#i'm here again asking things...for science

[slumbering-lore]

So I've seen Mairon (Sauron) being depicted both as A Werewolf and Werecat, so Evil Twink™ fans (or not), I have a question-

Do you prefer canid! Mairon or feline! Mairon? (And why? if you wish 🥺)

[eknippp]

Some of our favorite quotes from Artemis ii so far:

"Copy. Moon joy."

"I have two Microsoft Outlooks, and neither one of those are working."

"Houston, if you could give me about 20 new superlatives in the mission summary for tomorrow that will help out my vocabulary a little bit, that would be great. Thank you."

“If you’ve ever seen the top of the spotlight of the top of the Luxor at night in Vegas, this looks like what it wants to be when it grows up.”

"To all of you down there on Earth... we love you, from the moon. See you on the other side."

"We just went sci fi.

"It is so great to see Earth again. To Asia, Africa, and Oceania: we are looking back at you. We hear you can look up and see the moon right now. We see you too."

"We will always choose Earth. We will always choose each other."

“It’s a bright spot on the moon, and we would like to call it Carroll.” (The name of Commander Reid Wiseman's late wife)

"Amaze amaze amaze."

"I said that we do not leave Earth, but we choose it. And that is true."

"Christina has been sleeping head down in the middle of the vehicle, kind of like a bat"

"It's really fun to be floatin' around, it just makes me feel like a little kid."

"Trust us, you look amazing, you look beautiful."

"'Homo Sapiens' is all of us, no matter where you're from or what you look like. We're all one people."

"We're going to power cycle the toilet from the ground."

"I'm proud to call myself the Space Plumber."

"We were all eagerly awaiting the chorus." (After Mission Control cut off Pink Pony Club early when waking up the crew)

"Copy heart. Copy bracelet." (In response to Wiseman giving his daughters heart hands and showing them the bracelets they made him that he was wearing)

“Welcome back. We are still here. They are in space.”

"Copy. Bubble wrap nominal."

"We have rediscovered the chocolate snacks."

“The truth is, the moon really is its own body in the universe. It's not just a poster in the sky that goes by, it is a real place."

“We will build ships. We will visit again. We will construct science outposts. We will drive rovers, we will do radio astronomy.”

This whole mission was scientific and so humane.

"I've seen a lot of new perspectives, but my perspective has not changed because I launched with the perspective that there is enough for all." (After being asked if they had a new view on humankind.)

"On behalf of all Canadians, we wanted some reassurances of your preferences for maple syrup over Nutella on your pancakes."

"And we have a great view of the moon out window 2. Looks a little smaller than yesterday." (Reid), "Guess we'll have to go back :)" (Mission Control).

"Earth is like a spaceship where we all live."

"I can see from here that we see no lines, no boundaries , no race. Only humans, who all are dependent on the same thing. Planet Earth is a crew."

“Hooray for snack! You can put that in the locker.”

“Find your fulfilment. Find what you can do the slowest, for the longest and still absolutely love it, and go in that direction.”

[feyrinnn]

pms? tender breasts? don't worry, your ꒰devoted꒱ boyfriend satoru gojo is happy to be your personal bra for the day ౨ৎ 1.1k fluff ; crack ; suggestive art by @/Rezijellyfish0

It was a morning like any other.

You woke up curled right into your boyfriend Satoru Gojo's side, practically on top of him on the comfortable double bed. You didn't really have much room, not with his habit of lying down like a starfish, but you couldn't blame him – his long limbs just needed to take up all the space every night, and so you were forced to use your boyfriend as a pillow, of course.

Your favourite pillow.

You were awfully comfortable like this, nuzzling into his broad chest as the morning light started to bleed in through the half open window. Yes, so comfortable you could just drift away again... until.

Until those long limbs started to close in towards you.

That was another one of his morning habits, you see. Even for how spread out he liked to sleep, as soon as Satoru started to drift back into consciousness – you were the first thing he'd search for.

In his half asleep haze he closed his arms around you, squeezing you into him with all his might, letting out the most satisfied of hums. Not you, however – the sound that escaped your mouth was somewhere between a yelp and a cry for help.

"Baby?!" Satoru sprung into consciousness in a second. "What's wrong?!"

His bright blue eyes snapped open to see you pouting at him, hands over your already very sore breasts that he had painfully squeezed against his side. "Oh" he frowned, understanding. "It's that week, isn't it?"

You nodded slowly, letting Satoru manoeuvre you on your back so he could rest on his elbow next to you. When you first found out he was tracking your cycle you did call him a freak, but to be honest, it was worth it with how gentle he was with you now.

"Is it really bad?" he asked, tracing soft lines over your collarbone with his free hand. His touch was feather light, his hand apologising to your tender skin.

"It hurts" you exhaled, letting your head sink into the pillow with a long sigh. "They feel heavy"

"Heavy?" Satoru echoed, very obviously looking down to your chest. Naturally, you pinched him. "Ow! What was that for?"

"I'm in pain and you want to check if they're bigger?!" you growled, ready to throw a pillow right on his stupid white hair.

"No no no, you know I think they’re perfect” Satoru apologised immediately, peppering kisses all over your face. "It was for science only"

"Sure" you rolled your eyes, but you couldn't keep the angry act for long, not with your boyfriend's puppy dog eyes so close to your face.

"I mean it, I only want to help" he said, sitting up. And you did believe him – your boyfriend had been trying his best since he figured out how difficult pms was for you.

Last month, he even bought you a personalised hot water bottle with both your initials on it. Baby blue, of course.

You weren't sure who else would be confusing their hot water bottle for yours anyway, but its the gesture that counts.

"Come here baby, I'll help you up" he called to you with wide open arms, but as soon as he started to pull you up, you groaned again. "Is it that bad?" he grimaced, seeing your hands go back to holding onto your sore breasts.

Unfortunately, it was.

"It's ok" you tried to deflect, feeling bad for how worried he seemed. "You don't have to worry about m–"

"None of that" Satoru pouted. "Does that help?" he nodded to your hands, clearly some sort of plan starting to form in that head of his.

"Kind of" you replied, massaging yourself. "Should probably put on a bra" you sighed.

"In bed?!" Satoru shook his messy white hair side to side. "It's unfair" he completed solemnly. And you agreed with him.

But then he opened up his mouth again, with that tone he employed when he was going to suggest something... unusual.

"Why don't you...let me help?"

That made you stop halfway, turning up to look at him. "What do you mean?"

"Just… come here" he said, extending those pale fingers to you. You had one raised eyebrow, but let him do what he had intended – and soon his large palms were closing around your breasts.

"Pervert" you deadpanned.

"You said it helped!" he argued.

You took a moment, considering. You were very used to your boyfriend touching you everywhere, of course, but you had never seen him look so commited about it. It was almost endearing, in a kind of, um, odd way.

"So, what, you'll just be my personal bra today?" you teased.

"If you want me to" he nodded.

"Aren't your arms getting tired?" you narrowed your eyes at him.

"Baby, this is what I train for" he replied smugly.

You let out a little laugh, enjoying your boyfriend's silly plan and how serious he was about it. "You can't possibly keep this up" you joked.

"Wanna bet?"

You shouldn't have said yes. But of course you did.

The rest of the day was spent with Satoru glued to you – more so than usual. "You're enjoying this" you poked him as he stood with his chin on top of your head and his hands right where he promised they'd be, watching you make your morning coffee.

"You wound me, princess" he pretended to sigh. "This is for your own good"

Sure it was.

Later you sat down to watch TV, and Satoru placed you right on his lap, before his hands returned to your chest. "You're ridiculous" you laughed, his chin heavy on your shoulder this time and your back to his chest.

"Is it helping?" he asked.

In truth, it was. He was warm and soft and much more comfortable than a real bra; and walking around like you had been cursed into attachment was lifting your mood as much as it was annoying you too.

His eccentric ways were just one of the things you loved about your boyfriend, after all.

Of course, this all got a bit too ridiculous when you announced you were going to shower, and got followed by the white haired giant all the way into the bathroom. "You can't be serious" you looked up at him.

"I only want to hel–Ow! Ok, I'll be outside"

You laughed, seeing his pout as he closed the door behind him. It was adorable how devoted he was to this stupid plan – and you also couldn't deny you missed his loving touch as soon as he had let go of you.

Maybe he could help you shower too. He only wanted you to feel better, right?

"Satoru" you called, not even surprised when the door opened before you had even finished saying his name.

"Need me?" he grinned from ear to ear.

You would have pinched him again if he wasn't so damn adorable.

my boobs feel like they're about to explode and this is what came of it I don't know what else to say

permatags @madamechrissy @mercipourleveninx @septembermoonchild @plaguecxlt @nanamitiddiechomper @kekeanna266 @amazedfor @dogggggggblog-kaye @literallyadarling @dawnsoblivion @chewiebee @iquitfindingausername @valberryboos @pwd54gr54 @raendarkfaerie @bbfawns @itimisu @sapph22 @bornafairy @sukunahs @hatchus2 @sukubusss @pawwwginaaa @b-bitter

dividers by @strangergraphics

[doggirlpaws]

If I had capital-s Superpowers I wouldn't use them to punch alien gods, I'd use them to become a science youtuber.

"Hi guys, welcome back to the channel, I've got a real treat for you today! You might notice the lab looks different, I didn't want to risk putting anyone else in danger with today's experiment and if you've been reading the news this week you'll know that a bunch of big important people on Earth are pretty mad at me right now, so I'm shooting this episode on the moon!

"This is uranium-238, an extremely rarified form of the uranium used in some nuclear reactors. If I get the camera closer, you see that 'snow' appearing in the image? That's caused by individual radioactive ions escaping from the uranium. It's warm to the touch and very pliable. See how easily it's bending? Compare that to how much force I had to use to flatten out that tungsten cube last week, remember how that took both hands?

"Anyway, I know what you're going to ask,"

*voice clip of Snake from metal gear solid saying 'But how does it taste?'*

"Well, we're going to find out! I'm just going to tear off a tiny bit here... Hmm. The taste and texture is similar to lead, but warm and a little fizzy. That would be from those escaping ions hitting the skin cells of my tongue and bouncing off. I'd better spit this out quickly, if one of those bounces back into the uranium it could-

*a loud but muffled explosion sound is heard*

"Okay, so that was what's called a fission reaction! A little nuclear explosion went off in my mouth! That was certainly a new experience, I don't think I want to do that again. It wasn't nearly as much fun as the lava I ate back in the Hawaii video.

"Well, I'm going end this one here and get all these things ready for the next part of their journey. Stay tuned for part 2, where we see what happens when I throw the world's entire nuclear arsenal into the sun! As always, stay safe, stay curious, and have a Super day!"

[swaguicide]

.ᐟ JL x hated hero!Reader

<you are here> part 2

the party's done

and I'm no fun

I know

I KNOW

You never knew why they hated you.

That was the thing that kept you awake.

You remembered when it wasn’t like this.

It wasn’t always like this

When you first joined, they welcomed you handshakes, nods, smiles. You thought you’d earned your place. You worked harder than anyone. You stayed later. You listened more. You helped because that’s what heroes were supposed to do.

hell even Superman gave you a hug and a hand shake telling you “welcome”

But something shifted.

And you felt it.

and then you saw it..

Wonder Woman stopped asking your opinion during strategy sessions. Superman thanked everyone except you. Aquaman spoke over you like you weren’t there. Green Lantern barely hid his annoyance, rolling his eyes when you spoke, scoffing when you corrected him.

Batman stopped meeting your gaze entirely.

That one hurt the most.

Lunch made it obvious.

A table full of heros, gods, and your idols. and somehow you were always alone. Not because there weren’t seats—because no one wanted to sit next to you. Conversations died when you approached. Barry laughed loudly with others, then went awkwardly quiet when you passed, like your presence ruined the mood.

If you were late to a meeting, no one saved you notes.

They just said “sorry didn’t bring any notes”

During briefings, you could feel it—eyes narrowing when you spoke, tension tightening the room. When you pointed out legal consequences or civilian risk, batmans jaw clenched.

Once, he said it aloud.

That—that hurt the most.

“Y/N,” Batman said flatly, “you could’ve helped if you’d been paying attention.”

You had been paying attention.

But no one backed you up.

Wonder Woman looked away. Superman stared at the table. Aquaman crossed his arms. Guy smirked like he’d been waiting for this. Even Barry didn’t joke—just scratched the back of his neck and avoided your eyes.

Only shazam looked at you.

That awful, knowing pitying look.

You hated that look.

You noticed how they talked to Guy more than you. How they laughed at his jokes, tolerated his temper, forgave his mistakes!

You noticed how your name never made it into press releases. How there were figures and plushies and posters of everyone else—even alternates, even temporary members.

You searched once.

Nothing.

Again—nothing

You weren’t any kids favorite hero.

That realization settled deep in your chest, heavy and suffocating.

You dont even think people like you.

On patrols, your voice was ignored on comms. You warned them about risks they brushed you off. You suggested alternatives they dismissed you. if anything bad happens its on you.

Once—just once—you stopped talking altogether.

No one noticed.

You helped Barry with science. Helped shazam with homework. Wonder woman research old laws. Helped batman refine protocols.

And they hated you for it.

Maybe you made them uncomfortable. Maybe you reminded them that justice wasn’t just punching harder. Maybe you were proof that you didn’t need to be chosen by magic or born powerful to belong.

Or maybe they just didn’t like you.

or maybe they found something out?

Maybe this will all just blow over

You loved them once.

God—you loved the Justice League as a kid. You believed in justice. In fairness. In heroes who protected people because it was right, not because it looked good.

You loved justice you always wanted to be a hero or a lawyer.

Now you saw the truth.

Heroes were still people.

And people could be cruel.

You were drowning in the thought—heavy, spiraling, familiar—when a voice cut through it.

“Y/N.”

Nothing registered.

“Y/N?”

Suddenly—

CLAP

Right by your ears.

“Ow!” You flinched, jerking back as your phone nearly slipped from your hands as you almost got up your chair scraping the floor.

Flash stood there, hands raised, a forced grin on his face. “Uh… you okay?”

The room snapped into focus.

The table. The paused hologram. Batman’s cold stare. Wonder Woman’s distant expression. Superman’s tight, uncomfortable smile. Aquaman’s impatience. Guy’s barely concealed irritation.

Shazams pity.

That same look.

And it hit you all at once.

They didn’t hate you because you were useless.

They hated you because you didn’t fit.

You weren’t loud. You weren’t powerful. You weren’t chosen. You didn’t shine.

You just… existed.

And that made you easy to dislike.

You swallowed, straightened your spine, forced your voice steady despite the ache in your chest.

“Sorry,” you said quietly, As you sit back down.

No one replied

And you wondered—briefly, bitterly—how long it would take before they realized they didn’t need you at all.

Because if they did—they wouldn’t treat you like this.

A/N thanks for reading! First fic i posted here! Hope you liked it :P

[sleepn0tfound]

Do I Look Like Him? || Chap. II

[Dc x Neglected!Batsis!Surgeon!Reader x PJO]

Word count: 6.6k

Previous <- - - || - - -> Next

────•⋅⊰༻♡༺⊱⋅•────

'Honestly when will she come back?' Damian grumbled as he did NOT swivel in the chair at her desk.

He had already looked at the set up of her desk, actually he looked at her entire room already. The wall of medals and blue ribbons as well as certificates and the display of trophies right next to it were the most interesting parts. Other than that it seemed pretty empty, as if they stayed here it definitely wouldn't be for long.

Just as he was about to reach for a piece of paper that had been left on her desk he flinched and immediately pulled his hand away when he heard voices outside. He took a deep breath in and exhaled, mentally preparing himself to ask what he wanted to.

Wait.

Voices? Why are there more than one?

He got closer to the door and pressed his ear against it to hear.

"The stunt you pulled at the gala was unacceptable and leaving with no warning right after—"

"So what did you expect me to do? Just take those disgusting comments from that man?"

"I expected that the second oldest of this family to at least have some decency and restraint!"

Damian flinched behind the door as he heard his father yell. He never yelled, usually when he got mad he would only use his infamous bat tone.

He was even more taken aback when the next thing he heard was laughter, actual loud laughter. Has he ever heard such laughter from his sister before?

"Family? Since when have any of you considered me as family?"

Damian froze. His blood running cold at her words and the tone she said it in. He didn't have to see her face to sense the underlying anger in her words. But... They were family weren't they? They had the same blood running through their veins. She was the only one out of his siblings that had the same blood as him—

He was only brought out of his thoughts when he heard the handle of the door turning, immediately jumping and going as far as he could to make it seem like he wasn't eavesdropping.

He watched as she opened the door, immediately closing it with a sigh and leaning against the door as if she was done with life. She was.

She looked up not long after and he heard her voice, "What is it this time, demon spawn? Going to make fun of me again?”

Ugh. He always hated how both Jason and her called him that. He simply scoffed and turned his head to the side, “Tch. I don’t have time for that.”

"Then what are you here for?"

He already decided to come this far, there's no going back, "I want to volunteer at your hospital."

.

.

.

He really didn't like the long silence that ensued.

"What." Was all she said after that long silence.

────•⋅⊰༻♡༺⊱⋅•────

She stared at the boy in front of her. The same boy that used to ridicule her. She knows why, of course she did. Did they really think they could hide the fact that they were the bats? Just because she didn't say anything didn't mean she was clueless.

No. It wasn't just him. All of them excluded her, like they all knew a secret she wasn't apart of. Which was true to be honest. Not like she wanted to be apart of that circus anyways.

Back when she first came into the family after she was found out to be Bruce's she was extremely hopeful. She thought she had finally found her family, family was supposed to be warm and loving, right? Hah. Pathetic.

Back then it was just Dick. She was barely acknowledged. While both him and Dick were talking at the dinner table she tried to join in but she only got a short sentence in response before they talked over her again.

She tried asking her father to read her bedtime stories but she was always told "Next time." or "I'm busy." It wasn't long before she found out why Bruce would always say no. She saw them entering the Batcave through the study.

But still. She tried. She tried to be enough for him to acknowledge.

Martial arts. Swimming. Fencing. Ballet. Science competitions. Robotic competitions. Art competitions. Shooting. Archery. She had gained so many accomplishments. Earned so many blue ribbons. So many gold medals. So many gold trophies. First place in anything she attempted, even graduating from High School as a valedictorian at twelve. And yet nothing.

Even Wayne Tech had acknowledged her creation as first in their competition and she had gotten a full ride scholarship so why? Why was nothing enough to make him notice her?

At one point there was entire wall of blue ribbons and golden medals in her room with a wall of shiny gold trophies right next to it. Though there was one that always had more displays than any other. Archery. When she first picked up a bow it felt as though she was made to wield it.

She had so many achievements, so many people praising her when she went to the galas that the Waynes would go to and yet why would those praises matter when she couldn't even get a "Good Job" from the one she desperately wanted to hear from.

As the years passed and her accomplishments only increased she was known as 'The Perfect Wayne' along with many other titles. Sure she had a temper but that was overshadowed by the sheer amount of achievements she had earned.

And as they grow so did the envy from her siblings. Siblings? Could she call them that when they barely even talked? She was basically The Golden Child after all. Though she would disagree with that, if she really was the golden child that meant she would've gotten some attention from Wayne.

She didn't even know when it went from "Dad" to "Father" to "Bruce" to "Wayne".

She had learnt by then that it was no use trying to engage in conversation with any of them since they barely even gave her one sentence replies.

Even Jason. She could still remember the times where she would talk with him for hours on end about the novels they read, it was the type of memory that would make a bittersweet smile on her face. She hadn't exchanged a proper conversation with him ever since he came back.

When she first saw him bleeding out in Crime Alley as Red Hood she knew. She knew it was her baby brother. And she patched him up before he left without a word while she sobbed and asked why he didn't come back home.

Every meeting after that was the same that she couldn't bring herself to try anymore. She used to go to Crime Alley because she knew he wouldn't properly treat his wounds, nowadays she would drive past the district.

Though Damian... He didn't look at her like the rest of them did. Sure the envy was there but it was something more complicated than that. But then again she assumed it was always more complicated than that with this family.

He would always mutter 'disgraceful' under his breath and ridicule her and yet his eyes seemed to always follow her during the rare times she was at the manor. What a contradiction he was.

"Uh... Yeah no." She said as she walked towards her desk.

"Why not!" Damian fumed as he turned to to her.

She looked at her reflection in the mirror she had on her desk, "I don't exactly want to bring a kid with me to work."

"I'm not a kid!" He shouted, why does everybody always call him a kid!

Her eyes flickered to meet his through the mirror, "Yes you are. Aren't you like in middle school?"

"I trained as—" Damian only realised his slip of the tongue after she cut him off.

"So what?" She cut him off, "It doesn't change how old you are."

"I'm much more mature than the average child!"

She turned around and looked at him, "...I don't doubt that." She said as she walked to the window.

"What?" Damian was taken off guard, he was expecting to have had to yell back.

She leaned against the wall and sighed, not expecting to have this conversation tonight or... ever. Her eyes held some kind of emotion that Damian couldn't understand, "You don't have to grow up fast. You don't have to prove anything to anyone."

His eyebrows furrowed as she walked towards him, "This is your life, kid. Not anyone else's. So don't chase anyone's expectations but yours." She knelt done in front of him on one knee, looking at him eye to eye, "Do what you want while you're still young. Play around, nobody is expecting you to be perfect, and if they are then fuck them, because you're a kid, you're supposed to make mistakes, to have space to learn, to have fun."

"Because if not now then when? There's one thing in life you can never get back, kid. And that's time. That's what makes life so precious." Damian didn't like how it felt as though she could see right through him, as if she knew what he has needed to hear for years, "Sacrificing your own happiness just to appease someone else is a sad way to live. You can barely call that living."

"If not you'll grow up to regret it. Trust me I would know." Her eyes flickered to her achievement wall behind her, "Don't waste your childhood."

She stood up, walked towards her window and opened it then turning to Damian, "Think about what I said." Before she jumped out, because she was not staying in that place more than she has to.

He grumbled as he looked back to the desk, picking up the piece of paper he wanted to grab from before only to realise she had written something on it.

Next Wednesday, 8 A.M. Meet me in the garage. Already bailed you out from school.

When did she even write that?

Damian huffed but he kept the paper.

· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·

When Wednesday rolled around Alfred knocked on Damian's door since the boy hadn't come down for breakfast yet, to his surprise he found the boy looking through his closet quite frantically.

"Young master Damian? You're not already dressed?"

Damian almost jumped at the sound of Alfred's voice. Ugh. He had been trained as an assassin since before he could walk he should've been able to sense Alfred's presence or at least have heard the door open. What had gotten into him?

Damian straightened his posture, "Pennyworth. Y/n is bringing me to her workplace today. She said she has already contacted my school."

Alfred raised an eyebrow, "Mistress Wayne?"

"Yes. I'm trying to find a suitable outfit to wear." Damian said before going back to rummaging in what used to be his very neat wardrobe, though it's current state was... not optimal.

Alfred coughed, his expression returning to normal "I don't think Mistress Wayne particularly cares about what you wear, Young Master."

Damian turned to the butler, "Y/n Wayne, The Queen Of Gotham, the woman who single handedly led trends for the past decade, doesn't care about what someone dresses like?"

Alfred picked up the articles of clothing that had fallen to the ground, "Yes but I think that only applies to those that has... come of age."

"A simple attire might be the best suited." Alfred said as he took out a forest green sweater vest, a white dress shirt and grey relaxed slacks before he bowed, "I'll take my leave now. Breakfast is already on the table for you, young master."

Damian stared at the outfit Alfred had placed out as he heard the door closing, contemplating whether to wear it or just find a new outfit. He finally relented after a few minutes.

He put on the outfit before going to gel down his hair. Ugh. His cowlicks were always so insufferable to deal with.

He ate his breakfast in silence, the only sound in the dining room was the sound of his foot repeatedly tapping the ground. Once he was done he rushed walked to the garage. He had a tight grip on the strap of his messenger bag that he had slipped his green notebook into.

When he arrived he already saw that iconic black and purple convertible in the garage, a figure leaning against said car.

She was wearing a black turtleneck, black formal trousers and completed with a long black coat. She was likely prepared for autumn since it will soon be in full swing. She exuded an aura of undisputed authority, the type that didn't allow any sort of complaints.

Even with the weather getting colder it seemed she was still enjoying her iced coffee, "You're here. Get in."

Damian took a breath in before he got into her convertible. She followed suit, starting the car and changing the song to "Riptide" by Vance Joy before driving off.

Once they exited the garage she could feel the cold breeze, "Nothing like the cold wind of Gotham to wake you up." Not that she really slept but you get what she meant.

As the wind blew against her face she hummed, "Have you gotten used to the Gotham air yet? I heard you used to live in the mountain ranges. The shift from there to here must be quite a whiplash."

Damian's face scrunched up, "Indeed. Gotham is very... dirty."

"Yeah. I remember every time I came back from my summer camp the change of environment was very apparent." She said, a rare fond smile on her face, at least it was rare to him.

Though Damian was confused. Wasn't summer camp for unruly children? From what he knew Y/n was the perfect picture child so why should she be in a summer camp?

"Summer camp?" He asked.

"Yeah. Once you do everything you can in this city you get kind of bored, you know? I made the best memories of my life at Summer Camp." She said, not taking her eyes off the road.

Damian furrowed his brows, the best memories of her life are at camp? Not any of the multitude of achievements she has received? He didn't understand her, the most simple things seemed to bring her more joy than anything else she has achieved. Is that just how prodigies like her think?

Her eyes flickered to the boy for a split second before focusing on the road again, "You think it's weird, right? Out of all the things I've experienced summer camp is the happiest?"

Perhaps her past self would've agreed with Damian. If she didn't do it for the validation then what would be the point of doing it? She could see what kind of child Damian was, he was putting up a front because he believed he shouldn't be weak, he was trying to reach an impossible standard, he was trying to prove himself.

She ignored the shadow of a young girl that seemed to be behind him.

"One day you'll find people that makes you forget all the worries of life and remind you to live in the moment." She said as she drove, the wind blowing through her hair. "It's important that you find those people."

The rest of the drive was silent until they reached the hospital's parking. She got her keys and her coffee before exiting her car, "Today is a more chill day. I'll be having some consultations then oversee a few surgeries. You can join me since we'll be watching from the outside through a window. You might've heard of it but it's called smart glass."

Damian grabbed his messenger bag as he got out of the car as well, "It's like a one way mirror."

"Yes. Exactly that actually. Some surgeons may feel pressured knowing that their higher ups are watching so instead I had smart glass installed." She scanned her card to enter a private elevator lobby.

"We'll go to my office first." They walked into the elevator and went to the highest level.

As they both walked out of the elevator they heard someone calling her name.

She smiled as she saw the blonde haired ball of sunshine, "Will." She greeted before looking to the other person next to him who was a deep contrast to the former, "Hey Nico."

"Who's the mini one?" Will smiled at Damian who in returned scowled.

"Mini? I'm not—" Y/n smiled as she covered the boy's mouth.

"This is Damian, my younger brother. Damian, this is Doctor Solace, our chief medical officer and this is Doctor Di Angelo, our chief forensic pathologist and Solace's boyfriend."

Will paused, muttering under his breath, "Brother, huh..." He was too quiet for the others to notice his change of expression.

"I see you finally brought something that doesn't contain over five hundred milligrams of caffeine." Nico joked as he waved at the boy.

Damian still had a scowl on his face but he felt as though something was very familiar about the black hair one.

"You never know." She shrugged with a teasing smile, "Maybe he's fifty percent caffeine."

"He's your brother so I wouldn't put it past him." Nico let out an amused scoff.

Y/n simply rolled her eyes before looking back at Damian, "Today is bring your thing to work day. So I brought you. Solace brought Di Angelo and vice versa. Not like it's different any other day though. They're always glued to each other."

"You're just jealous that your partner isn't—" Nico was cut off by Y/n slapping her palm against his back.

She looked over to Damian, expecting to see a look that said he was not amused but she was shocked to see him looking puzzled instead, she furrowed her eyebrows before quickly putting back on a smile.

“Anyways. I’ll see you later, Will, Nico.” They both nodded and waved the two off as Y/n brought Damian to her office.

The office was very luxurious. The windows stretched from the floor to the ceiling, overseeing the entirety of Gotham. She had a wall which was just a shelf filled with books.

The desk was placed so her back would be to the window. To the side there was a glass table with a couch and three other chairs. There seemed to be a different room to the side, probably a bathroom.

Y/n slid her fingers against her desk, "What's wrong? You've been pretty quiet."

Damian looked up to her, "You said they were boyfriends."

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows, "Yes?"

"But they're both boys."

.

.

.

Y/n Wayne was extremely skilled in hiding her true emotions, though this was one of the rare times it took everything in her to stop herself from gaping. "Uh... Well..." She really didn't think she would ever have to this conversation again.

She really didn't know he hadn't learned this lesson— if you could call it that, yet considering the family he comes from. Todd and Harper— wait no she doesn't think they know that they're dating. Drake and the older Kent? Nope. They were too oblivious to notice they like each other. Uh... Surely Grayson and West? No wait Grayson too many commitment issues for that. Wayne?

...

Hah. Yeah no. Who was she kidding? That man can't hold a relationship for more than a week. Maybe that's where Grayson got those commitment issues from.

She really can't blame the boy for his lack of knowledge in the emotional sector. Nobody in that family is emotionally competent.

"Love knows no bounds, kid. You can't control what your heart wants, no matter how much you want to. I don't see anything wrong with two people of the same gender liking each other as long as it's healthy." Yeah... A bit ironic that she was the one saying that.

Ugh. She was having flashbacks to this same conversation already. While she was contemplating how to continue the conversation her pager suddenly let out a ping.

Her eyes widened as she saw the string of text. "Fuck. Damnit. Today was supposed to be a chill day—"

She was already taking off her heels, "Sorry kid. We'll finish this conversation later. Emergency!"

She took off her coat and grabbed the white one instead and went inside her private bathroom in the office, "You can take a look at my notes on the desk first!"

He looked at her desk and indeed saw a very thick red binder, "What? But wasn't I supposed to observe the surgeries?" Damian shouted so she could hear him through the door.

Y/n came out of that bathroom with scrubs on in record time, "Not this one, demon spawn. This one might be too much for you."

Damian stretched out his hand to reach for her, catching her wrist, "No it won't! I'm not a child!"

Y/n turned back instantly, she barely controlled her instincts to shove the child off her, but when she looked at the young boy her expression changed for a split second, her eyes widening and holding some kind of emotion that held a lot of untold words, short enough that Damian didn't realise.

"I'm not a child!" The sound of a young girl's voice, too knowing for her age echoed through her mind.

She let out a sigh and relented, "Fine. Follow behind me. You're not allowed in the operating rooms."

The emergency room was bustling. Never a good sign.

"He's losing too much blood! Get him to—"

The noise around him seemed muffled as Damian watched as the same kind blonde haired doctor he saw earlier was shouting orders with such a firm tone as different patients were rushed into different operating rooms. It almost seemed like he was an entirely different person than the one he met just now.

"Solace. Rundown. Now." Damian only snapped out of it when he saw her, his sister, looking so much different as she took over issuing the orders.

He wondered how she remained so level headed and calm in such a chaotic situation. He doubt even his father could keep the same level of composure as she did.

Her figure seemed so reassuring, the type that eased others nerves, like she was the pillar that ensured that nothing falls apart. And everyone seemed to trust her without a hint of doubt too as they followed her orders to a tee.

Though his eyes trailed from her to the patients in the being moved and his heart sank. They were all children. No, not only that but they were wearing the same uniform that he would have if he went to school today. He saw classmates, upperclassmen and even children from the elementary sector of Gotham Academy.

He felt like throwing up.

Why? He had seen so many dead bodies. He had killed so many. And yet why does the sight of the emergency room being filled with children make him so nauseated?

No. Worst of all the children looked as if they had a permanent grin on their face. He could instantly tell which rogue had gotten the children, one of the only rogues that would even target children.

He was so out of it that he didn't even notice that his phone was constantly vibrating.

He could only watch as his sister went from room to room, operating on as many children as physically possible.

His face paled as he saw that doctor, no, the forensic pathologist from earlier enter one of the rooms. Then another. And another.

It was then he remembered why the black haired male seemed so familiar. He had seen him talking to Commissioner Gordon before when he was Robin. Right. Forensic pathologists did autopsies for crime victims as well.

Damian's train of thought was broken when he saw him enter the rooms of classmates, peers, people he saw in the halls, even those he never talked to or disliked.

His focus shifted back to his sister. No. He had to focus on her so that he wouldn't throw up. He could watch as she flawlessly completed every risky procedure before handing it over to other surgeons when the patient was more stable.

He really didn't know how her hands were so stable while operating when his were shaking just from looking at the scene playing out in front of him. He could tell she liked children with the way she treated him. Even if she didn't this sight wouldn't be easy on anyone.

And he knew she was doing the riskiest operations, he could recognise them from the books he had read. She must have so much pressure on her and yet she looked so composed.

He felt like he was seeing his father for the first time again. The first time he saw his father saving the lives of citizens. He felt like he was seeing a hero.

Is that what it took to be a doctor?

Did he even have what it took? While Y/n powered through this situation without panic here he was nauseous just from watching.

But he continued to watch for what seemed to be hours. Because it was. Painful hours as he heard giggles of children echo through the emergency room, somewhere where those sounds should never be heard. It was extremely eerie.

And all through those hours never once did his sister falter. Never once did she stop operating on the children.

He was looking through the smart glass, too distracted to even notice someone sprinting towards him until they grabbed him from behind. He flinched and raised his hand out of instinct.

"Damian. Do you have any idea how worried we were? Why didn't you answer your phone!"

Only then did Damian's arm lowered. He stared at familiar icy blue eyes and black wavy hair.

"Grayson." Damian's tone seemed reserved.

Dick had one of his knees on the ground as he knelt in front of the younger boy, "Let's go home, Damian."

Damian didn't say anything in response, he only turned his head to look in the room that Y/n was in. She looked just as she had hours ago when everything started. He wondered how.

Dick's eyes followed Damian's line of sight, "She'll be fine, Damian. This is her job. She does this everyday."

Damian knew that Dick probably said that to make him feel better but he didn't know much worse that made him feel. Because he knew Dick was right. This was an everyday occurrence in Gotham. And that was horrible.

How many people died each day? How many people had his sister have to resuscitate each day, how many people could have been saved? He was in a family of heroes yet it felt like there was no difference being made.

In fact it felt as though Y/n was doing much more than them despite not being a vigilante.

He let Grayson lead him out of the hospital, his gaze still locked onto his sister who was still working tirelessly. Only when the elevator closed could he finally stop looking in her direction.

It was a quiet drive home. Though it wasn't like that serene quiet he had experienced this morning, it was a heavy silence. Just the sound of the engine could be heard, unlike the songs that Y/n had been blasting on the way to the hospital this morning.

Even when they arrived home it was quiet. His father and Tim were probably in the Batcave handling the aftermath. The others were nowhere to be seen, it was to be expected. This always happened after every major incident.

Only Alfred was there to greet them, "Young masters." Alfred's expression was solemn.

Damian ate his dinner in silence. And that silence continued for the next week of his life. School had been cancelled. For obvious reasons.

It had been nine days since then. He hadn't spoken to anyone, then again the only one who even tried to check in was Dick and his father even if he was extremely awkward about it. And Alfred was already a given. He saw the butler more than anyone else in the manor.

Actually, no. There was one more person. The day after the incident something had appeared on his windowsill. A crocheted black wolf plushy.

The purple heart it had on its cheek instantly gave away who had sent it to him. He didn't really know how it ended up there but he was never going to tell anyone about how that plushy was now bundled up in a blanket hidden away on his bed.

And for nine days he contemplated what he wanted. He poured over the biology books that were in the huge library of the manor. But was it enough?

He grit his teeth and made his decision.

So on the ninth day he finally talked to Alfred. He asked to be driven to the hospital. Alfred only nodded.

There was something that Damian never understood. Alfred obviously respected all of them, but there was something off with the dynamic between Alfred and Y/n.

While he seemed to treat her on the same level as his father she seemed to actively dislike him. Then again he hasn't seen her much to deduce anything for certain.

Not only that but Alfred would address all of them as "Young Master" or "Young Miss", even Dick who was the oldest. So why did he address Y/n as "Mistress Wayne"? Just as he called his father "Master Wayne".

He stopped thinking about it when he reached the desk. Everyone in Gotham knew who Damian was, some personnel had even seen him staring into the operating rooms that day. So he was easily granted access to Y/n's office, though he was informed that she was currently operating on someone.

He saw the staff giving him smiles as he passed by. Huh. He was used to having pitying stares aimed at him. Though he supposes since this is a hospital that was probably discouraged.

As he entered the elevator and tried to press the button to the highest level he realised he had to have a card to do so, he grumbled and was about to ask the lady at the front desk again when a tall black haired man with glasses entered the elevator and scanned his card, pressing the highest level.

Damian had seen this man the other day. He seemed to be one of the higher positioned doctor because he had access to the highest level, not only that but he along with the blonde one, were taking on the riskier patients along with Y/n.

This man had a cold aura to him. No not figuratively he meant it literally. Like the air around him was colder. Though he did look extremely aloof Damian could sense that he was much kinder than he looked.

As the man left the elevator and seemed to enter his own office near Y/n's Damian suddenly felt a cold sensation on his hand. He looked down and saw a small snow...cat? Like a snowman... but cat.

He looked at the closed door of the man's office.

"Doctor Li"

The nameplate showed. Huh. That man was probably at least part Chinese. Ah. When was the last time he spoke Chinese? Ugh. He might be getting rusty if he doesn't practice. You would think having a manor full of multilingual people would mean he got to spoke his other mother tongues. Then again they don't really interact as much anymore.

He held the snowcat tenderly as he entered Y/n's office. Taking in the luxury of it once again. Luxurious but not gaudy.

Then he saw the same red binder he saw on her desk that day that seemed to have a lot of love and care put into it. And it was thick.

His hand hesitated as he reached out for it. I mean she did say he could read through it that day so...

His eyes widened as he flipped through the pages of the binder. It was very clear why she was so skilled in every single type of surgery, because every single page was extremely detailed and held an almost impossible amount of information.

He hasn't even seen anything as thick as this binder back when he was living at The League of Assassins base. And his grandfather used to be a doctor. So that said a lot.

He wondered if there was information in here that even his grandfather doesn't know about. The more pages he saw the more he could believe it.

He spent hours reading through the binder, losing track of time. He hadn't even heard the door opening and jumped when he heard a voice, "I see you're enjoying my notes."

Damian cursed internally, why has his senses been so dull the past few days. He looked up to see Y/n, looking as perfect as ever. But he knew better. She has probably not have a wink of sleep in days, even if you couldn't tell. But a doctor such as Y/n who was in a league of her own? There's no way she gets proper rest.

Damian faked a cough, "Your notes are very detailed."

"Thanks. I spent more than half my life on those so." She had a lazy smirk on her face.

Damian looked at her with a questioning look, "What?"

"Yeah. I started getting into basic medicine when I was eight." She looked at the red binder fondly, "My friend was very... accident prone."

Damian stared at the binder, he never would've guessed that she had started this binder at just eight years old. The word prodigy seemed to be an understatement when describing her. His fists unknowingly clenched.

"Ah. Zayne must've given it to you."

Her voice made him look back up at her, "Zayne?"

She pointed at the snowcat that was somehow still frozen, "Zayne might look icy on the outside, literally, but he's actually a real softie."

Damian looked at the snowcat again, "How is it still frozen—"

"Damian."

The boy paused, his focus now completely drawn away from the snowcat. Y/n had never said his first name before. Ever.

"Are you okay?"

"What? Of course I'm—"

"Damian. You're a smart kid." Y/n had contemplated not mentioning anything. All children are different, some would rather not talk about bad things that they have experienced, others needed to vent it out to feel better. Or they could be both at the same time. Her years as camp councilor have taught her that.

She had been the one who allowed him to watch everything that happened that day, so she is responsible for that. It wouldn't be right to gloss it over like that and try to distract him, not with a kid like Damian. "I'm sorry you had to see that. It's my fault."

Damian scoffed, trying to hide his real expression as he turned his head, "I'm the one that insisted on following."

"Yes. But I'm the one who allowed you to witness that. And—" She stopped him from refuting, "I know you don't want to be treated like a child. And that's fair. You're going to be a teen soon."

"But compared to me you're still young. And I'm the adult in this situation, so yes, it was wrong for me to bring you there. And it was my fault, not yours." She looked straight into his green eyes that almost seemed unnaturally bright.

"I want to know how you feel." She watched as he looked down at his hands.

Huh. When was the last time someone said that to him? Feelings? The League taught him that feelings were useless for someone like him. And it wasn't like the people in the manor were that great at expressing their emotions in a healthy way either.

Is that why he doesn't know how he's feeling?

Y/n waited patiently as the boy stayed quiet, "Take your time. If you don't know what it is try to describe it to me."

"It was bad."

Y/n listened quietly.

"I felt so bad. When I saw Doctor Di Angelo going through multiple rooms it was nauseating. I didn't talk to them, I didn't even like them. But they were my age. They were young." Damian hands clenched even harder, his nails digging into his own skin.

"They had dreams too! They had their whole life ahead of them so why—" He never understood it. Even if The League had engraved into his soul that killing was just part of their nature he never understood why.

Y/n had one knee on the floor as she knelt in front of him, using her own hands to ensure that his nails didn't make himself bleed.

"Why is it so unfair! Why are the innocent people the ones who die?"

Y/n spoke quietly, "You're right. Life is unfair. Everyone in this world eventually dies, Damian. That's also a part of life. Death doesn't discriminate against the sinners and the saints. It just takes and takes."

She took a breath in.

"Do you know why I decided to be a doctor?"

Damian looked up from his hands into her eyes, they were the same type of blue as their father's and yet he didn't know why they looked so different.

"Because I refuse to let death take my loved ones before their time is due."

Damian froze.

"I would never wish for my loved ones to be immortal. That's a fate far too cruel for them. But I want them to live a life with no regrets, that they'll be able to leave peacefully saying that they have indeed lived, that they have accomplished all they wanted to. That they lived their life to the fullest."

"Because in a world full of destruction, I choose to create."

Those words. He had never told anyone why he wanted to be a doctor, in fact he thinks the only ones who knows is Y/n and Alfred. Dick only thought that he was at the hospital because he wanted to pester Y/n.

But the real reason? He had found their grandfather's journal. And in the journal Thomas Wayne has detailed about how he wished that his legacy will be passed on.

Of course Damian wanted to be a part of the Wayne legacy, and at first that was just being a vigilante. Then he found the journals. It only started as a want to feel belonged, but as he continued to read something changed.

He noticed how different his paternal grandfather was compared to his maternal grandfather. Ra's raised him to be a killer, to incite violence. While Thomas wanted to heal.

No. Thomas Wayne didn't just want to heal, he said he wanted to build. He wanted to build a different path for Gotham.

And as time went on Damian realised so did he. It wasn't just for legacy's sake. He didn't want to be tied to violence, to be who he was raised to be by The League.

And those words. It really did make sense that Y/n was a Wayne. Because her words seemed as though it would've came straight out of their shared grandfather's mouth.

And... He wants to be like that too.

She looked into his eyes and he could see the sincerity in them, "So, do you really want to be doctor?"

Damian took a deep breath in before answering, "I'll try my best."

A smile formed on her lips, "That's all that matters."

Hey guys... It's been a while. Erh. I just get random spurts of motivation so like yeah... You can thank my current PJO hyperfixation for this fic. I wasn't actually planning on traumatising Damian but like he's already traumatised so what's a bit more? It builds character heh. This chapter turned out much longer than I expected so next chapter will prob be shorter. I have a prologue chapter about 60% done so you can look forward to that if I don't disappear for half a year again LOL Also I reached flowstate and wrote the last 3.5k words in the past 4 hours and it's 5AM currently so it's not rlly proofread. To anybody expecting Death Of A Star chapter 2 I apologise because I have zero idea what direction I even want to go to with that story but like it'll come out... eventually :)

[peacexpeace]

i just want you to love me as much as i think about it

giving your boyfriend the silent treatment after an argument ft. anaxa, sunday, blade

notes: gn!reader, attached/obsessive men, sunday being both manipulative and pathetic somehow, blade is a warning, song from here

༄ anaxa:

✣ droves of students come out through the doors of one of the many science buildings, yet the one sight you actually came to see is nowhere to be found. a despondent sigh exits your mouth as you stand and accept your defeat.

how pathetic it was — you were the one who started this childish ignoring game when you found yourself on the back-burner of anaxa's priorities once more. truly, you'd thought this would knock some sense into him and make him realize how much he missed having you around. instead, you stand like a fool on a campus you don't even attend, coming to terms with the fact you seem to care about him much more than he cares for you.

"oh, are you waiting for professor anax?"

you glance up to see a vaguely familiar face. one of anaxa's students, clearly, and one you assume you've met before. the fog in your brain must be showing, because he just laughs and tells you his name after a brief apology from yourself.

"no worries! i don't expect you to know everyone. the professor just brings you up a lot, so it's hard for us not to know who you are."

interesting.

"he does?" you ask with an even tone, not trying to seem too eager. "complaints, i'm sure."

the student only gets a couple of words about how 'prof anax looks super dopey when he talks of you!' in before a loud cough echoes besides you two, making him freeze as the smile quickly drops from his face. you peer and see the source of your problems himself, eye slanted and foot tapping in a staccato rhythm.

the young man besides you seems to stop breathing as anaxa coldly breaks the silence, "i was sure the work i assigned was ample enough to keep you distracted, but i see you still have other priorities."

with a curt nod, the student rushes away as anaxa makes his way closer to you. bitterness overtakes your thirst to win, and you mutter, "so he can speak," just loud enough for him to catch the resentment in your voice.

"if i recall correctly," his lip twitches into something mirroring your displeasure, "this childish escapade only happened because you were insistent in your own misguided assumptions—"

"that is the problem, anaxagoras," you cut him off, moving on from your yearning spell to being defensive of his criticism. "whether i'm in the wrong or not, the way you dismiss and belittle me for it still makes you an asshole."

he brushes off the insult with ease, "an asshole who's partner is speaking to him again. a net positive, if that slipped your mind."

the remark makes your brow raise. really? that was his mastermind idea?

"what, piss me off to make me stop talking to you, piss me off more to make me talk to you again? that didn't seem like a stupid plan to you?"

"if it was stupid, it wouldn't have worked," he says with a final tone, taking two more steps towards you until he's able to grasp your hand. one, two, each of your knuckles is kissed with intent. an apology in every touch.

"if for even a brief moment, you've questioned the severity of how much i crave you, i have my doubts about who is the true imbecile of this relationship."

never-mind. still an asshole.

༄ sunday:

✣ "my love," sunday begs, matching the way you speed your movements to try and shake him off.

you don't even react, staring straight ahead as your footsteps echoed on the sidewalk. according to sunday, the only thing worse than fighting with you was not hearing from you at all. in turn, you're not surprised at not only the level of desperation he feels to try and satiate your indignation, but the fact he hasn't stopped vying for your attention since the moment it originally started —

"two days, seventeen hours, thirteen minutes, and fifty one seconds," he starts with stiff timbre, "is more than enough time for us to sort out our disagreements, isn't it? i'm sure you're aware of how deeply remorseful i am by this point, darling."

still, your conviction is unwavering no matter how pathetic his displays become. he always tries to sweet talk and love-bomb his way back into your good graces, knowing how achromatic his entire world becomes the moment you're not with him.

images flicker in your mind, not conceived of your own imagination. the true magnitude of his grief is prevalent, as he normally would never allow his telepathy to be so carelessly mismanaged. in his frenzied state of trying to subdue his emotions, he's allowing his thoughts to leak from his brain without consequence.

barely perceivable, you glimpse at him for what must be a millisecond, but he hones in on the action like a starving animal.

a throb pierces your head ; more of a pleasant singe as opposed to any real pain. you stumble slightly from the unexpected feeling, and sunday is in front of you before you could even figure out you were going to hit the ground. a satisfied smile worms it's way onto his face as you land in his hold, and his arms constrict quickly so you have no chance of getting out.

"my angel," he coos with pleading eyes, covering the sides of your face from any bystanders. "i'll carve out my heart if that's what it takes to be blessed with your affection once more, but please don't deprive me of the melody from your lips."

you bite the inside on your cheek, glaring at him. even when you know he's trying to twist your heart to his liking, part of you can't help but want to just concede. the emptiness left behind from being adored by sunday isn't easily filled, not with nearly as much earnest emotion that he provides you. if nothing else, it wasn't a question if you were truly the world that he orbits.

with a sigh, you wriggle and push him away, standing straight up, noticing how the fabric of his gloves tightens from clenching his fist. you acquiesce in spite of better judgment, but still lace your first words with malice, "maybe if you got on your knees and asked nicely."

the instant the request is spoken into the air, he's on the ground, staring up at you with devotion so reverent you worry that ena is standing behind you. you quickly look around, praying that nobody sees such an insane display. you truly had thought he'd have too much pride to deny the outrageous suggestion.

"is this enough to placate your animosity? or would you rather i go further?" he asks with just enough smugness that you question whether or not it's actually there. maybe he's playing games, maybe he really is that needy, but it's gotten to a point you no longer can justify.

"for aeons sake, sunday. get off the ground," you groan, rubbing your temples. he complies easily, standing before you with happily fluttering wings and a pleased look on his face. even if you were annoyed, you were speaking to him, and you were sure he was filing this as a victory in his brain.

you roll your eyes and continue down the street, this time letting him follow next to you and grasp your hand in his own. you're not exactly happy about the outcome, but what's done is done. as a last jab as him, you grumble, "you're sleeping on the floor tonight."

"whatever you'd like, my love."

༄ blade:

✣ the buzzing of your electric toothbrush fills the bathroom as you finish getting ready for bed. even though nothing really happened today, every minute seemed to drag without your boyfriend by your side. no matter how many times you've begged him to at least send you a text to where he's gone when he gets pulled away for a mission, you're left worrying yourself sick every time he disregards your words.

evidently, actions are the only thing that will cause the gears in his brain to turn. if blade can't understand how you feel, then maybe a disappearing act of your own will shock him with realization. in turn, the past two days have felt like a horror survival game for you. avoiding blade is a task even his most slimy of enemies have a hard time achieving. when he knows your breathing like the creases on his palm, it becomes roughly twenty times harder. luckily, kafka had been in the mood to play and kept you in the loop of blade's general location while also concealing your own.

after rinsing off the bristles, you sigh and turn off the lights before heading for your bed. maybe you'll message blade tomorrow, try to get through by telling him it doesn't feel so good to ignored, does it?

when you click the remote to turn your fan on, two distinct eyes stare at you from behind it.

blade doesn't flinch at your ear-piercing scream. his gaze simply narrow as he slowly steps towards you, speaking lowly as if he's cornering his prey. which, considering the blood sprayed across his face like a careless painting, is exactly how you feel at the moment.

"did your time away give you what you desired?" he asks lowly and ice-cold. there's no room for joking in his tone. clearly your little game had irritated him to the highest extent.

you try to recollect yourself while dealing with what is going to be a very large problem. while you didn't expect him to be giddy once you were reunited, you also didn't think he'd be this irate.

"i couldn't locate you. no heat readings from your house, despite what's in front of me at this moment," he states grimly, close enough to grasp your chin in his hands. his eyes bore into yours with such intensity you feel as if it might light you aflame.

"… now you know how i feel?" you retort with a stiff chuckle, hoping to play it off like some ill-thought out joke.

he doesn't laugh.

his sword gracelessly drops to the floor as his other hand rests on the small of your back, pulling you closer. his forehead rests against your own, filled with such uncertainty that your entire theory seems like little more than cruelty towards your lover.

he lets out a shaky exhale, murmuring into the dark of the night, "even if you no longer decide i am needed, if this body is to no longer serve it's only purpose, there is nowhere in any galaxy where my hand will not reach you."

it's a promise he's made before, the one you hang on to during the nights where you're worried if he'll even return to you at all. this time though, the weight is much heavier. you don't know who he cleaved through in a mindless rampage to find you, and you're not sure you want to ever find out. all you know is how sincere he seemed to treat those words.

your lips part to apologize but he's on you faster than it can come out, kissing you with enough desperation to ensure you'll never try something like this again. when you whisper a quiet, "sorry," into the kiss, his hold on you tightens.

"never again," he says with a somber tone, as if he's already seeing flashes of the atrocities he'd commit if this were to ever occur once more. you can't help but agree internally, if not for the fear of everyone around you — never again, indeed.

[ssscytale]

hands of fate

ryland grace/f!teacher!reader

summary you couldn't say that you ever dreamed of a group of twelve-year-olds intervening in your love life, but maybe you weren't too upset about it. cws no spoilers/au with no dying sun, friends to lovers, painfully oblivious protagonist wc 3.6k words

thank you anon for requesting, i wrote this swift af i'm not gonna lie. the title comes from the taylor swift song state of grace, i'm very funny. i've only see phm twice, i'm hoping to see it again thursday :)))

The sun shone into the classroom in the way that you always enjoyed, the irritatingly bright and bug-corpse-filled overhead fluorescent lights turned off while you graded papers. It was always the most relaxing like this, with the sun shining light on the desk, rather than the lights that always felt like they were two seconds away from giving anyone who had to be around them for too long a headache.

However, it also meant that you would soon have company, a routine that you had also grown accustomed to over time.

Like clockwork, Ryland Grace appeared at almost four in the afternoon on the dot, the moment that he was finished with his own grading (though he was often just keeping more scientifically inclined students after class because they had more questions). Ryland was popular with the kids. He was funny and kind, he cared about the students more than some teachers, and each and every one of them felt comfortable coming to him with anything and everything.

Granted, you were in the same boat. He was the science teacher, and you were the English teacher. But, you were both popular with the children because you were able to relate to them to help them. Both of you were always there to help, to make school more bearable for children who were being forced to be there. Naturally, the two teachers with the most whimsy in the school were the most popular with the kids, and the two closest of any of the faculty members.

“Mr. Grace, to what do I owe the pleasure?” You asked, setting down the pen under the guise of faux-professionalism. But that was dropped the moment he tugged a desk closer to yours, sitting on the desk rather than the chair, and tossing a crocheted ball of the Earth at you. Or, as you had come to discover, lava… apparently.

“I’m just here for my daily community service, teaching the school English teacher how to do physics.” He joked, reaching his hand out as he caught the ball you tossed back at him. Because that was part of the routine, too. Ryland liked to tell you all sorts of things about science, but mainly physics, because it was the one that you found the most interesting; at least, in the way that he broke it down. “So, what did you want to learn today? I was thinking that we could learn about stars, you seemed to like that last time.”

You smiled as you tilted your head down, finishing the paper that you were working on before setting the stack of them off to the side. Ryland’s smile was infectious when he sent it your way, but it always was. He was sweet, and he always came here to talk to you. But you were both always talking to each other, anyway. You ate lunch together, chaperoned the same field trips, and presented at assemblies with each other instead of anyone else. You were naturally closer to each other than anyone else.

That closeness didn’t come without its pitfalls.

Ryland was very, very attractive. Especially when he wore his cozy-looking sweaters and his glasses the wrong way. You always found him beautiful, and you didn’t understand how he was still single. You knew his last relationship hadn’t gone well, from what he told you. He’d told you that she thought his head was too high in the clouds, that he didn’t have quite as much ambition towards a relationship as he had toward his work and the science that he studied.

Still, he was too beautiful to be single, in your eyes. Though you weren’t complaining. You would, admittedly, hate it if he were in a relationship.

“Stars,” You finally mused, tilting your head as you thought about it. “Later, we’ve gotta talk about the field trip in two days; we haven’t talked about it yet.”

“Well-hey-I’ve tried, you just said ‘sorry, I’m reading Romeo and Juliet right now’. Crazy excuse by the way, who reads Romeo and Juliet recreationally?”

You tossed a balled up sticky note at him before showing him the paper you had been grading. “Not recreationally, Ryland, it’s our current lesson.”

“You’re torturing the kids? No wonder they’ve been asking to stay after class with me instead.”

“Hush.” You groaned, but you couldn’t help the little laugh that bubbled up in your throat. Ryland didn’t have a problem, necessarily, with the books that you taught or with books in general. But he certainly did like picking on you about it, just like you enjoyed picking on him for a month straight when he was the unfortunate teacher who had to show a grade of kids the dreaded birth video. “Field trip. Planetarium. Stars. Are we taking the same bus?”

“We always take the same bus; let Mrs. Johnson deal with the other one.” He joked, but his words were true. There wasn’t a time in recent memory that you had gone on a separate bus from Ryland. You often sat across from each other, but you sometimes sat together if there were too many kids for you to sit across from each other. He liked to sprawl out in the seats, though. Using the bus bench as his own personal bed until he complained about whacking his head when the bus bumped too hard.

“True, yeah, okay. Same bus. I was thinking that we could do two lunch breaks since there are more kids than usual this time around.” Ryland groaned at the idea of having to wrangle the kids for two separate lunch breaks, but you raised an eyebrow. “Imagine if we had to give one hundred and fifty kids lunch at the same time in public, Ry, that would be horrendous.”

“Yeah, alright. But we-” He made a motion between the two of you, far too exaggerated when you were giving him your direct attention. “Are having lunch together.”

“Sure, let Mrs. Johnson handle the other lunch, too.”

The thing was, Ryland liked being around you. He insisted upon it, really. Just as you did, even if you weren’t as blunt. But you figured it was just because he was nice, because you were both friends and hung out outside of school. You knew he didn’t have many people he was close to, if any. So you figured he just liked having the connection, which was why you never once allowed yourself to wonder if he reciprocated the feelings that you made a habit of hiding from him.

“Good, deal. Now, can I teach you about stars?”

“Mm… you got any snacks?”

“Obviously.”

Ryland jumped down from the desk as he passed you a share-sized bag of Sour Skittles that he had certainly taken his share from earlier. That, however, didn’t stop him from eating them while he stood behind you, giving a presentation on your whiteboard in a way that only he could give. Nor did it stop him from walking out with you, insisting that you both get coffee before you go home, even though it’s not typical for people to get coffee on the way home from anything.

The next day came quicker than you would have liked. Ryland walked in with you, because you both discovered a bit ago that you lived relatively close to each other. Sometimes, you carpooled. Other times, he liked to tail you just to annoy you. Today was no different than any other day, your fingers tapping along your coffee cup as you walked into class.

Handing back the papers that you graded, you leaned against your desk as you went over everyone’s papers and their different interpretations of love that they gave in their papers. You, of course, had noticed that there was a lot more snickering within the class since you’d started the lesson on this story. You figured, at the time, that it had something to do with kids being kids. The idea of romance made them giggle. It was probably something that kids did back when you were their age, so you didn’t think much of it at first.

“So, I want you guys to find your favorite adaptation of this classic and do a paper or presentation on it for the midterm. Can anyone think of a real-life adaptation of Romeo and Juliet?”

There was more snickering from one side of the room, and one student from said side raised their hand for your attention.

“Yes, Ashton?”

“Yeah, um, can I do mine on this class? Sometimes I think it’s an adaptation of Romeo and Juliet.”

More snicking, especially when you gave perhaps one of the more perplexed expressions you had given in class before. “Okay, no to… whatever that means.” You responded, moving on to the next student.

“I think what Ashton means is that Mr. Grace is like totally in love with you and he talks about you all the time and stuff, but you can’t be together because of the principal.”

Some students nodded in agreement, but you just felt your jaw fall open as yourself trying to speak but not feeling anything coming out, causing to more laughing in the class. “Okay, first of all, totally intrusive and inappropriate, but I’ll let it slide this time. Second of all, I don’t think he’s totally in love with me, and third, I don’t think the principal would care, not that it’s any of your business.”

“No, Miss, he’s definitely in love with you.”

“I sincerely don’t think that’s true. And anyway, it has nothing to do with adaptations of Romeo and Juliet, let’s get back on track about that.”

One of the girls in the class audibly sighed at your insistence, but you just continued on with class even though you could feel yourself still a bit flustered. You were pretty flustered throughout the day, which was ridiculous because a bunch of twelve-year-olds teasing you shouldn’t fluster you. Naturally, it was a part of the job. But something about it was different. Because children were nothing if not honest, to you, at least. And they liked you and Ryland; they’d been rather clear about that. Meaning that they certainly weren’t out to humiliate you.

Did just about everyone think that there was something going on between the two of you? You were a bit surprised, given the fact that you doubted that Ryland felt that way. But you were left curious and warm throughout the day. Even during lunch, you found yourself sharing food with Ryland like you normally did. All he ever ate was Ramen, so you often took it upon yourself to try to make him eat other things. Granted, he still just went back to his old reliable Ramen.

You were still thinking about it even when you were getting in the car together, but he distracted you pretty quickly when he diverted the car away from home and toward a restaurant that you’d both been talking about going to for a while.

“I’m definitely not dressed for this, Ryland. And I think it’s reservation only.”

You were standing outside some new, fancy Italian place that you had been salivating over the prospect of for a week now. But you didn’t like going to fancy places alone, and you didn’t feel confident enough to ask Ryland to go to dinner with you. So you figured that you would wait for a bit until one of your other friends was free enough to go, which was getting harder since they all had… families and stuff.

“I made a reservation, and you look beautiful.”

He brushed it off like it was nothing, leaving his side of the car before you had the chance to even process the compliment. You opened the passenger door, but were perplexed by him holding out his hand for you. You just quirked a brow and unbuckled, taking his hand as he helped you out of the car (you didn’t need help, but you’d take the contact, anyway). Ryland, in fact, had made a reservation for two about five days ago. That was probably day three of you showing him pictures of their housemade alfredo and telling him that you’d die if you got to taste it. So, maybe he was trying to kill you.

But he sat across from you, and he ordered wine, and he paid for everything. It felt like a date; it had all the makings of a date. But you didn’t want to assume; it felt wrong to assume. He was your friend, a close, close friend who was bringing you out to dinner after work so he didn’t have to keep hearing about how badly you were craving pasta while he was trying to make the most of his forty-nine cent chicken noodle Ramen noodles. It wasn’t anything more than that.

When he was taking you back home, he stopped outside of your house, still talking about something stupid that one of his students had done during the day. He was always so animated when he spoke, and you couldn’t help but be too enthralled to even notice that you were even home. But he eventually stopped speaking, his head turning so he could look at you.

“I think we’re here,”

“It does look pretty familiar.”

You had half a mind to remember what the kids had said earlier about him being ‘totally in love with you’, but they were just kids, right? Unreliable narrators. You opened your mouth to say something, to tell him about what they had said. But something about the way that his eyes met yours made you pause, your smile falling a bit. Everything felt tense, neither of you knowing exactly what to say. You were almost certain that his eyes moved down to your lips, and you were positive that your eyes had moved down to his lips in return.

But Ryland cleared his throat, and you turned your gaze toward your house when he did.

“Thank you for dinner, really. I’ll pay you back.”

“No, no, absolutely not. I paid, you just have to suffer the consequences of having an extra fifty dollars in your bank. Tough ask, I know.”

You smiled and moved to grab the door, but what the kids had said was still giving you pause. You contemplated for all of ten seconds before you leaned over to kiss his cheek. It could easily be perceived as platonic; you knew that. But you felt his skin heat up under your lips for the brief moment you had them there, your eyes locking on his for a moment before you moved back toward the door. “Really, thank you, you’re the best man in the whole galaxy.”

Maybe you were being bold, but maybe it didn’t matter. It was predominantly like nothing had happened the next morning, but that was mainly because you were both very busy trying to wrangle kids and last minute permission slips for the trip to the planetarium. Some of the kids who had made the comments in your class the other day were on the trip, so you made sure that they were on a different bus since the attendance turnout meant that you were going to be sitting next to Ryland.

That effort was… fruitless.

More children than you knew were under the distinct impression that you were both in love with each other. At the very least, they were all under the clear impression that Ryland was in love with you, and you were pretty sure you had kept your pining on the down-low.

If it wasn’t one kid taking a picture of you both sitting together to post online, it was another group of kids insisting upon sitting across from the two of you in the front of the bus so they could somewhat loudly talk about you both being ‘their favorites’ and saying that you should ‘get married so you can be their favorites and also be married’. You just ignored it, though you could still see a little pink flush on Ryland’s cheeks. And maybe that was confirmation, a bit of one at least.

Once you were inside the planetarium was when the teasing became a bit more relentless, though.

You’d both been called up by one of the employees to do a demonstration for the kids before they did it, a standard thing for the teacher to be called up first. You were supposed to show them how to pull the lever that would move one of the projectors, and it was helpful to have Ryland up there since he actually knew what he was talking about and what to point out. But the lever was a little stuck, and instead of just waiting for assistance, you both decided to just un-stick it instead of wasting people’s time.

The issue with that, though, is that you were both a bit clumsy.

Fixing it meant pulling really, really hard. And eventually it freed itself, but Ryland just about crashed right into you. Your hands immediately shot out to his shoulders to stabilize yourself and make sure that he, too, didn’t fall on his ass. But your eyes were on his as he held onto you in return, apologizing for almost ‘treating you like a bowling pin’. You were both very close, though. Touching each other, eyes locked on each other. And the kids noticed, a few whistles coming from some of them.

That noise made you both jerk apart, going back to the presentation.

But you couldn’t help wondering. What if they were right? You didn’t expect them to be right about personal, adult matters. They were children; what did they know about romance? But Ryland was a talker, and if he did like you, he probably made it… obvious.

Shit, he did make it obvious. You’d just been an idiot about it.

All the following each other around the school, bringing you snacks that he knew you liked, sharing coffee, and going to shops after work. He had been just about properly courting you in every single way besides asking if he could properly court you, and you couldn’t put it past him to admit to his students that he was carpooling with you for energy efficiency or something. He was someone who liked to talk, and he often overshared. But he didn’t even have to do that. Because he had been obvious, he basically took you on a date, and you just didn’t notice.

The moment the first lunch break started for the kids, you let Mrs. Johnson handle her group while your group explored. But while they were watching the light show, you were tugging Ryland off by the sleeve into a more secluded area. You were nervous to ask, to talk to him about any of this, but you felt like you had to. You wanted to, because you knew that you had just been too oblivious to read a single one of the very obvious signs that he had been dropping.

“We should probably, uh- what’s wrong?”

“Was that a date?”

“What?”

“Last night, was that a date?”

“Um…”

Ryland rubbed the back of his neck, looking away from you. But you reached up to him now, your hand on his chest, resting over the dorky t-shirt that he had decided to wear to work that day. His attention turned back to you, his cheeks flushed.

“Do you… want it to be a date?”

You smiled softly at his question, “Yeah, I do.”

Ryland seemed a bit stunned for a second. For a man who had spent so much of his free time hanging out by himself, he was a bit surprised that you were openly admitting that you wanted to go on a date with him. But he also wasn’t the type of person to deny himself of something that he absolutely wanted. Something that he knew you wanted, too.

“I think all of our students want it to be a date, too. My kids are persistent that you’re ‘like totally in love with me.”

His cheeks flushed a bit darker, but he laughed this time. Ryland let one of his hands move to your cheek, sighing when you leaned into his touch. His thumb stroked over your cheek delicately, like you were made of porcelain. “Yeah, maybe a little.” He admitted, his eyes moving back to your lips like they had done the night before. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yeah, quick. Don’t want any of them to make any illegal bet money off of us.”

You weren’t sure who closed the distance first. You just knew that you were never going to forget the feeling of his lips pressed against yours, or how soft his hair was in your hand when you finally got to tangle your fingers in it for a moment. When the kiss broke, he was just about to go back in for another before he heard talk about Pluto from the other room, his head perking up like he’d been activated by the gaseous giant.

“C’mon, wanna make sure they don’t call poor Pluto a planet in there.”

Laughing, you let him drag you back into the other room by the hand. You were a lot more relaxed throughout the day, laughing with him now that you both knew the truth, now that you knew what exactly this was. But you did end up giving the kids the illegal bet money that they wanted anyway when you held hands on the bus, and especially when he dozed off with his head on your shoulder on the way back.

As grateful as you were, you would never live down a bunch of middle schoolers being what got you both to stop being so oblivious.