friend. Boxes filled with various baby trinkets, and letters probably meant to never be read. After taking a sneaky look behind him and at the door he began to read. 
“Dear Yulia, 
Your too young now to realize it but our mother is wretch. Today I witnessed the disrespect she showed your beautiful painting of our family. I can’t describe how much I’d love to strangle her but I won’t since you like her so much. 
Baby (Y/n) has been fussy lately. I think its cause their teething or maybe they just like attention. Unfortunately I don’t have time to tell since mother and Dad are pretty fixed on this Appleworth plan. If you ask one day I’ll tell you but for now just know that we need to be friends. At first I thought the purple haired kid named Victor was-”
His reading was cut off by the frustrated cooing two rooms over. He fought with himself. He really wanted to read what his Michael had to say about him but he desperately wanted to investigate. He put the letter back in its place, restoring the hiding space to the best of his abilities before scampering in the direction of sound. 
He knew it was the sound of the baby (Y/n). Even so his heart fluttered and heat tickled his cheek as he came closer to the nursery door. He had seen babies before but as an only child all he got was the limited view from a few parents in his mother’s circle. 
Finally turning the knob he let himself in. Filled with the soft smell that only babies seemed to have. Frustrated gurgles came from the wiggling baby in the cradle. Taking a nearby stool he carefully stood up before looking down at the little (s/c) baby looking up at him. 
“Hi there baby!”
Vincent thinks your the cutest. Its just as Michael rants about when he’s happy, a baby with bright (e/c) eyes and chubby cheeks. He resisted the urge to pinch them. Even as he made kissy and silly faces nothing seemed to distract you, as you continued to fuss. He didn’t know how to pick you up so he picked his brain for what he found comfortable. 
Finally remembering what he could he decided to climbed over the cradle railing. Watching his feet as he in next to you. He happily sniffed in your overwhelming baby-scent as he scooched closer. Breathing in deep he began to rub the baby’s belly. Frustrated to contented coos he happily watched as your eyelids began to droop. Watching you intently, he let his urge to kiss at your plush cheek take over continuing to rub at the baby’s belly. Soon he too began to slip away falling asleep alongside baby (Y/n) with full-intentions to help Michael. He planned to protect you if not for his own ambition than for Michael.
Yandere Family (original series) Masterlist
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zeke-best · 1 year
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dabi: i don't care about my family
dabi when he thinks about his family:
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klemen-tine · 3 months
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White Whale Part 2
Platonic! Yandere Batfam x Deaf!Male Reader
A continuation of this one.
https://www.tumblr.com/klemen-tine/736839222321922048/white-whale
Thoughts
Sign/Morse Code
Speaking
Trigger Warnings: Disability Discrimination and a mention of suicidal thoughts. Its like on sentence.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Y/N sat near the window, his processors off and a book on his lap. His attention was drawn to the snow falling outside and covering the ground in white, watching Damian walk Titus around the yard to experience the frozen water. Not like the giant dog hasn’t walked in snow before. 
He pressed his forehead against the glass, feeling the freezing melted sand press against his skin and without a doubt making it red. His tan was slowly fading, which made him all the more depressed whenever he looked in the mirror, now resulting in him wearing long sleeves in the hopes that he wouldn’t have to see it fade faster. His finger running down the spine of his book over and over again, tracing over the embroidered words and his short fingernail picked at the strings. 
Y/N pulled away from the window, before Damian could see him, and he set To Kill a Mockingbird down on the lamp table beside the small nook near the window. It was his secret little stowaway, one Y/N knows that if they wanted to, his family could find it easily. There is nowhere in this manor that is unable to be discovered by them. He thinks Alfred is helping in keeping this spot a secret. Assuring the bat family that Y/N is safe and there is no need to tear apart the library to look for him. 
All the windows in the library are sealed besides three, and those have sensors on them. Even if they didn’t, Y/N wasn’t stupid. He knows that those trackers he had dug out from his body are back in him. There is one in his inner thigh, deep enough that if he were to take the same scalpel he used the first time, the chance of nicking his artery was a higher possibility than he felt was worth risking. 
Sometimes, when he presses down on the soft skin, he could feel the cold metal sear his muscles and capillaries, reminding him of his captivity without the chains. 
Y/N connected his external processors, and winced when the world began to make noise. There was the buzz of some lightbulbs the hummed in the air and the heater was making a thrumming noise. Before his ‘trip’ to the Dominican Republic, Y/N would have thought that this was quiet. He would have believed that this was almost silent and there was little chance of it becoming any more quiet. 
Now it was just loud. Obnoxiously so. 
Looking out the window once more, Y/N couldn’t help the turn of his eyebrows and the downturn in his lips. Even his safe place felt like a cage. 
Walking out of the room, he zigzagged through the bookshelves and into the main room, where the large couches, the fireplace, and coffee table are. The fire was crackling and popping, the bright oranges, reds, and yellows casting a warm glow on the sofas. 
“I was wondering when you’d come out.” Y/N didn’t even look at Tim, his gaze still on the flames and the burning embers of the fire. It matched  the heat that was beginning to burn in his chest whenever he was around any of them. It’s embarrassing, but it took Y/N a few days to realize what exactly it was he was feeling towards them. 
Anger. Y/N was so, undeniably, pissed at all of them. It got to the point that he wouldn’t even eat with them. Alfred, the kind man he is, would bring his meals to his room and Y/N would eat there. Dick once tried to drag Y/N out of his room, but he got a solid kick to his leg and Y/N’s enraged voice screeching at him to get the hell out of his room. 
Even Jason was receiving the cold shoulder. When he tried to read to Y/N, taking their usual spot and position, Y/N just scrunched his nose and moved. Ignoring his twin’s call and slamming his door hard and  loud enough that it made his processors ring. 
Tim sighed, watching his brother stew and brew like a shaken pepsi bottle, ready to erupt with words that will stick to the skin. Y/N didn’t acknowledge him, his jaw clenching and nose scrunching, before he turned away and left the library. Tim stood up and followed him, jamming his foot in between the door and the door frame to stop Y/N from shutting him out. 
“Go. Away.” Tim pushed into the door, and even though he and Y/N are about the same size, Tim is Red Robin. A vigilante used to put down villains twice his size and three times his weight. Y/N is just… Y/N. He muscled through, inviting himself within Y/N’s room which he took a scan of. 
The window was closed, the bed was made, the desk clean, and the laptop locked. When he had gotten back, his laptop had been installed with monitoring software, allowing everyone access from the Batcomputer to see what Y/N was doing. His phone had been given the same thing, only the child settings were enabled. His bags, duffle, suitcases, backpacks, all of them had been taken and if he ever needed them then he would need to go to Bruce. 
If Y/N had anything to say, he didn’t share it. When it was all explained to Y/N, he wasn’t even looking at them, or Bruce, and instead was staring out the window. Damian believed that the other didn't even listen to them, but the lack of questions proved he had heard them. 
“We really need to talk, Y/N.” 
“No, go away. I don’t want you in my room.” Tim sighed, watching Y/N seethe in front of him. He held firm, “I will leave, once we talk.” Y/N rolled his eyes, “About what? There is nothing to talk about.” Those raging E/C eyes followed Tim’s every move in his space, and if it were any other time, Tim would have been thrilled to have Y/N’s attention on him. Those eyes focused only on him. 
Tim sat on the chair in front of Y/N’s desk, ignoring Y/N’s scandalized expression and instead taking in the desk. All of Y/N’s writing tools, journals, pens, and markers have been confiscated. Instead, he only had the iPad to write down his thoughts and notes for when school starts. An iPad that is monitored. 
Y/N seemed to accept that Tim would not be leaving, but that didn’t mean he was happy about it. Scrunching his nose, he disconnected the processors, pulled them off of his head, and debated about chucking them at his brother. He tossed them on his bed. He saw Tim deflate from the corner of his vision, and when those E/C eyes filled with irritation and smugness met Tim’s blue eyes, Y/N couldn’t help the vindictive smirk that formed on his face. 
‘Bruce wants you to keep those on.’
“What do you want, Tim? If you have nothing good to say then get out, I want to nap.” Tim nodded, adjusting himself so he had space to sign. 
‘How long are you going to keep pouting?’ Y/N’s face scrunched and he stared at Tim in disbelief. Not in disbelief that he said that, but disbelief in that that was what he wanted to say at this point in time. He could feel a headache forming and the rage building in his chest to the back of his throat. The words scorching the sensitive skin and making him feel as if he was about to catch fire. 
“I tell you to have something ‘good’ to say, and that’s what comes out of your mouth? Get out, Tim.” His brother stayed in the chair, and Y/N marched over and grabbed the collar of Tim’s shirt. Which, if he had a clearer mind, Y/N would have not done that. It only allowed for Tim to grab his wrist and maneuver them so that it was Y/N who was pinned. 
Icy blue eyes stared into boiling E/C eyes. Tim sighed, releasing Y/N so he can sign, ‘It is getting out of control, Y/N. I can understand a month, but you are pushing three.’ 
“You can’t tell me how to feel or how long I can feel it.” Tim looked ready to throttle him, and Y/N hoped that Tim rolled his eyes enough that they got stuck like that. 
‘Y/N, just what was so important about that shack that is keeping you acting like this?’ Y/N pushed Tim, startling his younger brother and if he was calmer, Y/N would also be startled. He’s never been a violent person, choosing to look away when things got bloody in a movie or show. However, the spike of rage and aggravation he felt towards Tim and the situation had made his body move before he could really process it.  
He glared at Tim with a new rage, and now he had wished he had thrown those external processors as the so-called genius. He balled his fist, “It wasn’t the shack! It wasn’t the ocean, it wasn’t the country, for fucks sake Tim, it wasn’t even then whales!” Y/N reached across his desk and threw a copy of Alice in Wonderland at the other. 
He ignored the annoyance when Tim caught it. 
“It wasn’t any of that! It was what you all took away! It wasn’t the sun, it wasn’t the outside, it was the ability to make my own decisions!” Tears burned Y/N’s eyes and he wondered just how many nights he spent crying and wishing for a chance to escape. 
“Why… why am I the only one who doesn’t have any say in how I want to live me life?” Tim set the book down on Y/N’s bed, and walked closer. Y/N stepped away, “Why am I the one who is held here like some kind of… prisoner when everyone else can go and–and do what they want?” 
Tim’s heart broke, ‘No, no Y/N. You’re not a prisoner, we just want you safe and the safest place is here.’ Y/N gave him a look of exhaustion and disappointment, “What else is this then? Where else are people monitored to this extent?” Prison. Hell, Arkham doesn’t even have this level of monitoring and Gotham’ worst and craziest people were there. 
Y/N knows that all of this is done out of some sick and twisted form of love, but if this was love then Y/N wanted no part of it. 
“Y/N,” Tim winced. He didn’t feel bad about what they have done for Y/N, but he did feel bad that it was somewhat affecting Y/N like this. It wasn’t their intention for Y/N to feel trapped, but Y/N just doesn’t get it. The world is mean, cruel, and horrible to those who don’t fit in. Tim, Jason, Dick, Damian, Bruce, the entire Bat clan knows this because they are the ones out there and witnessing this. 
They all know just how awful this world can be, so why would they not want to protect Y/N from it? 
“Dinner is ready.” Tim’s attention snapped to the door, where Damian stood. Y/N’s attention also turned to Damian, and the boy softened under Y/N’s hurt gaze. 
‘Alfred made your favorite.’ Y/N wanted to bury his head in his hands. He didn’t want to read this conversation anymore. Pursing his lips, Y/N plopped down on the edge of his bed and looked out the barred window. 
“You say I am not a prisoner… then am I a pet?” He mumbled, his voice barely above a murmur. Damian moved further in the room, so Y/N can see his hands at least. 
‘Of course not. You are our most prized person.’ Damian didn’t see Y/N as a person. It is cruel to admit and he had almost been choked-out by Jason when he said it out loud. Y/N, in Damian’ eyes, was the Wayne’s family most prized possession. Next to the Batcave, the library, the Barmobile, and even Wayne Enterprises, Y/N stood next to and in front of it all. They could not function without him. 
Like every prized possession, like diamonds, sapphires, and jades, they wanted to protect him. They gave him the best care they could and the best security. The difference was that jewels don’t have opinions or a desire to roam the earth. Something Y/N did have, and Damian blames the books for that wanderlust. Specifically that Moby Dick book. 
When Jason took it from Y/N, Damian had to stop himself from throwing it in the fire. It was a first edition, the cover and binding still the same from when the book was first published, and if he looked closely he could see the faint line where Y/N has traced the spine of the book numerous times. Damian knows there is only one person in this world Y/N hates, which is the Joker, and Damian does not want to be added to the list should anything happen to that book. 
Still, it was tempting. 
Damian has read the book, and the lesson was as obvious as an East Gothamite amidst the upper echelon of Gotham. Damian knows what Y/N’s ‘white whale’ is, and he can’t help but to wonder why Y/N can’t draw the same conclusions like everyone else did. 
Just like the story, Y/N will drive himself crazy trying to obtain something that they will never allow. Diamonds, sapphires, and jades are always protected by glass cases and security systems. That is how Y/N should see this. 
‘Your safety is the most important thing.’ 
“More than my happiness?” Damian and Tim stared at Y/N with the answer clear in their eyes, but Y/N wanted to see them say it. He wanted to see them admit that they did not care for his happiness as long as he was trapped within these thick walls and gilded windows. 
‘You were happy before.’ Y/N sighed, “That is because it was an illusion.” E/C eyes, dull and lacking emotion, “Tell me Dami, how can I go back to that illusion when in the morning it is the sun’s reflections off the bars on the windows that wake me up? Or the feeling of those trackers in my body replacing the collar you all want to put around my neck?” 
++++
Bruce stared at the photo, taking in the smiles and the way those eyes used to shine. Y/N always had a great smile, full of his emotions and rarely ever fake. His eyes always the most expressive, and it is why Bruce found it easy to see when he was lying. 
Granted, in Y/N’s defense, he’s never had a real reason to lie before. He was open with everyone about his thoughts, opinions, and desires. Bruce made it that way. Bruce swaddled him in the comfort that only he and the family could provide in order to make it so Y/N would always rely on them for that. He made it so Y/N would never have to lie, or feel the need too. 
Then Y/N just had to get curious. Bruce doesn’t know who is to blame for this sudden defiance in Y/N, but he does put a lot of blame on those ocean documentaries. Even when he was young, Y/N always had a fascination for them. Watching them over and over again, reading the subtitles, memorizing them, so now he can just watch the documentaries while already knowing what is going on. 
His attention turned to the photo he had bought from that photographer in the Dominican Republic. Y/N was freediving and looking like he was in his element. 
Bruce didn’t feel bad for taking Y/N back, but he did feel bad about cutting a hobby short. There was denying that Y/N was a natural at this sport, and Bruce had always wanted to encourage each of his kids’ interest. 
But not this one. Not one that meant Y/N had to live far from them and was dangerous. At least with vigilantism, Batman was there in case anything turned south. There was no one in the water for Y/N in case something happened. Free diving is dangerous, and the ocean is unpredictable. Bruce can’t help Y/N if he goes free diving, especially if he goes alone. 
Sighing, Bruce rubbed his forehead and checked the surveillance cameras one more time. Y/N and Dick were in one of the study rooms. From what it looks like, Dick is trying to talk to Y/N who was standing next to the windows, looking away from the other. 
Perhaps, it’s about time Bruce steps in. Y/N hasn’t talked to him since the day Bruce grounded him, about two months ago and the other has done a great job in staying out of Bruce’s radar. The only time Bruce has seen Y/N in person is when he goes into Y/N's room at night after patrol to make sure that he is still there. A new fear unlocked that one night, when everyone is out and Alfred is asleep, Y/N will disappear once more. 
No one knows how Y/N got out that one night, and no matter how many questions were asked, Y/N never said anything. Damian had tried bargaining with him, telling him that if Y/N told them how he got out then some days of his grounding would be taken off. Y/N huffed, a bitter smile taking over his face. 
Bruce rose from his desk, shutting down his computer and leaving his own study. It is about time he and his son have a conversation. One sided or not. 
He walked over to the study room that Dick and Y/N were in. Halting before the door and listening to the voices coming from inside. 
“Y/N, I am telling you that no one is going to believe you after the stunt you pulled.” 
“But you will be with me. Dick, I just want to go to the beach. We did it all the time.”  
“Mmm, and look how that ended up.” 
“Me being happy for a few months.” 
“You’re still on that, Y/N?” Bruce opened the heavy doors, silencing the conversation and causing two sets of eyes to land on him. Dick was leaning against the desk, and Y/N had his back to the window. Both of their faces showed their surprise and confusion, until E/C eyes flickered to the ceiling and the corners of the room where he saw the cameras. Confusion became annoyance, rolling his eyes and turning back towards the window. 
Dick and Bruce made eye contact, and when Bruce nodded his head towards the door Dick didn’t fight it. He took the hint and walked out, sparing Y/N and Bruce one last look before shutting the large oak doors. 
Y/N refused to look at him. Bruce walked closer, behind the desk and next to Y/N, standing next to the window. 
“Y/N.” His son moved to pull out his external processors, but Bruce grabbed his wrists within his large hands, effectively stopping his son. Bruce set his jaw, “None of that, we need to talk.” 
“I don’t want to talk to you.” 
“Then listen.” Y/N scrunched his nose and furrowed his brows, glaring at Bruce. The older man sighed, but held his grip on those thin wrists, noting that Y/N had stopped tugging his arms and was in fact waiting for Bruce to start talking, “I understand that you are upset, and that you are upset at us for meddling.” Y/N raised an eyebrow, his face slowly smoothening out and his lips no longer in a pout. 
Bruce sighed, releasing one of Y/N’s wrists to push aside his bangs. Gently brushing his son’s forehead and pushing the rest of the strand behind his ear, minding the processing unit resting behind Y/N’s ear. 
“And I know you’re aware that if you had asked, we would have said no.” Y/N’s lips pouted once more and his eyes became a little downcast. Sadness blanketing over him and Bruce felt a bit bad for revealing that, but Y/N knows it already. 
“Y/N, why are you insistent on wanting to be independent? There are millions of people in this world who still wish for their parent’s support, and thousands of people who would give up everything to have a life and opportunities that you have.” Y/N scrunched his nose, feeling guilt curl in his chest. 
He knows that he is lucky. Y/N is aware of how fortunate he is to have all that he has and then some. He knows that there are people in this world who would kill to have what he has. 
Yet, just like there are millions of people who want what he has, there are also millions of people who strive for their independence against their family. Millions of people who take pleasure in making choices that affect only them. Millions of people who don’t let their disabilities define their life, and learn to accept and live with them. 
“I am aware that I am fortunate, that my deafness has only been a part of my life instead of completely defining it,” Y/N acknowledged, turning his attention back to outside where it was beginning to snow. He ignored his reflection, not wanting to look at the weak person in front of him. 
“I am grateful for all you have done, along with Alfred and everyone else. No amount of ‘thank you’s’ will ever be enough. But Bruce–” Y/N turned his eyes once more to Bruce, E/C eyes meeting ocean blue, “– No amount of money or gadgets is going to deny the fact that I am deaf. 
“I am reliant on you all for a lot of things, and you raised me that way so that I can forever depend on you. Which… I know it wouldn't bother some people but it bothers me.” Y/N’s eyes shined with unshed tears, as if the very thought of having to rely on them was shameful. 
“I am not fragile, nor am I glass. I am from East Gotham, just like Jason.” Bruce is aware of that. Like every East Gothamite, the both of them had the stubbornness that made Bruce question if he had a lineage that tied him back to that part of town. Y/N is strong in his own ways, and stubborn in others. Bruce will agree on that. He will agree that Jason and Y/N are more like brothers than those Bruce has seen when blood related. 
However, Jason and Y/N are not the same. They were different pieces cut from the same cloth. Jason was shaped and molded to withstand the toughest and dangerous situations, to be durable and take a beating. 
Y/N was not molded like that. Y/N was refined and polished to be treated gently and kindly, to only know the kindest hands and gentlest of uses. 
“And I know that compared to the rest of you, I am weaker. I… I am not strong like you or Jason, I am not fast like Damian, nor am I as smart as Tim, or charismatic like Dick.” Bruce’s grip tightened on the one wrist he was still holding, wanting to deny everything Y/N had said because he hated hearing Y/N self-deprecating himself like that. Y/N is kinder than any of them, easier to talk to, and has almost the same amount of medical knowledge that Alfred has. 
Y/N is the normalcy they all crave for when they come back from a patrol or mission. He reminds them in the gentlest ways that they are human. They are not just vigilantes, not another person hiding behind a cowl, a cape, or a domino mask. He reminds them that they are brothers, friends, allies, a father (in Bruce’s case). 
“But just because of that, do you really have to control every part of my life? I wish you had more faith in me to let me go and learn to be strong on my own, just like you do with everyone else.” Y/N stared up at Bruce with a hurt expression, E/C eyes staring into Bruce’s blue eyes through those lashes that normally would be able to grant Y/N anything he wished. A simple bat of those lashes and eyes would have everyone running around trying to do as he wished. 
“Y/N–” 
“If you can’t trust me, at least trust yourself that you taught me well enough to be by myself.” But the thing is, is that Bruce doesn’t trust himself. He’s failed so many times and he fears that this one failure will be the one that breaks him. It’ll break the boys, the girls, Alfred, him. It’ll break everyone. 
Y/N doesn’t realize it, and Bruce wonders if it is because he doesn’t want to get it or he just doesn’t. He wonders if Y/N chooses not to see his importance in this family so the burden doesn’t feel as heavy. If anything should happen to Y/N, Bruce can’t guarantee the safety of Gotham anymore. He couldn’t guarantee the safety of his Robins, past and current. If Bruce couldn’t protect literally the easiest person to protect, then who was he to try and protect a city? 
Y/N, sensing Bruce’s hesitation and unease, tried to withdraw his hand from Bruce’s grip and shrug off the hand that was resting on his cheek. His hopes and wants crashing onto the carpeted floor, replacing his chest with anger and disappointment. He's been feeling those two emotions a lot lately. They are carving its way in his chest like it is their new home, and he wonders if it will be. Will he hold onto these feelings for the rest of his life as he stares out these large windows and reminisces what the sun felt like on his skin and the breeze through his hair. Does the biting cold still turn his nose and cheeks red, and does the heat and humid summers still make his freckles pop and skin gleam?
“...Forget it. I… it was stupid to ask that of you.” The raging inferno of anger died, filling his chest with the smoke of its fury and his stomach warm with the dying embers. A new emotion, one he is intimately familiar with, filled him instead. It is one he knows like the back of his hand, an emotion that is more of his identity than his deafness. 
Sadness. 
It is like a steady stream, filling the smoking cavity in his chest with cold water, putting out the embers and making that smoke turn to steam. Burning his muscles and organs with a painful sting, and filling his person with ice cold water instead of the burning fire. Y/N knows sadness. He knows the emotion well and sometimes it reminds him of a scar. Never truly gone, just sometimes forgotten. It sits at the back of the mind, hiding behind the good times, the happy emotions, until it is accidentally hit and it draws your attention. From there, it is no longer at the back of your mind, but all you can think about. 
Sadness, to Y/N, is like a scar that has marred its way across his face. Never forgotten and for the whole world to see, unless makeup and a smile is put on it. 
Y/N, in the basicness of emotions, is sad. He is hurt, upset, exhausted, and sad. 
“Leave me alone, Bruce.” Bruce’s grip tightened once more, and his jaw clenched. He’s finally got Y/N within his vicinity to talk, like hell he’s letting go. Y/N narrowed his eyes and pulled his arm, “Let go, Bruce.” 
He pulled again, “Bruce.” The man’s iron grip never waivered, and Y/N felt the air in his lungs begin to escape quicker than it could fill the organs. He brought his other hand up to try and peel those thick fingers off his wrist, but Bruce grabbed his other hand. 
“I still don’t understand why you would want to leave.” Y/N scrunched his nose, “If you can’t understand, even after I spelled it out for you, then maybe you should stop being a detective.” Bruce didn’t feel insulted or slighted at Y/N’s words, chalking it up to Y/N being upset still. 
“How can I make you want to stay here?” Y/N sighed, and Bruce could feel that fight leaving his son’s body. The tension in his arms disappeared. 
“How can I know that it is here that I am meant to be, when I haven’t been anywhere else?” Bruce opened his mouth, to which Y/N effectively cut him off, “East Gotham doesn’t count, and the Dominican Republic would have counted if you all hadn’t kidnapped me.” 
“We didn’t kidnap you.” Y/N gawked at him, and the fight returned, “You did kidnap me! Do you need a dictionary definition of what kidnapping is?! It is the unlawful abduction, aspiration and confinement of a person against their will!” 
“You. Live. Here.” Bruce gritted out and Y/N’s jaw clenched, “Well I don’t WANT to be here!” He snarled and tried once more to loosen Bruce’s grip on his wrists. 
“What is it with all of you NOT comprehending that?! No matter how you look at it, no matter what angle you try to take this from, Bruce. I am a prisoner within this manor!” Y/N glared at Bruce, “Just what did I do that warranted the surveilance, the trackers, the stupid god for fucking sake imaginary collar you all want me to have on?!” 
Bruce growled out, “You left when you are only meant to stay here. It is the consequences of your actions.” 
“I am not your property!” Y/N snarled, “ Nor am I a pet that you can keep chained and trapped in the house!” Bruce felt something snap within him and he released Y/N’s wrist and watched the other stumble from the sudden loss of support. 
Y/N righted himself, still glaring at the man. Bruce took a deep breath, “Fine.” 
“Huh?” 
“You want to try your luck out there, then go. I will give you an hour's head start.” Y/N stared at Bruce in suspicion, “What are you getting at?” Bruce made a show of adjusting his watch, “I will give you an hour, only one. If you can outrun us, out maneuver us, or outsmart us until sunrise, you can choose how your future plays out.” 
“‘Us?’” Bruce smiled, “All of us.” Y/N wanted to bite out a ‘not fair’ comment, but found a more pressing matter, “What about the trackers?” Bruce fished out his phone, and made a dramatic show of pressing some buttons, he then showed Y/N what appeared to be a small map, like a GPS, on his phone. 
“Turned off.” Y/N ignored the feeling of disgust seeing that his location was literally on their phones. 
“Start running Y/N, your hour has already started.” Y/N bolted out the study room, not looking back. 
Bruce stayed in the room, looking out the window as the sun began to set and the snow turned dark. Light footsteps entered the room, and Bruce could basically hear the eyebrow raise, “Not now Alfred, save it for when Y/N comes back.” 
The old butler humphed, “He’s always gotten sick when playing in the snow.” Bruce hummed, “Then I guess we better make this quick.” 
“Are you sure an hour was a good idea? He did sneak out of the manor before.” Ocean blue eyes filled with mirth, and he tapped his ears, “If Y/N wants to know what it’s like to be deaf, then he’ll play this game deaf. It’ll teach him how lucky he is to have his hearing.” Alfred’s eyes widened, “They turn off without his knowledge.” 
“Once he reaches a certain distance, they do, and he can’t turn them back on. Only I have the power to do that.” 
In the hall, suited up and waiting in the shadows, were the rest of this crooked family. Waiting for his orders, “Give him an hour, then find him.”
++++
Y/N knows this is a losing game. He knows that this game is set for his failure, and he knows that once this game is over, he will most likely never be able to set foot outside again. Not without a babysitter. 
When he external processors cut out, he knows what angle Bruce is playing out and he knows that his chances of making it to sunrise have become nearly 0%. He may not be as smart as Tim or anyone else in his family, but if you live with geniuses you learn how to read between the lines. 
He somehow managed to flag down a taxi before telling them where to go. Not missing the slight judgment cross their face and Y/N wonders if they know he cannot hear them. Y/N wonders if they know he is being chased and he essentially is just digging a bigger and deeper hole for himself. The bars will get thicker and the chain will be heavier, but if that is the outcome of this, then Y/N believes that this will be worth it. 
He clutched the bag closer. 
When he arrives at the station, he knows his hour is up and he knows that Barbara is watching him through the cameras. She is watching him buy his ticket, and is retelling everything to his siblings. He knows this because in front of him is Nightwing, drawing a crowd and making everyone look around for the villain. 
‘Going somewhere?’ 
‘Only temporarily.’ 
‘Temporarily is too long Y/N, let's go back home. Alfred has a peach cobbler ready.’ Nightwing held his hand out as if Y/N would actually take it. Which is fine, because Y/N knows through the giant circular mirror hanging from the ceiling, that Spoiler and Red Robin are behind him. 
Y/N stared at the hand once more, and he wondered if this is what it feels like to know the path you should take and still choose the other one. Taking a deep breath, Y/N said the one word that would get everyone running. It would have people scrambling and trying to seek cover and get out of a place that made everyone have a close vicinity to each other. 
“Joker!” Like someone shouting fire, the world was set into motion and Y/N watched as his view got obstructed by the rush of people. He disappeared within the crowds, dodging idle hands and ducking into the crowd. He may not be able to hear, but he can feel the panic that everyone else was feeling. Y/N saw parents pick their kids up, lovers grabbing each other’s hands, and strangers pushing and shoving other strangers. 
He rushed down the escalator, towards the Amtrak that had his destination written all over it. Y/N didn’t have to turn around to know that it was Nightwing right behind him. He can feel the heavy and frantic gaze and if he could hear, without a doubt his name would be filling the air. 
His heart picked up at the sight of the doors closing, and through some luck, he squeezed in at the last minute. The metal shutting behind him, and large latex covered hands slammed into the glass. Dick’s frantic face stared at him, and Y/N couldn’t stop the smile from creeping on his face. 
How it must feel for the rabbit to slip through the Hunter’s fingers. 
When the train began moving, Y/N wiggled his fingers in a mockery of a goodbye. He now sees why Jason loves teasing Dick. Dick’s angry expression really does tickle a sore spot in Y/N. Choosing a spot near the windows, Y/N prepared himself for the 10 hours train ride. The sun will not be rising when he gets there, but he never expected to make it to sunrise. Peering into the duffle bag next to him, Y/N gave a bitter smile and turned his attention back to the passing sight of Gotham city. 
In the Batcave, everyone was pacing and figuring out the best way to do this. 
“Are you sure that is where he is going?” 
“For the last time, I saw his ticket, yes. He is going there!” Jason winced at Barbara’s raised voice and he grit his teeth in irritation. He massaged his temples, “Why North Carolina? What is even there?” 
“The beaches.” 
“No shit you little spawn, but which one.” Nightwing didn’t bother reproaching his brother, and instead tightened his fist. He was so close to grabbing his brother. So close. 
The very knowledge that his little brother had barely escaped him stoked two different emotions in him. Pride in knowing that his brother was fast, fast enough to get away from him, and irritation because he did slip through Nightwing’s fingers. Batman didn’t seem bothered. 
In fact he looked awfully relaxed for someone whose son had just hopped on a train to North Carolina. Nightwing glared at him, “You know where he’s going.” Batman shrugged, “An idea.” 
“Where?” 
“Y/N took his freediving gear, and there’s only one beach in North Carolina that is worth freediving.” 
++++
Y/N felt the water encompass him, hugging his limbs and freeing him of gravity. The light attached to his forehead illuminates the sea and sees marine life at night. The train ride had been long and restless, but he did manage to at least sleep for 4 hours, before his nerves woke him up once more. 
It was still dark, but at 4 am in the morning, it would be stupid to assume there would be any light. Navigating to the pier at Wrightsville Beach had been difficult, constantly looking over his shoulders to make sure he wasn’t being followed. Then there was the actual jumping off of the pier that if anyone saw would have the cops racing over. 
Finally though, he was here. Swimming in the water and just letting himself be. It was a poor replication of freedom, but if this will be all he is allowed he’ll take it. Who knows how long it'll be before he could do something like this. Y/N isn’t stupid. He knows that Bruce knows where he is at. 
He knows his siblings are on their way over. Probably letting him get off the Amtrak first before jumping in the Batplane, or maybe even the Batboat. Y/N surfaced, and took a deep breath before diving below the surface once more. 
God, this was all a terrible joke but here it was happening. Y/N could have never imagined his family doing this. When he was younger, he chalked up Bruce’s need to constantly check on him as anxiety because it was the first time the man had a completely normal person in the house. Jason had always been touchy, and then Dick came along who would ruffle their hair. Tim would hold his forearm and Damian would follow him where he went. 
It wasn’t weird at all. That was Y/N’s normal, until he went to college and started making friends. Friends who were mature enough to see past his lack of hearing and shared their own sibling experiences. 
Experiences that didn’t match Y/N’s. 
His little trip outside the country only proved it, and Y/N wondered if it was a bad thing he decided to do in person classes instead of online. If he did online, he would live in the fantasy that his family was normal and they loved him as a person. No red flags would be waving because Y/N wouldn’t even know they are flags. 
He felt the water around him begin to vibrate and from the way the fish started spazzing out, Y/N knew his time was limited. How funny it would be if he never rose to the surface again. 
Sinking a bit further, he looked towards the surface and watched as the water distorted and ripples began to form, each one acting as a timer. Closing his eyes, he held his breath as long as he could, until his lungs began to ache. Lightheadedness caused him to almost inhale water.  
Rising to the surface, he could see the ominous black shape and the people looking over the edge. Here he was swimming back to his captors’ arms. Like a mouse headed for the trap. A fish into a net. 
Y/N has never hated himself more then when he took that breath of air and met the sight of cowled Batman, and masked Robin and former Robins. 
‘Ready?’ 
“Even if I wasn’t you’d still take me.” 
‘You lost Y/N, get out of the water.’ He accepted the ladder thrown down to him, and as soon as he was within arm distance, Red Hood and Red Robin hoisted him over the edge of the boat and it was Robin handing him a towel. Taking off his snorkel and flippers, Y/N let himself be guided to the inside, where an unmasked Dick sat at one of the tables with two cups of coffee. Red Hood pushed Y/N into the seat, squishing his body against the window as he laid his giant self on him. Sighing in relief and going limp. 
Y/N didn’t mind. From his seat, he watched the sunrays begin to slowly peak over the horizon. The warm glow gently illuminating the darkness, the sun not in sight yet but it’s very beginnings making itself known. Y/N wonders if one day, he can fall into the illusion of once more having a choice in his decisions. That there will be multiple paths in front of him instead of just one. 
A large hand patted his head, and Y/N felt disgusted that he welcomed it. Back to normalcy. He has to go back to normalcy. If he didn’t, Y/N really does believe he will go crazy. His fate has been chosen from the start, and he knows that there is little chance of changing it. He knows that all of this comes from a sick and twisted form of love, and Y/N wonders if this is the type of love he has always been destined for. 
The worst part is if given the choice to start over, Y/N wouldn’t stop himself from meeting Jason. He wouldn’t stop Jason from stealing the Batmobile tires, and he wouldn’t stop Jason from being Robin. He would try and stop Jason from dying, but he wouldn’t stop Tim from being Robin, or anything really. Y/N loves Jason, he loves his family, he loves their flaws and vices, even if it means letting go of somethings. His desire to be on his own was temporary anyways, only a few years and he would come back. 
It was never good to have a ‘white whale.’ That is what Moby Dick taught everyone who read it. 
If freedom was his white whale, then his family are the whalers. Killing it and completely destroying anything that made him want to chase it. 
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Honestly.... I'm not to sure about the ending.
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chaedomi · 9 months
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LITTLE MERMAID
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SUMMARY . unable to witness your death a second time, your sister desperately strives to change your fate, even if it meant ridding of others to prevent it.
CHARACTERS . ARIADNE VALENTINE
WARNINGS . YANDERE, female child reader, platonic, ooc, violence, abuse, death, unhealthy relationships (if i missed any, kindly alert me)
WORDCOUNT . 1.8k+ / MASTERLIST.
LETTERS . i have only read up to chapter 17 in Becoming The Villain's Family when this idea just spawned. so, the timeline in which i wrote this fic will focus more so on the scenes in the beginning.
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HERE’S A fun fact. Did you know that if you were to encounter a Mermaid, the higher the chances are of encountering a Siren as well? In addition to the creatures viewing each other as family, because of a mermaid’s delicate nature, sirens are naturally possessive of them. They become drunk and hypnotized by a mermaid’s affection, and thus, diligently fulfill a mermaid’s desires to preserve the shine they thrive off of. It’s an interesting tale, to learn the charmers become the charmed. However… if The Mermaid were to ever fall, so will The Siren as their main source of warmth has died. They will descend into madness and become the hostile nature they are known for or even worse, willingly succumb to the hands of death.
In the past, both you and your half-sister, ARIA, led a pitiful life. Throughout your years, your stepmother would force your sister to consume a potion, rendering her speechless, whereas yours will gently hug you, encouraging you to always remain neutral. It was confusing and painful, as it seemed those were the only moments your mothers cared about you both. Your stepmother, quiet as a mouse, and your mother, apathetic as a heart of stone.
During those times, you and Aria were grateful for each other, more so Aria, as she would cling to your tiny body crying and trembling while you tenderly kissed her cheeks and wiped away her tears.
Eventually, the truth came to light when you were the age of five, and your sister, ten. Through the season of spring, your mother passed, inclusive of your stepmother, who apparently went mad and took her own life after hearing of your mother’s death. By eavesdropping on the maids, it was then you both learned of each other’s identities, Aria, a Siren, and you, a Mermaid.
Sirens, gaining the name of the ancient monster, that flowed through your stepmother’s blood, through their songs, they possessed people, treated them, controlled them, and shook their emotions. Mermaids, gaining the name of the mythical creature, that flowed through your mother’s blood, through their tears, they shed milky crystals that held the power to repel a siren’s song. With those tears too, they were capable of granting grand wishes whether great or small, destructive or creative. Despite how dangerous their power was, they were harmless and good-natured.
Twelve years ago, your father had kidnapped a Mermaid and a Siren, presenting them to the world as they were originally known as myth. That Mermaid was your mother, and The Siren, your stepmother.
Your mind was too young to understand the information told and realize how dire the situation was. So, it worried you to see your sister in a constant state of panic and tears every now and then. You had asked her several times for the reason for her grief, but she brushed your concerns off each time, snuggling closer to you. And your worries slowly diminished as well as you returned the hug. Till… it happened one night when your father was unbelievably drunk out of his mind.
It was sudden, you were telling a story to your sister while she clung to you before your father barged inside the room, a wave of hatred visible in his eyes. One thing led to another and your sister was dragged outside the room by the hair. Even though you couldn’t make sense of what was happening, the sword that was tightly grasped in his hand as he took your sister away, was enough for you to spring into action. A silly game of tug-of-war it was, you, screaming your lungs out while you pulled at the hem of your sister’s nightgown, and your father, effortlessly dragging you both, to where he pleased. What it took to stop him, was the perfectly sweet voice of your sister, and the solid gems that fell from your eyes as you wept. He resembled a total madman, reaching toward you both as he cackled about the materials he could possess. You could only cry harder as your sister hugged you, burying your head against her chest.
Your lives were horrific beyond that point. Living the lives of a Mermaid and a Siren, you both were forced to mature quickly, learning and hearing unspeakable things. Becoming caged animals, you were pressured to fulfill the greed of scum. And despite all the abuse you suffered, you continued to push smiling, even when the exhaustion taking a toll on your body became more visible with each passing day.
Such a selfless soul you were too, quick to jump to others' needs instead of yours. Whenever your sister silently wept after a song, you would rub her head in comfort, sweetly hushing her as she lay in your lap. Whenever she was angry, you would squeeze her hands, attempting to calm the brewing storm in her heart. Whenever she felt as though she couldn’t make it, you would kiss her cheek, saying that she has done so well.
She, of course, soaked up every affection you provided. Too occupied wallowing in her sorrows and the comfort she will receive afterward from you, she forgot that you were also affected, dealt with the same ill-treatment, as well as that you had your limitations. So when the day arrived when you had no tears left to cry, her heart shattered.
It was a pitiful sight to witness, your sister in a mess as she cried desperately to you, begging for you to stay. You wished that you could, but the longer your head rested on her lap, and her cold hands held your cheeks, you felt more of your life fade away. So you forced yourself to cry, to shed one more tear, and it fell.
With that tear, you wished, that perhaps in another lifetime, both you and your sister could enjoy your days in endless glee, like free birds soaring in the sky.
As you drew your last breath, your sister too accepted her death, willing to perish alongside you. You were her joy, her motive to continue her days. But, when you left, so did those things. And she sang her last song, calling to whoever could come and console her weeping soul. Even when her savior came and held her in his arms, your sister’s eyes never left your corpse as she continued to sing. Maybe, if she died, she’ll be reunited with you in the depths of hell, unknowing of the white glow that shone by your corpse as she closed her eyes…
…So it came as a great surprise when she reopened her eyes not to hell, but to a lovely floral scent wafting in the air… As it dawned on her that she reverted to her ten-year-old self her head immediately snapped to the spot beside her on the bed, a lump visible under the duvets. With a shaky hand, she slightly tugged it downward… revealing your adorable face.
She almost cried there on the spot, leaning forward to press a kiss against your temple. She remembered that wish you made on your deathbed… could this outcome be a result of your wish being granted? If so, she will not take it for granted. Your father… who ruined both of your lives, she will inflict vengeance on him. She will save you from your fate no matter what it takes.
“MY YOUNG Lady, you seem upset. Is everything alright?” Dana asked, chuckling lightly. Damn right, she’s upset. And no, she’s not alright. Can’t she tell? She was considered to be weak physically, but, god, the sight in front of her filled her with so much rage that she was capable of snapping the spoon in her hand in half.
The maid assigned to you was just doing what she ought to do, heeding your commands. If you tell her to bark like a loyal dog, she will do just that and obey your orders. So, naturally, if you had instructed her to spoon-feed you the food brought to the table, the maid would oblige.
Aria's teeth sunk further into her bottom lip, listening to how you squealed and laughed in glee when the maid gently wiped the crumbs off your face, chuckling along with you. Why were you acting so sweet and loving to someone you just met? She was there longer than that maid ever was, no? She was the only one there for you when you suffered, so rightfully, whatever abnormality or emotion you may feel, she is the only one allowed to witness it.
"What is it you don't like, My Young Lady?" Tearing her eyes off the sight that sickened her greatly, she stared blankly at her caretaker, who contrasted her expression with a beaming smile. She was so focused on the scene that she hadn't realized her body moved on its own, scribbling messily on the piece of paper she used to communicate.
She slowly wrote again. “You don’t like the maid, My Young Lady?” Dana tried to hide her amusement over the situation, albeit terribly, I may add, the fingers pressed against her quivering lips a dead giveaway. “So, that’s why you have that frown… Young Lady, are you perhaps jealous?”
Jealous? The feeling inside her body burns too hot for it to be deciphered as jealousy. What she felt was a pure unspoken rage that could tip over at any given moment. Such anger she felt… was similar to the night she confronted her drunken father after she awoke as a child. In short, she didn’t want this maid to just leave. She wanted her gone. Entirely.
“Hmmm…” Dana frowned at Aria’s discontent. Pinching her chin in thought, she glanced in your direction. “The Other Young Lady does not know how to use cutlery correctly, hence why she always seeks assistance. However… Ah!” Dana snapped her fingers as a thought popped up. “Why don’t you feed The Other Young Lady instead?”
The rate at which Aria immediately perked up was comical. Eyes sparkling like fine jewels, she was practically buzzing in her seat! Satisfied that she made her Young Lady smile, Dana quickly moved to update your maid on the change of plans.
You were very confused when your maid abruptly stood from her chair, big-doe eyes staring when she stood near the doorway with a large smile plastered on her lips. But when your sister approached you, taking the spot the maid sat on to feed you, all questions vanished. You were already glad to see your sister just… there, so, think of the wave of happiness that rushed over you when she wrote she wanted to feed you!
The food served became tastier now that your sister was the one feeding you. And with a full mouth of food and eyes that glimmered in admiration of your sister, you huffed out an ‘I love you’ as best as you could. It was a bit gross to see some bits of food fly out of your mouth, but the warmth that clenched her heart from your genuineness overpowered her disgust. Smiling fondly, she wiped your messy mouth before leaning over to press a loving kiss on your forehead.
Your happiness truly is the source of her own happiness. Keep smiling for her, she will do anything to preserve it and anything for you, her little mermaid.
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©chaedomi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of the works published.
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Young Batsis getting sent back to the past and gets lost in JHall and starts looking for their father Bruce Wayne: DAD? DAD?!
Bruce wearing his Batman Suit as he stands on the side: *recognizes young batsis and goes to pick them up*
Young Batsis: *Looks weirdly at Batman* No you're not him, DAD! *before walking away*
On lookers (Justice League, Batfam and whoever's there) : *Tries to not laugh*
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