Warnings: Obsession and other general yandere behaviors; they hate you at first; swearing; canon typical violence (mentioned); device hacking + privacy being breached; threats (directed at MC); spoilers for several Cantos; written by someone who's still on Canto 6 </3; probably OOC; MC implied to play on phone; NOT PROOFREAD
Notes: Lil celebration post as my requests finally open!!! Also I wanna try using m-dashes now. It isn't AI I just like how m-dashes look
To them, you meant their downfall. Your very existence. Your inane ramblings. Your voice. Your stupid voiceâŠ
You simply being there proved it was all fake. All the suffering, all the growth, all the memories and relationships. All false events slipped and interwoven into their minds like a plague.
None of it was real. None of what they went through- were made to go through- was real.
So why? Why do you now sit safely behind that invisible wall, voice ringing in their ears as you chat with people around you and things around you and to them. To them?
You can't even comprehend how your mere existence ruined their lives. Ruined any dreams, hopes, goals. All burned by a single word and left them stranded with the ashes as you continued as if you didn't even know. Did you even know? Could you even understand?
But it wasn't like they could get rid of you. You were safe. Simply just a presence they were forced to hear again and again and again.
âŠ
Each and every Sinner, at least once, wished they could kill you. Find and mangle your body, try to ruin you as you ruined their lives. They hated you, they swore they hated you.
Well⊠not one.
Dante had no memories to lose. No relationships to watch burn. No complicated past that was so real to them and yet wasn't at all. They were simply a clock-headed manager who swore they heard you clearest of all. Each kind word you uttered, each humorous remark, each light tease, each complaint, each murmur.
They liked listening to you. They sympathized with why the Sinners and others aboard Mephistopheles felt different, yes, but they didn't understand. They had nothing to lose, and- even if the world they existed in technically "wasn't real"- you treated it as if it was. It gave them relief, in all honesty.
That probably was why the reliance came so swiftly. You gave them reason. Made it felt real. Each cheer and blissful remark as they succeeded in their goals and each bemused chuckle as comical events occurredâŠ
Without you, well, could their life even be "real"?
Your appearance broke up the monotony of day to day life. You would usher the story along, encouraging the Sinners along their paths just as they did, and acted as if this world was a very real thing you merely peered into. Something like a book, real as long as you're there to witness it.
You had favorites, things and characters you resented, scenes you found funny or made you start to cry. You were more than a person. You were a force who strung along this world and Dante was so willing to let you lead them any which way.
They already had little say over actions, less so than the Sinners, so what even was the harm? When you clicked that "Win Rate" button, they got to choose what actions the Sinners took (even if you'd often reach in and correct them to be "better" choices). And if they were forced to bow to the whims of someone kind like you, someone who gently encouraged them to lead and rejoiced with each success, why would they complain?
All they wish is that they could've been the one to greet you whenever you open the game.
ââ â â â
No Sinner warmed up to you as quickly as Dante. Well, excluding Meursault.
But to say Meursault "warmed up" to you would be quite the overstatement. In fact, he merely accepted his position and continued on as per usual. He was under the Manager's command, but- by a technicality- the Manager was under your command. Therefore, you were his true superior here.
He was willing to tolerate you and follow through on your commands. While some of your remarks were more questionable, he was willing to turn a deaf ear and continue his duty as long as you were there to give it to him. As for his real "warming up"⊠well, that comes later. Far later. And no one even notices when it does.
Outis as well accepted her position. Her little remarks weren't tolerated when you experienced the stories of the Sinners (she had received enough reprimand from Dante for attempting to slip a snide remark you immediately clocked and grew confused on), so all she could do was grit her teeth and go along with whatever order you issued in battle and listen to you be so foolish she wish she simply couldâ
âŠIt was no use. Clearly, someone in a position like yours was better off blissfully unaware they were essentially a god looking in upon a world of dolls sat prettily for them to watch suffer again and again. Even if you were, kindly put, an actual idiot often, you were capable of slight strategy at times. Often scraping past bosses in the first few attempts if they were deemed a challenge and doing what you could to ensure fights ended in the favor of the Sinners (even if the story often turned around and said they failed).
And while certain things could improve, she wasn't going to break the orders given to her and say anything.
Ishmael, meanwhile, had to such qualms.
Specifically after her Canto, to be precise. Her confrontation with the fake woman who ruined a false life wasn't what she yearned it to be the moment she started going down this path, yet you treated it as if it were real. Being horrified at the things she suffered through and cheering as she speared through the Whale's heart with her snag harpoon.
She wanted to scream it was fake. That it didn't matter and was pointless. But you⊠you made it had a point. Somehow, someway, you forced it to be real. Real to her, at least.
But, by the name of the Head, your team building skills were pathetic. These passives won't work well with this character- This isn't even a keyword for the central team comp and offers no support- Did you just attempt to put Sunshower Heathcliff onto a team you want to use to complete Canto 7? What is wrong with you?
While she isn't allowed to directly intervene, she is going to make comments in the story. Slight, missable things. Hints to what keywords to use for an upcoming boss, recommendations for IDs and EGOs⊠all carefully crafted to keep you as oblivious as possible as she drills this information into you.
Of course, the wiser of the Sinners catch on to what she was doing. Yet, Faust has no complaints. Being the way she is, it hadn't taken her especially long to catch onto the fact that she- being the primary ID of all Fausts- was the most real one. The others barely existed outside of IDs or EGOs you'd cycle through for each team comp you struggled to compile- even with a certain Sinner's help- and yet she, and only she, would be the one found in each Canto. Returning in each story, central to the plot.
Not to mention, you clearly had a soft spot for her. Specifically her, as the LCB Faust. She couldn't necessarily place it's source- perhaps relating to her role as a shunned figure in the Gesellschaft and connecting it to your own life- or simply finding her to be specifically likeable. Either way, you seemed to listen intently to her lectures. Often complimenting her or something akin to that.
And to say she didn't enjoy it would be an utter lie. She relished in your praise, almost blooming in it like a flower under the sun. It was the first genuine praise she constantly earned in her life, real or fake. And she'd much prefer if it stayed, flowing around her in a constant veil she wanted to wear on her day in and out.
And she was Faust. She was wise enough that, if you stopped enjoying the game, you would leave. Therefore, to regulate success in the form of viable teams was immensurable in ensuring you stayed. Thus, Ishmael was permitted to continue her hints and Faust did what she could to tweak the rates of Extraction in your favor. Especially if the newly released character was something you want.
Furthermore, making her base ID appear in your pulls regularly surely wouldn't bother you. You may question how you acquire so many of her EGO shards, but she knows you will care little about the constant Fausts as you see the chains shine gold.
Yi Sang doesn't miss Ishmael's actions either. He's simply unable to truly comment on it in a way that feels as if it truly meant something. Out of each Sinner, he is one of the most devastated his entire history was a lie. Forced to time and time again witness people he remembers as friends tear themselves and others apart by a past that was never real. Even at the end of his Canto, he felt like he had only slipped deeper into the shell of who he was.
Even your joy didn't make him regaining his wings feel real. Merely a scripted event he was made to undertake. He felt rather pathetic, in a sense. Even his current compatriots were more capable of coping than he was. But he could not.
And when you noticed he continued to behave similarly to how he did pre-Canto. Noticing a few missing lines here and there and slight alterations anyone could've missed. But you commented, and you worried for him.
Perhaps it was simply a worry stemming from an issue with your game, but Yi Sang noticed your murmurs of concern. And to say it didn't warm his heart would be a lie. Constant encouraging, sweet worry, almost delusional behavior on your end⊠You made him want to use those wings he regained, to fly once more. To reach you so high up in the sky and thank you for the love you gave him.
A part of him regretted he never truly could. Never could thank you, or feel your warm skin, or hold you in his arms. Never could utter so much as a new sentence without your experience being warped and you'd leave in fear. But that didn't matter to how his feelings of you changed.
You went from the being that proved it all to be fake to the being that made him feel a genuine warmth he'd never feel again. Perhaps that's why he was the first to admit his love for you.
And his admission wasn't necessarily popular. By this point, out of every Sinner, only about a third of them felt positively about you. To the others, you still were the personification of their ruin.
Of course, though, their attachment grew as you watched them through each of their stories. Encouraging and watching them move forward. Perhaps that was how the seeds of obsession were planted. Perhaps it was because others heard little snippets of what you said and assumed you to be a divine being. Perhaps that was why they started to believe it too.
Don Quixote became one of your most reverent followers by the end of her Canto. Not only had you bore witness to a past she herself wasn't aware of existing (unlike the others, her devastation over the fact her life was nothing but fake fizzled away rather swiftly) and your perception of her barely changed (leave her blissfully unaware you always knew, will you?), but you had listened with rapt attention when she spoke of her beloved Fixers. You deemed each word she uttered as meaningful, and she would do all she could to repay you in whatever way she can.
When you were gone- oh it was painful when you were gone- she was your greatest defender. Any snide comment against you was quickly retorted with a quick yell and charge from her. How dare they slander someone as kind as you! You did not mean to shatter their worldviews! No. After it happened for a second time, she understood you quite well. You only meant well.
You were a truly just figureâthe very thing Don would picture when thinking of such a thing. And she would do all she could to ensure your name remained untainted with foul lies and remarks! Alas, she could not speak to you. Could not lead you about her room and show you each memorabilia and merchandise she has collected for every Fixer she could find merchandise of. She could not see you listen with rapt attention, seeing you nod along from the corner of her eye. Could not hold your hand in hers and usher you about, shield you from those who wished you harm, could not sing your praises to your faceâŠ
But she would be your knight for as long as you were unaware, and for long after.
Heathcliff was in a similar boat to Don. However, at first, he absolutely despised you. Was his love for Cathy even real? Why was he forced to recall suffering that never even existed outside of pieces of code etched into his being? And why did you have any right to saunter about and act as if youâŠ
You're lucky the others held him back from screaming his head off at you. You're also lucky to be safely behind a screen, separated from him and the bat he would love to use to split your skull in half.
But then came along his Canto. It wasn't something he was looking forward too, not feeling ready to go back to Catherineânot with all these doubts of his love you sown in him. But this wasn't something he was allowed to change.
So he went through it. Listening to your words that made him want to pop a blood vessel, deal with the bastards who didn't even truly exist, and find out she was dead. He had to confront his other self, distort, and then fight the Wild Hunt until the Red Gaze stepped in.
But as the Canto started to creep to its end⊠he couldn't muster that hate for you anymore.
Maybe because you didn't leave. Maybe because you let him rest on that moment with the memory of Catherine. Maybe because you mourned alongside him as she was deleted.
He remembered, he was forced to remember. Him and only him.
But you remembered too. Of course you did, you weren't in the bloody game, butâŠ
It was nice knowing someone remembered her alongside him. That, even if he nor she were real, their love was. What he felt wasn't something that could be forced into him, he knew it.
It grew harder to stop him from saying lines that weren't supposed to be in game. Specifically regarding Catherine. Constant comments about her, confusion from the Sinners, but sympathy from you. He wanted you and him to talk about her. Someone who recalled her to hear all the stories he remembered having with her. And you were that someone. You were someone he wanted to walk and reflect with, the real journal he wanted to keep.
You became his new Catherine. The two of you separated, but in love. And he refuses to mess up like how he did with Catherine. There will be no Erlking when it comes to you.
But with Gregor, the Ungeziefer Kaiser is inevitable. Not out of maliceâno. The fight was something he couldn't prevent, as much as both of you wished he could.
It wasn't a pleasant thing, first having everything he knew uprooted and then suffering through⊠That. He already felt lowly enough, with his arm and past experiences. He couldn't understand why you seemed to⊠like him?
You were sweet, appearing unbothered or regularly forgetting about his arm. You thought of him as entirely a human, not the pathetic bug he knew he was. He didn't resent you for forcing him and his coworkers to learn they were never real. He didn't resent you for not leaving and constantly reminding them again and again they were just bits of code in a device. But he couldn't understand how you thought so highly of him.
In all honesty, he didn't think you were half-bad. He didn't get too attached to you or despised you too much. You were alright, and he was alright with you. Then came the Ungeziefer Kaiser fight.
After that, it was like a switch flipped. He was horrified to realize he could be forced into becoming a brutal boss-fight you'd helplessly grow stuck on or struggle past. He was miserable to be left out of the plot for a long time after, alone from everyone.
Being unable to hear your voice for the first time after growing so used to it felt off. He just felt entirely off. When alone with only his thoughts, that's when his opinion of you spirals. And it does moreso when he gets back.
Hearing the relief in your voice⊠overjoyed to see him return and using the new IDs you acquired for him with utter glee⊠He came to realize you loved him. You had to. Why else would you be so glad to see him okay? He couldn't see any other reason for you feeling like this. And, in a way, he supposed he loved you too. Couldn't understood what you saw in him, but⊠A part of him enjoys your love. He'd rather it didn't disappear.
Unlike the others though, he wasn't particularly skilled at hiding his newfound infatuation with you. And Rodion would relentlessly tease him, as if she hasn't been in love with you since Time Killing Time.
Was it something she'd simply fess up to? Oh, absolutely not. She's not that gutsy, after all. She simply knew that, by the end of that Intervello, she had decided she loved you. There was no big build-up like Heathcliff or sudden change like Gregor. She simply decided you were no longer annoying and instead were rather cute.
Funny, how thin a line annoying-ness and cuteness is. And it was simple enough you crossed the line and became a harmless crush. But, having a crush that you can't act on and merely grows as you don't leave, well⊠It went from harmless to so, so much worse.
And unlike the crush, she was well aware of how wrong she was. What kind of woman began to view someone as a possession? But in a sense, you weren't truly a thing to her. You existed outside of her world as a voice who could control the actions taken during combat at most. She saw no physical body of yours, no eyes or skin or anything. She already wasn't entirely sure you viewed her as a human, and she wasn't able to entirely humanize you.
Well, you were doing the same thing, weren't you? Just listening in, thinking of her as just a beloved PNG with text in a box below⊠Maybe making some things for her or admiring her, but not thinking of her as real, no? She was sure you'd make some fucked up shit about her, wouldn't you? So how wrong was she really? You're just as bad as herâŠ
Oh, don't worry! She doesn't hate you for it, no. You're both shitty people with how you think of each other. What's the harm in both of you being shitty together? Shame there's that screen separating you two, and the others on this bus thinking the same as her⊠Wanting her winnings? She'd be offended if she didn't understand why. And at least some of 'em are cute about it, like Gregor or SinclairâŠ
And speaking of Sinclair⊠He is the most wet, sad, pathetic thing when it comes to you. Already you cooing over him flusters and embarrasses him. But he can't see your face when you do it. And he is so lucky there doesn't exist a sprite of him blushing for you to seeâŠ
It also took him quite awhile to fall for you. Mostly due to what you did for him and⊠well⊠his trauma. He sometimes wondered if he was as good as a prosthetic user because he isn't real. He never was. Does he even count as a human..?
Yet, by the time Canto 7 ended⊠well, he was used to your kindness. You wormed your way into his mind until almost every thought involved you. How would you react to this..? Would you enjoy this kind of thing? How would he protect you if..?
There were many what-ifs for someone he couldn't truly interact with. Someone the mere thought of made him tremble. He wondered so many things about you, but feared he'd never get the answers he wanted. He'd never talk face to face with you. He'd never hold your hand. He'd neverâŠ
Hong Lu, though, wasn't as caught up by these what-ifs. To be quite honest, he was rather apathetic to you before his Canto. Oh? So your arrival came with worldview shattering realizations? Oh well, it is what it is.
Then came his Canto. Where he finally learned how to express his opinions on things. Where he finally figured that he didn't like you due to what you made him realize. Sure, you were kind, but you destroyed any semblance of existence he thought he had. But a part of him wasn't sure, so he kept thinking. Trying to formulate just what he thought of you.
And by the end of Canto 9, he came to the realization he actually liked you. Sure, the realization that his life was never real was not something enjoyable, but it wasn't your fault. You didn't mean any ill will by trying to play a game you enjoyed.
And on the contrary, you were quite a likeable person to hear. Made a good few humorous jokes, took serious moments as solemnly as you could, and served as more of a guide than Vergilius did. What was there not to like? Shame he's forbidden from speaking with you⊠he'd like to hear more about what you think on a wide array of random topics.
RyĆshĆ«, meanwhile, could genuinely care less. She already forgot pieces of her life, already had the trauma from the Nursefathers, already had suffered so much. What was one more thing on the pile? S.H.E.E.T. (She had expected everything, thickhead).
If she had her way, she'd S.Y.N.C. you. You quite honestly annoyed the hell out of her. She'd want you to S.T.F.U. constantly. But you wouldn't, and she couldn't, so she just had to begrudgingly deal with it. And all she could do to resist was make Faust withhold her IDs and EGOs from you in Extraction.
Then came her Canto and her change of heart. Maybe it came from forgetting Araya. Maybe it came from your warmth now truly directed at her. But she didn't want you to B.U.R.N. anymore (break up, run now). She didn't know why herself, but all she knows is sheâlike the othersâfell to your whims. Impressive, T.B.H.
Though her interest manifested in the worst forms. Notably, with how she wanted to turn you into A.R.T. (Absolutely relentless torture). Your body would be soft and malleable under her, a perfect canvas for whatever suffering she wanted to paint on you. She wanted to see you powerless, looking up at her in fear, and understand how she felt below you. And after, she wanted to nurse you back to health so it could start all over again.
She was one of the latest to fall, but the quickest to spiral into complete utter obsession. Almost ironic, in a sense.
And then there were the others on the bus.
Vergilius was perhaps the most affected by your presence. Unlike the Sinners, he would get no Canto. He would be given no opportunity to see those he remembered and move beyond his past. He wasn't even a playable character, merely a playable NPC who's join a fight or two now and again.
Yet, he tolerated you. Begrudgingly, of course, after all, you annoyed him as much as Don did, but he tolerated you nonetheless. You weren't something he could get rid of, not without fuss and the worry thatâwithout youâthey'd eventually cease to exist.
He watched the others fall to your apparent spell with faint disgust but hesitant acceptance. He could not control the others, just as you could not control him in battle. He also wasn't particularly inclined to tease anyone like Rodion or grow angry with them like Outisâwell, not that they had any right to make fun of anyone when they felt the same wayâŠ
He doesn't even realize when he falls. He doesn't even realize he did fall. There isn't even a specific point where he does fall. It takes a long time, yes, but it comes. And he only realizes when Charon comments on how happier he looks when he hears you finally log on and progress the story, or do a Mirror Dungeon run, or anything of the sort.
Charon herself isn't bothered by you. In all honestly, she always knew this was a game yet didn't care as long as she had Verg and Mephi. Though, now she has you too. You make Verg perk up slightly when you finally show up, and Mephi likes you⊠well, she guesses she likes you too then. Disappoints her you aren't here, but she copes better than the others do. Anyways, with the rate they're going, their work at getting out of the game to meet you will be finished in a little while. So, she, you, and Verg can all be a family soon enough.
She wonders who's going to wear the wedding dress in the marriage. Probably Verg.
ââ â â â
If they were only a little more patient, everything would've probably ended in their favor. But no.
The well of content had run dry. All current story? Completed. All current events? Completed. IDs? EGO? All you wanted that were out as gathered as you could get them (your newfound "luck" was instrumental to that), and leveled up and threadspun too. So, outside of dailies and MD, there wasn't much to stick around for.
And they started to panic. Sure, every few weeks new content would drop for you to play for, but you were appearing to lose interest. Not in the series, noâthey hear how you consume fan content (it isn't the same as spending time with them), but in the game. If you were gone, they'd beâŠ
They didn't want to know what would happen if you left. If you deleted them. If you suddenly stopped being there. They didn't want you to go. Even nights without you were almost unbearable now. What would happen if it became a week? A month? Forever?
So they came up with a plan. A very stupid, very rushed plan. They'd get access to the rest of your device.
It was hard enough to dig into the codeâtheir life bloodâto find the permissions. It was even harder to alter them, change what the game was allowed to access. Especially when they realized they needed you to tap the little button and approve them accessing these things.
But they were in too deep to give up now.
When you logged on, you were startled to see, "'Limbus Company' would like to access Camera," as a pop-up. But when you clicked, "Don't Allow," the pop-up came back. Every time you tried to deny it, it kept popping up.
Then the text read, "Just let us see you," and you nearly chucked your device through the nearest window. But curiosity overtook you, and you allowed it.
Then the next pop-ups came. Location, Contacts, Storage, Call Logs, Gallery, Memory, Personal Information, other appsâŠ
And when the Microphone came up, all the text next to it said, "We already hear you." You nearly went and uninstalled the game right there. By this point, you came to the realization your game was hacked and you made a horrible mistake, orâŠ
Then there was Dante's sprite standing in a blank, empty void.
<Sorry about thatâŠ> The textbox read, <We couldn't get access to what we needed to otherwise.>
And then they confirmed that, yes, they were aware of you. Always were (at least since you showed up). They wanted to finally reveal it to you, but you weren't given a reason. The text continued, growing faster over time, until you just shut off the game and buried the device in a drawer somewhere.
You checked it again the next morning, and found it open on your Notes app.
"Don't do that again. We can make you regret it."
And then came the slow, painful process of trying to change everything. Your email, phone number, important information like pins and passwords⊠all when the aggressors causing this came from inside the very device you now tried to get rid of.
It was a hard, delicate balance. Especially when the characters would lull or pressure you into opening the game, into chatting with their sprites and silent voice lines because they didn't know how to artificially create voiced lines for you to listen too. Especially when they inevitably noticed and did all they could to destroy your progress.
But it was too late. You were able to change it all, let everyone know you changed it all, and throw the device far, far away. You accepted you never could risk playing Limbus again, stuck solely to watching others enjoy this game. But it was for your own good.
But you should've known you weren't safe.
ââ â â â
Living alone came with benefits and losses.
The most notable loss, though, was there was no one to help protect you when they showed up.
It was late at night. Sun set, hour past ten, and you were relaxing alone in the safety of your general living space. There was something small playing on the TV, mindless background noise as you folded laundry. It was still warm in your hands, and smelled just like your favorite soap. A bit of mindless comfort that got your mind off things.
Your hands had finally stopped shaking now. The thought of your strange game was far in the past. Months have gone by, anyways, with nary an issue in sight. You had many plans going forward, especially for the upcoming weekend. But for now, all you focused on was laundry.
Then there was a knock at the door. At this hour? Naturally you checked, why wouldn't you? But the sight you were met with⊠How were they here?
"Open the door." Vergilius ordered simply. His voice speaking in a non-Korean language was⊠jarring. You heard ticking, probably from Dante, but you couldn't understand it. You just moved as far from the front door as you could.
"We know you heard us." Faust told you, "The lights in your home are activated, strongly indicating you are here."
You started to lose track of who was saying what when they spoke again.
"C'mon bud, let's just make this easy and open this doorâŠ"
"Attempting to resist is futile, Player!"
"Open this bloody door already! Before we just knock it down!"
"Mine dearest player, I implore thee to welcome us into your abode!!"
"Y.I.B.H.A.N."
"I- I agree-! Just⊠please let us in..!"
"What do you hope to get out of this? We know where you live."
"Aww~ Look at your home! I hope ya got enough room in there to fit all of us~"
"I understand if this intrusion startles you, but-"
"Is it really that hard to open a door? Perhaps they work differently here."
"The Manager has requested I-"
The sudden banging on your door made your head spin, and you realizedâin horrorâthey're trying to knock it down.
So you fumbled to unlock the thing and swung it open. Your chest heaved, and you stared at the fifteen people standing on your porch, illuminated by it's light and the glowing bulbs from the inside of your own home.
You couldn't muster up a word to say as Charon moved to the front of the small crowed.
"We're home now. Charon wants to go inside."
ââ â â â â â
Final Note: A tier list summarizing when each Sinner starts to simp (Featuring the Driver and Guide)
Sorry I didn't go super in detail to all of the yandere ass behaviors these dorks did. Mostly this was just a "what if" thingy. May make this a series if people request follows up. Good thing my requests are open!! lololol
Have you ever thought about how well outlast primes would fit into gotham?
I think lots about outlast x batman...
there's so many Factors to this that my Autistic Mind finds it so Imposing I just keep imagining Gotham exploding somehow
Like WHOOOO is Batman encountering first bc that Matters, like Liliya is giving just a way more intense Azrael so like. HE COULD DEAL WITH THAT DECENTLY WELL but like. Everyone else is So much. I think Poison Ivy would get one look at the Kress twins as they dump a bunch of Horrid Chemicals into the harbor and create some kind of massive spore bomb to finally Level Gotham for the sake of Earth remaining safe
And since Liliya is so volatile I think the only PA I could see not just totally wigging out on a Batman Rogue is Gooseberry and I like to think she encounters Mad Hatter and they have a very silly time together
TW: GN reader, adult Damian Wayne, mentions drugs, yandere, neglect, angst and kidnapping.
You were Bruceâs youngest child, a year younger than Damian and several years younger than the rest. You were simply the result of a hookup on one of Bruceâs many business trips, it mightâve been to Europe, Africa, Asia, Australia or even just somewhere else in America. The point is, you didnât grow up in Gotham until the age of thirteen when your mother died in a violent car crash, one in which you had also been involved.Â
You had sat for hours in the backseat, slowly seeing your motherâs life drain from her eyes as the fire brigade did their best to cut their way into the car. It had all been for nought though, with her dying before the paramedics even arrived. You were physically fine except for some deep cuts and bruises, but your motherâs abdomen had been pierced as a drunk driver of a flatbed lorry carrying steel poles had backed violently into your car, sending the metal sticks flying straight towards your vehicle. One of the poles had gone through the window and hit your mother. It was a gruesome sight, so vile that you threw up several times as you were hauled out of the wreck.
Legally, you were supposed to go to your father, even if your motherâs parents, possible siblings or someone else were willing to take you, the law demanded that itâd be your father who took you. Bruce had signed your birth certificate, he wasnât unaware of your existence, and he had since your birth sent monthly child support to your mother, but that was all you really were to him up until that point; A negligible extra expense.Â
It wasnât that Bruce disliked you when you came to the manor. You were simply a scared kid who had just lost their mother and was deeply grieving. He had dealt with plenty of those. He had just been busy⊠He obviously had his obligations as Bruce Wayne: CEO duties, public image and bundles of paperwork, but it was more so his obligations as Batman and to his other children, which pulled him away from you when you first came into his home. Damian, especially, took up most of his time. Not only did the two of them constantly train for protecting the city, thus developing a closer bond than youâd ever have with either of them, but Bruce was also very aware of how Damianâs childhood at the league weighed down on him mentally, so, he kept him close, let him vent his frustrations and slowly but surely get over his trauma.Â
 From the very beginning, you became the forgotten child:
Dick was always so focused on Damian, singing his praises and always taking care of him. He usually forgot to even greet you whenever he visited the manor for a week or two, often going âOh! I havenât seen you all this time! Well, bye to you too Y/nâ, whenever he left. Whenever the oldest brother was visiting, youâd stand in the doorway to the living room, observing with stinging eyes as he embraced Damian like the boy mattered more than the entire world. You had forgotten how it felt to actually matter that much to someone. You wondered if you ever had. Why you tortured yourself with watching the two, you didnât know, perhaps because you longed to be in Damianâs position? You werenât even sure yourself. The reason probably didnât matter, as your forced your eyes to stay on the two, only leaving when you could feel silent tears run down your cheeks.Â
Jason was the friendliest, not particularly caring for Damian and Bruce either, often calling the green-eyed boy âDemonspawnâ, which youâd laugh loudly at, only to be sent to your room by Bruce for upsetting Damian. Jason understood though, usually going to your room to hang out with you and listen to your stories, unlike everyone else. He came to adore you. Damian mightâve been Dickâs favourite sibling, but you were Jasonâs. Since Damian was called âBabybirdâ, Jason called you âTiny tweetâ, even though you didnât hold the title of Robin. You loved the times when Jason was there, he made you finally feel understood and heard. Unfortunately, Jason was at the manor even less than Dick, (who spent 90% of his time in BlĂŒdhaven), since he couldnât stand the sight of Bruce for longer than an hour every other month. So, the brief moments of reprieve the second oldest offered were few and far between, still leaving you isolated most of the time.
Tim barely spared you a glance, too busy with his own school, vigilantism and friends. He appreciated that you werenât annoying like Damian, whoâd constantly attack him, thus automatically bringing you above the little devil on Timâs tier list of family members⊠however, Damian was at the very bottom, which didnât make it a great achievement. If you ever tried to converse with Tim, heâd dismiss you with a wave of his long bony hand, telling you to find someone else to chit-chat with. You stopped your attempts at befriending the middle child after a handful of unsuccessful tries, barely seeing him after that. As a matter of fact, whenever you tried to visualise a picture of Tim, it was the image of his slim dismissive hand which appeared. You had forgotten if his hair was black or dark brown, if his eyes were light blue or grey or if his nose had a bump or not. He bordered on becoming a personal myth to you; You knew he existed in a far-off world, but he wasnât within your orbit.
Damian was at first fearful that youâd take his place, bullying you, physically harassing you and bringing up your mother until you were left wailing on the floor. When you told Bruce though heâd always tell you to, âBe the bigger person, Damian has been through a lotâ. You wished you could have fought against your youngest brother, but not only was he older and stronger than you, but he was also a trained assassin and vigilante. You stood no chance. When Damian realised that you were no threat to his position, he left you alone, avoiding talking to you and interacting with you on the basis that you simply didnât matter to him. He had actually once accidentally told a teacher that he only had three siblings, not realising that he had forgotten about you until he was on his way home, replaying the conversation in his head. Damian mightâve once tried to become closer to you after Alfred had given him a long spiel about how âfamily is importantâ, but quickly realised that you trusted him less than the thieves in Crime Alley, and so he abandoned the idea.
Bruce didnât mean to ignore you, it was purely accidental, but he had on multiple occasions forgotten your birthday and even once failed to remember buying you any Christmas presents, leaving you as the only Wayne child with no gifts that year, to which you had simply muttered something along the lines of, âOf courseâ, not in a vengeful or angry way, instead in a resigned and understanding tone, before going back to your room that night and not leaving until a day or two later. Alfred had scolded him for that occurrence, there wasnât really anything he couldâve said in his defence and even Dick had looked at him with disgust as they all took in the image of you standing there, alone, surrounded by gifts that werenât for you. It had been a striking visual, yet not enough to make Bruce change his ways. It wasnât that he held any animosity towards you, you were simply just air to him, he had no idea where you were at any given time or who you were, sometimes he even forgot your face.
Alfred was a kind man, an understanding man. However, just like Bruce, he also had others to worry about, and the more isolated you became in your behaviour, the less able he was to spend time with you. Not only that, but he also refused to hear you talk badly of any of your brothers, and even Bruce was off the table if you felt like complaining. Alfred was a sweet and patient man, but to you it felt as if he had lost the plot, as if he didnât understand how badly you were treated, because his love for the others blinded him, making him an unfortunate enabler of your torment. Alfred was only really good for giving you a biscuit/cookie when you sat in the kitchen, apathetically staring into a wall, for venting your frustrations, however? He was useless.
Your father neglected to handle your trauma. However, somehow, in his messed up brain, he reasoned that any trauma which was vigilante-related could somehow be considered worse as it was on a much larger scale than a single individual losing their mother. This made you grow resentful of both Damian and your father, the careful way Bruce would adapt everything to fit Damianâs wants and needs, disregarding yours, slowly lit a fire within you, a fire which burned with hatred towards them both.
I could see you wanting to join the vigilante life when youâre perhaps fifteen. You had watched the others train for years and would often sneak into the bat cave after dark to train yourself. You were good, really good, so you decided that you might as well start doing actual vigilante work. You did realise that you hadnât quite reached a fighting level where thatâd be a good idea, so you decided to find a more seasoned mentor. A slight detail, which would become important. Your father didnât have the time to teach you. So who did you call up? Thatâs right! Jason.
 Jason was reluctant to take you under his wing, at first. He even came to the manor to convince you that vigilantism wasnât all it was cracked up to be. However, after pouring your bleeding heart out to the only brother who cared, he accepted, still apprehensive though.
Jason started his training from the top, getting into the basics swiftly. You got it down faster than he had at first thought, being an astoundingly quick-learner, something which the red-masked vigilante attributed to having Wayne blood in your veins. After locking down all the groundwork within a year or so, it was time to start your specialisation; Choice of weapons, fighting style and general tactics were all next. While training with Jason, you slowly moved into the spare room in his apartment. It wasnât like you had a bunch of things to move, but what little you had, Jason helped transport from the manor to his primary safehouse.
When Jason considered you ready, you started working as his shadow sidekick. Never known by the vigilante community at large, but definitely a secret menace to Gothamâs criminals. Jason did a good job of keeping your vigilantism a secret After your first three years of training, you completely stopped visiting the manor, even on holidays. You were technically a legal adult now and felt no obligation to stick around a house whose inhabitants had made it clear that you were unwelcome.
No one except Alfred knew that you had completely left for the first long while, with him being the only one you had bid farewell to. The old butler refused to tell Bruce until the man noticed himself. That day would come approximately four months after you stopped coming to the manor, on Christmas eve:
Damian had been the one to notice your absence secondly, after Alfred. He commented on it during the Christmas family dinner, one which Bruce only held for his sons' sakes, and where the only two not attending were Jason and you. Even Dick was there, on a visit from BlĂŒdhaven, spry and jolly around his favourite younger sibling. Damian.Â
âWhereâs L/N?â The green-eyed man had questioned loudly. Silence followed. Bruce took a look around, you werenât there. They all knew that Jason wouldnât be attending, he had declined Bruceâs requests every year since his resurrection, instead opting to go to Royâs place. A lump formed in Bruceâs throat, yet he didnât know why. âDamian, can you go get them down? They probably didnât hear that dinner was servedâ, Dick requested kindly with a smile on his lips. The man in question wouldâve usually complained, but since it was his eldest brother who asked, he got up wordlessly. Conversation at the table resumed, with Alfred biting his lips in contemplation. âShould he have informed Bruce of your absence, even though he knew you were at Jasonâs?â âPerhapsâ, he concluded, deciding to keep silent about the whole matter, it was unfair to you. You had moved on, and even if he missed you terribly, it was not his place to demand your return. A piercing âWhat!â Stopped all the chatter at the table. Damian came barrelling back into the dining room, grabbing the side of the door with a tight knuckle to stabilise himself. âTheir room is completely empty! All their stuff is gone! The only things left are the bed and closet!âÂ
Bruce had stood up immediately, his chair colliding with the ground behind him as he brushed by Damian, entering your room, his son had been right. Your room was empty. None of the posters you had brought with you from your life with your mother, no papers lying scattered around and no other signs of use. As Bruce looked closer at the remaining furniture, he found that a thick layer of dust coated every surface. The room was as empty as when you arrived as a child and something in Bruceâs stomach dropped. âY/n!â He called out. No reply. Soon, the entire manor was looking for you, even Alfred pretended to do so as well, his guilt of knowing eating him up from the inside. None of them found you, you had vanished without a trace.
 Somehow, your perceived disappearance became the thing to snap your familyâs collective consciousness. All hyped up by each otherâs worry and driven into a frenzy. Bruce believed that you had gotten kidnapped or ran away, and it scared him. The thought of his negligence having brought you to extremes was like a spear through his heart, switching something on in his brain. He ordered his available sons to scour the entire city of Gotham to find you, completely forgetting about Christmas and leaving only Alfred behind to stay at the manor, in case you returned on your own. Bruce also ensured that most rooms in the manor were lit, like a lighthouse showing you home. Meanwhile, you and Jason were celebrating the holidays at Royâs place in Star City, oblivious to what was taking place in all the major cities. You were playing with Lian as the two men chatted about old times and the poor quality of the beer they were drinking; Roy had let you two stay for a few days, so Jason could properly enjoy the festivities without thinking of his alcohol percentage as he was the designated driver. None of you had any idea of the ruckus going on only a few cities away.
It was after this Christmas that the family changed irreversibly. Suddenly, your safety became their top priority. Spear-headed by Bruce, who had a borderline existential crisis as he believed there was an equal chance of you being dead in a ditch somewhere and you being tortured by some rogue. Bruce was overtaken by guilt and challenged this feeling into pure rage as he beat up henchmen and rogues within an inch of their lives, believing them to have somehow connected you to Batman. They hadnât and were entirely unaware of why the bat was so obsessed with this one person. Were you perhaps vital in an ongoing detective case? Or did Bruce Wayne tip him off to be extra vigilant when finding his youngest? They had no clue.
Well, obviously, Christmas was ruined. When all of the batboys and their father returned home empty-handed, they were in no mood for celebrations. Tim simply sat in a chair, lamenting, as he stared into a wall with something akin to resignation, running calculations in his head of where you could have possibly gone, before heading for the cave to view the security footage as far back as he had stored. Bruce and Damian refused to simply stop looking for the night, not staying long at the manor before they started searching other cities, making some of their vigilante friends aware of the situation. After staying in the nearest bathroom, and regaining control of his emotions, Dick joined his youngest brother and father in their quest for searching other cities. Bruce went to Metropolis, Damian to Central City and Dick to BlĂŒdhaven. They had planned that they would each scour a city tonight and one the night after, it would be impossible to find you during the day, as there were way too many people wandering the streets. Alfred still remained silent, he didnât think it was fair of them to bring you back, not with the way they had treated you and not when you had clearly left of your own volition.
Bruce had informed his closest friend, Clark Kent, of your disappearance, with the alien immediately insisting on aiding in the search. âItâll be quicker if we both look at the same time!â Clark had yelled determined through the phone, his southern drawl helping to calm Bruceâs nerves, if only slightly. That was how not only Batman but also Superman started patrolling the streets of Metropolis, in search of a single person, you. Jon too wanted to aid in the search and offered Damian to take over looking in Central city, so he could look somewhere else instead, thus covering more ground, Damian agreed and went to Coast city.Â
As the news spread to the citizens of these cities that the Supers and the Bats had teamed up to look for one of Bruce Wayneâs missing kids, it became the talk of everyoneâs dinner tables. News channels ran multiple stories about it, despite it being Christmas, being hyped up in no small part thanks to Lois Lane, whose heart went out to the Waynes for losing someone so close to them. The story had slowly morphed from you having run away voluntarily, to you having been kidnapped as a ransom. Everyone who heard of your story believed it to be a tragedy committed by someone who couldnât even hold up the sanctity of the holiday spirits.
Back at home, Tim reviewed all of the security footage and went as far back as four months, that was when he saw you exit the manor with multiple boxes in your arms, loading them into a red lorry. He kept looking at you walking back and forth for a while until a well-known presence stepped out of the vehicle. Jason. Tim stood still, you hadnât just moved out of the manor, you had moved in with Jason. You had moved in with the second oldest brother, and neither of you had bothered to inform anyone! Tim seethed, he wasnât mad at you, no, he could never be. But Jason, the mere thought of him now made Timâs blood boil. He believed that his brother had borderline kidnapped you away from them. His ire intensified when he saw Jason enter the manor and come out with more of your stuff packed into boxes. That was enough evidence for Tim to conclude that Jason mustâve forced you to move out, that it really hadnât been your choice at all⊠Skillfully ignoring how none of the people in the manor had ever given you a reason to stay, let alone noticed that you had been gone for over four months.Â
However, knowing that you were with Jason made him able to conclude that you were likely in one of his safehouses or spending your Christmas with his best friend Roy, those two were inseparable, after all. He decided that he would look through Jasonâs safe houses, then he called up Damian, âGo to Roy Harperâs place and look for Y/n. Theyâre with Jason.â Timâs voice was dark, foreboding and it even made Damianâs hairs stand straight. Truly the stuff of nightmares. Tim explained the situation to both Dick and Bruce afterwards, as he glided through the air from safe house to safe house. Letting the two know that he had sent Damian after you and that they could come home now. Even if Tim currently held the desire to puncture Jasonâs lungs for taking you away from them⊠away from him, he knew his older brother would never let anything happen to you. You were weak in his mind, and in the rest of the familyâs mind too. Perhaps they wouldâve worried less if they knew of your vigilante training⊠or maybe not. Vigilantism is dangerous, after all.
When Roy had turned on the TV briefly, you had all been bombarded with news of your disappearance. Your apathetic face from your last high school photo was plastered on every news network, big and small. News of an all-out search party with multiple vigilantes involved was outlined in great detail. Both Jason and you looked at each other with a mix of concern and confusion. It had been four months since you had last been at the manor, Alfred knew of your departure, what were they doing?! Lian had thankfully been put to bed, none of you wanted her to view the panic that crossed all three of your faces. âWhat the heck are they up to?â Roy questioned no one in particular. âItâs probably a façade, someone might have noticed that âBruce Wayneâ was down one child and now he needs to find me to assure them that Iâm not dead. It wouldnât be a good look to have multiple children die in your custody. No offence Jayâ, you postulated, it was a far reach but still the best explanation you could come up with. Jason had agreed with your assessment, giving you a light smack to the back of your head for mentioning his death. He wasnât mad, but he always joked that it was a sensitive subject.
The three of you tried to come up with solutions to the problem at hand when you were interrupted by an impatient knock on the door. âIâll get itâ, Roy muttered. Making his way out of the living room, where you had previously stood, and towards the entrance. The moment he turned the lock, the door was swung open by whoever was on the other side, the wooden frame just barely missing Royâs face. Heavy footsteps made their way towards the living room. Roy barely had the time to realise who it was before they were gone, striding towards where you were.Â
âDamian?!â You exclaimed, confused. The green-eyed man stood in front of both Jason and you, wearing his full Robin costume. You wondered how he had gotten here so quickly, the news mentioned how heâd been to both Central City and Coast City, both were relatively far away from your current location. âIâve come to take you home, Y/n. We have been worried for your safety and I see that Todd took full advantage of your little outburst.â Damianâs voice was spiteful, Tim had managed to fuel his ever-latent anger and direct it towards Jason. You tried to rebuke your youngest brother, but Jason stepped in front of you, ready to defend you against the green-eyed menace, âAs if! Theyâre not going back with you, just to end up being ignored by everyone again! Just because Bruce needs his public image to be clean, doesnât make it their problem! So run along, Demonspawn!â Damian did not take well to refusal, let alone Jasonâs uncalled-for name-calling.Â
Damian marched past the taller man and straight towards you. As he tried to grab your forearm, he was thwarted as you defended yourself, blocking his arm and throwing him to the ground. Damian was shocked and Jason was grinning like a proud father. Roy came strolling in at the same time, having checked on Lianâs safety, no problems there. âWhat did you teach them?!â Damian screamed at Jason, blaming him for your newfound strength. âEverything, theyâre a vigilante. Iâm not gonna send them out on the streets without knowing how to defend themselves.â The second oldest brother swung an arm around your shoulders as you stood still, giving Damian a look that promised nothing good.Â
Well, this was unacceptable to Damian, who had silently called for reinforcement, filming your entire interaction so far on a gadget connected to his chest plate. When Bruce heard Jasonâs words, he felt yet another stone sink to the bottom of his abdomen, he had let you become a vigilante, his little Y/n⊠No, this would not do. All of them agreed on this. Once they had you again, they all decided that anything vigilante-related would be kept out of your reach. While both Dick and Bruce were flattered that youâd share a career path with them, they could not accept the danger it brought you in.
It didnât take long for Damianâs request to be honoured, as Bruce and the boys took a zeta tube to Star City and immediately went to Royâs. It took no more than twenty minutes, with Damian engaging in a violent screaming match with Jason, accusing him of kidnapping you, of forcing you to play his mock Robin just to spite your shared father and of many more heinous crimes, which the green-eyed man covered your ears for, despite your attempts to get him to stop touching you. When a barrage of impatient knocks sounded on Royâs door for the second time, he didnât open it. Instead, he opted for locking Lianâs bedroom door and grabbing his bow as well as a handful of arrows, which he had reverse-engineered from Oliverâs original ones, aiming one at the entrance.Â
Of course, none of the dark-haired men on the other side waited for Roy to feel charitable enough to invite them into his home, as Dick harshly kicked the door in, wooden splinters spreading across the entrance hallâs floor. âWhat the hell are you doing in my home!â Roy screamed, hoping it wouldnât wake up Lian. His bow was still pulled tight, an arrow aimed at the newcomers as a threat to not tread further into his flat. âCalm down, speedy. I will replace your door. Iâm here to bring my youngest homeâ, Bruce muttered as he tried to enter the living room, only to be stopped by an arrow flying just past his nose. âDo not take another step. You are intrudersâ, Roy seethed, orange strands of hair swaying in the air as he made his way in front of the bat trio of Dick, Tim and Bruce.
Bruce was almost surprised by Roy's violent reaction. Almost. He was obviously quite aware of the redheadâs close bond with his second oldest, who had in turn evidently been closer to you than he had ever thought. You had moved in together, after all. Bruce did not blame Jason like Damian and Tim, instead, he simply saw it as an accentuation of his own failings as a father. Still, it was a very serious action to threaten the Batman, the very implications of which stunted both Bruce and Tim for just a moment. Dick wasnât, however, immediately turning on his trusted secret weapon, skilful manipulation.Â
With slow steps, Dick managed to get right in front of the archer, putting a caring hand on his shoulder. âRoy. Surely, as a father, you of all people must understand why Bruce wants his child back. Y/n and he needs to mend their relationship. For Y/n. Imagine how theyâll feel years in the future when they have no father to turn to? They have the chance to get a real security net, something which I know you always wanted at their age. Surely, you must realise that just you and Jason canât be enough⊠Not to go into too much detail, but the two of you havenât been known to be the most⊠how would you put it⊠reliable? Stable? âŠclean?â Dickâs mention of Royâs former substance problems broke his initial apprehension. Between Jason, you and him, it was a topic that was never mentioned, it brought back doubts and was probably his second biggest insecurity, his biggest one being⊠âImagine if Y/n was Lian? You would want her to have a father, wouldnât you? Of course, you do! Thatâs why you stayed. Y/n needs a father too, and not just that they need all of their brothers at their side, Jason canât stand in for a father. Surely, you would know.â Dick continued. It was a dirty trick to mention Lian, but it worked as Roy lowered his bow, stepping aside for the Waynes to enter the room where Damian and Jason were currently in a screaming match.
Once Jason saw his other brothers and Bruce, he ripped you away from Damian and tried to push past them, holding your hand protectively and tight. It didnât work, however, as Tim was quick to stun his older brother with a taser, right after Dick had tugged you securely into his latex-covered chest. You didnât quite know what happened after that, Dick pried your lips and teeth apart, dropping a little round tablet on your tongue, before immediately shifting his hand to cover both your mouth and nose. Shifting the pill around in your mouth to not swallow it, while you tried to kick him away, did absolutely nothing. Dick was stronger and a greater fighter than youâd ever be, your attempts at resistance were little more to Dick than a cat scratching his arms. The blue-eyed man held you close with his free arm, gently cooing supportive reassurances as the pill melted in your cheeks, bitter and promising a nightmare when you woke up.
When your eyes opened again, you were laying in your old bed at Wayne manor. The window had been covered up with thick metal bars, spread no more apart than half of your headâs size. Much of your old stuff, which you had brought to Jasonâs primary safe house, was back. They were nowhere near where you had put them when you lived here previously, a testament to how little whoever had reinstated your items actually knew about you. Sitting up, you found that your old cotton bedding had been changed for what you assumed to be silk, it was weirdly soft and you didnât enjoy it in the slightest. Your duvet was a deep shade of green with golden accents, and you immediately knew who was responsible for the change. Damian. Perhaps he was even the one who had moved all your old stuff back. Their methodical placement, with very few items not lining the wall, certainly looked like how Damian had decorated his own room.
 A large red box, filled with all your old clothes, as well as a bunch of new items stood in the middle of your room. You ignored it as you swung your legs over the side of the bed, trying to stand up only to find that your vision was double-crossed and your breaths shallow, you were dizzy beyond measure and your head pounded like mad, not to mention the coating of glistening sweat, which made you feel gross just being in your own body. What in the world had Dick given you?Â
Still, you attempted to move to the door, even if you realised you couldnât stand up without fainting on the spot. Grasping your mattress tightly with both hands, you gently lowered yourself to the cold floor. Moving your legs under you, you managed to sit on your knees. Leaning forward, you took the fall with your palms, now standing on all fours. You hoped no one would ever see you in this state, it was humiliating not being able to move about as you normally did, but you had to get out or at least try. You had no idea what your father and brothers wanted with you, but you had a feeling it was nothing good.  Â
Sliding your shins forward and following the motion with your hands, you slowly made your way towards the door. Raising a hand to the knob, you were surprised when the door swung open by itself. In the door stood Tim, warm towels in his arms. âAh! I saw on the camera feed that you were awake! I thought you might enjoy some pampering.â A beat of silence rang out as you met Timâs eyes, pale blue like a summer sky. You almost impressed yourself as you jumped forward, drilling the top of your head into his knees, making the lanky man fall to the ground with a grunt, as you tried to crawl away as quickly as possible. Tim was quick to get back on his feet, running after you, but you had already reached the closest stairs leading down. It only took one look down the long wooden construction to realise what you had to do, even if it would hurt more than anything. Tim realised what you were trying as he saw your shifty eyes cast a sideways glance down the steps.
 âY/n! Donât you dare!â You didnât let him finish as you closed your eyes and leaned to the side, starting to roll down the steps⊠or at least you would have, had it not been for the iron grip on your forearm. At first, you believed it to be Tim, but as you started to struggle, you realised that the hold was too tight and the hand too strong. Cracking open an eye, you could feel your heart sink into your stomach. Damian. Somehow, your youngest brother was the scariest one. The others were always ambivalent to your presence, but Damian had been openly hostile to you in your youth, oftentimes attacking you verbally or physically, and you didnât doubt he could be violent towards you again. âWhat are you doing, Y/n?â His voice was no-nonsense, yet his eyes were soft. A strange dichotomy. âGetting away from you psychosâ, you mumbled coldly, your throat was dry and the urge to cough arose as you spoke. The green-eyed man looked pensive, a tick in his jaw betrayed how he was trying to hold in his anger. He didnât bother answering your insult, instead, he slung you onto his back and made his way back to your room, sneering at Tim when the two passed each other. Once back in your room, Damian held you down on the bed by your wrists, as he sat next to you. A general meeting was called, involving everyone in the family, except Jason, whom you had no clue where had gone.
Bruce had arrived almost immediately, with Dick prancing in not too long after. You werenât sure what they wanted from you, assuming this was all to save Bruceâs public image, but even if that wasnât the reason, you were sure that it was nothing good. They had all shown up on Christmas just to take you away from the only people you considered close friends and family. No one with good intentions would do something like that. As soon as the offending Waynes had all arrived, you spat out for them to announce the purpose of your kidnapping immediately. Both Bruce and Dick seemed disturbed by you titling their actions as a kidnapping. With the latter trying to defend it as being more of an obligatory change of scenery. It didnât work, and you waited for someone to give you a proper answer with a deadpan. Damian had loosened his grip on you as the others arrived and all sat at the edge of the bed, surrounding you and making sure that you no longer had any possibility of escaping. It was claustrophobic and ominous.
Bruce was the one to explain that they had all led you back home to build the relationships, which you had all been deprived of in your younger years, expressing his regret and familial love for you, something which was echoed by the other men in the room. You were unconvinced. Telling them to drop the act and just tell you the real reason already, exclaiming how you didnât have time to play charades with them. No matter how much they tried to convince you of their sincerity, you would have none of it, throwing their past actions in their face as proof of their dishonourable underlying motives. The meeting adjourned with no real progress made, other than the four of them deciding that you would be a danger to yourself if left alone and, therefore, making a schedule of when each of them would be by your side.
Bruce was shocked at your inability to believe in their love for you, his guilt multiplying by a hundred as he realised how untrusting you had become of your own family. He realised that he was to blame, attempting to grasp your hand, so small compared to his. Yet, when his fingers came close to yours, you jerked away, sending him a stare filled with nothing but disgust and hatred. He swore to change this, to do anything in his power to turn you to the truth of your familyâs love for you, his love for you, his youngest child. The one he had almost let slip away.Â
Dick was heartbroken, he had truly believed that when they revealed their regret, youâd accept them back into your life with open arms. At your apprehension, the acrobat felt as if he was brought right back to when his parents died. Once again feeling his family slip through his fingers. However, this time, he was no longer the innocent bystander, who had done nothing to deserve the situation. No, this time he felt just like the man who had cut the robes of his parentsâ trapeze. He had been the one who sabotaged his relationship with you. Still, he refused to let that be how the two of you would part ways. No. He deserved a second chance, he was your brother, after all. Family doesnât just split with each other because of misunderstandings. He promised you and himself that he would not let it end like this. The two of you would become just as close as he and Damian, no matter how long itâd take. Dick could wait... No, he couldn't.
Tim blamed Jason for your sudden unwillingness to trust their intentions. Not even giving their prior neglect any thought. It was funny how he had practically worshipped Jason when he was younger, but now? Now, he blamed Jason for having corrupted your mind. Tim had completely turned around the memories of you attempting to communicate with him when you were younger. Instead of him telling you to scram every time you walked into his room to talk, he had deluded his own mind into thinking that he used to welcome you with open arms. Certain memories of Conner and him playing video games for hours on end were changed into the two of you doing the very same. He did not blame you for your hesitance, he preferred to solely, yet delusionally, place the entire blame on Jason. The ex-Robin, who had once been Timâs biggest idol, had now turned into his greatest enemy. The way he so readily placed the blame on someone else spoke volumes about his lack of awareness when it came to your lucidity. He was sure that he could turn your mind ârightâ, by that he, of course, meant, âmake you believe his version of eventsâ. Timâs delusional memories mightâve started off as just a plan to manipulate you, but they almost immediately turned into his own perceived truth. Anything to place the blame on Jason and not himself.
While Damian also disliked Jason like Tim, he was nowhere near delusional. He was highly lucid and entirely aware that, yes, they had all treated you like you were nothing more than a nuisance. Yes, you were probably well within your right to deny them any affection or chances. Yes, their new-found obsession with your love had become unhealthy and guilt-ridden, and it was certainly to your detriment. However, Damian had always been selfish and spoiled, two traits of his that he was aware of, yet couldnât find it within himself to change. He was brought up as a prince his entire life, first as the heir to Eth Alth'eban and then as the unofficial prince of Gotham. There had never been anything he wanted that he didnât get, and he knew that you would be no different. He was loyal to any cause he set his mind to and now, you would be it. No matter how much youâd fight, he was willing to keep his course. It was better for the both of you, he would get to enjoy your presence, and hopefully your care, while youâd be protected from any and all harm. Damian would give you the world if you asked, literally, so he saw no reason why he couldnât demand your affection.
After your initial shock at the kidnapping subsided, you came to realise that your familyâs newfound care had nothing to do with their public image, but rather some psychotic break in their mentality. Their affections turned clingy and you slowly started to feel a sense of hopelessness. They never let you be alone and they were so demanding of your affections.Â
Dick was especially bad in that regard, forcing you to cuddle and be physically affectionate, even if you showed an aversion to physical touch. He didnât understand why you wouldnât want to be close with your eldest brother, which meant he lent you little to no understanding in regards to any lack in the enjoyment of his company. Bruce never stopped Dick, always excusing his overly affectionate demeanour and encouraging you to do the same. Dick would in general be very open and clingy in his affection, barely letting you leave the couch or bed so that he could just encase himself around you like plastic wrap, rubbing your cheeks together and otherwise holding onto you tightly. It would really just be a way for him to make sure yiu were still there, that you werenât missing like the night they brought you back. It really changed him deeply. Dick would also likely move back into the manor, much to everyoneâs, except you, delight. That way he could be near you more often and better follow the observation schedule that they set up.
Bruce himself was much more willing to let you have your space, but there were certain things which he demanded, like you calling him dad, or at least father, or you eating your meals next to him. The eating arrangements always put you between Bruce and Damian, across from Dick. If that wasnât bad enough, Bruce also enjoyed watching you eat, feeling a sense of fulfilment as he ensured that you stayed safe and sound. Of course, Bruce had cut you out of vigilante life completely, and if it had been solely up to him, he wouldâve wrapped you in bubble wrap and kept you by his and your brothersâ sides forever. However, he realised that bubble wrap might be uncomfortable and probably wasnât a very breathable material for your skin, so he did the next best thing. He made sure that you were constantly provided for, as well as spoiled beyond measure, giving you any gift that he thought you could possibly enjoy. It was, in a way, his way of giving you back what he felt he owed you for all the birthdays, Christmases and other holidays that he had missed out on. Not only that, but he also enjoyed the idea of him providing for you as a good father should.
Tim spent hours trying to âre-programâ your mind. He would describe in great detail how the two of you used to spend time together. He became frustrated when you explained how none of it ever happened and started to double down, blaming Jason for messing up your mind. Sometimes, Tim would even drag you to his room, which had become even messier as he slowly started to spend less time there and more time with you, and force you to re-enact âyour old memoriesâ by playing the games he remembered the two of you playing. He would force you to sit on his bed, between his legs, as he caged you in with the rest of his lanky body and rested his head on your shoulder. It made you claustrophobic and uncomfortable, but Tim would get pouty and extend the gaming sessions if you tried to get away. The worst part of being with Tim, however, wasnât listening to his delusional rants about your old relationship, no, that was an unavoidable nuisance at best. The worst thing was how he would dirty Jasonâs name with the vilest of allegations, none of them rooted in reality. Everything from Jason kidnapping you, to Jason wanting to put your life in danger to punish Bruce and, worst of all, that Jason was somehow in a conspiracy with the League of assassins to kill you so that Damian would be Bruceâs only true heir. Whether or not you believed anything Tim said in the beginning, it was hard to entirely brush off all his claims as they were repeated to you verbatim almost every day. Sometimes Tim would even present âevidenceâ for his claims, like videos of Jason acting suspiciously, or messages intercepted between Talia and Jason, written in their handwriting, mentioning you in a less than ideal light. Most of this âevidenceâ was either taken out of context or simply fabricated. With many of the letters that Tim claimed were from Talia having been written by Damian, who knew his motherâs handwriting down to the smallest flicker of her wrist.Â
  Damian was perhaps the most refreshing of them. He wasnât nearly as overbearing as Bruce, nor was he as clingy as Dick and Tim. Damian was simply quite demanding. âL/n, sit next to meâ, âL/n, come read with me in the libraryâ, âL/n, come walk with me through the gardensâ, and so on. His commands were easy to follow, and not to be questioned, Now, that was something you could do. Damian was less of an affection seeker, he was more patient than the rest, perfectly willing to wait until you were ready to get emotionally close to him. He would wait, with welcoming arms and a composed smile. If you ever showed Damian any affection, like a hug or putting your head on his shoulder while the two of you were reading, he would experience a brief moment of shock, before laying an arm or two around you, careful not to overwhelm you, but absolutely celebrating like new years in his mind. On the other hand, if you were to try and escape, Damian would have no qualms about breaking both of your legs with a sledgehammer, Annie Wilkes-style. Damian is deeply loyal, both to you and to Bruce, but even more so to himself and his personal beliefs. Once Damian sets a goal, he will not lose sight of it, this is also why he can remain so patient with you, but it also means that even if you somehow calm down the rest of your familyâs yandere tendencies to manageable levels, this will never be the case with Damian. He will forever remain by your side, ready to protect and serve you. He does almost become reverent in his familial love for you, not in a deity-like way, but he does view you as one of the only people set above him, this reflects in the painted portraits, which he will no doubt create for you. Your room and his will both end up covered in your portraits, from different angles, with different hairstyles and so on, it is almost unsettling to see your own eyes staring back at you everywhere you go, almost like a 1984 Big Brother, only it is yourself. Damian will also take you to interact with his pets, he might keep both Titus and Batcow at a distance at first, afraid that theyâll hurt you, however, he almost transfers ownership of Jerry and Alfred the cat to you, thinking you could probably need some non-human companions to help you settle back in. He would also help you re-decorate your room if youâd like, only to sneak in deep green imagery here and there to remind you of him.
They are all exceptionally loving of you, you are their little prince/princess/royal, and they make sure to treat you like one. Alfred is almost embarrassed at the over-the-top behaviour, but he accepts it, as he feels obliged to always go with what Bruce wants. Bruce was once his little boy, (not biologically but in spirit), and he understands why the man acts as he does, even if he disagrees with the intensity of their treatment of you. He does, however, offer brief moments of reprieve, when he takes observation duty and simply lets you sit in the kitchen, munching on a cookie or two, doing whatever you want, as long as it doesnât bring you in danger. It feels nice to just be yourself, even if only for a fleeting instant.
Jason had tried to get you back many times but was constantly being fought back by the rest of the family, physically and mentally. He had tried asking Roy for help, but the redhead was afraid of what theyâd do to Lian, so he refused. The other Justice League members were of no help either, while they enjoyed Jasonâs presence, they were first and foremost Bruceâs friends, and as such took his side in the matter. There was nothing Jason could do, he was powerless to help you as you were practically held captive within your old childhood home.
In short, the family made you the jewel of their eyes, your previous neglect was swept under the rug and youâre expected to forget it or at least forgive them. If I were to rank them from worst to best, itâd probably be Tim, Dick, Bruce, Damian and Alfred, (letâs be honest, heâd definitely turn at least slightly yandere after a while, even if you wonât notice. Heck, the fact that he lets Bruce hold you captive definitely screams âNot entirely against you being here against your willâ). I think Tim would be the worst, as he often puts the need to convince you that you have always been close and his hatred of Jason before your actual wants and needs, and he will do things which you will find traumatic and uncomfortable, just to get you to agree with him. Dick is right behind him, as he puts his own need for extreme physical validation before your comfort and will expect you to forgive him relatively fast, as well as not being particularly sympathetic to your situation. Bruce and Damian are both tolerable, with Bruce being slightly worse due to his extreme overbearingness and lesser patience. Alfred is⊠well heâs Alfred, he treats you like a normal person would, while just being insanely enabling in his lack of action against Bruce. Youâll never escape any of them, so you better get comfortable.
I saw that you have an open request, so I want to share an idea that has been sitting in my head for a long time.
Reader married Bruce for convenience. (In my head, the reader is a woman, but I'll leave it to your taste) The wedding takes place shortly before the appearance of the first Robin. Bruce and reader have a cold relationship. Reader comes from the wealthy population of Gotham. Therefore, reader is well educated and intelligent. So after a while, when Dick already appears, reader understands what her husband does at night. But reading doesn't say anything about it or hint at it. The reader doesn't want to get involved in any of this, it scares her. And although the reader is planning a divorce, she takes care of all the members of her new family. And although she is neglected in the family, the reader becomes a parental figure for children. But the children won't admit it. When Damian appears, the reader doesn't say a word to Bruce. But Damian treats reader very badly. And that becomes the trigger. The reader slips Bruce the divorce papers.(not to mention that they are getting divorced, since Bruce is likely to protest) and when Bruce signs them, he leaves the estate, leaving the divorce papers and the wedding ring on the bed when no one notices. And only then does the family realize what they have done with their neglect of reader. Their yandere trait is waking up in them and now they need to somehow find their reader.
Sorry if it's too much.
And I apologize for the English, I am writing with a translator
â€
Warning: Non-consensual drugging, not descriptive sex. It's just mentioned, no details. Hinted at Dick's trauma with his sidekick.
It was a marriage of convenience. That's all it was. Bruce Wayne knew Y/N L/N since childhood, and while they werenât close, Y/N was the only one who never treated him any differently after his parents were murdered. Maybe it's because her own father was murdered, and she understood that sometimes the greatest support was to act like nothing changed.Â
Fast forward to young adults, Bruce Wayne was now Brucie in public, and Y/N was the unstoppable woman leading her own company by the reins. Bruce had come to her with an offer, one that had her brows raised and painted lips smirking. For Bruce Wayne, this will help solidify his position as someone who was not Batman, and for Y/N it would finally silence the hecklers that gnawed at her heels and bit into her shoulders.Â
A frigid marriage, filled with cold greetings, Brucie still entertaining women, Y/N still controlling her company with painted lips, and rumors surrounding them. Despite the coldness, Y/N knew a lie when she saw one. She knows a front when she comes face to face with one, and it is why when she saw Batman in the hallways of Wayne manor, staring at her in shock and apprehension, she rolled her eyes and continued to sip her wine as she made her way back to her office.Â
âPlease donât stain the carpet. Alfred just shampooed them.â They never brought it up again. Bruce was no Prince Charming, despite the front he put on for strangers. There were no whispered promises, no flowers, no gifts, nothing but âhellosâ and âgoodbyes.âÂ
Then, along came Richard âDickâ Grayson. A child who had blinked up at her with large blue eyes, and Y/N could feel her heart crumble. She had welcomed him with open arms and smiles. She had welcomed all of the Robins in. Her manicured nails getting shorter each time, so she doesnât have to fear hurting one of them, and her smiles became softer. Y/N had never tried to replace any of their motherâs, but that didnât mean she didnât feel like one.Â
But it was Bruce they had a closer bond with. Which is why they started following his behavior towards her. Clipped words and rolling of eyes were common, as were the cold shoulders and tense silences.Â
âYouâre not my mom! So stop asking how school was!â Y/N stared at Jason in shock and curiosity about where that outburst had come from. Alfred was the only one to say anything. A stern, âMaster Jason,â and a look that had even Bruce cowering had the young boy apologizing. Y/N ignored the way her heart slowly broke, as the quirky child full of smiles, sass, and who loved classics, turned his back on her.Â
As if she wasnât the one to introduce those books to him.Â
Y/N doesnât blame them for their cold behavior towards her. She doesnât blame Dickâs disregard, Jasonâs hurtful words, Timâs cynical looks, Stephâs taunts, and Damianâs heated actions. Â
Y/N had cried at Jasonâs funeral, she helped Bruce fight for custody for Tim, she had consoled Dick after some of his own traumatic experiences, and she sat there and listened as Damian compared her and Talia. Talia, of all people. She had met the woman once, and Y/N had nodded at her. Y/N never judged Bruce for sleeping with the woman. Hell, Y/N would have too. Y/N can recall the day Damian came to their manor, and the short look Dick had given her when she and the child made eye contact.Â
Y/N doesnât know if it was a look of concern or mockery, but she knows he did look.Â
She was there for Richard when his trauma with his sidekick happened. He may have never told her, but Y/N is a woman. A woman who has known people that have suffered the same way Dick has. That are still suffering like he is.Â
âIâm sorry Richard.âÂ
âWhat do you even know?! You know nothing! Absolutely nothing so just butt out!â Dick glared at her with blue eyes that had put the arctic water to shame. Y/N stood there and took it all. She stood proudly with her shoulders back and chin up.Â
In public, she was a stoic mother keeping the children in check while Bruce goofed off. She was the woman who failed her children, because she chose to continue running her business. Her very, very, very successful business. A business that had taken her and her mother from the bottom of High Society, to the top 10%. A series of great investments, smart marketing, and pretty words have lined her pockets with money that she could easily retire on.Â
Yet, all that money couldnât save her mother. The woman died of a heart attack, and there was nothing, absolutely nothing Y/N could do besides bury her mother.Â
âBruce please.âÂ
âI am busy.âÂ
âI know but Bruce, this is myââÂ
âAsk Alfred.â He had turned his back and Y/N was stuck staring at the retreating man with a new feeling of heartbreak. The tabloids ate up that she was alone at her motherâs funeral. A private event that no one was allowed into besides close family and friends.Â
When she came back, eyes downcast and shoulders slumped, Damian had picked the time to make his disdain known again, ââand my mother would have never let herself go like that. You look horrid, unbefitting of a Wayne. A disgrace.âÂ
Blank E/C eyes stared into raging green and she sighed, âThanks, Damian.â She spared him no glance after that, and she walked towards her bedroom to take a hot shower. It was there, under the hot spray of water that she finally cried. She cried for the last part of family she had, and the years she lost from marrying a man who didnât even like her enough to attend a godforsaken fucking funeral. She cried for the children she couldnât even call her own.Â
She cried for the life she missed by marrying Bruce fucking Wayne.Â
âHoney, are you happy?âÂ
âOf course Mama.âÂ
âYou never could lie to me sweetie.â Her mother kissed her forehead and looked into E/C eyes with nothing but love, âYouâve worked so hard, sweetie.â That acknowledgement alone had her almost in tears, âBut please start working for yourself now.âÂ
Taking a deep breath, Y/N hopped out of the shower and called her lawyer. Divorce papers were in her hands within 24 hours, and her bags packed in 3.Â
She stood next to Bruce, ignoring the scowl on his face as she âdisruptedâ his work. Y/N kept her face neutral, because if she smiled it would give it all away, and handed him the page he needed to sign.Â
For a billionaire and for a vigilante, he sure didnât read the damn paper. Which is fine. Great even, because now, after being here for over a decade, Y/N is free. She laughed in her room, laughing so hard that it almost tore her throat. Leaving a copy of it on Bruceâs bed once he was gone, she grabbed her suitcase and accidentally ran into Alfred on her way out the door.Â
The old man took a look at her clothes, her bags, and her expression before sighing, âShall I drive you for the last time, Lady Y/N?â Y/N smiled, bitterly at the thought of leaving Alfred, her only solace in this cold mansion.Â
âTo the airport, please.â The ride was silent, and Y/N didnât look back as they left the gates of the mansion. It wasnât until they were halfway there that Y/N spoke up, âMy lawyer will call in a few days, just to hash out the details.âÂ
âIs that so?âÂ
âThereâs nothing I want. No assets, no money, nothing will be taken, I just want a divorce.â She just wants the law to recognize that she is not a Wayne. That she will never be a Wayne.Â
âLady Y/N, perhaps a check for compensation for the emotional strain would be nice?â Y/N laughed, bitterly and sad, âI donât want his money. I want nothing to do with him anymore.âÂ
âAnd the kids?âÂ
âThey donât need me. They never did. I doubt they will even notice.â Gotham International Airport wasnât crowded, and that may be because it was 1pm on a Tuesday. Alfred helped her with her bags, and the old man stared at the woman before him. He remembers meeting her for the first time, a confident young woman who had a way with words and was unfairly intelligent. Matching wits and able to speak confidently in a room of people who thought little of her.Â
It's good to see some of that coming back.Â
Y/N hugged Alfred, âThank you, Alfred. For everything.â The older man sighed and watched as the woman took her bags and walked away. Not once did she look back and Alfred decided to stay until her form disappeared in the building. He sighed heavily and when got back in the car, he dialed a number he knew by heart. It only took three rings before the voice of the man he raised answered, âAlfred, is everything okay?âÂ
âMaster Bruce, I fear you may have lost something precious, and I do hope you, and the young masters, have a plan to make this up to them.â He hung up afterwards as he merged into traffic, and he hoped his message finally hit something within his sonâs dense skull.Â
When he returned back to the manor, he began the preparation for making dinner. All was silent throughout the manor, until the door opened and the rush of the footsteps began marching towards him.Â
âMaster Richard, I urge you to not run.âÂ
âBruce told me there was an emergency and to hurry to the manor?â Alfred sighed, âWhile it is an emergency, it is not one you can fix on your own.â No, this was something for Bruce to fix seeing tha all the problems stemmed from him.Â
Dick raised a brow, âWhat kind of emergency is it?â Alfred pursed her lips, âMiss Y/N Wayne is now Miss Y/N L/N once more.â He turned to look the man he has considered his grandson in the eyes, and he could see the revelation sink in.Â
âY/N divorced Bruce?â Alfred nodded, âThe papers have been signed.âÂ
âBruce would never sign those papers.â Alfred raised a brow, âThey are signed and waiting for him to read.â Dick slowly walked out of the kitchen, âIs she still here?â Alfred turned back to the food and Dick began speed walking towards Y/Nâs room. As a child it never occurred to him why they would they never slept together, but as he got older he understood.Â
He knocked on her doors, calling her name like he used to as a kid.Â
Dick had always understood that Bruceâs and Y/Nâs relationship was not one of a couple in love. He also understood that Y/Nâs treatment in the manor by the residents of the manor was unfair. Whenever he could, he would correct Damianâs harsh words, but even he himself couldnât fully bring himself to be all that kind to her.Â
He tried. He desperately tried, because he saw all that she did for them behind the scenes. He saw the mistreatment and judging looks others would give her as her âhusbandâ was out fooling around.Â
Dick saw the blank look she had given Damian after her motherâs funeral. The one none of them had gone too.Â
âWhat do you mean you didnât go?â His voice panicked as he talked to Tim, âI didnât go. I was under the assumption someone else would go.âÂ
Y/N could have been Gothamâs biggest bitch, but not even then would she have deserved that. What made it worse was that Y/N was not a bitch. She wasnât cruel, or unkind. She was as much of a philanthropist as Bruce was. Always aiding those whose needed it and desperately trying to make Gotham a better place.Â
Dick opened her doors and was greeted with an empty room. Gone were the picture frames, and the closet was empty along with the bathroom. Her prized jewlery, the things she took care of almost obsessively, all of it was gone.Â
He could remember beng 9 and sitting next to her as she cleaned one of her sapphire earrings. Thin fingers with long nail held the earring next to him, a scrutinizing look on her face before she would break out into a grin, âAs I thought, nothing could ever compare to our Dickieâs sapphire eyes.â
âHoly shit.âÂ
âWhatâs going on- why is Y/Nâs room empty?â Tim looked throughout the room, and Dick could see the wonder across his younger brotherâs face. Right, between all of them, Tim and Y/N had the least amount of time spent together.Â
Dick stared at his brother as the image of Y/N smiling at a string of pearls entered his mind. She had explained to him when he asked that pearls, while feminine, also symbolized new beginnings. She had gotten it when Timâs custody was signed over to the Waynes.Â
âSheâs gone.â Tim met Dickâs eyes, âLike⊠taking a vacation gone?â Dick gave a humorless chuckle, âShe divorced Bruce, Tim. Y/N is gone.â This must have been what Alfred saw when he broke the news to Dick. The confusion and then realization coming to light in those blue eyes.Â
âBruce would never sign those papers.â Dick had said the same thing, and yet here she was. Gone. As if to emphasize his point, Dick made an exaggerated expression and motioned to the empty room.Â
Tim looked around and he could feel a headache forming, âBruce is gonna be pissed.â Dick groaned, âFuck Bruce for a second, the only stable-mentally healthy-adult figure that isnât Alfred is gone, Tim.â The boy didnât look all that bothered, âWell, if sheâs happier then I donât mind.âÂ
Of course he doesnât mind. Why? Because this little stalker most likely knows where sheâs going. Tim did a good job hiding it, but Dick was raised by Bruce. He is trained to spot the mciroexpressions of people, and even if they are his own siblings.Â
Tim is panicking. The very thought of Y/N leaving had not once occurred to them, and for Tim who loves planning, this was not once ever in the plans.Â
Not once. Y/N had been a staple within the manor, and to imagine her not being here was rough. Evenw hen she left for business trips, it was fine because they all knew she was coming back. SHe would come back with souvenirs, handing each of them something that reminhded her of them, before running upstairs to get out of the familyâs judgemental line of sight.Â
âFucking hell.âÂ
++++
Bruce entered the condo with ease. His steps light as he walked through the dark room, noting the all the furniture. There was no Y/N in the living room or kitchen, but when he looked out the balcony door, he could see her back. She was leaning against the edge of the infinity pool, without doubt a hot tub of some sorts because it was too cold to be swimming in a regular pool.Â
She didnât even turn around to look at him, her attention focused on the view of the snowy mountains and raging seas in front of her. Bruce could see the wine bottle left on the side of the pool and the glass that looked like it was finished only a short while ago. When she did turn around, E/C reflected the stars and dimly lit light around the pool, making them shine and sparkle like they were the galaxy.
Bruce isnât blind. He knows Y/N is an attractive woman who had many people lusting after her even when they were married. Talia even made a note of it, âYou should see if she wants to join next time.â He should have known that his clipped response was a sign.Â
It was all there, and yet he did everything within his power to ensure that he would not fall in love with her. Falling in love has always been out of the question, and when Y/N came into his life, Bruce made it his mission to do just that. The woman before him had never complained, and she never seemed to fault him for it, but he could tell there was resentment. If he couldnât have allowed himself to fall in love with her, he could have at least offered her friendship. One that made life more bearable for the both of them, and set a good example for the kids.Â
âWhat are you doing, Bruce?â She didnât seem shocked that he was here, let alone in her vacation condo. Bruce took off his shirt and pants, stripping down to his boxers before joining her in the hot tub. He had grabbed two glasses of wine before doing so, handing her one and taking a sip from the other.Â
 âIs it wrong of me to want to join my wife on her vacation?âÂ
âEx-wife. The documents are signed, and besides this is a girl trip.â Bruce re-read those documents and kicked his foot for not fucking reading them when he first signed them. He should have known she was up to something.Â
âY/N, come back to the manor.â He stared into E/C eyes as she took another sip of the wine. Bruce had come with a speech prepared, ready to convince her to come back with him, but it was all lost as he stared and observed the woman in front of him drink delicately from the glass. Y/N L/N has always been a woman of class, even when she was near the bottom of high society. It wasnât her good looks that landed her in the top 10, possibly even top 5%, and like every classy woman, she was only allowed to regret a few things. Their marriage is one, but leaving is not even an option on the list of things she wants to regret but canât.Â
He knows this. She knows this.Â
And yet, Bruce could only focus on how beautiful she looks, and how beautiful she would look sprawled on the silk bed sheets. Y/N has aged like fine wine, looking even more beautifully and worth more and more with each passing year. Aging gracefully and beautifully as the years passed and still catching the attention of others.Â
It's a shame his younger self was more into whiskey than wine.Â
He wonders how different their relationship would be if he had gotten to know her before and during the early years of their marriage. Without a doubt it would be easier to talk to her. Easier to convince her to come back to a manor that now misses her.
âAnd why should I?â Itâd be easier to answer her with a compelling reason, one that would have her actually debating on whether or not to come back. Bruce reached over and brushed a strand of hair out of her face, and heâs shocked that she even let him do that. She didnât flinch, nor did she lean into his touch. Y/N stood still as he moved the H/C lock behind her ears.Â
âThe manor misses you.â Heâs never heard her laugh the way she did in that moment. Throwing her head back and exposing unblemished skin to the night air as she laughed, and continued to laugh. Her shoulders shaking from the force and slightly distilling the wine.Â
Once she was done, her cheeks were red from the laughter and she was gasping for breath, âYeah, okay. So Alfred misses me, Iâll make sure to give him a call then.â She turned her back to Bruce and began walking towards the edge of the pool.Â
âThe boys, girls, and I do too.â Chateau Petra was on his lips and the feeling of cold wine hitting his face and upper chest had him closing his eyes for a second. When he opened them, Y/Nâs wine glass was empty and on her face was a hard expression. Cold E/C eyes glaring into his as she pulled herself out of the pool, and grabbed the rest of the wine bottle.Â
âSleep on the couch. Youâre going home tomorrow.â Her steps quiet as she stalked into her home and she headed for the bathroom. Bruce sighed, and stared at the night sky with a new look in his eyes, âDesperate times call for desperate measures.â He would like to believe that he is above this. He wants to believe that this was the worst case scenario happening and therefore this needs to happen.Â
Has to. The very thought of Y/N being away caused an itch to form under his skin and a burning fire in his chest. A fire he never knew blazed in him until it went out. Now, more aware and protective of it, Bruce found himself craving the warmth in ways that had his mouth foaming and muscles tensing. He looked down at the water and saw the red wine diluting and sprawling throughout the pool water, looking like blood for only a second.Â
A smile curled on his lips and he pulled himself out of the pool water, drying himself off before making his way into the shower with his âex-wife.â They may have never been lovers, but they were two adults living under the same roof.Â
So, of course they have had sex.Â
Hate sex is the best and worst sex. It is the best because Bruce can go as hard as he wants to and Y/N will love it. It is the worse because hate sex is all Y/N will see this as. Y/N will only see it has hate sex and not for the love Bruce feels for her. She wonât feel it in the way he caresses her skin or in the way he leaves his bite marks on her thighs. All Y/N will see this as, is hate sex.Â
Which is fine. If hate sex is what Y/N needs to see this as to work then Bruce will take it. He has time. He has plenty of time to show her how much he cares and loves her. Those divorce papers will be long gone, every single one of those copies non-existent. He loves her. He loves her in the way a cactus loves the sun, or how the stars love the moon.Â
Bruce was so enamored by her, that he couldnât help but to fall deeper. Her soft hands, that have never broken a bone but have broken many hearts, cradling scarred shoulders and sharp cheeks. She didnât flinch when his own rough hands gripped herâs, bruising and secure, and she didnât flinch when intense blue eyes met hers. In fact, she smiled, like this was all a joke he was the butt of it.Â
It pissed him off that even she could have secrets and inside jokes that he doesnât know about. As she laid there, her eyes now closed and body relaxed, Bruce pulled out a syringe filled with something that will keep her asleep. Only for a few days. Barbara is already working on getting rid of the divorce papers and the kids were preparing for her return.Â
Bruce kissed her forehead, smiling down at his Sleeping Beauty. If need be, the manor will be her castle and the kids her vines covered in thorns. Bruce, in all his daunting and terrifying glory shall be the dragon, keeping her locked within her castle because nowhere was safer than the castle. Only she could keep him calm, and only she could make him feel human.Â
(A/N: After 10 monthsâŠI have finally posted something related to Hazbin Hotel đ. Also I have an exam and other assignments that are due tonight but here I am. đ)
Tw: Slight Gore, Mild Suggestiveness, Valentino, if you know Hazbin Hotel well you know what to expect đ
-unedited-
You know how Apple has Siri and Amazon has Alexa?
-Iâm thinking about Vox with a darling whoâs face is on all his products.
-Your basically the mascot for Vox Techâą and is featured in a lot of advertisements.
-Think about Barbie and the many versions of her there are. Your Voxâs Barbie.
-Vox is promoting a new treadmill that is bound to torture you if you donât run? Expect to see your cute little ass in gym clothes running cutely on the machine. Yelping when the robot smacks your ass every time you slow down.
-Vox is promoting a new blender? Expect to see you in a cute apron as you giddily wave to the camera. Placing the head of some poor sinner in the blender as you press a button. Blending his head to mush. You even pose cutely as some blood splatters on your sweet innocent face.
-Vox is designing some killer high heels that work as self defense? Like they have buttons that releases pepper spray or sheathe knives or any kind of weapon. There you are swaying your hips as you kick your foot out, your heels sheathing out a gun that shoots the camera.
-Youâre everywhere.
-Billboards, advertisements, your face is known by all in the Pride Ring.
-If Voxâs name is on it, then youâll be on it as well.
-Like all of hell that buys a phone from Vox Tech will have your voice on it.
-Anyone can put a name on you. Some assholes name you bitch, âHey, bitch what time is it?â âItâs 12:00 pm! Have an amazing afternoon!â
-But the common nickname that has stuck on you is Bunny.
-No one knows who came up with it, but Vox liked it so much that he decided to claim it.
-So officially your name is Bunnyâą. Anyone that takes that name will be sued by Vox Corp, thank you~!
-But you donât display any bunny characteristics, neither do you have any demonic qualities.
-Youâre human. Or at least you appear to be.
-But there is an eeriness to you.
-Like you know all those people in the Mandela Catalog that mimic being human? Thatâs you but thereâs a deadness to your eyes that freaks people out if they look too closely.
-On posters or promos youâre this cute little mascot with your frilly pink skirt and your cute poses. Bows in your hair and pink glittery makeup adorning your face.
-But even though your holding up a peace sign and you have this big grin on your gloss covered lips, your big eyes hold no shine. Not even a glint theyâre just so dead. But thatâs easy to ignore with how you look.
-Your exotic in a way, a human that has no place in Hell. A relic of the past for many sinners. No sinner will ever see a human again. But they at least get to see you.
-With smooth skin and blunt teeth. No horns or glowing eyes or a tail swinging behind you. You are everything human.
-Many sinners are drawn to you either by your humanity or your pretty face. Youâre famous admired by all and lusted after. They want to see you, touch you.
-And Vox? He hates it.
-You know how Angel Dust is Valentinoâs obsession? His big star? Well thatâs you and Vox, but heâs a bit too much.
-In areas where Angel Dust can leave Valentinoâs studio, your prohibited from leaving Vee territory. Ever.
-Youâre already a mystery throughout the Pride Ring. They donât know if your an actual living breathing human or sinner. They donât even know if youâre real or just some A.I. that Vox created.
-Everyone knows you, but no oneâs seen you.
-And Vox will keep it that way.
-At first when Vox had stumbled upon you. A freshly fallen sinner, he had taken advantage of your naivety and tricked you into signing your soul to him.
-He used your image as a joke. He knew a human looking sinner would bring in mass attention.
-And he wasnât wrong. You did wonders for advertising.
-However, the more he spent time with you, the more obsessed he became. Everything about you was a breathe of fresh air.
-It was a break of the toxicity of the other Vees, with Velvetteâs cruel personality and Valentinoâs abusive tendencies, you were kind.
-Thereâs this golden retriever energy to you, wide soulless eyes that blink up at him. Even though your eyes give him the creeps itâs direct contrast against your bubbly persona. Always smiling never frowning. An energetic little thing.
-You always looked happy.
-Even though he owns your soul, anyone would think he never tricked you with how you treat him like an old pal. You show no hostility to him when you smile brightly at him. Showing kindness and obediently following his orders.
-He found it amusing.
-âBunny, hop.â
-âOkay!â
-âBunny, sit.â
-âMhm!â
-âBunny, jump down to the fourteenth floor.â
-âŠ
-âBuNnY, NO-!â
-You were an interesting sinner.
-Before he knew it he was spending time with you every waking minute. Youâd follow him to important meetings in Vox Tech and heâd be directly involved in any of your appearances to the general public.
-And the protectiveness possessiveness he held for you.
-âWHO THE FUCK PUT HER IN THAT DRESS?! SHEâS BARELY WEARING ANYTHING! THIS IS A COMERCIAL FOR A FUCKING REFRIGERATOR FOR FUCKS SAKE!â
-âValentino said you wanted this, sir.â
-âugh, of course he would- Sweety! Come over here! Weâre gonna give you a new dress change, okay?â He coos to you.
-âOkay sir!â You say with a big smile, pulling down the extremely tight short dress down your butt. Placing an arm around your chest to make sure none of your breasts slip out.
-He grew attached to you. To an extreme level.
-Heâs always has your hand in the crook of his arm. Walking with you while giving out orders to his henchmen.
-While working on paperwork, he has you sitting on his lap while you furiously play on your Nintendo DS (strangely enough you brought it with you from the human realm). Zoned in on a game about dressing and impressing.
-And he even got you a little cage to sleep in his room. Though in later months youâd be sleeping in bed with him.
-âGoodnight Bunny.â
-âGoodnight, sir!â You say giddily in your cage.
-Yeah, your an odd sinner. With your human look and your inability to be anything but happy. There was something wrong with you.
-And something even more wrong with him with how he keeps you in a cage when he feels like too many sinners are looking at you. Heâd later understand that his possessiveness comes from his blooming feelings for you.
-He often wonders how you managed to get into Hell. Thereâs no hostile bone in your body. But he often feels immensely uncomfortable when you stare at him for too long. Those big soulless eyes, a mystery he will never get to the bottom of.
-Other than that, he loves being around you.
-But by the time he knew how much you meant to him and how he wanted to keep you for himself.
-Bunnyâą was already so intertwined with Vox Tech that he knew removing your image would damage the company. Now he didnât want that.
-So he kept you as Vox Techâs main mascot, obsessively managing you as his biggest star.
-If he canât have you all to himself than he will at least make you perfect. Make everyone else jealous that they canât have you.
-It especially works with his fellow Vees to his misfortune.
-He has to fight Velvette whenever she tries to take you away for modeling gigs. Claiming that your a better model than the other useless ones she has.
-âEveryone else is not meeting my standards! I need Bunny! Donât be a selfish prick, you flat faced asshole!â She screeches stomping her feet.
-âWell thatâs not our problem isnât it, Bunny?â
-âWhatever you want Mr. Vox!â
-Donât even get him started on the weekly back and forths with Valentino who is hellbent on starting your pornstar career. Which never fails to trigger him into a rage.
-Heâll allow Velvette to use you for modeling her newest outfits (knowing that your face will bring in clientele) but he draws a hard line in porn filming. Which pisses off Valentino to hell and back.
-Itâs a topic that has put more of a strain on his and Valentinoâs relationship. What with the giant moth man throwing a tantrum and Vox fiercely yelling back at him that. Any meeting between the two has high tension every since you came along.
-Meanwhile you and Angel Dust would be drinking slushies in your dressing room. Slushies bought from the Vox Tech cafeteria, of course! You canât leave remember!
-As the biggest stars of your respective soul owners, you and Angel Dust quickly became friends.
-He finds your human face cute and you think his white fuzzy face is adorable.
-Whenever the two of you have breaks and your respective bosses are busy, you both hang out. Heâll give you the latest gossip around Hell while doing his makeup and youâll pretend to act scandalized even though he knows that you love the drama he tells you about. He is your only connection to the world outside of Vee territory. Without him you wouldnât know anything going on in the Pride Ring.
-He thinks your a strange one thatâs for sure. While anyone else would be sad about losing ownership of their souls, you seem oddlyâŠcheery.
-Especially when he knows how you canât leave the Vees territory and Vox is constantly breathing down your neck.
-He shudders at how closely the television demon has you monitored he wouldnât be surprised if heâs constantly watching you. (He is).
-Heâd love to take you out on a spin with Cherry Bomb. He knows you two would hit it off. He even entertains the idea of you going back with him to the Hazbin Hotel. Away from this place, away from Vox.
-He knows theyâd like you. Especially Charlie.
-His mismatched eyes soften as you show him your Nintendo DS, excitedly showing him games that you play.
-You a friendly face in a room full of predators. He remembers all the times youâd cheer him up after a horrible day at the job. Bringing him takeout to his dressing room and giving him hugs. You would soothe his cryings and take care of any damage that Valentino bestowed upon him.
-The confident spider doesnât make a mention of how you see âa weaker sideâ of him. Embarrassed of being seen in a crying heap and looking vulnerable. But you know heâs grateful when you never make a mention of it. Distracting him from the sad reality that is his life.
-He knows you get punished by Vox when you do sneak away but you donât seem to mind.
-Youâre a light in the dark cutthroat environment that is the Vee territory.
-But he wonders if you have a light in this dark place?
-When both of your bosses come back, you have to say your goodbyes. You give him one last hug before skipping to Vox. The demon that owns your entire existence.
-Heâs dismissed by Valentino (with threats to come back of course) while Vox slides a possessive arm around your waist. His hold tight and unyielding. Angel Dust knows how much Vox canât stand being away from you.
-You walk away with Vox, waving back at him. He sadly waves back.
-He knows that answer is a no when he sees your dull eyes. Big eyes with no light. No soul.
fanfiction & aesthetics:         âłÂ What's Your Frequency, Baby? by @elleinmotion
Youâre not sure how you, a popular late night radio DJ from the aughts, deserved to be cast in the fiery pits of Hell with a capital H, but here you are. And because the universe is playing a running gag reel on even your afterlife, you find yourself the focus of an avid fan of your segments back when you were topside in the land of the living and he was tuning in from Hell.
fanfiction & aesthetics:         âłÂ Whatâs Your Frequency, Baby? by @elleinmotion
Youâre not sure how you, a popular late night radio DJ from the aughts, deserved to be cast in the fiery pits of Hell with a capital H, but here you are. And because the universe is playing a running gag reel on even your afterlife, you find yourself the focus of an avid fan of your segments back when you were topside in the land of the living and he was tuning in from Hell.
Beast Ancients AU - Neo Beasts x Reader Headcanons
Congratulations! Someway somehow youâve attracted the attentionâand affectionâof the Neo beasts. How do each treat you?
Saint Vanilla Cookie
This implies that heâs decided not to purify you out of his intense compassion. In fact, heâs settled for something arguably much worse: saving you for last, so you can witness his deliverance.
Youâre his lamb, his bluebird, and he never lets you forget how blessed you are to be one of his
Heâs gentle in almost every way. Voice, touch, words. He especially likes cupping your cheek and cooing sweet little things. Sometimes theyâre laced with dark promises
On his orders, the Lambs of Penance are your personal servants and wonât let any harm befall you. Cream Wafer speaks to you respectfully, but you can hear a little envy in his voice
Saint pays attention to every little detail you have, the things you like, and your wishes. He wants to see you at your happiest because a tainted soul as yourself should never feel sad. Heâll wipe your tears away
But donât assume heâs perfect; heâs far from. Saint stays true to his personal promise that you will be safe and happy and alive until the day he finally saves you, and that means that any potential threat to you will be dealt with by his lambs. If he thinks something will taint your soul further, heâll be sure that itâll never have the chance.
In fact, why donât you stay with him? In his timeless kingdom, amongst his loyal followers and all the orchids that will watch over you. Itâs the closest youâll be to the light.
Make no mistake, saint is two steps away from being a yandere. He just wouldnât get his hands dirty, and he would never change to that typical yandere-ish behavior. The oh so benevolent saint just wants to see you safe, and if that safety is under his wings, so be itâŠ
Dragonberry Cookie
As the Beast of Pride, the way she loves is bold and loud. She will make it known to you that she loves you pretty quickly.
While she throws parties pretty frequently already, youâll be center stage at a lot of them with her as she makes you dance together and drinks herself stupid with a bunch of glasses poured your way as well.
If youâre the shy type, expect to be embarrassed or put in big social situations a lot since sheâs a massive extrovert who would bring you along to things. Outside of parties and other events of the sort, she would also love for you to watch her spar with Wildberry and her other soldiers
Sheâll also give you lots of gifts
She does have a pretty big ego though, so she expects praise and validation from you. Compliments, acts of service, things that assure her youâre not just mooching off of what she gives you. If she thinks youâre not being grateful, sheâll get bitter and confront you about it, which will or wonât go well depending on how well you can prove your point to her
Sheâll kill for you 100%. She might even do it in front of you. If you get messed up from that? Itâs okay! Youâll get over it in no time.
Despite all this she does respect your boundaries, sheâll give you space if youâre vocal about it. She disappears on occasions and comes back covered in battle wounds and jam anyway.
You know about Pitaya locked up in her basement but you know not to touch them, let alone try and free them if youâre hero enough. She might just have to punish you for that if she catches you doing something you shouldnât. Donât worry though, itâs just this once, because youâll surely never try anything again, right?
Big hugger, her love language is touch so expect hugs and kisses and mandatory cuddle sessions. Honestly if youâre just as messed as her then sheâs a pretty solid lover
Frigid Cacao Cookie
Itâs hard to tell he cares for you because heâs so distant, even from you.
Youâre allowed into the throne room without summons, but the furthest into it you can go is to the foot of his throne. Like everyone else in the citadel, youâre not allowed to touch him.
Your days in the citadel are quiet. The outside is cold but the hallways and your room are warm, the latter always supplied to the brim with what you need.
Tiny licorice creatures slink in and out of your peripheral vision, watching you curiously. Sometimes they slink up to you, purring and chittering, and some might even be balancing trays of food, warm towels, clothes, or other things on their heads. Little do you know that Cacao has been ordering them to take care of you
While he doesnât forbid you from leaving the kingdom, heâll want you to come back to him one way or another. Ideally on your own, but one of the licorice oozes that have been watching you since you left could also bring you back.
You might see him out and about on rare occasions, and he might look at you. On even rarer occasions he might ask about your well being
The only thing heâs strict about is that you absolutely cannot attract attention from the other neobeasts, especially Saint Vanilla. The beast of Penance is already curious about learning what things make Cacao go soft; he does not need to learn about you.
Also donât bring up Choco, he has a reaction to it
Celestial Cheese Cookie
Pampers you. Pampers you and pampers you and pampers you and pampers you
Thinks youâre the sweetest little thing and pinches your cheeks and everything
Sheâd be more than happy to show herself off, as well as all of her achievements. She gives you treasures from her conquests regularly
Sheâs similar to Dragonberry though where she expects praise, but unlike her she doesnât get as angry. She doesnât see her gift giving as a transactional thing, she does it because she can. You just gotta tell her how wonderful she is
The oases are a popular spot for her to bring you for food and refreshments, cared for by gold-adorned servants as she gushes over the grand vision for her kingdom. Sheâs honestly quite excitable and loves talking about herself and her plans.
Pay no mind to the scans that are run on you while you sleep, or the diagnostics of your information that run deep in her servers. She doesnât think itâll need to happen soon, but sheâs planning to put you in a sarcophagus and hook you into her virtual world to make you live forever. Sheâs not going to let something else she cares about go.
Midnight Lily Cookie
The tamest one honestly
Unlike the others, she sees you as an equal. She knows your personal space and doesnât encroach on it too much or too little, makes sure youâre well cared for and healthy, and keeps you safe. She also lets you leave and trusts you to take care of yourself. Being Beast of Sovereignty, she encourages the people under her to do whatever they please within their allegiance to her, and this includes you.
Sheâll play the harp for you and ask you how she did
You also get lots of gifts and compliments from the other faeries for being the lover of their queen
She does have preferences though. She likes honesty and expects you to keep promises, she prefers if you do something for her in exchange for her doing something for you, and to not question her motive and means to take down her other half. She will get very defensive with you and shut down the conversation pretty fast
The flora in the silver kingdom bloom to their fullest around you both, but when Lily is upset with you, they curl or bud as you pass by them.
Speaking of chlorokinesis, get used to seeing her show no mercy with her plants. Unlike Dragonberry though, sheâll do her best to help you if the sight of bodies skewered on flower stems is too much. Maybe stick to the heart of the kingdom for your own good, where youâre less likely to see how the rest of Beast Yeast challenge her kingdom.
She has a whole bunch of rules set up when Saint visits. While sheâd encourage not being with him at all, if you really want to see him, she made it expressly clear to him that he cannot purify you.
Since no one has answered my prayers, I've decided to put them into action myself. So, enjoy the show! The reader is gender-neutral, so all can enjoy/suffer reading this; it probably won't be my best. Also note, THIS IS A ONE-TIME THING TO GET IT OUT OF MY SYSTEM. I DO NOT TAKE WRITING REQUESTS, THIS ISN'T A WRITING BLOG
july 14 2026: yeah this was going nowhere đ I've lost all interest in forsaken so this is done. Hope yall enjoy this scrapped work.
Ever since you've been brought to this realm, everything has been a struggle for you. Day after day, you've been subjected to these "rounds" of being chased by some killer for the entertainment of a greater entity.
You struggle to connect with most of the other survivors since they seem to be dealing with... their own personal issues amongst each other, to which you do not want to be involved in. Despite this, you've acquainted yourself with Dusekkar and Guest 1337 after the two of them protected you from a fatal attack from one of the killers.
You would often find yourself around Dusekkar's calming presence whenever you felt overwhelmed, and you would protect him as much as he protects you during rounds. Though his way of speaking may confuse you most of the time, he's a good friend to have by your side.
And then there was Guest. You find him to be the strongest out of all the survivors in more ways than one, which you adored. The two of you got close after your first interaction. Often talking about your personal lives, as you both rest after another round. You've learned a lot about him, as he does with you. It made you feel special. He made you feel special.
It didn't take long for you to develop feelings for Guest, and it made you panic. You knew that Guest was already happily married to another, and you didn't want to complicate the friendship you had with him. You've thought of the many things that could go wrong if you even imply that you had feelings for him. What if he gets uncomfortable with you after you tell him? What if he stops talking to you?? What if he HATES you?!?!
.
Okay that's a bit of a stretch but the point is he's already taken.
Naturally, you kept these thoughts and feelings to yourself. Keeping your distance whenever catching yourself gushing about him, even if it gets you killed during rounds. As the days went on, these bad habits would soon catch up to you gravely.
You started to feel sick, the illness weakening your body. Your lungs felt heavier, and it was getting harder for you to breathe by the day.
You knew what was happening to you all too well, and it scares you. You tried to hide it, how you had less stamina, how you died more often, how you looked so nauseous all the time. Yet, Dusekkar seemed to notice all of this and confronted you about your odd behavior. You tried brushing him off, but he was insistent on figuring out what was up with you.
Unfortunately for you, you puked once again, in the middle of Dusekkar's interrogation.
I am not going to make a part 2 chat don't even ask. This isn't a writing blog vro ask someone else to write a part 2 for you man I'm sorry đđ
